THANK YOU!

“Gracias por todo.” (Thank you for everything)

“Te quiero mucho.” (I love you a lot)

With those words I got into the taxi last Thursday, leaving not only the kids but also a part of my heart on their street corner in Managua.

Over the last 3.5 months I’ve been blessed to spend time with a group of kids who every day work at a busy intersection downtown, washing windshields and running between stopped cars begging for coins. I had the pleasure of eating lunch with the group, which grew from 3 to 15, every day at nearby fast-food restaurants. We bonded over greasy chicken, coloring books, a play area, and a digital camera. The pure and vibrant love the kids possess transcends the language barrier and I quickly fell in love with them. Despite being forced to mature too rapidly by working on the streets, they have miraculously maintained a remarkable amount of the beauty and innocence found in childhood.

While our lunch dates offered them a brief respite from working on the streets, I knew that they were merely a Band-Aid solution. Seeking to provide more long-term relief, we came up with the idea for a sponsorship program through which the kids could re-enroll in school.

To date, 13 kids have been registered and, starting in a few weeks, will spend their time in class rather than on the street. We have also started providing monthly food allowances for each family involved in the program, giving the parents further incentive to keep their kids in school. In addition, we’ve hired a Nicaraguan man, who speaks both English and Spanish, to run the program now that I’m back in the USA.

I’m excited to tell you that we’re currently in the process of establishing the program as an official non-profit organization. We really believe that this program can thrive. Once we figure out the arrangements for developing the non-profit we will commence fund-raising efforts. I’ll surely keep you updated as things progress, hopefully soon.

“Te quiero mucho.” “Gracias por todo.”

I spoke these words to the kids last Thursday and, with the same authenticity, offer them to you now. I have been so honored by the incredible support I’ve received throughout this adventure. I honestly feel that, although I am the one who was physically present in Nicaragua, you, as my family and closest friends, are the ones responsible for what we’ve been able to accomplish. Without your prayers, encouragement, thoughts, and interest I am certain that I would not have been strong enough to overcome the challenges I faced. I truly mean it when I say that ‘we’ did this.

My experience in Nicaragua provides yet another example of how God doesn’t call the equipped, but instead chooses to equip the called. I left home only knowing that I was supposed to spend some time in Managua. Through various closed doors, many of which I unsuccessfully tried to pry open, God led me to meet these kids. Somehow he used an introverted kid who doesn’t speak much Spanish nor have much patience with kids to lay the foundations for breaking this cycle of poverty.

In addition to working on this sponsorship program, I’m now applying to graduate school for journalism and have started an internship with Baltimore magazine. I’m not sure if journalism is the exact path I want to follow right now, but I know that I enjoy writing so we’ll see if anything comes of this.

I will always be grateful to you and to God for allowing me this experience. I know that I received many more blessings than I could have possibly bestowed. Although my time as a resident of Nicaragua has come to an end, I believe that my involvement in these kids’ lives has truly just started.

With Much Love,
Dylan

Our Final Party

It’s a bit odd for me to write this blog at my kitchen table in Baltimore, dressed in sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I am still trying to get used to being cold again. While the weather, food, and ubiquitous presence of English have all taken awhile to readjust to, I’ve found that the hardest part about being in Baltimore is the fact that I am apart from the kids.

My last day was one that I will always treasure. It exemplifies my adventures in Nicaragua, capturing the essence of my experience within the time-frame of a day.

The day’s excitement began when, despite my efforts to flag them down, not one but two buses drove by me at the bus stop. Just some typical fun with Nicaraguan transportation. I found a cab, though, and thus arrived at the street corner earlier than usual.

The kids were waiting for me in their clean, new clothes, toting presents they excitedly gave me. Much like the small teddy bears and pink lipstick I received days before, I could picture the kids looking around their houses for things that they valued, thinking they would be perfect gifts. This time I received several large teddy bears and numerous pictures and letters. The kids also had stuffed animals for me to take to Nefret, my mom, and Emily. All of the stuffed animals were worn and dirty; obviously the product of years of affection and usage. I was so honored to receive such meaningful presents. The kids gave out of their poverty, giving some of their most treasured toys.

We had a delightful time at our party at the Fun House. All said there were 26 people there, including 19 kids. The kids managed to sit down long enough to eat their chicken nuggets and fries and draw a few pictures. The calm lasted for about 20 minutes, after which the allure of the games in the Nicaraguan Chuck-E-Cheese-esque place took over. Usually we pay for each kid to play two games. This time, though, we purchased an hour of unlimited play for each one. When Carlos told the kids of this development they freaked out. I’ve never seen them so excited.

The kids played for an hour non-stop. They laughed and smiled just acted like kids. It was really a great way to end our time together. My goal for the party was to show the kids just how much I care about them and how special they are. I hope that they felt that.

After the party I, carrying a large plastic bag with all of my gifts, walked with the kids back to their corner. We spent about 15 minutes exchanging phone numbers, hugging, and saying goodbye. The kids got me a taxi and chased after it, waving and smiling, as we drove away.

Our final time together was really special. I will always have mental images of those kids smiling and running around. I can still feel their little arms hugging my legs. Their love was so evident, as it was throughout our entire time together. I’m so thankful for the relationships we established.

I’ll post my final letter within the next few days. Thanks for reading.

Pictures

The last batch of pictures is up!

http://flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua/

Brad and Lauren in the News

Hello! I am working on a final blog, but in the meantime check out this article on Brad and Lauren.

http://www.loudountimes.com/news/2008/jan/05/two-leesburg-residents-work-children-nicaragua/

Emily's Blog

I was only in Nicaragua for 6 full days, but I feel like I really had a chance to get to know the country and the people that Dylan has grown to love. I feel so blessed that now I can share in this experience with him.

One thing is for sure, in Nicaragua there are no rules and no signs. I had an idea of what to expect from all that Dylan told me about his home away from home, but I really could never have prepared myself for this amazing experience.

My first experience of Nicaragua was from the backseat of a taxi. A taxi equipped with a “siren” for a horn. And yes the siren horn was used whenever, not exactly when necessary. The only transportation more exciting was the elaborately decorated school buses.

The market was an overwhelming sight of people and goods. It wouldn’t have been necessary to buy anything from the shops, walking around and observing was exciting enough for me. Although I did make some purchases (who can pass up a hammock for $11?).

San Juan del Sur was beautiful. The trip to and from the beach was of course an interesting experience, but it was worth it. I loved eating dinner directly on the beach and listening to the waves. And who doesn’t love spaghetti for lunch when you are deserted on the beach for the afternoon? It was so amazing to experience the beautiful sunset, clear blue water, and cool evening breeze.

And then there are the kids…

Walking around to the street corner, and watching them rush over to us from 50 yards away yelling “DILAN” at the top of their lungs, is an image that will always stay with me. I was immediately received with hugs and kisses. Even after I explained to them that I could not speak Spanish very well, they asked questions and wanted to know all about me. I just could not get over their openness and loving hearts.

As soon as we got to lunch they wanted to see my camera. They loved taking pictures of us, in all kinds of combinations and poses, most of me and the chicken mascot painted on the wall. We played games (games that I did not understand or know the rules of, and yet always won) and danced. Dylan and I were married, twice. The girls all giggled as they did my hair and prepared me for the event. Their smiles and laughter were such a treat. They showered me with their gifts, generosity, and love.

When it came time for me to leave, I wanted to listen to their pleas for me to stay. It was so hard to say goodbye, and we had only just met a few days before. It was so easy to fall in love with each and every one of them. They are all so unique and special, and so happy and loving. I feel so fortunate that I was able to meet and spend some time with them. I don’t think I will be able to explain to them the impact they have made on my life through Dylan and through this trip. And for that I am truly grateful.

My time in Nicaragua was amazing. I made a promise to the kids that I would come back and visit soon. I know that I will keep that promise. I am looking forward to the next time I get to pile into a colorful school bus, dangerously maneuver through the streets, and see the smiling faces of my new friends.

I miss Fried Chicken Already

Last night, around 8pm, I was sitting at my kitchen table reading some articles on the New Hampshire primaries and Roger Clemens contemplating whether to spend an hour or so cleaning, packing, or reading my book. (See what happens when Emily is not home to talk with me?) Up until this point I figured that the highlight of the evening would surely be my successful venture into making corn-flake chicken.

At this exciting point in my evening two men came two the door and started speaking Spanish. After introductions and brief formalities I soon became lost and said, “No hablo mucho espanol,” (I don’t speak much Spanish). One of the men excitedly responded, in English, “I’m an American!” They told me they just moved in across the street and were having trouble getting internet. So, invited them in and told them how I got my internet. They asked what I’m doing here and I had a chance to explain my work with the kids a bit; to which they were very receptive.

Their story is quite interesting. One man, Carlos, is a massage therapist who works with professional athletes. He asked if I was a baseball fan and told me that his nephew, Jesse, is a writer for mlb.com and is also staying across the street. I then explained my interest in both journalism and sports. Carlos then brought Jesse over and the three of us chatted while they used my internet.

It turns out they are living across the street with one of Carlos’ clients, Vicente Padilla, a pitcher for the Texas Rangers. So, yes, one of my new neighbors is a professional baseball player. After talking here for a bit they asked me if I wanted to meet Vicente. Of course I did, so we walked over to his house and I had a chance to say hi.

I really enjoyed talking with Jesse and Carlos. Jesse provided me with some helpful advice on succeeding in journalism and told me some interesting stories about his work. They were both supportive of my work here and told me they would introduce me to Vicente’s assistant, who runs his foundation, before I leave on Friday. They said there is a chance Vicente might want to help out, since he is Nicaraguan, too.

Only in Nicaragua does this kind of stuff seem to happen. I can’t picture any circumstances at home in which I could go from sitting by myself in my house to meeting a professional baseball player in a night.

Today was pretty much a continuation of yesterday in terms of emotion; both good and bad, gifts, good times, lots of hugs, and a photo shoot. I met with Carlos before lunch to teach him how to use the digital camera I am leaving with him. We also separated the school supplies we bought last week at the market by family before heading out to meet everyone and pass them out.

Our lunch was very wonderful. The kids, realizing it was our last trip to Pollo Campero, were even more energetic than usual. I would guess that I received upwards of 150 hugs today and only slightly fewer requests for the biggest chicken breast or more soda. There was some drama between the two moms who are twins, with one initially refusing to come, but after awhile everybody calmed down and enjoyed themselves. The kids gave me gifts for Nefret and Emily. I think it’s so cute how the girls put so much time into making beautiful pictures and letters for them.

During lunch one of the mothers told me that the older kids can’t use the notebooks we bought for them. I saw her point, as the notebooks were small and seemed more appropriate for younger kids. So, after lunch I bought 24 High School Musical notebooks for the older kids. I told the kids I would bring other notebooks tomorrow but decided to surprise them this afternoon. By the reception the notebooks received one would think I gave them each a new bike or something.

After handing out the notebooks I walked to the bus stop along with 5 of the kids. We were joking and hanging out when I heard someone ask, in English, “Hey man, how’ve you been?” I turned to see a man who I met a long time ago, maybe in early November, across the street in front of Metrocentro. At the time he introduced himself to me as an activist trying to collect money to stop the eviction of people from an HIV/AIDS patient house. In November I thought that he was a bit odd, and was further warned when the kids told me not to talk with him. Today I got the impression that he might be a drug addict by the way he carried himself and spoke.

Within seconds of his arrival the kids told me, loud enough for him to hear, that he was a robber and further implored me to stop talking with him. The man, understandably, didn’t like what the kids had to say and they started exchanging verbal barbs. I didn’t know what to say so I just repeated, “No!” at an ever-increasing volume. The man started to walk away but turned back and kicked Ninoska, who was leading the insult attack. She quickly picked up a small rock and threw it at him as he tried to run away. Not really thinking, just reacting, I, by this point screaming, “NO!” ran in between the man and the kids trying to diffuse the situation.

The man then picked up a rock and cocked his arm to throw it at Ninoska. I knew that he wouldn’t throw the rock at me so I stayed between the two of them while walking towards the man. He threw the rock, thankfully missing Ninoska. She then fired another one back at him, also missing. By this point I reached him and grabbed his shoulders, yelling at him to drop the rock. He did so and, uttering some not-so-nice words, turned and left.

One girl, Winny, was crying when I got back to the group of kids. I think she, like me, was pretty shaken up by the situation. I never really felt in danger, as the scrap virtually consisted of a pebble-throwing exhibition, but the fact that this guy would mess with the kids bothered me. I’m sorry that this event was our final memory of our day together, but I think that the good times we had earlier in the day were special enough to outweigh the bad.

Tomorrow we’re throwing a HUGE bash at the Fun House. It will undoubtedly be ridiculous. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

An Emotional Day

I took Emily to the airport and waited in line with her to check in, only departing when I was forced to at security. On our way to the airport she enjoyed a very ‘Nicaraguan’ send-off, complete with walking past a huge pile of burning trash, ridiculous taxi driving, and sharing the road with various animals and animal-drawn carts. We had a truly delightful time together this past week. Although it was sad to see her go I know that I’ll see her again in a few days so I am coping alright.

With my time with the kids coming to an end very shortly our lunches and afternoons are becoming more emotional by the day. I continue to be amazed with how affectionate the kids are in light of the emotional and physical beating they receive every day. I marvel how they can maintain so much pure joy in the midst of their lives.

I know that I have expressed the feeling before, but I have to reiterate how thankful I am to have this Nica experience. While it might be counterintuitive, I have found myself more on the receiving end of blessings than the giving. The kids’ selfless generosity is perhaps the aspect of this trip I will remember the most fondly.

When I arrived today Stephanie, an adorable 5-year old girl, was excitedly waiting with a gift for me. I have received countless pictures and letters as well as a few sunglasses and bracelets over the last couple months, and each gift was obviously heartfelt and special. The teddy bear that Stephanie, after running up to greet me, gave me was yet another example of how giving these families are. They are so real with their feelings that they can’t help but express them, and they are so legitimately thankful that I am consistently overwhelmed by the depth of those expressions. I’m not sure how many toys Stephanie has, but since she spends her days begging for money on the street I’m pretty confident that the bear she gave me was probably quite special to her.

Our time at Pollo Campero resembled a photo shoot more than lunch. The digital camera has long been a hit, but its popularity has increased over the last few days. Today they managed to take 164 pictures in the 2.5 hours I was with them. I think I have multiple pictures of every possible combination of people present. They don’t usually smile for pictures here so the majority of the pictures consist of me smiling and everyone else looking miserable. An interesting cultural difference.

During the course of lunch and hanging out with them afterwards I received several more letters and drawings. I could tell that some of the letters were obviously the fruits of much labor. I am so honored that these kids would spend so much time writing me letters telling me how much they love me and am thankful for everything. Some of them write me multiple letters a week. What a blessing.

One boy, Ever, bought me a bag of juice and some chocolate from one of the guys who walks between cars at their stoplight. I just am so blown away that the kids spend their own money (they are allowed to keep some of the coins they get from begging) on a gringo.

At the end of our lunch Ninoska, the oldest girl (15), gave me a Winny the Pooh gift bag with some of the most meaningful gifts I’ve ever received. The first thing I noticed was a intricately colored drawing of me and a flower. She had spent all of her time prior to giving the gift to me – probably a little over an hour – at a corner table making this picture and the letter which followed. She wrote how much she loves me and how appreciative she is for our friendship and everything that I’ve done for her. I was already so touched by her artwork and letter but the rest of the gift brought me close to tears.

I then pulled out a teddy bear with the words ‘te amo’ (I love you) written on its chest. As I took it out of the bag Ninoska proudly told me that she bought it for me with her own money. Again, at this point I was already extremely humbled and honored. Still, there was more to come.

I think it’s refreshing how real the kids’ desire to give me gifts is. Although they can’t really buy me much they are not deterred. Instead, they turn to often giving items that obviously mean a lot to them. I imagine they are thinking that if they really like the item then we will, too. For example, the kids gave Emily a ring and a bracelet clip literally off of their own hands yesterday.

Also in the bag were two pictures – one for Nefret and one for me. Nefret’s picture is of Didiert, one of the babies, dressed in donated clothes that Nefret brought. Ninoska gave me a family portrait which, judging from Ninoska’s size in the picture, appears to be about 6 years old. I know that her family can’t have many photos, so to receive a family portrait was really quite powerful.

The last item in Ninoska’s gift bag was an unopened bottle of pink nail polish. I can’t even imagine how important it was to her. I can picture her sitting at her house thinking of what she had to give me, determining that she since she valued the nail polish I would appreciate it also. I immediately thought of the Bible story of the widow’s offering, when Jesus called the very poor woman’s heartfelt tithe much more valuable than the not-very-meaningful but much larger donations by the wealthy. Jesus describes the widow’s offering as, “out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on,” and I think the same applies for Ninoska’s.

I had to pay my phone bill after we ate and Ninoska, Aura, and Ever accompanied me to the bank to do so. They waited outside while I went inside and quickly took care of business. Afterwards we sat on the curb in front of the bank just talking and joking around. About 5 minutes after I sat down with them a security guard came over and, in English, told me that we had to leave. I thought his request was reasonable, since I probably wouldn’t want three kids joking around in front of my bank, either. We started to leave.

I’m not proud of what happened next but I want to share it because it happened and I think you have a right to know. As we were walking away the guard, with a smirk, told me, “You can stay, it’s just that the kids have to leave.” I was immediately infuriated. I was okay with him asking us to leave the bank, even if the reason was he didn’t want street kids sitting out front. I understand that. What got to me was he felt the need to, although we were already walking away, throw in his verbal jab. I then, probably against my better judgment and already knowing the answer, asked him why I could stay and the kids couldn’t. Again through a sly smile he told me, “No reason.”

“What’s the reason?” I asked. He responded with another smirk and a shrug. All of me, again, against my better judgment, wanted to stay and tell this guy how I really felt. I didn’t want to subject the kids to this episode though. I have been known to run my mouth a little too much sometimes and couldn’t stop myself from saying, “That’s messed up,” as we left. I am glad the kids walked with me to the bus stop and stayed with me until it came because I think I would have gone back to the bank if they hadn’t.

Again, I’m not proud with how I handled the situation. I know that I let my anger take control. I just wanted to give you all a more detailed picture of life here, not just a recap of the good stories.

As we sat at the bus stop Ninoska asked me if I had bus money. Although I said yes she pressed 2.5 cordobas (about 15 cents) into my hand, insisting I that I take it. I tried for the approximately 10 minutes we waited for the bus to give the money back, but to no avail. At one point I put on the most serious face I could and beseeched her to take the money. The kids one-upped me. The other people waiting for the bus must have been quite confused/amused to see three kids on their knees wailing and begging me to keep the money. I couldn’t do anything to get her to take it back. So, in addition to all of the gifts I’d received earlier in the day, I also enjoyed a free bus ride home. The kids are ridiculous.

Today was an emotional day. I just keep thinking about the kids’ gifts and how meaningful they are. I know that tomorrow and Thursday are going to be hard, too. I keep reminding myself that the only reason saying goodbye to the kids is so hard is that we have such powerful relationships, which is a good thing.

Much love to you all. Thank you so much for reading and for supporting me. None of this would be possible without you.

dw

I love the Beach

What a weekend!

Having braved lunch with the kids on Thursday Emily proved her mettle by coming back the next day for more. Thursday’s lunch was a nice, pleasant introduction for her; the kids were friendly, fun, and fairly well-behaved. I was a little worried that it was too easy and that the kids would make up for Thursday’s semi-angelic behavior on Friday.

I think the kids must really like Emily because they were wonderful again on Friday. Like Thursday, some kids I’ve never seen before came. At this point I don’t have the heart to limit the group size, since I am leaving in a week, and allow everyone to come. Some of the moms have been frequently coming, which I’m sure has helped bring about the positive change in their deportment.

The kids, especially the girls, are borderline-obsessed with Emily. They repeatedly tell me how beautiful she is and like playing with her hair. Blondes are not so common here so I understand their interest. She has been so wonderful with them. They like playing a game with her in which they all stand in a circle and take turns jumping up and squatting down. It looks…really fun.

The funniest part of our lunch on Friday was the fake wedding ceremony the kids put on for us. They love to, even before Emily arrived, give me a hard time about not being married. I think that by my age it’s fairly common to be married or at least be living with someone. So, one of them came up with the idea that marrying us at Pollo Campero would be appropriate. The kids quickly set up the “church,” which consisted of two lines of tiny plastic chairs and an altar consisting of a plastic kids table. They were so excited and ran around franticly while giggling to set things up. The girls hurriedly fixed Emily’s hair and pretended to dress me up. Evert, an 11-year old boy preformed the ceremony. I’m not sure exactly what he was saying but he seemed quite confident in his abilities as pastor. Afterwards the kids screamed, ran up, and hugged us. It was a precious moment because they were so obviously excited and having so much fun.

After lunch we took a cab to the Huembes bus terminal where we caught a bus to Rivas, followed by a taxi to San Juan del Sur, one of Nicaragua’s most beautiful beach towns. We had an enjoyable dinner at one of the beachfront restaurants and afterwards walked along the beach for a bit.

Saturday’s beach experience was quite typical of Nicaragua. We took a water taxi, which our hotel owner told us about, to a beach about 40 minutes away. Along the ride we passed several beautiful, inviting beaches, always slightly disappointed when the boat continued to drive past. When we finally turned into a small harbor and saw the awaiting beach we realized the trip was worthwhile. Pristine, white sand lay ready for us and the beach – maybe 400 yards long – only had about 20 other people on it. We stretched out our towels and basked in the sun.

About an hour later we both became hungry and went searching for the snack shacks the hotel owner informed us about. About 100 yards from the water was a concrete wall with several private property signs, stretching almost the entire length of the beach. We presumed the food would be at the far end of the beach, where the wall ended, so we walked over there. We were met by something that looked like a swamp and a security guard. I asked where we could get food and he told me to “go to the exit and look for the white house.” So, we walked back down the beach, towards the other end, looking for something that resembled an exit. We found a path and, deciding it was our best bet, walked down. We soon saw a white house but were confused since the house looked like, well, a house. There was nothing that would lead us to believe it was a restaurant. Having eliminated the house as a location from which we could possibly acquire food we took a right at another path and walked until we found another beach. We did find a snack shack there but quickly discovered it was closed.

We determined the initial path we were on to be the most promising so we backtracked until we found it again. After we passed the white house we saw a couple of other gringos sitting around a table on a patio behind another house appearing to be eating something. We looked for a sign of some sort but were unable to come up with any further evidence of this being a restaurant. We were both so hungry by this point – about 2pm – that I walked up and asked the gringos if they were indeed eating at a restaurant. They said yes so Emily and I took a seat at another table.

A man came over after a few minutes and told us that they only item they have is spaghetti. We could, however, choose a topping of meat, chicken, or vegetables. So, after waiting about 30 minutes more, we ate huge plates of pretty disgusting spaghetti on someone’s patio before heading back to the beach. Only in Nicaragua.

The rest of our time at San Juan del Sur was pretty much perfect. We had some great meals, beach time, and walks throughout the town. We even met up with Lauren’s sister and brother-in-law – Jane and Jon – for lunch on Sunday. They just moved to Nica last week to attend Spanish school for 10 weeks and we loved hearing about their experiences. I’m impressed with how quickly they’ve adapted to the craziness that is present in most aspects of Nica life; in their case in the form of no hot water, roosters who don’t know what time it is, a parrot, and the difficulties of adjusting to a completely different diet. They are wonderful and we had so much fun talking with them.

Right now we are waiting for the real-estate agent and our landlady to arrive to inspect the apartment for damages. I question their impending arrival as they are already 30 minutes late. So, we’ll see if they show up. We’re going to lunch with the kids and then to the market to do some shopping.

I hope you all had great weekends. I can’t wait to see you soon. I still don’t really believe that I will be home in 4 days. Thanks again for reading this. When I initially started this I thought that my readers would be my parents and maybe Emily. I’ve since been overwhelmed by the support and feedback I’ve received and am so honored that you continue to show an interest in my adventures here.

Much love,

dw

Wait, Emily's in Nicaragua?

Although she arrived two days ago it’s still hard for me to believe that Emily is really here. For the last 3+ months her presence in Nicaragua has been relegated to my computer screen via Skype videochats (we are dorks). Previously mutually exclusive, two of the most important aspects of my life, Emily and Nicaragua, finally met.

Emily arrived Wednesday afternoon and we enjoyed a wonderful seafood dinner that evening. Having woken up at 4am she understandably went to bed early.

Thursday was her true initiation to the Nica life. She faced a daunting first challenge – riding a bus to the market – but overcame it with ease. I surprised myself by not getting us lost in the market and we had fun experiencing the lively bustling atmosphere. We caught a bus home and rested for about an hour before heading out to meet the kids for lunch.

Since the kids and their moms aren’t working now they arrived, again wearing clean clothes that you all donated, for our lunch date. Two little girls I’d never seen before – cousins of some of the regulars – came along as well as two of the moms and the grandmother.

Not surprisingly, the kids loved Emily. They kept telling me how beautiful she is, to which I responded that this was not new knowledge for me. They had such a great time playing games with her, taking pictures with her, and playing with her hair. With the exception of my dad’s I don’t think they’ve ever seen hair so blond before.

Emily brought two big duffle bags full of donated clothes and Thursday morning we put together packages for each family. After we all ate we gave the clothes out to each mother and watched them excitedly try them on. The kids and their moms were so thankful.

Thursday evening we went to dinner with my good friends Keren and Esmir. I’m glad Emily got a chance to meet them. We went to an organic restaurant, which felt like it should be located in downtown Baltimore instead of Managua. Nicaraguans are not as health-conscious as Americans (yet overweight Nicaraguans are quite rare) so I was quite surprised to find a whole restaurant dedicated to serving healthy, organic food. The food was delicious and the company was great. Both Keren and Esmir are friendly and full of personality and I’m so happy that Emily could spend time with them.

Here’s one typical Nica story for you: I talked to Esmir earlier in the day on Thursday and, not knowing the name of the restaurant, could only tell him that Keren picked the “organic restaurant” for our dinner. He told me that he’d be there so I assumed he knew where it was. I called Esmir when we arrived at the restaurant to see where he was. He told me that he was at home but was leaving just then and would be there in 5 minutes. Just before I was about to hang up I asked him if he knew where the restaurant is. “What’s it called? Where is it?” He asked. This response prompted me to wonder where he was planning on going if I didn’t ask that question. Nica…

It’s about 8:30am and Emily just came downstairs. I’m very impressed with her ability to sleep in. Although we stayed up very late watching “American Gangster” I still couldn’t make it past 6:45am. Oh well. Two cups of coffee today…

Today Emily and I are going to San Juan del Sur – the beach that Lauren and I visited in November – after lunch with the kids. I’m really excited. I’m not sure if they have internet at our hotel but if they do I will try to post. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to put anything up until Sunday night or Monday morning.

I will be on a plane home in one week. I don’t think my departure will be real until I actually leave. I’ve had a lot of time to mentally prepare for it but I am sure it will still feel sudden and abrupt. I know that Nica will always be a big part of my life though, so this really won’t be goodbye.

No Work Today

When I arrived at the street corner I found 6 of the kids playing, not washing cars. The rest of the kids, along with their mothers, another aunt, and some cousins I’d never met, arrived about 10 minutes later. It turns out they don’t usually work in January since “business is slow.” So, they came in their nice clothes just to have lunch. I recognized so many of the clothes as those we just handed out during our Christmas party; the ones you all donated. I was thrilled that they all made the trip just to eat with me, but even more happy that they aren’t going to work in the near future.

A couple of quick stories/observations:

1 – Carlos relayed a conversation he had with Sonia to me in which she said, “I am so glad that we don’t have to work now,” (meaning in January). Although the kids often tell me they like their work I find this hard to believe. Most of the time they are semi-adults, hardened by their time on the streets, but it seems like when we have lunch they let loose and are just kids again. I’m so glad they can run around and act crazy for a few hours a day. I think that Sonia unwound enough today to reveal her true feelings to Carlos.

2 – I thought the moms’ presence would ensure good behavior from the kids, but I was sorely wrong. I think the larger-than-usual group just got them more revved up. There were a couple fights and some tears today. The moms have no reservations about spanking the kids. A few of the brawlers soon became bawlers after their moms found out what happened.

3 – I would like to tell you that the families are always 100% content with what we’re able to do for them and never ask for more, but this isn’t always true. I will say that, without fail, they, especially the kids, thank us profusely. Today though, some of the moms were complaining to Carlos that the 500 Cordobas (approx. $28) each family will receive each month as part of the sponsorship program is not enough. One mom often pulls me aside when Carlos is not around and asks for money. I never say yes since I want to treat all of the families equally. I am writing this not to complain about their ingratitude. I know they are beyond grateful. I just want to give you all fuller picture of life here. I do not fault them at all. If I were in their position I would probably ask for more, too.

4 – It rained most of the day, including when we left Pollo Campero. Since they weren’t working they were all ready to catch a bus home. It’s a holiday though, so the buses don’t run very frequently. (I found this out when I sat at the station waiting and waiting this morning. Just like I did on Christmas. Eventually I had to take a taxi. I’ve heard the definition of insanity is doing the same thing twice and expecting different results…) So, we all crowded under the covered bus stop and waited. After about 20 minutes with no bus they asked if I could pay for a taxi to take just the moms and their small babies home, thus allowing the babies to stay dry. I agreed and Carlos flagged one down. He was unable to find any drivers willing to take the moms and babies to their neighborhood, explaining that drivers all felt the area was too dangerous to travel into.

5 – I was so touched when the kids, when we were saying goodbye, said, “I love you,” “Thank you,” and “God bless you;” all in English. They had asked Carlos during lunch and were so proud and excited to tell me such special phrases in English. Carlos, who teaches English part-time at a local college, has a vision of holding English lessons for the kids. We agreed that once the sponsorship program gets up and running we’ll reevaluate our situation and hopefully we will have enough money to hire him to teach.

Okay, that’s enough for now. My girlfriend Emily is arriving tomorrow! I’m so excited for her to meet the kids and get a taste of the Nica life.