Nicaragua, a Land of Hope

It was a surprise for me to go to Nicaragua for an ANAM meeting. But I did go and in five days, I felt I had learned a great deal. Managua impressed me with its poverty and wealth, success and failure, desolation and hope. My observations were necessarily superficial, but the overall impression that I carried away was hope.

The reality - We (the ANAM fifteen) were briefed on the 'Central American Context' by Josefina Vijil, a teacher by profession. The background was the earthquake of 1972 which had destroyed 80 percent of Managua and left its disastrous marks even to this day. Josefina began her story with the end of Somoza's reign and the success of the Revolution, 1979 /80. The country needed complete rebuilding and the new leadership under Daniel Ortega chose the improvement of people's lives as its main goal. A national crusade of literacy was launched. That represented a moment of hope; "the whole nation was focused on education," says Josefina. Even those who opposed the revolution supported the literacy campaign. It was also at that moment that our Society went to Nicaragua. Later in the week, we visited the History museum in Granada. The beautiful paintings created by the rural people under the inspiration of Ernesto de Cardenal, the Minister of Culture at the time, bear testimony to the authenticity of the movement that unearthed great talents in ordinary people. But the museum also gave me mixed feelings when I viewed the country's earlier history in pictures and reflected on the fact that many young people in rural areas today have become illiterate once more.

Josefina did not linger on the years of the war waged by the Contras on the northern border with Honduras even though that war had left a legacy of landmines still exploding from time to time today. She simply mentioned some of the mistakes made by the Sandinistas government and told us that, after a protracted war of almost ten years, the government lost in the elections and the neo- liberals took over. The latter have ruled up to quite recently. During that period, the order of day was systematized corruption. Government positions as well as votes could be bought. It seems that Daniel Ortega who has now come back to the presidency has compromised with the neo- liberals. Josefina emphasized that her presentation was personal. Later, a young Nicaraguan voiced the opinion that it was too pessimistic. "We won't let this go on forever," she said.

Wealth and poverty - We arrived in Managua late at night. On the way to the Cantera where we were lodged, the scenario was depressing enough: dark streets lined with trees that seemed to be drying up, and on both sides, low houses reminding me of the poor quarters in Chinese cities. My impressions changed drastically early next morning when I went into the garden! The latent wealth of the country is manifest in nature: a chorus of birds singing, fresh air, blue sky, green lawn and trees with blossoms or laden with mango! Nature seemed to hold untold promises. But at the same time, outside the walls, I saw a young boy quietly sweeping the streets. What does his silence say? The contrast between wealth and poverty is evident everywhere.

The first day after our arrival was a Sunday, the local RSCJ community took us on a boat ride on Lake Managua. They told us that ages ago, Mombucho the volcano erupted to create three hundred and sixty-five tiny islands in the lake, each of which only large enough to hold a house. Our motorboat went in- between some of the islands, giving us a view of the owners' life style. These little islands also provided a symbol of isolated individuals: how easy it is to forget that no one is an island.

We had ordered dinner in a nearby restaurant before sailing, and after the ride, we went back to the restaurant to find our dinner ready. The fish was delicious, but even more enjoyable was the surrounding nature: monkeys in the trees though fortunately not too many of them, and lots of mangoes lying on the ground. Some of us picked up a few to try. Stewed in the sun, they were warm, juicy and delicious. I could not help thinking that no one really needs to starve in this country.

Cerro Pando, a village community - One day, we were divided into five groups to visit five different projects where Religious of the Sacred Heart work. I chose to go with Lucila who has been working in Cerro Pando for five years. This project is under the responsibility of the John XXIII Institute of Social Action, an agency created after the Vatican II Council to help good-willed people put theory into practice. It is attached to the Jesuit University of Central America (UCA). As I reflect now, this was perhaps the experience that helped to put hope in my heart in the midst of hopelessness.

On our way to the village, we passed by vast stretches of fields lying waste. Granted that it was the dry season and that, perhaps, the scenery would change when the rain comes in May, still the row of bare mountains on the horizon were a picture of desolation. Though the mountains on both edges of the row were green, the large part in the middle were totally brown. We were told that the local inhabitants had cut the trees to make charcoal, the one and only source of income for them. We stopped by the town hall and visited the magistrate of the county. The simplicity of his office was proof enough of the lack of resources in the area. But the mayor had good news for us. He showed us a newspaper article on his computer which announced that electricity was going to Cerro Pando. He told us that this happened thanks be to the John XXIII Institute. "Did the Institue plead for the people?" we asked. He smiled and said, "No, the Institute taught the people to come and demand electricity."

We had lunch in a restaurant frequented by officials working in the town hall. The only access to the dining area was through the kitchen. The owner/ chef let us open the lids of pots and pans before ordering our meal. Then she served us in a long, narrow room adjacent to a courtyard where the family laundry was hanging. The whole place was kept very clean. Two parrots, one red and the other green, kept us company, but they looked too tired to sing or to chat. The lunch was delicious, along with coca cola (other soft drinks or water were not safe to drink, we were told) and coffee, the meal cost @US$ 1.25. No wonder the people are poor.

As we continued our way, we saw new electric poles all along and upon arrival in the room where the village committee was going to have a meeting, we saw fixtures in the ceiling ready to receive electricity when it comes. We also saw a well already dug and safely guarded in a fenced area, and cables leading to the mid-level of the mountain nearby. A tank was being built. Soon the village will have its own supply of water. A housing project was also in progress; the newly built small houses were quite an improvement compared to some of the existing ones.

Fifteen people, two men and thirteen women gradually arrived from surrounding areas to hold their monthly meeting. Nicaragua is really a country of young people. Of the committee members, some women might have been in their forties, others were much younger. Only one elderly man drifted in during the meeting. One young mother had come with us in the truck. She fed her baby during the meeting while her 8- year old daughter played. Lucila and one other worker from the Institute spoke from time to time. One could see that they were giving guidance, but not running the meeting. The committee was discussing their monthly schedule about children's classes and about the health campaign. They were planning concrete details as to the commissioning of people to different villages to teach disease prevention. We were invited to ask questions at the end of their meeting. I asked them whether it was a burden for them to come and hold long meetings, the spontaneous answers were, "No, this is our task. We must do it."

Later, Lucila told us that when she first came, the people did not want to do anything at all. They had no schoolrooms, no teachers, no housing, and it was hard to fetch water from afar. They were helpless and hopeless, but now they have discovered how together, they can get organized and have their children educated. Teachers are all volunteers. Every weekday from 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m., they go to teach in that same room where the committee met. Students including pre-school age children are divided into three classes. The spirit of the literacy campaign seems to be alive still.

The John XXIII Institute - Cerro Pando is only one example of the Institute's many projects. We were briefed as to the Institute's history and its activities. Of the five Religious of the Sacred Heart in Managua, one has been teaching at the UCA while the other four all work as collaborators in one or the other of the Institute's agencies: natural medicine, popular education, and community organization. The Institute also runs many clinics all over the country. One medical doctor travels frequently to supervise the clinics in the countryside. Because Nicaragua is a country of volcanoes, hurricanes and earthquakes, the Institute goes to villages to teach people disaster prevention. Ketxu Amezua, a director at the Institute gave us briefing along with a colleague. When she was 21, she had volunteered to go to Central America in response to an appeal made by the Jesuit Fathers. She left Spain and traveled to several CA countries, finally settling in Nicaragua. Now she claims to be a Nicaraguan and one can see how she has grown roots in that country. At the end of the briefing, we asked her how the Institute was able to survive so many political changes. She reflected and said: "In 1983, we did some in-depth re-thinking of our reason-to-be, and made a decision to go where the needs of the people are." "Who did the re-thinking?" we asked. "A team," she said. But later on, her colleague told us that she was the chief mover. It was amazing how one person could make such a difference.

The RSCJ community in Managua - Three Mexicans, one Spanish and one Nicaraguan make up the community. One evening, they invited us to supper. All fifteen of us sat around on the covered patio and shared stories of the projects we had seen during the day. Ketxu also came. One group had visited a free school for poor children some of whom are homeless, others orphans. In the morning, a group of nine hundred come to classes, in the afternoon, another group of five hundred. On the weekends, yet another group of four hundred would gather. The school is run by a man who worked on the national crusade of alphabetization. He was eighteen years old then. He fell in love with the children and wanted to continue after political changes took place. Our one and only Nicaraguan YP teaches the 15-year olds in the same school and loves the children.

The Society does not have any project of our own in Nicaragua, but all five RSCJ seem to be doing very meaningful work and finding fulfillment therein. The parable of the mustard seed comes to mind. We may be invisible, but perhaps we leave all the more room for God because of that? I may not be able to pinpoint what exactly gave me hope in Nicaragua, perhaps it's the convergence of many little things I saw there? In the final analysis, however, hope comes from the invisible.

Theresa Chu rscj
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