Nicablogua...

Missionary to Mercenary, Idealist to Realist, Loving to Loving Better

2009-05-17T13:05:00.001-05:00

Recently, our good friends Nick and Kim Espinosa came down to visit us. It was truly enjoyable. The stay was abbreviated, but we filled it to the max. See map for details, if you can follow.
We traveled all around and saw beautiful things, but the most enjoyable parts were the conversations and questions.

Being in Nicaragua (or anywhere) for a while, it is easy for everything you see to become commonplace and even completely uninteresting. What we used to think was charming now can be a real nuisance when we're not in the right mindset. When stuck on the highway behind a herd of 50 cattle and 3 oxcarts, an American should be laughing and shaking his head, not pretending they're in America and that the cows are cars and trying to pass on the right shoulder. Why did we come to Nicaragua? Why did we decide to stay? Because of cows in the road, that's why.

As we drove, Nick and Kim were not afraid to ask tough questions. "How do you reconcile this poverty with your lifestyle? How can you drive by this poverty everyday on the way to your nice house and not feel terrible about yourself?" Thanks, Nick. The answer is... there is no answer. Where, in the midst of dirt floors and hurting people, are we called? That, I think, is the more relevant question. America hides poverty a lot better, like across town, so it's much easier to ignore. Life here is raw, and it is what it is.

One of my parents' dear (ex) friends made the comment when Julie and I began working with La Vida Nica that Dane had gone from "missionary to mercenary", once helping the Nicaraguan people, and now taking advantage of them for profit. This comment really hurt, but I realize that it was simply as a result of a lack of knowledge of my character and my intention (not to mention, I'll be happy to show you any bank statements if you think we're making profit...). The truth is, though, people feel this way. I will attempt not to dwell on the fact that this comment was made from a roughly 4,000 square foot house in Commonwealth, having no knowledge of or interest in poverty. I'm not upset. I'm not upset...

Julie and I learned through our time with Manna Project much about poverty. We learned that it is so much more complex than the lack of things. Poverty will never be fixed by giving more things to poor people. Yes, things would be so so so much easier if it could be. True poverty is a state of mind, usually drilled into a people over generations and generations.

We also learned about Nicaraguan-specific poverty. We learned that pity gets people just about nowhere. In Nicaragua, there is a public school system that is available to anyone for free. It may be more difficult to get there, but you can go. Then you can even go to college for free. If you make good grades while in college, the government will actually pay you. There are educational opportunities in Nicaragua, even though they are very different than those in the States. What has been more depressing to me than any scene of a self-pitying beggar in a trash dump is someone who has worked their ass off to make it through school against the odds, they paid their own way in an apartment in Managua to go to college, they made the grades at the top of their class, graduated with a law degree, looked for a job for 6 months, and then returned home to cut lawns with a machete because there is no work. As much as I am afraid that I just sounded like an American Republican, the idea that America was founded on, the idea that if you work hard enough at something you will succeed, simply doesn't apply here.

From there, La Vida Nica was born. This country has been ravaged by its own government and by natural disasters for so long that there is little hope left for the very poor. They can work and work and work and they end up just where they started. The future of this country, as anyone will tell you, is tourism, just like it has been for its neighbors Costa Rica, Belize, etc. Idealists complain that tourism has robbed Costa Rica of its culture, but I say it has robbed Costa Rica of its poverty and it has raised the standard of living of the common Tico to levels that no Latin American country ever anticipated.

The vision of La Vida Nica is the training and development of Nicaraguans in the hospitality and restaurant industry with the goal of promotion to management positions and later being sent to other new developments accross the country to continue the training and development of other locals. Are we going to change the entire country? Maybe. All we know is that we have already hired and trained two maintenance workers, two maids, and a receptionist. We've made a difference in these people's lives, a difference for the better.

Do I cancel my surfing every morning to hand out quarters to poor people who live on the dirt road? No. Should I? No. We're all looking for who we are and how we fit into God's plan here. Mine looks very different than yours. Julie's looks very different than mine.

Thanks Nick and Kim for helping us see Nicaragua all over again through new eyes. It's a beautiful place and we're here for a reason. A damn good one, if you ask me.

Come stay with us everyone. This is a photo of our office.

An interesting year

2009-04-30T13:34:00.008-05:00

If you are now reading this post, then you are a true friend. After a full 14 months without a single post, I would have given up on me. Thanks.

So what has happened since last I blogged? Hmmm, not too much, but with photos:

- Decided against leaving Nicaragua
- Found a job starting a new company here
- Got married on November 22
- Moved into an apartment in Managua
- Learned to surf better
- Moved into a beach house at Gran Pacifica

So there you have it. If you've got any questions, I'd be happy to elaborate.

Our company is called La Vida Nica, and it is a concierge service and rental management company. What, might you ask, experience did I have in this area? None. But now I do. Julie and I both work for this fledgling company, and it's doing well. With the support of some investors here in Nicaragua, we plan to stick with this company as long as it keeps panning out.

We are currently living and working at Gran Pacifica Resort (www.granpacifica.com), just one hour due west of Managua. We rent a nice little house and we love to have visitors. In fact, just this week Nick and Kim Espinosa came down here from Houston to stay for a few days. We had a fantastic time.

We're currently building a website for our company, which you can find at www.lavidanica.com. I know it's just a placeholder now, but it will be very impressive in about a month.

Thanks again for checking in. I hope to be better and more interesting with this blog now that I actually have a life where I spend a little while at a desk every once in a while.

Saludos,
Dane

Quit Complaining

2008-02-17T10:45:00.002-06:00

Julie gets back today, so there will be more blog photos very soon. Relax.

Ever-Changing Gringolandia

2008-02-17T10:06:00.004-06:00

I just got back from church, and it was nice. I go to a church called International Christian Fellowship, and that's really what it is. It's an English-speaking church, which is a welcome break once a week. Today, in an event which is not totally uncommon, there were more visitors at ICF than members.

When you live in a place like Nicaragua, there are constantly short-term mission groups coming in for one week, two week stays. The community is so fluid. I have heard that from many people who have been here for a number of years. Even my stay, which I consider long-term, is only 13 months. After that I will leave and perhaps never live in this community again. I don't think it would be a stretch to say that a Sunday congregation at ICF has never and will never be the same on any other Sunday.

Today there was a choir from Indiana who led worship (a nice break for me), a group of 11 from Ontario, a small group from South Dakota, a set of parents from Iowa, one from Puerto Rico, one from Nigeria, and 4 from North Carolina. I know I forgot some, but you get the idea. Pretty diverse.

Our ultimate frisbee group which plays every Sunday at 2 o'clock is a representation of the fluidity as well. Just since I've been here, we've lost 4 players who used to be with Manna Project, a couple who went to work in D.C. with International Justice Mission, and another family who is moving back to the States as well. Those players have been replaced by study abroad students from Emory, a couple folks from Maryland, a business student from Dort College, and more who I'm forgetting.

How does this affect my friendships here? Unless you want to ride an emotional rollercoaster the whole time you're here, you kind of have to hold on loosely to the relationships that you build. Don't get me wrong, there are going to be many tears when I leave this place, because I have built friendships that I will dearly miss, but if I thought I would be lifelong friends with every Spring Break group we host, I would probably be hurt more than is necessary.

For those of you who know me well, you know that this is environment in which I thrive. I enjoy meeting new people, sweeping them off of their feet, making an impression, and then fading from view. I used to dislike this about myself, and tried to change, but then I pretty much realized that this is how I was made and it can be a beautiful way that I can serve people. I have a handful of very close friendships which I hold very dearly to my heart, but for the most part this is the role that I play in people's lives. That makes this environment perfect. People go home remembering a tall, exuberant, friendly guy who was full of life and who showed them that service can be fun, worthwhile, and not just for girls (usually our girl:guy ratio on trips is about 3:1). Then they begin to live their lives at home again, maybe a spec differently than before, and they never email me or expect me to email them. Perfect!

Of course there are those who come to visit here and are looking for a very meaningful conversation and a life epiphany and a beautiful friendship built in a week. This is Julie's department. I don't think that anyone has ever left a conversation with Julie and not felt a little better about her or himself. When she speaks to people, she makes them feel like they're the only person in the world, and that she isn't just penciling them in between a hundred other things she has to do. The thing is, she does have a hundred other things to do, which is the amazing thing. And one of them is sending you a card after you get home.

From this I conclude two things:
1. I'm the luckiest guy in the world
2. We make a killer team

This post has been more of a rambling journal entry, but I thought some people may enjoy a glimpse into my mind for a moment. Perhaps I was incorrect. But you've already read it all, so too bad. I love you guys. Have a wonderful day.

Here we go again

2008-02-12T09:53:00.000-06:00

Before I begin, I will say that if you were totally grossed out by my previous entry about my proposal to Julie, you can find the completely abridged, completely unromantic, bordering on embarrassed version of the events on Julie's blog, in her usual style, which is linked in the top right corner of this page. Opposites attract, I suppose...

It is now the second week of February, and we have finally begun our new cycle of programs for the year. This is good news for all of you who enjoy reading this blog, because I will actually now have something to write about! Yesterday was our first day, and it was a good one. After some shifting and sorting, here's what my week will now look like (subject to further change, of course):

Teaching Spanish literacy to 2nd and 3rd graders
Teaching English to (playing games with) little kids from ages 6-10
Assisting with a feeding program
Helping 6-14-year-olds appreciate music
Orchestrating micro-finance loans and helping to teach a weekly business class
Playing sports with my Nicaraguan friends
Coaching/Managing the best stinking baseball team in the greater Managua area
Surfing like a madman

Not too shabby, huh? I know it sounds like a lot, but let me assure you... it IS. Please be praying for me and my sanity, and for the stress level around the house and the community to remain low. And if you want to give some more donations, I'm still about a full G-note short of my pledged commitment, so that would be nice too. Email me.

More good news is that Julie got her camera back from the shop, so the pictures should start rolling in again. She recently had a visit from one of her best friends in the States, and so she's posted those pictures on her site, which is also linked on this page. More good things to come.

So yesterday was Literacy and English, today will be feeding program, music, and micro-finance. Big day. I just wanted to give a quick update on what's going on here. Thanks for tuning in.

Until cheese rolls down like waters...

2008-01-09T18:45:00.000-06:00

And mush-ness like a mighty stream.

Julia Marie Mills and I are engaged to be wed. This is an incredible blessing to me. The big event occurred on Christmas Eve, 2007.

Disclaimer: I am about to relay the story of the proposal, so if you would like to wait until you come to Nicaragua to take me to dinner before you hear the story, please cease reading immediately.

To the right, you will see the scene of the crime. As I already mentioned, it was Christmas Eve. The Thorwaldson family had the pleasure of hosting the Mills family for Christmas Eve dinner, and everything went beautifully. Toward the end of the evening, I needed a diversion to get Julie out of the house. I told her that I probably wouldn't make it to the Christmas Eve church service if I didn't get some Starbucks first. It was perfect. While we were at Starbucks, my family was making the necessary preparations for the big event.

It just so happened that in between this certain Starbucks and my church lies Austin Parkway Elementary School, where Julie and I met in 1994. When I pulled into the parking lot of this school, Julie seemed a little surprised, but not certainly not suspicious of what was to come. I have a feeling that she actually expected something completely un-romantic like making out on the swings or something. I was still somehow able to coax her out of the car, and we began to walk.

We were just chatting about how little everything seems now that seemed so big in elementary school, and walking along the wall when it happened. My entire family had been hiding in the back yard of a close-by neighbor, and when Julie and I reached the pre-determined spot, my little brother Dylan plugged in an extension cord that illuminated what you see here. She stopped walking and made some kind of surprised noise. At first she thought we were interrupting someone else, and then she began to ask, "Did you do this?! How did you do that?!" I held her close and walked with her into the gazebo. It was beautiful. In the center of the gazebo was a bottle of champagne, flowers, and a number of candles. When we were in the middle of gazebo, I took my arm from around her shoulders and she began to look around more closely. When she turned around, she saw what she hadn't seen before. Written on the wall behind us, in Christmas lights, about 15 feet tall, was "Marry me Julie." See below.

She saw it, gasped, covered her mouth, and turned back around toward me. When she did, she saw that I was on my knee with a ring in my hand, and I asked her again. She said yes! As soon as she did, we lit all of the candles in the gazebo, and we prayed together. It was the best experience of my life. Then we drank a bunch of the champagne and took a bunch of pictures.

It was such an amazing experience to be surrounded by such supportive family during a time like that. It was also pretty incredible to look back on what a wild history Julie and I have together. I left for Nicaragua only two days after the proposal, where I found that we had no internet nor working phones. For all of those reading this who did not receive a personal phone call about the news, please accept my pathetic, third-world apology.

Now it's back to normal life. Or, I suppose I should say, life as normal as Julie's and mine ever is. After about two and a half weeks of wedding planning in the States, she came back to Nica. It's tough spending that much time away from someone to whom you just proposed a day earlier, you should try it.

So we're back in the land of rice, beans, power outages, surf, and sun. It's such a contrast to spend an extended amount of time in the United States and then to return. I must admit, however, that this time I was somewhat ready. I had forgotten a few things for my return the night before I was due to leave (surprise surprise) and the only place still open to shop was, you guessing it, Walmart. As I wandered through the aisles and aisles of price slashing and cart-bumping and 200-foot ceilings, I must admit that my eyes were big and my head was wobbly and through my wide open mouth I muttered to myself, "I miss Nicaragua."

So that's all for now I suppose. Our programs start up again in the second week of February, so I'm hoping that I can sneak off to Costa Rica and see some cousins during the first week. My next entry will probably be describing the wonderful trip I had while my dad and brother joined me in Nica for New Years, so stay tuned.

Buenash Díash!

2007-12-02T06:58:00.000-06:00

I recently spent a week living in the home of one of the families in our community here. Marlon, an incredible guy, does the gardening and maintenance at the Manna house a few times a week. Spending a week in his house was an honor and a beautiful experience in learning to love better. His wife Arlen (that's right, Marlon and Arlen) and their 2-month-old baby girl Marlín (that's right) spend most of their time at the house, taking care of business. They also have a gorgeous 4-year-old daughter named Ashley who could seriously make a killing in catalog advertisement modeling in the States, along with an 8-year-old deaf son named Jefferson who is no longer allowed to watch Spiderman because he always jumps off the roof afterward. This family's love for each other and for me was amazingly evident throughout the short week I spent with them.

From the time that I arrived to see the entire family of five moved into one bedroom so that I could have the other to myself, I felt their generosity. Luckily I wasn't completely isolated from the family in the house though, because none of the walls quite reach from floor to ceiling, and the curtains for doors weren't exactly soundproof. Nicaraguans sleep HARD. My puny foam ear plugs were no match for the barks from the dogs, the crows from the roosters, the bad dreams of Jefferson, the asthmatic coughs of Ashley, and the usual banter of a two-month old baby. Long nights, but what little sleep I got was multiplied ten times the minute little Ashley would stick her little face in the curtain of my room, start walking toward my bed on her little legs, and then get grabbed from behind by a faceless parental arm and reprimanded (by much more noise than she was making) for almost waking the gringo. Every once in a while she would make it all the way to my bed and the first thing I experience in the morning is a beautiful little girl poking me in the nose and saying, "Buenash díash, Den!!!" The chasing and wrestling match that ensues is an amazing way to start the day, even if it is before 6.

I really wish I could use words better to share the amazing experience of learning about this one Nicaraguan family. A 1980s television showing a dubbed Jean Claude Van Damme movie is not necessarily something that I would have enjoyed before that week, but when the whole family is gathered around eating together and taking turns on my lap (except Marlon and Arlen), it became one of my favorite things in the world. I wish you could hear Jefferson's shrill screams of absolute joy when throwing and catching a frisbee, or that you could read a book next to Marlín, knowing it's time to swing the hammock for her again by when she starts fussing, or that you could taste the incredible chicken that Arlen makes with only a Coleman double burner camping stove, or that you could see Marlon's face as he describes how he overcame a past I could never imagine and gives constant thanks to God for a present that I would never want. In that house, life is hard but life is real, and the love they share is real-er. The most important thing in that house is not Bon Jovi blaring at 6:30am (which is pretty important), but the way that they love each other, and the sacrifices they make for one another. And for me! For me, a complete outsider who, no matter how hard I try, can never really know. But they let me in anyway, and crammed themselves in a room smaller than any dorm room I've ever had to myself in order to do it. After spending that time with them, I see that my heart and my love can be real-er, and I feel blessed that I am in such an environment to practice that.

A lot of real-er love,
Dane

Dia de Accion de Gracias

2007-11-28T20:51:00.000-06:00

I feel like 'Thanksgiving' has a little bit nicer of a ring to it, but I suppose the five-word, ten-syllable phrase will do. Thanksgiving has come and gone, but I've realized this year how much I truly do have to be thankful for. Last Thursday, after two days of cooking (not by me), we hosted over 40 people at the Manna house to stuff ourselves with the most American food anyone had ever seen in Nicaragua. A day of surfing, stuffing, and sleeping. Legit.

An attitude of gratefulness is something that is so difficult in my life. I have never really wanted for anything. I have never felt what it's like to appreciate a meal. My family has been amazing, and we thank God before every dinner we eat together, but to really appreciate a meal because we hadn't had one the day before? Never. I have learned so much living in Nicaragua, even for only these 5 months. So many aspects of life are so much harder for Nicaraguans than for Americans, but when it's a day designated to giving thanks, Nicaraguans beat the pants off of us.

25"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

28"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?"

- Matthew 6:25-30

Julie and I were just talking about this passage, and how foreign it's always been to us. The Bible tells us not to worry about our clothes. I have to give credit to churches and youth groups in America, because they give it their best shot. They relate the passage to fashion magazines, and avoiding superficiality, and their message is heard. It's heard, but when have any of us really worried about our clothes? As in, we don't know how much longer our one set is going to last us? These people do. These people hear this message, and they take it to heart. They know what it's like to not have enough to eat, to not be able to afford to put shoes on their children. These words speak such comfort into the lives of Nicaraguans, comfort that we've never lacked. We try to practice not worrying about our clothes and food, which we should, but it's so easy, because there's no threat of losing it. The effort I spend on fighting my guilty pleasures, agonizing to convince myself to buy only three colors of the same shirt instead of four, could be spent on so many better things. It is now that I begin to envy the Nicaraguan people. I have come here to try to make their lives easier, to make their lives 'better', and I see how much happier and more appreciative they already are than I have ever been.

Anyone who has ever done service or mission work in a "less-privileged" part of the world has experienced this (or they had their eyes closed). Exposure is an incredible thing. Seeing things that I've seen my whole life in a different light is completely invaluable to me. I love you all so much and am so very thankful for your love and support.

Make that 5 days straight

2007-10-13T19:16:00.000-05:00

I'm serious. Unceasing.

Nicaragua is beautiful... most of the time

2007-10-12T16:50:00.000-05:00

Hello all. It's the rainy season here in Nicaragua, and that's certainly not a misnomer. It has been raining in Managua for four days straight now. I realize that most of the time when people say 'four days straight', they really just mean that there has been rain at some point for four days in a row. With that in mind, please allow me to be more specific: There has not been a period of more than 35 minutes without rain in the past 85 hours. This is brand new to me, so I'm having a bit of a hard time with it. Since I've been here, there have been torrential downpours, thunderstorms, and floods, which are fine, but this gnawing, pitiful. persistent rain feels like waking up 14 minutes before your alarm goes off, ALL day. When it floods, we can't drive or walk into the community, and we have to cancel programs. When it rains all day, but not too hard, we still go to everything, we're just soaking wet all day. But let's not focus on negative things. While I'm hiding inside today, I'm going to look back on a couple beautiful times when it hasn't been raining here in Nicaragua.

The first is the beautiful birthday weekend in Granada that I spent with my lovely companion Julie. Birthdays have been hard here, as everyone is away from their families and most of the friends who love them the most. In order to soften the blow, Julie took me to the oldest city in Central America. It was chock full of colonial architecture and beautiful churches and an extremely cool town center. This was the first town that the Spaniards felt was worthy of settling here on the equator, and since then it's had a really neat history including multiple pirate attacks and burnings and re-buildings. That's right, pirate attacks. It's beautiful there, and since shopping around at the market that weekend, I have carried a leather man-purse. Get with the times, people.

Another place I like to mentally revisit when there is a copious amount of rainfall would have to be San Juan del Sur. This was the team's most recent venture, and it was incredible. When there are tourists traveling through Nicaragua, especially surfing tourists, one of the stops is undoubtedly San Juan. I've been hearing different things about it ever since we've been here. Some people say that it's where I should go for good surf, and others say there's no surf there at all. I finally figured out what everyone was talking about. Here's the deal, for anyone who is looking to come anytime soon: San Juan del Sur is a very touristy town, and is somewhat of a bay, so there's no surf (but great fishing and sea turtle tours). However, the best beaches to surf in Nicaragua are all within about 20-30 minutes driving from the town. So there you have it. We stayed in town at a great place with A/C and lukewarm water, which was fantastic. It cost us a pretty penny though, since it's such a tourist town. I think the total was about $16 per night per person. That may not seem like a lot, but keep in mind that I get paid $20 a week. So we spent Friday night checking out the restaurants and international tourist spots, then woke up early to try to find some surf on Saturday. The rest of the group was so wonderful and accommodating of me and let me surf my little heart out from pretty much 9 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon. I didn't hear much complaining though from the thatch-roof ranchon with hammocks and wood-carved chairs everywhere that there wasn't a waiter trying to bring you something for 50 cents. Life is good. On the way out of town, we stopped at a condominium community looking for a restaurant that no longer exists. We did find, however, a beautiful clubhouse that overlooked the entire bay and served killer shish-kabobs and club sandwiches. They let us use the pool and scenery to pose for a cute couple shot. Then it was back to Managua. Come to think of it, the day after we got back was when the rain started. We should have never come home.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my little rain sanctuary daydreaming session. I hope that you all are well. I get pretty lonely here (even though I'm living with 6 other people), so I would love to hear from any and all of who are reading this. The phone here is an internet phone, so it's a local U.S. number. That means it's free to call me from your cell phone, and you seriously haven't? The number is 615-866-5179. My email is dane@mannaproject.org. In case anyone didn't know, they no longer have an excuse. I love you all and miss you like crazy. Christmas isn't too far away, when I'll be coming home to see you. Until then, be good to each other, drop me a line to keep me updated on how you're doing, and try to stay dry.

Paz y amor,
Daney

Beisbol, Singing, and Babies

2007-10-09T17:54:00.000-05:00

Last weekend was a big one. First things first, we hosted a beisbol tourney on Sunday, which was fantastic. We had been looking forward to it for two weeks, and planned to have four teams (including us) play four games. It was going to be a long day. The day turned out to be a lot shorter than we thought. In normal Nicaraguan fashion, only three of the four teams showed, but no one was too disappointed. We would play a round robin with three games of seven innings each. We flipped a coin and it was decided that our team (Los Marineros) would sit out the first game while the other two teams played. It was a long game, which is strange because Nicaraguan kids swing at any pitch that isn't going to hit them. (Seriously, I think I've only seen three walks since being a coach for three months... and that kid was on crutches) So it was a long game and by the time it finished we were more than ready to play.

Killed em. By the fifth inning, it was 11-0 Marineros. The other team wouldn't even take the field in the sixth inning. We didn't want to end it so quickly, but they seriously refused to leave the dugout. We finally conceded that we were done with that massacre and eagerly began to warm up for our second victim. Where were they? Sometime during our first game they had mysteriously disappeared and no one knew what had happened. Except me. They were terrified and they ran away. Pretty simple. Marineros take the day.

The best part of the tourney was not, believe it or not, the merciless slaughter of the other, much inferior, team. It was actually that a kid on our team named Juan Carlos (not to be confused with Juan, or Carlos, or Jose Carlos, or Jose Antonio, or the other Juan Carlos, who are all also on our team. I'm not kidding). He's kind of a goofy kid, and the other guys on the team don't pay much attention to him. It seems like at practices he's always hanging out by himself while the rest of the team is sitting together. He's certainly not the best player, but he's not terrible. He's the kid in little league that you pretty much just chalk up as an out on the line-up and you're okay with it. Anyway, this weekend, during slaughterhouse five, Senor Juan Carlos went three for three at the plate. It was incredible. The first time he got up he smacked a double, which almost never happens here with only wooden bats and pretty slow pitchers. The rest of the team was kind of razzing him a little as he was standing on second. "Oh wow, look at Juan Carlos, he actually got a hit! Don't get picked off now!" I was a little disappointed with the other guys at first that they weren't legitimately happy for their teammate. Second time he gets up to bat, he slams a line drive over the shortstop for a strong single. I look at the rest of the team. Silence. They couldn't believe it. The third time he got up to bat and got his third hit in a row, you better believe the rest of the team was standing up and screaming and clapping for him. It was incredible. I suppose I can't take all the credit for his performance, but I must say that it has been more than once that I have quoted the great University of New Mexico baseball all-star (who also happens to be my grandpa) in saying "Keep your eye on the ball."

It was also a big weekend because I led worship in my new church on Sunday. There's pretty much only one church here that caters to gringos (speaks English) so it was a pretty simple choice. It's called International Christian Fellowship. It's a really neat community, and I have been wanting to get involved, so this was a welcome opportunity. One thing that maybe I should mention is that I have never led worship before. Anywhere, ever. Pish posh. I was busted by an old Manna member during my first week here for bringing a guitar to Nicaragua and ever since then I have been getting calls from my church saying that I signed up to lead worship. Thanks, Daniel, for signing me up without my consent. I'm glad he did, because last Sunday I was finally able to do it, and it was incredible. I had a ton of fun and felt extremely supported by everyone in the church. Next thing I know, I get home and already have an email saying that I will be leading worship twice a month from now on. Yikes. More to come on that.

There was a great party this week at La Chureca for no apparent reason, but there were costumes, music, and marching. Check out Julie's blog for more on that. The link's at the top right of this page.

Also, one of my best friends, Jason Pahules, had a baby extremely recently. Well, I suppose his wife Alyssa had the baby, Jason was probably eating potato chips. Anyway, that has nothing to do with Nicaragua (except that they're coming to visit me), but you can check out their baby blog at http://bigbellyaly.blogspot.com/

All right, I can quit endorsing other blogs now, just wanted to give some shout outs. Love to all, please come visit me.

Feliz Poopleaños

2007-09-16T19:55:00.000-05:00

Within the last week or so, three out of the seven team members here have had birthdays (including myself on the 19th, please send gifts to Managua address) so we've been celebrating quite a bit. Erin's birthday was on the 10th, and Julie's the 11th. Apparently the birthday tradition here is to get up at an ungodly hour to make breakfast for the lucky sap who was born that day and wake them up way earlier than they planned on getting up to give it to them. It's nice, really, but I may prefer a birthday lunch. Anyway, the birthdays have been great. I received a couple phone calls from family, and even a card from my best buddy Jay (which must have required about two weeks foresight to arrive on my birthday, which is incredibly impressive for him). I felt love from many corners of my life, and it made it easier to be growing up so far from my family and friends.

Anyway, let's get to the good stuff. As I'm sure everybody knows by now, bathroom problems are fairly common here in Nicaragua. Unfortunately, my beautiful significant other Julie has definitely had it the worst. She is not bashful about this, which is why I feel it is alright to publish on the worldwide web, but I will certainly spare the details. For her birthday on the 11th, I bought her the following cake to celebrate all the good and the bad about life here in Nicaragua. I hope you like it as much as she did. I can only imagine one of my friends like Tyler Fiveash seeing this picture and loving it, as well as wishing that he had thought to get the cake for Ali.

Monkey Update: It's born, it's a white-face Capuchin monkey, and it's been nursing for a while now. It should be able to come home with us in the next week or so. Let's keep our fingers crossed, since this is still just through a friend of a friend of a friend. I'm not discrediting the friend of a friend system, because that's how just about everything works in Nicaragua, but I just really want this monkey. Now for all of you mothers/people who know anything about animals out there, I have spoken with our local veterinarian and he says that they do monkey vaccinations so we should be disease-free in no time. Also, the local zoo says that they'll take the monkey if s/he proves to be too much of a handful. Any other concerns? Bring em on. I've been researching the heck out of this thing, probably while I should have been blogging or working, but c'est la vie.

I have much more to say about this week, but unfortunately I have a prior engagement. It seems that Julie is kidnapping me to go on a birthday trip to Granada, the oldest city in Central America, for the day and see the beautiful sights of colonial settlement. Life is hard, but I suppose somebody's got to live it.

what a week...

2007-08-30T13:54:00.000-05:00

Well, guys, our new Manna team has officially made it through our first full matriculation period of classes. We learned a lot this month, and will likely make a lot of changes for the next. Anyway, I feel as though we´re progressing, and we´re making big steps toward the community goals we´ve set for the year. Good things.

This week has been nutso. I have wanted to update so many time this week, but we haven´t had internet since last Friday. Still don´t. Our power has been out like whoa lately as well. Yesterday it was out for 12 hours. I´m beginning to appreciate every hour we have it, so maybe that´s a good thing. I´m here at an internet cafe right now, so this entry will have to be a whirlwind. I wlil crroetc tyspos laetr.

- I made friends...WITH A MONKEY. I went to the volcanic island of Ometepe last weekend, which is apparently home of a crapton of different kinds of primate friends. They like Cremas, which is the Nicaraguan cardboard equivalent of Oreos. Awesome. I have been leading a brigade within the house to buy a monkey for our empty chicken coop. After this weekend, I have convinced 4 our of the 7 on the team. I even found one of our friend´s friends in the community who has a pregnant monkey and is willing to sell us the baby for 300 córdobas (about 15 bucks). More updates to come.

- I bribed my first public official. I´m not proud of it, but apparently that´s just how things work down here. If you´re a gringo, you get pulled over by the police, even when you´ve done nothing wrong. They take your license away. You ask if there´s anything else you can do, while holding a little money in your lap. They hand you an envelope and tell you not to let their cop buddies see the money, then he gives you your license back. Corrupt, I know. My moral compass is still shifty on this issue, so any feedback would be very helpful. It´s tough though when you´re choosing between having to take time to go to the courthouse (an hour away) to pay a 200 córdaba fine for something you didn´t do, OR give the guy a dollar fifty and a pack of Cremas and be on your way. Yes, monkeys and policemen BOTH like Cremas.

- When we got pulled over, we were on our way to our feeding program in La Chureca. It´s a child sponsorship program, and once a month we give the familes enough oatmeal, milk, and vitamins to last until the next month. It´s difficult however, because when times are as tough as they are in La Chureca, it´s very tempting for the parents to sell the food or eat it themselves instead of giving it to their malnourished child. It´s difficult to look at a mother and tell her that this food is only for her 3-year-old son, not for his 5-year-old sister who most likely is malnourished as well. In order to try to encourage this, we have incentives for the children to gain weight. If they´ve gained a pound in the month, they´re rewarded with a bag of mangos. They can sell or eat or do whatever they want with these. It´s actually a very sought-after prize. The program was difficult, as La Chureca always is, but it´s very rewarding. If you´re interested in sponsoring a child (we could always use help) there is a lot of information on the Manna website here: http://www.mannaproject.org/ect.org/. I believe it´s 18 dollars a month. Above are two of the cuties that are being helped through Manna.

- In other news, we had our first member of the team get Dengue fever. It´s been about a week of her being achey and exhausted all the time, so we took her to get blood work this morning. Apparently Dengue is not quite as rare or scary as it seems in the States. The first time you get it, it usually last about a week and a half or two weeks. The main symptoms are achey joints, exhaustion, and the telltale rash. Please keep Marcela in your prayers this week.

- Finally, I got a really cool wound during baseball practice on Friday sliding into third base. I´ve been keeping it covered to avoid infection, and it´s scabbing up nicely. It stings, though, and spending the entire weekend swinging in a hammock and reading was hardly any consolation. Just kidding. Anyway, that also reminds me of some baseball vocabulary. As you know, I´m coaching a team here, and learning the vocab has been pretty hilarious. You pretty much just say the English word with a Spanish accent. For instance, "homerun" is "jonrón" and "strike" is "estraik". Doesn´t always apply, however, because I tried to say "Hand me that glove" by pronouncing it "glova" and the kids didn´t know what I was talking about. Pretty funny, I think.

I hope you´re all well, and I look forward to updating again soon. Thanks so much for reading. Much love, and come visit.

Dryer Rant

2007-08-22T11:38:00.000-05:00

Not having a clothes dryer sucks. I can stomach the perpetual diarrhea and no air conditioning and no electricity for six hours a day and muchisimo rice and beans and not being able to communicate and sweating profusely through all of my clothes, but no dryer? Next time you do a load of laundry, I want you to not use the dryer.... Exactly. What do you do? Do you come up with some ridiculous form of clotheslines outside made of barbed wire? Do you have a permanent crease in all of your clothes where they hang on the line? What if it rains (every single day seven times a day)? I came with a set of twin bed sheets as soft as a baby's hindparts (you know the kind, feels like a 30-year-old t-shirt...awesome), washed them once, hung them out to dry, and now they feel like pumice stone. No "Air Fluff" setting in Nicaragua. And I smell like mildew all day. Why don't you just sit there at your nice American computer in your air-conditioned house and feel sorry for me. I bet your dryer's running right now, isn't it? ISN'T IT?! Disgusting...

In other news, I went to the mountains in the north this weekend and it was incredible. Cool, dry air. Also, I'm going surfing tomorrow morning and on a volcano/waterfall hike on Saturday. I think I'm done complaining. Cheers.

Adios = "Go To God"...cool

2007-08-14T18:48:00.000-05:00

Hola todos. I'm going to be better about keeping up with this blog once things settle down around here, so please continue to tune in for updates. Enough with the apologies.

This is a crazy week of goodbyes and hellos and learning and laughing at myself. The program directors from last year are finally heading back to the states and officially putting these programs into our hands. Yikes. It has been immeasurably helpful having the old PDs here to teach us about the programs and to ease us through the transition, but really the greatest part of having them around has been seeing the potential for relationships that we have. Watching the Nicaraguan people throw parties and give gifts and cry all because their friends from Manna are leaving is powerful. It also gets me pumped up. They told us that when they got here last year their Spanish was much worse than ours is now, the people were much less receptive than they've been with us, and even still they've become lifelong friends. That's what I want too. I've been blessed with the company of a couple lifelong friends already built into the deal moving down here with me, but becoming a real part of this community is something that is very important to me. It's encouraging to see this from the old program directors.

The programs with which we will be working this year are slowly becoming finalized (as final as anything is in Nicaragua). It looks as though I will be teaching children's programs in music and media, as well as beginning the first Manna-sponsored youth English program with my beautiful lady friend Julie. In addition to working with children, I will be coaching a baseball team made up of men from ages 14 to 20, helping out with the newly established microfinance program consisting of three entrepreneurial women in the community, and spending time visiting families and working in the clinic of La Chureca about which you read last time. Life is good.

I tackled my first Nicaraguan musical performance today. I sang and played 'Landslide' on the guitar. I think it earned me some serious street-cred with the kids. That may just be what I think, though.

In other news, I stayed at a place called Laguna de Apoyo a couple weeks ago. It's a volcanic crater lake about 6 kilometers across with water so rich with minerals it feels like silk on your skin. We stayed in a luxury resort with people from all over the world. Ten dollars per night. You heard me right. I'll be here all year, come visit anytime.

The Nitty Gritty

2007-08-03T15:32:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I made my first trip to La Chureca. In espanol, that means, literally, 'The Dump'. And that's what it is. The Managua City Dump is located about 20 minutes from where I live, and it's home to over 1500 Nicaraguans.

As you can see from this picture, people build their homes out of whatever they can find, and the closer they live to the mountains of garbage, the better. Trash trucks come almost every day to dump what they've collected, and that's the beginning of the work day for the people of La Chureca. They spend their day sorting through whatever was dropped off that day, searching for recyclables. They then bring their grocery sacks home and try to fill a larger sack. For every large sack that they fill (about 98 cubic feet, i.e. HUGE), they can sell it for about 15 to 20 American dollars. This is their life. From this life grows greater problems. The first is pretty obvious: health issues. When children grow up literally surrounded by garbage for their entire lives, they're much more at risk for common (and some not-so-common) diseases. There is also a very large prostitution problem throughout La Chureca. Some families offer their daughters to the garbage men as an incentive for them to dump the trash close to their house so they can have first pick that day. It's impossible to go to this place and not be moved.

I was moved. As I climbed one of the quite literal mountains of trash, I was disgusted by the conditions, then was in disbelief that anyone could live there, then overwhelmed by a sadness I've known only a few times in my life, then overcome by an anger at how this could possibly be part of any God's plan for humanity, then taken by a helplessness that I could dedicate my entire life to helping these people and still hardly make a dent in any of the world's suffering, then felt desperate to become a part of this community and to know the people. I found myself praying right then for just a friend, because if I could help only one person, then I had made a difference. As I wrestled with the incredible spectrum of emotions I had just experienced and the tears that came with it, I climbed down the mountain and began looking for the rest of the Manna team.

As I walked toward the school where the rest of the team was visiting children, I saw a little boy come out of his sheet metal house about 20 yards in front of me and begin walking in my direction. I saw him and my heart began to break. He wasn't wearing anything except a speedo and a pair of sandals. I waved to him and forced a smile. He kept walking toward me. I said hello. He didn't say a word, but kept walking. He walked silently right up to me and embraced my legs. It was a different kind of hug than I've been receiving here thus far. He wasn't tugging or trying to climb up on my shoulders or asking me for my sunglasses, he just hugged me. I fell to my knees and he continued to hold me, not saying a word and not moving. I can't say what he was thinking as he held a 6-foot-4 blond gringo who was shaking with every sob, but he just held me. Through my tears I asked him if he was happy, and he said, "Of course." I asked him if he went to school and he said he wasn't old enough, but when he got old enough he would. He said he liked math. I asked God for someone who I could help, and this is what I received. Comfort from a child. I didn't know that God was a dirty 5-year-old boy in a speedo named Juan, but yesterday He was.

I live in Nicaragua.

2007-07-29T19:48:00.000-05:00

I've been a resident of Nicaragua for nine days now. After nine days, I'm already overwhelmed and in love and exhausted and in awe and intimidated and, most of all, excited.

I arrived on Friday, July 20, and spent my first night getting to know the other six team members outside of Barrio de la Luz, the neighborhood where the rest of the team had been staying with host families for two weeks. On Saturday we took a two-hour bus ride to a nearby beach called Pochomil and wasted the afternoon wrapped in hammocks and Tona, a local Nicaraguan beer. It was a fantastic day trip, and made the full, sweaty, standing-up-the-whole-time, now three-hour bus ride home breeze by.

After spending only two short nights with a host family in Barrio de la Luz, it was time to move into the Manna house. Since Nicaraguan streets don't have names, I'll tell you what I tell the moto-taxis: "It's at kilometer thirteen, near that big round thing, but if you pass the big square thing you've gone too far." En espanol, of course.

My Spanish is crawling along, actually, enough to get by. I have already learned so much just in the short time I've been here. There is a TON more to learn, especially because I've been told that Nicaraguan kids will respect gringos based on: A) Size (I think I got that covered), and B) Command of the language. We'll get there.

On Sunday, after we moved into the Manna house, I quickly learned that there would be an ultimate frisbee game at two o'clock that afternoon. I went. It was very fun. I had to limit myself quite a bit because of my back, which was very difficult, especially when I'm trying to impress a bunch of new people with my frisbee skills. I swallowed my pride however, and didn't sprint or jump for high discs or anything like that. Needless to say, I didn't impress many folks, but I plan on getting the 'Most Improved Award' in a few months after I'm all healed up. Anyway, the game is every Sunday at two with about twenty other gringos who are down in Nica for various (mostly humanitarian) reasons.

One thing that has so pleasantly surprised me since I've been here has been the community of fellow gringos. Before coming here, I pictured the Manna house as a fairly isolated island of white people serving the Nica people. I have come to find out that in fact there is an extremely strong community of people here with like minds, and it's nice to hang out with new friends and speak English for a little while. It's also nice to not have to try to explain why Americans act like Americans. It's nice to rest in American quirkiness and eccentricities and know that I'm understood.

I know that this is a lot for one post, and in the future I'll try to consolidate information, but this week has been rather crazy. We've spent the week attending every program that Manna Project runs, to see which ones we're interested in taking over. More to come on that. For now, just know that I can't flush dirty toilet paper down the toilet, that gallo pinto is a dish that my bowels and I will need to come to love, and that I'm a little ticked at my Grandpa Verkler for giving me these genes that make me sweat like a madman in the Nica heat. This place is great. Over and out.

One ticket to Nicaragua... Yes, wheelchair accessible, please.

2007-06-08T15:12:00.000-05:00

Seeing as how life is something that always seems to throw unexpected wrenches into our best-laid plans, I figured that today was a good time to write my first blog entry in this Nica-blog-ua series.

Wednesday, June 6, I looked at Dr. Stanley Jones and asked, "So...will I be able to fly to Nicaragua a month from today?" He, in turn, laughed at my face. Yikes.

I have two herniated discs in my spine, and apparently a lower back which I unknowingly injured sometime in my youth and is now finally fed up. See that little blue squirt smashing the poor little white nerve vine? Apparently that explains the shooting pains down my left leg. Anyway, the only way to heal this thing is to have a minor surgery that will shave the herniations off of my discs and maybe trim up some of my overgrown joints. Pretty easy, mostly microscopic, 45 minute procedure. Not too worried. I am, however, a bit anxious about the changes with MPI.

It turns out that laughing at my question was a bit dramatic of ol' Doc Jones. He is only demanding 6 weeks of rehabilitation to recover after the surgery before I'm cleared to leave the country. Stanley was very accommodating of my circumstances and even moved some folks around so that I could have the surgery as soon as this Tuesday, the 12th. Which means that 6 weeks after that will have me arriving in Managua only a few weeks after the expected arrival date of July 6th. Not too bad.

So, naturally, my girlfriend Julie will be attending to my every need during rehabilitation and has also moved her flight to the later date..... If anyone just read and believed that, they clearly do not know my girlfriend Julie. She'll still be chunkin the duece and heading down on the 6th. Hopefully she'll fill me in on all of the icebreakers and team-building exercises that I miss. This is the first time in my life that I am sincerely sad to be missing icebreakers and team-building exercises.

To anyone who has stumbled upon this blog entry and been a little put off because I seem to be complaining, I urge you to please stay tuned in, because I'm usually a quite pleasant person, honest. Also, for your information, back pain results in lack of sleep (crankiness), increased irritability (crankiness), lack of physical activity (crankiness), and frequent urination (crankiness). Maybe you didn't need all of that information, but the good news is that I will be cured of all of those in a few short weeks!! Hooray!!!

Seriously, though, I am very excited to see what God has in store for this change in my life. I know that those people who are closest to me (family, friends, Julie) are also excited to have me back to my healthy self because that means I'll quit yelling at them for blinking the wrong way or sneezing or something like that. Maybe I'll be able to raise some more funds throughout July. Do I smell a pity campaign? Maybe I'll catch another wedding or two here in the states before I go. Maybe all of the hardest work in Nicaragua will be done in the first couple weeks and I'll get out of it. Who knows? I do know that I am believing more and more that I have a great God who cares for me, even when I'm a poop.

I feel so blessed to have you friends here to support me, and to love me when I'm a poop, also. I have been blessed by you, and can't wait to bless others through that. From a wheelchair? I hope not.