Local news at noon, or there abouts

Yesterday I finished the first issue of the newsletter I volunteered to help with. Next month's publication shouldn't take as long although I do have a genius for complicating very simple tasks. In other news, I'm holding to my decision to downsize the Bird Park, or at least be more selective about who I roll the welcome mat out for. I tried but couldn't entirely cut off the magpies. That early morning guy kept showing up looking for peanuts so, yes, I toss a few out but I am not going back to the way is was, obsessively shelling and crushing large amounts of peanuts to keep the park flush most of the day. As you might recall, that led to magpies and crows snacking on the quail babies. I had to choose. The office re-organization, begun last New Year, is creeping along. I managed to hold the line in '08 so I didn't have to start over in '09. For me, holding the line is progress. And this year already I have managed to eliminate one desk and replace it with an only slightly dented but otherwise lovely secondhand white metal bookshelf ($15) with a much smaller footprint which absorbs the items formerly piled on the gone desk, thereby allowing me to shift the PO tub and shelves to the same wall, thus making the entrance to my office less like a tunnel, big victory, although the Invisible Theatre stage may swap places with the bookshelf later because the light is better there for photos and video but I don't have to do everything at once, do I? And this morning more small changes afoot. Without an additional purchase, although I have a couple in mind down the line, I believe I can move the synthesizer keyboard into my office without being bottoms up for days in a very messy revision that might not work anyway. Wish me luck. Looks like it will fit on top of the other desk that is currently earmarked for removal. I will have to use earphones when the keyboard is in my office but what the hell? Keyboards are portable. If I want to mix or record anything or play through the speakers, I can take it out to the front room. I love baby steps. One last thing. Yesterday, Kimberlee's post, Gringa in Santiago, motivated me to desperate measures as the little Spanish I acquired in Centroamerica, in language school and via the gentler kinder method, osmosis, has been melting like the ice caps. I've had fantasies of asking a stranger, maybe some lady shopping in the grocery store, if she would consider being my language buddy but, no matter how I ran the scenario in my head, it always ended with a very uncomfortable stranger backing away and me feeling like a creepy idiot. However, I have had one possible candidate in mind for a while, the manager of the G'ville Fish store where I bought the bookshelf last week (secondhand store, not secondhand fish). He's a nice guy, Spanish is his native language, and we already have that all-important nodding acquaintance so yesterday, after reading about Kimberlee's first day in Spanish class, I did it. I asked if he'd mind it if I practice my (mutilated) Spanish on him. He not only said yes but added that we could help each other as he is always interested in improving his English. He's already very proficient but I am delighted to reciprocate. Cool. There is always more to learn about a language. Myself, I'm still learning English.

BANNED - Veggie Love

Too hot for Superbowl!

Heh heh. GO PETA!


I've been a veggie for years and highly recommend it.


It's way healthier, although I did have my cheesy puff phase. But if the PETA video offends your moral, aesthetic, or intellectual sensibilities, or you are outraged because they are exploiting women by pandering to stupid, sexist pigs remember that glamourless guys like Pythagoras, Plato, Leonardo da Vinci, Sir Isaac Newton, Van Gogh, and Albert Einstein were also vegetarians. I don't know about Cartman.

Nigerian police detain goat

"Suspect"
We are still living in the fucking dark ages.This kind of shit makes me sick. It's not quaint or funny. It's pathetic. And it's dangerous. I put witchcraft, evangelical religion, sexism, speciesism, conspicuous consumption, and other things, all on the same lunatic continuum...but no time now. Gotta go.

Police parade goat as robbery suspect

The goat "suspect" is being detained over an alleged attempt to snatch a Mazda car. The mysterious goat, according to the Police Public Relations Officer, Mr. Tunde Mohammed, while briefing bewildered journalists at the Force headquarters, is an armed robber who attempted to snatch the said car, Wednesday night, and later transformed into the goat in a bid to escape arrest.

He explained that men of a vigilance group in Anifowose Ipata/Oloje areas of the state capital had chased two armed robbery suspects who wanted to demobilise the Mazda car with the intention of stealing it, and

"while one of them escaped, the other was about to be apprehended by the team when he turned his back on the wall and turned to this goat. They quickly grabbed the goat and here it is.’’ Mohammed said.

More at Vanguard Online

A "Vigilance Group". Right. A mob of idiots. Leave the poor goat alone.

Dear Mr. President

These delightful snippets come via Huffingtonpost. No surprise really but these kids are all smarter than Bush & Company. Will we prove to be now that it's time to act?


Dear Mr. President,

I'm writing to you so you can hear a kid's point of view. Lots of people care about global warming. I think if you could find a way to let people know that you care about our environment, you could set a good example. I bet you could make lots of people bike to places or recycle, or even use less electricity. - Elise

To start off, I want to say this is a serious letter. Don't read this letter thinking that I'm just a puny 5th grader in Massachusetts whose opinion doesn't matter, because I know it does. And if a little President's helper is reading this, give it to the President. - Harry

I would like you to be friendly to other countries and save our environment. - Stephanie

If global warming is not decreased it will become extremely dangerous. Many polar bears are dying. - Henry

I think you should pay attention to global warming. Why? Because global warming is happening on our planet Earth where both you and I live. - Erin

You should donate money to save the rain forest charities and recycle charities. People are out there trying to have a voice and say in what's going on in the global warming, but nobody listens. But you have a voice in this, you can do a lot. - Eliza

You can make cars that go by sunlight, like solar cars! - Yoojin

No school on Fridays. Less homework. Stop the war. Stop global warming. - Ben

You could spend money on trying to find more green stuff like extremely fuel efficient vehicles. - Eliza

If you don't take my advice many children will be mad at you! So would you want the children of the U.S.A. thinking they are living in a horrible place or would you want them to be happy? - Jameson

I hope you understand I'm not demanding you to do these, I'm asking you. I want you to try to think about global warming. We all don't want the water levels to rise. - Anna

I simply hope that you can solve the problems of the world, and make it a better place for everyone. - Warren

Congratulations President Obama! We wish you and your family the best! - The Park School Fifth Grade

Torture Prosecutions

On the eve of Bush and Cheney's exit from office it is vital to remember that...

Silence is compliance.

Bush and his administration must be prosecuted for their war crimes, especially for ordering acts of torture. If we allow them to walk away from these criminal acts, we are as guilty in our cowardly silence, as they by willfully violating both Constitutional and International law.


torture Obama war crimes torture prosecutions

Notes from the crossroad

I am currently in the middle of what is shaping up to be my yearly new year's office re-organization. Last year's attempt, while a good start, didn't quite meet the projected goal. It is still frightfully congested in here. Adding a desk did not magically result in one open surface. The new space quickly became as cluttered as all the others. I could have told myself that last year. Did. The only problem was I wasn't listening. However, this year I tweaked the concept. Reduce surface space. Reduce opportunity for chaos. Here's how it works. Toss out two tables. Replace with one cheap, small computer desk. Add one bookshelf. Move shit around. This time it is going to be different.

Anyway, just thinking with my fingers. Talking to myself. Technorati puts this blog in 1,150,716th place. Dismal. That makes the language barrier a very tucked away corner of the digital multiverse, much like a tiny corner table in a noisy, overcrowded coffee house with steamy windows and an anything can happen, don't know where this is going, crossroad of the world feeling.

I have to stop now. I'm meeting a guy in Reno in a couple of hours to discuss a tiny newsletter type thing I'm going to be working on now that I'm back, provided I don't lose my left hand. If I am reduced to a one-hand-hunt-n-peck, I would probably be a little choosier with my time at the keyboard. Swirling around the event horizon would but probably, remain high on the list while public service work could drop a notch or two. I just jammed a seam ripper about a half inch into the fleshy part between my thumb and hand. Puncture wound. Deep. A full force flaying of the flesh that would be impossible to do intentionally. I have little interest in being a fall on my sword hero. I doused it with everything in the bathroom. It doesn't look like much now but it did some mighty throbbing in the beginning. Already, I'm thinking HOOK!

Typewriter to Bookstore

Going to finally finish that manuscript this year? The Digital Marketing Team at Macmillan threw together this little video to enlighten us all on the next step....

A publishing story

03:37

Growing up moose.

Tara & Bella

Here's a happy story about a very odd couple:



Note: Video begins with a LOUD obnoxious 30 second commercialso, before starting the video, turn volume off.

Evening in León

Sometimes the camera does catch the mood of the moment. Or enough to remember it by. In any case, this is one of my favorites. And just to be clear, I did not tweek any of these photos, in any way. The light and colors appear exactly as they were, which really amazes me because they were so theatrical and painterly.

Evening in León - Nicaragua

It was one of four.

Bob Wilkins died today. :(


Nicaragua Leon evening street scene

Hand out

Mary Mungummory waits for her daily hand out at the kitchen door while inside Paloma the dog takes advantage of the distraction to search for scraps on the floor. But, in spite of this apparently homey scene at Monty's Surf Camp, Jiquilillo beach is no animal haven. There, as elsewhere in Centroamerica (and the world) injured, sick, starving, often homeless animals are not only systematically neglected, they are abused. As for the precocious Ms. Mungummory, I have no doubt that one day soon it will be her body roasting on the flame.

It is a bother to notice them. And it is an even bigger bother to actually do something to help one of them. Plus, everything excuses our indifference... poverty, religion, tradition... an indifference that is enshrined in the slag of specieism. But nothing makes it right.

Bird Park blues

Baby Woodstock, summer rescue
The first day of the new year still hangs in rear view mirror but soon it will fade from view like all the others. Today, outside my window, I watched a hawk capture a small bird and carry it off. The Bird Park used to be a refuge for the little guys but last summer was a tipping point and since then it's become a regular hunting ground for the scavengers. Even cats make the rounds. Life. Everyone's food for someone. Except for a few morning peanuts, I stopped putting out food for the big birds but, in the two weeks we've been home, it's clear the word is out.

Today, I feel like I'm on the downside of everything. I don't really like being back. I feel very isolated here but here we are. I know the mood will pass but the fact will not. Anyway, I've been adding a lot of photos to my Centroamerica album on flickr if you're interested.

New Year, 2009

Meet Sweet William, the newest member of the troupe. His origin is shrouded in mystery. All we know is that he crossed the snow-covered mountains of Montana and the vast desert region of the Great Basin to join us, a gift from my son and his lovely wife. No doubt about it. Sweet William is a charmer. Heartbreakingly sweet. Everyone loved him instantly, but tricky old Uncle Monkey had an apple up his sleeve and claimed the honors.

So...
here's to a saner, healthier,
more peaceful future for all
inhabitants of planet Earth
from all of us here at the
Language Barrier & Invisible Theatre.

Come on. Visualize Peace.

Quirky Christmas

Photos from the Petén region in Guatemala, gateway to the ruins of the great Mayan city of Tikal.

I was especially taken by the absurd beer tree perched on the highest point in Flores, the tiny island town where we stayed while visiting Tikal. This island was once the home of the Itza and the site one of the last independent Mayan kingdom, Tayasal. Naturally the Spanish eventually got around to destroying the place, along with the rest of the Mayan world, in the name of god and king. Then went broke.

Guatemalan snowman
where once the mighty Mayan Spaniard stood.

Winter Solstice

Winter solstice is one of my favorite times of year, a time to withdraw, review, recharge, and begin again. Wishing you a peaceful night and wonderful new beginnings on this, our longest night of the year. Cheers.

winter solstice poem poetry

The morning after

Yesterday at the LA airport when the US Customs Officer handed my passport back he smiled and said, "Welcome home". I very nearly shed a tear. If you know me, you know how rare that is unless I am watching a video about suffering animals or a smalchy dog food commercial. Not that I was desperate to get back. I wasn't. In fact, I'm really not even back yet. I am between worlds. Here and there. Last night I dreamt about Centroamerica, the people and places we came to know. The friends we made. The animals, the smoldering volcanoes, the Mayan world, ancient and today. The interesting, sometimes bizarre travelers sharing the road. The horrible (not)cobble stone streets of Antiqua and winchy sidewalks embellished with neck-breaking, jaw-crushing drop-offs and skull-bruising windows overhanging the narrow and wildy irregular passageways. Bar none, the sidewalks in Costa Rica take the tarta. They include sudden, unmarked holes deep enough that Mr. Lee, who is 6'3, could stand upright in some of them and disappear completely from view unless you happen to be standing right at the edge of one of these random and inexplicable gapes. I even miss them. They challenge my Attention Deficit Disorder by turning the simplest Sunday stroll into an adventure dangerous and thrilling enough to rival even the edgiest episode of Survivor. And the mossy, moldy, cracked and crumbling walls being ravaged by trees and sagging under creepers blooming up and over. I especially miss them and the lull of languages, like the language of birds, a welcome hiatus from too much information.

Already the conveniences and routines of life here are reclaiming me from that improvised, life-size, handmade reality that opens and closes like nocturnal flowers. Don't get me wrong. I am glad to be back. Certainly the good ol' EE. UU. (US en Español), is an amazing and wonderful place that I am fortunate to call home. And, yes, it is good to be back to my own language although, of course, we are both going to work on our Spanish every day because we are going back and anyway learning a new language is a good workout for the brain. Certainly traveling to and in Mesoamerica is a huge pain in the ass but the place has gotten in our blood. I don't want my world to be complete without all that chaos and mystery and color and, of course, the sweet empanadas we bought every Sunday from the nice woman who baked them then sold them out of the back of her station wagon while her family sat in the car and waited. And oh... those tasty pineapple tartelettes on special occasions. But this morning, in spite of the nostalgia, I managed to fill the feeders in the Bird Park. No one has discovered it yet but they will. Someone will do a fly-by and discover the payload. Oh yes.

All good things ...

We're home. After 24 hours and three planes, back over deserts and black water, over cities glittering like gold in the dark, after a night in LA, back over clouds and snowy mountains we're home and behind closed doors. It's like being in a dream, or a slow motion movie without sound. We're back in the quiet white house on the street of quiet houses far from the bruised flower crush and swirl of colors, languages, people, the humming streets, markets and parks, and soft voices whispering from the shadows.

Volcan Pacaya

The part we didn't get to. Photo by Issac
Antigua, Guatemala
I just read that volcan Pacaya first erupted 23,000 years ago but we just got there today and M. Lee griped the whole way up and down. This was his second visit and when the guide took us on the short cut instead of the loop trail it really pissed him off. The two of them even got into an argument at the crossroads (in Spanish) which was interesting in itself but to no avail. We missed the ridge view and best approach to the lava field however it didn't end there. On no. By the end of the hike, M. Lee had explained to everyone in the group what the guy had done so no one tipped him although he made a point of shaking all our hands so we could discretely slip him a little cash (which people are generally happy to do for a job well done). When that didn't work, he walked us to the van for a second good-bye. I didn't feel sorry for the guy. He earned it. When he wasn't playing the sport he spent a lot the time talking and texting on his phone. WTF?

Anyway, lava is incredible no matter what. A couple of people set their walking sticks on fire just because they could. The rest of us kept a little distance. It was shoe melting hot. Caliente. Muy muy caliente. Infierno. Hell hot. And dangerous. A sudden shift of direction and all bets would be off. We could see dual rivers of lava coming off the ridge (see photo). Unfortunately, because we had a lazy guide, we were not that high on the slope but hey... lava is lava. Where we were, it had slowed down cooling the surface so that a deathly hot tinkly gray ceramic partially covered the roiling fire flesh from which glowing eyes of flame appeared and disappeared and boulders rose up and broke free. In the hour or so we were there, the front advanced about 50 feet downhill and I suspect that when the guide lit his cigarette on one of the boulders, M. Lee hoped it would reduce his face into bubbly pizza. Just sayin'.

Tikal

Monkeys? Oh yes. Turns out we saw lots of monkeys at Tikal. Howler and Spider monkeys swinging around in the upper canopy, hanging by their tails, lounging on branches, grabbing and shaking tufts of leaves to get the tastiest ones. I could hear them biting and chewing. I could smell the fragrance of the leaves. And even though the zoom on my camera is nothing special, I think I got some cool photos but probably won't post them until after we get home next week. I'm still having connection problems.

There are signs around Tikal that say, "No moleste los animales (Do not bother the animals). There should also be signs that say, No moleste a los humanos. While we were sitting on the top of Temple V, a coatimundi (pizote as they are called in Guatemala) took a special fancy to the peanut butter sandwiches in M. Lee's backpack and was so persistent he even had fantasies of punting the little guy off the structure. That would have sucked. The day didn't start out all that well as it was. We caught the pre-dawn shuttle and along the way we encountered several animals in the road. The first was a mother hen and her chicks. The bus almost squashed them but M. Lee assured me they all got away. I heard them cheeping as we whizzed by. I was sitting in front and next we barreled around a corner and there in the headlights I saw a small white terrified dog cowering before the onrushing bus. He wasn't so lucky. A second later he disappeared beneath the bus and I felt the bump as one of the tires ran over him. It was wrenching. Not long after that, we came upon a band of horses sleeping in the road. One colt in particular was dozing with his nose just on the other side of the center line. I yelled, "Oh shit" as we roared by. I'm not sure the horse even woke up but we didn't hit him.

After the pizote on Temple V, I had my own "nature" experience with one. We were enjoying a mid-morning snack on the steps of another structure. I was feeding the birds, which is bad in itself, when the pizote showed up. Unknown to me there was a bit of a tamale in the side pocket of my backpack but he knew it was there. I was busy photographing him when he rushed me, grabbed my bag with his teeth and tried dragging it away. For a moment, he seemed to contemplate lunging at me but fortunately he didn't.

We spent two days at Tikal and in spite of the women tottering around the Grand Plaza in high heels and guys drinking beer in the shade of Temple of the Grand Jaguar, it was like I hoped, ancient and great, a Mayan metropolis lost and locked away for a thousand years and found in the mist buried beneath by the jungle. It was wonderful. We did our best to get off the beaten track and did. I'll tell you more later but right now, gotta go.

Yaxhá

Isla de Flores, Petén Basin, Guatemala
Today finally we saw monkeys. Monos. Howler and Spider monkeys. Wild. In the trees. Hopping around the forest canopy eating leaves and grooming themselves. And a coatimundi grooming herself on a branch. I did see a monkey in Nicaragua. It was sitting on the frame of a house but I only saw him from the window of a shuttle so M. Lee claims it doesn´t count but I say a monkey is a monkey. It counts. But today we saw lots of monkeys at Yaxhá, a Mayan site in the Petén. A little Yaxhá trivia: this site was the location for a series on the "reality" show Survivor. A group of hot model types spent a couple of months at Yaxhá battling to survive the cut. Anyway, it´s a huge site, some great pyramids and many many more not excavated. And, because Yaxhá gets far fewer visitor than nearby Tikal, it´s a lot easier to catch glimpses of wildlife including crocodiles as it´s built on a lake. No. We didn´t see any crocodiles but we were warned not to swim. Muy peligroso! Here´s a tip. You can stay at Yaxhá for free in their ecco village. It´s primitive. Hammocks (bring your own) under a thatch roof with mosquito netting but then you´d have a real chance of even seeing jaguars in the evening. Tomorrow Tikal will be crawling with humans so I doubt we´ll see much wildlife there but I am hoping for a few wild parrots because this is all the jungle time we get this trip. One can hope.

Bus to Tikal

Antigua, Guatemala
This evening we leave for Tikal which is north along the Beliz border in the Petén Basin. The bus leaves from Guatemala City at 10 pm. It's an 8 hour trip to the Island of Flores, jumping off place for the area. Can't say I'm looking forward to that but that is less than half the time it took going one way to Nicaragua so no problema. I could do it standing on my head. And this time I bought Dramamine. We're traveling on Auto Bus de Norte. It's considered a "luxury line", this in comparison to travel by chicken bus. I don't expect it to be luxurious, any more than the King Quality bus from hell, but "luxury" buses are safer in general and that is an issue.

When we hiked Cerro Negro in Nicaragua our guide, an American kid from LA, told us that the previous week he'd said good-bye to a friend of his, a young Dutch fellow and fellow volunteer at Quetzal Trekkers, who left for Guatemala on a chicken bus. Unfortunately for everyone involved, a gang of drug dealers hijacked the bus when it got to Guatemala, killed all 21 people on board, including his friend, beheaded one of the victims, drove the bus in a rival gang's territory and torched it. Chalk up another tragedy to the bullshit US "War on Drugs". Prohibition does not work. We should have learned that in the 20's during the alcohol prohibition. It's not a moral issue. It's the goddamn Bottom Line. Astronomical profit. How else are these gang members going to make millions? Not selling jewelery to the tourists. All drug prohibition does is feed the mafia and leave heartbreaking wreckage in its wake. Ok.

Enjoy your day. Hasta luego.

Saturday notes on the fly

Antigua, Guatemala
I hope you had a happy thanksgiving. We didn't do anything special here. It's no big deal in this part of the world, a fact I find very refreshing. We did, however, have treats. My pick... cheesecake but it turned out to be cloyingly sweet. So far the pastry in Centroamerica has been way too sweet for my taste. Babyland.

Our time is winding down here. We return to the states in about two weeks. Yikes! I'm not quite ready to go back into the box but, on the other hand, I look forward to seeing family over the holidays. There are a couple of things we still want to do before we go, visit Tikal and volcan Pacaya. We're planning to leave for Tikal at the beginning of the week. All in all, that trip will take about four days. And, before we return home, we want to climb Pacaya, a volcano just outside of Antigua. It's a short hike. M. Lee did it once already a couple of months ago but I was in school that day. Gotta see it. Lava pours right out of the earth and you can get as close as you want. If you´re a fire walker this is the place to be, or if you´ve ever wanted to roast a marshmallow over a volcano. Me? I just like lava and in Guatemala you can walk right up to it. This is a world that lawyers have not managed to strangle the life out of yet.

We did climb volcan Cerro Negro while were were in Nicaragua but I haven't gotten around to writing about that yet and so many other things. However, I did post some photos from Cerro Negro on Flickr if you're interested. There are more to come but now my camera isn't showing up on any computer. So it goes. I'll have to do a retrospective after I get home.

Other than that, last night some of my dreams were in Spanish. Oh, and I finally understand the answer to the age old question... Why did the chicken cross the road? Yes.

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.

Sunday aftermath

León, Nicaragua.
Today we are hanging out online. Suits me. There is a big FLSN parade streaming by the door as I write this and small bombs going off to whistles, shouts and the barking of dogs. The riot police are out enforce. Seeing them is small comfort. The elections did not go well last week so there is a lot of unrest throughout Nicaragua. Shit. One of our friends at La Tortuga is a Chilean fellow. He grew up with this crap and is very nervous today. It doesn't settle too well with me either. Things are raw here. Centroamerica is not a tidy place. Things are exaggerated, over blown, past ripe. Life is in the streets. Its wild beauty and grace have a corresponding shadow of chaos and despair.

Otherwise, I am melted to a sticky pile of sweat. Showers don´t help. A second later, I am again a sticky, sweaty blob. And I have become addicted to ice cream. So it goes now that the rainy season has finally ended. What was I thinking? Well, gotta go. Keep the home fires burning.

Chinandega

Chinandega, Nicaragua.... So today, back out into the current that flows past our quiet blue room at La Tortuga Booluda, back out onto the road leaving. A cab stops in the middle of the street. We throw our bags in and go. He takes us to the market where we grab a shuttle which takes us out to the highway, trash piled along the side, lined with blooming fence posts. We converge with trucks, bicycles, cars, foot traffic, hand-made carts pulled by half-dead horses... all moving together, a dark flow crossing the smelly gray river, one great hydra-headed body decorated with moons, stars, galaxies, universes moving... always in the same direction... to Chinandega, the hottest city in Nicaragua. Chinandega, where a hen and rooster are shackled together beside three women sitting at a table on the median strip in the road. Chinandega, where life is just a way of keeping the meat fresh until it's time to eat.