Thursday, June 28, 2012

Crowded, Hot, Sweaty, Scary, Cheap Shopping

So after about four years of living in Nicaragua I went to the #2 out of 81 things to do in Managua (so says Lonely Planet)...shopping at Mercado Oriental! Mercado Oriental is the largest open-air market in Central America, although "open-air" is not the way I would describe it. It is basically a huge collection of stalls, most under zinc roofs. It is cramped and disorganized, and basically just keeps growing out and out without any planning or supervision. My second day living in Nicaragua, the market had a huge fire, which could be seen from where I was living, which is quite a ways away. I believe the fire was electrical, just showing how the market is completely unregulated. Ivan has always tried to avoid going to the market because of the dangers that can be found there, and Mercado Huembes is much closer to us, and much safer. But the time came where we needed to go to buy a couple new faucets that cost $50 each at the hardware store and we wanted to find a better deal. Before you go, you need to make sure you are dressed right. You shouldn't wear anything that makes you stand out, or look particularly nice, just plain jeans and t-shirt are best. All jewelry should be removed (I forgot to take off my silver necklace which I always wear, but luckily no one snatched it off my neck). No purse or bag, just the money you need stashed away in a pocket or sock, and I brought my cell phone, in case I got lost, and it isnt really worth much anyway. And of course we called David, our favorite sidekick that is always down for anything, to come along! Along the perimeter of the market there are some nicer stores, which are big and clean. Once you enter into the market, it gets dark and hot pretty quickly. The walk-ways are narrow and there are always people coming through this big carts selling different things and you need to try and get out of their way, and hopefully you wont back up into one of the open-fire grills cooking baho (a nicaraguan beef stew-like dish, which David and I enjoy later in the journey). The market does have some sort of organization, all similar products are together. So there is a hardware section, a fruit section, shoes section, etc etc. I would think it would be better for business to be spread out, but I guess they do pretty well. It took us awhile to find where the hardware section was. We walked through mostly clothing and shoes. We found the faucets and were able to buy them both for about $30, much better than spending $100! After, as we tried to find our way out, David and I stopped to enjoy some baho and I bought lots and lots of coconut water to make my coconut-papaya shakes every morning! Ivan took some picutes, luckily, he didnt get robbed! There are varying accounts about how dangerous the market is. Certainly since nothing happened to us, and we didnt see anything, it is easy to say, "aww, no big deal". But of course, we took precautions and were probably lucky. I have read some accounts that there is a stabbing every nine minutes in the market and heard of many people being robbed, even as far as people being kidnapped and never heard for again. Of course, I guess that could happen anywhere. Although we only saw a small part of this gigantic market, it is possible to get just about anything there, from car parts, to shampoos, wedding dresses, and furniture. Its all there, even many black market items, like guns, protected animals, you name it, I am sure it can be found there. I don't think it will take me another four years to go back to Oriental, but I do not think it is the #2 thing to do in Managua!

Monday, October 17, 2011

The Tribulations of Animal Lovers in Managua

Living in Managua has its ups and downs. I have days where I feel like I own the city, sun shining as I driving down the palm-lined boulevards, running into friends every place I go! Warm nights spent dancing under the stars and talking with good friends drinking Flor de CaƱa, with the sweet smell of midnight-blooming jasmine in the air. And then there are the not so good days, which almost always involve people being extremly stupid or inconsiderate and I usually encounter this on the road and sometimes in the malls and always in the movie theater. I also often get flushed with anger whenever I have to wait in ridiculously long lines, which is any time I go to the bank or the super market. Call me crazy, but I dont think an hour of my Saturday should be spent waiting in line to cash a check! And then there are the inexplicable rules like only one person is allowed at the banking counter, so Ivan cannot come up with me..which is the only one that comes to mind right now, but believe me there are many more!

But all that does not compare to the poverty I drive by on the streets every day...in a way you need to almost become numb to it, or else it will eat you alive from the inside out. It is so hard not to give money to the kids out working the street in the hot sun, or playing in traffic when they should be tucked into bed. But what really gets to me is the animals. I know some people might say its horrible to care so much about animals when humans are suffering just the same, but thats one of the reasons why I love Albert Schweitzer so much. He made it okay to care for all living things, "A man is ethical only when life, as such, is sacred to him, that of plants and animals as that of his fellow men, and when he devotes himself helpfully to all life that is in need of help". I guess what touches me most about animals is that they are so innocent, even more so than the children, who sadly have to lose their innocence very quickly. Animals, especially dogs, have been bred over tens of thousands of years to depend on humans and crave their love and attention. I wonder if dogs on the street are ever able to feel real contentment without the companionship of a human. And its not just the street dogs, its the cute little puppies in cages, being sold on the side of the road. I know most of those dogs won't be going to a good home. Dogs are something that a lot of the upper class in Nicaragua have, but I dont know why. Often times when I go to their houses the dogs are leashed or penned up in the backyard. They say they have to keep them tided up because they are too hyper and run and jump all over everything. But they just cant see that the dog is that way because it is tied up all day! It needs exercise, training and a lots of love and attention.

In my 3+ years here I have seen many cases of completely hopeless dogs and like I try and save birds that fall out of nests, I can't help but try to take care of the dogs and cats. There was this one dog next door a few years ago with puppies that we would feed every day, but I think it was too late and they all ended up dying from a disease. The puppies were shacky when they walked, like they had a neurological disorder.

The guards at Ivan's work have adopted a street dog there and called her Canela (Cinnamon). They were so excited when she became pregnant. Of course Ivan asked them, who is going to take care of all those puppies, you guys can barely feed Canela? I guess that is the common reaction here, to be happy when someone gets pregnant, even if they cannot support themselves. So Ivan is the one taking care of Canela now, buying her food so she can produce milk for her 7 puppies. Ivan has also taken up a collection in order to get Canela fixed as soon as she can leave her puppies and he is working on finding good homes to adopt the little guys as soon as they are ready. So hopefully that story has a happy ending.



We also have this dog at the end of our street. When I first saw her several months ago, I thought she was a good looking dog, looked more like a Boxer than a street dog. She had puppies and they were running around for awhile. Then we started to see this ghost of a dog walking around, the same dog, only skin and bones. It would break my heart just to look at her. I felt so bad looking away, but sometimes it was all I could do, because what could I really do? Well the other night Ivan and I saw her and decided to bring her out some food, since we have dog food now to feed Canela. Her body is thin and frail and her face so sad. Looking into her eyes made me cry. Tonight when Ivan went out to feed her he spoke to the people down the street that she supposedly "belongs to". They said she was old and had a disease. When Ivan asked how old, they said they didnt know...I am sure she is not only, just sick and very very thin. Ivan thinks they stole her, although I dont know why they would when they cant take care of her. But she is more than just a street dog because her ears are clipped, which leads me to believe that she is a pure bred and belonged to someone before. They said that she eventually killed her puppies, probably because it was wither their lives or hers, the more they nursed, the thinner she got. Ivan told them that he was going to take her in to get put down. It is so hard to "play god", but really is there a more humane option?





We also started feeding some cats in the neighborhood, well actually a cat and her two kittens. And it looks like the momma might be pregnant again. The kittens are cute, the calico one is really mean and doesnt let his sibling eat, so we have to feed her from another dish. I dont know if I should be happy he is so tough or sad that he is a bully.





Ivan found a kitten outside his office a few months ago. I was thinking about getting a pal for Luna, so I was happy that Ivan just found a kitten. She was young, eyes had just opened, but something was wrong with her eyes. We fed her some milk with a syringe and image her mom must have abandoned her because of the problems she was having with her eyes. The vet said she had a common cat disease which causes blindness and that she was in pain. He said it could be possible with a lot of treatment for her to survive, but she would be blind. We made the hard decision to put her down and shared some sad moments with the vet.

As I said, living here has its ups and downs. Its downs are usually when I let the reality of it all sink in. I much prefer the reality of my apartment, where little Luna is treated like a princess and she has no idea what a big bad world it is out there, and hopefully never will!


Thursday, July 14, 2011

Rio San Juan: 100% Nica

All over Managua on signs, bumper stickers, graffiti, radio stations, tv ads, even a song, you can see/hear something about el Rio San Juan and how its 100 percent Nicaraguan. Why the obsession with what percentage the San Juan River is Nicaraguan? The river serves as a natural boundary between Nicaragua and Costa Rica, atleast for some of the border. But throughout history this border has been disputed and Costa Rica has wanted a piece of it. This is only part of the story of the bad blood between these two countries. They are not political enemies by any means, but there is a hostility between the people, much like the relationship between the US and France. Recently the conflict has been renewed and Costa Rica and Nicaragua again argue over the San Juan River, troops have been sent to reinforce the border. So the people in Managua (and I am sure other places of the country, but Managua is what I know) are very adamant about this river being theirs. The sad part is that many people have never been to this place that they claim so unyieldingly as their own, including myself, until last weekend!

Many people have not been to Rio San Juan because of the trip, it is a bitch! There are basically 3 ways to get there: by air (which is generally too expensive for most Nicas and travelers), by boat (which is a 16 hour ordeal across Lake Nicaragua/Colcibolca), or by land (a 300 km bus trip which cost about $8). Now clearly the land options seems to be the way to go, but until recenly those 300 km took 9 hours or more, as described in my Moon guidebook on Nica "the road disintegrates entirely and your bus is left to batter its way at walking speed for hours through gulleys, rutted tracks, and mud pits". Woohoo! Luckily the road from Managua to San Carlos (the port town located where the river meets the lake) is almost finished, so the ride is not so bad. We still passed over some bridges, so narrow and without side rails, where when looking out the bus window all I could see was a straight drop to the water below! Yikes! For some reason, the bus ride still took about 8 hours, our driver made prolonged stops and chatted with his buddies along the way. Unfortunately, we left in the wee hours of the morning and so I slept most of the way, but when I was awoken to my head banging against the bus window, my hazy eyes caught some breath-taking views of green mountains, distant volcanoes and lots and lots of green pastures. The music on the bus was horrible, for one it was insanely loud, and it was some sort of 70s, early 80s disco music that I had never heard before. There was also a guy behind me playing his music with speakers and singing along! The whole thing made me feel gross, so I put on my ipod and found a more appropriate soundtrack for my journey.

As I mentioned before, the bus was not express, and many people were not going from Managua to San Carlos, but rather to two places in between. Once when I woke up a found myself sitting next to a rather handsome old vaquero: cowbot hat, boots and all. Several times the bus had to stop because a herd of cows was in the road...of course this is a common happening in Managua as well, but in any event, we were in cow country! Finally we arrived in San Carlos, in the pouring rain no less, and caught a cab that took us rather indirectly (picking up and dropping off 2 other people first) to the boat terminal. We did get to see the airport along the way, which consists of little more than a short, overgrown runway. I think I would fly down in the future, but only if my dad comes with me and can take over if anything goes wrong!

I guess by now I should have mentioned who I was traveling with...Tressa pretty much organized the whole thing. She is a fellow teacher at Lincoln, originally from Michigan. She has a very soft, calming voice and I have always wanted to observe one of her classes to see if she can maintain that same voice when teaching, that would just amaze me! Tressa's friend from college Vicky also came along. She had been volunteering with Manna Project all summer and took some time to travel at the end of her service. She is in medical school at Vanderbilt and her mom is Chinese, but was born and raised in Puerta Cabazas Nicaragua, so she has strong ties here.



The three of us boarded the panga (boat which holds about 50 people) to travel 2 hours up the San Juan river. The journey was beautiful and flew by! I listened to my audio book (since I get motion sick) and watched the lovely scenery pass by. We arrived on the small docks of Boca de Sabalos, a small town along the river and our hotel boat crossed the river to come pick us up. The hotel was right on the river and was basically a huge deck with rooms on it. We could hear the splashing under us, even while in our room. I treated myself to a crayfish for dinner, I was starving, we hadnt eaten all day! I also had the most amazing ice cream for dessert. I forgot to ask more about it, because it is hard to find good ice cream in Nicaragua, and certainly didnt expect to find it two hours up the San Juan river! We retired to bed early after killing about a thousand small moths that snuck into our room when we opened the door. The new room rule: never open the door at night when the light is on...that eliminated the problem.

The next morning we woke up at a leisurely hour, had a hardy breakfast, and did some riverside yoga to stretch out from the long bus ride the day before. We, at a very relaxing and leisurely pace, made our way up the river about 30 minutes to the town of El Castillo. El Castillo is so aptly named for the castle, or fort that was built during the Spanish Conquest. The fort is strategically placed on a hillside where you can see a far distance up and down the river. We paid a small amount to enter the museum and castle ruins (although it turned into a predicament because the ticket lady had no change, as is quite normal in Nicaragua, but nonetheless annoying). The museum was actually quite impressive and tells the history of the river which is full of tales of pirates, conquistadors, rum, gold, power struggles and people getting eaten by crocodiles and fresh water sharks! The river was/is the passageway from the Atlantic to the interior of Nicaragua and the important city of Granada. This was also almost the location of the Panama Canal, which obviously would have had a different name, probably the Nicaragua Canal. There would have been a lot less digging, only a short distance between Lake Nicaragua and the Pacific Ocean, but in the end Nicaragua did not want to give the US complete control over the waterway and so Panama now famously has the canal. Yet another time when Nicaraguans were not willing to give up the precious San Juan River, and who can blame them? Although my mind does get lost in the possibilities of what could have been for Nicaragua if they had this important conduit of maritime trade...The museum also stated that the area of Rio San Juan is the second biggest oxygen producer in the world, which is cool and hard to believe!



Exploring the castle was fun! A photographers dream, besides the obvious gorgeous view from a semi-refurbished colonial fort, there were lots of great colors textures,and angles. I did the best I could to capture some good shots in the limited time we had there, as they closed for lunch and we had to catch the boat back to the hotel at 2. So we wandered around the very clean town for a bit and got a home cooked meal in a comedor, which is basically someones house, with some tables set up out front and you eat whatever they prepared for lunch or dinner. Later that night we set up a tour from our hotel to go caimen hunting (searching not killing).

After sunset we head out in a boat with two guides. One stood on the front of the boat with a flashlight. He could spot the eyes of the caimen because they glow in the dark. The bigger ones disappeared pretty quickly once we got close, but the smaller ones didnt know any better. Julio Cesar, the guide, captured one and brought it on board for us to see. It was so cute, about a month old and pretty calm. He squirmed a bit at first, but then let us poke and prod at him, poor thing. The entire trip, which lasted a couple of hours, we asked Julio Cesar all sorts of morbid questions like, "How many people get attacked by crocodiles or sharks a year? How often does the river flood? How many people die drowning in the river each year? How many boating accidents are there?" HIs answers were kind of boring...seems like a pretty safe place to live. I think he thought we were crazy Managuans, or worse, crazy gringas! We went down this really beautiful tributary, it was calm and quiet and quite enchanting. We saw this really huge fish surface, the guide said it was a prehistoric-type fish. It was a magical evening.





The next morning we took an early morning canoe ride down the tributary through the town of Sabalos, which is on both sides of the river bank. It was quiet and peaceful. We saw some beautiful birds and even a pair of monkeys climbing high in the tree tops. Later we went to an Organic Cacao Cooperative in Sabalos. They get the cacao seeds from many small cooperative farms along the river. They ferment and dry out the seeds. I am not sure if they roast them, or if that is done by the chocolate manufacturer. The guy who showed us around was a cacao genius! He says he does not drink coffee, or alcohol and does not smoke in order to keep his taste buds in their best condition to taste test the cacao. The fermenting process was kinda gross, but later we were able to toast some seeds and try them out and it was delicious. When the guy tasted it he closed his eyes and said all the flavors he tasted and the % in which he tasted them. Kinda like one of those wine tasting snobs. But he must be super healthy, besides laying off smoking and booze, I saw (on Dr Oz maybe) that cacao is the 2nd best thing you can put in your body after water, I don't know if its true, but I would like to believe it is! Anyway, their biggest buyer is a German company called Ritter Sport, which I have seen before. It is amazing how so much of delicious "European" chocolate we buy is really from Central America originally. I was also amazed how this little, almost kind of primative cooperative is able to produce so much quality organic cacao. They were really organized and meticulous about what they did, which was especially impressive to me because I feel like I don't often see that in Nicaragua and did not expect to see it in the countryside.

I was sad to leave and hope I can return again. The people at the hotel were so kind and helpful. The people were soft spoken, yet warm and friendly. Very different from what I am used to in Managua, but I guess this is true of anywhere you go, city people are more hard and cold, country people are more kind and welcoming. Unfortunately this kindness does not seem to extend even to San Carlos, which is by no means a city. Before getting on the bus in San Carlos, I tried to find a bathroom. I had just been on a boat for 2 hours and had a 6-8 hour bus ride ahead of me, a bathroom was essential! I asked around a few places near the bus and they turned me away. Finally I found this comedor/hostel type place and the guy outside said there was a bathroom. But when I kindly asked the woman inside she turned me away, even after she surely saw the desperation in my face! Vicky, taking pity on me and needing a bathroom herself, set off to see what she could find. She eventually convinced the same woman to let her use the bathroom, and I was able to go back again, and she let me in as well. This did not leave a good impression of San Carlos on me! Apparently, others feel the same way, my Moon guidebook says people "try to make their stay here as short as possible" and quotes writer Eduard Marriot in saying San Carlos is "a place where the air smelled sour...where dead animals lay unremarked in the streets for days; where each day felt hotter than the last; where things of all kinds felt near their end" and I will add, where people reluctantly let you use their bathroom, even when its an emergency!

The bus ride home was much quicker than the way down. We only made one long stop along the way. The music was better as well, it was again insanely loud, but the driver was playing rica bachata, atleast until it got late and I wanted to fall asleep, then he started playing obnoxious rancheras. Ayyyyyy! The important thing is we got back to Managua safely and had an amazing trip. I am excited to share Rio San Juan with my next visitor! Who will it be?

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Worst Airport Evah!

So I land in Miami, not too excited to be back at this airport. After a long taxi we stop. After waiting several minutes the captain informs us that we are just waiting for a plane to taxi out of the way so we can get into our gate. We wait more. Then the captain tells us that the plane we are waiting for needs to be towed out, and they are waiting for a tow to come and get it. Waiting, waiting, waiting, 35 minutes after touchdown we are able to taxi to our gate.

Welcome to Miami, I knew you would be good to me!

As I am trying to make my way to immigration there are two women who work for the airport pushing two men in wheelchairs, walking side by side, chatting and taking their time. No one can pass them because they are walking side by side. Finally a way around in sight! One of those speed walker things, but in Miami I guess they move a little slower, the thing was packed, people we walking slow and the thing seemed to be moving slow. Now the ladies pushing the wheelchairs are moving faster than us! So still stuck behind the wheelchairs by the time I get off!

Luckily the lines at immigration are not too long. I get up to the stand and the border patrol officer has a low, raspy voice, kinda like Moto Moto, the hippo in Madagascar 2, but not sexy at all.

BP Officer: "So you live in Managua?"
Me: "Yes"
BP Officer: "What would you do there?"
Me: "I am a teacher"
BP Officer: "What do you teach?"
Me: "Social Studies"
BP Officer: "Oh so you speak Spanish?"
Me: "Yes, but I teach in English"
BP Officer: "Oh so you speak English?"
Me: "Ummm...yesss"
BP Officer: "So you were born in Hawaii?"
Me: "Yes"
BP Officer: "How was that?"
Me: "Goood??"

I have never been asked about being born in Hawaii, ever, until I came through Miami. Last month when I came in through Miami they were questioning me about that too. He asked, if my middle name is Hawaiian? And then did I know what my middle name means? And then he asked me, "ok, what does it mean?" He then told me he used to live in Hawaii. It was a strange conversation, come to think of it maybe it was the same officer....

Anyway, it was kinda fun looking around when going through customs, there were all sorts of people getting searched and questioned and taken into back rooms and waiting in strange unmarked lines, I feel like I don’t see that anywhere else. So that part was exciting!

I make it through immigration and got my luggage and dropped it off, which was much better then when I did this a month ago and the place to drop off my luggage was just two people standing in a corridor with a sign saying drop luggage here. I felt lucky when my suitcase made it to Toronto, I had walked away thinking I was tricked into giving random people my luggage.

Unlike my last visit, there was actually a screen to check my gate. And the security entrance and terminal were clearly marked! Yes! Except for the 35 minute tarmac delay and the weird immigration encounter, this may not be so bad!

So walking to my gate, D57. Wow, it is far, all the way at the end of the D concourse, took me a good 15 minutes to get there, well kinda, so I get to D55 and then there is a sign to go down the stairs to D60, I think maybe D56-60 are all down there, but no, it is just D60, but with several gates, going to different places.

Confuse me!

So I go back upstairs and confirm that several destinations are flying out of one gate D60 and so where is my gate, D57? Yes it is D57. But it just skips D56-59. So I retrace my steps and go back to see if there was some strange turn or arrow, or up or down stairs area to these mysterious gates. Nope. Again feeling lost in the retched airport! I look at their nearest screen, Boston D8. What...D8? Desde cuando? I checked like 3 times and it was D57. And certainly I couldn’t have confused an 8 for a 57, maybe 51 or 75, but not 8!

Alright, so I guess I am going to have to walk all the way back down this looong-ass concourse. Only the terminal didn’t start with D1, so in order to get to D8, I have to walk upstairs and board the freaking sky train in order to get there! As I board the sky train I hear a familiar accent and see some big Irish boys wearing old-school Patriots hats and I know I must be on the right track.

So, to recap: my plane landed at 11:40am, and I arrive at my gate at 2:30pm. So much for getting lots of paper correcting done! Thank god I didn’t have a close connection! And as I sit here at the gate, every other announcement is a gate change. Way to be Miami airport, living up to your sucky reputation like nobody’s business.

Addendum: After I wrote this and boarded the plane, my flight got delayed an hour and a half (ok not the airport's fault). The guy next to me is on the phone going on about how much Miami airport sucks, and how there has got to be a better way to get into and out of Florida, and how he must have walked over a mile in the airport! I feel you buddy! You were looking for D57 too, huh?!

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

How Have I Been Here for Almost Two Years and Not Known About...

ZAPOTE?!

I went to visit my drive-up fruit guy today to buy pitahaya (dragon fruit), it just came into season and I am so happy about it. In addition to the pitahaya and limes that I bought he asked if I wanted some zapote. I said I didnt know what it was. He seemed surprised and went to get one. Leaning into the passenger's side window he showed me this round fruit with a rough brown exterior. He cut out a slice to reveal a bright, dark, rich, orange flesh, with a beautiful dark brown seed, much like that of an avocado. I tasted the slice and then quickly told him I would buy it!


The texture of the fruit reminds me of a cross between an avocado, banana, papaya and a yam. The taste, I cant quite describe. I keep eating more and more of it to try to put my finger on at least one thing it tastes like. It is sweet, mild and kinda creamy. One website said it has a "berry-like" flavor, which I disagree with because it is in no way sour or tangy, as many berries can be. It has some soft strings, not like a mango, more like an avocado and they have a stronger, more fragrant taste, that tastes some how familiar. Ooooo and I am discovering as I eat more and more of it, that it actually has three pretty seeds in the middle and not just one. I haven't been able to find too much about what health benefits the zapote provides besides the obvious high level of anti-oxidants that many bright colored fruits have, as well as a good source of fiber.

Zapote is now my new obsession, and I am sure will make for some fun new shakes and dessert ideas!

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Mass Murder of Ants

Since we have moved to the apartment behind our old apartment we have been invaded by ants. Now ants were always a problem, Sabine used to complain about them in her spotless kitchen! We have the same problem, although our kitchen is not always spotless but, once the lights go out, the ants take over, its gross, but there's not much that can be done.

This time the Leaf-cutter ants attacked my bougainvilleas. It went from a flowering, green leafy plant to a bunch of leafless branches in what seemed like a day or two! We can always see ants walking in their little line, carrying bits of leaves, hard at work. It never really bothered me that much until they took all the leaves of my plant! So I went to the hardware store and got this poison. The guy told me to sprinkle it in their path and they will pick it up and bring it back to the nest (or whatever the place ants live is called) and die. It seemed easy enough. Ivan and I went outside and found the line of ants and sprinkled the little green disks along their path.

We watched as they started picking them up and carrying them along their way back home. I was amazed that it worked so fast, the ants immediately picked them up, but then I started feeling guilty. I was tricking them and they were carrying off poison that would kill them all! I have never liked killing living things. Ask my dad who I would call up into my room when there was a spider, but then ask him to capture it and bring it outside instead of killing it. I would often do that myself, if I was brave enough. Although here the insects are sometimes a little too big and scary to do this and Ivan doesn't go for capturing it and putting it outside. So I have had to get used to the killing of little and big insect alike. And just to be clear, I think cockroaches are the only thing I don't care about killing. I cant decide if they are more gross dead or alive, I certainly dont like killing them because of their gooey insides and but I have no remorse for them when they are gone.

I was surprised that Ivan was saddened by our massive ant murder as well. At first I thought he was just making fun of me, but then he suggested even cleaning up the poison we had left out and said that we were messing with the circle of life. It is true. When we went outside tonight we only saw one ant on the ant road, poor thing doesnt know where all his friends went. I dont know, maybe I have watched too many of those movies, "Antz" or "A Bug's Life", but both Ivan and I were feeling pretty bad about the whole thing.

No Thanks! No Time!

(The title is for you, Cales!)

The past two months have been busy, busy, busy and have flown by! The week after starting school again after Christmas break my Master's classes began. Framingham State College has some sort of international program, I am not sure if it is only for masters of teaching or if they offer other fields of study, but it is a pretty cool program. The professors that have come have taught courses all over the world. It is kinda nice too to have people from Massachusetts come, some of them have accents and it is enjoyable to listen to.

So I started one class last summer, classes were offered in Jan and Feb and then two again in June once classes got out. I didnt do the classes in Jan and Feb last year because I was too stressed out with the day to day pressures of school in general. Now I wish I had at least taken one course. The program takes two years (9 courses). So I will finish next summer. And since I decided to stay another year, I though I should take advantage of this opportunity. Well actually it was one of the reasons I decided to stay another year too. The master's is technically in International Education, which I am not sure will hold up in public schools in the States, but it will at least look good, maybe help with private schools in the States and definitely be great if I come back to teach in Managua again, or anywhere else. The school that hosted the Teacher's Conference I went to in the Dominican Republic in October was really, really nice. Maybe I will become an International teacher and just teach my way around all the places I want to visit in the world!

The first course was Technology in the Classroom, which was an awesome class and I learned lots of new ways to integrate technology in the classroom and learned how to make little movies, which was the best part of the class. There was also a nice atmosphere and classmates were supportive and class was fun and went by quickly. Classes are held from 4-7 M-F and 8-5 Saturdays for two weeks. During the first week of class I was on a cleanse diet. I had seen a lot about them on talk shows around New Years time, saying that people should do them at least once a year and they sounded pretty great. Plus, just the week before I suffered through 2 days of food poisoning from some tacos I bought on the street. Not fun! So I thought it would be a good time to clean out my system and what a perfect place to do it where there is endless fresh fruit and veggies for cheap! But, this diet requires a lot of prep. When you eat only raw fruits and vegetables, you are basically eating constantly, and so each night I was up late chopping and preparing tupperwares full of papaya, pineapple, melon, carrots, celery, etc. The diet was nice, I didnt notice some of the promised effects like brighter, whiter eyes, or luminous skin. But I did feel good every day.

After that class ended we had a one week break to catch our breath and then the next class started with the same schedule. The next class was Special Ed in the Regular Ed classroom. The class was interesting, and I learned a lot, but the class over all just had a really bad feeling to it. We started off class with a debate over inclusion of a downs syndrome student in a regular classroom. It was a great way to learn about the pros and cons of this issue, that is a hot topic, but some people seemed to take the debate personally and had strong feelings about it and there just seemed to be this lingering animosity for the remaining two weeks. The professor wasnt very dynamic and the class seemed to drag on each night.

Also during this time Ivan and I started Salsa Casino classes, which we have been wanting to take since I moved here. Ivan of course has a natural feel for dancing salsa, and I had lessons a few years earlier in Leon, but I dance rigidly, 1, 2, 3, forward, backward, side, side. So our salsa styles werent quite compatible, but it is something we both enjoy doing, so we thought taking a class together would be great! Classes are Tues and Thurs from 730 to 9. So after my masters classes ended at 7, I would go meet Ivan and usually have to change in the car so we could be on time for classes. After class, we would eat a late dinner and I would have to stay up late doing homework or writing a paper.

On top of all of this I found out that I need to apply for the Master Program, duh, seems pretty obvious, but, big surprise, the school never told me and I had asked them about it and they said I just need to take the classes. Well that isnt the case, as I found out from some others in the class. I was supposed to matriculate before taking my third course, but this was impossible as the application needs to be mailed to the school, it cannot be sent digitally. I got an extension until the end of Feb, and luckily Ivan's Uncle was visiting from Miami and so after I ran around and got all the letters of rec I needed and wrote an essay, etc, etc, I sent the package home with Ivan's Uncle, who will mail it along for me.

So now classes are over (YAY!), Ivan and I still have salsa classes, which are nice to be able to go to with more energy. I am playing a bit of correcting catch up and enjoying those extra hours I have each day.