I Got Nothing for Christmas*

Have you ever had a Christmas when you got nothing*?

I mean nothing, nothing.

Not even a chocolate bar? Not even a bag of peanuts?

I just had one of those. I think it was my first one of those.

I was actually feeling a little sorry for myself for a while. Probably because Christmas was always such a big material event around our household. For good or for bad, that's the way it was.

But then I got to thinking that my Christmas was not a giftless one.

Last Saturday, one of the recent graduates of BECA showed up on my doorstep, like a stray puppy dog. His name is Jose Francisco and I don't really know him that well. In three years, we may have exchanged 50 words.

After some chitchat -- hey, 75 words now! -- he started pulling something out of his backpack.

Out came his diploma and I was gifted the face of a proud and effusive young man. "I just wanted to thank you Walter for helping me get this thing." (Very rough translation.)

It was one of the nicest Christmas gifts I've ever received. And it sure beats the latest Dolce And Gabbana cologne, wouldn't you say?

* For dramatic effect, I'm not including gifts that I received during my visit to Canada in November that were given in advance. My sister Kelly and her family and my mother m are ALWAYS very generous with me.

365 More Days Around the Sun

This year my December 8th was turning into a typical December 8th. 

3pm. Quietly settling into a good e-book, a poker video on the computer, relaxing in my leisureware (meaning underwear), hershey's kisses -- with almonds! -- at my side, reading in peace in my "mansion" as members of BECA "Team Nica" call it.

I ask you, dear reader, . . .  "what else could a guy need?

"Knock, knock." Who on earth could that be? Who would dare disrupt me on my day of peace and tranquililty.

I open the door and there appear +SoraniaDavila, +UraniaMontoya -- with cake in hand -- and, lurking behind, +MaryuryRuiz. My three lieutenants in BECA.

"Huh? What are you doing here?"

"Well, we couldn't forget your birthday, Walter."

Awwwww.

Before tears could well up I ushered them to the patio table and we sat down to enjoy the cake they brought along and some harmless, delightful chatter. After an hour or so they chose to pursue what I believe to be a much more interesting pursuit.

My BECA "Army": Sorania, Urania, Maryury (8-12-12)

So what else could a guy need? Well, how about the kindness and thoughtfulness of three lovely women.

That's what else. My day was now complete.

P.S. I want to mention that I also received email congratulations from both Antonio Rodriguez and Eliezer Alvarado. The three of us have parted company recently but despite our differences they chose to take the high road and extend birthday wishes. I applaud them for the classy gestures.

12-12-12

Today is a special day for those people superstitious about numbers.

I'm not really one of those, but, hey, count me in!

Two reasons.

1. 12 is my favorite number. It was my first jersey number in soccer, probably given to me arbritarily by some grown-up. But it stuck.
2. The allure of something that won't happen again. This one is a little more difficult to explain. But it's extremely attractive to know that you are experiencing something that won't happen again. In your lifetime. Think Halley's comet. Think total solar eclipse. Think Rolling Stones farewell concert tour. Oops. Okay maybe not the last one. 

And then it turns out that those very same Stones -- probably my favorite band -- are participating in a Hurricane Sandy benefit concert in New York tonigh. Streaming live on the Internet!

Three of my favorite things all in one day. The number 12. The Rolling Stones. The Internet. 

Taxis in Masaya, Nicaragua

How do I get around in Masaya?

Taxi. I did buy a car a few months ago, but it's a real lemon. (Blog on the lemon overdue.)

You just can't beat a Masaya taxi ride for the price. Usually 50 cents for a trip. Yes, I said CENTS.

Masaya Taxi (One of the nicer ones)

And they are everywhere. You rarely have to wait more than a couple of minutes to flag one down.

Did I say "flag one down"? Oops. Actually no flagging is necessary as these customer-hungry creatures will honk to attract your attention. Imagine that? 

I don't know how the poor souls make a living because the price of gas is more than what we pay in Canada; as of this write, about $1.25 a liter.

Of course there are idiosyncrasies, like:

• sharing your trip. Be prepared to share your ride with other people your taxista picks up en route.
• opening the door from the outside (to get out!).
• visiting the gas station on your trip (and watching him buy $2 worth of gas - "super," of course).
• paying a 50% premium if you're gringo (hey, it's still only 75 cents!).

Dad liked to say, "you get what you pay for."

Not in this case, Dad. Can't think of a better deal in all of Nicaragua.

(Happy?) Birthday

I went back and forth several times on whether or not I should publish this photo.

It crossed my mind that the photo would not present a dignified portrayal of my hero.

Nevertheless, I feel the purpose of the blog is to share. It is what we try to impress upon all of the participants in BECA Nicaragua.

That we share our realities with each other. Why should I be exempt from sharing a part of my reality?

Besides, I believe the photo wonderfully captures the sweetness and quiet elegance of this gentle man. He is still there!

Happy 87th birthday, father. I love you.

November 21, 2012 (Edmonton, Canada)

Applause

I am writing to you from Edmonton. My Canadian hometown.

I came here for a two week visit for several reasons, the foremost of which was to spend time with my father. (I have written about him before in this space.)

Dad has Alzheimer's disease.

Dad no longer recognizes me, has lost his ability to communicate, and passes his day strapped into a fancy wheelchair.

Sitting there.

Sometimes babbling incoherently.

And at other times clapping his hands compulsively. His caregivers put mitts on his hands to muffle the sound.

The clapping is unsettling.

"Why does he do that?" "Can't you get him to stop?" "Will some kind of drug abate that annoying tendency?"

"No there is nothing you can do, he wants to clap," came the polite reply. Or something to that effect. (I've asked more than once, to more than one attendant, nurse, and/or doctor.)

[Groan]

Oh well, I guess I'll just have to tolerate it.

And then, a few days ago on this trip I came up with another explanation.

You see, Dad has always been supportive of everything I've ever tried in my life.

He's been my biggest booster. Unconditionally. (This is saying a lot considering some of my goofy ideas through the years.)

And usually in a quiet, unspoken way.

So the way I choose to see it, is that he -- if I may dare say -- is clapping for . . . me.

He can no longer express himself verbally, so this is his own way of expressing his satisfaction for the work I am trying to do in some faraway place.

A joyous insight. And this alone has made this short, little visit a treasure.

Thanks, Dad. You have found a way to reenergize the pursuit of my dream.

Now excuse me, dear reader. I can hear someone clapping.

Cruelty, Rules and Impartiality

Some call us in BECA inflexible and cruel.

Why?

We like to stick to our guns.

A program like ours requires policies.

Well actually it doesn't require policies, but one of BECA's values is impartiality.

And I believe strongly that there is no possible way to respect this value if we don't have policies that are transparent, well-communicated, and -- here is the kicker -- enforced evenly on all program participants.

Sometimes these policies do appear cruel. It is difficult to anticipate in advance all of the "exceptions" that may present themselves. A severe illness. An accident. A broken camera.

The reality is that there i) have been, ii) are, and, iii) will be exceptions. Always.

Some (many?) say that in Nicaragua it isn't what you know, or how hard you try, but it's who you know.

As long as I'm associated with BECA, I will do my damndest to make sure this doesn't creep into our organization.

No playing favorites.

And no making exceptions, however cruel that may appear to some.

And I make no apologies for it.

So Beautiful to Look At . . . (from indoors)

This is a picture taken from my Mom's apartment in Edmonton. After a snowfall, the trees are breathtaking!

Postcard perfect! 

Now before you rush off and book your plane ticket, keep in mind that I'm being selective in my presentation. The view of a busy street is a little less attractive.  

Nevertheless, to all my friends and workmates in Nicaragua . . . I wish you were here (Me gustaría que estuvieran aquí.) 

Edmonton, Alberta (12 November 2012)

Canada Bound Without Much to Say

OMG.

That is what someone on the BECA team would say to me if I told them that I didn't have much to say.

They think I talk way, WAY too much.

And compared to them, I guess I do. Okay, I don't guess. I do.

In the last few months, I've been trying really hard not to talk as much, and to listen more. (This isn't easy to do here folks. Nicas are great listeners, and the ones I know the best are wonderful listeners.)

Anyway, I'm not sure how this experiment is working out, and I'm not ready to ask them how I'm doing.

Yet.

But I'm quite curious how things will pan out on this vacation to Edmonton. I'm talking about this not-talking-so-much bender I'm on.

Have you been listening?

LOL.

A Blog About Blogs

Do you ever do something on a regular basis that you have been doing for quite a while and that you think is a good thing but you aren't really sure why? [Please say yes.]

Well that is the situation here in BECA with the blogs.

It goes something like this.

BECA students have been writing weekly blogs since we started here in Nicaragua in 2008.

For doing so, each blogger receives a bonus in their monthly payment.

From what I can tell, some students love doing it, some students hate doing it, and most are neutral and simply see it as an obligation.


Initially I perceived it as a way that sponsors could monitor the progress of their students.

As BECA moves away from the foreign sponsorship model, this no longer qualifies as a raison d'etre.

So what do we do? Get rid of the blog component?

I asked the BECA team for a recommendation. They came back to me with a list of pros and contras. [groan . . .geez, thanks a lot guys].

So I guess it's kinda up to me.

And I'm really torn up about the issue.

Somehow, deep, deep down, I think it's a really good thing.

But I ask you . . . is it pure nostalgia doing the thinking?

A Charity Rant

Where does charity begin?

Well, they say it begins at home, right?

Of course it does.

The million-dollar question is . . . "what is home?"

In my way of thinking our planet is our home.

And isn't it about time that the richest people to ever walk the face of the earth -- present-day Canadians and Americans -- came to this realization?

There. I feel better. Now let me get back to preparing for my impending two-week vacation back home.

Oops.

Did I just say that?

Your Neighbor and Mine - BECA Student Xochilt Obando (Nicaragua 2008)

Lessons from Obama (not)

I pay close attention to U.S. politics. It's a hobby. [Aside. I'm not the only Canadian to do so. Just visit the website of my hometown paper, The Edmonton Journal. You'd think Edmonton was an American city!]

Which brings me to the flavor of the month in U.S. politics - these presidential debates.

I watched the one on Tuesday, October 16th, and would like to share an observation.

I took notice when Romney approached Obama on the stage to banter at one point early on. Obama's reaction was to turn his back on him and walk back to his stool.

 

Source: Youtube (October 16th, 2012)

I was incredulous.

The interesting thing is that I probably wouldn't have noticed PN (pre-Nicaragua).

So what's the big deal?

It just doesn't happen here.

Nicaraguans don't turn their backs. Nicaraguans don't walk away. If they have to walk away, they excuse themselves.

It's a beautiful thing.

And it's another thing I adore about Nicaragua and their people.

Letting the Walrus Out of the Bag

I was catching up on some online news yesterday when I came across this baby walrus pic.

Source: New York Times 10-9-12

So adorable!

A "cute pic" can really impact me.

Two examples of BECA pics that have done the same.

Becada Yessica Lanuza and Friend (BECA Brigade, Estelí 2011)

Becada Kenia Ortiz and Friends (Ortiz Family Home, Masaya 2008)

Both pics affected me. 

The pic with Yessica confirmed something that I already suspected. That the BECA social service component -- the "Brigade" -- was a beautiful thing and was worth maintaining, whatever it takes.

The second pic was taken at the home of then BECA-applicant Kenia Ortiz. Kenia became one of our first students. I think I took this picture myself. It was early on in BECA's life and to this day it still makes my eyes wet. I remember asking myself, "Why shouldn't this elegant, responsible young woman have an opportunity to study something if that is what her heart desires?" 

I guess the cat is now out of the bag. Show me a cute pic, and I'm yours.

The Kalamazoo Promise

Have you heard of this thing? This Kalamazoo Promise?

I hadn't until I stumbled upon this article recently.

As described in Wikipedia,

"The Kalamazoo Promise is a pledge by a group of anonymous donors to pay up to 100 percent of tuition at any of Michigan's state colleges or universities for graduates of the public high schools of [the city of ] Kalamazoo, Michigan."

What it boils down to is that if you live in the city of Kalamazoo and graduate from high school, your tuition will be paid for to attend community college or university anywhere in the state of Michigan.

The "Promise" was launched in 2005 and, generally speaking, has generated positive results.

The way I see it, young people in Kalamazoo now can see the light at the end of the tunnel. There is something waiting for them if they can bust their butts and graduate.

I couldn't help but think of our little organization while reading about this thing.

Why?

BECA receives criticism from time to time for restricting the opportunities it offers to only high school graduates. "Why only high school grads?" . . . and the line of questioning goes from there.

From a Primary School Where BECA Students Volunteered in 2011

Most of the time, my response has been to shrug my shoulders and thank them for their opinion.

Deep inside I felt that there was a good reason, but that I hadn't come up with it yet.

Maybe this is it!

Maybe BECA one day will motivate a few families in the Nicaraguan countryside to support, urge, and cajol their children into finishing high school.

Wouldn't that be a wonderful unintended positive consequence of the work we try to do down here?

Yeah, I know, it sounds kinda dreamy.

But I'm going to keep thinking about this so I can stop shrugging my shoulders.

I promise.

119 Days and 1 Great Insight

It was May 31st -- four months ago -- that I took over again as Executive Director of BECA.org Nicaragua.

My current team consists of three Coordinators, one Office Manager, and one Intern (who will soon become a Coordinator herself.) All except one are graduates of the BECA program.

What has been my greatest insight since returning?

That my biggest challenge has nothing to do with management and everything to do with psychology:

Persuading and convincing these passionate young people that they know what's best for BECA Nicaragua.
And that I don't.

I work at this every day.

And thanks to their passion for BECA I think we're making progress.

Hi. My Name is Walter Howard.

Like in Canada, newborn in Nicaragua are typically given a first and second name by their parents.

Canadians tend to go by their first name.

That isn't always the case here. It's quite common that the first given name takes a back seat to the second given name.

I find the practice rather puzzling.

The Canadian way seems more logical, right? I mean someone's first name should take precedence. Wasn't that the intention of their parents?

I've asked around for explanations.

Nobody seems to know why.

Or nobody wants to tell me.

But I am determined to unearth the mystery behind what I consider to be another Nicaraguan cultural oddity.

On a recent student visit with BECA Coordinator Urania Montoya I pounced again.

"Why do you use your second name? Why don't you use your first name?," I interrogated the student.

Ms. Montoya, appearing to lose patience with my stubbornness, turned to me and quipped sharply, "Why don't you begin by explaining why you use Walter?"

Gulp.

Point well taken.

I've stopped asking. For the time being. But I'd still like to know.

BECA's Annual Retreat

Last year BECA "gran queso" Antonio Rodriguez and I started what we hoped would be an annual practice.

A long weekend in which the BECA team could get away for a two to three day pow-wow to consider changes in our program for the coming year.

The second version of the "BECA Annual Retreat" is set for the first weekend in October.

The weekend is pretty important. Decisions made with respect to policies and processes that weekend impact our students directly for the coming year and beyond.

I really like these kinds of things. They represent a chance to hang out and get to know one another a bit better. Sometimes in an informal setting people let their guard down and it can lead to creative decision-making.

I've already made the first one.

I'm not going.

Yep, I'm the acting Executive Director. And the Executive Director should be there. And deep down I want to be there.

But this Executive Director thinks its more important to empower the BECA team members to learn to make decisions and learn about the consequences that they can bring.

I believe it's the best thing for BECA Nicaragua in the longer run.

And they'll be just fine.

Nine Things That I Bet You Didn't Know About Me

In no special order:

1. I was in a rock band in high school. Bass guitar.
2. I have extremely rare palms (you might know this because I've mentioned it here before).
3. I have a tattoo (don't tell my mom, please)
4. I drink two big bottles of club soda every day (Canada Dry, of course!)
5. I don't know how to cook (yeah, and I'm fifty  . . . . sigh)
6. I once drove a sports car into a ravine (a long, long time ago)
7. My coffee in the morning consists of two parts coffee, one part chocolate milk. (Now I didn't say all of these would be interesting.)
8. I still think about my pet frog that died (Grade 7). Ditto for my precious Banana Splits flashlight (Grade 4).
9. I have a secret passion for reading rock star autobiographies.

So what about you?

Oh come on, don't be shy? Share! I did.

Two Down, Two More to Go

I have a secret wish.

And it isn't anything complicated.

I have four best friends in the world and I want all of them to visit me here in Nicaragua.

After August, I am happy to report that I am halfway to my goal because my buddy Albert showed up for a two week visit. He was preceded by Darren, who has come three times.

That only leaves Ron and "The Weasel."

Hurry it up, guys. I'm waiting.

Albert and me, Nicaraguan Airport (August 2012)

Just When I Thought . . .

Community service has been an important part of BECA from the beginning. Why was community service included in the BECA program? You know I can't really remember, but it had something to do with introducing the concept of "giving back" to these young people.

We began in 2008 with individual projects. They were difficult and costly to supervise.

We moved to a group service model in 2009.

Every student is "asked" to participate in two Saturday morning service outings per month that are organized by BECA Coordinators.

Since reassuming the Directorship three months ago, I've been attending these things as much as I can to see if this core program component is working.

Yuck. Not too impressive.

And I was starting to get a little depressed about the lacklustre participation and the eager clock-watching of our students.

It was obvious that most of the students didn't want to be there.

And I'm not sure I blame them. Way, WAY too much cleaning and cutting grass. Of hospitals. Of schools. Of public health centers.

What adolescent, or young adult, -- or human being, for that matter -- likes doing boring stuff like that?

And then, as my fog about all of this thickened, along comes last Saturday; a visit to a home for high-risk girls in Granada.

Folks, there is light at the end of the tunnel!

I was moved to tears by the power of this simple gathering and exchange of fellowship between BECA students and the 23 girls who live there.

The beaming faces on those girls -- and on our students -- made every previous grass-cutting, trash-picking, and wall-scrubbing activity worthwhile, if it all led to a day like this.

So why does community service remain in the BECA program? I'm still not completely sure, but I think the answer lies somewhere below.

BECA Students Larry and Heissy with friends. See more pictures here.

It's the Culture, Stupid!

Adapting to a new culture is enjoyable but remains challenging from time to time.

One of the things that my visitors notice is that Nicaraguans don't have the regular custom to say "thank you."

When food is involved.

Let's say you buy someone here a slice of pizza. He or she will gladly accept the pizza slice. He or she will eat the pizza slice. And he or she will look happy eating the pizza slice.

He or she WON'T be saying thank you after the snack.

I can vouch that the issue is definitely not a lack of manners or decorum.

It's the culture, stupid! :)

The reality is that Nicaraguans are extremely polite. For example, Nicas are meticulous about excusing themselves when leaving a gathering of people, regardless of the size. I don't see many Canadians doing that. We're too busy rushing to the next item on our to-do list.
 
Over all, I figure that Nicaragua would win the silver medal in the Politeness Olympics. Costa Rica would win the gold. (The "standing in line" competition would do Nicaragua in, but that's another blog entry . . . )

Here's a thought. On your next trip to Nicaragua -- you're coming soon, right? -- leave your big bag of "food thank you expectations" behind.

And get ready to learn a different culture of courtesy and civility.

And, no, you don't have to thank me for the tip. :)

A Visit to a Nicaraguan Cockfight

!!! WARNING !!! This blog entry contains a photo that some may find offensive.

Cockfighting is very much well and alive here in Nicaragua. And, yeah, the idea repulses me too, but I had to go!

Cost of entry was about $5. I'm guessing the venue housed about 250 spectators, mostly men in their forties and fifties.

The Nicaraguan cockfighting is all about gambling. It's a haphazard, informal gambling.

Pre-match, while the handlers are "warming up their chickens," spectators look for others in the crowd to place bets with. There didn't appear to be any middle man. I picked a chicken, and placed a bet of about $10 with a fellow located a couple of rows down. My chicken won.

I was curious if this stranger would pay up. (Nicaragua is after all the home of the social movement "We don't pay!")

He did. Without hesitation. And I saw absolutely no indication of any squabbling over wagers in the stands.

The cocks didn't fight to the death even though the raucous crowd was certainly urging it. Both chickens were chewed up pretty good at the end so I can't possibly see how they could live to fight another day.

The answer became clear when I noticed the juicy drumstick in the mouth of the person beside me.

All in all a fascinating peak into the culture of this interesting land.

Yes, the man in the orange shirt is attempting to breathe new life into his chicken (mouth-to-beak resuscitation?) Meanwhile, the opposition -- the fellow in the red hat -- doesn't look all that too concerned by the desperate measure. See more pictures here.

giving adVICE

It's fun to ask people what their "secret of success" is. Whither that be career-oriented, spiritual, or matrimonial.

So when I heard about the book that Katie Couric put together, "The Best Advice I Ever Got - Lessons from Extraordinary Lives," I didn't hesitate.

(7.5 /10, for those that know that I like to score almost anything and everything.)

As one might expect, the bestest advice was all over the map:

• Be bold. 
• There is no substitute for hard work.
• The best learning lesson I can give you on accomplishment is to listen.
• There is no success without failure. Period. And usually a lot of it.
• One person with passion is better than forty people merely interested.
• Sadness is the soul recognizing change.

I like the last one, but my favorite . . . (by far!):

• Don’t give advice.

Not sure why. It just is.

Tell the World Your Story (in ten words or less)

How would you like to be remembered in one simple sentence?

Here are some examples (with some help from a recent entry in Daily Guideposts):

• “She saw beauty in flowers.”
• “He saw the courage in every elderly person.”
• “She liked to kick in autumn leaves.”
• “She cried over the wonder of words.”
• “He always wanted to live in a tree house.”
• “He was content to read and watch.”
• “She was always of two minds.”
• “He never, ever ripped anyone off.”

Or . . .

how about this one . . .
"He could never live up to his age." 

Bigger is Better

Or is it?

"Don't worry so much about the numbers, Walter. Just keep working at what you believe in and the numbers will take of themselves."

That's the advice I received a while ago from a friend.

She was probably referring to my penchant to measure BECA's success by counting stuff (whether that be bad stuff (desertions), or good stuff (jobs, life transformations).

My friend recognized that behind my logic lurks this belief that bigger is somehow better.

I wonder if that famous statistician-to-the-poor has something to say about all this?



Interesting times these as I take a deep second look at what BECA is trying to do in Nicaragua -- after spending a little while away.

Hey Walter, Chill out!

Four years down here -- hey, almost five! -- in Nicaragua and I still find it easy to get caught up in obsessing over details (of the BECA program).

Details that in the whole scheme of things don't really matter that much.

So I'm writing this blog to remind myself of something important - enjoying the moment.

Dear Walter,

Sure it's important that BECA run efficiently and smoothly but it isn't the end of the world when you encounter a hiccup here and there. Or even a hiccup "grande." It's wonderful that you pride yourself in being some kind of master organizer, but . . .

• Stop and smell the roses.
• Remember that life is short.
• Have fun!

Sincerely,
Walter  

P.S. Check out this video and learn a little bit about this from the BECA program participants, okay?

Jeopardy, Nicaraguan-style

Answer. A three month full-time volunteering stint being a teacher's assistant in a Nicaraguan elementary school.

Question. What is the BECA Brigade?

To receive earn a scholarship, all candidates must do this "gig." And if they show up late more than three times, they're out. That's three times in three months.

It isn't easy. It's tough. And almost none of the participants are happy about it. In the first week, it's fair to say most consider quitting. (How do you say "shock treatment" in Spanish?)

But -- if I may dare say so -- it remains one of my best ideas since showing up here in Nicaragua almost five years ago.

Words don't do the BECA Brigade justice.

Pictures can begin to tell the story.

So hang in there you guys! All of us at BECA believe in you.

Becados Patricia and Sergio (in the blue shirts) with some of their clients (June 2012)

A Moment in Time

L to R: Eliezer, Urania, WH, Ana, Maryury

Event: a dinner to celebrate the success of BECA marketing in Masaya

Invited: all the members of the BECA Nicaragua team

Not in attendance: Antonio Rodriguez, the "gran queso" of BECA.org Nicaragua

Context: We're on the second floor of a restaurant wondering where Antonio might be. Suddenly, on the street below, a school parade passes. And who might we see? No one but the gran queso himself, shepherding along his youngest son.

The magic of the moment: Despite all going around him, Antonio pulls out his camera and snaps this photo from the street. How many people would have the kindness of spirit and foresight to stop what he was doing -- minding his distracted child in a parade -- to take a picture of a celebration in which he couldn't participate? Voila, an instant classic, taken by one of the most thoughtful men I know. BECA is blessed to have him.

What I Learn From Sudoku

I've written before that I'm a Sudoku nut.

And sometimes people look at me funny when I confess my passion for it. ("Sudo-who?")

I start every day with Sudoku. About an hour or so.

I want to share three things that I've learned from Sudoku, and that I try to apply in my life, occasionally with success.

1. There are no shortcuts. I have a tried and true routine to solve my puzzles in an efficient manner. Whenever I deviate, or try to implement some kind of "faster-quicker" idea, the results are mixed at best.
2. Be satisfied with a good result. It isn't necessary to beat a record every day. No crime to quit with a solid, but perhaps not outstanding result. ("Quit while you're ahead?") The next solving time could be much worse.
3. There is always a solution. My average time to solve is 8 minutes. My record time is 4 minutes, but it can take as long as half an hour sometimes. Sometimes the answer doesn't appear right away, but it will come eventually if I remain patient.

Now, don't get me wrong, to me Sudoku is very much a hobby of pleasure. And I don't do it to garner deep insights.

But like my Dad used to say, you can learn something from everyone (and everything)!

Could this be the solution to my Spanish problems?

Sometimes It Feels a Little Uncomfortable

Currently BECA Nicaragua has about 60 students in the classification stage.
 
I try to keep a low profile and let the BECA team handle things, but it's such great fun paying these young people a visit.

17 of the Current Crop of BECA Nicaragua Candidates (June 2012)

I get a big kick out of these visits, but there are some fidgety moments.

You see, they can be a little effusive.

"Thank you so much for showing up here in Nicaragua". . . "Thank you for this incredible opportunity" . . . "Thank you for saving my life" (!!!), etc.

It's really really nice hearing those kind of things. That isn't the uncomfortable part.

Things get uncomfortable when I try to share my point of view.

"Hey you guys, I feel like I'm the fortunate one here, because look what I get to do."

BIG BLANK STARES

And I have an idea what they're thinking. Another nutty gringo. Or he sounds like a politician. Or what a phony. Like they want to say "cut the crap."

I guess it may be better to keep my mouth shut and accept their gratitude without responding.

But you know, I want them to know what an honor it is for me to be involved, and how much I learn every day, about myself, and about the world . . . from them!

Either way, it's all very interesting (to me).

25,648

Photos, that is.

Yep. As of May 31st, 2012, BECA has taken some 25,648 photos. That's twenty-five thousand six hundred and forty-eight, for you banker types. 

In the four and a half years since the BECA idea was hatched, that works out to 15.6 photos per day

All are in our online photo gallery.

But if you're not like me and you don't have the time on your hands to look at 25,648 photos, you can check out some of my favorites.

The album is here.

Orientation to Serve

Adapted from the BECA June 2012 Newsletter

Now that BECA Nicaragua has a team in place, one of the challenges I'm finding is instilling an orientation to serve. To ask our team that they reallly open their eyes and look hard for opportunities to serve our clients (i.e., the students we supervise).

In Nicaragua, the orientation to serve a customer is . . . hmmmm . . . well, I don't mind saying that it doesn't come even remotely close to fussy North American standards.

[Aside: Yeah, I know there are exceptions, so hang on to your hat. I'm speaking in general terms and about its implications for our organization.] Anyway, why is it this way?

Here's my simplistic take.

The great majority of Nicas are just trying to get by. That means if they are going to be interested in serving anyone, it would be themselves.

And why shouldn't they be?

It makes sense. Difficult to be critical of that.

It is my belief that this mentality trickles down to people working in the service industry. A good example is going to a Nicaraguan pharmacy. It's every person for himself! He who maketh the most noise, shall be served first. Survival of the fittest, capitalist style. (Substitute pharmacy for pizza kiosk, meat counter, etc.)

All of this has implications for BECA. Our current service model demands an high degree of  attention to detail. It could be an unrealistic expectation. Or a mission that isn't optimal for this environment.

I'll think about this some more but it may mean scaling down our ambitious mission of transforming lives to something more achievable. Hey, if people are good at serving and helping themselves doesn't it make more sense to concentrate on facilitating that?

Food for thought.

Hello, May I Speak to Jesus?

It cracks me up every time.

It's just because where I come from there are no guys named Jesus. At least I never met one.

But they have them here in Nicaragua.

Now, it isn't what I would call a common Nicaraguan man's name, but they're lurking around. [Parenthesis: You pronounce it "hey-seuss."]

Recently, I made contact with one of them. A bus driver. I asked for his phone number to make future reservations on his bus.

When it came time to give him a ring . . . I just couldn't do it with a straight face.

"Hello, may I speak to Jesús?"

Another beautiful oddity.

Who is that Young Woman on the BECA Home Page?

I am sometimes asked how and why I chose the feature image of the BECA home page.

My answer has always been a rather sheepish and sluggish "I don't know."

The "poster girl" is Maryury Ruíz of Masaya. She is a graduate of the BECA program and is now working for BECA as a Coordinator.

Maryury Ruíz (2010)

A few months ago, BECA Executive Director Antonio Rodriguez decided to ask if any member of our team was interested in living in the city of Estelí to support our students studying there.

I am told Maryury volunteered for the opportunity. Enthusiastically. Wow! [Parenthesis. This was no pithy request. Estelí is far away from Masaya and moving away would be quite a dramatic change for any young nica from the campo. Think backwater Saskatchewan to downtown Toronto.]

Sadly, the marketing for more students in Estelí didn't go that well, through no fault of her own. And I believe that Maryury may be asked to move back to Masaya. Or maybe she already has.

Please don't despair Maryury! All of us admire your courageous and adventurous spirit.

And I can hardly wait for the next person to ask me why I chose your picture for the website.

Now I am ready to answer.

Much Ado About Nada

BECA students are required to write a blog every week.  I don't think we ask for much -- at least ten lines.

If I could hazard a guess, I would say a quarter of the students do an excellent job. A second quarter do what we call at BECA a "regular" job. The remaining 50% do the absolute bare minimum.

I don't consider the blog to be an onerous task, but you would never know it talking to some of them (especially "los minimalistas"). 

"I have nothing to write about."

Huh? Zip? Zero? Zilch?

Goose Egg? Bagel? Zippo?

Geez, we have a lot of words in the English language to express nothingness, don't we?

My personal favorite is zip, followed closely by zilch.

Also interesting to me is that we hear native English speakers using "nada." For the record, I have never ever heard a Spanish speaker say "nothing."

Hmmm. All of this might be useful information for the seven BECA students we have in our pilot Call Center training project.

But anyway, I dedicate this blog entry to those becados who complain about having nothing to write about.

You see, a person can even write a blog about nothing!

To Supervise or not to Supervise?

(From the BECA May Newsletter)

Supervision. And how much of it is really necessary?

The BECA team wrestles with this issue quite a bit.

Some members of the team think that the answer is "lots." 

The argument is that the students are still very young -- usually late teens to early twenties -- and therefore require it. Moreover, they are often the first in their family to study a career on a formal basis. (Imagine that!)

BECA Director Antonio Rodriguez with a scholarship candidate (April/12)

The other camp are of the opinion that our students have already proven their maturity and seriousness by qualifying for the scholarship. They are, after all, young adults and "chasing after them" at school and at home is largely unnecessary.

Currently our policy is that BECA Coordinators visit each student at school every month. In addition, during the July break, they pay their family a visit at home.

BECA program graduates are visited every other month. 

Originally, I was firmly entrenched in the "more supervision" group.

But I must admit that I find myself slowly changing my tune. Or mellowing out, if you like. 

Why? These young people are very resourceful. And many are seeking an educational opportunity, not someone to hold their hand.

Checking in on our students and graduates will always be a part of BECA.

The question is, how often? 

Do you Believe in Coincidences?

Interestingly, I have found myself involved in a series of seemingly-related coincidences recently.

The whole thing has piqued my curiosity.

I decided to investigate further the phenomena of coincidences.

It appears that there are two opposing schools of thought on the issue.

The first, which I informally dub the "scientific" school, believes that coincidences are nothing special and trying to unearth a deeper meaning in them is a big waste of time. There will be none to be found. Ever.

The second school of thought tackles the issue from a "spiritual" perspective. Roughly speaking, coincidences are messages from God (or an alternative "higher power"). Adherents to the spiritual perspective argue that everything is affected by something related to it that may be unseen or unknowable. Paradoxically then, for the "spiritualists" coincidences do not exist.

Hmmm.

So tell me. What do you think?

Should I be reading deeper? Or would I be wasting my time doing so?

Something Special About Me (If I May Say So)

According to the "experts," my extremely rare palm lines indicate one of two things:

1. genius
2. madness

Either way, I've always loved my palms.

And it's one of my lifelong goals to meet a like-palmed person.

Can you help me?

Nicaragua Needs One of These

I'm talking about a woman.

One woman in particular.

Her name is Camila Vallejo.

And she lives in Chile.

Camila Vallejo

She's one of the leaders of a Chilean student protest movement.

Their issue: fair access to a quality education.

It seems that Ms. Vallejo and some like-minded young people just got fed up with the inaccessibilty of Chile's educational system.

And they're doing something about it.

Well, more than something.

The New York Times writes that their protests, occupations, and strikes have "paralyzed the country and shattered Chile’s image as Latin America’s greatest political and economic success story."

As we know, Nicaragua is no economic success story. (Some might even say that it is the reverse. But that is beside the point.)

What matters is that the same social problem -- educational inequality -- is firmly entrenched here, too.

It's BECA's cause.

In the long term, I believe that BECA's challenge runs deeper than rewarding serious students with scholarships.

Let's level the playing field!

And I think it would really help to have a young, charismatic Nicaraguan Camila (or Juan) here to lead the charge.

BECA graduates, are you reading this?

The nose ring isn't obligatory. :)

To Bribe or Not To Bribe

"But we are not seeking to profit here. We're trying to contribute."

This is how I reacted when one of our advisors told us three years ago that a Nicaraguan government official was seeking a payment . . . to officially register BECA as a foreign-based non-profit working in Nicaragua!

Sign in Government Office in Managua

Huh?

After asking around, I grudgingly approved the "back alley" payment of around 50 bucks. I felt our hands were tied. BECA needed the registration to get our bank account. (Not that that makes it right, right?)

Payoffs to traffic cops are common in Nicaragua. Those I had heard about. And also an activity in which I have willingly participated. Otherwise, the weasels confiscate your driver's license. (Not that that makes it right, right?)

Private enterprise is in the game, too. "I'm sorry sir, but all the connections to the router are spoken for in this city block," suggested the CLARO sales representative when I ordered Internet service for the old office.

Huh?

The lack of competition forced an under-the-table payment to the señor. We really needed the service. We use technology quite a bit. (Not that that makes it right, right?)

Miraculously, a spot became available on the router the next day.

For the record, I regret every single bribe paid.

What to do? What would you do?

I'm still not sure what I'll do the next time a government official demands payment from BECA.

But I know this much.

Bring on the traffic cop. Now I always have two driver's licenses on hand when I'm driving in Nicaragua (one Canadian, one Nicaraguan).

They can help themselves to one of them.

(That makes it right, right?)

You Can't Do That Here

"You can't do that here."

I've heard this more than a few times since showing up in Nicaragua four years ago. And being the stubborn ox that I am, that's all I need to hear to dig my heels in and prove a naysayer wrong.

Here are a few examples.

1) Have punctuality as a core value of BECA and reward only those who show up on time."

"This is Nicaragua, Walter. Are you nuts? You won't have any students left at the end of your screening course."

"Just watch us."

Sure enough, Nicaraguan youth are more than happy to show up on time. And from what I've seen, they're a lot better at it than some of their teachers.

2) Have three months of social service as a component of the BECA screening process.

Here even my main man in Nicaragua -- Excecutive Director Antonio Rodriguez -- had serious doubts.

"Nicaraguans don't believe much in community service. It isn't part of our culture."

"Just watch us."

It doesn't surprise me to see a majority of our students participate, and participate earnestly and enthusiatically (albeit not initially). So much about volunteering not being part of Nicaraguan culture.

3) Project Call Center. We have a goal of training a group of ten serious-minded young people in intensive English (8 hours a day!) to help them get employment in a Call Center afterwards.

To my surprise, a representative from one of the Call Centers themselves indicated to us his doubts. "I'm not sure it's possible. You are asking way too much of these youngsters."

That's all I needed to hear. I'm not sure if it's going to work, but it won't be because of a lack of blood, sweat and tears.

Why am I confident? Because we know how to do one thing well here at BECA.

And that's believe in our students.

And believe in them as unconditionally as possible. That's basically what we down here. Believe. The students do all the hard work. Our team can sit back and enjoy their successes.

After four years in Nicaragua, I am just now coming to realize the power of this simple concept.

Unconditional belief in a person can move mountains.

So Mr. "Call Center Expert" Don't underestimate these young people. We believe in them.

So I say to you . . .

"Just watch them."

What I Miss in Nicaragua

One thing that I go without more than I would like to here in Nicaragua?

A really, good stimulating conversation.

I'm not talking about the superficial blah-blah-blah like weather, sports scores, and traffic conditions.


I mean the deeper stuff.

One on one conversations, face to face.

I love talking about deeper issues, provocative issues, current events.



It's probably my fault and I suppose there a couple of obstacles to overcome.

• Nicas say that I'm intimidating.
• Others say that my Spanish is pathetic and not worth the while.
• Still others suggest that I'm too blunt for their taste.
• It has also been suggested that "my doors appear closed."

All points well taken. I will work harder, especially on the last point.

But if you still want to talk about the weather?

It's hot. Period.

Let's go to the next topic, okay? :)

At Last, My Love Has Returned

At long last you have returned to me, the love of my life.

It feels like an eternity since I held you. An eternity of more than ten months.

How deeply I have missed the touch of your soft skin.

And how profoundly warm it makes me feel inside to have you here at my side.

My dear Rosita.

Why, I ask you, must you limit your visits so? Why must you limit your visit to a painfully inadequate seven weeks?

Why, I ask you?

And then . . . you leave me alone again. To suffer companionless in this foreign land.

And I begin again the arduous countdown of your return.

Why must love be so cruel?

Alas, it is pointless to torture myself now by thinking of your impending departure.

Allow me these seven weeks of contented bliss.
Allow me these seven weeks to drown myself in the heavenly taste of your sweet nectar.

My dear Rosita.

My precious Nicaraguan mango.

How I adore you.

It Happened Like This - A Lesson about Dogs and Development

I live in this motel-style apartment "complex" in Estelí. And the central figure of this narrative is one of my neighbors who happens to be a fellow Canadian. Ralph.

So as it turns out the people who take care of this apartment complex where we live had a dog. Apparently they had this dog for more than 10 years.

And they absolutely adored the dog.

I say had a dog, because about six weeks ago the animal died. 

They even had a funeral for the dog. (Kinda rare around here. Sadly, dogs don't get a lot of respect.)

And, supposedly the employees cried their eyes out when they buried the dog.

My neighbor attended the funeral and was really touched by the whole episode.

"You know what I'm going to do Walter?"

"What's that, Ralph?" I replied.

"I'm going to look around and find a dog to replace that one that died. You should have seen those people CRY!"

"Better yet," continued Ralph, "I'm going to go one better. I'm gonna buy those distraught souls two dogs" he blurted out exhuberantly.

And off he went.

And just like he said, the following week two dogs showed up that he found in another Nicaraguan city (Granada).


Here's where things get interesting. 

The employees didn't want the two new dogs.

They didn't want anything to do with the dogs.

In fact, they hated the new dogs.

"Who's going to take care of them?" I heard them say. It wasn't a pretty picture.

Visibly upset, poor Ralph had to contact the animal shelter in Granada and ship the dogs back.

I share this story because it is a wonderful analogy for what can happen here in Nicaragua.

Well-meaning, kind-hearted foreigners come to the country, and see what they think is a problem and decide to do something about it.

Here's the kicker. They don't consult with the people involved before they activate their action plan.

What's the result?

Some bad feelings. Wasted energy.

And in this case . . .  a couple of very confused dogs.

An Ode to Masaya

I miss my dear city of Masaya.

Oodles and oodles. (Look that one up my dear "pioneers.")

This is the Nicaraguan city that welcomed me with open arms in August 2008 when I first arrived as an old youngster eager to change the world.

Last year I left as a slightly older youngster to live in the North of Nicaragua. First in Matagalpa (about four months), and then Estelí -- six months and still counting.

Nothing wrong with those places. Nothing at all. Biggest plus is the climate up there. It's much more suitable to my Canadian blood.

And let me tell you that there's plenty not to like about Masaya:

• It's darn hot.
• It has more mosquitoes.
• There is more dust. 
• There is more garbage on the street.
• And, it's noisy.

But you're beautiful Masaya.

And I love you.

And I'm thinking of coming back home.

It's Complicated

One of my priorities this year for BECA is to work on the sustainability of the organization. 

This is a buzzword one hears often in development circles. It can mean different things to different people.

Here's my working definition: BECA will continue along fine enough if I'm hit by a truck.

The reality is that right now, we're very far away.

And I accept complete responsibility. It hasn't been my focus up to this point. Nevertheless, if a development newbie were to ask me for advice, I would tell them to make this implicit in every decision they make from the very beginning.

So, while I'm a little late to the sustainability game, my plan this year is to do my darndest to see what I can figure out.

Case in point. Last night, I met for the second time with the Estelí Rotary Club ("Los Rotarios"). This is a group of 8 to 10 local business people who are committed to local service projects.

And they are a nice, very welcoming group of people.

Three of us made a presentation to them two weeks ago. Our mission: to convince them to get involved with BECA in some way. We presented two ideas; i) that they organize homestays for students coming to study from outside the city, and ii), that they form an advisory board.

Last night they told me what they thought.

"Walter, we are going to apply to Rotary International in the United States for financial support for scholarships."

"What about the homestay idea?" I replied.

"Well, that is complicated. And it really isn't in our culture to do that."

Huh?

It's complicated?

I'm starting to realize what I'm up against here.

It isn't indifference. After all, these well-meaning people graciously serve their community with no hint of compensation.

But it is a tendency to expect the gringos, or europeans, or martians for that matter to come to the rescue and solve their problems.

And it isn't completely their fault. The well-meaning do-gooder organizations -- including BECA -- can share the blame for not working hard enough to include local actors in their projects.

Bottom line. I know they agree with me when I tell them that when a young, ambitious Nicaraguan from the country comes to BECA for an opportunity to study but needs a helping hand with accommodation, the last thing she wants to hear is:

"Sorry. We can't help you with that. It's complicated."

It Happened Like This

 . . . very early one brisk February morning in Estelí, Nicaragua.

"Good morning," says the papaya-seeking Gringo approaching María, a middle-aged street vendor busy cutting up fruit in her street corner kiosk.

"The same to you," replies María.

Stepping in closer to inspect the fruit on display, he notices a dog lying passively beside María.

"Nice dog, it's a doberman, right?" probes the Gringo.

"Yep," replies María. "But don't worry one bit, he's an absolute pussycat" not taking her eye off her fruit-cutting.

"Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't hurt a fly," María confirms in a soothing voice.

"Great!" Feeling a little bit more at ease, the Gringo steps in closer to pet the animal.

"GUAU GUAU GUAU!!!"  (loud Spanish barks and growls)

Alarmed he jumps back thinking that maybe the dog doesn't care much for foreigners.

Looking over to María, he asks, "By the way, what's your dog's name?"

María looks up from her fruit smiling innocently.

"Rambo."

"Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering" replies the Gringo walking away . . .

The Good Hands People of BECA

These are the people that I have been trying not to work with in Nicaragua.

Those that have been following along know that my resolution for 2012 is to not stick my nose in as much as I usually do with BECA's operations.

It isn't easy.

And not because the BECA team lacks competence.

It's because it is such a wonderful experience watching these young, enthusiastic people grow into their roles and exceed my expectations.

And who wants to miss that?

If I could only learn to keep my mouth shut more often and enjoy the view. :)

Snobs and School

From my letter in the BECA February Newsletter. You can subscribe here.

Point #1. The BECA program facilitates technical school scholarships. To those students that finish a six-month screening process, that is.

Point #2. Our marketing efforts to attract scholarship candidates in Masaya in January bombed. Only 20 applications. Our goal was 100.

Are points #1 and #2 related?

There is an argument that they might be. Here's how.

The reality is not that many kids finish high school in Nicaragua. Especially those that come from "el campo" (rural communities.)

My perception is that those that do finish believe that they deserve better than a "lowly" technical school.

It's understandable. Aren't we a little snobbish about universities vs. technical schools in Canada and the U.S. too? I believe we are.

So why should these young people be any different?

And why should they listen to some gringo who shows up and preaches to them that a technical school will serve them better? (And he went to university, too!)

For the record, after three years here I haven't changed my mind. I still believe very strongly that a technical school makes more sense.

I'm just not sure anymore if it is really up to me to make that decision for them.

Three Tech Gadgets I Can't Live Without in Nicaragua

Some might say I lead a simple life.

But I can't do without these three tech indulgences.

1. Noise-canceling headphones. I've written about this before . And my opinion hasn't changed. I'd recommend them to anyone who needs occasional "quiet time" while in Nicaragua for an extended stay.

Don't get me wrong, the birds are nice at 5:30 in the morning.

But the neighbor's stereo system? I'll take my salsa with dinner, thank you very much.

2. Ipod. For listening to various podcasts, more than anything. Interesting how some voices can put you right to sleep.

3. Kindle. Originally a reluctant gift. Now a treasured keepsake. It still befuddles me how this thing can download a book anywhere I go in Nicaragua.

I mean anywhere.

Meanwhile, the cell phone is "out of service"! I consider this to be one of life's great mysteries.

Okay, make that a simple and unmysterious life.