What’s been going on (brace yourselves; it’s a long ride ahead)

So it’s been almost a week since I’ve been in Boaco and not too much has been going on around here. I did get the money thing resolved with my host mom, although I’m still paying more than the other PCVs. After the 6 weeks, I’m going to make my own food though.


After leaving Managua on Tuesday, I found out that one of my best friends here, Jess, decided that she wanted to leave Nicaragua. I was heartbroken to hear that, but I know that she’s gone through a lot being sick and not feeling the same after having Dengue. Fortunately though, Peace Corps does a good job supporting their volunteers, especially in these situations, and the medical team decided that it would be best to have Kellie and me go back to Managua on Thanksgiving so we could all be together for emotional support.

I left Thursday morning and got on the bus in Boaco to see Steve, my site mate (small business) getting on the bus too. I waved him over and he said I was lucky because he was getting off at the empalme (20 minutes down the road) and then getting a ride with an ex-volunteer in his car into Managua. So we caught up with Scott, who was a TEFL PCV on the island of Ometepe, where my friend Andrew is now. Scott works for an NGO now in Boaco and he drove us in to Managua, which was nice.

I made it over to the hotel and met up with Kellie and Jess. It was good being together for the day and being able to say goodbye in person instead of over the phone, but it was still sad. I’m really going to miss my friend and I’m bummed that we can’t continue to share stories about our interesting lives in Nicaragua. She can always make me laugh. I know that it’s best for her to go back to the U.S. and take of herself though. I hope we can meet up again later in life :)

Because I was leaving Managua on Friday to return to Boaco, this coincided with my host brother going home to Boaco (he studies in Managua during the week). This was nice because I then had someone to ride the bus with. Taking a taxi over to the bus terminal to meet him was absolutely crazy though. Kellie and I waited for the taxi to arrive at the PC office, which it came a little late… The plan was for him to drop her off at one bus terminal and then me after at another terminal, since our buses go in different directions. Well, there was an accident or something that held up traffic for awhile. I was supposed to meet my host bro at the terminal to catch a 3:30pm bus but I had to call to let him know I wouldn’t make that one, but we could take the 4pm. After we dropped off Kellie, we headed out and were stopped again in traffic—this time there was a minor accident with a bus and a car. The front bumper/light of the car was a little crunched, but both vehicles were taking up the whole road and not being moved—there weren’t any people in them either. So, my taxi driver did what only seemed natural in this situation; he drove up the curb, drove down the sidewalk a little to pass the bus, and then entered back onto the road. We weren’t in a jeep or anything, just a little beat up car. I love how this was totally acceptable to do; well there weren’t any police around…

We finally got to the bus terminal right at 4pm, and with this culture usually being late or on “Nica time”, the buses are unusually timely to leave the station. The 4pm bus was just pulling away as I entered the terminal and it was crammed pack with people so I wasn’t going to attempt to run after it. I found my host brother and I apologized because he had to wait so long, but he’s pretty chill and wasn’t upset. So, we had a half an hour to hang out before the next bus so we chatted.

The 4:30pm bus pulled up and we got on quickly in order to get a seat as it filled up. As we pulled away from the terminal and drove out of Managua, the bus made some weird noises which worried me as we began our 2 hour trek out into the campo. Many buses make weird noises here though, so I was optimistic. Our ride was okay, but we drove pretty slow at times. It wasn’t until it was dark and we were still quite a ways from Boaco that our bus started grumbling and jerking. Hmmm…I definitely felt comforted with my host bro sitting next to me instead of some random Nicas, but I was still worried whether or not we would have to sleep overnight in the bus if it broke down. I wasn’t the only worried one as other gasped around me when the driver attempted to change gears and the bus did not agree. The country hills are very hard on these buses. Eventually, we made it in to Boaco, just 2 ½ hours later. I was just thankful to be on stable ground and off of that bus. I’ve had so many crazy bus experiences here that I could probably write a book about them. Anyway, we made it home and ate dinner with Hazzel and my host mom (Carmen).

Saturday, was a very Catholic filled day. My host brother told me that he was going to speak at the mass so I said I would go with him and take pictures. It was a day to celebrate the Virgin Mary—I’m not exactly sure what exactly it all was about, like why this day and what specifically they were celebrating, but it was about Mary. Yasser and I went to the church but we were a little late getting there so he said that he probably wouldn’t be speaking. The church was overflowing with people so we weeded our way through the sea of people to go up near the front. I got all kinds of stares. Then, if we hadn’t brought enough attention to ourselves pushing our way to the front during mass, Yasser wanted to go across to the other side in the very front of the church. I asked him if he was serious because it seemed like this wouldn’t be respectful, and I knew that in the Catholic church, when people cross the middle or go into the middle of the church, they make the cross motion (Ok, I’m not Catholic so I don’t know the terminology) and sort of half kneel. Well, I’m not Catholic so I was also worried that if I crossed the church in front of all these people and didn’t do the kneel cross motion I would disrespect a lot of people. I had to put all those worries aside because we crossed anyway. I then stood awkwardly while Yasser talked to the other youth group members.

Yasser decided that he was going to speak and discussed his lines with the group members, but then realized he had forgotten his camera battery. I had mine, but he was determined to go home and get his. So, again we pushed our way through the mass, but this time we were going to the back of the church so I could see everyone’s faces as I was asking them to move aside so I could exit the church. What a day filled with pena (embarrassment). I hung out with Hazzel in the church for awhile and then she sensed my boredom and we went to the park to get ice cream. It was a really hot day too, so being pressed up against people in a overcrowded church was not pleasant. The ice cream was refreshing and Yasser met up with us afterward. Needless to say, he did not speak at church. After mass finished, they had a procession which resembled a parade with mini floats representing all of the different barrios and their designs to celebrate Mary. Each “float” they carried had a figure of Mary (of varying sizes) with flowers and other adornments. It was interesting. We stood on a street corner to view the entire procession. Something that’s even more interesting (in some people’s opinion) about these processions is that you don’t just watch it go by once and go home, you then race to another corner to watch the very same procession, walk with the procession for awhile, cut down some other streets and watch it again from another corner. At one corner a taxi tried to drive through a small break in the procession which upset a lot of people. One lady shouted “Que vulgaridad”. Although I kind of chuckled at the reaction and her statement, it was pretty disrespectful, but taxis try to get through everything any way they can (just like my curb driver).

We headed home after the procession returned back to the church and I was sure my face and scalp were sunburned. After eating lunch and hanging out for a bit, Yasser said we were invited to a house for more celebrations, so I went with him and Hazzel. The house was filled with plastic chairs, a band was outside, and there was a grand altar with a figure of the Virgin Mary with flashing blue Christmas lights, candles, and burning incense. This was interesting. We sat down and I asked Hazzel what we were going to do, and she said “pray”. So, a lady began and then they passed around the rosary praying the specific prayers bead by bead and then singing songs in between. At the end, they brought out food to everyone and little baskets for us to carry our food home. I’ve never experience anything like this so it was a good cultural experience to say the least. After going home, Yasser informed me that they had a youth group get together, so we went over to what I guess was a convent. We chatted with others for awhile and then a nun came out and asked the students to share about the group, etc. She then put some pendants of Mary on an altar and asked the group to go up one by one to get a pendant to wear. I didn’t go up there, but she approached me after and said I could get one, but I explained, respectfully, that I wasn’t Catholic. A girl in the youth group asked me what religion I was—Nicas are very direct with this question! I told her I am a Christian. The next question Nicas ask after that is “You’re Evangelical?” Evangelical is very different here and I feel like the Catholics and Evangelicals don’t quite get along. I tried to explain that I don’t belong to a certain denomination, but I believe in God and the trinity. She then asked “But you don’t believe in the Virgin Mary?” I felt so uncomfortable because I was amidst this group of Catholics on the day they were having a large celebration of the Virgin Mary and staring at a figure of her and had to explain that I don’t celebrate her sanctity. It was very complicated, but I don’t think she was offended. I’m just surprised at how direct Nicas are regarding religion. The rest of the night was fine, but I kept thinking about how quite a few PCVs have been bothered by their host families or community members trying to force religion on them or trying to scare them into believing something. It’s frustrating how some people can be a little too extreme and push people away from faith with their “good intentions”.

Following this, my host mom asked me the next day if I was going to become Catholic. I told her no and Yasser started laughing. I’m assuming my response wasn’t rude then. It was quite a Catholic weekend.

Highlight: yesterday I got a package from my grandparents filled with great supplies for my classroom and peanut M&M’s :) I forgot to take a picture of the stash and then I didn’t want to put it all back in box after I had organized it all and put it away. Anyway, shout out to Grandpa Al and Grandma Milly for sending me treasures! Thanks! Love you :)