Wednesday, January 26, 2011
running, running
The pitter-patter of my trail runners on the dirt road. The easy morning air. The engagement of muscles with every stride and step, stride and step. The bright, gentle sun over teh fields and the people coming and going with water, tortilla dough, and other errands. Jewelle supporting me with her simple presence, whether she knows it or not. This morning's thirty minute run was infinitely more enjoyable than that of a few days ago. Not because it was any shorter, or the terrain was easier, or I was in better shape for it. Rather, because of a different mindset. This time, I didn't give in to the anxiousness when nearing the close, or the out of practice tire. This time, I finally accomplished what I've been hoping to: I'm beginning to run int he moment--that is, to love every moment of the run and every aspect of every moment. Here's to future runs!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
floating the canyon
The canyon's rocks rise up into the sunshine. Happy green plants spring from their contours, waiting for the rainy season. Clouds pass int he sliver of bright blue sky above as I float on my back up the cool river that long ago and ever since has shaped the seats and pockets that we climb on and jump from. Endless adventure lies past every curve, but we only make it so far. Still, this is incredible: swimming and jumping and laughing like children, eyes open to every detail. I wish I could float eternally here, watching the sky change and the spiders pass. From June to October, they say, the water churns and reels far above where we swim now, and people ride the rapids in rafts and PFDs, but I am content here on my back, here in the Rio Coco, here in the canyon in Somoto, Nicaragua.
Monday, January 17, 2011
hello, sabana grande
Here, chickens roam freely and feisty dogs are guards. Young women carry water from the well on their heads, and boys bike awkwardly with the buckets on their handle bars. Here, coffee is made, tortillas are fried, and breakfast is cooked on an adobe stove over fire. No one eats together. Is this normal? I hope they warm up to me. Here, radios mumble from kitchens, and silence is hard to come by. Here, the water is cold from the bucket and it's hard to get my hair clean. Here, young men rap on the stands as kids play futbol with the gringos. The mountains are beautiful, and the full moon is out as we walk home in the dark.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Narrative
Sunday, January 9.
Today we met at the school at 9:30 and got in the truck for the beach. I suppose I expected it to be really crowded, but it was only moderately occupied. We spent the day soaking up the hot, hot sun, enjoying the perfect water, reading and sleeping. Some of the girls surfed, and we watched experts on the waves right in front of us. A lot of the group got various fish dishes at a hotel restaurant on the shore and Carrisa and I found fried plantains--a shared favorite--at a cabaña kitchen where presumed locals hung about in hammocks and ate around small tables in the sand.
Monday, January 10.
After lunch, we got tours of Leon´s cathedral--the biggest in Latin America. It´s a huge, grand building with all sorts of stonework, paintings, and portrayals of Jesus, but the best part was out on the roof. We sat on the first level for a bit while the other group finished up and then we climbed up to the top level where we sat for a while. From there, we could see all around Leon to the chain of stunning volcanoes surrounding this hot valley. There´s no better way to see a city than from above it, and the wind gave perfect relief from the heat as we absorbed this bird´s eye view.
Today we met at the school at 9:30 and got in the truck for the beach. I suppose I expected it to be really crowded, but it was only moderately occupied. We spent the day soaking up the hot, hot sun, enjoying the perfect water, reading and sleeping. Some of the girls surfed, and we watched experts on the waves right in front of us. A lot of the group got various fish dishes at a hotel restaurant on the shore and Carrisa and I found fried plantains--a shared favorite--at a cabaña kitchen where presumed locals hung about in hammocks and ate around small tables in the sand.
Monday, January 10.
After lunch, we got tours of Leon´s cathedral--the biggest in Latin America. It´s a huge, grand building with all sorts of stonework, paintings, and portrayals of Jesus, but the best part was out on the roof. We sat on the first level for a bit while the other group finished up and then we climbed up to the top level where we sat for a while. From there, we could see all around Leon to the chain of stunning volcanoes surrounding this hot valley. There´s no better way to see a city than from above it, and the wind gave perfect relief from the heat as we absorbed this bird´s eye view.
an attempt at poetry
Stand up, stand up
It´s better this way
Stand up on the edge
as the truck bed sways.
Put your arms out
and duck for the trees
Watch the sun set
in the cool driving breeze.
When we get into town,
wave at the cars
The lights of this city
can´t block out the stars.
It´s better this way
Stand up on the edge
as the truck bed sways.
Put your arms out
and duck for the trees
Watch the sun set
in the cool driving breeze.
When we get into town,
wave at the cars
The lights of this city
can´t block out the stars.
Narrative
Tuesday, January 4.
I think I finally believe I´m here. I thought I´d believe it once I boarded the plane from Miami, but no. Then I figured I´d believe it once I landed in Managua, but no, not in the airport. It was much more believable in the hotel we stayed in last night, the walls of which were painted with funny characters, scenes, street signs, and phrases. But even at the university, where Susan of Grupo Fenix oriented us about the organization, and where we heard other presentations, it hadn´t completely sunk in. But here in colonial, tile-rooved Grenada, it has finally hit me: I am in Nicaragua, continuing this amazing life of adventure and learning.
In spite of minor reservations about a group with so many girls (10:1), I can´t imagine a better group of people, and I love them all already.
Wednesday, January 5.
Rode up el Volcan Mombacho this morning, through coffee farms and cloud forest. Hiked around on top with a tour guide, saw steam holes (fumares) and beautiful views of the Lake of Nicaragua and its islands. Taught Jorge, our Grenadan tour guide and a student of architecture at the university in Managua, ninja and other games before leaving.
Had a great first meeting and later walked down toward the lake. Told it was dangerous at night, we stopped on the steps of a stone church instead. I continued an amazing conversation with Myra about farming, books, travel. Some played soccer. Then we did eight-minute abs and yoga. It was wonderful.
Thursday, January 6.
After breakfast, drove to Managua, sad to be leaving Grendada so soon. Relaxed while errands were run, said goodbye to Susan, and rode two or so hours with Lindsay--Grupo Fenix´s program coordinator or so--to Leon, Nicaragua´s once-capital and "rival" of Grenada. Got our host families´names at the Dariana Spanish school and dispered to our homestays for lunch. Carla and I met Jonathan-11, Franco-1, and our host parents. Got lost finding the school for our embarrassingly grammatical placement tests in the afternoon. Then met, did abs and yoga outside of a curch nearby. Walked through the market square with Jewelle, Lydia, and Claire on our way back home for dinner. Rode with the family to the cinema to see Los Viajes de Gulliver--funny.
Friday, January 7.
After lunch, our teachers took us on walking tours of the city in smaller groups. We saw an art gallery, churches, and murals. When our tour was over, Lindsday and Neal--one of our two professors--sat with us some steps. We tried some rice drinks served in gourds. Cacao was by far the best. We then had great conversations in the square as the market buzzed all around us.
Saturday, January 8.
Today´s afternoon activity: volcano surfing. Okay, it was actually more like volcano sledding, as everyone but Iliana sat on the wooden boards instead of standing. We drove out in a huge two bench truck, debating which slope we´d descend once the volcanoes came into view. I rode most of the way standing behind the cab with the wind in my hair, rushing past people and palms.
The slide down alone wouldn´t have been worth the $24, but with everything else included, it was amazing. The dry, black rocks, the pungent yellow sulfur, burning hot with its white, billowing crater steam, watching everyone race down with clouds of dust trailing behind them, and the huge round sun of stunning orange-red bands sinking slowly behind the horizon over the pacific waters.
I think I finally believe I´m here. I thought I´d believe it once I boarded the plane from Miami, but no. Then I figured I´d believe it once I landed in Managua, but no, not in the airport. It was much more believable in the hotel we stayed in last night, the walls of which were painted with funny characters, scenes, street signs, and phrases. But even at the university, where Susan of Grupo Fenix oriented us about the organization, and where we heard other presentations, it hadn´t completely sunk in. But here in colonial, tile-rooved Grenada, it has finally hit me: I am in Nicaragua, continuing this amazing life of adventure and learning.
In spite of minor reservations about a group with so many girls (10:1), I can´t imagine a better group of people, and I love them all already.
Wednesday, January 5.
Rode up el Volcan Mombacho this morning, through coffee farms and cloud forest. Hiked around on top with a tour guide, saw steam holes (fumares) and beautiful views of the Lake of Nicaragua and its islands. Taught Jorge, our Grenadan tour guide and a student of architecture at the university in Managua, ninja and other games before leaving.
Had a great first meeting and later walked down toward the lake. Told it was dangerous at night, we stopped on the steps of a stone church instead. I continued an amazing conversation with Myra about farming, books, travel. Some played soccer. Then we did eight-minute abs and yoga. It was wonderful.
Thursday, January 6.
After breakfast, drove to Managua, sad to be leaving Grendada so soon. Relaxed while errands were run, said goodbye to Susan, and rode two or so hours with Lindsay--Grupo Fenix´s program coordinator or so--to Leon, Nicaragua´s once-capital and "rival" of Grenada. Got our host families´names at the Dariana Spanish school and dispered to our homestays for lunch. Carla and I met Jonathan-11, Franco-1, and our host parents. Got lost finding the school for our embarrassingly grammatical placement tests in the afternoon. Then met, did abs and yoga outside of a curch nearby. Walked through the market square with Jewelle, Lydia, and Claire on our way back home for dinner. Rode with the family to the cinema to see Los Viajes de Gulliver--funny.
Friday, January 7.
After lunch, our teachers took us on walking tours of the city in smaller groups. We saw an art gallery, churches, and murals. When our tour was over, Lindsday and Neal--one of our two professors--sat with us some steps. We tried some rice drinks served in gourds. Cacao was by far the best. We then had great conversations in the square as the market buzzed all around us.
Saturday, January 8.
Today´s afternoon activity: volcano surfing. Okay, it was actually more like volcano sledding, as everyone but Iliana sat on the wooden boards instead of standing. We drove out in a huge two bench truck, debating which slope we´d descend once the volcanoes came into view. I rode most of the way standing behind the cab with the wind in my hair, rushing past people and palms.
The slide down alone wouldn´t have been worth the $24, but with everything else included, it was amazing. The dry, black rocks, the pungent yellow sulfur, burning hot with its white, billowing crater steam, watching everyone race down with clouds of dust trailing behind them, and the huge round sun of stunning orange-red bands sinking slowly behind the horizon over the pacific waters.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
on war and peace and rivers
I often think about war and how I hate it and wish it to end, but recently I've been thinking about the peace which I hope to see replace it. Where is that peace? What actually embodies it? It's harder to articulate than one might think. The first thing that comes to mind is a river. But is a river peaceful? It may be equal parts eternally beautiful and relentlessly powerful, but peaceful? I think not. I love a river--even a raging river, even one that fills me with just as much fear as awe. But I cannot say that a river embodies peace. And so I must think: couldn't the human species be equal parts beautiful and ugly, compassionate and hateful, innocent and horrifying? Isn't it, in some way, like my dear river? But war is never beautiful; war, I do not love. A river doesn't hate or discriminate. It just is. So I'll search for another metaphor. All of the things I think of--the mountains, a tree, the ocean, the stars-have peace insofar as they simply are. I suppose humans should learn to simply be in the world and with the world.
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