El Chompipe (the turkey)

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Thanks to Google Maps we were able to find the village of El Chompipe quite easily. Google Maps gave us a satellite view of the houses and school we helped build. If not for the map we’d have been lost as nothing on the way was how we remembered it. The road that was once horrendous to drive on is now beautifully paved for more than half of the way (with the rest under construction) and tiny townships have sprung up along the road.

Driving along anticipating El Chompipe around the next corner was nerve-wracking. Would the houses and school still be standing? Would families still be there? Would they remember us? Would our Spanish be up to scratch? I’d forgotten how beautiful the surroundings of El Chompipe were. It is nestled among high, green hills with broad spreading rain trees.

As we first spotted the village it took a few seconds before we were certain we had the right place. The houses were still standing but the wood was now faded to grey and families had added on extensions and verandahs; and chicken coops, pig pens and fruit trees now surrounded the houses. Nonetheless we recognised the distinctive style of the houses including the half-walls made of stone and concrete (for protection against Contra attacks). The Nicaraguans called these “mini-faldas” (skirts). We’d headed-up the concrete crew so were proud and surprised to see the concrete floors and walls still in pretty good shape.

There were also numerous new houses, several made of brick, including one on the main road which was also the corner shop. We stopped here and started asking about the people we’d known 23 years ago. The young woman looked at as blankly until we asked after Dona Mercedes and Don Fausto. Yes, they lived in the next house but were out working on their farm, but at the house we met the couples’ grand-daughter. When we introduced ourselves she said that her grandparents had told her about us. In the next house we also met another grand-daughter, Rosa. We’d known both their mothers as young unmarried women. Unfortunately most of the working age adults, including their mothers, were off for the week, higher up in the mountains, picking coffee for cash.

Rosa walked with us to the farm to see her grandparents. We had walked this road everyday for 8 months coming and going from the old hacienda where we stayed to the building site. The school we’d help build was still there but had been renovated by the government and painted the government colours – white and blue. An aid agency had build a footbridge 3 years ago across the river we used to bath in but this year rains had been severe and the river had flooded, destroying corn crops and washing away the new bridge.

New houses stood along the road – most were new residents to the area who had bought a piece of land to build on and farm. Each plot of land was now divided by barbed-wire fencing. From what Rosa told us the population of the community has changed a lot. Only three of the original 20 families remain (plus some of their children who have also stayed and started their own families); most families have moved to other parts of Nicaragua and some to Costa Rica. Yet the population has quadrupled from about 100 in 1987 to over 400 now.

During the war El Chompipe was a farming cooperative set up for landless peasants on an estate of an absent landlord. The government had given the farmers the land and paid the landlord based on the value he’d given on his tax returns. But unfortunately the cooperative did not last long. The land and cattle had been divided up between the families sometime after the conservative Chamorro Government came to power. The old hacienda had been torn down in some dispute. We didn’t fully understand the tension, and felt best not to pry, but it sounds as if the division was quite acrimonious and explains why most of the families we’d known had left. One of our old friends, Dona Irena, later explained in her matter of fact way that the cooperative ended because some families liked to work hard and others didn’t.

Near where the hacienda used to stand we saw Dona Mercedes cutting firewood. Now 68 years, she’s a little greyer and a little broader – but otherwise exactly the same. Amazingly she remembered us straight away. She leapt into rapid, colloquial Spanish explaining all the changes and mutual, old friends. We tried to follow everything she said while also avoiding the machete she flapped around as she talked. Don Fausto was tending a sick cow (which seems close to death) and he was clearly upset about the animal – one of a small herd they have. Back at their house Dona Mercedes fed us frijoles, arroz, tortillas, and guadalajada (white cheese) just like we used to have every day on the cooperative. Jackson had a very small taste of campesino life by carrying Dona Mercedes firewood back to their house – much to the delight of Dona Mercedes and Don Fausto.

In the afternoon we visited another family who had now relocated high up on a nearby hill – Dona Irena and Don Bonifacio. Most of their 13 children have moved away but one daughter and several of their more than 100 grandkids and great-grandkids (and 1 great-great-grandchild) live at El Chompipe. We’d worked closely with two of their sons, Carlos and Ramon, and one of Dona Mercedes’ daughters Brenda. We were therefore pretty happy to hear Brenda and Ramon had married.

It was wonderful to have the chance to go back and to take Jackson with us. It was disappointing that so many people we’d known were no longer there – especially one of our best friends, Adaluz, and the young children we used to play with (who would now be in their late 20s and early 30s). It was rewarding to see the community had grown and the houses, school and water system still functioned. Life was better; as Dona Irena said they can now work during the day and sleep at night without fear. The staple foods are the same but in more abundance. We remember when people didn’t have enough to give their families three meals a day. And they have a few more clothes and those that can afford it have electricity. The new paved road means better access to town, markets and medical facilities, and seasonal work like the coffee picking would be bringing in cash income.

Yet after 20 years of a conservative government life is still pretty tough. The old couples we knew are still working extremely hard despite their age – it seems unfair that all their hard work hasn’t eventuated in a better lifestyle. Not surprisingly, they are still strong supporters of the Sandinistas and have hope that the current Ortega Government will bring change. It was hard to leave knowing it is very unlikely we will ever return again. They all said we had to come back and it was hard to explain just how far away Australia is.

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Comments

[Michaela]

re-visiting Nicaragua
Hi Jenny, Andrew and Jackson What a great experience to revisit this community. I feel inspired by their hard work and the hope for the future that the community holds - Thanks for these interesting blogs. Michaela xx

[Andrew R]

Wow - great to have the chance to revisit. Scary exciting weird wistful fun and strange.