After a lifetime of world travel I’ve been fascinated that those in the third world don’t have the same perception of reality that we do. – Jim Harrison
Monday, June 4, 2012 (DAYS 92 & 93)
After only one day in the colonial town of Leon, and the consensus to depart for the nearest beach town of Las Penitas is a unanimous family decision. Packing up for the short 20-minute ride continues to be an ordeal as I attempt to squeeze, smash, and stuff items in every available free space in my bag. I’m convinced that whenever this great might journey end, under the special skills section of a job application or my resume I will have to include ninja-like packing abilities. You want a watermelon to fit neatly in your fanny pack? Not a problem, let’s also add three tied off plastic bags of juice, a live chicken, and a basket of banana bread. The things I continue to experience in these third world countries is both an eye-opening education and a humbling way of life that carries an entirely different perception in the appreciation of things. I am truly grateful for the life I have lead thus far, and am even more excited for where life will take me in the daily adventure that is free from the cookie-cutter mold of routinely living an existence of the social norm. Living out of a backpack to some would be the epitome of hitting rock bottom in life, but I’ve realized that it is more freeing to live with less to experience more. Stacking the last of our bags near the front reception area, Cam and I begin a game of pool while waiting for the shuttle and I can’t help but think what a great Monday morning this is turning out to be.
After only one day in the colonial town of Leon, and the consensus to depart for the nearest beach town of Las Penitas is a unanimous family decision. Packing up for the short 20-minute ride continues to be an ordeal as I attempt to squeeze, smash, and stuff items in every available free space in my bag. I’m convinced that whenever this great might journey end, under the special skills section of a job application or my resume I will have to include ninja-like packing abilities. You want a watermelon to fit neatly in your fanny pack? Not a problem, let’s also add three tied off plastic bags of juice, a live chicken, and a basket of banana bread. The things I continue to experience in these third world countries is both an eye-opening education and a humbling way of life that carries an entirely different perception in the appreciation of things. I am truly grateful for the life I have lead thus far, and am even more excited for where life will take me in the daily adventure that is free from the cookie-cutter mold of routinely living an existence of the social norm. Living out of a backpack to some would be the epitome of hitting rock bottom in life, but I’ve realized that it is more freeing to live with less to experience more. Stacking the last of our bags near the front reception area, Cam and I begin a game of pool while waiting for the shuttle and I can’t help but think what a great Monday morning this is turning out to be.
The short drive to the remote beach town in our fashionable shuttle that boasts air conditioning is actually hot recycled air being circulated in our faces from the vents just above our heads, and already each of my legs are stuck to the person on both my right and left. Thoughts of jumping in the ocean sustain me from instigating a Vancouver style riot against the heat and playing DJ with my iPod helps calm the current situation, otherwise I might have gone medieval on our driver. Sitting in the crowded backseat, I am reminded of home as thoughts turn to Jamie Bachicha and Julie Brizard, as I play a mix of music from one of my notorious playlists that is known the world over, or at least in Denver, Colorado. The legendary late night dance offs at my place that almost always ended with people dancing on my coffee table is a fond memory that still makes me smile, even while riding through dirt roads in Nicaragua. The first time I met Jamie and Julie was at the big red castle of an undisclosed location in Westminster, where debates over midget tossing and extensive, highly intellectual conversations on the subject of burnt da burnt were a calling card that will forever unite us a Belleview Bandits. I will be forever grateful for the numerous times I was pulled out of class by these two troublemakers with surprised unscheduled doctor’s appointment that ended with adventures around the Mile High City, often ending with late night trips to the oldest coffee shop in the city, Paris on the Platte. I suppose I can openly admit this now, especially since detention is no longer a threat that can be held over our heads. Viva los amigos!
After visiting every hostel in the quiet surf town of Las Penitas, we decide upon the cheapest of the three, Playa Roca. The view is absolutely incredible. I have never stayed at a place that is closer to the shore, and after settling in to our dorm room, which sleeps exactly six; we enjoy the afternoon view from the upstairs balcony overlooking the Pacific. The arrival of high tide sends large crashing waves in to the poorly built retaining wall below us that consists of 100lb sandbags that are being tossed like pennies and we cannot help but stare speechless at the continual pounding waves. Growing up in one of the farthest locations from any beach, I am consistently spellbound by the endless horizon of the ocean where the two-tones of blues collide in perfect harmony.
The rest of the afternoon is spent swimming in the surf at the southern end of the beach, where a split in the sand fills a large lagoon and I am slightly reminded of the similar landscape of Caye Caulker. The powerful surf hurls us around the crescent shaped opening of a natural lazy river that Water World would have a hard time emulating with such a strong current. Walking the beach in the soft sand, we arrive back in front of our hostel in time for some ultimate frisby with some local kids. Clearly dominating the game, just as the mighty University of Colorado Buffaloes tend to bend over and ferociously spank the weak and pathetic Colorado State Rams, bloodshed is avoided in the victorious win of the small Nicaraguans. As the sun begins to set, there is a gathering of storm clouds forming overhead that is causing even the locals to wait with anticipation of the developing storm.
Just before the sun completely vanishes for the night, a series of wicked lightening storms begin, providing our entertainment for the night as we have front row seats just under the protection of the grass roof above us. Each of us quickly scramble, grabbing our cameras and begin snapping away at the darkened sky that is lit up momentarily with bursts of light. The show does not disappoint, and as night settles in with completely darkened skies, the vivid images of daytime that last for just seconds is more spectacular than watching a squirrel waterskiing. Ok, maybe not, but it was pretty incredible to witness and will be a memory of Nicaragua that I will always share with my current traveling amigos.
Tuesday brings a repeat of the previous day with the exception of watching the transit of Venus across the sun. Meeting Sojin, a New Yorker doing some volunteer work in the country, he graciously gives our group a pair of Solar Glasses to safely view the event that will not take place for another 105 years. Walking over to both John Wayne and Cameron, I tell them that they can stop staring directly at the sun with wide-open eyes, because we have proper scientific eye protection of the highest caliber. Passing around the cardboard glasses with plastic lenses, you would think it was a nerdfest on the beach with all of us fighting over the shiny new toy that resembled something that might have come out of Michael Vick’s house. Forty-two policia, nine military, and twenty-eight minutes later, and order has been restored on the beach. The unspoken even that will forever be known as the Venus Massacre of Nicaragua 2012, is now a closed chapter. Rest in peace Michelle’s dignity. Please note, the photo of tranquility is taken just moments before what can only be described as EVERYONE needing an adult.
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