Michael Jackson is Dead! and other stories from Nica...

It's 11:37am and I am sitting in my favorite A/C internet cafe in SJDS. :) About to catch a bus from an awesome hostel to Playa Maderas - the surfing beach. A few days ago I met some Australianos on a surfing expedition for a month here in Nica. They offered to give me some surfing lessons so we'll see if Erin (my Texan friend) and I can find them at the beach. If not, we'll rent a board from the man down there and find some other people to con - I mean, ask - into giving us some lessons and tips.

I'm a little nervous about returning to Playa Maderas without having had some practice in between (Playa Maderas was the first, and only, time I have surfed, back in March). But, practice is the only way to learn so away I go!

Yesterday was a busy day. Woke up early (and a bit hungover from the previous night's festivities, at the Festival de San Juan and because of the Australians! lol) and ran down to the school where we were to catch the bus. Really need to get a phone now that one of the Texans has one ... will make things much easier and more dignified! hahaha. Skipped breakfast in my haste, only to wait for one hour at the restaurant for the rest of the bus group (others not in our group went) to arrive and for us to depart. We weren't sure when the whole group would arrive so I was sort of stuck there with no food options. Yes, we were at a restaurant but wasn't sure if I had time to order food to go. Was going to order fruit, but the "fruit was not there yet." Not sure where the hell the restaurant buys its fruit, but apparently it was not there at the time! Flagged down an ice cream cart and enjoyed a delicious pseudo-Drumstick. Two Americans joining us on the bus - Eric from Seal Beach, CA and Mike from Hawaii - had some bananas and kindly gave me one.

The drive to Masaya was long and hot! There were approx. 15 of shoved into a van, going as fast as it could, which amounted to about only 45 mph! No A/C and sticky people made for an interesting trip. But, here in Nica, we are all getting used to being sticky, sweaty, and hot.

Once in Masaya we stopped at the Visitors' Center and viewed some exhibits to learn about the history of the area. The volcano is still active and has been since at least the 500s. The indigenous people believed a "Mother Hag" governed the volcano and would come down to dispense advise. They sacrificed females and young female children to appease her.

As for Volcano Masaya itself, there is a huge crater near the top of the volcano. The volcano does not look like the volcanos we are used to seeing in images. Instead, it is more inverted, with the looking points at the top of the crater/valley, and the active volcano below on the floor. I took some pics, but you cannot see much as the smoke and sulfur cloulds the air (and singes the nostrils! ahahaha). Near the top of a hill overlooking the crater and volcano is a large metal cross. It was erected in the 1100s (or so) by a priest, as he believed the crater/volcano to be the "mouth of Hell." Mom - make sure to tell Nick about that one, as he should get a kick out of me standing at "the Hellmouth."

Volcano Masaya

Next we hopped back into the van, desperately needing to stop for lunch before heading to the Masaya Market.

more to come .... need to publish and save in case of internet failure.

Ok, back now on Saturday. Where did I leave off ...

Oh, yes. Lunch .... starving, hot passengers in a crowded van make for a grumpy group. Imagine our delight as we pull into a parking lot with two dining options: Crazy Pollo and Papa John's Pizza! I don't think I, or a group of people, have ever been so excited to see a Papa John's! And ... it had air conditioning!! We all happily ambled up the steps to the air conditioned dining area of Papa John's. Although both places were fast food-ish, there were waiters, a hostess, and the general set-up was that of a sit-down restaurant. Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs, and we ordered lots and lots of cheesy goodness. Turns out, before departing, the school we were travelling with rhapsodized about the "authentic Nican lunch" we would be having, including the Nican rice and beans dish. Truth: we are all pretty much sick of the rice and beans entree - it's been on our plates for almost every single meal. Luckily, Scarlett, one of the Texans, is pretty fluent in Spanish and was able to politely communicate our dismay in that sort of lunching option. So there we were in old Masaya, on our way to the old flea market, sitting in a franchised pizza place and so much happy for it!

Our Papa John's Feast

Next, we stopped at Masaya. This place is a maze of a flea market, with so many knick knacks and chakskis. Thing is, the same chakskis are sold at each stand. They look hand-crafted, and perhaps they were in some part of the world, but definitely not by the Nicans selling them. Turns out Nicans don't really have an indigenous product/craft to capitalize on, save for their coffee. (More on the amazing coffee at some point). I had run out of money at this point, not having budgeted enough for the bus ride and meal and shopping. Probably a good thing, seems how I would have left with a lot of needless junk, and I purchased souveneirs during my March trip.

I despised the hungry look in the merchant's eyes as entered the market. I like to browse in peace, and here they ascend on you non-stop. You pick up one item and three vendors will come up to you with a barrage of similar items, all trying to yell prices at you in Spanglish. A "guide" approached us as we wandered off into shopping groups of three. They had an "official" badge, and helped barter down prices and led us through the maze of shops. We figured they would each want a tip at the end for their services, but were shocked when our guide tried to tell Gill, Erin and I that his services cost $10. Yes, ten US Dollars. We told him we'd tip him but nothing said he cost that much. Of course he didn't, but they all try at times here to play us tourists for a mark.

We then left for a trip to a nearby lagoon, where our driver and two other passengers left us so they could go to Managua and catch a plane. We ordered drinks and conversed on a patio restaurant while the rain thundered down around us. After 1.5 hours, we were a pretty anxious and irritated group. And, for once - a COLD group! Yes, we were actually cold and not sweating buckets. Long story a little more short - the bus came back and we all made it home, sleepy and ready for bed.

I laid in bed that night, under the breeze of my fan and in the clutches of my pretty mosquito net/tent. For a bit, I forgot that I was in a bed in Nica, far from home and the usual. It was a nice little jaunt into comfort. :)