A Different Kind of “Survivor Nicaragua”
My biggest adventure of 2011 started with a simple question from Holly, my 21-year-old daughter: “Mom, can you help me find a summer internship?” With her major being in International Studies, and my contacts in that line of work being very limited, it was a somewhat daunting idea. Still, I’ve always been a soft touch when it comes to requests from my daughters, and I agreed to help, though I had no idea how I’d pull it off. But, I figured, you never know what might happen when you open yourself up to possibilities.
Shortly after that request from Holly, I met a man named Michael Judd, who’d agreed to teach a course in permaculture at the nature preserve in northern Virginia where I was working at that time. Imagine my surprise when I soon learned that, in addition to operating his Maryland landscaping service featuring “food forests” of edible plants, he had founded a nonprofit organization to bring similar types of agricultural techniques to a small community named Balgue on Ometepe Island in Nicaragua. That organization, called Project Bona Fide, uses the principles of agro-ecology to promote food security, education, and re-forestation in Nicaragua. I was excited to learn that the project’s farm, Finca Bona Fide, is a 43-acre research and educational operation that provides unpaid internship opportunities in the summertime. To my delight, it was not long before Holly was making plans to spend several months at the farm.
In a flurry of activity last spring, I plundered my own gear closet and took Holly shopping in order to cobble together the supplies she would need for survival on a rustic farm in a Central American country: tent, mosquito net, sleeping bag, air mattress, headlamp, convertible pants, rugged sandals, wicking shirts and shorts, biodegradable soap, etc. And everything had to fit in her backpack, because she’d need to walk up a dirt road from the bus stop in Balgue to the farm. Suitably outfitted, she was soon boarding the plane for the experience of a lifetime. Following stints on an airplane, a taxi, a bus, and a ferry, she finally landed on Ometepe Island at the colorful town of Moyogalpa, clinging to the slopes of a looming, verdant, cloud-capped Volcan Concepcion.
Not one to be left out of such a fantastic adventure, I made my own plans to travel to Nicaragua at the end of the summer and “pick her up” from her internship. Accompanied by my older daughter, Dana, we made plans to join Holly for a 10-day whirlwind trip of Ometepe Island and the nearby Nicaraguan countryside and communities.
It was tremendous fun, with adventures by the minute. Even navigating dinner menus can be a challenge when you “habla Espanol un poco.” Somehow we managed, and our reward was hiking in the cloud forest of Volcan Mombacho, bargain hunting for souvenirs at the market in Masaya, testing new delicacies at every meal (like yummy dragonfruit juice and fried plantains called tostones), swimming in a crystal clear pool called Ojo de Agua, hearing howler monkeys in nearby trees, meeting Holly’s friends in Balgue, and enjoying the lush scenery and volcanic silhouettes.
As for Holly, she lost ten pounds and gained a whole new crop of muscles, endured numerous insect bites, managed to live in very rustic accommodations for several months, and forged great relationships with Nicaraguan friends. In my eyes, she gives a whole new meaning to “Survivor Nicaragua,” and I couldn’t be prouder.
