WARNING: LONG ENTRY AND SHAMELESS SELFIES.
I bought my ticket to Nicaragua 10 days before I was set to leave. Within those ten days I had to get my employment in order, run errands, prepare for my trip, go to Coachella, and happened to notice that in my favorite episode of Bob's Burgers, a white-trash character walks into detention saying, in his southern-hick voice: "Can't believe they don't let you wrestle in the locker room. What is this, Nicaragua?!" and that became the catch phrase of my life during my trip!
On Tuesday, April 15, my mother made it to pick me up at 4:30am to take me to LAX. We made it in good time, checked me in, then I went through security. Being that early, it really wasn't too bad at all as far as crowds and security, and I don't remember much of it... I just went straight to sleep. I had a two hour layover in Atlanta, where I realized I had left my phone charger at home, and it was going to be my camera, so I had to buy a ridiculously overpriced one in the airport. I cried about it into my Panda Express while I waited for my flight.
My flights were all seamless: on time, easy, no issues. It was wonderful. I landed in Managua with the sun already set, and was surprised at the tiny, debunked little airport. It has been so long since I traveled internationally, especially to a third world country. I had forgotten I was in Nicaragua. In going through customs, I saw people pulling out money, and I was really confused. What are they buying? When it was my turn, I was happy to understand "dias dolars" and knew I needed to pay $10US (their currency is the cordoba, so he definitely meant American money) and later learned this was the airport tax. I was just lucky I had that cash on me... I wish someone would have warned me!
I was going to Granada first, which was about an hour drive, and I had arranged a transfer with my hostel. I found the guy holding my name, and when he took me past all the passenger vans and shuttles and to his own little broke down Nissan, I wondered if this was how human trafficking started... but I survived. No AC, so the windows were rolled down and it was a beautiful drive. Clear night, loud insect and bird sounds coming from the flora, hot and humid, and tons of soccer games going on by moonlight in random fields. I couldn't think of any Spanish, and my driver clearly knew no English, so we just rode on in silence, except for his occasional introduction of the city we would come into. We got to the hostel and I was able to do some greetings in Spanish, but the guy offered to switch to English and I readily accepted, haha.
I LOVED my hostel. OMG LOVELOVELOVELOVE. It was beautiful. I love the Central America architecture anyway, colorful, and you usually just walk in one room and then are welcomed into a huge lush courtyard... everywhere I went and saw was set up like this. The hostel was beautiful and well-kept, and it had a café, a bar, hammocks, lounge chairs... the works. The beds were incredible... I had a queen sized bed with one of the best mattresses I've slept on in a long time. I felt like I was sleeping outside, all the windows and doors were kept open because of how hot and humid it was, fans were going (each bed had their own fan with it), everyone was sleeping in bathing suits and underwear without shame, the walls were colorful, and I saw lizards scurrying along the walls sometimes. I loved it!!
I immediately set stuff down, put a few things in my locker, bought a Nicaragua Victoria beer and sat in the chair in the hot night. I made a few friends, including a Spanish guy working in Costa Rica but taking a vacation in Nicaragua.
First thing in the morning I woke up and ordered a coffee and small breakfast from the café. I did this by utilizing the translator app on my phone and so started to learn Spanish as I went. I got a map of the city and tried my hardest to understand what the man was saying as he drew different routes and circled some places and saying "
no racommendo" and I think I did okay. I then set off for a full day of sight-seeing and shopping.
I started out in the Central Park. I was in awe. I immediately felt like I was in Adventure Land at Disneyland, or on the Jungle Cruise or something. It was hot and humid. The plants were green and colorful, the sounds coming from them were beautiful, exotic bird calls and chirps constantly and a hum and buzz from insects. Restaurants were operating, people were shouting out as they walked through selling things, horses clip-clopped on the cobblestone streets, and the buildings were so bright!
I walked to a church that had the highest peak and view of Granada in the city. They were getting ready for Easter which was kinda cool to see. I love that there's no AC. Just plants everywhere, open doors and fans blowing. When I bought a ticket (aka like 10 American cents) to go up the steeple, I also bought a small rope bracelet with wooden bracelets. After point to the case, I was able to say "con las rosas" and therein began my confidence in Spanish. I have no grammar at all, but as I go along, I'm always surprised at how much vocabulary I have.
After the church, I wandered along the streets, sat in a park, and went to their markets, which suddenly brought Guatemala screaming back. They have these markets where vendors are so packed together that you feel like you are indoors, and then a lot of them are crammed under canopies or roofs, but the vendors are so squeezed together there's only room for one person in an aisle, and there are lots of fresh cooked meats to eat on the spot too.
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| At the plaza place where I ate, came across a bar packed with people watching the Nicaragua soccer game |
Embarrassing Story Alert! On the way winding through some of the shops along the streets, I stopped into a clothing store with a lot of what looked like locally made clothes. I was trying to decide between two dresses, one maxi dress in a Tiffany blue color, another shorter one in a fading purple with a wooden tie, and kept holding them up to myself to see how they would fit or if I preferred one. Eventually I took both of them to the dressing room, only to have a woman shout at the girl helping me who told me "this is not dress" to the smaller purple one. Apparently it was a skirt... ha! And instead of just letting me know and now continue to try it on, they just put it back. At least it made my decision easy.
After exploring, I went back to the hostel for a little while to relax. (My feet still hadn't recovered from Coachella.) I ended up suntanning on a lounge chair in the back with Game of Thrones and then taking a nap. It was wonderful.
When I woke up, I was ready for more, so I got dressed and this time walked to Lago Nicaragua, the largest lake in Central America, maybe more, I forget. It was a cool walk! I walked along La Calzada, which was the main drag for bars and restaurants, with the latin music blaring and people dancing in the streets with beers.
When I got back, I signed up for a tour the next morning to see a nearby town called Masaya, including hiking the Volcan Masaya (most active volcano in Central America), to see some more lagos and handicraft shops, etc. Before I went to bed I had made friends with a sweet German girl, also working in Costa Rica but on a break, who was sleeping in the bed next to me. In the morning, she and I had breakfast together, some really good Nicaraguan breakfast, some sort of meant and peppers in tortilla-type rolls. The coffee, by the way, was amazing. So strong and smooth and rich, I wanted absolutely no creamer. It was heaven. My German friend was going to Isla Ometope and I was going on my excursion, so we exchanged numbers and said our goodbyes.
The other group on my excursion trip was a group of Belgians, who spoke Flemish, and not French, so I didn't get to practice French, oh wellsies. They were really nice, but as them being the only other ones, it was often them off exploring, and me hanging out with our tour guide, who was a Nicaraguan local about my age who was really nice! Thanks to him offering, I was able to get a few non-selfies! The crazy part was during the drive, the driver would tell us about the sites or places we were passing, in Spanish to the one Belgian girl who spoke Spanish. She would then translate for her group into Flemish, and the girl sitting in the van in the back with me would then translate for me from Flemish to English. Crazy, right? I wonder how much of it was lost in translation. Like maybe I got "it's the most active volcano in Central America" but really they're saying "we have to sacrifice one of us to the volcano and we chose you" and here I am saying "Oh wow! That's cool." You never know!
Before we enter, we are briefed on the volcano and exit strategies because it could erupt at any moment. That's how active it is! A lot of the grounds were closed because of their recent earthquakes, but we still got to hike to the mouth of it, and I was actually shocked to see all the gases coming out from it! You could look down but not see far, it was just a smoky abyss, but so crazy to be there! We also saw wild monkeys on the grounds around it.
After that we went to the lago and got to shop around, because Masaya is known for handicrafts, then eat at a local restaurant. I HATE pictures of food, but if you're in another country, it doesn't count, right? It was fried plantains with fried meats and cheeses on top. I loved it!
After this we got to visit a local place that made most of the pottery for the area. It was pretty much just their home with a manual ceramic wheel and home-made brick kiln. They showed us the entire process though, kneading clay with their feet, shaping it on the wheel, scratching it clean with some nuts that fall from the nearby trees, firing it in the kiln, and then etching designs onto it. They also had a pet toucan!
Embarrassing Story Alert! As we were looking around at their finished products that we could buy, I started to feel the meat from lunch not sitting well... and it was happening fast. It came to the point where I knew that I would not be able to wait until we were back at the hostel, so I had to ask our tour guide if he could ask these people if I could use their restroom. They were very welcoming and led me to their restroom, which was just an outhouse (although there was an operable toilet) but no light, and no toilet paper. No toilet paper. I went through my purse and all I had of value in this situation was the pack of gum my mom gave me when she dropped me off at the airport. So, I threw like five sticks in my mouth and wiped with five gum wrappers. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do!
We got back pretty late, and I was leaving in the morning for Managua, so I hung around the hostel, talking with people, lounging, reading, drinking the $1.25 cocktails and downing $1 beers. I loved the courtyard and outdoor air and was just happy as a clam. So happy, that I was very sad to leave in the morning. I had even extended my time there by a day, after talking to most everyone who had gone through Managua and told me how dirty it was and how there was really nothing to see there. Oh well.
In the morning I had my coffee and breakfast, packed up, said my goodbyes, and walked through the central park to the "bus terminal". They just shout out the cities they're going to, get you on board, and wait until the bus is full before they leave. I was one of the last ones and didn't have to wait long. I noticed a woman selling stuff and had bottled water, so I ran off the bus quickly to buy a bottled water. I got back to my seat and was struggling to open it for so long, that even a quick wondering glance at the guy next to me, he just reached his hand out and opened it for me.
The ride to Managua was about an hour, and by the way, costs $1, which is more expensive than the normal $0.50, because I took a microbus, which was a little nicer, it was like a charter bus. I should have gotten a ride in a pickup, cause it looks so fun to just pile in the back like they do. Why can't we do that here? We live in such a kindergarten country! At stoplights, people on the corners would rush on and sell tamales and empanadas and bananas and drinks. It was cool.
We were still parking in the Managua bus terminal when a taxi driver was rushing the windows and asking me if I wanted a taxi. I say me, because I was (and had been) noticeably white, and noticeably the only white person on the bus. Aside from being in the hostel, I was very aware of standing out in the cities, because tourists were not plentiful. He took me to my hostel in Managua, which was pretty awesome as well. A pool, hammocks, café, two living rooms, a huge property with kitchens and courtyards and the works. It wasn't as pretty or as clean, but that's also the city in general.
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| This was my fancy taxi |
I WILL HAVE YOU ALL KNOW! After I checked in, I went back to the front to buy a bottled water. It was a new guy, and I came to him and said something like "quiero un agua, por favor" or whatever I had gotten accustomed to, he told me how many cordobas, I paid him, and then he started rambling on and on in Spanish. I said "ummm... sorry?" and he said "Oh what? You don't speak Spanish?" and I said "No, you pretty much just saw all of it" and he said "Oh my gosh, I thought you spoke Spanish! You just came up here all confidently and sounded like you knew it!" and I couldn't have been more proud of myself! I will always ask for a water in Spanish now, wherever I go! (Haha, kidding).
I relaxed, read poolside, and had a beer and water, and gathered my strength for Managua sightseeing! I left on foot, trying to make it to the lake's boardwalk, but soon found I was completely lost. I did happen across this church though (on Good Friday) so it was active and interesting.
My God is that city dirty. I was baffled. It's just a huge litter box (haha) of just trash. It's like someone took all the trash cans in the world and just overturned them in Managua. It just littered the streets, sidewalks, fields, grass, gutters... everything.
Eventually, because of how freakin' hot it was and how bad my feet hurt, I just took a cab to the Puerto Salvador, and was pleasantly surprised! It was beautifully situation on the Lago de Managua, and very colorful!
I stayed here for awhile, had a pina colada, and then eventually walked back the way I came, stopping in at sites I noticed on the way there in the taxi, such as the national theatre and national garden.
Embarrassing Story Alert! I was told I should visit Lago de Tiscapa. No matter what I did, who I asked, or how many times, I could not find that damn place! It got to the point where I was wandering into residential areas alone and getting honks/calls/whistles from literally EVERYONE, that I felt uncomfortable and just turned around. I came across some national museum or something, so I wandered into it. There were old cannons and stories of Nicaragua's progression and navy and stuff. I passed a guard at one time who jabbered on in Spanish and pointed one way, and I said "daccuerdo" but just walked up this huge staircase lined with old cannons that seemed like it had a pretty bitching view from the top. I had gotten up the first staircase when I hear whistle and the guard frantically waving at me to come down. Apparently... I was wandering up towards the president's mansion or something, and you're really not allowed up there. Oops.
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| Here is the picture I took while being escorted down the stairs |
I was exhausted by the time the sun was setting, so I took a cab back to the hostel, made some friends, then read in a hammock. It was my last night, I had a lot of cordobas left over, and was hungry, and didn't just want street food or processed food from a market, so I asked the guy at reception for some restaurant recommendations. He pointed out quite a few, letting me know that many places were closed because of the recent earthquake, since the country had been on Extreme Red Alert since April 10th, and since it was nighttime, in Managua, I asked "It's okay to go walking out alone right now, right?" and this was his response: he hesitated, he looked to the side, thought about it, and then said "Well I mean, if something's going to happen it's going to happen" I just laughed. He was right, after all.
The places he recommended were all closed, but I found a neat little Nicaraguan restaurant close by, and by the way, this place was "expensive" and I got one of the choicest cuts of meat, and beer, and it was something like $10US total. Talk about how fortunate we are as Americans!
I went back, and hung out with some of the people at the hostel, who had bought food and were having their own barbecue. I hung out in the living room with an Irish girl who had gotten so destroyed by mosquitos it looked like she had a skin disease, and then eventually I went to bed, somewhat early, but I did have to get up at 4:00am to leave by 4:30am to get to the airport by 5:00am for my 7:00am flight home.
Once again, completely seamless and easy flights, and once again I pretty much just slept through the entire process. My customs officer in Atlanta was not friendly in the least, which was sad, because I love traveling internationally and the way they say "welcome home!" after inspecting your passport and letting you through.
Back in LA, I had told my friend, who loves hanging out in Hollywood (and I am not a huge fan) that I would buy him a drink in Hollywood if he would pick me up from the airport. It was a deal, but there must have been miscommunication somewhere, because he brought his friends and we ended up at the Roosevelt Hotel and then barhopping all over the place. I was falling asleep on the back patio of a small dive bar talking to a girl celebrating her 30th birthday there and wearing a fairy costume when everyone finally decided to leave.
And I was dropped off at home and sad that my vacation was over. I want to travel moreeee! What is this, Nicaragua?!
