Nicaragua: Blunt Objects

Bluntness would seem to come naturally to Nicaraguans.  I once heard, on a bus, a passenger call out, “Hey, piggy,” to a plump vendor, who turned around unscathed and politely attended the customer.  Frank nicknames (apodos) are the norm and tend to completely replace one’s real name.  Baldy (Pelon), Fatty (Gordo), Shorty (Chaparro), and Big-Eared (Orejon) are such common nicknames that people normally have more than one friend that is referred to by the same apodo. (“I talked to the Big-Eared one.” “Which one? Ronald?” “No, man, Franklin.”) In the US, such nicknames, when used to address the person the nickname refers to, would result in either a severe reprimand, a lawsuit, or a beating (depending on the situation). But in Nicaragua, nicknames don’t seem to bother anyone.

So, based on these examples, a person might assume that Nicaraguans are inherently more crass and open than Americans.  I believe they are in terms of physical appearances.  I mean, social norms in the United States strictly prohibit using physical “flaws” as descriptors in public settings.  Just think of those situations when you are describing a common workplace acquaintance whose name you do not know or cannot remember.  The obvious strategy to get the others to realize who you are referring to would be to list the acquaintance’s most striking and distinguishing characteristics.  The problem is that distinguishing characteristics, when viewed as flaws, are taboo in American society.  You cannot say, “I am talking about the fat guy,” because it is viewed as insensitive and insulting.  So, people tend to go for the beat-around-the-bush strategy.  The, “Oh, the one who always listens to Sinatra. Oh, the one who likes to wear blue,” strategy.  Once it is clear that nobody knows who you are talking about, you drop the sensitivity act and say (displaying the appropriate amount of frustration at having to stoop so low), “You know…the fat guy.”  “Oh yeah! Ted!”

In the United States, this tendency towards non-judgment, this abhorrence of discrimination based on physical attributes, became the political correctness movement.  A movement of compassionate judges and executioners, eager to crucify one in the name of the few.  Inevitably, as the PC movement has become more entrenched in American society, it has engendered a counter-movement.  This counter-movement is characterized by people making shocking and uncouth remarks in a deliberate attempt to offend others, with the ultimate goal of mocking the oversensitivity (and perceived hypocrisy) of the PC movement.  Essentially, they say the unsayable, because they know they aren’t supposed to say it, and those offended know that they know that they aren’t supposed to say it.  It’s an easy way to be the “cool rebel,” challenging authority.  Examples of this counter-movement in American popular culture abound; from right-wing shock-jock talk radio stars (Rush Limbaugh), to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, to Sasha Baron Cohen. (You’ll notice it also spans the ideological spectrum.)  More importantly, you see it in every day life, in educated friends who spout off sexist clichés for the sake of irony (supposedly lampooning both people who really are sexist, and people who don’t get the irony).

Lately, the counter-movement has seemed to overpower its foe, placing it in the curious and unsustainable position of being the counterweight to nothing.  Movements who reach power by simply being against something (instead of being for something) tend to lead to undesirable outcomes (sometimes more undesirable than the original status-quo that was being rebelled against).  In this case, the result has been a culture of both phony niceties in public, and vicious discrimination in private.  In other words, the worst of both worlds.

While in Nicaragua, the guy with the large noticeable mole on his face is probably nicknamed Mole, and probably has had that nickname since birth.  The nickname has probably replaced his real name.  And the physical flaw has, thus, been accepted in its own way; as something that makes this person distinct.  All the drawbacks of this distinguishing feature (in other words, all the drawbacks of having a unattractive physical characteristic) still exist: he probably isn’t going to be male model, he probably will have a harder time getting laid, ect.  But with his friends, co-workers, family, and community, the mole is normal.  People call him Mole, because nobody else has a huge mole on his face.  It is what it is.

In the United States, the mole is never acknowledged in public.  People who interact with him, nervously look one way or another, desperately trying to avoid looking straight at it.  All they think about is the mole and how they aren’t supposed to be thinking about the mole.  In private, behind closed doors, the man is known as “the mole guy.”  When friends get together, everyone merrily and maliciously rips into the guy (“Why doesn’t he do something about it?! Surgery or something.” “Oh, you are so bad!”); they overcompensate, frustrated by their own self-censorship in public.  The mole guy, meanwhile, is constantly reminded of his “flaw” through the uncomfortable interactions, the shifting eyes, the unbearable silence.  He knows what’s running through their heads.

To sum up and clarify, we are talking specifically about the differences between the United States and Nicaragua when discussing the issue of appearances.  Nicaraguans are far more blunt and, I am arguing, accepting.  Americans are more sensitive and, in my view, prejudiced.  (I am not arguing that Nicaraguans are more blunt in general.  It depends on the topic.  Americans are way more direct than Nicaraguans when it comes to issues of time or personal responsibility.  You will never hear a Nicaraguan say the words, “Can you get to the point?”)

This is all a prelude to my thoughts on the issue of race in Nicaragua.  Stay tuned.