mi casa es su casa

yesterday in the morning, i headed out to a little town called diriamba, about 45 km from managua where i had been invited to spend the day/night with one of the tutor mothers here at the home, noha. i made it without problems in the microbus and noha met me at the town clock tower. we went back to her house where i met her kids (moises, raquel and rosita) and her house. her house is like many that i have passed by here in nicaragua and never thought i'd have the chance to enter into. the tin roof, the bare walls, the rooms separated by particle board. and in the midst of all the nothingness, there is the prized television set, speaker system, and collection of DVDS and CDs. cracks me up. kind of like the fact that Nicaragua is an extremely poor country w/ half the population living under the poverty line and yet i'm sure like 87% have a cell phone. explain that to me. when i ask about it, they tell me it's because land lines are more expensive. i think it's more of an image thing- so that they can seem like they have more money than they actually do. it was a chance that i'm sure the majority of tourists never get. she wasn't joking when she told me she was poor. this is the bathroom of the house:

quite an experience... we made a traditional nica food for lunch called baho. it has beef, plantains, onions, tomatoes, yuca, and is covered w/ plantain leaves before it is set to cook for hours over the fire. here's the finished product- quite tasty i might add, but i've yet to find a food here that i don't like:

here's the kicker. while we were chatting in the morning, noha told me that her 14 year old daughter was pregnant. so, i went with them as they talked to the boys family and the lawyer. and as awkward as it was since i'm not part of the family, it reminded me that we are all human beings, no matter what country we were born in and at the core, we feel, cry, and bleed at the same things. a hug and a supportive smile can transcend all sorts of language barriers. later in the evening, i got a ride around diriamba in a "motoneta", a popular taxi in small towns of nicaragua. have you ever been on "mr. toad's wild ride" at disneyland? well, it felt like that as we were cruising the cobblestone streets and zooming down hills... oh yes, and then we stopped at a street vendor to buy some cotton candy (algodon en spanish). who taught nicaraguans how to make cotton candy? then, i jumped behind the steering wheel. they wouldn't let me drive, but it made for a great picture.

for dinner, we had another great nica food- carne asada and then we went to the central park which is apparently the hotspot of town. i chatted w/a girl my age named marginee and was once again reminded that we are all essentially the same, no matter what cultural differences we have. we both have been called flirts by friends, have arguments w/ our parents, and want to get out and see the world we live in. i'm still amazed that i have enough spanish to carry on a real conversation. we headed back to the "house" and it was time for bed. i was put up in the room of noha and her husband, who selflessly gave it up for the comfort of me- their guest. i'm not quite sure where they slept, most likely cozied up with their two little ones on the other side of the particle board, where a chorus of "buenas noches" echoed before i finally drifted off to sleep, only to be woken by the crowing roosters outside, announcing the start of a new day.

"esta casa es triste, no?" noha asked me, "isn't this house sad?" i responded by telling her that it was lovely. the people in the states put so much emphasis on their things and their house is their pride and joy. and here, where the houses aren't all that much to look at, the value and character come from the people living inside of them. if i were only to look at the outward appearance of a house here, sure, it wouldn't seem to be much, but because of the people living inside, these are some of the sweetest homes i've ever been in.