this kat is being domesticated...

so, i realize how ridiculous that sounds. but it's true!

in the last week, i have spent several hours in the kitchen with a little nicaraguan woman, named Maria, beginning my lessons in nicaraguan cooking. i am well on my way to mastering the art of tortilla making- finding the perfect mixture of maza and water, and then shaping them in the perfect round shape. of course, she thinks i'm nuts because it takes me twice as long to make one tortilla and it looks half as good.

i'm getting etiquette lessons from gladys. last night, we spent a long time learning about silverware and knowing which fork/spoon to use. i also learned how rude it was to use my finger to push the last few pieces of rice onto my fork... oops.

the girls are teaching me traditional (and not so traditional) nicaraguan dances. when the team was here, we spent more than two hours on friday with them, shaking, twisting, bumping, sweating, and looking like fools, nonetheless. man, can my nicaraguan sisters dance! and they love it too. oh and can i mention the song of the day... all i can remember is that is says, "that girl is hot like a tamale". ridiculous, but i love it!

and this morning, i come into the laundry room (i use that term loosely. imagine wire hanging from the walls to dry clothes, a sink to wash clothes and one washing machine that i get to use along with the abuelitos) to find isabel, a woman who does some cleaning and irons clothes, telling me how much my bathing suit smells. i gave it a cursory rinse when we got back from the ocean and called that good, hanging it up to dry. apparently, that just did not cut it. she took it down and told me to wash it. now, keep in mind, i don't think i've had to wash anything by hand in my life, except... ok, so never. and i as i look at the sink quizzingly, she comes over and tells me to wash it. my blank look must have shown that i didn't know what to do, so she took it from me and starting rubbing it hard against the built in washboard of the sink. and then she turns to me, telling me to try. so, i do, probably not doing a very good job. isabel runs to get maria (the cook) and starts jabbering away in spanish, thinking i can't understand, but man i can. and she's laughing and going on and on about how i don't know how to wash clothes. and before i know it, maria and isabel are both standing there watching my feeble attempt to wash my bathing suit. now, i don't get embarassed easily, but that was just humiliating. i told them that we use washing machines all the time in the States, but that didn't seem to appease them. i got out of there as fast as i could... but at least i now know, right?


oh man, so much to learn, so little time...