Midnight Journey to the Other Side (of Nicaragua)

Our bus left Managua at 4:30 in the afternoon, heading for the mining towns of Rosita and Bonanza on the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua. If all went well, we would be in Rosita a little after dawn the next morning. Thirteen bumpy hours, traveling dark roads through the heart of Nicaragua in a cramped, crowded, converted school-bus. We were traveling with our friend Sonia to the most remote cluster of churches of La Misión Cristiana to participate in the theological education classes in that region. Or rather, Laura Jean and Sonia were going to teach, I was going for fun. Our final destination was called, appropriately enough, El Retiro -- which means "The Retreat" in Spanish.

Fast & Furious, our aptly named bus

Our route took us through Boaco, then a late dinner in Muy Muy, although we decided not to eat or drink much, worrying about the rumored lack of bathroom breaks. As it turned out we did stop in Río Blanco and Siuna, and later along the road when the bus got a flat. Beyond Río Blanco the pavement gave out. Although every seat was full when we left Managua, amazingly, they kept adding more passengers as the night went on. The center aisle of the bus was filled with upturned buckets and plastic stools for the extra passengers to sit on, until every last possible space was filled.

There were chickens and puppies traveling with us, and giant sacks of beans. The bus stopped occasionally to deliver packages to random farmhouses along the route. We traveled the whole night blasting music from loudspeakers, perhaps to keep the driver awake as we barreled through the dark, feeling every single rut and pothole. Almost as loud was the wind from the open windows, which also brought the 2 a.m. cold and the smell of diesel exhaust. By morning I almost could taste it.

It was, as you might imagine, a pretty uncomfortable night. The spacing of the seats was slightly less than the length of my thigh bone, meaning that I was unable to sit normally facing forward and spent the night twisting from one side to another, jamming my knees into cracks, trying to find a comfortable position. Laura Jean's seat was on top of the wheel well, making it even worse. Nothing we tried seemed to help for long. Allegedly I did drift off to sleep at some point because I awoke as the sun was peeking over the horizon, my eyes gunked over and woozy from the motion.

We rolled into Rosita at 5:30 a.m. Our instructions were to head directly to the bus terminal and grab the 6 a.m. bus to Kukalaya. The latrines were locked and nothing was open for breakfast, so we boarded the bus and kept moving forward.

Unfortunately, that bus was stopped in the next town of Susun. It turns out that some local farmers were staging a huelga (a strike or protest). We got off the bus, a little confused, but someone told us that if we walked through the town we could catch another bus on the other side. Upon crossing a wooden bridge we saw a crowd of thirty or so men, armed with machetes and clubs. They had dragged branches and pieces of wood across the road and were stopping and turning around all vehicle traffic -- public buses and private pickup trucks alike. They didn't seem to have any problem with pedestrian traffic and we climbed over with no problems.

Walking.

(We found out later what the dispute was about. The government has protected a large section of northern Nicaragua as the Bosawas Reserve. Large sections of the park are still pristine forest, home to indigenous groups such as the Mayagna. However, since the government has almost no ability to police the area, other poor landless farmers have squatted on Mayagna land, burning down the forest and planting crops. Tensions between the Mayagnas and the settlers have spiked in recent weeks, leading to the murder of one Mayagna leader and calls for government intervention. Apparently the people blocking the roads in Susun were the landless squatters hoping to force the government to recognize them. You can read a bit more about the conflict here and here.)

On the other side of the barricades we waited for a while at a pulperia with some other displaced travelers, waiting for the mythical bus and wondering what to do. The sun was getting hot, even thought it wasn't yet 8 in the morning. Once we saw that the protesters were setting up new barricades to trap vehicles coming from the other direction, Sonia said that we should set off walking. And so we bought some water and headed out, not entirely sure how far we had to go to reach our destination.

Waiting for the bus.

Our walking companions were a woman named Elizabet and her 3 kids, who looked like they ranged from age 6 to 10. They were heading in our direction and took turns carrying a heavy bag of red beans. They were extremely cheerful traveling companions, the kids were uncomplaining and told funny jokes about how we should just commandeer some bicycles to finish our trek. We knew that we were heading for a cluster of towns called California, El Black or Riscos de Oro, depending on who you talked to. Supposedly the presbitero for the northern region, José Adan, was going to meet us there and travel on farther with us.

We saw multiple buses heading in the opposite direction, but none ever returned to pick us up. We figured that the protesters had stopped them and even prevented them from turning around. So we kept walking. Sonia insisted that we had to keep moving ahead, and it was great advice, although at the time we wondered. We also noticed that this part of Nicaragua, more so than anywhere we have visited, was suffering from a terrible deforestation-- the jungle transformed by slash-and-burn agriculture into broad fields and cattle pasture. Specifically for us, this meant that there was hardly any shade and after an hour or two of walking we were hot, thirsty and sunburned.

Evidence that I've been on a horse!

Around 11 a.m. we arrived at a crossroads and found many people waiting for buses that weren't going to appear. There were a couple of pickup trucks around, but they were charging exorbitant rates, so we steeled ourselves to keep walking, even though the hottest part of the day was coming up. Someone told us that California was a 2-3 hour walk from where we were. Sonia rallied us and we pushed on ahead.

Very quickly our perseverance was rewarded. A pickup truck packed with people approached and in the passenger seat was José Adan. Hearing that we had been walking, he and the other hermanos from the church mobilized some transportation and came in search of us. We had never been so happy to see a friendly face. We piled in the truck and arrived in Riscos de Oro in no time. There we got to sit down and have some lunch with José Adan, meet his family and some of the other church members (who were themselves traveling back to El Retiro from an event at a different church).

Slash-and-burn.

After lunch, we piled once more into the pickup and made the hour-long trip to the Río Kukalaya. The pickup somehow managed to hold almost 20 people. It was a surprisingly fun trip, even given that I was exhausted and holding on for dear life. People laughed and told jokes, enjoying the wind and the carefree sense hanging off the back of a pickup. Everyone said that we were traveling norteño style. The landscape continued to show severe signs of slash-and-burn deforestation, and we even passed some fields that were still smoldering. However, one stretch of the road was seemingly untouched forest, and José Adan said that it was owned by a lumber company that was actively reforesting its lands and trying to manage the forest somewhat sustainably.

Arriving in El Retiro.

We arrived at the Río Kukalaya, which was at low ebb, and crossed it in a dugout canoe, pushed by a small boy. On the other side we mounted up on horses (a first for me!) and rode for about an hour to another river, crossed it and found ourself in El Retiro just as the late afternoon sun was bathing it in a golden glow. El Retiro is a beautiful green space, not heavily forested, with wooden houses raised up on stilts and spaced well apart from each other. After traveling through half-burned fields for hours, it seemed like a true refuge in comparison.

We stayed in the house of Pastor Secundino. After 24 hours of straight travel, and 48 hours of being awake, we went directly to the nearby river, called the Río Rarawas, to clean off the dust and the grime. The water was warm, but miraculously refreshing. After that we ate dinner, watched the fireflies come out and collapsed into bed.

The River.

Quem ama abraça (S/he who loves, Embraces)

Here's a music video that's been making the rounds at the university. It was shown as part of our "Women and Climate Change" event from December (which I mentioned here, and still hope to post more about). It's a Brazilian video in support of a campaign against violence against women (kind of a "We Are The World"-style collaboration). The title is "Quem Ama Abraça", which (I think) is Portuguese for "S/he who loves, Embraces." Plus, it's pretty catchy.

Good Movies about Latin America

I was asked recently about which movies I would recommend about Latin America. I'm certainly not an expert on the topic, but I did want to highlight two, especially since they are not that well known: Men With Guns and Burn!

John Sayles is an independent American writer and director who has made some fantastic films in his time (Eight Men Out, Lone Star, and especially Matewan) but Men With Guns is one of his best. The story concerns a well-to-do doctor who lives in the capital city of some unnamed Latin American country. Initially unaware of the dirty war being waged by his government in the rural areas, he sets off into the campo in search of two of his students who disappeared while working at a rural medical clinic. He enters into a world where the poor, indigenous people are preyed upon by hombres armados on all sides. Trekking deeper and deeper into the jungle and the conflict, he leaves behind his comfortable world until he hears a rumor that his last student has taken refuge -- high up in the mountains -- in a village that has never known violence.

Sayles' style is very simple, almost primitive. The doctor's quest is not explicitly religious, but contains powerful currents of a spiritual quest as well as a search for personal redemption. Sayles doesn't much go in for the sort of magical realist imagery that the Latin American setting might suggest, but he reaches for universal truths and manages to grasp them. A sad movie, but thoughtful and moving.

The Italian director Gillo Pontecorvo is most famous for The Battle of Algiers, his dissection of colonialism and terrorism in the Algerian civil war. In Burn! he once again tackles the topic of colonialism, focusing on the way the colonial powers managed to maintain economic control even as their colonies were achieving independence. The film stars Marlon Brando as a British agent sent to a Portuguese colony (loosely based on Guadeloupe) to foment an independence movement that would open up the region to British trade. After a successful revolution, he returns ten years later to put down another revolt led by his former compañeros.

Brando gives a typically great performance as the charismatic, amoral British agent, as does Evaristo Márquez as the rebel leader. The film's analysis of colonialism is sharp and cynical, but makes for an exciting and fascinating story.

There are several other good films that are pretty topical. Although I haven't watched it in years, The Mission was beautiful and sad, telling the story of Jesuit missionaries in South America who stand with a Guarani tribe against the onslaught of the conquistadores. The story of El Salvador's Archbishop Óscar Romero is so inherently compelling that the film version (starring Raul Julia) is worth watching despite being kind of mediocre. And because not everything is about war and death, I'm a big fan of Alfonso Cuarón's Y Tu Mamá También, which is heartfelt and charming (but, you know, very sexually explicit and NSFW).

Nicaragua itself doesn't produce very many films, although that is starting to change. One recent local film that I've been really wanting to see is La Yuma, a drama about a female boxer that was a big hit down here a few years ago and became only the 6th Central American film to be submitted to the Oscars for competition in the Best Foreign Film category.

If anyone knows any other good films about Latin America (especially comedies!), please leave them in the comments!

Celebrations

We wrote a short reflection for the Global Ministries website, summarizing what we and our partners have been up to lately and looking forward to what will be our last year here in Nicaragua. If you've been reading the blog it shouldn't be too surprising, but you can read it here.

Sixteen Steps (Learning from Partners) / 16 pasos (aprendiendo de La Misión Cristiana)

By now, most of you have probably heard me say that mission in the 21st century is a two-way street. It has been my experience that we have as much or more to learn from our partners in mission than we have to teach or offer them.  In this spirit, I offer a powerful framework for resolving conflicts.  These principles can be applied to any conflict, in a family, at work, in a church or other organization.

Creo que ya me han escuchado decir que la misión en el siglo XXI es un camino de doble via.  En mi experiencia, podemos aprender de los que acompañamos en la misión más de lo que podemos enseñar o ofrecer a ell@s.  En este espírito, les ofrezco unos pasos muy poderosos para resolver conflictos.  Estos principios se pueden aplicar a cualquier conflicto, que sea dentro de la familia, en el trabajo, en la iglesia u otro organismo.

These 16 steps come from a course on "Human Relations and Conflict Transformation," which was prepared by our friend Carlos Sediles Real, a Nicaraguan theologian and member of La Misión Cristiana.  It is one of the topics in our curriculum for Ministerial Formation (popular education in theology and skills for ministry for church lay and pastoral leaders). 

Los 16 pasos se encuentran en un módulo sobre "Relaciones Humans y La Transformación de Conflictos," preparado por nuestro amigo Carlos Sediles Real, teólogo nicaraguense y miembro de La Misión.  Estudiamos este módulo en el programa de Formación Ministerial (lo cual es educación popular en la teología y herramientas de los ministerios para lideres de la iglesia).

1. Define the issues you are trying to resolve.
2. Divide the problem into distinct components and try to resolve them individually.
3. Don't speak for another person or for the group.
4. Don't jump from one issue to another.
5. Separate the problem from the person.
6. Clarify the interests of each person.
7.  Identify the interests you have in common.
8. Define in concrete terms the basic needs of each person that should be included in the agreement.
9. Determine the minimum that is necessary for you to be satisfied.
10. Try to find the possible solutions that could work for both parties.
11. Don't evaluate the solutions immediately.
12. Make a list of solutions.
13. Consider solutions that others have found in similar situations.
14. Test the solutions in a tentative and positive way.
15. Make agreements about a fundamental principle to use as a basis for evaluating possible solutions.
16. Agree on a procedure to resolve the problem.

1. Delimitar los asuntos a tratar.
2. Fraccionar el problema en distintos componentes y tratar de resolverlos individualmente.
3. No hablar por la otra persona o por el grupo.
4. No se debe ir saltando de un asunto a otro.
5. Separar el problema de la persona.
6. Aclarar los intereses.
7. Identificar los que tienen en común.
8. Concretar las necesidades básicas de cada uno/a que deben formar parte del acuerdo.
9. Determinar lo mínimamente necesario para estar satisfecho/a.
10. Esforzarse por encontrar las posibles soluciones que pueden servir a ambos.
11. No Evaluar las soluciones inmediatas.
12. Generar una lista de soluciones.
13. Considerar soluciones que hayan manejado otros en situaciones parecidas.
14. Probar las soluciones en forma positiva y tentativa.
15. Establecer acuerdos sobre algún principio fundamental en cual va a basarse para evaluarlas.
16. Establecer acuerdos criterios del procedimiento a seguir para resolver el problema.

May all your conflicts be opportunities for growth and learning!
¡Qué todos sus conflictos sean oportunidades para crecer y aprender!

City of Trees

Our first week in Managua, we were taken around on a tour of the city by one of La Misión's pastors who drives a taxi. One stop was the lookout point at the Laguna de Tiscapa, which gives a panoramic view of the city. I remember saying to our friend, ¡Qué verde! (How green it is!). He replied that yes, Managua was a very green city, especially in the rainy season (although it gets pretty amarillo in the summer).

Downtown Managua

When viewed from on high, Managua doesn't much look like a city of almost 2 million people. It looks like a small residential town or a federation of small neighborhoods. Here and there a few tall, modern buildings poke through the canopy of greenery and low tin roofs, but they are the exception. This state of affairs has a lot to do with Managua's unusual history and its distinct lack of central planning. Many Managua neighborhoods began as informal encampments in the years following the earthquake and the revolution and the lean war years. As Stephen Kinzer noted during the 1980s:

"...since the 1972 earthquake Managua had ceased to be a real urban area. Exotic animals like iguanas and bats and hummingbirds were common there, and farm animals roamed freely. Most Managuans were only a generation or two removed from the farm, if that, and when food became expensive and scarce, they thought nothing of keeping livestock in the vacant lots that surrounded their homes. The animals were not penned or tethered, and could often be seen moseying along main streets and standing in public plazas, as if they were waiting for the remaining humans to leave so they could have Managua for themselves." (Blood of Brothers, p. 169).

Managua hasn't yet returned to the state of nature, but it does turn out that people love trees -- they give shade and fruit -- and prefer to keep them around given the opportunity. Although people love trees, developers don't. Trees complicate electrical cables and water lines and cut into the profit margin, which is why housing developments in the U.S. always seem to scrape the land bare before they start building. When we visited San Salvador, that city also seemed to be a concrete jungle, clearly more developed and wealthier than Managua, but much less green.

That first week, we were also amused to find out that the street we live on was divided in two by an enormous mango tree, planted right smack dab in the middle of the road, preventing any through traffic.  (The other entrance to our street is blocked by a memorial to a local kid who died fighting in the revolution.) Cars and motorcycles do come down the street, but it isn't easy. Here too, history is important. Our neighborhood was built back in the '60s, and originally the narrow streets were designed as pedestrian alleys or walking spaces. Many residents used the common space for trees or gardens or public sitting areas. As cars have become more common, many of these andenes have been paved over, little by little with a patchwork of varieties of hand-mixed concrete. All so people can park their car right next to their house. A friend who lived here years before us told me a story about the civil disobedience carried out by some of the neighborhood abuelitas when the decision was made to pave over their gardens.

We also have two mango trees in our backyard, which provide us with shade, hammock space and a seasonal deluge of thumps on the roof. There are two varieties of mango (Mangifera indica) here and ours is the type that doesn't usually get sold in the markets. But it is still pretty delicious, and once they ripen, every chavalo in the neighborhood seems to be climbing trees (or throwing rocks) to bring down the harvest. The peak comes in March, and usually comes too fast for us to consume all the bounty. In fact, there are weeks where we are mostly concerned with carting sacks of rotting mangos out to the trash pickup. I never would have thought I could get sick of eating mangos, but the smell of rotting fruit can do that to you.

A few months after our arrival, our neighbor had their mango tree trimmed. And when I say trimmed I mean violently hacked down to a mere stump about the height of a person. At first I was shocked and a little heartbroken. It was a lovely tree and shaded part of our porch. Why cut it down? I was reassured that it would grow back, but I had my doubts. In California where I grew up, you can't cut a tree down to a stump like that and expect it to survive. There was a sad incident where an oak tree in my grandmother's backyard was cut down to a stump due to a miscommunication with the tree trimmers. And it never grew back.

Of course, California is a desert; things work differently in the tropics, where water is abundant and bursting fecundity is the rule. And sure enough the neighbor's palo grew back in no time. This past week the grand-daddy mango in the center of the street came due for a haircut. The trimmers came and cut it back to a stump the shape of a gnarled fist (at right). We also gave our two mangos a bit of a trim, although not as drastic. Right now there is hardly any shade on our house and we can feel the difference. So once again we're hoping that the rains come soon and the trees re-sprout, putting forth shady, leafy green once more.

A Correr

I ran my first race in Nicaragua this past weekend -- a 10 kilometer (6.2 mile) run hosted by Managua Runners, the local running club. Between a new country and a new baby, running had fallen off the front burner for our first few years here, but since the new year we've been making an effort to get out and get training. As you might imagine, the biggest obstacle to running here in Nicaragua is the heat. Running during the day is pretty much a no-no and many Nicas will run at 5 a.m. to take advantage of the early morning cool. (Note: we are not that ambitious...)

The starting line (photo: Managua Runners)

Anyway, the race was a lot of fun. I had missed the excitement of the starting line, of being in a big group of runners, jittery with adrenaline, music blasting. I had been nursing a mild head cold for a few days (just my luck) and was worried I might have to skip the race, which would have been a bummer. Sunday morning I was feeling only about 80%, energy-wise, but decided to go ahead and run anyway. The race started at 7 a.m. and the heat wasn't too bad, at least at the start, although an hour later, as we were finishing, was another story.

For those who know Managua, here's the route (click for map). It started off from Centro Pellas with a long uphill stretch up the Carretera Masaya, then followed by a long downhill. There was a long stretch without shade towards the end (near the Universidad Centro America) where the heat suddenly hit you, but thankfully the bomberos (firefighters) were there to spray us with the firehose. And then back to the start to collect your complementary banana and unlimited bottles of water. In the end, I finished in 58:08 for a 9:22 mile pace and placed 145th out of 413 runners. Originally, I was hoping to get under a 9:00 pace, but in the end I was happy just to be out there.