The Nica Diaries - Excerpt

4/12/86
Saturday

We’re still in Managua, the charla with the economist fell through, so a bunch of us just went out for frescos instead. Vick, one of the guys in our group, started feeling sick. I’m one of the more fluent members of our group so I and another NICA student who is studying medicine but doesn’t speak much Spanish took him to the hospital. Turns out Vick was suffering from acute dehydration and was having some medical complications because of it. The service at the hospital was ridiculously fast and efficient, despite the obvious lack of medical equipment or adequate facilities, not to mention medication which is also scarce here. Vick had to stay at the hospital for observation so we left him there and we’ll send someone else from the school to pick him up in a few hours.

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Last night at Lobo Jacks I talked to a lot of people. Many of us have reached a point in this journey where we are understanding that it’s time to move past learning the truth, it’s time to start acting on it. I believe that truth compels us to act.

I’m so much more in tune with human beings down here. Talking to the internationalists, hearing about their work, I realize that I spend a lot of time in my head exploring ideas, looking for black and white truths instead of acting. Just communicating with other people can teach us as much about life as great philosophy books - not to diminish those great works but ideas should be utilized, they shouldn’t just rot in your head like uneaten fruit on a vine. I need to find a way to actualize my beliefs and I feel an urgency to do it now. I have to stop being stupid, thinking that planting tomatoes on an agricultural cooperative is going to make any great change in people’s lives. It probably only made a difference in mine.

I’ve been offered a teaching job in the mountains just north of Esteli. It’s dangerous territory because the closer you get to Honduras, the closer you get to the fighting but the children there have been in desperate need of a teacher for a while; there is a shortage of teachers, too. I’m considering it. I could be happy here. I’ve fallen in love with this country and these people despite the poverty and the hardship.

I still remember my first night, scooping newspaper out of a filthy toilet with my hand for fear of clogging up the whole neighborhood’s plumbing. Hearing the roosters crow in the middle of the night, being exposed to third world living conditions for the first time in my life, finding out that it wasn’t uncommon for people to live in shacks poorly boarded up with little or no plumbing. I remember my first week, getting used to the unexpected water shortages, seeing people riding horses down the streets right next to cars, getting used to not having a refrigerator or washing machine, learning to use a scrub board, learning to take cold water bucket baths, learning to tuck mosquito netting so the little suckers couldn’t sneak in under the net, learning what it means to be Nicaraguan. God, I love this place.

I love my own country too, and I miss home - my mom and dad, Bruce, my friends, my band… and there are things to be done there, too. I could also make a difference there, it’s just not as easy to see what needs to be done. There are children who need a bilingual teacher like me in Los Angeles and there is a shortage of them, but I can’t abandon Nicaragua. I don’t know what to do…

Meeting the Comandante

Working on my second book, here’s an excerpt.

4/6/86
Sunday

Today started off a lazy day, playing cards at a neighbor’s house. When I got home, I found that Francie had company. She had a friend over, Comandante Gladys Baez of the Sandinista armed forces, a short woman with indigenous features who wore her hair in braids. She looked more like someone getting ready to bake a batch of cookies than lead an army. She was really warm and friendly and kissed me on the cheek when she met me.

Comandante Baez insisted that I call her Gladys and seemed surprised when Francie said I was American. Gladys complimented me on my Spanish and Francie agreed, saying I acted, looked and spoke like a Nica which I know she meant as a big compliment. I took it as one. We sat down in the living room to talk. Gladys asked me about life in the United States and what people in the U.S. thought of the war between the Contras and Sandinistas. I sadly confirmed the things she already knew, that Reagan was on a campaign to change public opinion of the counterrevolutionary Contras by talking them up as patriots who are protecting us from the spread of communism and by refusing to use the word Contra and employing instead the sympathetic sounding name “Freedom Fighters” when referring to them. I told her that it was working, furthermore, they were now being described as advisors rather than combatants, something that the Nicaraguans knew was a blatant lie.

Gladys moved on from the topic of Reagan and asked me about women in my country. That was hard for me to talk about, it seems that the death of the Equal Rights Amendment has stalled any progress for the women’s movement. I don’t understand what happened with the ERA and I can’t explain it to her, I guess I’m just too far removed from the mainstream. I told her I was involved in music and that my musician friends were generally open-minded about politics and women’s rights. I said that the kind of music I play has been liberating for women because it’s more about having something to say than being a great musician, so women, even those who were novice musicians, were not intimidated or shut out due to lack of experience. She was happy to hear that more women were playing music and writing songs and encouraged me to write a song about Nicaragua and share the experiences I was having here with my friends back home. She didn’t seem much older than me but she took on a motherly tone as she reminded me that there is no revolution without equality for women. I’d never heard anyone say this before, despite the fact that it seemed like such a simple and obvious truth.

Later, when Gladys had left, I had to ask Francie again if I had heard correctly. Was Gladys really a Comandante? I guess if I tried hard I could imagine her as a guerrilla but a Comandante? She didn’t look or act like a warrior, much less a Commander. I couldn’t imagine her bossing the men around. She looked like so many women in East L.A., ordinary working class moms and tias. My Nicaraguan mother assured me that Gladys was one of the first and most respected Sandinista Comandantes. She laughed at me and asked why I doubted her. I said that I didn’t think Gladys looked strong enough to be taken seriously as a comandante.

"Why don’t you think she’s strong?" Francie asked.

I was too ashamed to say it was because I expected muscles and a snazzy uniform; inwardly, I had to admit that I expected a man. I had never seen a woman who looked like Gladys have any power. In my world, women who looked like Gladys took care of kids, did housework, warmed up tortillas. I glimpsed myself, just for a second in all my sexist, racist and colorist ugliness and I quickly stepped away from the mirror.

"Oh, I don’t know," I lied.

Francie knows what I’m thinking, I thought. Please don’t let her call me out…please don’t let her call me out. She didn’t. She cocked her head, looked up at me and gave me a quizzical smirk.

"Es MUY fuerte," my Nicaraguan mother assured me. "She fought alongside (FSLN founder) Carlos Fonseca."

Francie went on to tell me a little about what she and Gladys had done together. They were pioneers in AMNLAE (Association de Mujeres Nicaragüenses, Luisa Amanda Espinoza) an organization which is named after the first female casualty in the war against Somoza. Espinoza escaped a life of poverty and abuse to become a revolutionary. Originally the organization was to uphold the needs and concerns of women who were fighting to overthrow Somoza, now it is dedicated to increasing the political participation of women in post-revolutionary Nicaragua. Francie and Gladys were not only active members, they were founding members.

"Gladys herself was tortured by Somoza’s Guardia," Francie continued. "She was captured by Somoza and held prisoner, where she was subjected to torture and interrogation, spending over two months in solitary confinement, she never broke down."

I imagine this braided woman in an interrogation room, bright lights shining in her face, electrodes shocking her as she refuses to talk. Sweat runs down her lovely weather-worn face, where a look of strength and resolve are carved deeper than Mt. Rushmore. Unexpectedly, a man and some snotty nosed kids look into the interrogation room.

"Gladys, we need some warm tortillas," they call to her.

"Heat your own damn tortillas!" she replies. "Can’t you see I’m busy?"

Alice Bag Olympia Power and Light Interview

This article originally appeared in an abbreviated version in the Olympia Power and Light in October, 2011. This is a repost of the full interview, which appears here.

All B/W photos by Louis Jacinto.

Tuck Petertil: It seems that we live in interesting times, as the economy buckles and fascism is on the rise, are you an optimist or a pessimist about the future?

Alice: I am extremely optimistic. I’ve been following the protestors who are occupying Wall Street and I have a renewed faith in democracy. Americans have been complacent for a long time because a large number of us were comfortable. It wasn’t until huge numbers of people starting losing their jobs and homes that reality started to break through their placid stupor. Those people camping out at Liberty Square, they’re the true champions of democracy. I think the protests will continue to grow.

Tuck: Do you have advice to young people facing this uncertain future?

Alice: Uncertainty doesn’t have to be scary, it’s all a matter perception and adaptability. If your plans don’t work out, it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The unknown can be exciting and full of opportunity but you have to be involved and you have to be able to evolve.

Tuck: I’ve only read excerpts of “Violence Girl”, but it’s an impressive life you’ve led. Up here in the Pacific NW we’re just entering the fall and winter months, a time that can be pretty depressing. No doubt you faced many obstacles in your life, what gave you the strength to keep on in the face of opposition?

Alice: If I lived in the Pacific NW full spectrum lighting would be my first investment. My body needs sunlight. When I was little my dad used to tell me, “You can be anything you want to be.” I believed him. Even when I learned that society expects very little from a poor girl from East L.A., I refused to accept the limits that other people tried to place on me. It’s not that I don’t have weaknesses. I’m better at some things than I am at others but I never let insecurity stop me from doing what I want do. I am not a perfectionist, I believe that my best is good enough. If you believe that your best is good enough, you will find happiness.

 

Tuck: How did The Bags all hook-up? Who was in the Bags and where are they now?

Alice: My friend Patricia and I wanted to have an all girl band when we were in high school but our efforts were constantly thwarted because at that time, there weren’t as many women musicians as there are today. We put an ad in the paper seeking female musicians and men answered. Eventually we ended up hiring guys to play with us. We decided to play while wearing brown paper market bags on our heads with the eyes, nose and mouth cut out. The bag masks were just for fun, they gave us a certain anonymity that was somewhat liberating. We also had the opportunity to decorate our masks in ways that helped us play with our stage personas. The first Bags lineup was Patricia Rainone (Morrison/Vanian), Geza X, Joe Nanini, Janet Koontz and me. Patricia is now married to Dave Vanian and lives in England, Geza X is a record producer, I have lost touch with Janet over the years so I don’t know what she is up to, Joe Nanini went on to Wall of Voodoo and later passed away and I live in Sedona with my husband and daughter. The Bags had a rotating lineup of musicians but the one most people know from our Dangerhouse record is Patricia, Craig Lee (RIP), Rob Ritter (RIP), Terry Graham (later with Gun Club) and me.

Tuck: What were some of your influences (literary, music etc..) that put you on the path you choose?

Alice: when I was very young my dad listened to a lot of Mexican music, specifically rancheras. My sister listened to soul music. Those two genres seeped into my blood. I have a deep connection to that music. Later, when I was a teen I started listening to glam/glitter rock, Bowie, Elton John, Roxy Music, Queen, stuff like that. Suddenly out of nowhere the Ramones appeared. The Ramones were in a class by themselves. When they came out people laughed at them. Rock with no solos, imagine that! But their influence was huge and Patti Smith, wow, she was the most amazing performer, she inspired me tremendously! As for literature I grew up with comic books: Hot Stuff, The Archies, Little Lotta, Richie Rich, Mexican comics and fotonovelas. I go to the library at least once a week, I have for years. I am not a picky reader but I do get in my moods where I favor one type of book over another. I’m a big fan of Dickens, Bukowski and I adore Ozamu Tezuka. There are too many wonderful authors for me to list here but I have a Goodreads account for anyone who wants to compare books with me.

Tuck: What music are you currently liking?

Alice: I like Girl in a Coma, Amanda Palmer (with or without the Dresden Dolls), Gossip, Lysa Flores and I enjoy watching Lady Gaga’s many transformations.

Tuck: Besides your new book and your great website and blog, what other cool things are going on in Alice Bag's world?

Alice: I’ve been keeping up with the exploits of Anonymous, I like their spirit! If you visited my world there would be lots of pastries there. I love to bake, I’m trying to master the French macaron but I can’t get the texture just right. I took a pastry series at a local culinary school and I don’t want to forget what I learned so I bake every chance I get.

Tuck: Have you been to Olympia before? If so any thoughts about our town? Where does this tour take you?

Alice: I have never been to Olympia. I love experiencing new places so I’m really looking forward to it! I am still booking the tour so I don’t know where I’ll end up. Hopefully Olympians will like me and invite me back. I’ve never been to Canada, I wouldn’t mind going to Vancouver next time I’m in the neighborhood.

Tuck: Tell me about your future plans; i.e. Any new recordings or books in the offing?

Alice: Artifix Records is planning to release a limited edition promotional EP to coincide with Violence Girl. It features one Bags song as well as a small sampling of some of my other bands, from Las Tres to Castration Squad and Cholita. My only plans right now are to promote the book and to enjoy the journey. I have to balance that with making time to nurture my family and my relationships, while at the same time keeping an eye on my government to make sure they start paying attention to my welfare instead of protecting corporate interests. Oh, and I have to work on my French Macaron! That’s all.

Tuck: Would you like to tell one story about the punk scene or Managua?

Alice: How about a page from my Nicaraguan diary?

Wednesday, 4-2-86 It’s 6:30 in the morning. This is my third day here in Nicaragua. On Monday night we arrived in Managua and yesterday we came here. This is truly a new experience for me. I suffered from serious culture shock on Monday night. The Nicaraguan lifestyle is hardly imaginable to us in the United States. You really have to experience it to be able to even begin to understand it. For example, sanitary facilities are minimal and there is scarcity in just about everything. On Monday night we stayed in the hospedaje (hostel). I was very surprised to find that there were only two glasses available for everyone in the hostel to drink water from and they were barely rinsed between users (I later found that one glass was for washing and not drinking). Water for showers in the particular area of Managua where we were staying is turned off two days a week (Mondays and Thursdays) in an effort to conserve it. There is no toilet paper to be found anywhere or at any price. Scraps of La Prensa, (the opposition newspaper) usually end up replacing it in the bathroom. Toilets are as I imagined (seatless or outhouses), as are showers (cold but bearable).

Despite these things and many other inconveniences of living with people at this level of poverty, I love being here. It’s not that big a deal to have to do without the luxuries (not necessities) we have back home. It’s been a while since I felt this alive, this involved. I met my family last night. My Nicaraguan mother is a former guerilla; a strong, well-informed, admirable woman. I talked for hours with her last night. Her life has been hard but she has been so much a part of her people’s history. Because my Nicaraguan family (mom and 5 daughters) been has been so integrated (as they say here) in the revolutionary and post-revolutionary movements they are a rich source of history and information. The house I am living in now was taken over by some important revolutionary heroes a few years back and used as a Sandinista headquarters as well as living quarters. My Nicaraguan mother has been interviewed extensively by reporters from all over the world because of her strong contributions to the revolution. She was a founding member of several important post revolutionary organizations including organizations which provide for those who have been injured in the war and organizations which support women’s struggles such as AMNLAE (Asociacion de Mujeres Nicaraguenses, Luisa Amanda Epinoza). My Nicaraguan sisters are beautiful, intelligent children whom I like very much already.

I am on an adventure and I love it!