Here starts the much-delayed short series of stories from Nicaragua.
The Arrival
We arrived in the evening, Kevin, Aubrey, and I. I was nervous about customs, because we had a total of six bins with us, filled with donations for the orphans. “Regalos para los orfantos,” I repeated to myself when it became my turn to reach the front of the line. However, besides some confusion involving the inspection of some sunflower seeds we had with us, things went smoothly. Shawna, our coordinator, eagerly awaited us outside, and we loaded the back of a truck with our bins and luggage. It was hot and humid. And so began the two hour trip from Managua to San Jorge.
Despite the long drive, things passed quickly. We soon left the city into the rural area, onto the very bumpy pothole-ridden dirt roads of Nicaragua. I listened to Shawna and our driver, Don Ramon, speak in Spanish and was drowsily relieved as I understood their conversation. Street dogs ran across the road in the dark with an algorithm-like frequency, their skeletal bodies dashing in front of us at seemingly even intervals, reminding me of a video game. Our truck hit one and everyone in the truck cried out and became upset. As we drove on, I wondered why I was the only one who didn’t seem to care. Read more
