La Vida Nica

While the Valor team was here, they had the awesome opportunity (which means so did I) to help Henry out with his new house that he is building for his family. He began building the home recently, but when we went to visit with Henry and ask about the house, he still needed a few things. Henry is the type of person who is an absolute JOY to work with, be around, and learn from. He is an incredibly hard worker who is well respected in the community, and someone we are honored to work with. While we were talking with him, we were secretly doing a little recon work, because we had the idea to see if the Valor team wanted to help him out. It was so fun to bring the subject up with Miss Debbie, because she, like all of us, loves Henry and was SO excited to help out.

It was so fun to visit with Shayling (Henry’s wife) and talk through which colors she wanted for their home. She was so excited. When we talked through the colors with Henry, we asked him if he liked the color of the wood. He said he did, he thought it was beautiful, but it definitely needed to have either paint on top (which felt like a sin to me) or varnish, but varnish is very expensive. We all talked later, and easily decided that we wanted to buy the varnish. I think collectively we wanted to bless Henry, Shayling and Oliver (their son), whatever the cost.

We ended up buying the inside paint, outside paint and varnish for the team to help with. And then to help him finish his porch, we bought the remaining sheets of tin, cement and stones.

As an added bonus, the team was also able to buy Henry, Shayling and Oliver a truck load of new furniture. I was in tears watching the Valor team carry the bed frames, mattresses, pillows, dressers, rocking chairs and end table into the house.

The furniture was a complete surprise to them, and as I stood there with Shayling, I asked her what she thought. “It’s so beautiful. How beautiful,” was her response.

Landon and Henry were standing together a few minutes later, and I walked up and asked the same thing to Henry. He replied that he had no words, and began to tear up. Somehow the subject changed and he was able to pull it back in, but it was so incredible to watch someone we value so much be honored in such a profound way.

 

Over the past ten days or so we have worked closely with an incredible group of young people from Valor High School. Valor is a Christian high school in Denver, Colorado, with a devotion to providing their students with what they call Discovery Experiences. Essentially, they have an entire program at their school that encourages and organizes short term mission trips. Some are local, to places like downtown Denver, and some are international, like here in Nicaragua, India, Puerto Rico and more. Each student is encouraged to complete ‘service hours’ while enrolled at Valor, and many of those can come from a mission trip. But its not just a box to be checked. Many of the students we hosted this past week have rich relationships with Christ, want to know Him more deeply, and have huge hearts to serve. It is inspiring and so beautiful.

Their trip consisted of putting on a camp for the kids who live out near Ruby Ranch, as well as a few different projects. And then after camp and working out at the Ranch, they completely blessed the Casa Robles boys and Casa Havilah girls with home visits, a beach day, and an after church lunch and movie date at the local mall. For their day off we went to the Huembes market and then out to Laguna de Apoyo, for an afternoon of swimming and relaxing.

I was trying to think of the most profound thing of their time here in Nicaragua, from my perspective as someone hosting them, and I think what I enjoyed the most was the conversations. Many of the students are incredibly smart, athletic, successful teenagers. Many of them are maybe only going into their junior year, but have a very good idea of what they want to do in the future. (I spoke with one who told me he was planning on getting into a fast track MD program, and then probably becoming a cardiologist or radiologist. He also took Algebra as a 4th grader.) But more than all their success and accolades, they were all genuinely interesting and kind-hearted human beings, who were just as curious about normal life here in Nicaragua for the kids we were around to why we had moved here to serve full time. We also had the opportunity to have very honest, straight forward conversations about what it means to follow Christ with your life. What it means to honor the Lord through your success. And a lot of these conversations happened instead of the student participating in whatever ‘fun’ thing was going on. I was continually honored that they would want my perspective or thoughts on what they were walking through. And it was a joy to answer questions about what the Lord has taught me through our time here in Nicaragua. Through our process to get here. We were blown away by the students.

We were so glad to host those 29 Coloradans, and can’t wait to see how they change the world.

Yikes! Its been a while!! Sorry about that…

This isn’t going to be a long post because we’ve had long days the past few, tomorrow morning is church (and another full day), and I’m tired.

BUT! I wanted to invite readers of this blog to follow us on Instagram, if you aren’t already. Landon and I tend to post small snippets numerous times a day on our accounts, and following them would be a pretty fair representation of the things we are experiencing here. Plus, sometimes, when you’ve had a 15+ hour day, it is much easier to post a picture and quick caption than to write an entire post.

So if you’d like to follow along you can follow us at these three accounts, though you will have to request to follow our personal accounts, as they are set on private:

Landon @landocommando78

Jamie @funsizedbaron

Both @the.barons

And be looking forward to some posts coming the middle of this week about what we have been up to for the past few weeks!

Buying a vehicle in Nicaragua is almost as interesting as driving one. Unlike what we are used to, a two year old vehicle here in Nicaragua could very well look like (and have been driven like) its actually ten years old. Some of this is due to pot holes in roads, back streets that are actually more like cow trails, and a host of other hazards on the road. But also, if something breaks, not a lot of people here in Nicaragua fix those things well. Things will be fixed, but maybe with a part of lesser value, or quite literally, caulk. Its not bad (and actually a lot of people are very resourceful) but as we were looking for a good quality used vehicle, we had some issues.

The first truck we looked at was a 2014 Toyota Hilux that looked like it would be pretty awesome from what we could see on the encuentra24.com post, which is like the Nicaraguan version of Craigslist. So we planned to meet the owner at a nearby gas station with Brinson and Santos. (Again, Santos deserves his own blog post…) As we all climbed out of Brinson’s truck and began looking at the champagne colored Hilux, the excitement quickly dissipated. I am not a car person but even I could tell that the truck had not been taken care of well, and in fact had probably been in an accident, after which it was fixed on the cheap. Brinson, Landon and Santos quickly confirmed. The oil needed to be changed, the after market fenders were detaching, and the ‘fixed’ issues were hardly better. So we said thank you to the owner, and drove away. A little bummed, but also more sure that we needed to make sure to meticulously check any vehicle we were thinking about spending money on.

Luckily, in the mean time, we have had a vehicle to drive, so we have been able to be a little picky and take our time. But with teams coming soon, we really wanted to get this loose end tied up. So we kept searching, and then tossed around the idea of going to the used car lot here in Managua. There is a big car dealer, called Casa Pellas, and across the street from their new lot they have a used lot. Couldn’t hurt, right?

We arrived at the hottest part of the day (why? I have no idea) and began walking around looking at the different vehicles. There were loads of Hilux’s, which gave us a little bit of confidence. Surely we could find one here. A salesman came out to help us, and he was awesome. He was patient, kind, and helpful. I think we may have looked at every Hilux on the lot that afternoon, and he was happy to continue to get the keys so we could turn them on and listen to the engines. There was a silver 2014 that seemed good. It already had a brush guard, a roof rack, a heavy duty bed liner, tinted windows and running boards. I personally didn’t care for the roof rack, but oh well. It started up well, and we kept coming back to it. Brinson met us there and we showed it to him. He liked the truck, but was concerned that it looked like the had painted the chassis. Which didn’t readily make sense, except that maybe there was rust they were trying to hide. We decided to think about things and maybe come back the next day.

The next afternoon (at the same time, almost) we returned, but this time with Santos. And he crawled under, over and all around that truck checking EVERYTHING. I seriously was so grateful that he could and would come to look at the truck for us. He checked for leaks, loose parts, and typical signs of neglect. And then he took it on a test drive. I personally wasn’t there, as Brinson, Landon, Santos and the salesman, Carlos, went on the drive, but I was told later that Santos didn’t hold any stops. He drove it hard, trying to expose any potential issues or sounds that could cause problems for us later. Upon returning to the lot he said it was a good truck, with a great motor, but he didn’t think it was worth what they were asking. So we took that into consideration, and told Carlos our offer. He said they couldn’t do it, and we said ok. And then began the waiting game. We were very straight forward about what we were willing to pay, and that we were very willing to pay that, but not more. And then we left. And it took five days, but they finally accepted our offer!

We went to go pay for the truck and pick it up, and Carlos told us they could do a complimentary maintenance on the truck, to sort of set everything at zero for us. Oil change, check the brakes, top of the fluids, etc. We agreed and said we would return that evening to get the truck. When we did, though, we entered what we now jokingly (but sort of seriously) call the ‘Nica vortex’. [The Nica vortex is this thing that exists that means that everything is going to take more time than it needs to, and consist of more stamps (they love stamps here) and generally just be a little less efficient.] Carlos broke the news to us that when they did the maintenance they found that all the doors unlock together, but would not lock together. So they wanted to put an alarm on the truck, because it might fix it. We agreed to them keeping our truck another day, and prayed it would work. It didn’t, but it seems that it is something we can fix still. So in the end, our patience got us not only the price we wanted, but an alarm system and the roof rack, which they were going to remove when they told us they would accept our offer.

All said and done, the process took over a week to finalize, but we now have a truck that we believe will be an awesome vehicle for us here in Nica. And I can cross one more thing off my To-Do list (which is always a good thing).

When you leave the airport in Managua, you enter a different kind of reality. One where horns are commonplace, buses seem like death traps, and traffic laws seem more like suggestions than rules to be adhered to. In all honesty, driving in Nicaragua feels like a giant game of Mario Kart. There are banana peels (literally), oil slicks, insane drivers, and sometimes even fire. I wish that was a joke. So naturally, all the chaos also means there are accidents. Some are worse than others, but to be honest, getting in an accident almost feels like a given. Eventually the perfectly chaotic system is going to break and someone is not going to check their mirror, and two moving objects are going to collide.

Thankfully, when we got in our accident early last week, it was an annoyance more than anything. What happened was this: we were going to change over money at the money changers on the side of the road. [The money changing system deserves its own blog post, so I won’t go into details here.] As we approached the shade trees we saw the semi truck parked with its flashers on, right where we needed to be. We quickly discussed the best plan for where to park, and decided it would probably be best to pull past and in front of the truck. Landon checked to see if the guy’s tires were moving yet (which they weren’t) and then pulled in front. At just the perfect moment the semi driver began to pull out and his front driver side bumper collided with our rear passenger side panel and tail light. It took a second for us to realize what had happened, but as we came to a stop the reality sunk in: we had had our first accident.

The short version of the rest of the story is that the police came, as did Santos [an awesome guy who works for the Buzbees and also deserves his own blog post] and we all talked. In the interest of time and minimizing everyone’s headaches over the incident we ended up paying the semi driver 1500 Cordobas. (Everyone ended up agreeing that it was perfectly terrible timing, but when you looked at it all, we were at fault.) The truck driver and Landon ended up signing an affidavit of sorts releasing one another of any further responsibility, and the police officer called it done.

As is usually the case, we learned from this ‘adventure’ as well. The two very valuable lessons are these: 1) even though there is a rhythm to the chaos that is driving in Nicaragua, we need to be diligent to be careful and aware; and 2) Brinson’s late 90’s model Land Cruiser is a tank.

We began going to Miss Ruby’s house back in 2013. We went on the suggestion of our former pastor, Joe. “Whatever you do, don’t leave Nicaragua without going to Miss Ruby’s to pray with the Buzbees.” We convinced our brand new friends to give us part of their day, and we drove to the prayer house. Miss Ruby passed away back in 2010, but in February of 2013 we were able to meet her sister, Miss Margarita, for the first time. At about 4’6” she was not overwhelming in her physique, but man, as soon as she began praying, that impression changed very quickly. I don’t know that I will ever forget her holding our hands in hers and violently shaking our arms back and forth as she pleaded for the Lord’s mercy over our lives. “Mercy! Mercy! Mercy, Lord! Be merciful to them!” We received other deeply personal and profound words that day, as well, but that first encounter with the 80-something Caribbean coast Nicaraguan woman changed something in us. To feel the Holy Spirit’s power and deep love through her brought us face to face with the Lover of our souls. The One we have set all else aside for. And He has continued to meet us there.

Now we travel to Miss Ruby’s prayer house to pray for others. Today we prayed for a couple who are deeply and purposefully seeking the Lord for their lives, and the direction they are to go with it. Landon received a vivid picture for them, and the Lord spoke clearly to me about a meaningful word as well. And the most beautiful part of it all is this: we get to share the Lord’s heart with others. We get to hear from the Lord, our Creator, and then share His great love. As we prayed for these dear ones today we were both deeply encouraged as well: we only met them a couple of days ago. We have shared a few meals and conversations with them, but nothing profound. Nothing on a deep level. But as we all come before the Lord with our hearts postured to receive from Him, He ministers love and healing and mercy over these ones who are waiting to hear. Waiting to hear Him speak. To say we are honored to be a part of this ministry, and to see it grow and expand, is an understatement.

I have been thinking a lot lately about how to accurately describe in words what our time at language school has been like. There is a tendency, as human beings, to share about the parts that make us uncomfortable. The parts that I would say, in Spanish, “me molesta.” [Bother me.] Because the parts that bug us are so visceral. And sometimes, so overwhelming, that it seems like it it all that is happening. But as we have shared with one another about our days, or how we feel like we are progressing with the language, there is always a hope. A sliver of ‘but it won’t be like this forever’ in our voices that lets the other know that we’re still in this. Still committed to learning, growing and stretching, no matter how uncomfortable the moment might be. And I believe we have both begun to listen for the hope. For the parts of the other’s explanation that reminds us that life here won’t always be stressful, or at least not in the way we are experiencing right now.

On a side note, I hope you don’t read this and think, “Oh its terrible for them. Poor things.” Just like anywhere, the frustrating/painful/stressful moments are intricately intertwined with the beautiful/triumphant/joyous moments. We are realizing, day by day, that the two must coincide, and do so perfectly. Even if we only see the perfection in retrospect.

• Being in Granada has been both exciting and heavy.

Our language school exists to assist kids in potentially vulnerable home lives. Much like Open Hearts attempts to reach out to kids before the situation becomes too detrimental, Casa Xalteva does as well. So just like we begin class at 8am, so do the kids enrolled in the program at Xalteva. And seeing them each morning, full of life, laughing and playing, makes my heart grateful and relieved. The school is able to continue and do well in Granada because it is a tourist spot, so the amount of people who travel here to learn Spanish is immense. However, not every tourist comes with the best of intentions, and there is a dark underbelly of prostitution and child exploitation here in Granada. For instance, one of our fellow language school students, was walking around the second day we were here, taking in the sights, when a young boy on the street tried to sell him something like gum or a souvenir. When he politely declined, and began to walk away, the boy called out, “Blow job for $5.” Our classmate is a father himself, and was incredibly upset by the interaction. He told Landon about it the next day at class, and essentially said, “I wish you and your wife the best of luck with what you are trying to do here. Because it’s not going to be easy.”

• Be careful where you walk. Seriously.

As is the case everywhere else in Nicaragua, stray dogs are everywhere in Granada. There are three or four who ‘live’ on our street alone. These mangey, haggard animals don’t ‘belong’ to anyone, but everyone seems to feed them scraps, so they stick around. That means that they also ‘do their business’ anywhere. On the sidewalk, in the street, wherever. (There does not exist here a culture of ‘picking up your pet’s poop’ either). So, very seriously, you have to be careful where you walk, or else you might add a little extra scent to the bottom of your shoe.

Also, there are holes in the sidewalks here you have to watch out for. And by hole, I mean it looks like there should maybe be a cover on it, since its about the size of two dinner plates and about a foot deep, but there is nothing covering it. So you learn to watch where you step, every moment.

• Delicious pastries, on the cheap.

Even though buying food in Granada is definitely more expensive than other places in Nica, there are some treasures you can find for less than a dollar. For instance, about three blocks from our school there is a little pastry and coffee shop called Maria Elena. They make delicious, from scratch, pastries which cost, on average, 20 cordobas. With an exchange rate of C$28.40 to $1, that makes a delectable treat about $0.70. And, an added bonus for me is that the fresh made breads and pastries here in Nicaragua do not both my stomach the way they would in the States. Coffee and cinnamon roll? Yes please.

• Please don’t ever ask to visit us in April.

We joked the other day about how we would suggest in the strongest way possible to anyone asking about visiting, that April is not a good time. That we are closed. I thought we could deal with it just fine, being a little uncomfortable, but otherwise ok. I was wrong. The heat is so overwhelming and unrelenting, that you find yourself completely exhausted by about noon. It is usually everything I can do to sit at the table and eat my lunch, because all I want to do is go lay in front of the fan and sleep for three hours. And because it never really cools down, our sleep has been hit and miss, which obviously adds to the exhaustion during the day. For those of you wondering how hot is hot, 100ish in the day and 85ish at night, with no air conditioning. I seriously get so excited when there is a breeze on the porch in the evening. “Mas fresca,” I exclaim, with a huge smile.

• Rice and beans. Beans and rice. Rice with beans. Gallo pinto… All day. E’ry day.

With nearly every meal here in Granada, we have been served beans and rice. Sometimes mixed together. Sometimes separate on the plate. Sometimes with a few slices of onions mixed in. But every day. It is an incredibly inexpensive way to feed numerous people, and in a country where lots of people are struggling to feed their families, it makes a lot of sense to be served it everyday. We just may choose to not eat it in our home, when it is up to us. That is all.

• Mobile grocery stores may be my favorite thing.

Every morning a man comes buy selling milk out of giant jars, on his bike. He rides up and down the streets yelling, “Leche!” but all you hear, usually, in the ‘LAY’ part and you know that it’s the milk guy. He’ll sort of stop at our front door, and Zoila (our host mom) will say either, “No,” or, “Ya, voy.” [Ya, I’m coming.] Then she grabs a container, and he scoops out the unpasteurized, local milk. (Unfortunately, for us, drinking this milk would be very dangerous for our digestive systems, so we don’t.) There is also a bread guy, who walks by each evening with a large crate full of bread, and a fruit/vegetable guy who rides by each morning with bags of different fruits and veggies attached to his bike. The need to go to the grocery store, ever, is very minimal for a local.

• “Lets cross. There is shade over there.”

It turns out that if you live in Nicaragua for any time at all, you begin to understand the aversion locals have to the sun. Its blazing. So anytime there is shade, we walk or stand in it. Even if that means crossing the street on the way home from school twice as many times as needed.

There are numerous other random day to day things I have noticed, but I’ll save those for another post.

Thank you for your continued prayers. We have one more week here in Granada, and appreciate any extra prayers you can offer on our behalf.

For the past two and a half weeks we have been living in Granada, going to language school five days a week, for four hours each morning. And while that may not sound like much time at all, let me tell you that I don’t believe we could do much more. See, its April. And in April, Nicaragua turns from a pleasantly warm (though some say hot) country, to a fiery furnace from which there is no escaping. And electricity is RIDICULOUSLY expensive here, which means that the only places to find air conditioning are places like grocery stores, and maybe Tip Top (which is basically the Nica version of KFC). But everywhere else, it is hot. And by hot, I mean you feel like you’re melting into a puddle within seconds of being here. In fact, just today Landon said to me, “I am sweating so much right now. I know it doesn’t look like it, but the sweat is rolling down my back as I speak.” (And he honestly hardly ever sweats.)

But I wrote the following in my notebook a few days ago and it still rings true:

I think living in Granada has been very good for us. Sure, we are here to learn Spanish, but it has also granted us a very unique view into every day life and reality for middle class Nicaraguan families. We have learned more about life and family culture here in the last two weeks than I think we could have learned any other way. And this is even specific to an economic class in a specific city. I’ve heard that each city in Nica is like each state in the U.S. Each has its own culture, its own food it is famous for, and its own place in the overall economy of Nicaragua. We’re learning how to speak, but also how to communicate. how to show respect and to whom. How to avoid egregious errors that would most likely do immense damage. (Not saying we still won’t make them, but hopefully we’ve kept ourselves from some.) Even though it is hot, and the water gets shut off, and every day is exhausting in an utter and complete way, I know I wouldn’t trade this time. I know it is good for us, in numerous ways.

We went into Elaia last Saturday to return the book I had borrowed a few days before, and as Brinson and I were thinking about what to order, he looked down and pointed to a small phrase on a bracelet. “That’s for you, Jamie. You can’t get away from it.” As I read the message I agreed, as it said (with a rainbow behind it) ‘God Keeps His Promises.’ I began telling Brinson about how when I was leaving Rwanda, on the tarmac, I prayed and asked the Lord to please not keep me away too long. That I wanted to stay, but knew I had to leave, but would He please allow me to return. And then I mourned that loss for the months following. Retrospectively I now know that I had to return to the States in order to date, fall in love with, and eventually marry Landon, but in the moment it hurt like the death of a good friend. The pain was visceral and deep, and on some days, overwhelming. But, as they say here in Nica, ‘poco a poco,’ (little by little) God healed those wounds and even assisted my heart in dreaming and hoping for our communities in Eugene. It wasn’t that the desire to be overseas ever vanished completely, but maybe it was that I learned to trust Him more.

When we were there, also, we met the owners of Elaia, a very sweet Korean couple who love Jesus and are attempting to be a positive influence in their corner of Managua. The husband (whose name escapes me now) asked me if everything was ok as I returned the borrowed book back on the shelf. I said it was, and asked if he worked there or owned it. He said he was the owner and I did what I usually do: I stuck out my hand and said, “I’m Jamie!” I introduced him to Brinson (Landon was in the car), and began asking him about the business and how it was going. I also told him how we had eaten lunch there a few days prior, and how we all enjoyed the sushi. He began telling us more about the business, and even went as far as to show us two extra rooms they are working on. One will be for meetings and contains a large table with many chairs, and the other is a small classroom to teach English in, with a printing press in the back. Part of their ministry in Managua is that they periodically print devotional books in Spanish, and sell them at cost to anyone who would like one. (As a gift, he gave one to me, which I received gratefully.)

As we went back to the main cafe, Brinson asked if we could pray for him and his wife. They said yes, and I ran to get Landon. It was such a sweet moment with them, blessing them and their business, and encouraging them in the work they are doing. We thanked them for creating the space and left to run other errands. As we continued down the road I explained to Landon and Brinson how much I needed that. In Eugene, I LOVED to have conversations with the baristas at my favorite coffee shops. Evan, Matt, Sky… They all became friends, who also happened to make killer coffee. And there was this thing that happened in my heart before we left that said, “But if that can’t happen in Nicaragua, it’ll be ok. I’ll be ok.” BUT GUESS WHAT?! It is happening. That is the thing that I love so much about all this. I thought us saying ‘yes’ to the thing God placed on our heart would come with sacrifices (and it definitely has), but over and over again, we have received those back here. Pick up basketball every week, pickled ginger in the grocery store, and the coffee shop connection are just a few examples. I’m telling you, this story gets better with each passing day.

We have been in Granada for two and a half days now, and in Nicaragua for just over a week, but it has felt like a lot longer. Which is a good thing. We are both finding our ways here, with the language and culture, but also quite literally we know how to get around town. I don’t think my words can adequately express how great it feels to come back to town today and not have to pull out Waze (an app that helps with directions).

We’ve had two days at Casa Xalteva Spanish School, and though that doesn’t seem like much, we are both seeing progress in our ability to speak and understand Spanish. Yesterday began with us meeting our teachers and the director of the school, and hearing a bit about what they are trying to do here in Granada. Casa Xalteva’s approach is two fold: they exist to teach Spanish to foreigners, however they do so on a non-profit basis so that the profits from the school can go to support prevention programs for local at-risk youth. As is the case most places, rehabilitation is very difficult to do well here in Nicaragua, and while there are organizations doing just that,Casa Xalteva exists to provide local kids positive alternatives in life. Most of the kids involved in the program come from some sort of vulnerable situation, and though they themselves may not have a drug problem, maybe a family member does. Or even though they don’t live on the streets, they probably have someone in their family who has or currently does. So the idea behind the program at Casa Xalteva is, essentially, to get to them first. Provide these kids with education, homework help, activities and mentorship (all of which empower them as humans) so that hopefully they make better choices for themselves, despite the possible influences from their families or home lives. Which, honestly, is exactly why we chose the school. We believe strongly in helping before things get crazy, or in the case of these kids, before they are exploited or addicted. The same passion we heard in the voice of the director, Simon, is what we feel for the kids of La Chureca.

Our classes go from 8am-noon, with a break around 10 for coffee and the bathroom. Before we head to school, though, our host mom Zoila, makes sure we have a filling traditional Nica breakfast, typically consisting of eggs, gallo pinto (rice and red beans) and fruit. And of course, coffee for me. After breakfast we walk to school (its about five blocks away) and typically visit with our classmates or teachers before its time to get to work. Landon has more Spanish understanding than I do, so from the get go we were in different classes. But the class I began in ended up not quite being right for me, so I volunteered to move down a level to the “New to Spanish” class, which has been awesome. My teacher, Geral, is about my age, speaks English very well, and thinks of very creative ways to present the material. (For instance today, we played a dice game called Farkle in order to practice our numbers). I am in class with two guys from Switzerland, who are funny and very enjoyable to be around. Landon ended up being the only person at his level in school this week, so he gets to take one on one lessons. Typically you pay a little more for that luxury, but he sort of lucked out. His teacher, Maria, is tough on him, but thats ok. We’re here to learn, right? 😉

After class is out we come home and have lunch, with has varied both days. But usually there is rice, and some protein, and maybe beans or some sort of ‘salad.’ [In Nicaragua, ‘ensalada’ looks more like what we would call salsa in the States. You can get normal salad here, but in traditional Nica food, its more like salsa.] By the time lunch is over (around 1 or so) it is VERY HOT outside, and in a country where electricity is super expensive, air conditioners are a luxury. So, in all honesty, the past two days we have gone places to attempt to escape the heat. Yesterday, that looked like the grocery store (we walked VERY slowly down each aisle and ended up spending maybe $2?) and today we ventured to Laguna de Apoyo, a local volcano made lake. There are restaurants and hotels all around the lake, with gorgeous patio views of the laguna, and for the price of a couple of drinks or maybe a meal, you can have access to their dock and swimming area. For Pacific Northwesterners like us, the $5 we spent on drinks was well worth the relief from the heat.

We try to be home by about 5:45 or 6 each night, as dinner is typically ready around 6:30pm. We usually eat our meals with Zoila, her two grandkids, and maybe her daughter. There is also another great granddaughter who lives next door who has eaten with us a few times. She is two years old, her name is Valentina, and she is adorable. We have really enjoyed visiting with the family here, and are excited to progress in our Spanish so that we can do so more efficiently and clearly.

Our after dinner routine is to sit on the porch with Zoila and watch the neighborhood kids play the game of the night (whether its tag or baseball) and just talk. We are able to ask her lots of questions about Spanish, but also, we are getting to know her and her family more and more every day. What we have noticed is this: even though there are areas in this country that need assistance and there exist people who are unable to parent their children well, there are also loads of people like Zoila. People who are proud of their country, love their family and are happy to extend a welcome to strangers. We are so glad to be here and can’t wait to share more as the days go on.