Tipitapa is a small, impoverished community on the outskirts of Managua. So far, its Wikipedia entry contains only a single notable event ? a treaty signed 80 years ago ending one of the US?s numerous and unfortunate interventions in Nicaragua. To get to our destination, we drove over unpaved roads with massive ruts and puddles ? at one point two of us had to get out to improve the ground clearance of the struggling Hyundai we were riding in.
Our destination was a tiny cinder block house owned by Rosa, a local woman who runs a learning center sponsored by the Wisconsin/Nicaragua Partnership. The center is located in the front rooms of her house. Light comes mainly from open windows or small fiberglass panels overhead. The harsh sun on the tin roof just overhead adds heat to the already-stifling temperatures outside.
Despite the close quarters and warmth, the place was teeming with activity during our visit on Saturday. Balloons had been hung from the ceiling in honor of our visit, and handwritten signs on construction paper outlined the policies of the center. (For example, ?Dejar limpio el area de Clase,? or ?Leave the class area clean.?) In one corner, a group of women worked on crochet projects ? an income-generating skill they learned at the center. Other craft projects were going on elsewhere. While we were there, Ruth and Heidy from the SJDS library made use of their exceptional handicraft skills and demonstrated several projects to the assembled adults.
The most vocal contingent, however, were the 20-30 kids who swarmed over the place. They were there because, since April, the center has also become a tiny lending library. A single shelf of books in the dark back room has become a central attraction for the kids in the neighborhood. They show up on Saturday mornings to read and exchange their books, which have been provided by Jane Mirandette?s Hester J. Hodgdon Libraries for All Program.
The library operates using the same ?library in a box? protocol as the San Juan del Sur Biblioteca Movil. For these kids who have little access to any other type of reading material, the books provided by the biblioteca are windows into the world beyond the barrio in which they live. And they are reading them voraciously. Borrowed books are noted on cards corresponding to each patron. In the four months since the library was inaugurated, the cards for some young readers have been filled more than twice over, adding up to 25 or more books. As part of our visit, Jane dropped off another full Rubbermaid bin of donated books, causing a minor stampede among the kids.
The most popular books may be predictable for anyone with children ? or who was a child. The kids picked classics like ?Where the wild things are,? ?Curious George,? and ?Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.? The last is especially fun in Spanish, since the book?s refrain has a much nicer ring: ?Alexander y el Dia Terrible, Horrible, Espantoso, Horroso.? It documents a way of life quite different from that experienced by these children ? it?s doubtful many of them carpool to preschool, for example. But that doesn?t seem to stop them from enjoying the book.
As we read with the kids, we noticed a few young faces peeking through the narrow gaps in the concrete wall separating the house from the adjoining property. On the other side were five boys ranging in age from toddler to preteen. Although they live literally feet from their new library, they are apparently not permitted to come next door and read or check out books. The reasoning here is unclear to us, but perhaps the parents fear getting roped into something that they might have to pay for, or becoming entangled with a group that may have some sort of hidden agenda. Whatever the reason, it is clear that the idea of a public lending library is utterly foreign to most Nicaraguans ? an obstacle that must be overcome if access to information is to be improved.
Wanting to involve the kids in the fun, Victoria began reading ?Jorge el Curioso? (Curious George) to them through the wall. The kids loved every minute of it, and took care to lift up their youngest brother so that he could see the pictures. Later on we also passed them cookies through the wall.
Jane said she sees that wall as a metaphor for the barriers being overcome by Nicaraguan lending libraries. At one time, she said, all of Nicaragua was on the other side of that wall. But as they get access to books, the walls are coming down.