We Like to Party

A while ago when I asked for writing ideas, Chad asked, "How is their approach to life different than Canadians'?" Since then, I've been trying to keep my eyes peeled for good examples that can demonstrate the way things are here. It's a little tricky on the one hand because everything is different, but also because there's a certain vibe here that's hard to describe.

One thing in particular had been on my mind for a few days and our week night guard, Juan, summed it up nicely last night: "¡En Nicaragua, hay siempre fiesta!" (In Nicaragua, there's always a party.) This was in response to my dumbfounded look when he explained that in Jinotepe, July and August are dedicated to the festival Santiago. Two months of parties! No wonder we keep hearing firecrackers and marching bands.

It's not necessarily that there's a specific special even going on every day, though there are a lot of those - like the soccer tournament outside our house last week. It's more that people are in the mood to celebrate! It's hard not to be, given the ubiquitous music and the fact that here, people actually use their front steps to sit on. They're always chatting with people sitting across the street and saying hi to people walking down it, which makes for a sense of comraderie or something that's pretty special. When I walk through the central park when it's particularly bustling, I really admire Nicaraguans; it would so easy to discouraged by the poverty and political problems, but they can always find something to celebrate!

Last night, dear Santiago was celebrated with - of course - dancing! John saw the stage on his way back from the gym so sauntered up to the central park to check things out. We followed the sound to the north-east corner of the park and found an crowd in the street surrounded by snacks and cotton candy. (Now that I think of it, I didn't notice any Toña banners. These things usually involve a little beer.) I wish I had some pictures, but the beauty of it is that there will be many more opportunities!

In any case, there was dancing. It wasn't just dancing, though. The groups of twenty-somethings who got up there one after another made the four of us stand in awed silence until I finally said, "We have no dancing skills whatsoever." It was amazing! I think it's so cool that, like I said when I went to the aerobics class, that catchy latin groove is so standard here. At home, that kind of butt-shaking and hep-swiveling would not have been part of an 8 PM all-ages show (it's dark here by then, by the way) but it's an integral part of the culture here! The problem for us is that everybody here, guys included, seems to have been born able to dance. If nobody taught them, who's going to teach us?