I have been in Nicaragua for a year and one day now. When people ask me if it feels like it has gone by fast my answer is always yes and no. My best analogy is a week where you suddenly realize that it's the weekend, and think to yourself, "wow, how it is Friday already?". But then, as you look back on the week Monday seems like forever ago.
It seems crazy to think I've been here for an entire year, that a new set of health volunteers has arrived in country. When I was in their place, all the Volunteers I would talk to seemed so confident and experienced, and they seemed to know everything. Now that I'm one of those volunteers, I realize they must have been faking it, because I definitely do not know everything. I haven't even found that "amazing" ropa americana store that supposedly exists in my town, though I'm starting to suspect that it's because my definition of amazing differs from that of the other volunteers. There is a place that sells a ton of jeans, but I'll be damned if I've seen them selling skirts for thirty cords a pop.
Anyway, my point is that I still have so much to learn and do during my time here in Nicaragua, but I have learned a number of key things like:
How to hand wash clothes, and the wonders of suavetel to make even the most sweat-soaked shirts wearable again.
How to endure a ten-hour bus ride on a chicken bus. Hint, it involves a lot of bachata and self-imposed dehydration.
The importance of friends and family. I have never been so lonely as I have here, but talking to friends here and back in the States has kept me from feeling it too much.
That to check if your cell phone has a charge, you can lick the metal bands on the battery, to see if you get a little shock...you can also just plug it in with its charger, which is safer and not nearly as gross.
How to give health talks in Spanish on topics ranging from the birthing process to hand washing.
That I can be funny while speaking Spanish. It has taken a lot of work, but my Spanish has improved to the point that I can express my personality, and actually make people laugh at my stories, not just at how I speak.
The simply joy of a corn tortilla hot of the tamal accompanied by a big chunck of cuajada.
That the mere sight of me can reduce small children to tears. My town is pretty isolated so some people, especially from the outlying communities, haven't ever seen someone as white as me before, and I've caused at least two children to burst out into sobs when they see my gringaness.
How to crotchet, and how to teach others to do it, in Spanish, no less.
That if you decide that you are going to help eradicate malaria one little mosquito at a time you must be prepared for the consequences. Seriously, that one I just squashed had so much blood in it, I'm surprised a pair of miniature detectives hasn't roped off the area already. If an anopheles with a badge shows up to question you, you don't know a thing, got it?
So I suppose I have learned a lot during my year here. I'm excited to see what lessons the next year and three months brings.
