My fatherly instincts are running wild as I think of every last possibility, every last mishap, every last thing that might be going on with my nine volunteers in my four communities right now. Mostly, though, I have to say: I feel comfortable with how well [I think] I was able to set up my communities and my volunteers for a good summer, and the main thought going through my head is raw excitement that my volunteers have set off on what will likely be the most unforgettable experiences of their lives. No matter how homesick or awkward or rough these first few days might seem, I have faith that in a few weeks (and definitely in a few years!) they’ll be looking back on these days as the beginning of something much bigger. Well, I feel that, and I also feel jealousy for my volunteers who get to have the true AMIGOS experience of total immersion in an amazing and loving community that will become their new home in only a few short weeks.

In case you couldn’t tell, the vols are off. They came in to the airport in Managua (see pic) on June 28^th, and everybody was in Matagalpa by the 29^th for an intense two days of…BRIEFING! We welcomed the vols with everything from a somewhat sensual Staff Dance—to great meals of beans and rice and nacatamales and beans and rice and chicken and beans and rice and, well, yeah, more beans and rice—to activities on how to hold campamentos with their kids and how to fight diarrhea—to a ridiculous Route Olympics (see pic): each supervisor’s volunteers faced off in battles to the death that included peeling and eating mangoes without using your hands, answering AMIGOS trivia questions, and playing musical chairs. My route, of course, won at the most important event: setting up and taking down their cots as quickly as possible. ¡Viva la Ruta-Rracha Romántica de SETH! (SETH = Super Excelente Talentuoso Homies :) (see pic of our "flag")

Many tears and hugs later, the vols were taken off to their communities by their youth. The combination of adrenaline overdose, paralyzing nervousness, and Spanish/culture-clash-overwhelmingness of leaving briefing for your first AMIGOS community can be rather spectacular.

And so for now, after welcoming the new supervisor who was able to swoop in with perfect timing and take off from me my fifth community, I’m running a few errands in the city while I eagerly (but with a surprising sense of calm, even to myself…) await Tuesday, when I get to be back in my wonderful communities and see for the first time how my vols are doing.

All of this makes me realize, though, that I didn’t do a very good job of painting a general picture of what this place is like in my last post. Here goes:

It’s rainy season (“winter”) in Nicaragua, which means 1) that it will reliable pour a little bit each day, and 2) that we live in a paradise of Eternal Spring: dozens of varieties of flowers—of every color under the sun—burst out at you in all directions from the thick lush growth sprouting up along the misty rolling hills of the countryside. In other words, gorgeous. (See both pics.)

The city of Matagalpa is at the heart of it all, and this town generally strikes a nice balance between bustle and calm. People are almost universally really sweet and helpful everywhere we go, and then there are always the few piropos (cat calls) and shouts of, “¡Ey, chele!” to make things more interesting and exciting. It’s a surprisingly sexually progressive town: we’ve seen public service announcements about condom use, AIDS prevention, and tolerance of homosexuals; and Project Staff is becoming fast friends with the gay rights group in town. There are regularly dance parties of scantily clad women out in front of the Police Station, side-by-side with the cows that occasionally wander the streets munching on grass along the median. And walking around is always a joy, a journey of discovering what new funny contorted building you’ll come across, or what beautifully eclectic jumble of cement and tile and dirt the sidewalk will be made of.

But, it only takes about a thirty-minute bus ride on a colorfully painted bus packed full with 120 people (plus their bags of rice, bags with live pigs, bags of onions and fried papitas snacks that they’re trying to sell to you at the bus stop) to get into the very rural campo. All four of my communities have electricity (which means one light bulb and maybe a little TV in each house) and running water (which means one spigot per house that empties into a big reserve tub for your cooking, your bucket baths, etc), but that’s all new within the last five years. People’s houses are often fairly big compared to what I’ve seen in other AMIGOS communities, having maybe three or four rooms instead of one or two, though beds are usually planks of wood with a sheet on top.

And inside the houses, two things: food and people.

I love the food from Mexico more than anything: everything scooped up with fresh handmade tortillas, and everything burning with the spice of the chil piquitín…mole, tamales, enchiladas, flautas…Panama was much simpler, but also delicious: yucca, rice, fried plantains, grilled plantains, boiled plantains, raw plantains…and here is more simple still. Most meals consist of beans, rice, a tortilla, and the cuajada cheese. It’s generally really fresh and good-tasting, albeit bland as hell. Not that many calories, though: I lost about five pounds my week on survey (but I guess a lot of that was from getting sick).

But people are really what make AMIGOS what it is. The vols who sign up for this program are generally awesome, and the people in these communities who agree instantaneously to house them and feed them and look after them when they’re homesick or sick and be patient when they have no idea how to speak Spanish and teach them about their lives and learn about the USA…they’re generally awesome as well. Those are the people who are taking care of my vols right now, who are giving me so much peace of mind.

All my best to the awesome people in my life back in the States,