Happiness is spelled "choco banano"

There´s this house near mine that sells ice cream on their front porch, and they have this sign that says they sell "choco bananos". Finally today I went and asked for one and oh my goodness, that´s probably the happiest I´ve been in awhile. It´s just a banana on a stick that´s dipped in chocolate and then frozen, but when it´s 90 degrees outside I don´t think there´s much that could be more delightful. I ended up sitting on their porch talking to the woman who owns the place for awhile and I for sure plan on going back, as much for the conversation as for the delicious choco bananos and raspados (snow cones). We talked a little about politics and she´s a die hard conservative. My family, on the other hand, is so sandinista (and therefore liberal) that our house is actually painted in sandinista colors, so I think it´s best that I don´t tell her who I´m living with. I´d hate for her to do something like torch our house or take away my choco banano.

Also, Mrs. Choco Banano gave me a huge compliment by telling me I spoke and understood Spanish "bastante bien" (well enough) and could express myself well. In Argentina, people almost always gushed over how well we spoke even when we spoke like retarded babies. Here, though, there´s more reservation, so receiving a compliment on my language skills means a lot more.

Today I also started my Spanish lessons with a new professor. Her name is Carla, she´ll be 20 on August 4 and she gave birth to a son named Joshua Samuel 12 days ago. Essentially, we´re so close in age but our lives could not be more different. We had a really interesting discussion about childbirth here, and let´s just say US women would die. Some minor differences include: the hospital doesn´t provide food, the family brings it. Natural birth is the norm. The baby is usually dressed and handed to the mother immediately, and then doesn´t leave her side. The mother is in the hospital for maybe a full day and then goes home. Et cetera. We also talked about violence against women, about machismo, about families in the USA vs families in Nicaragua and about Carla´s 36 year old sister who has a daughter, who´s 20, who also has a child. Carla asked me why it´s the norm for kids in the states to leave the house when they hit 18. I responded with some crap about how we value independence and responsibility to the extreme, but if you think about who has more responsibility: a 19 year old at a private university, or a 19 year old with 1-2 children, a job and a potentially abusive or absent husband? There has to be some happy medium.

I´ve finally figured out that more or less the only place I can be alone is at an old fort on the edge of town, so I think I´ll go sit there and read for awhile.