jcrowe01 – Page 32 – Tisch Global Jumbos

September 20, 2016April 1, 2021

Living on Nica Time

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by Mateo, Tufts 1+4 Participant

As of today, I have officially lived in León, Nicaragua for a whopping two weeks! Granted, that’s not all that much time in the scheme of things, but I’m already beginning to notice so much about the culture that exists here. From the food and the language, to basic things such as how people greet each other, it’s truly the myriad of rich cultural differences that add up to make life here so unique. However, with that being said there are also a lot of differences that aren’t necessarily all that great, or rather are just—different. For me, the most difficult transition has been accepting the way that time functions here in Latin America.

As an individual, I am the type of person that has to have every aspect of my day organized. I wear a wristwatch, have two agendas (because let’s face it, one is not enough), and you can bet I have a five-year plan. However, here in Nicaragua, if you ask someone what they’re going to be doing later in the day, chances are they won’t even know the answer to that. Everything here is done in the moment.

At first this was very hard for me, especially when I’d go into stores and expect workers to come rushing to help me as if they’d been anticipating my arrival for several days. However, I was sorely disappointed and found out that things here run more on an “eventually” schedule. This attitude spills over into all aspects of life, and coming from the land of ‘everything on-the-go,’ I even had trouble learning how to sit and enjoy my own breakfast.

Interestingly enough, somewhere amidst this paradigm shift, I think I had my first ever existential crisis during my Bridge-Year. I was reading in the living room late at night with my host brother nearby, and stopped for half an hour thinking about what it meant to ‘be’. Before then, it never occurred to me how important it was to be mindful of what I was experiencing right in the moment.

Just before going to bed, I wrote this in my journal:

“I want to BE, to be present, to exist in the here and now. I want to take in each and every breath as it is, and to feel the swelling in my lungs as my chest expands and fills with life!”

If being in Nicaragua has taught me anything thus far, it’s that life is happening right now. It isn’t just some aspiration or goal that you hope to achieve far off into the future. When I leave this place I hope I can remember how to exist in the present, but as for now I’m not too worried, because in this moment I am here.

September 8, 2016April 1, 2021

León Scavenger Hunt

by Sawyer, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Today we were given some time to explore what León has to offer on a poppin’ Saturday afternoon. The objective was to get to know the city through a series of monumentally derived activities. Take a walk in my shoes, get lost with me, and witness the wonders of a vibrant city. León, Nicaragua, I am starting to fall in love with you.

As the leader of the Modernismo literacy movement, Nicaraguan poet Rubén Darío made a generational influence on Spanish literature. Mr. Darío even has his own street, coined Calle Rubén Darío, littered with many dedications throughout. Below is a plaque in the Rubén Darío Museum, commemorating him by his original nickname “Poeta Niño,” or Boy Poet in English.

Churches

If you happen to ever get lost in León, look around until you find the nearest church. Trust me, they’re everywhere! I don’t mean lost as in finding Jesus, however, in such a Catholic based community that may be an option, but rather utilizing these feats of architecture to navigate around the city. Take a look at a few of these beauties below.

sawyer5 — Marching band at The Cathedral

Monuments

In León, it’s too hot to spend your time walking around a museum. That’s probably why they have so many historical monuments outside. No matter where you are, there’s history waiting to be heard. These dedications add to the ambiance of the local squares. Below are some examples.

One word: Raspado. I learned from a local tonight that there are two seasons in León, the summer and the harsh summer. I am currently living in the summer and it’s already unbearable. Can it really get worse than this? Luckily I learned about Raspado, which is basically shaved ice. You can get it from a local vender in Central Park, which is right outside of the Cathedral. There are also different flavors you can choose from, I got dulce de leche, or caramel. This is the best snack to cool you down internally, I think it will become my best friend over these next 9 months.

Murals

Looking for artistic inspiration? That muse will not fall short in León. Adding to the atmosphere of the city, there are random murals to gaze at. Part of the scavenger hunt was to pose in front of them. Check ’em out.

All in all, my experience scoping out León was very successful. The people here are so welcoming, though I think they overcharge me at the market, most likely because I’m chele. As I continuously get more eager to move into my host family, I have to complete my training with Amigos de las Americas over the next few days. I hope to check back in as soon as possible. Adio. (Nicaraguans don’t usually pronounce the s)

June 20, 2016April 1, 2021

How Not to Miss Nicaragua: A Short Guide

by Isabel, Tufts 1+4 Participant

Don’t be surprised by all of the different smells. The pine and grass and carpet instead of dust and mango and the cleaning fluid everyone used.

When you hear the sound of a lawnmower don’t mistake it for the fumigation that happened regularly in León.

Try not to die of hypothermia in the 70 (or 80… or 90) degree weather. And don’t talk about how cold you are. Just be glad you’re not sweating out of your clothes.

When you walk down an empty street don’t remember how in León an empty street meant it was probably raining. Or like 2 in the morning or something. Don’t think about all the street vendors and school children and abuelos you would see on your walk to the bus station. Don’t long for that extra human factor added to the landscape that made it so much more interesting and vibrant.

Don’t speak in Spanish to strangers. Also try and remember that strangers who overhear your conversations in English can now understand you.

When you put your laundry in the washer don’t think about the lavendero where you washed your clothes for nine months. Don’t remember the clothes lines loaded with colorful shirts waving in the breeze, and how you could tell who was doing the washing by the way it sounded.

When your mom wants you to try on some new earrings try not to overreact, refusing because the earrings you have in now are from Nicaragua and you’ll never take them out because that would mean you had moved on. Try on the new earrings. Your gap year experience is more than just a pair of jewelry.

Don’t listen to all the Spanish songs you love and cry because they remind you of how your host family always had music on, of how they used to sing karaoke, of how they would sing and dance.

Don’t think about all the Nicaraguan food you won’t have anymore – the gallo pinto, the nacatamales, the repocheta and cuajada and pithaya and sopa Indio Viejo. Don’t think about Sunday mornings in the kitchen with your family, or squeezing oranges for juice at work. Do remember all those times you longed for American food and appreciate it now that you have it.

Don’t let the deafening silence keep you from falling asleep. And don’t strain your ears for the sounds of reggaeton, the neighbors baby, the dog down the street, or your family doing the washing, all of which were simply a part of your life not too long ago.

But mostly, ignore all the dont’s on this list (except for maybe the Spanish one. That’s kind of important). Do them anyways. Miss Nicaragua. Miss it with all your heart. Talk about it till your friends are tired of hearing about it. Then talk about it some more. Cry. Sob. As much and long as you need. Don’t be afraid of that horrible lonely aching feeling – that just means that what you experienced was real. And don’t, don’t, don’t ever let anyone tell you to get over it. It will get better – maybe not soon but someday. So until then look at all your pictures. Remember and try to write down the best stories. Laugh. Cry. Take some deep breaths. And take it one day at a time. Or one hour. Or ten seconds.

May 17, 2016April 1, 2021

Hygge+Growing Pains= Height

by Madeline, Tufts 1+4 Participant

This jacket is my bear. My bear was bought for 16 euro on a sunny Sunday morning to the music of the bustling Rastro market. The Rastro is a flea market where everything from hammers to artisan pottery to bear jackets are sold. Every Sunday in Madrid, the streets of Tirso de Molina and La Latina are filled with Europe’s finest strolling up and down the crowded calles. You can find anything your heart desires for a relatively reasonable price. But back to my bear.

Madrid’s city symbol is a bear leaning up against a tree because Madrid used to have tons of bears roaming around its fields and forests. Other than the enormous statue in the center of the city that everyone uses as a meeting spot before going out, you’d never really know to care. For me, after I brought my new jacket home to Calle Los Mesejo, my roommates immediately began calling it the bear. It definitely had something to do with the fact that it is absolutely giant, fuzzy, and black. For me, it symbolizes my back and forth love affair with Madrid. When I am wearing my bear I am the warmest and coziest I can be. There’s a word in Danish, hygge, that goes far beyond our definition of cozy. It’s cozy X10. That’s how bear makes me feel. But, that is not always how Madrid has made feel. There have been many days throughout the year where I have longed for the warmth of my bed in Buffalo- the comfort of my childhood home and family. Madrid was foreign. My friends weren’t here. I only half understood the language. Work in the foster home challenged me every day. I felt far, far away from hygge. But then I would realize, that is the challenge of growing.

Madrid - Puerto del Sol — Madrid – Puerto del Sol

Do you remember laying in bed when you were little suffering from evil growing pains? The aching and the soreness that seemed like it would never ever end. But then one day, you’d look in the mirror and think… wow, maybe I have gotten a little taller. Or grandma would measure you against the growth chart and there would be a huge gap from your last spurt. Right now, I am looking in the mirror with my life measuring me, and I cannot help but see that I really have grown. It’s all the obvious things… I’m more confident. I can speak with much more fluency in Spanish. I feel needed and useful at work. I can travel Europe with ease. I maneuver my way around an enormous city all alone. I went from high school SAT prep to Europe adapted, adult social work in real time. At the beginning, they asked us how we wanted to change and grow from this year. My BS answer was always “I want to be fluent in Spanish.” I didn’t know what to say because I just wanted to experience it without a plan. Traveling as much as I did had a huge impact on my growth. Mostly, however, it was the social situations in Madrid and the work with the girls that gave me growing pains and, in turn, the height.

Moving to a new country, making friends and adapting to a completely new work environment were crucial but hard. For both of these challenges, I was incredibly fortunate to have my bear, but mostly Eva, the seven year old girl in the foster home. Because of scheduling, she is the one I tend to spend the most time with. Before this September, she had never been to school, the doctors, or the dentist. Her father passed away from an overdose in February 2015, and she was left an orphan because no one knows where her mother is. She didn’t know how to read. She’d never done a math problem. She was a seven year old four year old. This year, Eva has become my best friend. We have both grown so much this year, and we’ve been able to do it together. We learned to read in Spanish together. When I teach her something, she teaches me something. We love dancing around to flamenco music and drawing princesses. We can talk about almost anything and we love to go on the swings. She has brought out my inner kid every single day while still shocking me with her natural maturity and sassy intellect. She is soo bright, hilarious and innocently pure. She made my transition through my growing pains bearable on the days that I really struggled. And I think I helped make her transition into living in a foster home and education a bit smoother. I am so lucky to have made a best friend as beautifully as I have with Eva.

Leaving Spain in two and a half weeks doesn’t seem real. I am going to miss Eva and all of the girls so so much. I am going to miss being hygge in my apartment with my roommates who are now my family. I am going to miss everything about Madrid and yet am so incredibly thankful for this experience. And even though the growing pains hurt like hell some days, I have a lot of height to show for it. I am so lucky to have spent time in this city, in my bear.

May 9, 2016April 1, 2021

El Fin

by Gongga, Tufts 1+4 Participant

It’s May, the month when I’m supposed to go home, even though it feels like I don’t have a very vivid concept of where home is anymore. I don’t know if I should consider Tibet my home, where all my family’s from, or Chengdu, the place where I spent most of my childhood. Maybe it was New York, where I changed under massive cultural shock, or Somerville, where I spent three years of high school and am about to spend my college years. In some ways, every single one of those places were home to me, yet none of them really stands out as strongly anymore as Madrid does – the one place where I felt the happiest, the most comfortable and have experienced the most growth.

I don’t want to go back home. I hate saying goodbye, I don’t want to have to change lifestyles all over again. I’ve never been good at saying goodbye, and never have made strong attachments with loved ones, because I’ve always had to move so often in my life. That made me become a little closed off from others so I never would get hurt. But now I want to experience everything as much as I can, to live, not to regret having missed out.

This is why I chose 1+4: to once again change my current concept of life, to not just feel comfortable where I am, but to challenge myself to do something I’d only ever thought about, but never had the courage to do. Madrid is the place where for the first time I felt free, independent and alive. I did so many things that I never felt capable of doing. I experienced such a diversity of culture in my year abroad in Europe that I’d never encountered when I was in the U.S. It is true that the U.S. is the melting pot of cultural diversity, but the difference for me between the U.S. and Europe is that I was “stuck” with a similar group of people in the U.S. who resembled me, like Asian students or even just high school students. This was one of the reasons why I loved to volunteer in high school, so that I could have an opportunity to meet people outside of my comfort zone.

I loved my travels alone in Europe which at the beginning surprised many of my peers. I’m no longer that shy Asian girl who only cares about her grades; I’m no longer that quiet Asian girl who only speaks out loud in class, but not to her peers; I’m no longer that hesitant Asian girl who only had ideas in her mind yet never really tried to make them happen. Traveling in Europe gave me the opportunity to meet so many different kinds of people from a variety of backgrounds and ages. I learned so many things from them that I would never have learned in school. I gained so much more than I could ever have imagined in this gap year. I have a clearer mind set about the future that I want to have. I feel more motivated to work even harder to achieve what I want in life. I realized that life is for living now and not for worrying about things that might happen. I also gained a family, my Los Mesejo family and my 1+4 family. The three Spain Fellows and me are now just like family. I feel comfortable enough with them that I can just run into them casually and give them a big kiss on the cheek when I see them and share with them about my work and my travels. Though I only spent one short week with the other Fellows, even then, we grew so close as a group, and the bond that we had is even stronger now because we all went through this transformative period in our lives together in different countries.

Lastly, I just want to say thank you to all the teachers, the mentors, and counselor in Somerville High School. I don’t think I would be who I am today without their help. Their encouragement, understanding and passion for teaching helped me transition well from New York to Somerville. Two cities that are so different in terms of size and culture. I also want to say thank you to Jessye and Mindy for making this program possible. To thank them for always being there to support us in good and bad times, and for giving me this opportunity to do something that I believe is the best decision that I made so far in my life.

Al final es un nuevo comienzo, the end is a new beginning. My ending in Madrid is my beginning in Boston. I’m glad that I started this journey here, and now, forever in my heart, Madrid will always be waiting for me to come back home.

May 2, 2016April 1, 2021

Semana Santa in Nicaragua

by Isabel, Tufts 1+4 Participant

My Semana Santa was split between some Caribbean islands and León. The one a tranquil blue and green paradise, the other a vibrant colorful city, bursting with culture and traditions.

I spent five days in the Corn Islands with five other volunteers, from Saturday to Wednesday, although the first and last days were taken up with travel, which looked something like this: Taxi to the bus station in León (20 cordobas) bus to Managua (54 cordobas, make sure you tell the driver to let you off at UCA, because that’s not the last stop), taxi to the airport (shouldn’t be more than 100 cords), flight to Big Corn Island ($197 round trip), taxi to the docks (20 cords), panga to little corn ($6), and finally a short walk to the hostel. We stayed at The Green House, a nice little hostel close to everything. When we had revived somewhat we went out to dinner and thus began our Caribbean adventure. The next few days were a whirlwind of relaxation. A contradiction in terms, but an accurate description. We hiked around the tiny island, swam in the clear blue tropical water, went snorkeling, and drank and ate everything coconut. We also got very thoroughly sunburnt, despite applying what felt like gallons of sunscreen, but it was worth it.

I also got to experience a little bit of the backpacker life – cooking my own food, completely creating my own schedule – and it was nice. But definitely takes some getting used to. Something else that took getting used to was the English/Spanish dilemma. Most islanders are bilingual, and some actually prefer English, it being their first language. If I was spoken to I would respond in the same language, but when initiating a conversation I never knew which language to choose. Often I would try Spanish, only to get a response in English. But between the two we all managed to cobble together an understanding. The whole trip was an amazing experience, filled with friends and laughter, and, like all good vacations, it felt far too short.

If you go:
• Get coconut bread from Esther’s – the sign saying best coconut bread on the island doesn’t lie.
• Electricity only works between 1pm and 6 am, so get internet things done then.
• Make the hike to Yamaya beach – the little slice of paradise connected to the $400 a night hotel. Don’t worry, it’s free.

But what I came back to was amazing in its own way. Semana Santa in León is full of processions. Long events where people walk the streets carrying ‘floats’ with depictions of Jesus or the Virgin Mary, and are accompanied by a very somber band. These processions can last for hours, and in my opinion are best witnessed as they pass by rather than as an active participant. The main event, however, are the sawdust carpets – intricate drawings on the streets made entirely of colored sawdust. While you can find the carpets on different streets every day of the week, the biggest turnout is on Friday, and it just so happens to be in my neighborhood! I took a walk around with the Tufts fellows first during the day while the carpets were still being constructed. We got to see the amazing intricate work in action. I was amazed at how detailed some of the carpets were. And so many colors! Later in the evening I went with my family, by which time all the carpets were finished. It felt like a carnival – half of León must have come out to witness the spectacle. I was surrounded by people talking and laughing, the smell of cotton candy or soda, and the brilliant sawdust carpets drawing everyone’s eyes. We all ooh-ed and aah-ed appropriately, the works of art made all the more impressive by the fact that they were made in a day to be destroyed by the procession that night.

My two halves of Semana Santa were probably as unalike as two experiences in the same small country could be. One was filled with foreigners, the other with my Nicaraguan family. One with the sea the other with sawdust. One with an island, the other with a city. And one with blue, green, and white, and the other with plentiful reds, yellows, oranges, and purples. Yet both came overflowing with friends and laughter. And really, what more could I ask for?