A Day in the Life of......

I thought I would describe my day. I wake up at about 6 a.m. I've usually spent a restless night. It's quite hot; my guess is that it's in the 90's. I have a floor fan which helps. I also have a mosquito net which regrettably blocks somewhat the air from the fan and frequently fails in keeping the pesky mosquito out. I sleep on top of the sheets. There's no blanket. There's no need for one. Sometimes I wake up in the night because my eyes sting. The sweat has dripped into them. I drink lots of water during the night.
I get up and take a wonderful cold water shower. There's no hot water valve. There's no need for one. I put on sandals and pants and a t-shirt. I walk 50 meters to the little store on the corner and buy the daily newspaper. Breakfast (at my request) is fruit juice, fruit, bread, and coffee. The Nicaraguans eat gallo pinto (rice and beans) with maybe a fried banana and fruit juice. Some days they have a pancake, which looks like a tortilla, only thinner. It has pretty much the same texture as a tortilla. It comes with corn syrup, disguised as maple syrup.
I then spend an hour or so reading the newspaper and jotting down words or phrases I don't know. I then ride my bike off to Spanish conversation class. It's a 15 minute bike ride away. When I arrive, I am dripping sweat. My fresh t-shirt is wet and stuck to me. I spend an hour apiece with two different teachers in front of a floor fan discussing the articles in the newspaper or whatever else happens to dawn on us, with them constantly correcting me. At 11 a.m., I wend my way on my bike through the cobblestone streets between the parked cars and the buses and trucks whizzing past me. Included in the mix are quite a number of one-axled horse drawn carts clippity clopping along leaving the inevitable road hazard behind them. Nicaragua has not yet discovered the bicycle helmet. Oh well.
In reviewing this, I notice my emphasis on the heat and humidity. Please understand: I'm writing this from a California perspective. For folks from Miami or the American south, they might think: it's hot and humid, so what? I can tell you so what. If you haven't been raised in heat and humidity, it can be an incredibly difficult thing to get accustomed to. I've been here for 3 weeks and I'm not accustomed yet. I suspect I could be here 3 years and I still would not be accustomed to the heat.
When I get home, it's time for another wonderful (!) cold shower and a change of t-shirts. Lunch is the main meal of the day. It seems to be almost always chicken, usually in a delicious sauce, with rice or gallo pinto, some veggies, and another glass of delightful fruit juice. Every day at every meal, there seems to be a different kind of fruit juice They're all delicious.
After lunch, I take a 30 minute siesta on top of the bed in front of the fan. Then it's off to the gringo cafe where I can get a frappuchino and get online and catch up on my e-mail. The streets are now empty, deserted. Most Nicaraguans are wisely taking a siesta in the heat of the day. Only the gringos are walking around in the hot sun with cameras clicking away, sweating buckets. In the cafe, I'm in the courtyard right next to the water fountain under the ceiling fan.
At quarter to 3, I start pedaling off to my English class in the poor part of town. The pavement ends and the road turns to dirt and sand. Sometimes I maneuver around goats, chickens, dogs, and the occasional horse. What fun! There are lots of unemployed males hanging around. The unemployment rate, I'm told, is 40%, which seems astronomically high. The average wage is about a dollar an hour.
The school classes are sometimes outside (thank goodness!) where the breeze coming in off Lake Nicaragua is wonderful. Most of the time, though, the class takes place in the classroom. The classroom is about 4 meters square but will hold more than 20 kids. They sit on wooden chairs or crates and there are tables. The ceiling is low. There's no fan. The temperature in the room is probably well over 100. After 5 minutes, I'm sweating buckets. I always bring a full water bottle and drain it in the course of the hour. There's no lighting; but there doesn't need to be. One wall is open to the outside. Regrettably the room is shared with several hundred gnats.
The kids are between 13 and 15. They are delightful. And they seem to be fairly well motivated. For them, the heat, the humidity, the gnats, everything, is simply life as usual and they're oblivious. Not only that, most of them are dry! There I am, red-faced, sweating buckets, and they're cool as cucumbers!
After this class, I ride the bike another 15 minutes to another school where I teach the school teachers English. I've had the wonderful experience, while riding my bike around Granada, of hearing a kid cry out from a block away in English "Hi Teacher!!"
At about 5:30, I head for home. I then peel the sticking t-shirt off and take another wonderful cold shower. I just noticed: ALL cold showers are wonderful! Dinner is at 7 or 8 and is usually something light with another glass of wonderful mysterious-fruit juice. For the Nicaraguans, it's almost always gallo pinto again. At about 9 o'clock, the town seems to come alive. People come out onto the stoop of their houses to catch whatever little breeze might be blowing in off the lake. Little stores open up selling all sorts of snacks and goodies. Street vendors walk around with large baskets balanced on their heads selling fried curly banana strips or some special kind of cheese or some other exotic concoction. Most people stay up chatting away until about 11 or midnight, including the little kids. That's because most of them have had a solid 2 hour siesta. By 9:30, my eyelids are drooping and my brain can no longer form subordinate clauses containing the appropriate form of the subjunctive mood.
Hasta luego!