Los Brasiles

Sundays are best in Nicaragua. Everyone's awake and work-free, and no matter how difficult the week may have been, everyone has plans. Church services, birthday parties, baseball games, and beach trips...from early morning the day crackles with excitement, which slowly begins to wane as the afternoon shadows begin to grow. By early evening the churches have been swept and the birthday cake eaten. Winners and losers trudge home together, recalling the calls that were made (or should have been). The beaches are empty, and everyone's at home. And the day's excitement has been replaced by the evening's restful solemnity.

Monday mornings, however, come early, and the climb to Sunday begins anew. At the Los Brasíles vocational school, instructor Mike Deibert and his students are already busy with the day's lesson, a new metalworking technique employed in the creation of ornamental hooks (for hanging keys, towels, plants, etc.) to be sold in local markets. The educational site is a functional mess. On one side piles of raw material – mostly long, unshaped metal rods – await creative hands, while the coal overspilling its bags across the “classroom” is ready to provide the needed heat. Directly in the middle, a late model car gets a well-deserved rest, having donated its innards to the observation of future mechanics, and a bright red welding machine sits restlessly alongside its half-finished, window-shaped security bars. The only observable uniformity is the coal dust spread evenly along the floor from wall to wall. It's a beautiful mess, full of potential.


What's now an established site providing self-esteem, jobs, and income to a community in need of each was an empty space just two years ago. The school's founder, Mike Deibert, has a background in elementary education and a longstanding interest in vocational skills and training. He wanted to combine these passions into a instructional program that would fit into Nicaragua's growing demand for skilled labor, and his search led him to Escuela Faro de Luz, which offered an open space, validity in the community's eyes, and access to qualified students. Mike's program includes training in metalwork, auto mechanics, and welding but remains flexible to further growth. What's stressed, however, isn't solely skill in labor but the development of the individual. Income alone won't change a community, and Mike's lessons are designed to reinforce the importance of work ethic, honesty, integrity, and teamwork so that the benefits are also apparent outside the workplace. On Sundays, for instance.


Nica HOPE's connections to Los Brasíles vocational school are deep indeed. Touring the site and learning of its successes and shortcomings provided the inspiration that eventually led to Nica HOPE's founding, and future schools will be designed based first upon local need but also based upon lessons learned at Los Brasíles. As such, a Nica HOPE representative will be observing classes, asking questions, and taking notes in order to learn first-hand the specifics of vocational training. In the near future, Nica HOPE will provide assistance in the post-instruction, occupational aspect of Mike's charge by developing outlets for product sales and job placement. And the symbiotic nature of the relationship will uplift us all, especially those most in need.

It's Friday afternoon and work week is winding down. Looking forward to Sunday.


Jordan Hooper
Managua, Nicaragua

El Rio

It's good to be home in Managua after a trek to Nicaragua's eastern coast. The trip consisted of two days of chicken busing to and from Rio San Juan and two more exploring in both San Carlos and San Juan del Norte – small, isolated towns at Rio San Juan's source and mouth – plus four days in canoe on the river itself. We surrounded ourselves with unexplored rain forest, rowing stroke after stroke, winding 120 kilometers towards the Caribbean. And there it was! Brown and stormy and not exactly what we expected but fulfilling nonetheless.

So what's this to do with Nica HOPE? As distant from society as I've been, far away from the Managua slums and the out-of-work youngsters, all I could think of was our budding organization. Reminders were everywhere.

We didn't know what to expect planning the trip. Everyone's been camping, but for who-knows-how-long on a mysterious waterway through Amazonian terrain? And that's once there. Twelve rocky hours one way from Managua fighting for dusty air in a recycled American school bus shakes patience bone-deep. Then the river, the river pushes forth and pulls back, pools deep and splashes over shallow rock beds, flows interminably straight before curving nearly back around on itself. Paddle after paddle we went, often struggling but enjoying our work in an environment like we'd never seen. Only few others have (relatively speaking), and many advised us along the way, but with mixed results. Ultimately, the river and our own determination determined our success.

Planning the trip reminded me of Nica HOPE from the beginning. We talked about it casually, passed beliefs, ideas, and hopes around, collected our thoughts, and began collecting resources. Everyone had volunteer experience, but an indefinite commitment to a from-scratch non-profit? And just getting there – and we're not even there yet – to a fully-operational, tax-exempt organization is a storm of forms and expenses, especially of time. Patience is key as progress rushes forward only to halt suddenly, changes direction only to return down a familiar track. Small accomplishments clear a path through a sometimes overwhelming but always interesting and enjoyable challenge to make a difference. And in the end, it's up to us – to everyone involved – to see this through. We may not know when or where we'll arrive, but we're moving in the right direction.

So get moving yourself. Accept a challenge. For more about ours, check back frequently.

Jordan Hooper
Managua, Nicaragua

Next up: Vocational School Los Brasiles