March 7th, 2009

Today I awoke to a conflagration of dawn calls, both of introduced European roosters and of native tropical fauna. How these reminded me of the calls that woke me on a daily basis during my time in Australia! Grabbing a water bottle, I headed out to the balcony to listen--the first awake, as usual. The mighty wind continued to roll across the tin roof and through the long corridor connecting our apartments. It never rested, never slept.

From the balcony I can easily see the ocean. A semicircular lagoon is there, with many boats and moorings. On the street below a man is loading hundreds of grey cement bricks into the metal bed of his truck, scraping them as he positions them into place.

WHAM! Scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape. WHAM! Scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape...

Taxis drive by frequently--they seem to make up 90% of all compact cars in the country--accompanied by the occasional speaker car, announcing some sort of circus show or bar opening or local event. Despite the earliness of the hour, the giant cones atop the trucks roar thunderously through the little neighborhood.

Peddlers begin to wander the streets selling their wares; large plywood sheets festooned with all styles of counterfeit sunglasses, huge rolls of hand-woven palm mats, pots, pans, and jewelry. Men with coolers and rolling carts announce the catch of the day, no doubt harvested from the sea as we slept.

"Mariscos! Pescada! Langostas!"

Occasionally someone arises from their porch for a pound of fish or a live lobster.

Equally abundant to these tradesmen and women are children, who follow you and beg for money; on occasion for small trinkets they have found or made from palm leaves, but most often not. One small child was so brazen as to climb the stairs to our apartment and enter our flat, demanding 20 cordobas (~1 dollar). What can be said about these lost little ones but that they are an unfortunate truth. They exist all around the world, especially where a living can be made from tourists and foreigners. In a perfect world, they would go home each night to clean sheets and a good meal, but with the real world stacked in the favor of the rich, powerful, and willfully ignorant, this possibility is very far away.

*Editor's note: Natasha reminded me that a Nicaraguan local told me I looked like Harry Potter at the bar last night. I told him that Harry had round glasses, while mine were square. I took off my glasses, and he said I still looked like Harry Potter.

Photos for March 4-6, part II

March 4-6 Continued

Woke up this morning and it was still hot. When I opened up my bag, I realized that just about every bottle or tube of liquid or paste I brought with me had burst, and it sure was a mess. As luck would have it, our water was also shut off, so there was no way to clean up. Apparently it's not uncommon, and I'm preparing myself for long stretches without bathing. Yum.

We walked around town a little bit today and bought a few necessaries (sunglasses, towels, etc) and then we went down to the beach. There is an ever-present wind in this area, especially on the coarse sandy beaches, and coupled with the dryness of the season, a painful sandy gale stings a sunbather's flesh at almost all times. Oh well. It's still gorgeous.

In the market there were strange fruits, spices, and grains we had never seen before; plantain and banana relatives of all shapes, sizes and colors; small green fruits like limes, but resembling pears or even plums; large tubers as long as my arm, and what appeared to be huge, elongated tomatoes.

After a very inexpensive seaside meal (seasoned with windswept sand), we walked along the beach, admiring the sights and sounds while deciding what to do until Reuben, who had stayed in Managua for the evening, and his friend Patrick got here. We eventually decided to return to our apartments, which had finally been vacated by the previous occupant.

Our host family kindly showed us the rooms and layout of our flat, which consisted of street-facing deck, a living room, kitchen, two bathrooms, and a long corridor with four rooms. All were open-air, with space between the ceiling and the tops of the walls. We unpacked, biding our time as the sun set, and ushered in the evening reading novels and yammering in Spanish and Japanese.

Dinner was good. It could hardly be called traditional (except for "traditional tourist-trade fare"), but it was fun. After a few local beers (Toña, the beer of Nicaragua), we perhaps indulged in a bit too much rum (Flor de Caña). After all, it was our first night there, and the drinks were so incredibly inexpensive when compared to any bar in the states. We had our fill and wandered down the street, visiting various bars and frequently stopping to meet/greet Natasha's many local friends (she had lived in San Juan del Sur for a year as a volunteer).

In our silliness we happened upon a palm frond, and decided that we all would be best "fronds" for life. We even endeavored to make "frondship" bracelets... I suppose you had to be there.

Returning home, we played a rousing game of Uno, and after talking excitedly late into the night, we retired and fell asleep with ease.

Photos for March 4-6

Nicaragua

Note: The following are a series of transcriptions from my travel journal. The dates will not line up with the posted dates. Sorry.

March 4-6; The road to Nicaragua

After a confusing trip back and forth around Hartford and a fast food meal, we finally made it to Massachusetts. Reuben, Lizzie, Heather, Natasha and I were spending the night in Boston at Natasha's childhood home. It was richly decorated with art and artifacts from all over the world, and was maze-like in design. It also featured a terrifying massage chair, which restrained one as they took their massage, whether they liked it or not. Disturbing.

After some deliberation, we decided to forgo sleep and remain awake until our early-morning flight to Miami. Board games, conversation, and silliness passed the time. Then came approximately nine hours of travel in remarkably uncomfortable airplanes.

We landed in Managua, largest city and capital of Nicaragua.

After going through customs, we opened front doors of the airport to be greeted by a dense crowd of local taxi drivers: "Taxi? Taxi? Taxi!" they called, hoping to tempt exhausted travelers into their cabs, away from the heat and the wind.

There is snow on the ground, and the air is still and cold... at least it used to be, just hours ago. It is immediately apparent that I am in a tropical climate, far away from the cold misery of Connecticut's dreariest time of year.

We found our driver, and we promptly rocketed toward San Juan del Sur, our final destination.

Passing the outskirts of Managua we saw incredible amounts of garbage and people walking for miles as if they did it every day (they probably do). We saw tortured landscapes of chopped trees and smoking piles of vegetation. We saw villages cobbled together bits of wood and metal, families sitting together on the front stoop, groups of kids playing football and kicking up clouds of dust in the hot air. There were children walking toward their rural homes in their school uniforms, miles of plantain fields, and huge estates surrounded by high walls and barbed wire. Everywhere, the buildings were brightly painted and garish, their appearance almost mocking the apparent destitution.

When we reached San Juan del Sur, it was 5:00 and we were starving. After greeting our host family and enjoying a delicious meal (gallo pinto, chicken, some kind of vinegary salad), we went to a local bar called Iguana's and had some pretty good beer (Toña). Our first night ended, and we slept soundly in the spare rooms of our hosts, as our apartment was not ready yet.

The night was quiet and hot, the wind rushing through the spaces between the walls and the ceiling, and our fans running, their operation punctuated by frequent brown outs and power outages. Thoughts of home filled my mind until I finally drifted off to sleep.

bbb

Nearly graduation.

Well, it's just under a month until I walk and receive my diploma.  Since I posted last I was accepted into Wesleyan's BA/MA program, which entitles me to a master's degree one year from now.  I also went to Nicaragua for Spring Break, and I actually took detailed notes and many pictures, so perhaps I will transcribe the notes and put some pictures up here to chronicle my adventures for everyone to see.  There is no time for that now, however.  I've got plenty to do in the last days of my Senior year in college.

I'm 22.  I turned 21 in Australia last year, and 22 in Connecticut this year.  Unbelievable.  I don't feel any more grown up than I did when I first entered college, though I suppose I'm still relatively young.  I think I at least expected to know what I'm doing with my life by now, but hey, I suppose I'm lucky enough to have plans for next year.  Many of my friends are having a lot of trouble finding things to do in this economy.  I suppose there will be many adventures and trials ahead for people in my class the world around.

A couple of confirmed cases of swine flu in CT so far.  Only one death in the US though, so things aren't all that serious just yet.  Who knows.

Alright, that's enough for now.  I'm not very good at writing off the top of my head, so I'm just going to stop.

Wow... this thing still exists?

It's been a busy summer so far.  My research has progressed and now all we really have to do is menial lab work: feed caterpillars, check for moths and butterflies, enter data.  Pretty soon we'll start analysis.  I miss being in the field!

I've continued on with my photography, though my portfolio is currently in crisis since my computer crashed.  I've gotten a bit better at photographing inside of forest-type conditions, which is nice, and I've gained a genuine appreciation for the Connecticut forest; different from Australia, of course, but no less wild.  I've also started to do macro photography, which is rather a lot more complicated. I find many interesting insects in the field and I've been collecting them; ultimately I'll be pinning them into an entomological display box, but as I've gone along throughout the project collecting them, I'd always wanted to photograph them in detail.  What I do is flip around my lens, which allows it to focus no more than a couple of inches in front of my subject.  Anyway, it takes forever for a number of reasons, but I'm generally happy with the results.  Should I get my pictures back, I'll post them.