Four airplanes arrived in Nicaragua on the same day and at the same time. We were standing in an unusually long, disorganized line in customs. There was a small space in front of me…enough space for the man’s backpack to rest on the floor. Suddenly, a family of Nicaraguans rushed into the space in front of me. I glared at them and pointed to where the line ended. Yet, they didn’t move. I think they were trying to tell me, “My happy place is in your personal space.”
Cultural space: The final frontier. Invisible bubbles of space surround all of us and they vary according to the norms of the places where we live. Why do we have personal spaceissues and how do they differ from Nicaragua?
Me holding a stranger’s baby on a crowded chicken bus.
Returning to San Jorge from Granada last week, I had an interesting conversation with my taxi driver. We were stopped by the traffic police in order to check the taxi driver’s legal documents.
“Are you worried when the police stop you?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he responded. “Everything is legal and correct.”
A friend, visiting Nicaragua for the first time, arrived in Rivas on a chicken bus. She needed a taxi to San Jorge to catch the ferry…about a five-minute ride. She told me that she paid $20 for the taxi ride from Rivas to San Jorge. I was furious because a colectivo ( a taxi that takes numerous people around the Rivas area ) charges 20 cords per person. An expreso ( a taxi that takes only one person to San Jorge from Rivas) charges 100 cords.
My former fifth grade student is visiting Nicaragua for the first time. On her 19th birthday, we took her to Charco Verde to see the monkeys. Returning home in the taxi, we had a flat tire. I couldn’t help but laugh at the taxi driver’s t-shirt. The Start of Something Big His t-shirt says it all about living in Nicaragua.
The Weekly Photo Challenge is On the Way. We’ve just returned from the USA…a wonderful visit with family and friends, but it is always GREAT to return home.
There are two ways to return to our Ometepe Island home. Sometimes we fly and walk to our house from the airport, but because we were returning with over 200 pounds of books and materials for my elementary school library, we took the ferry.
We usually see unusual things on our way home, but this was really unique. A circus was in town and the trainer took the elephant to the lake for a bath.
We are passionate about travel…always have been…always will be. I’m back in the states digitizing my photos and I found the perfect photos to represent broken. While roaming through Portugal, we discovered the Capela dos Ossos ( Chapel of Bones) in Évora.
This small chapel was built in the 16th century by a Franciscan monk, who wanted to send the message that life is transitory. A broken skeleton dangles near the entrance, reminding all who enter that “Better is the day of death, than the day of birth.”
The weekly photo challenge is Early Bird. Living in Nicaragua, we’ve become accustomed to rising early…sometimes as early as 4:30 am. All of the action occurs early in the morning in Nicaragua…the earlier the better because the afternoons are reserved for long siestas in the tropical heat.
If you are an early bird, you will probably see… the parrot getting the first ripe mango Continue reading →
A malecón is a jetty, but in Nicaragua it is more like a boardwalk and a port. The San Jorge port, where people make connections to Ometepe Island is undergoing a facelift.
When it is completed, it will be a hub of activity with shops, new docks for the ferries, a new parking lot, hotels, restaurants, and a ferry station. When we returned from Granada to San Jorge to catch the ferry home, colorful banners and hundreds of swimmers greeted us for the upcoming Semana Santa week (Easter week).
“To travel is to live.” ― Hans Christian Andersen, The Fairy Tale of My Life: An Autobiography
I am consumed by wanderlust, nourished by voyages and treks regarded as less than desirable in popular tourist guides, and gorged with peregrination. Traveling is my life. I am lucky in love to have found a partner who shares my enthusiasm and passion for the roads less traveled.
Yet, I often wonder, “Why us?” Neither sets of our parents or grandparents, had the urge to jump into an exotic new life, even temporarily. They were content to stay on their farms, or the small towns in which they lived. They reacted to our gypsytoes with nervous, worried, and dismayed comments. My mother insisted on telling her church companions that we were missionaries in Nicaragua. Ron’s father scratched his head with puzzlement, “Why would anyone ever want to leave home?”
“Life is like facing two mirrors at each other: there is no beginning, there is no end. Just the beauty within the reflected infinity” ― Michael Biondi
Last week was our second time to fly to the Corn Islands. We were hoping to visit Little Corn Island this time, but it wasn’t in the cards. The winds were ferocious and it rained on and off all week making the thoughts of a long panga ride to Little Corn Island one big vomit fest. I opted out of that adventure, and a good thing I did, because we heard that a huge wave attacked a man riding in the front of the panga. He was thrown to the back of the panga…breaking his back!!! He had to be flown to Managua by helicopter.
We stayed with friends who have a beautiful house on Big Corn Island. Late one afternoon, we took them to Martha’s Restaurant for dinner and I walked around a pond where I took these reflections of the trees in the water.
Did you ever wonder if the person in a puddle is real, and you are just a reflection of her? That was one of many strange reflections I had as I peered into the water.