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Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Esteli, Boaco, Camoapa
I finally made it to Camoapa, my old assignment to see the friends, and of course Jessica and Emily.
On my way bus hopping to Camoapa, I found out that I was going to have to wait hours and hours in the sun at San Benito where every time that I have passed, not a word of a lie, I have seen men arrested by police officers, handcuffed and carried off in front of us. It makes for a great show, but I didn't think I wanted to see reruns; so I hopped a different bus and met the girls in Boaca, la ciudad de do pisos, the two-floored city.
Boaco was once a simple town on the mountainside. During the civil war, the guerilla fighting in the countryside forced the campesinos to flee to the relative safety of Boaco, and the city explanded rapidly and spilled into the valley below and up the side of the facing mountain. What remains today is a Dr Suess-esque, paradaisaical, idealistic, teetery-tottery-two-tiered town. Stepping into Boaco felt like stepping back in time 50 years into Latin-America's Mayberry.
From Boaco, Camoapa is a dusty, bumpy, bus-wheezing, hilly, low-gear-grinding 3 hour trek back. Half asleep on the way there, I deliriously rotated between two thoughts: (a) "Where the heck am I? I don't remember getting on this bus", and (b) "The last time I was here in service we watched as the bus simply quit, rendida, gasping and wheezing - please, please just make it up this hill!"
But, finally we made it back to good ol' cowtown Camoapa.
I never get tired of this uniform: pressed Jeans, shiny shoes or cowboy boots and sharp shirt - boys take note, anyone looks good in this.
Service in Camoapa:
After this travelling it was really nice to get home to Esteli; although things here have been action packed as well. The C.O. visit is this week:
Recently there was also some kind of day of the dead where everyone repaints, decorates and gives flowers and other gifts to the graves of their loved ones. Esteli was full of flower stalls.
Our congregation made an interesting arrangement: A service group went to the cemetery, jam-packed as it was with friends and family of the dead and flower and food vendors for some approach work. At home I would be intimidated to try something like that, but here it just works so well!
The ministry here is definitely different from at home; you spend 2 hours or more in the sun in the territory, talking to someone at every door - so for a little break, this could be what you would do:
What can I say? They love their baseball.
Love from Nicaragua
Meag
On my way bus hopping to Camoapa, I found out that I was going to have to wait hours and hours in the sun at San Benito where every time that I have passed, not a word of a lie, I have seen men arrested by police officers, handcuffed and carried off in front of us. It makes for a great show, but I didn't think I wanted to see reruns; so I hopped a different bus and met the girls in Boaca, la ciudad de do pisos, the two-floored city.
Boaco was once a simple town on the mountainside. During the civil war, the guerilla fighting in the countryside forced the campesinos to flee to the relative safety of Boaco, and the city explanded rapidly and spilled into the valley below and up the side of the facing mountain. What remains today is a Dr Suess-esque, paradaisaical, idealistic, teetery-tottery-two-tiered town. Stepping into Boaco felt like stepping back in time 50 years into Latin-America's Mayberry.
From Boaco, Camoapa is a dusty, bumpy, bus-wheezing, hilly, low-gear-grinding 3 hour trek back. Half asleep on the way there, I deliriously rotated between two thoughts: (a) "Where the heck am I? I don't remember getting on this bus", and (b) "The last time I was here in service we watched as the bus simply quit, rendida, gasping and wheezing - please, please just make it up this hill!"
But, finally we made it back to good ol' cowtown Camoapa.
I never get tired of this uniform: pressed Jeans, shiny shoes or cowboy boots and sharp shirt - boys take note, anyone looks good in this.
Service in Camoapa:
Esteli
After this travelling it was really nice to get home to Esteli; although things here have been action packed as well. The C.O. visit is this week:
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| Pioneer Meeting for Esteli Central |
Our congregation made an interesting arrangement: A service group went to the cemetery, jam-packed as it was with friends and family of the dead and flower and food vendors for some approach work. At home I would be intimidated to try something like that, but here it just works so well!
The ministry here is definitely different from at home; you spend 2 hours or more in the sun in the territory, talking to someone at every door - so for a little break, this could be what you would do:
What can I say? They love their baseball.
Love from Nicaragua
Meag
Sound Cars and the Circus
Of elephants and rain....
So, does anyone know how advertising in Nicaragua works? Lets put it this way - Do you remember reading about colporteurs and sound cars and sandwich board campaigns? I always used to wonder how that worked; in my mind it seemed a little undignified. Of course, now we don't use those methods because it would not work in our society. I am learning however, that in some areas it really would be an effective way of advertising. For example, a caravan of circus cars with elephants, zebras, camels, miniature ponies, clowns and a sound car cruise the cramped streets of Esteli blaring "QUE BARATO! QUE BARATO!" (HOW CHEAP! HOW CHEAP!) and, coincidentally, blaring the same address that our district convention will be held at the same week.
I would give A LOT to ride on that elephant. I have been thinking up various scenarios in which I could convince Tarzan to let me up there.
I have taken a lesson from Bridget and most of my scenarios involve letting down my hair a lil' bit... (the best way to get out of a corrupt police ticket/confiscation of your vehicle is to let down your hair, lip-gloss it up, and pretend that you only know enough spanish to express how your gratitude/sympathy/respect/crush on them because they stand in the hot sun all day long)
Not to worry, we all know I couldn't pull that off with a straight face. Darn eh?
We are approaching the end of the rainy season in Nicaragua, but what we do get makes up for the dry days. The second it starts we run to gather the drying laundry. This morning I woke up to take my laundry off the line and put it in the washing machine where it would be drier. Within moments of the rain starting, soapy torrid rivers swell and swirl through the streets (and our patio), looking like class five rapids around taxis, bikes, dogs, twisted cobble stones and telephone poles.
Sometimes rain means you can stop and watch the world go by:
You can chill in your patio, or someone else's:
So, does anyone know how advertising in Nicaragua works? Lets put it this way - Do you remember reading about colporteurs and sound cars and sandwich board campaigns? I always used to wonder how that worked; in my mind it seemed a little undignified. Of course, now we don't use those methods because it would not work in our society. I am learning however, that in some areas it really would be an effective way of advertising. For example, a caravan of circus cars with elephants, zebras, camels, miniature ponies, clowns and a sound car cruise the cramped streets of Esteli blaring "QUE BARATO! QUE BARATO!" (HOW CHEAP! HOW CHEAP!) and, coincidentally, blaring the same address that our district convention will be held at the same week.
I have taken a lesson from Bridget and most of my scenarios involve letting down my hair a lil' bit... (the best way to get out of a corrupt police ticket/confiscation of your vehicle is to let down your hair, lip-gloss it up, and pretend that you only know enough spanish to express how your gratitude/sympathy/respect/crush on them because they stand in the hot sun all day long)
Not to worry, we all know I couldn't pull that off with a straight face. Darn eh?
We are approaching the end of the rainy season in Nicaragua, but what we do get makes up for the dry days. The second it starts we run to gather the drying laundry. This morning I woke up to take my laundry off the line and put it in the washing machine where it would be drier. Within moments of the rain starting, soapy torrid rivers swell and swirl through the streets (and our patio), looking like class five rapids around taxis, bikes, dogs, twisted cobble stones and telephone poles.
Sometimes rain means you can stop and watch the world go by:
You can chill in your patio, or someone else's:
And others keep going - because the Mariachi music must always be played:
Or because we must get to the meeting, umbrellas, tacones, lip gloss and all:
Its not hard to guess how I feel on these days: I love rain, I love umbrellas, I love high heels, and I love how the world pauses a moment in the downpour - its a remnant of a simpler life and a reminder of why I love it here!
Friday, October 22, 2010
Special Campaign
The time has finally come for our Spanish District Convention! We have started the invitation campaign but we are doing things a little different here...
But before we get to that - I am pretty sure that you cannot guess what animal I chased through downtown Esteli this afternoon.
Yup - an Elephant! Two, in fact. And, the truck in front was full of camels! Nicaragua never ceases to amaze me.
Esteli also has un monton of foreigners. Look at that beautiful crowd!
Back to our everyday and extraordinary routine - the ministry - our convention campaign started today! I am so excited. However, we cannot just leave them everywhere, we have very few invitations for the number of people in our territory. A city of 100, 000... 5 congregations (approximately 20, 000 per congregation?) and we have 3000 invitations. So we are being very judicious as to who actually receives a physical invitation. Our presentation is much longer here though, with scriptures and in many cases we basically read the whole invitation with them.
The country is so receptive - it might be because the countries ragged history is so fresh
Translation:
Partners: (Comrades, countrymen)
Mery and Filipe. Don't lose the value of the life you have been given, day after day as they build a new Nicaragua , building God's kingdom and his justice. We follow their example.
But before we get to that - I am pretty sure that you cannot guess what animal I chased through downtown Esteli this afternoon.
Yup - an Elephant! Two, in fact. And, the truck in front was full of camels! Nicaragua never ceases to amaze me.
Esteli also has un monton of foreigners. Look at that beautiful crowd!
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| The Esteli Crowd |
From top left: Phil, Lynette, B.J, Nahum, Jeanelle, Briana, Jordan, Jason
From bottom left: Kady, Bridget, Kyle, Me
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| Ajah and Maria Fernanda |
Translation:
Partners: (Comrades, countrymen)
Mery and Filipe. Don't lose the value of the life you have been given, day after day as they build a new Nicaragua , building God's kingdom and his justice. We follow their example.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
The Beginnings
I am still in love with this place. I walk down the streets, and I fall in love with Nicaragua; it doesn't matter if its blazing hot or a sudden downpour turns the streets into mini rivers of soap and dirt and litter.
The only thing I am not loving about Nicaragua is garbage day. Garbage comes early in the morning, so we put the bag out the night before. Dogs of all sizes are left loose in the streets at all times, so the garbage is never safe from them. To keep them from making a disgusting mess, we hang the garbage bags up high on the bars that protect our windows. Here is the problem: People come at unmentionable hours of the night, lift the bags down, tear them open, dig through them looking for bottles, spread them around and leave the rest for the dogs! And I sleep in la sala, right beside the front door! This means that during the night I wake up to drunk bums tearing through our trash five feet from my bed and have to scare them away from digging in our garbage. If anyone has any creative ideas to make it seem to them that digging in our garbage is a bad idea, you have my attention.
The other pieces of my Nicaraguan life are very happy. There is a service group Tuesday to Saturday at 8:30, and we spend about 2 hours in the territory. Not-at-homes are rare, and everyone wants to talk and accepts literature and shows promise for return calls. The service group on Sunday is a little later, but it a very good day to find men at home (not very high on my list of priorities for a good service day, but the brothers make good use of this time). Aside from that, my time is filled with studies and return visits. I study with a young girl named Francela. The first time I studied with this 8 year old, she asked me questions like "Is Mary in heaven? Or will she be resurrected to earth? If she is going to heaven, how do we know she is there already, not sleeping, still waiting to be resurrected to heaven?" Soon followed by "Do you go to church?" "Yes, we have a meeting tonight" "Good, can I come?" Seeing people who love spiritual things really re-motivates me to do all I can to help them learn the truth. She let me take some pictures of her after our last study.
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| Francela and her lamb |
When we first arrived in Esteli, the whole area was undergoing some major flooding problems. This is the highway on our way up.
Very soon after that the days got hotter and windy and dusty. Our service group meets in this neighborhood several days out of the week. While we waited for the brothers to organize the morning as they saw fit, this tree provided welcome shade from the 8 am sun.
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| Jason and Asahel |
La Casita is a relaxing place south of town with a funky vibe... Organic and friendly, with a bit of an oddly-placed Indian flavor - its probably the only place in Nicaragua to buy hand mixed Garam Masala or buy potted herbs. I got a kick out of the sign shown below. It reads:
Young people in love:
This park was created healthy family recreation
- and especially for little ones. We expect
your conduct to be worthy of the trust you have been given.
What a world we live in!
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| No funny business in the gardens of La Casita |
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| Double bloom Hibiscus |
I was loving this bridge. The bend in the walkway is where is becomes painfully obvious that it is not a bridge, rather two semi-connected docks that can move independent of each other. Rickety and sloshy, and only very small people could walk across without it dipping down to submerge your feet in the river.
La Casita was, in short, a very ecologically conscious garden/park area with a playground and restaurant and all the plants you could imagine. I would however recommend avoiding "Managua Mondays" when the young of the capital descend on the little finca-style establishment resplendent in too tight bright falsie tops (shirts and vests and lace-up-corset over t-shirt style clothes), dip dyed skinny jeans, gladiator sandals that would have made Goliath proud, bright jewel patent platforms and glittering, costume-jewelery-bling covered stillettos.
Entonces, until the next time, I remain your friend in Nicaragua and your friend in love with Nicaragua. Take care all!
~ Mina
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Ticuantepe
Living here at this time is an incredible privilege! I have been typing and erasing this post over and over again, just trying do the feelings and facts of the past weekend justice - The sucursal (branch) closes the end of this month. The branch has been in operation for 20 years and in it's lifetime, the number of publishers in Nicaragua has tripled.
The English convention is a truly spiritual paradise. Brother Ian Hunter put it very aptly in the concluding talk, where he said that because the majority of us have come from lands far away, have left houses and mothers and brothers and sisters and friends, and all for the ministry, we share a very special bond. It doesn't matter if you know no one when you arrive, because when you leave, you leave with the love and cariño (deep affection) of more than 600 very special people.
I think you know it is a really special group and a really special time when although the sessions are done, its getting late and buses are leaving, groups in the audience have pulled out their songbooks and are singing kingdom songs together, just to hold onto that perfect spiritual paradise for a few more moments.
With this incredible atmosphere, I didn't take very many photos - but here are some of the friends that did wind up on film.
The English convention is a truly spiritual paradise. Brother Ian Hunter put it very aptly in the concluding talk, where he said that because the majority of us have come from lands far away, have left houses and mothers and brothers and sisters and friends, and all for the ministry, we share a very special bond. It doesn't matter if you know no one when you arrive, because when you leave, you leave with the love and cariño (deep affection) of more than 600 very special people.
I think you know it is a really special group and a really special time when although the sessions are done, its getting late and buses are leaving, groups in the audience have pulled out their songbooks and are singing kingdom songs together, just to hold onto that perfect spiritual paradise for a few more moments.
With this incredible atmosphere, I didn't take very many photos - but here are some of the friends that did wind up on film.
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| Jessica, Emily and I |
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| Emily, Bianca and Jessica |
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| Kids working hard |
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| Lovelies |
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| Beautiful Chloe |
Thursday, September 23, 2010
San Juan del Sur
Playa Coco is a beautiful beach on the southernmost Pacific corner of Nicaragua. It seems to me that the season of Survivor that is premiering right now (not that I watch survivor very often, but this is Survivor Nicaragua, so I thought I would give it a shot) was filmed very near to where we were, as well as the season that is being filmed right now I know for certain is being filmed very close to San Juan del Sur and Playa Coco.
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| Playa Yankee |
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| Beautiful Adina |
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| rawr |
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Bethel
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