The Awkward Traveler

Tomorrow I head off on another adventure and I’m having trouble wrapping my head around that fact. How did I get so lucky? After barely doing laundry I’m repacking my trusty backpack, loading my new favorite tunes onto my iPod, and soothing my hypochondriac tendencies by taking a mobile pharmacy with me. I will not fall victim to the Delhi Belly!

I can’t really fathom what Asia is going to be like and I’m ready to be challenged. I mean they practically speak Chinese over there! I think it will finally hit me when I walk off that plane in Bangkok and Ilan is there on the other side of the gate and we run in slow motion towards each other. Gloriously reunited. If it sounds a little gay thats because it is…

I’m sorry! I got sucked back into the United States of Lazy and just could’t motivate myself to wrap up my journey. But with my trip to Asia only a week away, I need to clean the slate. So without further ado I give you the conclusion of The Awkward Traveler in Nicaragua…

I weaseled a few vacation days into my busy schedule of volunteering and I chose to visit the Island of Ometepe for a few days. After avoiding a crazy 9/11 conspiracy spouting Argentine and a bout of seasickness I arrived by boat on this incredible island. Not going to lie, I didn’t have a guide book and I was completely lost, with no idea of where to go and what to do. Safe to say I’ll never leave home without my Lonely Planet again. But, as I walked down the dock looking utterly confused and lost, a group of girls plucked me from obscurity (or sensed my desperation) and invited me to go with them to an isolated hang out on the other side of the island.

We became fast friends and bonded over sunset with our shared love for “Keeping up with the Kardashians.” We decided to cut costs for the night and sleep in hammocks for the low price of $3. Our imagined savings were spent on dinner and plenty of icy cold beer. This is what I love about traveling. I love the backpacker scene, comparing where you’ve been and sharing crazy road stories and I was sad I only had a few days to do the “backpacker thing” in Nicaragua.

After downing plenty liquid courage we decided to go for a skinny dip and it was liberating my friends… (if your an avid reader of my blog, you’ll remember I have an affinity for nude swimming) With the clearest sky I’ve ever seen and plenty of shooting stars, we plunged into the dark lake water, no clothes and no shame. As tends to happen when intoxicated and nude, the conversation turned to ghosts. I got so scared I popped my clothes back on, I didn’t want those ghosts to catch me in my birthday suit!

My quick vacation within a vacation concluded with a treacherous kayak trip to Monkey Island. Those monkeys mean business and they were not the most gracious hosts. After nearly getting jumped by an angry little guy, we got the message and set sail back to our humble Island abode…

I’m falling behind on my blog posting and I want to catch you up, because some real quality stuff is happening right now. But you’ll just have to wait a little bit longer…

After my stay in San Pedro, I headed to El Gallo, right outside Cinco Pinos Nicaragua. It’s basically one street in the middle of the hills that was built as a project after Hurricane Mitch devastated the region. These people live very conflicting lives and I was very confused. On the one hand they are poor people, struggling to get by, working to eat. But one lady had an iPhone that she bought for $350 and then complained to me about how she dreams of having enough money to move to Spain. Also none of the people in this community had areas to shower. Since everyone lived so close there was no privacy so they poured buckets of water on themselves with their clothes on. But on the contrary they owned a microwave, refrigerator, and had cable tv. If it was me I would choose a shower over High School Musical 2. When I asked them what they used the microwave for the best they could come up with was “popcorn.”

My next stop was Versailles, and no not the fancy french town from Marie Antoinette times. This place was a 30 minute horseback ride from the nearest road which was an hour drive to the nearest town. No electricity and no running water. In Versailles as with all of the villages I visited, the farm animals were part of the family. Chickens and pigs would wander in and out of the dirt floored house. Another bonus to a dirt floor is you can spit on it until your heart is content, which my Nicaraguan hosts took much advantage of.

While the people of Versailles are extremely poor, they live in a beautiful setting at the base of the San Cristobal Volcano and a huge Maya Nut forest. I was lucky enough that Miguel took me on the long trek up Central America’s tallest Volcano. It was a 2 hour horseback ride and then another hour hike up the beast. It was smoking when we reached the top and it smelled like rotten farts and eggs. Peeyuuuu.

In America, do you make toasts with glass cups every day?

A little boy in Cinco Pinos, Nicaragua questioned me about our frivolous ways in the States. He admitted that he got the idea from watching TV. See and they say TV doesn’t teach kids anything!

After a flat tire and a lot of waiting I finally made it to the first stop on my Nicaragua Pueblo Tour ’10, San Pedro Del Norte. Perched at the top of a hill, my host’s Ermida’s rustic cottage wasn’t as rough as I was expecting. After a few uses I didn’t even mind the outhouse and the outdoor showers performed by pouring buckets of cold water over my head became refreshing. Who needs modern amenities anyway? Especially when you can still watch telenovelas from the comfort of your very own hammock.

I also got a taste for the meal I would eat over and over again for the next few weeks red beans and rice. The first few times it was heaven, but eating the same meal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner is overkill. Such is the life of a vegetarian in a meat-eaters world.

The adults in the family and town were only nominally interested in me and my work, I think I’ve discovered that my prime audience is the 11 and under set. They seem to can’t get enough of my gringo ways. Ermida’s son, Jamilto became my buddy and we spent my few days there chatting about his school and he asked me questions about the States. While he probably won’t have the chance, I learned that Jamilto wants to be a photographer. I let him go around with my digital camera and he took some pretty good photos for an 11 year old. There’s also a nice shot of his crush posing suggestively in her mothers convenience store…

Do you dye your hair? Why is it so dark? I thought all Americans had light skin and blond hair…

A young Nicaraguan women questions my American authenticity.

It was a long arduous journey from Guatemala to Nicaragua. I spent the entire day travelling through 4 countries, crossing borders, and driving deeper and deeper into extreme heat. I was accopanied the whole way with the 4 Nicaraguan women who would become my hosts. They kept a close eye on me, making sure I staid hydrated and laughing at my misfortunes. When we reached Honduras, we got off our comfy air conditioned bus and continued by pickup truck. There were 5 of us and strangely enough the police will give you trouble if there are more bodies than seatbelts inside of the truck. Being the gentleman, I offered to ride in the back of the pickup truck, hair blowing in the wind, no seatbelt in sight. The police dont seem to have a probem with this…

I enjoyed the sights as we drove through green hills and little pueblitos spotted the side of the road. I was so enraptured I almost didn´t notice when we pulled over to the side. I soon realized we had stopped and saw there was a group of four boys all holding iguanas of various sizes. Some green and some with yellow stripes, all were bound with twine. Oh I thought, I guess maybe one of the ladies wants to pick up a pet for her kids as a souvenir from Honduras. As they chose the best specimen, I sat in the back as a one eyed kid appraoched me and tried to get me to buy his iguana. He quickly realized, along with all of the ladies, that I am terrified of Iguanas. I always have been. Ask Ilan, I hated his pet Iguana Zeeke. He taunted me with the grotesque lizard, as I jumped to the opposite side of the truck, stumbling over the luggage. After I escaped near death at the hands of a hungry Iguana, I soon learned that he would not make a new pet, but would be dinner. Apparently they are illegal to buy as food in Nicaragua, so they smuggle them across the Honduran border. They found our new friend a hiding spot underneath the drivers seat and we continued undiscovered by the border police…