Weighing kids, cooking classes, and pickup trucks

So in some of the rural towns we have programs where monthly, workers from the health center and volunteers go and weigh children from the age of 2 and under. This is tracked, and the mothers counseled if their child is underweight, or losing weight. Many times the counseling bit gets overlooked, but it’s still nonetheless a good program. UNICEF a while back donated this scale system.<
Which is actually really terrifying for the poor kids. They hang in this sack shown here, but kids are top heavy. And the sack always makes like it’s going to flip over and dump the kids out. Many have learned to cry upon entering the health center, others when they see the thing. Others cry while in the scale, squirming all around, making it impossible to get a reading on their weight. There are a few though, that think it’s a blast and laugh, and jump up and down, and refuse to get out.





We had an NGO come into town, and we had a cooking lesson with the pregnant women in the Casa Maternal, (like a halfway house where women at risk, and from rural areas come to wait to give birth, as to avoid risks of a home birth)

So I´ve always liked Toyota pickup trucks. When I was in Honduras in 2003, we had a Tacoma which we loaded with I think it was 18 people, a day of water, food, and cement up a pretty harsh dirt mountain road. The thing never failed us. Only minorly once, and that was the mud’s fault. Here in Nicaragua Toyota Highlanders are the trucks of choice. The Health Department has this terribly beat up white truck that sometimes when instigated makes quite a ruckus. We took this truck out to a rural community earlier this week, and hour and a half ride with medicines, 3 nurses, 2 doctors, me and the driver. (My back is still sore!) On the way to the town we had to go up and down hills one looked like a wall, it was so steep. We spent the day weighing babies, doing consults, (nothing exciting like delivering babies, or chopped off thumbs. After we had to go out and track down an at risk pregnant lady whose husband wouldn’t let her come to the health post (we drove the 1.5 hours out there, and he won’t let her walk the 10 min! gotta love machismo!) She’s 38, had a cesarean, and lives 1.5 hours away from our little health center and that’s on a good day. Well the drive got the truck stuck, I think he was being too cautious, and was going to slow, and the mud caught the truck. So we walked up to the ladies house. Of course the husband wouldn´t let her come with us, because of course he´s a man and knows what’s best for his wife over the doctors (well we were all women, so what did we know) (again gotta love el machismo)) (btw not all men are like that, just the few bitter ones) Well anyway it rained, really hard. and the roads were in pretty rough shape, and that good ol´ truck chugged its way back up the muddy slippery slopes getting us home safely. My little ford would have been no match.

So I was visiting with a friend of mine yesterday, in her little store when I was pleasantly surprised to see a young Nicaraguan (probably 16) stroll in with an almost brand new UMaine tee. I asked him where he bought it, and he told me in a used clothes store. What are the odds!?

So I was thinking the other day about how I never saw kids in the US. Being surrounded by kids all the time is a fairly new thing for me, and ya know it’s not that bad. The other night I was playing with the twins and some of their friends (they´re all like 5-9 in age adoooorable) a game kinda like London Bridge except you get to knock everyone down afterwards. As always there was a group of men hanging out on the street corner (Not drunk though! just bored). So this one kiddo, Estrella, is this tubby little 6 year old. She and I get along well though. Any who that kid has some umf. She took me out probably three times in a row, which was rather embarrassing because of the guys on the street. But ya know I get to play the silly American role, and laugh it off and everyone just says awww look at that foolish American girl. (la Negrita Gringa as some kid called me the other week). In the states kids are kinda hidden away. In college I think the only time I saw anyone under the age of 18, was when I was walking past the daycare. Then living in working after college, I still never saw kids, and if I did notice them, its because they were either getting yelled at by some trashy mom in walmart, or raising hell in the grocery store. This is a nice contrast from the last couple years sans-kidddoos (although they still can be obnoxious but that’s the name of the game i guess). I´m still intimidated by the kids over 12 (I remember what I was like..!) but some of the highschoolers are proving to be fun. I played soccer last week with some of the girls (hombre chon aka tomboys) and we demolished the boy´s team, 10-2. It was highly satisfying, and you don´t need to speak Spanish to play soccer just yell aqui aqui a few times and you´re all set (here here!). Well I can see this turning into a rambling hazel-mess so im out!

Here is a shot of a preschool, not the same one as earlier. When its hot out they meet under this Mamon tree. Its a little fruit with a hard green shell. Inside its pink and soft, and somewhat acidic. Quite tastey.





the kids all get lunch here. The teachers have told me that when the food runs out for the month, their attendence drops







Here is one of my youth groups (Im up to two!) The meeting got a little dull towards the end. We talked about decision making, and anti-contraceptives. (well I didn´t really talk, the guy who was helping me out did most of the work...)

Today was a difficult day. I was visiting with a friend, and her son came home, he´d skipped out on church. The grandmother was pretty upset about this, grabbed a whip and started hitting the guy. I started yelling, and walked out. I made it maybe a block and half, and started balling. I went to talk to some other friends of mine about it. They all told me that I´d just have to get accustomed to it. No one had a single drop of sympathy for me. They all denounced violence, but said its the only way some kids learn. I went back to my friend´s house, appolagized to the grandmother, saying that I did over react. Things went back to normal. But I´m still really angry. Its hard having something that I want to fight, and KNOW that I can´t. No one here has stepped up to the challege. Change has to be internal, not from some foriegner from a different culture, that can barely speak the lanaguage. The grandmother said she didn´t hit him hard, and just over his jeans. Other kids have it much worse, I don´t want to get into that. I guess, the way she explained it to me, made it sound a lot like the ¨spanking¨that most of us were raised with. That seemed harmless. But where/is there a line between discipline and violence?

The first picture I´ve already posted, but I dont know how to delete it. The others are from my host family.

So I live on 4000 chords a month, which is about 200 dollars. That rate changes as the dollar does, but it stays right around that. Its what most teachers make,and have to provide for the families with. I can´t imagine, its hard enough for just me to feed, buy house supplies, transport, and the periodic entertainment. I can´t imagine how it is for people with family members. The teachers make so little, that they don´t pay taxes.
Here is an interesting article about the embassador here. He served in the embassy in Honduras during the contra wars, and now is in Nicaragua, making his appointment somewhat contraversial. I like him, he seems like a decent, personable fellow, but I´m not super familiar with his politics. But this was interesting. http://www.nicatimes.net/nicaarchive/2008_09/092608.htm