Lo que sea

What will be will be

Some locations for me are best described through music. The rhythm and beat of the music describes the energy and pace of a locale that transcends the spoken word. I hear steel drums in my head when I think of a Caribbean island, mariachi music for Mexico, and flamenco for Spain. Nicaragua had a strong voice that I heard clearly within a few days of my arrival. The sound has the laid back rhythm of a Caribbean island minus the steel drums with an added dash of the upbeat mariachi band of Mexico.

Sunset over the Pacific Ocean as seen from a beach side bar in San Juan del Sur.

El Mercado

El Mercado

The pace of Nicaragua is much more laid back than the US. Someone will not necessarily meet you at a pre-agreed upon time and the hardware store doesn’t always open at 1pm. The phrase “island time” came to our minds when trying to describe the attitude towards time, however this is a poor description for a country that is most certainly not an island. Jose, one of our Nicaraguan biologists, speaks excellent English and tends to function as our interpreter. When he was asked how we could translate “island time” to fit the Nicaraguan attitude he gave us the phrase “lo que sea” (pronounced lo-co-say-a). The literal translation is “that which may be” and is used in place of “whatever” or “whatever happens will happen”.

Nicaraguans are crack aces at taking the good with the bad. Hardship is a constant presence that is challenged by a people who are quick to smile and have an iron clad sense of community that we, as Americans, have lost. Your fellow town people are more than your neighbors; they are your family and share your laughter and your sorrows. Christian, one of our local guides, lost his cousin three days ago. The passing was not unexpected and occurred over a few days. As word spread of his decline people began arriving en masse via truck, taxi, motorcycle, bicycle, and foot. A vigil was maintained around the clock with singing, hand clapping, and prayers. We would return from the field, passing the house at 2am, to see hundreds of people crowding the yard of the house, spilling over onto the street. While the vigil was incredibly sad to witness it also served as a beautiful celebration of his life that moved us to tears.

The sense of community is further cemented by sports with the reigning favorite being soccer with baseball a close second. All of the villages have at least one flat, grassy area that serves as the playing field. Here in Escamaquita, soccer and baseball games are played on the weekends (assuming the chickens can be herded off the field long enough to hold a game) and the entire community gathers to watch. We have tried to catch a game but have not been able to do so because of our field schedule and the recent funeral mentioned above.

The local grassy area where chickens gather and the locals play soccer and football.

I wish that Americans could reconnect in this fashion. We have become so disconnected from each other even though we are increasingly connected via cell phones, e-mail, and social networking sites on the internet. I think we could all use a community soccer field with grazing chickens. . .or a front porch with a rocking chair.

Front porch of the villa. A lot of my blog posts are from this rocking chair.