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.