Time off

Although I'm definitely not here on vacation... there are times when it almost seems like one. Just off the coast from Pearl Lagoon is a group of small islands known as the Pearl Cays (pronounced Pearl Keys). No one really lives on these Islands, as they are public property no one is allowed to own or build on them. And as the government has not seen fit to promote much tourism in the area the islands are nearly untouched. With the exception of one of them allegedly being the location where one season of Survivor was filmed.

Some local restaurants and guides offer tours of the island, so a group of us from the congregation decided this was something we needed to experience while living in Pearl Lagoon.

Early Monday morning we met at the wharf in Pearl lagoon, and loaded our things into the boat. The price of the tour included a meal as well as drinks. We were slightly delayed by the rain, which didn't take long before it let up.

Before long we were skipping across the waves on our way to the first Island. This one was so small you could stand on the beach, and see the water on the other side, through the trees.

After swimming for a while we were taken to a second island, where the guides cooked some fish they had caught during the morning. This island was bigger, it took maybe 15 minutes to walk from one side to the other. There were some abandoned houses on this island. The story was that someone had purchased the island, not knowing that the person selling it to him did not own the island, nor was it legal to own the island at all. The "owner" had big plans, as they had built a restaurant as well as a nice vacation home with modern conveniences. It was kind of sad to see, but I guess thats what happens when you put your trust in material things. Interestingly if you look on line there are websites still trying to sell the islands.

Alleged filming location of Survivor. Wikipedia disagrees with our tour guide... not sure which one to believe.

The Savannah

Its been a busy month, and I must say I am loving it here in Pearl Lagoon. I wrote another post about my first day in service here but unfortunately due to technical glitches I am unable to access or finish posting it. I will try to remember the details.

It was a Wednesday, and every Wednesday the congregation works territory in a neighboring village called Raitipura. The inhabitants are mostly of Miskito descent, but nearly all of them speak English as well. The Creole English spoken there and here in Pearl Lagoon is not as distinct as others, for example Belize creole. Apparently the locals find conventional English easier to read than Belize creole, and they way they speak, although different, is readily understandable to most native English speakers.

In order to reach Raitipura one must cross what is known as "The Savannah". A flat grassy area with few trees that resembles parts of Africa.

 The difference however is that this Savannah is sopping wet. The reason there are no trees is because it is one gigantic marsh, though that fact is not visible from the path.

There is one concrete path leading across the plane, which at about the halfway point is completely submerged in water all of the time. I don't know how they built the pathway there in the first place, but whatever the case anyone going to Raitipura needs to wade through it. I sloshed through in my normal shoes and threw them on the tin roof in the afternoon to dry them in the afternoon sun. It did the trick but I still had soaked feet the whole morning. Since then I either take my shoes off and go barefoot, or wear rain boots.

The territory was amazingly receptive. I've only been there a couple of times and already have 3 potential bible studies. Frequently when working the territory people approach us and ask us to study with them and their families. One man even offered to build us a kingdom hall on his land.

Awas - Neighboring Raitipura

Ey' Mon

As you can probably tell from the title, I am now living in the caribbean. I regret not posting more in the past few months but I have been very busy with planning and making the move to Nicaragua, also being that we just finished the service year I had some catching up to do.

Just before I left however, there was a big announcement in the congregation in Mérida. The two english congregations, and the west english group are being condensed into one congregation, and any brothers who do not speak english as their first language have been asked to return to their former congregeations.
The direction is that we should be preaching to people in their mother tongue. Formerly most of the calls in the database were mexicans who were learning english. The change makes sense as the territory is worked frequently by the Spanish congregations.

Anyways, time went by quickly and before I knew it I was packing my bags. My flight was at 1:00pm, but the airport in cancun is still4 hours away by bus, so I had to leave early. I left at 4 in the morning so that I would have plenty of time to get to the bus terminal by 6 when it left for Cancun. My plan was to take a taxi, so i had a phone number to call. Unfortunately there was no answer when I called, so I asked a guy working in the 7 eleven accross the street if he knew a number for a taxi. He did not. Then i saw one go by, but he wouldnt stop when i waved at him. Finally i got two more phone numbers from the 24/7 farmacy nearby. I called both numbers 4 times, but no answer. By now it was 5:45 and the bus was leaving at 6:15, so i went and woke up the brother i was staying with to get a ride to the bus depot. (I felt bad because he was quite ill with a sore throat.)

Fast forward 13 hours, a bus and two planes and im in Managua! I missed Nicaragua so much, I don't know why i loved it here so much, but its good to be back. My old friend Dai jun who i travelled with the first time met me at the airport a long with some local friends from Jinotepe. They drove us to Dolores (a small town near Jinotepe) where i spent the week with Dai Jun. There I had the opportunity to go in service in spanish and help with the district convention invitation. It was nice to see old friends from the spanish congregation, and this time be able to communicate easily with them. It was a fun week, we had 3 parties and i got to work away my mexican accent in spanish a little bit.

Monday morning, i had to get up at 4:00am once again. Why is it always 4:00 am when I travel? Why!? Anyways some brothers in Dolores were going to Leon and dropped me off along the way in Managua. There i caught the 7:30 bus to El Rama. Beautiful countryside, green mountains and lots of potholes, for 6-7 hours. There was a brief stop in Juigalpa for bathrooms and street food. I ate a quesillo which are generally safe to eat as they are homemade, and the people selling them use gloves to handle them.

Once in El Rama i got on the new laguna de perlas bus which left at 4:30 in the afternoon. Its an old school bus painted black with roof racks added for luggage. The back half of the bud was loaded up with supplies being shipped into laguna from Rama, since its the only land route into the community. The bus ride was slow and bumpy through the jungle. We arrived at laguna de perlas around 9:45 at night and i was exhausted. A local brother named Byron blake met me at the bus stop and introduced me to the land lord and my new apartment, as well as a nearby restaurant where i can get internet and eat until i get some appliances.

It is very beautiful here, very tropical, palm trees and vibrant flowers everywhere year round. I rested today and walked around town to find some of the shops. It took me all of 3 minutes to find the kingdom hall. Pretty hard to get lost in a small place. Looking forward to service tomorrow and meeting the congregation.

Meanwhile in Mérida

Plans continue to come together for my trip to Laguna de Perlas. As it turns out the Airplane from Managua to Bluefields only leaves twice a day, once in the morning and once in the early afternoon. Since my flight from Cancun arrives in the evening, I would have to spend the night in the airport. However, the bus to El rama leaves later in the evening and travels through then night. So i get to choose between a night in the airport and a night on the bus. Taking the bus it may be possible to make it to Laguna de Perlas in one day. But this is all still months away.

Meanwhile, I am keeping busy here in Mérida. The English pioneer school is under way in Playa del Carmen, and as a result most of the pioneers in the congregation are gone. And since this congregation has so many pioneers weve taken a big hit in attendance, so the few who are left are very busy picking up the slack. I have 3 talks to do this month, as well as many smaller jobs at the meetings.

Those in the school right now are missing out on something else, we have started our metropolitan witnessing program. Now, this is not the special metorpolitan witnessing, where the branch assigns special and regular pioneers to high traffic areas. Rather this is just within our congregations territory. Since we are the Ingles centro congregation, our territory includes the main square of the city which is often crawling with english speaking tourists.

We set up a table with literature in english, primarily bible teach books as well as magazines in other foreign languages that are common here, such as french, german, italian, chinese, japanese, and russian. The first day was a great success, we were set up from 8 am until 12 noon. At least two people came and sat on the bench next to our table and had a bible study out of the teach book right then and there. We noticed that people rarely would simply walk by and take a set of magazines, they usually stopped to talk to us for a while. Evidently that is part of the culture here in the Yucatan.

Passersby also commented that they thought the table was a good idea. Many local people were interested as well, but we did not have any literature in Spanish. Next week we hope to work alongside the Spanish congregation whose territory the central park is in, that way we will have plenty of information for the locals. Our pictures will probably show up elsewhere as well, because many local brothers and sisters stopped to take pictures of us and our table. Some from Spanish, and even some sisters from a Mayan congregation paid a visit. Ironically the table seemed to draw just as much attention from fellow witnesses as from the public, as this had never been done in Mérida before to my knowledge.

Unforseen occurance

Usually when we talk about "Time and unforseen occurance" it has a negative connotation. Just recently something totally unforseen happened to me, but this time its not at all negative. I've been in Mérida just over three months now, and I now know my way around the city pretty well. I've also adjusted well to the climate. In fact this morning i was in Starbucks but I had to leave because the air conditioning was too much for me, I was starting to shiver and get a runny nose. I was really prepared to stay here in Mérida for a full year.

Now to the point, as mentioned in a previous post I wrote a letter to the Mexico branch office of Jehovah's Witnesses, asking for direction as to where I should go to help. Because the letter was sent by regular mail, and the postal system in Latin America is notoriously unreliable, After six months had passed I assumed my letter was lost in the mail. Thus I decided to come here to Mérida on my own.

Just a few weeks ago, I recieved a response from the Mexico branch. Of course, I could just ignore it and stay here... but I would much rather be in a place where the branch had assigned me. The funny thing is that just before the response came I had been seriously considering moving to progreso to assist the new english group forming there. I prayed for help to make the right decision, and then shortly afterward I got a letter addressed to me by name suggesting I move to Central America. Seems like a clear answer to me.

But it gets better. They listed 4 congregations for me to choose from: Copan ruinas (Honduras), San Pedro Sula - ingles (Honduras), Laguna de Perlas (Nicaragua), and Léon - ingles (Nicaragua). Does one of those sound familiar? Thats because one of the posts on this blog is about a trip i made to Laguna de perlas last year where we travelled by boat to reach isolated villages. It was one of the most enriching experiences of my life, and now im being asked to go back. My immediate inclination was to run outside and get a taxi to the airport right then and there. But after giving it some thought i've decided to wait until after the district convention in september.

I like it here in Mérida a lot, but I do miss the simpler lifestyle and slower pace of living on the caribbean side of Nicaragua. I also miss the friends i made while i was there, who became as close as family to me. I look forward to seeing all of them again soon. I've already bought a plane ticket to get from Cancun to Managua, I will take the bus from here to get to the Cancun Airport. The reason i am flying from Cancun instead of directly from Mérida is that for some reason it is much cheaper. I save over $100 flying to Managua, and when coming from Canada I saved around $200 by not going directly to Mérida, and that includes the price of the bus from the airport to Mérida. So if you plan on going anywhere in the Yucatan i recommend flying to Cancun and then taking the bus. When i get to Managua I hope to meet up with some of my old friends there, but if that isn't possible I will go directly to Bluefields, and then Laguna de Perlas.

I'm not sure if I will fly from Managua to Bluefields this time, or take the bus/panga route. The flight is less than an hour, as opposed to 7 hours by land and rivers, but another factor is that the people sometimes view you differently based on how you arrived. For example, if you come into Bluefields on a fancy airplane (its a prop plane, but to them its fancy), they will not think of you in the same way as someone who came on the boat a long with everyone else... what im saying is, if you come on a plane, you're a big shot gringo who can throw money away for the sake of convenience, but if you come in on a panga like all the commoners, you might just be one of them. I've heard many times in conversation when i was in bluefields "so-and-so came to bluefields last week, he came on the plane because he has lots of money". I'd like to avoid that stereotype as much as possible.

I haven't found a place to stay yet, but I know that Jehovah will provide. After all, its his organization that is sending me there.

Progreso

There is a town less than half an hour to the north of Mérida, which is on the norhtern coast of the Yucatan peninsula named Progreso. Just by looking at the map it seems like an appealing place to visit, and as it turns out the english territory there falls partially under Mérida centro ingles congregation. Naturally then i had to go and see it. It didn't take much persuasion to get a group together. The plan was to spend the morning in service and then go for lunch and spend the afternoon at the beach. We found out later however that a couple from Australia and a small group from one of the spanish congregations had been dilligently trying to start a new group.

We made plans to meet up with them near the beach, and then we worked the strip of businesses that were facing the ocean. Progreso is a beautiful town, and the temperature is much milder than that of Mérida thanks to the ocean breeze.

Last week the group had their first public talk and watchtower study, which i had the priviledge of attending, and yesterday i travelled with two brothers from Mérida to work in service in progresso for the day and this morning, as well as go to their meeting where they consider the jeremiah book.

Some local brothers in progresso own a very nice apartment which is currently vacant that they are letting us stay in when we visit progresso. I plan on going again next wednesday along with some others in centro. Its very exciting to see the beginnings of a new group, especially when there has never been one before in that town.

District convention

The trip back to Canada went smoothly. By now i was used to the pangas and the buses. I left the house at 4 in the morning, and arrived in Managua mid afternoon. I was met at the bus by some brothers in the english congregation there who i stayed with until it was time to go to the airport. I couldnt believe how cold it was in the airport, it was like walking into a freezer. Then i remembered how it felt coming into that same airport from canada... it really shows how your body changes to adapt to a different climate. Thankfully it was summertime back in Canada, so it was a fairly smooth transition.

By now it was July, and all of the district conventions i knew of in Canada were over in June. The conventions in Nicaragua (both spanish and english) were not until september. So i made it a matter of prayer to find a convention that i could afford to go to. I asked around to different brothers and the only clues i got were that there was possibly one coming up in Anchorage Alaska. Now, i have no reservations about a bit of travel, but its very expensive to get to alaska, and to stay in a hotel for 3 or 4 nights as well.

Then i heard of a family in a neighbouring congregation who were going to the convention in Mérida, Mexico in September. On top of that, they invited me to go with them and stay with them in a house they were renting. The family was considering moving to Mérida to serve in an english congregation there, so they were going to spend two weeks there in additon to the convention. And as it turns out, it was almost cheaper to fly there and back than to stay at a hotel in calgary for my own congregations district convention.

Mérida is the capital city of the Yucatan state of Mexico, and is located on the peninsula of the same name. Mérida has a reputation of being very clean, and having an abnormally low crime rate. The climate is tropical, having a dry season and a rainy season much like Nicaragua. It is said that the only flaw of Mérida is the heat. It regularly reaches 40 degrees celcius or higher during the day, and its a wet heat. That being said it is a fairly modern city so most buildings have air conditioning, including malls and cafes, so there is always a way to escape the heat if you really need to.

There were 5 of us travelling together, myself and the couple with their two children. The plane landed in Cancun, and we rented a car to make the 3 hour drive west to Mérida. The convention was held at a newly built assembly hall on the outskirts of the city. The program was especially encouraging for us, as there were many need greaters in the english district the program was tailored to that audience. The atmosphere was very upbuilding as well, since most of the people there were brothers who came from all over the world to serve in Mexico and they were all just as excited to be there as we were. Even though this convention was not in our home district, we all agreed that it felt like it was the convention that we were supposed to be at.

After the convention we spent the next two weeks exploring the Yucatan peninsula with the local brothers. We saw many tourist attractions but also a few hidden gems that the local brothers showed us. (Such as where to find the best tacos ive ever had).

After 4 months in Nicaragua i was quite honestly exhausted and was questioning wether i would do it again. But that convention, and being with that family in Mérida helped me to realize that this was my place in Jehovah's organization, at least for now. I belong in the field. When we got back to Canada this time my resolve was strengthened and i was determined to go back. I wrote a letter to the Mexico branch asking where i should go next, and started saving enough to stay in my next assignment for at least one year.

Unfortunately my letter never made it to the branch. I imagine it was lost in the mail, it was sent more than 6 months ago now and still no word. But that didnt matter. I had prayerfully set a date to leave for my next assignment, and was committed. I had my heart set on going back to Nicaragua, but after "calculating the cost" so to speak and considering possibities of making an income to prolong my time there i found that Mérida would be more practical.

So for the next 6 months i worked and did my best not to fall behind on my hours in field service. Working as much as i was and pioneering at the same time was difficult, i really didnt have much time to enjoy many of the things i missed while in Nicaragua, which is a fact that i remind myself of if I ever get homesick while away.

And that brings us to today. June 3rd 2013. I've been in Mérida for just over one month now, updating this blog from a cafe near the central park. The rainy season has just begun although its sunny right now. The family i travelled with in september will be arriving here in August.

Many things are similar here to Nicaragua, such as the heat, but i do miss Bluefields and the brothers there. The Yucatan has many of its own unique things to experience and im looking forward to having some new adventures here. Which of course i will write about on this blog.

The ministry here is great, im already conducting as many bible studies as i had in bluefields and finding the territory very productive. Im not just counting time here, im making time count.

Corn Islands

Off the east coast of Nicaragua in the Caribbean sea there are two small islands, they are known as the Corn Islands or Islas de Maiz in Spanish. After i decided to stay in Bluefields, the brother who i was traveling with decided to go and serve in the small spanish congregation on Big Corn Island. A few months later a brother from Mexico named Eduardo who had just finished his assignment in La Ruta came to stay in bluefields for a few days. He was on his way to Corn island for a vacation, and when it was time for his boat to leave i took him to a cab (we will come back to Eduardo later). About a month later, two pioneers from california who had come to the bluefields english congregation were making plans to go and visit Corn island, so i mentioned that i had a friend who had been there since i got to Bluefields, and by this time i needed a vacation too so we all went together.

To reach Corn island from bluefields, you can fly, or if you're on a pioneer budget you can go by boat. The boat leaves bluefields on wednesdays and returns on sundays (except when it doesn't). We bought our tickets on monday and were told to be at the wharf by 10:00 am wednesday. When we got to the wharf we only found one boat going to Corn island, a small boat called the Rio Escondido which the brothers had warned us not to take (apparently it doesnt handle the waves well). Out of options we showed to captain our tickets. "Oh lord, not this boat" was his response. The boat we had tickets for was not in bluefields. The lady at the ticket office at this point decided to tell us that it was at El bluff. El bluff is an island on the other side of the bay, and by now it was 10:30 and the boat was leaving at 11.

We went to another wharf to catch a panga to el bluff. Pangas normally leave when the driver decides the boat is full, but our ship was getting ready to head out to sea. Our only option was to buy all the empty seats on the panga. Thankfully this still was not very expensive, as getting to el bluff is not costly.

Now on the other side of the bay we hauled our luggage up some stairs until we made it to the right wharf. We could see the boat, so could relax a little. We were not allowed to board yet, so the gate was locked. We waited another hour roughly before we could board the boat, and after being searched by the navy it was another hour before the boat started to move.

The name of the ship was "Captain D". It was a large white cargo ship that had wooden bunks assembled on the deck towards the back of the ship, with a tarp over top and sides of the bunk area. There were also a few padded bunks on the inside of the ship, but we were told that to avoid getting sea sick its best to be outside. Inside on the lower decks there was a cafeteria, which served ramen noodles and beer. The journey took 5 hours, we could see the Rio Escondido (the other boat) following us from a distance. The ride was fairly smooth but thie was still my first time at sea, so it was very difficult to walk.

Many people had been leaving their cans and soup bowls all over the place and on the ground and since many likely knew we were witnesses i thought it would give a good witness if i did some cleaning up. On my way to the garbage can someone saw me and said "don't have too many or you'll fall off the boat!"... so there i was with an arm full of empty beer cans (which werent mine, in case you were wondering), and staggering heavily from the waves. A good witness indeed.

We finally reached Corn island, the water was turqoise blue and clear. I didn't know that water could really be that color in real life. I thought it was only in cartoons. The island itself is very lush and green, with many coconut and mango trees. We got off the boat and waded through the crowd of taxi drivers waving their keys at us until we met up with Dai Jun (the brother i had travelled with), He took us to the places we would be staying.

While we were on Big Corn Island we would go in service in the morning, and then go snorkeling in the afternoon. There was one beach in particular where the water was shallow but calm like glass, a very nice place to swim. What stood out to me though, was the responses we got in service. Half of the islands population speaks Spanish, and the other half speaks Creole english. I was working with a local sister and she took a call in Spanish, the man wanted to study the bible, but ther sister told him that no one was avaliable to study with him right now. The man pointed to me and asked "What about him? Does he speak Spanish?" The sister replied, "he speaks enough, but hes only here visiting." That moment really stuck with me. I still think about going back to corn island a lot. Is that man still waiting for a bible study? How many others are there? Did i make the right decision to leave? Oh well, its something i have to leave in Jehovah's hands now.

Now, Little Corn Island is just north of the Big Corn island, and from the beach on the north side you can even see it on the horizon on a clear day. To get there we took a small red boat that sounded like a deisel truck, the trip was 1.5 hours of madness. It was like a roller coaster that should be closed down.the waves were huge and they just wouldn't stop. People were throwing up, things were rolling around on the deck, and the ice cream man's cart fell over (even though it was tied down). It was worth it though, little corn island is quiet and peaceful, and perhaps the most beautiful place on the planet. Post cards that have been photoshopped dont even compare. There is something about it that is lost when you take pictures, you just have to be there to appreciate it.

Our plan was to go in service right after we got off the boat, but none of us had the strength after that ride, so we found a hotel and slept. Now, Dai Jun had told us that a brother from Mexico had been trying to start a group on Little corn island, since the congregation on Big Corn Island is only 12 publishers and they rarely get the opportunity to witness on the Little island. That brother came and met us at the hotel, and to our surprise it was Eduardo! The last person i expected to see. This brother has a habit of showing up unexpectedly, I'm sure ill run into him again some day.

He invited us to the meeting, he and a two brothers that were doing secular work on the island had been having meetings since he had arrived. Eduardo was giving the public talk and conducting the watchtower study on saturday night. But since we had a boat to catch and because the group was so small they were able to move it to Friday night so that we could attend. We had the opportunity to go in service as well, so we used every opportunity to invite those we called on to the meeting. It was quite easy to direct people to the meeting on such a tiny island, we basically just said "its over there behind the restaurant" and pointed.

The Little island only has a population of about 500 to 800 people, so the territory is very small. Nonetheless it is extremely productive, Eduardo's time in the ministry was almost exclusively spent conducting bible studies, from morning until evening every day. We managed to do some territory, the main strip of buildings a long the southern beach. There were some dive instructors and shop owners from other countires who were shocked and horrified that Jehovah's witnesses had found their little island, but the local people responded very well. Conversations went something like this

"Good morning, today we are visiting people on the Island to share a message from the bible, do you have a few minutes?"

"Well... if its about god then i have time."

Many of the ones we spoke to also said that Jehovah's witnesses had never called on them before, it was a priviledge to be the first.

After a wonderful day in service, a fight with a monkey, and some more snorkeling the time came for us to go to the meeting. The meeting was being held on the porch of a bamboo house, with an electric light tied to the window. The house was just two rooms where construction workers from the big island would sleep. The attendance at the meeting was 10, three brothers from Big Corn island, 4 in our group, and 3 interested ones. There were also several that walked by and stopped for a moment to listen. Throughout the meeting the power went off several times but the brothers didn't seem to notice.

As hard as it was to leave, we had to get back to bluefields. First though we had to get back to the big island. There are two options for travelling between the islands, a larger boat (the bad roller coaster) and a panga. The panga is smaller, but the trip is only 20 minutes so we decided to give it a try. I may have mentioned in a previous post that pangas safely hold 12 to 14 people. This one had 34 on board, about 3 or 4 of those had to stand. I was not lucky enough to have a seat, nor enough room to stand, so i sat on the rim of the boat near the bow, one hand on the luggage and one on the rim of the boat. Thankfully the ride was much smoother, we skipped across the waves and made it back to the big island in what seemed like no time.

Now the fun part. Upon arriving at Big Corn island, we were informed that the Captain D was going to Puerto Cabezas, and that we would have to take the Island express. The Island express is only slightly smaller, but it has only 4 bunks and usually carries around 40 to 50 passengers. The boat was scheduled to leave at 10:00 pm, so we got there early to find good seats. Being early was kind of pointless because the boat had no seats in the first place. Some brothers from Big Corn island joined us for the trip home, as they were going to pioneer school in Bluefields. They brought straw mats to lay on, as did many other passengers who all made their own beds on the deck. There was a tarp over the front deck as well so at least we were protected from the rain. I had brought a small air mattress and used my life jacket as a pillow.

We were delayed however because another ship was blocking our exit, it was a lobster boat and no one knew where the captain was. Eventually they found him (its a small island after all) and we were under way at about midnight. As we got further out to sea the winds picked up and it started to rain. There was an opening in the side of the ship which they used to load cargo, i had assumed they would close it when they left, but it stayed open. So i could see the waves going by at my feet as i layed on the deck. Hopefully they would notice if i slid out into the water, and would turn the boat around and get me...

During the trip i didn't sleep much, so i walked around a bit. I ran into the same man that saw me with the beer cans on the way to the island, this time i wasn't so wobbly and didn't have any empty cans so i was able to explain who we were and what we were doing. We made it back to bluefields after sunrise, and the boat moored next to another boat. There were at least 4 other boats in between us and the wharf, so we had to jump across from one ship to the next with our bags to make it back to land. I dont recommend this trip for anyone with mobility issues.

This was one of my favorite trips that i have been on, I really enjoyed being on the ocean and seeing the different island cultures. I hope to do some more sea travel in the future. I stayed in bluefields for a while longer before going back home to Canada. Travelling back across Nicaragua to the airport in Managua was not so scary this time, nor was the airport. It was summer time when i got back, but it seemed very cool to me after adjusting to the tropics. I got my old job back and started saving for the next trip right away.

Tasbapauni and Pearl Lagoon

After staying in bluefields for a while i met a brother from a neighbouring english congregation. He came from a town called Pearl Lagoon, which is labelled as "Laguna de Perlas" on the map, even though the community is entirely english speaking. There they have a small congregation of 12 publishers (at the time) and a special pioneer couple. The town is on the southern shore of the Pearl Lagoon, which is a very large body of water. The territory of this small group is extensive, so the congregation has their own panga which they use to reach the communities and farms around this lagoon and on the connecting rivers.

The group travels out once a month to its more isolated territories and i had the opportunity to join them on one of these trips. We were gone for about one week, and we went to a miskito village named Tasbapauni, which in miskito means "red dirt". The group was leaving early monday morning, so i had to leave bluefields sunday morning to make sure i was there the night before. When i got down to the wharf i was told there were no pangas going to pearl lagoon today. "Is there any way at all to get to pearl lagoon today?" I asked. The man said that if i had to i could take a panga to another town named kukrahill, and from there catch another boat or even a bus to pearl lagoon. Since i had to be in pearl lagoon by evening i went with this option.

So one hour in a panga heading north, and i was in kukrahill. A small, mostly spanish town in the jungle. There were taxis waiting to take people from the wharf to the bus terminal, obviously i wasnt the only one heading to pearl lagoon. The taxis had to take several trips to get everyone, and somehow i ended up on the last one. I wasnt in a big hurry because at this point i was only an hour from pearl lagoon. However, when the last taxi made it to the bus terminal, the bus had left. And there is only one bus in kukrahill. So now me and a few people from the boat were stranded in kukrahill. I asked around, but nobody seemed to have any ideas on how someonemight get to pearl lagoon. Except that there was a bus about 15 minutes ago, and contrary to what i was told at the wharf in bluefields, there were no pangas leaving from kukrahill.

I phoned a brother in pearl lagoon to ask if they had any ideas, and he said that there should be another bus later that evening. The other people that were on the boat confirmed this. That bus was coming at 5 pm, it was now around 10 am. I decided to walk around town a bit, and find something to eat at a corner store. The owner of the store went inside to get my change, and a little boy was standing in the doorway, staring at me with his jaw almost on the floor. His expression was one of complete shock and bewilderment. "De donde usted?" (Where are you from?) He whispered. I told him i was from canada, and he ran back into the house. I guess they dont see a lot of tourists in kukrahill.

I placed some magazines with some of the others from the boat who were with me waiting at the bus terminal. As the sun was starting to set, a blue van finally pulled up to the bus stop, and slid open the side door. This was the bus. Apparently the regular bus had broken down but the van had room for everyone. The driver tied everyone's luggage to the roof and we all crammed into the van. It wasnt too tight really, everyone had a seat so no one had to stand.

I guess the driver was feeling adventurous, since he decidede to take a "short cut" to pearl lagoon rather than taking the road. So off we went driving through the tall grass on some old forgotten trail through the jungle. About 10 minutes in we had a flat tire. Either due to a rock, or the bus being overloaded, or both. Everyone got out and we stood around watching as they changed the tire. Everyone was calm, and seemed to be in a good mood. That stood out to me about the caribbean culture, laid back and worry free.

Finally we made it to Pearl Lagoon, and i spent the night at the special pioneer couple's house, which was also the kingdom hall. It was a treat, because not only did they have running water, but they had a water heater as well. I had my first hot shower in months.

The next morning we loaded eveeything on board the "Mensajero 3" and set sail for Tasbapauni (Though not literally because its not a sail boat). The weather was not ideal, although it usually wasnt. The congregation went on these trips once a month regardless of the weather. It took us 3 hours to reach Tasbapauni, it was raining hard on the lagoon, and there were strong winds creating waves taller than the boat. There were 5 of us on the boat, and we shared pieces of 2 or 3 rain suits. Some of us got jackets, and some got pants. One sister wore the rain pants on her head to keep her hair dry. We used cut open milk jugs to bail water out of the boat. The only dry thing in the boat was the litrature, which was in a plastic bin.

As soon as we made it to Tasbapauni we started witnessing, ignoring the fact that we were sopping wet from head to toe, and that the town was in the middle of a tropical storm. One brother stayed behind to guard the boat, the two sisters went to do a return visit from when they came a year ago. Myself and the captain (special pioneer brother) went to do some territory. We came across a shelter near the wharf where a group of people were taking shelter from the rain. We went inside and the brother started witnessing to the whole group while i handed out magazines to everyone inside. They all were very excited to get the magazines and seemed very interested. Most people in Tasbapauni speak 3 languages: Miskito, English, and Spanish. We had literature in all 3.

Every home we called on was very receptive, and the entire week we spent there was extremely productive. We didnt stay in Tasbapauni at night though, as the navy had warned us that we should leave before dark. Although to us it seemed like a peaceful and quiet little town. Instead we stayed at a farm on the other side of the lagoon, where a local sister had prepared supper for us each night. After supper he brother would tell us stories from the nicaraguan revolution by candle light. The farm house had no electricity, but did have running water thanks to a rain water tank on the roof. I can remember laying down at night, and as soon as i closed my eyes i could feel the motion of the waves even though i had been on land for hours.

I was so glad to have had the opportunity to go on this trip. Many need greaters have gone to pearl lagoon over years, and they often say "if you go, you HAVE to do the boat thing!" And i agree completely.

Crossing Nicaragua

Bluefields is on the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua, its a city of about 70,000 people (there are many conflicting statistics on the actual population). The eastern half of Nicaragua is divided into two departments (similar to provinces or states). Despite the large geographical area, this half of the country contains only 5% of the country's population, mostly along the coast. So the few communities there are fairly isolated and because of this there are no roads going to Bluefields, which made this the most interesting journey of my life. I hope to top it some day but its not going to be easy.

One of the La Concha brothers owned a truck, so he and a few others from the congregation helped us load our baggage into the truck and drove us to Jinotepe, where we met up with Javier. We spent the night at his house and slept on the floor in the living room. The next day he had organized a going away party and BBQ for the evening. We got to eat meat from an animal called a Peliguay.

La Concha to Jinotepe

The next day we went down to Managua. Jinotepe, La concha, and Sta. Teresa are all in the mountains, and to go further east we needed to take a bus from the capital. While in Managua we ate at McDonalds for the first time in months, and it tasted wonderful. However, after finishing my bacon cheeseburger I came to realize my body had become accustomed to Nicaraguan food, and the burger just didn't sit right. 

After getting a few things in Managua we were taken to the bus terminal. We bought our tickets in advance, which was unusual since normally in Nicaragua you just get on the bus and they collect your money once the bus is moving. The bus was quite a bit nicer than the normal buses as well, it wasn't a refurbished school bus and it had comfortable seats. The bus took us as far as El Rama, in the middle of the South Atlantic Autonomous Region. We left at around 2 in the afternoon, and the trip was 5 hours long. We stopped briefly a long the way and people got on the bus to sell snacks and drinks. We bought Quesillas (not sure about the spelling) which we were told were safe to eat. A Quesillo is a tortilla, with a slice of cheese on top, and shredded lettuce, folded in half with a white sauce poured over it. They serve it inside a plastic bag, and you bite a hole in the bag and suck out the contents. The tortilla dissolves in the sauce and the result, although messy is delicious. It also agreed with me much more than the american food we had in Managua.

Managua to El Rama

El Rama was a very interesting place. My first impressions were that Tarzan must live here, and that we had left civilization behind. Along the way we had contacted some of the congregation in Rama by phone, and they had arranged for two sisters to meet us when we got off the bus. It was dark when we arrived, and I remember seeing one of the sisters out the window gesturing for me to throw my suitcase out the window of the bus so she could catch it. We decided to wait for the crowd to clear off the bus rather than hurling 50lb suitcases out the window.

I was a bit nervous, as Rama is a very busy place especially at the bust terminal and it was well after dark. The sisters took us to a house where there was a gathering going on. As we were walking I heard someone say "Good evening!" It caught my attention because I hadn't heard much English during the past month and a half. "Are you looking for the bus?" said a man with a clipboard. "No, thanks... I'm with them" I replied, and pointed into the crowd. "Oh... ok then" he said. I think he was confused, I was probably the only other white guy in the entire town and somehow had connections. I met him and his group again later in service, I think they were a group of students studying the rainforest and he was the teacher.

When we got to the house there was a big group of people, mostly in their 20s studying for that weeks meeting as a group. They were all regular pioneers from Mexico, and other parts of Nicaragua who were in a program called "La Ruta de Precusores" where the Mexico branch sends pioneers to remote territories for 3 months at a time. The sisters who met us at the bus were from Masaya, Nicaragua and the brother conducting the study was from Veracruz, Mexico. They were a diverse and energetic group and it didn't take us long to make a lot of friends. The sister who owned the house brought everyone food and we got into the study. We hadn't even unpacked and we still had our backpacks, ready to pass out from the exhaustion of carrying our bags halfway across town, but we joined in on the study anyway. 

After the study, one of the brothers there who owned a moto-taxi took us to the home where we would be staying for the next 3 days. The house was made of wooden planks on a concrete pad, with a zinc sheet metal roof. A very typical Nicaraguan home. It didn't have plumbing, but they did have electricity and WiFi. We each got a bed in a room that had a hole in the floor, where there was a pvc pipe that went out to the gutter on the street. This was where we brushed our teeth and shaved. The bathroom had a similar layout, except that it was separate and had a shower curtain to serve as a door, and it had a toilet connected to the sewer.

In the morning we had home made corn tortillas and black coffee for breakfast, then headed off to the service group. In the light of day, Rama is a stunningly beautiful place. Three rivers intersect the town, people who live further out in the country use them for transportation. Long narrow wooden boats (similar to canoes) called dories are used to transporting people and goods across the river and down to the different farms. There are many houses with grass roofs and ones built on stilts, in contrast with the Spanish style houses seen in the western parts of Nicaragua. The gutters are almost big enough to drive in, which gives you a hint about what kind of rains they get. Everywhere there isn't a street or a house is thick jungle. Trees often have vines growing up around the trunk.

The heat was hard to bare. It was much more humid in Rama, and I was getting dizzy even though I drank about a liter of water within a few hours. No one seemed to have a thermometer, all I know is I had never felt heat like that in my life. I didn't know the human body could sweat that much. Despite the heat though we  had a great time in service. The people were very friendly and receptive to the message, it was clear that starting studies here was no challenge.

We stayed for two or three nights. We tried to give the family that we were staying with some money for room and board, but they refused to take it. They really showed how you don't need to be wealthy to be generous.

It was time to go to Bluefields. The road that we came on ends at El Rama. To go any further one must go by boat down the River Escondido. At the main wharf in Rama we bought our tickets to Bluefields. In order to get to Bluefields you have two options. Option one is to get a ticket on a "barco" which is a cargo ship that comes in several sizes. This method costs less, and takes about 6 hours to reach Bluefields. Option two is the Panga. A Panga is a speedboat that can hold about 10-14 people safely. Usually there are 16 passengers plus the driver. This option is a bit more expensive (still very cheap) and takes 2 hours. We took the Panga. Our luggage was placed in the bow of the boat with a plastic tarp over it to keep things dry. We were each given a chunk of orange foam which the captain referred to as a life jacket. After some initial engine trouble we were off. The front end of the boat lifted up off the water and a huge arc of water trailed the boat as we went speeding down the river.

Panga (At the wharf in Bluefields)

The river opened up into the Bay of Bluefields, and we could see the city on our right, and the Caribbean sea on our left. A Creole English speaking brother was waiting for us at the dock, and he took us to a cab. On the way to the cab we walked down several alley ways where larger homes and restaurants with balconies overlooked the narrow walkway, I'm glad we had a guide or it would have been easy to get lost. I had always loved the Jamaican accent and I was thrilled the first time he said "mon".

View of Bluefields from the bay (In the rain)

Bluefields blew my mind. Until this point the further east we traveled  the less modern and the more wild things looked. But Bluefields had paved roads, taxis that were real cars and three story buildings. Despite being notorious for heavy rains Bluefields generally gets a lot of sun, and today was very bright, which really brought out the colors of the buildings. Every building was a different color, deep blue, purple  green... Everything was different though. It seemed like somehow we had ended up in another country. People were speaking English, the architecture was different, the climate was different, and the food was different.

As I mentioned earlier Bluefields has a population somewhere around 70,000. Not more than 100,000 and not less than 30,000. Although Spanish is still the official language here, many of the local people speak English as their first language, although many consider it to be a different language and call it Creole, because of the dialect and heavy accent. I stayed here for three memorable months, helping in the English congregation. I stayed with a local Creole family whose kindness and hospitality I will never forget. I'm sure they saved my life a few times thanks to their advice and care which helped me to thrive in a completely foreign environment. My travelling companion, Dai Jun continued on to Corn island where he served in a Spanish congregation.

Kingdom hall in Bluefields

View of Bluefields from the Clair home

Memorial Season

During the month and a half in La Concha we asked the circuit overseer and some local brothers about where specifically within Nicaragua we should go to help. They gave us the names of a few places, some of which we were able to go and visit for a few days at a time, including Masaya and Santa Teresa.

La Concha Kingdom Hall

Service in Sta. Teresa

Territory in La Concha

During this time I really had very little idea what was going on. I had taken Spanish in school and thought I learned a fair amount. after getting there I quickly realized that I had learned nothing at all. I felt like a child, not understanding what was going on around me, and relying on the brothers I worked with in service at the doors. It was some time before I was even able to take calls. I remember my taking my first door in Spanish, it was every bit as scary as taking my first door in Canada when I was an unbaptized publisher, if not more so. The woman I spoke to was very friendly and accepted the magazines, but probably didn't understand any of what I was trying to say. Approach work was also terrifying, it was like I was doing everything for the first time all over again. Eventually the memorial campaign began and I was able to memorize a short presentation for the invite, which took some of the pressure off.

Taking my a door in Spanish

It was a slow process, but over time my Spanish improved and I even got to know some of the Spanish speaking brothers and sisters in the congregation. Looking back I really learned a lot in a short period of time through immersion, but it was still the hardest thing I've ever done. There were times when I wanted to give up, and times when I thought I would throw myself under a bus if I heard one more Spanish word. The memorial in La Concha had well over 300 in attendance, the congregation having just over 80 publishers.

The brother who gave the talk at the memorial was from a city on the east coast called Bluefields, which was one of the places we had been considering going to next, and in fact was the home town of the Nicaraguan sister in Canada that first told us about the need. He gave us some contact information and a few days after the memorial we left for Bluefields.