Casi Nica

I AM HALFWAY DONE! I can’t believe it. I feel like I have been here forever and just got here all at the same time. The weeks have been flying by and I have done and seen so much. Which, sadly, none of you all know about because I have EPICALLY failed at blogging!!! I will chalk it up to being a good student and studying a ton. At least, thats what I tell my host family when I go out with my friends all the time. A good sociology student must fully integrate themselves in society by observing the locals in their natural environment, right? Anyways....

I figured its high time to explain the title of my blog. For those of you who don’t speak spanish, “casi” means “almost.” For those of you who do speak Spanish, “casi” still means “almost.” People have been calling me “casi nica” since the first day. One of my friends gave nicknames to all of us gringas, and while the other girls are Barbie, Pretty Fly For a White Girl, and Sunshine, I’m Casi Nica. I think he might have seen this blog before he gave me a nickname, but still. I got the idea of the title when Doña Laura called said I was “casi Nica” during the Dia de la Revolucion. There are certain things about me that make me fit right in here. But there are also things I don’t think I will ever seem to get right (which makes me definitely gringa). I figured it would make a good halfway point summary to evaluate my “casi-Nicaness” for you.

Reasons why I am casi Nica:

1. I have dark brown hair and brown eyes. Unlike all the other girls in my program who do not have these features, I slip under the radar and can walk around without feeling like I’m in a spotlight. Managua is not used to foreigners, and lucky for me, I don’t look like one. 
2. I swirl ice around in my cup. Why does this make me casi nica? I have no idea. But one time when we were eating dinner I did just that and Laura Mariela pointed and laughed and said “Mira! Casi Nica!” And I just thought I wanted to make my drink cold.
3. I can casi speak spanish. And I guess my accent isn’t half bad either. Casi. 
4. Along with that...I can swear like a Nica. (Mom, if your reading this, I’m just kidding I never swear ever. For everyone else... I can keep up with the boys in the bar). 
5. Carbs are my favorite sorts of foods. And guess what? The food groups here are rice, tortillas, platanos, and other maize products. Match made in heaven, I know.
6. I can haggle with a taxi for a lower price. 
7. I believe in a socialist government. Controversial, I know, I know, and I haven’t really hashed out all of my ideas yet, but I do know that I believe in universal healthcare and education and many other public programs. And that is what they have here. 
8. Bugs, lizzards, snakes, spiders, and other critters don’t bother me. Guess what everyone? I have even gotten over my fear of bats! ...For the most part. I did get a little queasy when Laura Mariela told me that there are bats here that feed on cows.
9. My idea of safety and health codes have dramatically lowered since I’ve been here. Not wearing gloves when you serve me food? Its ok as long as I can’t see any dirt! No soap in the bathroom? or towels? or toilet paper? Hey, at least the water is running? The back door on the bus is rusted open? Doesn’t matter as long as it still gets me there! 
10. I can make tortillas! 

Reasons why I am not Nica

1. I always forget to throw toliet paper into the garbage instead of the toilet. Yes they do that here because for some reason the plumbing doesn’t like toilet paper.
2. I don’t speak spanish. (Ok I know it takes time and I’m learning but I still feel like I’m never gonna get it!)
3. I am still too white. Granted, there are some people here who are very white, but for the most part, the people in Managua are a lot darker then I am. 
4. I do my homework more then 50% of the time, unlike the Nicas.
5. I like cats! Everyone here hates them! I don’t get it. 
6. I can’t walk past being begging without feeling guilty or ashamed. Maybe everyone here feels the same way too. Walking past old people begging or little kids trying to sell crafts for a couple of cordobas is something I don’t think I will ever be ok with. Not that I am in the states either, but it is much more present here. 
7. I was taught that there are 7 continents. They are taught that there are 5. We had a 2 1/2 hour debate about this. 
8. I will never understand the politics here. Granted, I barely understand them in the US.  The Revolution here is one of the most interesting and complicated things I have ever learned about. 
9. I hate groupwork! Every project here is in groups, and I am not a fan. I also feel bad for the Nicas who get stuck with me because I am such a deadweight. 
10. It is too hot. My body does not enjoy it. 

Well, thats it. Casi Nica. Some things I’ve got, some things I’ve got to work on. Culture shock? Work in progress. Some days are harder than others. But I have awesome family and friends here who help me and keep me sane. I have my gringas to analyze and discuss with, and my Nicas to teach me the ropes and correct me when I mix up my words (like gallina and galleta, aka chicken and cookie). Who knows, in the final two months of group projects, volcano hikes, market bartering, bus riding, bar hopping, and beach napping, maybe I’ll be so Nica they won’t believe my US passport. Maybe :)

Fiestas and Fotos!

Hope this one was worth the wait... I finally have some pictures! My camera decided to cooperate, so now I’m gonna do a lot of backtracking to explain them all. I put the link at the end, but you can look at them first if you prefer. Ready?¡Vaminos! (yes I did learn that one from Dora).

So, my last full day in the US this summer was the Fourth of July. Fitting, right? I sat on the dock by my friend Jamie’s boat watching the fireworks explode overhead as people wearing red, white, and blue chatted and snacked. Afterwords, we joined the crowd of people waiting patiently in line for the public bus, and then returned home where I continued to pack (obviously I left almost everything for the night before). All in all, a fun, low-key Independence Day. 

About 2 weeks after I got here was 19 de julio, or Dia de la Revolucion Sandinista. This marks when the FSLN (the Sandinistas, a huge social movement/political party) defeated the Somoza dictatorship in 1979. So, in a sense, similar to an independence day. I can’t give you a history lesson, because I’m still learning myself, and I’m not quite ready to comment on the political relationship between Nicaragua and the US. Another day, for sure. Right now, my goal is to enlighten you on how the people here celebrate their revolution. A little more extravagant then how we do ours, to say the least.

It’s hard to get ready for a celebration when you have no idea what to expect, the most important question being, of course,WHAT DO I WEAR? I threw on a red shirt, knowing the FSLN colors are red and black. When I came out of my room, Armando looked me over, and then handed me a black and red bandana. “You look almost Nica!” Doña Laura said chucking at me as I gratefully put it on with a big fat smile on my face. Armando and I left and piled into the back of our friend’s pick-up truck, the only acceptable mode of transportation to the plaza on the 19 de julio. And the madness began.

I can’t even begin to explain the amount of people. Macy’s Parade? Nothing. Mardi Gras? Close, but no cigar. The pictures don’t do it justice, but I literally think the crowd was carrying me because my feet could not move fast enough to keep up with the mass of people I was being smashed into. We finally made it out of the bottleneck and close to the plaza where we staked out a spot to stand right next to a speaker system.

At first, there wasn’t a lot going on. Someone was making a speech, but I was paying more attention to the crowd of people in black and red FSLN gear, drinking a ton of Toña and yelling and walking around aimlessly. Then there was cheering; I guess it was over? The 2011 FLSN campaign song started and someone set off a ton of fireworks. Now, these weren’t the big, far-off 4th of July kind, but rather chaotic blasting mortars shooting into the sky with flashes and smoke! We were so close I could taste them. Really. A piece of one fell in my hair. Safety codes? Hah. I did say that they preferred mode of transportation was to pile in trucks, right? 

I guess the fire hazard was the signal to get the party started, because the music kept blaring, the people kept drinking, and EVERYONE was dancing! Seriously, that is how every national holiday should be! Meagie, Armando and I went into the heart of it where the lights set the stage for the mass of pink and white 2011 FLSN campaign T-shirts. It was crazy. We returned back to the party, and well, I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

After the party we were pretty hungry, so the next logical step was of to convince Burger King that they should let us in even though they were trying to close. Now, this isn’t any sort of fast food joint you’ve seen in the US. There were flat screen TVS. And they served beer. In pitchers. Dane Cook’s BK Lounge, anyone? We ended the night at my house, hanging out and continuing the ridiculousness. I don’t think I have ever been more exhausted in my life. Now I understand what they mean by holiday here :)

So here we go....

• A link to the theme song of the day! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdcSlGa5rTM
• The BK lounge, if you don’t know it...only the first 25 secs are necessary http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cecP70q3mkE 
• and the pictures! I put descriptions on them to help explain! Hit slideshow in the top right corner, and then hit show info!  http://www.flickr.com/photos/calicasinica/sets/72157627567128006/