Hanging out at Las Salinas Grandes

A long bumpy dirt road leads to Las Salinas, the Sampson family beach house on the Pacific coast south of Leon. Kate has spent week here and Maggie and I caught up with her for a night. It's basic, fronts onto the beach and is a long way from a proper road. There are a few houses up and down the kilometres of beach and a small fishing community. Small boats go out from the beach at night, bringing in the catch early in the morning. The catch is meagre, some small fish and one or two large ones. They don't make a fortune, just enough to feed a family and pay for the petrol for the outboards. We bought fish, no more than 10 Cordobas for a small fish, about 35 US cents.
At night we slept in hammocks, my first experience of this. I suspected it would be profoundly uncomfortable but I slept remarkably well.
Kate and Maggie brought gifts for Pedro and his family. Pedro is the caretaker. Kate has been helping him for some years to buy a plot of land, dig a well and start to build a house. This means that Pedro now has something to pass on to his sons Isaac and Jonathan. In the evening we had a little party with a pinata for the children. This involves hanging up a paper figure with a hollow inside filled with sweets. The children take turns to whack the figure with a stick as it is jerked around on a rope. As it is whacked about, the sweets gradually spill out and the children scramble all over the floor gathering them up.
Behind the house, some 200 metres inland, are the salt works, Las Salinas. In Europe salt works are mechanised, with diggers and tractors to lug the drying salt around. Here men work in the full sun, scooping up the sand from the drying pans with shovels and bare hands into handcarts. It's hot, unremitting labour, but it's work and keeps families.
Swimming from the beach is more about jumping around in the waves. There is a vicious undertow and unless you are a strong swimmer going out beyond the breakers is dangerous. It's a surfer's paradise, however, but so far there are few surf dudes. We walked a long way down the beach and only saw a couple.
Later we are going back to Leon for the last few days in Nicaragua, then it's back to France and the rain. Oh well.

Back to Leon

It has been a lovely week, first in San Marcos, then on Ometepe and finally in Granada, the most stylish of old colonial cities, now being refurbished from the centre outwards. We have met generous hearted people, seen children and young people benefitting from the money funders provide and had a chance to understand the concerns people have as Nicaragua develops.
Some of the most interesting conversations have been with Diego Gene, who runs the Escuela de Mimo y Comedia in Granada. Diego speaks impeccable English, having attended an English language school in his native Venezuela, then having lived in London for several years. He is a convinced Chavez and Ortega supporter, having seen at first hand in both countries the poverty and social misery that existed before they came to power. He accuses the developed world of double standards in their criticism of both leaders (though Chavez is now dead). As he says, some leaders in the west can stand for reelection time and again, but if a Chavez or an Ortega do the same thing, it's called dictatorship. Why the different rules?
And there is no doubt that life has massively improved for the poor in both countries. There are health clinics springing up all over the place, electricity is being run out to more and more rural communities and education means less and less illiteracy.
But as usual there is a cost here which causes even Diego to grumble. Ortega's deal with the catholic church led to a significant diminution in services for women, particularly in the area of pregnancy and childbirth. And although the poor are being lifted out of grinding poverty, the rich and middle classes are certainly also on the rise. The shiny new cars and large, gated houses tell you that. And yesterday I saw a slogan scrawled up on a wall, which said "Menos propaganda, Mas informacion" - Less propaganda, more information.
I will take away a lot of hope with me from my visit, but I am not blind to the terrible problems that still remain. In particular galloping urbanisation is doing nothing for the problems of drug addiction - glue sniffing is a major addiction among street children, as it depresses appetite and leads to temporary oblivion - and prostitution which is virtually the only way street kids can earn money. And as the government cleans up in one place, some of the problems simply migrate to another. La Chureca, the massive rubbish tip outside Managua, may have been covered over and turned into a resource of methane gas, but the families and kids who made a living there are still there, now tucked into concrete boxes but with nothing to do as their living at the tip has disappeared.
Win

some, lose some, same old story. The need for aid is still  present but the recipients of aid are changing and will continue to change over time as the country develops.

Clown Aid

This is a slightly ambitious title because what do I really know about circus in this country? The answer is not much, but what I do know is that it is an important art form here. In my childhood circus meant the annual visit to Bertram Mills big top. I remember the animal acts - lots of horses I seem to recall and of course the lions - and the various high wire acts. But naturally I really liked the clowns. There were two sorts of clown. There was Coco the Clown, dressed in a white satin suit, with a pointy white hat. He wasn't funny. Then there were the slapstick clowns in baggy trousers and jackets, looking a bit like tramps, who often performed with a ladder and buckets of water. I longed for them to appear because they made me laugh.
Ever since then I have related to the word clown in terms of those childhood experiences. But now I am learning about a different kind of clown, much more like the Fool in King Lear. Jung recognised the clown as the Trickster archetype. The modern clown, with the painted face and baggy clothes, sometimes the red nose, is part of this tradition. A clever character, masquerading as a simpleton or as a naif, but always underneath very smart, even scheming.
Diego Gene at the Escuela de Comedia in Granada was inspired to learn clowning at the Knebworth pop festival back in the 70's while he was in England. At the back of the huge field there were a whole gang of clowns and he was was hooked. He's been honing his skills ever since and passing them on to a new generation of young performers here in Nicaragua, where the clown is recognised as a representative of the poor and oppressed, a character who gets the better of the powerful.
So my trip here has really taught me something, that clowning is much more than buckets of water and ladders, though they are a part of the tradition. Clowning is the human response to the unpredictability and cruelty of the world, a response that involves both laughter and sadness, anger and acceptance. But ultimately clowning is subversive, a revolutionary response to human existence. How appropriate that clowning is such an art here, that groups of young people like Performers without Borders come here, to teach and to learn. They do just as much to feed the spirit as the Mayagna Children's fund does to feed the stomach. Both are a vital part of the help all of us can give. So, do send in the clowns please .....

Off the beaten track in Granada

Chris and i had supper with three clowns, a small dog and a tame capybara last night.

Men with Guns

One of the startling aspects of life on the streets in Nicaragua is the proliferation of armed guards outside shops and other commercial premises. The variety of weapons is huge, anything from a holstered pistol to a huge shot gun. I suppose that they are all actually carrying ammunition, but very few of the guards look particularly menacing. In Leon many of them are old men, perhaps veterans of the revolution and the Contra War. Some of them are a lot younger. It does remind you that this country has seen a lot of violence in the past eighty years.
That said Nicaragua feels remarkably calm and peaceful today. Nowhere have we felt threatened and besides making sure money and valuables are kept safe from pickpockets, we take no specific precautions. This is quite different from what I expected to find in a Central American country and that is a very happy surprise. Maggie says that this is in stark contrast with Honduras, which she describes very edgy.

The Bottle House

There is an architectural wonder in store for us today. As part of his commitment to a sustainable environment, Diego Gene has built an entire house out of discarded plastic bottles. I have seen a photo of this before but I am greatly looking forward to seeing this surprising building in the flesh, so to speak. There will be photos and a report here later.

Granada

The centre of Granada is startlingly beautiful, sumptuous old colonial architecture all restored and elegantly painted. The road down to the port area which was a dirt track when kate and i first came here is now a broad boulevarde with cafés and restaurants competing for business, which is lively in the evening. The customers include Nicaraguans as well as foreign tourists. This is a city which would not look out of place in old Europe. Today we are going for lunch with Diego who runs an organisation using theatre and circus arts to help kids from the barrios to focus and build self confidence. The organisation currently feeds lunch to 65 kids who otherwise might not have any, every day. Progress for some means that a lot of people get left behind. A long way behind.