Feliz Navidad

My first impression of Nicaragua was unexpected and favorable, unspoiled jungle forests and deep rivers, bucolic green pastures with cows and horses peacefully grazing and plantations of citrus and pineapple.  The food was fresh and simple.  We spent our first night in Nicaragua at Sabalos Lodge perched over the Rio San Juan in a cabin that looked like it was made by the Swiss Family Robinson.  We watched the egrets gather at dusk and turn a tree from green to white.  In the morning we woke to howler monkeys.  We took a boat upriver to El Castillo, toured a 16th century fort, drank hands down the best mocha frappuccino in the world and ate river shrimp that were so large that they would make a Maine lobster feel inadequate.

And then we traveled to Los Chiles where Tessa is stationed.  Los Chiles is at the end of the (chicken) bus line.  Tourists don't visit Los Chiles for good reason.  Gone are the bright houses, the kiosk cafes, the paved streets and green vegetation.  Los Chiles is messy with litter and muddy, gouged dirt roads.  Most of the homes are tired shelters hoping for a wind to topple them down.  Dogs, pigs, roosters and chickens all root among the garbage thrown in the street.  I expect you could say that the chickens are all "free range," but somehow in the context of Los Chiles, I'm not sure this is such a good thing.  Tessa arranged for Mark & me to stay at the nicest of the 3 boarding houses.  Our room had unfinished walls and a rough cement floor; it had no window or decoration save orange mosquito netting and a band-aid stuck on the wall.  A full size bed dressed with a single sheet occupied most of the room and it took no slight choreography for Mark & me and our luggage to all occupy the room at the same time.  The toilet was down the hall and outside and we had to request a key to use it, and obtain a bucket of water from the well to flush it, but it was a toilet, a luxury unique in Los Chiles.  When we were alone in our room, Mark looked at me and said, "I'm thinking of our daughter living here and trying very hard not to cry."

Later Tessa took us on a "conocerlo de Los Chiles," a meeting of the town.  We were stopped every few feet by different people eager to meet Tessa's "padres."  And then Tessa took us to the Casa Materna where she works with the young expectant mothers.  While  Tessa was traveling with us, two mothers had given birth.  The new mothers were so happy to show Tessa their new babies and Tessa delightedly gave each baby a cap she had knitted.  That night I went to sleep in our tiny room serenaded, if you will, by roosters crowing throughout the night (fyi: contrary to popular belief roosters do not just crow at dawn, rather they crow all night long and loudly) and woke to Jose Feliciano's Feliz Navidad blaring.  (Christmas in in full swing throughout Nicaragua and Los Chiles is no exception.)  And it occurred to me that Los Chiles is not unlike the Bethlehem of old, certainly not a vacation spot, but maybe a place where a mother can be safely delivered of her child which, in of itself, is no slight miracle.

Feliz Navidad.