As many of you know, one of my grandsons, Simon Devol, made me a small book, about 4" X 6” , last Christmas. I started using it as my sketchbook and over a period of about 6 months filled it with 32 observational drawings of things I see here in Nicaragua. This book forms one narrative, a kind of visual journal, of my life in Nicaragua.
I have sent the book back to Simon, in hopes he'll make me another one! However, I've continued to work with the drawings. From the thirty-two originals, I picked ten, not necessarily the best ones, but the ones I wanted to do more with. Then I modified them on my iPad using the app Sketchbook Pro. These digital images are more polished, smoother, better drawn, but I’m not sure they are any better than the sketches. I have been getting them printed out, pretty large about 18" X 24", on vinyl with grommets in the corners like banners.
I have sent the book back to Simon, in hopes he'll make me another one! However, I've continued to work with the drawings. From the thirty-two originals, I picked ten, not necessarily the best ones, but the ones I wanted to do more with. Then I modified them on my iPad using the app Sketchbook Pro. These digital images are more polished, smoother, better drawn, but I’m not sure they are any better than the sketches. I have been getting them printed out, pretty large about 18" X 24", on vinyl with grommets in the corners like banners.
I am planning to exhibit them. If all goes well they will be on display in my favourite coffee shop, Kfe Los Balcones, next month. https://www.facebook.com/KfeLosBalcones/
So here are the images and some stories about them in no particular order.
Simon’s Book #6, Los Gallos
I’ve been drawing roosters for a long time. I can’t remember how it got started, but they keep reoccurring in drawings, paintings, and prints. My biggest single sale of artwork, $1,000, was for a set of four roosters painted on paper mache hemispheres. My most popular piece is a print based on spray paint and stencil rooster designs. There must be fifty of them out there.
This is not a generic rooster. It is a double portrait of a specific one: the handsome guy who lived in the courtyard of the family I stayed with during training in El Rosario. He was extremely loud and aggressive. When we had Spanish classes at my house, the other volunteers who were training in the same town hated him. A young woman I’m very fond of, Rosalyn Zock, threatened to do him harm on a regular basis. On the other hand, I was quite taken him. I forgave him waking me up at all hours, because I found his strutting around, bragging, and gallinaceous trash talking comic and charming. He didn’t come to a good end. Poultry seldom does. The man next door got a much bigger rooster. While not nearly as good looking, the new one was double my guy’s size. All they wanted to do was fight. I think the owners just got tired of all the effort it took to keep them from bloodying each other. The handsome one disappeared. It could be he became lunch one day. I don’t want to think too much about that.
Simon’s Book #3, Los Béisboles
I love that Nicaragua and the US share a passion for béisbol! It is great irony, in my opinion, that the two countries in the region that have been the most defiant of US imperialism, Cuba and Nicaragua, are just as fanatical about the game as we are. I visited Cuba in 2000 and 2002. I took a bunch of baseballs with me to give as gifts to people I met. They were much appreciated and I wanted to do the same in Nicaragua. Soon after I got here, I started soliciting balls and other equipment from people back home. Thanks to the generosity of my friends, I've given out over 100 baseballs to kids in Chinandega. A few duffle bags of mixed equipment has been hauled down by visitors, but most of the baseballs have arrived by US post. This is not a cheap proposition. It costs about $50 to mail a dozen baseballs. I haven’t priced them, but I could probably buy baseballs here for less. However, that would leave out the interpersonal aspect. Whenever I give away a baseball, I say, this is from a friend of mine in The United States.
Three of my grandsons are pretty serious baseball players and through them I’ve become a bigger fan than I ever was previously. I’ve spent many hours watching little league games, going to see The Pawtucket Red Sox play at McCoy stadium, and also attending major league games at Fenway Park. Deb and I had a great road trip with our grandson Sammy to Cooperstown. The game itself is great, but what really matters is the way people connect through the game. At least two of my grandsons are going to visit Nicaragua. I hope to get them to some games and also set them up to play with Nicaraguans while they are here.
After my trip to Cuba in 2000, I did a drawing of a baseball that was exhibited in a gallery in Boston. A couple bought it for their son’s bedroom. They were art collectors and they thought it would get the boy off on the right foot.
Simon’s Book #7, La Virgin de Guadalupe
My interest in images of The Virgin of Guadalupe also pre-dates living in Nicaragua. However, she is ubiquitous here as she is everywhere in Latin America. Really, she is the most revered religious symbol in the western hemisphere, the Catholic impress from Tierra Del Fuego to Quebec . The Virgin of Guadalupe is a depiction of Mary, mother of Jesus, as she appeared to a Mexican peasant, Juan Diego, now a saint, too, in 1513. She insisted to the campesino that she had to have a church built on the site of their meeting. She was quite insistent, appearing to him on five different occasions. Juan Diego took the request to the Bishop who turned him down, but The Virgin kept sending him back, finally supplying him with miracles to prove the validity of the proposition. As an artist, this is the miracle that resonates the most with me: The Virgin made a particular type of rose bloom out of season. With her own hands, she arranged the flowers so they lined Juan Diego’s cloak. She told him to go before the bishop and open his cloak. He did as he was told and the flowers fell to the floor at the Bishops feet. Additionally, they left the inside of the cloak imprinted with a stunning portrait of The Virgin.
Now it so happens that at the very site where The Virgin appeared to Juan Diego, the Aztec goddess Tonantzin had been worshipped for decades. In the Aztec language of Nahautl, Tonantzin means “Our Mother”. The history of Catholicism in the new world is one of layering new doctrine over older beliefs, creating a patina. What came before may be obscured, but it still glows through.
The Virgin of Guadalupe is closely associated with revolution. She is a poor peoples’ virgin and has been carried into battle as a symbol of resistance to oligarchy, most notably in the world’s first great popular rebellion of the twentieth century, the Mexican Revolution (1910-20).
One of these days I’m going to do a series of paintings of Elvis, Jesus, and The Virgin of Guadalupe on black velvet. Maybe I’ll throw in Che Guevara, Liz Taylor and James Dean, too. I’m going to find an abandoned drive in movie and hold the exhibition there. On opening night, I’ll show a double feature of King Creole and Jail House Rock. If Liz and Jimmy Dean make the cut, subsequent nights will include Suddenly Last Summer and Butterfield 8, East of Eden and Rebel Without a Cause and of course Giant! Popcorn and cotton candy will be served. Yeah! thats my idea of art.
Simon’s Book #4, Los Viejos and Simon’s Book #9, Los Macho Ratones
These two drawing are based on masks made by Marlon Jose Vega Flores. Deb’s training town was Diriamba. Her language instructor took her training group on a cultural excursion to Marlon’s workshop and home. She couldn’t wait to get me there because she knew how much I would love it. Marlon is a folklorist, musician, dancer, and craftsman. Several generation live and work in the small house not far from the cemetery in Diriamba. For my money, he is one of the best artists, in any form, I know. The family workshop turns out masks, figurines - from doll size to life size -, jewellery and other objects based on El Güegüence or Macho Ratón of Diriamba. This is a satirical street theater performance, including elaborate costumes, masks, dance and music presented annually during the festival of San Sebastián in mid January. The play dates from the 16th century, making it one of the oldest literary works of the Western Hemisphere. In 2005, UNESCO proclaimed it a "Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity”. The general theme is the sly and humorous resistance of the indigenous population to colonial rule.
Deb and I have three of Marlon’s masks hanging on our wall here in Chinandega. They are much appreciated by our neighbors. Last week a girl borrowed one to take to school for show and tell. It made me nervous, but she returned it without a problem.
Check out Marlon on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/marlonjose.vegaflores?fref=ts . If you would be interested in buying his artwork, I’d be glad to act a a go-between.
Sometime before I leave Nicaragua, I’m planning to do an apprenticeship at Marlon’s workshop. I want to learn to carve and paint the masks.
Simon’s Book #21, Café
Every morning, either Deb or I, get out of bed and boil water on the hotplate to make a pot of coffee. We own a fachenta (fancy, snooty) French press. We take our coffee out on the patio and drink it while we have our morning game of cribbage. It is a rare morning that we don’t follow this routine. If it is raining we have our coffee and game inside. The cups we drink out of were the models for this drawing. This routine is nothing new. We also follow it in the US, although back home, because there are more demands on our time, we don’t pull it off with the same regularity. Deb and I have been together right around twenty-five years. We have built up layer upon layer of shared experiences; family and friends, travel, adventures, joyful times, heartbreaking times, wonderful things we remember and a whole bunch of things we’ve forgotten. To claim that these cups are a portrait of our relationship would be to ask them to carry more weight than they are capable of. However, they’d make a good thumbnail to click to open the bigger picture.
One of the central features of my Peace Corps service is that I’m doing it with Deb as my partner. As in the States, we go our separate ways much of the time, but she is there to come home to. I get to tell her my stories and I get to hear hers. Thanks, honey.
There is a whole other story associated with this drawing, too. My favourite coffee shop in Chinandega is Kfe Los Balcones. I am friends with the owner, Elisa Gurdian Tijerino. She is a very generous and supportive woman who has taken an interest in my artwork on Facebook, especially Simon’s Book. We are planning to exhibit the drawings in the coffee shop. So, I’m pretty loyal to Kfe. However, there is another, newer coffee shop in town called La Esquina (The Corner). It also, like Kfe, is air conditioned and has wifi. When it first opened I tried it and posted on the Peace Corps Nicaragua website to let other volunteers know about it. I was kind of bragging because that made four air conditioned coffee shops with wifi in Chinandega! However, I felt disloyal to Kfe and a little worried that Elisa would see what I had written. So, I did another Facebook post with this drawing and a testimonial to the glories of the lattes at Kfe. Elisa loved it and had a poster made that is hanging in the business.
As I reread the above paragraph, I wondered if Facebook makes everyone feel like they are in Junior High School or is it just me. To tell the truth, I still frequent La Esquina. If I’m in that part of town and I’m hungry it is hard to pass up their hot dog called El Chapo. Yes! A hot dog named for a notorious narcotraficante! It features lots of jalapeños, chipotle sauce, and chopped onions. It leaves me with a glowing mouth and a clear conscience.
Simon’s Book #29, Toña
I drink Toña. Deb drinks Victoria Clásica. They are both made by the same brewery, Compañía Cervecera de Nicaragua (CCN). There ain’t much difference between the two, but you can pretty much divide Nicaragua into Toña drinkers and Victoria Clásica drinkers. People have strong preferences. My favorite beer joke definitely applies: drinking Toña (or insert other brand) is like making love in a canoe; fucking close to water. The real appeal is that it is cold. Beer is served just above slushy temperature. There are some places that serve it in frosted mugs so there is actually ice floating in the beer. If we are drinking at home, we open the first one, but keep the second and third in the freezer.
I’d say on an average of once a week we stop by our favorite bar, El Refugio (The Refuge) and drink a couple of cold ones. We like this bar because although the music is loud, it is not too loud to have a conversation. Also, the clientele includes women, not necessarily the case in other bars around town. The way they keep the tab at El Refugio is by letting the empties accumulate on the table. If it gets to be more than twenty four, they’ll bring you a case and put it on the floor by your table. On more than one occasion I have seen two guys drinking alone with a full case of empties. For parties of three or more it is a given. I aspire to having a case, but the way I drink it is not going to happen. Three beers is a big night for me.
From time to time Deb and I will have a conversation that goes something like this:
“I think we drank beer every day this week.”
“Yeah. It might have been every day last week, too.”
“My pants are getting tight.”
“I think its time for a break.”
“OK. I’m on board.”
Then well go on the wagon for a week or two, but when its in the 90s the siren song of Toña is hard to resist for vey long.
There is Toña, but then there is Flor de Caña. That is a whole other story.
Simon’s Book #23 and #24, Semana Santa
These are copies of images that were painted on the streets of Chinandega last Easter, Semana Santa.
I am fascinated by the impulse to make visual art. It seems clear that it is universal. There are artists everywhere creating paintings, drawings, photographs, sculpture, crafts, and graffiti that, on some level they are compelled to make. One source driving this compulsion, that is particularly evident in Nicaragua, is religion. Nicaraguan have a deep love of God and always express their gratitude for his divine presence in their lives. It is built into the language. In almost every context, the word “gracias” is followed by “a Dios.” “How are you today?” “Bueno. Gracias a Dios.” Also, in making almost any plan for the future, it is acknowledged that our lives are in God’s hands. “Hasta luego.” “OK, si Dios quiere.” (“See you later.” “OK. God willing.”) These phrases exist in English and are used in similar ways, but in Nicaragua it is a much more profound part of people’s psyche. And there is an impulse to make this internal love of God visible in the world. The resulting artwork takes many forms, none more accessible than the paintings that decorate the streets for Easter week. Using lime mixed with water for paint, most households join in patterning their block with imagery related to the last supper, the crucifixion and the resurrection. The quality and creativity of the work is quite varied. Much of the artwork is simple, basic versions of standard themes; flowers, crosses, ladders, hearts, and chalices. However, every block or two you’ll come across a piece were the artist’s individual vision emerges or where extraordinary skill has been applied. Walking around my neighbourhood during Semaña Santa is as good as going to any art gallery.
I’m not a particularly religious guy, but I identify with having something powerful inside you; a thought, a feeling, a vision, that you want to put out in the world and the necessary way to do it is with art.
Simon’s Book #13, León de León
León is a neighboring city to Chinandega. It is a city of great culture and learning. This is a drawing of the lions in front of the cathedral. It was a drawing that it was hard to get right. The lion kept coming out too Disneyish or too Wizard of Ozzy.
During training, one of the questions that preoccupies volunteers is where they will be placed. Since I’m prone to a fault to think about what is going to happen in the future, I spent a lot of time fantasizing about where I was going to live for two years. I’d visit someplace new and immediately want that to be my site: “Rivas! Wow! Rivas is so great! I want to live there.” “Matagalpa! The climate! The coffee! I hope I get placed there!” “San Carlos…” Etc. One of my favourite fantasies was to live in León. I didn't actually visit there until later, but I knew its reputation as a town with universities, museums, great restaurants, gorgeous churches, important murals and a large international presence. It is also a pivotal location in the history of Nicaragua, including the revolution. While all this turns out to be true, for me León is a great town to visit, but I’m glad I’m living in Chinandega and I’m glad León is a short bus ride away.
Simon’s Book #27, El Abanico/La Vida de Chinandega
This drawing resonates with me on a personal level in a manner I’m hard put to articulate. I think it is the best single representation of my life in Chinandega. While I was working on it and especially when I saw it printed out for the first time, I felt filled with gratitude and appreciation. I think this drawing contains a kind of anticipatory sadness I have about eventually leaving Chinandega and Nicaragua. In my imagination, I take “El Abanico” back to Peace Dale, Rhode Island and hang it out on the back deck. I look at it while I’m drinking my morning coffee and think, “Damn, that was a fine two year! I’m so glad I did that.”
“El Abanico” is more or less a depiction of our living room. It shows one of the the two Macho Ratón masks that hang on the wall. I drew the smaller of our two fans, because I like its color and shape better. The big one that we have on 24/7 is more utilitarian, but less attractive. I included Toña, my favorite beer. More on Toña elsewhere in this post. There is no reality to the pattern on the floor. All of our floors are tile. For years I have been making patterns like this using spray paint and lace as a stencil. I happened to have a photo on my iPad and when I collaged it in I liked the way it looked.
The heat in Chinandega is omnipresent! On the one hand it is just background, but in another way it is the essence of the life here. I recently posted this on Facebook:
“Can I complain just a little? It is 93 today (feels like 117). This is not particularly unusual, but recently it has been wiping me out. I drink my rehydration salts, take three showers a day, and seek out an hour or so of air conditioning whenever I can. Usually this does it, but, for whatever reason, this week I feel put upon by the heat. Well at least tomorrow it is only going to feel like 111.”
Zach Moore, who proceeded Deb and I as a volunteer in Chinandega by a year and a half and was pivotal in helping us fit in here when we arrived, responded, “Solo recuerda que el calor es de la pasión y la riqueza de la vida en Chinandega! La vida más caliente es la vida más rica!” (Just remember that the heat is the passion and richness of the life in Chinandega. The hottest life is the richest life!) He added, “But still... yeah. It's friggin hot.” I miss that boy.
