Why Am I Here?

Why am I here?

I really don't mean that as the Catechism kind of question that would be answered by "Because God made me." I guess I am thinking more about why I am in Nicaragua at this moment of my life.

Annie Halverson posted an interesting article on Facebook about why people of all ages and financial means are living 'away'. In New Hampshire there were two descriptions of newcomers; They are "from away." and "flatlanders" Here, as in New Hampshire, 'away' can mean both time and space.

 In the article they mentioned the usual reasons- escape, cheaper, wanted a change, and so on. I wanted perfect, warm weather. I wanted a kind, easy place. I wanted something new. I wanted affordable dentistry. I wanted to swim everyday. I wanted fresh fruit and veggies delivered to my door daily. I wanted a neighbors who stopped by and chatted.

In my conversations around the pool with people who have  moved here from US, Canada, Europe, another, rather unexpected thing, comes up. Everyone gets around to kvetching about how slow it is to get things done here. Then, almost immediately, the mood switches and there is the updraft. How human interactions are. How life here stirs memories of the lost moments of childhood. Or, in younger people, a romantic notion of what life must have been when things were simpler.

I have been feeling this too. Only one friend I have here has a car. That includes both Nicas and immigrants. So, we walk, or take a taxi, or ride the bus. That makes life easier and more old fashioned. The electricity goes off sometimes and people's lives don't skip a beat. Families are still on the porch chatting in the evening breeze. You almost never get mail. Your electric bill is slipped under your door. You pay it at the bank or the post office or at the electric company. Neighbors going to pay their bills offer to take yours along. The annoying, couldn't they do this better, seemingly stupid routines are often remarkably humanly interactive. The pharmacy is an example. You take a number. You sit around sometimes for a long time with a lot of people who don't bug you, but will chat forever if you open the conversation. Then you go up to the counter and discuss what you want  and how much it costs and how many you want. (A lot of people are doing this for two Tylenol.) Then you wait for your name to be called by the caja lady. You go and pay her..more chatter. Then you get a slip and go sit down until your number is called and then you present your slip and get your purchase. Then you say goodby or kiss goodby to all your new friends.

Same deal goes for Claro where you buy the widget to connect you with the internet. You wait forever, but when you finally get into the right line and meet your person you talk about their families and friends and did you like the concert last night and you have their service for the rest of the day if that's what it takes to solve your needs.

For me, there is a richness here that I am trying to describe. It does remind me of childhood when my Mom didn't have her own car and we walked to school and the Bookmobile came, and the milk man, and the bakery truck, and we walked to church.

I have not at all committed to being an expat here. But I 'get' that I am being enriched by being here.