3/8/2013
Hola from Managua:
Assuming David and I survive the flight tomorrow on COPA Airlines,
I'll have many positive things to say about Nicaragua, little of which
is reflected in this email. Of course, if you've no interest in our
adventures, feel free to discard this thrilling travelogue post haste.
So, David and I first arrived into the main city, Managua, late last
week, which, while an aesthetic shithole, has some excellent cuisine.
Especially good was El Segundo, a Nica-American hybrid run by a lovely
American expat, and La Cocina de Dona Haydee, which serves the best
Chicha ( this side of Amazonia.
The typical Nicaraguan breakfast is also delightful, consisting of
rice and beans, fried cheese, plantain chips, a salad, scrambled eggs,
and some sort of weird (but delicious) creamy substance. On the minus
side, Managua's must-see, ParqueTiscapa, pretty much consists of a
dumpy-looking hill, a headless statute of Lady Justice (ha ha!), and a
bizarre, huge silhouette of the first Sandinista (this guy:
with a rundown
museum dedicated to said Sandinista's every action. More interesting
was a nearby mall, where David and I played skee ball. The skee ball
was fun, although, after realizing the only people present were us and
many gleeful Nicaraguan children, I felt it time to depart. Our final
Managuan attraction was Plaza de Revolucion, which has some beautiful
buildings/churches and a giant square that hosts Socialist rallies.
While no vocal Socialists were (unfortunately) around on our watch,
they apparently came out in droves following the death of Commandante
Hugo Chavez. Chavez was apparently good compadres with Daniel Ortega,
whose mustachioed visage is plastered on nearly every lamppost in
town.
We departed Managua for Grenada, which was apparently the conservative
hub during Nicaragua's civil war. Overall, the city is beautiful, full
of old colonial architecture and a bustling central square. The people
were also quite friendly, and unlike in Managua, we felt no fear for
our wallets at every waking hour. Besides some excellent (nearly
Argentina-level) steak, the best part of Grenada was Volcano Masaya.
Masaya is awesome for two reasons: one, it has some truly creepy bat
caves (which David did not dig, especially when the bats swarmed
around us), and two, you can actually drive up to the volcano peak,
which is active, and look inside the crater. (Somehow that last part
reads really dirty.) Before learning that the gas was poisonous, we
spent a good half an hour engulfed in volcanic ash while attempting to
see the lava below (ultimately, all we saw was a burning red light).
Making Masaya even cooler (than the bats and poisonous gas) is that
children and female virgins were once thrown into the volcano as
sacrificial offerings to the dark gods above. While this practice
seems simple, I'd imagine throwing someone into a volcano could
actually be quite difficult. (Does the sacrifice count if the person
gets stuck in rocks and therefore doesn't hit lava? If not, surely
having an adolescent or fully grown female clear the rocks must take
some real strength.) The biggest minus regarding Grenada was its gym,
which (1) was outside and therefore blisteringly warm, (2) consisted
of a weird Virginian who kept telling me he was on a "secret mission"
in Nicaragua, (3) had only one working exercise machine, which sparked
and turned off at annoyingly inconsistent intervals, and (4) contained
a giant snapping turtle that kept waddling near me. Incredibly, this
gym was superior to the one in San Juan del Sur (see below), where a
rusty screw may have given me tetanus. Oh, David and I were also
accosted by a fellow with one working eye and playing with a power
cord, but managed to escape unscathed.
After wishing Grenada a warm goodbye, David and I departed for the
island of Ometepe, situated in the humongous Lake Nicaragua. (Yes, I
know, they're quite creative with their names here.) Ometepe has two
volcanoes, one of which is beautifully shaped and still active (and,
in fact, gave its last sputter around three years ago), and another
that is rather shittily shaped and entirely inactive. The island also
has a gorgeous waterfall, which is worth weathering the island's
TERRIBLE roads to visit. David and I stayed in an eco-lodge built on
the side of the shitty volcano and overlooking the beautiful one.
While the view was amazing, David's experience was less so. His first
issue was the compost toilet, which had a peculiar odor (of well,
compost), and was too tall to facilitate any sort of comfortable
sitting experience. The second issue, which I shared with him, was an
ant invasion. Ant-invasion Day started out pleasant enough: David and
I had a lovely hike up part of the volcano, where we viewed some
ancient (and astonishingly detailed) petroglyphs; encountered various
families of aggressively vocal howler monkeys (although we failed to
see any anteaters, which are, unfortunately, nocturnal); and visited
one of Nicaragua's premiere coffee plantations. Arriving back at our
quarters, however, we soon discovered our room invaded by streams of
giant black ants, which had broken into two or three thick trails. To
top things off, the eco-staff was rather unsympathetic to our plight,
telling us that the ants (1) didn't bite and (2) were probably just
seeking out a dead rat on the roof. Nonetheless, David and I worked
ourselves into a frenzy: We grabbed a pair of broomsticks, a plate of
lemons (which are apparently ants' kryptonite), and headed valiantly
into battle. (Un)fortunately our heroism was in vain. The ants had
departed quickly as they arrived, and we were left holding our weapons
and looking like the pathetic, cowardly city boys we are. The lodge's
tap water, which comes straight from the volcano, is really good
though.
With ants (or Volcano water) no longer on our minds, David and I
prepared to depart for the beach town of San Juan del Sur (in
Nicaragua proper) the next morning. When we arrived for the 9 AM
ferry, however, we were told that wind conditions were atrocious, and
as a result, no ferries would be departing that day. Furthermore, the
ferry was the sole means off the island (believe me, we asked). After
commiserating with a potpourri of similarly stranded Gringos (but no
other Chinos), we began preparing to spend yet another night in
compost-toilet land. Nevertheless, at our weakest hour the sun shone
through: the winds dramatically died down, and a small vessel shortly
arrived thereafter, ready to ferry any foreigner with a pulse and two
dollars. While the resulting journey wasn't particularly pleasant, it
got the job done, and David and I arrived in San Juan del Sur early
that afternoon. The beauty of San Juan del Sur (besides, of course,
its natural beauty) is how little there is to do. Thus, we spent our
time lounging around, consuming many more calories (and, on my end,
drinking much more rum), and enjoying our resort's three beautiful
pools. Some adventure occurred when a small scorpion sought to enter
our premises, but he was little match for our finely attuned shooing
skills. We departed the following day badly sun-burnt, and are now
stationed back in Managua awaiting tomorrow's flight.
Seriously, though, David and I had a wonderful trip. The weather was
splendid, the people are lovely, and the volcanoes are plentiful.
Hopefully everything is going well on your end.
Hasta La Mañana,
Shemtob