Yesterday, I found myself riding in a potato truck. This
mostly happened due to a cascade of random events, fate and well you know; I
live in the campo of Nicaragua. This simple event brought me so much joy, it
totally turned my day around and made me change my attitude and appreciate all
the random adventures I have here.
I had been back in site all of two days, when I decided that
I needed to get out, because I was going crazy!!! It is all a state of mind,
really, I have spent many more days doing much less then I did yesterday, but I
was feeling restless, and furthermore a friend of mine had decided to leave
site, and was tempting me with the option of going out to dinner and watching a
movie, so you see I had very little choice in the matter…
November, December, and part of January are really boring
months in my site (I mean life is never super riveting here) but these months
are extraordinarily boring because everyone is out cutting coffee, and it pours
rain every other hour, people close their houses up when they leave to go out
into the fields, and those who stay lock themselves inside to hide from the
cold rain and abandoned streets. Even the kids go cut coffee. Both my kids
meetings on Thursday and Friday were canceled (not because I canceled them but
because no one showed up, and honestly, who am I to say that they should give
up a day’s work to come to my two hour book club or baking class).
It was about 3pm when I decided I would try to go. I had
been ‘waiting’ for some people to come to my house all day, and had been super
lazy (because it was sooo cold, I just wanted to stay in bed, and the
persistent rain had me lulled into a comfortable dream state) I read in bed
until about 9am when I ate a healthy breakfast of Nuttela off a spoon, after
which I returned to bed to continue reading until 1pm when I ate more nutella
and some green bell peppers. That had been my day, finally one girl showed up
to discuss her application for a girls camp happening in February, called GLOW,
Girls Leading Our World. The girls going were supposed to be doing a raffle and
having bake sales to earn money to pay for the trip. but no one has come to the
last two meetings, and I refuse to do it for them. Grrrr I needed to get AWAY!
My last bus leaves a 4pm…I had one hour to pack and close up the house, which
is more involved then it sounds. I didn’t want to rush so I decided fate would
decide whether I was meant to go, and fate came, in the form of a potato truck.
Now to prepare to leave my house there are a few things I
have to do regardless of the rush I may be in. 1. Check that I haven’t left any
clothes outside that will get all wet and dirty after I have carefully washed
them by hand and moved them time and time again into the sun so they will dry
fully. 2. Empty my chamber pot, because that is super gross to come home to. 3.
Make sure my food containers are sealed so the little country mice don’t
squeeze themselves in there and have a little feast. 4. Fill up my water
buckets incase the water is shut off when I get back.
Ok with that done, I have no time to go through the bother
of heating water to bathe myself (which I had not wanted to do for the past two
days either, due to the freezing cold and rain) nor do I have time to change
(plus what’s is the point in dirtying more clothes if I’m not clean), so I
leave in my semi-clean jeans, muddy rainboots, and the same shirt I had been
wearing for 2 days (which smells like a wood burning stove). I throw some clean
clothes and soap into my bag (knowing very well that the shower options will be
better in the city) along with my computer (no point in going to the city
without it) and my adventure begins!
Not so fast, getting out of the house is only the first
process of getting out of my community. I still have to make it to the road
without anyone stopping me, and then find some motorized vehicle to get me the
heck out of there!
I walk maybe
ten meters and all these people are coming back from cutting coffee (most of
whom I have not seen since before the New Years) “Shit” , I realize I am
probably not going to escape unnoticed nor catch the 4pm bus. They do the
saunter/smile as they get closer and I know this is going to be a conversation,
no way to avoid it without being rude. I tell them “happy new Year” and “how
did you pass it?” they tell me that they thought I was NEVER coming back, and
how can I WHERE am I leave to with that back pack AGAIN??? Well I decide to
tell them the truth; “You are all cutting coffee and I am superrr bored and no one comes to my meetings and I want internet!” They surprisingly understanding
but they CAN’T let me be bored. They say, “why don’t you come visit us more if
your so bored, you are bored because you choose to hide in your house” (well
they do have a point there, I can’t bear to tell them I am also bored of
discussing the weather and town gossip with them) They invite me in for some
coffee and food. I knew I was going to miss the bus, but I decided to go with
it, thinking “fate”. I go in, we chat, joke, I eat beans, and scrambled eggs,
they tease me for not wanting my eggs fried in a bowl of oil, not liking salt,
and not wanting sugar in my coffee. I laugh along (I actually kind of missed
it, while I was away) At 4:30pm I leave deciding that maybe the last bus will
decide to pass late today after all (sometimes it passes, other times it
doesn’t, there is no way to know).
As I walk out to the main road I see a giant truck clearly
hauling something, it looks like they are on their way out of my site. Just as
I’m walking up to them someone asks, “where are you guys going?”, they say
“sebaco”. My heart rises in my chest, hooray, that is past Matagalpa where I
wanted to go! It would be AMAZING to get a ride! I would save the 4 dollars in
bus money (better spent on food, anyway) and I would not have to get on two
separate buses (which stop every meter) and then a taxi! Could this be fate???…
It was! I step up into the cabin, squished between to skinny
working men with mud covered jeans, and boots, both trying to give me a
respectable amount of space, typically silently curious. I try to make friendly
conversation but they are as quiet as can be, and honestly I’m fine with that
(talking to men here does not usually lead any place good). We ride along, I
find out they have potatoes in the back (all covered under a blue tarp) we pull
into customs at the city entrance where they tax everyone for bringing in
trucked goods, they negotiate with the customs guys and we pass through and
pull into a coffee unloading place (weird since we have potatoes…) the driver
proudly tells me, “Love, I lied, so we wouldn’t have to pay as many taxes, that
is why we have the tarp” he winks. Hmmm, pretty clever.
Above, dropping off "potatoes" at a coffee cooperative. The boy is untying the tarp from the trucks. The sacks on the left are all full loads of freshly cut coffee.
We worked our way very, very slowly up through the mountains
of Jinotega, passing beautiful fields of lettuce and beans, trees and rolling
hills, and then driving through a garbage dump which had spilled all over the
road, people coming home from the fields, machete or saw in hand, hauling
firewood, and people digging through the trash looking for bottles and cans, I
saw a monkey chained up in front of a house, and children playing with tires,
you would think after all this time here I would be used to these scenes, but I
think, I often shut myself off to them, too often, I choose not to see or am to
overwhelmed to be truly observant. This potato truck adventure had given me a
whole new type of freedom.
The truck dropped my off at a fork in the road near a
restaurant outside of Matagalpa it was dark, walking wasn’t an option but there
was no obvious bus stop (there hardly ever is). I went to the restaurant and
made yet another friend, his name was Ernesto, he was 18 years old and his mom
had just started renting this restaurant. He took me to where the buses are
supposed to stop, and when I asked “is it dangerous here at night” he replied
“maybe, a little bit for you, but I am going to wait with you”. What kindness
from a complete stranger! And this is what Nicaraguans are like! In the states
we think we are doing a good deed if we give someone directions but here they
will take you all the way to the place your looking for, or wait with you in
the rain for the bus until you get on one safely.
It was dark and raining (in the back of my mind I was
thinking, “this adventure might be getting a little sketchy now” but I had
Ernesto, so instead, I trusted in all the good of the day. My faith faded a bit
as we attempted to wave down 3 different buses, and none stopped. Ernesto said,
“that happens at night, the drivers don’t like to stop on the road”. I started getting
worried, it was getting dark and we were still 10km from the city, a taxi would
have been outrageously expensive and hitch hiking at night in a place you don’t
know isn’t my thing. I asked him if he knew anyone on the bus, he said “yes”,
he used to work on the buses. Perfect! I lent him my phone, he called his
friend, 10 minutes later a bus stops a couple feet ahead, I give him a quick
kiss on the cheek, thank him profoundly and I’m off. My adventure completed
successfully, soon to reunite with a friend, drink lattes, eat a wonderful dinner of bacon
bagel sandwiches, watch a movie, use internet and relax. I send a text to my
friend who is waiting “I caught a bus!” and he writes back “good, I was
secretly super stressed out because it is so late and dark”. Stressed? Why?
What can go wrong when you have a potato truck and Ernesto!?
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