Zoe on revolutionary triumphs

Tuesday July 19

Okay, today has been kind of a disaster.

July 19^th is ‘the day of the triumph of the revolution,’ and it’s even more emphatically celebrated then the 4^th of July.

My mum and Jeremy were the smart ones. They stayed home. My dad and I were not so smart. We went to the giant celebration in Managua.

Pretty much, the celebration is 60,000 people gathering in Managua with flags, big, small, medium, etc. There are speeches and music, and people whistling, shouting, cheering… You get the idea.

The part that I enjoyed was the transportation. Just so you know, the drive to Managua is over an hour. I was in the back of the Mariposa pickup truck, so I had an awesome view. There were maybe 50-100 people crammed onto each school bus. Everyone inside was crammed together, standing, there were people hanging off of the back, and even the roof was packed.

So, imagine about five of those buses, some pickup trucks, and around forty motorcycles. Each town lines up, motorcycles first, trucks second, and buses last. The result is tons of people all going in a giant caravan to Managua. Every time we passed some people, we cheered, they cheered, and everyone held up two fingers, like the peace sign. Apparently, here when you’re voting, the Sandinistas are on the second row. So that’s why it’s two fingers.

That was the fun part.

The not fun part was the actual celebration. Remember, 60,000 people. The music and the speeches were so loud that I had my hands to my ears almost the entire time. Unfortunately, in response to the speeches, there was ear piercing whistling, which seemed to happen every time I took my hands away from my ears. It was a while before another person from la Mariposa told me that it looked like they were doing it purposely to annoy me.

I made a resolution to never go to that sort of thing without earplugs.

So that was horrible, but it was kind of cool, seeing so many people celebrating freedom by singing, cheering, and waving flags.

On the way back, Betsy (the one who’s not my mum and the one who came with my friend Alice, who’s leaving tomorrow,) was waving at some people on a bus. I think that they must have thought that we needed shirts that said things like ‘somos 2’ or ‘Sandanista,’ because one of the people was hanging out of the window trying to hand Betsy a shirt. They made six attempts before their bus went in another direction.

It was certainly an unforgettable experience. Whether it was unforgettable for a good reason or for a bad one, I can’t say.