Friday, July 22

Mariposa puppies at the farm!
Today we took the first class session and went to visit the farm and the daycare center. The earth here seems so lush! Raised rows support so many different vegetables, but the hard rains have washed away a couple of crops of seedlings. Just yesterday, they started constructing these plastic shelters from the rain. The papayas are ripe, as are these “sour oranges,” which I think is the source of the salty lemonade they serve every now and then. None of us really like it, but Chrissy said it was great for sorting out stomach trouble. There’s a theme here: the oregano that’s also good for stomach issues also grows very happily there.

The daycare was quiet today, because again the day began with rain, and also because the schools have been on break, so it’s hard getting started again. Only three little girls, all three years old. The very dedicated workers were planning to go out into the neighborhood (again) to get parents to send their children. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, they also go into homes to work with children. Otherwise, the director explained, they’re not writing, they don’t learn how to use a pencil, they’re not waking up their minds. The little girls were shy but sweet. Zoe thinks she might want to go back to volunteer next week.

Another torrential downpour this afternoon: so loud that it woke Jeremy. The newspaper this morning said the rain was likely to continue heavier through the rest of the season, at least until October. One more sign of global warming?

I found a book in the library, full of typical Nicaraguense sayings. I feel like I’m reading Blake’s “proverbs of hell”! My favorites so far:

No se va al cielo a caballo (You don’t go to heaven on horseback.)

Para el mal de amores, no hay doctores (For heartsickness, there are no doctors)

Perro que ladra no muerde…mientras ladra (A barking dog doesn’t bite—as long as it’s barking)

Regresando nunca se llega (Turning back, you never arrive)

Solo la cuchara sabe el mal de la olla (Only the spoon knows the pot’s misdeeds)

Nunca falta un pelo en la sopa (There’s always a hair in the soap)

Para librarse de lazos, antes cabeza de brazos. (To free yourself from lasso, head before arms)

Poco a poco sube la vieja al coco (Little by little, the old woman climbs to the coconut)

Lo que no mata, engorda (whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you fat)

A sad one: pan par ahoy, hambre para mañana (bread for today, hunger for tomorrow)

One for Blake: Prudencia murió de vieja (prudence died of old age)

A curse: entre abogados te vea (may you come between lawyers)

But of course there are tons of horrible proverbs about women and Indians.