I was on the cement crew this morning, shoveling wet sand into the concrete forms, and a little time scraping the hardened stuff off the boards on which the blocks set and bake in the sun. As if it were not dry and dusty enough, I think I now have black lung disease. I blew a hanky full of dirt out of my nose - no kidding - and I am especially glad that I didn't bother to bring my contact lenses, because my eyes are also full of grit.

One thing I have to say today is how impressed I am with the students who came on this trip. They could be frolicking on Daytona Beach, but noooo! They are here working their cojones off and I have not heard a single word of complaint about anything. All you brigadista moms and dads out there have much reason to be proud of your sons and daughters.

This morning before work, we listened to a speaker who is an economist, and he explained, among other things, the pitfalls of CAFTA. Once again, the developing countries come up on the short end. CAFTA creates more problems for Central America than it addresses, and I cannot help but wonder what it will take for the American people to stand up to its bullying government and say that enough is enough.

Speaking of taking unfair advantage, here is a snapshot of irony--> in all of the markets we have visited, one can find some of the poorest people on earth trying to eke out a living by selling Nikes and other sweatshop-manufactured athletic shoes. Think about that for a minute...

There is a fabric mill being built to make cloth for the women's sewing cooperative to use to make the clothing they sell. Sounds great, right? But the workers who are eventually employed there will be among the many thousands in Nicaragua who work for a pittance. At least they have a job? That is kinda of like saying a stray dog at least has some garbage to eat so it should be happy that it is not starving to death - quite yet.

The crew of Nicaraguans who worked with us this morning seemed to get a real kick out of how awkward most of us are with shovels and other tools of hard labor. I said to one woman, "No hago esta todos los dias en America, trabajo a un escritorio." Translation: "I don't do this all day in America, I work at a desk." She thought that was pretty funny. But it's amazing how quickly one can get into the rhythm of the process and learn what to do. So, when I get back home, I am available for making concrete blocks!

Time now for my afternoon shift. My belly is full of, you guessed it, beans and rice, and Nicaraguan style guacamole - it has eggs in it - and a scrumptious salsa/salad made of tomatoes, onions, and cucumbers. Tomorrow is a field trip day so I might not get to blogging.

We'll tell you all about in the upcoming segments!