simplicity

1.9.07
I’ve only written one entry and already I feel like keeping a blog is going to be a challenge. There is so much I want to say. And I feel like there is so much you want to know. How is Nicaragua? What is it like? What is the political situation? How do I live? What is my community like? I’m not sure where to start with all these questions. I think I’m still trying to answer them for myself. But everyday I become more aware that this experience is about a lot more than me…

What is it about?

Its about the guy that hangs outside our house every night around 7ish, across the street, trying to watch us eat dinner. Men hang out on the streets drinking every night (and morning for that matter). And the fellow across the street has given us no reason to believe he is dangerous in any way. I hear my Dad saying “Marg, this is like the beginning of a Stephan King novel!” But I also think of Home Alone (movie) when the kids are so afraid of the guy with the shovel, who really just protects them in the end. I’ll let you know how the story turns out…

It’s about “simple living”… last week Mary and Josh (community mates) went to the campo (countryside) to spend time with a family. THEY (people in the campo) know what it means to live simply. See Mary’s blog for reflections on that (link on right). Mary came back saying “You should see how these people live! We don’t live simply at all!” This is true. Maybe we live simply by standards that I was used to in the States. Today I washed a Ziploc bag… they are re-usable after all. But many people here don’t use Zip Loc bags at all. We don’t use paper towels in this house. We just use washcloths that we wash each week. Not a big deal, just a difference.

While Mary and Josh were in the campo, James, Adriana and I guarded the house. James and I spent most of our time rocking in our sweet rocking chairs, reading books, and playing Sudoku. I simply enjoyed his company, thoughts, reflections, debates, all. Last week, simple living for me was eating the beans we burnt on Tuesday night, for just about every meal for the rest of the week. I’ve grown to like mustard… with beans…

If simple living means “living like the poor,” I don’t think I’m doing that really. Because if for a second I do feel as though I’m living “simply,” by this standard, I just need think about the 7 year old boy that was crawling on his hands and knees on the floor of the dirty public bus, at 8pm Sunday, asking for money as he shined our flip flops. I am not on the bus floor.

If simple living means embracing the stillness of life, beauty, and God’s omnipresent blessings, I might be living simply. I wake up every morning to the sound of pigeons tapping away on our tin roof. I like it. I like knowing that they are up there, breathing, and being pigeons (I’m not certain that they are pigeons. Some sort of bird.) It rained yesterday for a half hour or so. I love the resolving sound of rain. And it comforted me in a new way this time, knowing that the neighbors would not have to “water the block” that day. They water the block so that the amount of sand and dust that comes into our houses is decreased.

Maybe this is simple. Maybe there is simplicity in my ability to write this to your from Matt’s laptop and then pay to use the internet around the corner to post for you to read.

Today, I am simply grateful for you reading.