Greetings from Matagalpa
By Grace Carballo ‘17
I’m in Matagalpa now which is super cool compared to Managua, both in terms of climate and also just in terms of the general vibes it projects. I’m working on my ISP which stands for Independent Study Project, emphasis on the independent.
I have 30 days to conduct this research, first in Matagalpa and then in Managua. Unfortunately, I spent the first few days of this very limited span of time riddled with illness. When a well-meaning classmate asked “¿Como estás?” as good conversationalists tend to, I muttered “sick as a dog”, because it was time to stop being polite and get real.
Though I like to think my moral fiber is strong, physically, I am frail as they come, with a close-minded digestive system and bones made of glass, no doubt.
The infamous night of the fever marked the beginning of an 11-day journey of discomfort, full of Electrolit and other oral-rehydrating beverages, multiple doctor visits, and plenty of concerned mothers (S/O to Jules, Jean Louise, and María Jose- I’d die without you).
My fever reached 39 degrees Celsius and luckily the wifi in my house was working because I spent the night googling Fahrenheit conversions and group-messaging my U.S. mom and U.S. grandma for medical advice and virtual maternal embraces.
The low point of this night was when I got up around 2 am to use the bathroom and mid-journey lost my ability to see for a good 10-15 seconds. I did not love the experience, as formative as I’m sure it could have been with the right outlook; but I literally couldn’t see a thing, let alone the big picture.
After that, I lay on the cool tile floor for a few hours, unable to move out of fear and also self-pity.
My amazing host family was gravely concerned and took me to their favorite doctor, pictured here. After this photo was taken, he explained to me that you cannot live a healthy life without eating meat and that Jesus (also pictured) ate fish and Jesus ate meat, so I should, too. I countered as best I could in my weak state and in my second language that if Jesus saw the horrors of factory farming and inhumane slaughter methods, he’d probably be the poster child for Veggie Fests everywhere, but I think we’re both unwilling to change our opinions on this matter.
In the subsequent days, I experienced a number of troubling symptoms and consumed exclusively rice, Gatorade, bananas, and “suero”, the rehydrating beverage the farmacias sell. There are three farmacias in La Colonia in Managua where we live and I bought out every last one of them of all the good “suero” flavors.
If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, which I hope you don’t because I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy let alone a loyal blog-reader, I recommend the “Coco” or “Piña” flavors. The powder “Fresa” kind is a lot cheaper than the pre-mixed glass bottles I’ve recommended, but you get what you pay for.
It turns out what I had was an intestinal infection and some different parasites. I lost some weight in this process, as we learned at one of the doctors when he graciously converted the kilograms to pounds.
(I should really learn to find meaning in Celcius, grams, etc. next time I decide to leave the land of the free and home of the absurd units of measurement).
The 10 odd pounds seem to have disappeared exclusively from my elbows which are pointier than ever. They’re next-level pointy, like when you draw a sassy stick figure.
Other than that, I’m pretty much back to normal, and I’m sure I’ll gain it all back given that I am fully in charge of all my own meals now, ice cream (called “Eskimo” here, which is the brand) costs less than 50 cents, and my two-pound jar of peanut butter I bought to sustain me when the “going got tough” is already gone.
Our stipend during this month of research is equivalent to $18/day. My hotel in Matagalpa costs about $9.25 a night and I love spending as little money as possible on food; it’s a game for me like Extreme Couponing is for some. One night as a special treat, I bought hot cocoa powder and ate it dry with peanut butter, while pretending it was puppy chow.
Yesterday, I bought tortillas from the tortilla saleswoman near the Cathedral above (cannot say enough good things about her though we met for the first time 24 hours ago), tomato sauce/paste, and cheese from a young woman in a pulpería to make a pizza of sorts for a grand total of about $1.50. Incidentally, I did throw up later that night but I think the cheese was possibly too aged, which some might consider a delicacy.
This veggie can is also often a go-to and sometimes for breakfast, I get the Nica equivalent of V-8, peanuts with raisins, and a few bananas from the kind banana saleswomen.
When buying from street vendors, I exclusively buy from women. Why? Because they’ve never wronged me, I trust them, and also because a few weeks ago, we had a really good lesson from a professor at the UCA about neoliberalism and gender, “a convenient marriage”, and basically women need to be supporting other women because life sure as hell ain’t easy and the systems in place only make it harder.
Which segways quite nicely into the topic of my research- I’m investigating how women’s groups and feminist organizations in Matagalpa and Managua are working to change the prevailing machista culture and break the cycle of violence against women.
It has been unbelievably inspiring so far learning from these new heroines of mine and all the amazing work they are doing, from creating original works of theater to present in different communities, (which allow audience members to identify with characters and reflect on the violence they may be living or perpetuating), to facilitating workshops for girls to become soccer referees and officiate and organize their own games (combatting gender roles that say women should be in the house), to art exhibitions depicting the lives and stories of victims of femicidios (which is starting an important dialogue and puts a face to the facts rattled off on the news), to many more efforts which I will describe in my final report.
It will be in Spanish, my attempt at reciprocity though it certainly does not repay all the time and information these women have shared with me, and I will send it to the organizations I have interviewed and observed, but my plan is to also translate it to English over winter break because there is so much we can learn from these women and use in our own fights against inequality.
I’m going to do another more detailed post about the works of these great organizations once I have their permission to share, outside of the context of my research, some of the photos and videos I’ve taken. Also, something to be mindful of is November 25th is International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. There will be marches in Matagalpa and Managua that Wednesday and also this weekend, but this is a movement across the globe and everyone should participate or at least be aware of it.
For now, I will leave you with that, because I have a meeting with my advisor here shortly and an interview with a feminist collective’s radio program later this afternoon. Everyday here I get to be in the presence of greatness.
Fight On ~For Social Justice~,
Grace Carballo
P.S. I didn’t get as much work done yesterday as I had hoped to because the power went out in the whole city, but the management at my hotel gave me matches and candles, and I used the remaining battery on my laptop wisely AKA to dance to the timeless tunes of Joan Jett. Enjoy!
Also the power came back on before my mother worried too much about my lack of checking in and the embassy was not called, thank goodness.
