After a long hiatus, during which I have crossed Costa Rica and Panama, I am now sitting in an internet cafe in Cartagena, Colombia facing the task of trying to get this neglected blog up to date. I arrived in San Juan del Sur on the day after my birthday and the next few days were spent subsisting then retiring to my room or a hammock where I would doze and be bitten by the hordes of mosquitoes that infested our little hotel. Even smothering myself with 50% DEET repellant didn't stop it amd I resorted to burning repellant coils almost continuosly in the room. The mosquito net I had bought in Mexico City was ineffective as it was for a single bed, so all in all it was pretty miserable. An Argentinian woman next door to me had just spent the last 10 days recovering from dengue fever ( a mosquito borne virus), so the situation was far from encouraging.
However it was a good opportunity to make a start with Charles Darwin's Journal of the Voyage on the Beagle. The only reason I allowed myself to read it was because it's good preparation should I get to visit the Galapagos Islands in Ecuador. Otherwise, I have a personal ban on reading books in English as it doesn't help my Spanish. It was awe inspiring to read his rigorous descriptions of flora and fauna as well as read of his amazing exploits and explorations into the interior, relishing the physical hardship as well as being fearlessly inquisitive. A real inspiration. On top of it all, he was able to recognise the import of what he was seeing, even though it was probably only later that he was able to interpret it. Even more astonishing is the fact that he was only 22 years old when he set out and Captain Fitzroy not much older, and both approached their tasks with huge maturity and responsibility.
The other guests in the hostel were very friendly even though I had about as much energy as a soggy handkerchief, but most notable were Manuel and Ana. He was from Managua and she from the Asturias region in Spain. They had somehow got together in Managua, and were apparently definitively and avowedly in love. Even though they had known eachother for less than 6 weeks they had got married on an impulse. Manuel swore that his grandmother had a failsafe remedy for colds... 12 oranges, 2 large heads of garlic and 2 bottles of honey, the juice of the oranges mixed with the crushed garlic and the honey, to be left to infuse in the air (ferment?) for a day then downed in one draught after an all night fast. The miracle was that it didn't ferment in the foetid heat, I think the garlic was such a powerful antibiotic, and when it came to downing it, I could only manage to drink one litre and not the full litre and a half. I thought I was going to vomit it was so sweet and the garlic and onion so pungent. The next day I was starting to recover and Manuel claimed it was due to his medical prowess. I put it down to lots of fluid, vitamin tabs and rest the previous 4 days, but didn't have the heart to say that. He made another concotion for a Spanish surfer with 3 heads of garlic as a stomach purge. I hate to think what that was like! Manuel was trying so hard to please, cooking and doing the laundry for them both as well as them inviting me to eat whatever they were having. It was very sweet, but tinged with desperation. I couldn't help the feeling that she was very secure and from an affluent country and he was hoping for a ticket out of Nicaragua with all his soul. Managua is a very rough place. I met 3 people who were robbed there on 2 separate occasions and heard of several other cases. The favourite method is to sit next to foreigner on a bus, befriend them, offer to accompany them in a taxi as only they know who and what is safe, and make sure that they get into a car with an accomplice, The unfortunate victim is then driven around cashpoint machines at gunpoint or knifepoint, emptying the account to the limit, then they steal clothes and cameras and generally let them go unharmed, often with the now exhausted card. Unemployment and poverty is so rife, that many of them see this form of crime as a career.
However it was a good opportunity to make a start with Charles Darwin's Journal of the Voyage on the Beagle. The only reason I allowed myself to read it was because it's good preparation should I get to visit the Galapagos Islands in Ecuador. Otherwise, I have a personal ban on reading books in English as it doesn't help my Spanish. It was awe inspiring to read his rigorous descriptions of flora and fauna as well as read of his amazing exploits and explorations into the interior, relishing the physical hardship as well as being fearlessly inquisitive. A real inspiration. On top of it all, he was able to recognise the import of what he was seeing, even though it was probably only later that he was able to interpret it. Even more astonishing is the fact that he was only 22 years old when he set out and Captain Fitzroy not much older, and both approached their tasks with huge maturity and responsibility.
The other guests in the hostel were very friendly even though I had about as much energy as a soggy handkerchief, but most notable were Manuel and Ana. He was from Managua and she from the Asturias region in Spain. They had somehow got together in Managua, and were apparently definitively and avowedly in love. Even though they had known eachother for less than 6 weeks they had got married on an impulse. Manuel swore that his grandmother had a failsafe remedy for colds... 12 oranges, 2 large heads of garlic and 2 bottles of honey, the juice of the oranges mixed with the crushed garlic and the honey, to be left to infuse in the air (ferment?) for a day then downed in one draught after an all night fast. The miracle was that it didn't ferment in the foetid heat, I think the garlic was such a powerful antibiotic, and when it came to downing it, I could only manage to drink one litre and not the full litre and a half. I thought I was going to vomit it was so sweet and the garlic and onion so pungent. The next day I was starting to recover and Manuel claimed it was due to his medical prowess. I put it down to lots of fluid, vitamin tabs and rest the previous 4 days, but didn't have the heart to say that. He made another concotion for a Spanish surfer with 3 heads of garlic as a stomach purge. I hate to think what that was like! Manuel was trying so hard to please, cooking and doing the laundry for them both as well as them inviting me to eat whatever they were having. It was very sweet, but tinged with desperation. I couldn't help the feeling that she was very secure and from an affluent country and he was hoping for a ticket out of Nicaragua with all his soul. Managua is a very rough place. I met 3 people who were robbed there on 2 separate occasions and heard of several other cases. The favourite method is to sit next to foreigner on a bus, befriend them, offer to accompany them in a taxi as only they know who and what is safe, and make sure that they get into a car with an accomplice, The unfortunate victim is then driven around cashpoint machines at gunpoint or knifepoint, emptying the account to the limit, then they steal clothes and cameras and generally let them go unharmed, often with the now exhausted card. Unemployment and poverty is so rife, that many of them see this form of crime as a career.
The next day I felt well enough to go to the beach with them, we made an incongroud group, but it was great to have company and practise my Spanish. Towards the end of the afternoon, Manuel was totally drunk and I left them to their devices, ate at the market and started to practise the guitar. At which point, Manuel in floods of tears found me and beseeched me to come and play for him and Ana in their room, she had told him it was over and he was thoroughly distraught. I declined to serenade them, but wound up in a counselling role as she came downstairs to tell me that they were just too different to be together and she was pretty cool and collected. He was very emotional, regaling every guest he could find with his tale of woe, that he was off to Managua, he didn't know what to do etc. to cut a long story short, they were still together in the morning.....
The Spanish surfer dude, Mauel and Ana, with the 2 bottles of muti on the table
The Spanish surfer dude, Mauel and Ana, with the 2 bottles of muti on the table
The beach at sunset
The very odd trio at the beach before Manuel lost his mind
A picture of true love.....
the next day, I still didn't have the energy to leave although feeling much better, so decided to go out on a fishing expedition in the afternoon just to get out of the fleapit. Oddly enough, this coincided with the Virgin of Carmen's special day, as she is the patron of fishermen in this neck of the woods, they dress her up, parade her through the town on a float and then take her on a boat out to sea.
Now the sea that day was particularly rough and we had the comic spectacle of our boat captain on his cellphone telling the Virgin's boat not to leave the bay, in case they lost her overboard! You'd think with all that divine power she'd be capable of looking out for herself.... Still she smiled on me, because I caught a 1 1/2 kg mackerel, and just as I got it into the boat, the captain was shouting "Ballena! Ballena!" There were 2 orca whales playing in the waves, it was very special. One even jumped up vertically. That night the American family and I dined on the fish we caught (they caught a tuna), and later on I saw some awesome electric guitar improvisation. A fitting farewell to San Juan.
The Virgen del Carmen leaving church
The rough seas, looking across to Madera beach
All dressed up and ready to go on her float (which might not have)
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