Ometepe

Ometepe is an island. It is located in the middle of Central America’s largest lake, Lake Nicaragua (the only place in the world, coincidentally, that is also home to the world’s only freshwater sharks). The island is home to two volcanoes, Maderas y Concepción, in addition to some 8,000 people.
Here on the island, I am staying at the Finca Magdalena, a charming old farmhouse which is run by a small cooperative. The farmhouse, which has individual rooms, hammocks, dorms, and an unassuming kitchen, overlooking a fabulous garden, the lake, and the volcano, is 120 years old. It was the property of the Somozas, the ruling family dictatorship that was in power some 40 years before the revolution (who also owned some 70% of the country’s natural resources by the late 70’s). Since that time, it has been redistributed to local farmers, and since 1983, has been run by the cooperative of the Finca
As I walked up the rocky mud path yesterday morning, I felt like I was entering a wonderland. My impression has not changed. Just after my arrival, I asked to meet and was introduced to Santos Rivera, the current president of the cooperative. He sat with me, and smiled, and told me of the history of the island, the farm, and the cooperative. He invited me to accompany him and others to harvest coffee this morning, scanning the bushes for the cherries that are beginning to mature, to change from hard green nubs, to soft, sweet, crimson grapes.
I am amazed by the felicity of the people that I have met here. It is like in every moment I can see promotional pictures. Not because they are not poor, or because their conditions are wonderful, but because the feeling that they exude is endearing, making one feel part of the community, as if you have always been here, even as they ask you questions about where you are from and what you are doing in Nicaragua. Don Cesar’s toothless smile, Felix’ firm handshake, Aljeri’s quiet conversation. I feel comfortable and interested, learning the names of all the people working and hanging out here at the farm, who live and call this place part of their daily lives. It feels homey and communal, providing work and leisure, with kids and old folks gathered in circles of plastic chairs, talking and laughing with each other, as the tourists laze around with their books or backgammon.
In the afternoon, I was invited, along with three other people staying at the Finca, to participate in the inauguration of the Presa, a small dam built this year be the cooperative, which will be used for both drip irrigation and a swimming hole for tourists. It is an unassuming swimming hole, in a leafy green shaded clearing, the perfect place to spend an afternoon in cold spring water, and then languish on the rocks. Even as outsiders, as tourists, we were encouraged, spoken to, enjoyed, teased slightly. Brought into this local celebration of a place that will be used by tourists, but which today, belonged only to the community, decorated with balloons, where food and guaro (a moonshine made from sugar cane) were passed around, loosening everyone up until the fun turned to people throwing each other into the water, enjoying and christening the pool. I feel blessed to have been allowed into this place, these lives, this celebration, and made to feel a part of it.
At the end of the fiesta, Francisca, whom I had just met picking coffee this morning, approached me, clearly not wanting to interrupt a conversation that I was having, but wanting to tell me something. I excused myself, and she informed me that tomorrow she “is of her birthday”, and is having a small get together. She would appreciate it if I, and Matt, who accompanied me harvesting coffee, would come to her house and join her and her family for dinner. She would like for us to share her birthday with her. I’m sure that I will have much more to write about that amazing experience tomorrow evening.
Acogedor is a word in Spanish that seems to have no translation. Loosely, it could be said to mean endearing, taking in, grabbing, taking up, among other things. It is the word that I feel best describes the Nicaraguans that I have met, and how they have reacted to me. Me han acogido, they have taken me up, taken me in, taken care of me. Each place, each family that I have visited, has made me feel at home. This place is no different, and I am so thankful for this opportunity, and for their treatment of me. Que acogedor, y que maravilla ser acogida asi.