Monday, April 16, 2012
Esa hembra es MALA
In the last few months, various people, from the nurses in the health center, to my host sisters, to the owners of my local corner store, and beyond have taken to calling me "la hembra mala" completely independent of each other. For those of you who don`t speak Spanish, "hembra mala" means bad or evil woman. So why would people who I am close to start calling me the evil woman? Am I really that bad a person? Well, yes I am malita every now and again, but that is not the reason for my new nickname. It is all to do with the popular Mexican novela Teresa, in which the title character is, indeed, a hembra mala. Since everyone in my town knows me as Teresa, it has become everyone`s new favorite joke. The show itself doesn´t do much for me. It doesn´t have enough absurd humor, like Hasta que el dinero nos separe, or a cutie-pie lead male like Cuando me enamoro (I`ve had a big fat crush on Juan Soler ever since La fea mas bella), so it really holds no attraction to me. The best thing about Teresa is the theme song, which is where the hembra mala reference comes from. I seriously can`t get enough of it, and everytime I`m feeling sassy, I will sing along to it in my head, pretending that I really am la hembra mala.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Tough
Last month I translated for an eye-care and dental brigade, and on the last day, after staying in the eye-care section for most of the time, I moved over to help in the dental section. Not only did I translate, but I helped with the suction too. It has instilled in me a vast respect for the dental profession, and a horror of what happens if you never brush your teeth. I have taken to flossing multiple times a day.
The husband and wife team up there in the photo were incredibly nice and patient with me for the whole day, even when I accidently suctioned off the filling of a cavity that hadn´t set yet. It was a great and difficult day, my back was sore from leaning over, and my thumb and index finger that held the suction was tingly for weeks afterwards (it vibrates slightly as you use it), and this was after one day. They worked like this for four days, often going without a lunch break so they could see more patients.
I had sat on the bus next to the man in the photo in the morning as we both traveled to the next town over, where the brigade was situated, so when it came to explain that they wanted to remove all the teeth that were left on this upper jaw, I asked if he was going to be alright with that. He smiled, and told me not to worry, saying that he was tough. Even as rotten away as they were, it wasn´t exactly easy to remove the four teeth he still had, and I winced as I looked on.
Later, as we sat waiting for the bus to take us back home, he told me of his time fighting for the contra forces, only stopping his narration to spit out the bits of blood that were still filling his mouth. He had been shot during a battle, and as the bullet passed through his lower leg, it had carved away some of the bone on his tibia. After he showed me both the entry and exit wounds, and I saw the marked deformation on his shin, he explained that the infection was so bad afterwards that it was only the grace of God that saved his leg and his life.
And I knew that when he had told me not to worry, that he was tough, he knew exactly what he was talking about.
The husband and wife team up there in the photo were incredibly nice and patient with me for the whole day, even when I accidently suctioned off the filling of a cavity that hadn´t set yet. It was a great and difficult day, my back was sore from leaning over, and my thumb and index finger that held the suction was tingly for weeks afterwards (it vibrates slightly as you use it), and this was after one day. They worked like this for four days, often going without a lunch break so they could see more patients.
I had sat on the bus next to the man in the photo in the morning as we both traveled to the next town over, where the brigade was situated, so when it came to explain that they wanted to remove all the teeth that were left on this upper jaw, I asked if he was going to be alright with that. He smiled, and told me not to worry, saying that he was tough. Even as rotten away as they were, it wasn´t exactly easy to remove the four teeth he still had, and I winced as I looked on.
Later, as we sat waiting for the bus to take us back home, he told me of his time fighting for the contra forces, only stopping his narration to spit out the bits of blood that were still filling his mouth. He had been shot during a battle, and as the bullet passed through his lower leg, it had carved away some of the bone on his tibia. After he showed me both the entry and exit wounds, and I saw the marked deformation on his shin, he explained that the infection was so bad afterwards that it was only the grace of God that saved his leg and his life.
And I knew that when he had told me not to worry, that he was tough, he knew exactly what he was talking about.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Where You From?
Accents are funny things. I know I have one when I speak Spanish for, as my host niece so delicately put it, I speak "feo." Yet, I don't think I have as much of an accent as other people from the States when speaking Spanish. It depends on the day, if I've been talking or thinking in English, and if I am tired or nervous, but most of the time I can keep my accent at least a bit in check...or at least I like to think I do. The point is that I definitely have an accent, but it is not so obvious that people from my town know where I am from, which has lead to some very interesting questions about my nationality. What follows is a list of guesses as to my place of origin, from most to least common.
- Spain
- Costa Rica
- France
- Chile
- Brazil
- Nicaragua
- Colombia
- Puerto Rico
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
This is what a Nicaraguan woman looks like at the start of her labor pains.
She's much braver than I would be.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Why I Love My Panzonas
As I've mentioned before, one of my favorite things about my service is hanging out with the panzonas (pregnant women) at the casa materna. Usually they are bored out of their minds, just sitting and waiting for their babies to finally arrive, so we try to make each other laugh as much as we can to pass the time. One day about a week ago I was sitting on the porch with two of the panzonas, when the director of the health center came walking by, and the two of them started giggling as quietly as they could until he was out of sight. When I asked them why they were laughing so much, one of the women, Reina, told me the story.
It's orange season now, so there is a truck that passes the casa materna every day, full of workers going out to pick the oranges, and every time they pass they always yell rude things at the pobre panzonas. Once, for instance, they yelled, "what the hell did he do to you to make you so panzona?!" to which Reina replied, "the same thing he did to your mom!". Reina is awesome, if you were still wondering, by the way.
So one afternoon, as Reina was texting on her phone, she heard the orange truck go by, and just then she sneezed. Not looking up from her phone, she heard someone say, "bless you," and assumed it was one of the orange pickers.
"Why is that idiot telling me 'bless you' after being so rude before?" she asked out loud.
"Shut up, you," one of the other women hissed at her, "it's the director!"
Reina looked up, and sure enough, there was the director of the health center, standing and staring, open mouthed at the panzona, wondering what he had done to piss her off. Now, whenever they see him, they can't help but dissolve into giggle fits. And it's stories like this that make me love my panzonas.
It's orange season now, so there is a truck that passes the casa materna every day, full of workers going out to pick the oranges, and every time they pass they always yell rude things at the pobre panzonas. Once, for instance, they yelled, "what the hell did he do to you to make you so panzona?!" to which Reina replied, "the same thing he did to your mom!". Reina is awesome, if you were still wondering, by the way.
So one afternoon, as Reina was texting on her phone, she heard the orange truck go by, and just then she sneezed. Not looking up from her phone, she heard someone say, "bless you," and assumed it was one of the orange pickers.
"Why is that idiot telling me 'bless you' after being so rude before?" she asked out loud.
"Shut up, you," one of the other women hissed at her, "it's the director!"
Reina looked up, and sure enough, there was the director of the health center, standing and staring, open mouthed at the panzona, wondering what he had done to piss her off. Now, whenever they see him, they can't help but dissolve into giggle fits. And it's stories like this that make me love my panzonas.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
How to Wash Clothes Nica-Style
Since I know all of you were dying to know.
First, fill up the lavandero.
Sprinkle laundry soap in the bucket and fill it up with water.
Put clothes in the bucket and let sit.
To properly scrub your clothes use the palms of your hands, don't make a fist, or you'll scrap up your knuckles.
Rinse and repeat.
Does it still stink?
Of course it does, that's because you sweat to an alarming degree...seriously, please ask me worriedly if I´m ok because I sweat so much.
Throw some suavitel (fabric softener) in there and let sit. It will make your clothes smell less disgusting.
Fill it up with water...
let it sit...
Hang up your clean clothes and hope it doesn't rain.
 |
| Tools of the trade...always choose soap like this one, the ones with other colors will irritate your skin. |
First, fill up the lavandero.
 |
| Check out how good shape my bucket is in. |
Put clothes in the bucket and let sit.
To properly scrub your clothes use the palms of your hands, don't make a fist, or you'll scrap up your knuckles.
Rinse and repeat.
Does it still stink?
Of course it does, that's because you sweat to an alarming degree...seriously, please ask me worriedly if I´m ok because I sweat so much.
Throw some suavitel (fabric softener) in there and let sit. It will make your clothes smell less disgusting.
Hang up your clean clothes and hope it doesn't rain.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
What I've Learned
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.
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.
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