April 13th, 2010: first night in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua

The only light in the house comes from this laptop, running on battery, in the middle of a power outage. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to be introduced to my new life. Sitting by candle light, I ate vegetables and beans with salsa picante alongside my host family and another student, an older German gentleman. His Spanish being much broader than my own, he quizzed them on Nicaraguan politics and health care, while I listened intently. Unable to truly participate, I was content to try and pick up words and piece the conversation together. The neighbors are sitting outside on their stoops, singing, chatting, enjoying the lull in routine.

I spent the day wandering, feeling a little disoriented from my new environment, the heat and the malaria medication. I found the school where I will be studying, right on the beach, and I sat along the shore wall dangling my feet and watching the boats bob up and down in the bay. I walked around town, absorbing my surroundings, and found some respite from the sunscreen in my eyes at a little café/bookstore where I read my own book for awhile and drank fresh juice.
A little self-imposed siesta, and a long, loving, albeit broken conversation with my host mother and sister, who is a teacher herself. She used to teach at the school where I will be studying, but now teaches high school students in the town; science, with an emphasis in biology. She told me, in Spanish, that she always wanted a sister, and was so excited to have me in her home, with such a genuine and warm glow that all my awkwardness dissipated in spite of my language barriers.

An amazingly invigorating cold shower, and then an attempt to find yoga class, to no avail, I explored town some more, finding myself on the beach at sunset. The amazing pink and the quickly dropping sun propelled me to wade in the water, watching kids play vigorous soccer games and volleyball. It seemed as though everyone came out to say goodbye to the sun.

Returning home before night fall, the power went out, and everyone took the time to laugh it off and breathe a sigh of relief as the sun’s heat disappeared for at least a little while.
It’s easier now to breathe. Without the anxiety dogging my every thought, I proceed slowly and deliberately into my new life, at least for the next two months. I begin class tomorrow, and have committed to throwing myself into Spanish and yoga for awhile, with the hopes of renting a bike and learning from new people.

This detoxification from my own life cannot come at a better time, I can breathe a little bit, meditate on what I value, and become the person I so whole-heartedly seek and truly already am, beneath all these layers which are easier to wash away than I ever realized. Nicaragua: sauna for the soul.