The Comfort Zone?-Esteli, Nicaragua

I have arrived at my final location. I will spend the next four weeks here in Esteli, Nicargua. I can´t believe it is already MARCH! Time is flying...and I am scared. Until yesterday....I was certain that I was not ready to come back to NY, to reality, to the stress and busy-ness of it all. Of course, there are things and people that I miss terribly...but I was settling in quite nicely to the simple lifestyle of the road and the children and the Central American way of life.

Those euphoric feelings have faded.

After 8 nauseating hours on a bus through the winding roads of Honduras, (many of those hours spent hovering over a toilet in the dark box of the bus bathroom), a night alone in a hotel, and 5 more hours on a sketchy bus the next day....I am spent. I was dropped in the middle of the road in front of a Texaco gas station at the edge of town. My instructions were to hop in a taxi and tell the man to take me to: Cafe Luz. There I would be able to ask someone to borrow their phone, call Steven (the director here), and he would walk over to meet me. The taxi driver had NO idea where Cafe Luz was and refused to try and find it. Panic was juuuuuuuuust about to take over, when I heard,

¨Leigh?¨
I fiercly turn around, ¨STEVEN??????¨
Laughing, ¨Yeah, you seemed a bit nervous via our email conversations, so I thought I should come wait for you here.

PHEW!

We take a taxi to my host family´s ¨house¨and I walk in ready to drop my bags and settle in for the next month. But, the accommodations are a bit....different...than at my other stops in Honduras and Guatemala. This is more like a hostel. A family run hostel, with 4 rooms for rent. I spot Emma, a 23-year old nanny from D.C., eating breakfast at the table. We exchange pleasantries and I am told that because she arrived yesterday she got the room with the bathroom and the TV. No biggie, I think to myself. I don´t really watch TV anyway...and I have lived with roommates for the past 8 years of my life, I have mastered the shared bathroom situation.

I am escorted to my ¨room¨...that resembles that of a jail cell. Edith, casually asks which bed I would prefer as she would like to change the sheets on just one of them. I point to one and she gets to work. Next, she is mopping the floors while I get to know Emma in the other room. Steven leaves saying he will return at 3 to pick us up for a quick orientation and a look about town. And we are left alone, to get ¨settled¨. I start to unpack some things and then ask to see the bathroom. We take a long walk down an open hallway lined with rocking chairs and enter into what looks like an old washroom. Behind wooden swinging doors is a toilet that looks like it was discarded from a grungy biker bar. The shower is even more revolting.

The internal pep talk begins: I can do this. I can do this. It´s not that bad. I will get used to it. It will be fine. It´s only 4 weeks. FOUR weeks. At least Emma is here. Leigh, quit being a baby!

The night consists of vegetable soup, apple tea, more bouts of stomach sickness, and being reprimanded for leaving my light on in my room...for all of 45 seconds. When retiring to my room and to bed, I find tiny roaches on my door frame but am too exhausted and weak to freak out. I sleep with my headtorch under the pillow and pray that I will sleep through the night.

I don´t. I wake up with an urge to run to the bathroom, throw the headtorch on and search in the darkness. I wake up sweating profusely with torch on and in hand?? I wake up talking in my sleep, delirious. But every time feeling drugged, so doze back into slumber.

Decide in the morning that I will not be able to make it to school and I need to rest. Steven agrees. Back home I would call in sick in a HEARTBEAT if I wasn´t feeling well (not that I am proud of this). But here, I haven´t missed a day. I have dealt with the most uncomfortable of situations in the bathrooms at the schools...most with no seats and def no running water. I am super dedicated to the work here and do not want to miss a minute. But I am too weak.

I decide to lie back down after breakfast and read. Edith barges in, turns off the light and says: ¨No mucho luz¨. If I want to read I can come outside to the rocking chairs and read there. Mind you, I have already been reprimanded for turning on the light early this morning in the bathroom.

I say that I am sorry, break down crying, and leave...to call Chris and vent.

I feel a bit bratty complaining about the conditions when I basically live like a QUEEN back home...but I am just not used to this. Copan was LUXURIOUS in comparison. And it was. I miss Copan. I miss Loly.

Esteli used to be a truck stop. The city is rough. There are no pretty buildings or a beautiful park. The streets all looks the same and there are tons of people and loud cars. No tourists. No gringos. This is what I signed up for...right?

I am anxious to see the project and will hopefully report back in a better state of mind.