Between 2009 and 2010 I lived in the highlands of Northern Nicaragua, exploring the collective memory of those involved in the US-backed Contra war that occurred in the 80s. Every other weekend, I would take a three hour bus ride to the city of Jinotega to access electricity and stock up on supplies. Parades were a constant occurrence in Jinotega. On Sunday morning, like clockwork, firecrackers would rocket outside my window. Drums, trumpets, and tubas echoed in the distance and elaborate processions filled the cobblestone streets, winding through the city. The stars were invariably children or teenagers, dressed up, adorned, isolated, and assuming the roles they had been designated to play.
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