The Scruffy Dog Review Interview

Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers.
Rainer Maria Rilke


Many times I’ve been on the interviewing end, asking writers what I hope were provocative questions. But ever since the publication of Bernardo and the Virgin, I’ve had the opportunity to sit in the other chair. I have to say that it’s a lot of fun. What can be more exciting than talking about one’s obsessions, and presumably for a readership that interested in what one has to say?

I want to thank Brenda Birch of The Scruffy Dog Review for her thoughtful questions and for allowing me be part of this new and exciting literary magazine.

Below are a couple of questions and the replies I gave.

Your portrayal of Nicaragua as a country rich in cultural and religious communities conflicts with much of the world view of this country as being impoverished and underdeveloped. Tell us about the Nicaragua you know.

The Nicaragua I know and love beyond words can make you burst out laughing one minute, and then break your heart the next. Its history is a stark documentation of human suffering: revolutions, civil wars, foreign interventions, earthquakes, and hurricanes are but a few tragedies that have devastated the country during the last forty years alone. Add to that blatant political corruption, fifty percent unemployment, fifty percent illiteracy, a high infant mortality rate, and hunger. The effects are clearly visible in the lives and the faces of the poor.

Still, in spite of hardships that would break the spirit of the hardiest, Nicaraguans are compassionate, good humored and fun-loving people. The overwhelming majority are so generous that they’ll give you the shirt off their backs if they thought you were in need. What’s more, poverty has obligated them to become creative—as you travel about the country you’ll see the many ingenious ways in which they solve simple, daily problems. And although history has dealt them terrible cards, their faith in God—and la Virgen—is astounding. This has made Nicaragua’s human landscape, its culture, an extremely fertile place in which to mine beautiful, touching stories

Because of professional reasons, my wife and I live in Panama—a country that has been blessed with the healthiest economy in the region and has never experienced a serious natural disaster, a revolution, or a civil war. (My wife calls Panama “Latin America Lite.”) And although we’re happy here, we miss Nicaragua terribly. Nicaragua’s a marvelous place—the best kept secret in Latin America, I believe. I urge everyone to visit (and while you’re there make a pilgrimage to Cuapa, an unforgettable experience). But not everyone could adjust to living there. As my wife often says to people who want to know more about the country: “Nicaragua isn’t for sissies, but it’s got a lot of soul.”

Tell us a bit about your next book, The Saint of Santa Fe. When will it be available?

Actually, Elaine is shopping around my second novel, Meet Me Under the Ceiba. This work is based on an incident that took place in Nicaragua while I was writing Bernardo. It deals with the murder of a woman. I followed the press coverage and found her death a tragic, entangled mess—worthy of a novel. After finishing Bernardo I spoke to the victim’s sister and after only one interview I had the foundation of the story.

The Saint of Santa Fe is based on the disappearance—and certain death—of Father Hector Gallego, a Colombian priest who came to Panama in the late 1960s to work among the rural poor in Santa Fe de Veraguas, which was then an isolated mountain town. When he got there he encountered a feudal society where peasants lived as indentured servants, heavily indebted to the region’s cacique (the Latin American equivalent of Feudal Lord). Father Gallego helped liberate the campesinos in a constructive, non-violent fashion. He had once written in a church bulletin that he tried to model himself after the examples of Jesus, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King. But he paid for the changes he promoted with his life. His remains have yet to be found because those responsible for his abduction erected a wall of silence and were protected by Omar Torrijos, Panama’s dictator at the time who, along with the infamous Manuel Noriega, was directly involved. It’s a sad yet inspiring story. Every Panamanian is familiar with Hector Gallego’s sacrifice, and many believe that he was a saint. The final draft of The Saint of Santa Fe should be ready by October.

Now, the appearance of my next two novels depends on circumstances that are beyond my control. Publishing is a fickle business. Because of this, I choose instead to concentrate on my greatest obligation—which is to write, and write well.

The entire interview can be read at The Scruffy Dog Review.