Describing People

Last spring, when I weighed over 200 pounds, if someone asked you to describe me, what would you have said? Maybe you would have said that I was tall, that I had long black hair and/or that I had hazel eyes. As far as my weight, you might have said that I was “a little big”, or that I was “a little on the heavy side”, but there’s almost certainly one word you would never would have used: fat. In the States, fat it a word people just don’t use to describe someone else, instead we have to beat around the bush and be very indirect when talking about someone’s weight, probably because calling someone fat is seen as being derogatory (although people seem to have no problem with calling someone skinny or too skinny). We do this because we don’t want to offend someone, which is understandable, but honestly a little ridiculous.

In Nicaragua this is not the case. At all. Here, calling someone gordo is not seen as derogatory or offensive, it’s just a descriptive term that’s used to describe someone, just like alto or bajo (by the way, gordo means fat, alto means tall, and bajo means short). This was very weird to me at first, like when someone asked if my host mom in my training town was gorda, but I’ve slowly been getting used to it. There are virtually no descriptive terms here that are faux pas. Asian-American volunteers (from what I’ve been told), regardless of their ethnic background, are often called el chino or la china, not in a derogatory way, simply as a way of describing their appearance. Black American volunteers (again, from what I’ve been told) are often called el negro or la negra, again, not in a derogatory way, just as a legitimate way of describing what they look like. People here usually call me chele (which means light-skinned person) if they don’t know me, or profe if they do know me at least vaguely.

Seasons

It’s winter right now. No, I don’t mean in the southern hemisphere, I mean in Nicaragua. The definitions of seasons are very different here. In the US, summer is when the sun rises more directly overhead and it gets really warm, and winter is when the sun doesn’t rise as high in the sky and it doesn’t get as warm. But in Nicaragua the sun rises very high in the sky year-round, so it’s always approximately equally warm, regardless of the current month. Winter is defined by the rainy reason, and summer is defined by the dry season. Also, there’s no fall or spring. There are transitional periods between summer and winter, but I have yet to hear anyone say the Spanish words for fall or spring.

Directions

You have to give someone directions to get to your house. What do you do? In today’s age of smartphones and GPSs, you’d probably just give them your state name, city/town name, street name, and house number, right? It just makes logical sense to us to have a specific address that refers to a single location.

In Nicaragua, the system is very different. In Nicaragua you give your address relative to a famous location in your town. My address in my training town was how many blocks and in what direction I lived from the factory. My current address is the location of my house relative to the church in the middle of town. And no, I’m not joking. Most of the streets here don’t even have any names. Seriously, open up Google Maps and zoom in to a town in Nicaragua and you’ll probably see that almost none of the streets there have any names. To give someone directions to my house, I tell them which side of the church I live on, the color of my house, and the name of my host mom. If they can’t find the church, they would just ask someone where it is, and if they can’t find my house, they would give someone the name of my host mom and ask where she lives (or just ask where the gringo lives).

Of course people sometimes do this in the US, but here, in most places, there is no other option. There also isn’t a set point in each town from which all directions start; in my training town, my neighbor’s address was directions from the local municipal government building. Sometimes, when there are two famous businesses in a town, they will both give their addresses relative to each other.

I know that this system may seem inefficient to Americans, but here’s the thing: it works. Seriously, it totally works. People here just know where things are, they are more than happy to help you find them, and (here’s a major divergence from Americans) they never hesitate to ask for directions. Americans seem to have some sort of pride in the belief that they can find where they’re going without asking for directions, but Nicaraguans definitely do not. The Nicaraguan system may seem inefficient to Americans, but I would bet that the American system would seem unnecessary to most Nicaraguans.

Table Manners

Consider this scenario: You decide to make eggs for breakfast. What do you do? You would probably lightly grease the pan with oil to make cleanup easier, cook the eggs in whatever fashion you prefer, and then eat them with just a fork. Not if you’re Nicaraguan. If you’re Nicaraguan, you would probably pour so much oil into the pan that you practically deep fry the eggs, then you would drown them in salt, and eat them with a spoon.

Here’s another scenario: You sit down for a lunch consisting of beans, rice, cheese, tortillas, and some veggies. How do you eat it? Maybe you use a fork or a spoon to make a burrito, then eat it with your hands. Maybe you mix everything together (minus the tortilla) and eat it with a fork. Not if you’re Nicaraguan. If you’re Nicaraguan, you may very well tear the tortilla up into strips, and use them to pick up your food to eat it (seriously, I have yet to see anyone else here make a burrito).

One more scenario: You sit down for a dinner consisting of mostly steak. How do you eat it? You would probably cut it up into manageable pieces with a fork and a sharp steak knife, then eat those pieces with the fork, right? Not if you’re Nicaraguan. If you’re Nicaraguan, you would probably just pick up the steak with your hands and rip off pieces with your teeth.

The above statements are based on my own experiences here, eating with
three Nicaraguan families. Also there was some obvious exaggeration.

I’m not trying to imply that all Nicaraguans cook and eat the same way; that would be as ridiculous as saying that there’s no variety in the ways that Americans eat. I’m also not trying to imply that Nicaraguans are backwards people who need to learn how to eat properly. My point is that the idea that there is a proper way to eat, that there’s some way that you’re supposed to act at the table, is complete bullshit. Proper table manners don’t really exist, they’re just a social construct most likely designed by people who want to make themselves feel superior to others. The difference between “food” and “finger food” is basically nonexistent here (pretty much just soup). That doesn’t mean that people always eat with their hands, just that they can if they want to.

The definition of “politeness” varies hugely between cultures. In this sense, table manners are a lot like language, in that nothing is ever truly “right”. There is no right way to talk, there are only various culturally accepted ways to talk; there is also no right way to eat, there are only various culturally accepted ways to eat. If you’re telling someone how they should eat in a certain social situation, remember that you’re not giving them a set of objective facts, you are giving them your opinion. And if somebody is being a stickler for “proper manners”, just quote The Dude: “Yeah, well, that’s just, like, your opinion, man.”

Happiness

Every year, Gallup does a survey to figure out how happy the people of each country are. This past May they released the results of last year’s survey, when they went to 138 countries and asked 1000 adults a few questions in each one. Based on the answers, they determined the percent of adults in each country that were happy. Last year’s results found that Syria, at only 38%, was the least happy country, which really isn’t surprising considering that they have an ongoing civil war. Every country except for Syria had a happiness rate amongst adults of over 50%, and the overall worldwide happiness rate was 71%. I know that the news these days makes everything look like doom and gloom, but overall, people actually seem to be pretty happy.

The list did seem to correlate fairly well with the UN’s list of per capita GDP by country, with one notable exception: Latin America, which dominated the top of the list. Latin American countries accounted for ten of the top eleven spots; the only non-Latin American country to break the top ten was Denmark. The happiest country was Paraguay, with 87% of adults being happy. Nicaragua came in at the number 4 spot, with 83% of adults being happy. The United States came in at number 24, with 78% of adults being happy. The difference between happiness rates of 78%, 83%, and 87% may not seem like much, but it also means unhappiness rates of 22% in the United States, 17% in Nicaragua, and 13% in Paraguay; so Americans are 29% more likely to be unhappy than Nicaraguans, and 69% more likely to be unhappy than Paraguayans.

This of course begs a couple questions: why are Latin Americans so happy? What makes them happier than people in far wealthier countries like the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and most European countries? What makes Latin Americans different? I’m not sure what the answer is, but I think it’s probably a cultural difference. They’re happy because they do things that make them happy. The United States has a per capita GDP that is nearly thirty times as high as that of Nicaragua, and yet they are happier than us. It seems like they just have a culture of happiness.

As Americans, we like to pretend we know what it’s like to live in countries like Nicaragua. We feel bad for people who live in “third-world countries” (a term which I despise). I’ve even heard people refer to countries like Nicaragua as “third-world shitholes”. We seem to constantly look down upon these countries and feel bad for the people who live there…and yet many of them are happier than us.

The ultimate question in life, the question that everyone should always strive to answer for themselves, I believe, is this: how can I be happier? Sure, more money would probably help, but I don’t think that’s the best answer. I think the problem is that Americans chase happiness; we desire it so much that it consumes us, without us even realizing it. We chase things that we think will make us happier, but it never works. To quote David Foster Wallace: “If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never…feel you have enough… Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly… Worship power [and] you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, [and] you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.”

I think the better answer is to do things that already make us happy, instead of things that we’re certain will make us happier in the future. I think Henry David Thorough put it best: “Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.”

Nicaragua: Land of Lakes and Volcanoes

Let me start by saying that you should lower your expectations for this blog. I don’t currently have constant internet access, I don’t plan on posting here on any regular schedule, and, as I have clearly stated in the URL, I hate writing. It may be days, weeks, or maybe even over a month between posts. I really have no idea. The purpose of this blog is to accomplish the third goal of the Peace Corps: "To help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans". This first post is a general background post, so I’ve labelled the sections for the sake of simplicity.

Where I am:
I can’t tell you. Well, I can tell you that I’m currently in a training town in Carazo, but I’m not supposed to say publicly which town I’m in. If you want more specifics, send me an email or a Facebook message.

What I'm doing:
I'm currently in training, which lasts almost three months. My job will primarily consist of co-teaching science classes in an elementary school with a Nicaraguan elementary school teacher, which basically means teaching a version of environmental science that elementary schoolers can understand. I have to co-teach six lessons during training as practice. My first lesson was on the importance of the environment, a very vague and broad topic that I basically taught by asking the class why it’s important.

Living conditions:
I'm living with a host family here. It's a pretty drastic change from living in the US. It's always hot (80s-90s during the day and 60s-70s at night, though I don’t have a thermometer so that’s really just a guess), somebody is always playing music waaaaay too loud in my house or somewhere nearby, usually starting at about 7 AM, and my family’s rooster usually starts going off at about 5 AM. Also the water isn't always running. It usually starts working in the evening and stops working in the early morning or mid-day, but sometimes it seems to just randomly turn on and off. Because of this, my host family has multiple large barrels that they fill up with water whenever they can. When the water isn't running in the morning, I have to take a bucket shower. Yes, that's basically what it sounds like: There's a large trash can full of water in the shower, and you use a bowl to scoop water out and pour it over your head. When the water is running in the morning, I take a cold shower. I’ve started exercising most mornings so that taking a cold shower now feels refreshing. I’ve also started rinsing off in the evening after particularly hot days just to cool myself down.

Bucket shower

 

Food:
The food is pretty good here. Except for the meat; I hate meat, I've tried to like it, I really have, but it's just disgusting (anywhere in the world). The primary meal is called gallo pinto, and it's a mixture of rice, beans, and a couple spices. Gallo is Spanish for rooster, but there's no rooster in gallo pinto, so I'm not sure why it's called that. I think it might have to do with the fact that the mixture of rice and red beans kind of looks like a rooster, but I'm not sure.