Through Managua to El Salvador

We started our trip to El Salvador by dragging our backpacks across the median on the Pan American Highway to catch a chicken bus to Managua.  Our hostel in Laguna de Apoyo, Crater's Edge, drives a group of people to Granada each day.  From the laguna, Granada is in the opposite direction of Managua, where we needed to go.  We took the transportation to Granada and upon seeing the bus to Managua our driver furiously flashed his lights and honked his horn, which, surprisingly, was understood to mean that the bus driver on the opposite side of the highway should pull over and pick us up. We grabbed out luggage and made our way, frogger-style, across the Pan American Highway.  Did I mention we were with a blind masseuse who was making his way home from a typical workday? 

Managua is the capital of Nicaragua and not a place I was overly excited to see.  We arrived late in the evening and had just enough time to eat some chicken and fried cheese from a street vendor (I love fried cheese) and settle into our hostel, which was secured by bars on the windows and prison style locked down gates on all sides.  I was thankful for these features when I heard the Nicaraguan gangbangers hanging out on the street later that night.  I can't say for sure what happened but at one point, I heard a small child screaming.  When I snuck my head out the window, a gangbanger was picking up the child and the group was quickly walking down the street, on a mission.

We got up at 3:45 am to catch the Tica Bus from Managua to San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador.  It took us 11 hours to go 300 miles on the Pan American Highway.  The Pan Am is a well-paved road, but the cars here go so slow our trip averaged less than 30 miles per hour.  We stopped at the Honduras border and had fried chicken for breakfast and again in El Salvador to enjoy chicken fajitas courtesy of a gas station buffet.  The fajitas were pretty good and the gas station buffet was packed, quite a hit in El Salvador.

We ended up in Playa de Tunco, a beach on the Pacific Coast of El Salvador.  It is amazing here! The town is small, the beach is beautiful, the surf is great (the waves break in a picture perfect right-hand point break) and the locals are very nice.  There are a few tourists, but not enough to inhibit our desire to speak as much Spanish as possible.  I am traveling with a friend from Quebec.  With French as a first language, Spanish comes much easier to Veronica.  At least that is what I tell myself when I can't keep up.

Ometepe and Laguna de Apoyo

After a few days of partaking in the local festivities in San Juan Del Sur, it was a welcome relief to get to Ometepe.  Ometepe is a volcanic island located in Lake Nicaragua.  There are two volcanoes, Maderas (not active and about 1,300+ meters high) and Concepcion (active and about 1,600+ meters high).  Both are available for climbing, but we chose R&R instead.  We went to Playa Santo Domingo, a small black-sand beach located between the two volcanoes.   Day one included a trip to Ojo de Agua, a small mineral pool said to either reduce your age by ten years or keep you the same age for the next fifteen.  Not sure how long one needs to spend in the water to achieve either of these, but I am hoping for the later.  Day two included beach time on the shallow beach of Playa Santo Domingo.  The water was warm and a welcome change from the salt water from the Pacific Ocean. 

 

After Ometepe, we headed to Laguna de Apoyo, a crater lake located outside of Granada.  It is amazing!  Very tranquilo and beautiful.  The lake water is even warmer than Ometepe, there are tons of hammocks, kayaks and only a few people.  The sounds of nature are amazing, the birds sound like musical instruments and it's a much better wake up call then the roosters.  This is quite possible my favorite place in Nicaragua so far.  There are only two hostel options here, one is bring your own food, and the second is Crater's edge.  The food is amazing and the atmosphere breeds relaxation along the waterfront.

Tomorrow, we head to Managua for then night in order to catch a 5am bus to El Salvador to surf along the Pacific Coast.  Somehow my 'trip to Costa Rica' has taken on a life of its own in countries north of Costa Rica.  

I added a link to more photos on the right.

I got stuck....

I was planning on leaving Friday to go to Isleta de Ometepe, an island in Lake Nicaragua, but I got stuck.  By stuck I mean sucked into the ever-interesting vortex of nightlife in San Juan Del Sur.  San Juan Del Sur is a quaint local town with a few tourists and has quite a late night party scene.   Around 10pm you can start getting a flavor for where the evening may go.  It's exactly like college spring break: Drunk girls dirty dancing to DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince and Milli Vanilli (actual Milli Vanilli, not Queen. I have heard almost as much MV here in the past 3 weeks as I did back in the day).  Guys hovering in the corners waiting for the proper time to pounce on their prey. Shots. Short skirts. More shots.  People teetering on the edge of falling off a barstool.  And lots of making out on the dance floor.  It's quite possibly the best people watching ever.  Every evening is the same.  The night starts at The Iguana or Coquito bar, then moves to the Crazy Crab (the discotheque of San Juan), which is open until 5 or 6 or 7am, not sure.

 

I only recently discovered this part of San Juan and the town is not all Flor de Cana and Tona (the local rum and beer).  Other compelling factors influencing my decision to stay in San Juan Del Sur a little longer include:

 - The seafood.  $10 for 3 fantastic lobster tails

 - Chicken Gordon Blue (not sure who Gordon is, but he's on every menu here)

 - Vanilla Latte.  There is one gringo coffee shop with vanilla lattes and wi-fi.  I am hooked again.

 - Death announcements are made from a truck, on a bullhorn.  The truck drives around town for hours notifying every one of the details.  This is kind of morbid, but the randomness makes it note-worthy.

 - I met some really great people in my final week of Spanish School, so I wanted to stick around for a bit longer.

 - Fantastic sunsets on the Pacific, my favorite.

I am planning to leave on Monday.

Granada

This past weekend I went to Granada, a 400-year old city and the oldest in Nicaragua and Central America.   The city is beautiful and full of old cathedrals and colonial buildings.  Horse drawn carriages transport tourists around the city and the streets are full of music.  There are two main kinds of music in Granada: Cuban-carribean music (expected) and reggae-ton (this is a type of music where each reggae song it put to the same underlying techno beat.  With the base turned up, each song sounds exactly the same from afar).   Young street performers who entertaining the crown with a mix of cir-de-soleil routines, double jointed magic and break dancing complement the music.  It's awesome and scary to watch all at the same time.I went on a few excursions while in Granada, none of them bad, yet none of them fantastic.  

Vulcan Mombacho: While driving up Mombacho Volcano (an inactive volcano with a great view and lots of plants growing out of the inactive crater), my cab driver ran over a chicken.  I was totally grossed out.  He was thinking about stopping by on the way back for chicken soup dinner.  Another down side to this excursion was when, half way up the volcano, I found myself in a 'disagreement' with my driver over the fact that his car could not actually drive up the volcano (what I had paid him to do) and he wanted me to pay someone else to do it, in addition to what I was paying him.  Since he spoke no English and I understand no Spanish the fight went something like this; I would state my position in bad spanish and when he tried to respond, I would ignore it because he was wrong and I could not understand anyway.   It worked out in the end and we continued our friendship.  On the up side, the view of Granada and the lake was great.

Massaya: Reputed to have one of the biggest and best markets in Central America (I think this is a typical statement in each country), I took a chicken bus to Massaya for the afternoon.  By chicken bus, I mean old American school bus complete with vinyl seats crammed together and retrofitted with only a 'hold on for your life bar' in the center (for those who have to stand) and a stereo to pump out the aforementioned music.  My biggest problem with Massaya was the stench engulfing the street.  It was a combination of sewer and rotting carcasses, quite possibly the worst smell I have ever encountered.  The market was fine.  It was blocks and blocks of produce, meat, fish, clothes, shoes, hammocks, and tires.  And, every once in a while, there would be a small slot machine only casino mixed in.  Each tiny casino was busy with Nicaraguans shoving their Cordobas into the machines with the same excitement seen in Vegas.  This was the busiest part of the market.

Islets:  Granada is surrounded by a series of 375 small islands located in Lake Nicaragua.  The islands are purchased by private individuals.  Some are left empty; others have homes of varying degrees of beauty.   It was Sunday when I walked to the lake and the lakefront was filled with Nicaraguans enjoying the final day of their weekend by barbequing and swimming in their clothes. The walk back from the boat was like a gauntlet of sexual harassment by the young men.  It got to a point where I walked in the middle of the street in an attempt to avoid starting my second Spanish confrontation.

Learning Spanish

I've had about 30 hours of Spanish instruction and am certain I should know a lot more than I do.  For example, when I talk to locals on the street I can get my point across to them, but when they start talking it's like I am back in Asia.  I completely glaze over because I have no idea what they are saying.  I'd even go so far as to say the language I have spent hours studying is barely recognizable when spoken to me on the street.  I can understand my teacher, but she's the only one.  She speaks slow and with intention.  I don't understand the TV, can't read the papers, and can't understand a word unless it's America, Nicaragua or barato (which means cheap).  Last night I was part of a debate over whether there are 6 or 7 continents (I know this because an English speaking friend told me).   My only contribution to this debate was to shake my head and say siete whenever I heard seis, and I was passionate about my position.  Come to find out, we were both right. Nicaraguans, as well as many Europeans, are taught that the Americas are one continent and therefore a total of 6. 

I am waiting for my Spanish breakthrough.  It's possible I am going to scrap Spanish school and start spending time in the bars.  There are two reasons this approach may offer more success: (a) the bartenders and waiters speak mostly Spanish and (b) I can say, with confidence, I am better after a few drinks.  I considered finding a Nicaraguan chico to help me, and then I learned that many of the local men think that western women should PAY for their company.  Honestly, what is that all about?

Nicaragua: The 'ladies', the wind and the surf

I am pretty oblivious to sex for hire.  I do not believe I have ever looked at a situation and, on my own, concluded the relationship was for hire.  Not in Asia, not in Vegas, not in the most obvious places.   What threw me off last night was that the two local 'working ladies' were with my Spanish School teacher.  At first, it seemed like a normal group of young Nicaraguan women having a few beers and enjoying a Friday night.  After a bottle of the local favorite, rum, and the departure of the teacher, the night turned.  Even after two guidos joined them with undeserved confidence and the girls took turns testing out each of them, I merely thought the girls were drunk and 'open'.  It wasn't until a fellow Michigander pointed out they were 'working' that it all came together.  At that point, guido number two disappeared and the ladies fought over guido number one (the guido with his shirt open to mid-stomach, not because the buttons were undone, but because they didn't exist).   It was great people watching.

There are many small, secluded beaches in San Juan Del Sur.  Today, we went to Madera, the local surf beach.  Despite the surprisingly frigid water temperature, I rode a few waves and was pleased with my performance.  Playa Maderas is beautiful.  From San Juan Del Sur, it's a 5-mile, 30-minute rollercoaster-esque ride certain to induce fears of death-by-pothole for even the most seasoned traveler.  The wind at the beach was insanely strong, confirmed gale force.  It constantly feels like mother nature is misting you with sand and, every once in a while, reaches out an arm of sand and smacks you in the face.  It is unlikely that I will ever remove all the sand from my ears.

La Escuela de Espanol

I love Spanish school, however, 4 hours a day of thinking is not something I was prepared for.  Next week, I am cutting back to 2 hours a day.  No need to exercise the brain that much, right?  After 8 hours of classes, I still contend that if you slightly change your pronunciation, roll your r's and/or add o or an a to the end of most words, you will be understood more than fifty percent of the time.  Mi escuela is on the beach and has daily activities outside the classroom.  I originally chose not to participate in the activities, as extracurricular events have never been my thing. But today, when they loaded my fellow gringos onto benches in the back of a pick up truck and headed to a neighboring beach for a beer, I figured I'd tag along.  It took about 45 minutes to travel about 5 miles on the pothole filled dirt roads and despite the near gale force winds turning the seemingly soft sand into what felt like a continuous mini-paintball attack, it was well worth the trip.

Each day, we go on a field trip.  Yesterday we went to visit some local monkeys, one of which loves men but aggressively attacks women and children.  The teachers called him gay and laughed.  I think it's rather sick and twisted that this monkey is on display at one of the nicer hotels in San Juan Del Sur.  After hearing from my teacher that women don't surf or participate in activities outside of working and caring for their home and children, it made a little more sense that this monkey would be somewhat of a local icon.  Today we went to a local market set up for the cruise ship anchored in the bay.  When the cruise ships stop here, Nicaraguans come from hours away to set up shop and get a piece of the pie.  So far, it is the only place in San Juan Del Sur where items trade on the US dollar and everyone speaks English. 

I have managed to watch the sunset each night.  It is beautiful.  How can one not love a place where time doesn't matter, bananas are five cents, a beer is a dollar, every restaurant serves chicken 'gordon' blue, and the sunsets are this amazing?  Did I mention you can buy Cuban cigars?