Up Close and personal with Sandinistas in Nicaragua

Time constraints ( ya can´t see everything) and Lonely Planet (i.e. The Book) helped me decide to fly over Honduras and El Salvador and spend some time in Nicaragua. Flew from Guatemala City to Managua on February 26 to spend all of a week learning what I could about this country. It is the only one in Central America where the contemporary revolutionary movement led in 1979 to the overthrow of the US-backed government. But all is clearly not well in Nicaragua, despite beautiful places to visit.

Based on advice from fellow travellers I quickly passed through Managua and headed by bus to Leon, one of two colonial cities in Nicaragua. It was also the centre of the Sandinista movement during the civil war against the government and the US-backed Contras. Checked into a friendly, charming and cheap colonial hotel run by a very nice family and set out to explore a bit. First stop was the Plaza Central - focal point of most Central American cities. It was dominated by the somewhat rundown cathedral which was notable for the huge interior paintings undergoing restoration by a phalanx of conservators in white coats.

The Sandinista presence is very strong here, exempified by the revolutionary murals maintained by the City, and the memorials to the fallen, including one maintained by the mothers of dead Sandinista soldiers. All of this was quite potent in this year - the 150th anniversary of the birth of Augusto Sandino, the founder of the Nicaraguan liberation movement, who was slain by the notorious Samoza family in the early part of the century.

I visited a Sandinista museum and had a guided tour with Luis who gave me a detailed lesson in the origins of the movement and the struggle against the Contras. He noted the early successes of the first Sandinista government in establishing universal health care and broadening access to education.

After a period in opposition in the 1980s and 1990s, the Sandinistas reassumed power in 2006 again under Daniel Ortega. His popularity is waning considerably now due to some questionable decisions, widespread corruption and fraudulent municipal elections this year. These elections prompted many international governments, including the US, Sweden and the European Union, (not sure where Canada stands on this) to suspend hundreds of millions of dollars in development assistance until the elections were overturned, something Ortega has said he will not do.

So the immediate future of Nicaragua, whose people face enormous socio-economic problems, is bleak indeed. Demonstrations in 9 cities by opposition parties against the corruption, and counter demonstrations by the Government took place one day during my visit, although I was not near any of that. People fear that violence may again escalate in this troubled country.

The importance of poetry in Nicaragua culture was a surprise. I visited the home of Ruben Dario, the pre-eminent Nicaragua poet, which is now a museum. The house itself was a beautiful typical colonial Nicaraguan house with interior courtyard, covering half a city block. It is a veritable shrine to Dario where the faithful can see his original writings as well as his shoes, his bed, writing table and assorted other paraphernalia. I wonder how many Canadians would flock to see the shoes of one of our dead poets. In another converted "house" I viewed what is touted as the best collection of contemporary Latin American art in Central America - and it was impressive.

Granada was the next stop - the rival colonial city to Leon but with a decidely conservative bent. Unlike Leon, Granada has benefitted from international development largesse which has contributed to a major restoration, even rebuilding, of its colonial spendour. A UNESCO World Heritage site, it is Nicaragua´s equivalent to Antigua. Unlike Antigua, though, many of the structures destroyed through sacking or earthquakes have been rebuilt here. The colours of the buildings in the colonial centre in the early evening light is incredible. I spent about 4 full days there enjoying the relaxed pace, beautiful setting and the fine restaurants. Met up with school friends Jessica and Christian from Germany and we had good time catching up on our respective adventures.

Final stop in Nicaragua was Ometepe Island in Lake Managua, which I planned to give a full day and night before moving into Costa Rica. It is dubbed a "fantasy island" by "The Book" because of the two active volcanoes on the island and the relaxed rural life on Ometepe. However, a fantasy it was not, in my case, although beautiful it was.

Ometepe proved more of an adventure than I counted on. It began with one of the worst boat rides I have ever experienced, compliments of a 30-foot wooden launcha that heaved and lurched in the high winds throughout the 3 hour crossing to the Island. I saw many of the Nicaraguans on board cross themselves and take out their rosaries. Before long, despite the entreaties, many were heading for the sides of the boat to make their offerings to Lake Managua.

Eventually we made it across and my two travelling companions at the time, Alessandro from Italy/Japan and Greg from Australia, joined me in a cab to tour the island and bring me to my hotel. The others were returning to Granada for the night, via the wretched boat, much to their chagrin. The island is inded beautiful and domestic animals seem the most content, wandering freely on the roads, on beaches and wherever else they decide to hang out. And peole are relaxed and very friendly and helpfuil. These two boys helped me find directions on their way home from school.

To see more of the island and seek out the ancient petroglyphs with native carvings on them, I rented a mountain bike for the afternoon. Had a good time despite the high winds that continued throughout the day and the fact that I was the only guest in the hotel. Everyone here was bemoaning drop in tourism this year due to the economy.

For dinner, I was directed to Finca El Zopilote, a local organic farm, which was having pizza night that evening. With shaky directions and my flashlight I managed to find the finca, down a road and up a path through the banana plantation etc. etc. I knew I was getting close when I heard the guitars playing and could see the lights around the outdoor wood burning pizza oven. The finca turned out to be an organic farm that provides free or reduced accommodation to travellers in return for work on the farm. A group of 50 or so people were sitting around in the grass or on the rocks eating the pizza made with ingredients from the farm, drinking beer, chatting and listening to the transcient musicians. I think I stumbled on a latter day Woodstock in this remote corner of Nicaragua. Chatted with a few friendly folks from Australia, US and Canada, ate my cooked-to-order pizza and made my way back to my hotel.

Plan for next day was to get up at 4:00am to catch local bus to boat terminal on other side of the island in time for 6:00am bus. But alas it was not to be. Slept through my 4:00am alarm, but by a combination of buses and a taxi over the horrendously rutted roads, I made it to the terminal in time to board the steel-hulled ferry for the 9:00am crossing. But by 10:00 am, with no sign of movement, even the laid-back Nicaraguans were starting to wonder what was happening. Finally, we were told to leave the boat and board the identical one alongside, which all hundred or so passengers obediently did. And then we sat. By 11:00 or so we were told that due to the high winds the boat would not be given clearance to cross the Lake by the military officials who rule on these things. We disembarked again and for the next 5 hours sat at the terminal or walked around the town awaiting word that the boat was crossing. Meanwhile, more and more people, including several tour groups, piled up at the terminal. Finally by 4:00pm word spread that the boat would be leaving. When I saw an ambulance pull up and a medical patient board I followed quickly, thinking that this boat is leaving and I do not want to be left behind.

Hurrah! We successfully crossed the lake despite continued high winds and, realizing that it was not a good idea to try to cross the border into Costa Rica at night, found a place to stay in the decidedly untouristy town of Rivas, Nicaragua. There I ended March 4 with a fine Nicaraguan meal coooked by the matriarch of Casa Lydia. Evening entertainment consisted of listening to the tales of triumph and woe of a former Texas oil man now living in Costa Rica, who leaves Costa Rica every three months in order to renew his visa.

So my brief but eventful Nicaraguan experience came to an end the next morning when I got the last seat on the TICA bus out of Rivas to San Jose, Costa Rica. The border crossing was interesting as there were 2 processes, the first at the Nicaragua border, where we paid an exit tax. The second was at the Costa Rica entry point, 1 kilometre away across "no person´s land", where passports were stamped, more money changed hands, and luggage was scrutinized by border officials. The whole process took about one and a half hours and then we (me and some Americans I had met) were on our way in Costa Rica.

School's Out! The Roadtrip

My six weeks of school ended on February 13 and after the big graduation, I caught a bus to Guatemala City where I met Grant at the airport. We set off on a journey around Guatemala for 10 days with backpacks and a (very) loose plan.

First stop was Antigua, the so-called jewel of Guatemala and former capital of all of Central America. It is surrounded by volcanoes, one of which still belches smoke on a regular basis. Unfortunately, Antigqua's location was not optimal. Sitting on a faultline proved its downfall, and after the devastating earthquake of 1776, it lost its status and the capital shifted to Guatemala City. However, what remained is still pretty special. It has a gorgeous central park with beautiful trees in full bloom which served as a great setting for morning coffee and newspapers. For Grant this was a welcome change from the white landscape of Ottawa.

Antigua has endless blocks of Spanish colonial architecture and some 38 churches, in various states. And they keep finding new ones. An excavation in the 1990s turned up the extensive remains of a Dominican monastery, which has become the setting of the classiest (and most expensive) hotel in town. It has its own private museum in town, paid for by the owner of Gallo beer, the Labbatt of Guatemala. The remains of the chapel are now the hottest place for weddings for Guatemala's ruling elite.

We spent 4 days in Antigua, one day longer than planned due to a bout with the dreaded bug. In the end, both of us caught it. I made my entree into Guatemala's health care system to get a prescription, which quickly cleared things up. Grant was afflicted off and on for a couple of days more. However, our extra time in Antigua meant we could hang out, read and wander. One evening we stumbled upon an opera concert in one of the many decommissioned churches, now functioning as a cultural space. It was wonderful to hear and see.

On our last day we chatted with this family who asked us to take a photo of them. In exchange, we asked if we could also take their picture in their traditional dress or traje. Picture-taking is sensitive among Mayans and must always be negotiated first. Taking pictures of children is rarely a good idea. Virtually all Mayan women and girls in Guatemala wear traditional dress, which features brightly coloured, hand-made embroidered skirts and blouses (huipil) which are usually very ornate.

From Antigua we headed to Rio Dulce, a six hour bus trip to the east coast of Guatemala (close to the Caribbean). There we stayed in a cabana in the jungle on the river, a short boat trip from the town. That was the jumping off point for a great boat trip through the Rio Dulce to Livingston. This town lies on the Caribbean coast and is populated by the Garifuna, originally from Jamaica. While there we ate one of the traditional Garifuna dishes, a soup made of various kinds of seafood - including a whole fish - with coconut milk and coriander. Muy bueno! And we toured the local museum and had a demonstration of Garifuna miusic from one of the leading practitioners in Livingston.

The big event of this trip, though, was Tikal, which took another 4 hour bus ride to reach. This was via second class bus, meaning we stood in the aisle for half the trip as it was so crowded. It was not supposed to be a "chicken bus" but that is what we got. We stayed on the tiny island of Flores, about 1 hour south of Tikal, in the middle of a lake.

How does one describe Tikal? It is the king of Mayan ruins in all of Central America, with towering temples and massive structures. There are literally thousands of buildings here, only about 20% of which have been uncovered by archaeologists. Work continues in many areas of the park. Many of the sites in Tikal pre-date the time of Christ by hundreds of years.

The settting too is spectacular, since the temples are in dense jungle populated by wildlife, including toucans, spider monkeys, and howler monkeys such as the one in the picture which emit this terrifying roar heard for miles around.

Tikal reached its pinnacle in about 900 AD but rapid decline quickly followed. Scholars speculate about the reasons. Shortage of food, water, conquest by others and disease are all probable causes. Tikal was the setting for some of the shots in the Star Wars movie Return of the Jedi. We did an organized tour of Tikal with an excellent guide and then hiked to some of the more remote temples, spending almost the whole day there before returning to Flores. Temple Number V, recently restored with help from the Government of Spain, just had to be climbed, a feat facilitated by a series of steps and wooden step ladders to the dizzying summit.

Not wanting to do another marathon road trip across the country in chicken buses, and sadly running out of time, we caught a Taca airlines flight from Flores to Guatemala City and then a bus to Lake Atitlan - the other big tourist draw in Guatemala. We saved more than 10 hours of travel by flying. It is a beautiful lake surrounded by volcanoes and ringed by tiny villages, many of them accessible only by boat. Spent the first night in Panajachel and then took a launcha to the tiny town of Jaibalito. Our accomodation was just outside the town in a fantastic place called Casa del Mundo (from the dock a climb of more than 100 steps to our room). We stayed in a beautiful rustic cabin with balcony overlooking the lake and volcano and took advantage of the hot weather and being on the lake to go for a swim. Dinner was a collective affair in the lodge and we met interesting folks from Israel, the United States and Europe.

Hiked for 3 hours the next day along the lake to San Marcos - up and down the hills, following paths through very small corn fields, being wary of the loose dogs. San Marcos is a neat little town which has become the mecca for purveyors and consumers of every type of holistic therapy and spiritual development imaginable, and then some. Unfortunately this new-ageism and its followers have moved into the centre of the town while the locals seem to be pushed to the fringes, eking out a living from bananas and coffee. I wonder what they think of it all. Lunch at a French cafe was delicious and well-earned after our hike to San Marcos.

After 3 wonderful and relaxing days at the Lake, the Guatemala chapter came to a close and sadly Grant and I made our way back to the capital to catch our planes to different destinations - he back to Ottawa (and he was sad about that) and me to Managua, Nicaragua. We had a final dinner in Guatemala City at an Argentinian restaurant of course with some fine wine from Mendoza. Muy suave! (Note the copy of Lonely Planet, which is rarely far away.)