Last Days Abroad

After leaving Guatemala, I discovered the mangled maze of bus routes, the dreary decor of late night passings in bus terminals and the horrible mess this would make of my stomach. I arrived in Tapachula Chiapas Mexico around 7pm (two weeks ago). Just before boarding, the torrential downpour of the nearby jungle entering into the rainy season let us all know who is really in charge by dumping buckets of rain from the sky. At least it relieved us of the sweltering humidity that had recently descended upon the entire region. The goal is to head back to Colola along the Pacific Coast Highway 200 where gorgeous coastal vistas and quiet beach villages gems scattered along arguably one of the most beautiful coastlines in the world.

I happily entered the first class overnight bus that is a Mexican speciality. Into the cushy, air conditioned rolling machine of luxury and immediately where I fall fast asleep, little did I know this would be the last time I sleep well or feel well for the next 36 hours until arriving in Colola. Starting in Tapachula, I would end up taking 6 buses, none of which from this point would be air-conditioned, some of which did even have windows that opened and were packed to the brim with people and packages--- more than anything, it was HOT. So the trek went like this:

Tapachula, Chiapas to Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca-- two buses, 11 hours and one teachers protest. Grade A traveling

Puerto Escondido to Acapulco, Guerrero-- supposedly a first class bus with no air, no open windows except for the emergency escape opening in the ceiling, a seat next an obscene drunk guy that caused me to relocate and my somewhat substantial first meal in days that ended churning my stomach into a mess for the next week. 8 hours in the Nightmare on Wheels transportation line. We arrived to the Acapulco bus station at 1am where I befriended a sweet little old lady who was headed on the same trek as I. We stick together in the shady late-night bus station, she cares for my things while I am loosing a brutal battle in the bathroom, trying not to loose my cookies in a pretty dismal bathroom. Our bus arrives at 3am to the next destination.

Acapulco, Guerrero to Lazaro Cardenas, Michoacan- 6 hours overnight, relative ventilation all the while fighting back the nagging call of my failed digestion to relieve itself right there on the dirty foot rest of the bus-- but I survive. Finally I arrive in my beloved state of Michoacan and immediately I brighten. I recognized the locations posted on the bus schedule and the familiar calls from bus attendants to Maurata and Tecoman. My traveling compañera guides me to the correct bus and as we part ways she assures me that if I am ever back on the coast that there is a comfy bed and family atmosphere for me to enjoy at her home--- probably one of my most favorite aspects of Mexican culture, the sweet, friendly and open hospitality unmatched anywhere.

Final bus trip along the coast Lazaro Cardenas to Colola, Michoacan--- 4 hours in bus with open windows capturing mouthfuls of salty ocean breeze, ripe mango grooves crowd the scenery and offer some of the only green leaves in sight. The rainy season has yet to descend along this part of the coast. I learn that it hasnt rained since I was last in Mexico and the once lush verdant mountains are now a gnarled mess of bare branches and dust. I arrive in Colola and immediately find out friends who welcome me with hugs, kisses and news of a dance to crown the prom queen tonight! Just in time.

I stayed the week in Colola and experienced the authentic Mexican experience that was missing during my first leg of this trip. I spent time with my friend Lupe and her cousins, all of whom are under the age of 23. It spend most of the day helping her cousins Flor and Taña whom help their mother make traditional fare like pork

tamales, coconut atole (a rich, warm drink made from coconut, masa, cinnamon and sugar), enchiladas, salsa de chile guajio which is specific to Michoacan, and any kind of tamarind treat you can imagine--I unfortunately couldnt enjoy a lot of this amazing food due to a bad case of amboebas that I picked up somewhere along the way. I introduced cards games like bullshit and war which we played obsessively, painted our nails, made each other up with lots of eyeliner and talked about the boyfriends they hide from their families. Each night we would watch the amazing Colola sunset and spent the remainder of the night sitting outside in plastic tables and chairs of the roadside taqueria run by Flor and her mother. My final night, I was able to find a lone turtle on the beach and kiss the ladies good bye for one last time. I would then head one of the largest Mexican cities Guadalajara to meet up with my friends Jenny and Deva that have been living and teaching there since August.

I spend a week in Guadalajara adjusting to city life, pubic transportation, any kind of food, supply or service you could dream of and the comforting home of two dear friends. I find myself sick again the first night. Perhaps, I have been meaning to be sick for a long time and my body is just now feeling safe and comfortable enough to let go. Stomach nasty and head cold welcome me to Guadalajara. This doesnt stop me from going to the movies (!), out to dinner and to the beautiful open air markets Mexico has to offer that are unparalled anywhere else I have been.

I am now in Morelia on the last leg of my trip. Back in the city where it all started 9 months ago to the day. Although instead of staying in the grungy volunteer house, I will spend the last days in Mexico with Miriam who is a fashionable and sweet lady with whom I worked in Colola and is just what I need to catapult me back into the developed world. She lives with her parents and siblings in the beautiful mountains of surrounding Morelia-- my favorite of all the larger Mexican cities visited in this outing. We will shop for new clothes, seeing as though I have been wearing the same 4 shirts and 4 pants for the past 9 months, listen to pop music, and dye my rapidly graying mop of hair.

I return to the US on monday June 15 to figure out the next leg of my life, regroup, rest and heal from the most challenging and amazing experiences of my life. If you are in Chicago this summer, we MUST hang out. I cannot thank everyone in my previous life in Chicago and everyone I have met along this journey- I could not have accomplished one bit of this experience without you.

Water that Falls from the Rocks

It is significant that we are working on water issues in a community called Kisilaya which means "the water that falls from the rocks" in Mayagna, another indigenous group in Nicaragua. In my experience, it seems like trying to work on water issues in Kisilaya is almost like trying to obtain water from a rock. I wouldn´t have signed up for this if I thought it was going to be easy

My long awaited work in Nicaragua has come to a successful end. After 6 weeks of the most intensive work I have ever done in my life we have accomplished the following:

-Organized NGO´s in Waspam, advocated and received resources and technical support in the community from NGO´s whom otherswise won´t set foot in Kisilaya.

-Organized a ton of meetings, workshops and interpersonal contact with the community to ensure they have the skills and information to improve their access and quality to water.

-Organized 5 water committees

-Organized an informal network of leaders that are and will be crucial to moving on to more sustainable water systems like rainwater and ceramic filtration

-Cleaned 7 wells

-Repaired 8 wells

-Wrote a manual in spanish and miskitu on water management

-Wrote a proposal for a community health educator program that will be managed by the womens center in Kisilaya

-Hopefully prepared the community for the next step when the Engineers without Borders make their research trip in the fall.

Nicaragua beat me up and wore me down, but I wouldn´t give up. In spite of all the things that seemed to go wrong at every turn, we perservered, we looked fear and disappointment in the face and laughed-because really that is the only way you can deal with some of the ridiculous stuff that goes on. I understand why the latin american attitude is so laid back in some respects. Mostly because if you were to get yourself worked up everytime your plan when down the tubes, there would be a lot more heart attacks.

And the most touching of all experiences was my final day in Kisilaya where looked at photos of our work, their families and their community- the kids loved this most of all. I received and gave heartfelt hugs, hearty handshakes and anxious questioning about my return--- I finally cracked the serious, conservative and rather withdrawn culture of relations among Kisialayans. And even more than this was while I waited for my little plane to arrive and take me back to Managua a group of 6 women arrived, encircled me with clasped hands and a seranad of a traditional tune for safe travels. Hugs and tears were shared and before I know it, I am back in the traffic, noise and grunge of Managua.

I am now in Guatamala City which is the largest city in Central America. I spent the night with the ever charming Alma who I met in Colola. She dazzled me with the colonial architecture and soft glow of Antigua. Tomorrow, I will leave for Mexico and then travel along the beautiful Pacific coast line until I return to where I left my hear the last time I was in Mexico, in the tiny indigenous village of Colola.

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Life in Kisilaya

Never would I have imagined--- seems to be a reocurring theme

I am going into my last week in Nicaragua and officially have hit the one month mark until I return to the worst job market in US history. Never in my life have enjoyed the work that has been accomplished over the past- what is it now-- almost 9 months. I can no longer imagine employment that involves a desk and computer. My hands and body have since been yielded useful and skilled. The ultimate test of this excursion has landed in my lap with full force here in Nicaragua all the way in the North Atlantic Coast, boarding Honduras along the Río Coco and just a few hours away from the Carribean Coast.

I have been working with a fine compañero named Noel. He is the son of a well respected Miskto woman Doña Florencia, who has been leading the charge in Waspam and the surrounding communities on violence against women, indigenous rights and overall systematic injustice that is seeping through the cracks of every institution in this region. This is truly a place where the grassroots leaders are really working from the ground up--- because for the most part, it is not a job or form of income, it is a way of life, a necesity, a survival mechanism, because lord knows many of the organized institutions are not working for the people--for the most part anyway. Noel started out as my interpreter and has since been invigorated with the challenges this project faces and has been my faithful compañero since. Walking hours in the hot sun, helping mange the community onslought of questions and discussion, running around like crazy trying to find materials, machines and manpower to get this job done-- yes Noel is a rockstar.

At this point we are heading into my final week in Waspam and we are prepared to finish the week with 5 working wells in Kisilaya. We have successfully completed a skill building workshop in water and sanitation, well management and organizing water committees. We also wrote a water manuel in Spanish and Miskito which will be distributed this week. With the folks in Kisilaya, we have cleaned 5 wells by hand-- which means that one poor soul is sent down into the well to scoop up the debris and dirty water while the rest of the barrio heaves on a rope, dump the contents and begin again. Now the real test will be to see if the organizing, capacity building and resource implemenation will serve the purpose, or will everything crumble a week after my departure? With Noel´s continued presence and the support for the community leaders that are apart of the Wankgi Tangni Women´s Center, I will maintain a steadfast positon in tree position with fingers crossed on both hands (the yoga pose TREE maintains a position of focus and foundation for continued growth) and hope for progress. Once Kisilaya has maintained their water committees and regular maintanence, we will move on to the next phase that includes rainwater catchment. There are a few people that are already using unprotected rainwater systems, which basically just means is it is an open system that can be easily contaminated. That is a great start-- and most of all, the woman using this system is my favorite person in all of Nicaragua. Doña Patricia of Kisilaya, quite possibly once of the most patient, loving and respectful persons I have every met. She is the perfect foundation for furthing the goals of the project- which is the establish skills in water management and creat sustainable water autonomy. For now atleast, the goal is the just get water in Kisilaya and after this week, I hope to be able to write in the next entry with success.

Photos will be posted separately

Naksa Nakisma!

I have been in Waspam for the past week and suffices to say that I have hit the ground running, sprinting, like a bat out of hell since I arrived. Waspam is located on Nicaragua´s North Atlantic Coast along the Río Coco that creates the border with Honduras. Waspam is the cultural, political and commercial hub among all the villages along the Río Coco. Here, the language is more often in Miskito than Spanish and I have been learning a little (for example--Naksa Nakisma= Hello How are you).

The groundwork for the water development project is of and running but in a different way than I imagined. The project is focused on a small village named Kisilaya that is 6 kilometers down river from Waspam. This is an entirely indigenous community that is rather organized- there is a local governing body, neighborhood coordinators, but especially the women are organized much of which can be contributed to the influence of my mentor- Rose Cunningham- international recognized human rights activist working with Madre for the past twenty years.

Rose´s work in Kisilaya has been ongoing for the past 6 years. During that time she has developed the Seeds of Hope program that has provided non GMO seeds to this community which primarily survives on agriculture. They have developed a seed bank and expanded their farms along the rivers- which is especially apparent right now, in the middle of the harvest. Everyone is extremely busy harvesting, transporting, storing and selling their bounty before the harsh weather of the rainy season sets in. Did I mention this is one of the wettest places on earth- receiving 30000 inches of rain annually. Other projects Rose and her team of lady organizers have completed is the building of a Women´s Center in Kisilaya, introducing a telephone at the center, providing bikes for transporting goods to Waspam, regular education opportunities and most recently provided sewing machines and material.

I have spent almost everyday in Kisilaya since my arrive a little over a week ago. Mostly I am walking 12 kilometers days there and back. In order to provide the groundwork for exploring sustainable water options, first we have to get some sort of water in the community---which means the bulk of my time will be spent organizing water committees, cleaning and repairing existing wells and providing an exchange between Kisilaya and other communities that are using rainwater and ceramic filters. Step by step, poco a poco, we are making progress. The last week was spent meeting organizations working on water issues, evaluating wells--- 15 were evaluated and only two are partially working. As a result, people are using river water for everything, which is extremely contaminated. Women and girls, who are primarily responsible for fetching water, washing clothes, and cooking, spend the bulk of their day either at the river or collecting water from the river. The wells have not worked in this community in years. The state of the wells is pretty horrible in some cases the main culprits, according to the community- are gangs of young guys that basically vandalize the wells and destroy them..... I am still struggling to see the benefit that they would get from doing such a heinous thing. This project--- improving water quality, access and sustainability--- might possibly be the project that takes over my life.

After walking all day everyday in the hot! sun, the Kisilayans generously share ripe juicy watermelon and coconuts from their land that make the most satisfying treat possible after a long day of work. Finally, the week ended in Kisilaya with a grand festival at the Catholic church (thank you colonization once again) where you can find everyone cooking up a storm, singing and enjoying the break from the hard hard work they excert daily.

Getting the Dirty on Community Work In Mastatal

The following  project in Mastatal was smaller in scale but lead mostly under my direction.  I did what I know how to do best, which is include those bright minds that have more skills than I.  The following is an account of bringing together the many brilliant minds at work at the Ranch to improve the living situation for one sweet old man in Mastatal. 

A Rocket Stove for Mancho

The first week in February brought about one of the worst windstorms in Costa Rican history. It was felt throughout the country, but as is often the case, the devastation is more widespreand in poor rural areas.  In this village, many people have constructed their homes out of cheap local materials, or don`t have the resource to revamp old wood that has been worn by many rainy seasons.  And so is the case of Don Mancho.  He is a sweet, and I mean sweet, old man that lives in a shack tucked back in the brush.    He is an old man, a squatter, a master gardener--- with a reputation for having a magnificent seed collection (he can seriously grow anything in any condition, I am told) and prefers to live rustically.  His home is hidden behind Noni trees, Caña Brava reeds and a hearty garden of plantains, yuca, sugar cane, pigeon peas and beans.  He sent us home with arms full of his bounty as our most cherished payment upon every visit.  The wind storm tore the roof of his house and he reached out for help through the Ranch´s charitable arm- The Mastate Foundation.  We fixed his roof and revamped the old frame, but found that his well being could be vastly improved with a few simple solutions: a raised bed to protect him from the snakes that creep in at night and yet again, a rocket stove.

Volunteers put together a stellar semi-lofted bed complete with a soft cushion.  Other work completed was a beautiful window shutter that would provide protection from the rain but could also be easily opened and closed to increase ventilation--- completed by the talented hands of our beloved Johnny "Goma" (spanish for hang over which he acquired after a night of celebration way beyond what we were accustomed to seeing from this sweet southern gentleman).

Mancho has been cooking over an open fire in his little house and the remnants of soot and cinder are apparent on the walls.  It is difficult to imagine the state of his lungs.  Just imagine the sweetest little man in the world and there you have Mancho.  Mancho is a small man, less than 5 ft tall with dewy chocolate eyes and long lashes.  He has the a very sweet smile, so much so that you can´t help but find yourself doing the same when coming in contact with him.  

I organized a group of more or less 8-10 people to help with the planning and construction of the rocket stove to be installed in his home.  This time, I did some further research and asked around the engineering-design minds at the Ranch.  We built the stove pipe elbow out of bamboo and installed a rebar cage that would wrap around and over the elbow.  This serves two functions 1) to provide a stable stove top for the pot to sit upon 2) to provide an internal structure after the bamboo elbow burns out.  All of this is then encased in a cob mixture of manure, sand, clay and sawdust.  This mixture was adjusted to provide increased insulation and less heat transfer so that more of the heat is transfered directly to the cooking pot instead of the material.  This was set upon a foundation of concrete, cinderblock and mortar to provide strength against the hefty rains and erosion experienced in this mountain-side location.  

We hauled materials, we bagged up sand from the nearby river, collected manure from the local pasture and away we go.  Over weeks time, we installed the rockets stove complete with the experimental design.  I will never forget the afternoon were we spent most of the day with Mancho, Rachel and I sat on his bed and shared a lunch of beans, rice and boiled eggs.  We told jokes and laughed at bad translations.  The bulk of the work was finished that day.

I returned a few days later to meet with Mancho and to make sure that he could use the stove effectively.  Low and behold, we boiled a pot of  beans in ten minutes.  Success!  Mancho was just as excited as I.  Then next step is to have Ana (from the previous post) make a home visit and help with any trouble shooting.  There you have it.  After finishing up with Mancho, his niece Mauritza who lives near by and who has been really helpful throughout the process of both projects, asked if she too could have a rocket stove.  Making sustainable development fashionable, that is what I aim to do--- I could only exclaim "Nice".  

One of Three Projects in Mastatal

The fright sets in as the measurements are taken and the materials are arranged. I am not really a builder-- sure I have but together book shelves and can be somewhat crafty, but play a major role in building a house? Dios mio, what have I gotten myself into.

A team of four interns from the Ranch, including myself, commit to a regular 30 minute trek throught jungle, climbing mountainsides, sloshing through creeks and rivers and braving the heat of the cow pasture to reach our destination. A stick frame house set atop a mountain with a gorgeous view of La Cangreja Mountain. There we meet with a family that has moved to this remote location in order to save money so they can send their teenage daugther to a boarding school in the nearest town, Santiago de Puriscal. Juan Luis and Ana have inhereted the land, a few cows and this house that is without protection from the elements, running water, cooking gas or electricity. Their daughter, when she visits home, sleeps in a hammock out in the open space of the second floor. Rustic rural living with a beautiful view. Juan Luis is a subsistence farmer who lives in San Jose 4 days of the week to work as a gardener and security guard. Ana milks the cows, makes cheese and often joins Juan Luis in San Jose where they stay with family until they return to the countryside for more tranquil scenary. (photo: house as we begin construction)

Solar Energy International had recently installed a solar panel that now powers the indoor lighting (prior to this they were using a diesel lantern- another health risk averted). We committ to constructing the second level of the house, which when we arrive is little more than a few peices of tin and 2x4´s. We also set out to improve the situation in the kitchen where Ana is cooking over an open fire in an enclosed area. Our goals: provide protection from the elements by building walls, a bedroom for their daughter and a rocket stove in the kitchen area. What is a rocket stove you ask-- it is one of the most important discoveries in sustainable technology that I have made during my time in Costa Rica. The stove is basically a metal stove pipe elbow that is encased with an insultative mixture of clay, sand, manure and hay. Fire remains as the main source of heat but is set upon a shelf acting like flue where air can flow in and ventilate the flame. The result is a clean burning fire that uses fuel efficiently and reduces particulate matter, all the while somewhat maintaining traditional cooking methods. Genius I tell you. You can find out more through the Aprovecho Research Center in Oregon who helped to develop the technology. (photos: above: finished construction of house. below: rocket stove and table)

The four of us trekked up to their home on a regular basis, building a friendship, getting to know their lifestyle, sharing regional cuisine of the finest quality-- including my new favorite treat- Coco Con Miel- toasted coconut coated in carmelized honey cooked over low heat until gooey and delicious. Our relationship blossoms, the non spanish speakers get a chance to practice in a safe environment and we discuss the details of the project. Over a weeks time with over 15 different sets of helping hands and many days of hauling wood, sand, supplies, tools etc through the mountains mostly by hand (but also with the help of a horse); we successfully completed the project that sends smiles across our faces for days on end.

What does success look like: two bedrooms, walls complete with window sills that frame the mountain view, a new double burner stove, a handcrafted kitchen table and shelves. They were thrilled with the new additions to their home and continued on with the momentum with additions of their own. As the building project started Ana told us that her original impression of gringo was that of crazy party-goers blowing money on the beach (not a direct quote). She complimented our work ethic with an amendeded view of above mentioned gringos. Not only was her view of us ammended but life long friends were made.

We returned a few weeks later for lunch and a traditional cooking session with Ana on her new stove. She taught us how to make tortillas by hand. We arrived to find that Juan Luis has used the scraps of wood to building a tool shed, a bedroom door and more kitchen shelves. All of us take turns making tortillas, feeding the stove and of course, consuming our work with delicious pride and joy. (photos: Ana and the new kitchen, Juan Luis and his tool cabinet)

Thank you to Erin Taggart and Carolyn who vowed to make a builder out of me and I aim to continue to make them proud.