Car Troubles

When I was a kid I really liked playing MASH with my friends. For those of you who aren't familiar with MASH it is a game of chance where you gamble with your future. This game decides who you marry, how many kids you have, what job you have, your car, your house, where you live, etc. The participant is allowed to choose two answers in each category and the other person adds a horrible choice that fate may choose for you. When it came to my future car, where other kids picked BMW's and Jaguars, I picked an old Saab or an old Volvo. Somehow the stars aligned and I got my dream car when I was sixteen...a 1989 Saab 900 SE. 

I loved that car with all of my heart…even though there was no air conditioning, the radio only worked when it wanted to, and it died about once every few months at the most inconvenient times (in fact, I started carrying a battery charger in my trunk so I could make sure I got to school and back every day). For as long as I can remember I think my Saab, while very beloved, was the most unreliable car my family has owned.

This morning Austin (pronounced owsteen) picked me up in an old Toyota truck. On our way to a rural community, Flor de las Piedras, we got a flat tire, so we turned around and went back to Nagarote to get the tire fixed. Thirty minutes and five dollars later we were on our way to Flor de las Piedras. To reach this community we drove through fields that had brown patches of grass indicating some sort of trail or pathway to the community. Unfortunately, this path was intercepted by a fence being built the same day, so we had to drive over some very rough terrain to get around it. When we finally reached the community the car died and we had another flat tire.

We eventually made it to a neighboring community, La Concha, with a truck full of children for another health day. The truck died three more times during the day and we drove all the way back to Nagarote on a flat tire.

I remember when my Saab died I got so frustrated I would cry and kick the car, which hurt me more than the car. It ruined my entire day when it started out with a portable battery charger and no radio. When we lived through even greater car troubles today I was amazed at the calm and content attitude with which Austin conducted himself. I mentioned to him that car troubles were frustrating and he agreed, but reminded me that when one car, or one way to do things doesn't work, there is always another way to go and that people are always willing to help you find an alternate path you just have to be willing to adapt to the situation. He said sometimes the alternate route will take you somewhere different and teach you something new.

Las Pilas

Today I went to a community called Las Pilas. Rainbow Network was holding another medical clinic and had invited another organization, FamiSalud, to join them in a health day for the community. The day consisted of games, dancing, and activities about eating healthy and washing your hands. It was a great day, but I have to say at one point I was a little uncomfortable watching pre-pubecent children get freaky on the dance floor. I was partially uncomfortable because their moves were a bit obscene, but also because these kids were less than half my age and I couldn't execute those moves if I tried. 

Las Pilas is the current home of Nicole, a girl from the Peace Corps. I had a fantastic time talking to her about her time in Nicaragua and her philosophy on life. I find it very easy to get along with most people I meet in Central America from the United States. For one, I can express myself to the fullest because we can talk in English. I can also usually relate to them because we tend to have similar passions and ideas about the world. That was more true this time than it has been before. Nicole has spent the past two and a half years in Nicaragua and never wants to leave, but she is going to go back to the States in December and start a Masters in Social Work in the fall…which is exactly what I want to do. We spent hours today just talking about life. Here and in the US. 

The last of my time in Las Pilas I spent with adults from the community. Many people believe that individuals and communities in developing nations live in ignorant poverty, but that is not the case. This group of adults were fully aware of their problems and what causes those problems. The difficulty is that they don't have the means to create change.

Another challenge is that you cannot fundamentally change a culture, and many of the obstacles the community faces are brought on by habits of culture. For example, the people in Nicaragua used to eat food wrapped in banana leaves. After eating the food they threw the leaves on the ground. When packaged food entered their lives they ate the food and threw the wrapper on the ground, just like the banana leaf wrapper. There is not an abundant source of information on littering and becoming eco-friendly, so it continues to be a problem. In Las Pilas they are taking initiative to encourage people to put their trash in a trash receptacle,   so today they had cardboard boxes out for trash. It was a valiant effort, but soon the dogs and chickens were knocking the boxes over and pulling the trash out.

I am being beckoned by my friends (all under the age of 15....) Play time!

La excursión

There are many things that I have missed about life in Central America that I didn't realize I missed. I have missed the chirping geckos, the street noises, the friendly greetings, the atmosphere, but most of all I have missed the multiple reality checks I receive each day. 

Today I went on a field trip to Managua with a group of students in secondary school. We went to el palacio national de la cultura, la plaza de la revolutión, el lago de managua, and el parque tiscapa. I had visited most of these places when I was here last, but this time was different. There were a total of 190 students with us from various communities. Most of these students had never been to the city and their eyes were as big as saucers the entire time we were there. Their appreciation of the trip was pretty amazing.

My travel buddies were a mother, Natividad, and her 15-month-old daughter, Karin. Karin was the sweetest little thing I've ever seen. I spent most of the trip with them and on the way home on the bus Natividad was very tired, so I cradled the sleeping Karin all the way to La Paz Centro. There, we switched vehicles and drove a group, including Natividad and Karin, to their homes in Rincón de los bueyes.

During my travels in Central America I have seen a lot of poverty, but this community broke my heart. The dirt road had eroded so much that we could barely drive on it, and actually had to stop at one point and let some people walk the rest of the way home because the road was not in any condition for a car to drive over. The houses in this community were small, most threatening to collapse, and most of the families were quite large. There were also very few trees. The trees they do have are a type called jícaro. They are very short and do not provide much relief from the scorching sun. The children in this community have to walk a long way to school in the heat and on the rough roads in shoes that are less than sufficient.

It is at times like these that I think about my three story, air-conditioned house full of stuff and is surrounded by large maple trees, my air-conditioned car that I use to get around, and the countless other conveniences to which I have access. When I think about all I have I wonder why I don't do more for people like Natividad and why this is what it takes to make me realize that.

La Palma

I don't know what it is about Central America that gives me a complete sense of calm. Maybe its the beautiful people. Maybe its the beautiful country. Maybe its the lack of a stressful lifestyle. I don't know, but I'm not complaining.

I flew into Managua and was met by Jessinia, a woman who works in La Paz Centro which is one of Rainbow Networks offices. She brought me to Nagarote where I will be staying for two weeks in a great hostel. 

This morning Jessinia picked me up and we went to a community called La Palma. We spent all day there holding a medical clinic, passing out micro loans, and talking with the school children.

The medical clinic was stationed in a sparse community center where families gathered to meet with the doctor and get their medicine. During this time I sat on the porch with the women of the community and asked them about their lives and needs as we all sat fanning away the gnats.

I then walked next door to the school to talk to the children and teachers about the materials they need in order to provide a good education. The first thing they told me was more teachers. Each teacher in La Palma is responsible for multiple grades. Because of this, the students don't always get the attention they need. Jessinia and the mothers told me that the lack of attention and supplies sometimes means that the kids don't learn necessary cognitive skills, how to read, or how to write. In addition to this, school supplies here are almost as expensive here as they are in the states so most of what they have is donated. They gave me an unending list of materials they need for school. Hopefully I can take this list back to the states and help them get the supplies they need.

Afterward I walked around the community and saw an old woman grab a chicken by the neck and swing it around her head like a lasso until it's neck broke. Then, she watched it die, grabbed it by the wing, and took it inside to prepare it for dinner. I also met a young man, Rafael, who was born with a mental disability. He laughed and clapped his hands a lot, then he looked at me, said "bonita" and held my hand as we walked together until I had to go to the bathroom. The bathroom was outdoors and had a few patterned bricks with holes in them. As I did my business, Rafael popped his head up in front of the open bricks and laughed really loud. I was so startled I nearly fell in the hole.

The last part of the day in La Palma we handed out money to the individuals who receive micro loans. As they were handed their envelopes they had to introduce themselves, state how they are using the money, and make a promise that they will repay the loan. The recipients of the micro loans work in solidarity to ensure all of the loans are repaid on time.

Yet again I am amazed and in awe of the people in Nicaragua. I can't wait to see what is in        store tomorrow.

Here We Go Again

As a child I loved being the boss. "They" say this is a typical characteristic for oldest children and I was not an exception. When my little sister and I were both under the age of ten I would often write up contracts and hold conferences with my sister in my room in order to create a treaty to end our adolescent bickering. I would have her sit on the other side of my desk (a stepping stool) as I read the terms of agreement and we would both sign at the bottom. As you would expect, these treaties never lasted long and there was soon yelling, crying, and two little girls being sent to their rooms.

Throughout the years I have begun to learn how to control my control problem. I can work under stressful conditions, step up to the plate, and do what I need to do. I can also relax and go with the flow. These two attributes don't always get along. It is hard to be flexible in some situations and others cannot be controlled, but I am slowly learning to recognize when to step up and when to let go.

I leave for Nicaragua in a matter of hours. I am going completely alone and will be doing internship work in communities with very few English speakers. The work I am doing there has a general objective, but I will have to figure most of it out as I go. I'm also not positive where I will being staying or where I will be going, and didn't know the dates of my trip until about a week ago. This has, and will continue to take a certain about of flexibility.

Preparing for a trip abroad requires work, especially when you're used to your parents being a support system during this process and they are out of the country. There are so many details that you have to remember and you have to check and recheck your packing list, itinerary, assorted affairs at home, etc. This takes planning and control.

What I am learning from this situation is that a simple signed treaty won't fix all of the problems. There must also be cooperation, compromise, and an open mind (it also helps if you aren't trying to compromise with a stubborn little sister). I hope I can continue to utilize each of these attributes during my trip to make it the best experience for myself and the people I encounter.

Superfreaky

Dear Superfreaks,

Yeah, I'm talking to you. The kids who were musical prodigies at the age of four. The ones who lived in foreign countries and received top-notch education starting before elementary school. The kids who were becoming baby scholars while the rest of us regular people were eating glue and making jewelry out of breakfast foods.

You geniuses who were a shoe-in for all of the young and gifted programs and actually took the entrance exams in beautiful institutions instead of taking them from your dad's friend in the attic so then when you didn't get a high enough score nobody had to know.

You perfect students and model citizens who took above and beyond the necessary courses. Who never skipped a day of school and never tried tobacco, drugs, or alcohol, but told us it was perfectly fine if we did and then we felt like dirt bags.

You young, successful professionals in your early twenties. I have a message for you...

Why do you have to make me feel so inadequate? You're so awesome that I can't even look into your faces without my eyeballs threatening to burn from their sockets. You have so much access to opportunity. When I think about the candidates that will definitely be picked over me for the programs that I want to be a part of and I get scared and sweaty because those candidates are just  better than me....you are those candidates. I want to be those things. I want to be a shoe-in. I want the scholarships and the lack of doubt in my mind that I'll be able to go with adequate funding to the graduate school of my choice. I want to be so smart and talented and unbelievably awesome that I can go anywhere and do anything and it will change the world, no problem. You make it look so easy! You are SO COOL….

But, then I think about how I wouldn't have had tea parties with the Lochness Monster in my back yard if I had had to practice my five musical instruments. When would I have had time to play house with my sister or go to a normal school with nap time? And let me tell you that I now know that play-dough and glue don't taste too great, but cereal jewelry tastes like triumph. And I'm glad I experimented in high school because I got a hard earned lesson about how I want, and don't want to live my life. I got to experience living…maybe for worse at the time, but in the long run it was for the better.

So, as I research grad schools, opportunities to work abroad, as well as grant and fellowship opportunities, I know I won't have an automatic in. I've made mistakes. I haven't been perfect. I haven't always run the straight and narrow, but I have learned and those lessons have made me, me. I have passion and strength that is my own that hasn't been pushed at me my whole life. I found it all by myself. All I have to do now is follow that path and I am certain I'll get where I need to be...it will just be a bit harder.

         Yours Truly, 

          Me

*Artwork by my beautifully talented sister, Carsen Miller.

Toast and Juice

Last summer I spent a lot of time with the homeless individuals in Springfield. My favorite was Toast. The first time I met Toast I was sitting on a park bench on the square downtown with my roommate, Paige. As we sat a young man came over to us. He smiled as he smashed is hands flat against one another, began forming his palms and fingers around an invisible sphere, rolled it around a bit over his head and behind his back, then handed it to me to eat. It was an energy orb. It was meant to give me joy and happiness, and for some reason it did.

Over the following months I spent several nights downtown each week with Toast and other individuals without a place to live. I learned of the life they lived; never knowing where their next meal would come from, hearing about the newest abandoned house for them to seek shelter on rainy nights, listening to stories of their few possessions being stolen, and how rare it was for members of the community to express care and generosity to their brothers on the street. 

While it wasn't uncommon to encounter these men drunk or on drugs (honestly who could blame them) they seemed to keep their chin up more often than I think I would. This was especially true of Toast. At the age of 16 his mother had thrown him out of her house. She was an addict and was convinced that her son was after her stash. Now, at the age of 17, this young man had experienced more than anyone his age should. He had been beaten, abandoned, cast out, arrested for sleeping in parks, robbed, and "lost his face" to drugs, which he claimed he never got back. This kid was fried, hence his street name, Toast. Despite all of this, I never saw Toast without a grin on his face and the deepest love in his heart. 

One day I asked Toast why he was always so happy. He responded, "I'm like a cup of juice. Sometimes I spill, and that's bad. But then I just drink myself and everything is better. Sometimes when others are sad I give them some juice because it will make them better too."

We all spill over, lose confidence, get angry, become sad or depressed, lose focus…but we grow by spending time on our own and learning just from ourselves and what is around us. If we spill too much there is nothing we can do to contribute to individuals or the community around us. It is only when we have filled ourselves up that we have enough to share.

That's a pretty cool lesson to learn from a 17-year-old homeless kid.








*Artwork by my beautifully talented sister, Carsen Miller.