Managua Trip - Part 3: Masaya

Waking up to our first leisurely morning in a long while, Stephanie and I enjoyed a wonderful breakfast of yogurt, granola, orange juice and much more that is would be unimaginable in Bluefields. We hadn't received a call from our acquaintance of the night before about the ride he had offered, so we enjoyed our morning and got into a bit of planning. Pulling out maps and consulting our local friends, we decided that our mini vacation would consist of a trip to Masaya to check out the markets followed by a night in Granada and rounded off with an afternoon at La Laguna del Apoyo, a volcanic crater lake with what is posited to be the cleanest water in the country. Beyond being aware that there were buses linking each of these locations and that they were all reasonably close (anywhere from 20min to 2hrs depending on who you asked), we opted to leave the rest up to spontaneity and good luck.

Packing light enough to avoid renting a room should we so desire, the two of us headed down the road with the clothes on our backs and a vague notion of where we were headed. Accompanied by the usual chorus of car horns, whistles and catcalls that accompanies any mildly attractive woman (especially those of lighter skin tones) in this country, we cut across the the busy streets and headed towards the bus station. Along the way, we passed street vendors hawking everything from beautifully crafted jewelry made of seeds, shells and obsidian to gallo pinto, pineapples, gum and cigarettes. We also meandered past the Universidad Centro Americana whose walls were covered in magnificent graffiti art and a myriad of political messages.

Arriving at the bus station, we were immediately accosted by conductors wanting to know where we were headed and attempting to entice us onto their bus. Informing one of them that were were on our way to Masaya, he ushered us towards a bus labeled with Granada and assured us that we could get off at Masaya on the way. Discovering the price of passage to be less than $1 we figured we couldn't go too far astray and climbed aboard.

On the way out of town, we slowly cruised the streets as the conductor leaned out the front door and shouted "Granada, Granada, Granada!" Passengers walked alongside the bus to get the pace of it's movement before stepping up with the wheels still rolling. In no time at all, all the seats were taken and the aisles filled. Satisfied that he had gotten all the fairs he could hold for the moment, the driver steered us out of town and onto the highway connecting Managua to Granada.

As the conductor squeezed his way down the aisle collecting fares, we informed him that we wished to disembark at Masaya, preferably somewhere near the marketplace. He nodded and confirmed that he'd let us know when to get off. We should have known something was up by the skeptical expression of the older man next to him, but it wasn't till we'd passed our turnoff that the older man spoke up and told us we should get off. This was a little perplexing since we had not through any town of any description, but had been on the 'highway' the whole ride. Nonetheless, the conductor agreed that we had gone past our stop, asked the driver to halt and told us to get off. We stepped out on a non-descript stretch of road with nothing more than a few thatched homes in either direction and a fat horse happily grazing along the embankment. With a vague gesture back in the direction we had come from, the conductor stepped back aboard and took the bus away with him.

Luckily, both Steph and I were in the mood for an adventure, and neither of us had any pressing engagements to attend, so we calmly began strolling back towards the only intersection we'd seen, a couple kilometers back down the road. Being the only people walking and two gingas to boot, we attracted a fair bit of attention as we wandered down the road. Taking advantage of such to request slightly better directions, we were informed that the marketplace we were searching for was located to the left a 'short' distance past the intersection. I should probably take this moment to explain a bit about directions here... There are no addresses, even in Managua, which makes getting anywhere a bit of an adventure. The closest you might get is something along the lines of so-and-so's house, half a block south of such-and-such commercial center. There are rarely any street names and when there are, no one knows them. In some cases, directions don't even relate to existing things, but rather places that used to belong to so-and-so or buildings that used to have such-and-such store. In any case, this results in very vague directions and very relative concepts of distance. You can ask 5 people how far one place is from another and you'll get 5 very different answers generally ranging anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours apart. Hence, we didn't really put much stock in the description of the town being 'close' but simply commenced walking in the general direction indicated.

It didn't take long before the ominous skies that had been brewing most of the morning decided to let loose a short burst of rain as we made our way along the side of the road towards Masaya. Luckily, that interlude didn't last too long and we managed to continue without getting too soaked. Strolling along, we were passed on all sides by every conceivable variety of bicycles, motorbikes, horse-drawn carts, taxis, buses and trucks. Happy to enjoy the scene, we managed to wander past the turn that no one we asked had bothered to mention actually led to Masaya. We discovered this minor mishap only after flagging down a bus we thought was headed to Masaya only to be informed we actually wanted on headed in the opposite direction. Whoops. Relatively unperturbed, we spun on our heels and headed back the way we had come. This time, a nice young man on a bicycle slowed down to chat and we managed to get slightly more informative direction out of him. Double checking his suggestions with people hanging out on each corner, we found ourselves walking down a wide, cobbled road, this time with slightly more people on foot. Unfortunately, the rain had held off as long as it could and the light drizzle we'd been ignoring was quickly becoming for forceful. Luckily, we happened to be passing by a small food/beer shop and managed to duck inside just as the skies let loose.

Passing the time with a beer and some excellent chicken, tortillas and gallo pinto, we managed to shake any bad feelings from having ended up slightly lost. As soon as the rain let up, we were on our way again. This time, we could already see the beginning of the market in the distance, so we knew we were headed in the right direction. We walked down a rutted dirt road past shanty wooden structures with rusted metal roofs lining both sides. It being a saturday afternoon, we had to dodge a few soccer balls from the riotous games being perpetrated down every side street, but we made it through unscathed.

Arriving at the market, we wound our way through rows of small wooden stands, stepping gently to avoid the large puddles of mud, but still emerging significantly more mud splattered than when we began. As we passed through the food market where the tables were piled high with bananas, mangoes, cabbages, casava and much more, we soon found ourselves entering the clothing section. Pushing on through the maze of passages that ran seemingly without reason through the miniature city that the market turned out to be, we finally arrived at the area we were searching for, the one with vendors hawking crafts of all varies. There were tables piled to the ceiling with wooden table sets, hand carved sculptures, dozens of varieties of jewelry made from obsidian, shells and seeds. Hanging from the rafters were colorful bags of every conceivable variety, woven hammocks, tapestries and more. In some sections, stuffed chickens were displayed alongside dried, bloated frogs positioned in rather compromising manners. It was like walking into a forest of industrious elves keen to show off their skills. Picking through the trinkets, we each made a few small purchases and headed our way.

As luck would have it, we managed to arrive at the bus terminal just as the last bus to Granada was getting ready to embark. Taking the last available seats, we sat back, relaxed and headed off to what we had heard was a breathtaking city.

Managua Trip - Part 2 : Managua

After arriving in Managua, Stephanie and I spent the following few days running around town gathering various supplies and running errands of one kind of another. On Thursday we had the pleasure of sitting through a three hour presentation by the US Embassy on their role in aiding NGOs operating in Nicaragua. Over the course of those 3 hours, only about 3 things they said were actually interesting and useful, but it wasn't a horrible way to spend the afternoon. In theory, the objective of the meeting was to provide a arena for networking among NGOs, but in reality, everyone was so tired of being there by the time the presentations were done that no one stuck around long enough to chat with. Not that it would have made much difference if they had. We were the only people there who do any kind of work on the Atlantic coast, so there weren't that many options for partnerships or mutual aid. However, I've neglected to mention how ridiculously ostentatious the Embassy ground were. After going through 2 security checks just to get through the front gate, we were met by a mini-van that shuttled us across the expansive grounds and up the hill to 'casa grande,' which lived up to it's name. Sitting in the entrance hall with roughly 100 other people, we had more than enough room to spare. I was somewhat flabbergasted when we were informed that the massive structure we were sitting will shortly be converted into the private residence of the ambassador. What anyone needs with quite that much space is well beyond my understanding.

Once we left the Embassy, we headed home where a couple other volunteers were just arriving from the airport on their way off on vacation. A little jealous, Steph and I determined that we also deserved a short vacation and began planning our own short trip for the weekend. Sometime after dinner as our friends were filing off to bed in preparation for their 4am departure, Steph and I decided we were in the mood for a few rounds of pool. Enlisting Rafael to act as our negotiator, we flagged down a cab and headed off to a very high class pool hall complete with full-size tables and air conditioning. Once again we were the only females in the room, but we're getting used to that pretty quick so it wasn't much of a bother. Plus, since the place was air conditioned, you didn't have to fight the stickiness of your own skin while sliding your cue into place. This made for significantly better games on all accounts. A few beers later, we were ready to make our way home.

It being quite late by this point, there weren't many taxis around, but we were willing to be patient. Finally one drove by and stopped only to inform us that the asking price was 3 times what we had paid to get there. Sending that driver on his way, Steph and I decided to test our theory of ginga price inflation by stepping out of sight while the next taxi rolled up. Our hypothesis was proven correct when Rafael had absolutely no problem getting a reasonable price the first time he asked. Thoroughly amused, we stepped out from behind the SUV we'd been watching through and hopped in the cab. I don't think our driver was all that impressed, but he'd already made the deal with Rafael and hence had to give us a fair price.

The next day, Juli called to inform us that she was coming into town to hang out for the weekend. Excited to have another friend in the big city with us, we managed to finish up the last of our most important errands in time to meet her back at the house as she came in from the airport. Having already made plans with a group of her French friends for the evening, all we had to do was step outside and climb into the back of the truck her friend was driving. It must have been quite a sight for everyone we passed on the way. Here were 10 'extranjeros' dressed up to go out on the town and riding in the back of a pickup truck through the streets of Managua. Again, thoroughly amused.

When we got out, we were at Bar Arriba where an apparently famous Nicaraguan band from Masaya was rocking the house. The music was actually awesome, but so incredibly loud that it was impossible to enjoy properly. We hung out through a couple sets and enjoyed some good old Toña (local beer for those of you who missed that blog). Had a rather amusing few moments when a guy came up and started trying to chat in rather broken Spanish. A little unused to being the one speaking superior Spanish, I asked him where he was from and discovered he had just come down from San Francisco to visit his family for Father's day. When I offered to switch to English, he was visibly relieved, but the conversation didn't last all that long anyway.

After the music had come to an end, all the Frenchies decided to head across town to a gay bar with a ridiculously high cover price (for Nicaragua, that is). Being on a rather tight budget, Steph and I opted for the free salsa bar down the road instead. Despite being the only people there, we still had a good time spinning across our own private dance floor. We were joined relatively shortly by a friend of G's who had come to visit Bluefields and who we had run into at the concert just a little while before. He didn't really know how to salsa, but he was forgiven when we discovered he had a car and offered to drive us to Granada the next day. Excited at the possibility of getting a free ride down the coast, we called it a night relatively early and headed home.

Managua Trip - Part 1 : the Panga ride

Last Tuesday afternoon, after a hectic morning of last minute errands, Stephanie and I got decked out in our best fisherman's outfits and headed off to catch the panga to el Rama in the pouring rain. Having packed all of our belongings in layers of plastic and donned very flattering, over-sized, bright yellow rainpants, we were ready to embark upon our journey to Managua. Arriving at the docks, we paid our 4 cordoba entrance fee and lined up. An hour or so later, were were cozily squished into the front seat of the small wooded boat awaiting our departure. After wrapping up the luggage in another layer of plastic, the driver passed a clear plastic sheet along one edge of the boat and instructed us all to pull it up and over our heads. This was to be our only protection from the driving rain for the duration of the nearly two hour ride. As we exited the lagoon and picked up speed, those of us in the front had the pleasure of holding down the front edge of the plastic with our feet while forcibly pressing the top half away from our faces. With the panga moving at a good speed, this was no easy task. Of course, Stephanie and I had to count ourselves lucky since the farther back in the boat you were seated, the harder the plastic snapped down upon your head to the rhythm of the wind and waves.

Throughout the entire ride, all we could see was a thin haze of gray with an occasional splash of green on the horizon. Pushing the plastic away from your face was more than a casual motion and required constantly switching hands as one arm became exhausted. Luckily, both Stephanie and I were in high spirits and managed to thoroughly enjoy the ride, despite bone jarring bounces, fetid smelling plastic, rock hard wooden benches and rivers of water flowing across our feet. By the time we arrived in el Rama, we were both very thankful for the abundance of waterproof clothing we had worn and the redundant plastic wrapping of our belongings.
Hoping off the panga, we stripped down to slightly more reasonable clothes, secured seats upon the bus that would be departing at 7pm (about 4 hrs after we arrived), and prepared to wait. Smelling something delicious upon the air, we ventured across the street and discovered a lovely little stand selling deliciously marinated chicken, gallo pinto cooked to perfection and homemade tortillas. Feeling like queens at a banquet, we enjoyed our savory snack and settled in once again. Well, settled in until we discovered the existence of a billiards hall just down the street. Thoroughly excited, we passed the next couple hours accumulating quite a crowd as the only female pool players el Rama had apparently ever encountered.

A few pleasant hours later, we were on our way to Managua on the nicest bus I have yet to come across. Serenaded by everything from Spanish hiphop to Bob Marley to Brittney Spears and Madonna, we passed through the countryside and into the big city. Arriving in Managua, we were met by Victor and chauffeured back to casa Ivan where we happily collapsed into bed.

Sky high

Alright, this one was too good not to share, but I'm gonna have make it quick... There are 2 types of wind turbines used by blueEnergy, tilt up and ladder-style (not the technical names). Anyway, one of them you service by tilting the entire pole down to the ground and doing repairs there. The other, you climb 100ft into the air and lower the turbine down. The second type was getting serviced yesterday, which sparked a burning desire to hike up the tower and get a good look around. So, after half jokingly suggesting that I'd like to climb up, Stephanie and I found ourselves strapped into harnesses and slowly making my way up the metal framework to the swaying platform above. Despite the rather incredulous stares from the workshop boys, we made it all the way up and thoroughly enjoyed the view. Being that high up offered a stunning panorama of all of Bluefields, the Corn Islands and more. Quite a treat for a Friday afternoon.

Nueva Oficina

The past week was a whirlwind of sawdust, paint chips, cement and gravel. Over the course of 9 days, including a marathon workday on Sunday til 12:30am, we (the workers and various volunteers) managed to transform a rundown, hornet infested and filthy classroom into a pristine new office and conference room. We even completed a full kitchenette and bathroom along with all new grates over the windows and doors (welded into the reinforced concrete structure) and all new furniture. The Desks in particular were an interesting challenge. After starting with the conference tables and discovering that it's impossible to buy dry wood here, I had to completely re-design every component to be made entirely out of plywood. Hence, the desks were each designed to use exactly one 4'x 8' sheet of plywood without any wasted cuts. In addition, they were designed to be transportable and therefore come apart into 2 pieces. Anyway, this is all a much longer story, but I'm way behind on everything else, so I'll let a few pictures speak for themselves. Enjoy!

Here's what it looked like before we got started:






And here's where we're at today:

Beautiful Day

Yesterday was a wonderful experience, it had just a little bit of everything and not too much of anything. The day started with a little home improvement project of building a spice rack for the kitchen. This is something that has been on my mind since the first night I cooked here. Up until yesterday, if you wanted to use any spices, you had to lean all the way over the stove (which was usually on by the time you remembered you needed spices), and struggle to reach the tantilizing jars that stayed mysteriously just beyond your reach, often necessitating the use of a large ladle or other object to extend your reach. Having decided to take the day off from working since I didn't get much of a break last week, Julie and I opted to attempt to remedy the spice situation.

It was lovely morning of interminable rain that turned the ground to mud and brought the temperature down to a reasonable level. As Julie and I sat around sanding our wood I watched our neighbor cut her grass with a machete in the pouring rain, completely unperturbed by the fact that she was drenched to the bone. After laborously hacking through a board with a handsaw only to end up with a crooked, slanting edge, we opted to swallow our collective pride and go ask the construction workers over at G's house to do a couple quick cuts with the circular saw. This was a fun little adventure since it meant running across the mud soaked yard, dodging the laundry that was getting a second rinse in the rain, and attempting to elegantly slide down the slick, wet slope that led to G's front porch. By the second go round, we had already ditched our shoes and were making no pretenses to stay dry. Since it was still a warm day, there was little to be concerned with and we had a ball running back and forth for tools and borrowed supplies.

A few hours later, we were just putting on the finishing touches and getting ready to mount our new creation in it's resting place above the stove when the lights went out and we had to halt work on account of there being no electricity to power our drill. Luckily, it was just about lunchtime anyway, so we took a break, had some food and waited for the power to come back on. It's really kind of interesting because, unlike power cuts in the States, life just goes on when the lights go out. People keep cooking, flashlights are turned on, and most things continue as normal. We even have a backup battery bank for the office, so those who choose to can continue working as long as the power's not out for too long. In any case, as soon as the power was up and running again, at least an hour after it cut out, we climbed up on the counters and put our masterpiece in place. It wasn't quite a perfect fit, but it works wonders and looks relatively pleasing. =) All in all, not a bad way to spend the morning.

In the afternoon, Lynn baked a fabulous chocolate cake with homemade chocolate icing and she, David, Julie and I set out across town to deliver the birthday surprise to a friend of Julie's. We piled in to the cab, picked up some strawberry icecream and made our way all the way across town to 'Loma Fresca' or the 'cool hill' neighborhood for the English speakers in the crowd. After negotiating a price to be driven all the way down the rutted dirt path that leads to the nicest homes in town, we were happily bouncing along with icecream and cake in hand. When we arrived, I was thrilled to see that the home we were to go relax in for a bit was a beautiful wooden structure raised on stilts. As we were ushered in and up the stairs, we found ourselves on a gorgeous covered veranda overlooking the calm, gray lagoon. We passed a few delightful hours eating sweets, chatting and staring out across the steel gray water through a mist of fine rain. As the storms subsided, we watched tiny fishing boats and 2 man pangas (dugout canoes) make their way out across the bay. For the first time since the boat ride into Bluefields, I also got to see a bit of wildlife. There was a regal little egret who strutted around just below the deck, a pair of finches with bright yellow breasts and a chorus of other birds. For the first time in a long while, we were able to enjoy the sounds of nature without the blaring of taxis, barking of dogs and chorus of other noises that are the background to nearly every day.

Refreshed and happy, we said our goodbyes and wound our way back to casa blueEnergy. When we arrived, we were greeted by Guillaume who had just returned from Managua with Christian, a former volunteer who has returned for a few months of work, and Phillip, a former student of his who has come down to help out for a short time. With the whole family home complete with new additions, it was time for a trip to the corner store for beer and flor de caña to start off the night. We passed a few hours chatting while dinner was in the oven and then moved over to the table for slightly more serious discussions. As soon as the food was gone, and the precious wine (which we can't buy here) had been drunk, Guillaume took the opportunity to fill us all in on a myriad of new and old developments that will reshape many of our projects and directions in the near future.

Thoroughly saturated with information, most people drifted off to bed, but a few hearty survivors, myself included, decided that such a serious discussion could only be followed by a night at Four Brothers. Rallying the troupes, we squashed into a taxi and headed off for a night of dancing.

Hours later and happily exhausted, we made our way home and I fell into bed happy with the fullness of the day.

Change of Pace

Since coming back to Bluefields life has taken on something resembling a routine. My project for the week has been to organize (aka 'do' in this country) cleaning out an unused INATEC classroom and converting it to an office for blueEnergy. This would at first glance appear to be a simple task, but as I am quickly discovering, nothing is ever simple. That said, it has been a relatively painless process to date and we are progressing much faster then I dared to hope.

The first major obstacle in beginning our renovation was to acquire a key to the room in question. This entailed meeting with the director of the IPCC campus (who is notoriously useless and loves to drag his feet). Our meeting was no exception to his general demeanor. First, he was "in a meeting" all day for 2 days and completely inaccessable. Then he tried to claim that they needed the room for some sort of administrative training sometime in the future, despite having received orders from the head of INATEC to grant us access. Once we got over that argument, he claimed there wasn't a single other locking room on campus where he could store the (unused) typewriters that currently lived in said room and we would have to wait until Guillaume got back on the weekend to discuss storing them. Though not a perfect solution, I managed to divert this argument by feigning fear of my boss's anger and offering to store the typewriters in the adjoining closet until G's return. Only 2 and a half days after we were supposed to start work on the room, I finally had the key in hand! Quite the achievement for Bluefields!

The next step was to empty out all the desks and typewriters and move them to the small closet next door. This was relatively easy until we discovered the plethora of hornets nests that adorned most of the windows and a few of the lights. At first, we managed to work in relative harmony until the stacks of desks begin encroaching upon the hornet's territory. At that point, in a momentary lapse of attention, I reached up to push a desk aside and immediately yelped in pain. Hopping down and running out the door with a sharp pain in my hand, I cursed the horrid insects and nursed my wound. Only, it wouldn't stop throbbing and was quickly getting red and swollen. Seeing what had happened, Ronald assured me that if I simply peed on my hand, it would all go away. A little skeptical, but without many other options and in serious pain, I opted to try this bush remedy. Surprisingly enough, it worked wonders. Only moments later the swelling had subsided and I was able to return to work.
I spent the rest of the day removing louvered glass panels and laborously washing each by hand. This was the first moment that I wished we owned a power washer. It would however, not be the last.

Although I had nearly forgotten about the hornet sting during the day, at night, as I lay in bed I could feel my hand slowly swelling and when I woke I was greeted with an itchy, bloated, bright red fist. Not a great way to start the day. Opting to work on some drawings rather than doing hard labor, I passed the glass washing task onto Juli and spent the day creating working drawings for the desks Felix will begin building shortly. I was greatly excited to see that he had already started on the tables I had assigned to him the day before, but my excitement was bit premature. By lunch time, Felix had already come to inform me that the wood we had purchased was still wet and would need at least a week to dry before any joints could be milled. Disappointed, but still enthusiastic, I turned my attention to other tasks.

One of the nice things about this week has been that I moved my office over to the shop, which means I actually get to leave the house. Each morning I walk through the streets and up the hill to the INATEC campus and our workshop. I spend the day either working along side the workshop boys or on the computer creating drawings. At lunchtime, we all hike back over the house for a big meal of rice, beans and some sort of meat before returning to work in the afternoon. It's been wonderful getting a chance to interact with all the local workers rather than being stuck in the tiny little office most people work in at the house.

Another recent alteration that has changed the pace of life is that we have now officially entered the rainy season. Everyday without fail, the skies will open up at least once to release torrents of rain. Unless you've personally experienced a tropical storm, I'm not sure I can properly describe to you the volume of water that rushes from the sky in a single instant. You can literally get drenched to the bone passing from the doorway to the sidewalk. Being wet has simply become a fact of life. If you need to leave the building, you're going to be wet. It doesn't matter how big your umbrella or how thick your raincoat, you're still gonna get wet. Fortunately, it's still relatively hot, so getting wet isn't such a big deal. It's not like a New England storm where you're shivering wet and miserable. Here you're just wet. In any case, the change in weather has brought a change to the pace of life as well. Things move with the rhythm of the rains. If you'd planned to go shopping, but it starts raining, you change your plans. If you know you have to do something outside, you make it happen whenever the skies are clear.

Alright, back to our new office space. Do you remember how I started wishing we had a power washer with the glass? Well, the next time I spent the day working on cleaning up the classroom, it was to scrape the flaking paint throughout the whole room by hand. Power washer would have been helpful. Next, I scrubbed all the walls, again by hand, to get rid of years of bird and bat shit, termite nests, vicious biting ants and other such things. Again, power washer would have been wonderful. Nonetheless, by the end of the week, we managed to get one coat of paint on the back wall and everything else prepped to start painting again on monday. Like I said, quite an achievement for the week. Now we just have to hope that the wood dries enough to finish the furniture and that the paint dries despite the torrential downpours and ridiculous humidity. Keep your fingers crossed and we'll see how it goes.