I’m an unofficial athlete and one of the things I observed when I first arrived in Nicaragua was the lack of organized sports for girls and women. There were plenty of sports events to attend: soccer, baseball, basketball. But it was always men playing. I was informed that soccer and volleyball were offered to girls in the local schools, but I wondered when they actually played because I never saw it.

As a response to this observation, one of my own personal projects here in Camoapa has been to start a girl’s softball league in an attempt to close this gap. I began talking about the idea to whoever would listen and it turned out that despite the fact that most people here consider it to be a “boy’s sport,” I still managed to round up quite a bit of support from the movers and shakers in town.

There was a surge of interest up front. In total, I had more than 30 girls (and some women) show up to the various practices I scheduled. But after only a few weeks, the number who returned on a regular basis dwindled to less than 10. There is a handful more that comes every now and again, but it’s not enough to sustain a real team. There have even been days when more boys than girls show up, hoping to get in on the action. It has been incredibly frustrating.

In reference to this lack of attendance, I overheard my softball training partner (who is male) say in conversation, “You know, girls are always harder to work with.” My instinct was to feel slightly offended and my intention was to talk with him later about what he really meant. But after thinking on it a bit, I realized he was right. It’s not that girls are inherently harder to work with. But here in Nicaragua, the culture demands that the muchacha help out in the home on a regular basis. They have more responsibility, more demands are placed on them, and they are generally more protected by their families for fear that they might turn up pregnant. They are less likely to be given the opportunity to participate in things like sports and even more unlikely to be given permission to play a sport that is traditionally considered “boys only.”

I have had some success visiting with families, asking permission to allow their daughters a few hours a week of freedom. But some of the girls tell me that even a home visit wouldn’t be enough. So in some respects, I am back at square one. It is hard to know where to go from here, because it feels as though I am fighting a whole country. I haven’t given up hope, but I am running out of ideas…