Down the Mountain, by Schu

the photos run in the reverse, and i think i was too busy trying not to be ill to catch the treacherous road down the mountain but there it is.

Early morning start... ok not that early, 8am. The mystery bug still with most of the people. Had a lovely breakfast of eggs,toast,fruit and tea. Said goodbye to our loveable dog that had adopted us and I took one ginger pill and my emergency supply of dramamine. 1 tablet. I being one of the least ill in my car took the back right seat in the van and half way down the lurching, breaking, swerving, swaying less smoothe than a packaderm trip down the mountain my ears were starting to burn. The first telltale sign of being completely off my rocker nauseous. I quick ferreted out another pill and another ginger tablet and made a little lake in my mouth and popped them both in. There was some audible sighs and I might have said, ´´shit¨ a couple of times as my head thwaked against the window. Sleep, without the blue pills was near impossible... as this was a fancy less drowsy pill. We stopped at a shop and I grabbed some soda water and watched a few mountain ducks in a pond and it was back into the van, cursing the quakers and the locals who refuse to pave the road. I defended my position about the pointlessness of suffering in this rustic quaint way, but then Julie said that visiters increased at Machu Picchu once part of the roads there were paved, by 1000 aday... but what do i know.

Stupid Roads!

The 2nd pill started kicking in and I was drowsy and cold by the time we reached Lake Arenal- manmade apparently and supplying 50% of costa rican electricity... who knew. We were ferryed across to what I thought the roadsides of central america should have looked like from the beginning. Lush. But the jungle having been hacked away in most places along all of the drives. Which I think is why I liked Hondurus so much- I just stared out into epic consuming jungleness. But anyway it was a short drive into La Fortuna proper and it was nothing but a sea of luxury retreats and spa get aways. The town is nice and mostly filled with souvenir shops and a really spectacular place to get a good fajita. One of the best things Ive had here.

Unfortunately on our way to the guideoperator shop, before lunch, to arrange optional activities I saw a dog get hit by a car. The number of strays is minimal here compared to the rest of cen am but I suppose statistically it has to happen... but anyway completely traumatizing. Mostly because Julie took it so hard and I myself who actually saw the dog get hit had that dark hard feeling in my chest. As the dog got taken under the wheel it jumped up and yelped a few times as Julie started to dart into the road screaming that we needed to help it, it dropped down dead. And I was so so so thankful. We weren´t equipped to help it and I think the end would have been the same, but it was brutal to hear the cry and it seemed to be staring right at us in pain, with its foot mangled and crying...we had to just keep walking as she sobbed. And just that morning we´d said goodbye to our adopted dog back in monteverde. And then while sitting at the guide shop with Julie brimming with tears and everyone else sort of somber and wanting to forget I looked out a tiny ledge and saw a warbler bird body slamming a small lizard into the cement over and over again. Nature is brutal people, even in all its glory. I could not help but stare wide eyed at the odd correlation of events swimming around me.

And then after lunch it was off to try and find Cath and Isaac and not let the first words out of my mouth be- dead dog. But they´d seen it maybe minutes after so it was still something shared. And all of that passing rapidly away it was strange to see them in this reality. As if something wasn´t quite right. The group. My friends... same place. But seperate. So I spent sometime in their posh place up the road from my hotel soaking my feet in a hot tub, eating pizza and watching bad movies... Then made a dark walk back to my hotel, peering around nervously ocassionally as I passed the graveyard and then the massive ant colony, wondering where exactly I was and what had happened.

Santa (bonus post)

Though its already fast becoming a blur, I will quick tell you about the secret santa, since you 2 wanted to know... it was a high pressure deal of $5 and a trip to an artisan market, which was small... julie said lets meet back in an hour and that didn´t seem nearly so long as it should- and some guy latched himself onto me and tried to get money by taking me to all the shops-- as if! and then some old woman kept petting my back and begging for money... at the end point she said something i think spiteful about Americans and I gave her the stink eye. But I digress. There was a large inflatable Santa in our hotel lobbey. And we were to wrap the gifts in newspaper or whatever we could find, colorful plastic bags from the snack shops... mine was in a newspaper poorly tied with a palm frond but I think it was a drunken effort and definitely from a guy... funny. I think everyone liked their gifts... tshirts, trinkets, belts, and a wallet, a sarang... and coffee. A pretty good conglamoration. I kept telling everyone who mine was and asking for help, not that I was mining for who had me. I probably will offer the gift I got to the masses. It´s a cute souvenir wallet but someone might use it more, or I will- it makes no matter. As Christmas didn´t seem to exist here for me without friends and family it didn´t really make a difference¿ Or rather there was no expectation... but just some good intentioned fun. And it was nice. And my group is really quite full of lovely people.

Monteverde Cloud Forest (pum)

Border Crossings (pum)

Ometepe (pum)

San Juan Del Sur (pum)

Granada (pics u missed)

Masaya Volcano: Pics you Missed (granada)

The Quetzal

Type: Bird
Diet: Omnivore
Size: Body, 15 to 16 in (38 to 40.5 cm); Tail, 24 in (61 cm)
Weight: 7 to 8 oz (200 to 225 g)
Protection status: Threatened


The resplendent quetzal is an aptly named bird that many consider among the world's most beautiful. These vibrantly colored animals live in the mountainous, tropical forests of Central America where they eat fruit, insects, lizards, and other small creatures.

During mating season, male quetzals grow twin tail feathers that form an amazing train up to three feet (one meter) long. Females do not have long trains, but they do share the brilliant blue, green, and red coloring of their mates. Male colors tend to be more vibrant.

Resplendent quetzal pairs use their powerful beaks to hollow hole nests in rotted trees or stumps. Inside, they take turns incubating two or three eggs—though males have such long tails that they sometimes stick outside the nest.

Young quetzals can fly at about three weeks of age, but males do not begin to grow their long tail plumes for three years.

Resplendent quetzals are also known as Guatemalan quetzals, and the birds are the symbol of that nation. Guatemala also trades in currency known as the "quetzal".

Unfortunately, these striking birds are threatened in Guatemala and elsewhere throughout their range. They are sometimes trapped for captivity or killed, but their primary threat is the disappearance of their tropical forest homes. In some areas, most notably Costa Rica's cloud forests, protected lands preserve habitat for the birds and provide opportunities for ecotourists and eager bird watchers from around the globe.

Such admirers continue a long history of adoration for the quetzal. The bird was sacred to the ancient Maya and Aztec peoples, and royalty and priests wore its feathers during ceremonies.

Have Fun, Dont Die, by Schu

I know seriously, I actually did this. What the hell. At first the place I wanted was fully booked and then I was peer pressured into "Extremo"... I thought, dear god, what the hell am I doing. I do not exaggerate that these are the actual views. Though lugging my camera along as I trekked up mountain trails, and even they do not do it justice to the depth and height of propelling yourself above Gods green earth... and then hurdling at high speed seemed less than a stellar idea so I can not furnish you with evidence. Except, seriously, what was I thinking!

But ok, heres the thing, Im sitting in the office feeling whiny that the one I wanted was full and then this one they say, ok, theres room, but theres a weight limit. Awesome. Which granted in the back of my mind I knew, and was prepared for, but the reality of being too heavy for an activity is still a blow to selfesteem and the slow but progressive weightloss made so far. Im trying! I want to scream out. And then have a tantrum. I say to my tactful guide Martin, I am undertheweightlimit but JUST barely. Hes like well if youre under, youll be fine... but secretly all night Im thinking up rejection scenarios, involving the finger of death, columns of smoke, and sacrificing myself to a volcano, just so I dont have to hear those skinny bitches go, aw, saaaad. And Im already saying it myself anyway, aw, youre sad.

So people thought it was nerves, but really it was fear of rejection, grappling with fat, selfesteem, image, and ýah, snapping wires and falling to a grizzly and painful death. Not to mention the food in Monteverde mostly sucks and is overpriced. Sure I had a spectacular chocolate milkshake last night but the quesidilla was crap and tonight they had the nerve to sell me dark meat on a chicken and call it a filet. Insulted I tell you!

But anyway, we start the day with an idyllic nature hike, half the group taken out by the mystery illness, and the rest slog through and take the place completely for granted and Im trying my hand at American enthusiasm and asking all sorts of questions. We do spot the rare quetzal- which is a gorgeous bird. If I had a proper (ahem) support team Id be able to tell you more, though it is the holidays. (Ahem). We saw a badger type things, various birds and a trantula and all in all it was just my speed. Meandering through nature. Going to hummingbird outlooks and petting the mossy trees and taking pictures of Julie eating a medicinal plant thats suppose to help with nausea. But for all that, its gorgeous and messy and hard to capture and I suppose easy to gloss over the fact that monkeys exist and are trapseing above the forest canopy completly out of your reach.

Naturally needing extremes I had time to grab a last meal and be one with the soaring vultures. I again, head hanging low and dogearred, got into the van to meet my doom, thinking, obviously everyone must be thinking im too fat to be here... but as it was it melted away and I was being trussed up, harnassed, and reassured that I was going to have a good time... and my pulse started doublestepping it, as I deepbreathed and shook my head and repeatedly with each line, each flight of stairs and winding path, my god, my god, what have i done!

As each one you conquer your fear of death only to be faced with it again, 10minutes later. Truly these lines were epic and spanned the canyon. A few smaller... hopping here and there... trudge trudge trudge... and you go through a routine, is this harness getting more uncomfortable, the guide asks if youre having a good time, you like a zombie nod yes. They hook you, they unhook you and you face falling, you face getting stuck in the middle of amile in no mans land, feeling like icarus.

Not to say it was all life and death and routine... there was a few hairy incidents where, because of my weight i did have to go full tilt or risk getting stuck, and likewise the skinny folks at times had to pair up because they were too light. During one particular moment I was coming to fast but the sun was high and the guide was shaded and yes, I "tried" to "stop"... since the guide only gives you 2 signs- speed up, or, slow the fuck down youre going to die. So naturally I cant quite tell what hes saying until the hands go out like hes a wall to my macktruck... and my tattered glove almost comes off as I press on the wire, getting jerked around by the friction, but hey, I made it, with half the runway left. I heave a sigh of relief and everyone starts talking about how nervous the guides got, then David arrives right after and says, You were going FAST! Death ZERO. SCHU 1.

Then there was another long one where, I followed the guides directions and stopped but too much so, and became stalled about 30ft out, to avoid a collision. He being a macho and resiliant 16 yr old thought hed just zip out and haul my tonofbricks in. Oh not so mi amigo. I was doing fine on my own until you showed up. So then naturally they send another person hurdling toward me and well I get back alright but 4 people all twined together get stranded 100ft out, and naturally the plucky and arrogant muchacho zips out to save them. Right. We cheered them on but David who was already ill was pushed to the limit, dangling and twisting in space. And the guide several times had to stop and rest and tip backwards as hed bitten off more than he could chew. But in the end we all made it and the rest was smoothe sailing...

Until it came time to repel... which basically means they kick you off a ledge and tell you to hold on. I burned up a portion of glove trying to slow down. Yes, I admit, trust exercises... I have my limits... But having survived the 2 story drop we soldiered on up and up to the ominous "Tarzan Swing" where we heard Harriettes blood curdling scream as she was pushed from the ledge and hurdled free flying twisting into space. At this point David was really hoping Id back out so he could, but when Harriette said, SCHU, youve come this far, it lit an automatic switch in my brain to keep going. She said, scream. I said I dont scream...

And as the guide said, bend your knees, and off the platform I went, ripping through the air and closer and closer to a massive tree, I gasped and then yelled with echoing bellow strength, OHHHH MMYYYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!

holyshit.
fuck.
oh
my
god
i could kiss that tree
fuck
ohmygod.

They cheered me on and as my weighted benefit momentum eventually started coming to rest it was time for the guides to catch me in a black harness... the first time failed and I swung and swung, and lowered my legs for drag then got suckered in by the waist and caught flailing like a fish as mz release was stuck and tangled up, but eventually, shaking with adreneline and harassed for my Valley Oh, M-Gawd, ways, I was cheered and happy to be done with it. And not too nauseous either.

To lull us into a false sense of finish we sat and sat and then climbed and climbed to be confronted with the last 3 lines. I said, Great, 3 more chances to die. David said, thats a bit grim.

2 down and the big mammoth one to go again I went full tilt into space, legs bent, ankles crossed, not breaking until the end, looking out over the valley, recognizing my madness but in awe over the epic wildnerness and the exileration of me suspended on a wire with only the birds went, left me feeling dazed and in a dream. The guide said, you landed good, very good. Like a pro. Im sure he says that to everyone but I tipped them well anyway and was giddy and high the whole way home. But tomorrow besides the buses and 2 ferry crossings, this girl is going to hover low to the ground for a while, munch on grass, and only look up at passing cars or perhaps someone calling me, and telling me, youre so far from finished... next, youll know what its like to rush through water... But not for a few days yet anzway. Its time to rest.

hitting the trail . . .

toes are painted, litter is changed, seeds and nuts have been purchased, bags are packed and I and me are on our way to Costa Rica . . . .

On the Fence

The blue pill still in effect I had no trouble with the mountainous wending way up up up to the breezy, drizzling Monteverde. This place was a hopping chalk full of tourists type of town. A mix of snotty adventerous types and familys on holiday... so obnoxious are we that the quakers refused to have the road paved up, thinking that at least dirt might keep tourism down... I disagree. The people who would come up are going to come up regardless. The road would have to get a lot worse then a few near treacherous drops and giant mud holes. Our van, a.c off and trundling up the mountain like a pack animal.

David (one of the brits) and mountain climbers of the weekend, had a couple projectile hurtling stops and close calls. Which heralded the demise of health of at least 6 people on the tour. I shudder to think air bourne virus... But we landed in a small hotel place and met a cute local dog that didnt seem rabid and was pretty wonderful. We were told of course no dogs in the rooms so kidnapping was out. I suppose it was best.

Im killing time now before we go ziplining... and ill have time to blog all about that tonight if I survive. The one I wanted to go on was sold out and the one Im going on is apparently less spectacular of a forest but faster... uh, huh. Yah. Theres no time for the butterfly farm and I suppose I could always put the frog farm on credit card... how many does one get to see in a lifetime-- I said no to the serpentorium having been to a pretty fantastic one in NC.

So Ill say goodbye for now as this keyboard is all funked up and the bus is coming in a 1.2 hour. I just have time to get some soda water and say my prayers. Check in on my ailing friends and try not to think about plummeting to my death. Im thrilled at my decision to go, no really, Im sure its going to be great.

Sigh.

Godforsaken Island

Along with my ginger pills, with every ferry crossing I take some mysterious blue pills. And they knock me right out, so that when the ferry guy pokes me hard with his finger, I resent it and point upstairs to where the rest of the team is sitting... getting tan, frolicking, whatever, just not sea sick. And I close my blood shot eyes and go back to sleep, getting hit by seaspray and leaving myself open to robbers. The first time though I woke up and it took me a while to realize my bag was in a pool of seawater, I just hope that the spare socks and underwear and travel documents spared the more priceless items like my phone. The next time I learned my lesson, and put my bag on the bench, still waking up to curious stares from the locals, but I was dry...

We traveled to Ometepe. The land of two mountains. Except when we got there we found out the beach was under 6ft of water and a perpetual and violent windstorm didnt show signs of abating. And being trapped on an island even if it is in Nicaragua means they can charge unreasonable prices for some of the best grilled chicken Ive had, which was like $8. The fresh pineapple juice was also good. But basically that was my central activity. Eating. And 2 days was a blow to my budget...so I charged it. Sleeping in a hammock was my 2nd main activity... Meandering around watching Magpie Jays and seeing how drunk the two old guys were going to get was 3rd... Exploring boredom while other more silly people climbed a near 45 degree mountain face of Concepcion, was the basic theme. Their vigor was taken with a vengence as most of them are curiously ill and vomiting... we cant figure out what it was between them. But the poor souls are hobbling around the mountainous Monteverde now.

I cant say we were sad to leave the island, even though in its visceral moments it was awesomely, I dont know... atmospheric. Everything just whipped up and moving and in a loud frenzy, restless and consuming were the waves and everzthing in motion. We trudged ourselves out of bed around 6am on Sunday, van to the ferry, ferry to the taxis, to the van, where apparently we had the fastest border crossing ever from Nicaragua to Costa Rica, flipping up mud on our heels and legs and making it to the land of tourists and shopping centers. Theres something relaxing about civilazation as we know it, like you dont have to think about anything ever, but then its fairly boring also... something hesitant and inviting about shacks and ramshackled cement places, not so with uniform spanish tiling and gigantic shopping centers that met us near the border. They asked me if it was like american shopping centers.. i said, mostly like the ones near the southern beaches... but you know the a-c would be going stronger, and theyd have more to chose from then just azul for your pens, and cadberry for your chocolate, but itd have to do.

Christmas Snow Caps

A broken port robs you of pictures, alas. I am back from the land of no internet. To recap: Christmas Eve included me going out dancing under duress, because it was going to be fun they said, including Harriet who said she had to have me there, but almost immediately could not resist the allure of the hot danish guy, and so ran off and left me. Whatevs. Just know that I was on a 2nd story open bar with the wind whipping through the dark wood frames, in a flowee white skirt, and the rain intermittently dashing in, and julie and I created a dance space and moved to the beat all night long, until people started making out, and that girl over there was crying in the corner and they played one too many hiphop songs and somebody spilled Matt's drink. They all said I could move my hips. And I agree.

Christmas day included a trip to a secluded beach where the sand is so fine it adheres to you without provocation and were the Aussie Anna got attacked by a jelly fish. And something mysterious swiped at my ankle. And left a wound. Tempted to pee on it too? Maybe. It did not stop us from drinking rum out of pineapple husks however. I then caught a shuttle back to avoid a 30min crap walk. Who wants to do that after laying out all day and drinking? Not I. Even if it was just a little bit. Which left me at the lovely Mango Resort to swim without fear of death by fish in the warm waters of a pool as the sunset blazed. And then sometime after a pretty fabulous, even if pricey, Turkey dinner replete with stuffing, whipped mash and all sorts of wonderful.

We also had secret santa and plenty of toasts. I told Martin the tour leader that we should get a birthday cake and sing to Jesus but he didn't quite understand why, and so insisted on telling us about Fredrick the mouse enjoying spring and not collecting food, bcs he was so busy basking in the freedom of every day things... though the tale is somewhat convoluted as it ended with an expensive dinner at a resort but I digress. I think in hindsight after all the comings and goings, it was a pretty fabulous Christmas. Happy Birthday Jesus.

Feliz Navidad!

Wishing you peace, joy, and lots more fun as your adventure continues! Miss you Schu!!!

On the Eve of?

There are signs of Christmas, even in the ragandtag tumbled down Central America. Crowded with ramshackled buildings, belching smoke, a glorious consuming jungle. There are jingle bells and fireworks and girls wearing wedding dresses. There are poinsettias growing wild and spindly red. There are through each open door a dim and shadowy cool courtyard, a glowing Christmas Tree, usually fake. There are the lights hanging on various bars in all the various byways, through mountains and on the beach towns. There are the giant snowglobes and the monolithic inflated Santa at our current hotel and all the silver clustered bangled ornamentations. But mostly it is some other kind of holiday, away from the routine, letting myself be recorded upon only to find out what plays later. . . is that the gift...

Today there was 2 chicken buses and bags hoisted up and down. Noisy tourists and a loud speaking foreigner right next to my ear right now. The others have gone on a boat tour and fishing expedition and I'm not pushing my luck. And I've got to blog don't I. As all the journel entries I've tried to write lay untouched in the land of night fatigue, telemundo and hbo. So I've bought some souvenirs and a bottle of Flor de Cana and am going to wander maybe 2 blocks around the town. Tomorrow is the nice beach and hammock land... and our secret santa exchange.

By Land, By Sea, By Schu

The girl could not decide what to do. Boat tour. City tour? But the girl chose kayaking. She spent the morning flirting with a big green parrot named ZsaZsa and eating massive portions of eggs, bacon and hash. And as an afterthought swallowed a reluctant ginger pill in preparation for a hopefully idyllic river wander?

The girl then boarded the van with the other more animated and plucky adventurers and all eyes widened at the white wake on the water. The lake wasn't calm and the girl grew afraid that she had once again chosen folly over a wiser course. With trepidation she left her bag in the van and was one of the last to launch in the gritty sludge and reeds of the bank.

With a deep breath she took to the paddle and asked where they were going. Martin replied, follow the guide. Yes well, but where are we going?! So massive the lake, so deep the swells. The girl did not want to be lost forever at sea and the kayak itself, yellow, fiber glass and the rim closed in, though sea worthy did not seem the best at capsizing gracefully. She could only hope to hit calmer water and closer banks soon.

The girl remembered to keep the balance in her core and later shifted her legs back and forth with not too much anxiety. Still, prayers were muttered, and her friends now clearly keened in to her motion sick self, are you ok? Are you enjoying it? How are you doing? Good. Bueno, the girl smiled and nodded, quietly, possibly with an air of reserve that disaster at any moment could befall her. She wasn't concerned about anyone but herself, as it now seemed a concurrent running theme.

And then they hit the quiet channels of the lake buffeted by island baracades. Trees dipped low into the water and her kayak guided quietly over lily pads, near roots dangling from trees. The girl glanced out into the open and through the tall grasses and parrot screeching. A boy cast a net and dove in the water to anchor it to the bottom of the bank. Dogs barked from the saftey of homes, and rowboats passed with the look of, so, you odd bunch in the small boats, what do you think you're doing here exactly? The guide asked if she kayaked before. An inditement or? No, a compliment. You look good. You professional. And the girl glowed with pride. She would take this little bit and carry it home with her. Snd then rolled her eyes now at the reprecusions of looking like she knew what she was doing. No panic. Only grace. Smoothe, fluid movements. A cool head. The form and move, just right. Nothing goes wrong when you know what you're doing.

But the calm only lasted in the moments where she was protected and with each island came a treacherous inlet to be crossed, where she had to dig her paddle deep, and think about conserving energy for the trip back. Mercifully they came to a restaurant on the water with fresh coconuts and club soda. So the girl disembarked, keeping low to the rocks, thankful at not capsizing with each breath. There was the unpleasant smell of burning rubbish. A popular thing to do apparently, even in a wouldbe paradise. But the spray of the water and the fizz of her drink kept the thoughts of the return trip at bay. Lunch would be small then and made up of bird things.

And when the wind had calmed they came to a small island with monkeys that could not escape it. Water locked they were and fed by tourists. She had seen worse cages but there was the one monkey who had no tail- that had tried to cross the phone lines draping suspect and high above the water. The lines felt like home even over water against the blue sky, but she could not help but be sad for the monkeys. And then the horse carts that keep the colonial charm but seem far too skinny...

And then the girl thought, ok, just a bit more to go and back, but they stopped at a fort. And the girl grew impatient and thought, again, I have to get out again!? She tumbled onto the high launch, straining the guides balancing skills and made her way to the fort and climbed the steep high stairs to the top, to the idyllic view of some volcano rimmed with clouds and the sparkling water and the trees bowing at the breeze. Pirates, ok. Yes. Spanish. English. There's the canon. Then the guide gave all the girls these things that looked like sticks but when you opened them were beautiful flowers. Had a gorgeous fragrance. There were pictures taken. Her adventure hat raked to the side- dashing. And now it was back to the water, sleepy from the sun and hungry. She could not even regret the dancing all night in her last night in Leon- a rum shot, mojito, something, something and silly dance tunes, the motion of that compartively calmer than all those waves and moving water.

But the wind had died down on the surface of the water and her kayak tired and logged down with a passanger of dubious merriment, trudged with one stroke after the next, trailing everyone. The girl sighed loudly, let her hands trail in the water. Where are we going exactly? Is there some point? Is that the shack? Is this the way? And the girl made it to land and smiled.

Only to be pushed onto a chicken bus several hours later on a return trip from a decent but small artisan market which left her walking blocks and blocks following speedy gonzalez. She did at one point help a man at the back of the bus from tumbling out of it, as the emergency door was open and the man- manning the back had gone up to the top as they roared down the road. It was entertaining, and the capsizing was different. The negotation of people and things around her moving instead of she. And she got to watch and hear the whistles and calls and the baskets flying and the people hailing as she leaned and bumped against on solid rattling high speed moving ground.

The chicken curry she had for dinner and the fireworks exploding all around her seemed tame in comparison.

Persephone

We arrived in Granada and left its parallel sister Leon. These waring brothers could not be more different. And the conservative Granada, mellow, quiet side of town with fireworks but less people, clearly defined colonial architecture and all the rest that screams tourist, and also a bit of peace. I know my speed. And shoo the peddlers away, non, non, non. And continue suping my club soda. And in siesta moments inclining my head down the slope of the street to the massive freshwater sea, mascarading as a lake. (Nicaragua).

After just a couple hours downtime it was time for our next excursion. Another Volcano. I thought, yes, I did sign up for the "volcano adventure" but so much direct interaction with the pacific rim of fire seemed overkill. Yes, belching smoke. Ok. Gritty black sand. Lava. Active. Dormant. Signs this way and that to volcano, volcano, volcano. Ok enough, I said, with the wave of my hand. Lo siento. I'm sorry. I give in.

And yet, we keep going. When the guide pointed the way up these winding stairs, to a cross, overlooking a crater, I was like oh, dios mio. Here we go again. So I took the back and me and my now bum of a left leg hobbled to the top to hear about poisonous sulfur gas and various smoking craters... yes, yes, volcanos are cool. Whatever.

Hobble down.

Then the guide led us up another far bigger dormant crater to point out the trees and parrots and I muttered, oh how i love being the last one, now prone to motion sickness and various, schu? are you ok? comments. A complete reversal of being. I made it to the top, only about 10 min, but then refused to summit the top steep peak, as I said to myself, yes you know how far you can go. Enough is enough. I don't know why all tourist destinations must include epic vistas and sunsets. But they must. And so martin our plucky but crazy swiss tour leader vaulted up the peak to explain that well, the girl down there, has bad knees now and asthma and god knows what, a bad leg, and she's not coming up with us and it was all because of Pacaya. So she feels she does not need to reach the top anymore but 3/4 of the way is fine. And the longer, less steep way down would be nice as well.

Then not to be done to soon... We went down to a batcave, literally all of them flitting about, and then yet another cave where massive tree roots trailed the ground and walls like piping. I forgot my camera in the hotel unfortunately so my glorious descriptions of the pocked and pointed floor, and the stalagited ceilings will just have to do. As we tramped through mud and I blinded everyone with my flash mercilessly in the dark. I was that girl.

And then the guide had us sit in the pitch dark at the back of the cave for a minute and I found the silence to be roaring in my ears and I didn't like it. By then my legs were muddy and the guide in broken english was saying something about families living down here or child sacrifices. I'm not quite sure but it seemed grim. And I thanked my helmet as I went clunk against an overhang and scrambled out on my hands.

Walking back was the most beautiful moment though, luminous clouds and stars peaking through as we walked the narrow path up and out, through the field, only to put on gas masks and see the glowing furnace below.

And then it was Pizza at the MonaLisa... What does it matter though, once you've eaten Mexican food, the various nuances of central american cuisine can really be done without. Can the same be said of volcanos?

December Celebrations in Nicaragua

Schu asked for a post today, so she gets a post today! One I copied and pasted. : )

In Nicaragua the end of the year is tied to a lot of traditional celebrations, some of them celebrated all over the world and others related to the Nicaraguan culture and history.

The last month of the year is full of parties, happiness, family traditions, and religion. Massive processions take place all over the country. An inevitable and popular aspect is the gunpowder used in fireworks and firecrackers that loudly accompany the Nicaraguan celebrations.

Read more to learn about big traditional celebrations happening in Nicaragua during the last month of the year.

La Purísima

During colonial times, the Spanish brought their religious catholic fervor to Nicaragua, which was embraced in an incredible way by the natives (obviously after being imposed), with a mystical character and intense piety. This is how the popular religious Nicaraguan festivities were born, and in December ‘La Purísima’ is celebrated, one of the most widespread celebrations.

Imagine ‘La Purísima’ like this: a richly decorated altar is placed in a corner of a family house, with a statue of the Virgin Mary‘s image. In front of this altar, a lot of chairs are arranged, that will be occupied by family members, friends, and neighbors invited by the house owners to celebrate its ‘Purísima’. Once all the guests arrive, the celebration starts with prayers to the virgin, but these are alternated with traditional songs. All the assistants accompany with whistles, tambourines and other instruments. While this takes place inside the house, outside some family members fire rockets and the so called ‘caraga cerrada’, (firecrackers) that contribute a lot to the boisterous celebration. Meanwhile the singings and prayers take place, the host distributes to his/her guests fruits, traditional sweets, caramels, traditional drinks, sugar-cane and many other gifts.

‘La Purísima’ is a celebration to the ‘purest conception of Virgin Mary’, taking place on December 8th, according to the catholic calendar. ‘La Purísima’ is a tradition celebrated in all parts of Nicaragua by thousands of Nicaraguan families. These celebrations take place at the end of November and during almost all of December.

‘Purísimas’ are made for devotion or for gratitude to miracles that persons attribute to Virgin Mary. The families, or a couple of members of a family, realize a "novenario" of prayers to the virgin lasting nine days. Sometimes, the first eight days the prayers are private, but the ninth one is celebrated as described previously, but every family puts a little of their own style. It is interesting how each family inherits the image of the virgin from their ancestors; some of these images have been in the same family over a century.

Nowadays, the ‘Purísimas’ are also celebrated by big enterprises and institutions, and even by Nicaraguans living abroad or by Nicaraguan embassies.

La Gritería

Directly related to ‘La Purísima’, this other tradition, called ‘La Gritería, is more boisterous and more massive.

At 6PM every December 7th, a common yell is heard in different cathedrals and churches: Quién causa tanta alegría? (Who causes so much happiness?). This is how another ancient tradition starts along with the massive response ‘La Concepción de María’ (Mary’s Conception).

At that time, in cities and towns people start exploding fireworks and firecrackers. In the biggest cities, it gets so noisy that any uninformed tourist might think that a war has just started in Nicaragua. At midnight, firecrackers explode once again (the same happens at 6AM and 12PM, but on a smaller scale).

During ‘La Gritería’ Virgen Mary is also venerated. It is a celebration used by people to thank the virgin for miracles and it takes place before the official day. Faithful people decorate altars in their houses in a place were it can be seen from the street. In some neighborhoods you can find more than three altars in just one block.

Then, at 6PM sharp, thousands of Nicaraguans go to the streets to ‘shout’ to the virgin (the word gritería could be translated as ‘shouting’), which means visiting each altar and singing to the virgin Maria. This is basically how it is done: people hang around in groups, stop at an altar, intone traditional songs (the same as in ‘La Purísima’), house owners give fruits, candies, toys, instruments to make noise, natural drinks, and other type of gifts; finally, they move on to another altar. House owners who have placed altars wait until another group comes to sing. This is how ‘La Gritería’ is celebrated, lasting until the house owners have no more gifts to give away or until streets have no more singers.

Not only Catholics and religious people participate in this tradition. It is interesting to hear how people who do not know the songs’ lyrics make up the whole song or just sing the end of each phrase. This is a good opportunity for poor people to collect items, and it is interesting to see how people from different social classes participate in ‘La Gritería’

Christmas

Celebrating Christmas is a mixture of traditional Nicaraguan practices with other elements that have become Christmas icons all over the world.

Christmas has two main characters: one is Santa Clause or ‘Santa’ and the other is Baby Jesus. The climax of this celebration is midnight of December 24th.

From the last days of November you can see how Christmas symbols take over houses, firms, streets, and many other places. Many families put a well-known symbol in their living room: a pine tree (not a natural one due to the climate), decorated with light bulbs, colored spheres, bells and other types of decoration.

Another inevitable symbol is ‘El Nacimiento’ (‘Nativity sets’): small statuettes representing the moment of Jesus’ birth with Joseph, Virgin Mary, shepherds, and domestic animals. Nativity sets are placed in houses and churches, but also in the avenues and rotaries, or in receptions of commercial buildings. Some people leave the Nativity set without Baby Jesus’ image, which they place until the first hours of December 25th.

Christmas is a family celebration in which many Nicaraguan families gather to enjoy a special dinner. In some houses, children are sent to bed early because Santa’s myth is still maintained: this chubby, good old man bringing gifts to everyone. At midnight children are woken up so they can open up their gifts to see what Santa brought them.

In other families, children are told to write a letter to Baby Jesus, writing all gifts or special wishes that they want. These letters are used as a shopping guide for their parents. Gifts are also opened at midnight, during Jesus’ Birthday.

As a general tradition, at midnight, gunpowder explosions are heard everywhere from fireworks and firecrackers. The ‘Christmas Hug’ is also another general tradition. Family members, friends and neighbors hug each other as a sign of reconciliation.

During Christmas Eve appetizers are served, but the official dinner is not served until midnight. Before the dinner a toast is made.

Obviously, there will be small variations in every family within this same tradition. An interesting detail is the ‘Christmas Soup’ prepared mainly in the city of Bluefields: after the official mass in Vatican City, inhabitants of Bluefields invite everyone to enjoy their soups, celebrating Christmas in this way.


Religious Traditions

Many religious celebrations also take place during the last month of the year.

‘Lavada de la Plata’ (Cleaning the silverware): One of the most popular celebrations takes place in the town of ‘El Viejo’ in Chinandega. During this celebration, on December 6th, thousands of Nicaraguans and people from neighboring countries come to visit the basilica of ‘El Viejo’. After the mass at 9AM, the image of the Virgin, is taken down from its thrown in order to wash silver pieces (plates, cups, coins, etc) that form the Virgin’s treasure. These pieces have been given to the Virgin by many believers throughout centuries. This is done in Nicaragua since the first colonial years.

A group of ladies together with the priest washes the silverware, while attendants pray or just observe this ritual that represents the cleanliness of the spirit’s impurities.

Procession of the Virgin: Another more widespread tradition is the procession of the Virgin, realized by diverse churches in cities and towns of Nicaragua. In each of these churches the image of the Virgin is lowered solemnly, which is taken through neighborhoods in a multitudinous procession. This is done during nine days, generally ending on December 8, the day of the Virgin.

Las Posadas: In Masaya, Granada and other towns people celebrate the ‘Posadas’. From some churches, the priest and other believers accompany disguised children who represent Joseph, Mary and some shepherds. They go from door to door and sing popular folk songs asking for a place because ‘Mary is going to give birth’, and from inside the house the children are answered with popular folk songs denying them the entry, as it happened in Bethlehem according to the Bible. Finally, a door opens and Holly Family may enter. This occurs during nine days.

Shepherdesses: Another popular celebration in Masaya is the one called ‘Pastorcillas’ (Shepherdesses), taking place on December 20th. Here a couple of children dressed as Mary and Joseph walk in streets followed by small girls (between 5 and 10 years old) dressed up as Biblical shepherdesses.

Regional celebrations: In other parts of Nicaragua, the end of the year coincides with their regional celebrations called ‘Fiestas Patronales’. For example, in Catarina, Masaya, they celebrate Saint Sylvester parties. During this party, there is a procession behind the image of the Saint, who covers the whole village, accompanied by music and fireworks.

History

Traditional religious celebrations were brought to Nicaragua by Spanish colonizers. Then, they were adapted and modified in the so called ‘mestizaje’ (mixture of cultures). Here we present some background of these celebrations.

In the year 1562, a Spaniard who was traveling to Peru was forced to remain for certain period in the port of The Realejo, Nicaragua, because of a tropical thunderstorm. He moved to the nearest village of ‘El Viejo’ to wait for the storm to calm down. In addition to his baggage, he was carrying a beautiful image of Virgin Mary. He placed the image in the local basilica. The presence of the image was known rapidly in the region and many Indians and mestizos traveled from far away just to see, pray and venerate the image.

The virgin was very popular, so much, that when the owner decided that it was the moment to leave and to take his virgin, many people went to dismiss her with sadness to the port. A new thunderstorm provoked the nobleman to return to ‘El Viejo’. This was much celebrated by the settlers and the gentleman assumed that it was a divine will that the virgin should remain in ‘El Viejo’. The good man therefore decided to leave the image and to depart without it.

The celebration of ‘La Purísima’, according to ancient documents, was born in the city of León at the beginnings of the 18th century. Monks of the San Francisco convent were attracting children and believers with caramels and fruits to sing to the virgin. Too many people came to sing, and the monks suggested to the assistants to start celebrating the singings and prayers to the virgin inside people’s houses. The tradition spread to Granada and Masaya, and then to the rest of Nicaragua.

According to information of catholic organizations in Nicaragua, ‘La Gritería’ began in 1857 when Monsignor Giordano Carranza recommended believers to shout the phrase “the purest conception of Maria!” from house to house, throughout León:.The tradition spread and soon some composers created the canticles that are used nowadays.

LEON

This weekend, SchuMustTravel finds herself in LEON (how does one *do* accents when blogging in America? there’s supposed to be one over the “O”), Nicaragua. From Wiki:

León is the second largest city in Nicaragua, after Managua. It was founded by the Spaniards as Santiago de los Caballeros de León and rivals Granada, Nicaragua [where Schu heads tomorrow], in the number of historic spanish colonial homes and churches…

León is located along the Río Chiquito (Chiquito River), some 50 miles northwest of Managua, and some 11 miles east of the Pacific Ocean coast. The drive from Managua takes less than 90 minutes. Although less populous than Managua, León has long been the intellectual center of the nation, with its university founded in 1813. León is also an important industrial, agricultural (sugar cane, cattle, peanut, plantane, sorghum) and commercial center for Nicaragua.

The first city named León in Nicaragua was established in 1524 by Francisco Hernández de Córdoba about 20 miles east of the present site. The city was abandoned in 1610, after an eruption of the Momotombo volcano, located only a couple miles away, which left extensive damage in the form of flooding from Lake Managua. The inhabitants decided to move to its current location next to the Indigenous town of Subtiava. The ruins of the abandoned city are known as "León Viejo" and were excavated in 1960. In the year 2000, León Viejo was declared an UNESCO World Heritage Site.

León has fine examples of Spanish Colonial architecture, including the grand Cathedral of the Assumption, built from 1706 to 1740, with two towers added in 1746 and 1779.

When Nicaragua withdrew from the United Provinces of Central America in 1839, León became the capital of the new nation of Nicaragua. For some years the capital shifted back and forth between León and Granada, Nicaragua, with Liberal regimes preferring León and Conservative ones Granada, until as a compromise Managua was agreed upon to be the permanent capital in 1858.

In 1950 the city of León had a population of 31,000 people. Nicaraguan President Anastasio Somoza García was shot and mortally wounded in the city on September 21, 1956.

The building of El museo de tradiciones y leyendas was once the infamous XXI jail before the 1979 revolution. There are also several political murals around the city.