More Pics and Reading

So this is a sample of what a world map looks like. There are two schools in nearby communities that already have maps and the volunteers before me used them for geography lessons and global connections with pen pals. I am hoping to raise enough money here (or at home if you are open to ideas) to cement smooth one side of the school in order to chart using a graph method the map and color code and paint it. Please let me know if you or anyone or any group you know is interested in this project. It is incredible how many students here don't know where Nicaragua or the United States is on a map. 

 My new roommate, the lizard-gecko thing. I found him hiding in my shoe when I got back from Managua and the Gala. These little guys usually scurry around the walls and make little chirping noises. they even run across the tv and eat critters up in the light, little sillohuettes in the soap opera frame. He's got character and I'm hoping he hitches a ride to my new house. He needs a name though....

 This is the welder that I wrote about last time. Everybody, meet Don Totto. He is making a bumper for my host-dad's car for everyone to use to hoist themselves into the truck. Needless to say, we don't really believe in safety gear here. He is like that handyman grandpa that can do anything and everything and he always sits down and talks to me in a way that is not creepy.

 This is Traviesa, the new puppy at Dona Cocos house. She is the CUTEST thing ever!! I have been pushing really hard for her to come live with me. Her parents and grandparents are awesomely huge, german sheperd guard dogs. But she is soooooo cute!! And she lets me rub her belly and pet her.....awwww! Yuri, Dona Cocos older son, has told me he'll trade me the dog for my blue sunglasses. Doesn't seem like too bad a trade.

 I just thought this looked cool. Was walking back as it was getting dark and came upon a typical garbage burning. We burn everything from plastic to brush to whatever else people just don't want to see lying around anymore because there is no official trash collection. Burning smell....yummmm

 And then this was just funny. The cats at my grandmother's house were looking for a snack. And they were willing to work really hard, and look really silly for it.

 And the soccer boys. These are just some of the boys of the Cuatro Esquinas soccer team. They have the greatest spunk. They love playing in the rain (mud slinging and sliding makes it that much better).

 Eliar Geobani- one of the smartest and sharpest of my kids

 Jose Santos. One of the young ones who keeps up with the older boys or ties trying

 The same lizard-gecko guy shedding his skin on my deoderant stick. He's clearly making himself at home.

 Jose Santos helping out with this week's project: tree nursery! Me and about 5 youth chopped up some dirt at the CICO (preschool building) and filled the Nica baby plant holders aka plastic black bags for the tree seeds and tree cuttings that they collected. And they had no qualms about getting down and dirty! Most of them help their farmer parents plant coffee nurseries in the same way. They were way more knowledgeable than me and had no issues with carrying cow manure to mix too.

 Other youth, Gilver, helping load the bags with our manure and macheted-dirt mix.

 Engel, Isabel's son. Isabel is one of the leaders for the Community Bank and a brigadista (travelling nurse). Engel was only about 3 or 5 when the other volunteer was here, but he follows me around and always wants to help out. You just have to ask him, because he hardly ever talks...

 Jose Luis, the most energetic and extroverted of the tree group. He did the tree nurseries with the Jessica, the volunteer before me, and his sisters were part of her youth group. He knew everything to do and how to do it before I said anything. And he loves to say "Es cierto..." So now I find myself saying it all the time.

And the final product (note the tree clippings in the close corner) with the other Gilver looking on. We finished just as the rain started.

More Reading List

The Broken Cord by Michael Dorris

 Wow. A powerful true story about a father who adopts a child with FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) and experiences a very different parenthood. I’ll admit I actually had to put this book down after the 1^st couple of chapters because I wasn’t ready to see the familiar New England names like Dartmouth, Sunapee, Claremont, Hanover, and White River Junction. Dorris also has an amazing skill for weaving images of the beautiful landscapes of the Dakotas and New Hampshire (again made me miss home to read about Northfield carnivals and whiteouts) with a synthesized academic and anecdotal account of his struggle for the thing every parent of a special-needs child never achieves: reliefe and acceptance of the child in front of you. As a sibling of a different special need sibling, I was startled to read the same expressions of confusion, protectiveness and anger and challenge to keep pushing the unknown limits and potential of a struggling individuals’ abilities. We are so fixated on reaching the assumed ultimate success story of a parenthood: an employed, educated, and independent individual. What angered me was that this book is from the 80s/90s and FAS treatment and prevention has yet to make huge progress since. We still don’t know exactly what causes Autism, so we treat symptoms and vocationally prepare adults who are still very much children. Many told me this was a sad story and it is and will continue to be as long as we don’t react to research, as long as we ignore anectodal evidence. I decided not to follow a degree in psychology or special education for the same conflict of interest Dorris notes as he goes deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole of study groups, published manuals and legislation: you can never shake your too personal account, never shake your sobjectivity. Today’s society still shuts out thos who have the most to lose when deciding things like treatment and vocational programs or early diagnosis services. Whether it’s FAS or Autism, they both cost the federal government billions and the powers that be are still reactive and not productive. I thank God everyday that high-functioning Aspergers individuals have the ability to learn from their mistakes, but the incessant structure Dorris mentions as the infallible key to his son’s limited success is true too for Aspies, as well as their need for supervision and vulnerability to bullies and abuse. As an older sibling, I understand how difficult it is to conceptualize and accept different set of life goals and not intuitively identify it as a failure somehow on your part as the nurturer, the elusive progress never ends. None of the involved parites are happy until you appreciate the child in front of you, for all of his quirks, successes, and struggles. There are lots more coming, but he is unique, and like Adam, mine has conditional love too (despite those angsty teen moments).