Happy Halloween! So here´s the first installment of a Nicaragua travelogue, choc-full of silly tourist meanderings. Sadly, not nearly as witty as a Bill Bryson account.
*Sat 10/23: Sat in the San Salvador terminal at 9AM waiting for the 8AM departure bus (ETA Managua 6:30PM). I chatted with a Nicaraguan lady, who tried to convince me we would make it there no later than 4. We arrive at 10:30, and I stayed overnight in the capital.
*Sun 10/24: caught a minibus to the nearby town of Masaya, and jumped off when I saw clusters of children dancing in traditional costume around the parque central. Each group of dancers is surrounded by dozens of family & strangers admiring the dances (they were great!). I took photos for awhile. Everyone I talked with gave a slightly different explanation, but the gist was a 3-MONTH celebration for their patron San Jerónimo. I also walked through the nationally-known artisan market, fighting temptation to buy from every jewelry-vender. Then I made my way to the neighboring village of Catarina, one of the charming "pueblos blancos" where Masaya´s artesania is made. I sat for awhile at a lookout point over the crater-lake Lago Apoyo. As lovely as the natural beauty was the fiesta atmosphere of Nicaraguan families who also came to enjoy the view.
At the bus stop (i.e. unmarked spot by the highway where people say buses pass), I met 3 nice guys, fellow-travelers, and together we took an indirect, rainy route to Granada--a tourist hotspot in Central America (like Antigua in Guate, but not as pleasant, IMO). So obviously, there was a Norteamericana style sports bar, where my fleeting friends and I stopped to watch the Vikings vs. Packers.
*Mon 10/25: explored the colonial buildings & streets & markets. I wasn´t able to see the convent where St. Bartolome de Las Casas wrote his famous 1525 letter--with its outlandish proposal that indigenous people were, in fact, people and therefore deserving of human rights. I remember reading that letter in Fr. Gutierrez´s class, long ago... After a full morning, I´d seen most of Granada´s highlights, so I caught the 4-hr boatride across Lago Nicaragua to the Isla de Ometepe.
We (handful of backpackers) arrived at the island´s muddy docs well after dark. I had called ahead to a lodge hotel on a coffee finca, and was lucky to find others going the same general direction to share a taxi. Taxi = standing crammed in the back of a pickup as it rumbled for an hour over the rocky, muddy roads. Rocky & muddy enough that at some point, we had to change to a heavier-duty pickup. A quick bout of sickness was gaining fuerza in my belly at this most convenient time, so I had a moment of low & lonely self-pity. I was thrilled to finally curl up under a cosy mosquito net in my lodge bed.
*Tues 10/26: as I regained my full capacity, enjoyed a morning at the lovely Finca Magdelena. Met a handsome French photographer who entertained me by talking about his research and personal experience with "lucid dreaming." Worth googling, as trivia knowledge if nothing else. Later, I made my way around the island to the port town of Moyogalpa to arrange an excursion for the next day.
*Wed 10/27: climbed Volcan Concepción, one of two volcanoes on the island; at 1630-meters, it´s the second highest volcano in Nicaragua. With an Icelandic guy and our guide, started from 100m above sea level. While still in thick vegetation, our guide pointed out trees of glue & howler monkeys, among other things. My compañero decided to stop once we passed the treeline, so I continued with our guide. Unfortunately, once we reached 1400, he decided the sulfuric gases were too strong--the volcano is in its annual-ish period of eruption--so we couldn´t summit. In retrospect, that was probably for the better, because as he watched me frequently fall *UP*, the guide told me, "you will have real problems getting down." He was very right. I slid & slipped all the way down, scraping my hands, and swearing profusely at my sore knees and clumsy feet. Moutain climbing may never be an activity I can do with any skill, but I loved this challenge.
*Thurs 10/28: rented a moped to explore the island (30x10km for a size ref). Of course it was a big lavish & touristy (though 22USD/day was a great deal). And, soy turista! When again in my life would I be in place with a chance to ride the wind through such natural and human beauty? Hands down, awesome day.
While traveling this week, I am reading Che Guevara´s "Motorcycle Diaries" (in Spanish). Coincidental to read it now...since Che was also a 23-year-old medical student, on a yearlong leave, when he drove around South America. His perceptions and vision are naturally far deeper than anything I´ve yet conceptualized myself. But I like thinking about the path we are all riding: a journey of young minds & hearts realizing the desperation of our times, resolving to be part of history. To struggle forever, and live the memory of those we encounter along the way.
A wise man said something along these lines yesterday, at the "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear." So Nica-continuation pending, will close with the words of Jon Stewart:
“We know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light, we have to work together. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.”
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Listening & Learning
Class today was a trip to the botanical gardens, an impressive collection of local biodiversity and gifts from around the world. Wilmer, my teacher, related the cultural and medicinal importance of the plants, including the various methods of using "florifundia," a highly halucenogenic flower. We parted ways as usual, saying "nos vemos mañana." And then, with a thud of sadness, I realized tomorrow will be our last class together.
On Saturday, I´m heading to Nicaragua (11hr busing, 2 border crossings) to spend a week traveling there before meeting up with my friends, Thomas and Alicia, in Managua the following weekend. I doubt I´ll encounter whatever exotic challenges the cast of "Survivor:Nicaragua" is currently facing...but you never know. Then directly to Honduras to visit another of my dearest Domer friends, who´s working in the eastern Olancho region. Return to San Salv around Nov 4.
My random birthplace (i.e. not in the Salvadoran campo) gave me "intellectual lens" with with to approach everything from cell biology to...the Salvadoran campo. I want badly to go beyond the books, to learn to live in some solidarity with peoples´ real experiences here. But starting from "level nada" in Spanish with limited time, much of what I´ve learned about this country has come through indirect accounts. A few highlights of my education, just from the past week:
-An open lecture on neoliberalism & the Salvadoran economy at the Nacional Univ, where the speaker urged a packed auditorium that "ya no seamos subjetos de historia." I hope, also, that this country´s youth can start standing up to the oligarchy-friendly policies of past generations.
-Reading Fidel Castro´s recent daily sections in a leftist newspaper. He dedicated the last week to publishing chapter synopses of Bob Woodward´s "Obama´s Wars" book, which he felt so important for the Latin American world to understand that he had it rush-translated.
-Listening to a few hours of taped war testimonies, offered by people in a small pueblo where Wilmer once assisted a couple anthropologists. He had to help me a good bit with the campesino Spanish, but from the memories I heard...I can´t even imagine...
-Actually...Every single day in class, since early August, I´ve learned something new from Wilmer about El Salvador´s past & present. I could only directly encounter the tiniest sliver, but am so grateful to have had the opportunity to listen.
A couple fun side notes:
-Went to an Aventura concert on Friday. The Dominican band fuses tradicional "bachata" music with pop-rap, and is hugely popular--as I now recognize their songs on about every third bus ride. The 20,000ish stadium was packed, with whole crowd belting with the band for the entire 3-hrs of the show. My friend and I were in the nosebleed section. Yet, during the song entitled "Take Your Clothes Off Slowly," I could still see the mosh-pit hurl a hot pink bra at the lead singer. Most well known hit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1h3iPtpY18
-Lovely evening yesterday hosted at a girls´ home in the neighborhood of Mexicanos (site of the gang-led bus burning this summer). My friend, Jenna, lived there one summer, and maintains the connection now that she´s back here on a Fulbright. Playing Jenga and Twister and Jacks--despite my still-very-shaky Spanish--brought much affection from the sweet (and smart!) girls...
-Returned home a couple days ago to see a big bus right outside our house. Was puzzled, because buses never pass direct through the neighborhood, and this wasn´t even one of the nearest route. Mystery solved a moment later when my dear house parents got off...the driver was giving the older couple doorside service. I hurried to take my madre´s grocery bag from her, and as I did so, she grasped my forearm to steady herself in a way that reminded me, emotionally & almost viscerally, of how my Grandma would use me as support 10 years ago. Mi madre had just been named "Reina" of their neighborhood social group at an annual lunch. As she showed me her crown, shedding glitter everywhere, she remarked, "78 years of such hard work...it´s about time!"
-My favorite internet cafe, just went from playing MLK´s "I Have a Dream" speech to a techno version "Bad Romance." Big improvement over last week´s "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."
On Saturday, I´m heading to Nicaragua (11hr busing, 2 border crossings) to spend a week traveling there before meeting up with my friends, Thomas and Alicia, in Managua the following weekend. I doubt I´ll encounter whatever exotic challenges the cast of "Survivor:Nicaragua" is currently facing...but you never know. Then directly to Honduras to visit another of my dearest Domer friends, who´s working in the eastern Olancho region. Return to San Salv around Nov 4.
My random birthplace (i.e. not in the Salvadoran campo) gave me "intellectual lens" with with to approach everything from cell biology to...the Salvadoran campo. I want badly to go beyond the books, to learn to live in some solidarity with peoples´ real experiences here. But starting from "level nada" in Spanish with limited time, much of what I´ve learned about this country has come through indirect accounts. A few highlights of my education, just from the past week:
-An open lecture on neoliberalism & the Salvadoran economy at the Nacional Univ, where the speaker urged a packed auditorium that "ya no seamos subjetos de historia." I hope, also, that this country´s youth can start standing up to the oligarchy-friendly policies of past generations.
-Reading Fidel Castro´s recent daily sections in a leftist newspaper. He dedicated the last week to publishing chapter synopses of Bob Woodward´s "Obama´s Wars" book, which he felt so important for the Latin American world to understand that he had it rush-translated.
-Listening to a few hours of taped war testimonies, offered by people in a small pueblo where Wilmer once assisted a couple anthropologists. He had to help me a good bit with the campesino Spanish, but from the memories I heard...I can´t even imagine...
-Actually...Every single day in class, since early August, I´ve learned something new from Wilmer about El Salvador´s past & present. I could only directly encounter the tiniest sliver, but am so grateful to have had the opportunity to listen.
A couple fun side notes:
-Went to an Aventura concert on Friday. The Dominican band fuses tradicional "bachata" music with pop-rap, and is hugely popular--as I now recognize their songs on about every third bus ride. The 20,000ish stadium was packed, with whole crowd belting with the band for the entire 3-hrs of the show. My friend and I were in the nosebleed section. Yet, during the song entitled "Take Your Clothes Off Slowly," I could still see the mosh-pit hurl a hot pink bra at the lead singer. Most well known hit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1h3iPtpY18
-Lovely evening yesterday hosted at a girls´ home in the neighborhood of Mexicanos (site of the gang-led bus burning this summer). My friend, Jenna, lived there one summer, and maintains the connection now that she´s back here on a Fulbright. Playing Jenga and Twister and Jacks--despite my still-very-shaky Spanish--brought much affection from the sweet (and smart!) girls...
-Returned home a couple days ago to see a big bus right outside our house. Was puzzled, because buses never pass direct through the neighborhood, and this wasn´t even one of the nearest route. Mystery solved a moment later when my dear house parents got off...the driver was giving the older couple doorside service. I hurried to take my madre´s grocery bag from her, and as I did so, she grasped my forearm to steady herself in a way that reminded me, emotionally & almost viscerally, of how my Grandma would use me as support 10 years ago. Mi madre had just been named "Reina" of their neighborhood social group at an annual lunch. As she showed me her crown, shedding glitter everywhere, she remarked, "78 years of such hard work...it´s about time!"
-My favorite internet cafe, just went from playing MLK´s "I Have a Dream" speech to a techno version "Bad Romance." Big improvement over last week´s "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
El Nuevo Mundo
Another good chunk of time has passed since I either a)felt inspired to update my 3.5 follower friends b)desired to prolong the internet cafe sauna or c)had something semi-interesting to say. Factor (c) is the major determinant.
I spent a week in Guatemala at the end of September, passing through Antigua before making my way to Xela, where I attended language school for a week. Much more popular a Spanish-learning destination than El Salv, Xela is home to some 25 schools. I highly recommend my choice (ICA, www.guatemalaspanish.com), with 5-hours one-on-one instruction per day. Following a Swiss-cheese analogy I tried to stretch across the cultures, my teacher worked hard to "fill in the holes" in my Spanish grammar. (Of course not even the best "maestro" could fully suceed.) He also explained much about Guatemalan history & culture. Which was good, because I unfortunately felt a bit too under the weather to explore much--and said ´weather´ was constant pouring rain all day, everyday.
Speaking of rain (and global economy & climate change), the whole region has experienced much more than its annual average rainfall. Which means El Salvador is importing even more staple foods, at record high prices. And while I was in Guatemala, tropical storms knocked out the border bridge....which meant my return bus had to take backroads across the frontera, and while driving through such muddy cornfields in the dark, had a flat tire. While I dozed, all the men felt compelled to get off the bus and watch the poor driver try to change it. Apparently, the border is still closed, further increasing food prices.
In earlier posts, I´ve mentioned how impressed I am by Salvadorans´ desire to preserve collective memory, even (perhaps especially) the hard memories. This past weekend brought an opportunity for me to directly experience the healing that comes from shared remembering: between 20-30 of my HSC Field Hospital "teammates" came to campus for the ND-Pitt game. And especially, the core people--now among my great heroes--were there. We each told stories (familiar to most listeners) of the crazy, unlikely happenings in the months after the earthquake, lamented over how bad things still are in Leogane, wished we each could do more, and resolved to keep trying... together, as a team. I was grateful my parents support their daughter´s memory to bring me back home for this, and also that they wanted to meet the people who are--will continue to be--among my most special mentors & friends.
Returning to El Salvador, was met with happy welcome from my madre, padre, and hermana here. I spent all day yesterday (our "Columbus Day") at a national Festival for Indigenous Resistence, marking 518 years of the constant struggle to remember. As the MC put it, "to be indigenous is more than an identity...we need to remember our special conscience." Events included forum discussions, Nahuat poetry readings, music, dance, artesenia, chi-cha...all with a lively crowd. At one point, I was interviewed by a local news station. To my chagrin, my teacher told me today that he had in fact seen me on TV. yikes.
Back to collective memory, for just as I was nodding off during one of the late afternoon forums, people around me jumped up to offer their own impassioned perspectives. Their impulse, the desire to speak, is so pervasive here: from the funky, youth-organized sustainability music festival a few weeks ago, to the prior generation´s wise reflections at the San Ramon base eclesial community each Sunday. And people not only speak, but act also, working together to share what they have and struggling for the justice that they believe each person deserves. Every little bit I witness is a privilege.
A friend recently asked me how I find the spirits of people El Salvador, in comparison to Haiti. While I´ve not been long enough in either place to really answer, both countries make me question what it means to be "developed." Haiti doesn´t have many ATMs, or enough ARVs, and so remains decades behind the "rest" of the world. Yet, its people hold a more nuanced appreciation of the collective history of the Americas--conquistadors, coups, corporations--than we do, or at least more than I do.
So on a day when "American" schoolchildren (North being considered the only...) learn about the "discovery" of this land, the Salvadoran woman leading yesterday´s celebration here simply commented, "Una otra America es posible, diversa y multicultural, si juntos estamos caminando para que otro mundo sea posible."
(see GoogleTranslate, rt side of page)
Finally, my laugh for the day: a friend recently passed along this warning of the potential dangers should I now boast that I "speak Spanish."
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/11/09/115-promising-to-learn-a-new-language/
I spent a week in Guatemala at the end of September, passing through Antigua before making my way to Xela, where I attended language school for a week. Much more popular a Spanish-learning destination than El Salv, Xela is home to some 25 schools. I highly recommend my choice (ICA, www.guatemalaspanish.com), with 5-hours one-on-one instruction per day. Following a Swiss-cheese analogy I tried to stretch across the cultures, my teacher worked hard to "fill in the holes" in my Spanish grammar. (Of course not even the best "maestro" could fully suceed.) He also explained much about Guatemalan history & culture. Which was good, because I unfortunately felt a bit too under the weather to explore much--and said ´weather´ was constant pouring rain all day, everyday.
Speaking of rain (and global economy & climate change), the whole region has experienced much more than its annual average rainfall. Which means El Salvador is importing even more staple foods, at record high prices. And while I was in Guatemala, tropical storms knocked out the border bridge....which meant my return bus had to take backroads across the frontera, and while driving through such muddy cornfields in the dark, had a flat tire. While I dozed, all the men felt compelled to get off the bus and watch the poor driver try to change it. Apparently, the border is still closed, further increasing food prices.
In earlier posts, I´ve mentioned how impressed I am by Salvadorans´ desire to preserve collective memory, even (perhaps especially) the hard memories. This past weekend brought an opportunity for me to directly experience the healing that comes from shared remembering: between 20-30 of my HSC Field Hospital "teammates" came to campus for the ND-Pitt game. And especially, the core people--now among my great heroes--were there. We each told stories (familiar to most listeners) of the crazy, unlikely happenings in the months after the earthquake, lamented over how bad things still are in Leogane, wished we each could do more, and resolved to keep trying... together, as a team. I was grateful my parents support their daughter´s memory to bring me back home for this, and also that they wanted to meet the people who are--will continue to be--among my most special mentors & friends.
Returning to El Salvador, was met with happy welcome from my madre, padre, and hermana here. I spent all day yesterday (our "Columbus Day") at a national Festival for Indigenous Resistence, marking 518 years of the constant struggle to remember. As the MC put it, "to be indigenous is more than an identity...we need to remember our special conscience." Events included forum discussions, Nahuat poetry readings, music, dance, artesenia, chi-cha...all with a lively crowd. At one point, I was interviewed by a local news station. To my chagrin, my teacher told me today that he had in fact seen me on TV. yikes.
Back to collective memory, for just as I was nodding off during one of the late afternoon forums, people around me jumped up to offer their own impassioned perspectives. Their impulse, the desire to speak, is so pervasive here: from the funky, youth-organized sustainability music festival a few weeks ago, to the prior generation´s wise reflections at the San Ramon base eclesial community each Sunday. And people not only speak, but act also, working together to share what they have and struggling for the justice that they believe each person deserves. Every little bit I witness is a privilege.
A friend recently asked me how I find the spirits of people El Salvador, in comparison to Haiti. While I´ve not been long enough in either place to really answer, both countries make me question what it means to be "developed." Haiti doesn´t have many ATMs, or enough ARVs, and so remains decades behind the "rest" of the world. Yet, its people hold a more nuanced appreciation of the collective history of the Americas--conquistadors, coups, corporations--than we do, or at least more than I do.
So on a day when "American" schoolchildren (North being considered the only...) learn about the "discovery" of this land, the Salvadoran woman leading yesterday´s celebration here simply commented, "Una otra America es posible, diversa y multicultural, si juntos estamos caminando para que otro mundo sea posible."
(see GoogleTranslate, rt side of page)
Finally, my laugh for the day: a friend recently passed along this warning of the potential dangers should I now boast that I "speak Spanish."
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/11/09/115-promising-to-learn-a-new-language/
Monday, October 11, 2010
Too Good to Be True - Ways to Help Out
While immensely grateful for the chance to take time off school... for both the teamwork in Haiti, and now for relaxing free time to learn Spanish in Central America... I do REALLY wish I'd been in this lecture hall a couple weeks ago.
Dr. Randy King directs the MCM (molecular&cellular basis of medicine) course I took last fall, and as the video express, he is a master of teaching metabolic pathway integration, and discovering cell cycle regulation mechanisms. This class of future docs & dentists, which I will soon be lucky to join, decided to offer tribute to Randy's genius in an effort to raise funds for the neglected disaster in Pakistan.
Embrace humor. Reject embarrassment. Help others.
Enjoy (best action is up to 4:23).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKid4dMDl4U
Dr. Randy King directs the MCM (molecular&cellular basis of medicine) course I took last fall, and as the video express, he is a master of teaching metabolic pathway integration, and discovering cell cycle regulation mechanisms. This class of future docs & dentists, which I will soon be lucky to join, decided to offer tribute to Randy's genius in an effort to raise funds for the neglected disaster in Pakistan.
Embrace humor. Reject embarrassment. Help others.
Enjoy (best action is up to 4:23).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKid4dMDl4U
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