¨Privileged¨

As part of our in-country orientation, the new Nicaraguan JVs spent a week in homestays with families in the barrios (neighborhoods) where we will live for the next two years, and in the campo (the word for rural Nica where farming is a dying part of life).
It´s one thing to stay with a middle-class Managua family down the street from my room. Keep in mind, of course, that midde-class in Nicaragua means you have running water (sometimes) and sometimes a fridge; forget signs of US middle-class life (cable TV, washing machine, windows, rooms etc.). Though I didn´t have a mattress and was a little wary of the cleanliness of fresh veggies I ate with my Managua homestay family, I was still within my comfort zone. I had the luxury of drinking chlorinated drinking water and could leave the house to relax in my room in the JV house if I wanted. I felt extrmely comoda y relajada with them.
The campo was a step beyond. Teh poor farming families are those who suffer most from capitalism, imprisonating--whoops, I mean ¨free¨--trade agreements, global warming, and American foreign policy. I was extremely nervous to live as they do for a few days, despite my cheery commate Sean´s smiley It´ll be like camping! assurances.
Encima de todo, what I was exposed to during my homestay was my own privilege. To be rich and educated enough to participate in JVC and thus to be with that family was a privilege in itself. Here are some more I considered:

• Water. When their simple well runs dry, they use an ancient bull to lug galloons of lagoon water from kilometers away. It broke my heart to hear Mama Candida talking about how less water means less life. Because I have a weak stomach, I drank my own water from a 2L bottle I had brought from Managua. And drinking it, however nourishing, made me feel gross inside--I can afford to protest a weak stomach. They live with the realities of parasites, bacteria, and drought. I also bathed with a bucket and realized how very superfluous showers are. (Personal challenge to readers!! Take baths instead of showers to fight water shortages and live in solidarity with the poor!!)
• A toilet, and, shall we say, reliable digestive patterns
• Refrigerated food and a varied diet. We´re talking rice and beans for at least two meals a day. Someone devour a salad for me and remind me of the taste.
• A bed, a mattress, and a quiet room at night, free from wandering chickens and bugs.
• Money. Estadounidenses talk about it all the time. Nicas, who have far less of it, never talk about it. 80% of Nicas live on less than $2 a day. As I dashed for the latrine one morning, I realized I had spent 150 cordobas (around $7) checking for healthy...digestion...a couple of days before. That´s 3X what the average Nica lives on everday. Is my stomach more important than their lives?

These are things I am privileged to have. But there´s the rub. Life isn´t about things. In the campo, I also learned about love. Campesinos share everything. They touch, hug and hold hands with acquaintances. They smile at their 18-hour work days. They love naive, bizarre visitors with impossible names like Heather. And in a way very few of us will ever understand, they live better lives. Makes me wonder...who´s really privileged in the end?

These tidbits don´t fit narratively, but I wanted to include a few verbal snapshots of the campo...

• Three birds, four dogs, a bull, four chickens and an irresistible orange kitten trek the property
• Mama Candida was explaining to me that the father of her children is never around and drinks a lot and abuses her, when I heard a pail of precious water getting kicked over behind me. I turned and saw a disheveled man, slobbering somewhat, with bloodshot eyes and a huge satchel over his shoulder. Speak of the devil. He comes to their home for lunch and dinner every day, saying nothing, and leaving quickly after eating. Probably to drink more. It was totally normal for Mama and her children, but I have never wanted to punch someone so hard in my life.
• The following crops grow a short distance from the front door: coffee, two kinds of oranges, two kinds of plantains, bananas, cilantro, jamaica, espinaca, squash.
• From their land, I saw the smoking cross-topped crater of the St. James volcano, and the angry blue ripples of the Venice lagoon. Took pictures with a disposable camera; will hopefully be able to pass them on.
• I LOVE HAMMOCKS
• My favorite food is now and forever will be fried, mature plantain. Until I get tired of it, which might happen quickly, so never mind what I said.
• We went to bed at 8:30 and woke up at 4:30 to desayunar (eat breakfast) before three kids had to take their daily two-hour trips to work and school.

That´s all for now! Know that I am still happy, healthy, safe, and learning. Trying to figure out pictures in the meantime. Stay tuned. And...send emails and letters. Or just read my blog, that makes me happier than anything.