frustrate me, Oh God.

So I just finished reading Septembers of Shiraz by Dalia Sofer. I finished it in a day because it had me so stressed out I didn’t want to drag that stress out throughout the week. Septembers of Shiraz is a novel about an Iranian Jewish family and their life during the Iranian Revolution. The father, Isaac Amin, ended up in jail and was accused of being a Zionist spy. The family was practically persecuted including their young daughter, Shirin. So yes, I was stressing out because this family never knew who was an actual friend and who was plotting against them. Anyway, it was an amazing book but I would suggest reading it while you’re in good spirits or else you’ll be stressing it like I was… unless you have a heart of stone, then read it whenever you want.

Ok so now to my life here. I’ve been trying to center myself spiritually before I actually start my GLT and its one of the most peaceful things I’ve ever experienced. Being by myself after 7 pm and meditating in the Lord’s presence, having the craziest conversations with Him about the hardest things in life, such as why some people are destined to live painful lives while others live in bliss. I’ve been thinking a lot about children who live and have lived through war. I think reading about Shirin in Septembers of Shiraz made me realize that all of us still have the heart of a child within us, the fear of a child, and although many disagree, I still feel we have some innocence left from our childhood. We cant all be corrupt there are still parts of us that are pure but once they are exposed to the idea that because we are adults, we must know better or we must be more experienced, we lose the beauty of innocence. On a personal note, I wish I were like the inner child of my brother sometimes, fearless when it comes to asking others questions or to getting close to people that he doesn’t know and automatically making a new friend. I think that’s one of the biggest things I lack, woo. I feel like I could have it if I stopped trying so hard, if when I looked at people I would see a relationship waiting to be made instead of thinking all the things that could go wrong, all the dumb things I could say to build a wall instead of a bridge. My biggest burden is the bits and pieces of knowledge I’ve acquired. Don’t get me wrong, knowledge is great, but for me it can become a hindrance for when I see someone different than me I automatically think of a book I read, a story I heard, a class I took on this or that or an anthropological study I want to make and I look at them as a case study rather than someone I would love to get to know. I need to pray for that to go away. The interruption of knowledge where there really should be childlike excitement, childlike woo that is not afraid to go up to someone, shake their hand, and just start a conversation. We’ll see how it goes for me… So back to children… I’ve been praying to understand why it is that the world is the way it is… I know a bunch of people and professors have given us the complicated answers that end up dooming humanity because of our own greed, stupidity, etc. but seriously, I truly believe there is good and evil in all of us and once we separate each other and say one is good and one is bad, we create these absurd “absolutes”, where there is no gray zone just black and white, Christian and non-Christian, conservative and evil liberal… stupid titles that lead all of us to lean more towards our evil side than rejoice in the good that has been placed in us.

I’ve also been struggling a lot with the idea of people “serving” me as in the house maid we have here in Esteli. Now we have three ladies that help out in the house. I know my aunt and uncle are very kind and they are fair bosses to these three ladies but I struggle with their place in our home. I see it in everyone’s house here because so many people have maids and some treat them worse than others. Just because you pay someone doesn’t mean they deserve to be mistreated or you deserve to be a lazy ass and get served wherever you are. I like the way one of my aunt’s sees the whole helper lady thing… “Yo tengo una colaboradora no una criada no una empleada, ella es una persona que trabaja igual que yo y recibe un sueldo porque me ayuda en lo que yo no puedo hacer en mi casa.” Translation: “I have a collaborator not a maid not an employee, she is a working woman just like I am and she receives a salary because she helps me with what I cannot do in my home.” Now I guess what I struggle with is the belittlement that people must endure when they work as maids here in Nicaragua. Some of these women get meager salaries and must work long days and nights and hardly ever get a vacation. Now from what I hear they are getting strict on enforcing the rights of women that work in homes because it is a decent job just like any other job and if anything it is one of the hardest jobs to have. Chances are the woman that works as a house maid doesn’t have a house maid of her own so she works from 6 am to 8 pm in a foreign home doing everything for a family and then she gets home and she does the exact same thing for her own family. It’s a never ending job. I’ve been thinking a lot about the way people talk to maids here in Nica and how these women address the people in the homes they work in. For example, I will forever treat Marinita, the lady that works at our house, as an “usted” for she is an adult and she deserves respect yet Marinita should treat me as a “vos” for I am a kid and she owes me nothing but no… Marinita has always treated me as an “usted” just as she treats all of my younger cousins as “ustedes”. Maybe I’m looking into this too much but no, I’m not… this is the reality of things. For example, why aren’t these women allowed to sit at the table with the family they work for? They are confined to eat on the ironing board in the room they work when there’s a big ass dining table that seats 8 and only 4 are seated. To me that’s illogical. I also noticed something else at my Cousin Claudia’s birthday party. My uncle and aunt invited Isabel, their helper lady, to Claudia’s party. Isa, as we call her, is used to attending all of our family functions because she is part of our family. Part of her day is spent just talking to us and joking with us. When Isa walked in to the party I got up to greet her and noticed strange glares towards her and I knew people were wondering what the house maid was doing at the family’s party. I was in shock because I never knew people could lose such respect for a fellow human being just because of their job. It brings me much joy to know that Isa is also a part time law student in the University here in Esteli. She is not only literate which is rare among women who work in homes, but she is extremely intelligent and I know that she’s gotten to where she is because she is a hard worker that doesn’t look at what others think of her but stands firm in what she thinks of herself. Isa eats lunch with us, Isa borrows my books, reads our magazines, even wears Claudia’s clothes if she feels like it. Now think of this… she’s a woman that has spent years working in a home watching three kids grow up, her job is extraordinary, she’s not sitting in a cubicle punching numbers, she’s part of a child’s development, she’s part of the idea of discipline a child will have, she also cares and spoils all of us. Isa is truly a collaborator, she sees where my aunt and uncle cannot and she makes herself available. So now I don’t get it, why do people belittle women that are so great and who without them Nicaraguan homes would surely fall apart? (I’m serious! On days where the helper lady isn’t in, it’s as if there’s nothing going on in the home because… oh shoot! People have to actually do something for themselves?) So I don’t understand this and now that I’ve spent such a long time writing about this I’ve realized that maybe I should investigate this… as in… taaa dahh!! I have found my Global Study Project! The treatment of domestic workers in Nicaragua. Join me on this journey as I discover what is good, what is unjust, what is true and what a misinterpretation is.

Ok now to what I miss, what I love, and I don’t have a funny story… sorry… I owe you one…just think of the funniest thing I’ve ever done in your presence, that’ll give you enough laughs.

What I miss

My mom, everyday more and more

My mom’s coffee and her tostadas

My brother’s hugs (ok now I’m tearing up… dang)

Karen Adriana Quintanilla

My bedside lamp

Horchata

I’m running out of books!!!

Maranatha… my church.

My Che and Bob Marley posters… we go way back.

What I love

Spending an entire day in my PJ’s with my aunt Alicia talking about everything…

Being the neighborhood hairstylist and make up artist… I should start charging.

Hugging my uncle Miguel… he’s a giant.

Having the sweetest conversations with my cousin Mauricio

Listening to Ricardo Arjona all day long

My relationship with God is going through some sweet things right now.

Aranes and our shared love for soccer

Walking and slipping in the rain

I can’t get over how much I love the coffee here… with rosquillas.

Knowing there’s always a reason to celebrate

Listening to Carlito’s music on Sunday mornings. He loves Celine Dion so he blasts her music so the whole town can hear.

The guard’s random whistling

I love Nicaragua… and this “What I miss, what I love” section in my blog really helps me out. J haha

p.s. the ¨j¨are supposed to be smileys... but I guess keyboards in Nicaragua don´t allow happiness. sad day.