Costa Jill

Staff and volunteers at El Porvenir office

We spent our last days back in Managua getting a tour of the main office of El Porvenir, meeting the dedicated staff, getting a taxi tour of the central market, and the highly guarded, decorated and chain-linked waterfront. We climbed the semi-active Volcan Masaya, and ended the experience being taken to dinner by Rob Bell, the director of the El Porvenir office.

Central Market Managua

On the Waterfront

Taking our last evening walk, we were urged to be in before dark, not to wear jewelry, cameras or purses, and to watch our backs. Graffiti covered every space, but only Sandanista graffiti. The major area of employment could be security guards from the numbers of men we saw in uniforms with big guns, behind chain-link fences. In front of the baseball stadium stood a huge statue of the Sandanista hero Gen. Augusto Sandino. Across the street was a retrospective of the Sandanista Party behind the ubiquitous chain-link fence. Since we were protected by the gun-carrying guard, I took out my camera to record this history and Bob. While he was flashing a few of me with poet Ruben Dario and Gen Augusto Sandino, a guard came up to him from behind, sticking two fingers into his neck. Bob, startled, turned, ready to fight. “What’re you doing?”

“You wanna keep your camera? And your life? Then put that away before you leave this exhibit.” (In Spanish)

“Por Supuesto!” Bob agreed quickly. “Muchisimas gracias!” we thanked him for the warning and safely returned to the hotel, watching our backs.

The Sandanista retrospective was an impressive mix of history, poetry, sculpture and graffiti recording a fight for freedom through the years. But what has happened? Crime is rampant. So many people in the country live without water and toilets. The socialist ideal of a “system in which the means of production and distribution are controlled by the people and operated according to equity and fairness” has deteriorated to the point of the second-time president  Daniel Ortega, owning one of the largest hotels (The Seminole Hotel) and casinos in town. A socialist turned capitalist? That money certainly isn’t going to the people that need it most.

Graffiti in Managua

Well, life is never fair, but let’s keep fighting to make it so. To end on a positive note, thanks to Water for People; and the non-profit, El Porvenir, on it’s 20^th anniversary, should be tremendously honored for having completed 600 projects and helped over 70,000 people in Nicaragua. Both non-profits have pages on Facebook. Become a fan and get involved.

Dario, Jill, Sandino

Riding the roads in the back of the truck

A few statistics on Nicaragua:

· $1028 – Second lowest per capita income in the Americas

· 48% of population live below poverty line

· 30 – 40% of homes have a woman head of household

· President – Daniel Ortega – Sandanista Party – for the 2^nd time.

Two of our traveling companions, one from the U.S. and one from Nicaragua, are political history buffs. During our many hours of traveling to and from our survey sites we had plenty of time for lively, interesting, informative discussions on the history, culture and politics of Nicaragua; the latter being incendiary, difficult, multi-faceted, dangerous, murky. What’s the truth? I’m not sure. I can only give you my observations.

Fighting rooster atop ring-legal in Nicaragua

In the isolated countryside, life goes on as it has for 100’s of years. There’s no time for anything but surviving in the simplest manner. Lack of money, jobs and transportation keeps subsistence farming alive. The simple homes of either handmade clay bricks or gleaned wood are clean.

Our survey was to inspect the condition and use of the latrines (installed in the last two years) and the older water systems in the area surrounding El Sauce. If the results are good, the Water for People funding will continue. And they were.

· Almost all households were headed by women.

· All agreed to allow us to view the latrines and answer questions about use and cleanliness.

· All latrines were clean and most decorated.

· All the people we talked to were friendly, open and educated in water use.

· No households had indoor water or plumbing.

Public school-one teacher for 150 kids

The exception was in public institutions – both schools and health clinics. The older latrines, not installed by El Porvenir and WFP, were in bad condition, generally not functioning. There were few if any supplies or books. The buildings were rundown and in need of repair. When I asked about the sad conditions, I was told that education and health care were free, but the government “won’t put its money where its mouth is.” And “Since they’re “free”, the government won’t accept private funds when offered.” What?

Unusable school latrines

When we returned to Managua, the political center of the country, the contrast was extreme. Nothing like the bucolic countryside filled with simple hard-working people. That’s the next and last story from Nicaragua.

El Porvenir Staff, El Sauce

Jimmy stays with us at the only hotel in town, El Blanco, run by a Katherine Zeta Jones look-alike, with an added Latin American plumpness. Elvis lives in El Sauce and is finally able to go home. I decide to enter the data from the previous afternoon and give thanks that Jimmy is staying in the next room and comes to my call with help on the myriad extra steps one must take on the PC I’ve borrowed from his office.

Mercedes in her kitchen

We start the morning at the El Porvenir staff’s favorite restaurant, Mercedes’ Kitchen, and that’s all it really is. She opens her home and we enter the kitchen and look in all the pots to decide what we want. Of course there’s gallo pinto (a mix of yesterday’s red beans and rice) that is the mandatory filler for a hard day’s work, then eggs, fruit, tortillas, and meat. Coffee is drunk short, sweet and dark, not like in my adopted country of Costa Rica where it’s big and creamy with milk.

Water Source, Rope Well

Elvis handles the truck like a professional semi driver and takes us immediately off the paved road into billows of dust and heat. We split up on gender lines: the men and Bob survey most of the water sources, both springs and wells, the women and myself do most of the household surveys. In each small community the houses are clustered 6 – 12 together in the drought-ridden countryside for both family and economic support. They tend domestic animals, small gardens, children, hornos (outdoor bread baking ovens). We are always invited in to sit on the plastic chairs they stack in the corner and use only if a visitor arrives. A hammock is slung across the bare but cleanly swept dirt floor, and the prized, nod-to-technology TV winks from the corner. All washing and most of the cooking is done outside. And in every yard, usually decorated and always clean, is the recently installed vented latrine surrounded by grazing animals and a healthy garden.

Pastoral with Latrine

Horno - bread oven

How can I ask these humble strangers from a simpler time the most difficult questions on the survey? “May I see your latrine? Do all of you use it? When do you wash your hands? They may be simple but they’re not stupid. Find out next posting along with the other hard questions I must ask in this volatile Sandanista powered country – their politics.