Veintisiete de Junio

Today Adan and I were not home much. We went on several errands and worked on the Café until dark. Lilly and Donna (project coordinators for Building New Hope) stopped by the café to see that we were still sanding and painting and cleaning. Pleased at our initiative, they invited us to dinner. We went to my least favorite street in the whole town, Calle Calzada which, frequented by foreigners and large groups of dopey white teenagers, feels like church camp in Europe or something. It definitely doesn’t feel like Nicaragua.

As we sit at our outdoor table amidst a swarm of irritating foreigner kids buzzing in twangy English, a young Nica catches my eye. He sits across the narrow road and silently with his hazy red eyes, begs for leftovers. I notice him as I swallow my last bite. As the swarms buzz away, the young man inches slowly and humbly across the road. The waiter is clearing plates and refuses to look up at the young man who is kindly requesting the half-eaten pizza crusts that are buried under oily napkins. As the young man meekly extends his arm toward abandoned scraps, the waiter zips in and snatches the plate, adding it to the pile in his arms and shaking his head at the pitiful beggar. I sense his embarrassment and though I’ve always felt more compassion for those who ask for food over money, I know there is nothing I can do for him at this time. I intend to buy him a plate of his own but realize that we haven’t a centavo on us, and I cannot bring myself to ask Donna to buy him some food. At that moment, I feel choked because I cannot help this very hungry person and I am certain that, back at home, my kitten has just died.

When we get home, Adam looks me in the eyes and says quietly, “Do you want me to go upstairs and check?” I stand in the kitchen and wait for him to return, already knowing what he will find between the toilet and the adobe wall. When he came back downstairs, he made a ‘nada’ gesture with his hands and a single click sound with his mouth; he reached for a plastic bag, and disappeared back upstairs.

I don’t feel as much relief as I thought I would. I feel, instead, a hallow frustration and a dull ache of failure.

We went from 4 cats to 2 cats in one day. Aries is missing in action and we fear she may have fallen off the balcony and gotten swept away with the trash on the curb. We cannot think of any other explanation, for she was in our room the entire night and when we woke up, she was no longer in our room. She was no where to be found.