Participants Blog

Adios FunArte

So its my last day here at FunArte and it feels as though my heart is breaking into a million pieces.

Grateful to Have Witnessed It

With a little bit over one week to go on my three month stint I´ve a lot to think about. Working day in and day out with the kids has taught me more about myself then I ever thought I would learn here. It is a constant struggle, but a happy struggle.

La Chureca

If you want to know what hell looks like, take a 2.5 hour bus to Managua from Esteli and barter with a bandito, careless taxi driver to La Chureca (the dump.) My wednesday in Managua changed my life. I always knew evil in this world existed but to that degree, never. The weakness of some human beings really baffles me. The ability we have as humans to be so heartless, uncaring, perverted, sick and twisted just breaks my spirit. What reason do we have to be that way? There is no excuse for Daniel Ortega´s actions. He sits there on his high thrown delighted with the rich people of the country riding on the backs of the human recycling factory that is La Chureca. He gives them petty presents of clean water and lunch some days just to keep them grovelling at how wonderful he is to them. They have no education, they do not know their rights as humans, in their minds they deserve this life. Its all they´ve ever known. 400 families live there, in the mounds of garbage. 2000 people a day sift through garbage, spearing what they believe to be worth something. Plastic and metal are among the treasures they desire. The air is simply unbreathable. Smoke and stench toxicate your lungs and burn your eyes. You cough and heave, everyone in La Chureca suffers from respiratory conditions. Fires can start at any time and at any place. Goats, dogs, horses, cows, pigs, vultures and children all compete for the same food source: trash. The children’s bellies are extended, swollen with air from parasites. They have head lice and flees. They sleep on garbage. They sleep ten to one single hut. The girls start prostitution in La Chureca from the age of 5. The truck drivers come each night without fail and pay the girls for their bodies in garbage, not even cordobas (the currency of Nicaragua.)

Para los Jovenes - Poetry from Siobhan in Nicaragua

Aqui esta tu proteccion contra la violencia
Aqui esta tu espada,
Crees en nuestras vidas,
en el valor de los humanos.
Por nuestro futuro, busca y cultiva,
Si tu tienes que morir,
Pero crece y refuerza.

Two Year Old Said in Nicaragua

The following reflection was sent to me by a student currently on placement in Nicaragua:

Let me introduce you all to a two year old boy called Said. This boy is the son of the cleaning girl at the house beside where Benny, Marissa and Jessica live. His situation breaks my heart to a million pieces. You see, its a long history of power struggles and hierarchy.