Remembering Grant Gallup

I had never heard (or maybe I had and have forgotten) the late Rev. Grant Gallup was called "Sister Mary Rattlebeads". It is completely appropriate however. Grant Gallup, Episcopal Priest, teacher, humanitarian, gourmet and friend, died after a long illness in his home in Managua, Nicaragua November 26th at age 78.

Grant simply was one of the most incredible people I ever met. When he was ordained a priest, he told the Bishop to "send me where no one else wants to go." That was Grant, the true embodiment of the spirit of Christ's teachings. He loved the poor and the oppressed; marching with Martin Luther King in the South in the 60's, living and working with those embroiled in a revolution in Nicaragua, hiding Nicaraguans who were being pursued and persecuted by a corrupt government, visiting Iraq just before Bush's invasion to support Iraqi Christians in danger, visiting Cuba when it was illegal to do so, being out and proudly gay long before others tested the waters. His parish, St Andrew's in Chicago, was in a tough and poor all African American neighborhood. Some took bets on how long this white boy from the UP of Michigan would last. He stayed 30 years until he took up his final residence in a poor and tough neighborhood in Managua. No matter what trouble someone was in Grant was there to support; comforting families who had just saw a member shot, go to prison, helped those who lost a job or their home and those in need of a meal. He could be a tough love at the same time; if he respected you he demanded your respect in return. Be petty or take advantage of him and you'd be admonished and likely banished quite directly.

Grant read voraciously, his library at Casa Ave Maria, a guest house/ecumenical center founded by him in Managua, was extensive even after a fire ravaged much of it. He loved music, folk dancing, art, young men and certainly charmed the ladies. He set a magnificent table; amusingly the table cloth was a kids' "Hercules" sheet. He simply explained that he liked the cartoon figure of the buff young fellow.

Just a few days before he died on November 26th, I got a message that some friends were going to honor him at a Thanksgiving gathering in Managua. On the 25th, I sent a message to his friend Bayardo and asked him to read it to Grant. This is what I sent:

Dear Grant:

I understand your friends are honoring and giving thanks for your work and presence on this Dia de Gracia.

Querido amigo, I am grateful for all that you taught me about the wonderful country that is Nicaragua; its struggles, its beauty, its people and history. I am richer for the times spent on the patio at Casa Ave Maria listening to you interpret the mural and having the amazing opportunity to meet some of the saints enshrined therein. I give thanks for the bountiful meals and the simple ones as well, shared around your table. One of the best Thanksgiving Days of my life was spent at the Casa, sharing a turkey and all the trimmings with you and Maggie, and Greg Houston and others who had gathered there.

I came to Nicaragua as a curious tourist and reluctant pilgrim in 1999, thinking it would be my one and only trip. Although many others have broken my record, I stand at 15 times since then that I have come to the country I call my home away from home. I was happy that my son Daniel and his new wife got to experience Nicaragua on their honeymoon; they hope to return some day. I got the privilege of introducing the sights and sounds of Nicaragua to my friend Bruce, who also got to meet you at the Casa.

Each time I make rice, I do it as a Nicaraguan lady taught me and revel in its simple beauty and taste and elegance, just like Nicaragua. Thus there is a bit of Nica in my soul now, and much of it is due to you. Thank you, thanks be to God for you.

Amigos para siempre!

Don Clark

Rest in Peace dear friend, and keep rattling those beads.

Grant Gallup at Casa Ave Maria March 2008, my last visit to him:

Say What Presidente?

Oh give me a break! Demonstrations and signs declaring "No Dictatorship" are part of the landscape of much of Nicaragua. The Venezuela oil deal was supposed to give poor Nicaraguans access to less expensive fuel... not happened. Ortega is more hated, per capita than Bush. Even his own friends and colleagues desert him. Yet the now state controlled or at least state intimidated media announce this package of lies and distortions:

After Transparency International ranked Nicaragua as the fifth most corrupt country in Latin America, Nicaragua's Comptroller General Luis Angel Montenegro announced that not one public official has been punished for corruption during the first 18 months of President Daniel Ortega's term.

Montenegro said the lack of sanctions against public officials for corruption reflects an improvement in the way Sandinista government employees conduct themselves compared with past governments. In the first year of ex-President Arnoldo Aleman's government, the comptroller sanctioned more than 150 public officials, Montenegro pointed out.

“This is a government without corruption,” he told state-run TV channel Multinoticias.

Transparency International's 2008 Corruption Perceptions Index, released Sept. 23, paints a different picture. The survey, which indicates the degree of public sector corruption as perceived by business people and country analysts on a scale of 0 (highly corrupt) to 10 (highly clean), gave Nicaragua a score of 2.5 – the worst corruption ranking in Central America. Nicaragua placed 134 out of 180 countries, tied with Pakistan and Ukraine. In Latin America, only Haiti, Venezuela, Ecuador and Paraguay outranked Nicaragua for perceived corruption.

The Ortega administration has been under fire from opposition at home and observers abroad for opaque management of some $520 million in Venezuelan aid.

So, I guess this can be a lesson for the mayor and police of Kansas City.. don't arrest anyone and claim crime is non existent.

A Hospitality Lesson

I have been a little harsh on my dear little country of Nicaragua lately. I always am after a visit. You can see I am conflicted; there is so much to love, so much that is different and fresh, even a lot that is old fashioned. Then there is the corruption, the raping of the country by the left and the right, North Americans, Europeans and fellow Central and South Americans (yes I am speaking of you Hugo). I guess I want to believe it is a paradise, that everything is beautiful, everyone is having a beautiful life, that my friends there are happy.

And many are. One of the staff at the hotel in San Juan del Sur got married to a Spanish lady and went off to Barcelona. "It was hell", he told me. "Big, crazy, noisy, expensive, I came back here." He found there really is no place like home.

My travel partner Bruce was amazed at the place; as a first time visitor, he was taking it all in.

"My GOD!", he exclaimed in Managua one afternoon, "I have not seen that in years!" Bayardo was taking us around town and had stopped to fill his car with gas. "Uniformed gas station attendants, have not seen one of them since I was a kid". Sure enough, every Texaco station has uniformed attendants to pump your gas. Clean, pressed uniforms, worn proudly. Nicas have a pride in their work and in cleanliness, despite the trash that litters the streets. Trash collection can be spotty sometimes. The country has the cleanest dirt in the world, it is not uncommon to see someone sweeping the dirt outside their home, making sure all the leaves and trash are picked up.

Bruce, Hector, Bayardo and I went to a gay nightclub in Managua our last night there. The place was nice, in a good area and looked to be fun. Inside it was not fancy, but had cold beer, good music, a nice dance floor and a good crowd of people for being somewhat early in the evening.

For the non-gay readers, a lesson in gay bars is in order. Here in the US, when a fat old Queen like me enters a gay bar, the crowd looks to see who came in and when noticing I am not a young stud, they turn to back to their drinks and ignore me. That is why I avoid the places like a plague.

At Club Tabu, it was different. People greeted us; "welcome"! "Would you like to dance?" When Bruce, Hector and Bayardo and I began to dance, many joined us, switching partners, cheering us, "great dancer Gringo!" one called to me as I showed that I can still move. I felt more at home there than I ever had a bar here.

You see, hospitality and community are still prevalent. Nicaragua is still a front porch society, people gather in the streets, sidewalks and porches to talk, watch a communal TV, play and eat. Even in sprawling, crazy Managua, you can go to the corner Pulperia and get all the neighborhood news and just about any item you want. A stranger is not a threat, but someone to welcome.

One of my favorite treats in Nicaragua is the weekend Nacatamale. A huge cornmeal tamale stuffed with spiced pork, rice, potato, raisins, and sometimes olives and wrapped and steamed in a banana leaf. I bought two from Angelita and took them back to the hotel Bruce and I were staying in Managua. I asked the young lady in the hotel if I could get two forks as a friend had made us Nacatamales. She got us a couple and I was happy to eat my treat in its leaf.

No, not to be in my hotel, the young lady thought. Soon plates, napkins, coffee and juice appeared. She could not bear her guests to eat like common folk, we were guests for Christ's sake.

Try getting service like that in a $60/night hotel in the states. Or having a Texaco pump your gas for you.

Maybe we are missing something after all.

A Beautiful Life? part 2

It was a typical evening at Nacascolo Bay just outside San Juan del Sur Nicaragua in late February. April and her son, mother and 4 employees were closing up their restaurant for the evening. For April, the restaurant and garden hotel was a wonderful investment, quiet, scenic, away from the hustle of the town but blessed with a breathtaking view of the bay and the ocean beyond.

Eight armed assailants quietly entered the compound, knocked out the guard on duty at the hotel, entered the restaurant and changed April and her family's life forever.

Taking everyone captive, including the family dog, the gunmen drank the restaurants supply of liquor, ate and then terrorized the captive family and employees. One of the guards was beaten severely, the other and his wife kept silent that their two young children were sleeping in their apartment in the compound. April had her throat wounded by a knife, she watched as the gunmen held a gun to the head of her 14 year old son, they stood helpless as the beaten guard bled and became unconscious.

Early on the morning of February 25th, the armed men forced everyone into a hotel vehicle where they took them 30 kilometers away to the municipality of Potosí near Rivas and parked in front of a sugar cane field. They thought it was over. But luck finally smiled and a police car noticed the activity and investigated, the kidnappers fled into the dark cane fields.

Sadly, for April the biggest nightmare was yet to come. The kidnapped family and employees then went to the Rivas hospital and one of the guards reported the incident to the police.

The police could care less.

The police did not even search for those responsible. April gets visibly angry when she recalls finding an identification card of one of the kidnappers that had been dropped in the hotel. The police have not even arrested this man.

The Rivas police said that they were very busy with their Semana Santa Coverage Plan (Holy Week, the week before Easter is basically a national holiday in Nicaragua) but a quick glance at the calendar will show Holy Week was then three full weeks away, so they were not able to get to this case fully, but now that it is over they are going to search for the criminals with full force and put them behind bars.

Yeah right.

Too late for April, she is leaving. She hates the place, hates her hotel, wishes she had never set foot there. The place is for sale, but she is not abandoning it, she is selling on her terms, she will leave when she is ready. The restaurant re opened for a bit, but she and her family will be traveling a bit in the meanwhile. Anywhere but home.

The police know who did it, they are scared to do anything about it. They don't even act like they care. The other rich gringos in the area tell her to get over it and keep quiet, you are scaring away the investors. The look of sadness and betrayal in her eyes at that statement speaks volumes.

"Nicaragua is a fucked up country and it seems to enjoy being so", said my friend Grant in Managua. He should know, he has lived there for 20 some years. Corruption is rampant, the government inept, Daniel Ortega has degenerated in to as shameful a raper of the country as Aleman and Somoza.

Beyond the palms and sunsets, sweet smooth rum and delectable fish lies a more violent, corrupt Nicaragua. It doesn't scare me away, but saddens me that again the country is sliding into the morass of corruption and a divided society,one with everything and one with nothing.

I am confident April will find her beautiful life... sadly it will not be in Nicaragua.

Home Sweet Home

Yeah, it is a cliche .... but it is so damn true.

I am finally home after a leisurely trip to Nicaragua. I was so lazy, I didn't even blog much. I have the rest of April's story to tell, nightlife in Managua, a KC Symphony concert to review from this PM, plenty to keep me busy.

But getting home is what is on my mind now. Air travel is nothing but a nightmare anymore. If I was rich, I would spend my fortune on chartered jets just to avoid the hassle. Once a grand adventure and even pleasant in coach class, air travel now is designed for no other reason to torture the passengers.

Service sucks.
Planes are cramped.
Nothing is on time.
No one explains or talks to you when there is a problem.
Airports are huge obstacle courses designed to confuse and exhaust.
Prices are up up up.
You are assumed to be a terrorist or a smuggler until proven otherwise.... this time.
Passengers have no qualms about making their flight more comfortable, at your expense.

Yeah, you can tell it was a rough ride up. Starting with the now expensive taxi ride to the airport in Managua (used to be $5-7 now up to $15 plus tip, gas is out of sight there) the voyage home was a challenge from the very start. The flight was overbooked and the line was long. It seems some people, despite being far from home, do not travel much and never read the rules. Bags over size, over weight, surfboards, paper flowers.... liquids, whatever... all argued about with the harried ground staff.

Hearing "overbooked" put me immediately in the panic mode. I wanted to go home, it was time. When I am on my way home, get outta the way. I morph into a homing pigeon and neither rain, snow or surly airlines will get in my way. I thought we were ok, until they began to ask again for volunteers even after we were seated. Some did, and thus the exodus of old and arrival of new passengers began. Bags put on, bags removed, new ones in their place. Took over an hour. Finally in the air, and homeward bound, seat secure, I felt a bit more at ease.

Nicaragua is still very poor, thus it is a prime destination for church groups to meddle and do some feel good projects. But since the country has become more of a tourist destination, infrastructure is better and become relatively safe, the church groups are no longer composed of just the adventurous and hardy, but chock full of kids. A whole damn herd of them were in front of me, giggling, bouncing, singing, taking pictures like they were on a damn field trip bus to the rival town football game. The 74th time the brat flashed her camera flash in my face, I bellowed for her to please refrain from the activity. From her look, you would of thought I told her to fuck herself... but she got the message.

All was tolerable aboard our Boeing made flying prison, until we got close to Atlanta. Rain, delays, holding pattern... but not to worry...yet.. we had a 3 1/2 hr layover. Finally landing, we sat on the tarmac and waited, our gate given away since we appeared to not want it.

Time slipped by and I was beginning to get anxious. This homing pigeon was not too thrilled about roosting as a guest in someone else's porch that night. We got in and thankfully immigration was not too bad, officially back in the USA, safe and sound thanks to the TSA, INS and our government's best at work.

Baggage claim was a war zone. We waited almost 45 min for the bags to arrive, no one telling us what the problem was. Passengers, formally just stupid, became unglued. Bags in hand I then rushed through customs, thankfully not asking me about anything I bought. I always bring back too much liquor and despite my nervous face, they always let me pass.

If baggage claim was a war zone, then baggage recheck was Hiroshima. People screaming, crying, what is happening??? No one telling anyone any reason for the mess, just barking orders. Chaos rained. I did as instructed by the pushy, surly and I am sure as frustrated as I was baggage fellow and pushed my red bag into the sea of luggage, waving it a forlorn good bye as if a loved one was going off to war, not sure if I would ever see it again or in the same shape. So long, brave son.

The 3 1/2 hour layover was all but consumed by the whirlwind of anxiety and thus we got from terminal E to terminal B with only moments to spare. I was exhausted, sweaty; adrenalin pumping, I was sure not to relax on the flight or even sleep when I got home.

BUT DAMN IT I WAS HEADING HOME.

Luck was no lady tonight, she was a roaring bitch. The man sitting next to me was all happy and chatty, a sure annoyance for me as I was not in the mood to hear see, smell or communicate in any way with another human being. Period, paragraph.

"40 to 19". He told all in earshot and me as well, showing me a screen on an hand held communication device that had print and buttons too small for me to see. I assumed it to be a sports score but the unusual spread confused me.

"What is that, a football score?"

"Silly!! (but his face read "oh my God") KU and North Carolina..the Final Four, my son is sending me updates on my Blackberry."

He was all but sure I was from another planet or worse just released from Solitary at Sing Sing. Explaining I had been out of the US for a bit did some to help allay his fears about my planetary residence or my parole status. Deciding I was safe, he began to yap but thankfully he could not negotiate his digital camera and show me his pictures from New York, otherwise I would be heading to the Pen.

The flight to KC was the only one on time and actually halfway pleasant. The passengers were thrilled to hear that KU won, I was thrilled to know I was home.

Of course our bags were not there so we had to make a claim for them. B had both of his delayed so he had no keys to his car or to his house. His condo door man would let him in so he was spared the ignominy of having to stay at a hotel so close to being home.

Throughout the whole ordeal, I could count on the loyalty and reliability of two of my greatest treasures; the Queen Mary started right up and took us home in style and Puggles, upon seeing me, wagged her little pug butt so hard that the energy powered a city block.

Home Sweet Home.

A Beautiful Life? Part 1

It is a typical Tuesday, here at the bar "La Cascada" at Pelican Eyes in San Juan del Sur. As I sip a Nica Libre (Flor di Cana rum, coke and a lime), Juan Carlos is opening a huge jar of cherries with an outsized knife. A "Bahama Mamma (virgin)" is in the works. Natalie and I quip that there are no virgin mammas in the Bahamas for damn sure. The joke goes over his head....but Durley understands and shares in our giggles.

A languid humidity settles over us all, the sun beats mercilessly, the AM clouds chased away on the brisk east wind. The sea sparkles. It is still the dry season and the surrounding hills are brown and tinder dry. A few sprinkles of green belie the fact that in fact this has been a rainy dry season.

Almost 3PM, all I have done is eat, go to the post office, swim, eat, drink and now sit at the bar and drink and play on the computer. It is "A Beautiful Life" as the eponymous song on the muzak reminds me.

Or is it?

Yet below.... corruption, poverty, lack of infrastructure, violence, is rampant. Just ask April, whose story I will tell soon. She is getting out of here as fast as she can....she has the resources to do so. That was not the plan when she came to this "paradise", now for her and her family a living hell.

A story I may be sorry for telling. It is not popular. It disturbs the money class here. But it is worth the risk... stay tuned.

An Exercise in Slothicity

Greetings from Nicaragua. Been a few days since the last post. Wish I could say I have been busy with all things exciting and new, but really mostly eat, swim, drink and relax.

That is good medicine actually. In the fast paced world of hurry up and wait, get there before anyone else, run them down and don't look back, this is heaven. No agenda, no time table, no need to run all over and see everything. No deadline.

This suits Bruce as well.

Yet behind it all, there are dark clouds. The place is getting expensive, just like at home, energy costs are driving prices up and up. And like home, the rich get richer, the poor get poorer.

Nicaragua has made little advance at infrastucture as well, the roads are a mess, the power flickers.... the casual visitors notice little, but the experienced know better.

Some even darker clouds are on the horizon, and some are here now. Of this I will write later. For now, my head in the sand, I relish the breeze, the rum and the smiles of those I think I know.

San Juan del Sur...Birthday Girl

Well, back again in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. I have lost track how many times I have been here, but each time gets better in some ways. However, I still long for that time when it was new, unspoiled, unknown. My own private world, simple... cheap...fun...cheap. Progress brings benefits yet spoils the innocence. Undoubtedly, it has brought some prosperity to this impoverished land. Jobs, infrastucture, investment and opportunity.

But the money is still in the hands of the North (many want to blame the US, but Canada and Europe have a huge presence among the land owners and profiteers.) and a few rich Nicas. There is little inbetween, you either work for peanuts, or you have it all.

But I am still enchanted by the charm of these people who smile and seem to be more relaxed and open than us in the colder world.

Last night, I went to a party for a lady I know who lives down here, it was a surprise party for her. As a lesbian, she has found a refuge from the repressions of the world and makes a good living as a fine chef. Someone shouted, "a photo of all the gay people here!!..in Spanish and English. Only a few stayed out of the huge photo. Not all were gay, but they did not care. Community, fun, brother and sisterhood and celebration of friends and life, that is what counted.

What a place.

Random Notes

1) Bush started his illegal, immoral and deceitful Iraq war 5 years ago Wednesday. I remember where I was at. We had just cozied in the bar at the idyllic Hotel Paraiso in Omotepe, Nicaragua when the satellite TV on CNN international broke the news. The Nicas looked at us with disgust but said nothing. I was disgusted as well. 5 years later I still am, at everyone who supports this nonsense and those who do not a damn thing to stop it.

2) Fittingly, on the first day of spring, the last of the big pile of snow on the church parking lot next door melted away. May we see no more until winter.

3)Obama's "race speach"... left me cold. He goes to a church with a racist minister. If this were a white candidate, it would be a war. He thinks it is all ok now. I am as liberal as they come, but racism is racism. Coming together, not dividing is the key to getting this country back on track again. I am still not sure who I will support in the November election. I do not think I will vote Republican.. but Communist or Mickey Mouse look like viable alternatives. Rumor has it Puggles is contemplating a run for office...

4) I am heading off to Nicaragua for 2 weeks for fun and sun and a vacation away from all the mess here. This might be the last Puggingham Palace until I get there on Monday. If so.. see you on the flip side!

The Eric Volz Saga Continues

Typical of the screwed up, banana republic mentality of Nicaragua, an appeals court in Granada has overturned Eric Volz's murder conviction. Unfortunately he remains illegally detained because of the passive agressive arrogance of judge who, due to fear and stupidity, convicted him in the first place.

This past Monday the court ruled 2-1 in favor of Eric's appeal, throwing out his murder conviction and ordering his immediate release from prison. However, when his attorney went to the convicting judge, Ivette Toruno, at the appointed time, he was told that Toruno had not signed the release papers and that Toruno had left earlier and was not expected to return until today. He was probably told "manana" which in Nica time means "not now".

I was in San Juan del Sur Tuesday November 21, 2006 when the murder occurred. Eric was not mentioned as a suspect. No one had seen him around. The murder scene was chaos; I know I saw it about an hour after the body was found. Eric was framed, the court ruling a sham of justice. Now the newspapers are demanding "people's justice". I shake my head in disgust.

So Eric sits in prison, the US Embassy does nothing, the rich gringos who were his friends sit and drink and Nicaragua slowly goes back to being a cold, hostile place.

I am supposed to go back this March in what will likely be our last dental trip. Sadly, I can see it being my last trip ever. I just don't feel welcome there anymore.

Keep track of Eric's ordeal at Friends of Eric Volz

An Open Letter to Daniel Ortega, President of Nicaragua

Dear President Ortega:

Greetings from the USA, from someone who feels your country is one of the most beautiful on Earth, from someone who loves the stories and songs of your land, from someone who has taken his own time and money to come to your country not just to play and drink but to work side by side with your people on many occasions, from someone who loved to hear the stories from those who marched into Managua in July, 1979 (I still mark the Dia de la Revolucion in my calendar), from a "Gringo Pinolero".

Presidente, of all the world's sins, the one I hate the most is hypocrisy. If you have been a faithful reader of my ramblings, I am sure you have noticed that from time to time. Sadly, Dear Presidente, you have become one too.

Daniel, what are you thinking??

* Elected through a rigged, manipulated election. Come on, you know it is true, you have no mandate, and what really happened to Herty?

* Governing only through a vile and cynical pact with your opposition who raped and pillaged the country and you let go unpunished. After your term, will you let Aleman back to power? Is that part of the deal? To hell with the Revolucion and Sandismo? Is is all about you?

* Allied with Chavez in Venezuela, who is rapidly becoming dictator for life, while nothing good comes to his people. Is that your plan?

* Allied with the crazy man from Iran Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who, Daniel, if you really look would kill your now devout Catholic ass in New York minute, you know.

* Slam the US and Allies in the UN with lines like "US leaders continued to dictate what was right or wrong "as if they were God", while poor countries were still afflicted by "oppression and violence and terror". Who is afflicting the countries with violence and terror? What are you doing to stop oppression of the poor, women and sick in Nicaragua Daniel? Jetting off to Tehran is not helping anyone. Where is all this promised money anyway? I have been hearing for 3 years now that Venezuela is building a new road to the coast. Last time I was there, it was still a dirt track.

I know, Daniel, that the US and the Europe are not without sin. But look at yourself sir. Are you not about empire, power and alliances, and feeling you are right and everyone who thinks different is wrong as well?? Are not your friends Mahmoud and Hugo using money and threats to get what they want? Is it all not the same, no matter which side of the fence you are on?

And when the Hurricane struck, who was first there? US based relief efforts. They didn't ask if the victims were left or right, Sandinista or PLC.

Daniel, what I want is to come to Nicaragua in March 2008 as I always do and see people with work. Healthcare for the poor, roads being built. Promised projects finished. A Justice system that works, I want to see Eric Volz free. See Union Frenosa out. Gringos and Nicas working together for the betterment of the people.

I had hopes, Senor Presidente, that you would come true to your promises, a country run on good solid principles of people power, solid investment leading to good jobs, healthcare a priority, raising the standard of living, ending corruption that drains your economy. Instead, we get ranting, raving and more corruption.

And still the Nicaraguan people pray for a better life and a leader that will make it happen.

Many pray that they will not die of disease and starvation today.

Who caused that? Not I, no one but Nicaraguan politicians who from Somosa on have raped and pillaged this lovely land of gentle people.

Be a new Sandino for them Daniel. Would not that be better than all the gold and riches from Cesar and Mahmoud?

Make me proud to say I am your friend.

Sincerely,

Don Clark

FIRE!

Not here, but in the home of my dear friend (friend is an inadequate word) Greg's villa in San Juan del Sur Nicaragua. My friends Dan and Cesar were living in part of the house long term. Thankfully no one, not even Dan and Cesar's cat, was seriously injured.

Dan and Cesar have some incredible pictures here on their site www.Dancesar.com

Greg is taking it quite calmly, and I just found out about it this evening while reading some Nicaragua blogs and forums. I called him before I knew it was his house. "What's this about a fire at Pelican Eyes??" I asked... "Oh shit..." as it hit me as I read the web forum that it was at his house.

Fully insured and I hope that it will be all done by the time I go there this Thanksgiving.

Ben Linder 1959-1987

Benjamin Linder was a young US engineer killed in an ambush on April 28, 1987 In El Cua, Nicaragua during the height of the Contra War. He and two Nicaraguans were cold bloodedly murdered by a group of CIA-funded Contras while working on a small hydroelectric dam that was to bring electricity and water to the village. Linder's death made front-page headlines around the world and polarized opinion in the United States.

Linder's murder and the revelations of more brutality led to softening of support in the U.S. for the covert war in Nicaragua. Congress prohibited any military aid to the Contras, but Ronald Reagan and his henchman Oliver North found a way to subvert that and led to the Iran-Contra scandal that should have defeated Reagan but to amazement, never did.

Linder, an engineer by training and a clown/juggler by hobby, was inspired by Nicaragua's Sandinista revolution. He came during the middle of the Contra war to support efforts to improve the lives of the country's poorest people. Many of us do that today. It was common for the Contras, who were of course against the Sandinistas, to attack projects aimed to help the poor, so as to weaken the people's support of the Revolution. Linder, simply was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Incredibly, his death was brushed off by the leading Republicans (there you go again, assholes) of the administration. One senator told Linder's mother that "she was using her son's death to politicize the situation and told her "I don't want to be tough on you, but I really feel you have asked for it". The official spokesperson for the White House said basically the same thing.

Linder's take on it: "It's a wonderful feeling to work in a country where the government's first concern is for its people, for all of its people. "

The singer Sting wrote a song in honor of Ben Linder in 1987 called "Fragile". A Ben Linder House in Managua carries on his work.

Rest in Peace Ben Linder. Know that some of your work goes on.

Nicaragua Trip, a Summary

We had a successful trip to Nicaragua with the 2007 UMKC Dental Delegation. As usual, Dan and Cesar have documented it well. Check out the UMKC Dental Delegation link on their website.

Lots of patients seen, some pain relieved, contacts made, and more important, the Generation Y students saw how most of the world lives. No iPods, no internet, no fancy new cars, no Big Macs and no health care. The Generation of privilege and me first came face to face with reality. It did them good.

Thus exposed to the world, some came home appreciating the things they have. Some came home wanting more. But most came home to Gringolandia, where the dogma of "Me First" and "Success at Any Cost" enslaves us to lousy jobs and companies that treat humans as disposable liabilities, with their eyes opened and hearts melted. I think of this group, some will come back. Despite the beans and rice, the bugs, the dirt, the heat, the hard work. There are still teeth to fix, frisbees to be thrown, Victoria will brew some more beer to drink (they drank most of it), and kids to delight with our antics.

Next year looks good.

Simple Gifts

Santa Rita, Nicaragua March 22

I have never considered myself exceptionally generous. The concept of "giving is better than receiving" rang hollow to my ears. Easy for YOU to say, but I like getting. Getting it takes care of that urgent need of wanting it.

Actually, I have given people gifts, nice ones, but hardly extravagant ones. So I am not a total ass. But it took a small gift that went a long way to remind me that truly giving is a pleasure and does not need to be something huge and expensivve.

2 plastic frisbees and 2 simple plastic jump ropes. That was it. But to the kids of the school here in Santa Rita, you would have thought I gave them the ownership of Microsoft. Their faces lit with joy, jumping and screaming all at once as school kids are want to do. PLATIO! PLATIO!! the boys screamed as the teacher flung the frisbee into the yard they shared with pigs, horses, sick dogs and our clinic. The girls gathered around the ropes and jumped giggled and tripped with joy over the pink and yellow plastic rope. The air throbbed with the sounds of children and was thick with wild flung platios. When we were done, the guys in the group joined in, contributing some baseballs and a couple of more platios. For about 20 minutes, poverty, sickness, language and culture barriers broke under the weight of the joyous games.

What a gift I had given.

Lonely

Not to sound all pathetic and such... but it is lonely here. I hate this time, it happens once a year, maybe twice and it just rips me to shreds.

I am leaving for Nicaragua Monday AM early,way before the chickens get up. Unfortunately, that meant that Her Glorious Majesty Puggles, QOP, SRA, ETC., had to leave for the Eastern Palace on Saturday. Also known as Jackson County Animal Hospital, they have been her vet and boarder forever. Not the most luxurious of accommodations, but clean, inexpensive and secure. Besides, she is loved there and she seems happy. She'll get her shots and check up while there, get a manicure and a bath. Sort of a Pug-med vacation.

But the hours spent here with no Pug to follow me around, to bark at me when I eat, wanting to go out and snuggling next to me at night are hellish. I go in to the living room, expecting her on her throne and it is empty. The throne got a good cleaning and vacuuming and her walruses stand ready to greet her upon return.

Amazing how dogs get in to your soul, become so indispensable to the fabric of our lives. Puggles took over my life for sure, made it her own. Dogs are just so much more comforting and loyal than humans. Sure they may shed and pee on your rug, but they never stab you in the back. That means a lot.

See you in a couple weeks sweetie. Have fun!

Off To Nica

I am off to Nicaragua again for two weeks, leave Monday AM. I so enjoy this trip. I feel alive, like I am doing something for humanity and showing the world that the USA is not all George Bush and Republican me-first-ism. I personally do not save lives as I have no medical skills. But as the dentists and the dental students work, I make sure their instruments are sterile, thus making sure they do not hurt any one. Maybe in a small way, I do save a life.

Spending a week in Mulukuku is like going back in time. They have electricity now, and communication is easier. It used to be that a week in Mulukuku was total isolation, no news, no papers, if the world ended, we'd be among the last to know. Now that the road is better paved cars and trucks bring papers and news, on the same day! Last year, Enitel had even installed a pay phone. It was not connected, but held promise.

Electricity brought the world to Mulukuku; an enterprising soul set up a dish and created his own cable network. TVs sprouted up, those affording one shared it on the front porch with everyone else. As a devoted non TV watcher (despite owning one and all the 200 channels of cable), it was wonderful not seeing the damn "big glass tit", as my friend Shaun calls it, blaring from the houses.

We take the students down to San Juan del Sur for some sun and fun. I am apprehensive about going there as events of late have soured me on the place. It is lovely, and a great place to rest. I miss the SJdS of the past.

Change does not come easy for me, as you can see. Mostly since most change in my life has usually been for the worse. But it is inevitable, and so is my bitching about it.

This is my last post for a bit, I'll try to get in a post or two from SJdS from the new laptop I am taking down for them. We are frequently mules to carry things from here to there, and this trip is no exception.

At least this time I am not carrying 20 pairs of ladies' shoes and hundreds of loose condoms.

Damn Eclipse...

Astrologer Chin Jip Seng from Malaysia said that Saturday's lunar eclipse was not a good sign because the Earth was covering most of the Sun, the source of light.

"It will be very bad for the first half of the year. There will be bad times ahead. We have to hope and pray."

Well, he is right. Let's just say yesterday was horrible for me. Rotten to the core. I won't elaborate, this is not a pity party blog. First of all, if anyone gives a fat rat's ass, I am ok, a little bruised more mentally and emotionally than physically, but ok. Just a lot of bad decisions and inactions blew up in my face yesterday. It will take some time and more money than I have to correct. But I hope it will be soon. But I have so little faith in people and in systems that I am sure I will be screwed.

Not as screwed as the injustice that goes on for Eric Volz in Nicaragua, read this article here and be sure to visit the site his family set up and send a message. Or think of others who are facing injustice and brutality by authority here in the US, like David Stagg or my friends M, K and S who should probably remain anon.

My issues are minor compared to them, a mere inconvenience and headache and sleepless night. But still real to me and still a part of the fact that the world here is nasty, friends are few (thankfully I had one that has been a great help so far) and injustice and meanness prevail.

Damn eclipse...

Eric Volz and sham Justice in Nicaragua

I rarely post twice in one day but this is special, and devastatingly sad.

I once loved a country, a poor one in Central America. I went there for the first time in 1999 and just realized I was somewhere special, somewhere I belonged. I would have had even stronger ties there, but a series of events ended that dream. I may be thankful now.

Those of you who know me know I am referring to Nicaragua. But a tragic event has put a chill in the relationship. The love affair has ended, it seems to be mutual. I could see it coming, yet I hoped for the best.

Read this Friends of Eric Volz

And this Guilty Verdict

Sadly, Nicaragua has become a politicized, dangerous place. She is now governed by Daniel Ortega, the hypocrite who manipulated the election and entered into a pact with the imprisoned (sort of) former leader, Arnoldo Aleman, to gain his power again after being in the wilderness of the opposition for years. He longs to rule along side his buddy Hugo Chavez of Venezuela as a "people's leader", throwing a a few crumbs at them while gaining power and establishing a dictatorship. He has politicized the country.

God forbid something like what happened to Eric occurred in the US. The poor Nicaraguan would be a victim of discrimination and would be set free. If a sham trial for a Hispanic would happen here, the hue and cry would be deafening. But for a gringo in Nicaragua it is different. Eric was not exploiting people, he was publishing a magazine. He happened to date this Nicaraguan lady, who was sadly and brutally murdered. He is a victim, a political prisoner. Reports from the trial indicate that the evidence was not even considered.

I was there on November 21, 2006 when the murder occurred. Eric was not in town I was told. He has evidence he was in Managua. Ortega and his cronies are stirring resentment among the people to bolster their power. They want blood. They are not getting mine.

I am leaving for Nicaragua in almost exactly a month. It is very likely my last time. I do not want to go to lovely San Juan del Sur where I have friends, both Nica and Gringo. It is a scary place. I do not believe in staying where I am not welcome. I am afraid, and maybe to blame, as I am one of the gringos who invaded.

Check out Eric's website, write your congressman, write the Nicaraguan embassy.

Pray for justice.

Nobody Wins

It has been a bad couple of days. First the Dr crap yesterday and now a sinking feeling that I am losing things dear to me.

Some friends of mine, a gay couple are in crisis. I can't help at all and it is frustrating. Sadly, good news and a chance at a dream job for one is tearing them apart. M is younger and an up and coming professional in his field. He has been offered and has accepted a position out west. Big money, promotion opportunity, more responsibility; the things young, ambitious men want.

S, on the other hand is older, loves his house and junk, looking to retire, has a secure job with wonderful benefits here. He is loathe to move. But then, as he put it, men like M do not come along every day. Don't I know it. No matter what the decision, it will be a lose-lose all around. M is going, no question. The question is if or when S goes. He is wavering and the issue has exposed some weaknesses in their relationship, as all have. Selfishly, I would love them to stay. I'll be lost without S even more, he is the brains behind keeping the Queen Mary afloat.

It hurts to watch both of them strained and stressed. S cried on my shoulder over the phone over an hour last week. I think they will both go eventually. But no one will be happy.

Again, I guess it is consolation to be single; Puggles goes with me, no questions asked. And she has few ambitious plans besides a place to nap and a treat or two.

The other is my dear Nicaragua. I see it getting ugly and dangerous. This article gives a good idea what transpired. I was there when this happened, I heard first hand about the mob, I stayed up on the hill, out of town. I may not go back to San Juan, and any thoughts of living there are gone.

Gringo Justice

Jamaica is like this, I am told. You go to the resorts and stay there under lock and guard. Venture out and the racism and hatred of the Jamaicans is real. Gays are murdered for sport. Nicaragua has always been a bit different. The people open, friendly, but not real demonstrative or emotional. I relished my interactions with them, I made friends with many. But now, I wonder if I should fear them?

I guess it was inevitable. The mix of rich and dirt poor is a volatile one. Gringos with money (that includes US, Canadian and European) have came in and bought land, started businesses, developed property. Some mix with the people, some do not. With the rise of Daniel Ortega and his connections with Chavez and Castro, I can only assume his anti-gringo rhetoric will increase, despite his protests to the contrary. He will do what it takes to please his master Chavez. The Sandinista mayor Sr. Eduardo Holmann, quoted in the article, has developed his own housing development and property for the gringos and ricos. His power rests on the gringo presence.

It is so complicated in Nicaragua, because "La mentira es la Vida" (The Lie is the Life). One lies, in more of a sin of omission, to survive the poverty and the oppression of the corruption. Nicas will often tell you what you want to hear so as not to offend or disappoint. The will not reveal their true feelings to you so as to keep you as a friend when needed, and an enemy when advantageous. I am suspicious now, is this the real feelings of the locals? I do not know, a mistrust has developed. I asked a Nica, my favorite bartender Arturo if he resented all the gringo invasion. "No, mas trabajo", (no, more jobs) he said quickly, otherwise he'd have nothing. What does he really think?

I watch the outcome of this with interest and trepidation. I know Eric slightly, and I understand he was in Managua when the murder occurred. But for some reason, the Nicas want his scalp. Injustice is ugly no matter where. There is no excuse for it, but to send a message. Be careful of what you ask for, you may get it.