War Torn

When we stayed in France for three months in 2007, we lived in a tiny village that had been invaded during WWII, and our apartment and the school that John attended had been some of the buildings taken over by the invading troops.
It was a surreal feeling wandering those ancient streets, passing by the 13th Century church that still has daily services, and greeting the residents; many who were sure to remember war in their town.
Living in a place with people who remember war at their door
is a sobering experience.
Visiting The Netherlands, we discovered a country filled with beautiful canals, spectacular art, and wonderous tulips.  It was also the home of Anne Frank, and touring her home was heartbreaking.
We have our home in the southwest; where the descendents of so many Native Americans struggle and strive to remember the ways of their repressed ancestors, where many elders still remember the Indian Schools that forced them to cut their hair, denied them the use of their languages, and attempted to "civilize" them.
And now we visit Nicaragua, remembered for the 1979 Sandinista Revolution.  We toured a museum yesterday, with a guide who gave one version of the war, while we were painfully aware of the other side of that fight.  The city no longer has a central downtown area, following a major earthquake in 1972, and without a "center-point", I am disoriented being in a city so tough to get my bearings.  Roads wind around residential neighborhoods, passing modern malls, within blocks of street vendors.  Horse-drawn carts are common.  We visited the immigration offices while our host had business, and were able to sit and observe well-dressed families, waiting to complete their tasks; with children playing and running in the cool, shaded courtyard, while under the watchful eye of their families.  There is a definite rush to the streets, but at the government offices, people seemed relaxed.  Nicaragua, like Mexico, (and like New Mexico), is a land of manana.
Time and the idea of appointments are relative. 
And the memory of war is fresh.  Managua is surrounded by still-active volcanos, it is a Capital city with no central point, but rather - is one big heart.  Nicaragua is second to Hati in poverty, but the citizens are family-oriented, and strive to survive.