Alyssa Brunner 24 January 2014 Whos Ignorant?

: Shattered Preconceptions about Life in a Developing Country Murky brown water sloshed over the edge of the concrete platform, pooling onto the dirt floor of the little church. Thirteen-year-old Rosa threw another bucket of cool water at my feet and gestured for me to sweep the water around. She covered her mouth shyly as she giggled at my apparent confusion and pathetic attempts to do as she had mimed. Her bare feet grimy from walking on the wet ground, Rosa stooped down to rinse the mud off before joining me on the raised ledge. She took the broom from my hand and, using it as a mop, deftly demonstrated the proper way to clean the floor. Since we had switched roles, Rosa motioned for me to throw more water down. I used a small, cracked bowl to draw some water out of the five-gallon bucket and tossed the water in front of Rosa, who lightly shrieked when the cold water flooded over her feet. She paused a moment to smooth back a few wisps of black hair that had escaped from her ponytail, then went back to work. Rosa attempted to clean the lower sections of the walls with the broom, but stopped when I pointed out the new opaque, minty-green tint of the water, as the aquamarine paint washed off along with the dirt. As we continued the process of adding water and sweeping it off, the waters color gradually became more transparent and less dingy as the concrete floor slowly grew cleaner. Because of the powdery dirt roads and the arid conditions of Nicaraguas dry season, everything quickly becomes covered with a coating of dust. While Rosa and I were finishing up, after working for almost two hours, I asked her how often her family cleans the church. Every week? Her dark eyes glanced up in surprise. No, no, she answered. Daily.

I wasnt sure what to expect when I went to Nicaragua, but the high level of attention to personal hygiene and cleanliness wasnt it. Most of us in the U.S. dont even mop our houses on a weekly basis, much less walk down the street to spend a few hours washing down the local church. Before reaching Nicaragua, I had thought I was relatively open-minded, free of stereotypical ideas about countries labeled less developed than my own. But while I was there, I realized how limited (and largely incorrect) my knowledge on that subject was. In general, citizens of the U.S. are woefully uninformed about what life in developing countries is truly like. The majority of our exposure to these countries comes from national news coverage showing the aftermath of natural disasters, or from commercials featuring dirty, doeeyed children with protruding bellies and sad faces that plead for better lives via donations of our pocket change. Those images, and even the term developing country itself, suggest a certain sense of inferiority. The Oxford Dictionary defines developing country as a poor agricultural country that is seeking to become more advanced economically and socially. Implying that these countries are uncivilized or unsophisticated, as compared to a developed countrys standards, contributes to the idea that life in developing countries is far worse than in our own. The nonprofit organization Educational Pathways International uses layman terms to explain the United Nations criteria for classifying developing countries, saying that life expectancy and knowledgemeasured both by literacy rates and enrollment in education systemsare two big factors in determining the state of development. But dividing the world into two categories creates a wide gulf between developed and developing nations, only furthering the disconnection that one group feels from the other. Educator and lecturer Hans Rosling, in a CNN opinion article, recognizes that The concept of a developing world ranging from Turkey and Brazil all the way to Somalia and Afghanistan still forms the mindset used by

most people to sort information about the world. The world keeps changing, while mindsets remain surprisingly intact. As a result of this separation, the so-called developed world has a very limited knowledge and understanding of the developing nations, often lumping together all of the countries with comparatively lower standards of living and generalizing about their lack of education, sanitation, and sophistication. It was only after my short yet life-changing time spent immersed in Nicaraguan culture and lifestyles that I both recognized my preconceptions and altered my perspective on developing countries. Nicaraguans are not uncivilized or primitive, nor do they need us gringos to swoop in and improve their lives. Although Nicaragua is one of the poorest countries in the Americas, poverty does not necessarily correlate to uncleanliness, a lack of education and basic knowledge of healthy practices, or a need for our assistance. Because of my own ignorance and assumptions about developing countries, I was surprised by the meticulous attention Nicaraguans paid to cleanliness. I wasnt just blown away by the time and care Rosas family gave to cleaning the church on a daily basis, but also by the overall attitudes regarding clean homes and selves. I had expected Nicaraguans to be less concerned about bathing and hygiene, but during my two-and-a-half weeks in their country, I felt dirtier in comparison on more than one occasion. While working on biogas stoves at one rural Nicaraguan home, some of my classmates and I joined in a few games of soccer with the children there. We stopped once to take a break and return to work, but promised to come back for at least one more match before we left for the day. About an hour later, I found ten-year-old Jennifer and announced that we were ready to play. As she excitedly grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the field, I belatedly noticed that Jennifer was now wearing a new, fresh skirt and shirt, complete with a matching headband in her curly brown hair. All six of the children had

changed clothes, in fact, and I was so taken aback that I had trouble recognizing them. The oldest girl, Daniella, looked so different that I at first assumed she was another cousin or neighbor kid that I hadnt met yet. I looked down at myself, my pale legs streaked with dirt from our work project and splattered with mud from the earlier soccer game. In contrast, the kids hair, skin, and clothes were all clean and tidy. As we began playing, all I could think about was how baffled I was. Why, WHY, would they change into clean clothes just before going back to play soccer on the dusty ground? Logically, I couldnt make sense of it. My mother would have been upset if I had done that as a child, because it would only add another set of clothes to the pile waiting to be washed. But while my family may have focused on the additional work or expense, this Nicaraguan family placed more importance on presenting themselves well and maintaining a clean appearance. Whether changing clothes midday is the norm, or simply happened that day because we were guests present at their home, Im not sure. But their desire to look their best made an impression on me. I consider myself a relatively clean person, but being around Nicaraguans made me feel very lax in my bathing habits. One night in rural La Paz, my host father Jorge reacted with astonishment when I chose not to take a bath. To me, it was no big deal; the sun had gone down and the temperature had dropped, so I opted against bathing outside with a bucket of cold water. But Jorges confusion was evident in his raised eyebrows and continued offers to get the water ready for me. I tried to explain that I was already feeling cold, but he just laughed and shook his head disbelievingly. Routine bathing was an expectation that he had, so my refusal to follow this norm, even for a day, was bewildering to him. Although daily showers are customary in the U.S., skipping a day every now and then is acceptable, as long as body odor doesnt become an issue.

Encountering unclean and unpleasant-smelling people is somewhat common in the U.S.public transportation and places such as big-box grocery stores are especially popular areas to run into thisbut this did not seem to be the case in Nicaragua. Not once did I walk past a Nicaraguan that smelled of anything other than soap or light cologne, except for one young guy, who had just finished shoveling out a truckload of manure. This cleanliness was a pleasant surprise and a nice change from the United States. My exposure to poverty had previously been limited to seeing the homeless population in some of the larger cities. For this reason, I equated poverty with homelessness, with unwashed, unkempt beggars in ragged clothes sleeping under overpasses and crowding the sidewalks. This unconscious correlation in my head connected poverty with unsanitary practices, linking poor people with a lack of access to bathing and clean clothes and living spaces. But this was not what I experienced in Nicaragua. Starting at about 6 in the morning in Nicaragua, the sound of bristles scraping across tile or dirt floors could be heard on every street as women began sweeping out their homes and their yards. Even the surrounding ground and streets in front of their houses are swept clean of debris. Although there are some street kids and people without a place to live, the majority of Nicaraguans have a home equipped with a bucket-bath or shower, as well as a washboard and soap, which they use consistently. Even with water rations throughout the country during the six-month-long dry season, Nicaraguans devote a certain amount of their provided water to the daily bathing and cleaning of clothes and important properties, such as the church. Marta, Rosas 30-year-old aunt, and her husband founded that Evangelical Lutheran church in La Primavera, a barrio in Managua, and it quickly became a central part of their familys life. Marta held one hand over her heart as she explained that she and her husband had

been devastated when unable to have children for the first three years of their marriage. But now, as a result of devoted prayer and Gods goodwill, Marta considers herself abundantly blessed with five children, along with two nieces and one nephew that also live in their home. Shocked to hear that I only have one older brother and no other siblings, Marta cradled her youngest, three-month-old Luz Maria, and gratefully praised God for her large family. Martas love for her family translates not only into the devotion and daily attention given to the church, but also into a sincere concern for her childrens health and diets. While we chatted for a few minutes after lunch, Marta confided that she doesnt permit her children to eat bags of chips, cookies, candies, and other similar processed foods. Marta wagged her finger for emphasis as she explained that these foods are bad for the health of her kids teeth, minds, and whole bodies. I still wonder about how Marta knew this: simply from intuition, assuming that these foods cant be healthy, since theyre not fresh? Or experienceperhaps in the past, someone she knew ate a lot of these packaged foods and got cavities or a stomachache? Regardless of her source, Martas remarks echoed the same information shared by doctors, dentists, and parents in the U.S. In addition to Martas condemnation of processed snacks, all the other families that I spent time with in Nicaragua showed their knowledge about healthy eating through their actions, as well as their comments. Maria, my 24-year-old host aunt in Managua, told me about specific choices that she makes for her young sons health. Talking over the din of three-year-old Adrians babbling and rambunctious playing, Maria animatedly explained that her family drinks fresh fruit juice that they make themselves, often using an electric blender, because it is better for Adrians health. Much better than the bottled juice sold in stores, she insisted. With her index finger, Maria traced an imaginary tear down her cheek as she told me that when he was young,

Adrian got very sick, which worried the whole family. Maria rolled her eyes good-naturedly and shook her head in exasperation as Adrian hopped down off his chair and began to dig more action figures out of the big plastic tote. As she watched him paw through the tote, flinging the unwanted toys onto the living room floor, Maria added that since Adrian recovered, theyve made a habit of having fresh juice at nearly every meal as a way to further boost his health. As an added bonus, she commented on the better taste of the fresh juice, which I can attest to. The fruit juice that I drank in Nicaragua is far superior to any bottled juice Ive ever had in the States, both in flavor and in its healthful lack of preservatives and various chemical enhancements. Ana, my reserved but friendly host mother in La Paz de Carazo, also practiced healthy eating in the meals that she cooked. The fresh-squeezed fruit juice was a staple in this rural Nicaraguan departamento as well, along with fresh fruits and vegetables grown either on her and Jorges own land or bought in little local pulperias. Rather than being the main component of each meal, meat was seen as optional; when it was included in the dish, it was generally in small amounts. One day after another delicious meal, Ana shared some recipes with me and showed me the ingredients that she had used for that days lunch, in the hopes that I might be able to recreate it at home in the States. We chatted about food for a few minutes, and I asked Ana if she and Jorge usually ate a lot of meat. Ana shook her head and paused for a moment. She softly explained that meat isnt good for the stomach, and that eating too much is unhealthy. Ana gestured to the plate of leftover salad, adding that fruits and vegetables are much better for the body. I jokingly replied that most Americans havent figured that out yet, but there was a definite piece of truth in that jest. I was surprised by this widespread knowledge and practice of healthy eating that I encountered in all of the Nicaraguan families I spent time with. Although they do fry a large

portion of their food in oil, which is considered very unhealthy in the U.S., they do so out of necessity. Maria explained to me that making food in an oven is a luxury that many cant afford, as it would use up their supply of gas after only a few meals. Their options are limited to boiling or frying foods; although boiling is healthier, it often produces bland and texture-less food, so it is not the most common choice. Even so, I couldnt help but think that many Nicaraguans have better eating habits than I do. A common misconception is that third-world countries are either malnourished or obese because of their unbalanced, incomplete diets. We tend to think of the poor as ignorant victims of food deserts, either unaware of healthy practices or unable to afford nutritious food. But in countries of temperate or tropical climates, such as Nicaragua, fresh fruit grows alongside the roadsides and on peoples own land. Even in the capital city of Managua, Marias family had orange trees growing in their backyard. These families recognize the health benefits of these fresh foods, and they make the most of its easy availability. Not only were these Nicaraguan families aware of basic healthy food practices, but the majority were also literate. In my host family in Managua, formal education was the norm, rather than the exception. The grandmother works as a secretary, and 22-year-old Karina graduated university and currently works as a pharmacist. Karinas 14-year-old brother Pablo attends a private school where he studies communication and English, with dreams of becoming an anchor for Primera Hora, a morning news and talk show that he watches religiously. Their aunt Maria had to drop out of her finance classes at a university when she became pregnant with Adrian, but she hopes to someday return to a different field of study that would allow her to travel and meet new people, to better suit her outgoing personality. She must have a head for numbers though, as I witnessed her sitting at the kitchen table one night, going over papers containing the family expenses and budget. When we left Managua for the rural town of La Paz de Carazo, the trend of

literacy continued. Ana had previously worked in Costa Rica as some type of nursing aide for the elderly, and Jorge had graduated from a technical college-equivalent school with a degree in agriculture. He brought out step-by-step manuals for building silos and various metal-working projects, as well as handouts explaining environmental practices such as avoiding erosion and eradicating pests organically. Whether gained through formal education or informal means, these Nicaraguans ability to read and write gave me pause. Werent the majority of people in developing countries supposed to be struggling with literacy? I met numerous educated and learned Nicaraguans, and while this doesnt mean that the country is 100 percent literate, it does debunk the idea that illiteracy is the norm. The World Banks data noted that as of 2011, 84 percent of the worlds population, aged 15 and older, has the ability to read and write. The most recent data on Nicaraguas literacy in particular dates back to 2005, when the rate was at 78 percent. It is true that the very poor in many nations, including Nicaragua, do still lack the education that would promote even higher literacy rates. But the preconception that developing countries are largely illiterate is steadily growing more inaccurate as years go by. When I was preparing to leave the U.S., I explained to my family and friends that I was heading to Nicaragua for a class that involved some service work with local organizations. But it wasnt until my classmates and I began getting our hands dirty alongside Nicaraguan families, working together to dig pits for biogas stoves and grey water systems, that I realized we werent there to help. As little blisters bubbled up on my soft, smooth hands unused to such consistent manual labor, I recognized that in all honesty, we were almost more of a hindrancewe took double the time to do the same amount of work as the locals, who worked more quickly and

efficiently. We were there not to benefit others, but to learn from them and create relationships spanning our different countries and ways of life. My time in Nicaragua brought about a change in perspective. I began to consider the world in a new light, as well as my egocentric view of it. In the United States, we pay only little attention to the progression of the rest of the world. We assume that the homogenous group of developing countries is still struggling along far beneath our developed standards of living, when in reality, the gap between our nations is no longer so large. The misconceptions about developing countries abound; although the developed world generally masses together all developing countries and considers them ignorant and remote, the fact is that we overlook our own ignorance. I was forced to confront my own misconceptions and incorrect assumptions about the uncleanliness, illiteracy, and unhealthy practices that I expectedand failedto find in the developing country of Nicaragua. Now, I better understand the complexities of declaring nations developed or developing, and recognize that there is a much wider spectrum of living standards than those two classifications alone can denote. Though I wasnt directly immersed in extreme poverty in Nicaragua, and my experience may have been much different if I had, I marveled at the similarities between our countries. There were definitely some marked differences in cultures, values, possessions, and conduct, but I still felt vaguely at home in Nicaragua. I came to admire certain aspects of their lifestyles and love the friendly and hardworking people that made up the tight-knit, welcoming communities. The majority of Nicaraguans seem much happier than the countrys economic state alone would lead us to expect; instead of the depression that I expected to witness in poverty-stricken homes, I saw genuine laughter and lively music, warm embraces and endless games. From what I experienced, even though Nicaragua is labeled one of the poorest countries in the Americas, they

are immeasurably rich in strong familial and community ties, meaningful relationships, and a sincere contentment in the lives they live.

Works Cited Educational Pathways International. What is a Developing Country? 2010. Web. Retrieved 29 January 2014. The World Bank. Literacy Rate, Adult Total (% of People Ages 15 and Above). Databank. 2014. Web. Retrieved 28 January 2014. Oxford Dictionary. Developing Country. Oxford University Press. 2014. Web. Retrieved 28 January 2014. Rosling, Hans. Changing World: Why Developing Vs. Developed is Now Meaningless. CNN Opinion. 10 December 2013. Web. Retrieved 27 January 2014.