A Final Farewell

Saturday was my final visit to Malacatoya, the village in which I´ve spent the majority of my time here. It was, as most goodbyes are, bittersweet. Jaime, the director of AsoFenix, and I drove from Managua to Malacatoya so he could help me bring my things back down to Managua (a task too burdensome to be done on the busses here). On the way up, of course, Jaime stopped in at least three different places to talk with various people about various projects he´s helping with. While his business can be frustrating when you need his help on certain things, his entreprenurial spirit is truly inspiring.

Upon finally reaching Malacatoya, I was astonished to find that there was a crowd of people outside of the Pulperia (the one "store" in the neighborhood, akin to a convenience store), even a cop with an AK-47 was present. I tried not to dwell too much on the reason, and headed straight into the crowd to make my way into the Pupleria to claim my boots I had left there on my way to Managua last week (to get to my house, it´s a twenty minute hike up muddy trails). It didn´t register until after someone had handed me my boots without ever really acknowledging me, but the crowd was there because of a recent death in the community. No more than an hour before we arrived, the father of one of the men in the community had passed from heart problems. It wasn´t until later that I actually realized the huge faux pa I commited by barging into the home and asking fro my boots while all of this was going on.

While it was a little shocking and tragic, I can´t say it was entirely surprising. I don´t mean to lessen the significance of this man´s death, for I didn´t even know hime, but it seems to be common in developing countries. In my short time in Kenya I knew of at least 4 deaths connected to someone I met there that happened within that month. My time here, though, has only shown me 1 death. I suppose thats something.

Moving on from the morbid, I return to my last afternoon in Malacatoya. As I started my assent up to my house, it started to rain. Of course, it rains at least once a day in Malacatoya, so I wasn´t too upset and was prepared enough to have my rain coat with me. My family was there, minus the Dad, and I had my chance to say so long and thanks for all the beans. I packed my things into my oversized backpack and started down the mud slide of a trail. It´s sad to know I won´t be going back anytime soon, but I learned more from them than I´m sure they know. My foreign country experience has been made that much more real because of the Bravo´s, and for that I thank them.

While I may be done with my time in Malacatoya, I am far from done with my time in Nicaragua. I´ve still got several more villages to visit, a solar water distiller to build, and my final report to finish. All this needs to be done ASAP so I can have some time to venture off into some remote corner of Nicaragua that I will never forget!