clamoring...

I like beginnings. I like change and the chance to start again and the possibility that always accompanies a fresh start. The new year, however, has always seemed like a sort of false new beginning. The calendar changes, but for those of us in Minnesota not much in our sensory world encourages us to think new or fresh. Here, in the tundra, it seems spring would be a better time for a calendar change.

Regardless of the new year not feeling like it has much external significance for me, it does always present an opportunity to ruminate and reflect, and those are activities that I quite enjoy. This year, as I thought about what I'd like to change, the laundry list was longer than I'd like it to be. Despite being home and being surrounded by loved ones, I have been frequented by more headaches, unsatisfied with my job, and beyond grumpy about the dark and the cold.

In reality, when I think from a healthy perspective, I am aware that I am incredibly blessed. Inside, so many days, it is hard to remember that. And it just doesn't seem like it should be so hard to remember that. Doesn't seem it should be hard to be happy. So then I'm hard on myself: 'how can I be unhappy when I'm so privileged, when I'm so fortunate?' And of course, that doesn't usually help me feel better.

What does seem to help, is being intentional about being present, being grateful, and spending my time doing things that 'wake me up' to beauty. Writing is one of those things. I had all but stopped and I'd like to start again. Without stressing about not having spectacular things from far away lands to write about, and without having to make each post entirely perfect. I'd like this to continue to be a space in which I continue to reflect and clamor toward happiness. Thanks for coming back to read and reflect with me.

Happy New Year.

Everyone should be born into this world happy
and loving everything
But in truth it rarely works that way.
For myself, I have spent my life clamoring toward it.
Halleluiah, anyway I'm not where I started!

And have you too been trudging like that, sometimes
almost forgetting how wondrous the world is
and how miraculously kind some people can be?
And have you too decided that probably nothing important
is ever easy?

- Mary Oliver, Halleluiah

returning...

It was about two weeks ago now that I boarded the plane to fly back to Minnesota. As, usual, departure was awfully early, but the airport process went smoothly, Chepe and Eliett came all the way out to bid farewell and with Joao's incredibly positive demeanor accompanying me, I even made it through the good-byes without many tears.

But airplanes still seem strange to me. To begin, I simply don't get the physics of it; but beyond that, it's just always a sort of surreal experience. It's as if we can teleport from one reality to another (with a few hours of cramped legs and bad/overpriced food along the way) - moving through space and time in way that isn't at all natural.

I scored an exit row all to myself and a few minutes after taking off decided to open my window. The first time I flew I remember being fascinated by every aspect of it, but lately I'm usually asleep by the time the wheels leave the ground. Perhaps I was more nostalgic than normal this time. I wasn't just leaving for a quick vacation, or another round with a new group of students. This time I was flying home to family, flying home to start setting up life again in the midwest.

And out my window were the most picturesque clouds, and aren't clouds an incredible thing? These were those kind-of storybook clouds, the type of clouds I saw so often surrounding God's throne in Sunday school class, or at least saw surrounding Homer as he debated with the Big Guy on the Simpsons. I smiled to myself about these being the first two images that came to mind, but was also somehow comforted by these clouds, painting for me such an unreal backdrop to this terrifying and beautiful moment as I was being hurled away from a place I love toward another place I love.

How blessed am I? To have found various places to call home and to have seen the passion of so many people, so willing to share their stories. To have walked the streets of Managua daily and learned to see them for what they are in their raw, chaotic beauty. To have lived in a place that never let me forget that people are suffering all of the time and that I have an enormous responsibility to them and myself. To be in love and to be so loved so well, to be healthy and able to travel and work and to still believe in change.

Certainly, I returned home grateful. I've talked often about perspective, and hopping on a plane and flying from a place like Managua to place like Minneapolis will give one more than a healthy dose of it. Of course this transition is never easy, or entirely smooth, but it probably shouldn't be. I continue looking for a job and missing the people I care about in other places and working through anger that swells up in response to big and little things that are 'different' than how I think they should/could be. Those 'clashes' or moments of heightened perspective motivate me, and although I'm in a city that may look a little more 'refined' there is plenty of work to be done. It's comforting to sit here in Northfield and still feel within me the desire to keep on as part of that struggle. I'm beyond blessed and so grateful to be here.

much has happened...

I have been terrible about blogging this spring! To all of you who continue to check in despite my inexcusable absence - thanks for being persistent.

Since I last wrote much has happened:
- Our semester students partied hard, said their goodbyes and headed home (all but one - who is still in rural Nica)
- A lovely 'may-term' group arrived from Furman University and brightened up our May with their enthusiasm, laughter and kindness
- I woke up one rainy night terrified, and convinced that I was being electrocuted...until Joao convinced me that my hand had just fallen asleep :)
- I got to see sloths (with their babies), a paca, howler monkeys and all sorts of colorful birds in their natural habitat on a tour of a sustainable farm near Matagalpa
- Chepe and Eliett got married and I was honored to be a witness in their civil wedding!!!

And now, my time here in Nicaragua (and Central America, for that matter) is nearly over. I write, during a short break from packing up my room here at the CGE house as I prepare to vacate and make space for a large travel delegation that arrives on Thursday. I'll be crashing at my boss's house until my departure and in this last week and a half plan to spend a weekend at the beach with Joao and time here around Managua saying goodbyes.

It's unbelievable to me that I'll be in Minnesota so soon and even more unreal that I've spent nearly two years in Central America. I've been debating about what to do with my blog when I return to the Twin Cities. Perhaps I'll continue, perhaps I'll let it rest peacefully at the close of my time here. Although, as I continue on my path, I'm certain that my transition to home will bring with it a whole plethora of new observations and reflections...so I would guess that I'll keep writing. Thank you again for being such faithful readers. Hope everyone is enjoying spring - wherever they may be, and for those of you in the Midwest - I'll get to enjoy it with you soon!

"My hope is that the youth would return to the streets to make history."

-Fernando Cardenal

on racial profiling here and there...

Girls from the United States have a reputation here in Latin America. Whether we're here spring break-ing, studying or doing non-profit work, people often assume that we're 'liberal'. And I don't mean that they assume we're all democrats, but rather they think we're all easy - as if being 'liberal' (educated and empowered about sexual rights) means that we all enjoy sleeping around.

And yes, as a white girl from Minnesota this is pretty much the extent of my negative 'racial profiling' experience. Does it matter if people here assume I'm a slut when they see the color of my hair? Not really, they can't do anything other than approach me and quickly find out they're mistaken. But does it piss me off? Every single time, yes.

I'm certain that my annoyance in such situations pales in comparison to the anger Latinos must feel in the face of the blatant racism and stereotyping they confront in the states. Certainly Latinos aren't the only ones who face racial-profiling - but this new law seems to me as much like an insult as it does a negation of people's human rights. Not only are they legalizing racism, they're doing it in a way that exposes their belief that Latinos are a powerless demographic.

Thank heavens people are proving them wrong; and god bless solidarity. As enraging as the words and actions of many legislators in the south west have been, it's been encouraging to see such an organization of people against it. It's about time we start talking about immigration. I guess I spoke too soon in my last post; turns out there are things that will get people into the streets at home too.

to the streets...

Last week while we were in the country I commented to Suyen that this semester felt different. Usually as we drive into Managua we also enter a world of political unrest - of alleged electoral fraud or shady changes to the constitution or enormous manifestations -both for and against the current leadership - and it seems that el famoso Daniel Ortega is always at the middle of it all.

This time things felt strangely calm.

And then this week, in the oppressive heat of Managua, it all exploded. Really the issue started a few months back, when Ortega (the president) issued a decree that would allow the current 'magistrados' (like supreme court judges) to stay in power longer. A few of those judges put his decree (or "decretazo") to the test last week and refused to turn in their robes. Fighting and name-calling and all sorts of anger ensued between the magistrados themselves last week and then this week, in Nicaraguan style, the people took to the streets.

As the opposing legislators attempted to come together on Tuesday to address the issue, they encountered mobs with mortars at the national assembly and then later the make-shift assembly was hunted down at the Holiday Inn. The police kept the people from getting in, but didn't do much else to control the situation. The news scenes of protesters (or 'gangster like thugs' as they are being referred to in many US news articles/channels), of cars being set on fire, and the background noise of mortars being fired in the distance are all too familiar. And continued yesterday and continue today as I write.

It's hard to write about details because it's so hard to fully understand what's going on - even being here and watching the news and talking to people and knowing a bit of background - I don't really get it. Reading articles from the North American perspective generally upset me, to talk about it all you have to simplify it and truly it's anything but simple. What do you do with a guy like Ortega in the context of Nicaragua? Does this count as democracy, when the people feel the need to take to the streets every few months? Is this democracy embodied? People making their desires and needs known?

I'm reading Howard Zinn's "A People's History of the United States" right now and the current situation here and that of the states in the late 1800's seem to have some powerful commonalities - people were organizing and unionizing and marching up to capital hill with demands and guns and fire in their bellies year after year. And honestly, I'm not sure why we've become so docile.

Obviously it's not easy to live in a place with so much unrest. Many Nicaraguans I've spoken with this week are upset by the protests, the traffic, the violence; they sigh and say "we just want to work". There are lots of accusations about who is financing these protests, who's really behind them, it's complex. There's no way I can write adequately about it. However, I do like that Nicaragua never lets one stop thinking about these issues, it's raw, it's pulsing and you can't avoid really thinking about the nature of power and corruption, of government and society.

to live now...

"The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory."

- Howard Zinn