I've just hit the ground running in Leon, Nicaragua. Being a tour leader in a new place can be a bit of a nightmare, but these days I try to see it as a chance to explore and discover information and I see it as a bit of a challenge. I'd done a bit of googling about Leon last night and stumbled upon nextstop.com, where you can create your own travel guides. It is a pretty cool site, that combined with wikitravel I came up with a couple cool places to check out, my favorite being Cafe La Rosita which is just off of the parque central. Holy hell, they have the best iced coffee I've had in AGES and a killer orange cake. Oh me oh my, I am a sucker for a good cup of coffee. Anyhow it was another one of those days that was made better by a bit of time playing in a cafe. That combined with a HILARIOUS trip to the police station to report a stolen camera (a story which I won't recount here) made it a memorable first afternoon in Leon.
Tomorrow: beaches.
ADIOS CHELES!
Showing posts with label Nicaragua. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nicaragua. Show all posts
Friday, December 18, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
how to give back (and not make things worse) while you travel
To assuage some of that first world guilt we all carry around a lot of people come on my tours and want to 'give back.' I think that this is a great, fantastic, and honorable intention, it just goes wrong so many times. Rather than attacking the tourists for not having a clue and constantly sticking their foot in 'it,' I figure I can write something about how to give back in a good way and maybe one or two of you fair readers will learn something and actually make a difference while you'' are out exploring our fair planet. All of this is based on my experience, and in no way am I claiming to be an 'expert.'
1. Stop giving things to beggars, especially kids.
Hey I know kids are cute, and when they have dirty snotty faces and ask you for food you really really really really want to give them something. It feels really cruel to stand there with your pringles and not give them anything but giving them chips/apples/ a bottle of water is a shitty thing to do. Why? If kids can get food by standing outside a gas station where they know tourist buses stop, they are going to do it. Why sit in school with a growling belly when dumb gringos are going to give you something to eat? One kid turns to three, three to five, and suddenly half the school is out begging and not going to school. If that person isn't a kid, why are they going go get a job if they can survive just fine on handouts? Aid, handouts, gifts, anything that is given with no impetus to improve oneself only hampers, it doesn't encourage development (look at what has happened to all the First Nations in Canada and the US).
2. Don't buy things from kids.
Kids are cute, are you really going to bargain with a 5 year old? Parents are smart, if their kid can make more money than them why are they going to send them to school? Kids who work on the streets are exposed to a lot more dangers as well. Child sex abuses are rampant through many areas of the developing world, when kids are working on the streets they are more exposed to these dangers.
3. Don't volunteer in a place which doesn't require a minimum commitment of time and a background check.
We wouldn't want our kids exposed to just anyone who walked in off the street and wanted to hang out with them, you shouldn't want other people's kids exposed to that either. You should want a place that you volunteer for to care about who has contact with them. Kids are also very sensitive to change, if you can't commit to make a positive difference by volunteering for a longer period of time figure out another way to give back (0ften a monetary donation is the best way to do this). I know that people love the idea of volunteering at orphanages, after-school programs, etc. But the main purpose of volunteering is to improve these kids' lives, not to take cool photos of you with kids, or to make you feel good, right?
4. Buy from fair trade vendors
It costs more because it is fair trade, make sense? If you are on a budget, buy one or two smaller items from a fair trade place. If you have a bit more to spend try and buy the majority of your gifts/souvenirs/etc from fair trade vendors, co-ops, or collectives.
5. Don't buy antique textiles, jewelry, artifacts, shells, coral, bones, etc.
Often times Maya and Hill Tribeswomen will sell their priceless textiles for a pittance to support their families. You take it home and ancient techniques as well as a small chunk of cultural heritage are lost. Unless you are a collector you really won't be that hurt by buying something new. As far as things from the natural world go, unless you really hate the environment you can understand that if everyone goes home with a black coral bracelet from Khao San soon there will be no coral left. Not so different from Ivory, animal skins, etc.
6. Eat somewhere that makes a difference
Asia is full of amazing projects which give back to the local community: Friends, Romdeng, Java (all inPhnom Penh), Starfish Bakery (Sihanoukville), Sala Bai and Chakmar (both inSiem Reap), Makphet (Vientiane), Tamanak Lao (Luang Prabang), Staff of Life (Danang), KOTO and Baguettes y Chocolate (Hanoi), Streets and Blue Dragon (Hoi An).
I'm told there is a similar project in Granada, Nicaragua, I'll have to check it out when I am back.
Full belly, satisfied soul, happy person.
7. Support smaller, locally/family run businesses.
The same reason it makes you feel good to go to your local book shop rather than Barnes and Nobles, staying at a small posada run by a family, or eating at a small cafe will stimulate the local economy and give you a family experience.
8. Give some money
Choose a project that puts a smile on your face, look at their financials and give them some of your hard earned dough. It'll probably a tax write off (not that I even know what that means).
9. Pay a bit more when you go to ride the Elephants
Projects which take better care of their animals usually cost more. Do you know how much it costs to feed an elephant? Plus you don't want to ride a sad elephant. Elephant Conservation Center and Elephant Nature Park (both just outside Chiang Mai) are great projects. Tiger Trails (Luang Prabang) also runs a much more humane operation.
Cool resources: stayanotherday, childsafe, friends international
Happy travels.
1. Stop giving things to beggars, especially kids.
Hey I know kids are cute, and when they have dirty snotty faces and ask you for food you really really really really want to give them something. It feels really cruel to stand there with your pringles and not give them anything but giving them chips/apples/ a bottle of water is a shitty thing to do. Why? If kids can get food by standing outside a gas station where they know tourist buses stop, they are going to do it. Why sit in school with a growling belly when dumb gringos are going to give you something to eat? One kid turns to three, three to five, and suddenly half the school is out begging and not going to school. If that person isn't a kid, why are they going go get a job if they can survive just fine on handouts? Aid, handouts, gifts, anything that is given with no impetus to improve oneself only hampers, it doesn't encourage development (look at what has happened to all the First Nations in Canada and the US).
2. Don't buy things from kids.
Kids are cute, are you really going to bargain with a 5 year old? Parents are smart, if their kid can make more money than them why are they going to send them to school? Kids who work on the streets are exposed to a lot more dangers as well. Child sex abuses are rampant through many areas of the developing world, when kids are working on the streets they are more exposed to these dangers.
3. Don't volunteer in a place which doesn't require a minimum commitment of time and a background check.
We wouldn't want our kids exposed to just anyone who walked in off the street and wanted to hang out with them, you shouldn't want other people's kids exposed to that either. You should want a place that you volunteer for to care about who has contact with them. Kids are also very sensitive to change, if you can't commit to make a positive difference by volunteering for a longer period of time figure out another way to give back (0ften a monetary donation is the best way to do this). I know that people love the idea of volunteering at orphanages, after-school programs, etc. But the main purpose of volunteering is to improve these kids' lives, not to take cool photos of you with kids, or to make you feel good, right?
4. Buy from fair trade vendors
It costs more because it is fair trade, make sense? If you are on a budget, buy one or two smaller items from a fair trade place. If you have a bit more to spend try and buy the majority of your gifts/souvenirs/etc from fair trade vendors, co-ops, or collectives.
5. Don't buy antique textiles, jewelry, artifacts, shells, coral, bones, etc.
Often times Maya and Hill Tribeswomen will sell their priceless textiles for a pittance to support their families. You take it home and ancient techniques as well as a small chunk of cultural heritage are lost. Unless you are a collector you really won't be that hurt by buying something new. As far as things from the natural world go, unless you really hate the environment you can understand that if everyone goes home with a black coral bracelet from Khao San soon there will be no coral left. Not so different from Ivory, animal skins, etc.
6. Eat somewhere that makes a difference
Asia is full of amazing projects which give back to the local community: Friends, Romdeng, Java (all inPhnom Penh), Starfish Bakery (Sihanoukville), Sala Bai and Chakmar (both inSiem Reap), Makphet (Vientiane), Tamanak Lao (Luang Prabang), Staff of Life (Danang), KOTO and Baguettes y Chocolate (Hanoi), Streets and Blue Dragon (Hoi An).
I'm told there is a similar project in Granada, Nicaragua, I'll have to check it out when I am back.
Full belly, satisfied soul, happy person.
7. Support smaller, locally/family run businesses.
The same reason it makes you feel good to go to your local book shop rather than Barnes and Nobles, staying at a small posada run by a family, or eating at a small cafe will stimulate the local economy and give you a family experience.
8. Give some money
Choose a project that puts a smile on your face, look at their financials and give them some of your hard earned dough. It'll probably a tax write off (not that I even know what that means).
9. Pay a bit more when you go to ride the Elephants
Projects which take better care of their animals usually cost more. Do you know how much it costs to feed an elephant? Plus you don't want to ride a sad elephant. Elephant Conservation Center and Elephant Nature Park (both just outside Chiang Mai) are great projects. Tiger Trails (Luang Prabang) also runs a much more humane operation.
Cool resources: stayanotherday, childsafe, friends international
Happy travels.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
quick and dirty guide: the central 7 and mexico
(B this entry is for you)
I'm thinking someone should pay me to be a travel adviser, or something to that end, but maybe I will get paid back in street phad thai and good karma for all this writing I am doing.
B asked about belize/honduras versus costa rica/nicaragua which I would say are two very worthy choices to choose between and led me to think about what all the countries are like in central. I'm planning on getting to writing mini-guides on those countries that I have not yet covered but I figure I'll start with a what we might call a country briefing. I'm starting North and moving South, try to keep up. Oh and these are my opinions, nothing more.
MÉXICO
Mexico has just about everything. Rich in culture, diverse in landscape, I can't really cover it all here. But my general feeling of méxico is, 'GUAU!' It is big, it has states, and the food in INCREDIBLE.
You could spend months or years exploring it: surfing, diving, mayan ruins, climbing volcanoes, visiting pueblitos, getting yourself lost in churches, meeting the indigenous people, swimming in lakes, exploring canyons. Chiapas is fantastic, the Yucatan (and associated states) is divine, and D.F. will blow your mind.
GUATEMALA
My soul lives in Guate. Highlands, black beans, incredible textiles, gorgeous colonial cities, TIKAL, and the warmest latinos on the block, what more can you ask for? Did I mention the coffee and chocolate?
BELIZE
For a cultural shmorgasborg, postcard beaches, and lush jungle Belize takes the cake. It is small, accessible, easy to get around, and full of friendly faces. Belize combines lots of outdoor activities with a carribean attitude, plus just about everyone speaks English. It isn't as cheap as other countries, but you can do it on a budget. Most people go for the diving, end up exploring a cave or two, and maybe some nice ruins. Don't miss the Marie Sharps.
HONDURAS
Considering the current political strife, Honduras might not be your first choice. Honduras is in a word: strange. The catrachos are different from the other Latins and the Bay Islands are a world unto themselves. Copán has lovely ruins (but is more Guatemala than Honduras), las Islas Bahia have some great diving (and it is CHEAP), I've heard other places are great, but I haven't seen much. Most people stick to the islands and head on to the next place. If you want to get off the beaten track and see something new it could be a glorious adventure, but I am not making any promises. Combined with Belize it could be a cool diving vacation (there are direct flights between Belize city and San Pedro Sula).
EL SAV
Can't comment too much. Heard the coast is a great place for surfing. Pupusas seem motivation enough to check it out, but then again most people don't travel just so they can try the local food.
NICARAGUA
Could the Nicas be any nicer? Seriously. My best best best friends all live in Nicaragua. Traffic is usually caused by cows. Nicaragua is considered the next big thing though the economic crisis may have slowed that for a bit. If you want to experience almost everything Central has to offer (islands, volcanoes, diving, surfing, jungles, colonial cities) you could stay in Nicaragua and see almost everything. Boasting two of the longest coast lines in the region, two colonial gems, and decent infrastructure, it combines the variety of Costa Rica with the wildness of the other countries.
COSTA RICA
Costa Rica has grown on me. The people are unique and possess a subtle culture that will crawl into you heart and find a home, just give it time. If you like wildlife, getting outdoors and varied landscapes you will be blown away by Costa Rica. Not as safe as some people will have you think, it is still welcoming and lovely. The tourist infrastructure makes doing things a breeze, but there are still relatively undeveloped pockets, they just require 4 wheel drive and a bit more patience. Make friends with the Ticos, they know the best places and love to have a good time. Throw Nicaragua in the mix and you have an interesting balance of two very different cultures, the opportunity to do more outdoor sports than you can imagine and a hundred possibilities for adventure.
PANAMA
My Panama experience is limited to Bocas Del Toro, and I dug that. Panama City is rumored to be quite and adventure, David and the highlands come highly recommended. Plus there is always the added temptation of trying to reach Colombia overland from here. Send me a postcard if you make it!
So there you go, brief, succinct, and obviously biased. Hope that gives you some insight.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
playing catch up
I know I have been a bit mia from the blog scene for most of october. I don't have so much of an excuse, unless having too much fun is acceptable. So I may stick with that. Mostly what happens is the choice comes down to tying myself to the tiny eee pc and writing about the stuff that has happened or going out and living life as it comes. But of course things have happened that are worth putting words to. So I will try and give you a quick and dirty sense of what october was all about...
place: seoul, korea
duration: 9 hours
mode of transport: airport shuttles, moving sidewalks, feet
Not being the most organized of travelers (a damning admission for a tour leader) I didn't realize that I was going to have a nine hour layover in Seoul until the last minute. Luckily the day before leaving Phnom Penh I had the chance to pick the brain of PCV whose family happens to live in Seoul. He mentioned there being a Kimchi museum in the city, so after checking out Korean culture at the Korean Culture exhibit in the airport and making a traditional paper dish, I jumped on a bus to the city. This of course was a far more complicated process which required talking to many a tourist office, bumbling my way through and atm, buying a bus ticket and finally escaping the airport. But I did make it out of the airport and all the way to some bizarre underground mall where all things Kimchi are housed.
The museum itself was kind of a let down. I mean I think I may have had unreasonable expectations including un montón de kimchi and maybe being able to try to make some myself. On the other hand you can pose yourself next to a mannequin so it looks like she is feeding you kimchi, but I didn't have anyone to take a photo of me doing it. I did learn about the health benefits of Kimchi and finished up the whole experience with a quick lunch of korean fried chicken and many a sauce at some packed mall cafe. Then it was back on the bus, and back to the terminal to smell every Hermes perfume I could find, and debate purchasing overpriced duty free goods.
place: marin county, california
duration: 6 days
mode of transport: gti, feet, mountain bike
It took me a couple of days to de-asia myself. Which meant washing out the Cambodian dust from all my clothes and eating sushi. I also did a ridiculous amount of online purchasing, and hung out with NAR NAR RAR! Oh and I voted. Just so you all know that, I did vote, Dan at the civic center hooked me up with a ballot and I got to practice my democratic right and darkened the bubble for OBAMA. And before I had the chance to unpack mary completely I was off again to...
place: Chicago, illinois
duration: 7 days
mode of transport: alex's merc, the L, feet, one van cab driven by a polish raver
Chicago was COLD. I spent most of my time fighting with Bubbe over how cold my feet must be, which resulted in the purchase of a pair of brown ballet slipper-esque shoes. Apparently you can't wear flips 12 months out of the year in Illinois. Alex showed off urban living mid-west stlyes, and I enjoyed my last tastes of life in the states. Things learned during my time in chicago: Milwaukee is banging, I hate urban driving, there is good mexican food in the middle of the eeuu, I should use "I" statements rather than forcing my political opinions on impressionable children, and one can make a delicious kuguel with rasin bran rather than corn flakes.
place: Antigua, Guatemala
duration: 2 days
mode of transport: taxi, foot
Upon arriving in Guate I found myself without Mary, which meant, no bag, no change of clothes and two days stuck walking around in my new shoes that at that point had caused my heels to bleed. The next two days I spent waiting for my bag, harassing taca, and eating Korean food. There is a korean restaurant in Antigua, run by a Korean guy. And there is KIMCHI. Holy hell.
Finally Mary showed up, flops were put on, and my smile was regained.
place: Xelaju, Guatemala
duration: 6 days
mode of transport: chicken bus, foot, taxi
Two chicken buses, a light coating of guatemalan dust, a quick taxi ride from Minerva to Las Flores and I found myself dancing in an embrace with ALAINA. Holy holy shit. Nothing like seeing a good friend in a bizarre location. The days were spent dancing to prince, madonna, and michael jackson, eating peanut butter by the forkful, telling stories in spanglish, practicing irregular verbs, cooking to motown, and laughter by the bucketful. Alaina, like me, is not so good with travel plans, we had to cut out of Xela a day early to meet her mom in...
place: Antigua, Guatemala again
duration: 4 days
mode of transport: chicken bus, microbus, foot
Back on the chicken bus to chetumal, than a chase for the bus to Antigua, a ramble to the hotel and we were back. Erica arrived late, but the next day we all reunited over a big fruit breakfast. Something that will forever have changed me is the perpetual availability of tropical fruit here. I get twitchy with out a frequent dose of pineapple, papaya, mango, and melon. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
My next trip started on Sunday so besides a jaunt to Santiago for the barilettes gigantes (which deserve their own post with photos) I was running from internet cafes to the korean restaurant to one of the hotels to queso y vino for most of my time back in antigua.
On sunday, the arrival day of my trip I came down with some g.i. bug. So the night before leaving for honduras Alaina held me as I shivered through the night. Big up to the Garries. I love you guys.
Time post Antigua has been mostly spent under the sea. Some of my friends out on Utila have convinced me that getting my dive masters may be the next step for me, I am pretty excited.
I'm in Granada, Nicaragua currently witnessing some pretty wild reactions to yesterdays Mayorial elections. Not quite the same as what just happened in the states. I was with my whole group eating red snapper and watching the states turn blue. It was a pretty amazing thing to witness. The most inspiring part was seeing the international reaction, I was with only one other American, and yet everyone in the bar was plastered to the tv. Change is coming man, change is coming.
More to come on giant kites, maybe some photos, and all the next adventures.
place: seoul, korea
duration: 9 hours
mode of transport: airport shuttles, moving sidewalks, feet
Not being the most organized of travelers (a damning admission for a tour leader) I didn't realize that I was going to have a nine hour layover in Seoul until the last minute. Luckily the day before leaving Phnom Penh I had the chance to pick the brain of PCV whose family happens to live in Seoul. He mentioned there being a Kimchi museum in the city, so after checking out Korean culture at the Korean Culture exhibit in the airport and making a traditional paper dish, I jumped on a bus to the city. This of course was a far more complicated process which required talking to many a tourist office, bumbling my way through and atm, buying a bus ticket and finally escaping the airport. But I did make it out of the airport and all the way to some bizarre underground mall where all things Kimchi are housed.
The museum itself was kind of a let down. I mean I think I may have had unreasonable expectations including un montón de kimchi and maybe being able to try to make some myself. On the other hand you can pose yourself next to a mannequin so it looks like she is feeding you kimchi, but I didn't have anyone to take a photo of me doing it. I did learn about the health benefits of Kimchi and finished up the whole experience with a quick lunch of korean fried chicken and many a sauce at some packed mall cafe. Then it was back on the bus, and back to the terminal to smell every Hermes perfume I could find, and debate purchasing overpriced duty free goods.
place: marin county, california
duration: 6 days
mode of transport: gti, feet, mountain bike
It took me a couple of days to de-asia myself. Which meant washing out the Cambodian dust from all my clothes and eating sushi. I also did a ridiculous amount of online purchasing, and hung out with NAR NAR RAR! Oh and I voted. Just so you all know that, I did vote, Dan at the civic center hooked me up with a ballot and I got to practice my democratic right and darkened the bubble for OBAMA. And before I had the chance to unpack mary completely I was off again to...
place: Chicago, illinois
duration: 7 days
mode of transport: alex's merc, the L, feet, one van cab driven by a polish raver
Chicago was COLD. I spent most of my time fighting with Bubbe over how cold my feet must be, which resulted in the purchase of a pair of brown ballet slipper-esque shoes. Apparently you can't wear flips 12 months out of the year in Illinois. Alex showed off urban living mid-west stlyes, and I enjoyed my last tastes of life in the states. Things learned during my time in chicago: Milwaukee is banging, I hate urban driving, there is good mexican food in the middle of the eeuu, I should use "I" statements rather than forcing my political opinions on impressionable children, and one can make a delicious kuguel with rasin bran rather than corn flakes.
place: Antigua, Guatemala
duration: 2 days
mode of transport: taxi, foot
Upon arriving in Guate I found myself without Mary, which meant, no bag, no change of clothes and two days stuck walking around in my new shoes that at that point had caused my heels to bleed. The next two days I spent waiting for my bag, harassing taca, and eating Korean food. There is a korean restaurant in Antigua, run by a Korean guy. And there is KIMCHI. Holy hell.
Finally Mary showed up, flops were put on, and my smile was regained.
place: Xelaju, Guatemala
duration: 6 days
mode of transport: chicken bus, foot, taxi
Two chicken buses, a light coating of guatemalan dust, a quick taxi ride from Minerva to Las Flores and I found myself dancing in an embrace with ALAINA. Holy holy shit. Nothing like seeing a good friend in a bizarre location. The days were spent dancing to prince, madonna, and michael jackson, eating peanut butter by the forkful, telling stories in spanglish, practicing irregular verbs, cooking to motown, and laughter by the bucketful. Alaina, like me, is not so good with travel plans, we had to cut out of Xela a day early to meet her mom in...
place: Antigua, Guatemala again
duration: 4 days
mode of transport: chicken bus, microbus, foot
Back on the chicken bus to chetumal, than a chase for the bus to Antigua, a ramble to the hotel and we were back. Erica arrived late, but the next day we all reunited over a big fruit breakfast. Something that will forever have changed me is the perpetual availability of tropical fruit here. I get twitchy with out a frequent dose of pineapple, papaya, mango, and melon. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
My next trip started on Sunday so besides a jaunt to Santiago for the barilettes gigantes (which deserve their own post with photos) I was running from internet cafes to the korean restaurant to one of the hotels to queso y vino for most of my time back in antigua.
On sunday, the arrival day of my trip I came down with some g.i. bug. So the night before leaving for honduras Alaina held me as I shivered through the night. Big up to the Garries. I love you guys.
Time post Antigua has been mostly spent under the sea. Some of my friends out on Utila have convinced me that getting my dive masters may be the next step for me, I am pretty excited.
I'm in Granada, Nicaragua currently witnessing some pretty wild reactions to yesterdays Mayorial elections. Not quite the same as what just happened in the states. I was with my whole group eating red snapper and watching the states turn blue. It was a pretty amazing thing to witness. The most inspiring part was seeing the international reaction, I was with only one other American, and yet everyone in the bar was plastered to the tv. Change is coming man, change is coming.
More to come on giant kites, maybe some photos, and all the next adventures.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
te extraño
Nestor next to his newly repainted van which is still missing its bumper.Isla Ompetepe, Nicaragua
Long exposure on the beach. Isla Ometepe, Nicaragua.
Summit of the "Extreme Hike." La Fortuna, Costa Rica.
Early morning on Ometepe. Isla Ometepe, Nicaragua.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
thunderous nicaragua
The rainy season is threatening me. I am into rain as long as my bag isn't strapped to the top of a chicken bus. Basically rain gives me the excuse to be a bum, take naps, listen to the thunder and not be over ambitious about things like climbing volcanoes.
Somehow the rain doesn't always bail me out of dragging my sorry ass up creatively graded Nicaraguan trails which is how I found myself on the slopes of Maderas for a third time. I mean two volcano hikes in a week is just too much. Especially when one of them is advertised as an EXTREME hike. This is where my division one college athlete brainwashing gets to work and I am convinced that there is no such thing as too much athletic activity. Oh but there is, and one's calves are always happy to remind you of it, especially while running behind Norwegian athletic goddesses up Nicaraguan hills.
The benefit to all of this, besides feeling fully justified in eating a banana split, is that you are outside for things like sunsets on Ometepe, where the sky goes a purple blue, the platano trees turn an unreal green, and all of this is contrasted by a gold brown of dry season grass. Then throw some docile looking Brahma cows in for good measure, Concepción with the faintest scarf of clouds and you get a sense of what Ometepe is like at her best. Did I mention I was on a run so I didn't have my camera? That is just how it happens sometimes. I did have to stop at one point to take it all in and yell, "Jesus this is BEAUTIFUL!" And at moments like that you realize how insufficient words like beautiful are. Because the world is more than just beautiful, it is breathtaking and sublime.
Maybe that is what this post is about is the sublimeness of Central America. I don't think I understood that word until I saw Turner's paintings. He conveys that ridiculous beauty of nature that is so humbling for humans. I had the same feeling standing at Bear Paw on the edge of the Great Western Divide, we are tiny, just a small part of this huge pulsing seething mass of energy. I think the feeling of the sublime is what we are missing when we spend all our time locked up in cement cities sterilized by regulations and laws. But in a place like Nicaragua you never have the luxury of sterility, life is always in your face. And that humbling beauty that borders on terrifying asserts itself in the ribs of half starved horses, in the chaotic jumble of Granada's market, and in sunsets on Ometepe.
Friday, May 2, 2008
the current state of things
I still have volcanic mud embedded in my pinky toes. I am recovering from a visit to the orchid gardens on a caffeine high. And I haven't posted about anything since the islas de bahia. Shit.
I'm not even sure if at this point I can catch up on all the activity. I am thinking that photos might be the solution, but of course I have my camera with me but not the cord, and I am pretty sure that the Monteverde internet might implode under the pressure of photo uploading.
What is a girl to do???
My only solution, which is my always solution is go with randomness...
From the paraiso of utila we shot down south to the stunning metropolis of Tegus. I feel bad because I have never had the time to give Tegus a chance, Kyle tells me it is a kind of cool place to hang out but I have lost my tolerance for central american cities so I think the relationship will continue to be limited to watching tv at the hotel and eating at Los Toros. Our roll on from Tegus to Granada was upgraded from the terror of four buses and a coaster to an air conditioned van including a stop at a texaco that sold reese's peanutbutter cups ( a candy which i had previously believed was endemic to the eeuu). Upon arrival to Granada the day was only improved by the news that we were staying at a nicer hotel.
This was my fifth visit to Granada. I feel like I have developed a love hate relationship with the place. I hate Granada during the day time unless the Garden Cafe is open. I love Granada as soon as the sun sets. I hate the smell of Granada, in the heat it is only worse, and I really hate hate hate that bullshit traditional dance with the giant lady and her tiny tiny pirate husband that is accompanied by the loudest drumming ever. But I can't keep that sourness in my heart for a place that has two wood fire pizza places, one of which serves pizza with potatoes and rosemary. I actually ended up eating pizza two nights in a row, the first time post-volcano/bat/porcupine, and the second time in a wind storm.
Maybe the best thing other than the pizza that happened while I was there was buying new conditioner. I ran out of conditioner in Belize and my hair had been suffering through the last three countries. I finally cracked in Granada and have been using obscene amounts since then. And I shaved my legs... it was a big day for me. Nothing like random hair care and hair removal to make you feel like a girl.
After spending most of monday in and out of the garden cafe, and eating my farewell to Granada breakfast there we headed off to Ometepe. Ooooooo weee. Nestor picked us up after a particularly rough boat ride in his ever being repaired 31 year old van. Less than a hour later we arrived at the shores of Cocibolca to our fly covered hotel.
For some reason all of southern Nicaragua is covered in swarms of the most useless flies ever. They die way too easily to be of any use, and any time I asked about them I received the same answer, "it is fly season." The good thing is the damn flies don't hang out in the cloud forest, and my full day on Ometepe was spent climbing the cloud forest covered Volcan Madera. It was pretty sweet, the center of the volcano has been filled up by water and turned into a lagoon. The cloud forest was particularly cloudy that day so we only caught sight of parts of the far shore, but the overall vibe was very LOTR, plus I saw some pink ferns (which made up for my disappointing sea horse encounter).
Post-volcano recovery included two mugs of black tea and a steamroller nap which left me feeling more tender than I had started. The next day was off to Costa Rica with a 5 am wake up. OOOOOfffftah... ferry, taxi, and then the dreaded evil penas blancas. I HATE Penas Blancas. It is hot, dusty, inconvenient, and no I will not give you a regalo so that I won't have to stand in line for an immigration form where everywhere else in the world just hands them out freely. And why does Tica bus have their own immigration forms? Yarrrgh. The only bright spot in the whole situation is the fact that the Costa Rican office is air conditioned otherwise the whole exercise is evil.
The nice thing is that 1 hour and 20 minutes from the border is Liberia. Liberia is either heaven or Babylon. I can't figure out which, but it has soft serve, mineral water, aguacate and freshly baked bread. And I always make Don Taco stop there for lunch. From there it is a crazy jaunt to the cool air of Monteverde, where I find myself now.
I'm not even sure if at this point I can catch up on all the activity. I am thinking that photos might be the solution, but of course I have my camera with me but not the cord, and I am pretty sure that the Monteverde internet might implode under the pressure of photo uploading.
What is a girl to do???
My only solution, which is my always solution is go with randomness...
From the paraiso of utila we shot down south to the stunning metropolis of Tegus. I feel bad because I have never had the time to give Tegus a chance, Kyle tells me it is a kind of cool place to hang out but I have lost my tolerance for central american cities so I think the relationship will continue to be limited to watching tv at the hotel and eating at Los Toros. Our roll on from Tegus to Granada was upgraded from the terror of four buses and a coaster to an air conditioned van including a stop at a texaco that sold reese's peanutbutter cups ( a candy which i had previously believed was endemic to the eeuu). Upon arrival to Granada the day was only improved by the news that we were staying at a nicer hotel.
This was my fifth visit to Granada. I feel like I have developed a love hate relationship with the place. I hate Granada during the day time unless the Garden Cafe is open. I love Granada as soon as the sun sets. I hate the smell of Granada, in the heat it is only worse, and I really hate hate hate that bullshit traditional dance with the giant lady and her tiny tiny pirate husband that is accompanied by the loudest drumming ever. But I can't keep that sourness in my heart for a place that has two wood fire pizza places, one of which serves pizza with potatoes and rosemary. I actually ended up eating pizza two nights in a row, the first time post-volcano/bat/porcupine, and the second time in a wind storm.
Maybe the best thing other than the pizza that happened while I was there was buying new conditioner. I ran out of conditioner in Belize and my hair had been suffering through the last three countries. I finally cracked in Granada and have been using obscene amounts since then. And I shaved my legs... it was a big day for me. Nothing like random hair care and hair removal to make you feel like a girl.
After spending most of monday in and out of the garden cafe, and eating my farewell to Granada breakfast there we headed off to Ometepe. Ooooooo weee. Nestor picked us up after a particularly rough boat ride in his ever being repaired 31 year old van. Less than a hour later we arrived at the shores of Cocibolca to our fly covered hotel.
For some reason all of southern Nicaragua is covered in swarms of the most useless flies ever. They die way too easily to be of any use, and any time I asked about them I received the same answer, "it is fly season." The good thing is the damn flies don't hang out in the cloud forest, and my full day on Ometepe was spent climbing the cloud forest covered Volcan Madera. It was pretty sweet, the center of the volcano has been filled up by water and turned into a lagoon. The cloud forest was particularly cloudy that day so we only caught sight of parts of the far shore, but the overall vibe was very LOTR, plus I saw some pink ferns (which made up for my disappointing sea horse encounter).
Post-volcano recovery included two mugs of black tea and a steamroller nap which left me feeling more tender than I had started. The next day was off to Costa Rica with a 5 am wake up. OOOOOfffftah... ferry, taxi, and then the dreaded evil penas blancas. I HATE Penas Blancas. It is hot, dusty, inconvenient, and no I will not give you a regalo so that I won't have to stand in line for an immigration form where everywhere else in the world just hands them out freely. And why does Tica bus have their own immigration forms? Yarrrgh. The only bright spot in the whole situation is the fact that the Costa Rican office is air conditioned otherwise the whole exercise is evil.
The nice thing is that 1 hour and 20 minutes from the border is Liberia. Liberia is either heaven or Babylon. I can't figure out which, but it has soft serve, mineral water, aguacate and freshly baked bread. And I always make Don Taco stop there for lunch. From there it is a crazy jaunt to the cool air of Monteverde, where I find myself now.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
es-cah-bies
So some of you have heard about my latest adventures in itchiness... but for those of you not privy to me scratching my bum in public I will diviludge the story. I am taking a card from Ari and deciding that my own embarassment shouldn't stop me from sharing a story. It all started last time I was on Utila, I ended up with a bunch of what I suspected were sand fly bites all along my bikini line. Then I woke up in Monteverde with my entire right ass cheek covered in bites. Being my own blase stubborn self I refused to see a doctor and put up with the incessent itch for two and a half weeks. I did try a number of home remedies, hydrocortosone cream, calamine, benedryl, chammomile tea, but nothing worked. I mean not at all in the least. Of course for a girl who picks her nose in public, scratching your ass is not that big of a deal.
But I finally broke down another girl, well call her Jane, woke up with similar looking bites all over her arms and forehead. She put up with them for almost a week until we got to Ometepe. By then all the bites were swollen and raised, so we enlisted the help of Donald one of my favorite Nicaraguans. Donald told us to go to the local clinic up the road. We did make a visit there, where I witnessed a Nicaraguan tooth extraction, before getting distracted by wanting to eat breakfast. Over waffles, Nestor (my nica van man) convinced us to go to the hospital when we were in Myogalpa on our island tour.
Cue Nicaraguan hospital experience! The local hospital is a low one story building, you enter into the waiting room filled with yellow metal seats that are welded together into long rows. Nestor went to inquire about an apointment and we posted up. Jane took a page from the Nica's and laid down and started taking a nap. Nestor and I shot the shit about transport prices until he flagged down a passing doctor who began to examine my sleeping friend. We ended waking her up and his prognosis was wavering until he saw one of the bites on my bum. And then the death blow was delivered, "Escahbies," he said with certainty.
"Excuse me? Scabies!" Gross. He then went on to explain about huevitos under our skin. Barf. Little eggs under my skin? By some parasitic bitcho? Yuck. Nestor and I started cracking jokes about how I have huevos, and being entirely inapropriate. Then came the prescriptions... one cream, two lotions and because Jane had had an allergic reaction to the bites he advised two cortosone shots for her, and two antihistamine shots for me.
Yes, shots in the poorest central american nation, good times! Of course we had to get the camera out and start taking pictures. The institutional green walls with the nasty overhead flourescent lighting made for fantastic photos. Here is gemma getting shot in the ass cracking up as friends take photos. My favorite part was that Jane was wearing a che cap, I got a couple good ones of here laying on the hospital bed with a huge oxygen tank in the frame.
It's the best time I've ever had at a hospital! We left and returned to the hotel where we proceeeded to boil water to wash our clothes in. That left us wearing only sarongs back to the hospital, this time accompanied by one of my coworkers. More photos, more jokes, and then a trip to Nicaraguan pharmacies.
The first pharmacy didn't have scabies cream, at the second the Pharmacist was out with his girfriend and his mother couldn't reach him, the third was a pharmacy/hardware store/funeral home. Finally we got to head back to the hotel for dinner. We called ahead and ordered it over the phone, I had a victory dinner of waffles. What a day.
My suggestion, don't get scabies they itch like hell, but they sure make a great story!
But I finally broke down another girl, well call her Jane, woke up with similar looking bites all over her arms and forehead. She put up with them for almost a week until we got to Ometepe. By then all the bites were swollen and raised, so we enlisted the help of Donald one of my favorite Nicaraguans. Donald told us to go to the local clinic up the road. We did make a visit there, where I witnessed a Nicaraguan tooth extraction, before getting distracted by wanting to eat breakfast. Over waffles, Nestor (my nica van man) convinced us to go to the hospital when we were in Myogalpa on our island tour.
Cue Nicaraguan hospital experience! The local hospital is a low one story building, you enter into the waiting room filled with yellow metal seats that are welded together into long rows. Nestor went to inquire about an apointment and we posted up. Jane took a page from the Nica's and laid down and started taking a nap. Nestor and I shot the shit about transport prices until he flagged down a passing doctor who began to examine my sleeping friend. We ended waking her up and his prognosis was wavering until he saw one of the bites on my bum. And then the death blow was delivered, "Escahbies," he said with certainty.
"Excuse me? Scabies!" Gross. He then went on to explain about huevitos under our skin. Barf. Little eggs under my skin? By some parasitic bitcho? Yuck. Nestor and I started cracking jokes about how I have huevos, and being entirely inapropriate. Then came the prescriptions... one cream, two lotions and because Jane had had an allergic reaction to the bites he advised two cortosone shots for her, and two antihistamine shots for me.
Yes, shots in the poorest central american nation, good times! Of course we had to get the camera out and start taking pictures. The institutional green walls with the nasty overhead flourescent lighting made for fantastic photos. Here is gemma getting shot in the ass cracking up as friends take photos. My favorite part was that Jane was wearing a che cap, I got a couple good ones of here laying on the hospital bed with a huge oxygen tank in the frame.
It's the best time I've ever had at a hospital! We left and returned to the hotel where we proceeeded to boil water to wash our clothes in. That left us wearing only sarongs back to the hospital, this time accompanied by one of my coworkers. More photos, more jokes, and then a trip to Nicaraguan pharmacies.
The first pharmacy didn't have scabies cream, at the second the Pharmacist was out with his girfriend and his mother couldn't reach him, the third was a pharmacy/hardware store/funeral home. Finally we got to head back to the hotel for dinner. We called ahead and ordered it over the phone, I had a victory dinner of waffles. What a day.
My suggestion, don't get scabies they itch like hell, but they sure make a great story!
Friday, February 22, 2008
throwing down in granada
Well life has been a bit of a throw back lately. Just when I thought I might have lost my ability to party like a rockstar I got my giddy up back. I think it is a result of my new group and their crazy energy and love for a good time. We´re about a week into this trip and things haven´t slowed down, I have gone to bed close to dawn more times in the last week than in the last six months.
Highlight include....
being serenaded by my guaro-drunken passengers at the local karaoke spot on Valentine´s day... I believe it was sweet caroline (which reminds me of another memorable night).
dancing salsa (some of us barefoot) at the infamous Amigos in Monteverde, then getting almost back to the hotel and deciding that we should take off in search of another party, which we started along the road side.
pissing everyone at the hotel off while we laughed and had an evening picknick at the hotel.
and finally last night happened...
Sarah who has been named of late the Disco Queen, bet me $10 to say to a booty shaking englishman, ¨You`re not a local are you? I can tell by how you dance.¨ As I was fairly far into the evening it didn´t take much for me to take her up on it. Luke, my new friend from the other side of the pond, turned out to be a friendly chap. He was passing the time in Granada with to ridiculously drunk friends, one especially so. Patrick was the lovely man`s name, he came complete with the irish flag tatooed on his arm. Patrick was game to attempt to dance to reggaeton and salsa which provided me with much entertainment. We were all getting along nicely until Patrick got into it with a nasty Norte Americano. Punches were flying, gringos and nicas running. The whole thing was broken up pretty quickly and Patrick ended up escorted outside. Patrick being a well bred Irishman was not through with the fight. I was trying him to walk home with the local watchyman, but he didn`t know his hotel name. In the time it took me to run inside and inquire about his lodging, Patrick`s nemesis emerged from the bar. The guy looked at me and said, ¨North American? Where are you from?¨
¨California.¨
¨It f`ing figures.¨
I only mention this part of the interaction because I am still not sure what he meant by that, but no matter. Then the guy set into speaking some of the most ridiculous spanglish I have heard in a while, ¨Telefono the police-o. I want this guy in jail-o.¨
The security guards only looked at him puzzled while trying to hold back an eager Patrick, whom I ended up grabbing and throwing up against a wall while telling him that he did not want a trip to a Nicaraguan jail. The security got the Norte Americano to retreat to the bar, and I finally got Patrick to walk back to his hotel with the watchyman but only after buying a single cigarette and a pack of gum.
The whole thing was a fascinating experience, mostly because I kept thinking that had that been me fighting and any of the Nelly ladies had been around the whole thing would have turned into a brawl.
Any how thought I would share a little bit of the madness...
besos.
Highlight include....
being serenaded by my guaro-drunken passengers at the local karaoke spot on Valentine´s day... I believe it was sweet caroline (which reminds me of another memorable night).
dancing salsa (some of us barefoot) at the infamous Amigos in Monteverde, then getting almost back to the hotel and deciding that we should take off in search of another party, which we started along the road side.
pissing everyone at the hotel off while we laughed and had an evening picknick at the hotel.
and finally last night happened...
Sarah who has been named of late the Disco Queen, bet me $10 to say to a booty shaking englishman, ¨You`re not a local are you? I can tell by how you dance.¨ As I was fairly far into the evening it didn´t take much for me to take her up on it. Luke, my new friend from the other side of the pond, turned out to be a friendly chap. He was passing the time in Granada with to ridiculously drunk friends, one especially so. Patrick was the lovely man`s name, he came complete with the irish flag tatooed on his arm. Patrick was game to attempt to dance to reggaeton and salsa which provided me with much entertainment. We were all getting along nicely until Patrick got into it with a nasty Norte Americano. Punches were flying, gringos and nicas running. The whole thing was broken up pretty quickly and Patrick ended up escorted outside. Patrick being a well bred Irishman was not through with the fight. I was trying him to walk home with the local watchyman, but he didn`t know his hotel name. In the time it took me to run inside and inquire about his lodging, Patrick`s nemesis emerged from the bar. The guy looked at me and said, ¨North American? Where are you from?¨
¨California.¨
¨It f`ing figures.¨
I only mention this part of the interaction because I am still not sure what he meant by that, but no matter. Then the guy set into speaking some of the most ridiculous spanglish I have heard in a while, ¨Telefono the police-o. I want this guy in jail-o.¨
The security guards only looked at him puzzled while trying to hold back an eager Patrick, whom I ended up grabbing and throwing up against a wall while telling him that he did not want a trip to a Nicaraguan jail. The security got the Norte Americano to retreat to the bar, and I finally got Patrick to walk back to his hotel with the watchyman but only after buying a single cigarette and a pack of gum.
The whole thing was a fascinating experience, mostly because I kept thinking that had that been me fighting and any of the Nelly ladies had been around the whole thing would have turned into a brawl.
Any how thought I would share a little bit of the madness...
besos.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
las isletas
view from Isla San Pablo, Isleta chickens, lunch
Las Isletas, Nicaragua
What a day friends, what a day. Granada has been a fun place to start off my travels alone. Every single Nica man wants to know if I am traveling alone, to which I tell them,¨sí.¨ Being alone has the advantage that people seem more comfortable talking to you, which has lead to some funny interactions including having a texan call me,¨babe.¨
Last night I went to dinner with a pack of gringas who teach english in Heredia, CR. A local tour guide told us about a concert going on down the road at Café Nuit. The band was a Nica group called Sacasa that plays an infectious combination of salsa, rock, and blues. They were playing at a beautiful little bar all lit up by candles, heaving with locals and travelers.
Today has been taken up by a tour of the locals isletas down on Lake Nicaragua. It was an adventure full of rainy bike rides, caca on the stairs, monkeys, turkeys, and ducks. Check out the photos.
Chao!
Last night I went to dinner with a pack of gringas who teach english in Heredia, CR. A local tour guide told us about a concert going on down the road at Café Nuit. The band was a Nica group called Sacasa that plays an infectious combination of salsa, rock, and blues. They were playing at a beautiful little bar all lit up by candles, heaving with locals and travelers.
Today has been taken up by a tour of the locals isletas down on Lake Nicaragua. It was an adventure full of rainy bike rides, caca on the stairs, monkeys, turkeys, and ducks. Check out the photos.
Chao!
Friday, October 19, 2007
the solo roll
What? Have I turned into a new kind of norimake? No no, I am just off on new adventures, which means traveling alone. The good thing about this is that now I can talk to strangers in two languages and no one is around to give me funny looks about being overly friendly. Not to worry I am sticking with Uncle John´s rule of travel:
If you find yourself in a place where there are no women or children around you should get out of there.
That being said I have heard that some of the most skilled pickpockets down here are women.
I started friday with some epic emailing and skyping, working on big plans. When I finally emerged from the hostel it was already the afternoon. The day was bustling in full force out on the streets, pop music playing, street dogs sniffing, people selling drinks in bags, all that gritty stuff that is hard to find in the states. Granada is gorgeous. Lots of pastels, with white accents, little tile faceplates with building names and history written on them. Some man made fun of me today for taking this picture of the ¨Casa Marin¨sign, but I just couldn´t help myself.
If you find yourself in a place where there are no women or children around you should get out of there.
That being said I have heard that some of the most skilled pickpockets down here are women.
I started friday with some epic emailing and skyping, working on big plans. When I finally emerged from the hostel it was already the afternoon. The day was bustling in full force out on the streets, pop music playing, street dogs sniffing, people selling drinks in bags, all that gritty stuff that is hard to find in the states. Granada is gorgeous. Lots of pastels, with white accents, little tile faceplates with building names and history written on them. Some man made fun of me today for taking this picture of the ¨Casa Marin¨sign, but I just couldn´t help myself.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
That´s a beautiful state!
Just got back from my first meal in Nicaragua which was appropriately Mexican food. I took the bus from San Jose this morning to Granada which was eight hours of watching the dubbed version of ´look whose talking´and acting like a narcoleptic passing out. I met two gringas on the bus headed to the same hostel so we walked into town together. I´m staying at a nice hostel with of all fabulous things, a pool.
The big road block in today has been discovering that it may not work out for me to volunteer in Xela, so I am back at the drawing board trying to figure out what to do with myself. Many plans are in the works, and you will be updated just as soon as I know where the winds will take me.
After scheming on the internet for an hour or so I headed out to dinner with the gringas. Granada´s architecture maybe one of the few reasons to feel okay about colonialism, that and the baguettes in Vietnam . The city is centered on a square that is all domes and façades. Quite lovely in the evening, and a huge step up from San Jose´s cement boxes. We ate dinner at Puerto Tequila, a gringofied establishment that serves mean margaritas. During dinner drummers and two dancers, one dressed up not unlike a bobble head and the other like a twelve foot tall drag queen harassed us for money. When I say harassed I mean that they performed three times right in front of us at volume levels that would have made Mandy´s ears bleed and then asked us for a donation for their performance. I know that right now that this story a. needs a picture to accompany it, and b. makes me sound like a mean person. But drumming loudly and tired gringa just don´t mix well. Then a local Nica man appeared at our table who wanted to talk to us about the United States and quiz us on every state. It was a rough evening for my brain. He would say things like, ¨new hersey, that place is full of crazy son of bitches.¨ It was the kind of interaction you can only have in Nicaragua while eating mexican food on the street.
The big road block in today has been discovering that it may not work out for me to volunteer in Xela, so I am back at the drawing board trying to figure out what to do with myself. Many plans are in the works, and you will be updated just as soon as I know where the winds will take me.
After scheming on the internet for an hour or so I headed out to dinner with the gringas. Granada´s architecture maybe one of the few reasons to feel okay about colonialism, that and the baguettes in Vietnam . The city is centered on a square that is all domes and façades. Quite lovely in the evening, and a huge step up from San Jose´s cement boxes. We ate dinner at Puerto Tequila, a gringofied establishment that serves mean margaritas. During dinner drummers and two dancers, one dressed up not unlike a bobble head and the other like a twelve foot tall drag queen harassed us for money. When I say harassed I mean that they performed three times right in front of us at volume levels that would have made Mandy´s ears bleed and then asked us for a donation for their performance. I know that right now that this story a. needs a picture to accompany it, and b. makes me sound like a mean person. But drumming loudly and tired gringa just don´t mix well. Then a local Nica man appeared at our table who wanted to talk to us about the United States and quiz us on every state. It was a rough evening for my brain. He would say things like, ¨new hersey, that place is full of crazy son of bitches.¨ It was the kind of interaction you can only have in Nicaragua while eating mexican food on the street.
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