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:

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:

Pioneer Meeting for Esteli Central

 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