Wednesday, May 22, 2013

The Nicas do Amurrica

Once again I have been slacking on my blogging (though I swore I would post more often in these last few months) I apologize, but I do think I've pegged the problem. I live and work and spend almost every waking minute (and sometimes every sleeping minute when we fall asleep watching a television show) with Allie Horwitz. Allie is one of my fellow interns. She arrived in January and will be here until December, and though I haven't mentioned her all that much she has had an incredible impact on the second half of my year in Nicaragua. Currently she is spending a two week break at home with her family and friends, so I have found a free moment to write. She is a carpe-diem-type person, and while that leaves very little opportunity for boredom it also doesn't bode well for blogging.

As a side note: Allie arrived knowing very little Spanish, and while that may seem like a big obstacle in a Spanish-speaking country she 'crushed it' as we like to say in Soccer Without Borders. She crushes pretty much everything she does. She has an infectious positive energy, a deep-rooted passion for soccer, and she may be just as competitive as I am (but doesn't get nearly as angry when she loses) which explains her inherent desire to do things well. She put herself through Spanish bootcamp, and within 4 months has become thoroughly proficient in the language. She brings a refreshing perspective to the program and isn't afraid to argue her opinion with our (at times) strong-headed Nica leaders. When she can't come up with the words, she speaks with actions that prove an even stronger point. Her players know that she cares about each of them individually and they miss her very much, as do I. She makes me believe that change doesn't have to be a drudgingly slow process, and she has become a really dear friend in a very short amount of time. That's just the kind of person she is.

I have four weeks left of this journey. Then, as long as all goes well with the Nica's and the State Department, they will receive US Visas and will accompany me back to the United States for the second part of our Intercultural Exchange to promote Fútbol Femenino throughout Nicaragua. Half of their time will be spent in Boston working with SWB Boston, participating in workshops, and experiencing the city culture and the other half will be spent in Hanover, NH observing a Dartmouth Soccer camp, participating in more workshops, and getting a taste for small town life. This is the first time in 5 years that the Nicaraguans have a chance to go to the United States instead of groups from the US always coming down to experience Nicaragua, and I am so excited. I feel very fortunate for the opportunity to end my SWB journey in this way. I will be able to share a bit of where I come from with my new friends who have opened up their homes and themselves to allow me to be part of their lives for this past year.

 But. I can't help feeling a little anxiety towards this fusion. They only know me in this context. They know me as constantly sweaty with no A/C and barely working fans. They know I only really know how to cook a few things on our two burner table-top stove. They are used to seeing me hand washing and hand drying the dishes and cups. They've seen my laundry hanging up on the line after hours of hand scrubbing. They know that I walk everywhere and don't have a bike, and rarely take a taxi.

What they will find out about where I come from is very, very different than this perception that they have right now. We have central A/C, and there's the ocean outside to cool off in when need be. We have a gas stove and oven, and a grill, and we don't have to struggle with matches in order to turn them on. My mom cooks most meals, hence why I only really know how to make pasta and chicken. We have a dishwasher. We have a laundry machine and dryer. My parents each have a car, and we have another car between my brother and I. And I even have a bike, but generally I just drive everywhere. I am unbelievably lucky and spoiled in that sense, but they don't know the full extent of that. Yet.

When they do come and when I have a chance to show them where I live, I hope they can still see me as their friend that they can confide in, relate to, and have long heart to hearts with full of laughing and sometimes crying. Though I will never be a Nica, they know me as the gringa that always wishes and tries to be a natural part of their awesome group. As a result of that, I have (I think) been accepted as a true friend regardless of being different. I hope this doesn't create separation and cause them to think of me as a foreigner again.

Other times when I think of this fusion that will happen in four short weeks, I realize that the blending of cultures is what makes FSF and SWB programs everywhere so incredibly special. Some of my favorite memories of the past year are times when these two cultures have mixed in pretty funny ways. Nica Halloween, Nicas singing American karaoke songs, Cesar speaking slang English every chance he gets (i.e. he learned that chunky is a way to say fat, and now calls everyone Chunky) etc. There's no doubt that each culture is unique and beautiful, but I think I've learned that united we are stronger and can achieve greater things.

Amor, Paz, and Fútbol
KPope

Friday, April 19, 2013

Highs and Lows

The high temperature for today is 99, but weather.com says it feels like 101. It predicts that it will cool off to a low of 86 around 9pm. We will see what we get.

April has been pretty infernal and oppressive, but obviously I didn't mean the weather highs and lows by the title of this post. Once again, my daily life has put me through an emotional ringer all within the same week. I'll start with the low.

              Last Friday, the Estrellas had a league game scheduled against a team of boys that live on our street. We had plenty of subs, and the girls all showed up with "ready-for-anything" type attitudes. María Fernanda, an offensive player through and through, was ready to jump back on defense and fill in when Taicha went down with an ankle injury. I didn't hear the typical, "No puedo" (I can't) if I asked them to step outside their comfort zone and move around the field. They were genuinely happy to simply be out on there playing. Xiomara was a brick wall in net, denying all shots through the majority of the first half to keep the game scoreless. When the first goal from the other team did slip by, I didn't see the usual walking around the field. They kept running, kept fighting for 50-50 balls, kept their heads up. The boys team, slowly but surely, did rack up the score by the end of the game. With about 10 minutes left in the second half, one boy thought it would be funny to take his own goalie on on purpose to give us a goal. The goalie did come out to try to deny him, but with a quick foot move he was able to evade the approaching keeper and pass the ball into their own net. His teammates on the sideline hooped and  hollered in laughter. Though he gifted us a point, he stripped the girls of their dignity. Despite being down by about 8 goals, it wasn't until that point when the Estrellas stopped their great show of effort. Xiomara simply walked off the field, the crisp passes that we had been making turned into 'soggy waffles' as Maren would say, and the spark of energy was instantly gone. They began to get frustrated with each other instead of letting their frustrations fuel an even stronger effort. When the final whistle blew, emotions were running high. Joseling, who has been steadily improving all season long on the defensive line, was nearly in tears and convinced that the 8-10 goals that the other team scored were a result of her poor play. I was white with anger at the boys' immaturity and kept my jaw clenched shut as Eden talked to the players for fear that I wouldn't have anything constructive to say in that moment. As we were walking off the field to head back to the office, three of my own players broke into a fight amongst themselves. Everything was just a mess. Tears welled to my eyes out of pure frustration. Not because we lost again, not because the girls were acting out, not even because the boys got a laugh out of making a joke of our team. I was and am deeply frustrated with the social barriers that still exist. We can preach confidence and gender equality to our players as much as we want, but in practice those things still aren't realistic aspects of their lives. They hear all week that they are strong, smart, beautiful people and can achieve their wildest dreams, but every Friday they leave the field with notions that they aren't nearly as talented as they are led to believe. They don't understand that the boys have been playing informal soccer in the streets for their whole lives, and the majority of the girls just started playing the sport a few years ago. While their feats are still incredible, perception is reality and they still perceive themselves to be lesser athletes. This kills me, and now more than ever it's time to find some regular female competition for the Estrellas.

              On a much more uplifting note, and a tribute to Fútbol Sin Fronteras as an organization, I have had the privilege to see first hand how being part of a team has done wonders for an individual on my team for the past seven months that she has been a part of the program as an Estrella. To respect her privacy, I won't call her by name. She joined my team in September of last fall, and I immediately noticed a stark difference between her and the rest of the team. She dressed in dark tight clothing, wore heavy eye make up, and had skulls and broken hearts scribbled across the white rubber of her Converse sneakers. She was quiet and rarely spoke up, but made a few friends quickly and they became very close. It was clear that she was viewed as a leader among her friends. Had her choice of dress been the only differentiating factor, there would've been no need to intervene in any way. However, we (the coaches) soon noticed thin horizontal scars lining both of her wrists. Generally, she tried to cover them all up with dozens of bracelets on each arm but on game days she was forced to take them all off and reveal the indicators of her self-harming behavior. Pretty soon after she joined the program, we noticed that other girls had joined in on this very dangerous behavior and that's where we drew the line. We pride ourselves on creating a safe space, and any kind of physical harm is simply not tolerated. We spoke with the girls individually, and we spoke with a few of the parents who were unaware that this behavior was happening. It seemed like our efforts to help these few girls were futile, for at first nothing changed. We continued to have to pull them aside and explain how their actions were jeopardizing the safety of themselves and others, we discussed a suspension or removal from the program, we were a bit at a loss when more and more girls seemed to be following the trend.
                When we split the Estrella team into two at the beginning of this season, we purposefully separated this participant from her closest friend in an attempt to steer them both in different directions and force them to make new friends that may have better influences on them. She remained on my team and her friend is part of the other Estrellas. In the past two months, I watched as this girl began to smile. Shyly still, but nonetheless lips curved upwards and a hint of dimples. She began to participate during activities, and to my surprise take on leadership roles in small group situations. It's clear she's a natural. She doesn't boss others around, but rather can effortlessly facilitate a productive group environment where everyone has a chance to contribute. I first noticed it on a night where the girls did an 'Egg Drop.' In two separate teams, they had to create a contraption that would protect an egg when dropped off the third floor balcony. On one team, three girls huddled around the materials and vigorously started taping and tying things around the egg while the others sat on the outside uninvolved, and uninterested. On this girl's team, she suggested that everyone sit in a circle so they could all see the materials. If people tried to talk over one another, she stopped them and focused on one at a time. She carefully considered all the ideas that were suggested and listened to the opinions of all her teammates rather than ruling anything out and doing it her own way. She was understood by all of them to be their leader, though there was no kind of spoken decision.
              Little by little her clothes became brighter, her smile bigger, and she doles out hugs to all of her teammates when she arrives to activities or practices. She leads by example on the field as well, showing no sign of fear or hesitation in her play, always putting in a full effort to help back on defense though she's a gifted forward, and always talking to teammates in an encouraging or constructive manner. She has easily shown the greatest transformation in seven short months, and I have never felt more encouraged or inspired by one's progress.

We are definitely all surprised and confused in the best way possible by her seemingly sudden transformation, but if I had to put in my two cents, I'd say she finally feels like she belongs. A sense of belonging is one of the most elusive and precious gifts for a fourteen year old girl. When everything in your life seems to start changing so rapidly all of a sudden, including your body, it can be easy to feel scared and overwhelmed and lost. When you are part of a close group of people going through the same kinds of changes and emotions with you, all of your problems start to feel insignificant. It has been a joy to watch her not only develop as a player and a teammate, but a leader on and off the field. She's a privilege to work with, and I dare say this is among the highest highs of my whole year.

I'm reminded once again of the large place in my heart that all my own teammates hold. Truly an indescribable bond.

Amor, Paz, y Fútbol
KPope                                                                

Friday, April 12, 2013

Time Flies

It certainly doesn't feel like two months have passed since I last wrote a post, but alas they have. It has been one thing after another since I last wrote so here is a quick (as quick as it can be) debrief:

1.          Ellery, my roommate of four years and best friend from college, came down for a 6 week stay to be our program's soccer guru and develop a strength, conditioning, and technical session for all the girls in the program that now happens weekly. She spent her fall in Sweden playing on a professional Division 1 women's team, so she was well qualified for this job to say the least. As she does no matter where she goes, she had an immediate impact on everybody around her. Positive energy, great ideas, a listening ear, humor, grace, and the ability to inspire everybody to be better. It was amazing to be able to share this place with her; to have impromptu sing alongs and dance parties with her at Tres Pisos, to hit the town with her just like we did in our glory days, and mostly to share a soccer field with her again is a feeling I can't put in to words very well but it was something special. I was sad to see her go, but we'll be reunited somewhere in the next chapter of our lives somewhere soon.

2.        In late February, we hosted the first part of an Intercultural Exchange for Fútbol Femenino. Thanks to a grant we received, a team of ex-collegiate female soccer players representing all different Divisions was able to travel down here for a week to run clinics and play in a showcase game against the Nicaraguan women's national team in an attempt to promote and spread women's soccer throughout the country. They spent time in Diriamba, Managua and ended their week here in Granada. I could only participate in parts of it because we still had normal programming going on in Granada all week, but I was able to go to the first clinic held in Diriamba. I went in to the afternoon with no expectations but quickly became nervous when only three girls had showed up ten minutes after the clinic was supposed to start. Then, as if the clouds decided to open, buses full of girls that wanted to play showed up to the stadium. Around 150 in total. We scrambled to record all of their names, ages, hand out our t-shirts, and herd them in to the stadium. We had them form a circle so we could say our welcoming statement and explain a bit about the day. It was one of the biggest circles I've ever been a part of (literally and figuratively), and seeing the girls in their school uniform skirts and black flats who, despite the lack of athletic resources, were so excited to play was an overwhelmingly emotional moment for me. Soccer truly is a beautiful thing.

          On more of a personal note, I was able to play in the showcase game against the Nicaraguan national team at the national stadium in Managua. We bussed all of our participants and their families from Granada to have them come watch us play. I hadn't played in a very official game for quite a while, but as luck would have it I ended up with a starting position due to a lack of defenders on our squad. We chose 22 of our participants to walk the starting players on each team out on to the field for a small opening ceremony. Esther (a Mariposa) was holding my hand and unabashedly told me that my hand was very sweaty, and she let go for a moment and wiped it on my uniform. I guess I was pretty nervous. After a few pictures and a quick team huddle, the game was under way. We went down by a goal in the first half, but ended up tying them thanks to a clutch second half goal from Ellery (shocker.) The FSF girls started a crazy sideline cheer battle against young girls from a school in Managua. Our girls were cheering "U-S-A! U-S-A!" against their shouts of "Nicara-gua! Nicara-gua!" Though it got heated, the tension was settled with a post-game question and answer session where we were able to share with the Nicaraguan players our similar experiences with playing soccer despite growing up in radically different places. If possible, my connection with this sport grew even deeper.


3.          The week following immediately after happened to be the program's 5th anniversary. Past volunteers, coaches and board members travelled to Granada for a special week long celebration of the progress that has been made and the big ideas that are right at our fingertips for future change and development. The video compilation of the past five years was an incredible way to see all that has been accomplished and see how the girls who have been involved for that amount of time are our most confident, best skilled participants, and the true leaders of the program. So this stuff does work, and that was so encouraging to see and celebrate. We ended our week with a field-day type of celebration for the participants and their mothers to celebrate International Women's Day (Día de la Mujer) which is a special holiday here. We sent up many different games in the courtyard of one of the schools in Granada, blasted music and had a goofy time with a photo booth. The happiness of the day was very contagious and a perfect ending to such a special week.



4.        My family was able to travel down to Granada for a few days right before my Easter break. Unfortunately, they came at the hottest time of the year (if you can imagine that some days here are hotter than others.) However, that didn't take away from the joy of hearing the Estrellas chant all of their names to enter the middle of our dance circle during our summer party on activity night, or see their reactions to all the quirky things about life here, or have them watch yet another one of my soccer games (and the first time they were able to see me coach.) Plus we were able to cool down in the ocean after the week was done and explore the beautiful Pacific coast line of Nicaragua. I loved having them here and I will be happy to see them all again in June.

5.         For Semana Santa (Easter week) I traveled to Catalina Island where Connor works to experience the job that he loves doing as he was able to travel here twice to experience mine. It was a much needed break from the heat and a wonderful opportunity to see him in his element and meet all of his great coworkers and new friends. I saw sharks, dolphins, a whale, mola molas (rare ocean sunfish!) sea stars, urchins and anemone galore, and plenty of other crazy ocean creatures that I've never even heard of. Talk about different interests, but it sure keeps it exciting!

When I was asked about my job by his friends, something hit me hard in the gut. Normally I say I'm working in Nicaragua for a year for Soccer Without Borders and I coach a team of young girls and we use soccer as a way to improve their teamwork, confidence and leadership skills. But I no longer will be working here for a year. Now it's 2 and a half months until I fly home at the end of this crazy journey. Yes, I have learned a lot and gained so many skills that will help me greatly with my next job in the fall. But am I ready to leave? Have I lived up to all the expectations I had for myself going in to it? I don't know. This job has so perfectly combined all of my passions into one, and there will always be a piece of me that's never ready to leave and will never feel like I've done enough. The good thing about leaving for a short while was that it gave me a refreshed perspective and drive to finish strong, despite the heat and other frustrations that come along with it. The girls I work with are going to grow up to be incredible people; I know this from seeing how far they have already come in the past five years, and if soccer has anything to do with it they will make friendships like I've made with Ellery, be able to better connect with other people from different backgrounds, gain a healthy competitive spirit to push them to achieve more in life, keep them active and focused, and allow themselves to find a perfect balance between work ethic and fun. I am dedicated more than ever to sparking this passion in all of them, and keeping their obstacles to be able to play small and beatable. The game has been one of the greatest gifts I've ever received.

Amor, Paz, y Fútbol
KPope











Friday, February 1, 2013

Forever Young

Within the past week, I have had the privilege of attending three baseball games in the championship series of the Nicaraguan World Series. The Tiburones (sharks) of Granada advanced to the finals after a 4-3 win in extra innings of game 7 of the semi finals..which was followed by vuvuzelas sounding loudly throughout the streets of the city until the wee hours of the morning. Despite the excitement and momentum entering the final series, Granada lost their first three games to the Tigres (tigers) of Chinandega.  The first game and the fourth game were played here at the stadium in Granada. The first game was well attended and very loud until the Tiburones went down by 5 runs by the 7th inning and people started to file out early. Then after hearing that Granada then lost the next two consecutive games in Chinandega, very few people showed up for the fourth game. We had prime seats right behind the visiting team's dugout and the game stayed locked at 1-1 throughout despite big hits, great steals, and long throws for crucial outs at home plate. It was finally decided in the bottom of the 12th inning when Granada hit a walk-off double to send the second base runner home and keep their championship dreams alive. It was a great game to have the opportunity to witness, don't get me wrong. But there was something that kept me from feeling exhilarated along with all the other fans who went crazy with their horns, whistles, and flags when the Tiburones scored--one young boy.

A young boy at a major league baseball game sounds like one of the happiest people on Earth, at least on paper. It's possible that I'm just biased because I have a little brother that lived for baseball. At 3 years old, he had memorized and been able to imitate all of his favorite player's batting stances. His favorite TV show was Sports Center and he knew all the statistics of even the least well known players.  He went to a few Red Sox games with my dad and would turn heads with his obscure knowledge, and then return home to rave to my mom about the game as well as the ball park delicacies. He was for lack of a better term, obsessed. So maybe for these reasons, it was jarring to see such a sad and forlorn face on a young boy, no older than 10 at the game. It was jarring that he wasn't even watching the game, but scouring the crowd to pounce on an empty beer or soda can to crush up and put in his tattered sack, probably so he could later trade them in to get a few cents for the material. I bought a bag of plantain chips and ate a few but then held the bag out to him. We made eye contact and I felt a pang of helplessness at the same as a deep human connection. He dropped his sack for a second and sat down beside me and devoured the bag.

I heard a song recently called "The Story" by Brandi Carlisle, and the lyrics start like this: All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am. So many stories of where I've been, and how I got to where I am." I think its a really beautiful song, but it makes me extra sad when I think about that boy. He has no lines on his face yet. He has flawless young skin, but he's already been forced to grow up and fend for himself in the world. He can't even enjoy an extra inning win in game four of the World Series. Worst of all, he is not alone.

So many children here don't have the privilege of having a carefree, fun childhood, and it keeps reminding me of how important sports, safe spaces and friendships are to the girls I work with. It keeps them young, and that's hard to come by here. We have been pushing to make our curriculum more educational and right now we are developing some health-related workshops that will happen every couple of weeks, touching on topics such as nutrition, hygiene, stress relief, healthy relationships, etc. It will potentially be a great thing, but its also nice to know that what we're currently providing is equally important and special.

Our new season officially starts on Tuesday! Stay tuned!

Amor, paz, and fútbol

KPope                                                                                          

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Jan Camp 2013

Three years ago right around this time, I took my first trip down to Granada Nicaragua with two of my teammates, Lucy and Larkin, to volunteer for FSF's January Camp 2010. The program ran out of a one floor, tiny office space. There were two long-term interns, Zoey and Kay, three Nicaraguan female leaders, Cindy Suyen and Yelba, and 8-10 teenage male coaches.  There were a jumble of girls and a few boys that showed up for soccer practice and activities that week and they were divided into two large groups- grandes and pequeñas (bigs and littles). The power in the entire city was in and out all week, Lucy and I showered with a bucket of cold water, and there were a variety of pigeons and parrots strutting around inside our house all week. It was a really fun, eye-opening week.

Larkin graduated that May and flew back down in August to work as a year-long intern. She and Lindsey (her co-intern) found a much larger, three floor office space with rooms to live in. They whittled the two large co-ed groups down to three all girls teams with identified names- Las Mariposas, Las Estrellas, y las Nicoyas (now las Veteranas). They solidified a weekly schedule, they connected with schools and other community members to reach more girls, they made the program what it is today.

That kind of progress cannot be achieved by just anybody, you have to be incredibly proactive and charismatic and focused and wonderful like Larkin and Lindsey, but it is pretty darn inspiring nonetheless. It made me think "Hey, I could be a big part of something really neat." So three years later, here I am. And by some stroke of luck, or maybe a not-so-coincidental common bond, Larkin is back here too as the program's first ever local director. Now there are four year-long interns, Mady Becca Allie and myself. There are three Nicaraguan female leaders, Flaca Helen and Hassell (two of which are past participants of the program) and three Nicaraguan male leaders, César Techo and Edén (two of which have been working with FSF since it's inception) There has been big and deliberate change and growth over the course of five years; a young organization driven by young people, making a difference for other young people. And that's really neat.

This Jan Camp was another fun and eye-opening week for me in different ways than the first time around. It was so fun to be back in Granada with five months of experience already under my belt; it was fun to recognize the strengths of the connections I have already made and know that I have more time to grow them. It was fun to feel fully capable and confident planning and leading practices and activities fully in Spanish. It was fun to see newcomers to Granada react to all the nuances and quirks of this place. It was fun to feel apart from that, as if I'm a part of this place too, not a foreigner anymore. On the other hand, it was eye-opening to see how many girls showed up to morning practice without having eaten breakfast or without the opportunity to eat breakfast and therefore either felt dizzy, or became sick to their stomachs. It was eye-opening to find many, many girls whose heads are crawling with lice and whose parents know about it but haven't bothered to take care of it. It was eye-opening to see that in 5 days of interaction with these girls, the 11 newcomers made a significant impact on the energy of the whole program. A year doesn't seem very long, but I know now that it's definitely important and impactful.

Politics aside, President Obama said in his Inauguration speech "We the people declare today that the most evident of truth that all of us are created equal...We are true to our creed when a little girl born into the bleakest poverty knows that she has the same chance to succeed as anybody else because she is an American, she is free, and she is equal not just in the eyes of God but also in our own." I am proud and lucky to have been born in the United States of America, but these girls are Nicaraguan and are not given an equal chance to succeed. As a global community we must strive for the same ideals and work towards making these ideals more of a reality. The camp was a great kick off to the year and we have many ideas and plans to further develop our system and curriculum to benefit these girls born into the bleakest poverty. The truth is self-evident, its time to self-execute.



     Volunteer pick up game before camp kicked off                             New FSF Granada Staff!



Maribel and Ana Paola
Partner stretching!



Amor, Paz, and Fútbol

KPope




Friday, January 18, 2013

I'm baaaaack

Por fin! After an 8 week blog break (4 weeks of which I was home) I decided to get back on the horse after an outpouring of support from dedicated followers. I apologize for such a long break and I too am excited to get back to get back to writing. It's been a great way for me to digest and eternalize all of my feelings, thoughts, and lessons that I have learned throughout this crazy journey. So while you all may enjoy reading about it too, just remember this isn't for you. This is for me ;)

Since my last post on Thanksgiving, I've had a whirlwind of two months. Connor came to visit and I was able to share my last two weeks in Nicaragua with him; I attempted (and semi-failed at) snorkeling, we did a monster hike up a volcano, took a wildlife tour of the isletas in Granada, and were also able to take a night tour of the active Volcán Masaya. It was an incredibly fun adventure, but easily the best part of all of it was being able to share with him the daily joys of this job; the people I work with, the girls, visiting schools, visiting homes, and making other community connections. He witnessed a hopping FSF fiesta, and he was appropriately initiated by the Nica staff with a one-minute fridge sit (exactly what it sounds like) and the classic moneda challenge. I learned not only how special it was to be able to share this experience with someone else, but it also hit home how special this experience has been for me.

We flew back home December 11, and while I accidentally threw my toilet paper in the trash for a few days I barely had a chance to  let the rest of the inevitable culture shock seep in. I had 28 days to try to see and spend time with a LOT of people, and though there was no rest for the weary I wouldn't have liked it any other way. I had a blast at home, at Bowdoin, in Boston, in VT, up in New Hampshire for New Year's and I couldn't believe it was already time to fly back to Granada come January 8th.

To be frank, I had mixed feelings upon my return. Yes, I love my job but it would be disingenuous to paint it in a perfect light. It's hard. It's hot. The challenges that face the girls I work with seem much bigger than anything I could solve in the one year that I am here. It is easy to feel drained and discouraged. It was great to be home. Yet, after a good night's sleep back in my bed in Granada, I felt rejuvenated, excited, capable and ready.

Ready to take full advantage of the next 6 months. I didn't leave my backpack at the airport this time. My Spanish flowed a bit easier than before. I met Allie and Rebecca, the two new interns that will be here until December. I reunited with Techo, Flaca, Helen, César, and Hassell and met Edén, our recently hired new Nicaraguan coach. I visited the Estrellas' homes to let them and their families know about January camp information and received big warm hugs that told me, "I missed you, I'm glad you're back." This job is hard, but it's well worth it for the little things like that.

This past week we had a crazy full week of camp with 11 volunteers from the United States and double sessions of activities every day with the girls. Yesterday during the soccer session in the morning, María Alejandra (the only Estrella with 100% attendance from last season) was unusually quiet and not putting any effort into the fun warm up drill. This caused a few teammates to snap at her since she essentially caused them to lose the hula hoop race. She walked away from the group and began to cry so I walked with her to a shady spot on the side of the field. She didn't want to talk at first, but then she opened up about a fight she had with her best friend Ericka. The fight seemed minor and resolvable so I talked to her about fights I've had with friends before and how she should take time to clear her head but that she would feel a lot better about it after talking it out with Ericka. She understood, I gave her a hug, and we went back to practice. She was still quiet, but joined in with the rest of the team for the next drill.

Today they seemed much better, but today I learned that María Alejandra is moving to Rivas (a town 2 hours south) tomorrow morning with her family. Yesterday I felt that I had made a strong and more meaningful connection with her and today I had to say goodbye.

This place and these people are so special to me, and now more than ever I realize my time is fleeting. My mixed feelings have vanished and I am ready to delve farther into these girls lives, attempt to grow this young program a little further, and focus on making whatever difference I can.

More camp details and pictures coming soon!

Amor, Paz, y Fútbol

KPope