Volcano Boarding and the Pacific

I'm desperately looking for an urban center that I like in Nicaragua, I came to Leon. It's, again, more of the same but definitely the most charming city in Nicaragua so far. There's a ton of churches and also a really great art museum. Somehow it owns a few original Picasso sketches..I don't know how, guess the owner had alot of money. The main reason for coming to Leon though was to hike up and board down an active volcano. Cerro Negro is a relatively new volcano that last erupted in 1999. It's the second I've hiked up but the most volcaney looking volcano that I've been up. All blackened volcanic rock and sulphur clouds. Once you get to the top, they give you a penitentiary style orange jumpsuit, safety goggles and a "Board." My jumpsuit was of course too small and came to about 6 inches below my knees. The guide said it was supposed to fit like that...but then why did everyone else's come to below their ankles? Anyway, I decided to go first against a german guy. One side of the volcano is eroded so that it's more sand-like than the other faces but still pretty much just rocks. You sit toboggan style on the board and they just push you down. You're supposed to put your feet out and use them in a braking type style to steer the board. Easier said than done when you're going 40mph down a volcano on a piece of wood. It took about 20 seconds until I did a face plant on the volcano and my board went careening down the volcano ahead of me. I caught up to it eventually but lost the race. The damned suit left my legs exposed so now I have gashes up and down the side of my left calf. Not to mention that I'll probably be finding volcano dust in my stool for the next week after eating about a pound of it.

Afterwards, myself and some other people from the trip got a bite to eat and a girl with us got her bag with her passport taken right out from under her chair. We were all sitting there...it was like a ghost took it, truly incredible. We went with her to report it. The police station in Leon looks more like a place where you would get robbed than to report a robbery. I waited outside while they got the woman to take our report since I didn't want the roof to collapse on my head. When we were giving our account of what happened, I couldn't help but notice a pile of AK47s just leaning against the cabinet like they were nothing more than envelopes. I probably could've stolen one but I can't take anymore weight in my pack.

I was going to go to Honduras the next day but it would've taken too long to get there by the time I got up. I saw a sign in the hostel bathroom for "Rancho Tranquilo" which was owned by a Californian named Tina. Tina's place was as far out of the way as you can get. Nestled on a little peninsula jutting out into the Pacific ocean, it was perfect. I swam and boogie boarded mainly.

Tina's boyfriend is involved with a sea turtle rescue project which I volunteered with for a bit. I spent the nights stalking the beach with a flashlight looking for mothers laying eggs. The idea was to take these eggs and put them in an artificial nest (vivero) to protect them from poachers and also to supply ideal hatching conditions. The problem is that the fishing stock in the ocean is nearly gone and so out of work fisherman turn to poaching sea turtle eggs and then selling them in town for a quick buck.  Sea turtle eggs are a kind of spanish fly around here and local men do shots of them to increase sexual potency.  It was a frustrating experience because at night when the turtles usually lay their eggs (probably to use the darkness to protect their eggs?) you are searching the beach along with 15 other poachers looking for the same thing as you...and they're way better at it. The poachers always find them first. You can buy the eggs from the poachers but they won't sell unless you give them the same price that they could get in town and since the project is operating with basically no money, we can't afford to buy them. Noel, a local kid helping with the project said that only 5 years ago, you could walk on the beach for 5 minutes anytime after nightfall and almost trip over a turtle laying eggs. Now you're lucky if you walk for 6 hours and find even one. The whole experience for me was like watching extinction happen in real time right before your eyes. If you have any spare money, you can donate money here:

http://seaturtlerescue.org/how.html

I can't think of a better way to use your money...unless you need it for your mortgage payment and in that case, shame on you, who has a mortgage in this economy?

I'm back in Leon today. Leaving tomorrow for Ometepe again. I'm going to work on a farm again...

Little Corn Island-The Shark hunt

After Ometepe...things got kind of garden variety. We got over to Grenada, stayed only for a little bit and then went to Managua (the capital city). As far as ¨Colonial¨cities go, Nicaragua has definitely not put the cash into preserving it like Colombia has. Both Grenada and Managua were ugly messes of decaying buildings and garbage. I looked for some kind of charm in both but couldn´t do it...mainly because I was worried about getting foot mouth disease in Grenada. The second day we were there, they had some kind of horse parade and the streets were blocked with horses at every intersection. We almost got trampled trying to cross the street to eat and definitely stepped in shit getting there. Managua is what I imagine L.A to be like, if L.A was in Nicaragua. The city is a sprawling monstrosity with no recognizable downtown area. You need to take cabs to every point even to the stores to buy batteries. Luckily, we only had to go to Managua to get a plane to Little Corn island which is an island off the Caribbean coast of Nicargua (much like when we went to San Andres island in Colombia)

Little corn is the most remote island I´ve ever been to. There are no hotels just small hospedajes and there is no road so the only option to get around is to walk, use a bike or to get pushed in a wheelbarrow. We rented a little cabina at this place called Carlito´s which was on the other side of the island. Renting at Carlito´s was good for many reasons. One, not many people go to Carlito´s since the restaurant isn´t that great and it´s not a place to party. Two, it´s super isolated because people don´t want to walk all the way to the other side. Three, I heard Carlito served 10 years in a United States federal jail for being caught running cocaine into the United States. This, to me, made the place safer from others since we were already in the arms of the criminal underbelly of Nicaragua. Unsound logic? Maybe, but I bet that if anybody came to mess with his guests and disrupt business, Carlito would probably come out in his khaki shorts and penny loafers brandishing a shotgun. He seemed the type.

I caught up on a 6 year hiatus of diving and snorkeling too (I only went once in San Andres). I quickly became obsessed with the idea of swimming with a hammerhead shark since they hang out around the island. 3 dives and 2 snorkel trips later though, there were none to be found. We saw a lot of nurse sharks, sea turtles, a pack of 5 eagle rays(which is amazing and beautiful in it of itself) and I also got to finally scuba dive with Dolphins. This trumped the Hammerheads anyway. Dolphins are incredibly smart and you know that they are constantly messing with you. They show up out of nowhere, and jump out of the water. You stop the boat dead in the water, everyone frantically gets their stuff on and you jump in and swim after the pod. It´s only after about 10 minutes of swimming that you realize the dolphins are exactly the same distance in front of you...they let you catch up and then swim away. Those things are real tricksters...never trust one with your money.

We got back to Managua and Neesy Bean had to go back to New York so I´m travelling solo again. I guess Leon is next. I´m looking into how to get into Honduras next but currency is not looking so hot these days, someone send money...fast.

Nicaragua

Traveling in Central America is great...everything is so close together. It's like going to Wisconsin to get to another country. 2 buses and 2 hours from Monteverde, we were crossing the border for Nicaragua and what a difference it is. Nicaragua, finally, is what I expected South America to be over a year ago when I got here. Traveling is done in chicken buses and they're hilarious. If you remember the Bluebird yellow school buses that we took to 5th grade circa 1992, then you now can know what happens to those things when Americans are tired of using them; they send them to Nicaragua and then they're covered with house paint and used to transport people all over the country. After about 2 of these and a ferry crossing we got to Ometepe Island on Lago Nicaragua.

The island was formed by two competing volcanoes (the Nahuatl words ome (two) and tepetl (mountain), meaning two mountains) that sprouted up on either side. It has a small bustling population spread along the coast of the island. It's pretty beautiful and unspoiled since it's not incredibly easy to get to. We rented a motorcycle to be able to transport ourselves around since we wanted to stay on the outskirts of the island on a beach. We spent our time hiking up the largest of the volcanoes Concepcion and almost dying, swimming and walking around the reserve. I finally got to see wild monkeys (Capachins and howler monkeys) as well as a super strange looking bird with a ponytail called a white throated magpie (huge bird but fast, I wish I had a good picture).

Learning to drive a motorcycle was...interesting. It was only a 125 CC'er so not hard to handle. It only fell on me once. I had a hard time getting the hang of moving from idle to 1st gear and actually getting going since I never learned how to drive stick. I stalled out in the middle of a farm and couldn't get it started again. I spent 5 minutes trying over and over again to move without stalling out again in front of a Nicaraguan farmer who was obviously having a good time watching me. Denise tried it and moved forward on the first try. It was emasculating. However, by the end of the three days I'm now pretty sure I could go cross country in a Harley. The last day when we had to return the bike in the main town of Moyagalpa, we strapped our daybacks to the rear with bungies and took off for town.

When we stopped for gas 20 minutes later, I noticed something missing from the back; my bag. We frantically drove all the way back towards the beach peering in ditches, scrutinizing villagers looking for my bag and found nothing. I had no idea when it flew off and it was probably instantly scavenged by any Nicaraguan passing by so it was pointless to look for. And so goes the last of my remaining electronics; camera, ipod and some chargers. Luckily, I didn't have my computer in the pack. This is the last item that gives me any kind of comfort in this rough life as an international backpacker, I think I'd just weep and fly home if it was stolen or lost. My only solace is that a group of 10 year old Nicaraguans are sitting around my iPod in this moment watching old episodes of Family Guy and laughing at jokes they don't understand.

Losing the bag put a pallor on things but I guess I'm used to losing things at this point and, plus, now I have less weight to carry. Traveling is all about looking for silver lining in crap colored clouds sometimes. We got another bus to Granada two days ago. Granada is...well, it smells like horse excrement and it's full of Texans smoking cigars. I'm very confused.

Panama thru Costa Rica

Panama City, Panama:
Cool, very similar to Cartagena. Well maintained because there is supposed to be a huge influx of gringo retirees moving into Panama City during this decade (this is projected by the government atleast, I don't know how they decide these things) Very safe feeling and, like Cartagena, there are two distinct parts of the city. A new part with tons of skyscrapers which I didn't spend much time in and the old part, Casco Viejo, which had some run down Colonial buildings. I have a shot of the dichotomy between the two from a bridge in Plaza Fracia. I also have a few shots of an American Christian youth group that set up shop in the middle of Plaza Francia and did a play. I watched most of the play...I was so captivated by the idea of it and by the audacity of American new age Christians. I also had to go to the Panama Canal which was what you'd expect; a giant canal with huge ships passing thru it from the Pacific to the Caribbean side. The canal museum was probably the most interesting part of the whole affair. I saw the biggest mall of my life and watched Captain America with some Canadians too..did I mention that?

San Jose, Costa Rica:
Denise was meeting me here so I got on a bus with Gee and Natalia (the Belgian/Mexican couple from the plane in Puerto Obaldia) and went to San Jose. I stayed in a pretty cool little house turned hostel called Pension de la Cuesta. San Jose is not much. It's got a ton of American food chains ( I hadn't seen a Wendy's in over a year) so I guess you can go there for that. We only stayed for a day and then left for more northern parts the next day.

Monteverde, Costa Rica: Some disenfranchised Quakers left the states and started a conservation project in Costa Rica up in the hills and called it Monte Verde. Soon the government caught on and turned it into a National Reserve. Now Monteverde is an American Disneyland selling eco themed tours. We did a night tour (saw nothing) and a hike thru the reserve (saw nothing) and decided to leave the country. Costa Rica is the most expensive place I've been to in 13 months (worse than even Chile or Argentina.) I will have only stayed here for only 5 days and am fine with that. We're getting the out of here and going to Nicaragua tomorrow.

Panama

It was raining when I woke up in Capurgana and waited on the dock to get the lift for Puerto Obaldia. The 6 of us finally left on a small boat for the 45 minute ride. It was actually really beautiful along the way and seeing the Panamanian flag flying from a mountaintop when we entered Panamanian waters was like something out of a dream..mainly because I thought I'd be rotting in a Colombian jail by now and never see it.

The immigration procedure there was pretty easy and straightforward. I just needed to find that AirPanama "building" which was pretty much just 4 walls with a desk and a scale. When I got there they were weighing everyone's things..and their bodies which is when I realized this was going to be a different type of flight. When I put my bag on the scale, I found out that it was indeed 60 pounds and that, with my small bag and guitar, I was carrying a total of 75 pounds. The limit per person was 25 pounds. Usually in a situation like this you pay some kind of fee for your overage and then you're good to go. However, they kept calling this plane an "avioneta." It literally could not carry more than a certain amount of weight because doing so would be dangerous and possibly cause my tragic, untimely death. Myself and the other people waiting for the plane were told that we had to leave all of the excess baggage there in Puerto Obaldia and that it would come on the next plane out of Colombia on Tuesday. This caused chaos and a screaming match between the Mexicans that were trying to get on and the Puerto Obaldians working the desk at Air Panama. It soon became clear that I might not get out of Colombia (again) if I didn't do it since homegirl was not budging on the weight thing. I packed my small daypack with the essentials and resigned myself to the throes of fate..hoping to see my big backpack again. I also found out that I weigh 198 pounds apparently. I've lost 12 pounds since being here and eat nothing but crap every day. South America: The Diet of Lazy People.

The plane, of course, didn't leave until 1:30 (it was supposed to leave at 9:40 am) and so I had to make myself at home in Puerto Obaldia. Thank god I was only there for a few hours. Puerto Obaldia literally is nothing. A few shacks, one restaurant, one tienda and a ramshacle building that was the headquarters for Air Panama. Good news came when we were about to leave. The plane wasn't full, none of the passengers were obese and so there was weight left for all of our bags which definitely reduced the tension among everybody.

The plane showed up and it looked like the one that Ritchie Valens died in in La Bamba. I told this to the Colombian next to me. He said "Oh, don't worry, if the plane falls, they can find it." Not mentioning the fact that we'd probably be dead when they found it I said, "oh, well That's good news." The flight turned out fine of course and we went thru one of the most complex Immigration procedures ever to enter a country. Two interviews and 3 different entry points until we got to the place we needed. The Colombian guy with us (me, the two mexicanas, a belgiumer and an american and argentian couple) directed us onto a system of buses and taxis and we finally found a place to stay at Hospedage Casco Viejo in the city's old sector. I've been speaking nothing but Spanish all day and I think my brain is about to implode. I definitely need to be doing this more.