Chiguines

My days here are full of children. They come to the house in the morning and our door, always left open, has groups of them coming and going all day and into the evening. They come in the morning to pass the early sunny hours outside; they come in the afternoon for math lessons, to draw, to play in the garden dirt or card games outside on the patio, and they come in the evenings to chat and draw some more, or to flip through the pages of our animal encyclopedia, the book favored by all. There are several groups that we know the best and visit us often, all together about fourteen kids with several others that come by less frequently.

They bring all their friends, siblings, and cousins to the house. Together they come in the evening and have dance parties where they invent the best moves I’ve ever seen, mixing ranchero swing, salsa and interpretive dance all together. They help you get oranges from the trees, climbing among the branches like agile monkeys while I wait on the ground always terrified. They help to water the plants in the garden and plant cloves of garlic in the earth to grow. If you need bananas, or flour from the venta, they go get it for you. If they know you are alone in the house they will come by to see you so you won’t be lonely or afraid.

They come to take you to their houses for visits there, to toast and grind coffee, to make tortillas, or to review their homework where I always try and sneak in extra problems disguised as fun. They take you to their homes where you can meet their mothers, always standing above the stove, and who no matter how little they have, always offer you a taste, or a fresh cup of coffee always full of sugar. They will tell you the story of their family, and give you the tour of their back yards with their pilas, pig pens and adobe bricks drying in the sun.

As you walk the streets of little Cusmapa, the whole ten minutes it takes to cross town, they holler at you from gardens unseen, from open windows and doorways, passing in the street: “Adios Profe Loren!” Walking by the house in the morning they yell outside your window “Buenos dias profesoras!” or my eternal favorite “Buenos dias amigitas!” (Good morning little friends!).

These little visits light up my days, they fill the slow times with meaning. Still, sometimes it takes no small amount of patience to give of yourself and your space all day to so many energetic, attention-thirsty chigüines. Some days, when the third group shows up at my door, I have to take in a slow, deep breath and re-gather my energies before getting out the next game or laying out the next sheet of drawing paper. I try to remember always that really, these kids teach me more everyday than I can them. I always hope to rise to this challenge and return to them all the energy they give me, to be the most attentive and present companion I can.

Barbas y Piratas

For your chuckling pleasure....

Feliz dia del Amor y Amistad

----> I cut it again yesterday, and now it is REALLY short.

I was given the key to my new classroom today, and it is beautiful. I've got a giant old fashioned green slate chalkboard, desks without missing wood planks that won't give my students splinters, two big desks for myself and a little bookshelf. There are windows running the length of the room on two sides providing so much natural light I don't need to turn on the lights at all...and the windows have glass...so hopefully the room won't be all wet in the rainy season. The room is on the second floor of one of our new buildings...the only two story buildings in town. Pretty cool.

One other bit of fun...Chele, he just has so many fun ideas, told me today that on Saturday we need to put guaro in the garden...(yes, that's moonshine)...I didn't understand why, some kind of pesticide I think. I say one for the garden...one for me...one for the garden...one for me....

Quick Bits of Fun

Chele Mancho told me yesterday, as he was dusting all the plants in our garden with sugar, that doing so will attract ants that will eat the worms that are eating the garden. His very own brand of organic pesticide. I can't wait to see how an ant manages to eat a worm.....oh, Chele...

We had an amazing Sunday afternoon with lots of kids, drawing giant sheets of paper colaboratively, sidewalk chalking, face painting...it was fun, and there are photos on flickr. Facundo and his family all came from the community down the mountain where they live. It was great to finally meet his wife and see all of them together, they are a beautiful family and his wife is incredible. At almost forty years old she will be going to school this year on saturdays to work toward earning her highschool diploma.

In other fun, I cut all my hair off, it feels good. I think I may cut it much shorter still in the coming weeks, vamos a ver. The kids and passersby in the street act like they've never seen me before, I think maybe they think I'm a new gringa in town and that La Lorena must have gone back home to the States.

errrrrggggg

I had meetings for sixteen hours in the last two days. The first day we half spent preparing for the second...and the second day our boss said completely different things than he had the first...he lied to us the first day and then changed his story when the rest of the staff was there. I've never felt so frustrated, Callie and I practically got in a yelling match with him in front of all the educators at our school...and his subdirectors (he is the director of education) just laughed at us. Some days the complete lack of direction, organization, competency, and work ethic are just maddening!!!


I must remember: small steps...baby steps....

Cusmapan of the Month: CheleMancho!

And now, for our first co-written blog (well, Callie-written, I chimed in my ideas here and there), the Cusmapan of the Month: CheleMancho!!!!!!
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"buENNNNNAAAsssss!" Maximo, the happiest man in Cusmapa choruses as he briskly walks past our front door into the budding garden. Lauren and I giggle because every time he greets us, he sounds like a car whizzing past "vvvvvrrrOOOOOOOmmm!"

Maximo, known as "Chelemancho" or "el Chele" by his fellow Cusmapans, is the 40-some-year-old thick-mustached school gardener, and has Lauren and my vote for "Cusmapan of the Month", our new feature series here on blog-land.

Chelemancho's area of expertise, horticultura (gardening), is showcased day-after-day here at the school. He teaches students (and us gringas) about a variety of plants and their medicinal properties, and practical uses as well. According to Chelemancho, if a small cactus is placed in front of your computer screen, it will absorb the powerful and dangerous UV rays emitted from the computer, protecting you from certain doom. Chelemancho also believes that if Lauren and I drink the tea made from flowers of a plant he's cultivated in our garden, we will be "flying airplanes for three days". He sprinkles laundry detergent and chili water throughout our vegetable patch to deter pests and parasites. The dirt excavated from our yard to build a compost pile is currently "frozen" though it has been unearthed for over 3 months (and the temperature here never gets below 50 degrees). Chele claims that the earth must sit in the sun for six months or one year before being used for gardening purposes. He also presented us with some type of sketchy fruit wine which apparently has the power to solve all of our intestinal issues. AND he politely informed me the other day that once our beets and tomatoes come in, if we eat a plethora, we can consume all the oil our hearts desire and it will have no negative effect on our bodies.

Chelemancho lives on the edge of Cusmapa, in a large cabin-like structure (owned by a gringo ex-Peace Corps volunteer who got married to one of our co-workers then ditched town, but not before buying a significant amount of property) which overlooks the valley and communities below, offering the best sunset lookout in town. Chele's "screened" porch includes a variety of entry points for hungry mosquitoes, a single hammock for napping purposes, a handful of halved Coke containers with sprouting flowers, and in baby-blue paint the word MANCHO stomps across one wall. He tells stories of the olden times in Cusmapa, where during the rainy season our half of town was cut off from the rest because there was no bridge. For a few months of every year, he used to live off the land and read gardening books in languages he does not speak.

Chele has recently taken to sporting a navy-blue and white checkered blazer, complete with shoulder pads. We believe the blazer may have previously been owned by an obese NASCAR official. It gives Chele this robotic gangster look that's simply marvelous.

What we love most about Chelemancho is his constant state of glee. He is, perhaps, the jolliest man we have ever met. Even when describing the hardships of life, Chele meets the world with a grin, eyes crinkled at the sides, moustache corners tickling his rosy cheeks. Yesterday, he arrived at our house completely sweaty and out of breath, wheezing: "I've been riding my bike so much lately that now whenever I walk I am exhausted!" and with a chortle, trotted off to water our plants.

Lauren decided to collect leaves from our banana tree to dry them for book-making purposes. Chele, busy as usual planting eggplant and strawberries, sprung from his gardeners stoop when his watch alarm beeped at 5 PM on the dot, exclaiming, "Y ahora, estoy alegre para estar un dia mas viejito!" (translation: "and NOW, I am happy to be one day older!").

Entonces, Chelemancho wins the award for "Cusmapanian of the Month: Febrero 2008" for his unlimited knowledge of the plant world, unrivaled sense of style, the best and fullest moustache we have seen in years, and for his revolutionary philosophy on aging. Now we are off to drink flower petal tea and "fly airplanes" or maybe find a few cacti to absorb the death rays being transmitted by our laptops.

Hats off to you, Chele. May your 5 PM alarm continue to beep-beep for decades to come.

Art! I saw art!

I had yet to see a real art space in Nicaragua so I took my time meandering through the streets of Leon on my way to the art museum....I wasted a full hour of the hour and a half that I had...and when I finally arrived, I had only thirty minutes to rush through the halls of the best collection of art this country must have. There was real art, and lots of it. I could have spent three days there. And now, to go back, I have to spend seven hours on a bus.

For me, to visit that place again, is reason enough to make the trip and pay for the hostel while I'm there. I left that museum inspired and ready to create. I have neglected my creative impulses far too long. I think maybe today I'll get messy with some charcoal.