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Well it's all over, and you are all probably wondering, as am I, was it worth it? Did I get what I expected? What did I learn? So let's start with the first week here, when we were supposed to write down our three goals for the trip, that should be a good first indication. I wrote:

1. Learn Spanish: Check. That goes without saying. I learned mucho Spanish, more than I could have learned in the states. I also learned I have a long way to go.
2. Learn Engineering and renewable appropriate energy applications in the developing world: Check. I know all about off grid photovoltaic systems, how people pay for them, how/why they help, and about solar ovens, solar dryers, small businesses in the developing world, etc.
3. Something about culture: Yes. I ate gallo pinto every day and I know several swear words and obscene hand gestures in Spanish. While living with a host family I learned what life is like for the average Jose, and I also learned to like rum. Most significantly, I learned how people live without running water, trash disposal, electricity, supermarkets, etc. And how renewable and appropriate technology can create better lifestyles and jobs in that sector using solar autoclaves, solar ovens, solar food dryers, etc.
   

That's a start but that can't be it... What else? Well if this trip leaves one lasting impression on me, it's the idea of a socially, culturally, and environmentally responsible business. Grupo Fenix, Suni Solar, Salud del Sol are all great examples. I met two different people from California who moved down here for just that reason, one working with solar energy and the other with eco-friendly real estate.  It adds a sense of enjoyment and passion to one's work. And yes, sometimes you make more money if you ignore those things. Yes we capitalists are raised from day one thinking money, money, money; the bottom line is what matters. But I think UD taught us better than that.  I quote Einstein, "Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius — and a lot of courage — to move in the opposite direction."  Sometimes being socially and environmentally responsible means less profit, but not if you're good enough, not if you're bold enough. And I think we're good enough. So that's what I'll take from ETHOS, that's what I'll put in my pocket and save for later, that's what I think will stay with me when the memories fade.

I may decide to continue writing here, so feel free to check back, but I'm not sure how often and what I'll be writing about. I have lots more thoughts on ETHOS, but no time to write them now, maybe they will make it up here later.

Thanks for reading,
-Vince
--  Oliver Wendell Holmes (and Brother Phil's email signature)

Friday, July 25th I officially leave Nicaragua.  I land that evening.  Here's your last and most spectacular TWI

• Cockroaches: don't like them.  Earlier this week, I saw a cockroach in my room, but this day was different than most days. Any other day that cockroach should be terrified that a giant leather and rubber fist of God labeled ADIDAS would squash his life from this earth, but not on this day.  I thought to myself, "he's done nothing wrong, and at the slightest provocation will scamper back into his little hole and out of my life." Maybe because I've grown accustomed to insects in my room? Maybe I was lazy? Maybe it was because I was out of toilet paper and didn't know how to remove his corpse from the premises, into the water-jug-cut-in-half cockroach graveyard that doubles as my trash bin? This day it seemed acceptable to cohabitate with a cockroach.*  It did not, however, yet seem acceptable to cohabitate with rats. (This last sentence we call 'foreshadowing') 

• I was reading my book on my bed the other day, and I frequently hear squeaking in the gap between the top of the wall and the corrugated metal roof. I usually thought it was my fan. But after the squeaking came some noises that sounded like something moving, then... Then a rat fell from the ceiling and landed on the edge of my bed, about two feet from where my head was. It ran away and was never seen again.  I wasn't worried though, I was actually very happy that this happened when I was awake and lucid, because raining rats at night, in the dark, would have scared the HELL out of me. 

• This week is Grupo Fenix's Solar Culture Course, which is an "introduction to the science and use of appropriate renewable energy technologies such as solar cookers, dryers and photovoltaic systems." (from the website).  It is 11 days long, takes place here in Nicaragua, and the course fee is $995, plus transportation.  The point of the story is I got to meet and talk to people who speak English in the 2 days they spent here in Managua, and I also went to visit Volcano Masya with them, with some good pictures if I can get them from somebody... The point of the story is also that if you are interested in renewable energy and want a vacation in the rolling hills of Nicaragua, check out the link above.

• Always wanted to learn how to build a solar powered oven? Me too!  Salud del Sol has posted a manual on the construction of Solar Cookers, in both English and Spanish. 

• Vince's 3 rules of traveling:
• Never let fear motivate you. This isn't to say throw judgement out the window, but every time I hesitate to do something because I'm worried about language, strange places, new adventures... When I decide the affirmative I've never regretted it. This translates roughly to a favorite saying of mine: "Bad decisions make good stories" (to reiterate: 'bad' decisions referring to the feeling of fear or apprehension, NOT decisions which compromise safety or morals)
  
• Never say later. As a rule, traveling is harder the older you get. Later is never better, and "next year" usually never comes. Do it now.
• Never, ever ever ever say "Only one week left and I still haven't gotten sick!!" because karma goes double when you're on the road... 

•  My last flight out got canceled and I didn't arrive home until Saturday (instead of Friday) which is why this post is one day late. I still have a final post coming, so check back tomorrow or Tuesday!

 It's good to be back,
Vince

*This might indicate I've been here too long

My plane lands tomorrow, July 25th, around 5 pm.  For the second and not the last time this year, my world pulls a 180 and I say goodbye to everyone I've lived and worked with.  That's alot of goodbyes for one year.  I have one final TWI and a 'Final Thoughts' sort of post, but I'm going to wait until I arrive home to post them, so be sure to check back Saturday and Sunday to hear the dramatic conclusion.


This post has to be quick so I can finish up my work today, but to hold you over until Saturday, here is a preview.  Two years ago I studied abroad in London and Italy for the summer, and it was my first time living over seas for more than a week or two.  Between programs, I stopped in an internet cafe to write about the conclusion of our London program.  I recently found what I wrote, it was saved in my email 'drafts' section. I thought it would be a good prologue to my final thoughts on Nicaragua.

Jon and I are sitting in the internet cafe, our entire lives in suitcases next to us waiting to leave for Brussels and for the past hour I've been writing paragraph after paragraph on my afterthoughts, what I learned, and what I gained from the program, every time starting over because it doesn't really begin to cover what the program was about, so I give up.  Go live in another country for a month (I know some of you have) and you still won't have an idea of what this was like, but at least you will know why I can't describe it.  If you're in college, finish reading this article, find your study abroad office and your financial aid office, and tell them you want to go to another country.  It's easier to work out than you think, and there may not be another time you get an experience like this, ever.  Forget about summer jobs, you can work next summer.  Your friends will still be there when you get back, or bring them with you. In fact, bring me with you.

London down, Italy to go.
-Vince

There you have it, a preview of Vince after he studies abroad.


The last TWI will be up Saturday, and my final thoughts should be up Sunday.

Adios,
Chente

As I wrap up my time in Nicaragua, and the fact that soon I won't be living here really sets in, I started thinking about here and there. To give you an idea of the difference, here are 5 Things I Miss From The States:


1. Constant Caffeine Access: This seems unintuitive since I'm living in a major coffee producing economy, but the coffee just isn't there. maybe it has to do with my inability to locate it, maybe it has to do with the fact that college towns cater to caffeine addicts like me with several coffee shops open to obscene hours. I want coffee on demand and I don't have it... yet

2. Food Variety: I eat the same thing ever day (Gallo Pinto, or fried beans and rice), because that's what they do here. Sometimes they ask me "what's a typical (breakfast, lunch or dinner) in the states?" and they look for me to say: I eat pancakes for breakfast. Every day. Because 'typical' meals exist here, as in they often eat the same thing.

3. Ease of Communication: It takes a strong constant mental effort to communicate. It's a consistent mental load that never goes away; I'm imagining a huge weight being lifted from my shoulders as I get back to the states, and my brain letting out a big sigh for one less thing to think about. I'll walk up to the cashier and open my mouth, and exactly what I want will quickly fly out without me even thinking about it, and into his or her ear and he or she will know exactly what it is. And I will smile.

4. Hot Water: I've found it pretty easy to accommodate myself to lack of modern conveniences (although I have it easy living in a big city, compared to the other students living in the countryside). After awhile we humans just come to accept what we're used to... except for cold showers. I'm not a morning person, and a sudden douse of cold water is a rude awakening.

5. Beer. We Americans know beer. There are two beers here, there is no choice between light, dark, ale, lager, draught, bottle, there's just beer #1 and beer #2. Both are mediocre-at-best lagers, both made by the same company. It's like having nothing but Bud heavy and MGD in the states, in every bar and restaurant ever. Think about it... it's a nightmare. Some places have imported beer, but the only ones I've seen are Heineken, Corona, and... only once... MGD. None of which I would call representative of the quality of beer elsewhere (read: I hate Corona).


And of course, this list wouldn't be complete without 5 Thins I Will Miss From Nicaagua:

1. Gallo pinto: Okay I said I don't like the variety, but Gallo Pinto is delicious and an icon of Nicaragua. It's also probably not great for you (if you eat it twice a day) so I won't miss it that much... however I look forward to the day, 5, maybe 6, maybe 20 months later when I finally cook it or eat it and a flood of Nicaraguan memories and images resurface.

2. Mexican Nuns: The two Mexican nuns living down the road are two of the nicest people I have ever met, and I'll miss them. See the hot sauce articles.

3. Speaking Spanish: I know, I know... this is a contradiction from #4 above, but in reality I want to speak two languages with the ease that I am able to speak one, and being here is the best way to do it. It will be infinitely harder and my progress infinitely slower learning Spanish in the states.

4. Sense of Reality.This is the big one. This is the moral of the ethos program; the reason we came; how we're supposed to feel after we return. After living here, the built environment in (parts of) the states seems surreal. In contrast, it is very apparent here how people interact with the world and its resources. In the US, water is hot, garbage disappears, lights turn on, food appears in the fridge, all by... magic; without thought, without consequence. Here, the flaws and kinks in the system remind you where and how all that stuff gets there. In Nicaragua power goes out, house wiring fails, garbage is very visible in the streets because of the lack of a well placed disposal system and in the campo garbage has to be burned. Electricity is expensive. At night, if you have no money, you have no way to see... your world is pitch black by 7. As a result of all this, it's easier to be mindful of one's own interaction with resources. In the US, it's so easy to forget because everything is so effortless; nobody considers where these things come from or go to. I'm not saying it's bad, although maybe it is. It's an inevitable byproduct of development. Its social implications and environmental effects and the corresponding solutions is a whole other discussion that I won't get into here, even though I have opinions :). The point is, when I get home, it'll all feel fake, like I'm being fooled, and like the world is bending over backwards for my convenience even though I don't need it or deserve it. Where does garbage go? Why can we afford to buy a $200 vacuum? Air conditioning on full blast, drive 3 hours in a car for the hell of it, leave the lights on at night... who cares? The plane ride back alone is more than most people we have worked with will ever afford, and why do we deserve it? I know because when I spent a weekend in Disney world, that's exactly how everything felt. I'm guessing after a month or two the poison will have set in and I'll throw away styrofoam lunch trays and take 20 minute hot showers without thinking about it. After that my ETHOS experience will turn into a line on my resume and a story to tell in bars, and the moral lessons will be slowly eroded by the American Dream--having more than everyone else. Time will change a sense of ugliness into complacency and there's nothing I can do... is there? I'd love for somebody to post a comment and tell me how wrong I am. But nobody will. Because all of us ethos students will in one months time drive cars, take hot showers, buy coffee and bananas imported from thousands of miles away because goddamnit we like bananas.

5. On a lighter note... Rum. These people know rum. The same company that makes the only two beers, also makes the only rum. What they lack in selection, they make up in quality. The rum is super cheap, and super good. I never liked rum in the states, but this stuff is wonderful. I'll bring some home for you.


That's all for today,
Chente


P.S. Sorry for the cynicism and sarcastic self-defamation and big words in #4, I've been reading alot of Dave Eggers lately. The good news is I'll fit in just fine at Berkeley.

Author's Note 7/21/08: When I wrote this post, I changed my blog colors to red and black. What I didn't think about is how awkward these jokes would be after I changed my colors back to normal. Please excuse the next few poorly planned jokes.

I know what you're thinking... Red and Black?? What happened to the hippie tree-hugger earth tones symbolizing the never ending crusade to save the environment using renewable energy? WHAT'S THE DEAL

Well, readers, this past Saturday was the 29th anniversary of the 19th of July 1979, when the Sandinistas took power ending the revolution. Think of it as 4th of July for the Sandinistas. Black and Red are the official colors of the FSLN (initials of the Sandinista party). Now that I have an excuse for my hideous clashing colors*, let's get on with the SECOND TO LAST(!) TWI...

The Second To Last(!!) TWI: 7/14 - 7/20

• This Saturday, my host Dad, Jessica (another volunteer), one of the Mexican Nuns, and I went to the celebration of the anniversary of the evolution in the plaza in Managua. It was filled with hundreds of thousands of Nicaraguans with red and black scarves, flags, clothes, etc. Notable speakers included Daniel Ortega (the current president, a Sandinista [of course]), Hugo Chávez, Evo Morales, and the wife and daughter of Che Guevara.

• Cute story: One of the revolution songs is sang to the tune of John Lennon's "Give Peace a Chance." Ready to learn a socialist revolutionary song? Here goes, with Lennon's lyrics on top and the Sandinista remix under (roughly translates to "what we want is work (as in jobs) and peace"):
• All we are saaayy- iinnn, is give peace a chaannce
• Lo que quereee-mmmos, es tra - bajo y paazz

• While at this rally, a passing Nica (ok he could've been from another country, we'll call him a spanish-speaker) noticed that maybe I'm not from Nicaragua, and asked if I'm studying in the UCA (Universidad Centro America) and I said no, the UNI (Universidad Nacional de Ingeniería). All this, of course, in Spanish. Here's what happened next: He understood me, and FIST BUMPED ME! Let me say that again, I talked with a strange Spanish speaker and communicated well enough that I got fist bumped! I'm practically fluent.

• And now, pictures! First of the celebration:

• Now, a few pictures from my trip to León (not actually this week).

I have lots more stuff to post, so I'll probably be posting several times this last week, so keep an eye out so you don't miss any!

Hasta Luego,
Chente

*The author in no way affiliates himself with FSLN or the Sandinistas, and the visit to the rally and blog colors are merely an attempt to immerse himself in the culture, and claims complete ignorance as to whether socialism or Sandinismo is what's best for Nicaragua.

It is very common here to hear cat calls at groups of women walking down the street, to see sexes fall into common stereotypes of domestic duties, and for people to scoff at a woman’s professional career. I’ve even seen a drive-by pinching from a guy on a motorcycle to an unsuspecting college age girl walking too close to the curb.

Here is another recent example:

I was riding in the back of a pickup truck with a Nicaraguan male acquaintance. It’s significant to note that he was happily married with a 2 year old daughter. We were driving through a reasonably touristed city on a Friday night, and as a result several groups of well dressed white women were walking down the streets, on their way out for the night.

Being in the open bed of a pickup and in plain view of the gaggles of tourists, my Nica companion decided to give a whistle. He then explained to me that girls like being called at; using the Spanish word that roughly translates to ‘cat-call’. He continued the whistles or shouts, as a demonstration for my benefit, asking me to follow along.

While I realized that this is something that often goes on here in Nicaragua, being directly confronted with it I couldn’t oblige. I told him frankly that I don’t believe that any girls ever liked or responded to being cat-called. He assured me that while some girls have ‘bad attitudes’, most ‘normal’ girls liked it.

We ended our conversation, me still in blatant disbelief and disapproval, and we moved on to other topics.

Ten minutes later we picked up two young female hitchhikers (hitchhiking in the back of pickups is very common here), aged 25-30, and my friend then asked them what they thought of cat-calls. Of course, they both responded that it is normal and they don’t mind. My friend then looked at me and smiled.

I guess it’s a cultural thing then, maybe being brought up around it makes it seem more ok, but it undoubtedly makes foreigners feel uncomfortable (okay so not me specifically) But is something like this okay to accept as a cultural difference?

I will say that I’ll be happy to return to the way we do it in the states, and while I’m reluctant to claim ‘our way is the right way’ when it comes to ‘cultural’ differences, on many issues there is definitely a right and wrong side of the line… even though the line itself is sometimes pretty blurry.

Question of the Day:

Machismo: cultural difference or disrespect for women? Post comments!

As the girls left and walked away, my friend yelled – in Spanish, of course – “Bye precious!”

I recently stumbled upon a couple articles that related to some of the things I've talked about before.

First, here is a very interesting article from the New York Times opinion section on bananas (discussed in an earlier post) that makes the surprising claim that they will soon jump to $1/pound. It also makes some interesting insights into the economies behind locally grown and imported fruits. The reason this is important enough to post on a blog that is supposed to be about Nicaragua is that food and where it comes from is more apparent here. You often buy beans, rice, and fruit on the street not far from people who grow them. Apples are rare, because they have to be imported. Why then, are we able to buy bananas cheaper than apples? It is sometimes because fruit companies (and coffee companies and textile companies) can get away with exploiting their workers in countries (like Nicaragua) where there are less rules and regulations in order to produce goods cheaply. This article paints a very informative picture of that situation with one popular fruit.

Yes, We Will Have No Bananas


Next, here are two articles from Brave New Traveler on the topic of the homeless, and whether or not to give them money. This past week, as I was walking home from the store two little boys* asked for the 2nd half of my juice. I refused. Afterwrad I read these two articles. Be sure to read the comments section at the end of the second article, there are some interesting first hand stories.

10 Ways You Can Help Street Children Without Giving Money

The Dilemma With Street Beggars

When it comes down to it though, the reason that I usually don't give simply because it is awkward. It is easier to ignore them and pretend they don't exist than to acknowledge them and pull out your wallet. I'm not saying it's right, I'm saying that I don't have time to evaluate the situation and determine if I believe them, or if it will benefit them more by me giving or refusing, so I panic, and walk away.

Question of the Day
After reading the two articles above, what do you do when confronted by a street beggar, a child with an obvious disability or health problem, or someone who just wants a dollar? Do you believe some and not others? Do you give out of pity? What are your excuses to give or not to give? What will benefit them more?

Vince

*After a long struggle with the first boy, me repeatedly saying no but laughing and talking to the kid the whole time, obviously too friendly to allow him to give up, he finally left. I just couldn't give a stern 'no' because he was kinda cute/funny. Not 20 seconds later a second boy approached, and 'here I go again I thought...' ready for another long battle. Not 10 seconds after the boy approached, looking straight up at me, he ran face first straight into a telephone poll and fell. His friends laughed and he got up and ran away embarrassed. I hated to laugh, but I did... alot.