This title derives from what I’m doing at this present moment as I write this blog on my computer that is worlds away from wireless internet. I’m watching TV with my host family like every night: telenovelas, which translates into soap-operas. But these are like the ones we have in the US where the characters of Hope and Brady from Days of Our Lives never (including their faces that are hard as rocks from botox) change, believe me I started watching that as a newborn. So unlike some soap-opera’s in the US that stay running for twenty or more years the ones here are written for a much shorter period of time, around 4-6 months. They come in “chapters” and tonight (yes tonight) is the last chapter of Madre Luna. And here is my last “chapter” of Nicaragua.
A lot has happened since you’ve last read I’m sure. I’ve dined at the fine TGI Fridays with the press secretary of President Daniel Ortega, Dr. Paul we call him. I’ve entertained my mom and aunt for a week. I’ve pulled a few all nighters or something close to that. I’ve tried to work. I’ve sent a lot of text messages…
The story I really want to tell you and write it down for future use is an experience I had just last week. I get to work at 9am like always and my supervisor is not there so I sit and wait. I’m not waiting one minute and the boss of the environmental department comes in and says, “Jackie you want to do something?” Of course I quickly agree and next thing I know I’m in a truck with another man who works in the office with me. We go to an elementary school called Enrique Schmitt and round up about 30 ten year olds. We only had the one truck which had a front and back seat as well as the empty bed in the back. In the front seat with me were four girls. In the backseat were easily ten if not more girls. The back of the truck was overflowing with the rest of them. I still have no idea what we are doing but the truck takes off and keep a pretty slow pace as to not loose any kids. We ended up driving to the highway at the entrance of Ciudad Sandino. Now this is a major four lane highway that has a thin median separating the two lanes from the other two lanes. The kids feel out of the truck quite literally while unloading and ran across the highway while truck drivers slammed on their breaks. All down the median strip someone had dug holes about four feet apart for about a fourth of a mile. The kids came to plant trees that were dumped at different intervals along the median. The trees are baby trees that are planted in a black plastic bag for with soil. The kids ripped off the bad filled the hole with the little tree and in some cases filled the hole with extra dirt. The kids were being kids, going crazy and running up and down the median in some cases stepping all over the newly planted trees. Another fault to this project was the black plastic bags the trees came in every single one was left next to the newly planted tree not one kid thought of picking it up. A man who works with me and I started picking the bags up. I thought: Well, we can’t teach the kids how to pick up trash but at least someone is doing it. So we put all the little plastic black bags into a larger clear bad to condense the trash. All good so far…wrong. Next thing I know this man hurls the bag of bags over the two lane highway into a bush. Time literally stopped as I watched this bag fly over my head and the highway into this bush. My jaw dropped, I put the most quizzical look on my face and I noticed that the main boss of the environmental department was also watching. I didn’t say anything I just turned around in disgust, hoping someone noticed my silent reaction. I kept picking up the black plastic bags in another type of silent protest.
I think this story is a good example of how people here really only have their jobs because they get a pay check. I talked to my project coordinator about it and she agrees that is usually the case but assured me my supervisor (who wasn’t at the tree planting site) is very different. I agree with her. I’ve been with my supervisor for eight weeks and she always looks for a trashcan to throw her trash into even though I must admit it’s very inconvenient, always. In summary if I can summarize a whole country’s environmental condition and problem is that of trash pure and simple. It is a part of the culture, no one is taught to use a trashcan. It is a part of the culture that needs to change but saying and doing are two separate things. This will take decades to change.
As for the infamous absorption tanks…the holes have been dug by a majority of the beneficiaries but we have been sitting and waiting for the hormigon (red sand filter) for three, count them, three weeks. I literally heard “tomorrow” “tomorrow” for three weeks. Maybe I should have been more forceful, but that’s easier said then done when you are also trying to build a repertoire with the people with whom you work. I sit here on the eve of my last day working at the Alcaldía who today told me “tomorrow” …again. My supervisor and a friend of ours also invited me out to a farewell lunch on my last day. I accepted with the pretense of: I will only eat if the hormigon is delivered; otherwise I’m going on a hunger strike. Humor with a touch of sincerity may just do the trick?
