What do you get when you fall in love...

Reality checks are good. Right?

I have a habit of going overboard. I convince myself how good everything is. That I’ve found paradise, fallen in love, won the jackpot.

What the heck. I have. This is it. The good life. The volunteer project is incredible. The set up allows me time to write too – and all from the comfort of a rocking chair on a shady terrace.

Side note: has anyone else ever tried typing in a rocking chair? It works perfectly. No bad backs, no cricked necks. Anyway...

The woooosh started on Friday. I was walking back from town. I was listening to music and Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach’s incomparable “Painted from Memory” was on. Like I said, the woooosh. Suddenly happiness took over. Real, joyous, ecstatic happiness.

That old feeling. There it was. I wrote of it a million times in Vietnam before Hanoi wore me down. I had feared it had gone forever.

It’s a combination of so many emotions:

I can’t believe this is me. I am doing this. This is my home now. How did I get so lucky? Do I deserve to be this lucky? Just what did I do so right to deserve this? Wow! Woooosh.

It all got mixed up with Costello’s lyrics and Bacharach’s strings and muted trumpet. I wanted to, literally, hold out my arms and let it wash over me. I wanted to shout.

While the woooosh eventually subsided the underlying emotion didn’t.

On Saturday night the Chavalos catered for a tour group (see below). They were on the last day of their trip and there was a real palpable feelgoodness.

I did my host thing. I mingled and talked up the Chavalos. Most of what I told, I had learned about an hour earlier.  I had finally found the time to sit down and have a long chat and get the full details of this wonderful organisation.

The kids it has “saved” have some incredible histories.  No names, no specifics but drug addiction, gang fights,  vendettas, police trouble, jail, alcoholic parents, murdered siblings, guns, knives etc. That’s what they have lived through.

Now clean – drugwise and hygiene. They’re learning teamwork, responsibility, mentoring and entrepreneurship through CafeChavalos. Of course, they’re learning to cook too.

So the meal was a triumph. The people loved the Chavalos. They took a bow. They received their applause. I talked to the very impressive tour group leaders who were just so enthused about this country that it made me even more sure I had made the right decision in coming here.

I went to bed that night and snored through a grin.

Then something happened Sunday. I awoke to a row downstairs. This isn’t Vietnam, rows are loud. The Chavalos were off to clean up after their previous night’s cooking. Not everyone turned up.

I’d been hanging out to take pictures of them for the websites, newsletters and literature that will hopefully help raise the tens of thousands of dollars we need just to keep this project going.

I eventually got their time. A couple of members short, who were awol, but we’d do. And then there’s another row. One guy is storming off. Another is going too. I’m all alone in the street with my camera. One picture taken (above).

They’re good kids. Good despite the worst of upbringings. This is not polite Vietnam. This is temperamental Latin America. I should expect change. I have to deal with it.

I simmered for a while. The annoyance was compounded by allowing myself to get dehydrated in this fierce heat. A headache ensued.

Today I’ve woken up with the pounding head still there.

The Chavalos will be a tough act. They’re all ready tamed I guess. But not by me. I have respect to earn. And with a new restaurant to open we all need to “get professional”.

We can do it. Life is not just writing happy clappy stuff on my rocking chair.

And bring it on. Whatever you can throw at me. Because all of this is still so good it easily offsets the bad.

Otherwise, it just wouldn't be any fun. 

Reality checks are good.

Comments

[Stacy]

I think you'll have many stories about the differences between Asian and Hispanic cultures in the months to come. I can't wait to read them. I'm still trying to get over all the great pictures, I love all the bright colors.

[ourman]

I think I'll also have to try and keep it to a minimum. Nicaragua is it's own place just as Vietnam is. I am going to bore people too.

Just added some more of the guys cooking. Hope you like those pics too and more Granada shots have been added to flickr.

Thanks for stopping by.

[minxlj]

I'm honoured to be contributing even my tiny little part to all of this - thank you. Your enthusiasm shines through the pages here and it's a great reality check for me. I know I can do something 'bigger' than what I'm doing, I just have to find my place like you have, and I look forward to that woosh :-)

[ourman]

That's woooosh. Glad to have you on board. Like I said - bring it on.

[Linda]

Hello Ourman,

I'm a soppy old so and so and wanted to say "Yay!" for falling in love and volunteering.

I'm also the ex regional reporter who has found some kind of port in PR, so to say I am bowled over by the direction you have taken is an understatement.

Good luck,
Linda
x

[ourman]

Thanks Linda. The more I do this the more I want to do this for ever. If I can find a way to make writing pay then volunteering and living in such wonderful countries will give me an endless supply of inspiration and stories to tell.

Life is good.