See the extent of the madness at my new photo website.
It's an interesting time to be a peace student. I watch the tv and listen on the radio as people discuss and debate the current situation in Lebanon. What strikes me as ridiculous is how every tv network immediately lands someone onto the battelfield to bring the bloodshed into our homes. It seems unfair that we have the luxury of not only evacuating thousands of US citizens at the drop of a hat, but also that we have the luxury of sending someone into the battlefield at our own behest. For millions of people in the region, it is their life. They didn't choose to enter a conflict situation and they don't have the option of getting on a huge Greek cruiser to leave the battlefield. It is the same problem I've been having with Nicaragua and other places I have gone. How can I live with the fact that I can be airlifted to the safety of home while others simply have to deal with it? I started thinking more about this while reading Silje's blog. I think everyone should read her thoughts (click this link) because she has been to both Lebanon and Israel and is much more knowledgeable than me, and she again begs the question of inequalities and indifference. I don't have a thought or solution, but I just hope that are people are grappling with some of these questions and trying to understand what is happening...
One of the more interesting word combinations in the English language, and one of the side effects I am excited to rid myself of now that I have stopped taking malaria medicine...or maybe I should just stop eating asparagus, (yet another interesting English word).
Two important events today mark the successful transition to a relaxing summer. First, I spent 3/4ths of the day today thinking it was Thursday. I was making plans on going to Minneapolis to play frisbee tomorrow because I thought it would be Friday. It was only at supper tonight talking to my brother that I caught on to the fact that it was only Wednesday! Oh how time sinks when you are relaxed. Also, I finally achieved a goal I have had for a long time. I successfully watched both "The Godfather" and "The Godfather: Part II." I am now ready to catch on to the allusions and random references that constantly reminded me I needed to watch those classics. Life's good. Time for bed.
Saturday the Meyer family rolled out of bed early and headed to downtown Brookings for the "Beef and Eggs 5k." My dad is an avid runner, and John and I were feeling the pressure to prove to ourselves that we could still beat him in a race. It was a fun day and a great race. The competative spirit in John took over after 3k when he started running ahead. I waited until about the 4th kilometer to start picking up the pace, cruising into 83rd place after 26 minutes and 51 seconds. My dad did very well too and my mom did the race walk with bursts of spints to improve on her time from last year. After the race was over, everyone enjoyed a breakfast of, you guessed it, beef and eggs.
It's been interesting the past few days as I've told people what happened in Nicaragua. I've been surprised how uncommon it is. At the race I talked to a lady I knew who was in the Dominican Republic and had robbers burst into her hotel room at night and take stuff at gun point. I also just received an e-mail from my advisor in Norway who had something similar happen in Argentina. Crazy. I just hear the Gnarles Barkley song playing over and over. It's just frustrating to try to travel well, respecting the local culture and exploring the world without a throng of tourists, and getting punished for it. I know it does show one unfortunate side of life for millions of people, but I hate having to think twice about exploring and having to have loved ones worry when I talk about traveling anywhere outside of Europe. I've also been thinking how unfair it is that I can get on a plane and escape the situation while people living there cannot escape the conditions. I'm not sure how to use these thoughts yet, but hopefully I can channel them into something positive at some point.
My stomach and head are turning as I am struggling to adjust from a life of rice and beans to a life of steak. In the span of 18 hours on Sunday, my experience in Nicaragua was tainted and ended as I returned home to the US.
The story begins Sunday. I had spent the first four days of my time in Nicaragua just staying in the same four block radius around the church and was anxious to get out a see a little bit of the town. After going to the church service Sunday morning, I headed to the old downtown area of Managua with my guide Rachel who had been in Nicaragua for 10 months. We saw the old downtown area that was ravaged by the earthquake in 1972. There have been a few new buildings, but for the most part, the area is a reminder of the glory of Managua that was destroyed in 1972. Thousands of people were killed in the quake and the entire neighborhood destroyed. Money flowed into the country to help rebuild, but instead of using the money for rebuilding, the government pocketed the money. This extreme corruption eventually led to the revolution, but rebuilding never really took place, making Managua an unplanned city, with no central area, that snakes in all directions.
Well, Rachel and I were looking at the old cathedral and were walking 200 meters to the Park of Peace where the President in the 90's buried tons of weapons and tanks in a demonstration of the country moving away from violence. Ironic. I thought it would be a great park to check out for a peace student! I asked Rachel a few times if it was safe to walk there and she said it was fine and that she had done in multiple times. So we started walking. We took a right turn on a small street that was only 50 meters long. As we started walking, two young men about 16 years old walked around the corner. They were walking together and as they got closer one started to walk wide of us. I felt the pit in my stomach and knew what was coming. Soon, they made a dash at us, pulling out a 12 inch machete. They first went at Rachel demanding her bag and threatening with the knife. I think I could have made a dash for it and gotten away, but instead I stood there talking her through it calmly. Much too calmly. I told her just to relax and give them what they wanted. Then they came over to me and wanted money, which I stupidly had not put in my outside pocket. I should have learned that from the last time I was mugged! But, since I couldn't easily hand them money, they found my money belt and ripped it off and then found my camera hidden in a side pocket and took that. Then they ran into a taxi that was waiting for them and drove off. Numerous people were immediately there to help us and even got the number of the taxi and the license plate number. A nice man and his family in a truck gave us a ride to the police station for free.
We gave the report to the police and had to deal with the slow, apathetic response from the police. They drove us back to the scene of the crime with two other people that had been mugged only minutes after us on the other side of the Park of Peace. They made us stand in the place where the crime happened, and since none of the roads in Managua are labeled, they had to draw a small map on a peace of paper to show where it happened. After we showed where the crime happened, we went to the place where the other couple in the police car had been mugged. That was freaky. They drove us to the other side of the Park of Peace where one of the skyscrapers had collapsed during the 1972 earthquake. Instead of demolishing the ruins however, the cement remains stayed, and now people live in the cracks and crevasses left standing, often putting up a plastic sheet over a crack in the cement in order to make themselves a home. I was happy to leave as that neighborhood was one of the scariest I have ever seen in terms of safety for me and the people living there.
Well, we finally took a taxi back after telling the police that we did not want to look at their mug shots of "criminals." We got back to the place I was staying and made some phone calls to cancel credit cards and tell our parents. The whole incident was odd. It felt very methodical to me and almost like I knew that it would happen. It brought back a lot of memories of getting mugged (much more violently) in South Africa, and it was strange to be in the police station and to tell Rachel how we should fill out the police report for insurance. I just knew way too much of what to do both during and after the mugging. This time, in contrast to the experience in South Africa, I wasn't angry. In SA, I even ran after the robbers because I was so upset and frustrated, but this time it just felt normal...and I didn't like that feeling.
I sat in my room for a while thinking about it and realized that I felt that it could happen again. I was planning on traveling to Granada and know I probably would have been safe going to other areas of the country that everyone admits are more beautiful and safer than Managua, but I also know I would have had to come back to Managua to do my research and interviews. I couldn't justify just being in Nicaragua to go to the beautiful parts and not do what I came to do...and I also didn't want to deal with worrying about safety or giving up my freedom and staying only in a small neighborhood to have that safety. So, after a little meditating on it, I called my parents and had them change my ticket home. So, 170 dollars later (surprisingly cheap) and only 18 hours later, I was on the 1pm flight home from Managua, arriving home at 3am on the fourth of July. Back in America on America Day. Who would have thought?
Now I'm left to wonder if it was the right decision and what to do now. I hate the decision in one way because it feels like a cop out. I know that I could have survived and been fine, but I really didn't want to just be fine. I think I would have been frustrated not only thinking often about safety, but more so feeling confined to a small neighborhood. I think I also felt after being there that the research would not have been as fruitful as I had hoped. The church does really great things and does them quite well. The church also has support from a variety of sources, and it would have been difficult to measure the effectiveness of a South Dakota program because most people who benefit from the church benefit from the work of multiple donors and workers. Who knows, maybe the mugging was merely the push that I needed to reassess and refine my research. I hope so at least.
In terms of dealing with what happened, I am fine physically. Nothing happened, but of course it sticks in your mind. More so for me, it has brought out memories of being mugged in South Africa which was a traumatic experience that I had hoped to kind of forget. Now, I'm home which is comforting. It's great to sit outside and talk and eat with the family, but I also know that I need to figure out my next move and won't be satisfied letting my experience in Nicaragua confine me here as well. We'll see what happens.
So that's that. Nicaragua feels almost like a dream. I was there just under a week and only saw the worst parts of the country. I am frustrated I couldn't solidify my Spanish and get an accurate picture of the country, but I am glad I got to meet the people of the church and see what good things are happening there. I hope that Rachel is able to deal with the experience. I feel bad leaving her and the people at the church, but I felt the pit in my stomach that was telling me that I had to go. I didn't listen to it and the mugging happened, so I figured that now I should listen to it. Who knows, maybe I'm just hungry.
Well, be safe everyone, especially all those peaceful friends in the far corners of the world. I hope you can all successfully arrive at the Park of Peace.
A new adventure has begun: Nicaragua! I arrived Wednesday at 7.30pm to 92 degree weather. I was picked up at the airport by Rachel, who is an American working with the Lutheran Church in Nicaragua, and their mechanic Arnoldo who promptly drove me through the sprawling urban area that is Managua. Managua has had a rough couple decades with an earthquake that devasted the city center and then 10 years of civil war, and due these events it no longer has a main area. Instead it´s a collection of communities sprawled next to a lake.
Arnoldo and Rachel got me to my hotel two blocks from the church which had a great sign in front that said "Bed and Break Fats." I ended up with a great room and head out the next morning to the church.
The church here in Managua is the reason I´m here...i guess i should explain that. The South Dakota Lutheran Church and the church in Nicaragua have a partnership in which SD helps Nica with projects and sends money and visitors. I´m here to check it out and hopefully discover if the programs are meeting the needs of the people here. So, thursday was my first day with the church and what a day it was! It was the bishop´s birthday and we had two celebratory meals and a church service led by the youth. The thing that stood out the most was the energy (and definitely not tone) of the singing at church. It was a struggle and yelling became the best solution.
Today was World Cup day of course! after squatting around a tiny black and white tv so that the church workers would still be on duty during the game, we finally made a dash before overtime of the argentine and germany game. we ran across teh street to a house turned into a restaurant. they served and sold food from their kitchen and had seating on their veranda. well, the smart nicas i was with got some food and pulled the chairs up to teh window of the house so we could watch the big color tv in their living room! eventually the entire veranda was peering through the windows of the house watching the penalty kicks right alongside the family! Mi casa es su casa i guess.
Tomorrow I´m celebrating National Youth Day by playing games with a bunch of the church youth and Sunday I´ll hit up a service and youth meeting. Then, on Monday I will head down to Granada where I will begin four weeks of spanish class and will live with a family. I wish that i had the language now! I´m doing alright, but i definitely want to have a good handle on spanish before i come back so i can get to know everyone better.
So yeah, nica is good thus far. The one thing that stands out right now is that it reminds me a lot of tanzania. same type of signs, same plastic furniture at restaurants, same pace, a ton of pharmacies, people standing around a lot, and the same heat. I don´t want to be comparing already because i know that it will probably end up being very different, but i´m amazed how much that experience still influences me.
a few other thigns that really stand out: for the low pressure icon on the weather, they have a b...which makes sense in spanish, but it´s funny to see the u.s. map and see a huge B swirling around SD. Also, in my hotel i get ESPN Desportes (spanish espn) and when they show baseball stats, everything is backwards, so instead of going 2-4, joe mauer goes 4-2. that´ll help out the old average!
whew. a lot in a little time...i´ll be updating with more stories less facts as i get settled and begin to get my head around nica. in the meantime, off to have my fifth serving of rice and beans, and I still like it!
