There and back again or so it seems

Antigua, Guatemala

After a 17 hour bus trip, during which I had an 11 hour bout of motion sickness because the first leg of the winding road was in a lumbering, smelly, double decker bus driven by a lead-footed pinhead who obviously thought it was a taxi in rush hour, we're back in Antigua under the same gray skies we left a month ago, our time in hot hot Nicaragua a phantasmagoria of images, smells, tastes, sounds, textures, and memories of several delightful friendships made along the way, including Paloma the dog. I´m still having trouble accessing my photos. I now have about 3000 on the 8 gig card in my camera so the cafe computers get hung trying to access them. I swear, we both swear, this is the_last_time we travel without laptops. But, in case we do, I did finally get a pro flicker account and from now on will (once I upload these) upload photos regularly instead of waiting until there are so many they would choke a elephant. Bad metaphor. Sorry elephants.

Anyway... about Nicaragua...
From Chinandega we did make it to the beach. Jiquilillo (He-key-leo). We didn't stay at Rancho Esperanza but that's the place I´d recommend. Nate, the owner/manager is a great guy and from there you'll get the purest experience of the place. On his recommendation we hired a local guy, Eddy, to guide us on a boat trip through the Padre Ramos Estuary, an irreplaceable, endangered wetlands reserve in Jiquilillo. Eddy is another great guy (28) who, since SELVA pulled out because of Nicaragua´s political instability, is waging what is basically a single-handed battle to save the estuary that is, among other things, the traditional nesting ground for endangered sea turtles.

Before leaving Nicaragua, we saw ongoing demonstrations in both León and Managua, the capital city. They were a drag. Sunday afternoon, M. Lee walked to the bus terminal to get our tickets for the next day and on the way back to the hostel found himself in the midst of a mob of masked protesters firing morter guns and being generally shitheads in any way they could. The blasts went on for hours. Seems they need to intimidate the losing side which is protesting the fact that the elections were not monitored or transparent.


Ironically, the next evening just after dark as the bus wound its way north through the mountains, I glimpsed two huge white Brahmas bedded down peacefully under the trees by the foot path through a small yard leading to an open air thatched roof hut. The family was gathered around the cook fire on the porch as the cows chewed their cuds in the yard. It was one of the most tranquil scenes I´ve ever witnessed.

Tonight, after the usual round of explosives, the bells of La Merced are engaged in a sad duet. I am awash with fragmented impressions, and detached memories. Anything is possible. At the moment, I´m not even sure which world I live in.