Weekly Photo Challenge: Heads Up!

Life is a balancing act. You need to keep your head up and your feet on the ground, while allowing your heart to go wherever it pleases! ~Susan Gale

I spend entirely too much time with my nose to the ground in Nicaragua. There are hidden dangers lurking in the forms of scorpions, red ants, and biting centipedes. Yet, I need to remember that life is a balancing act. There are beautiful surprises awaiting when I choose to hold my head up high!

Coconuts, the life force of Nicaragua.

Hidden among the fronds are vampire bats.
Our Peras are ripe. A new batch of apple sauce and Pera pie is on the way.
The bananas have a couple of months left before they are ripe.
If we can only keep the Howler monkeys from nibbling on the bananas!
Our orchid is blooming, strung high in the nancite tree.
Marvin’s welding mask is strung high in the water tower. Our new water supply is almost finished.
My new Moroccan lamp shines colorfully in the darkness reminding me to keep my head up and my feet on the ground, for life is truly a balancing act.

My heart will always be free to roam, wherever it pleases. Thank you, my precious Nicaragua.

 

A Voyage Across the Sweet Sea

In 1866, Mark Twain described the volcanoes on Ometepe Island, as “two magnificent pyramids clad in the softest and richest green, all flecked with shadow and sunshine.” Since we had been island bound for several months, the time had come to voyage across the sweet sea for some Christmas shopping on the mainland.

Leaving the port town of Moyogalpa.

We boarded the 9:00 am ferry and chugged past the picturesque port town of Moyogalpa, where layers of green foliage spread softly like cake frosting into the sweet sea of Cocibolca.

The roof of our house on the far right.

Fifteen minutes later, the wind-churned waves carried us past our house (on the far right) and the quaint little community of La Paloma, where houses dotted the black sand beach in vibrant hard-candy shades of lemon yellow, sour apple green, and watermelon pink. The rafts of Puesta del Sol bobbed gently in the waves, signaling that the windy months were upon us.

Now we have a view of both volcanoes..Maderas, the dormant volcano is on the right.

Rounding the point of Jesus Maria, the twin volcanoes came into view. Mark Twain described them as “summits piercing the billowy clouds.”

The new airport is almost done.

During the California gold rush, Cornelius Vanderbilt invested heavily in a land-sea route across Nicaragua, avoiding the grueling wagon trail ride across the United States fraught with bandits, diseases, and accidents. Twain opted for the Nicaraguan route in his 1866 trip back east.
As we glide past the new runway, I wonder how the airport will change Ometepe. The runway and the terminal are complete, with only the construction of the tower remaining. It won’t be long, now. What would Twain think if he could have soared through the billowy clouds to our oasis of peace?

They are constructing the tower, now.

Quite a dramatic entrance to Ometepe. I hope the plane can stop in time before it reaches the volcano.

The Ferry passes by on its way to Moyogalpa from the mainland.

Waving to the ferry passengers returning to la isla from the mainland, I wonder what the first-time tourists think. Will they enjoy their stay? An hour’s trip across the great sweet sea is always a feast for my senses.

Nice view of our active volcano, Concepcion.

During Twain’s time, the cross-lake steamer bypassed Ometepe on its way to the Rio San Juan. Too bad, for if Twain would have had an opportunity to visit our lovely island, I know he would have written about gorging his senses on the ravenous beauty and mysteries surrounding us. A voyage across the sweet sea is always an adventure…one that never ceases to amaze me.

 

The Expat Gathering

A gathering…a social affair…an assembly of unique expats convening together for the purpose of fellowship. That’s exactly what Theresa had in mind when she decided to start a monthly gathering of expats on Ometepe Island. Together we can share our hopes, dreams, plans, and projects.

Although our little island is only 22 miles long, with a population of 45,000 people, and about 150 expats, some parts of the island still lack electricity and many parts lack running water. New roads are slowly wrapping around the island, offering easier access to civilization. Yet, for all the progress in the past eight years, we rarely go to the other side of the island and seldom visit with friends beyond our expat internet group.

Theresa organized a pot luck for the end of October at the Cocibolca bar in Moyogalpa. I decorated name tags with orange pumpkins, Ron brought sweet potato cuttings, and we came together for our first, of many ( I hope ), expat gatherings.

What a gathering it was! I met engineers, educators, homeopathic doctors, pig farmers, butchers that make homemade sausages, herbalists, philanthropists, bed and breakfast owners, hotel owners, realtors, agricultural specialists, and retired volunteers. I was amazed by the talents of the expats living on the island…many of whom I had never met.

After introductions, we shared a delicious lunch, and made plans for our Thanksgiving gathering. Sorry to add that I didn’t take one picture of our Thanksgiving gathering. I must have been too busy making gravy and slicing turkey. I’m looking forward to our December gathering. The weather is perfect, we are finally feeling almost normal after our bouts with illness, and life is good…for which I am very grateful.

Gypsy does Cocibolca

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We haven’t taken our kayak, Gypsy, out for a while. It’s mango season again, and I’ve raked rotten mangoes for a month. Yesterday was a beautiful day, so we took Gypsy on a short excursion. Someday, I’d like to kayak around Ometepe Island. I think it’s doable. We can take a tent and camp along the way, or dock at a hostel on a beach. So many plans, so little time.

This week we’re going to take a mini-vacation to Leon and the beaches near Leon. I’ve wondered about the significance of the Gigantonas. They appear in every parade in Nicaragua. A Gigantona is a giant doll with dark hair carried by a person inside the doll while wearing stilts. A ‘big head’ follows the Gigantona drumming and dancing. There is a museum in Leon, the Museum of Legends and Traditions. I know this will be the place to satisfy my curiosity about the Gigantonas.

Gigantona and Big Head

Enjoy my slideshow, Gypsy does Cocibolca.

Daily Wonders

Usually life is a mystery in the “land of the not quite right”. Here are a few of my daily wonders.

1. I wonder why the electricity cuts off at 6 pm every night for 15-30 minutes.
2. I wonder if I’ll have enough electricity to do a load of wash in the morning.
3. I wonder how the first banana tree grew since it doesn’t have seeds.
4. I wonder if our little neighbor kids know that we can’t speak Spanish fluently or if they think we’re just stupid.
5. I wonder when my chickens sneeze (and yes, they do sneeze) if it always means they have a cold.
6. I wonder how Ometepe Island will change when they complete the new airport.
7. I wonder whose dog/horse/pig/chicken/cat/cow/bull is in our yard nibbling our mangoes.
8. I wonder if we will ever view life as “normal” again.
9. I wonder if we are “normal”
10. I wonder if I’ll ever stop wondering about life in Nicaragua.

 

 

The Seed Swap

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Our island of volcanic rock, isolated by miles of sweet sea in every direction, was completely separated from the rest of the world. As Ometepe Island emerged from the majestic Lake Cocibolca, new species of plants were introduced by the birds and animals hardy enough to survive the journey. Seeds hitched a ride to the island hidden in the plumage of birds. Insects and spiders probably rode the wind to Ometepe.

Over time, new species of plants and animals were introduced by sweet sea-faring visitors and indigenous tribes who were called by a vision to settle in the land of two hills. The arrival of mankind permanently severed Ometepe Island’s isolation, thus introducing a variety of animal and plant species not native to the area. Today, the steady traffic of ferries to and from the island brings a constant stream of invasive species.

We are also guilty of introducing new species of plants to the island. My friend, Carole, smuggled a sweet potato in her luggage, and now Ron is known as the sweet potato king of the island. Is this a bad thing? I’m not sure. All of the new species smuggled, exchanged, and carried to the island immediately begin to compete with native species, and the native species almost always are on the losing end of the battle. Several years ago, expats started a Tilapia farm on the Maderas side of the island. Some of the Tilapia escaped, reproduced rapidly, and continue to compete for food with the native fish species, Guapote.

Last week, we were invited to a seed swap on the other side of the island. Among the seeds and saplings, we found a Jackfruit tree. A.heterophyllus-jackfruit(1)  In researching the Jackfruit tree, I found that it was introduced in Brazil as a reforestation project. This program was the first Brazilian initiative to recover a forest ecosystem previously devastated by sugarcane and coffee cycles. However, the Jackfruit has become an invasive species. The rainforests have suffered major impacts due to biological invasion, and Brazil had to start management and control of this invasive species.

I don’t want to start an invasion meltdown…it’s quite a dilemma. I enjoy my sweet potato pies and Jackfruit cookies. On the other hand, the introduction of non-native species negatively impacts our fragile ecosystem. The statistics are startling and more attention must be paid to the problem. Awareness is the first step.

Fortunately, most of the seeds and plants at the seed exchange were native species. The locals have an astounding knowledge of the medicinal uses of all the plants and trees on the island and I learned many uses of the seeds, barks, leaves, and roots of the plants. It was a great day on the other side of the island. Enjoy my slideshow trip.

 

What if she BLOWS?

Moyogalpa, Ometepe Island, Nicaragua

March 8th, 2010 started like every other day in Moyogalpa. The symphony of roosters ushered in the day, the March winds howled, and early risers hawked their tortillas throughout the streets. Yet, the beginning of a tranquil, sun drenched day turned dark and ominous when Vulcan Concepcion rumbled, then explosively burped ash and gas plumes 2,100 meters high into the hot, dry, blue sky. Powdery ash blanketed nearby communities like baby powder sprinkled on a new-born.

Boooom in Moyogalpa!

On subsequent days, the volcano gained momentum. On March 12, Washington VAAC, issued a volcanic ash advisory reporting an ash cloud eruption that reached 10,000 ft. By the middle of March, the Nicaraguan geological service INETER described Concepcion as ” practically in a full eruptive stage”, with 34 explosions between March 18-19.

The Nicaraguan government sent army and navy units to Ometepe Island to prepare for evacuation. Yet, strangely, the locals went about their days hawking tortillas, as if this were an everyday occurrence. They swept the ash from their doorsteps with their twig brooms, and waited patiently for the throngs of soldiers to exit their beloved island.

Did they know something we didn’t? Shortly after all the fuss, feeding an army of disaster responders, and stuffing their bellies with homemade tortillas, Concepcion decided enough was enough. Her attention seeking activity had been rewarded, and she lulled herself back into a peaceful slumber. Until the next time!

Vulcan Concepcion is a highly active volcano with a rich historical record of explosive eruptions. The Global Volcanism Program reports a series of 22 eruptions ( mostly ash and gas), since 1974. See report here.

Several Nicaraguan websites promoting tourism mention, “The Concepcion is an active volcano and its most recent eruption took place in 1957.” It’s true that the islanders confirm, “No need to panic. These minor eruptions happen all the time.” Daily life continues uninterrupted, with only a few minor inconveniences, like sweeping the powdery ash from their doorsteps.

Ash from the 2007 eruption.

Am I worried? I’m not obsessed with the anticipation of the next eruption. I have my twig broom ready, a few heavy-duty surgical masks to place over our mouths and noses, and a kayak to make a quick escape, (hopefully before we succumb to deadly gases). What more can I do?

2007 eruption from Moyogalpa

Life goes on as normal. I continue to rake mangoes, harvest fruit, and enjoy a fulfilled and stress-free life on Ometepe Island. Until the next time!

Windows of the World

I was chatting with a friend on Facebook the other day about my lending library. It is taking me forever to collect children’s books in Spanish. My initial thoughts were to collect several thousand books and start a lending library in Moyogalpa. However, after visiting two lending libraries in San Juan del Sur and Granada, I became overwhelmed with my plan to make a central location for all of the books. Plus, I am retired, with lots of projects, and I don’t want to be tied down to a library everyday.

Instead, I have decided to take baby steps and empower the schools, one school at a time. When I told my friend that I planned to make a mobile cart, stock it with 100 books, and start with one school, she sent me this picture with a note, “Is this your plan?” Sometimes, you just gotta laugh!

I’m going to have Marvin design me a metal bookcase on wheels that will hold 100 children’s books. Presently, I have close to 200 books collected. My plan is to take the cart with 100 books to the school in Los Ramos after I have the books categorized and sorted. Then, I’ll spend a few days in the classrooms, reading books, doing activities, and explaining how a mobile library works. When I have 100 more books, I’ll repeat the process in another local elementary school. Eventually, I’ll be able to swap out the mobile carts, so the schools have a new collection of books.Maybe this burro idea isn’t so funny? Quien sabe? I must have some way of transporting my carts from one school to another across the island.

The name of my mobile lending library is, Ventanas del Mundo. ( Windows of the World) I am always in search of children’s books in Spanish. If you are making a trip to Ometepe Island, please bring a book for my lending library. You can drop off the books at The Corner House, Mar Dulce, or the American Cafe and Hotel in Moyogalpa. Tell them they are for the book lady in La Paloma. Once again, I thank the awesome people who have already donated books. You are opening many new windows to the world of reading for pleasure.

Soon to come, a new page on my blog explaining the mobile lending library with lots of pictures.

 

See You At The Races

Uncle Johnson with sleeping nephew Stephen

Ultramaratón Fuego y Agua takes place on Ometepe Island on February 18-19. Johnson, our 26 year-old friend, has been training for this grueling race since he won the 50 K race in 2009. At 4:00 am in 2009, the 50 K runners gathered at the starting line. An explosion of fireworks signaled the start, and the runners sprinted into the darkness; but, Johnson was not among them.  A few minutes later, two very confused runners arrived at the empty starting line. Johnson and another girl immediately took off in pursuit of the other runners. Ironically, Johnson had never raced in his life and he won with a time of 6:31.

A champion was born! Today, Johnson continues to hone his athletic abilities. A very talented and natural athlete, Johnson is serious about training. He is on the trail at 4:30 am every morning. Then, a quick breakfast before he starts work in the plantain fields at 7 am. In the evening, he takes to the trails, again. He is an amazing and very determined athlete.

Jose's marathon trophies

Jose, our neighbor, won the 25 K in 2009. Jose had never been in a race, either. Neither Johnson or Jose had any formal training before the Ultramaraton Fuego y Agua. I believe this race opened new worlds for these two talented runners. They both joined a runner’s club and often travel to race in Nicaragua and Costa Rica.

The Race Map

This map exhausts me just looking at it. I can’t imagine racing up and down two volcanoes! This year, Ron and I are volunteering to help the children in the 5 K race on Sunday, February 19th. I am really looking forward to it.

Ultramaratón Fuego y Agua   Check out the website and if you are going to be on Ometepe Island February 18-19, I’ll see you at the races!

 

 

 

 

 

Our First Nicaraguan Thanksgiving

I am in travel mode again. I’m headed to Florida with my mother and step-father, then back to Nicaragua. While I am traveling, enjoy a story I wrote about our first Thanksgiving in Nicaragua in 2004.

Seven years later, many things have changed, while many things stay the same. I’m hoping that I will be able to buy a frozen turkey on the mainland this year. A new airport is almost finished where the old airstrip used to be. Norman still drives his truck around broadcasting the local news. Tourists still die climbing our volcanoes. (The two boys lost on Vulcan Maderas in 2004 were found dead, three weeks later) Our electricity is still sporadic. Yet, for all that remains the same…I wouldn’t trade it for a mansion or a million dollars. Home is where the heart is…and my heart is embedded on Ometepe Island.

Our 2004 Thanksgiving Dinner

A Nicaraguan Thanksgiving

November 24, 2004

            The biggest problems we have encountered in living on Ometepe are speculation and rumors.  Lacking a local newspaper, radio station, or television station, the islanders have to rely on information from an outside source to keep them abreast of current conditions on the home front.  If there is a death, birth, wedding, political rally, or a new bank in Moyogalpa, someone hires Norma’s son to broadcast the announcement.  He hops into his beat up old Nissan truck with two giant speakers in the bed and travels the rutted roads blasting the news, which is gratefully appreciated by even the most auditory challenged listeners.  However, Norma’s son only delivers local Moyogalpa news, so anyone needing information about other parts of the island has to rely on media that isn’t always accurate.  Such was the case on Thanksgiving Day.

A week before Thanksgiving, Ron and I were on a wild chompipe chase, ‘a wild turkey chase’.  I wanted a turkey for Thanksgiving, even though we have no oven to cook it.   Necessity is the mother of invention, so I had a plan to roast it in a big hole that we would dig in the sand on our beach.  Things didn’t turn out as I had planned because, although we found a live turkey, Ron wanted no part of my plan and refused to bother with such a massive production.  However, a day before Thanksgiving, Francisco, my dedicated English student, and now a good friend, came to our rescue with a 5 to 6 pound Guapote that his Uncle Foster caught in his fishing net.

While wandering the streets of Moyogalpa looking for a chompipe, we heard Norma’s son broadcasting the opening of a new bank.  We’re getting rather good at identifying the shish kebob of Spanish words in context and are now able to get the drift of most conversations if we know the subject.  We stopped at the Hospedaje Central for a cold beer and listened to a discussion about the two lost hikers on Vulcan Maderas.   A tourist asked if they found the boys and Valeria launched into a tirade about the stupidity of hikers that refuse to spend ten dollars to hire a guide to trek the volcanoes.

Thanksgiving Day, a week after the boys were lost, Ron and I were disassembling our broken fan to get parts to make a grill for our Guapote, when we heard a helicopter flying above our house.  The only other time we saw anything flying above Ometepe was in early November, right before the elections.  Daniel Ortega hovered above our house and landed in the La Paloma playground near the elementary school.  He campaigned hard for the Sandinista mayor and handed out US dollars to all the kids at the school.  Previously, the islanders had seen one plane in February, 2004.  A prop plane flying from Columbia to Guatemala lost altitude over Ometepe and their choice was to dump their cargo or crash into the lake.  They opted to dump their load, which consisted of many kilos of cocaine dropped from the sky like manna from heaven.

We dropped our fan pieces and ran out to see the helicopter flying in the direction of Vulcan Maderas.  All the neighbors were jumping and running excitedly to catch a glimpse of the novelty.  We wondered if it was the old Sandinista helicopter hired by the US boy’s parents to search for their son.  It looked exactly like the helicopter that Daniel Ortega flew in… an old, army helicopter painted in camouflaged colors.  I wondered who was piloting the antiquated thing and if it was an old Sandinista pilot who had both of his legs blown off in the war.  I wondered why there wasn’t a helicopter hired to search for the El Salvadoran and if the boys on Vulcan Maderas were still alive.

A few minutes later, a new Piper Cub buzzed our house.  It circled four times headed for the old landing strip near our house.  We all hopped on bicycles and peddled frantically to the old landing strip to see if it would land.  Julio clung to the handlebars, Luvis straddled the rear tire, Ron panted as he wove through the rutted, black sand road, and I ran along the side.  At the old air strip, everyone from La Paloma had gathered to watch the event.  I really don’t know if the landing strip had ever been used and after a heavy rainy season, the volcanic sand had washed most of the strip into the lake leaving crevices large enough to park a Mac Truck inside the holes.  The islanders watched in fascination as the shiny bird circled four more times, each time getting lower to inspect the potential landing site.  But, to the disappointment of all, it was unable to land and it sped off across the lake toward Managua .

Like the fish kill in September, speculation and rumor abounded.  Everyone thought these unusual sightings of novel flying machines had something to do with the boys lost on the volcano.  One onlooker said he just heard on the radio that one of the boys had been found alive.  Another said, “No.  All they found so far was a wallet.”  Everyone agreed that it was a huge event because the lost boys  were gringos.  Although the other boy was from Great Britain, all the islanders called anyone with white skin a gringo. Technically, that term is reserved for citizens of the USA because during the war with Mexico, when the Mexican soldiers saw the green uniforms of US soldiers, they said, “Green, go” in other words, “get your asses out of our country.”  But, the islanders use the term affectionately and we don’t find it offensive.

Where was Norma’s son when you needed him?  We didn’t know what to believe about the lost boys.  We returned to our house and it began to rain, so instead of grilled Guapote, Ron made a delicious Guapote Thanksgiving stew.  I think it topped the turkey.  We sipped a bottle of Chilean wine and toasted our lives on this wondrous primitive island lacking any hint of tourism infrastructure.  We gave thanks for the many blessings bestowed on our lives and prayed for the safety of the boys on the volcano.  We drank to our generous neighbors, whose family has increased now that Papa’s two older daughters and their little niños have moved back home ( another long, sad, story) , and thanked them for translating the TV news that evening using slow, well pronounced words for our benefit.  The Managua station said there is no new information.  It’s been ten days now and the boys still haven’t been found.  We’re all dreading the news that maybe they didn’t survive and wondering what the effects of these deaths will have on tourism on Ometepe.

Sideline:  Sorry, this letter is so disjointed.  We’ve been without electricity 2 days now, and tonight (Sunday) our neighbors who own the little palm leafed bar down the road have somehow bypassed the transformer that blew up so they could have electricity for cold beer and loud music.  Lester’s Papa sent him on his bicycle tonight to tell us that we’d have electricity until 3 am .  With lots of sign language and pictures on our white board, we figured out that the temporary line is dangling dangerously close to the lake water and we have to shut off the power to our house before we go to bed so we don’t get a dangerous power surge.  Anyway, that’s the best I can make of it.  It has been a relaxing change without power.  I’ve read, painted a beautiful watercolor scene looking out our front door, and Ron’s been busy in the garden… which I promise will be the next newsletter.  We had our freezer full of chicken, Guapote, and hamburger.. so today we had a big feast with the neighbors.  We grilled hamburgers, made two types of delicious fish and cheese stews, and ate delicious grilled chicken and plantains.  Lourdita, the 3-year-old, wore her red party dress, which she tore on the fence; we danced, drank lemon/rum drinks, warm beer…, and sang lots of Spanish songs.

It’s almost December and we’re looking forward to many celebrations.  Cory will be here Dec. 9th, Julio’s birthday is the sixth, ( now, he and Luvis have told me that Papa looked at The Paper and said that Julio is only 11 and Luvis is only 10 ) go figure….no one seems to know how old they are here!!  Our neighbor’s daughter at the local bar is getting married this month, and many French Canadians have flown in for the wedding, because Eric, the groom, is from Quebec .  We feel like we are becoming a part of the community now.  I even helped to birth Don Jose’s litter of piglets.

Today started a festival of the Immaculate Conception.  Apparently, they take the Virgin Mary out of the church and she sleeps in various homes for the next eight days.  Everyone gets to hunt for her at 7 o’clock each evening.  When they find her, the house owner has to give everyone presents, like fruit, candy, and little toys.  Then, the home owner has to cart her back to the church and they start all over again.  Ron and I are hoping that she doesn’t end up at our house because we’ll have to buy lots of toys and candy and she’d be very heavy to carry a mile back to town.  We can’t quite figure out how the Immaculate Conception occurred on Dec. 8th and Jesus was born on Dec. 25th.

Well, I’m really rambling, now…trying to fit it all in and copy it before we shut off the power to the house.  I’d better close this before I really get carried away.  I’ll write a better letter when I have reliable power.

 

The Nica Artist Way

“Creativity lies in paradox: serious art is born from serious play.” ~Julia Cameron

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Retiring abroad has enabled me to look at the same thing as everyone else, yet see something different. It is one of the many creative paradoxes in my life on the island. I alternate between imagination and fantasy, yet living in a third world country, I have a rooted sense of reality. So, when my artist friend, Sue, showed me her hand-painted silk scarves and murals she created to liven the streets and hostels in Nicaragua, I hired her on the spot to help me design a 15 ft mural to hang above my kitchen.

The first suitcase I packed when we moved to Ometepe permanently, was overflowing with my art supplies, paper, brushes, wood burning kit, and art books. I envisioned spending most of my time drawing, painting, and writing from the right side of my brain. However, to create one must work hard, but spend time doing nothing. I was spending a lot of time working hard, yet doing nothing to fulfill my passions in the art world.

Side by side with paint brushes swirling, splashing, dripping, and sliding smoothly across a fuchsia background, we meshed with a zen-like quality. I was feeling life, instead of merely being a participant. Sitting in my purple plastic chair, painting twisted leaves and trailing vines, the clouds parted, exposing a clarity and sense of wonderment…if only for a moment. “Is this heaven?” I wondered.

With Sue’s gentle guidance, I was able to see unexpected connections between life and art. I was learning to develop a sophisticated eye, yet see like a child. Eyes without borders..no preconceived notions, no abstractions, no stereotypes, no biases. Simple freedom without the price of war, like stripping away the armor…becoming butt naked without self-consciousness.

Creative people tend to be smart, yet naïve at the same time. Sue taught me this paradox without saying a word. Playfulness and discipline were our mantras. We shared good humor and laughed until we cried. We were openly vulnerable, sharing our joys and our sorrows.Then, spans of silence shrouded us with peace and comfort, while we joyfully painted our little hearts out.

“There is a road from the eye to the heart that does not go through the intellect.” (G.K.Chesterton) This is art. This is life. I miss Sue. She’s returned to the states. I am so very grateful for her inspiration, her friendship, and her gentle guidance in the learning the Nica artist way.

O-M-E-T-E-P-E

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I always wanted to be a cheerleader.