Yesterday, I attended the 6th Annual Beaver Queen Pageant. A fundraiser for the Ellerbe Creek Watershed Association, the competition consisted of men and women dressing up as beavers (some in beaver drag), and parading around Duke Park while supporters were encouraged to bribe ridiculously costumed judges, with all proceeds going to benefit efforts to clean up a tiny urban creek. I'd estimate upwards of a thousand Durhamites turned out, and the organizers expected to raise over $10,000 through the beaver festivities. The day before, I went with my family and a friend to a free outdoor Folk concert in the beautifully restored American Tobacco district in Downtown Durham. For lunch today, we headed down Ninth Street to a Food Truck Feast, where hundreds of locals were waiting in massive lines to grab lunch off the Korean BBQ truck or the Only Burger truck or one of the other half-dozen trucks and carts that converged on the parking lot of Sam's Quick Shop this afternoon as part of an event that I believe was publicized exclusively over email lists, blogs, and community newspapers. And I just got back from a neighborhood block party a few blocks away from my house. It's all been very...Durham.
It's good to be home. It's great to be back in a place where the people take pride in their city. But man, it's weird to not be in Nicaragua anymore.
It didn't totally hit me until I said goodbye to Katie in Miami International Airport, when I left her at her Denver gate and I headed off for my flight to Durham. She was my last anchor to the semester, the last proof I had that my semester in Nicaragua really happened, that it wasn't a crazy dream. Big American airports all feel the same, and all of a sudden, I felt no different than I would feel connecting in Baltimore to get home after a semester at Brown. I was alone with nothing but a backpack of snacks and plane entertainment, surrounded by fast food and fast-moving Americans, just as I might be on any other trip. To make the transition extra bizarre, out of the hundreds of gates at MIA, the gate through which I boarded my flight back to RDU was exactly the same gate through which I boarded my flight to Managua. As I walked down the same jetbridge I'd walked down 16 weeks earlier, I couldn't help but wonder if I was actually just headed back to my home with Doña Eva in La Máximo.
But I ended up in a different home this time.
And then headed off with the fam to my cousin's wedding in LA.
And then flew back to Brown to say goodbye to senior friends, work for Reunion Weekend (I got to be flag bearer again!), and furnish our senior year house for our summer subletters while fighting off a fever that got my family panicked about deadly Nicaraguan viruses.
And now I'm sitting on my bed at 2102 Englewood, struggling to come up with some way to close this thing out.
Let's start with some meta-blogging. I've never been a big diary person. I'm not one of those people who write for fun, or to get out angsty feelings, or to express artistic impulses. Pushing myself to keep a regular blog for four months was a step out of my comfort zone, but it turned out to be one of the best decisions I made during this journey. I started this blog with the intention of simply getting updates out about my life to those who wanted them, but it turned into something much more important for me. By forcing myself to take time on my own to process what I was experiencing and write out my thoughts, I believe I gained a deeper appreciation and understanding of everything that was happening to me and around me. For giving me that opportunity, I'm extremely grateful to all those who encouraged me to start and maintain this thing, and to those whose blogs from semesters past showed me the way.
Back in the States, this blog has saved me a lot of story-telling time. A surprising number of people have started conversations with me by saying something like, "I read your blog, so I kind of know already, but tell me about..." I never got around to embedding a tracker on this blog, so I didn't realize how many people were reading it. It was never intended to be private, but still, it's kind of odd when you hear that relatives of your neighbors have been regularly reading about your life. I even got a message from a total stranger who stumbled across my blog and wants a copy of my ISP once I translate it into English. I'm famous!
But for those to whom my blog could not speak on my behalf, the question remains: How was my semester? I spent a good chunk of time my first few days back formulating answers of various depths to that question so I'd be ready for social interactions of any length. I developed everything from the one-liner, good for those distant family friends who are only asking to be polite, to the 10-minute highlight reel for close friends that includes a description of each homestay, an outline of the seminar, a couple choice adventures, and a rundown of my final project.
The reality is, however, that no social interaction (at least, no enjoyable one) could be long enough for me to fully explain what exactly I experienced in Nicaragua. But that's OK. I don't want to attempt to tell it all, and likely, no one really wants to hear it all. I have to be satisfied with sharing what I can. What's important is that I remember what happened. That I remember where I went, who I met, and what Nicaragua taught me.
So to close out this blog, I'm going to indulge myself in some photo-sentimentality, and answer those three questions with some favorite pics from my time as a Nica. Thanks for reading, folks. It meant a lot to me to know that so many people cared about what I was up to. I'm gonna take a break from The Gene Pool now, at least for a little while, so feel free to purge me from your blog readers, un-bookmark me, and/or choose a new homepage. But who knows? If I feel like I have something worth writing about again, maybe I'll dive back in.
Abrazos from the Bull City,
Gene
I went...
...to a capital city without a soul.
...to the top of an inactive volcano...
...and an active one.
...to a neighboring country that suffered unthinkable torments.
...to the most beautiful island I've ever seen.
...to gorgeous colonial cities with thriving centers.
...to a community that was torn apart by civil war and then reborn.
...to a region fighting for autonomy and the right to protect its culture.
I met...
...a loving Nicaraguan mom.
...a one-day Caribbean mama.
...a group of incredible students.
...a spunky campesina grandma and her loving family.
...an unbelievably dedicated and wise staff.
...some Nicaraguan college friends.
...and a best friend from home.
I learned...
...the chaotic history of a beautiful country.
...how to (kind of) speak a second language.
...that the chasm between the rich and poor is truly enormous.
...that piglets are the cutest animals in the world.
...what it means to have your entire livelihood depend on a single natural resource.
...that citizens deserve safe public spaces outside of malls.
...about the value of a loving community.
...about the power of communication.
...that it takes a lot of work to earn an Organic mark on your coffee beans.
...that hipsters exist in Managua.
...that you can fit more people in a brightly-painted ex-American school bus than you could possibly imagine.
...what it means to be truly isolated.
...how powerful propaganda can be.
...how to let yourself go and enjoy the moment.
...that corruption is harder to fight than you might think.
...that America's influence over Central America is staggering.
...that economics is way complicated.
...that ex-guerrilla tai-chi instructors can still get down at a disco.
...that a lot can change in 15 years.
...that Nicaraguans make excellent Chinese food.
...what poverty is.
...that I can conduct a serious research project in Spanish and be proud of the results.
...from whence my friends draw their strength.
...that Nicas don't stop going out to party just because they get older.
...that running water is a blessing.
...that children need to be loved.
Thanks for sharing your life these past few months. I feel like I know so much more about Nicaragua and its people because of the student blogs. Many of you have a great talent in expressing your experience. My husband and I were a bit concerned about Cassie traveling to Central America, but we are happy that she had the courage to do it and the opportunity to meet all of you and so many great people in Nicaragua and the surrounding area. I can only imagine that life has great things in store for you. I hope that you approach each new experience with the same zeal you did these past 4 months and that you too will still be partying long past the graying of your hair. God bless you Gene.
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