Nicaragua Trip
Justin Hall
Warning: This entry is LONGGGGGG!
Given the opportunity to conduct research with professor Dr. Ngo, in alliance with the UK/Nicaraguan based surfboard company Ocean Green Surfboards, I have also been given the opportunity to visit their manufacturing facility in the outskirts of Managua, Nicaragua, to assess OG’s manufacturing processes and production materials. My goal for this trip is to calculate OG’s carbon footprint and compare it to the manufacturing process that of traditional polyurethane surfboards. Ocean Green manufactures their boards out of light weight Balsa wood, organic cotton, and polyester resin (however they are always trying to change their material types to become as environmentally friendly as possible). I arrived in Managua on a Monday morning and was picked up by my contact Graham of the UK (however he’s lived, married, and had children in Nicaragua for a few years now). But before arriving in Managua on a red-eye flight from LA (which I had to drive up from San Diego to my Aunt Susan’s house, where then she thankfully gave me a ride to the airport), I had a layover in San Salvador, El Salvador. There I had my first reuniting of being surrounded by the Spanish language (after I had spent time in Guadalajara, Mexico). Before and after landing in San Salvador, I could see from the airplane window the land below. I saw nothing but green farmland and forest. I didn’t know what to expect, but I didn’t really expect the area below me to seem very undeveloped (which is a good thing). After arriving in Managua, it took me a while to get through customs simply because the lines were very long as I was the last to come out of the airplane.
After paying 100 Cordoba (5 US dollars) I was free to go. I got my bags and searched for my contact, Graham, who was to pick me up at the airport. I knew before I had arrived that I was to give a good first impression (no matter how tired I was from the flight). So, I sucked it up and after finding Graham, started having interesting conversations on the drive from the airport to the house I was to stay. Graham is a smaller slender British man from the UK who has lived in Nicaragua for over two years now (but had stayed in Nicaragua from time to time over the past 14 years). We talked about Nicaraguan culture, the economy, and the story of how he and a friend Stewart started Ocean Green Surfboards. The drive through Managua was nice. I was expecting to see extreme poverty and sketchy areas; however I didn’t see that at all. The drive reminded me of driving in the Philippines. The climate was warm and dry at this time of year leaving the roads dusty, air kind of dirty (in the city), and land very brown and dry. Regardless, the area seemed very interesting. There was a lot of flat land, volcanoes, a lake, and some mountains in the distance that I could see on the drive to the house where I was to stay.
Once I arrived to the house, I didn’t know what to expect. I met Senor Nicholas (Egda’s father). Even though he didn’t speak English, he was very nice in showing me my room. They owned a very nice house (for Nicaraguan standards) and I was to stay in one its largest rooms. Graham helped me translate some things, but as soon as I could set my stuff down we were off to the factory.
On our way to the factory Graham had described how the Nicaraguan government lets international business conduct “free trade” facilities in Nicaragua. Basically, “free trade facilities” are walled and barbed-wired places where international business employ local to do mostly manual labor. On the one hand, yes, these companies are supporting the local economy by employing its locals. However, on the other hand, these companies are exempt from Nicaraguan law regarding labor/wage laws, and probably (although I’m not 100% sure) environmental laws. Anyways, I was informed that OG Surfboards manufactured their boards in a facility shared by a family of other wood-working companies. When we arrived at the facility, we arrived at a walled area with a huge 15 ft tall iron gate. I was told that the compound use to be a “free trade” facility, but the wood-working companies had recently bought the property for their businesses and isn’t considered to be “free trade”.
After entering the facility we got right to work. I was introduced to employees both British and Nicaraguan (although I was barely able to communicate to the Nicaraguans because my Spanish had diminished since Guadalajara). The complex was huge, with at least 50 workers performing various carpentering tasks inside the warehouse. The place was filled with sawdust and nearly everybody wasn’t wearing any sort of mask or eye protection. I then asked Graham for basic information regarding their surfboard manufacturing, and started to map out each process. It is amazing to see chunks of Balsa wood come in and a beautiful, near flawless surfboard come out. I met the workers who were dedicated to the surfboard company. There were three.
Edgar was the one who I was able to communicate with the most (although he knew no English). Edgar was in charge of shaping the wooden blanks once they were cut into shape. Though he has never tried surfing before in his life, a professional Australian surfer had visited the facility some time before and trained Edgar for 3 weeks on how to shape a surfboard. Edgar is an amazing surfboard shaper. His job was to stand inside a small, enclosed room (7x14) and first jigsaw the board into shape, machine sand the board into a better shape, then by hand, shape and sand the rails of the surfboard to perfection. He performs this intense manual labor from 7am-4pm for 6 days a week. In total, he and everybody else are paid a whopping 300 dollars a month (15 dollars a day). Because he doesn’t own a car, he has to take a bus to and from work. And every month when they get paid, Graham told me they go crazy, get drunk for the next three days (to celebrate their earnings).
Side note: Because Graham currently doesn’t make nearly any money at all from selling these beautiful surfboards, I can accept the fact that these Nicaraguans get paid shit. His business is more of a project than a full scale, industrious operation. Gram admitted to me that he pays for petrol each month equivalent to what his employees get paid each month. However, that is the norm in Nicaragua. And, if it wasn’t for Graham, these carpenters wouldn’t have a job (which is the argument that many capitalists argue, which I don’t necessarily agree). Disregarding OG workers, there are many carpenters who are hired, who don’t have any opportunity to grow. They are forced to work in extreme conditions and get paid shit money for the rest of their lives. Could you imaging only making 300 dollars a month? Even in Nicaragua, one wouldn’t be able to pay for school, to buy a house, or to go on a vacation. There is something particularly strange about international companies coming to Nicaragua and using locals as their workforce, but maybe I’ll talk more about this later.
Anyways, after I learned about the surfboard manufacturing process and how complicated it could be (they brought in a CNC machine to help ‘hollow’ our planks of wood to make their boards lighter), we had lunch at a local restaurant. It was me, Graham, and Matt, a British guy and the co-owner of the whole wood-working facility. I had explained to Matt (who appeared like a very serious British business man compared to Graham who was a fun loving family man) my purpose of being in Nicaragua and what I hoped to gain from the trip. I learned later on that Matt had started the wood working business years ago after coming to Nicaragua as a carpenter, meeting locals, and started making small pieces of furniture. Now he controls a business who “manages” thousands of acres of tropical forests and farmland. Supposedly he performs “sustainable” farming methods and is FSC certified. However, from what I understand, they are able to cut down a certain amount of primary forests just as long as the amount that they had cut would “grow back” given a certain amount of time. I knew this was one of the driving forces of Global Warming, environmental damage, and wildlife endangerment. Driving through the dry and flat countryside that used to be covered completely with rainforest made me feel guilty for witnessing Matt’s company and the loads of wood they would process each day. However, I was comforted after Graham mentioned that Nicaragua is now very protective of its forests and require people like Matt to go through these mandatory requirements. Also I’d like to mention that Matt seemed to be a very nice and polite person. I know he cares about the environment. I’m just not sure he’s doing enough to make it better than when he approached a forest for the first time (other than worrying about maximizing profit and expanding his business).
After lunch and after I finished the rest of the day at the factory, Graham and I started back towards Managua to drop me off. We first picked up his son (half Nicaraguan, half British) who just finished his day at a primary private school. His son is a well educated, funny, and smart kid. He’s bilingual and knows a lot of Nicaraguan history.
Side Note: to understand Nicaragua as it is today, you must first understand the old dictatorship, the revolution, the ‘contra wars’, and the elections leading up to now.
After getting dropped off, I met my Senora Edga for the first time. She was very polite and greeted me like family. Thankfully, Edga spoke very broken English so I was able to communicate with her (half English, half Spanish). Her ‘helper’ Brenda cooked me a delicious meal of Steak, beans, rice, and fruit. I went to bed quickly because I was then extremely tired from the airplane ride. The next morning I was to be picked up at 7am by Graham, on his way of dropping his son at school, and then we’d go to the factory. I set my alarm at 6 (thinking Managua was 1hr ahead of San Diego). Edga woke me up at 6:50 verifying that Managua was actually 2hrs ahead of San Diego. I quickly apologized and ate a delicious breakfast in time before Graham had arrived.
After dropping his son off at school we headed back to the factory for a full day of work. On our way we talked more about the political system, the company, forestry, and Nicaragua in general. Graham was a very knowledgeable and kind person who seemed to care about Nicaraguans and their wellbeing. We talked about times he bribed police officers out of traffic violations and other crazy stories. Nicaragua is supposedly known for crime, mugging, etc. However, I saw nothing of the sort, and the areas where I traveled seemed safer than most places in Mexico. On our way to the factory I could see two amazing volcanoes. Momotombo was the largest and rested off of lake Managua. In front of me, there were 5 more awesome volcanoes that I wanted desperately to explore. Senor Nicholas had told me that recently, you are able to clime one of them and ‘sand board’ down it (kind of like sand boarding down dunes in Florence). Some day I am definitely going to return to Nicaragua and explore the different active volcanoes with whoever is willing/interested.
That day I spent most of the time learning more about the OG manufacturing process. I did some internet searches in hope of finding alternative resin for Graham to use that is more environmentally friendly. One thing I like about Graham and the OG surfboard team is that, no matter the monetary cost, they strive to make their boards as environmentally friendly as possible. Also, their second goal is to make them as affordable as possible. Right now they have worked prices down to about 1.5 that of traditional PU boards. However, the cost of labor, materials, and transportation adds up. We found a bio-resin made in California that may be a good alternative. However, hopefully the work that Dr. Ngo and I do will help him make decisions on what materials to use. Or, if he chooses to use new materials, hopefully we will be able to perform more experiments in the future for him. The rest of the day was long. We ate at the same delicious restaurant. And I finally got home around 4. I was so tired that I walked in to my room, crawled onto my bed and fell asleep. I didn’t get to greet Edga that night. However, I woke up in time for Brenda to cook me a delicious meal aha.
Wednesday, I had woken up on time. 6:00 was the perfect time for me to get ready, eat breakfast, and prepare my things for the day. The plan for the day was to stop at the factory for a few hours, then drive to a local farm/Finca (forest) where they perform sustainable tree farming. We dropped off Graham’s son at his private school then drove to the factory. On the way to the factory we had talked about Nicaraguan history and about their current president Daniel Ortega.
Once we got to the factory, I did the usual. I took more pictures of the OG manufacturing process. I observed how they apply resin onto the organic cotton sheets, onto the surfboard itself. I also tried to have a conversation with Edgar (the shaper). I asked Edgar if he went to school. He said yes. I asked him if he went to college. He said no. He told me he doesn’t have money for college (which is understandable given that he only is paid 300 dollars per month). However, he did go to carpenter school (or had a carpenter apprenticeship). However, being credited as a professional carpenter and surfboard shaper isn’t worth anything if you’re not paid nearly anything at all. But whose fault is that? It’s definitely not Grahams. I wouldn’t necessarily blame the government either.
After midday, we got lunch at the same awesome restaurant we went the day before. It was just a little shack of a restaurant located on the side of a random road in the middle of nowhere. I ordered frijoles, rice, chicken, plantains, and these awesome dessert ball things that are filled with a creamy center. Even though I got along well with Graham, I had just met him, and I felt every ‘awkward’ silence had to be broken with a question from me. There fore, as we headed towards the tree farm (la finca), I asked him more questions about the surrounding area, the chain of visible volcanoes (which some day I would love to come back and explore), local living, his business, and more politics.
We were so involved in conversation that our 4x4 Mitsubishi overshot the random turn on to a dirt road leading towards la finca. Once we managed to find the forest, we met up with the local care taker and he began to give us a tour. At first I was skeptical about farming trees, but now I’m more comfortable about the idea. It is much better than chopping down primary forest. However, the vast, flat, dry, and nearly empty region we were in was at one time (probably a hundred years ago) completely tropical forest. Regardless, their Forestry Stewardship Council certified tree farm was about 300 or so hectors (60 of which they were required to keep in is natural ‘tropical forest’ state. As we drove around the farm I could see domesticated deer running around a fenced in area. It was funny to see such an animal in the region, but I was told they are native to the area. Also, we passed by (as we did throughout the whole trip) a few ‘tattered’ children on horseback which reminded me that I was in Nicaragua. It reminded me of classic Mexico, or the Wild West. But this time it seemed more real. We continued to drive around the farm and it was my job to take notes and record the process of how they would harvest the balsa wood. It turns out they don’t chop every tree down at once (like the do in Oregon, where they clear cut primary forests and leave hillsides looking like bomb raids). They wait for each tree to reach a specific height and diameter, and then they chop it down. After a few months, they replant a new tree in place of the old, and the process starts all over again. These tree farms appeared to house many species of birds, insects, and animals. It looked like a very healthy environment not to mention all the CO2 it was probably absorbing.
After the tree farm we started our drive back towards the factory. We began talking about Nicaragua’s history and I remember a specific conversation we had. I had mentioned to him a book that I had read called A People’s History of the World. In it describes how many past revolutions were caused by working class people (the majority of the populations) becoming fed by the constraints that the ruling class had placed on them. I asked him how a working class (comprised of hard working, struggling, and sometimes suffering people), once in control after a revolution, could run any type of system if the majority is uneducated. Graham suggested that in Nicaragua’s case, during the Nicaraguan revolution, that the revolution was probably sparked by the ideas of educated intellectuals as well as the working class. I’m not sure whether he is right or not, or what the true answer to my question will ever be. However, Graham did tell me about his general likings about Socialism, how the UK has many socialist systems, and how Nicaragua has struggled to develop and maintain a socialist strategy. He told me about how the Sandinistas (socialist party) had implemented successful education systems in the country, provided many construction jobs, etc. Also, he informed me about the intense corruptness of the current government, and also of the other competing conservative and liberal parties. I conclude that you can only understand up to a certain extent. You can also always learn more or less about a subject, as well as be apt to judge an issue. However, the only way to ‘know’ what you truly think is to eat, sleep, and live in a place to know for sure. However however, sometimes that isn’t enough (e.g. living in the US can be very delusional).
Once we had gotten back to the factory, I played on my computer and waited for Graham to finish fixing some CNC problems. On our way home, we exited the factory doors and passed by the 50 or so workers waiting in line to board a broken down bus to go home. Graham had told me something that he was very upset about. Every day, the manual worker, the carpenter, the people who physically work their ass off in shitty conditions have to get searched before they boarded the bus to go home. However, 12 or so Nicaraguan desk workers don’t have to get checked and get to board the bus first (getting the best available seats on the bus). Graham told me that sometimes, he waits in line with the workers just to be fair and respectful, although it looks kind of funny.
That night Egda had prepared the best dinner for me. We ate outside on a nice dining table with herself, her husband, and her brother. I became more comfortable talking Spanish in front of them and actually was able to have easy conversations with them. As we drank wine, she offered that before I left she’d let me use her driver to take to a Volcan Masaya, Mercado Masaya, and Granada.
The next morning I woke up early once more and ate breakfast. This day was the beach day, and it was an amazing adventure. Graham had picked me up at 7 as usual; we dropped off his son at school, and drove to his out 30 minutes away. Graham is not the typical xpat who lives in Nicaragua. He lives outside of Managua in a very small mountain town. He lives with his Nicaraguan wife and son in a beautiful, large, but hidden house in a normal, quaint, Nicaraguan neighborhood. Graham couldn’t stress enough how if foreigners are to live here, they should be involved within the local community and not stick out like aliens. To me (and Graham said very crafty) this means not building houses that ‘show off’ or stick out, but blend in with local customs and culture. Preserving the local cultures to me, is the right thing to do. We drove 2 minutes past his house on a dusty dirt road to a piece of land that he owns. On this land he has about 5 different species of trees, mangoes, tangerines, avocadoes, coffee, peppers, and other edibles planted. He also has a great view of one of the many active volcanoes in the distance. After walking around we found his wife working away up on the hill. I met her and she seemed very nice. However, initially, they appeared as a strange couple. They just seemed like two very different people (one Nicaraguan and one British). Later on that day I realized they were a very happy couple, which I will explain in a sec.
We then started again towards our destination San Juan del Sol. We drove through the mountains, past 3 amazing little towns. I wanted to explore each of them but I hadn’t had enough time. We stopped at a store to by a Nim tree product that supposedly scares away leaf cutter ants as an organic insecticide. Graham wanted to try the product on his land. After returning to the road, we drove along the highway passing many huge mango trees and all different types of terrain. We were going at a steady pace until we got waved down by a police officer.
Obviously, he had targeted us because we looked foreign. I was previously told that you’re supposed to bribe the police everywhere if you want to stay out of time consuming and pointless troubles. He immediately asked for Graham’s driver’s license and papers so that if he were to write a citation, which they always do, they would keep it and turn it into the bank for Graham to go pick up later, and pay the fine. The man asked for my passport, and then started listing things (safety items) off that he was to search to see if Graham had in his car; such items were two triangles, a fire extinguisher, and a neon jacket. Because we only carried one triangle in the car (which is bullshit laws the cop made up), he told Graham our fine would cost 800 Cordoba… “but he (the cop) wouldn’t make us pay that much”… hence initiating the bribe. Graham warned me about this. You always end up bribing police, however, you don’t want to be the bribe initiator or bribe him in a fast manner because the police would feel ‘insulted.’ Like the cop would think “What?! You think I’m one to be bribed”… That is why Graham played the game, or tried to play the game. In attempt to get off for free, he started friending the guy by talking about the mango tree next to us, and where we were going, and what we were to do that day. The guy didn’t care. And after he initiated the bribe, we offered to pay him 100 cordoba. He wanted twice that, but he finally settled for 100. We then got on our way in hope of not running into anymore police.
The beautiful drive started up again. We drove many miles south towards the boarder of Costa Rica and turned right onto a dirt road. Reminding me of the Philippines once again, this dirt road was surrounded by open country with the occasional Nicaraguan house lined up on a dirt plot of land. There would be kids riding horses and men rounding up their cow herds. Occasionally there would be really messed up parts of the road or construction parts what were really sketchy to drive over. There is no way a normal car could pass through, so I thought, every once in a while (when we passed a car) there was a small sedan driving along. Graham would explain to me how his family would usually do this trip on the weekends at least 2 or 3 times a month. Drive to the beach, stay in a cottage or bungalow, surf, play guitar, and such. Our first destination near the coast was to stop and check out Graham’s friend’s house that was being built on a hill overlooking the ocean. To get there we had to tackle more dry, steep, and broken up roads only accessible by a 4x4. The house being built was designed by Matthew, who is known for designing eco-friendly houses that blend into the environment. One of the finished items of the house was the amazing infinity swimming pool that overlooked the ocean. I felt guilty watching the workers slave away, building this house for a rich British person who will only use the thing 2 or 3 times a year. Also, none of those construction workers would EVER get the chance to stay and/or own something like they were building. Situations like that are carried out everywhere in the world. Whether its right or wrong I’m not sure. After all the Nicaraguans were employed and getting some sort of pay. But it just doesn’t feel normal.
Afterwards we drove towards more eco-friendly houses that Matthew had built on a development on a hill next to the coast. The entrance was lined up with a few huge treese that are known to expand off of their own hanging vines. Again, they were far off the beaten path. I don’t know how long it will take until this place gets recognized as a tourist trap, but some day it definitely will. We drove around the complex and spotted ‘howler’ monkeys lounging in the tropical forest’s trees. We also spotted the most colorful birds.
Next we made our way towards San Juan del Sur. This was the most ‘touristy’ surf town in Nicaragua. Driving in you could see the oddly large and out of place x-pat homes scattered across the hill (another thing Graham was telling me about. It’s not that he dislikes foreigners moving in, it’s the boastful attitude they have when they’re here. He told me a story of when he overheard an American calling up multiple friends and telling them how cool his house was in some local coffee shop. Over and over again he called more and more people telling them the same thing as if Nicaragua was his playground which he could do what ever he wanted… a little disrespectful if you ask me.
Carrying on, we parked the car in San Juan del Sur and walked around the small beach town. I could see Costa Rica in the distance and wondered how many more tourists and spring breakers were over there. In the town were restaurants, hostels, and some surf shops (however the beach in front of the town is not surfable). We stopped at one of the surf shops where Graham’s boards were being rented to tourists. We picked up an 8ft board for me (Graham had his own) and then walked to an American owned coffee shop called El Gato Negro (The Black Cat). I liked how they kept the name in Spanish. It was also a really cool bohemian style bookstore/eatery. I broke my vegetarian pact as soon as I arrived in Nicaragua, and there I ate a delicious French toast style turkey sandwich. We also had fresh limonada. By the way, the juices I drank in Managua (at the house) and on the road were 100% freshly squeezed. Whether it is mandarine, mango, limon, or orange, they were all hand squeezed, no sugar, color, or water added. At the coffee shop we ate and talked a little business. Graham asked me to give suggestions about how to make his manufacturing process more efficient. I stated listing off ideas that popped into my head, just little simple things that I thought wouldn’t hurt to do, that would theoretically make the production flow smoother. For example, I suggested that he pre-fill and color code different containers for each board size.
After eating we drove to the local surfing beach Maderas. This was the most popular beach, but because of the uncommon wind and small waves, we had no other choice. Nicaragua has great surf up and down the coast (for most of the year). Its great because the onshore wind helps form the waves great. And most of the time there is hardly any wind at all. But, because I brought shitty conditions from San Diego, we ended up surfing shitty conditions. The beach was nothing too special. There was a shack for food and some type of surfer hang out area. The waves were closing out most of the time and I struggled to paddle out (being out of shape) because of the huge wooden board that I was using. After a couple hours of being thrown around, loosing a fin, and getting a little slice in the board, I called it quits and chilled on the beach. I watched the local Nicaraguan kids surf for a while. After packing up, we headed back to San Juan del Sur, dropped off the board and talked to the owner of the rental shop that Graham new. He didn’t make us pay for the rental because it was “Graham’s board”, but we insisted to pay the 12 dollars to fix the repair. I handed him what I thought was 12 dollars but it turned out to be only 6 (I miscalculated the exchange rate. 1 US dollar equaled about 21 or 20 Nicaraguan Cordobas). The owner of the shop was named Dave. He was a 27/28 years old American who came down to Nicaragua to volunteer, fell in love and opened up the surfshop.
On our drive back Graham explained to me Dave’s situation. He makes just enough money to get-by, however it’s only just enough. He loves his lifestyle and never wants to stop doing what he does. However, Dave has also been thinking about his future and how he would support himself when he is older, gets married, has children, buys a house etc. Dave’s dilemma is one that freaks like minded people out all the time. Also, if and when he needs to return to the US, even though he is a smart guy, what would he do to support himself? Would he have to jump into the bottom of the corporate chain and try to work his way up (after already having a late start). I bet that thought has crossed his mind. However, I bet he doesn’t regret living in Nicaragua, learning Spanish, and living his current life either.
We took a longer route, but a paved route back to Graham’s place. The intention was for me to stay at his house that night and then drop me off in Managua at Edga’s house the next morning before dropping his son off at school. The drive back was beautiful. We drove along Lake Nicaragua for a while. I could see the two amazing volcanoes on my right that stood on an island in the lake. Driving further we passed another amazing volcano, and then I spotted another in the distance. The sun was setting which made the sky look beautiful and the view to my left looked amazing as well. I remember passing by two hoses mating. I grabbed my camera and was able to take the shot haha. After talking about more Nicaraguan history and politics, I decided to bring up a question that I’ve been meaning to ask him this whole trip. I ask if he or anybody he knew had any connections for entry level positions in Europe. I thought that Graham being from the UK would have all sorts of connections. After explaining to him my degree, he explained to me what he thought. He’s been in Nicaragua for over two years now and hasn’t been around UK business much. He explained that he would try to help me out, but he didn’t know anybody at the moment that would be in need of a graduate. One thing he said he’d do is ask his manufacturing clients of the other business he runs (IT business) in the UK.
We then talked about his story and a path/options that I should consider taking. He explained to me his views on the academia world (his father’s a professor) and how he thinks professors have it way easy, yet they know nothing about the working world and they only teach about theoretical situations. However, he admires those who work, gain practical skills, and then go into teaching. I then silently brainstormed ideas for my life. I came up with a little plan (that could easily change): After graduation I am to go to Europe for 6 weeks. Afterwards, I would hang around Oregon and catch up with old friends for a while. Next, I am going to try and get a non-permanent engineering internship so that I can save money for my next travel adventures. This fall I intend to take the GRE and apply for engineering graduate schools. Once accepted I will ask to defer my enrollment and volunteer in a Spanish speaking country. After volunteering for a year or so, I will enter graduate school and start brainstorming for new plans. I feel that plan is the best I can think of at the moment. As for now, I’m solely concentrating on my schoolwork and graduating on time.
We finally arrived in the dark at Graham’s house. His wife came out and we all decided that we were to get pizza for dinner. The pizza place was conveniently located next to Egda’s house so we decided it’d be best that they just drop me off there afterwards. The drive to the pizza place was interesting. Graham’s Nicaraguan wife (Marta) was a crazy driver. She would curse at other drivers and act totally independent. It was funny watching Graham trying to help her make driving decisions, but she wouldn’t listen and act independently. Marta and I split a vegetarian pizza (which was delicious) and Calvin and Graham split a ham pizza. A poor young girl walked up to our table and asked for money (her mother was watching at a distance).
I realized something. Even though she was trained to beg, and usually in these situations people (even I) don’t usually give into beggars, Graham reached to his pocked and gave her a few coins. I realized that it was the right thing to do. Every time we were stopped at a stop light and people started to clean the windshield, Graham gave those tips. People don’t beg for fun. They do it because that’s all they can do at that moment. Everybody has a story and I’m willing to bet that most of these people aren’t lazy. They’re just going through hard times. And because no human being could live in a society with out the direct or indirect interaction of others, we depend on each other, therefore we should help those who are in need. After Graham gave her the money she moved over to my side of the table and sat down behind me. She started coughing (to get my attention) and sat there for about 5 minutes. I didn’t know what to do in front of Graham’s family and the girl so I did nothing. Graham paid for the meal.
The drive home was funny, again, watching Graham warn his wife about her driving, and she not listening. We stopped at an up-scale grocery store where I bought some coffee (recommended by Graham as the best coffee in Nicaragua) and Nicaraguan Rum (which I found out to be both strong and delicious). Later, we arrived at Egda’s house and my goodbye was brief. Everybody was tired and I said my farewell to Graham and his family. It was amazing meeting him and learning about his lifestyle in Nicaragua. A few hours later I realized I had left my cheap, but favorite pair of sunglasses that I got in Australia on the dashboard of their car. Oh well, part of life is learning how to let go of things you love, grow from the experience, and move on. Nothing is permanent.
The next morning I had slept in to 8am. Brenda had breakfast ready for me and Nicolas, and Nicolas’ brother were waiting for me at the table. I had another wonderful breakfast with hand squeezed manderina juice. Egda had loaned me her driver for the day, and at the breakfast table we had discussed where I was to visit/sightsee for the day until my flight at 5:40pm. The plan was this; first I was to drive to the colonial city of Granada (45 min away), next I would go to the arts and craft Market in Masaya (on the way back from Granada). Then, I would go to the active Volcan Masaya where it is possible to drive to the rim.
I met my driver named Guiermo. He was a skinny, funny young man who didn’t speank any English. The drive started out quite, but I was compelled to talk Spanish to him and break the silence. I learned that he has a wife 3 children. Working as a fulltime driver/helper for Egda, I have no idea how he is able to fund or have time to spend with his family. We drove towards Granada in Edga’s Toyota Hilux. It was a smoother ride than Graham’s Mitsubishi 4x4. On the way I could see FSNL spray painted on the walls and telephone poles on the sides of the street. (If I didn’t mention it above, Nicaragua is having another election, and the current president of the FSLN Daniel Ortega had changed the constitution to run again… even though he is liked, his actions seem anti-democratic).
As we drove closer to the city center of Granada, I felt like I was in Spain. All the roofs were made of tile. There were old cathedrals standing above all the smaller buildings. We parked next to and entered one. There, I paid 3 dollars and walked through the Cathedral’s museum. This particular cathedral was built during the late 1500s by the Spanish conquistadors. We then walked around the city, through the city center and ‘plaza’ where I bought some Nicaraguan crafted cigaros for dad and myself. I felt like I was in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. The town was very nice and festive and it was here where I saw the first tourists in Nicaragua. In fact, there were ‘western’ tourists everywhere, young and old. There were also American owned coffee shops and other businesses catered towards tourists. After walking around and taking a few pictures, I bought some local fruit and headed back towards the car. We drove towards Lake Nicaragua (Granada rests on its shore). There was a local park for children that we entered and had a couple Tona’s (Nicaraguan beer) while we finished our fruit.
Next we drove towards Masaya’s ‘famous’ arts and craft market. I was told that this town was famous for its hammocks and its art. Guiermo took me to a local hammock shop off the beaten path. I bought a cool colorful ‘chair hammock’ that hangs from above. Masaya was small town that had a market positioned in the middle of an old, walled colonial area. After walking through the market, I spotted a painting of a Sandanista revolutionary that I was drawn too. I walked to a couple of ATM’s and pulled out money from which ever one that work to pay for the painting (after bargaining with the shop owner). I told myself that I was done shopping. That day I had bought cigars, a hammock, and a painting; just what I was looking for.
After Masaya, we drove 10-15 minutes to Volcan Masaya. We paid an entrance fee (which cost more for tourists/visitors) and started driving up towards the crater. I could see the solidified lava flows that have occurred throughout the years which surrounded us. I could also see the sulfur ahead of us which was coming out of the volcano’s center. Once reaching the volcano’s rim, we got out and took pictures. It smelled like strong sulfur. I walked to the edge of the crater against the wall which prevented people from falling hundreds of feet into the pit. I could only see the rise of white smoke that was coming from below. I was told that not long ago there was a minor eruption where lava actually spewed up halfway up the crater, but then fell back into the crater never leaving the rim of the volcano. I looked to my right and saw a cross perched on a higher area of the crater on the top of a huge flight of some stairs. I read later on that the original Spanish invaders thought Volcan Masaya was part of the devil and a gate to hell; therefore they planted a cross at its rim during one of its eruptions. I climbed up to see the cross (though not the same cross as colonial times). Guiermo followed me as he struggled to make it up the long flight of stairs. At the top I could see a 360 degree view around the volcano and the baron land it had created around it. There were also people in blue uniforms who climbed to the top with me. I assume they were part of Nicaragua’s corrupt police force, but they didn’t look very fit or healthy to be police. Regardless, they were nice people and seemed very interested of me (a foreigner) for being at Volcan Masaya. They started to take a bunch of photos and asked me to be in it. There were about 12 of them. I then got a shot with my camera of the group. One of the guys seemed like he had never met an American before and was asking me all sorts of questions in Spanish. I couldn’t understand him very well because of his crazy fast accent and strange Nicaraguan dialect. Over all it was a fun visit. After visiting the crater, we drove down a bit and visited the museum/information center, which was very interesting (it had explanations about all the different volcanoes in Nicaragua) and had a nice view of a small lake.
The places I visited that day were amazing and were all new to me. However, it had been a long week and I was very tired. I got back to the house around 1:30, packed all my stuff and waited to be driven to the airport. Egda had left the house and I was unable to say goodbye in person to here. Nicolas drove with me to the airport (along side Guiermo), but he didn’t say much and appeared to be sleeping on the car ride. Awkwardness aside, I knew that Egda and Nicolas enjoyed my stay and received my thanks. I was dropped off, checked in, and started waiting for my flight. There I saw younger, white college students that appeared to be coming back from some time of Christian service trip. I didn’t bother to talk to them. On the plane ride to our layover in San Salvador, their loud American voices stood out. The winy Nicaraguan baby next to me was less annoying than others on that flight…. After a shaky landing in San Salvador, I got on a plane headed to Los Angeles.
After landing in LA at around 11:30pm, Aunt Susan picked me up, I left her house headed towards San Diego at around 12:30am, got home at around 2:30am, and woke up at 5:00am to get SCUBA certified. Was probably one of the most draining traveling times I’ve spent… but it was ALL worth it. Until the next adventure, peace.
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