25 February 2004

Dear All,

It was a culture shock, arriving at 3.30am Nicaraguan time in a slightly smaller, slightly more rustic house than the one I had left behind. My first insight of San Fransico Libre was inevitably shrouded by the shadow of night, but I immediately appreciated the difficulty of filming such a scattered community. Small wooden houses, straggle along the side of a slow moving road, with only painted signs to distinguish a house from a health centre.

As I expected but hoped not the communication front had a bit of a shaky start. What with time boundaries and the understated joys of eight hours in Miami airport, my grasp of the English let alone Spanish language went rather to pot. For my part I identified with the uneven, dodgy road that winds its way towards the town, my Spanish being at best uneven and dodgy. Anyway I arrived, fell asleep and woke up.

To risk using a cliché poor people are kind people. The reason I use it, is so often it is invariably true and most certainly it is here. The people are poor, you all know it, I knew it, but now I can appreciate it. However, and more importantly they are kind, dignified and elegant. Every day the children polish their shoes and iron a clean shirt, even though for many the process of getting to school will probably leave them dusty upon arrival. I suppose it is simply a matter of caring and taking pride in something. Leading on from kids arriving at school, it makes sense to mention my own involvement.

I have been helping in English and Physical Education Classes in the school for over a week now. It is keeping my afternoons not only busy, as I probably have every timetabled lesson, but making them enjoyable. As you can imagine a white guy from England has a small novelty effect but having played football and proved myself a ‘hombre’ all I can say is positives about the place, the staff and the kids. Enthusiasm for school is certainly something I haven't seen for a while. It's infectious. It's hard not to laugh if everyone else is laughing. I still find it weird though teaching English to a forty year old in a class with an average age of 17.

I'm living with the family of a lady called Carmen. Fortunately as I have taken to the laid back, manana lifestyle, the house is next to the school and the sports pitch. Hence as I'm sure my mum will be glad to hear I do not have to over-exert myself getting to school every day. Carmen has three daughters, Diane, Brenda and Evon, who is still at school, a married son Jimmy, who lives elsewhere and whose own son Stephen is a great source of entertainment. I have already dubbed him the ‘pequeno monstru’. Living in a household of women is an experience with drawbacks, too much volleyball not enough football, but I'm slowly re-educating them on that front. Despite this issue everything on that front is going well, they are kind, generous and individual, and I can even exchange sarcastic remarks with the youngest, particularly over the question of pronunciation. It's amazing how funny a Nicaraguan can be saying the word “the”; it's probably the same the other way around also.

Small town Nicaragua has a lot to offer and much to be offered. It is beautiful; the views from the local loma (hill), across the lake to the perfect pyramid volcanoes are stunning. The weather is very hot, the forecast being even more repetitive than the Caribbean, hot, hot and hot. The dangers of which, I learnt yesterday forgetting my sun cream whilst playing football, but at least I don't look “pasty white” to quote my dad.

I will enjoy living and working here, hopefully they'll enjoy having me, you'll enjoy hearing from me and my radio will keep working as long as Arsenal keep winning.

Julian Stutley,
San Francisco Libre