León to Masaya

Getting from León to Masaya meant booking a shuttle, which we did with Terra Tours. For a 2 hour ride, the trip cost us $12 each. We were lucky that the front seats were vacant, so we didn’t have to squeeze in the back, but we were still a bit cramped. Having the A/C blasting on us was a bonus.

We were told the shuttle would not take us directly to the hotel, but to a gas station from which we would need to take a taxi. Uncertain of the logistics of this, we held our breath. As luck would have it, we arrived at the gas station at the precise moment a taxi was dropping off passengers. The driver ran out to grab him for us and gave him directions. The ride was $2.

Our accommodation, Casa Robleto was fantastic. As one enters, a large salon runs the horizontal length of the building. The high ceilings and great depth allow the heavy wooden furniture pieces to envelop the space without making the room feel crowded. Rocking chairs, being a cultural custom of the country were present. They and another loveseat that did not rock were created in an amazing fashion combining hand carved wood with intricate caning designs.

Beyond this room is an immense space. The perimeter is covered, but the center holds a garden that is open to the sky. One section holds a pool table and more rockers. Along the right hand wall are the doors to the bedrooms, while at the back of the area, there is the open dining room to the right and the kitchen to the left. This sense of openness has been the most exciting feature of the Nicaraguan home architecture. When you don’t need to worry about hail, snow, or sleet, or freezing temperatures, there is a great freedom in design.
Our room had a bed that was beyond king sized. It could have slept a party of four and still had room to roam. The rest of the room still had plenty of floor space, relieving any sense of potential claustrophobia. The staff was more than friendly. Then it was time to see what the town was like.

Walking to the central square, we were thrilled to see the streets were well maintained, as were the sidewalks. There were no gaps or huge holes to lose a foot in if not paying attention. In addition, the square, though housing the mandated Catholic Church that had seen better days, there were hundreds of families utilizing the park for social activities. Temporary and permanent amusements were filling children’s dreams and helping to deplete their energy. Vendors were selling a variety of foods, drinks, and shaved ices.

Restaurants and other businesses placed around the square seemed to be flourishing. The word charming kept creeping into my mind. I was happy we were here and joyful it was better than León.

What did not get my vote for best of anything category was the Internet connection throughout Nicaragua, but it seemed to get progressively worse as we traveled. I had concerns it was my laptop that was the problem, but hence it was not. In Masaya, it took a good 20-30 minutes to download my e-mails. Uploading anything like my photos or blog was impossible. In León, I had complained so much they had someone come to check the wiring on the router to no avail. Here they just apologized profusely, but I was getting the idea it was a country issue.

Highlights of Masaya next.

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León the Tattered Lion

There is a TV show in the US called Pretty Little Liars. This is what I call travel writers who try to make a city sound appealing when in fact, it really is like putting lipstick on a pig. This is close to my take on León, Nicaragua.

However, our story begins with the morning of leaving Granada. Gerry our host knew I was ill, really, really ill. There wasn’t a single orifice on my body that was not leaking, spilling, spurting, or blasting out some type of fluid. All of this fun was yet to be enhanced with a 2 hour ride in an overcrowded shuttle meant for 12 people, but which had 15. The only redeeming feature was that it was air-conditioned or I would never have survived. My thoughts were leading back to last night’s dinner. Ron was fine, but had a different menu item. Regardless, Gerry offered some stomach pill and a large plastic bag. Unfortunately, it was clear and not black. Let’s just say I learned new skills in covert operations if filling the bag.

The shuttle left us off right at the front door of our accommodations - Posada Fuente Castalia. This was a lovely place run by a wife and her husband, both former educators. She was the local Minister for Special Education and he was a Professor of Literature at the local university. Typical of homes here, after passing the living room area, you walk into an extensive garden area open to the sky with rooms on one side sheltered by an overhang. Our room was named colibri, which I thought was interesting since it is kolibri in Hungarian and hummingbird in English.

Once in the room, I did not flutter my wings, but set out for a long nap with intermittent sets of jogging to and from the bathroom. We were not able to do much the first day since I was restricted to public conveniences. Somehow we managed to make it to the center square where one of the churches is located, but that is a given in these countries. Every square has to have a church, a Catholic church. Now the Lonely Planet guide suggests that León is a charming city with some faded eloquence of its colonial past still visible in the architecture. To this I say “Liar, liar, pants on fire”.

León is the 2nd largest city in Nicaragua after Managua the capital. It boasts having the Basílica de la Asunción, the largest cathedral in Central America. Highlights are listed as the Stations of the Cross by Antonio Sarria, which are considered to be masterpieces along with the black Jesus: El Cristo Negro de Pedrarias. It is thought to possibly be the oldest Catholic image in the Americas having arrived in 1528. The stations were huge, but not exceptional in my view. This could be my prejudice in the subject matter. The black Jesus was interesting, but what struck me the most was the outside of the building. It was decrepit. Perhaps the top 1/16 of the building was looking clean and fresh with a bright white luster, but the rest of it looked in dire need of a makeover.

Cattycorner to the church is an excessively oversized woman dressed in Spanish attire. She is La Gigantona, the giant woman who represents the original Spanish colonists and continues to be mocked today during folk festivals. Indigenous people thought the Spaniards were oversized humans who also happened to be ugly. The male representative does not fare well either, but he is not a giant, just severely unattractive.

As in most Central and South American cities, the central squares are bustling with activities in various forms. This is the heart of a town or city. It is where socialization happens, gossip is exchanged and cultural traditions are maintained.

There are few museums in the city, but one that was listed as a ‘not to be missed’ was the Museo de Leyendas y Tradiciones (Museum of Myths & Traditions). We had difficulty finding it as it is housed in La XXI (the 21st Garrison), a former prison during the political revolution. It seems like a strange setting for a quirky collection of life-sized papier-mâché figures that evolved from the history and legends of the city. Most of the figures were handmade by the museum’s founder Señora Toruña. There is a life-sized replica of her also on display. She lived to be 95 years old, but wanted to live on so had the realistic looking statue made.  Intermixed in these representations of fun and legend are the murals which graphically portray the methods of torture that the Guardia Nacional used on prisoners. At one moment you want to laugh at some legend, while the next you need to shed tears for man’s inhumanity to man.

We were led from room to room by our guide who spoke English well enough to understand, but at the same time make us have to hold in laughter at some of his mistakes. Each room is dedicated to a diverse aspect of local folklore. It is here where we discovered La Gigantona from the center square who is ridiculed still in a popular folklórico ballet. Another room has La Carreta Nagua (Chariot of Death), which picks up the souls of those foolish enough to cross intersections cater-corner.

When in a room, our guide would explain the local legends; outside the rooms he solemnly explained the cruelties used here such as stretching prisoners on racks, beatings, water tortures and other abuses that were regularly employed here until June 13, 1979, when Commander Dora María Téllez successfully breached Somoza’s defenses. He secured La XXI for the Sandinistas, releasing all prisoners.

The other museum we visited was on particularly no interest to me, but Ron enjoyed it. It was the home and archives of the poet Rubén Darío. I had not heard of him, but I am not a lover of poetry. I found this on the web “…initiated the Spanish-American literary movement known as modernismo that flourished at the end of the 19th century.” Everything within was in Spanish, increasing my disinterest.

The Nicaraguans say that there is fierce competition between León and Granada as to which city in the best. I cannot imagine it is a competition at all. Granada has intact roads and sidewalks, even in the outer areas. In León, if you aren’t continually vigilant, you are putting your life or at least your ankles at major risk with the broken cement, gaping holes, and irregular pavement. The architecture in Granada is charming, even the run down areas, you can find weathered allure. León just looks rundown and in need of a major renovation. There are 19 Catholic churches in León, but not one of them is in decent shape.

We did find two bright spots, both coffee cafés. One was Pan y Paz French bakery, the other was Casa de Café where the coffee was excellent and the bread, and desserts were worth writing home about.

We did spend a day visiting Just Hope. Last year, one of our B and B guests was associated with a woman minister who set out to create a charity where women could develop sustainable forms of income. That was over 20 years ago and it has expanded exponentially. Through our guest, we started writing to the minister who is based in Tulsa, OK. We took a taxi to the various projects accompanied by the Nicaraguan director Julio Delgado. It was a delightful day filled with admiration for all they have accomplished. This outing was postponed three times due to my being sick.

Basically, if I weren’t sick for almost the entire week we were there, I would have been bored out of my mind in the time spent in León.

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Granada - Home Potential Indicator Part 2

In the center of the city, there is an extensive park vibrating with activity. People are selling foods of all kinds, cigarettes, toys, sunglasses and other items. Some people are just milling around while others are relaxing or napping under the shade of the trees. Granada is a safe city as was Managua. There are no concerns about being attacked, mugged or otherwise. Well, actually, there is a ‘zone’ that one does not venture to after dark, but it is well beyond the tourist needs and not all that attractive even in the daylight.

One of the highlights of the city, especially around this park is the horse and carriages. All along one side of the park, there are about 20 carriages waiting to be your taxi wherever you want to go. These are not just for tourists as they function as taxis as well as the taxi automobiles do, so locals use them as often as foreigners use them.

One day as we were returning from the grocery store, one of the young carriage operators stopped us to chat. His name is Giovanni. Yes, he has an Italian name; it is not really Juan and I am not trying to pull a fast one. Giovanni owns carriage number 34. His English is great. Part of me really wanted to take a carriage ride, but the other part of me had reservations. As we witnessed these horses as they passed us on the streets, some look so malnourished it made my heart bleed. I could not support the presumed cruelty to these animals making them slaves, while some may say if I did pay for the ride; the owner may have more money for feeding them. It is a vicious cycle. Telling Giovanni we may take a ride ‘someday’ since we were here for a week, kept him satisfied, but he insisted we remember his carriage number to find him when we changed our minds.

The next day, a tap on the shoulder alerted me to find Giovanni standing behind me. He offered a different type of tour if we weren’t into his horse and carriage ride. He could provide us with a tour of the islands in Lake Nicaragua. The lake covers 8,264 km² and is the largest lake in Central America, 19th in the world. It boasts 365 islands as Giovanni likes to say, there is one for every day of the year. For $25 each, he would pick us up at the hotel, drive us to the lake and spend 2 hours touring the lake with us to give an education. We accepted with arrangements for the next morning.

We told one of the women staying at the B and B with us and she decided to join in. We spent over 2 hours touring the lake viewing the different islands and were blown away. A number of them are privately owned, a few by US Americans, one by a Canadian, a couple by Europeans and the others are either Nicaraguan owned or for sale. Not all of the islands are large enough to inhabit, but there are plenty to go around. Those that are large enough have mansions on them, complete with swimming pools. As divine as they looked, the thought of needing to motor boat to shore for all your other needs, seemed too inconvenient for me. I would get island fever in a week’s time. Just think, when you had houseguests, you could not get away from them or they from you either.

On another day, we took a shuttle to Laguna de Apoyo. Imagine a giant volcano imploding on itself and then filling with water, which gives you the general history of the Laguna de Apoyo. Sitting on the rim are various hostels, but we booked a day trip with Hostel Paradiso for $12 each transportation fee and then $7 each usage fee once there. The ride was about 40 minutes to reach the place. Like its name suggests, this is a bit of paradise. At the top of the property, there is the hostel itself with common bathrooms. As you descend, the entire property is landscaped with flowering shrub plants and bougainvillea. At the next level is a restaurant and small bar. Further down is yet another small restaurant where footlockers are available for locking up your valuables. There are hammocks, rockers and lounge chairs all over the property, with the majority placed near this lower restaurant and along the shoreline. There are kayaks and inner tubes for guests to use. Since the ‘beach’ is not sand, but volcanic rocks, I did not swim. I was not particularly interested in swimming, but I had a book, so I was more than happy to sit in a lounge chair, relax and read. There were two reasons I avoided the water. 1. I have Princess and the Pea feet. The rocks would have been insufferable. 2. Finding out I am diabetic, I do all I can to protect my feet at all cost. The shuttle was there to return us to town by 4:30 pm, so I did not suffer in the least. The views are spectacular and I did some bird watching, snapping a number of photos.
    
Granada is a gorgeous little city when you stay in the center. As you expand out, you leave some of the quaint architecture behind and get into the reality of poverty. Regardless of how poor the people are, they are friendly. There was rare a moment when we passed someone on the street who did not say “Buenos”. They frequently abbreviate it leaving off the day, afternoon, or evening.

Why I would not live here is simple. The government still borders on the crazy. One American who has lived here for 4 years told us she knew of people who did things the government did not like (no details provided other than they were foreigners) so they had their building expropriated. Vroom, now you own it – now you don’t. It is government property and you have no recourse. It turned out not to be an isolated incident. I happened to mention to Gerry our host that if he were comfortable with gay people, he should advertise on Purple Roofs and EBAB. He said that although he has a no discrimination policy, down the street from him, a couple opened a gay hostel. Within a year, the government closed them down and seized the property. Okay, this is not as friendly a place as I had hoped. Nix Nic.

Other reasons are the smokers. They can smoke anywhere here. In restaurants, some have designated smoking sections, others don’t. I hate being a ‘reformed smoker’ and I still really enjoy the smell of tobacco, but not when I am eating or trying to enjoy an espresso. Then there is the dog problem. Homeless dogs are a major issue. There are more emaciated dogs roaming the streets than there are dogs at a Westminster dog show. 

The government approved monthly salary is C$4,753.02 Cordoba  = $190.12 (US Dollars). If anyone dares to say, “Well the cost of living is so cheap there…” I will smack you silly. As cheap as it is to live here, this is still extreme poverty. If you live in the US, try living independently on $12,000 a year and see what it feels like. This one issue really fries me. 

When guests come to Budapest and they hear what I earn as a full-time university instructor responsible for 9 classes a semester, they often comment “Well the cost of living is so much less expensive here…” I go into a slow burn. It barely covers basic living costs; living in Budapest is not cheap.

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Granada - Home Potential Indicator Part 1

You may not read this until I am dead and dust, the Internet speed is so frustratingly slow. If I were sitting any closer to the Internet router, they would need to give me a colonoscopy to reset it. So it goes and some of the reasons that Nicaragua has fallen from grace as a potential place to live. Honestly, there is more to life than Internet speed, so here is a recap of our time in Granada.

It was spectacular! Recap concluded.

That was cheating right? Well here are some of the highlights. One way I approached each city we went to was to think in terms of what services specifically for ex-pats was lacking that the locals could also benefit from. One idea I had in Panama was to open a waffle restaurant, just a small one to fill a need for those North Americans needing a fix. Kathy’s Waffle House is a booming business in Granada. We ate there two different mornings, being thoroughly satisfied with the offerings. I did photograph the menu for future reference, perhaps for somewhere else. We also had breakfast at the Chocolate Museum where they offer an all you can eat breakfast for $6. They are smart in that they serve omelettes, pancakes and waffles. You choose the ingredients for each; however, the pancakes and waffles have the fruit or chocolate on top, not in the batter. They also only serve one at a time, reducing waste. Their omelettes were exceptional. Why Kathy’s is so busy when this place is a better bargain is a mystery. Other mornings, we ate our own cooking prepared at the guesthouse. Gerry always has fresh coffee ready each morning for guest consumption. These two places nixed my idea for any type of small eatery. 

There are relatively few museums in the city, but we went to them all: all three of them. Some had unusual mixes of modern art with artifacts from centuries ago. Nevertheless, the architecture of the interiors were worthy of the visit and the admission of $1-$2 could not be beat. Churches fit into the museum category, as this is an ultra-Catholic country, there are plenty of them to visit. The most famous is Convento y Museo San Francisco, the oldest church in Central America. Another church worthy of a visit was Iglesia de La Merced. So what is a nice atheist boy doing visiting churches? This is where the treasures of a culture are stored. People will give all they have to get God’s indulgences, so the churches prey on this mentality and adorn the church for the glory of God. Some of the best artwork you find in primitive countries is in their churches. If we were to live here, what would we do with ourselves. That question was answered later through observations. 

We continually encountered groups of men, who without too much eavesdropping were obviously ex-pats who had settled here. Some of the faces changed from day to day, while others were repeaters. They seemed aimless and from their conversations, if they did not meet with others here or there at some watering hole, they had no life whatsoever. Interestingly, we encountered only male groups. Were the women folk occupied with real activities or did they die from boredom early on in the move here?

Culturally, there is little to be engaged in. The movie theater still has posters from the first Harry Potter movie, yet we never saw the doors unchained. There are no theaters for plays, no stadiums for concerts or sports (not that I am complaining, but just saying). What the locals do is ‘hang out’. As cliché as it sounds, there are an abundance of rocking chairs in this country. Most of them are wooden framed with caned backs and seats. The workmanship of each rocking chair is impeccable and having had to do caning for a Boy Scouts merit badge, I can attest to the rigorous nature of caning. Children start rocking from early years, almost before they are off the nipple, rocking themselves in little chairs in that hypnotic embryotic contentment motion. This is how they spend their free time. You walk around the city any time of the day or night, especially in the night if the house is still warm; people are decked out in front of their abode rocking away. If they could be wired, they could be generating massive amounts of electricity, making the movements productive. This is the national pastime.

What we did for entertainment was desperate, but enjoyable in the end and fit our social work mentalities. A gentleman from Venezuela who had moved here over 30 years ago, opened the Escuela de Comedie and Mime: The school of comedy and mime. He wanted to do something for the children of the city. They generally never complete school beyond the 6^th grade. Education is free, but they have to buy their own supplies, books, and pay for transportation if there is no school in their district. There are also a number of children, who are orphans for various reasons, so become street beggars. This man wanted to change their fate. 

Through his school, children come to learn drama, clowning, and mime to provide performances for the public. This in turn enhances their self-esteem. Over the years, Mr. Venezuela was able to fund a home to house these children, get them medical care and now they have a school. He has had multitudes of ‘graduates’ who now have fulfilling careers after receiving an education, and are contributors back to the organization for the next generations.  

One of the nights we were there, the school has a puppetry performance. A puppeteer from Mexico had come to the city to perform as a charity benefit for this school. There was no admission, but they passed the hat at the end. Through a variety of puppets of varying sizes, the entertainer told stories. Although they were all in Spanish and beyond our comprehension at the speed of his telling, we still enjoyed the evening.

The next night was another performance, this time by the students of the school. A North American director from Los Angeles came to Granada and volunteered to direct a play. It was a mix of the stories about the Goose That Laid the Golden Egg and Jack and the Beanstalk. There was no dialogue spoken. Intermittently, there was story line projected onto the wall, which was perfect for us to be able to read. These children from 4 to 19 years old, performed amazing feats of juggling, gymnastics, and unicycle riding. We left there feeling like we were walking on air, the feelings it left us with were so incredible. I hope that we will be able to aid the founder with finding some funding sources to continue his work. If we lived here, this is where I would direct my energy. He did share his observation that in his 30 years, he has found that Nicaraguans are not into culture, so he has difficult getting them engaged in the productions they produce.

Prior to attending this show, we went to an opening of an art exposition. One of the women staying at our bed and breakfast is an artist from Germany. There is some sister city connection between her home city and Granada. Six German artists came to Granada with their art pieces for a joint exhibition with their Granada counterparts. We had chatted a few times over morning coffee, so we felt some pressure to see what this was about. Besides, the Casa de Los Tres Mundos Building was the hosting location, a cultural center that normally charges admission. For the art opening, there were no fees. Most of it was modern art – ultra modern. This is not my cup of tea, but we went, we saw, we explored the inside of Casa de Los Tres Mundos.  

Other highlights coming are the islet tour and the day at the volcano crater lake.

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Drowning in My Own Sweat

Okay, I feel guilty over not writing sooner. Honest, I do! There are reasons, not excuses for the absence,
which I will go into short detail about and then hopefully we can move on from there.

We were in Granada. Were the past tense as in we left there…over a week ago. What happened? Well, it is summer in this region of the world. It is hot out. No, change that to blistering hot out. Unlike Panama City where every store has air conditioning blasting and the front doors wide open, here they have the front doors wide open, but no air conditioning. Even our accommodation charges $10 a night extra for A/C with the expectation that it is nighttime use only. That said, the room did have a heavy-duty floor fan as well as a ceiling fan. Neither really met the match of A/C, but we didn’t realize how much we really needed artificially cooled air streams blowing over our sheets causing us a nighttime chill.

The room was not totally uncomfortable, but we toyed with the idea of wrecking our budget for a night or two splurging on the remote control needed to turn on the A/C unit, but it never won the battle. Add to this that Nicaraguan beds and pillows are like sleeping on marble slabs. I truly believe the pillows are made of straw that has been soaked in concrete before being formed into a shape that will never know what fluffing means. This led to lack of sleep. Lack of sleep led to apathy.

Days were moderately busy, but honestly, there would have been plenty of time to write IF it were not so damned hot. The heat melted away any incentive I had at being creative, sharing, or moving away from the poolside, though I did not even go in the one here.

Finally, the Internet connection is worse than when I had a 56K dial up modem, two centuries ago. The bed and breakfast has “high speed” Internet with a heavyweight router, but the upload speed is as fast as a mule in mud. One day, I thought I would be progressive and upload my photos. It took me 2 full days of letting the computer run non-stop to upload 36 photos. I could have delivered them to Picasa in person faster.

Even typing my notes in Word and then copying and pasting into Blogger has not solved the issue. Blogger times out before any saves have been made due to the Internet speed.

So that said, this is why I have not created a comprehensive overview of Granada and now León has past. I will write up a quick overview of each for my memory in the future as well as for your ‘reading’ pleasure. Hopefully, it will get uploaded.

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Granada – Love at First Site

Mike, the owner from our Managua accommodation, drove us to Granada about 40 miles away. After the hot, dusty, litter filled places we had seen, I had great hopes for Granada. As we drove through the beginnings of a town, which was rundown, littered, and dusty dirty looking, Mike announced “Welcome to Granada!” My heart fell, but I held out hope. 

My faith was not misplaced. A few blocks later, we were surrounded by the colonial architecture we had seen on the Internet and in books. Just off the square was our place to live for the next seven nights, Casa del Agua. Mike went to the gate, but could not find the bell. The “Sorry, we are full” was not promising that anyone would be around to let us in. Eventually, this big bear of an Irishman came to open the gate. Gerry is the owner of the inn, with a huff and a puff, showed us where the bell is located and then on to our room. 

As one enters Casa del Agua, there is a foyer with two rooms off of it, but directly in front on you, there is a swimming pool. Our room is one of the four to the sides of the pool. More than enough room to spread out, the bathroom alone is larger than some apartments I have seen. Lovely! The wall mounted TV has a USB port, so I can download our movies to USB and watch them in bed. What more could we ask for? The pool is 24/7, though not nearly as large as Mike’s in Managua, it is a place to cool off.

We set out to explore the city and fell in love within minutes. The center square is dotted with one glorious building after another, while the center park area is swarming with people selling various food items, jewelry, candy, cigarettes, hammocks, and more. 

Today is my birthday, so we decided to follow Gerry’s suggestion and go to El Camello’s restaurant. What a great idea. I had fried avocado sticks with creamy garlic sauce as an appetizer. My main dish was chicken satay served with rice and a salad. There must have been two chicken breasts of meat. It was more than plentiful; I love satay sauce. Ron had pea soup with chucks of ham and a special of the day salad with red leaf lettuce, beets, tomatoes, and coca nibs. I tasted both and they were incredible. 

As it turned out, Gerry is a bear with a marshmallow center. He is really a sweetheart, funny, and helpful.

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