I have been working here for a while now and haven´t really introduced any one of my wonderful coworkers. I´m just going to briefly describe the staff of FUNARTE (aka the most inspirational people ever.)
Rafa- He was the first one we met. He is the quintessential joker. You ask him how to say something in Spanish and he tells you the wrong word so you can look like a baffling idiot infront of your bosses. Thats his deal. His deal is also being a male example to the kids he teaches. He is such a good teacher. He gets right in there with the kids and they love him. As do I.
Jafeth- Oh Jafeth. The staff here call him a child of 30 years old and it is so true. He´s the first to borrow one of the kids bicycle´s and ride it all around the art class being most disruptive. He is so welcoming though, never makes you feel weird for not understanding the language. I am so greatful for him here.
Manuel - If Rafa´s the joker and Jafeth´s the kid at heart, Manuel is the monkey. You will often find this amazingly fit 30 year old climbing something unclimbable, walking on his hands, or outrunning the kids in an intense game of soccer. He is a riot. Lovable and unstoppable.
Katy- Katy has the most fun with my name, every time she says it she cracks up and comes up with a million variations, ¨Shevonny, Shabonny, Shabonbonbon, CHEVVVVonnn..¨ It goes on for what seems to be forever.. She is my mentor and has taught me the most in terms of painting techniques. She never holds back if she doesnt like something I´ve done, she also is very constructive and I´ve learned a tonne from her.
Tania- Tania is a sweetheart, when she heard about my cousin she came right up to me and told me that her sister died last year from Leukemia while she was studying in Ireland. She just looked at me and we understood eachother. Shes got a lot of strength and poise for such a petite chica.
These are the instructors I work with the most on a day to day basis. There are also many influential volunteers like Nadine from Germany and Lena from Germany or some other regulars to FUNARTE from Esteli like Freddy (Jafeth´s nephew who takes after him alot...) Carlos (a quiet and timid teddy bear) and Tamara (you´ll always find her singing her heart out to the car radio, we have a lot in common...)
Hope that helps give you a better image of the people I work with here everyday. I am sooo lucky to have met these people, they are ridiculously amazing.
till the next time,
xo
S
About Me
- Siobhan Sweeny
- I'm a second year student at U of T in St. Michael's College studying Architecture, Visual Art Studio, and Art History. I never intended on going into the Intercordia Program but ended up in a meeting somehow and it spoke to me like nothing else had. I knew it was something I needed to do and I'm really excited to be spending May, June, July, and a little bit of August 2009 in Estili, Nicaragua volunteering at Funarte! Intercordia is a registered charity. BN# 833547870RR0001
Friday, June 26, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
La Chureca
If you want to know what hell looks like, take a 2.5 hour bus to Managua from Esteli and barter with a bandito, careless taxi driver to La Chureca (the dump.) My wednesday in Managua changed my life. I always knew evil in this world existed but to that degree, never. The weakness of some human beings really baffles me. The ability we have as humans to be so heartless, uncaring, perverted, sick and twisted just breaks my spirit. What reason do we have to be that way? There is no excuse for Daniel Ortega´s actions. He sits there on his high thrown delighted with the rich people of the country riding on the backs of the human recycling factory that is La Chureca. He gives them petty presents of clean water and lunch some days just to keep them grovelling at how wonderful he is to them. They have no education, they do not know their rights as humans, in their minds they deserve this life. Its all they´ve ever known. 400 families live there, in the mounds of garbage. 2000 people a day sift through garbage, spearing what they believe to be worth something. Plastic and metal are among the treasures they desire. The air is simply unbreathable. Smoke and stench toxicate your lungs and burn your eyes. You cough and heave, everyone in La Chureca suffers from respiratory conditions. Fires can start at any time and at any place. Goats, dogs, horses, cows, pigs, vultures and children all compete for the same food source: trash. The childrens bellies are extended, swollen with air from parasites. They have head lice and flees. They sleep on garbage. They sleep ten to one single hut. The girls start prostitution in La Chureca from the age of 5. The truck drivers come each night without fail and pay the girls for their bodies in garbage, not even cordobas (the currency of Nicaragua.)
When our group got out of the cab the children of the dump immediately sensed and saw our gawking faces and asked, ¨Que Paso!¨thoroughly concerned for the disgust in our eyes. ¨Nada, nada¨we quickly had to respond and attempted at a smile. They cannot understand why you look that way, how could they understand when this is the reality they´ve never escaped from. They are normal kids. Mostly not hard done by, laughing jumping, climbing up and down your body and stealing your camera to practice their budding photography skills. The kids were hilarious. The were no different from any other kids except for their living conditions, clothing, food and child labour.
Before we got to the dump we went to a hotel that is owned by an amazing family that includes two sisters, Dorothy and Priscilla. These girls are the strongest women I have ever met. They have had this vision for a new Nicaragua and unlike most people with visions that seem larger than life, they have decided to make it happen. Cuenta Conmiga is the name of their brand new organization. In english this title means Count on Me. Priscilla told our group that 45% of Nicarauga are between the ages of 18-25 with more than half out of work, education and without opportunity. According to these sisters something has to be done. Nicaragua is just being ruined. Its becoming the second Costa Rica where rich Americans come in offering pennies to the people for their land and because the people do not know the worth of the land or have any understanding about realty and economics they are selling the prescious eco havens only to be demolished and turned into casinos or resorts. Cuenta Conmiga is starting small, their goal is to take 12 youth out of the dump and focus all their energy into educating them, teaching them english, mathematics, geography, economics etc. Then when these youth have a firm grasp and foundation they can help with Dorothy and Priscilla´s mission and will go out and teach more so the organization will grow.
The very first thing these two sisters want to do, however, is to save one very special girl in particular. Her name is Fabiola and she is nine years old. Every single night after her day of sifting through garbage her step father rapes and molests her. Her mother is helpless as he will beat her if she does anything. Police do not enter la Chureca. The police of Managua are mostly useless and disgusting human beings. Priscilla and Dorothy have arranged for Fabiola to be taken out of the dump with the signature and consent of her mother and put into an adoption house specialized for sexually abused children. Her mother is going to sign her only little girl away to a new and better life. I got the immense pleasure of meeting Fabiola, she is gorgeous. She does not lift her eyes from her feet. Her hand stays infront of her mouth and her lips do not make a sound. I bent down to her level and asked her if I could give her a hug, she nodded. Then I took her by the hand and brought her with the group to the bathing hole where children can be safe from harms way because an amazing Italian organization guards and protects them there. I spoke to Fabiola a lot, asked her simple questions and told her about myself. Even though I had no response I knew I was getting to her. By the end of it she even looked up at me, that quick glance up at me was an accomplishment I will never forget.
Leaving was horribly difficult. I got so attached to those monkey kids, and boy oh boy were those kids Monkeys!! You´ll all see the pictures of them climbing all over us when I get home.
Leaving little Fabiola was one of the hardest things I´ve had to do. If I could i would keep her with me, always. She shouldnt have to go through what she does. Next week Priscilla and Dorothy are hoping to take her out of there. PLease please keep Fabiola in your prayers so everything goes according to plan and she gets a second chance at a great future with the two amazing sisters!
Thanks for reading these posts guys. Your responses have amazed and humbled me and have really inspired me to continue. Its not always easy being here and sometimes I feel really alone. So thanks for reading and going through some of these experiences with me, it means alot.
XOXO
S
When our group got out of the cab the children of the dump immediately sensed and saw our gawking faces and asked, ¨Que Paso!¨thoroughly concerned for the disgust in our eyes. ¨Nada, nada¨we quickly had to respond and attempted at a smile. They cannot understand why you look that way, how could they understand when this is the reality they´ve never escaped from. They are normal kids. Mostly not hard done by, laughing jumping, climbing up and down your body and stealing your camera to practice their budding photography skills. The kids were hilarious. The were no different from any other kids except for their living conditions, clothing, food and child labour.
Before we got to the dump we went to a hotel that is owned by an amazing family that includes two sisters, Dorothy and Priscilla. These girls are the strongest women I have ever met. They have had this vision for a new Nicaragua and unlike most people with visions that seem larger than life, they have decided to make it happen. Cuenta Conmiga is the name of their brand new organization. In english this title means Count on Me. Priscilla told our group that 45% of Nicarauga are between the ages of 18-25 with more than half out of work, education and without opportunity. According to these sisters something has to be done. Nicaragua is just being ruined. Its becoming the second Costa Rica where rich Americans come in offering pennies to the people for their land and because the people do not know the worth of the land or have any understanding about realty and economics they are selling the prescious eco havens only to be demolished and turned into casinos or resorts. Cuenta Conmiga is starting small, their goal is to take 12 youth out of the dump and focus all their energy into educating them, teaching them english, mathematics, geography, economics etc. Then when these youth have a firm grasp and foundation they can help with Dorothy and Priscilla´s mission and will go out and teach more so the organization will grow.
The very first thing these two sisters want to do, however, is to save one very special girl in particular. Her name is Fabiola and she is nine years old. Every single night after her day of sifting through garbage her step father rapes and molests her. Her mother is helpless as he will beat her if she does anything. Police do not enter la Chureca. The police of Managua are mostly useless and disgusting human beings. Priscilla and Dorothy have arranged for Fabiola to be taken out of the dump with the signature and consent of her mother and put into an adoption house specialized for sexually abused children. Her mother is going to sign her only little girl away to a new and better life. I got the immense pleasure of meeting Fabiola, she is gorgeous. She does not lift her eyes from her feet. Her hand stays infront of her mouth and her lips do not make a sound. I bent down to her level and asked her if I could give her a hug, she nodded. Then I took her by the hand and brought her with the group to the bathing hole where children can be safe from harms way because an amazing Italian organization guards and protects them there. I spoke to Fabiola a lot, asked her simple questions and told her about myself. Even though I had no response I knew I was getting to her. By the end of it she even looked up at me, that quick glance up at me was an accomplishment I will never forget.
Leaving was horribly difficult. I got so attached to those monkey kids, and boy oh boy were those kids Monkeys!! You´ll all see the pictures of them climbing all over us when I get home.
Leaving little Fabiola was one of the hardest things I´ve had to do. If I could i would keep her with me, always. She shouldnt have to go through what she does. Next week Priscilla and Dorothy are hoping to take her out of there. PLease please keep Fabiola in your prayers so everything goes according to plan and she gets a second chance at a great future with the two amazing sisters!
Thanks for reading these posts guys. Your responses have amazed and humbled me and have really inspired me to continue. Its not always easy being here and sometimes I feel really alone. So thanks for reading and going through some of these experiences with me, it means alot.
XOXO
S
Monday, June 15, 2009
Cumpleaños!
I must be brief but I just wanted to thank everyone for the warm birthday wishes and also inclose that I had such a great 20th birthday here in the wonderful Nica. Friday was filled with many cakes, and a night of live music and friends and family. Saturday the girls got up way too early to board a bus Miraflor bound and go to our favourite getaway at Gene and Katharina´s finca. We got a private cabana with a hammock and washroom! And the dogs, kittens, horses, chickens, and cows roamed free. The food and rum were both plentiful and amazing! Especially after our afternoon hike to the Cascada where all four lovely ladies jumped in to reap the glorious benefits of the pure and refreshing water! It is such an amazing feeling to feel cold and have to wear pants and drink fresh peppermint tea from the garden after dinner! We had such a bonding extravaganza. I love my girlies here. Got back Sunday night and had a low key night. Going to La Casita with Marissa in la tardes and then back at work mañana!
xoxo
S
xoxo
S
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Para los Jovenes
Aqui esta tu proteccion contra la violencia
Aqui esta tu espada,
Crees en nuestras vidas,
en el valor de los humanos.
Por nuestro futuro, busca y cultiva,
Si tu tienes que morir,
Pero crece y refuerza.
En silencio van las granadas
Alto a la marcha contra la merte,
Alto con espirity, la guerra es
Desprecio de la vida, la paz es crear.
Da tus fuereas, la muerte va a perder.
Los humanos son nobles.
La tierra es rica.
Si existe miseria y hambre
se debe a la traicion.
Rompe, la justicia va allegar
en nobre de la vida.
Todos van a poseer sol, pan y espiritu.
Estas son nuestras prmesas,
De hermano a hermano.
Queremos estar bien con la tierra.
Queremos cuidar la belleza y el calor de la tierra,
Como llevamos probablemente a un niño.
Rodeado de enemigos entra tu tiempo,
Bajo una sangrienta tormenta,
te consagras por la lucha.
Quizas pregunta con angustia
Desnudo y abierto ¿Con que vas a combatir?
¿Cual es mi arma?
Aqui esta tu espada,
Crees en nuestras vidas,
en el valor de los humanos.
Por nuestro futuro, busca y cultiva,
Si tu tienes que morir,
Pero crece y refuerza.
En silencio van las granadas
Alto a la marcha contra la merte,
Alto con espirity, la guerra es
Desprecio de la vida, la paz es crear.
Da tus fuereas, la muerte va a perder.
Los humanos son nobles.
La tierra es rica.
Si existe miseria y hambre
se debe a la traicion.
Rompe, la justicia va allegar
en nobre de la vida.
Todos van a poseer sol, pan y espiritu.
Estas son nuestras prmesas,
De hermano a hermano.
Queremos estar bien con la tierra.
Queremos cuidar la belleza y el calor de la tierra,
Como llevamos probablemente a un niño.
Rodeado de enemigos entra tu tiempo,
Bajo una sangrienta tormenta,
te consagras por la lucha.
Quizas pregunta con angustia
Desnudo y abierto ¿Con que vas a combatir?
¿Cual es mi arma?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Said
Let me introduce you all to a two year old boy called Said. This boy is the son of the cleaning girl at the house beside where Benny, Marissa and Jessica live. His situation breaks my heart to a million pieces. You see, its a long history of power struggles and hierarchy. The owner of the house does not pay the 22 year old cleaning girl adequate funds so she is really trapped there with no options to leave and find work elsewhere. She lives there and works there and that is her life. However, her son´s life is unbearable. She puts him on a hard chair as soon as he wakes up and forces him to sit there, completely still and without sound for the entire duration of the day, day in day out, that is his existence. He moves, he makes a sound, he gets slapped. Every day his bright eyes lose another spark. It is imperative that two year olds explore, communicate, learn motor skills and develop. To be imprisoned on a chair to the point of intense fear is simply criminal. The only thing this boy has is his thumb. He loves to suck his thumb and yesterday his mother noticed this and put his thumb in hot sauce so that he would cry in agony when he brought it to his lips only to wipe the tears away from his eyes with the same hand and spread the pain all over. Cherry and Jenet that live there in that house are tormented by a helpless feeling for him. They have bought him toys and books only to see them be locked up in the bedroom by his mother. Last weekend they begged her to let them take him out to the park for an hour and she finally permitted it. The experience they described to me was overwhelming. This little boy just stood there for many minutes taking the world outside in, deadly afraid to move a muscle in fear of being slapped. The pictures of his visit to the park are unbelievable. A smile from ear to ear figuring out all that the playground had to offer. But after their short hour of freedom together, he had to go back to his hell on the chair.
It just makes me think of all the men on the streets and how their upbringings must have been like. A boy who is brought up in a family full of love and respect doesn´t feel the need to sit on a street corner and belittle and demoralize girls walking by. It is the little boys like Said, supressed and unloved that need the power high of degrading people to make themselves feel important and worth something. To watch Said, so perfect and loving, morph just a little bit more into a broken spirit kills me because I see his future and it is not bright. Its a cruel cruel cycle this being brought up in a supressed environment because when they do grow up that will be all they´ve ever known.
This is why we have to keep organizations like FUNARTE alive. Everyday the great people of Funarte set out to give that kid a fighting chance at discovery and expression, sometimes its the only chance that kid will ever have. Once a week kids of every demographic taste what it is to be loved and appreciated. They taste what it is like to have wonderful conversations and to feel important and worth something to someone. To go out to the FUNARTE studio in the country and see those kids that have walked some two hours just to get there for the hour of art class is so moving. You can tell they feel safe and at home there. Its their happy place, their escape. I´m so proud to be apart of this organization. So so so proud.
xoxo,
S
It just makes me think of all the men on the streets and how their upbringings must have been like. A boy who is brought up in a family full of love and respect doesn´t feel the need to sit on a street corner and belittle and demoralize girls walking by. It is the little boys like Said, supressed and unloved that need the power high of degrading people to make themselves feel important and worth something. To watch Said, so perfect and loving, morph just a little bit more into a broken spirit kills me because I see his future and it is not bright. Its a cruel cruel cycle this being brought up in a supressed environment because when they do grow up that will be all they´ve ever known.
This is why we have to keep organizations like FUNARTE alive. Everyday the great people of Funarte set out to give that kid a fighting chance at discovery and expression, sometimes its the only chance that kid will ever have. Once a week kids of every demographic taste what it is to be loved and appreciated. They taste what it is like to have wonderful conversations and to feel important and worth something to someone. To go out to the FUNARTE studio in the country and see those kids that have walked some two hours just to get there for the hour of art class is so moving. You can tell they feel safe and at home there. Its their happy place, their escape. I´m so proud to be apart of this organization. So so so proud.
xoxo,
S
Monday, June 8, 2009
Volver
Hola,
So I have arrived back in the arms of my host family safe and sound. It´s quite strange to be back but I´m really glad I am. It was my commitment to be here this summer and I´m really proud of myself for being able to recognize that and come back. It isnt without its struggles though. In Canada I was surrounded by family members who felt the same pain I was and here its really as though I´m carrying this alone. I have to really focus on channeling my energy into being strong for my kids come tomorrow and continuing on my positive experience from where I left off on May 27 when I came back home. It was so great to see my host family again, I genuinely missed them so much. I am realizing how hard it is going to be to say goodbye to them for good. Very strange to think about that too. Yesterday my host mom, Lupe, took the family to El Tisey for a beautiful luncheon in the mountains. Cool and breezy, the typical Nicaraguan stew we all had for lunch tasted extra spectacular. They are so impressed at my keener attitude towards eating whatever they do. I´ve never had a real problem being choosy with food and my host mom thinks this is just the greatest. Ella tiene una amiga quin come los frijoles y los huevos con en la mañana por que los autres (Samaria) no gusta frijoles por desayunar. (English: She has someone to eat beans and eggs with for breakfast as Samaria and the others hate eating beans in the mornings.)
I start back at FUNARTE tomorrow and I can´t wait.
Stay Tuned.
love,
S
So I have arrived back in the arms of my host family safe and sound. It´s quite strange to be back but I´m really glad I am. It was my commitment to be here this summer and I´m really proud of myself for being able to recognize that and come back. It isnt without its struggles though. In Canada I was surrounded by family members who felt the same pain I was and here its really as though I´m carrying this alone. I have to really focus on channeling my energy into being strong for my kids come tomorrow and continuing on my positive experience from where I left off on May 27 when I came back home. It was so great to see my host family again, I genuinely missed them so much. I am realizing how hard it is going to be to say goodbye to them for good. Very strange to think about that too. Yesterday my host mom, Lupe, took the family to El Tisey for a beautiful luncheon in the mountains. Cool and breezy, the typical Nicaraguan stew we all had for lunch tasted extra spectacular. They are so impressed at my keener attitude towards eating whatever they do. I´ve never had a real problem being choosy with food and my host mom thinks this is just the greatest. Ella tiene una amiga quin come los frijoles y los huevos con en la mañana por que los autres (Samaria) no gusta frijoles por desayunar. (English: She has someone to eat beans and eggs with for breakfast as Samaria and the others hate eating beans in the mornings.)
I start back at FUNARTE tomorrow and I can´t wait.
Stay Tuned.
love,
S
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Tragedy
Hello Everyone,
I havent written a new post in a while because, well, I'm not in Nicaragua. I came home last Wednesday and am going back this coming Saturday (very early in the morning.) This trip home was never suppose to happen. My dear cousin, France-Anne Sweeny, had a horrific accident last week on Monday night, May 25. She fell off her horse and was then kicked once in the head and once in her ribs. She was kept alive so that they could donate her organs to later save five children and give back the gift of sight to two others from her corneas. When I found this out via phone call with my dad Tuesday night I was in shock, pure and simple. I could not wrap my head around it and so my body thought it would handle things itself by causing me throwing up fits all through the night. After a trip to the clinic Wednesday morning I got in the car with a Intercordia driver/stranger the 2.5 hours to Managua then boarded a plan to El Salvador then to Toronto. Home felt strange. Culture shock was very present as I drove home with my dad from the airport. I was going through all kind of shock. This past week has probably been the hardest of my life. Going through fits of guilt than of rememberance and then of contentness of seeing familiar faces and friends. France-Anne was more than a cousin to me, she was a sister and a future maid of honour. We had made a pinky promise. She and I were a team and I loved her like an older sister would. Returning to Nicaragua is going to be hard, I knew this from the start. I had to come home though, to have missed that funeral and being there for my aunt, uncle and cousin Christopher, her brother, would have been the biggest regret of my life. Something more powerful than myself got me home from Esteli last Wednesday, and something stronger than myself is going to get me back there. I just thought I should keep you all in the loop and understand why I haven't been keeping up with this blog. Stay tuned, soon there will be more Nicaraguan adventures to come, but in the mean time please keep me and my family in your prayers.
Thanks and as always,
Love,
S
I havent written a new post in a while because, well, I'm not in Nicaragua. I came home last Wednesday and am going back this coming Saturday (very early in the morning.) This trip home was never suppose to happen. My dear cousin, France-Anne Sweeny, had a horrific accident last week on Monday night, May 25. She fell off her horse and was then kicked once in the head and once in her ribs. She was kept alive so that they could donate her organs to later save five children and give back the gift of sight to two others from her corneas. When I found this out via phone call with my dad Tuesday night I was in shock, pure and simple. I could not wrap my head around it and so my body thought it would handle things itself by causing me throwing up fits all through the night. After a trip to the clinic Wednesday morning I got in the car with a Intercordia driver/stranger the 2.5 hours to Managua then boarded a plan to El Salvador then to Toronto. Home felt strange. Culture shock was very present as I drove home with my dad from the airport. I was going through all kind of shock. This past week has probably been the hardest of my life. Going through fits of guilt than of rememberance and then of contentness of seeing familiar faces and friends. France-Anne was more than a cousin to me, she was a sister and a future maid of honour. We had made a pinky promise. She and I were a team and I loved her like an older sister would. Returning to Nicaragua is going to be hard, I knew this from the start. I had to come home though, to have missed that funeral and being there for my aunt, uncle and cousin Christopher, her brother, would have been the biggest regret of my life. Something more powerful than myself got me home from Esteli last Wednesday, and something stronger than myself is going to get me back there. I just thought I should keep you all in the loop and understand why I haven't been keeping up with this blog. Stay tuned, soon there will be more Nicaraguan adventures to come, but in the mean time please keep me and my family in your prayers.
Thanks and as always,
Love,
S
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