Adventures with Peter Pan

A while back I wrote about the night watchmen (a.k.a vigilantes) that ride around on bikes, blowing whistles in certain neighborhoods to keep guard. Well, the other night I was walking down the street with a friend and we took note that there was a new whistleblower in the neighboorhood. ¨What´s this?¨ we asked ourselves and decided to investigate by interviewing the vigilante we knew. But first we had to ask his name and the conversation went a little something like this;

Como se llama Ud? (What is your name?)
Me llamo Pedro, pero me llaman Peter Pan (I call myself Pedro, but they call me Peter Pan)

Surely we were destined for magic.

We talked with Peter Pan for awhile. He gave us a brief history of nearly every building on the street (mind you, Granada, Nicaragua is the oldest city in the New World and, once upon a time, a very wealthy one). The conversation was nothing less than informative until he started talking about La Casona, la casa embrujada (the haunted house).

Here is the story according to Peter Pan and others:

A long time ago a wealthy family lived in this two story colonial mansion called La Casona. The daughter was in love with a poor man, but her family did not approve and would not allow her to marry him. Instead, they arranged a marriage with a wealthier man she did not love. On the day of her wedding, she hung herself off the balcony inside of the house. Now, every night at one in the morning you can hear the sound of church music playing from the house, although no one lives there and there is nothing inside of the house. Peter Pan claimed that he once saw the ghost with long white hair peering out the window.

Spooky!

The detail that really caught our attention is that you can hear the music every night at one a.m.
My friend and I decided we would go check it out with Peter Pan.

So, this mansion called La Casona does have owners and caretakers. The owners are Colombian and only come but once a year and the rest of the time a nightwatchmen sits outside the house and only employees can enter to clean.

We arrived at La Casona a little before 1 and waited for the music. And waited a little more. And just at the point that I started doubting my gullability radar, the music began. It was, I think, organ music. The song lasted for about 30 seconds and was quite chaotic and fast, not to mention creepy!

The nightwatchmen for La Casona seemed unphased. He said that he hears it every night. Peter Pan was very happy that he proved his assertion.

Ten minutes later the music began again. The same song was playing, only softer and farther in the distant but still coming from the house.

At first I thought this must be a really bizarre grandfather´s clock, but how do you explain the frequency and change of volume? Intent on solving this puzzle, I decided I needed to check out the inside of the house (in the daytime, of course).

Two days later, after telling my Spanish teacher about the haunting event, we were walking down the street next to the house and he noticed that there was a watchmen up on the balcony. I shouted up to him asking if there were any instruments or furniture inside the house. He said no. Then the mailman came and the maid came outside. My teacher, who knew the lady from his neighborhood, convinced her that I am just a poor American girl that wants to go into the house. No photos, we promised.

Without much haggling, my wish was granted. I went inside and sure enough, there was virtually nothing. No organ, no piano and only a few pieces of furniture and a cd player (which the maid said she brings with her when she cleans...suspicious?). The maid said she had never heard the music before, but the watchman had and had seen a ghost moving through the house in the daytime. Supposedly, a group of Costa Rican documentarians came to make a film about all things paranormal, which featured the house. Also, the Colombian owners have never heard the music when they sleep in the house and don´t believe in the ghost music.

With all my powers of induction, I am going to get to the bottom of this before I go. Looks like I might need some ghostbusters to help. If interested, please contact me.

long time, no blog...

Well to play catch up I´ll just relay a bit of my day in the Nica way.
Two weeks ago I started volunteering with a non-profit organization called La Esperanza
www.la-esperanza-granada.org/

I work in the afternoons at a rural public school called La Inmaculada. It is in a barrio called La Prusia (I don´t know if this has any relation to the Kingdom of Prussia). To get there I walk 15 minutes (or shall I say swim) in 100 degree heat-index humidity to the cementery and then proceed to, literally and figuratively, catch the bus. This is yet another clever Nica transportation trick. So much gas is wasted in stalling engines, so to avoid that extraneous use of diesel the buses slow to a rolling non-stop. A man hanging out the side herds people onto the slowly moving bus while repeatedly and hurriedly shouting the destination ¨Masaya, Masaya, Masaya, Masaya!!!!¨
Then, once you pass this test of speed and skill you must push your way through the center aisle of the bus and grab onto a bar overhead. I like to think of the center aisle as the birth canal because in order to get off the bus you must push very hard and determinedly.

After a fifteen minute ride I dismount the moving bus as quickly as I hopped on and then walk another fifteen minutes on a horse trail to get to the school. This footpath is currently under threat of being closed down by its supposed owner, an Australian developer who is trying to build a luxury home subdivision amidst poverty and squalor. One ramification of such an action would include (but is not limited to) blocking access to a public school which already has a very low attendance rate due to the fact that most of the children work on their parents farms during the day and have to make quite a trek just to get to school.

So, some of the teachers have gone to the city government to complain.

Once I get to school, I work as areading, writing and math tutor and art teacher with first grade students (ages 6 to 9). As already mentioned, public schools are only in session for half days yet year round. However, the total absence of structure and organization means that one some days these ninos only get a lump sum of half an hour of school. The four and half hour day is interrupted by a luxurious 45 minute recess, physical education and art classes that volunteers teach and the usual ¨Uh oh, let´s give up and go home two hours early because it looks like it might rain¨ afternoon off.

Not to mention this school has a shortage of everything including water some days. I bring extra with me and give it to the kids.

The kids are the custodians at their school so on some days they come to school and clean. Needless to say, it´s not a very clean school and I am still of the persuassion that child labor is a bad idea.

Because of the lack of resources, I feel of extra value volunteering at this school. I have already met some of my lofty goals that I originally wrote about when applying for this scholarship. My first week I worked with a student named Sergio and he read his first book with me. This was a really warm and fuzzy moment, especially when I let him sign his name in his first book and walked him back to class and he begged me to let him borrow the book so he could proudly read it to his parents. So cute.

Due to the absence of formal class time, some volunteers and I decided to start up a reading club during recess. Today was the first day and it looks like it is going to be a success. Fortunately La Esperanza has a decent collection of books in Spanish, but could always use more. Books are a much needed commodity here. Strangely, Librerias (Spanish for bookstore) don´t actually have books to read. They carry school supplies like notebooks and pencils instead. I asked my Spanish instructor where I can get my hands on a book in this town and he couldn´t really give me an answer. In fact, that question prompted a conversation about how strange foreigners seem when they are spotted reading a book for leisure in this country. He asked me why I read books and I asked him why he watches movies. He now tells me he wants to join the reading club.

I did go to the public library here, but it was yet another disappointment. For a city with some 150,000 people, there is about a one book to 100 people ratio.

Fortunately the newspaper is alive and well-read and has been the source of much thought and discussion in my Spanish classes here. More on that later.

On the topic of books, this blog entry is turning into a bit of a novel, so I think I will publish this post and call it a night.