Generosity

This portrait of Ruben Dario is painted on the wall of a basketball court near the central park. There are others around town, but this is my favorite. It says a lot about a country that your national hero is a poet.

 

I spent a morning last week coat tailing a psychologist at the health center. His name is Osmin Jiron and I feel like I am learning a lot from him. I sat in on an intake for a new patient and it turned out the man was from Honduras. Afterwards I said to Osmin, “So you can provide services to people from Honduras?” He said, “Certainly. We serve anyone who comes in. This doesn’t happen in other countries, but here in Nicaragua we do.” I said, “That is very generous.” He said, “Como no?” Which in this case I think would best be translated as “Why wouldn’t we? Generosity is part of the Nicaraguan character.” I had heard this assertion before and have certainly experienced a lot of generosity in my time here, but this peaked my interest because it was on the level of a national policy and in such contrast to much of the discussion in the US about the government providing for the common welfare.

I’ve started discussing this idea with friends and acquaintances, I haven’t asked taxi drivers yet, but I probably will. I tell the story about the guy from Honduras getting taken care of at the health center and ask them if they agree that generosity is part of the Nicaraguan character and if so why that is.

Here are some of the answers I’ve gotten, but let me throw in the caveat that the conversations took place in Spanish and I don’t always get it all. Sometimes I think I understand stuff, but I figure out later that I misunderstood.

Pablo - community health worker – After the triumph of the revolution many people came to Nicaragua to help us. Especially the Cubans but also many people from Germany and France and other countries. They stayed in our homes. They helped us, but we took care of them, too. Maybe it started then. Everything had been destroyed and we had to help each other to rebuild. I don’t think it was true in the time of Somoza, but it is true now that generosity is part of the Nicaraguan character.

Carolina - our next-door neighbor, the niece of our landlord – It is the way we are raised. It is the example of our grandparents. If you see someone in the street that needs help, you help them. If someone comes to your door and says, give me food or give me a little water, you do it. Maybe it is only gallo pinto (rice and beans) but if you can, you help. We open our home to people and they are our family. There was a Philippine who lived here. If he was sick it was the same as someone in the family being sick. This is what we’ve been taught by our grandparents and it is our culture to teach it to our children.

Viales Family – our landlords – Juan Carlos – It’s the government. Health care is free to everyone. Basic education is free. Yes, people can cross the border to get treatment when they can’t afford to pay in Honduras or Costa Rica. There are some people in the government who are bad, out for themselves, but really the government tries to help everyone. It wasn’t like that under Somoza.

Socorro (mother-in-law) – Its what the church teaches us.

Hamilton (son-in-law) – Look, in Nicaragua we are all the same class. We are poor. Poor people always help each other. If you have a poor person and a rich person, the rich person won’t help because they don’t care. But poor people will always share what they have.

Isreal – shopkeeper who many years ago emigrated from Jordan – Don’t think about things like that. You’ll give yourself a headache. You’ll disturb your sleep. Everyone is the same all over the world; equally generous, equally greedy. Just relax. Be tranquil. Enjoy food. Enjoy your wife. Enjoy the passing of the day.

Yolanda – librarian – In general it is an important part of our character. It is the way we are, especially with foreigners/strangers. There is a song that says we treat foreigners better than we treat our brothers. I’ll look for that song for you. It started as part of our character, but now it is our law, too. I can’t explain it. It is inexplicable.

A Cultural Experience

John and I are sitting in our cozy Peace Corps apartment unable to hear each other speak.  The music outside is blasting and there are people walking up and down the street.  It is 85 degrees and the dancing goes on.  The occasion: the granddaughter of our neighbor has turned 15 and the party is her traditional quinceñero.  It started with a mass at the church a block and a half away at the end of our street.  She walked in dressed in a floor length pink gown (like Cinderella) followed by an entourage of girls ranging from 5-15 dressed in white dresses adorned in pink.  The older girls were sporting 3-inch platform heels and were doing their best to look comfortable in them.  They were slipped off during the service and disappeared quickly when the fun began.

Procession after the mass

After the mass, Alison’s father walked her out followed by the attendants and preceded to walk several blocks down the middle of the street to the house for the reception and we all followed in procession.  The back yard was set up with plastic tables covered with pink and white tablecloths and we were served some snacks, some soft drinks, and a meal of chicken, rice and white bread.  There was an enormous cake with several columns and several layers and staircases, which collapsed soon after we arrived.  A team of grandmother types came to the rescue and by some miracle restored the cake to some reasonable semblance of its original design. 

Cake before the disaster (the woman in pink is swatting flies away)

Reconstructed cake

After dinner the sweating father and his beautiful daughter danced together and it was clear they had practiced because they looked great!  That was the beginning of the dancing with music blasting out of speakers bigger than me.  I was feeling really hot and in need of our fan.  We went home without eating any cake but still feel like we are part of the celebration as the music blasts through the neighborhood.  It is about 8:30 and I bet we have several more house of this music before quiet reigns again. 

Father daughter dance (look how much he is sweating)

I love this tradition!  A Dominican friend of our invited us to the quinceñero celebrations for both of her nieces in the states and I loved those events too.  It is such a great coming of age recognition.  Our neighbors here are not wealthy and they clearly worked very hard to prepare all the food, serve it and welcome at least 100 friends and relatives to honor their daughter.  Alison was gracious and lovely to all the guests and clearly having fun with her friends. 

Family is so important here.  Tomorrow we are invited to another birthday celebration for a 4-year old nephew of our landlady.  Once again there will be lots of people and a piñata.  Next Tuesday is Nicaragua’s Fathers Day.  We will join in the celebration for our 85-year old neighbor, who is a Yankees fan. His 5 living children, as well as all his grandchildren and great grandchildren will honor him.  I feel so lucky to be experiencing all of this!

A Little Setback

After one week in our new home settling in and meeting people, I now find myself in Managua with my foot in a bandage!  Yesterday morning John and I participated in a 5 K walk/run to raise funds for a local NGO, which does a lot of work supporting children (through education) and health (supports the maternity home I have been visiting) and community building.  It is all very compatible with the Peace Corps goals and we anticipate doing work with them.  The walk took place early in the morning (assembling at 6) when the weather was still temperate and we were home by 8:30 to shower, have breakfast and head over to the neighboring town of El Viejo to meet one of our counterparts and his family for lunch.  We were walking down the street on our way to the bus stop when I caught my foot on something and took a tumble.  Luckily I did not hit my head, damage any internal organs, or break a hip.  I did get scraped in several places, bruised my left knee and hurt my right baby toe – it appeared to be enjoying a new angle and it was bleeding.  I felt very shook up and very dizzy.  We sat on the sidewalk for a while and I drank some water.  When I felt okay, I tried to stand up but pretty quickly collapsed to the ground (John was with me and guided me down so I was not hurt). 

Eventually we took a cab back home and called the Peace Corps Medical Officer on duty.  She instructed us to come to Managua to get the foot x-rayed. As soon as I felt stable enough, we took a cab to the bus station and the two hour bus ride to Managua where we met the Peace Corps doctor in the big private hospital of Managua.  The final upshot of the fall is a broken baby toe on my right foot with a superficial laceration under the toe.  The ER doctor stuck the laceration together with Dermabond (great skin glue) and bandaged me up to immobilize my foot.  The plan is for me to see an orthopedist today and get his review of the x-rays and plan of care before heading back to Chinandega. 

In the meantime, the Peace Corps is putting us up in a lovely hotel near the Peace Corps office and there are several other volunteers here in town for various reasons (meetings, medical issues, a group took the Foreign Service Exam over the weekend, etc.) so there is no lack of company.  I am moving very slowly.  My right foot hurts because of the toe and my left leg is tender because of the bruised knee.  However, it is not all bad: I am presently sitting out by the pool with the palm tree blowing in the wind with a pigeon and crow keeping me company.  John has gone over to the Peace Corps office to find out what the plan is.  Last night we ordered a pizza from Pizza Hut and wolfed it down with a couple of Heinekens.  That doesn’t sound very Peace Corps does it?

Here are some of my thoughts about this experience:

•  I am getting old and falls need to be taken seriously.  I am really lucky that a broken toe is the extent of my damage.  It could have been a lot worse.
• One of the reasons for the fall was that we were walking fast and not paying attention to the sidewalk.  We were walking like gringos and it is time for me to change my pace and start walking slowly like Nicaraguans.
• John is a great support and a surprisingly good nurse.  He washed my wounds, iced my aches, held me, propped me, and catered to my every need (anticipating several) with a worried and loving look on his face. Thank you John. xxoo
•  Peace Corps has been very responsive and helpful.  I have felt well attended to and supported from the moment I called in.
•  I am going to have to readjust my schedule of getting settled in and established in Chinandega.  This makes me feel a little sad but maybe it means I will sit around getting to know my neighbors better and put the health project on hold for a while.
•  This fall could have been the end of my Peace Corps service.  John and I often joke that anything could happen that would require us to leave the Peace Corps.  We are well aware of this reality and I do feel grateful that this is just a setback and not an end to our goal of being here for two years.