I have been dreading having to write this post. This is the horrible "I made it home safely but procrastinated for over a month and now have to do the tedious trip summary" entry. I apologize.
After Granada we went to a little homestay spanish school by the name of Hijos Del Maiz or Children of the Corn. Unfortunate name choice. Needless to say I was a bit nervous. The bus ride there was kind of amazing. The Bus was tricked out with colorful streamers and the bus driver was ripped and blasted clubbing music the entire time. The road was essentially an empty riverbed filled with giant rocks. At one point the bus stopped for 10 minutes next to an exeptionally large pile of rocks while a man jumped out and began loading rocks into the bus...just incase the hundreds of pounds of grain, firewood and pregnant women we were already hauling wasn't enough. Everyone was covered in dust from the open windows. A man asked Justin to see if the communal water bottle was under our seat and upon looking Justin pulled out a container of engine coolant. The man looked at us as if we were insane to try to drink engine coolant...He apparently had not taken the bus to Matagalpa where we witnessed the passangers drinking water out of a container that held this exact brand of coolant.
The school was quite the experience. The teachers were not as equipt as our school in San Juan Del Sur, but the home stay made it worth our while. We stayed in a brick campesino house with an adobe oven. Our host mother grew/roasted/grounded and made our coffee herself. She made her own cheese, grew her own vegetables raised her own children/grandchildren and the majority of the communties children. She and her Husband lived in the town when it was attacked by the contras. The entire town is proud of their history and makes sure everyone knows their turbulent past. The town, Legartillo was run off of a few hours of solar electricity a day. All their water was supplied by a treasured pump that each family took turns guarding on rotation every night. Legartillo has an amazing, supportive community and provided me with the most eye opening part of our trip. The month after we left the town the government put in land lines for electricity. I wonder how the town has changed since then..
After Hijos Del Maiz, we spent our time traveling back and forth from Leon, Esteli, Jiquilillo and then back to Granada.
Leon is a metropolitan city known for its heat. We ate at some amazingly fancy restaurants for as little as 25 dollars for two meals and bottle service, got swarmed by locusts on top of a cathedral, went to some great museums such as the myths and legends museum and one that specialized in the contemporary art of Latin America. We also both ate something bad here that forced us to go running full speed back to the beach.
Jiquilillo is a small beach town on a peninsula of northern Nicaragua. We stayed at a hostel in a bamboo hut about 30 feet from the beach. We found giant shells, watched fishermen bring in sharks after a day of fishing, read tons of books, swam, rescued a sea turtle from becoming soup and met a lot of really great travelers. We left the day before the horrible earthquake in Japan which forced everyone away from the beach in fear of a tsunami. Jiquilillo was wiped out by a tsunami not very long ago and many of the people who live there lost family members.
Esteli is most known for its coffee plantations and cigar factories. We went on a cigar factory tour, drank some amazing organic coffee, saw a sloth in the rain forest, slept in a treehouse, and stayed on a legit Finca.
Then we went home. I left a bazillion things out of this summary...but that's what happens when you procrastinate. It took us over 24 hours to get home thanks to hurricane like winds in Florida and an 8 hour layover. Justin and I both jumped back into the American lifestyle quickly enjoying our reliable electricity, toilets that can accomadate toilet paper flushing, foods we missed, and a bed guaranteed to be bed bug free. Prices were hard to get used to again. Everytime we bought something we converted it to Cordobas and realized for one tank of gas you could get all of your daily meals.
We hibernated for a month and tomorrow we set off on our next grand adventure. The Pacific Crest Trail. We are hiking over 1,000 miles from the border of Mexico to Truckee, CA. This will officially cover all the places that Justin had to skip last summer and provide another two and a half months of living rent free. We have officially gone 365 days of not paying rent or having a permanent address.
What a crazy year!
I am almost 24!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Granada
We just happened to arrive in the bustling city of Granada during the anual Festival Internacional de Poesía. A perfect mistake. There were giant stages set up all over the city where international poets read their work to eager crowds. Nicaragua has a rich, rich history of poets. Ruben Dario being the most famous poetic celebrity is well known by all. So while we wandered around looking at the amazing cathedrals and churches we were surrounded by cultural demonstrations of nicaraguan tradition. This link is from 2009, but it explains the event very well. Passion for Poetry in Nicaragua-BBC.
Our first day in Nicaragua we were overwhelmed by the heat and noise. The city was a drastic change from our relaxed island adventure. The only downfall to our Granada timing was that every hotel was booked. A slightly crazy looking man picked up on our lost-overwhelmed-american tourist scents and insisted on helping us find a hotel. He walked us from place to place, speaking in broken english and waving at random people...we were highly skeptical. Why was he so insistant on helping us, how did he know all these people and more importantly did we have to tip him?? Finally we settled on a semi-private room in a hostel that seemed nice. We had half a wall seperating our room from the other. We noticed that the hotel gave our insisting guide 30 cordobas. We figured it was good that he helped us navigate because at one point we found ourselves surrounded by the glue sniffing street kids that are typical of Granada..our guide skillfully swatted them away. We spent the majority of our morning drinking giant glasses of iced cacao in the central park while watching the street vendors do their thing. We took the obligatory siesta and then went to the central park at night to watch nationally famous singer Carlos Mejía Godoy perform infront of the cathedral.
Our first day in Nicaragua we were overwhelmed by the heat and noise. The city was a drastic change from our relaxed island adventure. The only downfall to our Granada timing was that every hotel was booked. A slightly crazy looking man picked up on our lost-overwhelmed-american tourist scents and insisted on helping us find a hotel. He walked us from place to place, speaking in broken english and waving at random people...we were highly skeptical. Why was he so insistant on helping us, how did he know all these people and more importantly did we have to tip him?? Finally we settled on a semi-private room in a hostel that seemed nice. We had half a wall seperating our room from the other. We noticed that the hotel gave our insisting guide 30 cordobas. We figured it was good that he helped us navigate because at one point we found ourselves surrounded by the glue sniffing street kids that are typical of Granada..our guide skillfully swatted them away. We spent the majority of our morning drinking giant glasses of iced cacao in the central park while watching the street vendors do their thing. We took the obligatory siesta and then went to the central park at night to watch nationally famous singer Carlos Mejía Godoy perform infront of the cathedral.
The next morning we heard a rumor that a parade would be starting just down the block from our hostal. The rumor was proven to be true when suddenly fireworks starting exploding and a band began playing. Out of absolutely nowhere hundreds of people in amazing costumes appeared infront of the delapidated church and began dancing in a manner that I have never witnessed before in my entire life..
All the men were dressed like voluptuous women complete with nylons, heels, makeup, undergarments..you name it. They all wore fantastic painted wooden masks. It was literally insane. Sensory overload.
Soon we noticed more and more people in costumes lining up in the street to prepare for the parade. Groups of boys dragging chains between them ran full speed down the street, falling, scraping their knees on the road, setting off fireworks and chasing each other while wearing this hats will tall blue thingys ( for lack of a better word) jutting up a few feet into the air. Folklorico groups danced along behind them. More men in dresses shimmied their way down the street to reggeaton. It was magnificent.
Towards the end of the parade a group of men dressed like random political figures (that I don´t know well enough to identify..except Ortega of course) came walking down the street. The man dressed as Ortega was manipulating a giant piñata while random characters attempted to swat at it. A man in a purple dress called Justin into the parade and made him try to hit the piñata. Justin being the insightful, respectful person he is gently swatted the piñata just incase the action was disrespectful to a certain political party. The man, most likely unimpressed by Justin´s batting arm called me in next. Because I am apparently much more oblivious to my political actions I wailed on that piñata like there was no tomorrow while the crazy men in dresses danced and chanted around me. Definetly the weirdest moment in my life so far. The group was protesting the Costa Rican-Nicaraguan dispute of the Rio San Juan. I am not sure of American involvement in this issue, but I would not be surprised if a photo of me destroying that piñata suddenly appears in some ¨Get America out of our Teritorial Disputes!¨ article...oops.
Other than the crazy parade, The poverty in Granada seemed overwhelming. I´m not sure if the beggers were out in full force because of the influx of tourists or what, but it was really heartbreaking. Children begging for food followed us everywhere. We were so bothered by it that we left earlier than we had intended to. We plan on returning to Granada for a few more days before we fly home. It will be interesting to see the city a bit less inflated with people.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
una poema
Los Indios Cielos
Abramos un camino en el aire,
para mirarnos,
busquemos un rincón en el aire
para acostarnos.
Sin luz en el cuerpo
sólo con fuego.
Este color de sombra tiene tu cara.
Este color de sombra es la sombra de tu alma.
Abramos un camino en el aire
con tu brazo.
Si no te ven mis ojos, que te vea
mi carne.
¡Ah! No tenemos luz en el cuerpo
Tenemos fuego.
para mirarnos,
busquemos un rincón en el aire
para acostarnos.
Sin luz en el cuerpo
sólo con fuego.
Este color de sombra tiene tu cara.
Este color de sombra es la sombra de tu alma.
Abramos un camino en el aire
con tu brazo.
Si no te ven mis ojos, que te vea
mi carne.
¡Ah! No tenemos luz en el cuerpo
Tenemos fuego.
--------
The Blind Indians
Lets open a road in the air
so we can look at each other.
Lets look for a corner in the air
so we can lie down.
Without light in our bodies, only fire.
Your face has the color of shadow.
The color of shadow, the color of your soul.
Lets open a road in the air
with your arm.
If my eyes do not see you
my flesh will.
Ah we don´t have light in our bodies.
We have fire.
Joaquin Pasos
One of these days I need to drink eight cups of coffee, find an air conditioned Cyber and update this blog. It seems impossible to catch up. I found this poem in a book while wasting away time on a curb in the middle of a campesino community. Poetry is HUGE in Nicaragua. Poets are celebrities.
Right now we are in Leon and it is HOT, HOT, HOT.
Ice cream has never been so necessary.
Monday, February 28, 2011
How to Ride a Bus in Nicaragua.
Learning how the buses work is an important skill while traveling in Nicaragua. After much thought, trial and questioning I have learned that there really are no rules. Not one..Except maybe learn to breath through your mouth. A bus ride usually goes something like this...
1. Find a busy street and stand in the dirt near enough to read the destination of passing buses but far away enough not to get hit with rocks kicked up by speeding motorcycles.
2. Carefully examine each bus that passes in order to determine its destination. One way to do this is to decipher the name of the bus, usually written in old english, somewhere near the name will be the town name. Another way to do this is to attempt to make out the words being shouted by a boy hanging out the bus door, it usually sounds like this ...moyogalpamoyogalpamoyogalpa... Attempt to do this before the bus passes to avoid chasing after in a cloud of exhaust.
3. Once you have found the correct bus wave your arms wildly and hope it stops. Sometimes they do, your bag is grabbed from you and lifted up to the arms of a boy who has been riding on the roof. Sometimes they only slow down as you run in your flipflops and reach for the arms of the boy at the door, hoping he can pull you in before the nearing street sign hits you in the face. Sometimes if the bus is at capacity...a word that doesnt really mean anything...you can ride on the roof and duck under power lines.
4. Good job you made it on board. Now try to squeeze past the crowd and head towards the back. There is a three plus person to a seat norm. You are lucky if you get both butt cheeks on a seat. Usually you have to stand, swaying around while one hand grasps at the center pole above your head. You will probably be sandwiched between a bucket of fertilizer, a bag of manure, a woman in heels carrying a baby and a man with a bag of live chickens digging into your side. Your head will also be nestled nicely in an armpit.
5. Grin and bear it. Usually some bad club music is blasting. I usually close my eyes and pretend Im at a party..a really smelly, dusty party.
6. Pay the man that comes pushing through the crowd. It costs about a dollar.
7. When the bus stops vendors push their way on the bus with fried chicken, bread, sodas, bags of produce and basically anything you could ever want.You could probably buy anything you ever need if you ride the bus long enough.
8. Sometimes there is a shared water container...sometimes this water is being passed around in an empty engine coolant container. Drink at your own risk.
9. If you choose to ride on the top, find your spot between the thousands of pounds of grain sacks. Its probably more comfortable than sitting on a pile of wood. Also, watch for power lines. Expect to be covered in dust.
10. Sometimes the bus stops while crossing creeks in order for a man with a bucket to douse the overheating engine with water.
11. Congrats you made it. Now push your way off the bus before it starts leaving. Find a new spot on this road to flag down your next ride.
1. Find a busy street and stand in the dirt near enough to read the destination of passing buses but far away enough not to get hit with rocks kicked up by speeding motorcycles.
2. Carefully examine each bus that passes in order to determine its destination. One way to do this is to decipher the name of the bus, usually written in old english, somewhere near the name will be the town name. Another way to do this is to attempt to make out the words being shouted by a boy hanging out the bus door, it usually sounds like this ...moyogalpamoyogalpamoyogalpa... Attempt to do this before the bus passes to avoid chasing after in a cloud of exhaust.
3. Once you have found the correct bus wave your arms wildly and hope it stops. Sometimes they do, your bag is grabbed from you and lifted up to the arms of a boy who has been riding on the roof. Sometimes they only slow down as you run in your flipflops and reach for the arms of the boy at the door, hoping he can pull you in before the nearing street sign hits you in the face. Sometimes if the bus is at capacity...a word that doesnt really mean anything...you can ride on the roof and duck under power lines.
4. Good job you made it on board. Now try to squeeze past the crowd and head towards the back. There is a three plus person to a seat norm. You are lucky if you get both butt cheeks on a seat. Usually you have to stand, swaying around while one hand grasps at the center pole above your head. You will probably be sandwiched between a bucket of fertilizer, a bag of manure, a woman in heels carrying a baby and a man with a bag of live chickens digging into your side. Your head will also be nestled nicely in an armpit.
5. Grin and bear it. Usually some bad club music is blasting. I usually close my eyes and pretend Im at a party..a really smelly, dusty party.
6. Pay the man that comes pushing through the crowd. It costs about a dollar.
7. When the bus stops vendors push their way on the bus with fried chicken, bread, sodas, bags of produce and basically anything you could ever want.You could probably buy anything you ever need if you ride the bus long enough.
8. Sometimes there is a shared water container...sometimes this water is being passed around in an empty engine coolant container. Drink at your own risk.
9. If you choose to ride on the top, find your spot between the thousands of pounds of grain sacks. Its probably more comfortable than sitting on a pile of wood. Also, watch for power lines. Expect to be covered in dust.
10. Sometimes the bus stops while crossing creeks in order for a man with a bucket to douse the overheating engine with water.
11. Congrats you made it. Now push your way off the bus before it starts leaving. Find a new spot on this road to flag down your next ride.
Tranquilo
I´m going to sum up Ometepe in a list of highlights because it´s easier. This keyboard has punctuation in all the wrong spots.
1. Charco Verde..A nature reserve where we met an awesome couple from vancouver, accumulated a crazy third person who didn´t get the clue and waded waist deep through a swamp while howler moneys sat above us.
2. Walked to Merida because crazy latched on person didn´t want to pay a dollar for the bus. It took us two hours and was rather miserable.
3. Stayed at an awesome hostel in Merida. We were the only people there so we had a private chef and a room with screens on the windows....the screens part deserves an exclaimation point but I cant find it on this ridiculous keyboard. Jumping off docks while the sunsets while two volcanos tower in the distance. Hiked to a waterfall. Learned to pronoune Merida correctly...we had been calling it mierda which apparently means shit.
4. Took the bus around the volcano to Balgue where we stayed in an old coffee plantation. Shared a room with a vampire bat. Walked around the beautiful gardens. Saw a lot of petroglyphs from ancient cultures. Saw a dead tarantula in the bathroom and decided not to shower while there. Lots of monkeys.
5. Santo Domingo. Walked to Ojo de Aqua, a fresh water pool nestled between two volcanos. Drank coconut juice and beer...not together. Relaxed.
6. Rode the most crowded bus I have ever been on...EVER. Back to Moyogalpa. Boarded an even sketchier looking ferry and somehow made it back to Rivas alive and with breakfast still in our stomachs.
An Apology... I have not encountered a single computer that has the keys in the correct spot since being in Nicaragua. I have no idea if any of my sentences make any sense to you. Also I dont know how to change spell check to English, so every other word is probably spelled incorrectly. Hopefully I will catch up on these blog posts someday. For every post, about a trillion things happen in real life.
1. Charco Verde..A nature reserve where we met an awesome couple from vancouver, accumulated a crazy third person who didn´t get the clue and waded waist deep through a swamp while howler moneys sat above us.
2. Walked to Merida because crazy latched on person didn´t want to pay a dollar for the bus. It took us two hours and was rather miserable.
3. Stayed at an awesome hostel in Merida. We were the only people there so we had a private chef and a room with screens on the windows....the screens part deserves an exclaimation point but I cant find it on this ridiculous keyboard. Jumping off docks while the sunsets while two volcanos tower in the distance. Hiked to a waterfall. Learned to pronoune Merida correctly...we had been calling it mierda which apparently means shit.
4. Took the bus around the volcano to Balgue where we stayed in an old coffee plantation. Shared a room with a vampire bat. Walked around the beautiful gardens. Saw a lot of petroglyphs from ancient cultures. Saw a dead tarantula in the bathroom and decided not to shower while there. Lots of monkeys.
5. Santo Domingo. Walked to Ojo de Aqua, a fresh water pool nestled between two volcanos. Drank coconut juice and beer...not together. Relaxed.
6. Rode the most crowded bus I have ever been on...EVER. Back to Moyogalpa. Boarded an even sketchier looking ferry and somehow made it back to Rivas alive and with breakfast still in our stomachs.
An Apology... I have not encountered a single computer that has the keys in the correct spot since being in Nicaragua. I have no idea if any of my sentences make any sense to you. Also I dont know how to change spell check to English, so every other word is probably spelled incorrectly. Hopefully I will catch up on these blog posts someday. For every post, about a trillion things happen in real life.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Omotepe
Tomorrow morning we are leaving for Omotepe, a volcanic island in the middle of a fresh water lake. Justin and I are SO ready to shed some of this San Juan Del Sur drama and start something new. I am not sure how often I will have access to internet (or a phone) so be prepared to wait in extreme suspense. Har har.
All sarcasm aside, I am fairly confident that the most adventurous portion of our trip is about to begin. Good stories to come soon!
All sarcasm aside, I am fairly confident that the most adventurous portion of our trip is about to begin. Good stories to come soon!
Friday, February 4, 2011
cotillear
The days here seem to all meld together into one giant sunscreen-sand coated day at the beach. We are really excited for the change of scenery that will take place on Tuesday morning. We will be jumping on a chicken bus (ancient school bus from the US) and heading towards Omotepe, a volcanic island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua. We hope to find a farm to work on for a week, hike one of the volcanoes, swim with (out) the freshwater sharks and eat lots of awesome Nicaraguan produce.
In the meanwhile, we are just taking it easy. As in all small towns, there is lots of gossip going on in San Juan Del Sur and we have found it entirely way TOO interesting to indulge. Apparently the old pizza maker is a stud with all the young girls, so and so is not really the father, all the bartenders at a certain bar have STDs and the owner of the resort in town has currently fled the country with an army of private investigators on his tail.
I am really glad that we decided to stay in one place for a month because we got to learn a lot more about the area than just the touristy things. We have lived the the daily rythm, the ladies in the market recognize us and the boy who works at Comedor Margaritas knows my favorite thing on the menu. Justin and I both feel like we coulde easily live here for a longer period of time in the future. It would be great to come back and work in the schools or help with the local recycling program. Who knows though, there are too many places to experience and so little time.
In the meanwhile, we are just taking it easy. As in all small towns, there is lots of gossip going on in San Juan Del Sur and we have found it entirely way TOO interesting to indulge. Apparently the old pizza maker is a stud with all the young girls, so and so is not really the father, all the bartenders at a certain bar have STDs and the owner of the resort in town has currently fled the country with an army of private investigators on his tail.
I am really glad that we decided to stay in one place for a month because we got to learn a lot more about the area than just the touristy things. We have lived the the daily rythm, the ladies in the market recognize us and the boy who works at Comedor Margaritas knows my favorite thing on the menu. Justin and I both feel like we coulde easily live here for a longer period of time in the future. It would be great to come back and work in the schools or help with the local recycling program. Who knows though, there are too many places to experience and so little time.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Jesus Christo
On one side of the San Juan Del Sur harbor there is a giant fiberglass Jesus statue which was donated by an American man who developed the first expensive gated community in the area. Yesterday we climbed up to see the view from Jesus´ perch. In our guide book we were given two routes to make the trip, the most recommended being the road across from a suspension bridge a little while out of the center of town. We approached the bridge which slightly resembles a tiny version of the Golden Gate, and set across. About half way into our bridge crossing we realized that the entire bridge was slowly swaying over the river. Despite our dizzieness we continued to cross. The road we were supposed to take started to look shiftier and shiftier so we desided to attempt route number two. We crossed back over the suspension bridge and began our walk to the end of the harbor. The ground felt like it was moving after walking on the bridge.
At the very end of the harbot we found some ancient, decaying cement steps (refered to in the book as a "ladder"). The steps were so narrow they could not hold an entire foot. Still we continued up. After the stairs we encountered a hilly road paved in typical Nica style, tiles of cement bricks. The road was overgrown and lined with abandoned vacation homes and empty lots left over from the real estate boom. I decided to carry a giant rock in secret fear that we would be robbed, luckily we didn´t encounter a single person let alone a thief. Finally we reached the top and found a good look out. We caught our breaths and chugged some water and then got scared and decided to walk back down quickly. It was an amazing view though, and well worth the intimidating steps.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
(s)ex-pats
Something about this town makes me nauseous and no, it is not the local water or the overabundance of cheap rum. There is an odd dynamic between the local Nicaraguans and the ever increasing ex-pat community. Other than the obvious land/market exploitation and the nonexistant desire of these wealthy americans to learn about the local culture, these American men take advantage of the local women (and girls).
A few days ago Justin told his spanish teacher about our encounter with the other hotel guest and his "lady friend". She told him that instances like that are normal occurances here. There are a few Brothels in town, often diguised as a hair salon or other sort of business. However some of these are quite obvious with girls, YOUNG girls loitering around the front steps. Other than flat out prostitution, many of the girls are driven into a less defined position (which actually is prostitution). They are forced by their families to cling onto and older, male ex-pat or tourist. The man will give her gifts, pay her bills-rent-meals in exchange for her company (not just sexual favors). He becomes her boyfriend, and eventually he may give her parents money in exchange for marriage. Its a survival mechanism for poor families that encourages the exploitation of local families. For example, There is an ex-pat man here who lives near us with his Nica girlfriend. She looks to be about 15 years old. He must be over 60. Completely normal here.
This dynamic is not out of the norm in Central America, and it is increasing in Nicaragua because of the influx in tourism and Americans moving here. I was reading an article yesterday that mentioned a study in which 300 Nica street kids were interviewed, and 80 percent admitted to participating in prostitution. A woman who is staying at the same hotel as us, told us that there are a growing number of pedophiles moving to areas of Costa Rica and other large expat communities because their habits are seemingly welcomed by impoverished families.
I noticed today in the San Juan Del Sur paper, that the first womans shelter was opened this week in the town. There are only about three shelters in all of Nicaragua. Women dont have many rights in this country, but it seems like the issues are slowly becoming more aknowledged among communities.
OKAY, now for the more light hearted part about our trip!!
Yesteray was spent at the beach (AGAIN!) no complaints at all. The water is warm, swimming is good, sand is white. We have been eating so much good fun, with the occasional order of juice or weird french toast that tastes like Pepto Bismol. Today we may hike up to the giant fiber glass Jesus that overlooks the bay and tomorrow we are going to Hermosa Beach, where Survivor was filmed, to go surfing. Justin says he will teach me but I think I may be too scared. We are getting a bit restless in this town and cannot wait to go to Omotepe, swim with fresh water sharks, possibly go volcano boarding and sleep in a tree house.
Today I asked for a side of gallo pinto all in Spanish and felt stupidly smug afterwards. I figure as long as I can ask for food and ask where the bathroom is, I should be able to survive. Miss you all!
A few days ago Justin told his spanish teacher about our encounter with the other hotel guest and his "lady friend". She told him that instances like that are normal occurances here. There are a few Brothels in town, often diguised as a hair salon or other sort of business. However some of these are quite obvious with girls, YOUNG girls loitering around the front steps. Other than flat out prostitution, many of the girls are driven into a less defined position (which actually is prostitution). They are forced by their families to cling onto and older, male ex-pat or tourist. The man will give her gifts, pay her bills-rent-meals in exchange for her company (not just sexual favors). He becomes her boyfriend, and eventually he may give her parents money in exchange for marriage. Its a survival mechanism for poor families that encourages the exploitation of local families. For example, There is an ex-pat man here who lives near us with his Nica girlfriend. She looks to be about 15 years old. He must be over 60. Completely normal here.
This dynamic is not out of the norm in Central America, and it is increasing in Nicaragua because of the influx in tourism and Americans moving here. I was reading an article yesterday that mentioned a study in which 300 Nica street kids were interviewed, and 80 percent admitted to participating in prostitution. A woman who is staying at the same hotel as us, told us that there are a growing number of pedophiles moving to areas of Costa Rica and other large expat communities because their habits are seemingly welcomed by impoverished families.
I noticed today in the San Juan Del Sur paper, that the first womans shelter was opened this week in the town. There are only about three shelters in all of Nicaragua. Women dont have many rights in this country, but it seems like the issues are slowly becoming more aknowledged among communities.
OKAY, now for the more light hearted part about our trip!!
Yesteray was spent at the beach (AGAIN!) no complaints at all. The water is warm, swimming is good, sand is white. We have been eating so much good fun, with the occasional order of juice or weird french toast that tastes like Pepto Bismol. Today we may hike up to the giant fiber glass Jesus that overlooks the bay and tomorrow we are going to Hermosa Beach, where Survivor was filmed, to go surfing. Justin says he will teach me but I think I may be too scared. We are getting a bit restless in this town and cannot wait to go to Omotepe, swim with fresh water sharks, possibly go volcano boarding and sleep in a tree house.
Today I asked for a side of gallo pinto all in Spanish and felt stupidly smug afterwards. I figure as long as I can ask for food and ask where the bathroom is, I should be able to survive. Miss you all!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
yo no se
The Miss Nicaragua competition was not quite as tacky as I had imagined/hoped. The best part was when a transformer exploded and sent a shower of sparks on to the thatch roofed restaurant in which the competition was held. It was interesting to see the reactions of the locals to these so called "queens of the sea". During the swimsuit competition, all the men catcalled and shouted at the girls. We stayed until the power went out and then were much more enthralled by the fire spinning-fire breathing and coal walking that was going on down the beach.
The investigation is still underway about who took our money. No new news on that topic. Hopefully more news to come.
Today we had an interesting run in with a prostitute in our hotel. We were coming out of our room and caught one of the other guests sneaking her out. Shortly after we went to go get drinks on the beach and lo and behold the girl was at the table next to us buying drinks with money from her "boyfriend". It was delightfully awkward.
Hopefully one of these days I will have much better things to write about than robberies and prostitution.
Hasta Luego!
The investigation is still underway about who took our money. No new news on that topic. Hopefully more news to come.
Today we had an interesting run in with a prostitute in our hotel. We were coming out of our room and caught one of the other guests sneaking her out. Shortly after we went to go get drinks on the beach and lo and behold the girl was at the table next to us buying drinks with money from her "boyfriend". It was delightfully awkward.
Hopefully one of these days I will have much better things to write about than robberies and prostitution.
Friday, January 21, 2011
pig slaughtering, beauty pageants and catching a thief.
Yesterday while eating our two dollar lunch in the market, Justin and I witnessed a terrifying event. While we were eating our chicken and gallo pinto, we heard a horrifically loud squeal. Another american was eating in the same area and jumped up out of her seat exclaiming " I really hope that is the worlds loudest baby!"...unfortunately it wasn´t the worlds loudest baby, but the death shreik of a pig about three feet behind me. It sqealed again and we heard the pig blood draining into a bucket. Instantly I lost my appetite. Justin was unphased.
In other news, today while in our Spanish class, a parade came marching down the street. By parade I mean 14 Miss Nicaragua contestants, a band of 7 people playing random instruments and more police than I have seen in one place since being here. Tonight on the beach we are going to watch the competition. Today we watched as the Nicas set up the stage and speakers on the beach only inches above the increasing tide.
Also today we realized that one of the workers at the hotel we are staying at has been stealing money from the safe in our room. We estimate that over the course of our ten days here, he or she has taken close to $400. We told the couple who owns the hotel and they swiftly began brainstorming plans to catch the thief red handed. They confiscated our lock box and are taking it to the police to have it fingerprinted and to have all the employees interrogated. CSI NICARAGUA. We are trying our best to count this experience as a life lesson, but it´s been hard to ignore since $400 dollars could easily have sustained our travels down here for atleast a couple weeks. More news about this later.
In other news, today while in our Spanish class, a parade came marching down the street. By parade I mean 14 Miss Nicaragua contestants, a band of 7 people playing random instruments and more police than I have seen in one place since being here. Tonight on the beach we are going to watch the competition. Today we watched as the Nicas set up the stage and speakers on the beach only inches above the increasing tide.
Also today we realized that one of the workers at the hotel we are staying at has been stealing money from the safe in our room. We estimate that over the course of our ten days here, he or she has taken close to $400. We told the couple who owns the hotel and they swiftly began brainstorming plans to catch the thief red handed. They confiscated our lock box and are taking it to the police to have it fingerprinted and to have all the employees interrogated. CSI NICARAGUA. We are trying our best to count this experience as a life lesson, but it´s been hard to ignore since $400 dollars could easily have sustained our travels down here for atleast a couple weeks. More news about this later.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
no hablo español...
Today was our second day of spanish classes. Justin and I each get a private teacher for four hours a day. It´s overwhelming how much information we cover. All the teachers love Justin. Who knew that he could be so suave? I guess Spanish is his language.
It´s been nice to have him around though because there have been MANY situations where I am cowering in the corning trying to remember how important it is to remember the difference between saying "I am embarrassed" - estoy avergonzado and "I am pregnant"- estoy embarazada, while Justin is swiftly bargaining to get our bananas at a lower price.
Yesterday I found that I am allergic to my Malaria medication. Thousands of tiny bumps all over my arms, hands, feet and chest. My spanish teacher noticed me scratching during the lesson and offered to help me find a remedy at the local farmacia. The entire way (half a block) she coached me on how to ask, "Necesito una crema contra la picazón." When I walked up to the counter he had no idea what I was saying and my teacher had to say everything for me. Someday I will conquer this language, until then Justin will have to do all the talking...although today he accidentally ran into someone and said "Buenos Noches" at 9 am.
It´s been nice to have him around though because there have been MANY situations where I am cowering in the corning trying to remember how important it is to remember the difference between saying "I am embarrassed" - estoy avergonzado and "I am pregnant"- estoy embarazada, while Justin is swiftly bargaining to get our bananas at a lower price.
Yesterday I found that I am allergic to my Malaria medication. Thousands of tiny bumps all over my arms, hands, feet and chest. My spanish teacher noticed me scratching during the lesson and offered to help me find a remedy at the local farmacia. The entire way (half a block) she coached me on how to ask, "Necesito una crema contra la picazón." When I walked up to the counter he had no idea what I was saying and my teacher had to say everything for me. Someday I will conquer this language, until then Justin will have to do all the talking...although today he accidentally ran into someone and said "Buenos Noches" at 9 am.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Five Days In
It´s hard to complain about anything that has been happening lately. Our average day goes something like this:
8:00 wake up and drink complimentary Nicaraguan coffee while playing with a spoiled, white, poodle named Bear. We eat a breakfast of eggs, gallo pinto and fresh fruit while the breeze blows in through the open windows.
10:00 walk around town for a bit, purchase some tortillas and bananas from the market around the corner. Pack a bag and head to the beach.
5:30 watch the sunset and then get home from the beach. Eat a 2 dollar dinner of fish, more gallo pinto, fried plantains and vegetables.
8:00 shower in our funny looking shower and then relax until we fall asleep.
Beers are a dollar, bottles of aged rum cost 2 dollars and 50 cents and you can sit at a cabana on the beach and eat delicious food for the price of fast food in the states.
The ONLY things that are hard to get used to are the language barrier and the fact that you can´t flush toilet paper.
8:00 wake up and drink complimentary Nicaraguan coffee while playing with a spoiled, white, poodle named Bear. We eat a breakfast of eggs, gallo pinto and fresh fruit while the breeze blows in through the open windows.
10:00 walk around town for a bit, purchase some tortillas and bananas from the market around the corner. Pack a bag and head to the beach.
5:30 watch the sunset and then get home from the beach. Eat a 2 dollar dinner of fish, more gallo pinto, fried plantains and vegetables.
8:00 shower in our funny looking shower and then relax until we fall asleep.
Beers are a dollar, bottles of aged rum cost 2 dollars and 50 cents and you can sit at a cabana on the beach and eat delicious food for the price of fast food in the states.
The ONLY things that are hard to get used to are the language barrier and the fact that you can´t flush toilet paper.
life is perfect.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
San Juan Del Sur
After 15 hours of traveling we finally made it to San Juan Del Sur, Nicargua. Yesterday was mostly overwhelming, but we are getting used to things today. The place we are staying is so nice. It is owned by a couple from Redding, CA. We share a bathroom with a really nice family from Switzerland and there are baby chickens that live outside our window.
It´s pretty hard to be here and not speak Spanish, but we hope to sign up for classes soon.
Also, its hot. Like really hot.
It´s pretty hard to be here and not speak Spanish, but we hope to sign up for classes soon.
Also, its hot. Like really hot.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Dealing with: The Doubters
In planning this trip Justin and I have encountered three different reactions when expressing our plans to people we love.
1) The Enthusiastic: This person usually reacts with bulging eyes and a little jump and maybe a " HOW EXCITING!" They quickly tell you the tales of their voyages, tips, tricks, life lessons and then tell you to have fun and not limit experience because of fear.
2) The Indifferent: "Oh that's cool.....So let me tell you more about the woes of my miserable life".
3) The Doubters: I've been encountering more of these lately. These people react with bulging eyes, but with much less enthusiasm. They usually tell us we are crazy and would be much better off getting real jobs and staying in California. They mean well, but bombard us with safety lectures and horrible stories about their cousin's sister's friend who was robbed at gun point.
Don't get me wrong, The Doubters mean well. They are worried and genuinely want us to have the best experience ever, but the negativity is overwhelming. I am aware that it is ALWAYS better safe than sorry and it is no good to be naive...but we have to learn somehow!
I feel like This!! says it best.
Despite the reactions of other people, Justin and I are eagerly awaiting take off. We have one accidental, expensive, UNNECESSARY vaccination (We've already made our first mistake!), we have our bug spray, swimsuits and passports and only three days to wait.
1) The Enthusiastic: This person usually reacts with bulging eyes and a little jump and maybe a " HOW EXCITING!" They quickly tell you the tales of their voyages, tips, tricks, life lessons and then tell you to have fun and not limit experience because of fear.
2) The Indifferent: "Oh that's cool.....So let me tell you more about the woes of my miserable life".
3) The Doubters: I've been encountering more of these lately. These people react with bulging eyes, but with much less enthusiasm. They usually tell us we are crazy and would be much better off getting real jobs and staying in California. They mean well, but bombard us with safety lectures and horrible stories about their cousin's sister's friend who was robbed at gun point.
Don't get me wrong, The Doubters mean well. They are worried and genuinely want us to have the best experience ever, but the negativity is overwhelming. I am aware that it is ALWAYS better safe than sorry and it is no good to be naive...but we have to learn somehow!
I feel like This!! says it best.
Despite the reactions of other people, Justin and I are eagerly awaiting take off. We have one accidental, expensive, UNNECESSARY vaccination (We've already made our first mistake!), we have our bug spray, swimsuits and passports and only three days to wait.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
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