Day 8: New Country, Same Temperature

Monday, April 8, 2013. 7:33pm

Last Monday began with a 4a alarm. This Monday began with a 3a alarm. You would think I would hate Mondays, but they are the start of a new adventure (and Christi and I can pretend we are on The Amazing Race).

We met at the bus station at 3:30a to wait for the tica bus. And by bus station I mean bus stop. And by bus stop, I mean curb.

We essentially had no idea when the bus would arrive. We heard this was the one event in all of Central America that could actually happen on time, or even early. This information was wrong. However, all of our host families and many Rotary members came out to wait with us, which was super sweet. The bus finally arrived at around 5:15a and we were off to Nicaragua.

One of the most intimidating events that we have been scared of are border crossings on the bus. We had to cross into Honduras from El Salvador and then into Nicaragua from Honduras. The border crossing was easy going into Honduras and we didn't have to leave this bus (which was really good for me since I may have taken something to help me sleep... which sent me into a very weird dream about a Kanye West performance, and Deena, I was looking around for Kim K.'s nasty outfit). Anyways... at some point they gave me Burger King and I was happy.
The border crossing into Nicaragua was a little more dicey. We had to get off the bus and go through a swarm of amateur concierges and salesmen before going through customs.
------------------Break for Dinner: April 9, 2013, 4:27pm-------------------------------
Once we crossed the border, it was a quick drive into Chinandega. We were met by Saskia van Vurren, a local Rotarian originally from the Netherlands. We took a cab a few blocks to her house for a lunch. Other members of her club joined us for lunch. The club is very small, about 10 people and 8 are women. The women we are meeting in Nicaragua are very independent and powerful, which is not always the case in Nicaragua. Domestic violence and abuse are a large problem in the country. You hear that Nicaragua is an unsafe country, but what we are realizing (at least in Chinandega), the violence is in the home and it not random or against strangers.
We had a pretty relaxing afternoon visiting with the Rotarians. They pride themselves on being the "poor" Rotary group. They are not about throwing money around, but more about doing in the community.

Saskia has been very nice to ask to make sure we are comfortable, but she also wants to show us how the people live. So, we took a walk to the bus station and loaded onto an overcrowded, hot, old school bus to head to the beach.

Yay! Another quick beach trip.

Group Selfie

Nicaraguan beer

I think Jimmy and Christi were doing the arm shelf for real and not even faking it

Paul and Saskia, I'll spare you, but all the ladies had to get a pic with Don Paul

We spent about an hour on the beach and had a bit of local beer before going back to the our house (Parker, Christi, Jimmy and me are all staying together for these two days in Chinandega). We showered up and went to a house for their meeting and dinner. And this was a meeting like none other.

Juilio and Georgina are both doctors and were hosting our meal for the night. They had prepared an amazing feast of tortillas, plantains, carne, chicken and veggies, pork rinds, beans, and everything possible. Julio had a dico ball going and music blaring. After dinner, it was time for dancing, much to Charlie's delight. We danced, gave an informal presentation, and danced some more. We even listened to a little karaoke.
We got a ride back to the house from Julio's son, and dropped Julio back off at the clinic as he was going back to work.
Saskia has led a GSE before and realizes the need for rest, so thankfully, she gave us a pretty chill first day. It is hot. So hot. We have been very spoiled for the most part of this trip with a/c. Last night ended like many summer nights in SGF. Jimmy and I did some front porch sitting in rocking chairs, sipping a bit of rum, smoking cigars and listening to Don McClean American Pie. Sometimes you just crave a bit of home.

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