Hi again! I’ve been so busy updating y’all on my Nicaragua trip (there was just so much to tell!) that I haven’t had the time to let you know what’s been going on since! So, then, allow me to fill you in.
Probably the most exciting news has to do with Jessica – she has a job now! Finding some work has been near the top of her priority list since I’ve been back in the country, now that’s she’s done with school. Some time ago she won a student competition of some sort sponsored by Proctor & Gamble’s branch here in Costa Rica, and ever since she’s been hoping to get a job with them. About a week before I left for Nicaragua, she FINALLY landed an interview with them after sending in an application some time before that. She actually went through two interviews (the second group of people she saw weren’t aware she had already had one interview), and some time while I was in Nicaragua they called her back and offered her the job! I haven’t really asked her in detail what she does, but so far it’s mostly been a lot of training type stuff. She is in charge, it seems, of a ton of P&G related stuff in both Chile and Peru. It sounds like the two countries could fall apart if Jessica doesn’t show up to work – again, I don’t know the details, but it sure sounds like she’s got a pretty important position right out of the gate. The only really frustrating part so far has been that, due to the fact that P&G is a U.S. company, EVERYTHING is in English. Obviously the employees communicate with one another in Spanish and all that, but basically all of the incoming/outgoing communications, international reports, training manuals, and a ton of other things are in English. It’s a little rough right now, but her English is good enough that she’ll quickly get used to it. On the bright side (which far exceeds the bad stuff), by Costa Rica standards she’s getting a great beginning salary, and the benefits that the company offers are pretty amazing (including free movies at the theatre…I’m trying to get her to take me :D).
Speaking of the movie theatre, Erick and I went to see Watchmen the weekend it came out. I’ve never really done anything with just Erick before, and since he’s very much into superhero and sci-fi/fantasy stuff I asked him if he wanted to go. When we got to the theatre it turned out that the movie started much later than we thought, so we headed to a nearby arcade where we played a couple games of air hockey. We enjoyed the movie, although Erick said it was one of the weirdest things he’d ever seen. We ended up waiting a long, long time for a taxi, because someone had the genius idea (that would be me) of calling a taxi instead of waiting in line outside the mall. Nevertheless, we had a pretty good night overall and it was nice to bond a little bit with him as I hadn’t yet done.
On a completely different note, there were some pretty strong earthquakes again last week, though much farther to the south than the monster ones in January. Once again I did not feel them at all, and I have no idea because everybody else seems to be able to feel them no matter where they are. I was home alone watching TV, and I just happened to flip to local news where an excited reporter was telling me that a 6-point-something earthquake just rocked the country…two minutes ago. I slowly looked around the room, as if expecting something to have moved while I wasn’t looking. Turns out just about everyone else in Heredia felt it. Oh well…
Though I haven’t been traveling (outside Heredia, that is), I’ve been keeping pretty active the past couple weeks, as we finally managed to reserve the university’s gymnasium to play some basketball. So far, “we” has only been Ashley Hansen and myself, but we’re trying to get some other students who said they’d love to play to join us. Scheduling a reservation when all the right people do NOT have class has been a little tricky. Last Tuesday, about ten of us played some volleyball, arranged by one of our program directors. Much like the soccer we play, it was pretty chaotic and devoid of anything resembling proper regulation – but it was tons of fun!
One thing I’ve been meaning to do ever since I’ve arrived here has been to go to the cathedral in San Rafael, a nearby town where I attend church with Jessica. The Catholic Cathedral in the center of town is absolutely enormous and from the first time I saw it I wanted to have a look inside. Last weekend I did manage to do just that, in part to just check it out and in part to just spend some quiet time with God outside the house. While I was there, more and more people streamed in until I realized they were about to start a Saturday evening mass. Instead of leaving, I just figured I’d stick around and see some Catholicism in action a la Costa Rica. They didn’t convert me or anything, but I did enjoy the service very much. I might head back one or two times before leaving (in only a month and a half now, yikes!).
This past weekend, I finally got the pleasure of seeing the piece of property that Eli owns to the northeast of us. She’s been telling me all about this place since I’ve been here, and it is quite pretty territory. Sooner or later (meaning sooner) she’d like to stop working in Heredia and live a tranquil country life. While we were there, she told me all about where she’d like to build, what they’ve done so far, and all the types of foods she’s going to grow when she lives there. Getting to the property was a little adventurous, as we had to park the car near one of her future neighbor’s houses and cross two rivers via two rickety swinging bridges. While on the property, we gathered up a few dozen lemons from a tree they have, which I carried all the way back to the car. I accused Eli of using me like a slave…and she laughed, and asked me not to write that in my host family evaluation form for USAC.
After visiting her property, we drove to where her niece Vianey lives. If you remember from my blogs in January/February, Vianey is the mother of Angie, the girl who lived with us in Heredia for a couple months. It was really great to see Angie again, and this time I met the whole family, not just her mom and little sister. The first night there we got to see a couple soccer games, one which involved one of Vianey’s brothers. Vianey was hilarious that night, because while in Heredia she was utterly soft-spoken, much like her youngest daughter, but that night she was absolutely nuts, screaming at the players every five seconds or so. My Spanish vulgarity vocabulary is not terribly extensive, but I certainly heard a few things from Vianey and some other moms and dads (with children nearby) which I would never utter in polite company!
The following day (Saturday), Eli, Angie, Vianey, two other daughters of hers, a few little boys who hang around their house, and I all went to a nearby river for a mini-picnic and swim. Everybody got in the water except me because 1) I didn’t have a bathing suit or any shorts with me and 2) the river is located next to gigantic banana fields, and the idea of the all the chemicals they use getting on my skin wasn’t terribly appealing. Nevertheless, we had a great time. I played with their dog Benji quite a bit, impressed Eli with my rock-skipping skills, and joined one of the small boys as he learned how maddeningly impossible it is to catch minnows with one’s hands or a tuna can. When we got back Luis had arrived, and after a good dinner we (that is, almost the entire family) spent almost the entire evening watching one of Costa Rica’s major rodeo competitions. By this point we were all pretty tired, and though some went to bed a few of us stayed up to watch a movie (The Gods Must be Crazy – a very peculiar but funny film I’ve wanted to check out for some time). The next morning and afternoon we spent relaxing around the house before heading back to Heredia around 3:30 or so.
And that’s pretty much been my life since Nicaragua. This coming weekend, I’ll be spending a couple days at Volcán Arenal, organized by USAC, so that should be fun (though I’m sure not half as fun as when I was there with Ben & Kristen – miss you guys!). Until my next update, take care of yourselves. I’m having bouts of homesickness every so often, so I’d love to hear from you! Thanks, as always, for prayer and support.
Monday, March 23
Thursday, March 19
nicaragua...part 3 (finally!)
So, finally, here’s part 3 of 3 (promise) of my trip to Nicaragua!
Thursday, February 26
We got up early that morning to head out to Masaya, which is famous for its grand markets. We had not done a whole lot of touristy shopping, and although none of us are fanatic shoppers, we were looking forward to seeing what they had. It turns out there were no buses from León directly to Masaya, and as such we had to take a bus back to Managua where we didn’t wait long in catching another bus to Masaya. We arrived in the late morning, and immediately took a taxi to a local hostel that was highly recommended in our handy Lonely Planet book. The hostel, unfortunately, was closed for repairs, so we did some more searching. A friendly looking place across the street was open, but they didn’t have space for three. Our third stop finally was a success, finally getting a room in a small place with reasonable prices. We all decided that the interior, while clean and certainly cozy, was horrendously ugly, with terrible color coordination in the paint and furniture and bizarre works of art scattered about the lobby. Oh well, it all looks the same while you’re sleeping, right?
After locking up our stuff in the room, we headed out to the market. The first one we found was monstrous, with shops covering a couple city blocks, and all with a ton of stuff inside. A lot of it was very cool to look at, but, as it is with many tourist shops, most of the items we saw were the kind of things you say to yourself, “Well, what the heck would I do with it once I got home?” The whole set up was very, very touristy, but since the place was so famous we pretty much expected it. After a few hours of wandering aimlessly looking at various trinkets that quickly began to blend together, we sat down at a nearby restaurant for some quick lunch. Ashley L. was feeling a little better, and she at least had a bit of food, but not much. While seated, we had quite an eclectic variety of persons approach our table: a few kids simply asked us for money, one lady tried to sell us some chocolate powder (for cocoa? I’m not sure), another kid tried to sell us some pirated DVDs (I would have bought “Che,” but he only had one half of it), a dog continuously came back to see if we would share some of our greasy fajitas, and one woman actually managed to sell us some cookies which tasted something like ginger snaps (she got me good with the free sample).
Well fed and ready for a bit more exploring, we headed farther into town to look for a second market which many tourists down visit, but was supposedly a little cheaper and more local-based (not so touristy). We did find it, eventually, and it was even bigger than the first one! This market was all indoors, and it certainly had a different feel to it. Although most of the tourist goods being sold were similar to those of the first market, there was a large variety of other types of shops, selling everything from rice and beans to fried chicken to fabrics, and I saw one shop that I think was selling scrap metal (not sure…).
By this point we were pretty tired of tourist goods, and after Ashley2 patiently waited for me to barter down a wall decoration as best I could we headed back to the hostel to rest. We played cards for a bit more, and even took a while to just rest on our beds. I wasn’t feeling terribly tired, but Ashley L. was still recovering from the day before and for an equally inexplicable reason Ashley H. was starting to feel a little under the weather as well. As it was late afternoon, we decided to just rest up before going out in the evening. While having lunch, we saw a group of men running around with speakers and cords on a nearby stage, and when we asked our waiter what for, he told us that every Thursday night (what luck!) there was live music in the market plaza. Later that evening, as Ashley2 rested I watched a little bit of “The Departed” on TV (with both Spanish audio and subtitles…which I couldn’t really figure out).
Finally we headed out back to the market, where we couldn’t really figure out how to get back in the plaza until we found an entrance where we had to pay a cover fee. Approaching the stage we saw a sea of tables and chairs set up, and almost immediately a waiter approached us and led us to a table. This was around 9:30 or so, and even though Ashley H. by this point had completely lost her appetite (I was worried I was next), and Ashley L. ordered a small salad, I was completely starving and ordered a plate of chicken and rice which I downed in no time. The live music turned out to be more of a combination of bands that played by themselves (to which the crowd occasionally danced) and bands that provided music for a series of dancers who provided us with a wide variety of traditional Latin dances. The dancers were fantastic, and the traditional clothing they wore was beautiful! It was all very colorful, no doubt, in part, due to the fact that a good third of the audience was gringos. Overall we had a great time, and the only thing we regretted was not bringing a camera! Oh well.
Friday, February 27
Because our hostel did not serve breakfast, we went next door that morning to the second hostel that wouldn’t take us for the night but gladly made us something to eat. We sat down with a couple of Australians whom we had seen the day before and were staying in the same hostel. Waiting a while for our pancakes and gallo pinto to be served, we got to know the couple, Mike and Yenny, fairly well. Yenny is a native Malaysian who speaks fluent Mandarin along with English and her native Malay, and after moving to Australia a few years ago she met Mike and the two married. They had just begun an enormous four-month vacation, including basically every country of Hispanic America, Spain, and Finland (random ending, no?). Over breakfast we realized that both they and we were planning to go to Volcán Masaya that morning, so the five of us crammed into a taxi and headed to the park.
While it probably would have cost very little for us to continue the taxi ride up to the volcano crater, we decided to walk the road. The way up turned out to be considerably longer than we thought, and it was a very hot day. Fortunately we had plenty of water with us, and we made it up tired but hydrated! Volcán Masaya was very different from Telica, in that it had a parking lot directly next to the crater and it had a good-sized crowd peering into the crater’s depths from either the parking lot or a lookout point with a large cross stationed above. The other notable difference was the fact that we were actually separated by a barrier from the crater’s edge, and this time we couldn’t get as close. Nevertheless, the crater was pretty spectacular, and although the noxious steam was a little agitating when one got in its path, it was worth the walk. Since we pre-arranged a time for our taxi driver to come pick us up at the same spot, we soon had to turn around and head back down the long, hot path to the roadside ranger station.
When we arrived back in Masaya we had lunch with Yenny and Mike before bidding them farewell. Ashley2 was still without appetite, and I was a little concerned that my friends were hardly eating at all, but we could do little else other than continue on our loose itinerary. After gathering up all our stuff at the hostel we made away to Masaya’s bus station, where a horde of rickety buses were coming and going in an unperceivable system directed by shouting drivers and young children who helpfully led travelers to the bus they sought. The chaos was only matched by the vendors in the area, who scurried from bus to bus loudly reciting the food, medication, or even book they were trying to sell. Finally our bus got moving for a short ride to Granada.
Granada is one of the oldest colonial towns in Central America, and it is certainly maintained better than most. Likely the most popular tourist spot in Nicaragua, it is also said to be the safest city in Central America. One of our friends from last semester highly recommended the hostel Oasis near the bus station, and thankfully they had space and we got our dorms for the night. It was a pretty nice place, with a layout extremely similar to that of LazyBones in León. On arrival Ashley H. was feeling particularly sick and exhausted, so Ashley L. and I let her take a long nap while we went out to explore the town a little bit. We found a couple of grand churches and stumbled upon the beautiful and active central park, next to which there is a cobblestone street with a long stretch of inviting restaurants boasting delicacies of myriad nationalities.
Finally we headed back to the hostel to relax a bit before waking up Ashley H. and going out to get some food at a Mexican restaurant we had seen on the cobblestone street – the food was delicious. During our meal there was a steady stream of street performers, who are eager to do their best to get the fine-dining gringos to empty their pockets just a bit more. Ashley L. did give some money to a group of teenagers who did some amazing break dancing. Other than the dancers, there were a couple groups who came by and did some really strange traditional (maybe?) dancing while wearing gigantic decorative costumes in the form of a woman in traditional clothing. After paying the bill, we headed back to the hotel very tired and ready to sleep before a more explorative day to come.
Saturday, February 28
On our final day of the trip (excluding our long travel day, which isn’t worth writing about), we got up and headed out to the edge of Lake Nicaragua, an enormous body of water that takes up a significant portion of the space within the country’s borders. Upon reaching the waterfront, we realized we weren’t entirely sure where to go. While thinking it over we were approached by an eccentric old man selling ice cream in a little cart, and being too cute to turn down we each got a little half-melted snack while thinking over our options. Fortunately, an option came to us. In the tradition of our extremely open-ended itinerary we decided to investigate the offer of some random man who walked up to us in the street, showed us a picture of his boat, and offered us a tour.
After leading us down the street and into the tourist area of the waterfront we had originally been searching for, he showed us the boat, told us a little about where he would take us, and we accepted. $20 for all three of us got us an hour tour of Las isletas, a miniature archipelago of little islands that hug the shoreline of Lake Nicaragua. Many of the islands have houses built on them, mostly inhabited by extremely rich Nicaraguans or gringos. The guy who offered us the tour, who was thankfully very friendly beyond the point of paying him, knew who most of the owners of each house was and told us a little bit about almost every island we boated by. An hour later we were back where we had taken off, and started walking back towards the center of town.
However, we had walked only a couple blocks when we spotted some horse-drawn carriages (which are all over Granada) and, having read the evening before that they were relatively cheap and provided pretty extensive tours of the city, we decided to hop on one. Our driver, happy that he could tell his passengers all about his city in his native tongue, let us know about many of the buildings and sights in the city we had either only seen or read about. The tour did not last terribly long, but by the time we got dropped off in the central park it was around 2:30. In light of the fact that my companions were still not healthy enough to remember to include food in the days plans, I kindly informed them that I for one was absolutely starving and would love to get some lunch even if they wanted nothing.
We (that is, I) ate at a small restaurant in a mini-mall plaza near the hostel with tables out on their patio. The meal itself was not extremely noteworthy, but as Ashley L. was feeling particularly charitable that afternoon we were joined by Francisco, a street kid to whom Ash offered what remained of the juice her troubled stomach wasn’t enjoying anyway. Francisco told us a little about his life, and after finishing his treat asked for some money (give a mouse a cookie…) for some school supplies. Wanting to be sure that the money would be spent likewise, Ashley2 went with him to a nearby bookstore to get some pens and a notebook while I finished my meal.
After paying, we headed back to the hostel. Though we hadn’t done a ton of walking that day, the beating sun and heat more than anything had us pretty tired (though not having any food in their stomachs did not help Ashley2). As such, we decided to rent a movie from the hostel’s small collection and watched The Thomas Crown Affair with Pierce Brosnan. Decent flick. Anyway, Ashley2 took naps afterward while I used the computers to check my mail and read up on how the world was doing since last I checked. They slept quite awhile, and upon waking up we decided to just go out to the same Mexican place we had been the night before.
There turned out to be a huge parade-style event happening through central park and down the cobblestone restaurant avenue, consisting almost entirely of men (and some women) on horses. There were so many horses! They stretched farther than I could make out down the street, and a steady stream of them came in from around the bend by the park for a good half-hour before the street cleared out. There were a couple of accidents near our table, and a couple people fell off their horses who were a little spooked by the thick crowd of their own kind. The food was excellent again, and again we were entertained by the same group of street performers.
Though we were planning on going out dancing that night, since it was our last in Nicaragua, we all realized around 10:00 (as we were changing to go out) that we had to get up at 4:00 the next morning for an early bus ride. So, we decided, we’ll celebrate our trip together sometime back in Heredia, and go to sleep instead.
And that’s my trip to Nicaragua! Thanks for being patient with me getting the whole thing up. I really ended up writing a lot more than I thought I would, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Since I didn’t have my camera in all the locations we were at, I’m waiting to get pictures from Ashley2’s cameras before I can put them up here on the blog. I’ll try to get a post up early next week to let you know what’s been happening since I’ve been back, and what’s going to be happening in the next few weeks. Thanks, again, and as always, for your prayers and support. ¡Pura Vida! and God bless!
Thursday, February 26
We got up early that morning to head out to Masaya, which is famous for its grand markets. We had not done a whole lot of touristy shopping, and although none of us are fanatic shoppers, we were looking forward to seeing what they had. It turns out there were no buses from León directly to Masaya, and as such we had to take a bus back to Managua where we didn’t wait long in catching another bus to Masaya. We arrived in the late morning, and immediately took a taxi to a local hostel that was highly recommended in our handy Lonely Planet book. The hostel, unfortunately, was closed for repairs, so we did some more searching. A friendly looking place across the street was open, but they didn’t have space for three. Our third stop finally was a success, finally getting a room in a small place with reasonable prices. We all decided that the interior, while clean and certainly cozy, was horrendously ugly, with terrible color coordination in the paint and furniture and bizarre works of art scattered about the lobby. Oh well, it all looks the same while you’re sleeping, right?
After locking up our stuff in the room, we headed out to the market. The first one we found was monstrous, with shops covering a couple city blocks, and all with a ton of stuff inside. A lot of it was very cool to look at, but, as it is with many tourist shops, most of the items we saw were the kind of things you say to yourself, “Well, what the heck would I do with it once I got home?” The whole set up was very, very touristy, but since the place was so famous we pretty much expected it. After a few hours of wandering aimlessly looking at various trinkets that quickly began to blend together, we sat down at a nearby restaurant for some quick lunch. Ashley L. was feeling a little better, and she at least had a bit of food, but not much. While seated, we had quite an eclectic variety of persons approach our table: a few kids simply asked us for money, one lady tried to sell us some chocolate powder (for cocoa? I’m not sure), another kid tried to sell us some pirated DVDs (I would have bought “Che,” but he only had one half of it), a dog continuously came back to see if we would share some of our greasy fajitas, and one woman actually managed to sell us some cookies which tasted something like ginger snaps (she got me good with the free sample).
Well fed and ready for a bit more exploring, we headed farther into town to look for a second market which many tourists down visit, but was supposedly a little cheaper and more local-based (not so touristy). We did find it, eventually, and it was even bigger than the first one! This market was all indoors, and it certainly had a different feel to it. Although most of the tourist goods being sold were similar to those of the first market, there was a large variety of other types of shops, selling everything from rice and beans to fried chicken to fabrics, and I saw one shop that I think was selling scrap metal (not sure…).
By this point we were pretty tired of tourist goods, and after Ashley2 patiently waited for me to barter down a wall decoration as best I could we headed back to the hostel to rest. We played cards for a bit more, and even took a while to just rest on our beds. I wasn’t feeling terribly tired, but Ashley L. was still recovering from the day before and for an equally inexplicable reason Ashley H. was starting to feel a little under the weather as well. As it was late afternoon, we decided to just rest up before going out in the evening. While having lunch, we saw a group of men running around with speakers and cords on a nearby stage, and when we asked our waiter what for, he told us that every Thursday night (what luck!) there was live music in the market plaza. Later that evening, as Ashley2 rested I watched a little bit of “The Departed” on TV (with both Spanish audio and subtitles…which I couldn’t really figure out).
Finally we headed out back to the market, where we couldn’t really figure out how to get back in the plaza until we found an entrance where we had to pay a cover fee. Approaching the stage we saw a sea of tables and chairs set up, and almost immediately a waiter approached us and led us to a table. This was around 9:30 or so, and even though Ashley H. by this point had completely lost her appetite (I was worried I was next), and Ashley L. ordered a small salad, I was completely starving and ordered a plate of chicken and rice which I downed in no time. The live music turned out to be more of a combination of bands that played by themselves (to which the crowd occasionally danced) and bands that provided music for a series of dancers who provided us with a wide variety of traditional Latin dances. The dancers were fantastic, and the traditional clothing they wore was beautiful! It was all very colorful, no doubt, in part, due to the fact that a good third of the audience was gringos. Overall we had a great time, and the only thing we regretted was not bringing a camera! Oh well.
Friday, February 27
Because our hostel did not serve breakfast, we went next door that morning to the second hostel that wouldn’t take us for the night but gladly made us something to eat. We sat down with a couple of Australians whom we had seen the day before and were staying in the same hostel. Waiting a while for our pancakes and gallo pinto to be served, we got to know the couple, Mike and Yenny, fairly well. Yenny is a native Malaysian who speaks fluent Mandarin along with English and her native Malay, and after moving to Australia a few years ago she met Mike and the two married. They had just begun an enormous four-month vacation, including basically every country of Hispanic America, Spain, and Finland (random ending, no?). Over breakfast we realized that both they and we were planning to go to Volcán Masaya that morning, so the five of us crammed into a taxi and headed to the park.
While it probably would have cost very little for us to continue the taxi ride up to the volcano crater, we decided to walk the road. The way up turned out to be considerably longer than we thought, and it was a very hot day. Fortunately we had plenty of water with us, and we made it up tired but hydrated! Volcán Masaya was very different from Telica, in that it had a parking lot directly next to the crater and it had a good-sized crowd peering into the crater’s depths from either the parking lot or a lookout point with a large cross stationed above. The other notable difference was the fact that we were actually separated by a barrier from the crater’s edge, and this time we couldn’t get as close. Nevertheless, the crater was pretty spectacular, and although the noxious steam was a little agitating when one got in its path, it was worth the walk. Since we pre-arranged a time for our taxi driver to come pick us up at the same spot, we soon had to turn around and head back down the long, hot path to the roadside ranger station.
When we arrived back in Masaya we had lunch with Yenny and Mike before bidding them farewell. Ashley2 was still without appetite, and I was a little concerned that my friends were hardly eating at all, but we could do little else other than continue on our loose itinerary. After gathering up all our stuff at the hostel we made away to Masaya’s bus station, where a horde of rickety buses were coming and going in an unperceivable system directed by shouting drivers and young children who helpfully led travelers to the bus they sought. The chaos was only matched by the vendors in the area, who scurried from bus to bus loudly reciting the food, medication, or even book they were trying to sell. Finally our bus got moving for a short ride to Granada.
Granada is one of the oldest colonial towns in Central America, and it is certainly maintained better than most. Likely the most popular tourist spot in Nicaragua, it is also said to be the safest city in Central America. One of our friends from last semester highly recommended the hostel Oasis near the bus station, and thankfully they had space and we got our dorms for the night. It was a pretty nice place, with a layout extremely similar to that of LazyBones in León. On arrival Ashley H. was feeling particularly sick and exhausted, so Ashley L. and I let her take a long nap while we went out to explore the town a little bit. We found a couple of grand churches and stumbled upon the beautiful and active central park, next to which there is a cobblestone street with a long stretch of inviting restaurants boasting delicacies of myriad nationalities.
Finally we headed back to the hostel to relax a bit before waking up Ashley H. and going out to get some food at a Mexican restaurant we had seen on the cobblestone street – the food was delicious. During our meal there was a steady stream of street performers, who are eager to do their best to get the fine-dining gringos to empty their pockets just a bit more. Ashley L. did give some money to a group of teenagers who did some amazing break dancing. Other than the dancers, there were a couple groups who came by and did some really strange traditional (maybe?) dancing while wearing gigantic decorative costumes in the form of a woman in traditional clothing. After paying the bill, we headed back to the hotel very tired and ready to sleep before a more explorative day to come.
Saturday, February 28
On our final day of the trip (excluding our long travel day, which isn’t worth writing about), we got up and headed out to the edge of Lake Nicaragua, an enormous body of water that takes up a significant portion of the space within the country’s borders. Upon reaching the waterfront, we realized we weren’t entirely sure where to go. While thinking it over we were approached by an eccentric old man selling ice cream in a little cart, and being too cute to turn down we each got a little half-melted snack while thinking over our options. Fortunately, an option came to us. In the tradition of our extremely open-ended itinerary we decided to investigate the offer of some random man who walked up to us in the street, showed us a picture of his boat, and offered us a tour.
After leading us down the street and into the tourist area of the waterfront we had originally been searching for, he showed us the boat, told us a little about where he would take us, and we accepted. $20 for all three of us got us an hour tour of Las isletas, a miniature archipelago of little islands that hug the shoreline of Lake Nicaragua. Many of the islands have houses built on them, mostly inhabited by extremely rich Nicaraguans or gringos. The guy who offered us the tour, who was thankfully very friendly beyond the point of paying him, knew who most of the owners of each house was and told us a little bit about almost every island we boated by. An hour later we were back where we had taken off, and started walking back towards the center of town.
However, we had walked only a couple blocks when we spotted some horse-drawn carriages (which are all over Granada) and, having read the evening before that they were relatively cheap and provided pretty extensive tours of the city, we decided to hop on one. Our driver, happy that he could tell his passengers all about his city in his native tongue, let us know about many of the buildings and sights in the city we had either only seen or read about. The tour did not last terribly long, but by the time we got dropped off in the central park it was around 2:30. In light of the fact that my companions were still not healthy enough to remember to include food in the days plans, I kindly informed them that I for one was absolutely starving and would love to get some lunch even if they wanted nothing.
We (that is, I) ate at a small restaurant in a mini-mall plaza near the hostel with tables out on their patio. The meal itself was not extremely noteworthy, but as Ashley L. was feeling particularly charitable that afternoon we were joined by Francisco, a street kid to whom Ash offered what remained of the juice her troubled stomach wasn’t enjoying anyway. Francisco told us a little about his life, and after finishing his treat asked for some money (give a mouse a cookie…) for some school supplies. Wanting to be sure that the money would be spent likewise, Ashley2 went with him to a nearby bookstore to get some pens and a notebook while I finished my meal.
After paying, we headed back to the hostel. Though we hadn’t done a ton of walking that day, the beating sun and heat more than anything had us pretty tired (though not having any food in their stomachs did not help Ashley2). As such, we decided to rent a movie from the hostel’s small collection and watched The Thomas Crown Affair with Pierce Brosnan. Decent flick. Anyway, Ashley2 took naps afterward while I used the computers to check my mail and read up on how the world was doing since last I checked. They slept quite awhile, and upon waking up we decided to just go out to the same Mexican place we had been the night before.
There turned out to be a huge parade-style event happening through central park and down the cobblestone restaurant avenue, consisting almost entirely of men (and some women) on horses. There were so many horses! They stretched farther than I could make out down the street, and a steady stream of them came in from around the bend by the park for a good half-hour before the street cleared out. There were a couple of accidents near our table, and a couple people fell off their horses who were a little spooked by the thick crowd of their own kind. The food was excellent again, and again we were entertained by the same group of street performers.
Though we were planning on going out dancing that night, since it was our last in Nicaragua, we all realized around 10:00 (as we were changing to go out) that we had to get up at 4:00 the next morning for an early bus ride. So, we decided, we’ll celebrate our trip together sometime back in Heredia, and go to sleep instead.
And that’s my trip to Nicaragua! Thanks for being patient with me getting the whole thing up. I really ended up writing a lot more than I thought I would, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Since I didn’t have my camera in all the locations we were at, I’m waiting to get pictures from Ashley2’s cameras before I can put them up here on the blog. I’ll try to get a post up early next week to let you know what’s been happening since I’ve been back, and what’s going to be happening in the next few weeks. Thanks, again, and as always, for your prayers and support. ¡Pura Vida! and God bless!
Friday, March 13
Nicaragua, part 2
Hello again! Here’s part two of two three about my trip to Nicaragua. I’ll just get right into it.
Tuesday, February 24
We got up super early that morning so we could get to Quetzal Trekkers by 6 am for breakfast and to store all of our stuff in their office. As promised, they gave us all the supplies we needed. After packing, I had: the backpack, my sleeping bag, mattress pad, a portion of the food we would bring, a long-sleeve shirt for the cold night, six liters of water, and some misc. odds and ends (toothbrush, etc). The pack really wasn’t that heavy, but by the time we would be done walking that day I would be more than ready to take it off. Breakfast consisted of peanut butter sandwiches, bananas, coffee, and hard-boiled eggs (hardly anyone wanted their egg, and I ended up eating three or so). As we packed and breakfasted, the entire group introduced themselves a bit. There were eight of us total: the three of us, three other tourists, and two guides.
The first guide was an Australian by the name of Locky (short for Lockland). Locky has been away from Australia for some time now – after volunteering for a few months for the Red Cross in Guatemala, he came to León to volunteer with the Quetzal people for a few months. He was super friendly, and I felt pretty privileged to have him leading the group. The other guide was a local Nicaraguan, named Oswaldo, or Oz, for short. Oswaldo speaks very little English (or so we were told…I never actually heard him say anything in English), but we talked with him plenty and got along great. He knows an incredible amount about the local wildlife and landscape, and it was abundantly clear he really enjoys his job. Oswaldo does a few of these hikes every week, and must be in absolutely incredible shape. He and Locky make a great team, as the two of them are pretty constantly bickering, verbally and physically, much to their own amusement and to that of the trekkers they guide. The other three tourists there were Europeans. One of them, a Swiss woman named Melina, was staying in the same hostel as we were before the hike. Melina teaches German in the area of Switzerland where she lives (she herself is trilingual – English/French/German – with pretty good Spanish too), and is currently on an extended vacation traveling most of Central America. The other two were Dutch – Nico and Claire. Claire is French by birth, but her mother moved when she was 12 or so, and later met Nico. The two of them used to work in human resources or tourism or something (I never really figured it out), and decided to quit their jobs to spend a few months in Latin America, not really sure what they’ll do upon returning. The three of us would get to know all five of these people very well over the next two days, as there was plenty of time to chat about each other’s lives on the (very) dusty trail.
After breakfast we hopped on a camioneta (and with all 8 of us wearing huge backpacks plus a few locals on board, it was pretty packed) to get to a bus station that would take us to the trailhead. Hopping off the camioneta we walked through a crowded market very much alive with the morning bustle of merchants selling everything from rice to gum to DVDs to haircuts, always motivated by the sight of blonde hair and white skin to make a sale. After finding the right bus, we loaded our backpacks in the back (Locky keeping a close eye on them) and took our seats. One of the most amusing parts of my day happened then. Two things for context: First, it’s entirely common to see Central Americans with t-shirts with random English phrases on them, oftentimes making English speakers wonder if the wearer knows what his or her shirt means. It’s also entirely common (and allowed) for vendors to board large buses before they depart and try to sell some things before the passengers head off. Sometimes they obnoxiously stand in front of all the seats and make a short speech about their product. We endured a short discourse by such a person who was excited to tell us about the miraculous effects of some herbal cream which for some reason that escapes me right now would make our lives infinitely better. As for the t-shirt he was wearing? In large print it clearly stated: “My job is to annoy you.” We all had a good laugh.
At about 8:30, we reached our stop…which turned out to be in the middle of a highway with no outstanding characteristics other than a small trailhead off to the side of the road a bit. In the distance (like, really, in the distance) Locky pointed out the volcano we would be climbing – Volcán Telica. It looked like it would take just about all day – and it did. After taking a couple “Here we are at the start” pictures and a few sips of our water, we started off.
The trail was actually in not too bad of shape. For almost the entire day it was wide enough for two people abreast, if we happened to be doing so. The one thing that none of us will forget was the dust. So. Much. Dust. It was absolutely incredible. Melina and I decided about halfway through the day that we had already eaten about 3 kilos each of dirt kicked up from the trail. It quickly became clear that we would be ridiculously dirty by the time we got back to civilization the next day. Many parts of the trail, it felt like walking on flour. Even though the spot where you put your foot was clearly solid earth, at times your shoe would still sink a good half-inch before you got any support.
After about 4 ½ hours of hiking (with very brief water breaks every half-hour or so) we stopped in a shady patch of trees for lunch, which by that point tasted absolutely delicious. It was a simple meal of gallo pinto (a special rice and beans mix which is everywhere in Costa Rica as well), tomato, cucumber, and tortillas. I ate what seemed at the time about five pounds of gallo pinto, and after everyone said they were full had some more. We indulged our legs to another 20 minutes or so of rest, and then started up again.
“Up” is the operative word here. We only had another three hours or so to go, but this second leg of the trek was considerably more inclined than the morning’s portion. Furthermore, the trees became very sparse at the same point the steepness became constant, and so we were in for a hot afternoon. By this point, we had sort of split into two groups – Oswaldo, Ashley2, and I would take off at a slightly faster pace while Locky, Nico, and Claire would take a slightly easier pace a ways back. Melina sort of bounced between the two groups at random. We weren’t in any hurry – we just seemed to get ahead and would take a break every once in a while to let them catch up. At one point the four of us in front stopped in a rare patch of shade and waited. Oswaldo distributed some firewood he collected to us, because he said there would be little where we camped that night. After the others reached us, we decided to wait a bit longer for a large cloud on its way towards us to provide some cover before the final ascent to the summit, now very much in sight (and much larger). While we rested, Os showed off his baseball skills by lobbing up chunks of the volcanic rock and using a huge branch to send them flying hundreds of feet away, down the volcano slope. Locky was not able to repeat the feat, consistently failing to make contact with the rocks he lofted to himself, much to the delight of Oswaldo. “¡Búscate una guitarra!” he taunted, employing an apparently common Nicaraguan phrase to ridicule batters – “Get yourself a guitar!”
Then we made our final push to the top. Oswaldo took us up a “shortcut,” which, while walkable, basically meant skipping the last leg of the trail and going straight up the side of the volcano to the crater’s edge. When I reached the top, I got three amazing views all at once. I looked behind me, where I had come from, and surveyed an infinite stretch of rolling land with various shades of greens and browns as forests and farmers’ fields scattered the space between the formidable hills. 180° behind me, there was a vast valley where the land leveled out and the rich volcanic soil allowed a vibrant mix of trees and shrubbery to thrive. Finally I took in the actual volcanic crater before me. Still a few hundred feet off, it was majestic and intimidating all at once. The sun having burned through what remained of our cloud cover, we got a clear view of the crater walls and slopes. The space directly in front of us ran gradually up to the crater’s edge, allowing us to walk straight up the edge itself. To the left and right, the crater wall slowly became higher as its outer side became steeper – it would be impossible to approach the crater from any side but the one from whence we came. Unlike most volcanoes a tourist will find on his or her travels, the total isolation of Telica and lack of road to its summit prevents many people from scaling it, and as such there are no barriers, safety rails, or anything of the sort up there. We literally could peer over the edge (were we brave/crazy enough to do so), though there was no way through the volcano’s steam and sheer depth that we could see anything below other than the fact that it was definitely a drop-off of hundreds of meters.
After appreciating the views for a bit, we headed down the opposite end of the ridge we had just scaled, down into a small enclosed clearing where we would camp for the night. It was about 4:30 and so, exhausted after 8 hours of hiking minus breaks, we simply lay down on the grass or sleeping mats and rested for a good hour or so. Later, Locky led us across the open valley, back towards but keeping below and off to one side of the crater. On the opposite side, we sat down on some rocks and enjoyed a spectacular sunset as the soft yet vibrant light of the sun fell back behind the Pacific horizon in a pleasant medley of reds and pinks. With the darkness came the cold, and when the sun had completely disappeared we headed back to the campsite where Os had made a very welcoming fire and a very welcomed meal of pasta with assorted vegetables.
After dinner we went back up to the crater’s edge to see if we would be able to see any lava below, but the steam was too thick. We waited a bit for it to clear up (while Ashley2 and others were freezing), but it never did. We headed back down the rocky slope by flashlight – which was slightly treacherous but no one was hurt. Making use of the coals of our dying fire we had some s’mores (how do you spell that?) and later rolled out the sleeping bags. The stars of the night sky by that point were utterly breathtaking. Nevertheless, my exhaustion didn’t allow me to enjoy them much longer, and it didn’t take me long to fall asleep after a remarkable (albeit tiring) day.
Wednesday, February 25
I woke up only once during the night to the sound of everyone moving about (keep in mind we were not in tents), and when I asked why, they said, “We’re moving under the trees – it’s raining!” I hadn’t even noticed until they said so, and deciding that it wasn’t that strong, I withdrew into my sleeping bag and went back to sleep. The next morning they told me that it did pick up a little bit, but nothing too severe. Also, there was a thin white horse walking around our campus that morning, and most people apparently had woken up again as it plodded amongst our sleeping bags during the night as well. I had no idea. Still, the skinny thing (which Os told me someone had just left up there to die) was happy to hang out with us until we left, eating the hard centers of our pineapple we had for breakfast.
Before we ate, though, Oswaldo woke those of us who wanted to accompany him up the ridge once more to watch the sunrise in the east. Leading us up a hill opposite the crater and overlooking our campsite, we sat down at the top around 5:30 and watched the sun come up just as beautifully as it had gone down the night before. Ashley L. and Locky had stayed behind and slept in a big more – Locky because was tired and seen plenty of sunrises from that point, and Ashley L. because she was unfortunately feeling terrible that morning. We didn’t really know what to do about it; apparently she hadn’t slept much in the night because she was constantly getting due to diarrhea issues. I felt really bad for her, but in the middle of nowhere on top of a volcano, what can you do? We packed up, and headed out.
The trail that day was much narrower, and pretty steep for the first few hours. The dust situation had not improved in the least; rather, we kicked up just as much the day before to add to our already gross conditions. Dust, dust, dust. I did remind myself over the course of the day that it was Ash Wednesday, and despite the fact I didn’t get to a church service that day, the whole “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” thing rang truer that day than perhaps any Ash Wednesday I’ve ever had. We took a break after getting through the roughest part, breaking out some snacks and starting to down our last bottles of water under a giant mango tree. Ashley was not feeling any better, and hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. After walking another couple hours through wide-open valleys that starkly contrasted the dense foliage we had just exited, we arrived at another tree where we took a rest. Ashley, still feeling awful and near the point of vomiting, finally did. Which was gross. But she felt a lot better afterward! The bad news was that she now had even less food in her system, but the good news was that there was only an hour or so of walking left.
Finally we arrived at San Jacinto, a small town near Telica where the Quetzal folks always take their exhausted customers for lunch at a local diner. Before eating we stopped at a small plot of land outside the town which has some mud pots, very much like those in the geyser area in Yellowstone Park back home. The smell was awful, but it was interesting to see them bubbling away. Much like the volcanic crater we had just left (and unlike Yellowstone), there were no barriers or catwalks to preserve the natural formations or protect the visitor who would be foolish enough to get too close. Os, priding himself on his knowledge of the sight before us, explained to me with a straight face that what I saw below me was not actually mud bud rather a complex series of natural chocolate springs. I smiled and teasingly told him he was an idiot, but he just laughed and told me I was missing out on the best tasting (albeit worst smelling) chocolate in the world. At the restaurant we had a very good meal of very Nicaraguan food, and afterward walked over to where we would grab a bus to León. On the bus almost everyone was either napping or half-asleep, excluding Oswaldo, who incredibly seemed pretty much totally unphased by the fact that he had hiked about 13 hours in the last 30. After getting back to the Quetzal Trekkers office in León, we said goodbye to Nico and Claire, took some pictures with our guides, and walked back to our hostel with Melina.
We originally had planned to take a bus to Masaya immediately after getting back to León, but because 1) we were exhausted, 2) we were filthy and could use shower at the hostel and 3) Ashley L. was still feeling terrible and wasn’t really in a condition to travel a few hours more in buses, we decided to stay another night in León and leave the next morning. All of us took our much-needed showers, and Ashley L. decided she would just take a nap while Ashley H. and I went out to get some dinner. We weren’t terribly hungry, so we just had a couple slices of pizza and cokes at a local place. Back at the hostel, Ashley2 and I played some card games before she went back to bed and Ashley H. and I went back out. We went to a bar recommended to us by Locky and Os – and we saw them there – called La Olla Quemada (The Burnt Pot). We didn’t stay long, but we did enjoy some live music by a local group playing some lovely traditional Nicaraguan music. After seeing Os and joining him and his buddies for a bit, we made our final farewells to Oswaldo and headed back to the hostel for an inviting night’s sleep.
I know I promised the second half, but since this post has gotten super long as well I’m going to leave it at these two days and post the final third later regarding our last few days in Masaya and Granada. Look for it soon! Take care of yourselves.
Tuesday, February 24
We got up super early that morning so we could get to Quetzal Trekkers by 6 am for breakfast and to store all of our stuff in their office. As promised, they gave us all the supplies we needed. After packing, I had: the backpack, my sleeping bag, mattress pad, a portion of the food we would bring, a long-sleeve shirt for the cold night, six liters of water, and some misc. odds and ends (toothbrush, etc). The pack really wasn’t that heavy, but by the time we would be done walking that day I would be more than ready to take it off. Breakfast consisted of peanut butter sandwiches, bananas, coffee, and hard-boiled eggs (hardly anyone wanted their egg, and I ended up eating three or so). As we packed and breakfasted, the entire group introduced themselves a bit. There were eight of us total: the three of us, three other tourists, and two guides.
The first guide was an Australian by the name of Locky (short for Lockland). Locky has been away from Australia for some time now – after volunteering for a few months for the Red Cross in Guatemala, he came to León to volunteer with the Quetzal people for a few months. He was super friendly, and I felt pretty privileged to have him leading the group. The other guide was a local Nicaraguan, named Oswaldo, or Oz, for short. Oswaldo speaks very little English (or so we were told…I never actually heard him say anything in English), but we talked with him plenty and got along great. He knows an incredible amount about the local wildlife and landscape, and it was abundantly clear he really enjoys his job. Oswaldo does a few of these hikes every week, and must be in absolutely incredible shape. He and Locky make a great team, as the two of them are pretty constantly bickering, verbally and physically, much to their own amusement and to that of the trekkers they guide. The other three tourists there were Europeans. One of them, a Swiss woman named Melina, was staying in the same hostel as we were before the hike. Melina teaches German in the area of Switzerland where she lives (she herself is trilingual – English/French/German – with pretty good Spanish too), and is currently on an extended vacation traveling most of Central America. The other two were Dutch – Nico and Claire. Claire is French by birth, but her mother moved when she was 12 or so, and later met Nico. The two of them used to work in human resources or tourism or something (I never really figured it out), and decided to quit their jobs to spend a few months in Latin America, not really sure what they’ll do upon returning. The three of us would get to know all five of these people very well over the next two days, as there was plenty of time to chat about each other’s lives on the (very) dusty trail.
After breakfast we hopped on a camioneta (and with all 8 of us wearing huge backpacks plus a few locals on board, it was pretty packed) to get to a bus station that would take us to the trailhead. Hopping off the camioneta we walked through a crowded market very much alive with the morning bustle of merchants selling everything from rice to gum to DVDs to haircuts, always motivated by the sight of blonde hair and white skin to make a sale. After finding the right bus, we loaded our backpacks in the back (Locky keeping a close eye on them) and took our seats. One of the most amusing parts of my day happened then. Two things for context: First, it’s entirely common to see Central Americans with t-shirts with random English phrases on them, oftentimes making English speakers wonder if the wearer knows what his or her shirt means. It’s also entirely common (and allowed) for vendors to board large buses before they depart and try to sell some things before the passengers head off. Sometimes they obnoxiously stand in front of all the seats and make a short speech about their product. We endured a short discourse by such a person who was excited to tell us about the miraculous effects of some herbal cream which for some reason that escapes me right now would make our lives infinitely better. As for the t-shirt he was wearing? In large print it clearly stated: “My job is to annoy you.” We all had a good laugh.
At about 8:30, we reached our stop…which turned out to be in the middle of a highway with no outstanding characteristics other than a small trailhead off to the side of the road a bit. In the distance (like, really, in the distance) Locky pointed out the volcano we would be climbing – Volcán Telica. It looked like it would take just about all day – and it did. After taking a couple “Here we are at the start” pictures and a few sips of our water, we started off.
The trail was actually in not too bad of shape. For almost the entire day it was wide enough for two people abreast, if we happened to be doing so. The one thing that none of us will forget was the dust. So. Much. Dust. It was absolutely incredible. Melina and I decided about halfway through the day that we had already eaten about 3 kilos each of dirt kicked up from the trail. It quickly became clear that we would be ridiculously dirty by the time we got back to civilization the next day. Many parts of the trail, it felt like walking on flour. Even though the spot where you put your foot was clearly solid earth, at times your shoe would still sink a good half-inch before you got any support.
After about 4 ½ hours of hiking (with very brief water breaks every half-hour or so) we stopped in a shady patch of trees for lunch, which by that point tasted absolutely delicious. It was a simple meal of gallo pinto (a special rice and beans mix which is everywhere in Costa Rica as well), tomato, cucumber, and tortillas. I ate what seemed at the time about five pounds of gallo pinto, and after everyone said they were full had some more. We indulged our legs to another 20 minutes or so of rest, and then started up again.
“Up” is the operative word here. We only had another three hours or so to go, but this second leg of the trek was considerably more inclined than the morning’s portion. Furthermore, the trees became very sparse at the same point the steepness became constant, and so we were in for a hot afternoon. By this point, we had sort of split into two groups – Oswaldo, Ashley2, and I would take off at a slightly faster pace while Locky, Nico, and Claire would take a slightly easier pace a ways back. Melina sort of bounced between the two groups at random. We weren’t in any hurry – we just seemed to get ahead and would take a break every once in a while to let them catch up. At one point the four of us in front stopped in a rare patch of shade and waited. Oswaldo distributed some firewood he collected to us, because he said there would be little where we camped that night. After the others reached us, we decided to wait a bit longer for a large cloud on its way towards us to provide some cover before the final ascent to the summit, now very much in sight (and much larger). While we rested, Os showed off his baseball skills by lobbing up chunks of the volcanic rock and using a huge branch to send them flying hundreds of feet away, down the volcano slope. Locky was not able to repeat the feat, consistently failing to make contact with the rocks he lofted to himself, much to the delight of Oswaldo. “¡Búscate una guitarra!” he taunted, employing an apparently common Nicaraguan phrase to ridicule batters – “Get yourself a guitar!”
Then we made our final push to the top. Oswaldo took us up a “shortcut,” which, while walkable, basically meant skipping the last leg of the trail and going straight up the side of the volcano to the crater’s edge. When I reached the top, I got three amazing views all at once. I looked behind me, where I had come from, and surveyed an infinite stretch of rolling land with various shades of greens and browns as forests and farmers’ fields scattered the space between the formidable hills. 180° behind me, there was a vast valley where the land leveled out and the rich volcanic soil allowed a vibrant mix of trees and shrubbery to thrive. Finally I took in the actual volcanic crater before me. Still a few hundred feet off, it was majestic and intimidating all at once. The sun having burned through what remained of our cloud cover, we got a clear view of the crater walls and slopes. The space directly in front of us ran gradually up to the crater’s edge, allowing us to walk straight up the edge itself. To the left and right, the crater wall slowly became higher as its outer side became steeper – it would be impossible to approach the crater from any side but the one from whence we came. Unlike most volcanoes a tourist will find on his or her travels, the total isolation of Telica and lack of road to its summit prevents many people from scaling it, and as such there are no barriers, safety rails, or anything of the sort up there. We literally could peer over the edge (were we brave/crazy enough to do so), though there was no way through the volcano’s steam and sheer depth that we could see anything below other than the fact that it was definitely a drop-off of hundreds of meters.
After appreciating the views for a bit, we headed down the opposite end of the ridge we had just scaled, down into a small enclosed clearing where we would camp for the night. It was about 4:30 and so, exhausted after 8 hours of hiking minus breaks, we simply lay down on the grass or sleeping mats and rested for a good hour or so. Later, Locky led us across the open valley, back towards but keeping below and off to one side of the crater. On the opposite side, we sat down on some rocks and enjoyed a spectacular sunset as the soft yet vibrant light of the sun fell back behind the Pacific horizon in a pleasant medley of reds and pinks. With the darkness came the cold, and when the sun had completely disappeared we headed back to the campsite where Os had made a very welcoming fire and a very welcomed meal of pasta with assorted vegetables.
After dinner we went back up to the crater’s edge to see if we would be able to see any lava below, but the steam was too thick. We waited a bit for it to clear up (while Ashley2 and others were freezing), but it never did. We headed back down the rocky slope by flashlight – which was slightly treacherous but no one was hurt. Making use of the coals of our dying fire we had some s’mores (how do you spell that?) and later rolled out the sleeping bags. The stars of the night sky by that point were utterly breathtaking. Nevertheless, my exhaustion didn’t allow me to enjoy them much longer, and it didn’t take me long to fall asleep after a remarkable (albeit tiring) day.
Wednesday, February 25
I woke up only once during the night to the sound of everyone moving about (keep in mind we were not in tents), and when I asked why, they said, “We’re moving under the trees – it’s raining!” I hadn’t even noticed until they said so, and deciding that it wasn’t that strong, I withdrew into my sleeping bag and went back to sleep. The next morning they told me that it did pick up a little bit, but nothing too severe. Also, there was a thin white horse walking around our campus that morning, and most people apparently had woken up again as it plodded amongst our sleeping bags during the night as well. I had no idea. Still, the skinny thing (which Os told me someone had just left up there to die) was happy to hang out with us until we left, eating the hard centers of our pineapple we had for breakfast.
Before we ate, though, Oswaldo woke those of us who wanted to accompany him up the ridge once more to watch the sunrise in the east. Leading us up a hill opposite the crater and overlooking our campsite, we sat down at the top around 5:30 and watched the sun come up just as beautifully as it had gone down the night before. Ashley L. and Locky had stayed behind and slept in a big more – Locky because was tired and seen plenty of sunrises from that point, and Ashley L. because she was unfortunately feeling terrible that morning. We didn’t really know what to do about it; apparently she hadn’t slept much in the night because she was constantly getting due to diarrhea issues. I felt really bad for her, but in the middle of nowhere on top of a volcano, what can you do? We packed up, and headed out.
The trail that day was much narrower, and pretty steep for the first few hours. The dust situation had not improved in the least; rather, we kicked up just as much the day before to add to our already gross conditions. Dust, dust, dust. I did remind myself over the course of the day that it was Ash Wednesday, and despite the fact I didn’t get to a church service that day, the whole “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” thing rang truer that day than perhaps any Ash Wednesday I’ve ever had. We took a break after getting through the roughest part, breaking out some snacks and starting to down our last bottles of water under a giant mango tree. Ashley was not feeling any better, and hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. After walking another couple hours through wide-open valleys that starkly contrasted the dense foliage we had just exited, we arrived at another tree where we took a rest. Ashley, still feeling awful and near the point of vomiting, finally did. Which was gross. But she felt a lot better afterward! The bad news was that she now had even less food in her system, but the good news was that there was only an hour or so of walking left.
Finally we arrived at San Jacinto, a small town near Telica where the Quetzal folks always take their exhausted customers for lunch at a local diner. Before eating we stopped at a small plot of land outside the town which has some mud pots, very much like those in the geyser area in Yellowstone Park back home. The smell was awful, but it was interesting to see them bubbling away. Much like the volcanic crater we had just left (and unlike Yellowstone), there were no barriers or catwalks to preserve the natural formations or protect the visitor who would be foolish enough to get too close. Os, priding himself on his knowledge of the sight before us, explained to me with a straight face that what I saw below me was not actually mud bud rather a complex series of natural chocolate springs. I smiled and teasingly told him he was an idiot, but he just laughed and told me I was missing out on the best tasting (albeit worst smelling) chocolate in the world. At the restaurant we had a very good meal of very Nicaraguan food, and afterward walked over to where we would grab a bus to León. On the bus almost everyone was either napping or half-asleep, excluding Oswaldo, who incredibly seemed pretty much totally unphased by the fact that he had hiked about 13 hours in the last 30. After getting back to the Quetzal Trekkers office in León, we said goodbye to Nico and Claire, took some pictures with our guides, and walked back to our hostel with Melina.
We originally had planned to take a bus to Masaya immediately after getting back to León, but because 1) we were exhausted, 2) we were filthy and could use shower at the hostel and 3) Ashley L. was still feeling terrible and wasn’t really in a condition to travel a few hours more in buses, we decided to stay another night in León and leave the next morning. All of us took our much-needed showers, and Ashley L. decided she would just take a nap while Ashley H. and I went out to get some dinner. We weren’t terribly hungry, so we just had a couple slices of pizza and cokes at a local place. Back at the hostel, Ashley2 and I played some card games before she went back to bed and Ashley H. and I went back out. We went to a bar recommended to us by Locky and Os – and we saw them there – called La Olla Quemada (The Burnt Pot). We didn’t stay long, but we did enjoy some live music by a local group playing some lovely traditional Nicaraguan music. After seeing Os and joining him and his buddies for a bit, we made our final farewells to Oswaldo and headed back to the hostel for an inviting night’s sleep.
I know I promised the second half, but since this post has gotten super long as well I’m going to leave it at these two days and post the final third later regarding our last few days in Masaya and Granada. Look for it soon! Take care of yourselves.
Friday, March 6
Nicarauga trip, part 1!
Hello to all after an extended absence from my posting on the blog! I have just returned (as of Sunday, that is) from a 10-day trip to Nicaragua and, as promised, I’d love to let you all know what exactly I was up to and how cool it was!
For those who were keeping track of me last semester, you may remember I took a weeklong trip to Panama. USAC, the study abroad program I’m in, facilitates such weeklong trips every semester – last October was Panama and this semester was Nicaragua. However, as Nicaragua is an extraordinarily cheap country to travel in and USAC would have charged me $500 to go with them, I decided less money and a longer, less schedule-ized trip would be a better option. As such, my friends Ashley Lyons and Ashley Hansen (to whom I’ll have to refer with last initials due to the same name – it caused some confusion during travels!), who were both here with me last semester as well, joined me and the three of us took off two Fridays ago – that is, February 20 – on our own to see what we could do by the time our classes called us back to Heredia.
Friday, February 20
Ashley2 (meaning both of them, another term I’ll be using) came over the night before because we had to get up at 4:00 am to grab a taxi into San José to the TicaBus station. TicaBus is a trans-Central American bus service that extends from Panama to Mexico; Ashley L. and I will use the same service when we go to Guatemala during Holy Week. The bus left around 6:00 (we were told to be present an hour in advance), and we spent most of the day traveling. My assigned seat (closer to Ashley2) was actually taken by a fussy old lady who decided for inexplicable reasons that she deserved the aisle seat and that I would be just fine in her window seat…and so it was. The bus itself was absolutely freezing, because they just blast the A/C the whole ride. After sleeping a few hours I talked a little bit with my stubborn seat companion (I was over it…really), whose name is Francisca. She’s a Nicaraguan (though Panamanian by birth) who was on her way to Managua after visiting family in the south. She told me a little bit about her now home country, and wished me a good experience in my travels.
The Nicaraguan border was pretty crazy. Most of our crossing consisted of us unloading luggage for and presenting papers to apathetic border patrol agents (particularly on the Nicaraguan side) who lazily stamped our passports and made no effort to even act interested in whether our luggage ought or ought not to be checked. I could have brought pretty much anything into Nicaragua and they would have had no idea…which was a scary thought. Anyway, after a few more hours in the bus we finally arrived in Managua, the capital city of Nicaragua.
As it was our first day and we were already tired from lack of sleep and an inactive day seated in a bus, we didn’t do a whole lot. We did check into the hostel Los Santos (the Saints), a comfortable if not entirely clean place to stay with a pleasantly open atmosphere. We did go out for a few hours, but mostly just to find an ATM (Ashley H. only had $US on hand and I had nothing), and we did manage to take out some córdobas (Nicaraguan currency – 20 córdobas = $1) for at least the first part of our trip. Afterward, we searched in vain for somewhere we could buy tickets to a baseball game, something Ashley L.’s guidebook recommended. After a modest dinner of PB&J sandwiches and other snacks which Ashley H. had brought with her, we decided to take a two hour nap until 9:00 at which point we wanted to go out and enjoy some Managuan nightlife. We ended up being so tired that we ignored our alarms, slept until 10:00, and after getting up decided to just sleep the rest of the night anyway and go out the next day.
Saturday, February 21
After plenty of sleep, I woke up around 8:00 and after a quick shower I grabbed a hammock outside our room and read a little of the latest novel I’ve been getting through (The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, almost done with it!) while waiting for Ash2 to get out of bed. After getting some bread for breakfast, we took a taxi to Las huellas (the footprints), a museum/exhibit in Managua in which one can see footprints from centuries ago that were preserved by a volcanic eruption and were discovered decades ago by Nicaraguan workers who were clearing out land for construction purposes. The place was very low-key, and very far off from just about anywhere else in the city. We were the only visitors at the time. Afterward we took a taxi to the beach of Lake Managua, where we encountered one of those amazing places on earth where you simply have to cross a fence to find yourself in a different economic setting – between streets in which dirty children selling gum maraud around looking for white people and streets with green grasses and tiki huts built for tourists. At the shoreline, we found a $2 boat tour of the lake we could take, which turned out to be basically a loop around one side of the lake with no information given. The boat was quite tall, and the waves were pretty enormous that day as well, so we had a pretty rocky ride – at times I felt a real (albeit very brief) moment of fear of capsizing.
After our boat adventure, we decided to head towards Managua’s central plaza where a number of important buildings, monuments, and parks are all within a few blocks of each other. After seeing a beautiful monument to Ruben Darío (a native Nicaraguan and one of Latin America’s most beloved poets), we approached the main plaza which is surrounded by an old cathedral, the presidential palace, and a couple other important buildings we didn’t take the time to investigate. While relaxing for a water break (it was hot out!) we were approached by a couple of street kids. At first they wanted to sell us stuff (cute little flowers made of reeds which rot a few hours after you buy them – they’re all over Nicaragua), but after establishing that we weren’t buying they decided they didn’t have anything else to do so they just sat down and started talking to us. I was a little uncomfortable at first, but Ashley L. is so incredibly quick to warm up to people that we ended up talking with them for some time. Just then a motorcycle with a couple of Latinos entered the plaza. I had already established a healthy fear of all things Managua, thanks to the constant threats of taxi drivers and locals who had basically been telling us so far never to walk anywhere (no matter what time of day), so naturally a couple of bruisers who looked like they could be in a biker gang (in fact, it turned out they were) did nothing to make me feel any more relaxed. Ironically, they turned out to be one of the best parts of my day – the street kids we were with asked them where they were from, and they said, of course, Costa Rica. Ashley2 and I all thought (and almost said) “We are too!” After rephrasing the thought to “Cool, we live in Costa Rica!” we started talking with them. They turned out to be a very friendly pair of ticos – from the Costa Rican biker gang “Steel Angels.”
After a quick lunch of packed sandwiches and mangos (during which two police officers seemed to be staying within eyesight of our park bench – to protect us? we thought, half in jest and half seriously), we visited a couple more parks. One included a giant silhouette monument to Augusto Sandino, the historic heroic mascot of the FSLN, or Sandinistas, the current political party in power. Speaking of politics, I found it very noteworthy that in all of Nicaragua (but especially in Managua) one cannot escape the plentiful political propaganda that the Sandinistas have established. Huge signs abound depicting Sandinista political figures (usually Daniel Ortega, the current president) with inspiring messages like “¡Vamos por más victorias!”, “¡El pueblo, el presidente!”, or “¡Cumplirle al pueblo es cumplirle a Dios!” (Let’s keep going for more victory! The people – the president! Doing it for the people is to do it for God! [that last one being a bit difficult to translate accurately]). Though the rampant poverty testifies to a different reality, one would certainly get the impression from billboard optimism that the country is well on its way to being (if not already) a gem of Latin America.
After returning to the hostel we went out to a Mexican restaurant with great food, though it was mysteriously not busy for a Saturday night. After food we went hunting for a discoteca (dance club), but ended up taking taxis to four different places (one was closed, another played “prom slow dance” music almost exclusively, and another turned out not to even have a dance floor) until we finally got to Matrix, a rowdy club in central Managua. There we made a couple acquaintances, including Fannie, a delightfully friendly (albeit slightly tipsy) nica (or Nicaraguan – the same as “tico” for “Costa Rican”) who danced with us. Eventually Ashley H. became a bit tired of the attention her blonde gringa looks were earning her, and I ended up dancing with her most of the night so as to fend off some of the locals who were hoping we weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. Overall we had a lot of fun, but around 1:30 we called it quits and took a cab back to the hostel to grab a few hours of sleep before an early bus ride the next day.
Sunday, February 22
After about four hours of sleep we got up, had breakfast at the hostel, and grabbed a cab to the bus station where we found a microbus to León. We ended up waiting awhile for the bus to get to the station, but it was a pleasant ride. There was a large group of Norwegian girls on the same ride, and it was a little strange to hear a language that I didn’t understand over the course of the 2-hour trip (on a side note, I’ve noticed an unusual amount of Scandinavians in Latin America – they’re everywhere down here!). Ashley2 napped a bit, while I put my iPod on and read some more Wilde. Wherever and whenever you get off your bus in Nicaragua, you are guaranteed to have a multitude of taxi drivers at your disposal, and León was no exception. Ten minutes later we arrived at LazyBones hostel, a great little place with cheap rooms and free internet, coffee, swimming pool, and pool table. After unpacking we started wandering the streets of León (though we were quite tired from not sleeping much). Despite seeing some beautiful sites around the city – including Basilica Catedral de la Asunción (Cathedral of the Assumption), the largest cathedral in Central America – we soon realized that very little in the way of restaurants or stores were open, as it was Sunday.
Thus, we went to a local supermarket, bought some basics for a simple dinner, and went back to the hostel to relax. After a day of little sleep, bus rides, and walking the city for a few hours we were ready to just crash. A short swim in the pool felt great, and we considered following it up by going to the local movie theater. Instead, some of the other guys in the hostel popped in The Dark Knight on the TV by the pool, and as Ashley2 had never seen it and I wanted to see it again, we made that our entertainment for the night (Tracy Dahl-Webb, if you’re reading this, I still want to watch it with you when I get back!!). After the movie, we had dinner, used the internet, read a little bit, played some card games, and finally went to bed after making some on-the-fly plans for the following day.
Monday, February 23
Breakfast at the hostel was cheap and tasty. The first thing we did after leaving the hostel was go to the office of Quetzal Trekkers in León, an organization we read about in brochures in the hostel the day before. Quetzal Trekkers is a group of volunteers with locations in both León and Guatemala. For relatively little cost, they take able-bodied tourists on a number of backpacking hikes up volcanoes and other such trips, providing everything from water and food to sleeping bags and hiking gear. 100% of their proceeds go to a sister organization called Las tías (the aunties) which helps street kids who would normally not receive any sort of education or opportunities for positive social interaction and participation that Las tías facilitates. After checking out trip options, we told the office we would come back that evening to make a reservation for the following day.
Near a central market we hopped on a camioneta (basically a pickup with benches in back that runs short transport routes around town for 3 córdobas [15 cents]/person) that took us to a smaller market where we found our bus to Las peñitas, a small but lovely beach near León on the pacific coast of Nicaragua. There weren’t a ton of people there – our guidebook said to expect deserted beaches on weekdays – but we didn’t mind. It was a hot day, but thankfully a few hours after a strong sun we enjoyed some cloud cover. The waves were enormous, but that didn’t keep us out of the water (we were careful, mom!). We spent about a half-hour simply diving under the giant waves that packed a punch if you didn’t get under them fast enough (in this we were not alone – a large group of Scandinavians were there as well…), then headed in to relax on the sand a bit. On a whim, we buried Ashley H. in the sand and took some photos. After excavating her, we were approached by a bold Nicaraguan boy of about 11 years who, after failing to sell us his shell necklaces, declared Ashley L. to be his girlfriend (much to our amusement, of course). We washed off the sand, grabbed a table at a nearby restaurant and had a light lunch and cold drinks before grabbing a bus to León.
Once back in León, we went back to the Quetzal Trekkers office to finalize a 2-day hike up and down Volcán Telica, starting the following morning. Not particularly hungry at this point, we grabbed some frozen coffee and slushies at a local café after which we head to the movie theatre for an evening showing of “Simplemente no te quiere” (“He’s just not that into you”). When we arrived back at the hostel, we packed all of our things and showered in preparation for the following day, when we needed to be at Quetzal Trekkers at 6:00 am for breakfast and prep for the hike. Excited for the adventure that awaited us, we slept well that night (we would need it!).
Ok, this post has become ridiculously long, and I’m only halfway through the trip! As I’ve been working on this for a few hours now, I’ll leave you with this for now and get the next half up in a few days. Sorry for making you wait for the post, but as you can see there’s plenty to tell! I’ll be typing up part two over the next few days and post sometime next week. Pictures are also on the way! Thanks as always for the prayers and support. I really miss you all. Peace!
For those who were keeping track of me last semester, you may remember I took a weeklong trip to Panama. USAC, the study abroad program I’m in, facilitates such weeklong trips every semester – last October was Panama and this semester was Nicaragua. However, as Nicaragua is an extraordinarily cheap country to travel in and USAC would have charged me $500 to go with them, I decided less money and a longer, less schedule-ized trip would be a better option. As such, my friends Ashley Lyons and Ashley Hansen (to whom I’ll have to refer with last initials due to the same name – it caused some confusion during travels!), who were both here with me last semester as well, joined me and the three of us took off two Fridays ago – that is, February 20 – on our own to see what we could do by the time our classes called us back to Heredia.
Friday, February 20
Ashley2 (meaning both of them, another term I’ll be using) came over the night before because we had to get up at 4:00 am to grab a taxi into San José to the TicaBus station. TicaBus is a trans-Central American bus service that extends from Panama to Mexico; Ashley L. and I will use the same service when we go to Guatemala during Holy Week. The bus left around 6:00 (we were told to be present an hour in advance), and we spent most of the day traveling. My assigned seat (closer to Ashley2) was actually taken by a fussy old lady who decided for inexplicable reasons that she deserved the aisle seat and that I would be just fine in her window seat…and so it was. The bus itself was absolutely freezing, because they just blast the A/C the whole ride. After sleeping a few hours I talked a little bit with my stubborn seat companion (I was over it…really), whose name is Francisca. She’s a Nicaraguan (though Panamanian by birth) who was on her way to Managua after visiting family in the south. She told me a little bit about her now home country, and wished me a good experience in my travels.
The Nicaraguan border was pretty crazy. Most of our crossing consisted of us unloading luggage for and presenting papers to apathetic border patrol agents (particularly on the Nicaraguan side) who lazily stamped our passports and made no effort to even act interested in whether our luggage ought or ought not to be checked. I could have brought pretty much anything into Nicaragua and they would have had no idea…which was a scary thought. Anyway, after a few more hours in the bus we finally arrived in Managua, the capital city of Nicaragua.
As it was our first day and we were already tired from lack of sleep and an inactive day seated in a bus, we didn’t do a whole lot. We did check into the hostel Los Santos (the Saints), a comfortable if not entirely clean place to stay with a pleasantly open atmosphere. We did go out for a few hours, but mostly just to find an ATM (Ashley H. only had $US on hand and I had nothing), and we did manage to take out some córdobas (Nicaraguan currency – 20 córdobas = $1) for at least the first part of our trip. Afterward, we searched in vain for somewhere we could buy tickets to a baseball game, something Ashley L.’s guidebook recommended. After a modest dinner of PB&J sandwiches and other snacks which Ashley H. had brought with her, we decided to take a two hour nap until 9:00 at which point we wanted to go out and enjoy some Managuan nightlife. We ended up being so tired that we ignored our alarms, slept until 10:00, and after getting up decided to just sleep the rest of the night anyway and go out the next day.
Saturday, February 21
After plenty of sleep, I woke up around 8:00 and after a quick shower I grabbed a hammock outside our room and read a little of the latest novel I’ve been getting through (The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, almost done with it!) while waiting for Ash2 to get out of bed. After getting some bread for breakfast, we took a taxi to Las huellas (the footprints), a museum/exhibit in Managua in which one can see footprints from centuries ago that were preserved by a volcanic eruption and were discovered decades ago by Nicaraguan workers who were clearing out land for construction purposes. The place was very low-key, and very far off from just about anywhere else in the city. We were the only visitors at the time. Afterward we took a taxi to the beach of Lake Managua, where we encountered one of those amazing places on earth where you simply have to cross a fence to find yourself in a different economic setting – between streets in which dirty children selling gum maraud around looking for white people and streets with green grasses and tiki huts built for tourists. At the shoreline, we found a $2 boat tour of the lake we could take, which turned out to be basically a loop around one side of the lake with no information given. The boat was quite tall, and the waves were pretty enormous that day as well, so we had a pretty rocky ride – at times I felt a real (albeit very brief) moment of fear of capsizing.
After our boat adventure, we decided to head towards Managua’s central plaza where a number of important buildings, monuments, and parks are all within a few blocks of each other. After seeing a beautiful monument to Ruben Darío (a native Nicaraguan and one of Latin America’s most beloved poets), we approached the main plaza which is surrounded by an old cathedral, the presidential palace, and a couple other important buildings we didn’t take the time to investigate. While relaxing for a water break (it was hot out!) we were approached by a couple of street kids. At first they wanted to sell us stuff (cute little flowers made of reeds which rot a few hours after you buy them – they’re all over Nicaragua), but after establishing that we weren’t buying they decided they didn’t have anything else to do so they just sat down and started talking to us. I was a little uncomfortable at first, but Ashley L. is so incredibly quick to warm up to people that we ended up talking with them for some time. Just then a motorcycle with a couple of Latinos entered the plaza. I had already established a healthy fear of all things Managua, thanks to the constant threats of taxi drivers and locals who had basically been telling us so far never to walk anywhere (no matter what time of day), so naturally a couple of bruisers who looked like they could be in a biker gang (in fact, it turned out they were) did nothing to make me feel any more relaxed. Ironically, they turned out to be one of the best parts of my day – the street kids we were with asked them where they were from, and they said, of course, Costa Rica. Ashley2 and I all thought (and almost said) “We are too!” After rephrasing the thought to “Cool, we live in Costa Rica!” we started talking with them. They turned out to be a very friendly pair of ticos – from the Costa Rican biker gang “Steel Angels.”
After a quick lunch of packed sandwiches and mangos (during which two police officers seemed to be staying within eyesight of our park bench – to protect us? we thought, half in jest and half seriously), we visited a couple more parks. One included a giant silhouette monument to Augusto Sandino, the historic heroic mascot of the FSLN, or Sandinistas, the current political party in power. Speaking of politics, I found it very noteworthy that in all of Nicaragua (but especially in Managua) one cannot escape the plentiful political propaganda that the Sandinistas have established. Huge signs abound depicting Sandinista political figures (usually Daniel Ortega, the current president) with inspiring messages like “¡Vamos por más victorias!”, “¡El pueblo, el presidente!”, or “¡Cumplirle al pueblo es cumplirle a Dios!” (Let’s keep going for more victory! The people – the president! Doing it for the people is to do it for God! [that last one being a bit difficult to translate accurately]). Though the rampant poverty testifies to a different reality, one would certainly get the impression from billboard optimism that the country is well on its way to being (if not already) a gem of Latin America.
After returning to the hostel we went out to a Mexican restaurant with great food, though it was mysteriously not busy for a Saturday night. After food we went hunting for a discoteca (dance club), but ended up taking taxis to four different places (one was closed, another played “prom slow dance” music almost exclusively, and another turned out not to even have a dance floor) until we finally got to Matrix, a rowdy club in central Managua. There we made a couple acquaintances, including Fannie, a delightfully friendly (albeit slightly tipsy) nica (or Nicaraguan – the same as “tico” for “Costa Rican”) who danced with us. Eventually Ashley H. became a bit tired of the attention her blonde gringa looks were earning her, and I ended up dancing with her most of the night so as to fend off some of the locals who were hoping we weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. Overall we had a lot of fun, but around 1:30 we called it quits and took a cab back to the hostel to grab a few hours of sleep before an early bus ride the next day.
Sunday, February 22
After about four hours of sleep we got up, had breakfast at the hostel, and grabbed a cab to the bus station where we found a microbus to León. We ended up waiting awhile for the bus to get to the station, but it was a pleasant ride. There was a large group of Norwegian girls on the same ride, and it was a little strange to hear a language that I didn’t understand over the course of the 2-hour trip (on a side note, I’ve noticed an unusual amount of Scandinavians in Latin America – they’re everywhere down here!). Ashley2 napped a bit, while I put my iPod on and read some more Wilde. Wherever and whenever you get off your bus in Nicaragua, you are guaranteed to have a multitude of taxi drivers at your disposal, and León was no exception. Ten minutes later we arrived at LazyBones hostel, a great little place with cheap rooms and free internet, coffee, swimming pool, and pool table. After unpacking we started wandering the streets of León (though we were quite tired from not sleeping much). Despite seeing some beautiful sites around the city – including Basilica Catedral de la Asunción (Cathedral of the Assumption), the largest cathedral in Central America – we soon realized that very little in the way of restaurants or stores were open, as it was Sunday.
Thus, we went to a local supermarket, bought some basics for a simple dinner, and went back to the hostel to relax. After a day of little sleep, bus rides, and walking the city for a few hours we were ready to just crash. A short swim in the pool felt great, and we considered following it up by going to the local movie theater. Instead, some of the other guys in the hostel popped in The Dark Knight on the TV by the pool, and as Ashley2 had never seen it and I wanted to see it again, we made that our entertainment for the night (Tracy Dahl-Webb, if you’re reading this, I still want to watch it with you when I get back!!). After the movie, we had dinner, used the internet, read a little bit, played some card games, and finally went to bed after making some on-the-fly plans for the following day.
Monday, February 23
Breakfast at the hostel was cheap and tasty. The first thing we did after leaving the hostel was go to the office of Quetzal Trekkers in León, an organization we read about in brochures in the hostel the day before. Quetzal Trekkers is a group of volunteers with locations in both León and Guatemala. For relatively little cost, they take able-bodied tourists on a number of backpacking hikes up volcanoes and other such trips, providing everything from water and food to sleeping bags and hiking gear. 100% of their proceeds go to a sister organization called Las tías (the aunties) which helps street kids who would normally not receive any sort of education or opportunities for positive social interaction and participation that Las tías facilitates. After checking out trip options, we told the office we would come back that evening to make a reservation for the following day.
Near a central market we hopped on a camioneta (basically a pickup with benches in back that runs short transport routes around town for 3 córdobas [15 cents]/person) that took us to a smaller market where we found our bus to Las peñitas, a small but lovely beach near León on the pacific coast of Nicaragua. There weren’t a ton of people there – our guidebook said to expect deserted beaches on weekdays – but we didn’t mind. It was a hot day, but thankfully a few hours after a strong sun we enjoyed some cloud cover. The waves were enormous, but that didn’t keep us out of the water (we were careful, mom!). We spent about a half-hour simply diving under the giant waves that packed a punch if you didn’t get under them fast enough (in this we were not alone – a large group of Scandinavians were there as well…), then headed in to relax on the sand a bit. On a whim, we buried Ashley H. in the sand and took some photos. After excavating her, we were approached by a bold Nicaraguan boy of about 11 years who, after failing to sell us his shell necklaces, declared Ashley L. to be his girlfriend (much to our amusement, of course). We washed off the sand, grabbed a table at a nearby restaurant and had a light lunch and cold drinks before grabbing a bus to León.
Once back in León, we went back to the Quetzal Trekkers office to finalize a 2-day hike up and down Volcán Telica, starting the following morning. Not particularly hungry at this point, we grabbed some frozen coffee and slushies at a local café after which we head to the movie theatre for an evening showing of “Simplemente no te quiere” (“He’s just not that into you”). When we arrived back at the hostel, we packed all of our things and showered in preparation for the following day, when we needed to be at Quetzal Trekkers at 6:00 am for breakfast and prep for the hike. Excited for the adventure that awaited us, we slept well that night (we would need it!).
Ok, this post has become ridiculously long, and I’m only halfway through the trip! As I’ve been working on this for a few hours now, I’ll leave you with this for now and get the next half up in a few days. Sorry for making you wait for the post, but as you can see there’s plenty to tell! I’ll be typing up part two over the next few days and post sometime next week. Pictures are also on the way! Thanks as always for the prayers and support. I really miss you all. Peace!
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