Tour de Leon

Leonardo, the brother of the director of the school where I study Spanish, is a professional cyclist. Last week he took second place in a criterium here in Leon despite falling on the last lap during an ill-timed downpour. Below he is celebrating with his son.

Amazingly I haven´t grown a mustache yet.

Virgin Celebration

First I should say that I have overcome technical difficulties and hope to post with greater regularity now.

Two weeks ago I went to the city of Chinandega for their virgin celebration. Every city has its own particular virgin to celebrate down here. We were all trying to get photos of the girl you see on the right, but she kept darting behind the tall men behind her. I hid my camera and got lucky.

Winter

The rainy season is for real. Every afternoon for the past five days the sky has collapsed on us. Above, you can see that the statue of Sandino is barely staying dry. I love the drama. Everyone scurries for shelter (except Mick, who takes advantage of the impromptu running water and bathes). Most of the roofs are tin. You have to shout to be heard. Recently I have worn several layers at night, which gets me thinking that perhaps it's time to buy real bedding.

A few words of explanation about the theater group: every evening from about 6pm to 8pm, Mick runs a rehearsal / improv class in the southern outskirts of the city for about fifteen teenagers and young adults. Most of them go neither to work nor to school. The class meets behind the gates of an orphanage. Several of the orphans take part as well. Saturday night we went out for a celebration dinner, for Mick and his wife just purchased a plot of land out in the Barrio on which they will build a community theater. It will provide employment (a bakery and a bar will be on the premises) as well as be the kind of shared public space for youth that is mostly absent in Nicaragua.

My role in the group is, at present, undefined. As my Spanish improves I hope to do some workshops on storytelling. What I do now is take part in the exercises and get to know the kids. They are fabulously patient with my fucked-up vocabulary.

In other important news I finally found the bar I've been looking for. A few blocks from my house in the opposite direction of the hostels. The few foreigners I met last night were chain-smoking Italians working on long-term humanitarian projects. An artsy Cuban film was projected on the wall.

And my novel is swimming along. The third draft will be done by Christmas (for those of you wondering, "where are the first and second drafts?", you are correct in guessing that they have been junked).

Applications to visit me can be submitted to:

heald.michael@gmail.com

La Sopa y Las Sandanistas

Melissa, Mick's sister. We spent all of last Saturday at their home on the outskirts of the city. Melissa is a very dramatic child and I was lucky to catch her in a rare moment of reflection.











The man wearing my cowboy hat is Mick's neighbor Hilario. We were drinking rum and Hilario kept passing his glass to Mick, saying "el ultimo, el ultimo," as if we didn't know that within twenty minutes he would once again be asking for "el ultimo." Once he drank enough he told stories about the revolution. He took a shine to my hat and I promised that when I leave next June I will give it to him. I explained that I'm so white that if I were to give it to him now, I would never survive the Nicaraguan sun.





The preparation of la sopa de res, our enormous midday meal. The woman on the right is Gloria, Mick's mother. She works at the Casa de Cultura. As you can see, the soup is being heated by a wood fire.










The view from my hammock while I digested la sopa. Later that afternoon we marched up to El Fortin, the old fort/prison overlooking the city, for the annual celebration of the Liberation of Leon. As a foreigner, I was advised not to bring my camera, so unfortunately I have no photographs of the event. The Sandanista political party (FSLN) enjoys great support in Leon, and it seemed as though everyone were wearing red and black, the party colors.

Los Hombres

Cristian, my friend the poet and schoolteacher. He is scrambling to finish his homework for our theater group. The homework? List the things you do not like.


Mick, the boss of the theater group. He and Cristian have been best friends since childhood. Mick moved to Holland a year and a half ago but he and his Dutch wife, Julia, will be living in Leon until late September. They are volunteering their time, teaching many classes to local children and taxi drivers.

Even while writing I'm thinking about "Gimnasio Muscle Power"

The toilet only flushes when it's dark outside.
My bed. I sleep without a sheet. My favorite thing about the room might be the huge mahogany closets you can see in the background. If a thief wants to steal my passport he'll have to take the closets along as well.
The patio and courtyard outside my door. Unfortunately the piano is currently out of tune.

Mi Cuarto

Tiled floor, rocking chair, television with far too many channels, and my work table.