The First of Many Posts, I Hope

We got back from Nica last night, and I will try to capture for myself all that we saw, but I am remembering it through the prism of a night out in Portland, OR (where I am today), Black Star on my ipod, and some wierd Brazilian drink I thought it wise to drink tonight. Before I begin, here's a preview.

First of all, I just need to say that Carl and Angie are the most awesome hosts, and Mr. Scobie is a topnotch travel agent in his own right. In the weeks prior to our departure, he was working his ass off, but in the midst of it, he was secretly making arrangements for a highly entertaining vacation.

We landed last Sunday night in Managua, and were greeted at baggage claim by innumerable Nicaraguans pressing themselves to the glass outside. It was a little unnerving. Fortunately, our driver was one of the people mobbing the door, preventing our exit from the airport. He hustled us to a corner and went for his car. It was hella muggy. I saw an Obama sticker on a car and breathed a sigh of relief. We piled into his van, which mercifully had two seat belts (truly, my kids wore the only 6 seat belts in all of Nicaragua, I think) and a boomin' sound system. The kids' eyes bugged out of their eyes as we drove the 40 minute ride to Granada. It was actually too dark to see much, but the smells were truly something to experience. Wood burning gave way to skunk, gave way to diesel exhaust, to cow manure, to pot, back to wood. In the dark, people just standing at the side of the road. A pack of dogs chasing loose balloons into the road. Broken trucks, horsedrawn carriages, the smell of meat, lovers sauntering, and we were blowing past at 80 kilometers an hour.

We checked into the Hotel Colonial in Granada and headed out for some food. We ended our search at O'Shea's, no joke, a sidewalk cafe that sported a live mushroom in the courtyard. Guess who was psyched? There also seemed to be an actual Irishman on hand. Right off the bat, we had to tackle (hamfistedly) the poverty of Nica. A panhandler smartly chose the almost-six year old to hit up. When I said No to the guy, Li immediately said, "Why can't we give him something?", which made me feel shitty and loquacious all at once, like I'd be able to explain it all right there. Within 24 hours, the kid was like, "No, gracia" to every street vendor in the town.

The next morning, we walked around town, seeing the Cathedral and the Convento de San Francisco. Pictures will follow. We never made it Kathy's Waffle House, sadly. Carl and Angie arrived around lunch time and afterwards, we headed to Lake Nicaragua for a kayak trip. I will get to that tomorrow.