Happy Birthey Queli!

Demasiado. Too much. That's all I could say yesterday, as I was so overwhelmed by birthday love. I've spent my past four birthdays at Bowdoin, surrounded by friends and teammates, usually waking up by 5:45 to get to the locker room and suit up for 6:30am practice, brunch, nap, practice again, and asleep by 10 or 11. One year fitness testing landed right on my birthday. Just what I always wanted! I was sad to be so far away from all of that but I wasn't expecting anything this year, just happy to be able to see all the girls and coaches that night for activities. The day began as all my others do with a bowl of oatmeal around 8:30, and then I had to finish making ticket envelopes for each girl on my team because that night we were doing "Cambios" when the girls get to exchange their attendance points for donated items in our bodega (cleats, balls, sneakers, bags, shorts, jerseys, shin guards, socks, water bottles, notebooks, pencils/pens, or other school supplies) Each time a girl comes to activity or practice, she gets one point (in the form of a ticket) and then can 'buy' whatever she wants with her tickets. I brought the materials down the street to the hotel where I usually do work, and opened my inbox to some very nice birthday emails from my family. I finished up putting the right number of tickets in each individual envelope around lunch time, and then went to my favorite café, "Claudia's" where you can get an entire plate of food (chicken, rice, beans, plantains, and a small salad) and your choice of homemade fruit juice all for 50 cordobas. ($2.10) Pretty amazing. Afterwards I headed home to get ready for our game at 3. (Not an Estrella game. I've been practicing and playing with the Fútbol Sin Fronteras veteran team and we had a game against the only other female team in the area Real Sultana) However, it was raining and when it rains here the Nicas don't dare leave their houses for fear of catching a cold, which all our neighbors love to warn us about when they see the crazy gringas strolling down the street in the rain. Real Sultana didn't show up, but we had about 10 girls and decided to just scrimmage amongst ourselves. It was a blast, and we all left the field drenched in some combo of rain and sweat. I had to rush back and shower before the girls started showing up for the activity. Larkin told me I had to stay in my room until 5:15, so I knew something was up her sleeve. I snuck downstairs and outside without ruining any apparent surprise so I could at least hang out with the girls who arrived early before activities. I was greeted by Joseling Palacios, one of my girls with the best attendance to date. She's very quiet, but very sweet and well-behaved and wouldn't hurt a fly. "Feliz cumpleaños Kelly!" she said and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Gracias Joseling!" I said, shocked that she even knew it was my birthday. Then she pulled out a note she had written for me, decked out with glitter glue and her impeccable handwriting, and a lollipop. I nearly welled up, and hadn't even read what she wrote yet. 

Translated it reads: "Kelly I'm sorry for not giving you a gift. I can only give you my friendship because I don't have money. Congratulations for your birthday! If I had money, I would give you things of value. Your friendship means a lot to me. I love you very much."

I hugged her again, and had to go back inside so I wouldn't cry in front of her. I was simply overwhelmed with emotion. Incredibly touched by her kindness and the time and effort she put into writing me a birthday card, and incredibly sad that she felt that it wasn't enough. It was more than enough, and I will try to explain that when I write her a thank you note. 

That was just the start of an incredible night. When the Estrellas were called to go upstairs (we always have our activities on the 3rd floor) I was told to stay downstairs and wait for any stragglers to show up. Helen explained to me that they decided to change up the activity because so many girls came, so we were going to have half the group while Techo and Flaca had the rest. We climbed the stairs and near the top I realized all the lights on the 3rd floor were off. I thought maybe they changed their minds AGAIN and decided to put on the movie. Instead, the lights flipped on when I arrived and my entire team threw balloons in the air, screamed FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS! and enveloped me in a giant group hug. Rosa was holding a cake, and then so politely smeared the frosting all over my face. I received about 20 more equally heartfelt birthday notes. Many of them tried their darndest to write it in English, and spell my name correctly, but hence the title of this post they mixed up a few letters here and there. I've never seen my name spelled so many different ways: Kelly, Kely, Keli, Queli, Quilin (?))

Demasiado. It was an incredible feeling, and nothing I would have ever expected after having only worked with these girls for a month and a half. But wait, there's more! Larkin, the best boss a girl could ask for, had made an entire powerpoint presentation for the girls all about ME- Complete with baby pictures, youth soccer pictures, and a ton of pictures from Bowdoin. She spun it to fit with the Inspiración theme, and each slide shared a picture and a piece of information about my life and the "inspiring" things I have accomplished. The girls loved seeing pictures of me when I was about their age (in my Destiny uniform with some pretty embarrassing half pigtails) and loved learning more about me in general since I have basically spent this whole time trying hard to get to know them, and not sharing very much about myself. Afterwards, they split into groups to complete a trivia challenge of facts about me from the slideshow (another work of Larkin's) We ate cake, exchanged attendance points, and I got a giant hug from each girl on her way out. My heart was exploding out of my body.

Later that night, Techo and Flaca joined us at Larkin's house for dinner, drinks, and some games and it was the perfect ending to the day.

"Solo los guapos" as Flaca always says. "Only the good-looking people"

I'm a lucky gal.

Amor, paz, y fútbol

KPope

P.S. Happy Birthday Mom! I love you

Goosebumps

"It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living." ~F. Scott Fitzgerald

I found this quote during my inspiration search the other day (see last blog post), and not only do I really like it in terms of thinking about the little ways I can do my part to help these girls but it reminded me very much of last Saturday morning. Instead of having our normal practice, Techo organized a tournament for the girls. The Estrellas split up into two teams, an A squad and a B squad, and played in a small round robin against two other teams in the area- a boys squad, and a co-ed team. Helen and I were coaching the Estrella A team together, and Flaca and Techo took the B-team. They were up first against the co-ed "Águilas" (Eagles) coached by a guy named Tico who is a youth coach in the area. We sat on the sidelines and cheered them on, and got mentally focused for our game coming up next against the same boys team that we faced a few weeks ago (and lost 3-0). The Estrellas B lost 1-0 by a questionable goal, but came off the field with their heads held high. Our game started a few minutes after and thankfully I didn't have to be the referee this time around (or more likely, I was fired from that job). It was back and forth through most of the first half, both sides getting shots off on net but neither able to capitalize. The boys are still excellent floppers and cry babies in case you were wondering.

I've heard many times that you won't remember the wins, and losses, and specific games so much as you will remember your teammates and the memories that you make together off the field. While I agree, I can pinpoint several athletic moments on the field, court, or track that left me with goosebumps and a lasting vivid memory of that moment in time. Here are a few of my goosebump moments:

• Beating Nobles 49-48 at the buzzer my junior year of Red Dogs basketball (for the first and only time ever)
• Playing Cushing under the lights on Porter field, and Guidi's OT goal to let us advance to the semi finals of the New England championship
• Losing to Thayer, but breaking the school 4x4 relay record with Abby, Trav, and Alanna
• Kit Hamley's perfect loft over the head of the Midd keeper to make a 1-0 game sophomore year
• Celeste's goal in the last minute of play to force OT against Bates senior year
• Pop's header to go up 1-0 against Williams, and going on to tie them (it was a big deal)
• Ellery's OT goal against Trinity senior year, and the ensuing rush of the field
• Ellery's two goals in the infamous blizzard game against Amherst in the quarterfinal NESCAC game

There are plenty more (mostly following the Ellery and OT trend, shocker) and I thought those "glory days" per se were over. But I got the goosebumps again on Saturday, and it's pretty hard to get goosebumps in 90 degree Nicaragua heat so it was a pretty big deal. Towards the end of the second half, our star forward Johanna Nadieska Mendieta Ortega ripped a shot on net from the right side that deflected off a defender's shins and into the back left corner of the net. I was paralyzed for a moment, not entirely sure the ball had gone in because it was hard to see from my angle, but when Johanna turned around with her arms waving in the air and a smile that spread past her ears it was pretty easy to tell. The boys fought harder for the rest of the game, trying desperately to earn back a goal so they didn't have to live with the fact that they were losing to GIRLS. But they lost. It was a glorious day for the Estrellas.

I have to give the spotlight to Johanna for a hot minute. 

She is the smiliest, and most mature thirteen year old I have ever met. She always greets me with, "Hi Kelly, how are you?" (in English) eager to practice what she's learning, and a giant hug. She's confident but not cocky, a quiet leader that leads by example and the whole team notices. She has a big competitive edge and always pushes her teammates to be better. The rest of the group looks up to her not only as a player but as a friend. She has amazing soccer skills, passion and compassion, and maturity without losing her fun-loving side. She's beautiful inside and out, and I know she's going places in life. Hell, she gives me goosebumps even without scoring a game winning goal to beat the boys.

I love my job.

Amor, paz, y fútbol

KPope

Words for the Birds

I have been looking for quotes all morning (where is Lucy Morrell when I need her?) to try to grasp a more concrete understanding of this season's theme that the coaches decided on a few weeks ago: "Inspiration." It's a nice word, with a positive implication behind it and I think it's a great theme to have the girls focus on, reflect on, and discover ways in which they can be inspirations as well as have inspirations and pursue them. Granted we are still just introducing the season and the theme to the girls, and still getting through rules and goal-setting, I feel that our activities in the past few weeks have lacked a strong connection to this greater theme. It's hard for me to pick out lessons and tangible concepts that the girls have learned through the activities. I want to change that this week, but as I sat and thought about a good activity to help them grasp "Inspiration", I realized I don't really have a good grasp of it myself. I know what inspiration is, but I am unsure what our team's concrete end goal is. 

Concreteness, or lack thereof, is something I have been grappling with for a little while now. Last week, I was assigned five girls to discuss individual goal-setting with and sign their participant agreements, which states their personal goal, team goal, and the specific steps they promise they will take to achieve those goals. (Very Maren-esque) I have done this type of goal-setting and creating a specific plan for achievement throughout my entire life. I was expecting this process to be something I was very familiar with and very capable of facilitating, but instead it was another eye-opener to the effects of the Nicaraguan educational system and another puzzling way of doing things. On Thursday night, before splitting up into smaller groups the team voted on a common goal that they wanted to achieve this season. The previous Tuesday, they had brainstormed four options for this team goal; 1. Apoyar a las compañeras (support each other) 2. Cuidar los materiales de las Estrellas (take care of the team materials) 3. Respetar a los entrenadores (respect the coaches) and 4. Inspiración para el equipo (Inspiration for the team) Options 1,2, and 3 had a few votes each but the majority of girls voted for number 4. Inspiration for the team. I wasn't even really sure what that meant, and it hadn't been fleshed out or discussed either. Similar to the decision for the season theme the Nicas opted for this fluffy, pretty-sounding theme without thinking in depth or discussing the nitty-gritty of what it actually means. I've learned that the American school system's focus on critical thinking skills and self expression is by no means a universal focus, rather a unique privilege that I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to experience. Nicaraguan education consists entirely of the teacher lecturing and the students recording. Memorization without question, and no space for original thought or personal opinion. No space for personal opinion to even develop. So Thursday night,  Hasly (pronounced Ashley), Margarita, María Alejandra, Vilmania, Lupe and I read through the paragraph at the top of the goals sheet that said among other things, "I promise to put my best effort forward in reaching my individual and team goals. I understand that my individual goal is something personally important to me, and it can be related to education, family, or community." I was confused when I got five blank stares. Margarita spoke up, "Qué debo escribir para mi meta personal?" (What should I write for my personal goal?) I told her again, it can be anything that you think is important to you! The others struggled with how to fill it out too, as if there were a right and wrong answer. I explained that there was no wrong answer, and finally Hasly wrote down that she wants to do well in all her classes this year in school. The other four copied her. They all wrote down the same steps to achieve that goal, and the same steps to achieve the team goal and were handing over their sheets for me to sign before I could try to stir up some discussion about what "Inspiration for the team" means to them. More than any other feeling towards the events of that night, I felt sad that they have never been given the opportunity to think for themselves, and therefore don't know how. 

As I sit here and search for quotes to help me delve into the subject further, I'm realizing that it would be silly to look for more words to fill their heads with. I have been inspired to pursue this work by the actions of others. I didn't choose to spend my first year out of college in a developing country and work for no pay because of anything that anybody said to me. I choose to be here and doing what I'm doing because of the ways that Larkin inspired me while she was my captain and mentor at Bowdoin with her ability to make everybody around her feel like an incredible human being and seeing the world of change she brought to this organization and the participants in her short year of living in Granada. I choose to be here because of the ways in which all my coaches and trainers (Maren, LG, Ash, OC, Mr. and Mrs. Kings, Boulais, McLain, Mr. Weir, Mr. Gerry, Mr. Pick, Mr. Hartnett, and more) have helped me grow as a person and realize my potential not only as an athlete but more so as a human being, with the ability to think and express myself. I choose to be here because I am inspired by the actions of my mentors to be a mentor to others, because for me there has been no greater gift. I know that if nothing else, I am good at what I'm doing because I have had such incredible people to show me the way. I don't need to find a quote to help me express that.

This week the Estrellas are going to define inspiration as a group by writing letters to the people in their lives that have inspired them, and highlight the admirable qualities and actions of these people that have sparked their inner fire and pushed them to be a better version of themselves. I think understanding what it means to be inspired is a crucial step in being able to inspire others.

Thank you for helping me understand that step so well :)

Amor, paz, y fútbol

KPope

GUBFL shoutout

So I graduated at the end of May. Senior week was a great time. I was sad for it all to be ending, but I never really experienced that walloping punch to the stomach of realization that college was over. Up until now, this has felt like all my other summers. I had a great month at home and I've been incredibly fortunate to have this opportunity here, but recently my brain finally absorbed the truth that I am an alumna. Not a student. I will never, ever again be living within a half mile radius of all my best friends nor will be able to have slumber parties every night. This is the start of the rest of my life.

This truth has been exacerbated by a few different things. First, right now my entire team is in Maine reuniting and spending a few days pre-preason relaxing and dreading the fitness test in good company and I wish more than anything I could be there. Second, my little brother left for football preseason of his freshman year of college a week and a half ago. He has been telling me about his roommate, his new teammates, and the grueling practices. I refuse to believe that my freshman year of preseason was really four years ago. It feels like yesterday that I spent my first night in Winthrop 201 with Ellery and Anna, that I met tired and spacey Celeste who had just stepped off a red eye flight from Berkeley (before I realized she is spacey all the time) and that we along with Becka, Amy, Claire, Rachel, and Taylor suffered through our first college preseason together. The following weeks, months, and years are some I won't forget as long as I live. I won't forget rushing the field after OT or PK shootout victories, I won't forget rallying around our teammate and best friend when she lost her mom after a long battle with cancer, I won't forget covering our coach's house in caution tape, plastic forks, and an inflatable stork purely out of love, I won't forget the "Soccer Benefit Dinners", and I definitely won't forget Sunday Fundays in various basements. The second half of August is always a time of anxiety (beep) and excitement to move back to Bowdoin, our beloved home, and see each other's tanned and smiling faces.

This year is different. This year, my anxiety and excitement exist on the other side of things; the coaching side. This second half of August, I am filled with battling emotions just as before. I want to know my players inside and out, I want to be a listening ear, a good role model, and a reliable and trustworthy figure in the midst of their tumultuous lives. I know I must be patient and that it will take time to gain their complete trust and respect, but I am anxious that I won't have substantial time to make an impact. I want to see them grow individually, and grow together as a unit in the way that my own teammates became my family and the way I grew leaps and bounds as an individual thanks to all of them. The competitive side of me wants to see them win! I want to beat each and every boy's team we come across because I know we have the potential and I know what good that could do for their confidence. I feel I have a lot that I want to achieve in a limited amount of time. Anxiety and excitement, just like every other August.

But this year is different. This year, I am not moving back to Brunswick with Ellery and Celeste to kick off another incredible GUBFL season. This fall there won't be tailgates after games, hotel overnight trips, Hot Seat on the bus, or locker room shower dance parties. I won't be hanging my uniform up next to Toni's, I won't be having long life chats in Blossy's car or Stacie's couch, I won't be listening to Caro's jams, or doing walk of shames home from S3. I won't get to see the sophomores become upperclassmen leaders, or the freshmen take the new freshies under their wing. My F.ear O.f M.issing O.ut (FOMO) is at an all time high. I am realizing more than ever how important my teammates are and have been in my life, and what Go U Bears For Life actually means. 

This year I am incredibly fortunate to be working with one of my GUBFL teammates, Larkin, and I have new teammates: Mady, Techo, Flaca, Helen, Hassell and César. Together, we have new challenges that I have never faced before. We will disagree, argue, support each other and have a blast together all year. We will grow individually and as a team, and we will work together to achieve a common goal of creating a safe space for our participants to grow and play together. Last Saturday, Techo created a fitness drill that the Estrella's had to complete. I watched them sweat, dig out the last sprint, cheer each other on, and chug water together in silence with an unspoken understanding and respect for each other. My heart swelled with a desire to be back at Bowdoin with my own team, doing exactly those things, as well as a realization that "team" is a pretty universal language, and there is nothing quite like it. 

My life is different now. Yet, it hasn't changed all that much. During these next few days, I will be thinking about my team back home suffering through preseason together and I will miss them and my old life immensely. But I plan to use all the lessons and memories I am left with from that experience to foster that incredible sense of team and family for the Estrellas. If I can achieve that, I will have done my job. I think I foresee some themed Team Jeopardy in their future. Maybe some sock-off. Vamos a ver :)

Amor, Paz, y Fútbol

KPope

Gringa Sucia

I have 23 mosquito bites...on my left leg alone. And 15 more on my right leg. I think they are enjoying my smell. Upon reflection of my five weeks here, I have come to the conclusion that I could be featured on that TLC show "Dirty Jobs." On paper, it doesn't seem like it should be terribly unsanitary. On the Soccer Without Borders website where it describes the internship position, it reads "Through the universal language of soccer, SWB interns immerse themselves in the communities where they work, learning, teaching and playing a key role in creating much needed opportunities for young people to play and learn. Team Leaders in Nicaragua work with young girls ages 7-20 who are members of the program's three teams." Learning, teaching, and creating opportunities. Nothing dirty about that. However, in fine print under the part of the job description where it says that interns will be living and working in Granada, Nicaragua it should really include a few things regarding other 'work' that the interns complete on a regular basis. I think I have overlooked all the gross things that happen here everyday because they are miniscule problems compared to what others face. I fazed them all out because at the end of the day, it was never a big deal, but now that I think about the dirty parts of this job I can put together a very long list. Here is a closer look at my daily life.

Mady and I are the only humans that live in Tres Pisos, but the number of other housemates we have is questionable. [Celeste, if you are reading this, I apologize for my cruelty in advance because I know "you love every bug and creature, except bed bugs because they're everywhere and you can't see them and they make babies and they're mysterious."] Our first night in the Tres, I counted four to five little geckos crawling around the walls, close to the ceiling. They are harmless little creatures that eat flies so while at first it was slightly alarming to see them in multiple places around the house, I have grown to love our geckos. The next least harmful housemates would have to be las cucarachas (cockroaches). They are not as good-looking as the geckos, plus they crawl on the floor rather than high up on the walls so they are more bothersome. But they are slow, big targets and easy to stomp so I don't mind when they show up every once and awhile either. Our smallest yet trickiest bunch of housemates are by far the hormigas (ants). We learned that we can't leave food sitting out in the kitchen for ANY length of time or the ants will emerge from wherever they live and have a feast. The other day Mady learned that even if you put food in a plastic bag, wrapped up, and inside the cabinet, the ants may still find it. She bit into a piece of bread that she had stored very well before she realized that the ants had infiltrated the bread bag. It was an impressive feat, so props to the ants even though I really despise how many of them there are and how they are covering almost every inch of the Tres, ready to pounce on leftovers. Moving on to the ratas (rats)- our housemates that have the power to make us scream and jump on top of furniture from a mere glimpse. The Nica coaches get a kick out of that when they see it happen. We're pretty sure there are two, and they live under the floorboards and get in and out through one of the many holes in our staircase. They like to pull trash out of our garbage while we're asleep and chow down in their fort under our stove. We haven't been successful in capturing one yet, but it'll be an exciting day if and when it ever happens.

 I thought the rats were the kings of the jungle that is Tres Pisos, the only creatures that could invoke fear in us, up until yesterday. Yesterday, after grocery shopping this morning, I came home and went up to my room to find a weird smell. I looked down and saw some poop smeared across my floor. I checked my flip flop and it appeared as if I had stepped in some dog poop and tracked it all the way inside up to my room. Angry at myself, I went out in the hallway to see how much cleaning I had to do. The hallway was spotless. I looked back inside my room and realized it must have just been sitting in my room and I stepped in it without seeing it, which unfortunately meant one of my housemates must have snuck inside somehow. I kicked my bed and saw a tail scurry into the corner. A rat. My immediate thought was to call Techo to have him come kill it for me, so I did. He laughed at me, said he was busy and wished me luck killing it myself. I called Mady upstairs for some assistance. We could see the dark shape of it's head in the corner, and so we got a bucket ready to try to capture it once we coaxed it out. Bravely, Mady pulled my mattress away from the wall in one swift movement which surely would make the rat scamper out. She started yelling, and jumped inside the bathroom with me where I had been hiding while all this was happening. "WHAT IS THAT?!" I was laughing so hard at this point, unsure of whether it was actually a funny situation or whether my classic nervous laugh reaction was working in full gear. "It's not a rat?" I asked her. I took a tiptoe step out of my bathroom to see what exactly was in the corner of my room. It was a giant, black, scaly lizard. We both screamed, and ran out to the hallway. Then, the next logical step was to take a picture.

The lizard still hadn't moved, and almost appeared to be stuck in between the wall and the box spring. I called Techo back, hysterically nervously laughing, barely able to speak and not even able to remember the word for lizard in Spanish. I looked it up in the dictionary while I was on the phone, un lagartija. "HAY UN LAGARTIJA EN MI CUARTO!" (There is a lizard in my room!) That was about all I could muster. Techo was laughing at me, I was nervously laughing uncontrollably, it was a mess. "Entonces, Kelly Maria?" he said. (So?) "So I need you to come kill it!!! Right now!" This time he agreed to come help. After an incredibly long 8 minutes, he showed up at our door with his best friend Tombo. Techo and Tombo (cherry berry ruchi pip perry pembo) nonchalantly strolled over to our storage area, grabbed two brooms, a rag towel and a bucket and shut themselves in my room for about 3 minutes. Mady and I anxiously waited outside my door, asking every 10 seconds, "Ya está muerto?" (Is it dead yet?) like young kids on a long car ride. When the door opened again, we saw that the guys had captured the lizard/dragon/dinosaur in the bucket and the whole way back downstairs they kept pretending to let it loose on us again. Real mature, guys. Once we got outside, Tombo picked up the lizard by the tail so we could get a good look, and then let it free a little ways down the street. You know its bad when cockroaches and rats are the least of your worries. And thank god for good help.

Tombo with his prisoner

These dirty things only scratch the surface of the dirtiness that is my job. All the aforementioned happen inside our living space. When we step outside, we are faced with a whole new set of dirty challenges. I learned that I should never spend too much time getting ready, and never be too excited about how clean I feel after a shower because once outside, sweat starts to pour out of every inch of my body. 90 degrees is the constant temperature here; at times there's a breeze, and at times it rains. Neither one cools you down, it's just hot wind and hot water. We are getting into the rainy season here so it will pour sheets and sheets of rain at some point each day. This happened one time at practice, and   turned this small brook of trash water that we cross on our way to the field into a raging trash river. (There is a giant pollution problem here, and almost every street is lined with watery sewage and all kinds of trash that join together in certain areas of the city to create these trashy streams-"arroyos" yum.) On our way home, we could either ford the river, caulk our wagon and try to float it across, or pay $5 to take the ferry (computer game reference for those who don't understand the joke) I chose to ford it, which essentially just meant me jumping into this raging polluted river up to my knees because there was no other choice. When I reached the other side, a centipede/worm type thing slithered out of the hole in the side of my cleat and went on its merry way. I got dysentery and had to rest for three days. (Computer game, again) 

When its sunny, I am constantly rocking a grimy sweat/sunscreen film that covers my skin. I hear it's bad for my pores. Plus, no matter how nice an outfit may look inside, the outline of back sweat that shows through clothes when you're outside sort of ruins the good appearance. Also, one day after having just showered and cleaned my room (I felt extra clean) I was walking to Larkin's house and a taxi sped through one of those trash puddles and completely splattered me. Back to my moral of the story, I learned to just accept being dirty all the time. It's kind of liberating once you get past the initial discomfort. Or maybe I'm just in denial. It always shocks me how pulled together and NOT sweaty Flaca, Helen and Hassell always look. Even the boys manage to clean up nicely. Flaca tells me I need to work on my fashión since I'm always in sweaty sports clothes, but I don't think I'd ever be able to pull off her beautifully powdered appearance 24/7 the way she does.

On Saturday, I was walking to morning practice with some of my Estrellas, and I was holding a bottle of sunscreen. Nicas are always curious about our different "products" and always want to sample some.  Jaqueling saw the sunscreen, and asked "Qué es eso?" "Bronceador," I said. She held out her hand for me to squirt a little bit of it on there. Before applying it, she smelled it. "Ahh, sí. Se huele como un gringo sucio," meaning, "Oh yeah, it smells like a dirty American." I got a kick out of that one. Personally, I have always enjoyed the smell of sunscreen but I have to admit Jaqueling's description of the smell was pretty spot on. I guess it gives me comfort in the sense that even if I can't nail down a clean look, I'm not the only dirty American they've ever met.

On that note, who wants to come visit??

Amor, paz, fútbol, y lagartos

KPope

One of my cleaner nights for sure- Mady (above), my fellow jungle trekker, and Larkin Brown my one and only jefa (boss) Typical pic.

P.S. An unrelated confession: I have been 'cooking' plain oatmeal with a bit of honey for myself for almost every meal I have eaten at home, breakfast lunch or dinner. Occasional eggs or pasta here and there. After grocery shopping, I had oatmeal with sliced bananas for breakfast, and egg and chorizo burrito with veggies for lunch, and a pasta salad with fried plantains for dinner. Look at me goooo! 

Kelly Maria Auxiliadora Asunción Guadamuz Sanchez

My nickname has grown. Every day Flaca and Techo tack on a new name to the end. So now I have four first names and two last names, which actually isn't very uncommon here. Most people have at least two first names, and at least two last names (for each of their parents) When women get married they keep their names and then their children take both names, so if we had the same system in the US I would be Kelly Jeanne Pope Chabot. I tried to explain that to the coaches when they asked me what my other last name was, but then they gave me two new ones anyways. My relationships with each of them continue to grow each day, but I learned my first lesson in striking a balance between friendships and effective work relationships on Tuesday.

Monday evenings we have our weekly staff meeting in Tres Pisos where we address our to-do list, determine a theme for the week, and then we break out into  our smaller team groups to plan activities and practices. For the past few weeks, these break out sessions have consisted of Techo and Flaca speaking mumbled Spanish at a million miles an hour, while Helen throws in a "sí" every now and then or "está buennnno", while I sit there silently and desperately try to follow what they're planning. But usually afterwards I make Flaca explain it all over again to me, slower and with diagrams. This Monday, I made my first contribution! We decided the theme for the entire season is "Inspiration" for which we can develop a ton of sub-themes to help the girls both find their own inspirations and think about ways in which they can inspire others. Our activities this week were geared towards introducing this greater theme to the girls before we dive into sub-themes in the coming weeks. Techo mentioned that he had a video he could show the girls that features a lot of famous soccer players telling their stories and talking about their inspirations but it was only half an hour long and we needed to fill the whole hour and a half. After having studied my SWB flash drive full of activity and practice ideas that we received in Boston during orientation, I remembered a game called "Reach out and touch someone who..." where a list of statements are read to a group that all start with this first phrase. For example, reach out and touch someone who makes you laugh, reach out and touch someone who is a good listener, reach out and touch someone who you respect and trust, etc. Everybody stands in a circle with their eyes closed, and someone stands in the middle for each statement that is read, and then touches whoever she feels best fits that statement. I mentioned this exercise to the group with the intention of it being a way to both highlight many of the different ways in which one can inspire others, as well as provide affirmation that they have significant impacts on each other. The coaches agreed that it would go over well. I voiced my one concern that I don't want it to be a negative experience if somebody doesn't get touched at all during this exercise and I suggested that maybe while their eyes are closed, the coaches could go around and touch some of the girls that are left out. They disagreed, saying that it would be good for the girls who aren't touched to do some self reflection about why they don't impact their teammates. Pretty harsh. Techo, Flaca, and Helen are not cold-hearted people by any means but they are products of the Nicaraguan educational system which is built entirely on negative reinforcement. It is really unfortunate aspect of personal development here, and a large part of my job is not only empowering young girls to succeed but also empowering these young coaches to take ownership of their roles as leaders and to help them develop leadership skills so that one day this program can be run entirely by people within the community.

I felt I had adequately expressed my concern, and my desire to make sure everyone feels included and better about their self-worth rather than worse. Despite feeling like we were all on the same page, Tuesday night came and the activity went directly down the path that I was afraid of. During our debrief of the activity (which up until that point had gone smoothly) Techo, Flaca and Helen asked the girls who were touched 3 times or more to share how the experience made them feel. Those girls were naturally very 'touched' (no pun intended) that their team had so much respect for them in all walks of life. However, then they asked the girls that weren't touched at all to share their feelings about it. This information which was supposed to be somewhat confidential (hence everybody closing their eyes) was made very public and presented in a way which left me with a pit in my stomach for the rest of the night. Only one girl raised her hand when they asked who wasn't touched. Anyeli Rodríguez; she isn't the best player, but definitely not the worst. She comes almost every night to activities, and participates, and behaves well, and isn't the most outspoken girl but is always there, and I think she just got lost in the shuffle of this activity. The coaches pushed further, "And how do you feel about the fact that you weren't touched?" She hesitated to respond. "Good? Bad?" "Igual," she finally answered, which means "the same." If negative reinforcement in schools teaches nothing else, it's resilience. She didn't even look upset, though I'm sure she had to have been and she put on an incredibly brave face despite being called out in front of the entire group. I wanted to run over and hug her, but didn't want to draw even more attention to her. We were about to move on to watch the video, but I wanted to say one more thing to try to salvage my terrible guilty feeling that I should have seen something like this coming and let it happen anyways, and probably hurt this girl's feelings very much. I tried to emphasize in very shaky Spanish since I couldn't think very well at this point that it doesn't matter how many times you were touched or not touched, but that the important thing to remember is that there are so many ways to be an inspiration to others and everybody has the potential to find what that is inside them and share it with others. It was a weak attempt to fix the debacle, but I tried.

I couldn't shake my uneasy feeling for the rest of the night, and it was hard to put on a good face when Techo came to trivia night with us after activities. He was being his normal, joking self and I could barely crack a smile. How could such a good guy with such a big heart just crush that girl's feelings? Despite my growing friendships with these coaches, I have to let those fly to the wind and find a way to express myself when I disagree with their tactics in a more forceful way when the girls' happiness and confidence are at stake. The great thing about Fútbol Sin Fronteras, apart from the team aspect, is providing these girls a different way of learning than the one they receive in schools, full of positive reinforcement and creativity and the opportunity to express themselves in many different ways. I can't fault the Nicaraguan coaches for not having an innate ability to recognize the difference since they went through the same school system, but I must work harder to point them down the right path in terms of achieving this organization's mission. For the record, I think they're doing an incredible job. I think I need to be less of a wimp when it comes to the tough stuff.

My next personal project will be going on house visits to get to know these girls better on an individual basis, get to know their parents, their stories, and just give them some individual attention which is hard at times during crazy activity nights with upwards of 70 girls in the office at a time. I think I will try to go to Anyeli's house first and stress how much I appreciate her presence, and how excited I am to be able to work with her, how I could learn a lot from her resilience, and how she has already impressed me to no end and it's only been a month.

I'm off to run tonight's activity now! Wish me better luck this time around, and for all the activity nights to come.

Amor, paz, y fútbol

KPope (Maria Aux. Asunción Guadamuz Sanchez)

True Colors

Well, the Estrellas lost their game on Friday. Not for lack of effort or talent, though. We won nearly every 50/50 ball and definitely out hustled the boy's team but a few defensive breakdowns and lucky shots on their part made it a 3-0 final score. I was asked to be the referee for the game, which I'm sure won't happen again because I failed miserably at being impartial. I managed to catch every sniff of a hand ball or deflection out of bounds by the boys team, while attributing any foul committed by the Estrellas to fair tackles or a boy's flop (a skill they have mastered). I found myself getting angrier and angrier with the boys for their cocky demeanor, and a lack of toughness. Twice, I had to stop play to make sure the boy rolling around on the ground in "pain" was okay, and twice the boys slowly got up and were sprinting down the field only seconds later. I reached my boiling point half way through the second half when a boy on their bench was taunting our arguably best player on the field saying, "Ganamos, ganamos! 3-0! Sos mala!" which translates to "We're winning, we're winning, 3-0, you're bad!" I cringed with anger, but my girl Johana ignored him and continued to dominate the offense without batting an eye about this boy and his shenanigans. She showed immense maturity, and I got the signal that I needed to take the high road as well in this situation even though I wanted very badly to put him in his place.

The Estrellas warming up for the big game!

The ways in which I learn from these girls on a daily basis are infinite, and it is no surprise to me how quickly they have entered my heart and are constantly on my mind. What is slightly surprising to me is how quickly I developed what I like to call my "boy shell". Reflecting on the past few weeks, I can easily pick out at least four separate occasions of which I deliberately and sometimes angrily excluded boys from activities in order to keep the attention and energy focused solely on the girls. Sometimes, it has been necessary: during gym classes at the schools, if we let the boys play games with us it would greatly decrease the number of girls who were willing to participate and get involved because they let their embarrassment and self-consciousness get the best of them. However, other times the exclusion of boys has been unnecessary and for inexplicable reasons. Maybe I am mad that the culture here fosters such low self-confidence in girls in all aspects of life, but if that is the case I think I am taking it out on the wrong people. Regardless, my boy shell has very much been a factor in the way I go about my work here.

That was up until Saturday. Across the street from Tres Pisos, there are two solid stucco houses next to each other with a small alley in between them. From the third floor balcony, you can see that through that alley way is a dilapidated tin shack and some clothes lines. A family lives back there, and two of the girls are participants in FSF. Their cousin, Erick, who is about 12 also lives there and he is one of our neighbors who is always playing out front on our stoop with a small crew of neighborhood kids. He is very eager to ring our doorbell, see what we're up to and what games we want to play, or he asks to borrow a ball...all the time. It can be annoying, especially when we have some free time and are trying to squeeze in a nap. My boy shell has made it very difficult for Erick to get on my good side. Saturday night was more of the same; Mady and I had just made a pasta dinner and were sitting down to eat when the doorbell rang and it was Erick. It was raining out and he was wet and cold so we let him come in and hang out. He came in, examined every item we had laying out in the kitchen (sunscreen, bugspray, hand sanitizer, etc) and asked, "Que es eso?" (What is that?) over and over and over. He moved on to playing hangman with us on our whiteboard, and then to playing with some bobblehead Marta dolls that were donated. His favorite word is, "Mira!" which means "Look!" and he uses it nonstop when we're hanging out, always trying to show us what he's doing. We got the sense that he doesn't get much attention at home since he is always in our house and always craving our attention. We asked him a little bit about his family, and sure enough he comes from a very rough situation. His father is out of the picture, he lives with his grandfather, uncle, aunt and cousins in their tiny tin home and his mother lives next to them but not in the same house. We didn't push for the reason to why he doesn't live with his mother, but we learned later that she often beats him and his sisters. After we finished eating, we had a bit of pasta left and asked if he wanted some. He took the bowl and began shoveling the food into his mouth. Pausing at times only long enough to say "Gracias" in between chewing. We also gave him a cup of juice, and he had barely finished the last sip and bite before we was at the sink vigorously scrubbing his dishes. He was so grateful, so respectful, and so harmless that I felt terrible for all those times I was annoyed with the doorbell. He had cracked my boy shell, and made me realize that they are children in need just the same. While I will continue to pour all my energy and efforts into my girls and creating a safe space for them to grow and play without the pressure of having boys around, I will always consider the look in Erick's eyes when we handed him that bowl of pasta to finish and remember that boys are not immune to suffering and that being narrow-minded in the ways I can help people here would be a waste of time.

On a completely separate note, I ended up at a karaoke bar later that night with Techo and César and their friends from their barrio. What better way to completely shatter my boy shell than to experience a group of ten guys around my age belting out the lyrics to love ballad after love ballad? Some personal favorites of the night: Stand By Me (which the Nicas pronounce Esstand By Me and it cracks me up) by Ben E. King, Heroe by Enrique Iglesias, and True Colors by Cyndi Lauper. Who knew they were such softies? Softies with some vocal pipes for sure.

Can't wait to see what week five will bring.

Amor, paz, y fútbol

KPope

People that make the world go 'round

Los entrenadores (coaches) that I briefly mentioned in my last post need the spotlight for a hot second. They expend a lot of energy (for some, its after a long day of work at another job) in order to create a safe and super divertido (fun) space for the girls to be able to come play four times a week and allow them to forget about the long list of stressors that they face on a daily basis. Baseball is definitely more popular than soccer in Granada, and women's sports in general are essentially non-existent so this part-time coaching job for women's soccer is not exactly glamorous and our coaches pour their heart and soul into it every day. Here is an attempt at describing them, though its hard to do them justice:

•  Hassell is 20 years old but she turns 21 on August 25 so we're going to have a joint birthday party sometime that week. She is incredibly smart; she was the salutatorian in her graduating high school class, she speaks very good English, she beats us at Bananagrams like its her job, and she worked as a surgical assistant for a year, but she can't afford to go to college so right now she is just working for us. She started playing soccer for the first time only a couple years ago as a participant in our program, but then once she "aged out" she was quickly hired as a coach because she is such a great role model and the perfect example of what we want our girls to strive for. She has been the friendliest of all the coaches since day one, loves to hang out with us after activities and practices are over, and she has been incredibly patient with my still-not-perfect Español.
• Helen is also 20 years old, and also was a participant in the program that aged out and then was hired. She has been playing soccer for a lot longer, and is a very solid defender. More importantly than that, she has an unmatched magnetic pull with the girls in the program and for obvious reasons. She is always lending a listening ear, giving infinite hugs, starting group cheers, and devotes every ounce of energy to making sure the girls are happy and enjoying themselves. She is always walking to and from the field with a posse of 3 or 4 girls hanging on each arm, and the screams that fill Tres Pisos when teams learn that Helen will be their leader for that activity are earsplitting. 
• Veronica, more commonly known as Flaca, (which means skinny, which she is) is 24. She has a university degree, a very rare thing for a woman let alone anybody in Granada to have. She studied psychology and works as a psychiatrist for the Ministerio de Salud (Ministry of Health) in Granada. After her long days at work, she shows up to the office with arguably the most energy in the group. She is truly a Latina firecracker with a strong personality, a boisterous laugh, and always telling jokes with double meanings that go way over my head. Though she intimidated me at first, we have become buds. Larkin Mady and I had dinner at her house with her family last night. She is thoughtful, smart, and strong with an tinge of crazy and everybody loves her.
•  César is 25 and has been working for Fútbol Sin Fronteras since its very beginning in 2008. He essentially runs the entire show. He also has a university degree in accounting and speaks and understands English very well. His maturity combined with how much he cares for his Mariposas is a joy to watch. He has an innate ability to work with children, and a way of breaking down team building activities into concrete lessons that the girls understand and learn from. He never loses sight of the most important part, fun. Judging from the screaming laughter that comes from the second floor on activity nights, the Mariposas always have a blast with Cés.
• Techo is the youngest of them all, 18 years old. Like Cés, he has been involved with the organization since the beginning (since he was 14!) as a volunteer coach. Eventually he became the head coach of the Estrellas and hasn't looked back. He loves to joke around, but when it comes down to it he cares deeply and passionately about his work with Fútbol Sin Fronteras. I could describe him in many different ways to get my point across but I think this story does it best: Last season he ran a coaching clinic as part of his work with Fútbol Sin Fronteras and because of that used to be paid a little bit more. There was a slight discrepancy at the beginning of this season with his pay, but it was quickly smoothed out because he said "I will sign my contract regardless of what we decide should be my weekly salary because it's not about the money it's about the girls." He has an incredibly big heart, and sees the bigger picture which is something extremely uncommon in most Nicas who understandably struggle to broaden their views since many are solely concerned with how to put food on the table and pay rent each week. 

From Left: Helen, me, Flaca, Hassell, Mady. Above: César and Techo.

Dream Team!

I feel profoundly lucky to be able to work alongside these people for the next year. I know I will learn so much (I already have) and I feel like we have such a solid group going forward and will achieve some really great things. 

Today the Estrellas have their first game of the season against a boys team from a gym around the corner. Wish us luck!

Amor, paz, y fútbol

KPope

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Sunday marked 3 weeks since I arrived in Nicaragua to begin my work with Soccer Without Borders. If I'm doing my math right, that means it has been 5 weeks since my last blog post (which probably nobody has even seen yet because I didn't bother to make it known that I started a blog) It's hard to keep up a blog when every single day here leaves me with a million things to write about and reflect on, but I will do my very best to pick out the good stuff and write on a more regular basis. I have been working with a fellow intern, Mady, from Seattle and our local director- Larkin Brown, Bowdoin alum '10, former captain and Bowdoin teammate and one of my best friends, and five local staff members who I have already started to form solid friendships with.

Some memories from week one:

• After a long day of traveling (and after an even longer five days of job training in Boston) I left my backpack sitting on the ground at the Managua airport and didn't realize it until I arrived at my new home, la casa de Tres Pisos in Granada 45 minutes later. I was missing my laptop, my camera, my epi pens, some clothes, and most devastatingly Kitty (my ratty stuffed animal that I've had since birth, for those of you who don't know) Rough start. Two days later, the airport called and said they had found it, and everything was still inside except my laptop charger and a donated computer that I was bringing down for the office. Awwwww yeeeeah. It was nothing short of a miracle.

• We rode from the Managua airport to Granada in the bed of a pick up truck with all of our luggage, and that is the only mode of vehicle transportation we have been using since. It is truly liberating, and refreshing

• Day two, we met the local staff of coaches: Hassell (pronounced Hazel), Helen, Flaca, César, and Techo. Flaca and Techo are nicknames for Veronica and Estefan, respectively. Nicknames are a big thing here and we learned that they would soon give us nicknames, and they wouldn't necessarily be creative, but rather blunt and obvious and sometimes not very nice. It's just the way things are here. Past interns have received nicknames like "la Muda" (the mute girl), "la Roja" (the redhead), or "Dos metros" (two meters, referring to height). I should mention that at 5'10", I am a solid head above everybody in this city, men and women alike. Luckily I didn't receive the Dos Metros nickname, but lately they have been calling me "la Loca" (crazy) after seeing a few of my dance moves, or Flaca calls me "Kelly Maria" for some unknown reason. 

• I coach the Estrellas (Stars) with Techo, Flaca, and Helen. The girls are ages 12-16 and I love them. Mady coaches the girls ages 7-11 called the Mariposas (Butterflies) with César and Hassell. Day three we went on house visits to introduce ourselves to the girls' families with the other coaches. It was a little shocking and upsetting to see the homes and environments that these girls live in. The 'wealthier' girls on my team live in stucco houses with solid tin roofs, and upwards of 8 people living in a two room space. The poorer girls live in tin shacks, sometimes with only a few slabs of wood that act as a roof. The floors are non-existent, just the mud of the ground under their feet, and only one room to accommodate a large family. Now that we are entering the rainy season in Granada, it is heartbreaking to think about those girls that most likely get rained on at night in their homes.

          The rest of the week was more logistical lessons of how to pay our bills, where the grocery stores/market is, and which street vendors' food is trustworthy and which ones will most likely give us parasites. We had to learn quickly because this past week we ran a camp for a group of high school volunteers from the United States. It was a very similar trip to the one I did two years ago, except for high schoolers rather than college kids. Naturally, the night before they arrived I came down with a 101 degree fever and stomach issues. It was my first lesson in powering through, faking it til I make it, and a serious exercise in teamwork for me and the rest of my coworkers. Mary McVeigh, the executive director, and Shea Morrissey, a coach for SWB in Oakland came down to help out and work with Larkin Mady and me. The 5 of us had to plan every meal, sleeping arrangements, day-time activities, and some tourism for the 12 students plus the 5 of us, and at times our 5 Nica coaches. On top of all that, we had to run our normal nightly activities for the girls in our program. There was no rest for the weary, and I was up by 6:30 every morning either buying groceries or taking a group of students to run gym classes in schools around the city.
          The theme of the week was Los Olímpicos and we split the girls (from our program) into 5 teams, each team representing a continent of the world that is represented  by one of the Olympic rings: Oceania, Europe, Asia, Africa, and the Americas. The coaches and a few high schoolers were each assigned to a team for the week. We started the week off with an Opening Ceremonies video (http://vimeo.com/46704843) and had the girls recite the Olympic oath in Spanish. Throughout the week we had a lot of different sporting events and other team building challenges, and Saturday we organized a big soccer tournament for all the teams to finish up the week. Flaca and I led the Oceania team to a gold medal victory! The whole week was a lot of fun, and I felt very accomplished by the end of it after running gym classes completely in Spanish, taking the lead on organizing some event nights and seeing my plans in action, and feeling my relationships with the girls and the Nica coaches really start to grow. That being said, I was definitely happy for it to be over. That it was a grueling 7 days would be an understatement.

Shea, Mady, me, Mary, and Larkin with the signed Nicaraguan flag that the high schoolers gifted us at the end of the week

Idania and Alejandra (some neighbors that live across from Tres Pisos) and me on the last day of Los Olímpicos! I was the Spirit Judge for the day

View of the Volcán Mombacho that overlooks Granada

View of la Calle Santa Lucía from our second floor balcony

More pictures to come! It has been a LOT to take in, and I think my role and my understanding of my impact in the community will take a long time to sink in. I'm getting there though, and loving every minute of it so far. 

Amor, paz y fútbol,

KPope