After almost two years in Honduras I had only visited one other Central American country so I decided that I needed to get a move on it. So after Christmas I headed to Nicaragua with a few Peace Corps friends and then to Costa Rica with my parents for a long vacation. Overall, it was wonderful to relax and see my parents but neither of the trips were exactly what I expected them to be.When everybody left after Christmas I was incredibly bored and still had to wait over a week to see my parents. I called Mary, a fellow PCV, to come down to Santa Barbara and keep me company and then we headed to Teguc the next day. The following day we took a 6.5 hour bus ride to Managua, Nicaragua (the capital) on a luxury air conditioned bus (we were freezing!). Things went smoothly on the first leg of the trip, but when we tried to catch a cab to the next bus station the cab driver lied to us and tried to cheat us. First, he tried to overcharge us (which is to be expected) and told us we had to leave right away because the next buses were leaving. Then once we were in the taxi he told us that the buses weren’t leaving now because they were full of students and he would have to take us to another bus station that was farther away and would cost more. We didn’t buy it and he took us to the original terminal which was functioning just fine. The second we stepped out of the taxi the bus attendants instantly surrounded us and started grabbing our bags and arms telling us to come with them. We plowed ahead and got on a bus where the bus attendant then proceeded to charge me an extra fair because I had a bag (which they didn’t do on the way back, so I think he was just taking advantage of me being fresh of the bus). Needless to say, our first impression of Nicaragua was not a favorable one. I think the fact that we live here made it even more infuriating because I am not just some clueless tourist that doesn’t speak any Spanish that can be taken advantage of. It also infuriated me when they would try to speak English to me and quote prices in dollars (I told them I didn’t earn dollars and didn’t have any).
We arrived in Granada, a popular colonial tourist town about an hour outside of the capital, and met up with Kendra and Nick, two other PCVs, as well as Nick’s friend Nick (yes, they are both named Nick) from the states.
Our first activity was to take a very slow and crowded chicken bus to Catarina a nearby town to go to the mirador that overlooked the nearby lake and the city of Granda.
After that we contemplated going to another little town known for its arts and crafts but were too lazy. Instead we headed back to Granada and looked for a place to eat. As we were searching we ran into one of the Rotary members who visits Santa Barbara a couple times a year with a medical and construction brigade. Small world! So of course we sat down and had a “safety meeting” over burritos with him and his wife.
To celebrate New Year’s Eve we met up with some of Nick’s friends from the states and had a wonderful dinner at El Hotel Corazon, a brand new hotel in Granada that gives 100% of its profits to a local community organization. We also celebrated Nick’s birthday with a chocolate chip cookie cake.
Then we headed to El Club for dancing until the wee hours of the morning. Mary and I realized we have been in Honduras too long when we begged the DJ to change up the techo music and play reggaeton.
New Year’s day we had the brilliant idea of going to the lake to swim but once we got there we realized that our idea wasn’t unique and that the rest of Nicaragua also had the same idea. We had to walk along the bank of the lake for about 20 minutes just to find a rocky slopped spot to lay down our towels.
As we walked in Mary, Kendra and I realized that we were probably the only foreigners there and that about half of the men had tattoos. In Honduras, tattoos are quite taboo and often associated with gang membership, so we began to feel slightly unsafe. Luckily a kind Nicaragua later explained to us that tattoos don’t have the same stigma in Nicaragua and they are quite common. We all felt better after that.
We had planned to travel to Ometepe, an island in the middle of the lake formed by two adjoining volcanoes, but decided to stay in Granada because Mary was sick all over. Our hotel wasn’t very nice and we had a little tiff with the owner about the exchange rate (yet another guy trying to cheat us) so Kendra and I scouted around town to find a nicer hotel to stay at for the next two days (ie. AC, cable TV, pool, beds with no springs sticking out, etc.). We found a great place called Hotel Capricho and spent the next two days there laying by the pool and snuggled three in a bed watching TV in English.
Although we really didn’t get to see much of Nicaragua we all enjoyed just relaxing. As we have all been in Honduras for almost two years we are a little tired of it all and didn’t mind holing up in a hotel for a few days if it meant we didn’t have to deal with cat calls, sweating, trash on the streets and drunk men that small like urine sleeping on the stairs of the Catholic Church.
On January 4th Mary was feeling slightly better and she and Kendra headed down south to go to the beach while I headed to the airport to fly to Costa Rica. As I went through immigration they looked quizzically at my passport. Due to the fact that I entered Nicaragua over land they did not stamp my passport and therefore there was no record that I had left Honduras. I wanted to tell them that “clearly I had left Honduras because here I am standing in front of you”. The immigration officer told me I couldn’t leave Nicaragua and that I would have to go back to Honduras and then fly from there to Costa Rica. I told them that wouldn’t work for me so could they please find a way for me to get on my flight. The officer left and talked to some other people and then explained to me that I would have to buy a tourist visa for $3 and then I could go. Although I didn’t really buy it I wasn’t going to argue over $3 so I paid it and off I went for a 45 minute flight to San Jose, Costa Rica.
