Bliss

It has been a busy last couple days, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. My weekends have become consumed with soccer and to be honest I have had enough of it. I love it, and I love being able to be busy with my youth groups, but it gets to be a little much when I find myself spending all weekend on the soccer field and walking back and forth from there three times a day. The basic schedule is that Saturdays are reserved for my youth group league and on Sunday I play with my adult league.

The big even this weekend was that I started working on forming a woman’s team. If I am so adamant about combating machismo in the community, why am I only working with the boys? Like all things there are two sides to each story and I need to make it socially accept o get the girls out of the kitchen and let them play as well. This wasn’t even my idea to start with. One day I was just sitting in my house doing Soduku when a group of girls came by and told me they wanted me to coordinate a team. Usually I am reluctant when presented an idea because they usually end in the same manner; the interested party loses interest. To put them to the test I told them to gather me a list of names of players and we would take it from there. Well the next day I had 15 girls at my doorstep ready to play and I guess that was the message that this was really feasible. Later in the week I was in Susuli, which is a community 2hrs away from my town and I was asked by the girls there about a soccer game this weekend. I guess news spreads quickly and before I knew it I had my first girl’s game organized of San Dionisio vs. Susuli. Just to fast-forward a bit, Susuli never showed this weekend which was no big surprise. However, my 15 girls from San Dionisio did! I was excited to see them make an appearance at the field, but I had no other girls team. I did however have a league game set-up of my boys team playing against one of the local barrios. I called it an exhibition game, but I organized two games of the girls against the boys. It was a slaughter, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and it got the girls interested enough to want to play again and hopefully spread the word to Susuli to get their act together.

This Saturday was one instance of my bliss. It is rewarding to see your projects actually come together and to see that my small little idea of having a soccer team has turned into a flourishing league. I am now directly responsible for over 70 kids and the list seems to be growing. Word seems to be spreading that I can guarantee games and we are much more organized than any attempt in the past. Thanks to my basic organization, I seem to encouraging others to follow in my footsteps and I no longer get lone kids asking to join, but fully rostered teams soliciting to join.

The last bit of my joy has to do with today. No, it does not have to do with soccer. I played horrible with my team today and I voluntarily substituted out of the game in the first 30 minutes. That was the downside, but it only accentuated the positive aspects of the day. Take my day for example. I woke-up late, 7am to not the blaring music of ranchero, but the sound of kids playing and crowing roosters. Believe it or not this is a pleasant wake-up. I put on some NPR Car Talk and made a classy breakfast. I went all out, I had orange juice, bacon, banana pancakes, and scrambled eggs. It was a relaxing morning of just cooking, doing Ken-Ken and then listening to Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me. The best part of my day was this evening. I learned that my mood may be directly affected by alcohol. This is not to say that I am an alcoholic, but that beer really does do wonders. My parents had smuggled in a 6-pack of Samuel Adams Summer Ale and I opened my first bottle today. Nothing gave me such sheer delight to have a nice micro-brew. I can positively say that the single act of drinking this beer may have been one of my happiest moments in a year. It is somewhat pathetic that beer can outrank many of my more interesting experiences, but I forgot how great it is to have such a beloved beverage. Another aspect is that I may be the only person in the country to even have Samuel Adams Summer Ale in the entire country of Nicaragua. It is entirely feasible that I just consumed 1/6^th of the entire national supply of this type of beer. I love beer, I am proud to say it. I see beer not as a party drink, but as intricate and cultured as wine. Yes, Beast has it’s place in the world, but I am a beer snob, I love my micro-brews. Sam Adams may not fall into this category, but for Nicaraguan standards it is close enough. Yet, this is not the culmination of the night. I went one step further. After my pathetic appearance in the soccer game I needed to just change my mindset and relax in my house. I made a quick stop at the local store, bought a half pound of chicken and made one of my most intricate dishes. It was no culinary feat, but again for here was much more than any of my neighbors were eating tonight. I caramelized some onions, sautéed peppers, garlic, and tomatoes and had some pasta boiling on the side. As my protein I breaded cut-up chicken breast and fried it in sunflower seed oil and Cajun spices. Perhaps I have too much time on my hand, but if I was going to make such a dinner I might as well go the whole way and set the ambience. Dusk was rapidly settling over the town and rather than turning on the lights I lit a candle, put on some chill music and was ready to enjoy the bounty of my work. What better way to end the weekend than drinking a cold beer, eating a truly flavorful dinner, and listening to music while the rain falls down around you. If that isn’t blissful, I don’t want to know what is. 

Backtracking to Weddings and Travels

I’m going to backtrack a bit. We are going to jump back to July 17th, a fine day: the birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and all was right in the world. Those were the simpler days and life was good. I was in Managua and had met up with Stella at the airport to head off to Masatepe. The reason for all this travel: it was Hilda’s wedding. For those of you not taking copious notes about my life, Hilda was my oldest host sister during training and she was marrying her boyfriend of 6 years. To be honest, I don’t know what was more exciting during all of this; seeing Hilda and the family or meeting up with Stella. Well I guess that is not exactly a fair statement. Both are important for different reasons and it is like comparing apples and mangoes. I really see my host families as family now and rely on them for support and often just call my sisters to say hi and see how things are going. I was so happy for Hilda and I knew the marriage was meant to be. Her and Gonzalo seem so perfect for each other and after owning the bakery together, marriage will be a piece of cake.

 

The wedding itself was much more elaborate than I was expecting. I felt like a schmuck showing up in khakis and a polo shirt. I was going to wear my guayabera, but even that wouldn’t have been classy enough and I looked weird since it wasn’t fitted. The entire family was in suites and ties and it was more like an American wedding. Hilda’s dress was made in Miami and all the members of the wedding party had matching designs. The only incident to remind us that we were in Nicaragua was that the power went out and had to have the wedding in the dark. Thank you Daniel Ortega and your campaign promise of no more power outages. Anyways, I was proud of Hilda, it felt as if my own sister was getting married and everyone just seemed so happy. Hilda had a continual smile on her face and she did not seem worked up at all. From tv I had the perception that weddings are stressful events that usually more miserable for the bride and groom, but Hilda seemed to be having the time of her life. 

 

The wedding was a huge event in itself and in Nicaragua that is usually where the evening stops. Not so with Hilda and Gonzalo, they pulled out all the stops and rented a restaurant for the reception. In all honesty, it wasn’t purely Nicaraguan, Gonzalo has a lot of family in the States and I think that played a large factor. I wasn’t complaining, they had a 6-layer cake, disc jockey, free drinks, and a catered dinner. It was top-notch and everyone was having a blast. I give Hilda credit, she stayed in her wedding dress all night and as you can see by the pictures it had quite a train. Another Nicaragua moment was that their first dance together was to none other than “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic, the typical love song here. Besides that small cliché moment, the night took off and I spent most of the evening on the dance floor with Stella. That is not to say that I am a good dancer, but I just didn’t care and I hope that Stella didn’t mind me stomping all over her toes. It was a great night and has just made me that much more excited for Al and Melina’s wedding this September. I am counting down the days and I can’t wait to show off my inadequate dance moves.

 

I’ve been forgetful the last month. First I forgot to mention Hilda’s wedding and next I forgot to talk about going to Selva Negra with Stella. Just to catch you all up: Stella had a meeting in Managua in July and that meant she could extend her visit to include the weekends before and after the conference. The first weekend we spent at Hilda’s wedding and the next, Stella came up to Matagalpa. We planned on just relaxing and not doing a whole lot. I hadn’t seen Stella before the previous weekend for about 2 months and we just wanted to hang around the city. Ideally I wanted to go to San Dionisio and my whole town was waiting for Stella’s arrival, but it would have been too much time on the bus and we compromised to stay in the city. It worked out, it may have only been two nights, but we made the most of the three days. For one we had a picnic in the park. This is kind of a joke because my idea of a picnic was buying half a rotisserie chicken for myself and a bag of chips and refried beans as our appetizer. Ha, not your idea of a picnic, but it worked. We also took an idea from meeting up with my friends Angus and Emily and we headed up to Castillo de Cacao. Sadly it was closed, but we snooped around anyways and walked around. The place is famous because it makes local chocolate and is supposed to have a decent tour with plenty of free chocolate. I was expecting to walk around a big factory with fancy glass observing decks but instead it looked like someone’s house. I swore we went to the wrong place. That is Nicaragua for you, but it was still a pretty place. I peeked into the windows and I have no idea where they make the chocolate, but it was a nice walk.

 

To end our weekend we headed out to Selva Negra which is a locally famous destination to go hiking and a tourist haven. Everyone in town talks about a) how expensive it is and b) how cold it is. True, the place is uber expensive for a Nica and a Peace Corps Volunteer. I think lunch was about $15 a plate and it is like $40 a night so Stella and I just went there for the day and packed our own snacks. Also, I have to give credit, it is colder in Selva Negra, I won’t say it is helado, but the temperatures are probably high 60’s. It is technically a cloud forest and is one of the few protected forests in the region. We went on the longest hike, but for tough people such as ourselves it wasn’t enough. Please, we have climbed Mt. Washington, Monteverde in Costa Rica, and Volcan Arenal, no skimpy cloud forest would tire us out. Either way it was a good day trip and worth doing to escape the city. There wasn’t much for taking pictures. I tried to get a picture of the city off in the distance, but it just doesn’t work on those small point and shoot cameras. I could have taken some pictures in the forest, but I can describe it well enough in words. Imagine a forest, now put it on a hill and imagine it perpetually wet. There you go, that is Selva Negra; maybe add some moss or air plants for good measure.

Welcome Nica 54

Ahhh... by writing this that means I have been in country for a year. I remember one year ago jaunting around Cape Cod, traveling to Martha´s Vineyard and freaking out about leaving the country. If any new 54ers are reading this, don´t worry, Nicaragua is absolutely amazing and you will love it.

For most of you, as was for me, the worst part was thinking about what to pack. Here is my trimmed down list:

Jeans, everyone wears them, I don´t care what Peace Corps say. Teachers show up to school in dirty tshirts and sandals. Just try to one up them a bit with a clean shirt and jeans.

Shorts, no one wears them so beware. I feel awkward in shorts and only wear them when I am working out or going to the river to swim.

Khakis or cotton pants will be your best friend for working outside and just walking around.

Maybe one longsleeved shirt that you like for when the mosquitoes are at their worst or those random cold nights.

Polos are your utility uniform. They can be dressed up for any formal event and are worn daily around town.

A light jacket for at night during the winter months.

Rain gear, a jacket or an umbrella that can double up as sun shade

Exercise gear, you are going to have plenty of free time to work out and it is just more comfortable.

Plenty of socks and underwear.

Clothes that dry quickly

For the kitchen bring
• Special spices/seasoning that you enjoy using at home and are difficult to find in Nicaragua (taco seasoning, garlic pepper, lemon pepper, and Italian seasoning to name a few)
• Recipes
• Mess kit (useful when cooking on your own before buying a whole dishware/cookware set)
• Tupperware/Gladware plastic containers
• Measuring cups/spoons (difficult to find)

Electronics
• Laptop or netbook (Internet access is available throughout Nicaragua and Volunteers find personal laptops helpful in writing work reports, other work related letters/grants/budget proposals, and for communication purposes)
• Portable DVD player
• Digital camera
• USB, thumb/flash drive
• iPod, MP3 player, or small radio
• Speakers
• Surge protector

Random

Some things I can´t live without are
Good switchblade
headlamp
Flashlight
Good backpack
Bandana
Sewing Kit
Games
School Supplies
Watch
Water Bottle
Travel Towel

Enjoy your last few weeks in the States and I will see you in Managua

Let the Sports Begin

It has been an interesting last few weeks, Peace Corps is actually turning into a job. I have been writing to people complaining about my new responsibilities, but I guess that is what it is supposed to be like. No more sitting on the sidelines for me, no sir, I am now an active member of the community and trying to get things done. I don’t want to make it sound like I was a slouch before, but it has definitely been turned up a notch in the last week or two.

As one of my last group emails showed, I had to attend a conference in Managua. The picture pretty much describes my agony. We were put up in prison like conditions, housed like sardines, and fed bread a water. The worst part was I was only allotted two hours of rest on the hammock a day. Ha, it was the best type of training I could have ever attended. We stayed at Vistamar, a hotel located on the Pacific Ocean and near some of the best surfing beaches in the country. My hotel room had a nice view of the beach and every morning I woke up at 5am to go for a run along the beach. Don’t get me wrong we worked our butts off from 8am to 6pm during training sessions and I learned a lot, but afterwards I took charge to organize soccer games on the beach and karaoke night. I must say, I am fond of leadership positions, maybe the position befits me. Of course my soccer team one, I don’t want to sound cocky, but I did score over half the goals for my team and I knew how to pick strong teammates. The one downside, or should I say responsibility of such training events is that I am now expected to act on my new capacities. My jobs have increased in town and I am now working at the local high school, my soccer teams have just begun in the local league, and I am giving health charlas with the Centro de Salud.

 

I don’t want to bore you with all of my new duties or jobs, but lets just skim over some of the highlights. I am trying to work with my youth group more. With the help of one of the professors we organized a game in San Ramon about two weekends ago. The idea was that we knew another professor in town who had a team and he would be waiting for us on Saturday morning. I spent the whole week soliciting the Alcaldia for money to pay for our bus fair and the Vica-Alcaldesa was kind enough to help me out. Because this is Nicaragua it changed the night before we were supposed to leave and now we were leaving one hour earlier in the town truck since it was heading to Matagalpa anyways; fine I don’t mind saving the town some money. Well when the truck pulled up the following morning it was filled with about 20 church goers and their musical instruments. I don’t know what they were thinking but the mayor just looked at me and said, “jump in”. Ha, what a joke, I am responsible for 15 kids and they are somehow supposed to squeeze into the bed of a truck with 20 other people… surprisingly, yes and they did. It was the most uncomfortable ride of my life and my thighs were on fire after an hour of sitting in an awkward squatting position. The fun just kept coming however, we got dropped off at the wrong stadium. I don’t know what the driver was thinking since we were all in soccer gear, but he brought us to the baseball stadium. Hmph, not a good start, anyways I gave my contact a call and this is where the fun really starts. He first tells me he is on his way, then after an hour of sitting around I decide I will go to his house. I walk into town with some of my kids and find out that the guy decided to go to Matagalpa for the day and won’t be back until evening. That was nice of him, I went through all the trouble of getting transport, gathering my kids, and this guy leaves us high and dry. I was pissed but I wouldn’t let it ruin our day. I marched my team the 2km down the highway to the soccer stadium and figured we could at least practice. As we showed up we must have been quite the site all in uniform ready to play. Some of the barrio kids came out to see what was going on and I got the bright idea of calling them over and seeing if we could start a pick-up game. I asked the guard if I could borrow his whistle and it turned out to be a  really good game. My team lost, but that was probably for the better because we hadn’t practiced for two months and I didn’t want their egos to be too inflated. Plus, they were a bunch of punks: they weren’t passing, they were playing with their heads down, and were downright lazy. To top it all off some of my players refused to shake hands at the end of the game and that sent me over the edge. I threatened to kick anyone off the team who refused to line-up. I don’t know why it unnerved me so much, but I want to instill in my players the importance of sportsmanship and I hate how they are so quick to think they have always been wronged.

After my eventful morning I had to get out of San Dionisio. My friend in Esquipulas had been sick for the last week and I called her up to see how she had been doing. I decided that I was going to rush up to my house and bake her banana bread. It turned into a bigger ordeal than I thought and because of the bus schedules I didn’t get into Esquipulas until about 8pm, but I had banana bread in hand and I cooked a kick-ass dinner. To top it all off I even made brownies and the best part was just being able to unwind with one of my friends.

 

The final event on the docket was this last weekend. Sunday was the inaugural day of the Futbol and Baseball League in town. All the teams were to meet in front of the Alcaldia and we were to march through town. My youth group was told to come early and the Visa-Alcaldesa handed out new uniforms to my entire team. They were told that they were the official representatives of the town in the infantile league and they looked good. I was proud of them, if I leave anything in this town after my two years I guess it will be my ability to motivate at least 18 kids to form a soccer team. Anyways, we prepared to march and I had to join my team, that’s right, I joined a team and would be playing as well. I was nominated to be one of the directors and treasurers of my team. I think it was because they know I am not so good as a player or they think I am just a gringo and by giving me an honorary title I will be more willing to buy them things. I didn’t care, I am just happy to be hanging out with guys my own age. 

  The parade is pretty much what you would expect during Memorial Day in the States. We all joined up and were told to form two lines. In intermittent spots bands broke up the lines of players and were busy blasting traditional songs. You would have swore you were lining Burnside Ave until a stray pig ran through the ranks or you heard the calls of drunken men on horses. It is funny how sometimes I can forget where I am until a sudden shock such as seeing a malnutrition child or a stray pack of dogs breaks me of my daydream. 

 

Not to toot my own horn, but my youth group team is good. They only got to play a 30 minute game, but they won 2-0 against the high school’s team. To top it all off we had to lend the high school our other jerseys. That’s right, we have not only one, but two jerseys, our own soccer balls, and thanks to some donations, all the players have soccer socks as well. It was a scorching day and I was burning to a crisp. There is literally no shade out by the soccer field and since it all had been recently painted the Alcaldia decided to keep us out there baking for an hour while it went on making political speeches about how great they were. I guess not too different than me bragging in my own blog, but you all are not a captive audience. Finally my adult team was ready to play and I was cast aside as a substitute. I was promised that I would see game time, but I inherently doubted that. My gut proved correct and when the final whistle blew and we won 2-1 I couldn’t help but feel a little apathetic and agitated that I contributed in no way. Yet, I was also secretly happy because there were a lot of people watching and I didn’t want to be responsible for us losing. I just need to be more confident, I dominated on the beach and I guess there is no reason why I can’t do the same in San Dionisio.

Mama and Dad in Nicaragua: The Final Chapter

The final leg of our journey. It had been a long few days and we have traveled over half of the country. My parents were holding on pretty strong, but I, the one used to living here, was the one that got sick. So not fair, this happened when my mom came to visit in January as well. In a way it was a mixed blessing because it ensured that we took it easy, but it also made me cranky and just want to curl up into a small ball. Luckily we were headed for San Juan del Sur and there really isn’t too much to do there. San Juan is famous for being a small fishing town that has turned into a hidden surfing getaway. The beach in town isn’t amazing, but I guess the neighboring beaches are supposed to be beautiful. We got a hotel room right on the beach overlooking the whole bay and although I initially complained about the price, it was worth every cent. The funny part is that San Juan del Sur is also the staging area for the new Survivor. It is hard to image a show based on the rough extremes being filmed in this part of the country but I guess that is why tv can work magic. 

 

We spent the next two days recovering by the beach and just trying to relax. It was a nice change of pace after our marathon race around the country. I got to recuperate and my mom was happy just to read her book. I did go for a nice walk along the beach with pops and we even hit the grocery store to make our own version of nachos. Luckily we got to meet up with Chris and Rachael again for a final dinner before they headed off to Granada. Rachael was busy talking up this seafood restaurant and how you could order a plate with a plethora of different fishes and shellfish. Lets just say that I have a bad record with suggestions by my Peace Corps friends and Rachael’s suggestion didn’t really break the mold. The food wasn’t bad, but in tune with all the places in Nicaragua it just wasn’t amazing. The best part of the meal was just getting to hang out with my friends in the company of my parents and realize that there was no where else I would rather be. Like my birthday we spent some time on the beach and again there was a bonfire involved. I don’t care where I live in the future but I am determined I will have a place that lets me have a bonfire. The three of us spent our last night on the beach having a beer, sitting by the bonfire, and just taking in the moment.

 

Like all good things our time in San Juan del Sur came to an end and that meant it was time to head back to Managua. The picture above my not look to interesting and indeed it isn’t. The interesting part about the picture is that the car was our trusty steed for the week and endeared barely passable roads, my driving, and it’s last hurdle of getting out of the parking lot. The story of this parking lot is I don’t know how designed it, but it must have been built only for large SUVs. The slope is so steep and sudden that as we pulled in you could hear as each sheet of metal scrapped over the apex. All week my dad was dreading having to take the car out and I just feared we would get back to Managua and be hit with a nice repair bill.

In Managua we stayed by the Peace Corps office and it was nice again to show my parents a part of my life. Now when I talk to them about going into Managua and the office they can picture where I am and I even got to introduce them to some of my directors. The Peace Corps office is not what I expected it would be when I first arrived. I imagined a US compound complete with marines for some reason. I guess that would contradict the mission of the Peace Corps, but what can I say I am a day dreamer. It is just a low key building with a gate and a couple tiles that spell out the name. I was able to steal a picture of me by the entrance with my trusty Stew Leonard’s bag. Next time you make your way into Danbury, check out the wall at Stews, I might just be up there representing the Peace Corps.

 

To finish up our vacation I brought my parents to my guilty pleasure… Las Galerias. It is a large American style mall with a fancy food court that is a collection of restaurants. We splurged and got chicken wings, liters of drinks, and even made it to the movies to see Shrek 4 or whatever it is called. We didn’t stop there, after the movie we went out for sushi. Maybe it was the atmosphere or the mental leap of thinking that I was in the States but for the first time during the trip the food met my expectations. It was a weird experience. I was with my parents and in an American setting. I was not ready to leave or have my parents leave for that matter. I wanted to stow away in their luggage and return to the comfort of my life. I wanted to run away from it all, but I knew that I had responsibilities in my town and the same luxuries that I thought I missed were also the same things I was originally so willing to give up.

The next morning were our final hours together. It was a grand vacation and we saw almost the entire country. I know my parents didn’t travel to sight see, but I felt better knowing that I gave them a whirlwind tour. We made it the whole seven days without wanting to kill one another and instead had a greater appreciation for our time together. I hope they both take back a fresh image of Nicaragua and share the wonderful parts of the country with the rest of the family and friends. My dad successfully survived his first trip to a third world country and that means we need to start gearing him up for Colombia. As much as I loved traveling around the country with my parents I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as I left the airport and hailed beat-up old US school bus to take me back to my site.

Mama and Dad in Nicaragua: The Saga Continues

By now we had already bisected the country. We traveled from the capital to the northern regions of Matagalpa and had successfully made our way to the coast of Leon thanks to my skillful driving. Spirits were high and we made it into the city by nightfall. Thankfully I had the tour book that Stella left me on her last visit and I was able to pick out a good hotel located in the center of town. I was a little skeptical because there is only so much you can discern from a 40 word description, but what the hell we went for it. The hotel was actually pretty nice and our room had hot water, an ac, and a tv; what more could you ask for? It was already nightfall and there really wasn’t too much to do around Leon so again I turned to our trusty tour book and picked our a restaurant that was supposed to be the best in town. For Nicaraguan standards it was pretty good,, but I would not put it in the same league with even some of the more average restaurants in Brookfield or Danbury. I don’t know, but something about the food in Nicaragua just lacks a sense of emphasis or passion. Maybe I am just being snobby, but I was not completely impressed. I didn’t mind though and I did eat my whole plate, maybe it was the large glass of wine and the following long island that helped wash it down. My goal that night was to find a live music bar for my dad because Leon is the college town of the country, but it seemed like everyone had different ideas. The bars were packed but the only music coming out was that of techno or house. We made a quick stroll around the park but decided to retire as most of the shops were already closed up.

The following day we just had the morning to kill. I wanted to show my parents a traditional Nicaraguan market and do a quick lap around the churches of Leon. Of course we stopped at the main cathedral and I took a picture of my parents posing with the lion of Leon. The whole reason we came to Leon was so that we could be closer to Nagarote where we were planning on meeting up with my friend Chris and several other volunteers for his town’s Hipicas. In our morning tour of Leon the big to-do was the market. Unlike the supermarkets in the States the market is a free-for-all. Sure, there is order of how the booths are organized, but what is sold or the prices are no hold bars. We saw everything from live crabs, to iguanas, to turtle eggs. The sad fact of the matter is that the iguanas were all alive and what the merchants do is snap the fingers of the creatures off and use the ligaments to tie their limbs behind their backs. It sounds more like a torture technique used in medieval times, but try explaining that to all the iguanas stacked five high on top of one another. 

Since this is the rainy season it began to rain by mid morning. Being naïve tourists we figured we were special and the rain would hold out just for us. We were wrong and the return to our hotel turned more into a sprint with periodic dives for shelter. This picture of my parents pretty much sums up our experience in Leon. It was fun and I think my parents liked the main square and church, but they failed to experience the true splendor of the city. For example, Leon is one of the hottest cities in Nicaragua and the rain tarnished that impression. Also, they have a bagel restaurant! Not a big deal in New England where bagels are everywhere, but it is my whole reason fro traveling 5hrs to see the city. Anyways, after getting thoroughly soaked we made it back to our hotel and met up with two of my friends: Rachael and Karen and headed off to Nagarote. 

 

My last impression of an Hipica was in Masaya and it consisted of many fat men riding around on their horses and forcing them to “dance”. It is a pretty hilarious sight especially since everyone is dressed up in cowboy gear, flannel is the design of the day and nearly everyone is drunk. I had similar expectations for Nagarote, but I was surprisingly let down. The drunks of Nicaragua were not carrying their weight and I was left disappointed. I guess it is good that the town knows how to control their liquor, but I wanted a show to be put on for my parents. The other big event of the day was that it was the Fourth of July! Happy birthday America! Chris did a great job decorating his house with red, white, and blue banners and even made vegetarian burgers. Rachael miraculously whipped up an onion dip and it was almost as good as being in the USA. Oh how I missed hanging out on the lake, spending the day skiing, building a bonfire, and launching fireworks off. I settled for some drunks on horses and a vegetarian burger, but you can see that it paled in comparison. I think it is worth mentioning again that it is the rainy season. About halfway through the day the power went out and we were left sitting in the dark of Chris’ house. It may have only been mid-day, but Chris’ place doesn’t have any windows and we took to the streets instead. It was a good experience for my parents because they got to meet some of my friends and also see how other volunteers live. Getting back to the rain, the sky decided to open up about halfway through the horse parade, but we were already in our spot and I was not leaving. As much as I make fun of this event there is something captivating about watching hundreds of horses dance by. Well we tried to take shelter under a tree, but as the picture shows it wasn’t a complete success.

That night we took said good bye to my friends and continued on to Granada. It is the old colonial city and the big tourist hot spot in the country. It is located on Lake Nicaragua which is famous for being the only lake in the world with freshwater bull sharks. The city really is beautiful with the old colonial architecture and I chose a hotel that was close to the center. The following day we decided to abandon my initial plans of heading to Isla Omotepe because neither of us seemed to motivated to climb for either 3 or 6 hours up any volcanoes. Instead we compromised on a nice boat tour around the small islands that surround Granada. I inherited the job as translator even though our tour guide spoke some English and we were driven down the harbor. We jumped onto a boat that holds about 15 people, but got it all to ourselves.

 

 

I was nervous that it was going to be some gimmicky tour, but I was left corrected. Our guide was very friendly and I think it was well worth the grand total of 40 bucks. We learned that Granada is surrounded by over 300 islands and all the big economic magnates have a house or an island. It seems that the whole country’s economy is run by two or three families and each has a house near Granada. It was Nicaragua’s version of a star tour from Hollywood, but the houses were beautiful. The weird part was how a giant mansion would be in juxtaposition to a small fishing shack on a neighboring island where an indigenous family still lived. The other perilous part of the trip was that as we toured around the sky became gradually darker. If you looked off to the horizon you could see the imposing thunder clouds and we knew it was only a matter of time until they came our way. No matter, we still stopped at one of the local restaurants to get a drink. I think it was more because it was an arrangement between the tour and the restaurant, but I got a nice picture of their pet birds. 

We timed it perfect, just as we started to head back into the boat the first wave of rain came. We were luckily under the canopy and didn’t get too soaked. The fun part was it looked like we were going to run aground until I realized the path we were taking back to the dock was through a swamp. Supposedly the canal had not been used all winter and it was well overgrown with water plants and the captain had to gun the engine to push all the plants aside. It made the whole tour feel a little more dangerous and exotic and I had no problem selling myself to the idea. Just as we finished the tour I got the guide to take a picture of the family and if I am not mistaken we are missing one member… I don’t know why my parents forgot to bring Bailey.

  In typical Koza fashion we were not done with just one tour. That was merely a warm-up and we still had the rest of the day to fill. I figured that we could head over to Masaya, see the market, make it to the volcano, and finally hit Catarina and Masatepe. For most families this would be about two or three days worth of activities but nothing is too much for us. I helped the fact because I was driving and got us lost in Masaya. Unlike Granada it is not so touristy and is not as prosperous as Leon. After I drove through a few dodgy neighborhoods my dad said he had seen enough of the markets and that we should move on. It is lucky that we did because we got to the volcano early enough to tour the visit center and then walk around the crater. Now the volcano is probably not what you are imagining. There was no spewing lava or any visible for that matter. All you could see or smell were sulfur clouds; the bugs were atrocious and there was not much vegetation because of the old lava fields and sulfur. I did get a great mom and dad shot at the top of the look out.

 

From there it was off to Catarina which is a small artesian town just outside of Masaya. It is famous because it has a lookout point where you can see Laguna de Apoyo and Granada on the other side. Again, luck seemed to be on our side in a sense because it was pure fog. When we got to the lookout all you could see was a wall of white. My dad is not a man to linger and was done with the town in about two seconds. Our one other chore was to inquire about a hotel since I had a wedding there the following week. We stopped at the one hotel in town and I knew it would be more on the expensive side. When the owner was busy I told him not to bother, but finally he told me to name a price, I said 10 to 20 dollars and he said those were impossible for anywhere in Nicaragua… prick.

To end our whirlwind of a day we headed to Masatepe so my family could see my training town and family. It wasn’t as big of a deal as I expected it to be. In Nica fashion we were escorted in, seated and then it was followed by an awkward silence. The big talk was about Hilda’s wedding and the surprise that Sol is supposedly getting married as well. I got to play with Andres a bit and we just reminisced about my time living with them. I think my parents liked Masatepe more than San Dionisio, but I can’t really blame them, it is a true city and the neighboring towns are a 2 minute taxi ride away. By now it was getting pretty late and we were all on our last strands of energy. We saw way more than anyone is supposed to see in a day and called it quits. It sure was a good idea that we decided to take a rest day.