Nicaragua

…But now that you are free Nicaragüita, now I love you even more…
Carlos Mejía Godoy

The city of Granada, one of the oldest colonial cities in Central America, has developed enormously in recent years with regard to tourism.
However, the number of families who suffer from poverty has not decreased; on contrary the gap between rich and poor has become bigger and much deeper. The expansion of tourism has led to a large increase in housing prices in the city center. In consequence many families, who are in bad economic situations, were ousted from the city to the outlying districts. These neighborhoods often do not even have the most minimal basic services, which define a life in dignity and a decent quality of life.

Because of that in the middle of this so-called economic boom, million Nicaraguans are forced into poverty. In search of better living conditions and better working opportunities many Nicaraguans are put at risk, to leave Nicaragua in a neighboring country illegally.

In the song “Casas de carton” the singer Marco Antonio Solís, describes the daily life of millions of people in Central American regions exactly to the point:

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How sad, the rain is heard
On the cardboard roofs
How sadly my people live
In the cardboard houses.
The worker comes descending,
Almost dragging his footsteps
For the weight of suffering
Look how much is the suffering
Look how much the suffering weighs
He leaves the pregnant woman above
The city is below,
And he loses himself in its tangle.
Today is the same as yesterday
It’s a world without tomorrow.
How sad, the rain is heard
On the cardboard roofs.
How sadly my people live
In the cardboard houses
Children the color of my land
With the same scars
Millionaires of worms, and
Therefore how sadly the children live
In the cardboard houses.
How sad, the rain is heard
On the cardboard roofs.
How sadly my people live
In the cardboard houses.
You’re not going to believe
But there are schools for dogs
And they give them education
So they don’t bite the newsboys
But the boss
For years, many years
He is biting the worker.
How sad, the rain is heard
On the cardboard roofs.
How far away, passes a hope
In the cardboard houses

Marco Antonio Solís