Taking it on the road

Thursday, July 14

The trip to Masaya (“the cradle of Nicaraguan culture”) was kind of a disaster, but also quite an education in the complications of Nicaraguan life. So many people wanted to go to Masaya that we had to take two vans—one rented from outside the Mariposa. We rode in that outside van: Bergmann aptly called the driver “Gordo,” which had most of us snorting. On the way to Masaya, we got a flat tire and had to pull over to have it removed and repaired. Nobody got out: they just jacked up the van with us in it. For entertainment, we passengers watched the chickens and the enormous mama pig in the yard just beyond the garage. We also wondered about the effect of the totally bald tire in the wet conditions we were likely to encounter on our way back.

We stopped at one bank in an unsuccessful bid to take out money, before we caught up with the others and stopped at a woodworker’s shop. It must be a challenge to produce work in conditions like these.

We also managed to spend half an hour at the Mercado, which made me totally claustrophobic and crazy. (And we still have to go back to get Zoe the hammock-chair her heart desires!)

Then we must have spent almost an hour trying to get money out of more ATMs. Poor Camile had to try three separate banks before she found one that would take her Mastercard. Then we drove around some, looking for Matteo, another person from La Mariposa who had decided to come back early with us after all. By then the heavens had opened on the afternoon’s deluge and the streets of Masaya turned into rivers. At one point on the highway, we hydroplaned briefly—I don’t think I’ve ever hydroplaned in a vehicle carrying 12 people before. Exciting! We had to stop for gas on the way back, and then we were so late that people in homestays needed

rides to their homes.

All told, we spent about five hours on the trip—probably four of them in the van, which I’m sure was gassing us with carbon monoxide most of the way. J and I practically staggered getting out at the end. J’s allergies are so bad I forced an allergy pill down his throat: I hope it helps!

A sign of Daniel Ortega's campaign for re-election.

Some of my favorite phrases so far:

Chocala: high five!

Tuani! something on the order of: you rock!

Colorín, colorado, esta conversación está acabado.

Ojalá que [harks back to the Moorish invasion of Spain): I wish that (may Allah grant…)

?V como vaca o b como burro? (since b and v sound exactly the same in Nicaragua)

por chisme: badmouthing

Hierve mi sangre: my blood boils

Te voy a quebrar la vida: I’m gonna get you!

Quiebro mi cabeza: I break my head (studying)

You need to study! Ah, me vale! (I don’t care)

Valgo mucho como persona. I matter.

Chico fresa: strawberry boy. Someone who pays too much attention to his appearance.

I also seem to be collecting words about parenting:

Eres un verincho: you’re a spoiled brat! (a very Nicaraguan phrase, evidently)

Regañar: to bawl out