What I Learned in Nicaragua

Since coming to college, I feel like I have been much more inclined to take risks. Granted, these are calculated risks but still risks. One chance I took, in particular, has become one of the best decisions of my life. Last semester, after seeing some picture display boards in Squires, I decided to apply for a spring break service trip to Nicaragua. I was not necessarily expecting to get accepted, and I knew I would survive if I was not, but I figured it was worth a shot. Surprisingly, I ended up earning a spot on the trip. I was excited, but I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I read over the logistics of the trip multiple times but still found myself wondering how my spring break would go and what stories I would be able to tell upon my return.
 
Now I know why I could not find the information I was looking for. The experiences I had during my week in Nicaragua could not be expressed in an email or on a website. Even pictures do not do it justice. I spent most of my time in the capital city of Managua which is a very different place. Literally every Nicaraguan I encountered was pleasant. However, the majority of them were extremely poor and had little to nothing. I was around kids who lived in homes made of scrap metal. Some of them had concrete walls or foundations, but the majority of the homes looked like a tetanus shot waiting to happen. The floors were just dirt. The plumbing was obviously questionable. Neighbors lived ten feet apart from each other. Many of the homes were the dwelling places for five or even ten people, yet the homes only had two to three rooms. Clearly the ability to share is an important virtue for the Nicaraguans.

Oftentimes, in larger families the oldest children take on honorary parental roles because their parents work all day, every day; other families simply have so many kids that they just need the extra help. Subsequently, this knocks school off of the priority list. I spent a significant amount of my time with three nine-year-old girls. When I first met them, I asked them in my broken Spanish, “Qué grado?” trying to ask them what grade they were in. Two of them responded with “Primero” and the third “Cuarto.” The third girl, who eventually became one of my closest friends, probably had a slightly better family situation than the other two. Even with the language and cultural barriers, I could tell she was more mature. She acted a lot less like a child. For example, at one point her little brother darted into the street; I tensed up and began to go after him until I noticed her observing him calmly as if she had control over the situation. I sat back down and he was fine; she knew he would be too.
 

Judy was one of the lucky ones. Granted, she lived in the slums of Managua and received her one meal per day at a feeding center, but she had not fallen through the cracks. If any of the kids I met are able to break the cycle of poverty, it will be her. I wrote her a letter just the other day. I do not want to forget her and I do not want her to forget me. The crazy thing is that she instantly attached to me after a choppy bilingual introduction. The vast majority of the time we spent together was in silence. It was as if we understood each other. She was fine just hanging out, as was I. Through this, she has taught me a lot. When my day or life is not going as planned, I immediately stress and shut down. My main concerns include exam grades and resume building, and they tend to make me a nervous wreck. She worries about the safety of herself and her siblings and whether or not she will get to eat on a particular day, yet she is calm, happy and selfless. Talk about a wake up call for me.
I am glad I took advantage of the opportunity to serve Nicaragua. I gave up my spring break, hung out with kids, taught a little English, and completed work projects. What is so incredible, however, is what Nicaragua gave to me. Regardless of how cliché it sounds, I truly have a refreshed outlook on life. Being thankful for what I have is an understatement. Experiencing Nicaragua was like taking a major chill pill. It has brought me back down to Earth. Before the trip, I carried myself with a rather negative disposition. I felt victimized by the world because things did not always go exactly my way. How silly! I am so blessed that I could write pages about all the wonderful people and things I have in my life.
 
Going to Nicaragua on a service trip was a selfless action. I suppose that should naturally make me feel good about myself and, in fact, it has. But that is just the surface of the effect this trip has had on me. Not only did I get to pursue my interests in exploring other countries and cultures, but I also learned from the people I had the opportunity to interact with. The “life lessons” I walked away with are just that, LIFE lessons. I could not have possibly discovered what I learned and saw in a textbook. Because of this, I cannot wait to go back. I want to give more and I want to get more. My week in Nicaragua has proven to have a lasting impact on me, and I hope I impacted the kids by loving them as well. The journey does not stop here however. Fundraising is a year-long endeavor. I encourage you to check out my fundraising page (razoo.com/story/anjelica4nica) and spare a few dollars. Believe me, it goes a LONG way. Even if you cannot give, at least go check out what I have wrote. This is just me trying to pass along what I have gained. If I did not, that would just be selfish.