Mornings in Tonala’ begin at about 5:30 a.m. when the town loudspeaker makes the first announcements of the day.
You might actually wake up earlier, if you don’t sleep through the roosters’ crowing.
The announcements consist of
 |
| Coo coo, random cat, Jack |
births, deaths, who is selling what, local events, etc.
They continue throughout the day.
Sometimes the mass is blasted over the loudspeaker.
Often, one of Christine’s neighbors will also play their radio at full volume starting at 5:30 – A.M., because they believe in sharing their joy.
The Nicaraguans love music and noise and just general loudness.
They believe if you are quiet then you must be sad.
I am convinced, based on the level of decibels that the Tonala’ residents create, that they are a very happy people.
Tonala’ is a small rural village in northern Nicaragua, about 40 minutes south of the Honduran border.
It is a rather economically poor, but culturally rich community.
As poor as it is, it definitely has a Nicaraguan charm to it, which Christine has completely embraced. Many of the residents are sugar cane or plantain farmers. Some sell tortillas or vegetables for a living or pedal a tricyclero that can give you a lift to the bus station, or if you are running late, a lift to school with your American aunt.
The last morning we were at Christine’s home, we had a rather typical morning.
Christine went outside with her broom at 5:30 and, like all of her neighbors, began to sweep clean her dirt yard.
Nicaraguans take significant pride in keeping their yards clean.
This particular morning, two of her neighbors’ pigs wandered into the yard.
As I ran to capture this moment on film, the pigs ran down the street.
Christine told me they would be back, because the dogs (Moco, Dumbo and Coo Coo) would chase them back to their own home.
Sure enough, when the dogs took notice they chased after the first pig, squealing, barking and racing down the street.
The second pig cowered across the street, trying to keep the dogs from seeing it – to no avail. I mean, it was a pretty BIG pig.
This one they chased in a circle around Christine’s entire house, while I scrambled to slam the door, foregoing my photo op, as I was afraid they would run into the house. Then, the bread man rode by with four choices of bread.
We picked the cheese one, which was delicious with our fresh pineapple.
Christine boiled coffee, which I totally appreciated, and strained it into our cups.
It was delicious con leche. I am so over my Starbuck’s addiction (I can tell you about the 12-step program if you’re interested)! She then fed the three dogs, only one of which is hers, and the three cats, again, only one is hers, and we headed out to the primary school.
Christine lives directly across from the secondary school, so we saw all the high school students walking the other way, dressed in their crisp, white school shirts and blue skirts or pants.
The Nicaraguans are meticulous in the way they dress and make a great effort to always have bleached white shirts. We usually walked to school, but this morning all the pig excitement made us late, so Christine waved down a tricyclero who gave us a ride to school. We arrived just in time, which is a little vague in Tonala. (Go ahead, say it.
‘You must have fit right in, Ceil.’) Mornings in Tonala’ are unique to the culture of small towns in Nicaragua and were really a joy to experience, despite the cacophony, because I loved seeing and feeling and hearing what Christine’s daily life in Nicaragua is like.
No comments:
Post a Comment