Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Moving towards a Nicaragua book...

Good progress has been made in the last couple of days!

Yesterday, we visited the home of the 3 sisters in our class whom we would like to highlight, and it turns out there are nine siblings in total! Outside their home are 4 giant tubs of water which were standing full, something that only happens once every eight days when the “Agua Potable” truck comes rumbling by, kicking up a dust-storm in its track.

Behind the house is a “finca” (farm, though mostly uncultivated) stretching across the hills with barely a house in site. The three sisters must have show us every prickly plant and pretty flower and hovering bird on the premises, and were terribly exited to show us these natural secrets of their land. It's amazing how quickly kids can become comfortable with you, and us with them – I already feel so familiar with them that I will be sad to say goodbye in only 3 days.

This morning the sister’s father took us on a behind-the-scenes tour of the finca. Unfortunately, even though I stuck my head way into the tree where a sloth (“el perezoso”, or lazy one) lives – and poops down occasionally – he was way up in the heart of the tree, just out of sight. We got a good whiff of him and some shots of his home, at least. The finca had beautiful, if dusty, rolling hills and thick trees and vines that require saber-toothed machetes to pass through. There is an incredible difference in the dry and wet seasons here – now, in the dry season, there is no rain, no water (thus the weekly agua truck), and only prickly bushes and trees with thick, waxy flowers. In the wet season, though, the entire depression behind the sister’s house is filled with 5-6 feet of water, making an instant lagoon. This is also the season for growing tomates, frijoles, and maize.

A final note – if anyone is looking for a fabuloso Nicaraguan singer-songwriter to make famous, I’ve got one here. Ernesto allowed me to film him as he played Nicaraguan folk songs, some modern pieces, and even his own work, and anyone would be slightly in love. He sings songs of youth, love, dreams, hope, pobreza, the environment… a Nicaraguan Jack Johnson, quizas?

1 comment:

  1. It sounds like such a beautiful place, though difficult to live in. I can't imagine being dependent on a truck to bring my water. Those people must have some incredibly powerful stories to tell.