When Luis Chamorro was 13, a cousin broke him off with his first surfboard. Getting to the beach though, was up to him.

“I used to walk to Maderas (surf beach), because back then there really was no other means of transportation, tourism hadn’t blown up yet,” Luis recalls. “That’s how I got started, I learned by myself there at the beach and eventually I began competing.”

Luis won his first surf competition in 1999 and it motivated him to keep going strong to win more events – because after all, for a kid addicted to surfing, winning meant more free boards and surf accessories.

Winning also helped him make contacts in the industry and just over a year ago he became one of the few locals in San Juan to open and operate his own surf shop and distribution company.

These days, besides competing solo and as a part of Nicaragua’s National team, and running his shop, Luis ‘Baloy’ Chamorro is doing everything he can to promote surf to another generation – and gender – of San Juaneños.

What has been the competition you won or competed in that you hold closest to your heart?

In Panama there was a contest and I placed third Central American. I made it to the finals and what I loved the most is that I was treated like a professional surfer, you know…at that level. It was an experience I had never lived before.

Everyone calls you Baloy and that’s also the name of your surf shop. What does it mean?

There was a surfer with the last name Maloy, but I used to pronounce it with a ‘B’ instead. He thought it was funny and started calling me ‘Baloy’ and it stuck, it became my nickname.

Tell us a little about your store, you are one of the few locals to own your own surf shop.

The shop has been running for about a year and two months. And besides my own surf business, I also distribute grids, fins, t-shirts, boards and more. I partnered with FCS (Fin Control Systems, one of the premier surf accessory companies) and I’m the one who distributes to most of the other surf shops in San Juan.

What do you see coming for you in the next 10 years?

For my store, I plan to keep growing if God lets me. For me, as I get older I want to evolve and try to help the younger generation that’s behind me.

What do you think of the younger generation of surf in San Juan, for example Rex Calderón, and what about girl surfers like Dunia?

Rex is already at a strong competitive level internationally. He’s already represented Nicaragua in a foreign country, is a great surfer and has a definite future in the sport.

Dunia is someone I’ve been training because I would really like to see Nicaraguan women learn to surf. Generally we don’t have girls on the water.

Why do you think that is? Is there a certain amount of sexism towards women surfers?

Yes I think you are right. It’s definitely more complicated for a women. I had seen Dunia around and she had a lot of talent. I met her in Costa Rica when I participated in a contest. When I came back I looked her up, and thought that she could get motivated to make the circuit and represent Nicaragua with the rest of us. It would be great for other local girls to see her, and somehow be inspired to participate, because nowadays, except for a local in Santana, we only have foreign girls participating in the circuit.

I do like to motivate not only the girls, but everyone. If they need help I try to provide it with wax, a leash, something. I help them because I was helped a lot, so I have to pay it forward. Not necessarily with the ones that helped me, but with the ones that are on their way.

How do you see this new generation? Are they taking the sport in a positive, disciplined way?

Yes, I believe so. I did a small event called “El Semillero”, and it was only for kids, and they came from all over the place, from Popoyo, from all over to compete. I set it up, told them I would help them with transportation and get them inspired. The ones that really want to surf, it’s always there…existing. I know of two kids that are about 12 or 13, the age I was just starting to stand on the board, but they are already ripping it. So that means that when they hit my age, if God lets them, they could be in the world. Those are the new generations.

“Look at me! Look at me,” Israel yells in English to his teacher, as the 11-year-old stands up on a surfboard at Playa Maderas. His teacher, Emily Colder, a staff member of San Juan del Sur’s Barrio la Planta School, congratulates him as he rides the wave onto shore. About 50 of the school’s almost 200 students are spending a special Sunday at the beach learning to surf as part of a fieldtrip for perfect attendance.

The Barrio la Planta Project is named after the La Planta neighborhood, an overlooked community in the beach town of San Juan del Sur, where close to 3000 people reside. The families live like many in an economically underdeveloped country. Poverty, violence, malnutrition and illiteracy are some of the issues they must deal with day to day. According to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), 79.9% of the population in Nicaragua lives with less than $2 per day. Barrio la Planta falls into that category. Many families live in small one-room shacks that hold six or more people. Dirt floors and no water for most of the day are the norm. Many of the men work as fishermen but only get to make about one fishing trip a month, leaving them searching for jobs most of the year. With the boom of tourism in San Juan del Sur, many opportunities for work have been hidden away from the people of La Planta. The Barrio la Planta Project is helping to change that. But to truly understand the rise of this project you must understand the story of its founder, Dyani Makous, 26.

Dyani has an adventurous soul that fills her with the desire to do new things. An education activist from the start, she joined the Philadelphia Student Union in her hometown of Philadelphia. For six years she stood up for higher education opportunities for low-income students. After graduating from the University of Emerson she joined Citizen Schools, a program for enhancing the academic development of middle school students, where she was their team leader for several years.

In 2008, Dyani packed her bags and headed to Nicaragua. She had landed a job that any adventurous lit major would want. She was going to be writing for a travel guide for a few months while traveling through Nicaragua. When she arrived in San Juan del Sur, the warm smiles, beautiful Pacific waters and the humble, passionate culture won her over. Living on the travel guide’s salary became a waste of her time, as she found herself broke, spending more than she made just visiting the places she was supposed to be writing about. By December she was living in La Planta, were she roomed with a local family. At Martha Lisa and Juan Carlo’s home Dyani says she felt like part of the family, sharing meals, birthdays and afternoon chats about life. She was part of a community where sharing was a valued commodity amongst neighbors, even if they had little to share. She wanted to give back to the family that took her in when she had nothing. “I felt a strong desire to share something with them,” she remembers. “While I didn’t have any money to give, there was one thing I did have that could benefit them: English.”

What began as a simple idea to teach her new family and neighbors English, soon grew into something much bigger, and almost one year ago, The Barrio la Planta Project became a non-profit organization that not only provides free English education but also art classes, healthy recreational activities and and all of San Juan.

Through donations Dyani was also able to expand her staff in order to teach new classes and reach more kids. The school has grown from 5 to almost 200 students. Six remarkable teachers are now enhancing the education of the barrio kids, as well as giving free evening English classes to local adults. Using unconventional methods, such as learning through traveling, and giving positive reinforcements, like field trips for perfect attendance, they help the kids overcome some of the challenges that poverty has left them with, while fostering a culture of teamwork, confidence and community.

The sub-director of the program, Yaoska Jimenez, 28, was born and raised in Nicaragua and graduated with a bachelor’s degree in company administration and marketing with a minor in art and photography from the University of Central America in Managua. She strongly believes art is a way of discovering your passions, which is the essence of what the project is about: helping the students discover what they are the best at by exposing them to different stimuli. “You know, it is not the same to give them what they need, better to show them how to obtain it themselves,” she says.

Together Dyani and Yaoska have been working hard, spreading the word about the project, including organizing fundraisers in New York, Philadelphia, and Los Angeles, as well as applying for grants to reward their best students. They have also created summer workshops taught by volunteers knowledgeable on specific subjects. For instance, last year they had a theatrical workshop and this year ideas such as a creative writing class in Spanish have been mentioned.

The response and enthusiasm from the community, both local and international, has been inspiring. The city and the mayor of San Juan donated an old recreation building so the kids can have a proper school, as well as a center for activities. Amayo, an international company that produces wind energy in Nicaragua, has also taken an interest in the project and donated money to the restoration of the classrooms. While on a smaller, but no less important scale, artists Ruben Gadhimi and Emily Reed have helped bring the school life with their colorful murals on the classroom walls, the teams from Nicaragua Surf Report (NSR) and San Juan Surf have volunteered time to give the kids free surf lessons and local restaurants like Bamboo Beach Club have helped sponsor many events.

The progress the students have made is evident in their behavior. Thanks to the Barrio La Planta Project, some of the troubles that accompany poverty do not seem like such an obstacle anymore and many in the community have been given a new sense of pride as they see what great things they are capable of. It has been rewarding for the teachers as well. Emily Colder, academics director for the school, who had previously taught in the States expressed her unconditional gratitude to the endeavor, “In the States, I would teach hundreds of students and only touch the lives of two or three, here I feel I reach every single one of my students every single day.”

The motto of the school is “Help a child grow” and that is exactly what this project is about. Creating a supportive, healthy environment where children who don’t have much can grow within themselves and persevere. The project is growing to help more children, but they still need a lot of assistance to ensure that all services remain free. Help, in the form of donations or volunteering, is badly needed and all tax-deductable donations go directly to the school. Help the children of Barrio Planta beat the cycle of poverty. Help a child grow.

To donate money. supplies, or to volunteer, please visit: www.barrio-planta-project.blogspot.com

His childhood bridged both Nicaraguan and U.S. culture, so novelist Silvio Sirias has a rather distinct perspective on both countries. He puts it this way: “Because of the unusual circumstances of my upbringing—born in Los Angeles to Nicaraguan parents but having spent my adolescent years in Nicaragua—I feel at home straddling the hyphen, the dash between my Nicaraguan and American identities. Yet, in all honesty, when I’m in need of a break from my cultural and linguistic schizophrenia, I seek refuge on my ‘American’ side as I find English [is] the language in which my brain likes to relax.”

He prefers to write in English as well, enabling him to grant non–Spanish speakers a stunning insider’s view of la vida Nica. Sirias’s two Nicaragua-set novels, Bernardo and the Virgin (2007) and Meet Me Under the Ceiba (2009), are unlike any book I’ve read about the country, in both form and content. In addition to his sharp bicultural lens, Sirias employs multi-voice narratives to present fictionalized accounts of real-life events—specifically, miracles and murders in small-town Nicaragua.

Sirias offers a simple yet remarkably accurate portrayal of daily Nicaraguan life. His text is riddled with distinctive Nicaraguanismos and sensory details. The sickly-sweet taste of Rojita, for example, or the sour smell of rum-breath as his characters go about their business.

“My top priority when writing a novel is develop a strong plot,” he says. “The storyline has to hold a reader’s interest from the opening sentence through the concluding one. But I’m also convinced that a good tale must have interesting characters; and interesting characters require an interesting setting. So, as you can see, the setting is a key ingredient in my fictional mosaic … Nicaragua is a place of wonders. Yet for me to take the reader there successfully, story, character, setting, and cultural authenticity must each be dealt with meticulously, as well as lovingly.”

Silvio Sirias lives in Panama City, where he is a professor of literature. His next book takes place in El Salvador.

Joshua Berman is also the author of the Moon Nicaragua Handbook

Esto va suave…
By Jonathan Jackson, Photography Anthony Acosta

Granada, Nicaragua – March 2010
The white microbus full of pro skaters pauses as it prepares to pull out of the convenience store parking lot. On the side of the road a group of teenage boys still dressed in their catholic school uniforms – each with a small personal touch like an orange beenie, a Misfits backpack, or a pair of Vans – stand waiting to cross the street. One of the kids happens to glance over his shoulder and sees the bus. His eyes scrunch up and he stares for a few seconds. The bus starts to take off. The boy has a moment of clarity, “Chico Brenes! It’s Chico Brenes!” he exclaims as he slaps his friends’ shoulders. The rest of the crew starts to yell and wave at the bus as it drives off. When they realize that it’s only crossing the street to refill at a gas station, the group rushes over.

Inside the van, the skateboarders watch the kids sprint across the intersection. “Damn, Cheeks, you’re the man,” says Rob G to Chico as the youngsters clamor outside for a photo-op. Chico just smiles as he climbs out.

Nica
Since 2007, at least twice a year, Chico Brenes has been bringing pro skaters down to Nicaragua, or as he and his friends warmly refer to it, ‘Nica.’ This most recent trip includes a group of established skaters including Rob Gonzalez, Kenny Anderson, Steve Nesser and the youngest of the bunch, Jose Rojo.

Most days of the tour the crew rolls out in the microbus, traveling to different spots and cities to skate. And while landing tricks for videos and snapping sick photos are the official reasons the trips to Nicaragua pop off, for Chico they are equally about moments like this one with the group of young skaters. Having the opportunity to make an impact on the youth and help the skate culture in Nicaragua grow is something the 34-year-old professional skateboarder from El Almendro has been dreaming about for a long time.

As a kid in the 80’s growing up in El Almendro, a small town in the Rio San Juan department of the country, Chico’s most indelible memories weren’t of skate manuals and grinds, they were of the violence and chaos he saw as civil war erupted around him.

With bloodshed and paranoia sweeping through the country, his mother was wounded after being shot in the face by an acquaintance. She survived, and willing to do anything to get her son away from a similar fate or a life, and possible death, as a young soldier, she arranged for him to head north and eventually sneak across the Mexican border with the help of a “coyote” and meet her in the United States.

Around the corner from his new life and new house in Daly City, California, a suburb of San Francisco, Chico found a skate park. He borrowed boards from other kids and learned to skate for fun; eventually saving enough cash to buy a used board from a kid in the neighborhood. Chico Brenes finally had his own skateboard and it was on.

In the right place, at the right time and with the right combination of determination and natural skill, Chico made a name for himself skating in San Francisco at the Embarcadero Center Plaza, known among skateboarders simply as “EMB” – which was regarded as one of the most famous skate spots in the world for a number of years – eventually leading to his career as a professional skater.

Fast Forward
18 years as a pro, a collection of signature kicks, countless skate videos, custom decks and trips around the world later, Chico has paid his dues and parlayed an impeccably smooth and consistent style into a place as one of the most respected professional skateboarders in the sport and a role model and icon to a younger generation of skaters. Nowhere is that more apparent than in Nicaragua, where Chico has stepped into a role as a sort of Skate Ambassador between the two countries that have made him, because despite the negative circumstances surrounding his departure from Nicaragua, Chico never lost the love of his home country, of his roots and of who he is. It’s no surprise that as the only Nicaraguan pro skater, one of his greatest dreams is to share skateboarding with the country of his birth and share the Nicaragua he loves with his friends and fellow professional skaters from the States.

“Nica’s not for everybody,” he says knowingly, referring to a mental selection process he goes through when deciding which pros get the invite. “We stay at my aunt’s house in the real Nicaragua, not in a hotel or something. Mosquitoes, bunk beds, (electric) fans, the heat, the food…some guys can’t hack it.”

And while the occasionally rough conditions in Nicaragua might be off-putting for some too accustomed to the comforts of more developed countries, the skaters assembled for this trip seem like a perfect match for Nicaragua’s rugged beauty.

“We all get along so good, because we’re down for whatever,” says Kenny Anderson, a native of Las Vegas and longtime friend who Chico has been trying to get to come down and skate Nicaragua since the very first Nica skate mission. As a pro who travels around the world several months out of the year, for Kenny a trip like this is a refreshing change of pace: “Being able to stay with Chico’s family is just the best. You really get to experience the country in a unique way.”

Rob Gonzalez, originally from Long Beach, CA and on his third Nica tour of duty, compares his Nica experience to that of other countries he has skated, “(Nicaragua) is way more colorful, rugged, interesting, just the way the whole country looks. You go out and skate in a place like this, it feels like an adventure.”

The adventure goes both ways too, because at every spot the crew stops to skate, a crowd, sometimes big sometimes small, comes out to take it all in. At one park in Managua where the group stops, the commotion of skateboards brings a security guard over. But instead of coming over to chase them away, he takes a seat close by to check out the scene. No doubt, with the possible exception of the Eskimo ice cream cart coming by, the manual 360’s on the tabletop are the best action he’ll see all day.

Central Skate
“Ever since I started coming down to visit Nicaragua, in like ’92, and saw some kids skating, it had been my dream to open a skate shop down here,” Chico says.

In May of 2009 he fulfilled his first dream, when he opened the first legit skate store in Nicaragua, Central Skate Shop. The shop carries decks, accessories, and all the latest gear at the best price Chico can get it for. But the idea is to not just be a store but a center for the skate community in Nicaragua, a place to get tips, watch videos and talk skating. For Chico it’s all about having supports in place to help the skate culture grow.

“The next thing we need is a skatepark. I’ve been talking with the city and some other groups to see if we can get some land and try to get some help from my sponsors. There’s a few ideas in the works. But we really need to open up a skatepark for the kids so they can just go and they don’t always have to skate in the streets and don’t have to worry about getting hit by a car, don’t have to worry about getting robbed.”

Even without a park, the Nica skate culture has been making great strides. The skate demo the crew put on in March drew the biggest crowd Chico remembers seeing for a skate event in Nicaragua. Chico was mobbed with little shorties and up-and-coming Nica skaters snapping pics, asking for autographs or just wanting to say ‘what’s up’. He even had one kid around 12 years-old come up and hit him with a hand-off:

“This little kid handed me a note he had written and then took off cause he was shy and didn’t want to watch me read it. It said like ‘Chico, can you take me back to the United States so that I can become a pro skater like you?’ I was blown away. That touched me, man,” he recalls.

A few days later, as the crew is filming around San Judas in Managua with a crowd already gathered, the same kid shows up with an ancient looking board, a grind rail and an infectious smile. While a few of the other pros try to land some tricks on film, Chico takes a mob of kids over by a set of stairs to skate. Some youngsters not too familiar with working the ol’ shred stick try out Chico and Kenny’s boards, but end up either doing a whole lot of nothing or wiping out when they get to the stairs.

‘The Kid’ steps up and gets a hold of Chico’s board and attempts to ollie the staircase, but even he can’t land it. After a couple failed attempts, he shouts to a friend who comes through the crowd and hands him his ancient looking deck with the Chocolate sticker and tiny, grinded-down wheels. With a piece of familiarity under his feet, ‘the Kid’ takes off and ollies the first staircase, skates down to the second and ollies that one too. Smooth and nonchalant, just like his idol. The other kids and the pro’s go wild. As he ascends the stairs, his peers greet him with high fives and slaps on the back. And before he takes off, Chico hits him back with a hand-off: giving him his board. The Kid clutches his new deck like it is made out of gold and goes to sit on the steps and show it to his friends.

“The scene is growing. I see the potential,” Chico says with a smile. “It’s like back in the day, back to the roots. [In Nicaragua] they are skating for the love of it and that’s what matters.”

Nicaraguan pro skater Chico Brenes, Central Skate Shop and Hecho are proud to present the Nicaraguan premiere of “Give Me My Money Chico,” the first full-length skate video from LRG, this Wednesday April 28th at Cinemas Galerias Santo Domingo in Managua.

Don’t miss the opportunity to see this film on the big screen! The video was filmed over a four year period all around the world, including Nicaragua. The night promises to be an experience. Chico will be signing autographs at 7pm inside the theatre, with the movie scheduled to begin at 7:30pm The cost of entrance is just 40 cordobas.

Date: April 28, 2010
Time: Autographs 7:00pm
GMMMC Premiere: 7:30 pm
Cost: just 40 cordobas

After the screening, the night continues with a special after party at The Reef (also in Galerias Santo Domingo), featuring Evan Rhodes and special guest and drink promotions. After party entrance is 60 cords.

The original muse for a then 5-year-old aspiring fashionista, Shantall Lacayo’s Barbie was the first to have a wardrobe full of the talented fashion designer’s exclusive, one-of-kind outfits, and was no doubt the envy of all the dolls in Managua. 20 years later, continuing with that same passion that led her to design doll clothes from any little piece of fabric she could get her hands on, Shantall Lacayo has become a name synonymous with Nicaraguan fashion.

Currently residing in Buenos Aires and fresh off a successful hometown presentation of her latest collection ‘Oleos sobre tela’ (literally, ‘Paintings over fabric’), which showcased the paintings of Nicaraguan artists interpreted through her original designs, Lacayo has her sights set on redesigning the perception of fashion from Nicaragua.

Where did your love for fashion come from? And when did you decide to become a designer and make it your profession?

Since I was 5, I remember my grandma used to take me to Central commercial Managua to buy little pieces of fabric and I used to sew things for my dolls and Barbies. It’s been my real passion. It’s what I love the most…well, my mother is first, but I always loved designing clothes and I have known since I was 14, 13 what I wanted to be. But the thing is, is that the career of fashion designer wasn’t here in Nicaragua. My mother was a single mother and I don’t have a relationship with my father, and when I finished high school I didn’t have the money to go to New York or to go to another place to study fashion design. But I had my vision of what I wanted to do in the future so I decided to study marketing because I knew that it was going to help me, so I studied that here for 5 years in the UAM.

So when did Buenos Aires enter the picture?

When I finished high school and started at the university I began working with my first tailor, selling clothes with her. When I finished the university, I had the money to study what I wanted to. In December of 2007 I went to Buenos Aires to see what the design was like, because a friend of mine was going. I started researching the country and found it wasn’t as expensive as New York or Brazil but in design it is very good. I decided to go, but I didn’t want to leave what I had done for the past 5 years of my life. By this point, I had 3 people working for me and they had homes and jobs and I didn’t want to be like I’m leaving and that’s it. So I told my Mom we would keep working together. I learned how to draw with the computer so I could send the work to Nicaragua while I was studying in Buenos Aires and my mother would handle the relationship with the clients.

The first year in Buenos Aires was to learn about the history of fashion design and then the second year we learned about creating fabrics, about using patterns and techniques on fabric to create textures. I’m so happy that I studied what I studied and that I opened my mind and learned so many things that I never imagined I could.

Has your background in marketing helped you as a designer?

Well, I have friends in fashion design here and in Buenos Aires and I think that if you ask me what’s the difference between them and me, it’s not who is better or worse, it is that in my case I have another vision of design because I studied marketing. I love designing, I love that my pieces could be different and very crazy, but I could not stop always thinking about marketing, about growing my company. I have some friends who are happy just because they got an article in a magazine, or they win a contest or do a fashion show. And I feel like if you want to grow you cannot be satisfied with just that. You have to work and create and you have to try to always think about selling. I’m always thinking that people have to like it and people have to want it, because if people don’t want it or like it it’s just going to be there.

Where did the idea for your fashion show, Oleos Sobre Telas, originate?

When I started to learn how to do my own fabric with my own designs I started thinking about painters. I started thinking about how we have so many good painters here. I know there are many people they know many of the painters of Nicaragua and value them a lot. But there are many young people who don’t know anything about Nicaraguan painters. So I thought it could be a nice idea, it could be something very cultural, to work with the painters, to open the minds of younger people and let them know more about our painters. I think it’s wonderful. I mean Denis Nuñez, Ernesto Cuadra, they are all incredible and I’m very happy to have worked with them.

Do you think you have found your essence as a designer?

I have my style, the cut of the dresses, of the skirts of everything, but I haven’t found the essence. I would like it to be something inspired by my country. Maybe the painters of my Nicaragua, or maybe the Atlantic Coast, or maybe our fauna, maybe our flora. Before, I used to be inspired by what was new on the red carpet and I would see it and change my style a little. But now I think that as a designer you need to have some inspiration from your culture. Roberto Cavalli, he is recognized because of his style and that’s what each designer has. I want people to see that there is always Nicaragua in my designs. If I’m going to produce something it will come from here. I want it to be known as a product from here. I don’t want to be known as a designer that lives in Buenos Aires, I want to be known as a designer from Nicaragua, a Nicaraguan brand that opens a store in Buenos Aires as a franchise. Well, that’s the idea, but to do it there’s a long road to travel.

At the university I did my thesis on why the department stores do not sell clothes from national designers to help them and the country produce more. I interviewed many people from the stores and they said the problem was with the designers and the clients. The problem with the designers is they didn’t have the quantity or the quality of fabric. And the other problem is, you have a dress that is made here and another that is made in Hong Kong or even Panama, and the clients are like ‘Why am I going to pay the same price for something made here (in Nicaragua) when I can get Tommy or “Brand X”? So that is what we have to change. I’m trying to change people’s perceptions, so that you can see a dress (from a Nicaraguan designer) and you know that Benetton isn’t going to sell it, Tommy is not going to sell it, Kami, on the second floor of the Galerias is not going to sell it, but you still want the dress. That’s what I’m trying to do.

Any advice for those young people who have dreams but feel that here in Nicaragua they might not be able to make them come true?

What I would tell them is to fight and fight and fight, because you can do it. Thanks to God, I’m someone who learned, studied and had a good education but all I have got so far wasn’t just luck or just because of contacts and people who helped me. I’m here doing what I’m doing and getting what I’m getting because I have worked really hard. There are even people from my family who told me that it was a silly thing to be a fashion designer. Thank God my Mom always supported me. Sometimes people believe they are helping you not to make a mistake and lose money and time, but when you want something with all your heart, you fight for it, no matter what. And if you try, and go up and down, up and down, sooner or later you’ll get it right. That’s the way I’m living in Buenos Aires, going up and down, but that’s how it is. We need to keep dreaming… I had to study something else before having the chance and opportunity to really learn what I like, but I never lost my vision.

Amber Dobrzensky is a Canadian writer and breakdancer who currently lives in Nicaragua. She was instrumental in organizing a series of breakdancing events which culminated in the Nicalibre festival, where b-boys from all over Nicaragua battled for the opportunity to earn a sponsored trip to compete at the Batalha Final b-boy competition in Brazil. The following are excerpts from a diary she kept, documenting the trip and the b-boy’s experiences. – Jonathan Jackson

When discussing hip hop, Nicaragua is one of the last places on earth that springs to most minds. Conjuring up images of volcanoes, Sandino, and a revolution, this land is a world away from the slick hip hop videos featuring b-boys (or breakers, commercially known as ‘breakdancers’) that you’ve seen on MTV. Despite the scene here being both quite small and mostly underground, you’ll find active branches in towns and cities from Bluefields to Chinandega. 2009’s NICALIBRE festival sought to give the b-boy community a platform for international exchange and exposure.

The winners, Electro Break crew: Larry, Daniel, David aka “Gringo”, Antonio aka “Casco” and Javier, and the individuals’ champion Pasquier, based in Managua and Leon, battled not only to make it out of the Nicaraguan qualifiers, but they battle daily just to make time for their favorite and only diversion. While Casco Loaisiya dances around his full-time job at Café Soluble SA, life-long friend Gringo cuts hair in Huembes. Larry, best known for his ‘moonwalking’ at the Gallo Pinto show in the National Theatre, was supporting his wife and daughter as a systems administrator for Corporacion CEFA. León boys Pasquier, enrolled in computer programming studies and designing tattoos for extra cash, and Javier, a b-boy ‘power move’ specialist with the rock-like strength of the Terminator, are two of only a handful of dancers pushing the scene in that region. Youngest recruit Daniel, 20, ran with a tough gang of ‘pandilleras’ in his early teens and escaped his violent lifestyle when he discovered breaking, choosing instead to dedicate his time to the art. These boys have families to support, all bar one with children of their own, but somehow always make time for b-boying. The fact that there’s no profit to be made through this talent – with none of the opportunities available to b-boys living in countries with commercial dance and hip hop industries – is a testament to the rawness of their passion. The opportunity to travel to and represent in Brazil was, for these young men, an impossible dream set to come true.

When the original sponsors pulled their funding this dream was nearly crushed, until InVitro Productions went to work documenting the story of these six dancers and Claro stepped in at the last minute to save the day as the new patrons of the “national team.” Against all odds, November 2009 saw six Nicaraguan B-Boys set off to São Paulo, to put their nation on the Hip Hop map…and “this is how the story goes.”

19.11.09

At 5:30 am the documentary crew rolled up to Barrio San Luis Sur in Carretera Norte section of Managua. Gringo and Casco, who grew up here together, had put up the rest of the boys and the neighborhood was buzzing with the news. Local friends and supporters turned up to wave them off, and at the last minute someone stripped his wall and donated a Nicaraguan flag for the trip. Everyone played it cool until the plane took off and ascended over the city, where the aerial view of Managua and the country was very real evidence that we were all, really and truly, on the way to Brazil.

The event organizers met us at the airport on the other side in São Paulo. We were ferried to the Extreme Club in Morumbi, São Paulo’s business district, a multi-purpose space that held both the venue and camping-style accommodations for visiting dancers. Guests were handed mats and sleeping bags upon entry; the Nica boys snagged a corner to set up a base alongside representatives from Chile, Colombia, Venezuela, Argentina, Uruguay, Panama, Costa Rica, Israel and the US, as well as the Brazilian hosts. The boombox was blaring classic b-boy funk and the room smelled like the sweaty socks of the 100-plus b-boys and b-girls all jamming, mingling, and checking out the competition.

Dancers with Bruce Lee-bodies dripping sweat did their best to intimidate each other (and impress the b-girls) in casual circles, before busting outside to tag the neighborhood together and have a sneaky smoke. The jamming carried on until 4 am and team Nica only had a few hours sleep before the next busy day.

20.11.09
At 9 am the minivan picked us up at the Extreme club and we set off. A burst of rain early in the morning had led to a leaky roof, and even less sleep for the boys. The organizers trying to sort it out were stressed, and probably happy to get some of the visitors off their hands. As we drove across the city, the group had a better chance to absorb the immensity of São Paulo, with its millions of inhabitants (over 10 million, almost twice the population on Nicaragua) and thousands of skyscrapers.

First stop was Beco in Vila Madelena, a patch of twisted streets where a dedicated group of São Paulo graffiti writers (including BOLETA & HIGHRAFF) continually transform the community’s walls. Several hours of posing, interviews, and dancing produced some great footage and by late afternoon everyone was happy but exhausted and ready for bed…well, naps interspersed with jams and ‘practice’.

The constant practice at base-camp drained a lot of energy, but there was so little time together nobody wanted to hang five. One of the things team Nica was excited about spotting today was the b-girls! There were more than 10, and the standard was high. Watching ladies bust out moves you have not yet mastered yourself never happened at home. To be fair, the other b-boys were also a push. Most of the other visitors do their best to live the b-boy lifestyle – dance 24/7, and make some money off it. Raw hip hop is thin on the ground in Nicaragua so this was the first time these boys have been exposed to such a massive dose of their own addiction.

21.11.09
The guys started out the day by taking part in workshops, with internationally renowned B-Boy Bebe (USA) dropping knowledge on battle techniques. Everyone was definitely concentrating, and stepped up their game from the very first throw-downs.

At 2pm the doors opened and the local hip hop community started flooding, getting ready for the Brazilian qualifying event. Circles (or cyphers) of dancers formed all over the huge hall, a reinvented rollerblading/skating space, and everywhere you looked there was someone busting a move. The local crews had a lot of supporters and the competition was so heated that the battles went on until nearly midnight, when everyone was so exhausted that the finals were rescheduled for the next day. Drained…but not so tired there wasn’t room for a little party, as the venue hosted a hip hop and house night. The boys learned how to rock, Brazilian style. Once again, there was a lot of action and very little sleep to be found.

22.11.09

The day of reckoning. After exhausting workshops with judges Mini-Mish (Israel) and Crazy Legs (US), president of the legendary Rock Steady Crew, the b-boys and b-girls prepared themselves for battle. The camp was a sea of caps, bandannas and elbow pads. It was hard to focus, between the newness of everything, the stress of competing and the overwhelming testosterone that was spilling out everywhere.
The ladies’ individual competition kicked off the day, with representation from Chile, Argentina, Venezuela, Uruguay, Brazil and the US. B-girl Cielo from Buenos Aires rocked out as the winner, throwing down style and power, clean footwork and solid blow-ups. The competition moved swiftly and both the Electro Break crew battle and Pasquier’s individual event flew by at the speed of light.

Argentinians, Rock and Trick took on Electro Break and stole the show with some flashy power combos. In the individuals, Pasquier had a tough draw and lost to Salo from Venezuela, who went on to the semi-finals. The level of competition was fierce. The crew finals, with Venezuela’s Flying Legs against the Brazilian Funk Fockers, was a heated battle that definitely boiled over several times before the home team claimed the title. Brazil came out with energy, humor, bravado and most importantly, a true sense of brotherhood and teamwork that ultimately dominated the day.

The night was all about celebration, the shedding of dance-floor attitudes and making of new friends. A few blocks from the venue was the corner bar, stormed by the international posse with the crowds spilling out onto the street. As the bottles of Bohemia beer were emptied, the smoke-pit of b-folk began unleashing their other talents; beatboxers busted rhythms for MCs while the smokers were tagging the block. Casco got creative with some drip pens and a camera, Pasquier let loose with some Nica freestyle rhymes, and the beat didn’t stop ‘til the break of dawn.

The final 48 hours were hectic with city filming and yet more practice with new friends. E-mail addresses were exchanged alongside trick techniques, dope poses were snapped, and memories were consolidated. The guys began to get excited about going home; it was the longest any of them had ever been away from their families, jobs, and gallo pinto! The event had been awe-inspiring, and after a taste of the international scene the guys were raring to bring new knowledge and experience back to the motherland. Plans were made for more events, classes and how to better unite the b-boy movement and raise both expectations and the national level.

Returning home, the B-Boys seemed empowered; having braved planes, funny food, Brazilian mosquitoes (bigger than Kanye West’s ego) and more, they left Brazil with a sense that they are now in the hip hop loop, recognized on a world scale. Full of ideas and refreshed motivation, they are ready to raise the bar for 2010. The documentary, which wrapped shooting in São Paulo and is now in post-production, is expected to be released later this year and aims to further raise the profile of b-boying in this country. New doors have been opened, new worlds explored, and new energies imported; for 2010 not even the sky, now conquered by airplane, is the limit.

SABADO 27 DE FEBRERO 9PM
HECHO presenta la edición 05 en la casa HECHO!!

100 Cordobas antes de las 11:00
despues de las 11:00 150

BARRA LIBRE – REVISTAS GRATIS Y MAXXX GRATIS
DJ’s Liquidiamond and Evan Rhodes

Dirección:
BOLONIA – de la iglesia San Francisco 1.5c al oeste. casa #1180

By Carlos Luis Mejía, Translation by Francisco Cedeño, Photography by Flor Marenco and Oliver Best

Masaya, Monimbó, folklore, Santo Domingo the hípicos (horse parades), and more, are all common things that come into the minds and hearts of Nicaraguans when we hear the unmistakable sound vibrations of the marimba.

Many people in this country have stereotyped this musical instrument as being exclusively related to Nicaraguan folklore. There are a few musicians however, who consider the marimba a special instrument able to adapt and mix with any musical genre, from electronic to jazz and even rock music.

One example of this is the outstanding Nicaraguan band Momotombo, who has recently been experimenting with a new sound: the Morolique, which uses loops and snippets of typical Nica songs mixed with spacey sounds and electro beats. There is also Tamuga, which has gone to great lengths to share their unique acoustic mixture of folklore and funk. And the latest is La Cuneta Son Machin, a band that combines cumbia, rock and traditional marimba sounds. All these bands and more have made the people jump up and take notice of what is possible with this traditional instrument and sound.

Internationally there are numerous other bands doing innovative things with the marimba, such as Zafri Duo or Molotov with their song “Gimme the Power.” Jazz musicians have also used the vibraphone or the xylophone (both close relatives of the marimba) for many years.

But, what is its origin?
The origin of the marimba is still under discussion. There are two prominent theories, one traces the origin back to African xylophones before the 14th century, but other evidence has shown similar instruments were found in Asia in the 9th century. It is thought that the first xylophones to exist in Central America were brought over from Africa, where the instrument then evolved into the marimba. At its inception, the marimba was a group of different sized wooden bars mounted on a frame that were struck to produce rhythms. Overtime it has evolved to become an instrument, at the same time, both melodic and percussive.

The bow marimba is the earliest marimba on record in Central America. It is a diatonic instrument. To use the piano as a reference, it is like having only the white keys. A marimba is made with a wooden frame on which rests a thick row of keys. A very flexible and resilient arc connects the two ends of the instrument.

Instrument capable of adapting and mixing
Maria Jose Silva, better known as Mache Ocarina, a talented young marimba player from Masaya who started playing the instrument about 20 years ago, says that the desire to make something different and the global influence on younger generations of musicians has allowed an evolution of the marimba as well as the way it is played. “Although the bow marimba sound has a limitation by not having the intermediate notes between each note, you can do wonders. I’m composing songs that aren’t within the folkloric and traditional music scheme. Even with folkloric songs, you can make adaptations completely different.”

Those who are proud to be part of this culture and history, enjoy the sound and smell of the woods that ring out in the Rubén Darío Theater, in Managua night bars, cultural events, weddings, first communions and all sorts of celebrations.

Singing woods
Elizabeth Gallo, director of the Flavio Galo School of Marimba, created by the Galo family of great musicians, says that they teach the dual keyboard marimba because in Nicaragua it was being forgotten by a younger generation. However now she says many young people, especially women, are very interested in learning this instrument. “I feel that we have provided an important grain of sand to Nicaraguan culture in the labor of rescue of this marimba. Many young people who studied here, now include the marimba in their musical groups or in other similar activities.”
Not only have the greatest Nicaraguan composers and songwriters, such as Victor M. Leiva, Otto de la Rocha, Los Mejia Godoy and the recently deceased Camilo Zapata, used the marimba in their concerts and recordings, so do the new generation of songwriters: Moisés Gadea, Katia Cardenal, Ofilio Picon and Camerata Bach, who accompanied the marimba with violins, violas and cellos to record the album “Singing Woods,” a collection of Nicaraguan and Latin American songs.

Adversity
It seems adversity precedes the marimba’s evolution. Despite the dedication of a few, such as the Flavio Galo School, the lack of investment in the country to preserve cultural heritage has led to a lack of formal training to learn the marimba and its history, thus impeding the professionalization of the instrument. However, for marimba players the fight will not stop, they will not faint nor be ashamed to carry on their backs this instrument that fills them with great pride and represents their roots and culture.

The marimba has gone on from being an instrument exclusive to the indigenous community to become a national pride. It has played the sounds of the earth, the international hits and songs of the classical repertoire. It has sounded in the cornfield and in the concert hall. Most importantly, it hasn’t stopped playing all this time, it has remained the sound that fills the streets and the celebrations.