Moving Day

I haven't posed in a long time and I apologize for that.  It seems life has gotten in the way, and my brain hasn't wanted to settle down to put words to internet.  Anyway, an update: I moved.  Not back to the states like most of the forty volunteers who joined Peace Corps at the same time I did, and who ended their two-years of service in March.  No, that is for the sane.  Instead, I, loca that I am, decided to stick around for a third year as a regional volunteer leader, which means that half of my time I will travel around southeastern Nicaragua visiting other volunteers to make sure they have the support they need, and the other half working on a project with the Ministry of Health in the municipal capital.  To do that, I obviously had to move two hours away to the municipal capital, which was not as difficult as I thought it would be, since I had a bunch of people to help me out.

This is my host brother, Hector, posing by the third wave of things to be moved.  The first wave was my large backpack, and a smaller bag.  The second wave was three small bags.  As you can see, the third wave consists of three bags, my pillow, a duffle (on the bench in the back), and my bookcase.  The pig stayed behind with abuela.

Obviously, the bookcase was the most difficult thing to move, since I couldn't even lift it by myself, and needed my buddy Moneda to help load it up.  Everything else I was able to take on the bus with no problem, but it would have been a hassle, emotionally and financially, to transport that thing on a yellow school bus that has seen better days.  Thankfully, our parish priest, Father Cornelius, offered to take it in his truck, since he was heading to town the same day I wanted to move.

Thanks for being awesome, padre.

In the end, I moved two years of stuff in three trips from my old home to what will be my new one. I know it is only a two-hour bus ride away, but it feels like a more monumental move than that.  I'm moving from a town of around six-thousand to a city of about sixteen-thousand, from rural to urban, from friends to strangers.  It took me an entire year to feel comfortable in my last place, when will I feel that here?  I live in hope that it will be soon.  Plus, I think the fact that I have a real flushing toilet instead of a latrine will help with the readjustment.

The view from my old room.  Notice the pig barrier, to keep him from coming into my room and being his typical cochino self.

The view from my new room.  Notice the cats lounging, not giving a literal shake of their tails what you think of them.