Category: Photography

Caroline Bach5 Comments

The long road to Bluefields and that dirty, dirty dancing.

The urge to travel and see something new, different and fresh took my mind all the way to Nicaragua’s Caribbean coast. It was already Friday, I would get Monday off, and I had three options for my weekend trip:

1. Catching a Saturday morning flight from Managua to Corn Island and spend three full days on paradise beaches. Quickest, easiest and safest, 80USD.
2. Catching a 6h Saturday morning bus from Managua to Rama, 2h boat to Bluefields, arrive at 14pm and spend the rest of the day in Bluefields to see the town and hopefully some Palo de Mayo celebrations before catching a Sunday morning flight to Corn Island. Safe and cheap, 17USD.
3. Catching a 6h Friday evening nightly bus from Managua to Rama, spend 3h in Rama waiting for the sun to rise to catch the 2h boat to Bluefields, spend the entire day in Bluefields and then catch the Sunday morning flight to Corn Island. Most difficult, longest, most interesting, 17USD.

I asked a friend what he thought about my options,

“Well, I would really prefer you to take the flight or at least go by day with the bus, but I already know which option you will choose..”

(For those of you wondering how to get from Managua to Bluefields and/or Corn Island, the options are 1,5h by air with La Costeña (leaving 6.20am or 14pm, +50522632142) or by 8-12h Bus+Boat with Transportes Wendelyn Vargas (leaving 6am or 9pm, +50522532879) to Bluefields and then a 15minute flight with La Costeña – you can easily book your flights online or via the phone. Booking a seat in the bus is not possible and you will need to go to the Costa Atlantica Terminal in Managua directly to buy the tickets, what you can do is call to confirm that there are still free seats. For the hardcore savers with a lot of time to spend there is also a boat from Bluefields to Corn Island but I know little of it as it leaves only once a week and takes 6-24h.)

So yes, I actually went to the bus terminal on the same day to catch my 9pm bus. I just couldn’t miss out on the experience of going by bus by night, talking to sleepy people in Rama, and getting a full day in Bluefields.

The busride from Managua wasn’t hard at all. The full bus left a couple of minutes after 9pm and I was sitting next to Michael, a guy my age from Corn Island who had been working on a cruiser ship the past six months and was going back home for vacation, bringing bottles of Jack Daniels to celebrate with his friends. We shared some nice talks and watched each other’s bags the way good travelbuddies do. I was really impressed by the great standard of the highway and managed to get about 2h of sleep in between the loud salsa music and the stops we made. At 3am we arrived in Rama, not a second late.

In Rama it’s smart to get in line as soon as possible to get your name on the listfor the boats, there was no problem as it is low season now and there were not that much people but Michael told me it gets really bad when many buses arrive at the same time. I spent the next three hours in Rama walking around with my camera by the station and speaking to people while Jurassic Park III was playing on a TV on the wall. People were sleeping, eating and yawning. I took some photos of a boy that laughed really hard when he saw himself on the display of my camera and spoke to the girl sitting next to him, her name was Scarlyn and she was 16 years old.

“That’s such a beautiful and expressive boy, is he yours?”
“Yes it’s my son, Joel. He is two years old.”

Scarlyn and I had a talk, about stuff, about her studies, about life.

“So where’s the daddy?” I finally asked. “He’s at home with my mother, my 36 year old stepdad is the boy’s father.” she answered without showing any sign of feeling uncomfortable about the fact. “Oh okay, how long has he lived with you?” I asked, trying not to disrespect her by showing the pity she wasn’t asking for. “For the past 9 years” she calmly answered. I was impressed by her very mature and calm way of speaking reasonably with the boy when he started to whine and she added that she thought it was important for her to continue her studies, and that she didn’t mind me to share the photos and her story on my website.

Scarlyn is one of many young mothers in Nicaragua, teen pregnancies being the most common reason for school dropouts in the country. An extremely sad reality of little girls suddenly being thrown and forced into being adult, responsible women..

At 5.30am it started to lighten up and we moved from the benches in the station to wait by the boats. “We can leave as soon as the sun comes up.” Michael told me and people started to place their bags in lines on the ground as men in camouflaged suits searched their luggage for drugs with a happy golden retriever.

The boatride was cold. Bring something warm if you are going by speedboat! The wind was hard and people were covering their faces, but the air was crisp and the views were beautiful. I was a bit exhausted and finally fell asleep for the hour I had left in movement.

We arrived in Bluefields two hours later, at 8am, and I had no idea where to go apart from the fact that I wanted to wash my face, wander around and find a place to stay, so I said goodbye to Michael and started walking. I went to the central market which as you know is golden for both photos and people, I met so many interesting people during the day (Majesty, Jorge) that I will share the stories separately from this post not to make it too long.

Anyway, my first mission was finding a place to sleep and leave my bag, I stepped into some cheap hotels that didn’t really call for my attention and then an old woman pointed to a house. “Over there, by the mattresses, the lady in there is renting rooms.” I stepped into the porch of the house and the lady was a bit surprised that I had found it but I got a nice room with en suite bathroom for 10USD, much less than those ugly hotels. The daughter in the house was 28 years old and told me that she was a hairdresser, so I let her cut my hair. My walk around Bluefields was beautiful and I was trying to listen in as much as possible on the Creole English I heard on the street. A guy in Rasta’s approached me and asked: “Hey gyal, I be wonderin is you people be with you der in de Sweden.” I think he wondered whether I have my family in Sweden or here, but I’m still not sure. At noon I took a two hour powernap before getting out again, in the evening I had a great fish fillet at the Pelican’s Bay Restaurant on the seashore and when I came home I sat for a while with the old landlady, watching Nicaraguan talk shows and laughing.

As agreed, the daughter in the house, Angelica, took me out for me to see the Palo de Mayo celebrations. The festival is celebrated throughout the month in different neigbourhoods of Bluefields and ends with a big festival in the last weekend of May. We asked around to find out where the Palo de Mayo was and took a taxi to the 19 de Julio suburb of Bluefields to join the party. The dancing started with the Tululu chain of people dancing underneath a tunnel of arms, going round and round and round. And then there was some proper Palo de Mayo dirty dancing. We danced as well, although we didn’t go full-crazy as the other’s did, but it was great fun anyway, and the guys were not only great dancers but also completely fine with keeping their distance which was a bit against the stereotype I originally had about the dance and context. A fantastic evening full of positive energy.

We decided to go home when the party began crossing the line to slightly uncomfortable as people were getting too drunk. The moment we jumped into our cab and started driving home the sky opened up and I got a beautiful night to the sound of rain against the metal roof of my room.

On Sunday, I woke up at 5.30am and hugged Angelica and her mother goodbye. I went to the airport and was there way too early, so I took a walk around the airport area instead. My camera took me to an area with houses built just by the water. There, I met an 84 year old man that was very happy about having his picture taken, and the two four-year-olds Merelyn and Marlo that I had a talk with – then I had to hurry back to the airport to catch my flight and wave goodbye to Bluefields, a true gem of diversity and kindness.

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Tulululu!

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I’m in Bluefields airport, waiting for my 15 minute flight to Corn Island. The airplane is too heavy so people have to leave their checked in luggage and pick it up with the next flight that comes in the afternoon. Another reason to travel as light as possible and try to bring no more than hand luggage. Unfortunately, they found my lethal killing machine, so I had to check it in. But as the ticket I got is bigger than the mini-nailclippers they took away from me, they promised to try to get them on the flight anyway. I doubt they will be affecting the weight of the flight.

By the way, isn’t my second hand leather handbag the most beautiful camera bag you have ever seen? I love the fact that my camera fits perfectly in it, and that it doesn’t scream: “I carry very expensive stuff – please steal me!!”

Anyway, so we went to a suburb and danced the traditional Palo de Mayo yesterday, the landlady’s daughter and I. I can still hear the “Tulululu!” shouting and music in my head.

There will be a lot of photos and videos from the night, here’s a small preview:

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Momotombo @ Bar Uruk Kalli

“You really needed this, right?”

The huge smile on my face when dancing to along to the electronic madness of the Nicaraguan band Momotombo yesterday must have been very revealing, a live concert was exactly what my whole body had been longing for!

Momotombo plays an energetic electronic fusion of something that sounds like post-rock, jazz, funk and sampled beats from random songs. The atmosphere was really, really good and people were completely letting go and dancing their heads off. The concert was set up in the bar that has become my favourite here in the city, Uruk Kalli, a place that features artistic vibes, interesting details, and a very pleasant evening breeze.

Also, obvious highlight of the night, I got to play with my new camera.


Oh, and apparently I forgot to set the video settings, so you’re getting this in low-res. Sorry about that! :)

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Teach me how to Hula Hoop!

Chibuto, Gaza province, Mozambique
August 2012

The bell at Bairro 3 da Cidade School in Chibuto rings for a break and the children run out of their classrooms to grab their favourite colour; the pink, yellow, green and blue hula hoops spread out all over the schoolyard, and the air fills with a characteristic soft swooshing buzz, created by grains of sand inside of the plastic rings.

The hulahooping skills of the children are impressive. The bright, neon-coloured rings are so popular that the district invites students to showcase their talents at official events. In addition to its value as a simple and fun form of exercise, the hula-hooping and cheering attracts younger children to the schoolyard.

Tarcizia Narcizo Nguzi is 8 years old, and busy hula-hooping. “I have already done it ten times today!” she shouts, showing off how she can spin the plastic ring around her waist, her arm, her neck and her leg. “I will be a doctor when I grow up, and I will tell my patients to play with hula-hoops. My teacher says it is good for the body!”

The school’s physical education teacher, Jose Carlos Manhica, incorporates hula-hoops daily into his work. “We have received more than 50 of them as part of our sports kit from the UNICEF Child-Friendly Schools initiative. They provide an easy and fun mean of activity for the children, and there are many kinds of exercises one can do with them. For our circumstances, it is perfect.”

Director of Pedagogy Joana Francisco Cuna says she is pleased with the physical education and sport classes. “Children love to play, and it keeps them healthy. Our school is always invited to present a show whenever there are events in the district. We are very proud of the children, and of our school,” she says.

Both Mrs. Cuna and Mr. Manhica have noted that the school has started to attract younger children since the sports initiative started. “Look at this boy, for example,” Mr. Manhica says, pointing to 7 year-old Eugenio Romeo Machava: “he started coming here two years before beginning school!” Eugenio smiles shyly. “It’s true. I had friends here, and I wanted to play with the hula-hoops. There was no problem, I could be here and the students taught me how to use the rings. I was really looking forward to starting school.”

This is exactly what Mr. Manhica wants to highlight, he has been a teacher at Bairro 3 da Cidade for 10 years, and has witnessed a change. “We definitely have more children in the schoolyard now than before. The younger children come to play, and they even participate in the physical education classes from a distance. What is most important though is that they are getting used to school and to being here. The colours of the hula-hoops attract them, and they get to know the older children. All of this greatly facilitates their adjustment during the first months of school.”

“And I can do it like this as well!” Tarcizia shouts to us from a distance, hula-hooping with her knees.


Published in the UNICEF Publication: Child-Friendly Schools – Stories from Mozambique & on the UNICEF Mozambique website
Photos & Text © UNICEF Mozambique/2012/Caroline Bach

The problem is not always that there are no school buildings available, often, a challenge is to get children to actually come to school, to convince their parents that their children should be studying instead of working, to make the children realize the importance of being in school, and to keep them there.

Who would have thought that a simple thing such as some colourful hulahoops would attract so many young minds? There are a lot of surprises to learn from the field, and the most trivial details often prove to be very important. Can a box containing a couple of hulahoops, two footballs and some other sport gear increase the school attendance in a small Mozambican village? Yes, yes it can.

So, how do you find out what works and what doesn’t? Mainly by asking. Going to the field and asking people what the most important things in their lives are, asking about priorities, preferences, about obstacles and how these could be removed, about what they would like to change in their realities. And then, most importantly, asking how they imagine this change, and how they think they could be the central and leading part of it.

What about children? What are their priorities when outside of responsibilities, how do they distract themselves? What do they want?
Kids want entertainment, play, something exciting, a challenge, a feeling of belonging, friendship. Things that will help them develop their social skills and personalities, things that will give them the feeling of accomplishment and pride.

Sniffing glue, selling drugs, getting married or dropping out of school just to start selling chewing gum in the street of a nearby city isn’t as exciting any more once your teacher has explained the importance of education and all the dangers of those bad practices, and introduced you to the possibility of becoming the school champion in long jump instead, or a great football player, despite being a girl. That’s why we call it Sports for Development.

Caroline BachLeave a comment

EOS Remote

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My new camera is fantastic, I adore the wifi function! There is an app for the phone where I can see what the camera sees, choose focus, ISO, and release the shutter so now you’ll finally be able to join my world in high resolution and from an outside perspective.

Here’s me, working on a Sunday.

I have a lot of feedback and thoughts to share related to today’s blog post. But that will have to wait until tomorrow. Thank you all for being such beautiful friends, for commenting, for texting me, and for sharing!

Caroline Bach1 Comment

L’amour est un oiseau rebelle

Yesterday the European Union, The Central American Integration Programme and the Italian, Spanish, Finnish and German Embassies here in Nicaragua organized a cultural evening of opera and a pompous buffet (with strawberries dipped in chocolate and drinks worthy the tastebuds of connoisseurs) for the diplomatic representation here in the country, the international development cooperation sector and Nicaraguan guests.

I joined some friends and was very happy to visit the Rubén Darío National Theatre and finally get to see Georges Bizet’s Carmen from 1875. And there she was, in her full Gypsy splendour, la Carmencita, sung by a Cuban guest and slightly overshined by the voice of her lover, the elegant toreador Escamillo. I knew many of the arias by heart (and I’m sure that you’ve heard them too) which brought some extra tingling to this fantastic story and opera. It was interesting how the sets had been painted on fabric hanging in the background instead of wooden and plastic sets – not as impressive but fully functional and probably a way to save money – the only annoyance during the spectacle were some minor mistakes in the illumination and the people in charge of the translation projection who managed to lose track completely a couple of times which was extremely distracting. Costumes were nice, voices were generally good, there was a touch of comedy, and the 4 act play of three hours was overall really, really entertaining.

After the dramatic ending and standing ovations we were invited to the beautiful ballroom with high ceilings, huge chandeliers and a striking amount of people. There was a hunt for plates and then we saw the buffet.. and officially agreed to set our detox week on hold for the night. Obviously.