Imagine this: Your alarm clock goes off at 7:00 am, but you've been awake long before then because the roosters in the neighborhood have been singing their song since sunrise and the family you're living with has been preparing for the day since 5:00. You get up, go to the suitcase that contains two weeks' worth of clothes, dress yourself, and go to have breakfast. The meal will likely consist of rice and beans because those two ingredients are always present at meal time. You and your family have a conversation about the previous nights' activities and the current day's plans, and then you're off to language class.

But because you don't have a car, you begin your walk to class with a backpack on your shoulders full of notebooks, a dictionary, and pencils galore. It's hot. Unimaginably hot, even though it is only about 8:00 at this point, the humidity makes your skin sticky and you feel like you smell as though you haven't showered for days.

At class, you're drilled with Spanish grammar, learning how to correctly use different conjugated verbs and match articles with nouns. You have to pause your speaking often to consult your handy dandy dictionary, and then, for memory's sake, you write the new word in a notebook to study later.

Upon arriving home after class, you're covered in sweat and your shoulders feel like like they're ready to fall off. You set your backpack down so you can go to the table to have lunch with your family. Rice and beans are again filling your plate, and maybe this time your dad prepared a special fruit-based drink to have with the meal.

And then, because you are such a good student, you get to work promptly on all of the homework assigned for the night. Not only do you have assignments to finish for your language class, but you also have several to complete for your school back home.

After about three hours of working, you've finished a good portion so you decide to take a break. Your family is eager to spend time with you, to get to know you, so you spend the evening sitting in rocking chairs in the living room. You share stories and laugh at jokes, bonding over things though you're very clearly from different cultures.

When you say goodnight to each and every member of the family, you go to the bathroom to shower. But rather than turning on the tap and standing under the nice stream of flowing water, you must take a bowl and scoop water from an enormous trashcan filled with cold water. Sometimes, there is running water and you can fill the trashcan again, but very rarely do you actually use the shower head.

Bones tired and muscles feeling tense, you decide to hit the hay. You turn on the fan siting in your room and set it to oscillate. You have a room mate to think about after all, and as she finishes her bible reading she turns off the lights so you both can go to sleep.

And in the morning, it all begins again.

If you've ever had the burning desire to know what it's like to be abroad in Nicaragua (and even if you haven't) what you just imagined is the very real life I live every day now. It is not just a story; it isn't something that I wrote to have you admire my creativity or my writing ability. This is me, happily welcoming you to my to my life as a study abroad student in Nicaragua.

¡Bienvenidos! (Welcome!)