Excerpts from the Peanut Gallery

You can't make that stuff up!

You can’t make this stuff up

That’s the new title of my book. Yep, I am going to write a book (but don’t quote me on that, in case I get distracted… oh look a bunny).

I have been gallivanting around with some characters lately and noticed something: life in Nicaragua is prime material for a book. Ooh, on second thought, it could even be turned into a movie! I can see the merch that will follow: t-shirts! Action figures! Happy Meal toys! Key-chains! Because promotion of shameless pop-cultural consumerism is really what I am all about here.

Or not

But maybe I will still write a book, you know, just for kicks. It’s one of those things that have always been in the back of my head to do, kind of like being Prime Minister for a little bit or running a fair trade beachside café or something.

There are just so many good anecdotes here. I solemnly promise you a full explication on what a bus ride to Matagalpa really means. I also will give you a dissertation on the finer intricacies of bacanalear-ing (“partying”-ing) when the trendy café bar tells you on a Saturday night to go away and come back tomorrow because they are “out.” Out? “Yes, out of everything. Come back tomorrow and we are at your order.” Insert appropriate door-in-face description and we are set. All this to come, and more- in paperback!

The issue I have with the blog medium is that I don’t feel like I am doing justice to all the events, ideas and people that are intertwined here. Sometimes I am actually baffled how perfectly it all works out. My life reads like a book, like someone is behind it all, planning it (wait a second…). Example: Two nights ago, I had a wrenching conversation with a Nica friend named Juan. We talked about the issue of me being an extranjera and being richer than everyone else. Later that night, while I was still mulling it over, and wishing I hadn’t said some things and that I could have said others through my still immature Spanish, Steph came home and told me of her discussion with Noel, the Matagalpan friend who gave us a ride back down to Managua. Obviously our conversations took different paths, because Juan and Noel come from very different social paths in Nicaragua- even geographically. But they said almost the exact words about the same subject, though our conversations arrived there from completely different routes and left from there to different destinations.

The next day I listened to another Nica telling me the frustration of conocering (meeting) a Gringa who had little apparent respect for the Nica life, or at least wanted to insulate herself from it as much as possible while she was here. I was frustrated for him, for all of us extranjeros who are fumbling around, trying to get it right, some try more (or less) than others I suppose.

Here are three Nica men who all think alike, despite growing up in separate barrios, separate towns even. Despite having different jobs, despite having different opportunities and experiences, it’s so funny how a culture can do that, eh? Their thinking, even their way of expressing it, are at times even identical. Its funnier even so as I start to let go of some previous notions of what it means to be a foreign development worker, what it means to be an extrajera in Nicaragua, and how that manifests itself in my daily behaviour, these three conversations take place, two simultaneously even. That’s the truly baffling part of it. How does it all happen at once, like a carefully-timed symphony? Each layer- the strings, the horns, the drums, and I do love those drums- produce a different sound but yet are playing the same tune.

Hm, Am I supposed to be paying attention? She asks wryly.

I know I haven’t really touched on this here with you guys. And this is largely due to the fact that I don’t even know where to start. How do you unpack all of this? And where am I supposed to hang it out when I do start. Its not dirty laundry, but sometimes it feels that way as I, at times, I struggle, fumble and stretch- a good, catlike, post-deep-sleep stretch- to understand better, combat lethargy and habit and make good the view from Managua, Nicaragua through the Kiki lens (which often bears a striking resemblance to a Sigma 10-20mm wide angle).

posted by Kiki @ 2:30 p.m.