(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?