Nicablogua Cuatro

I've finished uploading pictures from yesterday's Mombacho trip and zipline tour. The videos are on their way up too, but they take a lot longer to upload. There are also a few videos from the baseball game, including the "si se puede" chant.

Last night my host brother Noel asked me for some music for his ipod (he has a new 80GB version I've never seen--very slim with internal speakers and video). I gave him a whole range, including the Beatles, Jay-Z, Michael Jackson, and others. This morning, when I was taking a shower and getting ready to head out, I heard "Earth Song" blasting from the kitchen (Brie, I hope you see this), and could not have been much happier. I hadn't even recommended the song. It was just the one he chose to put on first. Of course, he then did in fact make me happier by following it up with "Chacarron," the greatest song in the world. Apparently a chacarron is a type of insect, though I couldn't work out what kind.

I thought I'd talk a bit more about baseball crazyness here, and the fact that it's a universal language. Whenever I get into a conversation with a local, it's almost always very easy to talk about baseball. Most people wear caps of various US sports teams (caveat in next paragraph). As I think I've mentioned, the Yankees are extremely popular. What's interesting though is that although people know a lot about the game itself (and that includes the Major Leagues) they are completely disconnected from its history. This isn't particularly surprising, as I'm certain the Major Leagues have only been popular here for as long as they've been televised here. Nonetheless it was interesting to get into a conversation with someone yesterday who had no idea that the Dodgers and Giants used to be in New York, and had never heard of Jackie Robinson. His name was Job (insert Arrested Development comment here), and he drove me out to the volcano (insert Job vs the Volcano joke here). At any rate, Job is a fan of the Florida Marlins, because he likes the fact that they're a team of young upstarts, as opposed to the Yankees, who go out and buy all the best players (his words, not mine). The fact that he knows enough to know that, and to make the more complicated decision about fandom indicates to me that he's a serious baseball fan with a good grasp of the game. So it was interesting to me that even for him, baseball basically started within the last 10-20 years. It's also worth noting, by the way, for seamheads out there, that the level of play here is really quite low, perhaps even lower than I initially realized. One of the best players in the league, Augustin Septimo (who hit two homers in the game I attended), is a 25 year-old shortstop. In 2008, his age 24 season, he put up a a 576 OPS in the Marlins FSL affiliate. This year, he played in the Indy Leagues, where he faired a bit better (.779). He was one of the league leaders in home runs here this season, with 5 in a little over 50 games. So the game I went to was basically the equivalent of seeing the Newark Bears with a more rabid fan base.

The other thing I wanted to discuss (again) was the poverty, because there are just some interesting things to contemplate here. It is an extremely common sight to see a Nica walking around in a shirt that says, for example "Monmouth High School Track." A large portion of local clothing clearly comes second hand from the U.S. This occasionally makes for some it-would-be-funny-if-it-weren't-sad moments, like the guy I saw in a "Rush Week 2003" t-shirt. As an American, it's quite an uncomfortable feeling, and it definitely makes one pause for a moment. Considering the amount of old t-shirts of that ilk that I gave to Goodwill when I moved out of my apartment, it's entirely feasible that I could see someone walking around here in my old Wesleyan Orientation Leader t-shirt. The thing that's most striking about it is the extent to which even the relatively well-off people here live to some extent off of our second hand goods. It's the second poorest country in the hemisphere (after Haiti--donate here), so it's not exactly a surprise, but one is constantly reminded of the fact that Nicaragua-rich is still Rest-Of-World-poor. Nicaragua-poor, of course, is pretty destitute. Most of the kids don't make it past fourth grade here, and a lot of them start huffing glue before they even reach double-digits. It's heartbreaking, and there's still a serious need for international aid here. But what is also interesting about it is that, at least in Granada, the majority of people still seem to get by reasonably well and at least on the surface appear to be reasonably happy. This is, at a minimum, a country that functions, with an economy that may not be growing, but does exist. But in every way you can think of, it lags far behind our standard of living--tickets are handwritten receipts, you cannot buy anything on the internet, and transactions are almost universally conducted in efectivo (cash), except at the places designed for the wealthiest tourists.

What's tough is that I really don't know what the solution is. More tourism adds some money to the economy, but comes with a whole host of other serious issues, both for the locals and for the tourists. For centuries, there was a large bull shark population in the lake (it connects to the Caribbean via the Rio San Juan), but that was grossly overfished by the Somoza administration for leather and shark's fins, and is now, for all intents and purposes, extinct. They have a variety of interesting fruits (nispero and zapote, for example), but I've heard that most of them spoil quickly, so exporting them wouldn't necessarily work. They have very good coffee, which I think helps some, but it's not something you can use as the base of a monocrop economy when people can also get it from countries like Colombia and Costa Rica. So there's not really an answer to the major problems here, as far as I can discern. Focusing on the kids and keeping them in school is a good start, certainly, so, to that extent organizations like Casa Xalteva do a reasonable amount of good. Beyond that, there's really no obvious solution, and it seems like exactly the kind of place that is likely to get forgotten in a global recession.

Anyway, I'm not sure there's a particularly ideal way to end this post except to say that this trip is reminding me of just how incredibly fortunate I am in a nearly infinite number of ways (not the least of which is the opportunity to take this trip, and the comfort to be able to contemplate this stuff from my perspective instead of the local one).

And with that, I'm going to finish my lunch and head down to the lake to hop on the four-hour boat ride to Ometepe.

Saludos,

Seth

Nicablogua - Volcán Mombacho

I don't have a whole lot to report today, as the morning was mostly about good views, and I think the pictures do a better job of getting that across than I could with words. I was very excited to discover that my computer has software for stitching together panoramas from multiple photos, so those will probably start showing up here with more frequency. Anyway, this morning I went up to Mombacho Volcano to do a hike around the crater and check out the zip line canopy tour.

Pictures of the volcano and hike here.

Pictures of me looking like an idiot zipping around a cloud forest canopy here.

My Granada album, available here, is now complete, with several pictures of food (per my father's request).

I'm planning to grab a boat to Ometepe tomorrow afternoon. I have no idea if I'll have internet there (I haven't even decided if I'm going to bring my netbook), so I'll either be in touch from there, or I won't until I get back Thursdayish.

Saludos,

Seth

Nicablogua Dos

(you should be able to click the above picture for a larger view. It's a panorama I took down by the lake)

So, I just had a lengthy phone conversation with my parents during which I remembered that there are a couple of other things I wanted to discuss. I'll do this notes-style so I can pretend to be Peter Gammons.

• If you've looked through my pictures, maybe you've noticed that Parque Central is full of hot dog And coffee stands. I don't mean hot dog stands and coffee stands. I mean hot dog and coffee stands. Because Disney is incredibly popular here, many of them have random Disney characters painted on. There are some photos in my Granada album, so definitely check 'em out.

• My new favorite slang term that I learned here is "fresa," which literally means "strawberry." But they use it to mean "snob," because "strawberries think they're better than all the other fruits." Here in Nicaragua, they generally think the Ticos (Costa Ricans) are "muy fresa." I was also asked whether New Yorquiños are fresa, to which my answer was "a veces," or "sometimes."

• I mentioned that the language study is going well, but there are two important quirks to note. The first is that Nicaragua is one of only very few places--though Argentina is another--where they use "vos" instead of "tu." This would be easy if it were just the one word that got switched, but it's an entire new grammatical structure, e.g. "Vos sos" instead of "Tu es." The other thing is that the accent involves dropping s's like crazy. So, instead of "gracias," you get "gracia," and instead of "uno mas," you get "uno ma." It's tough to understand when you're not used to it, but, as they say, knowing is half the battle.

• The next point is directed at the local roosters. Seriously guys, you need to cool it. You start your cock-a-doodle-doo ing no later than 4am (when the sun isn't remotely close to being up) and you continue until 9 or so. I have to sleep with earplugs because of you. Seriously guys, can't you take it down a notch? No wonder people feel compelled to taxiderm you and turn you into baskets.

• Two additional interesting things from the perspective of Marlon, my Spanish teacher. This is less an insight into Nica culture and more an insight into the perspective they have on the rest of the world. First off, Marlon attended Franklin Delano Roosevelt High School in Jinotepe, Nicaragua. He never knew who Roosevelt was until fairly recently, and always thought he was a famous Nicaraguan. Additionally, when it came up that my grandparents had survived the holocaust, he expressed surprise, because he knew I was "part Jewish," but didn't realize that it was enough to have warranted oppression. When I explained that it was a little more than "part," he was very surprised, because he never knew Jews could be white. I think the idea of discrimination being a racial thing is so ingrained, that he just assumed that anti-Semitism and racism were one and the same. They're similar of course, but the idea of whiteness is quite different here.

• The locals love bright colors. The origin of this apparently has to do with when the conquistadors came and made the natives put on full-body clothing. They didn't really know what to do, so they just chose the brightest colors they had. All kinds of neons. Now this manifests as very brightly painted houses and buildings, as well as all kinds of neon lights that are added to cars (including taxis).

• The way Granadiños deal with direction is quite interesting. They almost never say "left" or "right" unless you specifically ask. The directions Marlon was given when he took me to my house were "go past the park a little bit, bear sort of North West, and then it's a block after the bridge, sort of up that way." East, West, North, and South are used much more frequently here. In a lot of ways, it makes sense, so long as you understand the layout of the city (which is admittedly quite straightforward).

The other thing I wanted to say, which is way off-topic and sort of a somber way of ending this otherwise light post, is that it's remarkable to see the outpouring of sympathy and concern for the victims of the Haiti earthquake. Nicaragua is the second poorest country in the hemisphere (after Haiti), but at the game last night there was an announcement that the government was sending C$500,000 (about $25,000) to Haiti. There was also a minute of silence before the game. So, in the spirit of doing what I can, I'd like to direct your attention to Partners In Health, which has had people on the ground in Haiti for over 20 years. This recommendation comes courtesy of my former colleague Pierre Cremieux, who some of you know, who is heavily involved with an international aid organization called Medical Aid Committee. According to Pierre, Partners In Health is very well positioned to help out based on their longstanding presence, so I urge you all to join me in doing what you can to support them.

I hope you all have splendid weekends. I'm off to Mombacho Volcano in the morning, and hopefully Ometepe on Monday, so I should be able to check back in at some point with some pretty awesome pictures of crazy things we don't have in New York.

Saludos,

Seth

Granada Oriental Sharks vs Lion Lions

So, I went to the Granada-León baseball game tonight, and I thought I'd share my thoughts, because there was a lot to take in. First, the more general stuff. I found it very amusing that a city that has so many hot dog vendors had none at the baseball stadium. The logical explanation is that hot dogs are here for the tourists. Given that they're really only in Parque Central, I think that must be true. That said, it strikes me as very strange that they seem to think that Americans eat mostly hot dogs. Sure, a nice ballpark frank hits the spot from time to time, but it’s pretty far from a staple outside of sports venues.

The Granada team, as I mention in the pictures, is called the Tiburones (sharks). For reasons I do not remotely understand, they are also called Oriental. Some things said Tiburones, others said Oriental. Others said Granada. It's like if the New York Mets were also the New York Europes, and the names were used interchangeably. Unfortunately, two names weren't enough to will them to victory, as the Oriental Sharks dropped game 1 of the series, 3-1. León's team name, by the way, as far as I can tell, is the Leónes. This means their name, translated, is the Lion Lions.

Culturally, the game was just straight crazy. Both teams have brass bands, and songs that they sing. The most common chant was "ponche," as in "punch" as in "punch-out" as in "strike out." The starting pitcher for Granada (he looked like Guillermo Mota, and I sort of hope he was) did a nice job and got a number of these two-strike chants, and a number of those also paid off. The place is packed to the gills and seats are general admission. Moreover, if you get up from your seat, you can expect that it will likely be gone when you return, unless your friends are willing to be very agressive on your behalf. I actually watched the game standing up behind all the chairs, because we couldn't find enough seats.

Easily the best thing is the chant they do during a rally: "¡Sí se puede!" I was pretty psyched to get to chant along with that one. Unfortunately, Obama couldn't come through for the Tiburones. Other noticeable cultural things: they use scantily-clad women even more than we do, they don't do a seventh inning stretch, and the teams arrive in school buses. Different parts of the stadium are fenced off, so that you can't move to the infield if your ticket is for the outfield, and vice versa. There were tons of very aggressive scalpers in the parking lot, yelling at us that the ticket office was sold out, but for 100 Córdobas, ($5 US), they would sell us tickets. It wasn't sold out, so we paid our 40 Córdobas ($2 US) instead.

This is the part where I'm going into seamhead (a.k.a. baseball devotee) territory, so if you don't really care about interesting baseball things, you might want to skip the rest. Thing 1: I know you can't walk your way off the Dominican Republic, but apparently you also can't walk up through Honduras, Guatemala, and Mexico. The first walk of the game did not occur until the top of the 8th inning. In fact, the first three-ball count of the game occurred in the top of the 8th inning (and subsequently turned into the first walk). Moreover, the batter walked on four pitches, and it may well have been the old unintentional intentional walk (I couldn't tell because I had no way of knowing who the players were). There was also an intentional walk in the 8th, to load the bases for Granada's second consecutive inning-ending rally-killing double play.

Friends, I saw some moments of fundamentally unsound baseball tonight. I know, it's not exactly the Major Leagues, or even the NY-Penn League, or even the Venezuelan Winter League. But wow. The León centerfielder dropped a routine pop-up (granted it may have been Luis Castillo, I don't know). Players were hacking at everything, chopping grounders. The Tiburones stranded at least three runners at third, after they got them with less than two outs. One guy came up in the second with a runner on 3rd and one out and promptly struck out swinging at something stupid. Another player bunted and dove into first base, giving me horrible memories of Robbie Alomar, Roger Cedeno, and the 2002 Mets. There was some really bad baserunning. One player failed to score from second on a single, when he really should have, but he stopped at 3rd. Another guy hit a grounder down the 3rd base line that was a clear single, and he got thrown out at second by about 20 feet, trying to stretch it into a double. León were able to win because they hit three solo homers, and Granada beat themselves. In the 7th inning, Granada was down 3-1 with a runner on 1st and 3rd and one out, and hit into a double play. Next inning, bases loaded, one down, and another double play. On the second pitch (first was about two feet outside).

The aforementioned pitcher who looked like Guillermo Mota had a Mota-Piazza type moment at one point. He got out of a jam--largely thanks to a friendly out call on a León player over-running first base and getting tagged--and pumped his fist and jumped up and down like crazy. This was in the 5th inning, when he had already given up the first two home runs of the three he would allow, and his team was down 2-0. I don't really care when players show emotion, and sometimes it's nice to know they're as pumped as you are. But this was a bit much given the situation. And I do know that if he were, in fact, in the majors, he would get a fastball up at his eyes.

It was a really fun experience, and felt like a much rowdier and somewhat dirtier version of watching a Mets game in St. Lucie. I'm pretty sure they even borrowed some of the stupid drunk fans I've seen in Queens, and taught them to swear in Spanish. Really fun time though, and now I'm off to bed*.

Saludos,

Seth

*Note: I'm writing this at home after the game on Friday night, even though it will actually go online midday Saturday (I think).

**For those interested, here's the recap of the game (via Google Translate).

Fotografía:

Nica Baseball Championships

Nicablogua

Okay, so after almost a week, I'm finally finding some time to write my first real blog post. It's been basically impossible to find time this week, since I'm busy all day, and my house doesn't have internet, so I'm going to try to catch everyone up on everything. Let's start with the cast of characters.

My Host Family: Berta and José Orlando, and their three children José (23), Noél (20), and Rosanna (18). They're incredibly sweet. Berta is warm and welcoming, José Orlando is engaging and interested, and José works all day. I've gotten along very well with the younger kids, Noél and Rosanna, first bonding over the fact that they're both starting to learn guitar. They asked me to play a couple of songs for them, which I very self-consciously did. It turned out Noél was secretly recording me on his cell phone, which was kind of funny. It's nice to have a thing I can teach someone, given how much time I'm spending learning while I'm here. I'm teaching Noél the Book of Love (by the Magnetic Fields) to sing to his girlfriend. And that way, he'll also have it ready for his next girlfriend next week. Noél is also learning English. His favorite word is "motherfucker." Rosanna is a sweetheart, and a total nudge. She really enjoys giving me a hard time, and told me as much. A few days ago, after I'd eaten a particularly large meal (we'll come to that in a bit) she asked me how many months pregnant I was. She certainly seems to get my sense of humor, though, so it's nice. I really enjoy living with them, and can only hope that my future residency situations are this good. I have my own room, and Berta cooks up to three meals a day (though I usually just have breakfast and sometimes dinner at the house, and lunch in the city). They also have an adorable dog named Lucky (see pictures) who likes to jump on your lap.

The Dutch folks: Rene and Mirona are also staying at Berta and José Orlando's house. They've been here a few weeks doing volunteer work and learning Spanish. I've gone out with them a bit the last couple of nights, and they've been a lot of fun. They speak English very well (qué suerte), so that makes my life a little easier. I know that it's better for my language skills to spend as much time speaking Spanish as I can, but after doing it all day, it can get a little exhausting, just because of the amount of extra thought required to say a basic phrase.

My teacher: Marlon, is a super nice Nica. He's got a great sense of humor, and is an extremely patient teacher. He's very good at letting me take my time to work out how to say something, and is helpful when it comes to correcting my mistakes. He's from Jinotepe, a town not too far from here, and he tells me about their interesting varieties of fruits. He also runs a lot of the activities for the school, so he's often around when I'm visiting other parts of the city, which is very helpful. He's got a great sense of curiosity, so we talk about all kinds of things, ranging from the underlying causes of the U.S. economic collapse to the scientific explanations of dreaming (thank you Radiolab). Yes, I do manage to express a lot of the complex thoughts involved in these things, but it usually takes me a while to form what I'm trying to say.

Other students: I've gotten along quite well with some of the other students at the school. The classes are individual, so I mostly interact with them during the breaks and the activities. I've spent a decent amount of time at the activities with Kenny and Keren, a sweet couple who are super Californian. Keren is an excellent Spanish speaker, and Kenny knows a lot about hammocks and random other things, something I can appreciate as an aficionado of miscellanea. I've also spent some time hanging out with two students named Brendan and Rosalind, a couple about my age. He's from Oregon and she's from Nevada. They're a lot of fun. Last night over drinks I learned that they studied a lot of crazy math in school, which of course makes me like them even more. We're going (along with Marlon, Rene, Mirona, and maybe Kenny--quite the ragtag crew) to the baseball game tonight. It's the first game of the best-of-7 championship series, Granada against Léon, so that should be pretty awesome (¡Vayan Tiburones!).

My school is called Nicaragua Mía, and the teachers are really great. They're clearly very well-practiced, and are excellent at picking up on the areas where you need help. I have class from 8-12 in the morning, and then optional activities in the afternoon. I've posted photos (links below) of everything so far, and you can see some of the activities. We went to Las Isletas (a series of small islands in Lago Nicaragua that were formed by an exploding volcano several hundred years ago), Masaya (a nearby town with a large market of local artisanal crafts), and had a cooking class. The large meal I mentioned earlier was at the cooking class, where we made our own empanadas. I used the inside part of my plate as a guide, and it turned out that I happened to have the large plate. So I made (and ultimately ate) an unreasonably large empanada. An empanada is basically plantains smashed into a pulp, and then used as a kind of dough, wrapped around some cheese. Then it's pan-fried. So if you see the pictures, keep in mind that the thing I'm eating is fried plantain and cheese. You have permission to feel a little ill. I still do.

The comida typica (local food) is generally not super diverse. Gallo pinto (mixed fried rice and beans) is the staple, although quesillos (sort of like a rolled quesadilla) are also all over the place, and are pretty tasty. Breakfast is almost always eggs with some kind of vegetable and bread, which works great for me. Chicharrones (pork rinds) are something of a delicacy here, which is unfortunate, to say the least. I've managed to have them only once. Interestingly, hot dogs and burgers are very common. As you can see from the Granada pictures, there are hot dog and coffee carts all over the Parque Central, which is the main square here. I made myself try a local hot dog, out of curiosity, and it honestly could've been from Coney Island. It was quite flavorful. I actually am writing this from a balcony restaurant overlooking the Parque, where I just ate "the best hamburguesa in Granada." It goes against just about everything I stand for to go to a different country and eat a hamburger, but I had to see what their take on it was. This particular one was really good, mostly because it had a perfectly fried egg on top. So really, how can you go wrong?

The local beers are Toña and Victoria, the latter of which is definitely superior. Victoria is a pilsner, and I believe Toña is a lager (I have a Victoria in front of me right now, so I'm not really sure). I've had some other really interesting local beverages, Tiste (a drink made of toasted corn and cacao) and Chicha (a crazy pink ginger drink). You can get chichi at the local market, but it's sold in a plastic bag and is apparently not the most hygienic thing in the world, so I skipped it there and had it at a restaurant instead.

Granada is a beautiful city in a lot of ways, though smaller than I expected. You run out of road pretty fast if you go North or South, and the lake is downhill to the East. There's an incredibly impoverished shanty town to the South. I was up there yesterday with Rene and Mirona, who volunteer there. We were supposed to play baseball with the kids, but then it turned out they'd already played before I got there. So hopefully, I'll get to do that on Tuesday instead.

Central Granada is downright full of gringos. Somewhat surprisingly though, the industry that feeds off of the tourists is not that aggressive here. The Parque Central is definitely full of people selling random tourist crap, as is La Calzada (which is the street with all the gringo restaurants). But if you say "no, gracias," they leave you alone. It's significantly less in your face than most other places I've been where tourism is a major industry. There's also a decent amount of poverty, but again, it's not as bad as I've seen it in other places. The average standard of living is much lower than the states, obviously, but in the center of the city, the poverty is less apparent. In fairness, that's mostly because the homeless have moved down the road to the shanty towns, but even there they have televisions and refrigerators (with pirated electricity). I don't mean to downplay the severity or significance of the poverty, it just looks a bit different here than anywhere else I've been.

One of the major downside to Granada (aside from the fact that there is a *lot* of litter) is that can get very loud. There are cars that are paid to drive around blasting advertisements from loudspeakers, and that can get tiresome at times. The cars are also older, obviously, so they get quite noisy. And, based on the frequency of car horn usage, I can only assume they're being used to communicate very complex thoughts in Morse Code.

As I said, gringos are everywhere, but particularly in places like Kelly's Bar, O'Shea's pub, and Kathy's Waffle House. "Et in arcadia ego," I guess. The only one of these I've been to was Kelly's Bar, to which I went on Wednesday night with Rene and Mirona to hear some live music. The local band really loves Credence, it seems. They kicked off the show with "Have You Ever Seen Rain?" They also played pretty sweet covers of "Creep," by Radiohead (not TLC), and "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," in the style of Guns ‘N' Roses.

My Spanish is coming along quite well, to the point that yesterday I rented a bike in town, and the salesman asked where I learned Spanish, and told me it was excellent. The key moment was when he told me that the amount I gave him included the deposit, and that I'd get back $75 out of my $80 when I returned the bike. He asked if I'd understood, and when I said yes he asked me to repeat it back to him to make sure, and I did (successfully), which got me points. This is much better than the issue I've run into once or twice where someone gives you instructions, you say "sí," they walk away, and a minute later you realize that while you know roughly what they're talking about, the specifics could be one of at least two very different things. One example is the time Berta, my host mother, told me I didn't need to lock the deadbolt when I left her house, because the door locks automatically. Only when I was walking away did I realize I wasn't sure if she had meant that, or that I should always lock the deadbolt in addition to the automatic lock. It turned out to be the former, so thank goodness that worked out okay.

The bike ride, it's worth noting, was great. The other Americans I know here seemed to think I was nuts, but even the busy areas in town are not nearly as bad as riding a bike in New York or Boston, so I was fine. At any rate, I mostly strayed from the most traffic-heavy parts of town (I went through once to swing by the house). Instead I headed down to the lake. I took a lot of pictures that show off just how incredible it looks down there. The lake is pretty enormous, and there are mountains and volcanoes on pretty much all of its shores, so the vista is just remarkable. It is incredibly polluted though, which is a shame. There were also more flies there than I've ever seen in my life. Riding along the water, you collide with so many bugs that it literally feels like rain. A number of them died on my shirt as though I were a windshield. Yeah, gross. Generally, the insects here aren't too bad. I've gotten a little bitten, but not much. Bug spray goes a really long way, it seems. There aren't any stinging insects in Granada, as far as I can tell, so that's good too. I guess I should also mention that it's ranged between 70 and 85 degrees every day, without a drop of rain. So, that's nice. The locals get very cold when it gets down to the high 60s and low 70s at night. A lot of them put on sweaters. I've gotten a little burned on the back of my neck, but otherwise no real burning or even tanning. I expect that will change once I get to Costa Rica.

I've gotten to the point of feeling pretty comfortable here. The first few nights I refused to leave the house after 6pm. The truth is though, that the city is really very safe. I now realize that my family lives in the rough equivalent, neighborhood-wise, of park slope, so the few robbers that supposedly do exist here just aren't in that area. They hang out closer to the touristy areas, I assume. The people here are wonderful. I've found myself in random conversations with dozens of natives who are just very friendly and welcoming. I think they're very happy that their city is a place other people want to visit. It sounds like the war was a really rough time for the residents. Marlon was telling me yesterday about the first time he tried chocolate. He was 10 years old, shortly after the war ended, and he came across it for the first time. He tasted it and thought it was so incredible that he only took one or two bites, and hid the rest in his bedroom. He was afraid that it would disappear from the country, and never come back, so he wanted to reserve the small amount he had. But after a while he came to realize that chocolate was here to stay, so he stopped hoarding it.

Now that I feel more comfortable here, I'm very excited for the coming week. As I said, tonight I'm going to the Tiburones (Sharks) game at the baseball stadium. I'm going to try to go to Ometepe—an island in the middle of the lake consisting of two volcanoes connected by an isthmus—for the next few days. Concepción, the bigger volcano, is visible in the distant background of one of my pictures of the lake. It's got a caption that says so, if you want to see it without searching too much. Next week I'm planning to visit Mombacho and Masaya volcanoes, both pretty close to Granada. You can see the Masaya volcano from my pictures of the trip to the Masaya market, and Mombacho in the pictures of Las Isletas. I'm also going to try to get to Laguna de Apoyo, which is a spectacular nature preserve. In an ideal world, I'll make it up to Cerro Negro, a very young volcano covered in black sand, from the top of which you can ride a toboggan to the bottom.

I think that's all I have for the moment. I figured I'd give a broad overview here, and if you want specifics on the activities you can check out the pictures, most of which have captions. I'll try to check out comments. As I mentioned in the last post, I don't get to the internet much here, and when I do it's not usually for very long. I think that'll change in future destinations, but it's just the way things are for the moment. I recently discovered a hostel near my house with free wi-fi though, so maybe that will change some. I'm off to reserve my ferry ride to Ometepe, and try some raspado (shaved ice).

Saludos,
Seth

Fotografía*:
Granada
Las Isletas
Masaya

*Note: as of this posting, I am in the process of uploading these pictures. I have to be somewhere in about 30 min, so they might not all make it online before I leave. The Granada album will almost certainly be updated again, though the other two will not.