The Days Here are Full, and Fuller Are Our Minds

The Days Here are Full, and Fuller Are Our Minds

by Eleanor Kane

Ellie Kane is a member of South Church Unitarian Universalist in Portsmouth, NH. She is currently in Nicaragua with nine others from her church on an immersion journey of spirit and solidarity with out partner FEM.

Nicaragua RainbowIf the first aspect of Nicaragua that left us stunned was warm air, green trees, and the difference from the cold of home, quickly on the heels of that moment came a succession of others: a view of churning magma in the caldera of a volcano, a double rainbow over Lago Xolotlán, and the women we have met so far.  The days here are full, and fuller are our minds after each meeting.  We have learned of organizations that originated with a dozen women and have grown to change the lives of thousands, spoke with women inspired by the social change around them and have dedicated their lives to joining in, and heard of the odds they face, the culture around them that so resists their work, and the long road they have ahead of them to walk.

 

Dinner becomes discussions of hegemony, neoliberalism, and what feminism means to us and to Nicaraguans.  In the space of those differences and the meetings of that overlap, we dwell in the murk of deconstruction, unlearning what we thought we knew, leaving us grasping for an understanding that leads to questions upon questions.  Where we look for answers in conversation and long discussions as a group, in twos and threes, in our journals and the quiet moments of the day, what we find is openings for more wonder, so that we start each day full of the need to know more.

Each morning brings another opportunity to learn, and in our discussions with the women here, we see ourselves, the challenges facing our countries one and the same, differentiated by scale and magnitude, but in pursuit of the same goal. 

South Church Portsmouth GroupIn all of us lies a mirrored determination and resolve, and we emerge from each day, each conversation, each encounter re-energized and inspired over again. There is more to absorb here than can be done in a week, and more to talk about than we can cover in a day, and as we near the midpoint of our trip, our challenge turns from absorbing these stories to carrying them back home with us.  How we will represent this experience to others is nearly impossible, to put into words all that we have seen and learned, the stories with which we have been entrusted.  But as difficult a task as lays ahead of us in bringing this week back with us, brought back it will be, for this already has been unforgettable, and we still have days ahead.

My Return to Nicaragua

My Return to Nicaragua

Nicaragua is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been – stunning landscapes of mountains, beaches, jungles, and patch-worked small farms sweep up and down the hillsides everywhere.

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The mountains surrounding Matagalpa

But most beautiful to me is the spirit of the Nicaraguan people: though I know all the perils of generalizations, I have found them to be exceptionally generous with strangers, deeply determined around issues of social justice, and infused with a wicked sense of humor.

I lived in Nicaragua for six months in 1984-85, working with Witness for Peace to try to end the U.S.-supported Contra war, and as part of that effort returned several time for shorter stays. But last week was my first visit in over 25 years, as I worked to set up new partner relationships in preparation for our first delegation May 21-28, 2016: https://uucsj.org/journeys/nicaragua/.

In a collaboration with Equal Exchange, we have developed a remarkable opportunity for U.S. citizens to learn about economic justice in the face of looming climate change, and to ask with us the larger question: What does solidarity between our countries look like at this particular moment of history?

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Augusto Cabrillo Obregon, a campesino near Esteli, describes the impact of climate change on his farm.

In the course of one short week, I met with over a dozen organizations: fair trade cooperatives, women’s empowerment collectives, human rights organizations and environmental justice groups. I witnessed the ways climate change is already drastically impacting coffee farms, and the measures that organic cooperatives are taking to try to survive. I heard the stories of impassioned campesina women as they told me about the connections they have learned to see between violence against women and violence against the earth. Courageous human rights workers told me about the deepening crisis they see in the corruption of their government and its many alliances with big business. And in the mountains around Matagalpa, I heard of the struggle against a new goldmine that would destroy the watershed of the Yaoska River.

 

I am excited to be part of this new program, linking justice activists to one another across distance and culture, across decades of colonial violence and more recent economic violence, in exploration and discernment together. What does solidarity look like, in this moment of history? Join us for the journey, and help us find out!

This blog post was written by Rev. Kathleen McTigue, Director at the UU College of Social Justice (UUCSJ).