The weekend of swearing in was very interesting and eventful including lots of press coverage, pool parties, discoteca dancing, and even a meeting televised live with The President of Nicaragua.. We had finished three intensive months of learning a new language, adapting to a new culture, and becoming close with both other volunteers and the families with whom we were living. Finally after this weekend we would have no more all day classes and lessons followed by evening activities to complete projects and presentations.
We had the first event at the Holiday Inn in the capital city, Managua. There, our Nica families and loads of Peace Corps staff came to celebrate our swearing in, the 50th anniversary of the Peace Corps, and the 30th anniversary of the Peace Corps in Nicaragua. [Not related: I find the whole “30th/50th anniversary” ridiculous as completely arbitrary numbers are a cause for celebration while no one cares for, say, the 38th year… I just don’t understand some things.] After awards were given to the families for hosting us, we were sworn in swearing to defend the US against all enemies foreign and domestic, given pins, and ta da we could move on to the next step.
This event had dozens of reporters and cameramen present because it was all those arbitrary anniversaries and there were some important people in the room like heads of international affairs and ambassadors and whatnot… After our turn, people were given awards based on years of service or other special people in the audience. One woman in the audience was a volunteer in the first Peace Corps group in Nicaragua and my host mom shared a cool little story with me about her. Apparently when my host mom was a child this volunteer was in her town and taught someone in the town to make soymilk. Now, years later, my mom and the whole community now know how to make soy milk and understand the nutritional benefits of soy.
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| Good ole' Elba and Louis |
We spent the afternoon in our Country Director’s home celebrating our swearing in with various staff from the Peace Corps and eating some tasty food sans rice and beans for once. Evening came, and we boarded the busses for our meeting with President Daniel Ortega. None of us really knew what to expect and were all very excited because he’d never had a meeting with the Peace Corps before and the US and Nicaragua have a very turbulent history including a war within the lifetime of most adults in Nicaragua. We arrived at a government building and were told to leave our cameras in the bus and proceeded to enter the building. We walked right into the meeting room to meet with President Ortega. I distinctly remember how bogus it was not walking through metal detectors, emptying pockets, or nearly and level of security you’d expect to have prior to meeting the most powerful man of one’s nation.
We walked in to this meeting room, tables formed in a rectangle with the short ends occupied by youth supporters all sporting the same political t-shirts. We sit, wait about 20 minutes in this absolutely freezing cold room with four massive cameras ready to air our meeting live on television for the whole country to see. President Ortega walks in and does a lap around the room shaking everyone’s’ hands. When I had told my parents that we were scheduled to meet the President, the first thing my father (a collector of autographed baseballs, a serious collector) asked me was to ask the President to sign a baseball for him.
Well, I had a baseball in my pocket at this point shuffling through my fingers, debating in my mind whether or not to go through with it. He comes closer, I take it out, whisper to those around me “Do I do it? Do I do it?” Replies, “no Zac don’t it” “put it away” and then I got the go ahead from one volunteer (usually all I need to try just about anything) and it was game on. Mr. President comes around to shake my hand, I bust out the baseball and pen for his signature, ask him in shaky Spanish if he’d gift me his signature, and without hesitation he took the ball and signed “Daniel” onto it. He asked me what my favorite baseball team was and I remember having to ask him to repeat it 2 maybe 3 times because I wasn’t ready to be fielding questions from the President, slightly nervous, and the whole Spanish language thing on top of everything. Unfortunately afterwards, his autograph got slightly smudged during transport, but it’s the thought that counts. You can still see it pretty clearly (I'll post a photo when I get the ball back from safe keeping in the PC office).
The President, his wife, and daughter took a seat in the center seats and the meeting began. After welcoming everyone, he took out papers, looked them over and went down the list of names in the room from the papers. It started very normal, saying hello to the higher ups in the room - the ambassador, PC country director, 2nd in line in PC Nica, etc… After the higher ups had their diplomatic and politically correct answers and conversations, he then continued down the list to the PC staff asking what sector they worked in and general info about them, asking one Environmental woman what was the biggest problem with Nicaragua and her very safe reply of trash. I was just so glad he didn’t ask me that question as I’m sure I would have said something stupid and offensive. Sometimes it pays always being at the end of any list of names (Zac Wessler). Then President Ortega began down the list of newly sworn in volunteers, completely shocking us because we were not expecting anything of the sort and also because there were roughly 45 volunteers that he would be going through.
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| Mmmmm Cake |
The questions were more or less the same per person with anecdotes or tangents whenever he wished – Where are you from? Where are you going to be working in Nicaragua? What sector are you working in? How long will you be here for? What kind of previous experience do you have/Where did you work prior? Some interviews went better than others as the language levels within the 45 of us fluctuated drastically. My conversation went smooth, saying thank you for the signature, saying I was from Connecticut (another volunteer before me from CT as well had to repeat himself and say CO-NNECT-I-CUT several times before me, so when I said Connecticut there was a little chuckle), telling him I’ll be moving to the Island, him saying that climbing the volcanoes is dangerous and a little tangent, and telling him where I worked prior. All in all not bad.
Three hours later, bathroom starved, hungry, and somewhat high from that exciting meeting, we went back to the hotel and fiesta’ed. Pool parties and going to an outdoor discoteca for the night ended with laughing, dancing, and all sorts of fun.
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