I go over it about 15 times a day, and after the first few recounts the conversations turned into something like this: "Monday we did this, Tuesday we went there... Yeah, we had a lot of rice and beans... You're right it IS unfortunate I don't like rice and beans... Yes, the communal showers were a first... NO, I did not enjoy the monkey's presence, I mean have you met me? I can't believe my camera broke the first day... Of course I made friends - the other Brigadistas were incredible people... I learned a lot and, absolutely, I'm glad I went... Yeah, a real volcano!!!"

And on it goes...

When asked all these questions, it gets easier and easier to just go through the motions, answer yes and no, and become hardened to the actual experience I went through while in Nicaragua. It's becoming easier and easier to not get emotional when I talk about the kids, and not feel guilty when I have a steaming hot 15-minute shower. It's certainly easier to stick to the tourist sites in conversations, and not delve into the awful reality of it all.

But no matter what, even if I don't clearly convey all of the intense things I saw there to other people, I will still have that knowledge myself. In a previous entry, I wrote a little bit about the bus we traveled on and the many prudent and far-sighted thoughts written on the walls and ceilings. The one about knowing and never not knowing will forever stay with me, and I honestly have thought about it every day since I've been back. I also explained my query as to what I could possibly write to pass on what I got out of my experience.

The night that everybody went out with a flashlight and a permapen, I stayed up on the roof and hung out with those who had finished already. I thought about what to write, and I finally came to realize that NOTHING could possibly convey what this trip meant to me. The dust, the dirt, the clinic, the bugs, the kids, the dedication, and the ever present sense of hope through despair... There is no way to write how I feel about that experience, and the amazing people I shared it with, not on a bus, in a blog, or even a book.

However, the next morning, after my final sleep on a mattress as thick as a one-subject notebook, surrounded by two snorers who could give even my Dad a run for his money, and my last breakfast of whole-grain bread (the whole me not liking rice and beans thing was exceptionally difficult in the mornings), I hopped on the bus with Ms. Morgan Newman and left my mark, realizing that it doesn't really matter what I leave in Nicaragua, but what I take from it.

Well, I'm sure you all know that I could write for days, but back in the real (or maybe not so much) world, Religion 280 readings beckon. Thanks for taking the time to read our blogs, I hope some of our stories touched you as they touched us. Much gratitude to those who helped fund my trip and donated medical supplies and medication.

Remember, BNB can ALWAYS use donations - the clinic is constantly in need and with time and monetary aid the engineering project WILL become a reality! On a final note, have HOPE for "Nueva Vida" - the people, the place and their spirit.

Peace, Love, Recycle!

And always remember and act accordingly, as the JHC school bus now reads,

"We Were Not Blessed With This Gift Of Life Simply To Be Spectators In It"
MaryKate Moore BNB March 2007