The Little Icebox that Could

One of the goals of this adventure in Nicaragua was to assist the Casa Materna in establishing a small business to help them gather funds to send laboring women to the hopsital in taxis. As far as a business plan goes, this business would seem as complex as setting up a lemonade stand. Easy...buy one refirgerator (icebox in Miskito), buy many pounds of sugar, some fresh fruits, mix them up in buckets, store in aformentioned fridge, sell to the public...voila! The only problem is that this lemonade stand is in Nicaragua...and as I have come to learn, nothing is as easy as it seems here. I know I elaborated a bit on my struggles trying to purchase the fridge before: various trips to El Gallo mas Gallo, a blue and yellow facade that has become so familiar to me I could probably arrive at it sleepwalking; my battles with the credit card machine, and my frustration with the sheer lack of customer service required to don the yellow polo shirt and blue pants of an El Gallo employee. Well, a few weeks ago I acomplished the unthinkable... I bought the fridge. I felt like a super power, or some exotic bird puffing my chest out and wagging my tail feathers with success. I mounted the blue flatbed truck that would deliver my shining white pride to the Casa Materna, all the while ensuring that the delivery boys did not lay her on her side thus destroying the cooling mechanism. I circled the machine as they laid it down on the cement floor of the Casa. She was beautiful: a classic freezer on top, fridge on bottom model...white-white, and the cool air would just pour out of the freezer when you opened her door, exposing her to the heat and humidity of Port.

The day after the purchase I did what only any right minded Nicaraguan would do. I went to buy locks to put on my fridge. Obviously you cant just give anyone access to the fridge, otherwise she would stand empty, sad, in the corner. So Cody and I headed to the Casa Materna with two hinged closures, two locks, several screws, and a drill. The first drill hole went in smooth as ice. My success was growing by the minute...soon we would have the fridge and it would be on lock down. The next two holes didnt seem to go as deeply...it was impossible to put the screw through. I poked around a bit with the drill bit and said to Cody "it seems like there´s something there...you just need to drill in a bit more" he said "are you sure you want me to drill in more" and I said "definately...go for it!". Within 4 seconds the hole was drilled and a forceful stream of Frion emerged from the hole until my poor, beuatiful fridge was sucked dry of life. I was in a panic...was it possible that just 12 hours after finally purchasing this machine that it was dead? what could I do, who could help me? This sentiment ended in a long string of disinterested repair men who have left my ice box half functioning...but better than dead. First there was the old school sandanist, fidel castro-esque hippie who came to fix my fridge. rather than patching the hole and refilling the tubes he decided to cut the line and build a new system behind it. so confident was he in his work that after quoting me an exoribtant gringo price to fix the fridge he did not charge me for the work. I returned to the casa the next morning to find the fridge hot and bothered. This repairman returned the next day with a young man that we will refer to as the "welder". He repaired the work of the first repairman...again not charging me. Then there was the chubby, metal head that took one look at the work and never came back. Lastly was the "contractor". He assured me a working fridge and an under the table situation in which he would certify the work so that I could still use the 5 year additional warranty that I had bought with the fridge which was rendered nul after piercing the tubing with the drill. It was a deal too good to be true...1000 cordobas and five days later the work was never done. After a wild goose chase the money is back in hand, but my fridge will never be her glorious, chilling, original self.

So...as of today, the fridge is working...kind of. If the freezer isnt opend for two full days everything fully freezes. The fridge will keep frozen stuff cold. The women all tell me that they like their boli more luck slush than frozen solid anyway...maybe its for the better! As far as the business side of it goes we are selling boli, and frescos, and cold water (rather than ice) to the community and the women at the Casa Materna. We have made over 500 cordobas, and have re-invested three times to purchase pounds of sugar and nancite fruits to make more fresco and boli. I guess all-in-all its working; working as well as any business could possibly work here in puerto cabezas. We have officially sent three laboring women to the hospital with money from the business. Given everything I would call it a success. As for my little icebox...I hope she keeps on chugging along...she has a strong spirit. And I blame her loss of frion not on me, or Cody, but on Nicaragua...a country in which its necessary to put a lock on a fridge.