Lance, Chelcy's boyfriend, came down to Nicaragua for the weekend and this is his experience...
In the pouring rain the plane arrived in Managua and it soon became evident how far out of America I was. As the plane touched down safely, everyone on the plane applauded for the successful flight. The evening flight had shown the passengers a heavenly sunset from above the clouds and they began to pray. They were thanking God for their safe journey. This was a place of very thankful people. They did not pray out of necessity, they prayed because they knew they had been permitted a safe journey back to their homes and families. I looked at them and they looked at me. This trip would help me understand who they were looking at.
I made my way off the plane, and through Customs, past the drivers with security clearance, and on to baggage claim. There stood a man holding one of my several bags. "perdon senior" "yes" he replied. I knew I had dodged another opportunity to wish I had studied more Spanish. "You have my bag" "my mistake sir" he responded from below the Yankees hat. So I collected the four checked items and proceeded outside to be met by Chelcy, Molly, and the driver, Eduardo. The night’s air was a hot fog from the recent rain. Someone grabbed my luggage cart and took it to Eduardo’s small truck. The man jumped into the back of the truck and another bag boy handed the bags to him. The man hopped down from the truck and I tipped him $5 American dollars. He walked off. The other man stood in front of me with his hand out. They were not a team. They had no intentions of sharing the tip. I was an American and they were to get every dollar they could. Two dollars and a stern "si, go!" later, the second man left. I was loving Nicaragua already.
We all crammed in the small truck. I remember Chelcy rubbing my shoulders for a moment. I had managed almost 200lbs of supplies and her touch reminded me why I had come so far. It was for people I had never met, it was for everyone who donated to this cause, it was for the doctors who needed gloves, for the patience who needed care, and for me - to see why Chelcy and I have been apart.
The hour commute to Granada was very interesting. The stop signs said "alto" (which I thought to be tall). The horn was used hundreds of times to move pedestrians, automobiles, bicyclists, and animals. Using the horn here doesn't replace expletives like in America; it simply says "here I am." Horses were nearly as common as the as the dozens of motorcyclist we passed. We cut through a small town about half way there and I thought to myself "please don't let this be the place". It was not our destination. It was raining again when we stopped on a street corner in the middle of a town. "Aqui", Eduardo said. I looked out my window. The American car horn in my head honked at the site. Down every street there was a wall, a sidewalk, and a few windows scattered between the entrances to the buildings. This place seemed no different. I could hear the noise coming from inside. “here we go” I thought.
The place was actually Dutch. The bar was packed and as they celebrated the queens birth in the Netherlands. The Orange Party it was called. Room 11 was small about, 12 by 12 with a shower, toilet and sink. I looked up at the fan, dropped my bags, "where's the A/C?" With the flip of a switch, Chelcy brought cool, air back into my life.
After showers, we sorted the supplies and settled in. As I held Chelcy, I thought, "aqui".
The next morning was a day that has changed my life. The driver didn't come to pick us up so I said "let's just carry the stuff." The fifteen minute-8 block walk was only up hill during the second half. I wore a back pack filled with baseball gloves. Each strap of the backpack had a bag hanging from it that was filled with medicines. The rolling suitcase had another bag on top of it and I carried the bat for the baseball donation. Chelcy was carrying quite a load too so we were both anxious to deliver the goods. We loaded it in Eduardo’s truck with the construction supplies Chelcy, Molly, and doctor Moises had purchased the dia before and away we went. Twenty minutes later we turned right. The road was dirt. The road was long. I would return a rich man.
The previous night’s rain had damaged the road. In some places the mud was deep and it reminded me of driving through soft sand at the beach. We got to the clinic and I was impressed by the building. I entered to find the building had nearly no supplies. The delivery room was empty, no equipo. Moises' desk was a curtain away from the exam table which was also the surgery room. We opened the suitcase and he was taken back by the supplies that Chelcy and Molly had provided him with. He finally had what he needed. He could were scrubs now. He could help the people of Santa Ana. It was... an extreme makeover, doctor edition. The home edition was still to come.
On our journey to la casa with the construction material, we passed a farm with a tractor. It was a private peanut farm and the plants were just sprouting. Last week the ground was dust, but today the dark, moist soil was sprinkled with fresh growth. And I was about to be too. Vercidad! I said trying to tell Eduardo to go faster through the mud. It was too late. The engine revved but the back left tire just spun. Moises and I got behind the truck to push it through the muck. Our success was followed quickly by laughter as everyone looked at me. I was now a Dalmatian with mud from the tire thrown all over my white shirt, shorts, leg, neck, shoes, and forehead. The next obstacle was much worse. A 4x4 truck had tried to cross part of the road which had been washed away from the rain. It was now literally between a rock and a hard place.
After realizing we could not move the truck, the tractor soon came to the rescue. After the other truck had been pulled back, it crossed the gap in the road and proceeded on. Now it was our turn. Stuck! He backed up for another try. Moises and I got in position to push the truck. I was just behind the cab. We pushed hard. Our efforts made just enough difference to get the truck through the mud, but they came at a price. As the truck tires gripped, I fell. I was partially under the truck and don't know how I was not crushed. Bloody, muddy, and thankful, I got in the back of the truck to keep going. Normally Chelcy and Molly walk from that point to the houses near where we were going. It was probably 2 miles before… Alto! Aqui!
When I was a kid we would take my friends to what they thought was my house. We'd stop at the ugliest house in the county and tell them we are here. The chickens ran around and the pigs were in pens. That house was a mansion compared to this one, the animals were similar, but this pig was out of the pen.
The house was 15 x 12 (the same size of el hotel room if you include the bathroom) they family had been using some cardboard for a wall where the wind would hit the house for a year. It actually wasn't that bad because the sun would dry it completely when it got wet. We came with sheets of aluminum to replace the cardboard. We pulled away the card board to reveal a house for seven people. The chickens ran from under the plywood mattress, a litter of puppies was awoken by the light coming into the house. One of the girls in the house lay on a plywood mattress just inside the wall. She was coloring in a book with the ink cartridge of a black pen. There was a Bible next to the bed. The floor was dirt and the roof was rusted.
Moises asked if I was "a construction man or a business man" I thought of my French door that didn't close for two months after I installed it and picked up a hammer. We didn't replace a wall. We replaced half of the house. The owner was cutting trees with his machete to use for studs. He was amazingly precise. We started with the main wall. We nailed holes in the metal to perforate it so we could bend it and then hammer it in half. We tore out the rotting, bug infested bamboo that was the wall next to the parent’s bed and replaced it with aluminum. We offset the sheets of aluminum so the wind would blow up into the house but the rain would stay out. We did the same on the other side of the house. It took about 6 hours. We didn't build a home. A home was already made by the smiles of the daughters that watched us work and washed the dishes in the contaminated well water, the father was who had spent his life working with the machete, the mother who had sent the boys to the store to get ice and Pepsi for us as a thank you. Ice. Ice, several miles down a dirt road that was nearly impassable by car. Ice, for strangers that the doctor brought to fix our home. Ice, a luxury that this family dreamt not of. Ice, that had been returned so quickly it had not melted. Ice, as a thank you for the Doctor, the “gringas” and me.
When the construction was completed, Chelcy and Molly talked to Dr. Moises and they decided that they should hand out some of the clothes to the family. The shoes came out as quickly as the smiles on the children’s faces. Each child was placed on the tailgate and the doctor measured their feet for shoes (this made the doctor was approachable for the children). Then came the shirts, then came more children and the giving continued until every child had shoes, even the babies, each child had clothes that would fit them. I gave a baseball hat to the father and then two of his sons. I had brought the baseball gloves thinking I could get enough boys to make a team. I started with the brothers and gave them each a glove and then a ball. His cousins came by so they got one too. Then two more boys came and then two more. They were all so polite. Soon I walked over to the boys and gave them a bat. And said "lets play!" they made bases out of tree leaves. There was a dirt spot for home plate. They all played together. For 15 minutes I was coaching again. Outs were hard to come by because if you hit the ball in the tree it was hard to catch. A few minutes later we said “adios” to smiles and farewells more genuine than I had ever seen someone give a stranger.
Eduardo was the only person in the cab on the trip back. The sun was now behind very dark clouds that covered the closest volcano. Molly, Chelcy, Moises, and myself were in the bed of the truck talking about the job when it started to rain. The rain was washing Nicaragua away from my legs. A strange feeling came over me, as I watched the rain reveal my light skin. I was hoping it wouldn’t all go away. The rain was revealing our scrapes and cuts.
By the time we reached the farm, we were wet. By the time we reached the clinic, we were soaked, we watch the trickle on the side of the road become a stream, then a river, until behind the truck there was no road. But the time we reached the paved road, we were laughing hysterically. We had become the people the people riding the motorcycles in the rain that we saw the night before. We felt alive. We were riding in the bed of a truck absolutely soaked with cool rain water, we were going to eat rice and beans for dinner, we were going to sleep in an air conditioned room, we had water from a faucet, we were wearing shoes, we were tired from helping others. We had given up everything that typical Americans take for granted.
I realized. We were kings....