I went with Buildabridge International for thanks giving, check out my blog story from that week

http://diasporaofhope.blogspot.com/2008/12/time-to-listen.html

Paz

So Obama winning the election is nothing short of marvelous. There is one line that Obama has said repeatedly; ¨My story could only have happened in the USA.¨ Living in Nicaragua, I can definitely say, that he is so right.

I have experienced more personal racism here in Nicaragua than I have in my whole life living in the United Sates. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t racism in the U.S., is just that, on a personal level, I have never experienced it, on an institutional level…that’s a different story.

The indigenous and ethnic people in this country are discriminated against, but if you have a lot of money, it doesn’t matter the color of your skin, it’s all green. But the fact that Barack had so many opportunities to excel in his academic career, a supportive diverse racial family, and the space to dream and believe against the odds, is not a gift many people have in the world.

Living here and seeing how much the governmental systems are bent against the poor , and the poor are also the people ethnic people, overcoming these obstacles seem only possible with help from your extended family, or international opportunities. There are many qualified people in the country, and there would be even more if ignorance and illiteracy wasn’t a weapon used by the system.

November the 6 was the mayor elections here in the country. In the capital, Managua, there were riots, deaths, people hospitalized over corruption in the Conservative party stealing the election from the Liberals. The elections here made me so much more grateful for an election to be with out fraud and directly from the people. I have read and seen videos of people fighting, getting arrested and dying for the right to vote, but being in the midst of it this past month, really brings those textbook pages alive.

Its winter time here( rainy season) so it rains everyday. And one particular weekend, my host brother and sister( age 11and12) decided to go play in the rain.......and I went with them, with a bit of peer pressure. It was fun!

I haven’t written anything since December. I really don’t know where to start. My job has picked up a lot.

During the months of Jan-March its been like ever other week I’m out with a group in the country side or the city doing medical clinics, reforestation, English teaching, studying different issues in the country, going to different human rights organizations and building relationships across cultural. All the groups that come here engage in some part of what I just listed. The cool thing is that I get to help them dive in and process the adventure they are getting themselves into. It’s a pretty good job……….But tiring and can be stressful at times. When your dealing with foreigners that you need to assure them constantly or male sure all is well with them, at the same time coordinate and make sure everything is on the same page with the locals, it can be draining. Especially if you don’t have any time to yourself.

But it gives me so much insight into what peace building looks like. Hearing Nicaraguans and US people’s stories of poverty, confusion, helplessness and unknown prides, it really opened up your view of things. For a foreigner to come into a culture where they are no longer the majority, it really forces you to see things from a different angle. And watching and assisting people through this process, is worth more than any amont of money.

With that being said, I have done a lot of research because I plan on going to Grad school for International Economic Development or Public Administration, and many of the universities are looking for applicants with at least 2 years work experience and proficiency in another language. So it makes sense for me to stay here a year long. Yes........I have made the long, hard decision t extend my term for one year. I don’t know what next year will look like, but I know it will be worth it.

Once I heard that there was a very different side, called the Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua, I knew that my experience of Nicaragua would not be complete unless I got to visit the other side of the country.

I met a pastor that is connected to my job CEPAD, and he invited me to stay with him and his family and host me for my visit in the region. When the arrangements were all made, I traveled ona 20 seater plane headed for a place I had never ben befoer,and wheni would ask people from the Pacific side of the, too ftern they were not sure either.

I immediatley saw differences. BLACK PEOPLE. the climate was humid, a very tropical climate. The people had Jamaican accents which I was enchanted by because it reminded me so much of home in Philly. The people are so beautiful.The town called Bluefields is really small and it seemed as if everyone knows eachother. My stay at the pastors house has been better than expected. His family and friends from his church are taking me around, and showing me what the town and people have to offer.

Through my conversations with people, I have noticed a common theme that I have heard before elsewhere. The mis and under-representation of the natives and blacks that live in this region. The lack of self identity among the people is seen in the use of drugs, alcohol and violence. The lack of access to universites and work, help keep the walls of poverty in their minds which leads them to not challeng the poverty they believe to be there only reality. Hearing how within the indigenous and black community, there is discrimination according to how light or dark you are, which is not a new thing to me. It seems as though that has been a barrier in many people of color´s history.The way education class has pushed people away from eachother because of fear of not being accepted in the community as ¨one of us¨

Im glad I had the opportunity to see more of the country and hear more stories inorder to peice my experiences together in a more holistic way.

Even though im not Nicaragan, I feel connected with them

So at the last minute I decided to go to Guatemala with BuildaBridge International which is an innovative organization that works in the toughest parts of the world bringing healing and hope to youth through the arts. I volunteer with them in Philadelphia so when I heard they were going to be in Guatemala doing an arts camp for a week, I knew I had to be there. We worked in an slum community called La Limonada ( the Lemonade). I taught dance with another teacher, my friend Gina, to children ages 4-10.

This may sound simple and easy, but in no sense of the word was it easy. The sounds, smells, sights and touch that we received were unforgettable. The neighborhood is invisible to the rest of the country. Its in a big mountain ditch with cement houses from the very top to the bottom. In the middle of mountain ditch, is a small sewer river. All the communities pluming and garbage flows into the small river of about more than 11,000 people. The smell is so strong, as soon as you step out of the car it greets you as if you were cooking fish in your house with all the windows closed on a hot summer day.

The most of the kids in our classes are street children who have barley nothing. One boy named Rony didn’t want to take off his shoes for dance class because his shoes weren’t even worth to be called shoes anymore. His heel was in the shoe, but his toes were touching the ground. Another little boy named Samuel had 4 brothers and his mom in his one bedroom house. Four slept on the bed and two on the floor and the mom is 7 months pregnant.

One day a girl name Yali age 5 was screaming at he top of her lungs because she didn’t want to come in the classroom because she didn’t want to work with the Gringos (gringos is a name for North Americans) Some of the kids parents tell them that Gringos will take them away from their families and put them up for adoption.

But at the end of the week we had a recital for the kids to present their play, painting, sculptures and dance piece. It was beautiful to see the smiles on the parents face and the pride the children had to show of what they made. I thank God I was able to exchange someone’s ashes of sadness for oil of joy, even if it was for a week.

For Thanksgiving Day, we had a regular Thanksgiving Day diner at the house of another one of the North Americans we were working with.

It was different not being with my own family and friends for the hoilday and I missed them, but it was comforting knowing that where I was, I was loved.

This thanksgiving I was thankful for the free gift of a smile that cost nothing and yet has the significant power to change someone’s life.