Rain drops are falling on my head

I left the sunny island of Utila a few days ago to come explore more of Central America. On the mainland here it is rainy season, and they are not kidding when they say RAINY. After a few hours on a bus through Honduras (ok, 3 hours plus 13 hours), I arrived in Managua, Nicaragua. I met up with some friends I had met in Utila in the colonial city of Grenada and stayed in an interesting hostel where I learned some Israeli card games and apparently the unoccupied rooms have an invasion of bedbugs never seen before by mankind. Eviatar, one of the guys I met up with, got a little confused after a late night and a lot of rum, and fell asleep in the wrong dorm room. Unfortunately when he woke up in the morning, he was covered in thousands of bites. When he added the inevitable mosquito bites the following day, his foot and leg swelled to about twice their normal size and he is now an invalid, limping around in the jungle. I thought I had escaped relatively unscathed, but somewhere in my first 24 hours in this country I picked up my own set of unnusual bites, which seemed innocent enough until they formed giant, puss filled blisters on the back of my leg. I popped them today, and am hoping rubbing alcohol and neosporin will do the trick. The joys of cheap accommodations and/or tropical climates.


After a brief morning in Grenada 5 of us took a shuttle to the Tree House, Poste Rojo, about 20 min down the road. It was a real life, full scale tree house up in the middle of the jungle. It is a 15 min walk from the main road, another 20 min hike up to the dorms and then main area. Everything is wood decked and up high, with viewing platforms over the valley, a suspension bridge, and a group of howler monkeys who hang out in the trees overhead. It is a relatively new hostel and really very cool, a nice chill alternative to cities- or even villages!


From the tree house we visited some natural springs, an exciting tuk-tuk ride down a bumpy dirt road and then a hike into yet more jungle. The water was clear and fresh and cold, a great reprieve from the hot day. Our tuk-tuk driver took us to a little roadside restaurant where the woman cooked us a delicious meal. It seems the typical Nican food is gallo pinto, or rice and beans, and most dishes come with this as a side. Rice and beans or some of my favorite foods, so I am a happy camper. We also managed to rustle up some groceries from the little stand. They didn't really sell anything, but one of the women would go running down the road- to a neighbor, a market, a field, we really had no idea- and would come back bearing the requested items. 10 eggs? Check. 3 avocados? Check. Only 2 were ripe so she threw in 2 extra for free. Tomatoes, onions, limes, bread? Check, check, check. A different trip for practically each one, but happily procured and still all less than $4 a person, including our cooked meal. This morning we made a feast, and the boys made the last of their precious tahini, which has a similar use as hummus but an intense flavor. Three of them are from Israel and can make some darn tasty food.


This afternoon Chris and I decided to explore the area a little more, even (gasp) get some exercise and go for a hike! We took a tuk-tuk to the tiny town of Diria, maybe 10 minutes away, and went up to the mirador (lookout) over Laguna de Apoyo, a beautiful, clean lake. We hiked down into the crater, a hot and slippery 30 min. Just as we were getting into the water the sky opened up and a downpour began. Being in a lake is not the worst place to be in a rainstorm. It was actually quite beautiful, and we swam until the rain stopped. Unfortunately it made for a very soggy hike up, and it kept raining off and on the rest of the day. There were claps of thunder so loud you could FEEL the electricity splitting the air. The weather here is impressive in its intensity.

We visited another of the Pueblos Blancos, the town of Caterina. Our tuk tuk driver for this leg was Pablo, his friend Carlito sitting in back with us. Apparently they are locals who lived in Miami as kids, and were pretty curious about tourists who were not with a church group. There were a lot of "yeah, dawg" and "homie" thrown around, and Carlito offered to show us the "local side" of things tonight and gave us his 2 phone numbers. But as Chris later summed it up, we might have gotten a little too local, left in a bar with no wallet and a broken face. We thanked him for the offer, and promptly lost the paper.

Caterina had an amazing view of the lake and you could also see Lake Nicaragua and Granada in the distance. The artisanal work we saw was on the tacky side- neon plaster piggy banks and such- but we found a shop with nice things and the woman explained some of the masks that represent a popular Nicaraguan play of the colonization by the Spanish. We also found a small spot for another tasty, cheap lunch. Half way though it began pouring again, and has hardly stopped since.

Chris and I decided to come back to Grenada and explore a little more while the others hang out in the tree house. We caught a "chicken bus" on the main road. These are old Blue Bird school buses from the US- the long yellow ones with vinyl bench seats. They are the cheap local option and are usually packed with people and their goods, often times live chickens. They will stop and pick you up or drop you off anywhere along the road. When we got on the driver was blasting a radio station straight out of the 1950s in America. When we jumped on it was playing "raindrops are falling on my head". How appropriate, given the monsoon outside.