Me dicen "nos vemos, nunca adios."

Today is my last day at Opportunity International. I am slowly finishing up on the work that I have been doing, slowly transferring information to Karla who will follow up on some of the tasks that I have started and/or finished, and wrapping up the items that I will hand over to my supervisor Geralyn. She left for the USA this morning, to accompany a mother with her handicapped child to Rochester, MN where he will have a surgery that will save and transform his life. The initiative to fundraise for this little boy blew me away, and Geralyn's efforts to make this trip as easy as possible for this poor mother and her little son who have never gone beyond Nicaraguan borders, let along to a cold winter in Midwest America. Ger, her 15 year old daughter Santhi, and I went to El Balcon for one last dinner with the 3 of us; the place they took me for dinner my first night in Granada, the restaurant that overlooks the central park and main cathedral, where my journey took roots. I had an odd feeling that I just arrived. That it was my first day at work, my first day of my life here, and not like I spent the past month working with these dedicated, passionate people at Opportunity, living in my comfortable and colorful home, meeting exciting travelers and open-hearted locals. As the wind took full control of my hair, I had the most vivid deja vu, unwilling to let go of it; the feeling that I am embarking on a journey of learning and seeing and feeling, rather than ending it.

Today at work I could feel their conspiracies. The quick runs to the kitchen with large covered plates. Their intentional distractions when some details were being discussed. What a subtle goodbye party this was :) At 10 am they all gathered around my desk, anticipation in their eyes and began to sing and laugh and drag me to the central room where the table was decorated with flowers and the cutest little deserts I have ever seen. We sat together, we shared what we felt about our experiences with one another this past month, and I could not hold in the tears. Dona Gilda expressed her sadness that I will be leaving when I bring such enthusiasm to the office. Dona Lesbia said that she has never met anyone so willing to jump into an unfamiliar task in an unfamiliar place with such curiosity and determination. Soraya and Howel commented on my charm, and everyone nodded with large smiles extending from ear to ear. Dona Marcia said I was a blessing, right before Don Roberto (our guard) recited a poem for me and thanked me for our friendship. Amistad. Isabel began to tear up and repeated "Nuestra amistad." I simply sat there, unable to touch my food, so taken aback by the feeling at the pit of my stomach, spreading around my chest of pure love for these people. The nagging emptiness that I am not ready or meant to leave began creeping up my throat and I could barely say anything. I have never felt so appreciated and so thankful for the experiences and friendships I have built at work. These people's dedication to work with the poor, to walk with the most disadvantaged, has given me so much hope, so much energy, that I am simply unwilling to leave. Had I not have to graduate in May, I would have decided to stay in one heartbeat.

It has been odd what has been happening to me these past few days. Perhaps it is the yoga, or the meditation, or my learning and understanding of my body's chakras (energy centers), or simply my lone co-existence with my own thoughts most of the time, that has got me to understand myself more. I have been thinking of my purpose, my happiness, my path. The path laid out and the path I shape, in synchronicity. I had an acupuncture session on Wednesday and during the process I felt my mind strongly aware and connected to every inch of my body, while my body extending to the universe. I left 'Pure' only to notice the slight discomfort between my eyebrows. The only spot where I could feel a consequence of the needle. I was so curious that I began to read online; what is this spot targeting and why does it feel different. Every website connected this spot with awareness and connectedness to one's own thoughts--the Third-Eye Chakra. I couldn't believe how much sense it made. I have been aware of my thoughts, my surroundings, and my relation to the universe more than ever; stimulating this chakra, opening it more than my body is used to. The discomfort goes in and out throughout the day, as I note its strongest influence during those times when I am left alone with my thoughts.

As we stood there in a circle with all 16 staff members of Opportunity, holding hands and listening to Dona Marcia's prayer, I felt the power of friendship and love and openness surround the circle. "Dear God, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for Vera. Her presence in our office, her dedication, her curiosity and open heart light up our space with so much enthusiasm, we are sad to let her go. Take care of her, so she travels safely, finished school successfully, and comes back to us". I was fully, utterly, completely happy.

Nos vemos.

Walking the path.

It was a rough week, manifesting itself into a very early night on Friday. A great sin of mine, but all I could allow my body to do. Since the theft incident at Cesaritos, I have been contemplating purchasing another camera, and came to the obvious solution that I am a photo maniac and cannot skip on capturing this whole experience of mine, beginning to end. So early on Saturday I got on my favorite chicken bus, speeding into the crowded streets while the man at the door shouted his bus' promotion "ManaguaManaguaManagua...". The words simply rolling off his tongue, he is not a unique case. Since all the buses are private in Nicaragua, the diver always has an employee whose job description is to scream at the people on the street trying to get them on his bus, flailing his arms up in disapproval if they shake their heads as if turning down a bus ride to another city is the same as turning down milk Swiss chocolate.
The one hour ride I spent looking at the surroundings, wondering why on earth I am this lucky to experience opportunities like this. This great country has shown its smiley folk, its colorful streets, its beautiful crafts and blood-pumping music with me, not to even mention the lessons from working with the microentrepreneurs and the dedicated staff at Opportunity.
At the Mentrocentro I bought a camera and thought of how I can put it into use immediately. I decided to listen to Jefferson (guy working at my guesthouse) and visit the new cathedral. Wow. A large, concrete structure, with no facade, no color, and unfinished large semi-balls on the tall roof. Inside the cathedral were bare walls with the occasional life-size doll of Jesus or Mother Mary. My favorite was the Jesus "glitter" room; an oval small room with wholes in the wall as to let shine through enough to make "Jesus appear alive". Again, I simply wandered about the true art of Catholicism as well as the deep, anonymous pockets in which the $$ for finishing the cathedral went.

On the way back to Granada, I stopped in Masaya, walked around the city for a while, before hitting up the market. And not the overpriced, neat, tourist-targeting Mercado Artisanio, but the hectic, smelly, crammed, and incredibly cheap local market. I bought some gifts, a nice hammock for my room, and interacted with some fun local people ready to charm me into buying their products.
Arriving late in Granada, I decided to stay in town. My journal, my postcards and a nice pina colada; I enjoyed people watching sitting on the main street. That is when Avi, our office's Peace Corps volunteer walked by with a group of friends (local and foreign) and proposed that I join them. His house was a blast; getting to know his friends, working on my Spanish. As any other outing night we headed for "Cafe Nuit". As poorly dressed as I was, I had little restraint from hitting up the dance floor. Manuel, a random guy I met at a random poker tournament, who makes a living by giving chess, ping pong and dance lessons, a walking legend of Granada, gave me a few lessons in the middle of the bar. In no time were people watching as he twisted me, twirled me, and lead us into some astonishing moves. Sure I will not be able to look like this dancing ever again, I enjoyed it immensely. As much as I promised I would not go down to the lake late on weekend nights, I couldn't resist what sounded like a calm, beach bar right on the lake. It did not disappoint.
Considering the late night, I headed for the Granada Isletas a bit later than expected the next morning. From the 345 islands on Lake Cocibolca, I had to chose only one to stay on for most of the day for convenience sake. I hired a little boy to take me around the islands, enjoying the clouds reflecting in the clear blue waters, the palm trees shooting tall from each small island, as well as the water lilies covering a good chunk of the lake. Cafe Cife seemed like a good spot, and I was dropped off on its tiny island. Absorbing some sun rays, recycling my energy, looking deeply into the waters and myself, I had a perfectly enjoyable Sunday afternoon. After a plate of fresh shrimp my friend returned and brought me to shore, as the sun was setting down on the right side of Mombacho volcano. What a paradise. I couldn't help but feel guilty for having the opportunity to see these sights, enjoy their calming beauty. Though I am helping local people, powering up the local economy, I cant help but feel a slight tinge of guilt when I do touristy things. Though I shop at the local market and not the supermarkets, I am staying at a local guy's guesthouse instead of one of the foreign-owned ones, I am eating at the 'comedores' instead of the touristy restaurants...I cant explain the unsettling feeling I get when I have too much fun. Looking at the locals around me though calms my troubled mind as they are such an easy-going crowd, ready for enjoyment no matter what they can afford to go or what they can allow themselves to see.
The week began as intense as the rest. Acknowledging that this is my last week at work, I had to consolidate what all is reasonable for me to attempt to finish. The write-ups and the photos for the website were sent to Zac, the Fair Trade application was coming along nice, though the tag orders were dragging behind. I finally found locally produced, recycled paper for the production of Ojala's product tags, however, arranging samples, getting full detail on the colors and the costs is getting to be a bit of a long-term process. Two newbies joined the office this week as well. Karla is a 26 year old wonderful woman who has been needing some help with adjusting as well as her English. She will be taking over what I have began to do with Ojala promotion so I have enjoyed spending time with her. Adolfo is also an English-speaker and eager to get involved with everything, even the decisions that lay with Geralyn. I am excited to spend time with him and Howell when we meet up in Ometepe next week. While I am taking my 6 day vacation, hiking up the 2 volcanoes on Ometepe Island, they will be visiting as to meet with a group of plantain farmers as to explore the option of facilitate exports of their products, and encourage the reuse of plantain leaves that their wives can turn into gorgeous hats, baskets and even paper. This new project sounds amazing and I am happy to have the opportunity to spend my second-to-last day in Nicaragua observing, learning, and absorbing community development work, that is environmentally sustainable and economically encouraging, at its major best.
Now bed is calling me--my ju jit su master has been working me up insanely (though if I keep up this traveling alone thing, I will indeed need a few moves in the worst of cases), while my yoga instructor has been calming my aura, replacing late nights at the cafe with early nights with a book.

Beyond Microfinance.

This past week I have been able to visit a few of the entrepreneurs; take photographs of them, their family employed in their business, their workshops and their products. Some of the places I have visited so far, such as the woodwork ship, or the recycled aluminum shop, have been run by women, a primary target for developing a proper economic development in the community. Development research shows that investing with women in the communities always trickles down to the factors demanding most change, such as investing in children’s schooling and the family’s access to proper sanitation and proper health care.

However, this week I had the privilege of visiting Sergio, a single father who is the primary care taker of his young and quite charming son, Mario. They live in a very secluded area off the beaten path to the Mombacho volcano, toward the town of Masaya. The bus dropped Carolina and I off at the base, and we began our hike up the dirt road. Forty minutes later we arrived at his chicken farm rising above his small house. The loan he received nine years ago allowed him to buy the proper materials and tools to build the sheds, and begin with a few chickens. Today, Sergio has over 50 chickens and has found a few effective markets to sell the eggs. He is very motivated, vary savvy, but also very calm and content. Speaking to him about his experience and taking some pictures for the website, I found myself enjoying his company and the company of his young and curious son who wished to impress me with any little thing he could find. I left their house feeling very impressed and slightly contradicted. It was the first time I saw a microfinancing institution investing in a man for such a long and dedicated period of time. Very often the criticism is that the woman is the caretaker of the home, and the one who will reinvest the profits into bettering the standard of living of the whole family, while the man would either drink, gamble or invest the money poorly. However, what happens when the man is a caretaker of the house? Exactly this. The responsibility to raise a child and ensure its bright future by being able to pay the school fees when he becomes of age, is a driving force not only for women, but for men living in less developed nations.

This week I am continuing with my inventory matching and photographing products for the website, although I am very well aware that it might take months until the Ojala store on the website is actually launched. The NGO needs to find a way to ship and store products for a low cost in a location in the US as to be able to take orders. Additionally, I have enjoyed describing the products as there is a story behind each one. The photographs I have taken of the entrepreneurs fit in it every portion of the website, as they are the faces and the personalities that drive this kind of work.

I had to divide the work Opportunity Nicaragua does in 3 different secions:

1.Economic Transformation: which includes the Ojala investments whose products we will sell on the website (the recycled aluminum, the linen clothes etc.), the IDEA fund investments (the chicken farm, the fishing dock, etc.), the Farm Loans program (the yuka and malanga coco they grow and process for the local markets and for exporting to Florida), and the business and leadership training sessions.

2. Social Transformation: includes the construction of the water aqueduct in a small community outside of Masaya, as well as the construction of a few libraries with reading programs for adults, knitting lessons for kids etc. This is the part of Opportunity’s pilot project—investing with communities as a whole, in long term, sustainable projects.This is the idea that while individual loans could aid a micro entrepreneur put food on the table, investing in more sustainable, community-organized and led projects will go beyond, to the betterment of the community's prosperity as a whole. Going beyond microfinancing. Investing WITH communities, building their capacity, and facilitating the creation of just and responsible inside leadership to continue the journey.

3. Spiritual Transformation: this includes the construction of churches and the funding of the Vida Joven (Young Life) program.

This leads me to my last point in this entry. The spiritual side of this organization’s development work; where I personally have a tiny bit of struggle and doubt. In a very Catholic nation it is difficult to separate work and private life from religious devotion. Jesus’ name is everywhere, on the sides of buses, on every home’s wall, while churches radiate loud singing even at 8pm at night. Using the lord’s name in vain is not only going to offend one or two persons in your proximity, but will make a whole towns square cringe.

I have never been raised or nurtured to gain my motivation, my reason for living from a religious entity. I am a highly spiritual person, easily intrigued by beautiful mosques, ancient churches, and the power of Buddhist mediation. However, I have always been a skeptic of the organized, the structured and the institutionalized religion. While I cant say it has been difficult, I can easily say I have had my skeptic moments when speaking to some of the staff or when sitting through the 1.5 hours devotion session that happens every Monday morning. It is part of their community building, their getting to know one another deeper than what a daily interaction may allow. However, I have had little to share, often feeling inadequate for not having this great devotion to a greater being. As if I am missing a big chunk of my reason to exist and do this sort of work. “Walking with the poor as Jesus said we should”. If I don’t get my motivation from Jesus, then where does it come from? Why am I not chasing a good-paying job in Midwest America that will sustain a luxurious lifestyle?

I am well aware that I get my passion and my reason from something else, something greater than my physical body. But it is mine. It is from my heart, my soul, and my desire to ease other people’s lives as mine surely is. However, in a country so heavily devoted to god, I feel a bit out of the loop. In a city where there are more missionaries and churches than civil servants and town hall offices, I am slightly an outcast. Missing church, not being able to contribute to their devotional sharing, and not mentioning the luck and love god has given me every four sentences, I am different here.

But that is alright. I have enjoyed working with the staff here. I learn something about them and their culture and their devotional spirits every time the topic of religion and faith comes up. And I cherish that for what it is and not let it hinder my work, my feeling of belonging, or my passion for working in community development even if I am surrounded by a religiously motivated individuals. So what if Jesus isn’t my main motivation? So what if I cant contribute to the service? I am here, aren’t I? If they wish to see Jesus working through my hands, that is fine with me. I will simply continue caring, listening, moving with the community.

Sting Ray.

It has been a very ironic week.
Work has been going well, yet a bit inefficient. My supervisor's aspiring demands do not necessarily translate into admiringly efficient means. I have been doing inventory recording and photographing for the aspiring Ojala website, however, have been working with some wrong data and using the old label uninformed that there might be a new one soon (perhaps, maybe, no one knows). Used to such changes, lack of communication and guidance, I just fixed it up and began all anew. That's non-profit work in a less developed nation; prone to changes as the days go by, demanding a high level of patience and flexibility.
Additionally, the western-style worker in CA is demanding the submission of all my writings and photos without consideration that out of 5 trips planned, I am actually able to go to 2--either because they are all in villages far away taking half my day, or because the people have lives to live and mouths to feed and may not always be available to fit us into their day.
Balancing the different pulls is indeed a struggle that I am sure to overcome.

In the midst of a difficult week at work, I got a surprising phone call. Dave left me a message that him, Kate, Trev, Beau and Malissa (my crowd from the lagoon) will stay in Granada for a few days :))) I enjoyed their company once again; all 6 of us comprising quite the unique group. We met some locals, made some other foreign friends who would join for our nightly excursions, and had a great time. But all carelessness comes to an end, and I had the bad luck and lack of attention on my side. Dancing at the local club on the lake I had my purse stolen: camera, phone, money, credit cards... I was quite mad that I grew so trusting of the place we were at and put my guard down. The trouble of replacing items, and calling banks to ensure no further damage is as frustrating as ever. However, with the light of day I realized that the material will get replaced, the cards will get canceled, though the trust and comfort in my new hometown are not worth losing.

However, the twist of events and the goodbyes with my new crowd did bring down my spirits. I decided to skip work due to the lack of sleep and figure out my banking situation when I ran into the 5 leaving the bank before their departure. Fate. In less then 30 minutes I was convinced and packed for spending my weekend with them, out of town.

La Playa Popoyo, close to San Juan Del Sur, sounded like the secluded, quite paradise I needed to relax and forget last night's experience. The Pacific was cold, wavy, but perfect, and the hostel simple and comfortable. However, it wasn't long until Vera's newly erupting bad luck began to kick impatiently, and a sting ray answered its call. Walking in the water, I felt the bite on my foot. I got so dizzy as the poisonous toxins began to crawl up my leg, and my blood gushed out rapidly. Growing slowly unconscious and dizzy with the pain, Dave threw me across his shoulders and ran to the hostel where the staff hurried around to look at the damage. I don't really know how to describe this pain as it doesn't compare to anything i have ever felt. As the poison was crawling up, I was clenching my teeth and gripping at the table like an unhappy Hercules. One of the staff members knew best and said it load and clear to suppress my hopes: "A sting ray. Toxins are going in her blood. Put foot in boiling water. Pain will go on for a few hours. Then fine." That is when i threw a reckless glance at the Flor the Cana (a local rum) and didn't hesitate one bit. The pain indeed lasted for 2 full hours of cringing, biting my hand, muffling my screams, before it began to subside as i fell into drunken stupor on the hammock.

The night continued well as I rested by the bonfire, limped around, grateful the worst was over and hoping there will be no need for additional medical attention. I felt fine and grateful to have had people around me on whom I could count on and feel safe with.

We said our goodbyes this morning as Beau and Malissa headed toward Costa Rica, and Kat, Trev and Dave headed to Managua to get Dave on a plane for Alberta before continuing on just them two. I am back in Granada, back to my house, resting and hoping I will not need 4 times the amount of time to get to work in the morning.

La Laguna de Apoyo

After a few bus changes, one of which forced me to be that last person jumping in and half-hanging through the ride, I got myself to the Monkey Hut, a small but gorgeous hostel above the Apoyo Lagoon. The two dread-head Argentinians who run this cabin-looking place in th middle of the most green vegetation right above the lagoon welcomed me into this relaxed and exotic environment stirred up by the tunes of Bob Marley.
Half of the day I spent hours laying on the dock, laying on the tube and laying on my favorite hammock on the large terrace. Laying.
The water was incredibly warm as the bottom of the lagoon is volcano residue from the latest eruption by Mombacho high above. As disturbing as that should sound, I was simply pleased to be able to remain in the water for hours and not get a chill or a goose-bump.

The previously empty dorm was filled when I got back inside with the oddest yet funnest crowd. Though their travels, Kat, Dave and Trev (young fellow Canadians) met Melissa and Beau (young in spirit, wife and husband from Ohio and Australia) and naturally stuck together for visiting the lagoon. The perfect company to spend a few days with in this middle-of-nowhere paradise. Cooking, playing cards, tubing, night swimming, writing, fixing drinks...The two days went by quite quickly. I enjoyed myself immensely, resulting in my last night spent on my hammock, being woken up by the sunrise for work :) The buses back to Granada were the same loud and overflowing story, while my attention span at work was at a minimal.

Another weekend vacation would be the way to go after what I expect to be another 8am-6pm working days week. I have so much to get done--pictures of the workers and the products due as soon as possible, inventory matching, stories and descriptions writing...I hope to post the website as soon as all items are in, and Zach finishes the layout.

Well, my book and my hammock outside are waiting.

Nuevo hogar, nuevos observaciones, nueva vision.

More Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2051675&l=63df1&id=40402759

It was a brief moment as I was walking back from work, that I noticed it. The lack of attention. The looks of familiarity instead of curiosity. "Verita, Verita!" The simple shouts coming from behind the small snack stand sealed the deal.

I am not a tourist in my neighborhood anymore. I am still a gringo, but not one that buys the souvenirs, wears inappropriately short shorts unobservant of the common attire, and gives a few cordobas to the persistent children who are simply encouraged by this new jump in earnings to skip classes yet another day. Today I felt that I was at the doorstep of being a part of this community, something quite unimaginable for my short stay. However, it is not time that I use as a unit of measurement, but a comfortable coexistence I can sense in myself and the people around me, such as Opportunity's staff, the persons working at the guesthouse, and those whose houses I walk by a few times a day.
It is a humbling and encouraging feeling at the same time.

My Spanish has also improved. Traveling to visit microentrepreneurs with Carolina, and the desire to ask them questions, learn more about their lives, hear their stories, forced me out of my cowardly shell and got me spitting correct and incorrect words in a jumble of sentences; the correct pile growing slightly each day. I also abandoned the awkward feeling of confusion mixed with curiosity and excitement, and replaced it with a feeling of comfort mixed with the desire to observe, participate and absorb especially since I already know my way around the city. Though work is quite unique every day, my day has some positive routine to it:

1. I wake up very early, and while getting ready I drink a cup of good coffee and fruit cut fresh by my host as she scorns why I leave with no desayuno completo (complete breakfast). She does it every day and strangely, I like it even though I never actually have time to sit down and satisfy her wishes.

2. Work goes from 8-5:30. It is a long day made much easier by the fact that I adore the people with whom I work, I enjoy the privilege of having a small working desk and wireless internet, and await for the next exciting opportunity to go out in the field. I rarely get disappointed. There is much to do and I do not grow tired of it.

3. I have 1 break to take when I want and for how long I want. As I have been working since the first day I got here, and return home with the sunset at 6, I have been spending my breaks exploring the city, walking around, watching, smelling, listening. I found that I especially enjoy the market and purposefully do not stalk up on food so I can go every afternoon.

A night view from my room into the house' open courtyard.

3. As the weather is about 33 d C, or 95 d F, I come back from work scorching hot and I dive right into the small pool in the middle of my guesthouse. Its too small for serious laps but I make it work. Also, as of yesterday I am a member of the gym a block up north, where I now have taken Zumba dancing lessons and a very good, quite intense, yoga classes.

4. After a shower and a fix of my tiny closet-room that I have grown to call my pleasant haven, I fix up some food, oftentimes simply consisting of a fresh pineapple, cantaloupe or tomatoes with goat cheese. Not sure if its the heat, but my meat intake has decreased immensely. I am sorry mom.

5. Being new and alone in town, I have no acquaintances or connections. However, this is not limiting or ultimate. I meet people everyday, whether at the coffee shop or the market. I also met two brothers from Amsterdam who are traveling around Central America on quad bikes and were my company for a few days. Spending time at their hostel's restaurant/bar got me acquainted with many more backpackers with incredibly unique stories making for great late-night conversations. It has also been a bit easier to explore the youngen-spots around town. I was quite unsure about the cautions agianst walking around alone at night as this place appears very safe. However, as I have come to learn, a girl my age does not walk around solo as she may be easily mistaken for a prostitute.

Though my backpacker friends left as all backpackers do, I said adios, promising to keep in touch. However, I am not sad because I am not only sure I will meet new company, but also because I have also found that I do enjoy my time alone. The first two days I was so curiously anxious that I wished I had someone to share these feelings with. However, I have grown so comfortable being with me, myself and I in my new short-term home. Being alone is incredibly serene, peaceful, and wholesome. I actually follow through with the thought-chains that form in my head as there is oftentimes no one around me to interrupt this random mind-blabber solely to avoid silence, which we so often do. I have grown to appreciate my silence as it gives me the chance to note my surrounding and its voices. People are fascinating to observe' their performance of daily activities and their facial expressions like a chapter of a good book.

As I am trying to shape this blog into a personal journal and an internship reflection, I will not so smoothly transition into some thoughts, conversations and observations from my working hours.

I finally found the fair trade certification most applicable to Opportunity's brand of Ojala products--IFAT, or the Word Fair Trade Organization. The application is quite extensive, yet not my present focus. What I have successfully got myself into is exactly what the women producing for Ojala needed--promotion and the possibility for a greater market for their products. The first I am addressing by taking photographs of all the products, as well their stores, production sites, all while recording their stories. By Monday I will be sending Zach, a web designer from Cali, pictures and detailed descriptions of products, as well as the faces behind these products. The web page will allow more store owners around Nicaragua to view the products and extend help in retailing, as well as open up a way for persons from the US and Canada to purchase products online. This second goal of exporting to the US is a bit ahead of the possibilities at the moment, as storage and transportation of larger quantities must first be assured.

Yesterday, Carolina and I visited Maria in Masaya who has been receiving loans from Opportunity (through its local partner ASODENIC) for 4 years now. She uses the money to buy differing types of wood, employs her whole family (3 men) to cut, glue, mold, and shape the wooden containers and vases, and then sells them with the distributional help of Opportunity to the 3 stores in Nicaragua (in Granada, Managua and San Juan del Sur).

Today Carolina and I took a bus to get to a small neighborhood outside of Managua. It was probably the poorest spot I have seen so far, with its lack of roads, clogged sewage system that could be smelled from kilometers away, and its the shack-style houses. However, it still seemed carelessly lively; people busying around the streets, concrete or tin houses colored brightly, and children providing an alive background noise. Myra has been receiving loans for 8 years now, declaring a large improvement in her business' success and her standard of living throughout the years. She heard from her brother in Mexico that items made of recycled aluminium can be attractive for tourists so she began investing in her own business, employing her 2 sons and her husband. What was most encouraging was her confession that she wouldn't have been able to send her third son to university if she hadn't improved her business.
The workshop was full of molds and products, while the small store she opened in front of her house was full of shining wall decorations, vases, mirrors, decorative plates. We discussed the possibility of advertising her products to churches as well as in the more touristy, artisan market in Masaya. The local market is simply for necessities, the focus group completely mistaken.

Before I end this incredibly long blog entry, I must mention something about my observant criticisms of microfinancing, prompted by long conversations with my supervisor at the office. Though I am far from a critic (yet), trying to be a realist I have grown to calculate the real interest rates of microfinace institutions, and that is not the poverty-allivating tool it started as. 2% is the interest rate MFIs write on promotional material, the interest rate they explain to the borrower sitting across the table. They vaguely mention the commission fee, the service charge, and the cancellation fees, all which contribute to the real numbers: 38-60% depending on the MFI. Now ASODENIC's records show they remain at a "low" 42% even with the increasing trend due to commercial banks entering the microfinance investment pool. This has turned microfianance around for many regions. It simply has become a profit-making tool for banks (even commercial banks like American Express) while it has remained a "maintenance" tool for the poor, a tool that provides business owners with capital to begin a business with a rare chance to prosper beyond subsistence. Raising to substance is an improvement for many, and therefore I do still believe that loaning to the poor is a human right andmicrofinance does that. However, it is not development. Development is bigger than 3 months, and $150.

I have come to understand that investing WITH the poor, for 5-10 year periods, in community projects that benefit the community as a whole is the second step that has not yet been recognized behind the hype that small loaning has caused. Asset Based Community Development, as two professors from Northwester define it, is the process of finding the assets in the community, engaging the people with one another and their community's associations, facilitating means for them to map out a project they would like to accomplish. For example, while ASODENIC continued to loan out the small, short-term loans, Opportunity got involved in investing with the poor in a community north of the city to bring water to their homes. The process, from digging ditches, to well creation, to pipe installment was done by community members solely with the oversight of Opportunity staff.

This is the type of continual, larger-scale and long-term investment that must occur in communities around the world. While microfinance can provide for small loans for business start-up, investing with the poor in larger, sustainable projects will truly mean economic development. So when the microfinance hype ends as more and more question the reason commercial banks enter this process that is meant to aid the poor not make money from it, my hopes are that funding will turn to more sustainable projects that use local assets and talents all while improving the standard of living of the community as a whole.

Speaking to Geralyn is like a development class in its own unique category. She has been great to work with, and quite influential with her criticisms and her inspirations.

Now as the hammock is leaving permanent diamonds on my legs, I will drift off to sleep. I have a strong desire to spend 2 days by the lagoon right below the Mombacho volcano, so I will be attempting the local bus tomorrow, the bus that has persons hanging on all sides of it, in hopes of an empty bed in the lagoon huts.

Buenas Noches.

Community Economic Development

1. Work is community based.
2. The primary focus is on assets, both in people and in communities, not on needs or limitations.
3. Lead with economic development.
4. Lending to the poor is better than charity, and investing with the poor is better than lending.
5. Develop the leadership capacity of the community.
6. Never do for the poor what they can do for themselves.
7. Don't get ahead of the people.