Lifestyle of Compas: Sontule, Miraflor Nicaragua
“Run for your life. I’ll grab the baby. They’re going to kill us all!” . . . Lucia, sixty year old mother of six children, begins the story of her “worst day of my life.” That day in 1984, the Contras came to the peaceful, agrarian community of Sontule with a list of names of people they were going to “conduct a military court and execute.” Lucia’s husband, Rogelio as president of the coffee farmer’s cooperative, was on the top of the death list. As the Contra soldiers stomped up to her locked gate and started to break it down, Lucia shepherded her oldest two boys, grabbed the baby girl and made an escape through the forested mountains behind their home. From there they picked up the summit trail and started to follow it down to the Sandinista protected city of Esteli. They were captured on the trail.
Lucia with red blouse in the middle, Rogelio in blue shirt with grandchildren
Lucia explains, “We were seized on our way to Esteli. They asked me for my husband’s name and wanted to know where he was. They had a list of names they were checking against. Everyone associated with the coffee cooperative was on the list. I gave them Rogelio’s middle name and mother’s surname, and told them he was working far away in corn fields. They didn’t believe me. The Contras started a great fire and were burning everything at the coffee cooperative. The wooden buildings and warehouses, harvested coffee, processing equipment were all put to the torch. There was a dark, brown smoke throughout the valley. They boasted that ‘all the stupid, foolish men’ working at the cooperative had been killed. They summed us to retrieve the bodies, but we didn’t trust them. We thought it was a trap to capture the relatives as hostages, so the coffee coop leaders and workers would turn themselves in. No one went to retrieve bodies. I thought Rogelio was dead.”
Coffee beans on the tree, as they turn red they're ready for harvesting
Shade grown coffee trees
She continued, “It was a sad, horrible time. The Contras arrived and destroyed everything that we could use and stole the rest. They damaged the corn grinder, cooking stove, sinks, destroyed beds, chairs, and tables. They stole all our food, clothes, sheets, pillows, all our belongings including shoes. They left us nothing. They then put up a sign on our home they had looted and destroyed saying: ‘This home is liberated on this day by the Counter Revolution.’ The soldiers set fire to many homes they believed belonged to coop farmers. They killed an unarmed older man at the coffee cooperative who stood up to them and told them to ‘leave us alone, we’re not combatants. Nor do we have arms or want to fight.’ They shot him before he finished speaking.”
Lucia's kitchen with wood burning stove, no running water, gas, or electricity
Another view of the kitchen, note the corn grinder at the lower left,
Contras destroyed this vital appliance
The shooting of the defenseless campesino sent the other coffee cooperative farmers scattering. Rogelio escaped into the overgrown coffee fields. He and several other neighbors hid in the fields until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness they hiked to the refuge area, arriving late in the evening. Lucia was comforting and consoling her children when she saw a tired, sweat stained, leaves encrusted, smoky smelling Rogelio stagger into the area. Her silent prayers had been answered. She gave “thanks to God” and was happy that her family was together and safe. Word finally reached Esteli and the Sandinista army came to the rescue. The Contras had already started to retreat, going back to bases in the jungles of Eastern Honduras.
Shaded coffee trees in the valley under the tall forest,
where Rogelio and neighbors hid from Contras
With a sad, hurt expression Lucia concluded, “The whole community was scared and desperate. We had nothing left. Our food was stolen. They destroyed our crops, so we had nothing to harvest for the future. They even stole our pots, pans, and dishes. We were already poor and barely surviving, but at least we didn’t starve because the Sandinista revolutionary government brought us food. Now that our own food was gone and ability to feed ourselves damaged, we organized. We decided if the Contras return, we need to defend ourselves. It was a horrible time of war and continued for six years until 1990.”
Corn grown for local consumption; Contras, "destroyed our crops . . . "
The Contras returned two more times, in 1986 and 1987. Lucia revealed that, “We were prepared for them and ready to fight. The last time they came, Rogelio and a group of armed campesinos confronted them on the outskirts of Sontule. The two groups exchanged gunfire and Rogelio was shot in his right arm. The bullet went through his arm and lodged in a metal ammunition belt he was wearing around his waist. That belt saved his life.” Rogelio continued the story, “I was bleeding and walked sixteen kilometers to a Red Cross medical station. The doctor stopped the bleeding and rushed me to the hospital in Esteli for further treatment. My right arm has been stiff ever since that injury. It was worth my minor sacrifice. Our actions stopped the advance of the Contras, until the Revolutionary army arrived and routed them. That was the last time the Contras came here.”
Lucia & Rogelio's rustic farm home with chickens and pigs in the front yard.
"We will defend our land and way of life . . . ."
Rogelio, seventy years old, farmer all his life, explained, “The Contras were never supported by us. Had they never come here to destroy our homes and rob us, we would never have mobilized. We’re peaceful people from the land. We’re farmers who enjoy working the land, planting, harvesting, following the seasons and rains to determine when we plant. We hate violence and war. But, we will defend our land and way of life, when we’re threatened. Thank God and the revolution for what we have today.”
Rogelio doing what he does best, caring for his young coffee plants
Organic vegetable garden providing food for the family
Sontule a humble farm community
Sontule is a remote, isolated, small community of coffee farmers and their extended families, around 600 people. Most are Catholic, but Evangelical Christianity has established a church and is growing. The people subsist on the products they grow and raise on their small farms. They sell their coffee to the export market. The community is located in the middle of “paradise in the clouds” Miraflor Natural Reserve. The Reserve is unique in combining rural farming within a protected nature reserve of diverse flora and fauna. The landscape is lush green forests of pine and oak, ridges of mountains in the distance, with elevated summits in the clouds. I hiked throughout the Reserve and visited shaded organic coffee farms, cascading waterfalls, and saw blooming orchids, vibrant colored butterflies, and assorted birds. The people of the campos are friendly, respectful, simple farming families, still practicing humble customs and traditions.
Miraflor Natural Reserve
In the middle of the Reserve live rural farmers subsisting on organic farm products
Hand size spider looking for food
Three foot iguana looking for a spider to eat
Butterfly feasting on flower nectar
Three inch grasshopper: Is everything bigger in the wild?
Within the mountainous tropical forests there are many caves that have been used since prehistoric times. One cave is rumored to have been the cave of “El Duende”, the legendary small man-thing that sometimes harms or charms. Clean, clear rivers flow through the reserve and create spectacular waterfalls during the rainy season. The elusive resplendent quetzal bird and iridescent blue morpho butterfly live in the Reserve. I glimpsed the blue morpho more than once.
Looking out from the cave of "El Duende"
Butterflies are abundant and everywhere
Miraflor Natural Reserve is a world-class butterfly viewing haven
The people live a simple life governed by sun light. They get up in the morning with the sunrise, go to bed soon after the sunsets. It’s a life revolving around preparing the next meal, feeding and maintaining farm animals, taking care of plants and crops, and conversing with family and community members. I stayed with Lucia and Rogelio and their extended family. They have six grown children. Three daughters and three sons who either live or work in Esteli. In Lucia and Rogelio’s home there are extended family members coming and going. Some stay the night. They all get feed simple meals from the food grown and harvested on the farm, a lot of beans and rice, cheese, eggs, potatoes, chicken, and hearty vegetable soups, and the staple corn tortillas. Everything is handmade, from planting and harvesting corn to grinding the corn into dough for tortillas. Their home is rustic. There is no electricity, indoor plumbing, or running water. Each day someone from the household goes to a community well, pumps water into containers, and carries the water back to the house.
Chickens need to be feed daily
Everyday cows need to be milked and cared for
Simple, delicious meal of eggs, beans, rice, corn quesadilla and tortilla
Lucia was constantly in the kitchen, keeping wood burning in the cooking fire, preparing meals, and making cheese or corn tortillas. Rogelio was feeding animals, planting or maintaining crops, or chopping wood. At night before bed, we discussed religion and Christianity, war and its aftermath on the people who experience it, United States and Nicaraguan relations, benefits and value of organic farming, and spirits and family relationships. They accepted me as part of their extended family, a “relative” because I’m human, a “guest” due to my circumstances of being a traveler. We developed a human bond of fraternity, caring for another living soul, and connecting with kinship to the great family of humanity. We established mutual trust, felt safe to share and attempt to understand each other’s perspective, and learned from one another.
Lucia cooking corn kernels to be made into tortillas
Corn grinder: one of the most important kitchen appliances
Rogelio feeding pigs, chickens, and dogs
Getting to Sontule involved a three hour, bumpy ride on a chicken bus. The bus was overloaded with people and cargo. Nicaraguan people, like most of the people in Central America, are very tolerant of being in close proximity to each other. While on the bus, we were pressed tightly together with parts of our body touching someone next to us. No one seemed bothered by strong human odors, stale smells of cheese going to market, and aromas of vegetables and ripening fruit. The humid induced sweat pouring off one another was just another inconvenience in riding the inexpensive public buses. While I adapted to loss of space and strong odors, I experienced lifestyle shock and enlightenment with the culture of living on a rural farm.
Chicken bus struggling up the bumpy road to Sontule
Overloaded bus on the way to Miraflor; no more standing room
I arrived at Lucia and Rogelio’s home after dark. The only light illuminating the kitchen and dining area was fire from the cooking stove and one candle on the dining table. After dinner and conversation, with a flashlight Lucia walked me to my seven by seven foot room - cement floor, cinder block walls, slanted tin corrugated roof. It was raining hard and you could hear the rain splashing on the roof. In the middle of the room was some pink mosquito netting sadly draped over a small cot, a meager wooden dresser to the left, and a short bench to the right. We went outside in the rain where she led me on a serpentine muddy trail to the outhouse. The little dark wooden room had a plastic toilet sitting on a raised cement foundation over a hole in the ground. When she opened the door, awful smells came out of the pitch-black chamber. I didn’t look forward to spending time in there.
First met family in this candle lighted dining area
My sleeping quarters. Thanks for the mosquito netting!
Path to the outhouse, around the banana trees
The outdoor toilet facility, don't forget toilet paper
Later that night with a dim headlight on, I’m on the bed under mosquito netting smelling the sour sweat on the sheets from whoever slept there last, and hearing the howling wind and rain hitting the roof. I’m overwhelmed with the smells of decaying vegetation, mud and gunk on my boots, cow and horse manure, chicken droppings, and horrified at the sight of the number of mosquitoes and other predatory insects attacking the pink netting. I’m in culture shock and unsure how long I can tolerate this “backward” way of life. I start thinking of leaving in the morning. I have to view this as primitive camping, at least I’m indoors out of the rain. I’m tired, feel dirty and grimy and want a shower. Since that’s not possible, I go to sleep instead.
I wake up at 3:00 AM sweaty and feeling claustrophobic. I sense the walls enclosing me. There was no air ventilation with the window and door shut tight against the rain storm. It felt like I was choking, couldn’t breath, and a strong urge to escape and go outside into the open. I thought it through. I’m at 6,000 feet where the air is thinner than sea level, so I’ll need time to acclimate. There is no breeze, so I open the window to create a draft and let the air circulate. With increased air flow and less heat, I’m able to finally fall asleep. I only suffered this one episode, became accustomed, and endured the lifestyle of a person from the “campo” and completed my planned five-day home stay.
Manny de adapted to rural life and took on the chore of collecting
water in the mornings for use throughout the day
The butterfly and flower gardens were a paradise
The muddy trails were challenging and humbling, slipping was frequent.
Values: Community, Gratitude, Loyalty, Living your Faith
People in the community lived through the War of Liberation and Contra War and talk about it every day. It negatively affected their lives and they’ll never forget it. These are the defining events for them. They share their stories with young people, visitors, and each other. I don’t think they’ll ever move on. No one is telling them to. They continue to relive the tragedies with each retelling of their stories and experiences. They may be suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome and don’t know it. They’ve never received psychological therapy or guidance, and probably won’t.
“The revolution was a beautiful thing” says Lucia. One of the great programs implemented by the new revolutionary regime was the “Crusade against Illiteracy”, and both Lucia and Rogelio learned to read and write. Lucia continued, “Because of the revolution, we now own a little piece of land where we can grow the food we need to live on. Before we had nothing, even though we worked long hours for low wages. Now we own our home and land. We belong to a cooperative where people help each other during coffee harvest. After the triumph of the revolution there were three to four years of improvements. Our children had opportunities to go to the university. We’re grateful to the revolution and that’s why we continue to support their cause. They’ve helped the poor people from the campos. It’s true the people that were rich, or in the cities didn’t benefit as much.”
Creamy-green colored raw dried coffee beans loaded into manual coffee roaster
Adopted orphan, "Jackson", developed the art & expertise of roasting coffee
Brown, cafe colored roasted coffee: would you like a cup?
Rogelio collaborated and added, “I favor the Sandinistas. I have much affection towards Daniel Ortega. He was a leader from early on when it wasn’t assured that the revolution would succeed. He suffered, went to prison, and put his life on the line when he fought for the people against Somoza’s National Guard. There are other people in the Sandinistas who can lead. But, Daniel Ortega is the only one who can govern Nicaragua right now. I fear that if the Sandinistas lose the election, we’ll need to stay alert that we don’t lose support for the cooperatives, schooling of our children, and for our health benefits. I’m a Catholic and have faith in our community and church. I study the bible and see Jesus as a revolutionary. He said he came to change things and started a revolutionary movement - Christianity. I see strong similarities between what Jesus started and the Nicaraguan revolution. They both sought to fight injustice and help the poor. I see application of the bible in our daily lives. We are living the word of God through the revolution.”
The patriarch of the family continued, “ We’re not here permanently. None of our material goods are lasting. We die and take nothing with us but our good and bad deeds. The past is gone and we can’t change it. The future is unknown and not assured. We need to live in the present. We need to be concerned with being good caretakers with what ‘The Almighty’ has given us. We need to safeguard it for future generations. That’s why I believe in the revolution. It’s not about returning to the past. It’s about doing right and justice in the present. When we follow the revolution, we follow the path of Jesus.”
Miraflor: "We need to safeguard it for future generations."
"Future generations", young granddaughter
View from Miraflor mountains into the Esteli Valley, river and city in the middle
My time in the campo is ending. Mixed feelings invade me as I prepare to leave. I'm saddened because Lucia, Rogelio and their kin accepted me and treated me as part of the family. I'll miss some of the aspects of the simple rural life like the calmness of peaceful mornings, fresh mountain air, songs and chirping of birds, fantastic beautiful vistas, green old trees, colorful flowers and butterflies, and genuinely kind, honest people. It's an appealing existence without the stresses of modern life such as cars and associated noises, congested traffic, competition for parking, jobs, and business, cell phones, and backlogged e-mail. I strongly missed some of the luxuries of modernity - indoor plumbing and flushing toilets, warm showers, running water to clean hands, electricity for lights and other appliances.
On my last night in Sontule, before dinner Rogelio said a prayer of gratitude. He waited for Lucia and the four grandchildren to sit down. He gave thanks to God for the meal. Gave recognition and credit to Lucia for preparing it. He then gave thanks for allowing me, his friend, to join them, to be able to visit and enjoy the area. He prayed for God to safeguard me in my travels. He gave thanks that we’re all healthy, in good spirits, and able to enjoy His bounty. I was moved by being included so intimately in the family dinner and prayers. I felt part of something I haven’t felt since my younger days growing up and having family dinners with my mother, father, and the rest of my sisters and brother. It brought back dear, loving family memories. Rogelio prayed that I would return to renew our friendship, and continue to experience this beautiful world of nature together. I thanked him for the kind prayers and gestures. Again, I’ll soon be continuing on my journey towards the unknown.
Meal of noodles, beans, rice and soy grains in a tomato sauce, corn tortilla,
limeade, with red spicy, chile condiment (upper right)
The only way off the mountain on a Sunday?
Ride in the back of the minister's truck. It was only for 3 hours.
I didn't even feel it until the next day, when I couldn't get out of bed.
The "unknown" is that way, heading southeast towards Costa Rica . . . . .
