Managua

I'm in Managua. Presently, I'm in the air-conditioned offices of IBW, the largest Internet service provider in the country. I'm staying at the home of John Wyss, its president. His home is nice, not over-the-top. He drives an SUV, and the air conditioning is always on full-blast. He is the busiest person I've ever met.

Managua is hot, sprawling, and chaotic. Decidedly not pretty. By taxi-ing around the city, I'm beginning to learn its layout. Being in a place like this feels empowering: you can get things done. People want to help you. Many of them know what they're doing. I should have come much sooner, for many reasons.

We had dinner last night, John and some telecom business men and I, at an Italian restaurant. I felt out of place, but I appreciated the opportunity to see how projects work from their level. I hope that this will be empowering in the future, so I can understand how my work fits into the "bigger picture" of development and business.

Ack, gotta go. Sorry there wasn't more art to this post. Or maybe that's just an expression of my mood.

Oh, and I voted!

Disco Magdalena

(written last weekend, I think)
There is a congregation here tonight. A Belgian-Nicaraguan guy, a gal from Quebec, and a man from Demascus have started a discotheque on the porch of this 115-year-old farm house. We are drinking beers where 25 years ago, farmers worked for the Somoza regime. We chat in four different tongues about modern things: music, travels, our friends at homes so alien to this context.

Among these people, who am I? I do not count myself among these backpackers, seekers of adventure and encounters with the other--though I certainly enjoy their company. And though the local people increasingly know who I am, and I spend more and more of my time with them over travelers, I really have more in common with the travelers. It's a strange in-between place I'm in. There are certainly other people like me living around here, and even passing through, but we hardly form a cohesive group.

So I go back and forth between all groups. And this is good.

Still, I'm wishing for some Richard Hugo and fresh rivers full of salmon. Alpine lakes and flower meadows still adorn some inner landscape. I remember bean bags and Coltrane, roof-tops, fresh muffins, the Arboretum, four-square, the Bathtub. It would take a lot to dislodge these things from their places in my identity.

Ortega Comes To Town

First, it appears that my server is back in functioning order. Many thanks to the Clark brothers for their work. On a side note, if anyone knows of a fault-tolerant, mirroring network filesystem for ~3 nodes on different networks--basically, Coda, but hopefully more lightweight--let me know. We have Plans.

So, today was kinda going to be a big day. I called a meeting for 3 o'clock with some people Manuél knows who are interested in computers and all. Basically, they've all learned something about computers, but don't have any equipment to practice on, nor employment in the field. I wanted to talk to them about the possibility of starting a telecenter (think coöperative internet café) at some point in the future, and what it would look like.

At two o'clock, however, a chopper landed in the field by the health clinic (this is Altagracia, now) and out came the Secretary of the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN), Daniel Ortega. The main street swelled with people running to the spectacle. You understand running just doesn't happen that often here. A parade of trucks and buses had come into town a few hours earlier, including a bunch of folks on a plantain truck from the Coop. Carlos Diaz Cajina (CDC, the coop that runs Finca Magdalena, where I live). It's campaign time for the elections in all municipalities of Nicaragua, and Bernabé Lopez is running for an advisory position in the municipality of Altagracia.

It was sometimes hard to see for all the FSLN flags everywhere. I cursed myself for leaving my camera in Balgüe. It was hot as hell in the sun, but we stood there listening to various functionaries and candidates, and this MC who really only knew how to shout slogans, and he wasn't very good at getting us into it.

Finally, Daniel got up and spoke. He talked about vaguely socialistic things and tried to get the people from poorer, more under-served communities excited. Altagracia often votes for the FSLN, probably because it's a poorer area. He talked about the importance of the constitution, created under his rule, and the importance of the rights it endows upon citizens. He didn't really talk about what they are, but they were certainly part of "Democracy", and Democracy was understood in terms of.. umm.. socialistic ideas. At least, that's what I got out of it. That and a hat.

I got to the meeting an hour late, which I thought was perfectly fine considering the circumstances, although I'm not sure the sentiment was shared. One guy had already left, which left only Manuél and two friends of his, one woman he'd worked with and another he taught for a while. I'm not sure how useful the meeting was, but we decided to come every week and I'll teach a little something about networking. We'll see how it goes.

Well, that was a day. No water until evening in Tagüizapa today.

Life on the Island

(hmm.. it looks like the last post didn't actually get posted because my connection broke before it could go up... so you get two posts)

(Moreover, the server I spent so much time moving everything to just before I left got compromised yesterday. I don't know when it will be back up. In the meantime, my email, photo album, and mailing lists are down. Good thing I hosted this blog elsewhere. )

(Some pictures here! Sorry, they'll be presented a little more prettily when the server's back up)

Friends,

I'm in the house of the Álvarez family, in Tagüizapa. Marí, 5 years old, is trying to ask me something, but I don't know what it is. She's been standing next to the desk for a good long time, staring at me and asking questions very quietly. It's her room and bed I've taken over for the next three nights. She seems to really like me being here, though.

We're really close to getting an antenna mast up at Finca Magdalena, the first feat of the project. I think. So it was with a little regret that I left, but I'd already made the arrangements to stay here. I don't entirely understand the cultural norms involved, but it's important that I stay a little while with the family. It's a nice place they have, well built, nice furniture and all, and the family really is sweet, but this is not a useful place to be working out of at this point.

I've just taken to learning the names of various bugs. They come from Nahualt (NA-wal, sp?), the native language here, and seem to be recombinations of the same sounds. It's even harder because everyone seems to call them something else. I've heard three names for firefly (of which there are many these days). I'll try to put up a picture of a gigantic cuchón that showed up at the Finca a few days ago.

Thus far in my life, the practical things I've needed I've only had to turn to whatever institution I was in. The process was usually easy to figure out. Coming here, I can feel myself learning the basic skills that most people learn in the "Real World", working, leading, or navigating through more difficult living conditions. How to get things done when there isn't someone there who is paid to help you get things done. This confirms for me that this is the right place for me now.

Poco a poco is my refrain. Bit by bit, I'm learning, growing, progressing, learning to navigate the terrain. Seattle seems far away. The meanings and references of life there are so foreign to me as I talk to people on ancient buses, the sky all kinds of sweetness as we bump down the road at sunset. This is the character of my days.

I have an address now, should you feel moved to send me writings. You can even send small parcels, if you don't risking their disappearance. It takes letters 1-3 weeks to arrive (we'll see), and about the same for us to get to Rivas to check the mail. Here's the address:

Peter Abrahamsen

c/o Asosación Islas Hermanas

Apartado Postal #36

Correos de Nicaragua

Rivas, NICARAGUA

Hope all's well in Seattle. Wish me cool weather,

Rain, rain

A quick post today. I've met Ramiro Rivera, the guy who knows where to get solar panels, groks power, and seems enthusiastic about the project. Besides being a nice guy, he'll be invaluable for the project.

Last night I met an English lady who was working with the UCA Miraflor coop system our of Estelí. We're talking about making a network of volunteer organizations and NGOs in Nicaragua to share experiences, resources, etc. I don't know if this will happen or not, but it's a good idea. There are similar networks in other CA countries.

Interminable rain yesterday. Pretty fun, actually.

OK, really, this is just a short note to say things are well. Now I've got to make a phone call, pick up some pipes and pay a bunch of money, and catch the 3:30 bus back to Balgüe.

Keep an eye on that volcano for me.