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Yesterday morning I enjoyed my last Nicaraguan desayuno (breakfast), savoring the locally grown volcanic mountain coffee, the rice & plantains with everything, the papayas big as a small child. I know Gallo Pinto is poor man’s food, but it’s healthy and delicious and I am too lame (or over-processed) to have ever made it at home, I will miss it. Even more than the food,I will miss dining in buildings with no walls, just open air onto beaches, gardens, or Plaza central. I long to see geckos scampering around our bedroom, and to be liberated from the manacles of my scheduler for another week.
Through the misery of American Air travel, we re-entered the atmosphere in stages. One, P began to enjoy the fact that he could comprende what everyone around us was saying again.
Two, my very first priority upon reaching Miami from Managua: find a Starbucks and get a big, tall cup of hot water. Not that crappy overpriced, worker-exploitive coffee-just hot water so I could brew us some REAL chinese tea which I missed terribly. We bought 2 pastries as well, which cost about 5 bucks.
"God that’s like 90 cordobas!" , he mutters into my ear.
One could buy 4 servings of Vigaron, a full meal with that kind of $$ in Plaza Colon. Yucca (Casava), shredded cabbage salad, ginormous Chicarrone (yes, that is fried pork skin), with lemon and pickles.
"What a rip-off! Rip off! You are not going to hear the end of this for years…" I replied.
"And so begins your depression again" P observes. I guess that’s step 3.
In San Juan del Sur we looked up El faro Panaderia, a bakery run my a youth center. We ordered two pastries there, and were charged about 30 US cents. Needless to say we went back the same night and bought 5 more pastries. I am sure that everywhere we traveled the locals marveled at how incredibly us two Chinos could eat!
Step four: My so called depression deepened as I accessed my voicemail: 8, all from work. From my main job, from my private practice, and from my contracting work. Oh, and also calls regarding my commissioner position and an event we are planning for next month. Groan.
P checks the home VM.
3 telemarketers, 2 loved ones wishing us Happy Songkran (Thai New year) while we were away, and 1 bank checking on why in hell were we charging stuff in Nicaragua.
Also came the news we had been sheltered from about the homicidal rampage of a troubled young Korean man in Virginia. I got concerned work calls about that as well.
Do I want to do assessments for community probation again. Can I do a didactic training in 2 weeks. When will I finish my part of a community violence forum. Important stuff surely. But enough to send me on a plane or horsecart back to a place where no one thinks of me as a professional anything, and the biggest worry of each day was whether I would have the physical stamina for each days’ ambitious activity (kayaking/volcano hiking/swimming) in the relentless heat.
We were picked up by my Querida mama, with my aunt along for the ride. Greeted cheerfully despite the fact she had circled an entire hour while we waited for our bags & had to resucitate my houseplants while we were away. Greeted with a chinese bakery pink box stuffed with egg custard tarts and BBQ pork buns.
By the time we entered our door, it was close to 2 am.
P turns the key and we step inside.
I looked around and said, "We’re rich."
Carpets, kitchen, TV bigger than me, 2 cars in the garage, consistently hot running water… It now seemd roomy enough for at least 6 families. I thought of those endless rows of shanty towns, the walls patched together with scrap wood, roofs of thatch or corrugated metal. Though I had seen & walked among poverty before, the incredible, endless extent of it in Nicargua was overwhelming. I felt embarassed at all the clothes I owned, all the food we waste each week.
We hugged each other close in our giant king sized bed, luxuriating in the change of perspective that comes with now being rich people, adjusting (poorly) to what now feels like freezing cold weather, and then steeling ourselves for the final re-entry phase; back to the offices Thursday morn.
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