I keep putting off emails to friends and family about my travels because it involves so much retelling of the same stories...and sitting in an internet cafe isn´t like sharing a beer. So, despite the horror it gives me to tell you this, I´ve decided to write a blog. I expect it to be less personal than my emails, but maybe also less rushed and laden with links to excellent Bee Gees videos. But that would be a crime, wouldn´t it?
This weekend I decided to get out of Granada. I had been intending to travel to the volcanic island of Ometepe but didn´t have the four days that the trip requires. Friday morning, exhausted, I forced myself to get out of bed and take the bus to Masaya, to the bus to Tipitapa, to the bus to Matagalpa. Gorgeous ride - you leave the hot lowlands of lakeside Nicaragua and climb up into the green hills, which then become mountains. The trip only took a total of four hours - I would ask people how far each stage was, and they´d always say "far," and then maybe give me a number that seemed like no time at all. I sat next to a soft-spoken fellow who I could not understand, except for when he named a town. We pulled off the highway at one point and I had to rephrase the question three times until I knew if we were in Matagalpa.
I´ve been bored in Granada lately, or rather just not very excited about the city when I finish my workday of volunteering. It´s small, you can get to know people everywhere you go in very little time, but there is also a strange rapport between the moneyed gringos and the Nicaraguans. We foreigners infuse the city with money, and many of the best restaurants, bars, and hotels are owned by and geared toward us. As I walk around day-to-day there is an inescapable association by skin color between me and the rich lazy bastards who move there in their fifties and talk about properties or prostitutes. I generally talk about neither, but always feel a little embarrassed about the wealth I´m presumably spending on both.
Granada is, on the other hand, a safe place and an easy one to get to know. I get very bored talking about the positive points, so I don´t much...but it is a comfortable town and has been a good first step into Latin America. I spend too much time with other volunteers, sweet as they are, reflecting on the 50 cent mojitos and the dollar ice cream cones, and I think to myself - in English - that I oughta never let anyone know about the crass luxuries of my vida diaria ("life of diarrhea").
I have been on the computer too long and haven´t even told you about the part I was excited about...so I´ll make it a highlight reel. Matagalpa - city in the mountains, cloudy and cool, oh and when I say mountains I mean rolling green hills that spill all over each other like a pack of tired dogs on a slippery floor.
I walked around most of the town at least twice last night and caught an astonishing rainbow after walking past the lovely church and buying 2 cordoba bags of grape juice at the grocery store. Great flavor, comes out to about 10 cents each. And the cathedral looks like this.
THEN, today, I got the bus to Selva Negra, a coffee plantation with miles of muddy trails through the woods, way up in the hills. It was absolutely gorgeous and there are several photos of that on the way. Tired of writing, gonna log off and tell you more soon.
Ten days until the election!
