Spread ‘em

So I’m alive. The full body, itchy, welty rash thing has gone away. It has been replaced by another less irritating chest rash. But well, I think maybe this is part of the Peace Corps experience . . . strange tropical illnesses that come and go and no one knows exactly what causes them?

Outside of said skin stuff work is fabulous. I recently started working with an NGO connected to the group Orphanage Outreach in the United States, they are called Aldeas SOS. They have created free kindergartens in low income neighborhoods of the city. These are available to working mothers as long as the mothers attend monthly classes held by Aldeas. Sometimes the classes are about financing, sometimes they are about opening up a new small business and sometimes (this is where I come in) the classes are about health. This past month I have been visiting each center and teaching a class on cervical cancer and the PAP smear. It is absolutely wonderful, seriously. Usually class begins and no one wants to talk to the strange gringa holding a laminated picture of a vagina. Slowly, very slowly though, they start talking. Someone wants to know if she can get a PAP while pregnant. Another wants to know if the exam will take her daughters virginity. Have I already told you I love my work? Anyway, after I gave this class to 60+ women I organized a day when they could go into the health center and get a PAP without having to wait in line, get an appointment or have a male doctor. More than 80% of the women turned up. Completely gratifying.

Sometimes in health work, especially educational health work, you can’t see immediate results. But, every once and a while something like this happens. It’s awesome.

Anyway, I found this PAP charla (class) to be so great, that I also taught it as the Casa Materna. They didn’t all go out and get a PAP (every single one of them is in her late 3rd trimester), But, they did convince me they would get the exam in the near future and they invited me to dinner!

The Deng (dengue)

Dengue- I don’t have it but, I’m at the point where I might like it just so that I can have a definitive diagnosis.

What I do have is a full body rash that itches and looks awesome, soar joints, pain behind the eyes, a cold and a fabulous cough. What is going on? NO ONE KNOWS. Thankfully Peace Corps put me up for a few days in a hotel in Managua while they monitored my symptoms. That means blood tests, fecal tests and urine tests every day. At least I don’t have the Big D (diarrhea) to top it all off.

I made a break for it yesterday and came back to Jinotega. Turns out I really do miss my work, Jinotega, the mountains and my house.

I’m resting, calling the PC office daily to check in and taking my meds. But, there is no way I’m going back to Managua any time soon. Let’s hope for a few months of rash free, cold free and most importantly Big D free living!

July 19- Anniversary of the Sandanista Revolution

July 19, 2010. 7:30 A.M. Jinotega is going wild. Buses full of FSLN youth are leaving for Managua. There are kids hanging out of bus windows and sitting on rooftop racks. They are singing Sandanista songs, cheering and trucks drive behind them honking their horns. Thousands of Nicaraguans are going to the capital city, Managua, to celebrate. They are celebrating Nicaragua’s liberation from Somoza in 1979.

A little history:

From 1912 to 1933 Nicaragua was occupied by the U.S. Over the next 3 ½ years various men were appointed president none of which were supported strongly by the United States. On January 1, 1937 a man named Anastasio Somoza Garcia appointed himself Commander of the National Guard, President of Nicaragua. He was strongly supported by the United States. In fact, Somoza became one of the richest men in Latin America as a result of supplying the U.S. with goods during World War II. Note: He became one of the richest men, Nicaragua did not profit from this. Somoza had no opposition. The National Guard dealt with anyone who challenged him. Over Somoza’s life the National Guard killed more than 20,000 peasants, workers and students.

Although Anastasio Somoza Garcia was assassinated in 1956 his sons went on to rule Nicaragua. Over a series of different brothers Anastasio Jr. became the final ‘president’ and ruled just like his father. By 1974 the Somoza family wealth was estimated to be well over $900 million. Quite a lot considering Nicaragua was one of the poorest nations on earth. At this point Nicaragua faced

36% unemployment,

74% illiteracy,

60% malnutrition and

80% kids without school.

Between 1958 and 1960 there were over 60 armed uprisings. All were squashed by the National Guard (who interestingly enough were trained and armed by the U.S.). In 1960 a Fonseca**** returned and united the nationalists into one group, called the Sandanistas. A tribute to ******. They would later adopt the name FSLN, la Frontera Sandanista de la Liberacion Nacional.

For 18 years the Front fought. They hid themselves in the mountains of northern Nicaragua training, gaining power and organizing. In 1978 a man by the name of Pedro Joaquin Chamorro, the editor of the anti-Somoza newspaper, La Prensa, was assassinated by the Guard. With this, anti-Somocistas began to openly strike. These people included priests, businessmen, students and intellectuals.

Nicaraguans rose up against the Guard throughout the country. When Somoza realized that he was losing he ordered the mass killing of kids over the age of 13, no matter their political affiliation. Genocide.

Finally on July 17, 1979 Somozas fled to Miami. The interim president lasted only 43 hours. Sandanistas were finally taking over Managua.

On July 18, 1979 the Nicaraguan people had liberated themselves from Somoza and the United States of America. They earned their freedom.

Having only lived here for a little over half a year I have already heard stories about the Somoza dictatorship. One woman I know remembers sitting in her living room in Jinotepe, Carazo. She watched the Guard line up young men in front of her house and take them up the street toward the University Park. She would later recall the sounds of shots, screams and falling bodies. The Somoza National Guard was killing off all men above the age of 13 regardless if they were Sandanista or not.

Another woman I know shared a similar story. She had been in Managua with a man she was dating when they were stopped by the National Guard. While she had her I.D. he had left his at home. The Guard seized him. His mother searched for him for days in every police station in and around Managua with no luck. A few days later he found his way home in the middle of the night covered in bruises and blood. He had been brutally attacked by the Guard, called names and been treated like an animal. Within hours of returning home he told his girlfriend, family and friends that he was going to El Salvador to be with family. He had no family in El Salvador. He was going to the mountains to train with the rebels and fight back against Somoza. A few years later, on July 17, 1979 late at night National Guard jeeps rolled quietly into this woman’s town, San Juan del Oriente in Masaya. The Guard had heard young men from the mountains where going through the community collecting guns, bullets and food from their families and friends to take back to the growing Sandanista cause. She awoke to hear three gun shots only blokes away. In the morning she would find her friend killed in front of the Catholic Church with two other young men from the village. While she went with his mother to identify the body she could not cry, wear black or morn his death. Guard soldiers were surrounding his body. Two days later the Sandanistas took hold of Managua and gained their independence. Two days too late for the town of San Juan del Oriente.

Health fairs and my life as a Peace Corps Volunteer . . .

To sum up everything lately, lots of work. I’ve been working with a lot of local NGO’s, putting on health fairs, going out to communities and working with middle and elementary school students. Last Friday I went out to a community, Sisle, to help put on a health fair.

People outside of a secondary school waiting to be seen by doctors.

Don Fidel, one of my MINSA counterparts. Fabulous man.

I ran a hand washing station,

had a few fun games that focused on personal hygiene,

and taught English classes.

I know, English classes don’t really fall under the community health umbrella. But, there is only so much a person can talk about when it comes to personal hygiene . . . so I gave them what they wanted, English.

That being said, this is the first time I have ever taught English. Not so easy! We started with basic saludos (greetings) like hello, goodbye, my name is etc. Here in Nicaragua when people pass each other in the streets they say Adios (goodbye). So logically they all try to say goodbye to you when you see them on the street in passing. It was hardest to convince them that in the U.S. we say hi in passing. I had a great time but realized that next time I’m in the Peace Corps office I need to go straight to the library. I’m picking up a TEFL, Teaching English as a Foreign Language, book.

Don Bayardo y Don Rene. They both drive MINSA ambulances and such . . . also fabulous.

Outside of work I have been visiting friends and seeing some of Nicaragua on the weekends. This past weekend I went out to visit a friend in his site, La Concordia. La Concordia is a small Jinotegan municipality about an hour north of my site. And, it is gorgeous. We spent the weekend playing cards, hanging out with his Nicaraguan family, watching soccer (he plays in a local soccer league). It was a super relaxing weekend. His host abuela (grandmother) even offered to teach me how to make Nica chees, awesome, and wash pants, not so awesome seeing as she was alluding to male pants. Ha.

Lucky for me my wknd ended splendidly. I ended up violently vomiting in Braden’s living room. First time to vomit in Nicaragua. I have yet to figure out if I had food poisoning or even better, amoebas. Cross my fingers it was just a food thing.

Well, that’s all for now. I love you all and hope everything is going splendidly in the good old U.S. of A.