Bienvenidos!

Bienvenidos a Nicaragua! Today is day two of homestays and I finally feel like I am in Nicaragua. My community is Masatepe, which is actually a municipio in the district of Masaya. We’re about an hour south of Managua, though my host dad claims it only took that long because we drove slowly. My family is incredibly friendly, with a mom, dad, 12 year-old sister, 10 year-old brother and a 3 year-old sister. They live in a really modern home and I have my own room and bathroom, which is actually Rodrigo’s room, judging from the action figures and Spiderman stickers all over the walls and bathroom. My family seems pretty well off as Rodrigo Javier works in Managua for some kind of telephone-service company. He has what looks like a Blackberry from afar which apparently has internet, though I haven’t asked to use it yet. During the week we have Spanish class six hours a day in one of the trainees houses in our community, and yesterday my teacher and I walked 14 cuadras (blocks) to the house for class. Unfortunately I am making this trek 4 times a day, since we break for an hour to have lunch at 12 at home. I may resort to Jenny’s obasan ways and use my umbrella to hide from the unruly sun.
Nicaraguan Spanish that they speak here is wayyyy faster and more complicated than what I’m used to hearing. My dad has figured that out and now after he’s said a bunch of things he asks, “Me entiende? And my answer is almost always no. In Nicaragua they tend to drop the s selectively, por ejemplo adios turns into adio and nos vemos sounds like no vemos...I continually feel like my ears are bombarded with so many sounds that my mind cannot recognize. An exciting discovery that I made however is that kids learn how to roll their Rs in school with different sayings. Hopefully I’ll pick that up before I leave.
Some interesting things that I’ve noticed is that the kids in my family are incredibly well-behaved and helpful. They clear their plates, help clean the house, carry bags at the market, get things for their parents, and lock all the doors/windows whenever we leave the house. That was something different too. Whenever the entire family goes out, they close and lock all of the windows and doors. They have a huge German Shepard and Pitt Bull that live within the house gates. They even tell me to leave my laptop in the main house instead of my room because it is more secure. It’s a stark contrast to my Costa Rican homestay where Michael would take a saw to unlock the door to the main house. I guess it is good since Peace Corps is highly concerned for our safety. They have warned all of the families not to let us drink the water and for week one of homestays we’re not allowed to go anywhere alone. We are not even allowed to pet the dogs in homes or on the streets for fear of getting bitten. When my room didn’t have nails for my mosquito net and when Ernie came by he had my dad drill holes in the concrete ceiling, which was quite embarrassing to have him go through all of the trouble actually.
During the orientation retreat in Managua everyone warned us against the roosters that crow at all hours of the night. I heard the huge dogs barking outside instead. This morning I woke up to old American music blasting from a boom box outside of my window. My mom is planning to use this method to wake me up at 7 am every morning. I really just have to take this one day at a time.
After a breakfast of Nicatamales (at least I think that’s what they were), a tamale-like food that they eat on Sunday mornings, everyone showered and went to the Masaya market. They told me there is one that is cleaner and nicer for the tourists, and then there was the one for locals. The local one is far dirtier, more crowded and apparently cheaper for the same things. We walked around the crowded market, avoiding puddles of mud and hitting people with things on their heads. It reminded me of our traditional markets in Taiwan, except it was more like a flea market because it was enormous and sold everything. We had lunch at my abuelita’s, which is un campo outside of Masatepe. They have all sorts of fruit trees that my little brother was climbing to pick oranges and star fruits. The stove in the kitchen is actually a flaming log to heat the pots. When we got home we washed all of the fruits and vegetables from the market with soap before putting them away in the refrigerator. Strange, but I guess cleaning things well is a bigger issue here.

(Written on Sunday September 8)