Nicaragua is a wonderful cultural experience, especially in December. In Leon, one can experience La Griteria, a celebration of Mary’s immaculate conception, marvel at the humongous dancing dolls called Gigantonas, or join the locals in ringing in the New Year by burning a life-sized mannequin filled with fireworks. It also has beautiful islands, volcanos, and canyons.
The look of hope in her eyes broke my heart. Just a moment ago she lay there sleeping in the
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
Heat radiated from the makeshift grill standing crookedly beside the sidewalk. The early afternoon was already hot. On the grill was a wok of oil-boiled empanadas. Pieces of chicken and pork lay directly on the grate next to the wok, sizzling above the smoldering firewood. Trin pointed to the piece he wanted and asked, “cuanto cuesta” ( how much). The lady responded with the price in cordobas. It came with a full bag of homemade plantain chips and a side of Nicaraguan cabbage slaw.
The Crooked-Toothed Thief
Standing by the busy street that had items of local produce on display, waiting for the meal to be ready, I felt somebody’s hands press against both sides of my waist. I looked over at Trin. He had one hand holding his cell phone and the other by his side. By then, the hands were feeling over my pockets.
I twisted around to the would-be thief behind me. There stood a woman bedraggled with age. She smiled at me unapologetically, exposing brown, crooked teeth. I felt a small surge of anger at this intrusion of personal space, this insolent act taken with such liberty. She didn’t even try to hide her intentions. I told her to keep her hands off me. I had spoken in English, but my tone delivered the message unequivocally.
She stepped back as the crazed grin disappeared from her face. After a moment and then she raised one hand in the air and let out a jeering howl. It seemed to me that behind her facade, a pang of embarrassment spurred this juvenile attempt to save face. The surrounding people didn’t seem to notice, as if this was a daily occurrence in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua.
Finally, our meal was ready, the food placed directly in a plastic bag and handed to us.
We had read about the rise of petty crime directed towards tourists in this town, an erstwhile, small fishing village that has developed into a popular tourist town that offers surfing, sailing, and fishing. There’s a lot of construction going on, entrepreneurs taking advantage of the rising popularity of this small little town. There was a cruise ship docked just off the shore beyond the numerous fishing boats that were anchored near the beach.
Refugee Camp
Yesterday, we passed a refugee camp on our way out of Costa Rica, just before crossing the border into Nicaragua at Peñas Blancas by local bus. We later learned that the camp was primarily composed of refugees from Africa, Haiti, and Cuba, all hoping to reach the United States. This surge in migration is partly driven by fears that U.S. asylum rights for Cubans might soon be terminated. Many immigrants initially travel to Ecuador, attracted by its liberal immigration policies, and then journey northward. Recently, however, Nicaragua has been denying these migrants’ entry at the border.
Our border crossing went relatively smoothly. After reading numerous articles by travel bloggers about their experiences, we were prepared. As we reached the Nicaraguan side, we encountered a squad of border guards armed with AK47s. Exiting the Migration office, it felt like swimming through a sea of taxi drivers, each inquiring about our destination. A border guard advised us that the bus fare should be only 30 cordobas, yet the drivers charged us double. Despite our attempts to bargain, we ended up paying the “gringo price,” just like the other tourists on the bus.
A Hold-Up of Sorts
Inside the bus, every seat was taken and the aisle was crowded with people. Locals jostled and shoved as they made their way toward the back. We were on an old school bus originally from the United States. Most of the windows were cracked. At one point, someone had tinted the windows, but the film had mostly peeled off. We were on a chicken bus.
After taking on a few more passengers, the driver finally pulled out onto the highway. Just five minutes later, the bus halted and a uniformed military officer boarded. He instructed everyone to present their passports and began inspecting them, working his way to the back of the bus. Outside, three other military personnel armed with AK47s stood watch. The bus sat idle for about twenty minutes during the passport check.
Finally, the bus started moving again. We disembarked at La Virgen to take a connecting bus to San Juan. This time, we paid the same fare as the locals and we made it to San Juan without further incident.
San Juan del Sur
San Juan del Sur is perfect for those who like to party. We are not into the party life but enjoyed walking around the small town and felt very safe despite the run-in with that mediocre pickpocket.
Downtown San Juan del SurDoors, they really know how to make doors. Lots of beautiful entryways.You never know what you may see next, such as someone’s pet monkey
The home we stayed in was made of concrete, with bars over the windows and doors, allowing us to enjoy the ocean breeze without worrying about security at night. Another guest occupied the adjacent room—a journalist who was very respectful and concerned about not being intrusive. We spoke only a few times; he usually slept through the mornings and spent his nights out at bars.
Trin on his laptop in our living room figuring out the transit details to our next destination.The beach is guarded by an enormous statue of Christ at the top of the hill to the right.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
The streets are lined with chicken buses. It seems that all of Nicaragua has converged in Leon tonight. Vendors are on every corner selling quesillos, empanadas, maduros, and all manner of small toys.
This is the celebration of the conception of Mary, La Purisima.
In Nicaragua, 47% of the population proclaims Catholicism, and another 37% is Protestant. Leon boasts the largest basilica in all of Central America, Catedral de León. The celebration seems to be concentrated here.
We made our way to the central park just outside the cathedral. The square was packed with people shoulder to shoulder.
At 6 PM what sounded like a cannon exploded. Fireworks flew overhead lighting the sky in screaming kaleidoscopes. Sirens wailed and the church bells rang.
GIGANTONAS
Towering over the crowd, six gigantonas, lifeless until now, suddenly became animated and started twirling in a carefree dance to the beat of drums that added to the already saturated cacophony. Gigantonas are tall, statuesque dolls built to satirically represent the lavish, Spanish woman who came with the conquistadors. How are they related to La Purisima? Quien sabe.
Gigantonas danced in the streets all week and will do so for the rest of this month. They are followed by a group of children playing drums and a small Enano who represents the indigenous people. The large head of the enano is supposed to indicate that they were smarter. The dance is all to make fun of the conquistadors.
Smoke from the fireworks descended like a mist on top of the crowd. The massive doors to the basilica began to open. A large display of Mary with a backdrop of blue shimmering cloth appeared.
QUIEN CAUSA TANTA ALLEGRIA?
The crowd began to push their way toward the blessings being handed out in front of the shrine to Mary. Others started dissipating into the city streets to commence La Griteria (the shouting). People visit houses and shout Quien causa tanta allegria? (who causes so much happiness?) and the homeowners respond with la conception de Maria (Mary’s conception) while handing out a treat which could be anything from noise-making toys, candies, plastic bowls or plates, or a bag of spaghetti noodles.
At first, we were hesitant to join the fray but pretty soon it became apparent that it did not matter which class of society we belonged to. Everybody participates. Trin enthusiastically approached the homes with his hands raised in a receptive gesture exclaiming, “Quien causa tanta allegria?” I guess it was memorable. Three days later, as we were walking through central park, a man stood watching us closely as we approached. With a huge smile on his face, he held his hands out and said “Quien causa tanta allegria?” He said he remembers us at his house.
TREATS, BUT NO TRICKS
We ended up with a bowl, candies, cups, laundry soap, and a few other items. It was a lot of fun. It’s a bit similar to trick or treating in the United States, but not really. This is how we ended up not quite trick-or-treating in Leon.
By midnight we were back in our rooms when the next barrage of fireworks went off. We could constantly hear fireworks all night long going off from various directions. I couldn’t decide if we were in a war zone or in the middle of a huge bag of microwave popcorn. I was glad we were back in our rooms, safe from the sparks and streamers.
The following day is also considered a holiday. We slept in and moseyed along, getting breakfast and studying Spanish. The guy next door invited us to go to Las Penitas Beach for the afternoon. His name is Jonas and he is from Germany and staying in Leon for a few months to do his medical internship. We also met Tanya, a local Nica whom Jonas met through her German lessons.
PLAYA LAS PENITAS
The beach-bound buses at the Mercadito in Subtiaba were all packed. It turns out that Dec 8 is a popular day to go to the beach. We decided to hitchhike and found a ride in the back of a pickup truck. A couple of French backpackers joined us, and we were on our way. Jonas pulled out a six-pack of Victoria Classic and passed it around.
Victoria is one of the local Nica beers. Trin had trouble drinking in the wind. The couple to the right was happy to take a beer but did not talk to us the whole trip.
About a half hour later we got off at Bomalu Resort, a less crowded part of Playa Las Penitas. Tanya said that there would be fewer visitors here, and she was right. There were only a few on the beach and we enjoyed a peaceful afternoon split between jumping in the ocean waves and relaxing under a pavilion simply enjoying great conversation.
Tanya had to leave early but the rest of us stayed till the sun disappeared beyond the sea and then we wandered back out on the road to catch the bus.
As the bus went by we saw that every seat and the aisle was packed including the steps going into the bus and the exit doors. We decided to thumb it. Before long a pickup truck pulled over, and we hopped in the back. We had plenty of room for the journey with a beautiful warm breeze and Venus emerging in the sky while the colors gradually drained from the sparse clouds.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
Are the looks from strangers different this morning?
Is there another meaning behind the stares from locals as I stumble on the uneven sidewalk in Leon? Or is it just my imagination after the news this morning. The same courtesy still exists – the slight movement of a stranger to the side as we pass on the narrow sidewalks. The car at the intersection stops and waves me across the busy road. The kind cheesemaker who smiles and offers a taste from her selection. A few weeks ago she let me sample the cheeses in her shop until I found my favorite, queso fresca. Now I buy all our cheese from her.
But then I see the look, the one that sizes me up to see what I, the gringo, might have. I think it is just my imagination.
A BAG OF BLOODY CLOTHES
I’m only walking a few blocks down to the Pali to get ice cream. Vanilla, no chunks, for a man with a swollen face and bloody mouth.
This morning I was making crepes for breakfast when Rome, our kind host, came into the kitchen. In broken English said that there was a problem with Jonas, then she showed me his bloody clothes in a bag. Jonas is the German doctor in the room next to us doing his medical internship here. We have become friends, enjoyed many conversations, a few drinks, walks, and a trip to the beach together.
Roma said that Jonas was taken to the hospital. From her broken English and my limited Spanish, I was desperately trying to understand if Jonas was okay. The last I saw him was around 4 PM the previous day when he was leaving for his internship at the hospital, now it seems that he is a patient there.
From the mix of words in both languages I learned that Jonas got home around 2 AM this morning and paused outside the front door for a smoke. That’s when it happened.
THE ATTACK
Jonas recounted to us the events as he remembered them. He was sitting on the steps by the deserted street. A man on a bicycle appeared from the darkness. Stopping in front of Jonas the cyclist and asked him if he wanted marijuana.
“No,” said Jonas
The man asked him again. Jonas gave the same reply.
The next thing Jonas remembered was about an hour later, waking up in his bed with blood all over the sheets. The left side of his face was bleeding. He had an idea that he was in his room but somehow did not know that he was in Nicaragua. Things started to come back in bits and pieces but still, he did not know what happened.
Jonas got up and called on the hostel caretaker. Roma reported the incident to the police and accompanied Jonas to the hospital. He had a laceration on his upper lip and in his mouth that required stitches.
Later that morning we all watched the hostel surveillance video. It showed the cyclists stopping in front of Jonas. They appeared to be an exchanging a few words. Jonas was calmly seated while the stranger stood over him gesticulating. Then in one quick motion, he hit Jonas’ face with a right hook (Jonas remembered later that the man seemed to have had something metallic on his knuckles).
Jonas slumped sideways.
The man quickly rummaged through Jonas’ pockets and rode away. An iPhone and wallet were taken. A few seconds later, Jonas slowly got up, staggered around aimlessly, and then went into the hostel.
I have not felt unsafe in this city, but it did make me look around differently this morning.
MORE STITCHES
At mid-day Jonas was back at our hostel but after only a short nap he emerged from his room dripping blood everywhere. Julia our other neighbor rushed him back to the hospital. The hospital put in five more stitches. Trin and I stayed behind to help with the cleanup. We were no longer hungry for lunch.
What drives a man to justify violence? To justify taking what someone else has for himself? I know this could happen in any city and the Nicaraguans here in Leon have been kind and courteous. I still love Leon and all it has to offer but days like today make me pause and think.
Next week is Christmas. May you enjoy your holidays and cherish your loved ones. In seconds things could change, cherish what you have now.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
When you see them running toward you, turn around and run.
Rockets exploding from the bull running toward us.
Our New Year’s Eve began with a dinner cooked by Trinity for Manuel and Rome. They own and run the hostel where we are staying. They are a very kind, quiet couple who care about the people who stay here, especially when our friend was mugged. Trin made chicken adobo and a side dish of chayote.
PARTY LIKE A LOCAL
After dinner, Trin and I headed to Tania’s house to celebrate the start of the new year with her family. Tania is an intelligent and beautiful woman whom we met here in Leon, Nicaragua where she grew up and currently works as a dentist. We have enjoyed her insight into the area and into the culture of Nicaragua.
Trin, Bonnie, Tania, and Jose
I would not want to be driving through Leon in New Year’s Eve. Families and friends unofficially closed off many of the streets simply by stringing a rope across the road and setting up tables and chairs.
We hung out with Tania’s family and friends out on the street, talking and drinking. Nicaragua has a version of the eggnog called Rompope and it was pretty good.
PIÑATA FUN
After a while, they started up the piñata. This was as much for the adults as it was for the kids. It was setup to be a little bit more challenging as it was controlled by two people, one for the up and down motion and the other for the side to side. Almost everyone took turns, including Trin and I. It was not easy and the piñata hit us more than we hit it, but eventually somebody broke the piñata and we all grabbed candy.
Trin trying to break the pinata
A ROPE BOMB
Tania’s cousin works at a fireworks factory and every year he tries to outdo himself. As midnight approached he brought out a very long rope of bombs. They laid it out on the street from one end of the block to the other. The rope bomb was so long that there was still a lot of it left when they reached the other end of the block.
They were trying to decide whether to pull it across to the next street or just spread it out on the corner when we heard loud and fiery explosions coming from the other end of the block. Evidently, the other guys had already set off the rope bomb on the other end, and the explosions were approaching us at a quick pace. We stepped back as Tania’s cousin, who still had a large part of the rope bomb wrapped around his arm, frantically spread it out in all directions.
The string of fire bombs headed our way
RUNNING FROM THE BULL
After the string of bombs died down we walked back toward the middle of the block to see them light the bull. A man climbed inside a square box (vaguely resembling the shape of a bull) wired with multiple rocket bombs on every side.
Trin, trying on the bull before it was lit.
We followed him as he started prancing and hopping down the street, the people in front of him running away as the fuse grew shorter. Without warning, he quickly turned around and started running towards us. We ran away in fits of screams and laughter as the first set of rocket bombs flew in all directions. There would be a pause in between explosions as the fuse approached the next set in the bull, and we repeated the whole thing a few times.
Trin jumping as a rocket spins beneath his feet
BURNING MAN
Midnight had arrived, and it was time to burn the viejo (old man). He hung above the street from a wire strung between the homes on either side. The viejo is a paper mâché of an old man dressed to the 9’s with real clothes. He represents the old year that is passing. He is a stuffed with firecrackers and bombs. They light him up in a great bundle of fire and explosions.
Burning the Viejo, saying goodbye to 2016
They strung up the bull with another set of rocket bombs. We did another round of “running with the bull,” laughing and then having more drinks with the family. My favorite part of the night was seeing the family. Generations worth of relatives were sitting around in chairs in the street, together, talking, laughing, having fun and enjoying each other.
Fireworks continued to go off all around us and the streets were alive with parties. A wonderful way to bring in the new year.
Happy New Year to all. May this year brings you health and happiness, but most of all continued courage to question and seek the truth.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
I turned over on the grass to lay on my back. The moon had disappeared beyond the horizon. The winds cleared an opening in the clouds above us revealing a canopy of millions of stars. I could hear the next gust of wind headed toward us from far away like a winged night creature. I shivered and listened as the wind like a deamon of ice breathed on us and then thundered to the cone of lava behind us.
We had no idea it would be this cold sleeping on the edge of active volcano. Exposed to the wind, laying in the open we huddled between two lava boulders that time had cooled. The grass did nothing to cushion our backs from the stony ground. But we gazed contentedly at the stars while we lay next to the huge crater of Telica. She loomed over us like a sleeping giant, her hot breath a constant cloud.
Navigating to Telica
Over twelve hours ago we navigated the bus terminal in Leon, Nicaragua to board a chicken bus headed to San Jacinto. From there we walked through a small village and out into farmlands. We circumnaviged the unimpressive boiling mud pools for which the locals wanted to charge an entrance fee – even though they aren’t the ones who own the pools.
San Jacinto
The road headed out of town
The road leading us out of town was dusty from horse carts and herds of cattle being moving from field to field. The cattle, much like the dogs here, seemed to shy away from us even though one swipe from their long horns would have taken us out. The farmers we met along the way were friendly and asked us if we were headed to Telica.
The trail was not straightforward. Thankfully Trin downloaded the tracks for this trail onto our trusty old Garmin Legend from wikiloc.com. We would have missed a few turns without it. The trail that cuts across the valley to Telica Volcano is completely hidden from the road.
Volcano Telica in the distance smoking beyond the top of the corn stalk
Hazard Zone
After a few kilometers, we began our ascent. A warning sign greeted us at the treeline telling us that we were entering an active volcano area. Still, we climbed further eventually reaching another sign that warned us we were now in the “hazard zone” where volcanic rocks could fly out and hit us. We could see evidence of this all around us. Obsidian rocks lay strews across the grassy slope like a pool table after a good break.
We hid our backpacks between two large rocks where we planned to spend the night. Then we climbed the final few meters up to the edge of the crater. Halfway up, there were two Nicas that stopped us and asked us to sign the guestbook. They also wanted $3 each for entry. The volcano was not owned by any locals and it is illegal for them to stand guard asking for money. We said no. The big guy stood in front of Trin blocking his way. I took the opportunity to slip by on the side and Trin followed. The Nicas did not give chace.
At the top, we met one of the guides from QuetzalTrekkers who was there with a small group. We asked him about the guards and he told us that he did not pay either. We’ve heard of locals trying to collect money from tourists at entrances of natural attractions owned by the state. I’ll give to someone in need, but I dislike them lying about it. We just keep walking.
The Edge Of the Crater
Finally, at the edge of the crater choking on sulfuric smoke, we gazed down into the throat of the rumbling monster. The glow of lava appeared deep below us. It is an amazing sight to behold and stand on the edge of such power from below the crust of the earth.
Telica Volcano is one of the most active volcanoes in Nicaragua. Last February Telica Volcano had 12 explosions sending ash columns 1,000 meters above the crater. In May, it still showed signs of increased activity. Tonight the lava is simply glowing deep below the crater.
The sun would soon be setting so headed to the other side of the crater to watch it sun over the ocean.
Smoke from Telica in the sunset
As darkness descended we walked back to the crater’s edge to see if the lava glow would be even more prominent. It was about the same. We picked our way back down to the grassy section by the light of the moon. Our flashlights were off so that we did not alert any of the locals of our presence for safety reasons.
Sleeping under the stars
We pulled out our fleece jackets and donned our raincoats on top of them. Blowing up our travel pillows, we settled down on the grass to sleep. There we lay under the cloudy sky on the edge of the crater. A few times during the night rain threatened to descend, but it came only in waves of mist wafting by. Each time we tossed and turned we noted the progress of the little dipper toward the west showing us the passing of time. The gusts of wind were chilly and I began to shiver. A blanket or a tarp would have made this the perfect night.
We were both glad to hear Trin’s phone chime up an alarm at 5 AM. As soon as it chimed we were both up putting on our packs excited to get moving and warm up. We walked over to the large rock a few meters away to retrieve our bag of empty cans from the previous nights dinner. We had placed it under a rock away from our campsite. It was gone. We looked around but could not find it anywhere. I’m not sure what animal took it or if the same animal that came checking on us during the night.
We climbed to the crater once again for one last look into the mouth of Telica. Then we made our way to the monitoring station which was positioned high up on an outcrop near the crater. We ate breakfast while watching the sunrise.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
Strong gusts of wind are swirling through Leon, Nicaragua today. Mangoes blown out from the trees hit the metal roof with a loud bang and tumble noisily down into our yard. They are almost as loud as the cats at night running from rooftop to rooftop, sometimes squabbling, occasionally falling through into the homes below.
Picture of our roof taken from the surveillance camera. The one we reviewed to see who attacked Jonas (see prior post)
“How does a cat fall through the roof?” My mom asked.
Metal/tin roofs here are often pieced together. In some homes, this metal is the only thing between the living space and the sky. I can see the sunshine through the ceiling above our kitchen sink.
One afternoon while washing clothes a cat fell behind the basin from the ceiling. Normal life here.
The strong wind welcomed on wash day. Our hand-washed clothes dry out before lunch! Small things like this make me excited, especially after just emerging from the rainy season where it seems that nothing ever dries. It was a constant battle to keep out the musty smell and truly feel like our clothes were clean.
My first attempts failed
I had to learn to wash the clothes by hand here. Occasionally we stay in a home that has a washing machine, but so far only one place had a dryer. You wouldn’t think washing clothes by hand would be that difficult, however, I realized how inept I was at this after a trip to Haiti years ago. I joined some of the local ladies to help wash clothes. They redid every garment I had washed. Well, I tried!
I never hand-washed my delicates separately before this trip either – who has time for that? Isn’t that what the delicate bags are for? OK, I did hand wash some items on long road trips or backpacking trips, but they were never quite clean, just good enough. Now that hand-washing is a regular chore for us I googled for instructions. Most sites assume modern conveniences which are not available here. So if you ever find yourself here in Nicaragua needing to hand-wash your clothes here is how I did it, Nica style.
What you need:
Laundry detergent powder – ex. Espumil
Laundry bar
Large bin for water
Washing board
Dirty clothes (not shown below, you don’t need to see those)
Fill the large bin with enough water to cover the clothes, and add the detergent powder.
Swish it around with your hand until dissolved. I sometimes heat the water for this part, but it can be done with cold water.
Soak the clothes for 15-30 min. I generally soak for 30 minutes as it gives me more time to read a good book or take a Spanish lesson.
Step 2: Soap up the Clothes
Take out each article of clothing one by one and rub it with the laundry bar.
Pay attention to the armpits and other soiled areas. It is so hot here and sweat is inevitable so I generally rub the whole garment down.
Step 3: Rub the garment on the washing board
Rub and scrub! Our washing board here in Nicaragua is made of cement. It is a sink that was purposely not smoothed out when the concrete was poured so that it could be used for scrubbing. In the absence of a washboard, you can rub the garment against itself – grab the garment in two places and rub them together. You can do this methodically to the entire piece of clothing.
Step 4: Rinse
Fill the bin with clean water and rinse each garment.
Repeat as needed if the clothes still feel soapy.
Our open air kitchen. This is the sink where we wash dishes (on the left) and clothes (on the right). Sunlight streams in behind the sink, as well as cats when they fall short of jumping on our roof.
Step 5: Drying the clothes
Wring out every garment. I know some clothing care instructions say to never wring a garment, but it has to be done or it won’t dry. Damp clothes mold and then smell – eww.
Optionally, you can snap them to get a little more water out. Snapping clothes takes a little practice and I still get drenched when snapping the clothes. Roma, our host lady here in Nicaragua, showed me how to do it. Hold out the garment in front of you, arms forward as if you are checking out a shirt at a store. In a swift motion, raise it a few inches then quickly move your arms downward, flicking your wrist down at the tail end of the motion. This will cause the other end of the garment to snap and expel some water. Since we are in the dry season now I skip this step, but it is necessary during the rainy season.
Hang the clothes to dry on the line and hope it doesn’t rain before they dry. Many homes here in Nicaragua and Costa Rica have clotheslines that are under the overhang of the roof in the courtyards. Since rain is a daily occurrence during the rainy season this is necessary.
Our clothes hanging outside our bedroom door.
Inner Courtyard
Another awesome feature of most of the homes here is the inner courtyard. From the street, pedestrians only see a long wall of concrete. The color of the wall varies and the doors are often really cool, but every street is lined with block after block of walls. With no front yards, the only thing between most the wall and the busy street is a narrow uneven sidewalk.
Front doors are often left open during the day for a nice breeze, but security doors with metal bars remain closed. Through these metal bars, we are sometimes treated to a glimpse of beautiful courtyards inside. Behind these walls, many homeowners have created peaceful little paradises that one would never know existed from the outside. These courtyards are also where the clothes hang to dry, away from the dust in the streets.
Typical home fronts. Non typical empty street as it was Christmas morning
Thankful for Time
Are you thankful for your washing machine and dryer now? Oddly enough I’m enjoying this task. For years I have longed for more time, time to read a book, study a certain subject, or simply to catch up on everything that needs to be done. Finally, I have time. I still keep a “to do” list. I think it is part of my personality to keep a list. However, since leaving corporate and embarking on this nomadic lifestyle my “to do” list is reasonable. I can actually get everything on the list done and that feels really good.
Life here might take longer, but it is much less complicated. Time is the greatest luxury.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
Some say he is crazy, others say he is wise. He is a hermit known as the “rock man” and we were going to make a trek into the jungle to meet him.
We navigated the busy bus terminal of Leon, located north of the town in a densely packed market. The street was filled with vendors selling all kinds of products from shoes to padlocks, fish and food, and rocking chairs. Still, with all the people walking around on the street already filled with motorcycles and bicycle taxis, cars manage to drive through it, but very slowly.
LEAVING LEON
Finally arriving at the terminal, we ducked into an alley to enter the bus area. A local man told us in Spanish to always remember Leon and to come back soon. We agreed. Memories of the burning viejo, gigantonas, and even a bloody day would stay with us a long time. We found a home here in Leon with Manuel and Romy but it was time to move on.
Manuel and Romy made us feel at home with them while in Leon
THE NORTHERN HIGHLANDS
We took a minibus to Esteli followed by a chicken bus to the small town of Somoto. This journey took us up to the northern highlands of Nicaragua where the air is cool and towns are surrounded by mountains, where men have their shoes polished at a street corner, and the internet cafes have lost a large part of their clientele to the free wifi in the central park where the younger generation hang out, their faces illuminated by their phones in the cold evenings.
For the first time in months, we pull out our jackets from the bottom of our backpacks.
SOMOTO CANYON
Early the next morning we took a chicken bus toward the Honduras border and alighted at the bridge over Rio Tapacali at La Playa. We would be doing a self-guided trek of Somoto Canyon, passing up on the $35-per-person guided tour. Thanks to the Travel Pixelz blog.
We climbed over the railing and made our way down to the water following it for a while as the cliffs beside us began to close in.
We crossed the river many times to follow a small path that crisscrossed back and forth wherever there was a ledge to walk on. Horses and cows grazed by the river bank. At some point, the ledge disappeared altogether and the river was flanked by a cliff on each side. Swimming through the middle was the only option to get to the next section of the trail.
We reached a section where a boulder blocked the path completely and we had to climb up and jump into the water on the other side.
There were multiple places along the way to climb high and jump into the deep water
There was a lot of swimming from this point onwards, and some dramatic vertical cliffs.
At the other end of the canyon, we walked towards the Panamerican highway and caught a chicken bus back to the town of Somoto. Back in the hotel, there was no water and we found out that the power had been out for most of the day.
It was a nationwide power outage.
We walked through the dark streets to buy some drinking water at Pali. The owner of the hotel used to live in New Jersey and he was friendly and helpful. He had a cute dog named Peluche, which means stuffed toy in Spanish.
Peluche
The following morning, we boarded the chicken bus headed back to Esteli where we would take a bus south out of town to begin a trek into the jungle looking for the rock man.
THE HERMIT OF THE ROCKS
Alberto Gutiérrez is a hermit who left civilization almost 40 years ago and began carving stone in the side of the mountain in the jungle of Tisey. We took an early morning bus to San Nicolas and got off at El Rancho then started walking towards El Jalacate. The plan was to hitch rides for as much of the way as we could but there were no vehicles going that way. Instead, we hiked through a scenic mountain road and it was beautiful.
Overlooking the valley on the way to Alberto’s home
Eventfully, we reached the sign for El Jalacate and went down a path toward an open farmland down a hill through a couple of gates. We found Alberto sitting by the stoop of his 10×5 ft shack tinkling with some wire and a rock. He looked exactly as we’ve seen him in pictures, stark white mustache, eyebrows and afro-like hair. His smile encompassed his face. He kind of looks like what Wolverine’s dad would have looked like.
Alberto’s home
ALBERTO’S WORLD
He waved us over and invited us to sit with him a bit. We signed our names in his notebook. He said he already has 17 notebooks filled with guest names. We talked a bit then he showed us the path to his rock garden. At first, we saw a few rocks with pictures carved into them among the garden of coffee plants and banana trees.
Alberto’s art
The path then began to ascend past pineapple bushes and out onto a ledge on the side of a mountain overlooking the valley. To our right, the entire side of the stone mountain was carved into beautiful scenes.
Details in the rock by Alberto
Elephants and snakes and pictures depicting Nicaraguan history covered the surface. I was in awe as we walked along the ledge and took in the expanse of his artwork.
Alberto’s rock carvings
Alberto is over 80 years old and lives off the land. He grows coffee, bananas, pineapple, and oranges. The orange we were given was absolutely delicious as it had been ripened on the tree. He joined us back in the garden and began to point out carvings and explain the meaning. We caught most of what he was saying, but his passion for his work was inspiring. He loves what he does and he loves his plants.
Alberto offering us some coffee beans
HITCHHIKING BACK TO ESTELI
After saying our goodbye we began our long trek back to Esteli. After a couple of miles, we heard a lone vehicle headed our direction. It was a truck so we stuck out our thumbs. The driver pulled over and we climbed into the back. We enjoyed the rest of the way back to Esteli with his cinnamon colored dog.
Hitching a ride with a friendly dog
Alberto is not easy to find but the trek was beautiful and it was an awesome visit. One of the highlights of my time here in Nicaragua. It was totally worth the hike.
BlueDoor Best Deal:
Skipping the guided canyon tour and doing the trek yourself. Cost: 14 Cordobas roundtrip chicken bus fare from the town of Somoto, and some food and water. You must be able to swim a few hundred feet at a stretch. Or bring a life jacket or flotation device.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
A chicken bus is an old retired US School bus used in Central America for public transportation. It is often painted with many vibrant colors and religious emblems. Racks have been added to store luggage on the top of the bus and inside above the heads of the passengers. Anything from produce to beds get thrown on top of the bus and secured down for the ride.
Body parts hang out
Unlike in the US, maximum capacity here is only reached when no more bodies can be squeezed into the aisle or stairwell of the bus. We have seen these buses flying by with body parts hanging out of windows and doors due to limited space to keep them inside, not unlike a truck transporting live poultry. This could well be the reason for the moniker although there is no established origin of its nomenclature.
Don’t forget the livestock
We also ride with the occasional livestock. Just yesterday there was a chicken in the seat behind me, but she kept quiet for the ride, unlike their endless chatter that we have had the dubious pleasure of experiencing, usually at 4 AM. It’s yet another possible reason for the nickname, the need for which only affects foreigners. The locals just call them autobus or bus, oddly enough.
The luggage rack on the inside of the bus is made of pipes so on the occasion when we put our packs on the luggage rack in the bus we make sure they are always positioned so that we have a clear view of the entire pack and can see any wandering hands trying to probe their pockets.
We like chicken buses because they are so cheap. They also allow us to experience how the locals roll, providing us a glimpse of one aspect of their lifestyle. This is a cultural experience that could range from being pleasant to potentially insane and dangerous. Fortunately, we have managed to stay safe by taking precautions and being vigilant.
The Crazy Ride
The craziest ride so far was on our way to Matagalpa from Jinotega. Everyone made a mad dash to get on the bus to be one of the bodies squeezed in for a ride. We made it onto the bus and were standing in the aisle as every seat was occupied. The bodies were close pressing in on every side when I felt it.
The man with the Cheerios shirt, the logo slightly off-center, probably sent here when it didn’t pass inspection, had his hand searching for my pocket and trying to unzip my bag. I told him no and shoved him hard as I squeezed by down the crowded aisle of the bus.
I found out later that, at the same time, someone was also exploring Trin’s pockets. Thankfully there is nothing of value in our open pockets and all the important zippers on our backpack are locked with padlocks. The one item in my pocket was a napkin I had just blown my nose into. I was hoping he’d get that.
Ejected from the bus
The bus man insisted that we put our packs in the overhead rack or on top of the bus. We said no. We do not let our packs out of our sight and we never put them on the roof. Normally, saying no is enough and they leave us alone but this guy was persistent. If we took off our packs they could squeeze in two more bodies. They would also have better access to our pockets. So we got off the bus to wait for the next one.
A half hour later the next bus to Matagalpa pulled up. Same as before, everyone crowded to the curb. This time I was a bit luckier as the rear door stopped near me. I joined the shove and was able to grab a seat in the back. I took up the whole seat and waited for Trin to shove his way on. After he joined me, we settled in with our packs on our laps. They continued to pack people in, filling every crevice.
When the bus began to move forward Trin and I looked at each other and started laughing. We had squeezed our way in Nica style. “That’s how it’s done,” we said to each other with mock bravado.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
I am learning more every day that we need a whole lot less than we think we need. I’m also humbled by the overabundance of what we actually have. We met many wonderful people this past week as we worked in the little mountain town of Waslala.
The church from Louisiana sent dresses for the little girls. This girl hugged me the first day and followed me around to a couple of the homes in this area. On the third day she proudly showed me her new dress.
REPLACING HOMES OF PLASTIC
I’ll never forget the tiny four-foot grandma who stood dwarfed beside Trinity with her arms waving, speaking so excitedly that we could only catch a few words. Her communication however was clear that she was very happy almost to tears. She and her extended family of 8 had been living in a drafty shack with plastic bags for siding. We were blessed to be able to join a team who built her a home this week.
The beautiful grandma now owns a new home.
We met Joseph this past December. He had moved his family to Nicaragua two years ago to become a missionary. He told us about a small team coming from Louisiana who planned to build 8 homes in Waslala in a week. Joseph invited us to join. I have been excited and looking forward to this week since then.
Part of the team in the back of a pickup headed to the worksite. Joseph the missionary is in the center. Lyle on the right in the front I fell in love with the first day when he pulled out a bag of dog bones for the strays. I’ve also fallen in love with a few stray dogs here.
The group flew into Managua on Saturday afternoon and picked us up in Matagalpa. From there it was a long five-hour ride to Waslala, the last hour and a half was on a dusty, rutted road that twisted through the mountains. We checked into the hotel and set our alarms for bright and early the next morning.
The truck could not always make it to the home site. For this home, we carried all of the construction material and tools across this little bridge and up a little hill to the home site.
THE BUILDING PROCESS
In the morning we all headed over to the basketball court where the purlins, C bars, and metal sheets would be cut for the 8 homes. The team from Louisiana was hardworking but was also a riot to hang out with. Many of them have done this trip multiple times already and they knew the building process.
Trin installing insulation
Soon the posts were ready and the group was split into three teams. One team plotted the build site, dug out the holes for the post, and erected the posts. The second team then frames the roof and installs the front/back sidings and roof. The third team finishes up with the sides, windows, and the door.
A neighbor to one of the homes we built
We were on the second team and we soon got into a groove and we kept trying to outdo our own time for each house. I got to use a nibbler. This was my first experience with metal construction so it was a lot of fun to use a new tool and learn a bit about metal construction.
Safety team. Cover your eyes. We make do with what we have.
A WARM WELCOME
On the second evening, Sunday night, we attended service at the church that we were working with. When we arrived, they had a welcoming procession for us. They formed two lines flanking the aisle of the church and as soon as we entered they broke into applause. It was unexpected and I was touched and humbled that God allowed us to do His work.
They began playing the Nicaraguan national anthem. I was taken off guard when they followed it with our national anthem. I was greatly touched and teared up with my hand over my heart.
A washroom for clothes
THE DUCK HUNTERS
Other evenings I would stay up and listen to the duck hunting stories of a few of the men who have been friends seemingly forever. They were a riot and fun to hang out with.
The team got a huge kick out of the bags of coke.
IN NEED OF A HOME
The lots we were building on were very small. Some of them barely gave us enough room to squeeze around them or get leverage to drill in the screws of the siding. But the new homes would keep the families dry and secure. We also added insulation along with a whirlybird on top to help keep the heat down inside the home.
Holding the keys to her new home
While my definition of “need” gets smaller all the time, there is a level of “want” that I maintain above my needs. I don’t want to live in plastic sheeting house or in the hostel we once checked out that had mold coating the sheets. Thankfully by the grace of God, I don’t have to live with only the most basic needs. I count my blessings every day.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
“You will get sick,” they said.
“Last year, one of the little boats capsized and a lot of people died,” one gentleman told me the morning we were leaving Granada.
Others at that hostel suggested that we really should fly to our destination. They’ve heard too many horror stories about the sea journey. Many of the bloggers who traveled there also wrote horrific stories about the journey.
We were headed to the Corn Islands, a tiny duo of island paradise off the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua. There is a big island and a small one, creatively named Big Corn and Little Corn. Many choose to fly to Big Corn, a flight that gets you there in an hour and a half. But if you want to do it on the cheap then it’s a series of bus and boat rides that take at least 13 hours. Ominous. We chose this option.
On Tuesday morning, we left not-so-blog-post-worthy Granada, of which we shall write no blog post if only to use this pretty picture and a couple of BlueDoor BestDeals at the bottom of this post.
Managua to El Rama
We arrived at blah Managua and bought bus tickets to El Rama right away at the Terminal Ivan Montenegro. We heard they sometimes sell out. Since the bus would not leave until 9 PM that evening we had the day to wander around Managua and also buy food supplies from Pali.
Everyone assured us we would get sick on the boats, so we ate very light meals. We made sure we were back at the bus station around 5:30 PM before it got dark as the station was not in the safest part of town. The bus left on time and thankfully the seats were not just school bus seats but something a bit taller and more comfortable so we were able to sleep a bit on the way to El Rama where we arrived at 3 AM.
El Rama to Bluefields
At El Rama, we stood in line again to get a boat number that would head out at 6 AM for Bluefields.
The overcrowded riverboat. The little boy in front was cold so he covered his head with his sister’s shirt.
Everyone was handed a life jacket and we all put them on. We boarded the high-speed panga, a small motorboat that had six rows of seats. They packed as many people as would fit into each then we headed out for a two-hour river ride.
It rained a couple of times during this ride. We had to pull a large tarp over our heads and we hunkered down, the sound of the engine overpowered by the rain pelting the plastic.
Trin under the tarp on the riverboat
Just emerging from the plastic after the rain
Bluefields to Big Corn
We arrived in Bluefields about an hour before the ferry would leave for Big Corn. Once again the boat was overfilled and many people had to ride the journey outside the cabin where they would be soaked by the waves and baked by the sun.
Big Corn Island: The ferry that brought us 45 miles across the open sea from the mainland. The panga boat that would take us to Little Corn is in the foreground.
We went into the cabin as soon as we boarded only to find it completely filled already. We stood in the aisle at the very back hoping to score a seat. Thankfully we did, even if it was a very tight squeeze as this ride would last six hours. They handed out life jackets and plastic puke bags, many of them would be used before the arrival at Big Corn. We hoped that being in the cabin would not be a bad idea if the sick smell got too bad.
The small cabin inside the ferry from the mainland to Big Corn Island
For good measure, we took some Dramamine that was given to us by one of the missionaries when we built homes for the poor people in Waslala. I really did not want to know today if this kind of ride would make us sick. The motion sickness medicine did make us drowsy which was great as the six hours didn’t seem quite as long.
The sea was rough and made for a rocky ferry ride, but our stomachs held and we eventually made it to the Big Corn Island. From there we immediately hopped on to the final panga ride to Little Corn.
Big Corn to Little Corn
This final leg was short, a half-hour, but it was not sweet. The ride would take us across the open sea where last year, in this very same route, one of the pangas capsized and many of the patrons died. We hit a rain squall on the way to the island and the boat jumped around trying to stay afloat.
Small panga while the sun was out.
Since you are reading this you know we arrived at Little Corn Island. We got a room at Shell Hostal. The owner, Evaristo Gomez, is a bit of a character. He talked non-stop in a peculiar English derivative that had an island tone and cadence. Not creole. A dedication in one of the doors described him as a man who can speak five languages within one sentence. It sounded exactly like that. Still, we could make out much of what he said.
Not so little things in Little Corn
Over our time here Senior Gomez would give us a full history lesson from the perspective of one who lived it. The last few decades were difficult and sometimes horrific here in Nicaragua. Those who are willing to talk about their experience tell a much different story than that written in the museum of the Sandinistas, the current rulers.
Senior Evaristo Gomez
It is also interesting to hear about America from the eyes of the rest of the world. They speak of hurricanes that devastated entire villages and Americans and Canadians who came and helped them rebuild. They speak of oppression by conquering countries and the Americans who came to help them stop the oppression.
Over the next two days, we walked around the entire island of Little Corn. It boasts beautiful ocean views and an awesome swimming beach on the north end of the island near the Yemaya resort. Our hike around the north end required quite a bit of navigation through rocks in the surf to get around small cliffs and rocky shores, but it was a beautiful hike and the water was very clear in most places.
This journey to Little Corn Island was long and not all of it was pleasant, but it was worth the reward at the end.
Best Blue Door Deals
Little Corn Island
Enjoying the well-maintained turquoise beach area at Yemaya without paying the $300 per night accommodation, just walk up and enjoy the ocean. Also, the beach right next to the resort is just as nice.
Granada
Hostal San Jorge – best value lodging, excellent kitchen and common areas, and a pool to boot at $12 a night for double;
Laguna de Apoyo day trip offered by The Bearded Monkey, $2 cheaper than any of the other hostels and tour companies.
Laguna de Apoyo, a lake in a volcanic crater. Definitely worth a day trip
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
The 1:30 PM panga boat that goes back to Big Corn Island was already full by the time we got to the ticket lady at the head of the slow-moving line. The ticket lady handed us our tickets as the boat kicked off the dock and sped away. We stood by the dock with about ten other people, feeling like we were stranded on Little Corn Island. The ticket lady told us to wait for the next boat which turned out to be the same panga boat that came back after an hour for a second trip to Big Corn.
Panga ride to Big Corn Island
HOSPEDAJE LA ROTONDA
A half-hour boat ride later we arrived in Big Corn and got a room at the Hospedaje La Rotunda for the week. I think we got a great deal and the owner is really nice. She is a strong woman who keeps this hostel running on an otherwise slow island where things take a while to get done.
We met Omar and Viky, for the second time it turned out, at the terrace of the hostel. They had stayed in the same hostel where we stayed in Granada the first night that we were there. We talked for a bit, the usual questions in the travel circle, how long have you been on the road, where are you headed next, and so on. They are easygoing and have absolutely no pretensions whatsoever. We liked them right away.
FISH, AND NEW FRIENDS
The next evening we grilled some fish that we had bought from the fish market. Omar and Viky were so excited because fish is very expensive in Sardinia where they live. While we were eating and enjoying our conversation, a lady from Catalonia joined us. Her name was Roser and she was staying in a very tiny room across the compound where the light bulb had to be tightened to turn the light on, and loosened to turn it off. She didn’t mind because the room was so cheap and she did not seem to be bothered by much. She was accepting of other people and cultures without reservation.
We chatted for a while and got to know them a little bit more. Omar and Viky work as masseuses at a resort. They work for half the year and then travel for about five months. Roser is a shepherd. I can’t say I’ve ever met one before. She seemed well read and very knowledgeable about many things. The conversation flowed easily and we talked about travel and politics and, oddly so, the qualifications required to work in the adult film industry.
IN SEARCH OF A PYRAMID
“So, tell me about this pyramid we are going to,” Omar said to me the next morning, as we strolled along the road that paralleled the airport runway.
We had just walked across the local airport runway where I asked everyone to walk single file so I could take this Abbey Road parody.
Bonnie, Viky, Omar, and Roser attempting to recreate Abbey Road
“It’s some sort of artwork where they try to fit an imaginary cube within the earth, and this pyramid is one of the corners of that cube,” I said to him. English is not his primary language, and I don’t think he got what I was trying to say.
The intense Caribbean sun was beating down on all five of us. We walked at a leisurely pace to minimize the heat that is the byproduct of heightened physical activity. Besides, there really was no need to hurry. We were lounging on the terrace of La Rotunda after breakfast that morning and just decided to go see this pyramid. That became the goal for the day. Not a long list of things, just this one thing to accomplish for the day.
One Canadian lady who stayed in the hostel made this observation the other night, that during travel, sometimes there is only one thing on our list to do for the day. This has been true for most days for Bonnie and me. Long-term travel has simplified our daily life into this simple rigor.
We walked along a stretch of road that gave us a nice view of the Big Corn Island coast. It is such a pretty island that you don’t have to walk far to see a beautiful sight, be it a beach, a mountain view, or just the simple joy of seeing two kid goats playing in the meadow.
Eventually, a playground appeared on our left and in the middle of which sat a yellow pyramid.
SOUL OF THE WORLD
“I think that’s it,” I told everyone.
We walked across the playground to the pyramid. It was made of cement and painted yellow. If you allow yourself to buy into the concept, you could imagine that this is a corner of a humongous cube. To figure out a way to rotate that imaginary cube such that the corners or vertices of the cube all emerge on land instead of the sea is pretty cool.
Omar was not so impressed. “How much did we pay for this tour?” he joked.
I don’t blame him. It’s a cool concept, yet aside from this corporeal pyramid, the whole thing is pretty platonic.
There was a set of swings next to the pyramid and we sat and swayed on it for a while. We talked about how long it had been since we sat on a swing, the Nicaraguan health care, how easy it is to buy antibiotics and painkillers over the counter, and how Roser preferred not to use a nebulizer for her asthma.
A CHILDHOOD RELAPSE
After a while, we decided to move on and we started to go back to the road. There was something on the ground that caught my eye. I bent down to pick it up. It was a slingshot, one of those old-fashioned ones constructed out of a Y from a branch of a tree. I shot pebbles with it. Omar and Roser wanted to try it. Apparently, neither of them had used a slingshot before and Bonnie and I showed them how.
At that moment, the yellow pyramid did not seem to matter anymore. We simply enjoyed this temporary relapse to childhood.
THAT’S REALLY ALL YOU NEED
We took a dirt path that led to the beach but halfway there we saw a tiny blue house that could not have been more than 10 square feet. It had solar panels on the roof and a porch with a gorgeous ocean view. There was a hammock on the back. It was a cool house.
“That’s really all you need,” somebody said. Everyone concurred.
The clear turquoise water at Arenas beach is delightful. The waves are very subtle and barely disturb the white sand beach. This is the best beach in Nicaragua to me. We reached the beach, quickly lost our shirts, dumped our packs, and jumped into the water. It was just the right cool temperature for our overheating bodies.
Arenas/Picnic Beach
The next day Bonnie and I headed out to explore the northern side of the island. We walked along Via Principal hoping to catch the island’s only bus that goes around every half hour or so. There was a nice breeze and we ended up skipping the bus and just walking along the beach for most of the way.
We stepped into Island Bakery and Sweets for a snack. This was the first of two goals for the day (we were overachievers). Bonnie tried the lemon pie and I had a chocolate cake. It’s one of those little things that make life on the road worth it – a special treat, a cone of ice cream, a free ride, a slice of cake. It doesn’t take much. We also tried the sorrel drink, a homemade Jamaican beverage made from the flower of a Roselle plant.
MT. PLEASANT
The highest point in the 4 square mile area of Big Corn Island is Mt. Pleasant at 371 feet. It can be reached via a road just off Casa Canada. The road ends at a school halfway up the hill, then continues to the top as a double-track. At the summit, we climbed up a tower which gave us a beautiful vantage point to see most of the island.
On the way back to the hotel, we made a detour to take a dip at Arenas Beach once again. We weaved in the water and found Roser hanging out there as well. We talked to her for a while about Catalonia culture, food, and a bit of her personal life.
FISH AND GOODBYES
Back in the hostel, we prepared our final dinner with Omar and Viky. We cooked fish that we had purchased from Pasenic, one of the local seafood suppliers, and enjoyed the meal with some Toñas. We talked some more about travels and travel destinations. The more travelers we meet the more destinations we discover are waiting out there, and our list of destinations continues to grow. We talked about family, work, dreams and countries and governments until late into the night.
In the morning we said our goodbyes. Omar and Viky were headed to Little Corn while Roser was going to explore further south towards Rio San Juan. We exchanged information and promised to meet if we ever get to each other’s part of the world.
Turns out not where but who you’re with that really matters.
We still have a day left in Big Corn but already it has provided us a memorable experience. The island provides a backdrop for people’s lives to intertwine and create moments that, though ephemeral, enriches our lives with the lasting memories that they provide. In the end, I think that what we remember most are the people, while the island fades in the background.
Perhaps this is true for any place we go to, and each of our experiences is a unique combination of the interactions we have with the people there, more than the attractions that the place has. I am reminded of a line from Dave Matthews Band: Turns out not where but who you’re with that really matters.
Trin, Bonnie, Omar, and Viky with the breadfruit they gave us the night before they left.
Maybe when Roser returns home she will have 40 goats instead of the 20 she left behind who were all pregnant. Maybe Omar and Viky’s dream to put up a juice bar will come to fruition in the next couple of years and we would be able to walk up to the counter to find them there. Who knows? After a few days here Big Corn Island doesn’t seem so big. I have started to recognize most of the faces that I meet. Maybe the world is not so big either.
BlueDoors Best Deal:
Arenas Beach/Picnic Beach – This is our favorite beach in Nicaragua. Clean crystal waters, subtle waves. Free to swim.
Nicaragua
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
The bike slid and I saw it all happen in slow motion. Our bodies approached the dusty rocky road surface and I knew that we would lose a bit of skin. Before I could think any further, we got really intimate with the beautiful island of Ometepe, skin to gravel.
Ometepe Island
Ometepe is an island is composed of two beautiful volcanoes in the middle of the vast Nicaragua lake. At just over 3,000 square miles, Lake Nicaragua is the largest lake in Central America. Standing on the eastern side of the island looking out into the water could not see land on the horizon, much like looking out over the ocean.
Volcan Concepción, the larger of the two volcanoes, is almost a perfect cone with three sides covered in lush vegetation. The smaller volcano, Volcan Maderas, seemingly changes shape as we rode around it. It was beautiful to watch. Ometepe is the only place in Nicaragua where it is safe to drink tap water. It is also the only place in Nicaragua where we have seen wildlife in the jungle.
Capuchin Monkey on Ometepe, Nicaragua Photo Credit: Alvaro Martin Azuaga
We rented a moped for the day to drive to take in the sights. Our planned path looked like a figure 8 that followed around the two volcano island. Alvaro and Perrine, a couple we met the day before, joined us for the ride. Alvaro is from Spain and Perrine is from Belgium and they have been traveling for a year.
Stopped for lunch with Alvaro and Perrine. We were served huge portions and it was very good.
Renting Mopeds
We rented the mopeds from Charlie, the owner of the hostel where we were staying. He told us that the mopeds should have no problems going around both volcanoes. He wove his hand dismissively as if asking about road conditions was silly. His mopeds would have no issues with gravel roads.
Photo credit: Perrine Huyghe
I love the feeling of riding bicycles and motorcycles. A moped was close enough for me, especially for this tiny island. The wind gushing by feels like freedom. The looming figure of Volcan Concepcion with its changing wisps of clouds clinging to the top was a constant sight to our right. Soon we were on the far side of the volcano where the road turned to dirt. Large rocks jutting from the ground and ruts decorate much of the road.
Volcan Concepcion
The Accidents
On one particular downhill, we hit a sandpit. The bike began to slide and the front tire hit a rock. The bike jackknifed and spewed us onto the ground. Thankfully we were going slow enough to avoid major injury. I stood and then ran over to Trin. He assured me that he was fine but I saw a lot of blood on his leg.
Alvaro and Perrine were quickly catching up. We didn’t want them trying to stop in the sand and ending up in the same predicament. So we hopped back on the bike quickly and continue down the road. We were a bit more cautious however going forward.
Click here only if you want to see why Trins leg was bloody.
When we finally arrived in the town of Altagracia we took a look at Trin’s leg and realized we needed to get his knee cleaned and treated. We did not know it then, but he should have gotten stitches. His knee looked like raw meat. The pharmacy offered us iodine when we asked for antibiotics. We cleaned the wound and continued to San Domingo beach.
San Domingo is said to be the best beach on the island. We went for a swim. Trin hoped to get more of the dirt out of his wounds. It was shallow for quite a ways and the waves were calm. It made for a nice swim on a decent beach.
Swimming in Lake Nicaragua with Perrine and Alvaro.
The Second Accident
Halfway around the second volcano, we were following Alvaro and Perrine on a rough downhill when they hit a rock and we helplessly watched as their bike toppled over. We stopped and I rushed down the hill to try to help. Alvaro had a large wound on his ankle and Perrine banged up her knee. We offered them some of our newly acquired iodine.
We began to wonder why Charlie said these roads were okay. Even with a lot of care, mopeds cannot handle the conditions of this road no matter how good the driver may be. Then we began to wonder if this was a scheme. The bikes were beaten up as if they had skidded across these gravel roads far too many times. We wondered how much he would try to collect from each of us for damages. Damages that he obviously never fixed.
We stopped at a local food stand for a break. The local told us that it was not uncommon to see bruised and wounded people on mopeds.
The sky treated us to a beautiful sunset on the way home. We stopped at a park near the pier for a beer. We watched the sunset beyond the boats and discussed travels and blogging. Alvaro and Perrine both maintain blogs. Perrine’s is named Verwonderweg and Alvaro’s is City Collections both have great pictures of the destinations they have visited.
Ometepe Port on Lake Nicaragua Photo credit: Perrine & Alvaro
Attending to wounds
Back at the hostel, we spoke with Peter, another traveler who also rented a moped that day. He is an avid Harley rider and said that these road conditions were too rugged for mopeds. He tended to both Trin’s and Alvaro’s wounds. Peter told Trin that he must go see the doctor the next day and not wait. Peter was kind and expressive. It’s a shame that I could not speak French (the only language he spoke). I would have loved to talk to him more.
Peter treating Trins wound. We used an iPhone flashlight for light.
Charlie and his goons
Charlie and his goons showed up to pick up the mopeds. After seeing the scratches on the fender he demanded a large sum of money. He launched into a spiel telling us that he would protect us from the actual bike owners. Charlie assured us that he was only going to charge us a small amount for the damage because we were staying at his place. It all sounded like a load of bullcrap, practiced and familiar.
I think the worst part is that he cared little about anyone getting injured. We were willing to pay a fair price for the damages even though we felt he purposely assured us that the roads were fine. We were determined not to pay the exorbitant price he was asking. I told him that we would pay him in the morning after we went to the ATM. We wanted time to determine a fair price.
“No, tonight” he yelled. He was adamant about getting the payment that evening. When he offered to drive us to the ATM it was more like a threat. There was no way we were going to let this gangster force us to our ATM in the middle of the night in Nicaragua. Not going to happen.
Nicaragua has beautiful money
Trin and I left to discuss privately what we should. I got out some money – what we thought was a fair price in Nicaragua and took it back outside.
“If you want the payment tonight this is all we have on us. Take it or leave it.”
He got angry, yelled, hemmed, and hawed but we stood our ground. He finally took it and left.
Beautiful Island
After dinner, we walked into the town center of Moyogalpa. Alvaro and Perrine have not yet tried Flor de Caña, our favorite Nicaraguan spirit, so we went looking for it. It was late and the Pali was already closed but we found a convenience store next to the Petronic that sells liquor. We bought a 5-year-old Flor de Caña, coke, and ice. We enjoyed the rest of our evening on the lawn chairs outside our hostel.
Despite the mishap and what we felt was a dishonest play by our hostel owner we really enjoyed the island. It seems to have the healthiest environment in all of Nicaragua. The domestic animals, most of them seemingly free-range are healthy and happy.
Hogs, dogs, horses, and cattle all wandered around with a good amount of meat on their bones. We enjoyed the small island atmosphere where everyone smiled and waved as we drove or walked by.
Content healthy pigs and chickens lay where they wished on Ometepe
Rivas
Back in the mainland, in the town of Rivas, we went to the Gaspar Garcia Laviana Hospital to have the wound on Trin’s knee checked out. We were hesitant to go but it was an interesting experience. People filed in and out of the waiting room who appeared to be in various stages of pain. I stood by the open window for a breeze and smelled sewage wafting through. We could see the intensive care unit behind the reception desk. Curtains hung askew in leu of doors for each room.
After being ushered in to see the doctor Trin was instructed to sit on the bed while the doctor scrubbed his wound clean. She rinsed off her hands in the large stained sink nearby and rummaged through the cupboards for supplies.
She pulled a metal tin from the cupboard and fished around for some gauze. After pouring disinfectant on the gauze she scrubbed Trins knee.
“You should have gotten stitches, but it is too late now.” The accident was two days prior. Stitches should be sown in within eight hours.
After cleaning and dressing the wound she gave Trin oral antibiotics and painkillers along with a prescription for something to clean the wound ourselves each day. The entire bill, medications included, was $1 USD.
This was our last day in Nicaragua. Despite the poverty and lack of resources the people of Nicaragua cared. There are always some in every culture who take advantage of others, but they are the minority. We felt safe most of the time in this country.
Blue Door Best Deal:
The bus ride from the Rivas bus station to the San Jorge port, and vice versa. Cost: 7 Cordobas. It is a yellow short school bus that you can catch along 7ma Calle NE, starting near the bus terminal. The alternative is a shared taxi (collectivo) that will cost at least 25 Cordobas.
Festive celebrations fill December in Nicaragua, home to the largest cathedral in all of Central America. Nica is also home to the beautiful Corn Islands.
The look of hope in her eyes broke my heart. Just a moment ago she lay there sleeping in the dust. A tan coat stretched over her hip bones and ribs. Ears twitched as she dreamt. I waited on the bench nearby till she opened her eyes. She looked around sadly till I moved toward her. She saw the bag in my hand and immediately stood taking a step toward me. The look in her face as she met my eyes was one of hope, hope that someone had seen her. I knelt down and turned out the bits of chicken and bones left over from dinner wishing I had more. Soon she was all consumed in the measly gift offered. I walked away promising myself to be back tomorrow with more.
The stray in Leon who inspired this post.
There are many stray, emaciated dogs here. Most of them humble and sad. They lay sometimes in the middle of the sidewalk not moving as we walk by knowing that they are invisible. They do not approach for a loving pat on the head. The dogs walk around resigned to their lot. They longingly watch if someone is eating, but aggression seems to be something long forgotten, left behind with any hope of home.
She longingly watched us eating lunch
THE HAPPY DOG IN SAN JUAN DEL SUR
There was one exception we met in San Juan del Sur, where I almost got mugged. This dog ran up to us and rubbed up against our legs and stuck out her head for a pat. Then she pranced around us as if to say “I’m so cute you love me, everybody loves me”. She was right, she was cute and we did love her. Just couldn’t help the smile all her happiness brought to us. But she was an exception. My guess is that she did have someone who loved her back home, and that love passed to us giving us a bright spot to our afternoon.
The happy dog of San Juan Del Sur
HAPPY DOGS IN OMETEPE
As we traveled through Nicaragua, the dogs in each town were a telling sign. The cleaner and happier the people in the town were, the happier the dogs also seemed to be. Ometepe, the only place in Nicaragua with clean water and a healthy environment, had the happiest dogs we saw in all of Nicaragua.
One of the healthier, happier strays from the town of Somoto. A beautiful clean mountain town in Northern Nicaragua. This stray enjoyed my piece of pizza.
It seems that the way dependent beings around us are treated directly reflects – maybe even is a cause of – the quality of our lives.
Rockets exploding from the bull running toward us.
Trin, Bonnie, Tania, and Jose
Trin trying to break the pinata
The string of fire bombs headed our way
Trin, trying on the bull before it was lit.
Trin jumping as a rocket spins beneath his feet
Burning the Viejo, saying goodbye to 2016
Manuel and Romy made us feel at home with them while in Leon
There were multiple places along the way to climb high and jump into the deep water
Peluche
Overlooking the valley on the way to Alberto’s home
Alberto’s home
Alberto’s art
Details in the rock by Alberto
Alberto’s rock carvings
Alberto offering us some coffee beans
Hitching a ride with a friendly dog
The church from Louisiana sent dresses for the little girls. This girl hugged me the first day and followed me around to a couple of the homes in this area. On the third day she proudly showed me her new dress.
The beautiful grandma now owns a new home.
Part of the team in the back of a pickup headed to the worksite. Joseph the missionary is in the center. Lyle on the right in the front I fell in love with the first day when he pulled out a bag of dog bones for the strays. I’ve also fallen in love with a few stray dogs here.
The truck could not always make it to the home site. For this home, we carried all of the construction material and tools across this little bridge and up a little hill to the home site.
Trin installing insulation
A neighbor to one of the homes we built
Safety team. Cover your eyes. We make do with what we have.
A washroom for clothes
The team got a huge kick out of the bags of coke.
Holding the keys to her new home
The stray in Leon who inspired this post.
She longingly watched us eating lunch
The happy dog of San Juan Del Sur
One of the healthier, happier strays from the town of Somoto. A beautiful clean mountain town in Northern Nicaragua. This stray enjoyed my piece of pizza.