Wednesday, November 18, 2009

After being in Nicaragua for 4 summers and the past several months, I've been trying to put my finger on what exactly draws me here, and what keeps me here. I could go the easy route and claim that its the people who have the hold on my heart, but I know it's something much deeper than that. My dear friend Iris was describing it recently, and I think she found the perfect answer to my quandry. "We feel more here," she explained. In every sense of the phrase, Iris is correct. At home, when it gets a little too warm, you adjust the temperature of the room, you roll down your window, you jump in the pool. At home, when your shower isn't hot enough, you turn the dial. Things change for you, you don't change for them. In Nicaragua, however, it's the opposite. You are forced to feel the heat of the sun, and to learn to enjoy how it kisses your face. You make yourself love cold showers, you get used to the shivers that take over your entire body when you turn on the water. At home, you sit two seats away from people in the movie theater. Here, there's three people, not to mention someone's pet chicken,perched on your lap on the bus ride home. At home, everyone stays in their respective lanes on the road and a drive anywhere is usually uneventful. Here, your heart takes permanent residence in your throat whenever getting into a vehicle, because each ride is filled with the exhilaration of high speeds as you veer into other lanes to narrowly avoid knocking over horses, cows, peleways, and people that often crowd the road. At home, you compliment a cute baby, and they politely thank you and walk away. Here, you compliment a cute baby, and the next thing you know, the kid is in your arms and the mother is patting your shoulder. Even God's very nectar, Coca Cola, is sweeter down here due to the sugar cane. Iris is right... you just feel more.

Now, ordinarily, I would say that this is a good thing, feeling more. However, recently, I experienced a feeling of MORE that isn't comfortable, and I don't know how to acclimate myself to like it.

What is it, you ask, that I am feeling MORE of down in Nicaragua?

Fear.

I don't mean this in any sort of poetic or profound sense, by any means. I haven't discovered something new about my self or my heart that is causing me to fear.

Oh, no. This "something" I discovered comes with several beady eyes, hair, eight legs, and very sharp teeth prepared to chomp me into tiny bits at will. That's right, folks. There's been a security breach here in the Casa Blanca, and something told the tarantulas they were welcome to join in the party with the mice. Let me be the first to say that this is not ok. Just as the mice had to be evicted, we are going to have to take drastic measures with these 8 legged monstros that are parading around my house. I can deal with beetles. I can deal with moths. I can even deal with the occasional roach. However, last Monday I awoke with a tarantula situated comfortable on my neck, probably planning how many ways he was going to eat me.

Needless to say, I've had a little bit of trouble sleeping comfortably these days.

1 comment:

  1. Perched comfortably on your neck, you say? The new Twiight movie is premiering this week--I'd say your tarantula friend is just in time. I guess he forgeot to tell that the official Nicaraguan premier of New Moon was happening last night. Screw those tarantulas and their "Team Edward" t-shirts...

    -Jayne

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