Patrick Maxcy is an artist based in Ft. Lauderdale. He helped organize the murals at Dia de Luz 2009, alongside fellow artist Austin Blasingame.

I recently traveled to Nicaragua for the second time in my life. In one sentence my trip this year was "A new intense experience every day." This trip had more small moments that happened for me that interweave into the bigger picture of why I continually go. I stopped what I was doing more this trip and talked and enjoyed the moment with the people of La Chureca.

Day One: Home Means Love
Brought and planted plants for several families. The majority of the day was spent knocking on metal scraps, old Coca-Cola ads, cardboard, etc. each used as the families doors to their homes within the dump. I was in a group of five people as we were invited in. I felt a bit odd about entering their personal homes, but at each handmade house we were greeted with kindness. Over a dozen children followed us, jumped on us, hung on our backs, and took us house to house to plant small trees and plants. They were happy to show us their homes and share their stories of how they got there, how many kids they had, how long they've been there, etc.

Day Two: Hell's Gate
There was talk of myself and Austin Blasingame painting a mural at the entrance to the dump. And only four or five of us would even be allowed up there. Its referred to as "Hell's Gate," a long trash filled alleyway leading into the dump. Guarded by several adult males, tire fires, trash whirling in the air, needles, constant flow of garbage trucks filled to the brim with trash, and then us. We had this idea to bring light and color to La Chureca's entrance. To break down the fear that's always there at the gates.

The first ten minutes were very scary for me. Still not knowing still if I wanted to do this, for safety reasons and health reasons. We began cleaning the wall and then painting. My eyes squinted from black ash, my nostrils flared from the intense smoke. We painted and we were accepted with out fear. The most amazing moment for me up there was when the people who guard the entrance saw that we were trying to clean up the front and they began to do the same. They swept the streets, picked up trash, and hauled it away into the dump. Even though they live in trash, it is their home, and they take pride in it just as we do our own.

After several hours painting at Hell's Gates I wanted to go back into the dump to experience more interactions with the families. This year, I told myself I wanted to try and be part of the people's daily lives not just an outsider or gringo. I enjoyed the rest of the day playing with children, talking with several parents, I was even invited for dinner into one home. I kindly declined and enjoyed the rest of the day playing in the field with hundreds of loving kids!

Day Three: The Giant Coloring Book
I wanted to really paint this years continuation of the school wall... plans changed. I had this idea to make the wall more theirs. So I sketched out some ideas and then painted it. A large scale coloring book for the kids of La Chureca. Time was an issue this year (not enough of it). But this day was still one of my favorites.

"Grande Tortuga!" the kids shouted. I quickly painted a large scale turtle walking towards a little garden of bugs and insects. In the back ground a forest was painted. I carefully numbered the individual shapes, then numbered the paint containers. After that, several amazing friends helped the kids, taking turns, painting in the large paint-by-number coloring book! Yes, they painted out of the lines, but who cares. To paint on a wall that big for any kid is amazing! I loved helping them and watching them paint each color.


End of the Trip: Tired Yet Full of Love
So much more happened while we were there, but I can't name it all. The families of La Chureca gave me so much love and compassion. I always feel like they give me more then I can give them. We painted as much as we could, tried to share joy with individuals as much as we could, and spread love throughout La Chureca. It will always be a part of me and I never want to forget my experiences there.

Austin Blasingame is an artist based in Los Angeles. He helped organize the murals at Dia de Luz 2009, alongside fellow artist Patrick Maxcy.



"Hell's Gate" is the name given to the entrance of La Chureca, a trash dump community in Managua, Nicaragua. Passing through "Hell's Gate" is like entering a portal, everything in your mind goes blurry and it feels like time stands still. There is a telephone line, marking the entrance, hanging about 15 feet above ground, displaying burnt toys, shoes and junk. The visuals are unlike any place I have ever seen. There are numerous fires filling the air with smoke and ash, garbage piled high: medals, cow bones, plastics, and men that look like they have been at war for days; they are covered head to toe with miss-matched clothing, bandannas covering their faces, and spears - unapproachable. For a full year I had wild and mysterious thoughts about "Hell's Gate," and was eager to step foot back in.

Tuesday morning, 9:30. I am one of 11 packed in a mini-van, windows shut and conversation evaporating as we turn the corner to see the familiar fires and activity at the entrance of La Chureca, "Hell's Gate." I actively scout the grey surroundings, taking everything in, conditions of the walls, health risks, ten workers (five younger males and five older), all glancing towards our vans. I feel precarious, yet determined. I spot a wall, 100 feet long, every inch blackened by smoke and dirt.


Wednesday morning, 10:45. I am eager to get back to the wall after a long day of service inside the dump and only a few hours of sleep. Our group is large, and once again we are in mini-vans, only this time six of us exit the vehicles to set foot in "Hell's Gate." A middle aged worker, Luiz, is there to greet us. Brad Corrigan talks with him, takes my sketchbook and shows him the image I constructed, a montage of three stellar photos taken by photographers from the previous year, main image of worker shot by Luiz Maximiano. The local man seems to approve and moments later we are ushered into a cement factory, which exists on the other side of the enormous wall-none of us even had a clue it was there. The owner/manager reviews the sketch, asks us what our intentions are and after a few minutes of our broken Spanish, he approves. So far so good, Patrick Maxcy and I begin to brush the wall down, getting rid of 5 layers of soot and dirt. It is all happening so quickly, I can't believe it. I ask myself, "Is it really this simple, no harassment. Is it going be this smooth? No way." The workers (10) linger about 20 steps back. What is going through their minds?

Because of the raw conditions of the wall and lack of preparation on the surface I am resorting to spray paint-the only medium that has a chance of sticking to the surface in a timely manner. The first strokes are down, the wall barely taking the paint, as it fights years of scum. I haven't a clue to what move I am making next, other than creating some abstract design that feels appealing. It is a "speed problem"... an act of spontaneity. I pick out the three most vibrant colors of spray paint that I found at a local hardware store the night before (brands I had never seen or used) and just start going off. The color gives life to the wall, workers gather, some with looks of confusion, others screaming slang (can't understand,) while others sit and admire quietly on the opposing wall, all while our crew moves about in various directions just taking it all in. Dump trucks fly by, smoke from assorted tire fires fill my lungs and irritate my eyes; the wind is constantly arousing weightless material, paper and ash, which is building a black mass on my skin.

Two hours fly by and the owner of the wall offers to feed us a meal, amazing. Not only were we allowed to paint, spend time in the most anticipated part of La Chureca, "Hell's Gate," but we are being served food, what a blessing. I show every bit of appreciation by eating with dirty, gnarly hands and drinking what tastes like sweet water, out of plastic bags, kindly handed to each of us by Luiz. Lunch consists of rice, beans and chicken, hard to stomach after seeing dump trucks full of fleshy, scarlet cow skulls and kids gnawing on dumped, spoiled meat bones; None the less, I eat all the food. I am eager to get back to painting. Patrick decides he is done painting at lunch, so I am faced with the wall solo. The sun blasts my neck and legs as I continue to cover the dingy wall with bright pinks and oranges. We are getting constant encouragement from the workers and other Love Light and Melody members are having fun putting paint on the wall on the right side of Patrick's letters. I am noticing the workers are diligently cleaning all the trash up all around us, what a mind shift. To think a year ago we never would have even stopped a vehicle in this area, and here we are painting a wall and chilling with the workers of La Chureca. I finish off what I can on the wall then Matt Katsolis and Will Tant pull me aside to do an interview, potentially for the daily habit on Fuel TV.

Thursday 10:15am. I decide to execute my original plan right next to the mural done the previous day. My sketchbook had been passed around and talked about amongst the locals the day before. I sensed a feeling of anticipation from the workers to see the montage executed. The workers seem to be entertained by us and are acknowledging my efforts with smiles and nods. Today, "Hell's Gate," is the cleanest that I have ever seen it. I feel a sense of pride at arrival this morning. Luiz is happy to see us. He is covered in white paint facing the white, gleaming wall, sun directly overhead.

Jeff assists me with the grid lines (blue chalk hardly visible on the rough texture). The white part of the wall is 7 x 23 feet. We grid it out in 8 squares, two vertical by four across, then I go to town, with black and white in hand I lay down the skeleton for the mural. I am so focused mentally in order to put down correct shapes, proportionally accurate to the scale I am working that I forget where I am. I love this about art. I know I will not finish the piece, but I work right up until the concert at 2pm.

I feel like I accomplished my goal of breaking the tension at the gate and that is what means the most in my heart. I do want to finish the work I started and I hope to be back on a plane over there really soon!
Love one another and think positive!

Will Tant is a professional surfer and model who lives in New York City. He wrote this account of Dia de Luz 2008 for Surfline.

Some of my favorite lifetime memories came thanks to surfing. I can still recall the excitement of my first surfboard, my first trip to the North Shore, and my first boat trip in Indonesia. Now, our recent sojourn to Nicaragua will always be with me.

Cheyne Cottrell, Nathan Carroll and I spent a week searching for surf spots in this secluded land that, at first, we believed were just rumors. What we found on land and in the water surpassed all our expectations.

Offshore winds combined with virtually flawless swell lines and empty lineups to garner up "dream trip" status in all of our minds. Nathan easily conformed his surfing to every wave, once uttering, "this is one of the top three beach break sessions of my life." Cheyne approached the waves as he does life, with a grom-like enthusiasm and boldness. We found ourselves continually expressing our disbelief that we were the only ones surfing these amazing conditions.

But unlike the few who had walked this path before us, ours was not your typical surf trip. We found it difficult to search for perfect waves the entire time, knowing that there is something more important simultaneously taking place just inland of our memorable surfs.

There is a community of Nicaraguans who spend every day searching through trash to survive. They make their home in the Managua landfill, where mountains of burning waste pollute the air they breathe. Children and parents scour through the remnants of disposed goods, searching for something they can recycle for money, but often settling for cardboard to improve their homes or barely edible food to fill their stomachs. If they are fortunate enough, the children attend school within the landfill. Tragically though, many find themselves involved in drugs or prostitution instead.

As a reprieve from their harsh daily life, folk musician Braddigan along with his organization Love, Light and Melody orchestrated "Day of Light" for these families. For the second year, this unique humanitarian event drew hundreds of college students, artists, musicians and athletes together with the community for a day filled with joy and music. We helped to search for items of value in the trash, played soccer and flew kites with the children, and then hoisted them on our shoulders to hear Braddigan perform a full concert at the end of the day. While raising awareness of this heartbreaking situation, we left the day changed by the love and kindness of the Nicaraguans.

Though I will not forget the incredible surf of Nicaragua, my greatest memories were made during this "Day of Light." As I continue to travel the world surfing, I will forever remember the impact of the children who rarely have the opportunity to travel outside of the dump. They're the real reason I will return to this country time and again.

Austin Blasingame is an artist based in Los Angeles. He helped organize the murals at Dia de Luz 2008, alongside fellow artists Patrick Maxcy and Kelli Murray.

The group that arrived Monday, about 1/3 of us, roughly 25 people, gathered in the courtyard to share words. It felt like everyone was frozen for the first few minutes as Brad began greeting us and welcoming us to his home away from home. The tension eased with every word Brad spoke. A short time after, I was called upon to speak about the mural, which I had been invited on the trip to help create.

I spoke about my passion for the arts, and how Dia de Luz was about connecting with the local people, and not about a perfectly executed piece of work, how it was more important to make the kids feel that they were a part of the production, that their hands and minds would mold the mural, that street art is about being in the moment. Art changes, taking a different shape everyday. I talked about urban decay and the beauty it has in a community, layers that build over time, art getting covered up, new art taking over and leaving traces of old - a metaphor of life itself.

I jumped in the back of a truck with my camera. We flew down the streets of Managua, hitting several speed bumps and dodging huge pot holes, getting confused glances from traffic and commoners. The dump, La Chureca, was 8 or so miles from our hotel. The entrance was scary, 5 burnt teddy bears dangling from a telephone line like shoes in the US, small fires, middle aged men, faces covered with bandannas, with pitchfork- looking tools in their hands, picking through the garbage.

Trash got thicker, the smell of tires and rotting garbage grew exponentially as we continued into the dump. Egrets posed far off to the left, and vultures loomed well over the highest peaks of waste. Hot pink, teal, green and yellow colored plastics scattered the land. We passed by the first 20 or so piecemealed homes, each one less than 25 square feet and 5 feet tall, some with light bulbs dimmed, others with running water, but all surrounded by heaps of trash and smoke.

I caught eyes with some of the people, each seemed as if they were looking through me. I felt no acknowledgment, just blank looks on their faces as if they had seen a ghost and never been right since - numb, I felt. I could only relate it to the feelings I had while reading Stephen King's series, The Dark Tower - The Waste Lands. I felt like I was in the city of Lud, a place empty and foreign to my mind, yet intriguing.

The truck stopped all of the sudden and Brad jumped out. The rest of us sat waiting, wondering, each breath harder to take in. My lungs wanted to reject the smoke. A girl ran out of a barb wired metal home and jumped into Brad's arms - "Mercedita," he called out. Spanish flew back and forth. He stared into her eyes and I heard words but didn't understand what was being said. Tears welled up in my eyes. Her coffee-colored skin only peeked through the finger streaks which cut the black soot on her face. Her once bright clothing, now dulled and tattered, no longer fit, and her hair was matted, but she was beautiful, and all of us in the truck were frozen.

A naked boy waddled out shortly after, and Armistead jumped out of the truck to embrace him. "Rey," I heard him say. Following his lead, I felt the urge to get as far away from the truck as possible and close to Brad. The life was precious, the kids magnetic, dirty and smelly, yet extremely clean. Each of their eyes glossed over. It looked like a tear would drop at any moment, but it never did. Smiles emerged from all of us as we began to melt into this world, all reservations put aside. I was in total disbelief of what was in front of me and around me. As I threw Rey in the air and saw him smile, I melted. I repeated this action and squeezed him, the dirt leaving marks all over my white shirt. I was in, no longer on the outside - somehow I felt at that moment that I was part of this place.

A group of us wandered about 100 yards up a mountain of trash, a few people burning their shoes, even skin - pockets of hot ash and material went into flames all around us - combustion, chemicals and gases hidden under fresh dumped trash. At this point, the smell had overtaken the senses, and I felt me eyes tear. All I could think was, how can anyone live here. This was just the beginning.

The sun was going down quickly and we jumped back into the truck driving towards a school that sits a safe distance away from the meat of the dump. Several kids were curiously peeking out to see what we were doing as we roughly drove past, some smiled, others frowned. Animals were all over the place: cows, dogs, birds, chickens, all in horrible health. Emaciated cows stood eating plastic bags with snot strings stretching down to the ground. The truck stopped suddenly, Brian jumped out and took several photos of a dead pit bull lying like a stuffed animal amongst the trash with one leg hacked off- disturbing to say the least. The photos online from previous visits were brought to life, my senses overwhelmed, confusion and sadness took over as we retraced our tracks, exiting the same way we came in.

For the next 4 days I would enter the dump before the sun rose and leave after the sun set. Each visit was a different experience, each time I learned more about myself. I dug deeper within to understand why, how. I tried hard to connect with God and with everyone around me. Smiles and hugs: you couldn't give enough, and surely not receive enough in this place. There were times that I felt more at peace in the dump than anywhere I have ever been in my life. This disturbed me, but made me realize a lot about humanity.

As I look back on it now, I feel that I was forced to break myself down into the simplest form of life for that short time, which would have never happened at my lake front home with clean, heated, running water and nonstop media distractions. The face of advertising and all government corruption was exposed in these hours of enlightenment. My connection to nature - a disturbed nature - evil nature, made me sick, but I could see far off into the distance - beauty and hope, stars and light. Many times I felt helpless, I still do. These people need us and we need them. It is a balance of life - the reason we live, growing to be better people, to learn and live out our dreams to help the clouded mind be clear again and the darkened ground turn green.

KC Dewey is a friend of Love Light & Melody. These are her reflections on Dia de Luz 2008.

When entering what appears to be a war-zone it seems appropriate to enter with proper armor and protection. Love Light & Melody has learned however, that sometimes the most powerful weapons of protection are also the most surprising! This was most certainly the case for 2008's "Day of Light" celebration.

On March 6, 2008 a flood of people, music, and kites invaded the city landfill in Managua, Nicaragua, where nearly 1,500 people live, work, and make their homes. Love Light & Melody's second annual "Day of Light" event was created to break down the emotional, physical, and cultural barriers often found inside the trash dump community, and to reawaken dreams, imagination, and hope in all those who participated in the day.

On the morning of March 6, over 200 university students, associated with Orphan Network's alternative spring break, and a team of 60+ individuals with Love Light and Melody gathered at the entrance of the dump. The day began by acknowledging the many organizations serving the people living in the city dump. One of the central themes behind the "Day of Light" was to stand as a united front that "people and trash don't belong together!"

The event began to unfold as those that gathered at the entrance began to infiltrate this community. Participants in the event talked, served, and invited those working in the trash to a concert Braddigan had prepared for those living there. As participants flooded through this community, children began to leave their posts in the trash and followed the parade of color and music. Slowly the forty-plus kites, brought in that day by the LL&M team, were passed off into the hands of the children working amongst the rubbish.

Vultures swooped overhead and came face to face with these magic banners (kites)...a true depiction of the battle of light and darkness that wages over this community. As the day pressed on, what once appeared as a war zone began to transform into an enchanted carnival. In culmination with Braddigan's concert, a group of muralists in partnership with the LL&M team painted a 70 x 12 foot mural on the wall of the School of Hope located inside the landfill.


As the muralists did their work, paints were left out so that children could put their fingerprints of color on the wall. These thumbprints quickly became vibrant little flower petals, and then a rainbow grew out of the rest flowing into a bunch of butterflies... we were all reminded as we watched the mural take shape, that we just don't dream enough!

In addition, several other artists joined the musical performance with Braddigan... artist and songwriter Whitney Whyte along with Brazilian artist Danny added their touch by contributing to a final song written specifically for the people in this community. At the close of the event the chorus was sung by all... "Amen! Hallelujah, love comes living here, dia de luz, melodia, in La Chureca, ohah!" A true depiction of what the day truly stood for.

We watched people of all colors, shapes, and sizes sweat, laugh, sing and dance as one family... and saw a glimpse of the life we were all meant for! A life where people stand together for one thing and one thing only... LOVE!