After all the “♫Wishing and hoping♫ and thinking and praying, planning and dreaming each night,” the rain is finally here. The past week was so humid that sweat would run down my body while standing in the kitchen not moving at all. It was quite extraordinary.
We had been teased by a short shower or two in early May thinking that the rainy season might be upon us but the locals discouraged such notions. It would be closer to the end of the month before the heat would break.
Last night we went to bed around 9 PM accompanied by some light rain and lightning. Well, it didn’t follow us all the way into the bedroom but just before turning in, I made sure that there was nothing in the courtyard that could get destroyed by the water.
Throughout the night we were awoken by roaring thunder, lightning and heavy rains. At 5 AM Paul got up because he was worried that the house would be washed away. The downpour wouldn’t let up. But we were still in the same spot and everything seemed copacetic.
When we finally rose to greet the day, the tiles to Sophia’s bedroom were flooded and the roof had a couple of leaks that dripped into the kitchen. It was still raining.
The night before, we had run out of gas while cooking dinner. I had called the company and they assured me that it was no problem to get a new tank delivered Sunday morning. But with the rain, everything had changed. The PropiGas guy was all of a sudden no longer able or willing to have the propane tank delivered because it is usually done by bicycle.
Armed with the empty tank and an umbrella, hubby left the house to broker the exchange himself. He took a cab to PropiGas and 20 cords and 5 minutes later, he returned with a full canister. What a relief. I don’t know what I would have done without my morning coffee.
While I was making breakfast, the rain finally stopped. It had only been 12 hours. Wow. Talk about a lot of agua coming down. My plants were all water-logged, the bugs were swarming everywhere (not sure if they got washed out of the ground), the streets were spit spanking clean and the air was fresh and cool.
It took several hours for everything to dry up. But the temps stayed down and so did the humidity.
Our favorite season is finally here.
Am Tag, als der Regen kam, lang ersehnt, heiß erfleht,
auf die glühenden Felder, auf die durstigen Wälder.
Am Tag, als der Regen kam, lang ersehnt, heiß erfleht,
da erblühten die Bäume, da erwachten die Träume,
da kamst du.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Hummingbird Rescue
One day Papi was walking from the kitchen to the living room, which are about two steps away from each other. Not strange, right? But then something strange did happen. Something flew into Papi! And can you guess what it was? Un colibrí! AKA a hummingbird!
He fluttered onto the garbage bag. He was only a baby! That’s probably why he flew into Papi.
“He probably came from the nest on the roof,” said Papi.
We stepped toward him, and he got startled. He flew away, trying to get onto the second story.
Now, I have to tell you something about our house. There’s a courtyard in the middle, with the porch of the second floor above it. Underneath that is the pool.
“Oh, no!!”
The hummingbird hadn’t had enough momentum to get to the porch, so he had fallen - into the pool!
Papi ran to get a bag, and he fished the birdie out of the pool. Colibritito was cold, wet, and trembling. His feathers clung to his body, which made him look even smaller than he was. He was shaken.
Since we had seen hummingbirds outside our window, we put him on the windowsill. He started to dry off a little. After several minutes, a grown-up hummingbird came by the window, tweeting. His mommy! He faintly tweeted back, but she couldn’t hear him! She flew away.
After a while, she came back and he tweeted again.
“Mommy, help me please!”
“No. You have to learn to fly by yourself.”
And she flew off.
We decided to leave him alone for a while, and when we went back to check on him, that bird had flown.
(No animals were harmed in the making of this blog. At least we didn’t find Birdie on the ground outside our window.)
By Sophia
Friday, March 11, 2011
Poetry and Lent
We haven’t even blogged about the poetry festival yet, and the next celebration is already under way. This morning, on the way to school, Sophia and I saw a procession going down one of the main arteries in Granada carrying Jesus on a bed of flowers. It’s the third day of Lent after all.
The band was playing rather melancholy songs. Not sure why but perhaps because Lent is a time of sacrifice and a period of preparation of the believers for Holy Week.
People who live along the road put crosses outside their door or tables with palm leaves. One little girl was dressed up in flowing gowns with a halo above her head. And we are talking 6:50 AM…
On Ash Wednesday we saw a lot of Nicas walking around with ash crosses on their forehead and at night there was another procession going down Calzada but we didn’t have time to catch it since we were meeting J at a restaurant to say our Farewells. He was going back to Seattle the next day.
At any rate, Semana Santa is going to be a BIG week. I can already feel it.
But I mentioned the Poetry Festival and that was an amazing week. More than 130 poets from 50 countries came to Granada to regale the Nicaraguans with their art. Nicas LOVE poetry. People from all walks of life gathered to hear the artists recite their work. One day the poets were going down the traditional “parade route” in town and stopped on every street corner to recite poetry. Complete with platform, microphone and translator. Now, I always say that something gets lost in translation and that’s certainly true for poetry. But nonetheless, one gets a feeling of what the artist is trying to convey.
We saw Gioconda Belli, one of the most famous Nicaraguan poets, a former Sandinista now living in California. We had read her autobiography, so Paul raced home and got the book for her to sign. We hope J&M don't mind since we borrowed the book from them.
The parade was preceded by the poetic carnival complete with funeral procession. The theme of the carnival was “Burial of the miseries and poverty of the soul” with the slogan of “Poetry is the realm of imagination and the most happy and painful testimony of human beings on earth."
Groups from all over Nicaragua were present to showcase their dances and customs from their region. They were in beautiful folklore costumes. However, there were also numerous folks with black faces, devil's masks or skeletons with other fear-inducing props (known as "Ahuizotes") that roamed the streets dragging their chains and chasing after unassuming bystanders. The people who got caught were roped in those chains and moved across the promenade surrounded by their captors and accompanied by yelling and screaming. It was quite the sight.
One time the group moved toward my husband and we stopped breathing. But they only wanted to show him that the doll baby one of the guys was carrying had the same bald head as Paul. They love pelones down here.
This parade was the best parade we have seen in town. It even topped the carnival back in August.
Every day of the poetry week ended with a concert. We listened to two of them from the comforts of our home since they were being held within ear shot and attended two others. One of them was Norma Elena Gadea who was quite spectacular.
The week culminated in a concert on Parque Central showcasing Carlos Mejía Godoy who is also mentioned in Gioconda's autobiography. He was truly amazing and he and his band members made beautiful music. What a wonderful finale to a week of fun.
The band was playing rather melancholy songs. Not sure why but perhaps because Lent is a time of sacrifice and a period of preparation of the believers for Holy Week.
People who live along the road put crosses outside their door or tables with palm leaves. One little girl was dressed up in flowing gowns with a halo above her head. And we are talking 6:50 AM…
On Ash Wednesday we saw a lot of Nicas walking around with ash crosses on their forehead and at night there was another procession going down Calzada but we didn’t have time to catch it since we were meeting J at a restaurant to say our Farewells. He was going back to Seattle the next day.
At any rate, Semana Santa is going to be a BIG week. I can already feel it.
But I mentioned the Poetry Festival and that was an amazing week. More than 130 poets from 50 countries came to Granada to regale the Nicaraguans with their art. Nicas LOVE poetry. People from all walks of life gathered to hear the artists recite their work. One day the poets were going down the traditional “parade route” in town and stopped on every street corner to recite poetry. Complete with platform, microphone and translator. Now, I always say that something gets lost in translation and that’s certainly true for poetry. But nonetheless, one gets a feeling of what the artist is trying to convey.
We saw Gioconda Belli, one of the most famous Nicaraguan poets, a former Sandinista now living in California. We had read her autobiography, so Paul raced home and got the book for her to sign. We hope J&M don't mind since we borrowed the book from them.
The parade was preceded by the poetic carnival complete with funeral procession. The theme of the carnival was “Burial of the miseries and poverty of the soul” with the slogan of “Poetry is the realm of imagination and the most happy and painful testimony of human beings on earth."Groups from all over Nicaragua were present to showcase their dances and customs from their region. They were in beautiful folklore costumes. However, there were also numerous folks with black faces, devil's masks or skeletons with other fear-inducing props (known as "Ahuizotes") that roamed the streets dragging their chains and chasing after unassuming bystanders. The people who got caught were roped in those chains and moved across the promenade surrounded by their captors and accompanied by yelling and screaming. It was quite the sight.
One time the group moved toward my husband and we stopped breathing. But they only wanted to show him that the doll baby one of the guys was carrying had the same bald head as Paul. They love pelones down here.
This parade was the best parade we have seen in town. It even topped the carnival back in August.
Every day of the poetry week ended with a concert. We listened to two of them from the comforts of our home since they were being held within ear shot and attended two others. One of them was Norma Elena Gadea who was quite spectacular.
The week culminated in a concert on Parque Central showcasing Carlos Mejía Godoy who is also mentioned in Gioconda's autobiography. He was truly amazing and he and his band members made beautiful music. What a wonderful finale to a week of fun.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Culture Galore
What a fun weekend!On Saturday we went to hear the Orquesta Filarmónica Juvenil. They were quite impressive. The group of about 30 musicians consisted of adolescents and young adults age 13-24. The repertoire included pretty difficult pieces by Schubert and Bach.
It was a very enjoyable evening and it reminded me how much I like to listen to classical music. It also made me think that I would like to be able to master a musical instrument one of these days. Maybe in my next life…
Today we went to the circus. Circo Zuary is in town and we were entertained by artists from all over Central America, Mexico and Canada. We saw clowns, acrobats, Elasti-Girl, snake charmers and more. It was a great experience and Sophia loved every minute of it. How can you not? We imagined what it would be like for these artists to have a high quality trampoline and for us to have real stands. The gradas we were on didn’t look too stable and every time someone stepped on the wooden planks, we moved. First down and then up. Luckily there was a brace on either side that held the planks in place and helped us stay on.
And tomorrow is the opening ceremony of the Annual Poetry Festival. Poets from all over the world are expected to arrive and to recite their work. We can’t wait.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
El Berrinche Ambiental
This week Granada hosted the Second International Street Art Festival “El Berrinche Ambiental”. Circus artists from all over the world (US, Central America and Europe) regaled us with their many talents. Sophia was especially excited to see them since she used to take Circus classes in Seattle. She is also the proud owner of a unicycle and several juggling paraphernalia in case you didn’t know.
These artists mingled with the commoners during the day and taught them how to juggle or balance, fold a bird that can flap its wings, paint the sidewalk or their faces and much more.
At night, they would perform in the streets of Granada. We caught their show on Plaza de Los Leones and I have included a video from that night for your viewing pleasure. I usually try to be quiet during the taping since I am closest to the microphone but these guys did something really gutsy. It starts at around 0:50 seconds and culminates with me screaming at 0:59 sec. If you watch the video, you may understand why… ENJOY.
Tonight was the last day of the festival and after a parade through town, the artists gathered at Plaza de Los Leones again for a grand finale. The show was absolutely amazing. It included a lot of local children that had been practicing with the artists all week and were now showing off their newly acquired skills such as walking on stilts, juggling the Diablo and some acrobatics.
Some of you - who know the owner of the local gym - might not be surprised to hear that he was part of the show. He was supposed to be the henchman on stilts complete with metal chain around his neck but since one of his long legs snapped, he had to improvise and thus became a dog. A very handsome one, I might add. And he sported a new hairdo – a Mohawk. As you can see, he is still the same old W that we know and love.
Once the show was over, the whole plaza erupted in music and everyone started dancing in the square. It was one huge party with people throwing water at each other.
After a while, we decided to grab some food and walked to La Calzada to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves typical Nica food. The Calzada is always fun since we enjoy people-watching and are also quite entertained by the street vendors.
Today we met Jimmy whose father loved Jimmy Hendrix so much that he named his son after him. Jimmy lives in Managua but he peddles his fare (pirated copies of international movies) in Granada since it is much safer here.
Then there was the guy who sells maracas. He showed us how he carves patterns into them and your name if you want him to. It was unbelievable. The guy had two simple tools and was standing by the side of our table while making art.
Having an artista in our midst has shown us how much work is required to manage a simple handstand or to juggle three balls, to paint an oil picture or to carve a pattern into clay. And here we see all of these amazing people showcasing their talents on the streets for a couple of Cords a night. We have a lot of appreciation for them.
Our favorite troupe is the group of break-dancers who either are double-jointed, don’t have any bones in their body or defy gravity. It is mind-boggling to see how they can move.
Our family had meanwhile finished dinner and decided to walk back home. While recounting the events of the evening, we noticed a guy on a bicycle who seemed to follow us across Parque Central. We turned around in time to realize it was our waiter who was bringing us the check complete with Paul’s credit card and ID. He was so happy that he had caught up with us. Not only was he able to get Paul’s signature, he could also return the cards. After shaking our hands several times, he rode back to the restaurant. You gotta love the Nicas.
These artists mingled with the commoners during the day and taught them how to juggle or balance, fold a bird that can flap its wings, paint the sidewalk or their faces and much more.
At night, they would perform in the streets of Granada. We caught their show on Plaza de Los Leones and I have included a video from that night for your viewing pleasure. I usually try to be quiet during the taping since I am closest to the microphone but these guys did something really gutsy. It starts at around 0:50 seconds and culminates with me screaming at 0:59 sec. If you watch the video, you may understand why… ENJOY.
Tonight was the last day of the festival and after a parade through town, the artists gathered at Plaza de Los Leones again for a grand finale. The show was absolutely amazing. It included a lot of local children that had been practicing with the artists all week and were now showing off their newly acquired skills such as walking on stilts, juggling the Diablo and some acrobatics.
Some of you - who know the owner of the local gym - might not be surprised to hear that he was part of the show. He was supposed to be the henchman on stilts complete with metal chain around his neck but since one of his long legs snapped, he had to improvise and thus became a dog. A very handsome one, I might add. And he sported a new hairdo – a Mohawk. As you can see, he is still the same old W that we know and love.
Once the show was over, the whole plaza erupted in music and everyone started dancing in the square. It was one huge party with people throwing water at each other.
After a while, we decided to grab some food and walked to La Calzada to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves typical Nica food. The Calzada is always fun since we enjoy people-watching and are also quite entertained by the street vendors.
Today we met Jimmy whose father loved Jimmy Hendrix so much that he named his son after him. Jimmy lives in Managua but he peddles his fare (pirated copies of international movies) in Granada since it is much safer here.
Then there was the guy who sells maracas. He showed us how he carves patterns into them and your name if you want him to. It was unbelievable. The guy had two simple tools and was standing by the side of our table while making art.
Having an artista in our midst has shown us how much work is required to manage a simple handstand or to juggle three balls, to paint an oil picture or to carve a pattern into clay. And here we see all of these amazing people showcasing their talents on the streets for a couple of Cords a night. We have a lot of appreciation for them.
Our favorite troupe is the group of break-dancers who either are double-jointed, don’t have any bones in their body or defy gravity. It is mind-boggling to see how they can move.
Our family had meanwhile finished dinner and decided to walk back home. While recounting the events of the evening, we noticed a guy on a bicycle who seemed to follow us across Parque Central. We turned around in time to realize it was our waiter who was bringing us the check complete with Paul’s credit card and ID. He was so happy that he had caught up with us. Not only was he able to get Paul’s signature, he could also return the cards. After shaking our hands several times, he rode back to the restaurant. You gotta love the Nicas.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
PerroZomPopo (Street Smart)
Yesterday we heard some music playing at about 9 p.m. and remembered that PerroZomPopo, a very popular Nicaraguan band, was playing near the town center. Sophia was sleeping and Astrid was finishing Giaconda Belli’s book about Nicaragua ("Country Under My Skin"), so I walked the six blocks to the concert by myself.
The street between the Convent San Francisco and one of the hotels had been closed to set up a large stage and sound system. Concert-goers paid $5.00 and entered from a side street. I entered the blocked off area from behind the stage, then walked on the raised sidewalk to the side of the stage until I could see the performers. This was an area opposite the convent where the view to the concert was supposed to be blocked off by sheets, but la gente had torn them down. Though free, it was the best seat in the house, with a great view of the stage and of the facade of the convent across the street.
The band was incredible. I didn’t know anything about them, but they were all great musicians. The band was formed by Ramon Mejia, who sings and played guitar on a few songs. He has a buzz cut, but was wearing a hat. "Perrozompopo" is a colloquialism for "street smart" and a nickname for a species of gecko native to Nicaragua. Mejia chose the name as a way to identify with his country and his people.
Their music was basically rock, with traces of reggae sometimes, and rap at other times. There were large movie screens on either side of the stage that projected videos, primarily of the streets of Nicaragua or, during the finale, of the musicians themselves. Mejia and the bass player were in front of the stage; further back were two more guitarists, a violinist, a drummer and a pianist. Near the end they all gave quite amazing solos.
Besides the music, it was fun to watch the light show on the convent. There were projections of white light (lasers?) on the four columns and the cornice, and different colors on the rectangles between the columns. Sometimes the lights on the columns would expand out and contract, like it was breathing. Sometimes there were circles of light around the circular windows that would expand out then shrink bank. It wasn’t from secondhand (or firsthand) smoke, I swear. At other times there was an image of a bishop chasing a sheep across the top of the cornice. The light show was pretty sophisticated; much more than I expected.
I tried to figure out the economics of the thing. There were probably less than a thousand paying customers, seven band members, a crew to build up and tear down, several large trucks for transportation, lighting and sound team, and hotel rooms to be paid. If they sell pirated CD’s in the marketplace for the same prices as the movies ($1.00 apiece), they can’t get much from sales within Nicaragua. Of course, there are at least four levels of prices: poor Nicas, rich Nicas, tourists and ex-pats, and the crew members probably get paid less than $2.00 an hour. So maybe it all works out.
The street between the Convent San Francisco and one of the hotels had been closed to set up a large stage and sound system. Concert-goers paid $5.00 and entered from a side street. I entered the blocked off area from behind the stage, then walked on the raised sidewalk to the side of the stage until I could see the performers. This was an area opposite the convent where the view to the concert was supposed to be blocked off by sheets, but la gente had torn them down. Though free, it was the best seat in the house, with a great view of the stage and of the facade of the convent across the street.
The band was incredible. I didn’t know anything about them, but they were all great musicians. The band was formed by Ramon Mejia, who sings and played guitar on a few songs. He has a buzz cut, but was wearing a hat. "Perrozompopo" is a colloquialism for "street smart" and a nickname for a species of gecko native to Nicaragua. Mejia chose the name as a way to identify with his country and his people.
Their music was basically rock, with traces of reggae sometimes, and rap at other times. There were large movie screens on either side of the stage that projected videos, primarily of the streets of Nicaragua or, during the finale, of the musicians themselves. Mejia and the bass player were in front of the stage; further back were two more guitarists, a violinist, a drummer and a pianist. Near the end they all gave quite amazing solos.
Besides the music, it was fun to watch the light show on the convent. There were projections of white light (lasers?) on the four columns and the cornice, and different colors on the rectangles between the columns. Sometimes the lights on the columns would expand out and contract, like it was breathing. Sometimes there were circles of light around the circular windows that would expand out then shrink bank. It wasn’t from secondhand (or firsthand) smoke, I swear. At other times there was an image of a bishop chasing a sheep across the top of the cornice. The light show was pretty sophisticated; much more than I expected.
I tried to figure out the economics of the thing. There were probably less than a thousand paying customers, seven band members, a crew to build up and tear down, several large trucks for transportation, lighting and sound team, and hotel rooms to be paid. If they sell pirated CD’s in the marketplace for the same prices as the movies ($1.00 apiece), they can’t get much from sales within Nicaragua. Of course, there are at least four levels of prices: poor Nicas, rich Nicas, tourists and ex-pats, and the crew members probably get paid less than $2.00 an hour. So maybe it all works out.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
A Day in the Life of a Tourist
The law in Nicaragua allows tourists to stay in the country for 90 consecutive days. After that, they can a) extend their visa once for up to 90 more days for a small fee or b) leave the country. Since Paul had already exhausted the first option, we decided to leave the country when the visa for the rest of the family expired.
Costa Rica is only about 100 km from Granada. Not a big deal. Chicken bus to Rivas, here we come. We actually managed to catch the bus the second time we tried since we could never figure out whether the bus was supposed to leave at 9:30 AM or 9:45 AM. Well, it turned out that the driver left when he felt like it.
The second time we showed up, we had plenty of time to spare and left promptly at 9:22 AM. The trip to Rivas was pretty uneventful and the conductor was even kind enough to let us know where to exit to catch the next bus to Peñas Blancas. We changed buses and were at the border before Noon. What a smooth ride.
Once there, we had no real clue what to expect. We had investigated this whole thing on the internet and had found a lot of information but being there was still different.
So, the first thing we did was to pay a small municipal fee per person to be able to leave the country. Not sure what that was for.
Then we passed through the first check-point. Of course, we blended in with the rest of them. Not. Paul with his bald head and two white gringas by his side - they don’t show up at the border like this every day.
Next we got in line in the office to exit the country. After paying another small exit fee, we were officially no longer in Nicaragua. So, we walked toward the border to Costa Rica.
By now it was after Noon and the sun was in its zenith. Not a cloud in the sky. My daughter (who had a fever the day before) started looking really pale. We had plenty of water on hand and encouraged her to drink lots of it.
Once we arrived at the checkpoint to Costa Rica, our hearts sank. We were looking at a line of several hundred people trying to enter the rich coast. Oh no!
As luck would have it (or was it a really smart Tico?), we ran into someone who could get us to the front of the line for another small fee. After some negotiation and several glances at our daughter, we settled on a price and moved toward the checkpoint.
Once there, we had to wait until our new-found friend had all of his people aligned before we got the go-ahead to enter the building. He made sure to ingrain in our brains that we needed to line up at window 7 to enter CR and at window 2 to exit. These windows were all but 10 feet apart from each other.
So, we did. After getting our stamps (and not being hassled about missing travel documents) to enter the country, we immediately lined up at the next window to exit. And again, no hassle… Well, that was the best money I have ever spent.
Our new best Tico friend gave us his name and number in case we knew of any others that needed his assistance or in case we needed someone to do the same favor when re-entering Nicaragua.
So, we strolled back the way we came and rested in the shade for a little while before we entered the same building again that we had frequented not 2 hours earlier.
We made sure to line up at another desk so that the same officer wouldn’t have to handle our papers again. And after paying another small fee to obtain a new tourist visa for another 90 days, we were officially back in Nicaragua.
We felt like a million dollars. Off to the bus to go back to Granada. But wait, there was this one checkpoint we had to cross again before we were home-free. So, my ingenious husband put his baseball cap on (that’s going to fool them) and off we went.
The official was still the same. He had either already had his lunch break or he wasn’t going to take one today. As soon as he saw us, he started talking about the fact that we had spent so little time away. I told him that we had to return since my daughter was really sick and she made sure to look the part. He kept repeating that it was just so little time. And I kept saying that my daughter was very sick.
At some point he figured that we weren’t getting it and asked us directly to give him a propina. Oh yes, of course we had a tip for him. And that was the very first time that we bribed an official. Wow. But we were back in Nicaragua and had another 90 days in our passports.
And then there was that municipal fee to be paid again upon re-entry. Go figure…
It was time for a Victoria. Literally. While we were sipping our beer, the bus showed up. We ran (cans in hand) to the bus and were on our way to Granada. Or so we thought. The conductor charged us twice as much as on the previous two trips combined and I was really outraged about it. But heck, we were on our way home.
At some point the road split and the bus turned to the left when Granada was to the right. WEIRD. But the conductor was nice enough to let us know that we had arrived at our destination. I tried arguing with him that we weren’t in Granada and that I had paid so much more only to be left in the middle of nowhere but it was no use.
As luck would have it (again), there was a nice Nico who happened to be at that very spot with his three-wheeler to offer us a ride into Granada for another small fee. I was not happy about any of this.
Our options were a) walk 5 kilometers in the blistering heat with a now miserable child or b) bite the bullet and pay for the cab.
So, again we opted for b. Smart choice.
When we finally arrived in Granada, we counted all of our blessings including the fact that we don’t have to make that trip ever again. In April we can pay another small fee to get our passports extended for the remainder of our stay.
Costa Rica is only about 100 km from Granada. Not a big deal. Chicken bus to Rivas, here we come. We actually managed to catch the bus the second time we tried since we could never figure out whether the bus was supposed to leave at 9:30 AM or 9:45 AM. Well, it turned out that the driver left when he felt like it.
The second time we showed up, we had plenty of time to spare and left promptly at 9:22 AM. The trip to Rivas was pretty uneventful and the conductor was even kind enough to let us know where to exit to catch the next bus to Peñas Blancas. We changed buses and were at the border before Noon. What a smooth ride.
Once there, we had no real clue what to expect. We had investigated this whole thing on the internet and had found a lot of information but being there was still different.
So, the first thing we did was to pay a small municipal fee per person to be able to leave the country. Not sure what that was for.
Then we passed through the first check-point. Of course, we blended in with the rest of them. Not. Paul with his bald head and two white gringas by his side - they don’t show up at the border like this every day.
Next we got in line in the office to exit the country. After paying another small exit fee, we were officially no longer in Nicaragua. So, we walked toward the border to Costa Rica.
By now it was after Noon and the sun was in its zenith. Not a cloud in the sky. My daughter (who had a fever the day before) started looking really pale. We had plenty of water on hand and encouraged her to drink lots of it.
Once we arrived at the checkpoint to Costa Rica, our hearts sank. We were looking at a line of several hundred people trying to enter the rich coast. Oh no!
As luck would have it (or was it a really smart Tico?), we ran into someone who could get us to the front of the line for another small fee. After some negotiation and several glances at our daughter, we settled on a price and moved toward the checkpoint.
Once there, we had to wait until our new-found friend had all of his people aligned before we got the go-ahead to enter the building. He made sure to ingrain in our brains that we needed to line up at window 7 to enter CR and at window 2 to exit. These windows were all but 10 feet apart from each other.
So, we did. After getting our stamps (and not being hassled about missing travel documents) to enter the country, we immediately lined up at the next window to exit. And again, no hassle… Well, that was the best money I have ever spent.
Our new best Tico friend gave us his name and number in case we knew of any others that needed his assistance or in case we needed someone to do the same favor when re-entering Nicaragua.
So, we strolled back the way we came and rested in the shade for a little while before we entered the same building again that we had frequented not 2 hours earlier.
We made sure to line up at another desk so that the same officer wouldn’t have to handle our papers again. And after paying another small fee to obtain a new tourist visa for another 90 days, we were officially back in Nicaragua.
We felt like a million dollars. Off to the bus to go back to Granada. But wait, there was this one checkpoint we had to cross again before we were home-free. So, my ingenious husband put his baseball cap on (that’s going to fool them) and off we went.
The official was still the same. He had either already had his lunch break or he wasn’t going to take one today. As soon as he saw us, he started talking about the fact that we had spent so little time away. I told him that we had to return since my daughter was really sick and she made sure to look the part. He kept repeating that it was just so little time. And I kept saying that my daughter was very sick.
At some point he figured that we weren’t getting it and asked us directly to give him a propina. Oh yes, of course we had a tip for him. And that was the very first time that we bribed an official. Wow. But we were back in Nicaragua and had another 90 days in our passports.
And then there was that municipal fee to be paid again upon re-entry. Go figure…
It was time for a Victoria. Literally. While we were sipping our beer, the bus showed up. We ran (cans in hand) to the bus and were on our way to Granada. Or so we thought. The conductor charged us twice as much as on the previous two trips combined and I was really outraged about it. But heck, we were on our way home.
At some point the road split and the bus turned to the left when Granada was to the right. WEIRD. But the conductor was nice enough to let us know that we had arrived at our destination. I tried arguing with him that we weren’t in Granada and that I had paid so much more only to be left in the middle of nowhere but it was no use.
As luck would have it (again), there was a nice Nico who happened to be at that very spot with his three-wheeler to offer us a ride into Granada for another small fee. I was not happy about any of this.
Our options were a) walk 5 kilometers in the blistering heat with a now miserable child or b) bite the bullet and pay for the cab.
So, again we opted for b. Smart choice.
When we finally arrived in Granada, we counted all of our blessings including the fact that we don’t have to make that trip ever again. In April we can pay another small fee to get our passports extended for the remainder of our stay.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
December is all about the Immaculate Conception and the birth of Christ. This year Purísima started on Sunday (11/28) with the statue of the Virgin Mary being carried out of the Cathedral and through the streets of Granada and will end on December 8th. This tradition began in Nicaragua on December 7th, 1742 and has been celebrated ever since.
Every night a different street gets to carry the statue of the Virgin Mary on their very own float down their street. We caught the celebration on Calle Sta. Lucia on Thursday which was followed yesterday by an even bigger show on Calle Atravesada (this is the main drag at the corner of our street). We were out there until 9 PM and saw the most amazing street fair complete with fireworks and firefighters.
People from our street performed a little play on stage and it featured Sophia’s friend from school. They were quite happy to see each other. And A looked angelic.
Tonight was Calle Inmaculada’s turn and we beat them as far as the spectacle is concerned plus “our” float was nicer (or so we think). But they sure drew the bigger crowd.
All of Granada seems to be on their feet. Families with their little ones dressed to the nines (my favorite are the little girls in their princess dresses), teenagers trying to impress their counterparts, real nuns in an effort to find some meaning in it all, police officers attempting to keep the chaos at bay, marching bands playing their hearts out and the ambulance vehicle leading the parade down the street.
Again, all of this is going to climax next Wednesday when the Virgin Mary gets carried back to the church. The 8th is also a public holiday. Even the grocery stores are going to be closed. This is serious business.
We were fortunate to see the Virgin Mary come to the neighbor across the street to have their house and family blessed.
Apparently that is why the doorways are so tall in Granada. People used to carry the statue right into the house on their shoulders so that one could receive the blessing inside the house.
Well, I can’t wait to find out what else is going to happen during the next 4 days.
Today was also the day when I finally asked my fruit lady what her name is. Damaris. Here is where my lack of religious education shows. I have never heard of the name. Apparently she was in the bible.
Biblical name derived from the words 'damalis' calf ; 'damar' wife. The name is most likely a corruption of Damalis (Old Greek), although it could also be from the diminutive of the element 'damar' (wife). As a form of Damalis, the name is sometimes interpreted to mean 'gentleness'. In the Bible, Damaris was an Athenian woman and Christian convert of Paul; as a result of the biblical mention, in the 17th century the name was adopted by English Puritans.
BTW, I am sitting in the comforts of my sala while typing this entry, listening to salsa music coming from the neighbors, sipping the local beer and enjoying the warm summer night. Ah, the tropics. I love the weather. Beats the cold and damp in Seattle any day of the week.
Although I have to say that decorating for Christmas in 85 degree weather seems to be rather odd. But then again, Bethlehem doesn’t exactly have icy temperatures either. It’s all what one is used to.
Every night a different street gets to carry the statue of the Virgin Mary on their very own float down their street. We caught the celebration on Calle Sta. Lucia on Thursday which was followed yesterday by an even bigger show on Calle Atravesada (this is the main drag at the corner of our street). We were out there until 9 PM and saw the most amazing street fair complete with fireworks and firefighters.
People from our street performed a little play on stage and it featured Sophia’s friend from school. They were quite happy to see each other. And A looked angelic.Tonight was Calle Inmaculada’s turn and we beat them as far as the spectacle is concerned plus “our” float was nicer (or so we think). But they sure drew the bigger crowd.
All of Granada seems to be on their feet. Families with their little ones dressed to the nines (my favorite are the little girls in their princess dresses), teenagers trying to impress their counterparts, real nuns in an effort to find some meaning in it all, police officers attempting to keep the chaos at bay, marching bands playing their hearts out and the ambulance vehicle leading the parade down the street.
Again, all of this is going to climax next Wednesday when the Virgin Mary gets carried back to the church. The 8th is also a public holiday. Even the grocery stores are going to be closed. This is serious business.
We were fortunate to see the Virgin Mary come to the neighbor across the street to have their house and family blessed.
Apparently that is why the doorways are so tall in Granada. People used to carry the statue right into the house on their shoulders so that one could receive the blessing inside the house.Well, I can’t wait to find out what else is going to happen during the next 4 days.
Today was also the day when I finally asked my fruit lady what her name is. Damaris. Here is where my lack of religious education shows. I have never heard of the name. Apparently she was in the bible.
Biblical name derived from the words 'damalis' calf ; 'damar' wife. The name is most likely a corruption of Damalis (Old Greek), although it could also be from the diminutive of the element 'damar' (wife). As a form of Damalis, the name is sometimes interpreted to mean 'gentleness'. In the Bible, Damaris was an Athenian woman and Christian convert of Paul; as a result of the biblical mention, in the 17th century the name was adopted by English Puritans.
BTW, I am sitting in the comforts of my sala while typing this entry, listening to salsa music coming from the neighbors, sipping the local beer and enjoying the warm summer night. Ah, the tropics. I love the weather. Beats the cold and damp in Seattle any day of the week.
Although I have to say that decorating for Christmas in 85 degree weather seems to be rather odd. But then again, Bethlehem doesn’t exactly have icy temperatures either. It’s all what one is used to.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
It’s about time that we update our blog. Somehow time seems to fly in the tropics.
November came and went without a single blog entry. What happened? Well, lots of things.
The month started with El Día de los Muertos on November 2nd. Actually, the celebrations started on the 30th of October ( that’s when families erect altars at their homes to honor the dead), continued on November 1st which is All Saints Day and observed in most catholic countries (Día de los Fieles Difuntos y Todos los Santos) and then culminated in an all-day event on the 2nd.
We ventured out to Granada’s cemetery which is absolutely gorgeous and supposedly the oldest in Central America. Every family of status has a mausoleum of sorts where all departed family members are buried. During Day of the Dead the site gets decorated with flowers and the family sits by the graves to remember the dead, tell stories, eat, laugh, cry and light candles in honor of the deceased.
It was an unbelievable sight. We went to the cemetery around 5 PM and the streets were still filled with vendors peddling their fare, families going to and fro and the occasional tourist. Chaos is what Nicaraguans are best at. And this was no different.
The church is supposedly modeled after Notre Dame in Paris although we had a hard time seeing the resemblance. Maybe we have to check it out again in the daylight.
And no, this is not a picture of the church but another monument. Amazing, isn’t it?
We stayed for an hour until it was completely dark and only the moon and the candles at the graves provided dim light. Grabbing a taxi cab to go home proved to be somewhat difficult. So, we walked down the street until we hit Atravesada and decided to have dinner at a street side “restaurant”. This was officially the first time that our family ate food from a street vendor aside from the occasional cheese tortilla. Nobody got sick. Success!
A couple of days later we met B, M and A from Bellingham who decided to spend a month in Nicaragua with their 2-year-old daughter. These guys are quite the adventurers. M has visited over 50 countries already and she is probably 10 years younger than me. Her husband B can look back on 27 or so countries that he has been to. And they aren’t done yet. I admire these people. My count is a mere 25. There is a whole world out there waiting to be discovered by the Petruccis.
Just two nights ago while walking home I told my daughter that I saw the Milky Way when I was in Namibia because there was NO LIGHT on the ground. It was absolutely magical. I suggested that we go to Africa next when we are done with our Nicaraguan adventure. And she said “okay”. That’s my girl! But I digress.
We spent some quality time with the Bellingham-ers and were sad to see them leave.
Also in November, Paul became the Padrino (Godfather) to a 13-year-old Nicaraguan boy. The whole family was invited to the confirmation ceremony at the Cathedral on Parque Central. It must have brought back some memories of days long gone for my husband. But he better tell the story himself.
Next up was the arrival of our US contingent. We were looking forward to a fun week with our friends. Some of them hadn’t been to Nicaragua yet. As soon as our Seattle friends made it to Granada, it started raining every day even though the rainy season was officially over. I guess that was our version of the ice-age that Seattle went through right around Thanksgiving.
We had a fun time exploring Granada and surroundings with our friends and mixed in a couple of fiestas here and there. For TG we had 20 people at our table and probably consumed two of the four turkeys the restaurant had prepared for the event. YUM!
After dinner it was time to work off the calories. We went salsa dancing. Even the kids got to go. Only in Central America… Sophia was on the dance floor until 10:30 PM. Like mother like daughter… But she could sleep in the next day since school was officially over. It ended on Turkey Day.
Sophia had a fun six weeks at Colegio San Antonio and made some friends. It also helped her get over her shyness to speak Spanish. She will now go up to street vendors and ask them questions.
One of our favorite vendors is the guy who walks around with a tricycle that has a huge basket in the front. He sells oranges for 8 Cordobas each (about 35 cents) and peels them with a contraption that makes the peel come off in one strand. It’s the yellow stuff in the picture hanging from the handlebar. We have been taking it off his hands since he doesn’t do anything with it. It makes for fun and fragrant Christmas decoration on our palm trees. But I digress again.
Just because Granadians haven’t had a celebration in a while, it was time for another horse show. This time around it was “Hipica de Nocturno” and it started at 8 PM. We got to see some beautiful horses. As we found out later, it was a very impromptu event and not a lot of people knew about it since the posters didn’t go up until a couple days prior to the event. It brought back fond memories of the Hipica in August when there were over a 1,000 horses in the streets of Granada. I had never seen anything like that before.
After the show was over, we met a bunch of cowboys at “El Club”. Some of them came all the way from Matagalpa which is a good 3 hours away by car. Not sure how long it takes on horseback.
This was the last night my girlfriend and her sister spent with us, so we decided to dance the night away since the cab was due to arrive at 4:30 AM. I think I fell asleep at 3:45 AM. Old age is catching up with me…
That morning we ventured off to Mombacho Volcano to do a Canopy tour. We had one remaining visitor and it was his wish to go on a zip line. I had never been on one and was torn between having 3 hours of nice and quiet and finally getting over my fear of heights.
I decided to face my inner demons. Plus, the guide assured me that I could try one line and if I didn’t like it, there was a way to return and hang with the boys at “base camp”. Well, it wasn’t quite like that. The first line was a practice line that hung 4 feet above the ground. When I freaked out after taking the first actual line 40 meters above the floor of the cloud forest, I was told that there were only 10 more lines to go. Trapped!
The second line was the longest and highest and I wasn’t about to go across. Luckily one of the staff decided to take me for a piggy-back ride. Except that I was going in front. Now, aside from being afraid of heights, I am also a control freak and hanging from a strap in front of the other guy wasn’t giving me a warm and cozy feeling either. So, after the third or fourth line it was time to grow up and have some fun. The boys seemed to enjoy it quite a bit and so did my 11-year old daughter for crying out loud!
So, when the boys decided to go upside down, I was going to follow their lead.
I was hanging from the cable with my legs crossed above me and was told to lean back more so that I would be hanging head-down. At this point it struck me how stupid I must be to be hanging from a ¼ inch cable in the canopy of the cloud forest with my head pointing toward the ground. Old habits die hard…
Anyway, it was a fun outing. We saw a lot of flora and fauna of the area which was an added benefit. In retrospect I wish I had tried hanging from the cable to see what it’s like to actually live through the fear. Next time…
And just like that, November was over.
November came and went without a single blog entry. What happened? Well, lots of things.
The month started with El Día de los Muertos on November 2nd. Actually, the celebrations started on the 30th of October ( that’s when families erect altars at their homes to honor the dead), continued on November 1st which is All Saints Day and observed in most catholic countries (Día de los Fieles Difuntos y Todos los Santos) and then culminated in an all-day event on the 2nd.
We ventured out to Granada’s cemetery which is absolutely gorgeous and supposedly the oldest in Central America. Every family of status has a mausoleum of sorts where all departed family members are buried. During Day of the Dead the site gets decorated with flowers and the family sits by the graves to remember the dead, tell stories, eat, laugh, cry and light candles in honor of the deceased. It was an unbelievable sight. We went to the cemetery around 5 PM and the streets were still filled with vendors peddling their fare, families going to and fro and the occasional tourist. Chaos is what Nicaraguans are best at. And this was no different.
The church is supposedly modeled after Notre Dame in Paris although we had a hard time seeing the resemblance. Maybe we have to check it out again in the daylight.
And no, this is not a picture of the church but another monument. Amazing, isn’t it?We stayed for an hour until it was completely dark and only the moon and the candles at the graves provided dim light. Grabbing a taxi cab to go home proved to be somewhat difficult. So, we walked down the street until we hit Atravesada and decided to have dinner at a street side “restaurant”. This was officially the first time that our family ate food from a street vendor aside from the occasional cheese tortilla. Nobody got sick. Success!
A couple of days later we met B, M and A from Bellingham who decided to spend a month in Nicaragua with their 2-year-old daughter. These guys are quite the adventurers. M has visited over 50 countries already and she is probably 10 years younger than me. Her husband B can look back on 27 or so countries that he has been to. And they aren’t done yet. I admire these people. My count is a mere 25. There is a whole world out there waiting to be discovered by the Petruccis.
Just two nights ago while walking home I told my daughter that I saw the Milky Way when I was in Namibia because there was NO LIGHT on the ground. It was absolutely magical. I suggested that we go to Africa next when we are done with our Nicaraguan adventure. And she said “okay”. That’s my girl! But I digress.
We spent some quality time with the Bellingham-ers and were sad to see them leave.
Also in November, Paul became the Padrino (Godfather) to a 13-year-old Nicaraguan boy. The whole family was invited to the confirmation ceremony at the Cathedral on Parque Central. It must have brought back some memories of days long gone for my husband. But he better tell the story himself.
Next up was the arrival of our US contingent. We were looking forward to a fun week with our friends. Some of them hadn’t been to Nicaragua yet. As soon as our Seattle friends made it to Granada, it started raining every day even though the rainy season was officially over. I guess that was our version of the ice-age that Seattle went through right around Thanksgiving.
We had a fun time exploring Granada and surroundings with our friends and mixed in a couple of fiestas here and there. For TG we had 20 people at our table and probably consumed two of the four turkeys the restaurant had prepared for the event. YUM!
After dinner it was time to work off the calories. We went salsa dancing. Even the kids got to go. Only in Central America… Sophia was on the dance floor until 10:30 PM. Like mother like daughter… But she could sleep in the next day since school was officially over. It ended on Turkey Day.
Sophia had a fun six weeks at Colegio San Antonio and made some friends. It also helped her get over her shyness to speak Spanish. She will now go up to street vendors and ask them questions.One of our favorite vendors is the guy who walks around with a tricycle that has a huge basket in the front. He sells oranges for 8 Cordobas each (about 35 cents) and peels them with a contraption that makes the peel come off in one strand. It’s the yellow stuff in the picture hanging from the handlebar. We have been taking it off his hands since he doesn’t do anything with it. It makes for fun and fragrant Christmas decoration on our palm trees. But I digress again.
Just because Granadians haven’t had a celebration in a while, it was time for another horse show. This time around it was “Hipica de Nocturno” and it started at 8 PM. We got to see some beautiful horses. As we found out later, it was a very impromptu event and not a lot of people knew about it since the posters didn’t go up until a couple days prior to the event. It brought back fond memories of the Hipica in August when there were over a 1,000 horses in the streets of Granada. I had never seen anything like that before.After the show was over, we met a bunch of cowboys at “El Club”. Some of them came all the way from Matagalpa which is a good 3 hours away by car. Not sure how long it takes on horseback.
This was the last night my girlfriend and her sister spent with us, so we decided to dance the night away since the cab was due to arrive at 4:30 AM. I think I fell asleep at 3:45 AM. Old age is catching up with me…
That morning we ventured off to Mombacho Volcano to do a Canopy tour. We had one remaining visitor and it was his wish to go on a zip line. I had never been on one and was torn between having 3 hours of nice and quiet and finally getting over my fear of heights.
I decided to face my inner demons. Plus, the guide assured me that I could try one line and if I didn’t like it, there was a way to return and hang with the boys at “base camp”. Well, it wasn’t quite like that. The first line was a practice line that hung 4 feet above the ground. When I freaked out after taking the first actual line 40 meters above the floor of the cloud forest, I was told that there were only 10 more lines to go. Trapped!
The second line was the longest and highest and I wasn’t about to go across. Luckily one of the staff decided to take me for a piggy-back ride. Except that I was going in front. Now, aside from being afraid of heights, I am also a control freak and hanging from a strap in front of the other guy wasn’t giving me a warm and cozy feeling either. So, after the third or fourth line it was time to grow up and have some fun. The boys seemed to enjoy it quite a bit and so did my 11-year old daughter for crying out loud!
So, when the boys decided to go upside down, I was going to follow their lead.I was hanging from the cable with my legs crossed above me and was told to lean back more so that I would be hanging head-down. At this point it struck me how stupid I must be to be hanging from a ¼ inch cable in the canopy of the cloud forest with my head pointing toward the ground. Old habits die hard…
Anyway, it was a fun outing. We saw a lot of flora and fauna of the area which was an added benefit. In retrospect I wish I had tried hanging from the cable to see what it’s like to actually live through the fear. Next time…
And just like that, November was over.
The Best Birthday Present
For my birthday Papi gave me a coupon to go on a zip-line tour together!!!!! We didn’t do the tour on my birthday, because we wanted to go as a family, but we didn’t have enough time until my mom and I were back from Seattle. So when our friends from the states came, we decided to do it with S on his last day because he wanted to go as well.
We walked to Calle Calzada to hire a guide. After everything was settled, we jumped in a van and drove to the bottom of Mombacho Volcano to do a canopy tour!!!! Mommy just wanted to come and watch, because she is foolishly afraid of heights. The guide said that Mom could do the first wire, and then see if she wants to do the rest. I didn’t realize that my mom didn’t realize that he meant the tester cable, four feet off the ground, not the first one high up. Mombacho Canopy Tour has 11 cables and 17 platforms. It is 2 km long and takes about an hour and a half.
After getting into our harnesses, helmets, and gloves, we took another van to where we would start the tour. Mommy and I did the practice rope, then our group climbed up the first platform. We got harnessed in and took off over the trees! It was a little scary at first because you didn’t want to spin around, you had to brake at the end, and going down the line was fast! Our group stood on the next platform, and Mommy thought this was where she could choose to go down or not. She wanted down. But there was no way to go back! She really freaked out and had a nervous breakdown because everyone was on the platform and it shook some. She calmed down, and there were monkeys! Once I had left :( they started coming towards the platform. S was wondering what the barking noise was. We said that it was the howler monkeys we had just seen. He replied that he thought it had been a dog or something.
On the next line Mommy traveled with one of the tour guides again. The platform after that had an extension type bridge connecting it to another platform and cable. The bridge was a bit shaky, but it was FUN!!! The following wire was slow, so I tried letting go with my hands! AWESOMENESS!!!
The boys were crazy. There was one cable where daredevil S flew horizontally, like Superman. On another, Papi and S rode upside-down!!! When we got to the other end, we waited for Mommy, the last person to go. I couldn’t believe my eyes-Mom was getting ready to do an upside-down one too!! While we watched, she lowered herself down. “Aww!! Why didn’t she?” When she was on our platform, she said she was all ready, but then the guide told her to lean back more and she freaked. Again.
I wish I had gone upside-down, but it was too scary to do on my first zip-line adventure.
Sadly, the last line came too soon. The guides shook the wire on the way down, making us bounce. We got off and walked on the trail back while sucking the sweetness out of ripe coffee beans. I told my Papi that this was the BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want to do that again!
By Sophia
We walked to Calle Calzada to hire a guide. After everything was settled, we jumped in a van and drove to the bottom of Mombacho Volcano to do a canopy tour!!!! Mommy just wanted to come and watch, because she is foolishly afraid of heights. The guide said that Mom could do the first wire, and then see if she wants to do the rest. I didn’t realize that my mom didn’t realize that he meant the tester cable, four feet off the ground, not the first one high up. Mombacho Canopy Tour has 11 cables and 17 platforms. It is 2 km long and takes about an hour and a half.
After getting into our harnesses, helmets, and gloves, we took another van to where we would start the tour. Mommy and I did the practice rope, then our group climbed up the first platform. We got harnessed in and took off over the trees! It was a little scary at first because you didn’t want to spin around, you had to brake at the end, and going down the line was fast! Our group stood on the next platform, and Mommy thought this was where she could choose to go down or not. She wanted down. But there was no way to go back! She really freaked out and had a nervous breakdown because everyone was on the platform and it shook some. She calmed down, and there were monkeys! Once I had left :( they started coming towards the platform. S was wondering what the barking noise was. We said that it was the howler monkeys we had just seen. He replied that he thought it had been a dog or something.
On the next line Mommy traveled with one of the tour guides again. The platform after that had an extension type bridge connecting it to another platform and cable. The bridge was a bit shaky, but it was FUN!!! The following wire was slow, so I tried letting go with my hands! AWESOMENESS!!!
The boys were crazy. There was one cable where daredevil S flew horizontally, like Superman. On another, Papi and S rode upside-down!!! When we got to the other end, we waited for Mommy, the last person to go. I couldn’t believe my eyes-Mom was getting ready to do an upside-down one too!! While we watched, she lowered herself down. “Aww!! Why didn’t she?” When she was on our platform, she said she was all ready, but then the guide told her to lean back more and she freaked. Again.I wish I had gone upside-down, but it was too scary to do on my first zip-line adventure.
Sadly, the last line came too soon. The guides shook the wire on the way down, making us bounce. We got off and walked on the trail back while sucking the sweetness out of ripe coffee beans. I told my Papi that this was the BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want to do that again!By Sophia
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Water Tank
Um, we reported in a previous blog that our casa does not have a water tank for
those (frequent) times when the water to the city is turned off and you need a backup. It turns out
that we do have a water tank. Discovering the tank is a pretty funny story.
The Widowmaker
First, let me tell you about the widowmaker. Since none of the bathrooms have hot water, we got our friend G to recommend a handyman (N) who went with Astrid to buy an electric heater. N screwed it onto the shower head and connected it to the three wires coming out of the wall near the shower head (we had wondered what those were for). He gave us careful instructions on how to use it. The careful instructions were necessary because it is quite dangerous if used improperly.
The water is heated by a heating element, using the same design as a toaster. You must turn it on only when there is sufficient water pressure, because if the element is heated but there is no water passing through, the element will burn out and could cause a fire. I saw this in action when N demonstrated how the electric heater worked. He unscrewed it to show me the inside of it, plugged two wires into the two plugs of an outlet, and the third wire into the ground. He then “turned it on” by simulating what happens when the water runs through it. The pressure of the water lifts mechanism that causes the electrical connectors to touch, and the electricity then flows, heating the element. Except of course there was no water flowing through the element. The whole thing popped like a firecracker and burnt out. Back to the store for another.
Later that week we found out that the popular name for the electric heater is
“widowmaker.” If it is set up incorrectly or there is a short, the
electricity comes into contact with the water and the electricity cascades down
on the person taking the shower, causing electrocution. For the Halloween party
on Saturday, we didn’t have costumes so Astrid dressed up all in black,
with dark shades and I wore the burned-out widowmaker on my shirt.
The Hamper Encounter
Perhaps tmi, but sometimes we walk around “sin ropas” in the house. This morning I was doing just that. Our living space starts on the second floor, but I need to walk down to the ground floor to check the circuit breakers. I scurried down the steps quickly, planning to close the two front doors so no one could see me naked. (We leave the gates locked at night with the doors open.) There were just a few seconds of risk. I made it without incident, shutting the doors but not closing them securely, then went into the laundry room to check the breakers. There was a knock on the door. It was G, coming to explain why we were being charged an extra $20 a month for TV cable when we didn’t want it and had already paid Claro to install the internet cable (long story). When he knocked, he pushed the door open to yell inside.
There I was, in flagrante delicto, around the corner in the laundry room. I yelled “un momento” and hurriedly searched through the laundry bag. Finding some old smelly clothes, I quickly put them on. He knocked again and I “un momento’ed” again and finally came out. We talked through the gate and I fixed my collar, which was not turned over properly. He told me we did indeed have a water tank, and pointed to where it was, up two flights in the closet to our bedroom. We just needed to find the turn-on valve. I told him we couldn’t look for it now, as Astrid was sleeping. He seemed to wonder why she was sleeping so late and why I wasn’t letting him through the doorway. And why it had taken me so long to come out of the laundry room.
The Water Tank
When G left and Astrid woke up, I told her about the Hamper Encounter. She
got a kick out of it. Because of the way her mind works, she imagined the event
from G’s perspective, complete with licentious shenanigans with two bodies romping sin ropas in the hamper. I guess you had to be there, or at least have
the right imagination.
We searched for the water tank but couldn’t find it. When J the pool mechanic came, he marched upstairs and into the closet and pointed to the ceiling above the shelves. He brought up a ladder and we both climbed up and into a small enclosure. There was indeed a water tank there, with a float that kicked in when the water level dropped, to pump up more agua. We held the float down and the pump kicked in. So that worked. But we couldn’t find the valve that actually opened up the flow of water to the house.
J and I looked in the bathroom, nothing there. J stopped for a second and eyed one of the knobs in the shower, but then passed it over. After J left, I walked down the block to find the landlady, who wasn’t home. FJ, the street’s cuidador (night guard), was further down the block and yelled to me, “Pablo, tienes una problema?” He came bicycling up. His cute little 3-year old was in a little bike seat attached to the metal rod in front of the bike seat. He showed me where his wife could sit in the back. Another person could sit on the handlebars and put their feet in a rod that came out from the front wheel, FJ said emphatically, “No, solo tres.” He is a careful man.
I told him the problem and he knew what to do. We walked up to the shower and, of course, the valve that J had eyeballed was the one that went to the tank. I had not mentioned it at the time because I knew it to be the hot water tap for the shower. It has an "H" on it, after all. Why I would think there was a hot water tap in a house without a hot water tank, I can’t tell you. I showed this to J who shook his head and said, “loco.” And he’s Nicaraguan!
So, another problema solved. If you're thinking of visiting (and have the courage), rest assured that you will be able to enjoy a hot shower.
The Widowmaker
First, let me tell you about the widowmaker. Since none of the bathrooms have hot water, we got our friend G to recommend a handyman (N) who went with Astrid to buy an electric heater. N screwed it onto the shower head and connected it to the three wires coming out of the wall near the shower head (we had wondered what those were for). He gave us careful instructions on how to use it. The careful instructions were necessary because it is quite dangerous if used improperly.
The water is heated by a heating element, using the same design as a toaster. You must turn it on only when there is sufficient water pressure, because if the element is heated but there is no water passing through, the element will burn out and could cause a fire. I saw this in action when N demonstrated how the electric heater worked. He unscrewed it to show me the inside of it, plugged two wires into the two plugs of an outlet, and the third wire into the ground. He then “turned it on” by simulating what happens when the water runs through it. The pressure of the water lifts mechanism that causes the electrical connectors to touch, and the electricity then flows, heating the element. Except of course there was no water flowing through the element. The whole thing popped like a firecracker and burnt out. Back to the store for another.
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| Widow and Widowmaker |
The Hamper Encounter
Perhaps tmi, but sometimes we walk around “sin ropas” in the house. This morning I was doing just that. Our living space starts on the second floor, but I need to walk down to the ground floor to check the circuit breakers. I scurried down the steps quickly, planning to close the two front doors so no one could see me naked. (We leave the gates locked at night with the doors open.) There were just a few seconds of risk. I made it without incident, shutting the doors but not closing them securely, then went into the laundry room to check the breakers. There was a knock on the door. It was G, coming to explain why we were being charged an extra $20 a month for TV cable when we didn’t want it and had already paid Claro to install the internet cable (long story). When he knocked, he pushed the door open to yell inside.
There I was, in flagrante delicto, around the corner in the laundry room. I yelled “un momento” and hurriedly searched through the laundry bag. Finding some old smelly clothes, I quickly put them on. He knocked again and I “un momento’ed” again and finally came out. We talked through the gate and I fixed my collar, which was not turned over properly. He told me we did indeed have a water tank, and pointed to where it was, up two flights in the closet to our bedroom. We just needed to find the turn-on valve. I told him we couldn’t look for it now, as Astrid was sleeping. He seemed to wonder why she was sleeping so late and why I wasn’t letting him through the doorway. And why it had taken me so long to come out of the laundry room.
The Water Tank
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| Scena de la Crima |
We searched for the water tank but couldn’t find it. When J the pool mechanic came, he marched upstairs and into the closet and pointed to the ceiling above the shelves. He brought up a ladder and we both climbed up and into a small enclosure. There was indeed a water tank there, with a float that kicked in when the water level dropped, to pump up more agua. We held the float down and the pump kicked in. So that worked. But we couldn’t find the valve that actually opened up the flow of water to the house.
J and I looked in the bathroom, nothing there. J stopped for a second and eyed one of the knobs in the shower, but then passed it over. After J left, I walked down the block to find the landlady, who wasn’t home. FJ, the street’s cuidador (night guard), was further down the block and yelled to me, “Pablo, tienes una problema?” He came bicycling up. His cute little 3-year old was in a little bike seat attached to the metal rod in front of the bike seat. He showed me where his wife could sit in the back. Another person could sit on the handlebars and put their feet in a rod that came out from the front wheel, FJ said emphatically, “No, solo tres.” He is a careful man.
I told him the problem and he knew what to do. We walked up to the shower and, of course, the valve that J had eyeballed was the one that went to the tank. I had not mentioned it at the time because I knew it to be the hot water tap for the shower. It has an "H" on it, after all. Why I would think there was a hot water tap in a house without a hot water tank, I can’t tell you. I showed this to J who shook his head and said, “loco.” And he’s Nicaraguan!
So, another problema solved. If you're thinking of visiting (and have the courage), rest assured that you will be able to enjoy a hot shower.
Friday, October 29, 2010
School and other Friends
Sophia finished her second week at school. Well, the second week was only four days long since Nicaraguans also observe All Saints Day and therefore no school was in session on Friday. What we have learned during these two weeks is that they have PE twice a week which requires the kids to come to school in their PE uniform, they wear regular uniform twice a week and on Fridays it’s free dress.We also learned that Sophia is in a classroom of 28 kids (herself included) but not all 28 show up all the time. And then there is the fact that there are kids in her classroom who seem to be in 4th grade. But then on Thursday those kids were out on the Plaza for PE while Sophia and the rest of the class were in the computer room. Could it be that they have 4th and 5th in one classroom? We will need to investigate that further. Starting in January she needs to be in the 6th grade classroom. That’s all I care about at this point.
Last week, a couple of neighborhood kids rang the door bell and wanted to talk to Sophia. She wasn’t in the mood to go play with them. So, they returned yesterday with some more friends and they all went out on their bikes. Luckily we had bought a bike for Sophia on Tuesday.
They went around the neighborhood for about 2 hours. Sophia came home all hot and dirty. They had gone to several of the kids’ houses to get water and to hold puppies. And at one house, the abuela had to use an alcohol swipe to disinfect Sophia’s scratch on her upper arm (an area of about 3”x3”) that she had sustained while falling into a hole. The bike didn’t get hurt, though. Thank goodness.Today one of the girls returned to pick up Sophia and we haven’t seen her since. It’s been a good two hours or so. We are very happy that she has made local friends.
Astrid
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Water
Remember how we looked at a minimum of 15 houses during the month of September to find the one we wanted? Well, you think we would have learned a thing or two while house-hunting… The only thing I can think of is that we were exhausted by the time we visited Casa Ellis and didn’t remember what to look for or ask about.
It turns out that we don’t have hot water which is alright except for the fact that I have to boil water on the stove to do my laundry. Not sure how people expect their clothes to get clean washing them with cold water. It doesn’t work in the US and it doesn’t work here. But I digress.
The second and more important thing we didn’t investigate was the water tank. Now, several of the previous home owners had proudly shown us theirs but again by the time we came to our house, we had simply forgotten about it. So, we don’t have one. What’s the big deal? It’s only a big deal when there is no water coming from the city which has only happened three times during the last two weeks. Why, you ask? We have no idea.
At first we attributed it to the fact that the water pipes in our neighborhood were breaking at an alarming rate. Luckily ours wasn’t one of them. Then we figured something larger must be going on. But when we learned that N never has water during the day and only in the evening, we felt blessed.
We have pool water to flush down the toilet (and to take a quick rinse), we have drinking water in a big 5 gallon plastic container, and we have ice cubes to keep the drinks chilled. What more can one need?
Astrid
It turns out that we don’t have hot water which is alright except for the fact that I have to boil water on the stove to do my laundry. Not sure how people expect their clothes to get clean washing them with cold water. It doesn’t work in the US and it doesn’t work here. But I digress.
The second and more important thing we didn’t investigate was the water tank. Now, several of the previous home owners had proudly shown us theirs but again by the time we came to our house, we had simply forgotten about it. So, we don’t have one. What’s the big deal? It’s only a big deal when there is no water coming from the city which has only happened three times during the last two weeks. Why, you ask? We have no idea.
At first we attributed it to the fact that the water pipes in our neighborhood were breaking at an alarming rate. Luckily ours wasn’t one of them. Then we figured something larger must be going on. But when we learned that N never has water during the day and only in the evening, we felt blessed.
We have pool water to flush down the toilet (and to take a quick rinse), we have drinking water in a big 5 gallon plastic container, and we have ice cubes to keep the drinks chilled. What more can one need?
Astrid
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Catarina
The next day I ventured off again to go to Catarina because our right-hand man G hasn’t been able to get soil for my vegetable garden. He brought me a bag of dirt that someone had sold him at the market and they must have just taken a shovel and dug up some ground next to the gas station. They surely couldn’t believe how dumb these gringos are to a) pay money for this and b) not to be able to do it themselves. The real reason was that G didn’t understand the difference between soil and dirt. Apparently, he has never grown anything in his life. Other than a beard…
So, onwards and upwards to Catarina on the chicken bus. Catarina is for plants as Burlington is for outlet malls. You can buy pretty much anything here that a gardener’s heart desires at very reasonable prices. You just have to figure out how to get it all home. Well, the guy who sold me two large bags of beautiful black soil and two huge plants wasn’t too far from the bus stop. So I figured I would be able to either drag the dirt bags behind me or find someone to help me.
And help they did… The first guy showed up in a three-wheeler and brought me to the bus stop. Then the conductor shoved the bags, the plants and moi onto the bus. And once in Granada, I fetched a cab to ride the loot home to Casa Ellis.
I have since planted my garden from the starts I had, the cats have since had fun digging it all up, and I believe that besides peppers and cucumbers nothing much will survive in the heat. Oh well, it was worth a try.
Astrid
So, onwards and upwards to Catarina on the chicken bus. Catarina is for plants as Burlington is for outlet malls. You can buy pretty much anything here that a gardener’s heart desires at very reasonable prices. You just have to figure out how to get it all home. Well, the guy who sold me two large bags of beautiful black soil and two huge plants wasn’t too far from the bus stop. So I figured I would be able to either drag the dirt bags behind me or find someone to help me.
And help they did… The first guy showed up in a three-wheeler and brought me to the bus stop. Then the conductor shoved the bags, the plants and moi onto the bus. And once in Granada, I fetched a cab to ride the loot home to Casa Ellis.I have since planted my garden from the starts I had, the cats have since had fun digging it all up, and I believe that besides peppers and cucumbers nothing much will survive in the heat. Oh well, it was worth a try.
Astrid
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Jinotepe
Our good friend P called from Jinotepe on Saturday (on our way to SJDS) to tell us about the perfect bike he had found for Sophia. One of the churches in town had a sale of donations from the States and the bike was one of them. He had them reserve it for us until we had a chance to come to Jinotepe to pick it up.
So, we went on Tuesday after school and caught the microbus to Jinotepe. Once there, we met up with P and had lunch at this amazing Malaysian restaurant that’s all vegetarian. Yum!
Then we checked out the bike. It’s pink with white tires and still had the plastic on in places. The nuns are no dummies and asked an outrageous price for it. P had already negotiated it down but it still seemed pricey. Anyway, we figured that the money was for a good cause and bought the darn thing.
Afterwards we went to the market to have some air blown into the tires and the seat and handlebar raised. That cost us another 8 Córdoba or 40 cents. Well, at least we got a deal on that… Now we need a pump, a kickstand and a lock. But maybe we can get that in Granada since we need to make the last Chicken bus home before they stop running.
Off to the bus terminal. The chicken bus is about to leave and he can put our bike on the roof. But it’s going to take us 90 minutes or longer to go home. The microbus would allow us to put the bike inside the van but they would charge us an arm and a leg for it. Highway robbery! So, we decided to go on the chicken bus after all and take a nice little ride through Masatepe, Diriomo, Diria and Catarina to end up back in Granada. Sophia is so psyched about her new bike that she rides it home from the mercado in Granada while mom is trying to keep up with her on hoof. First real exercise for me in more than three months…
Astrid
So, we went on Tuesday after school and caught the microbus to Jinotepe. Once there, we met up with P and had lunch at this amazing Malaysian restaurant that’s all vegetarian. Yum!
Then we checked out the bike. It’s pink with white tires and still had the plastic on in places. The nuns are no dummies and asked an outrageous price for it. P had already negotiated it down but it still seemed pricey. Anyway, we figured that the money was for a good cause and bought the darn thing.
Afterwards we went to the market to have some air blown into the tires and the seat and handlebar raised. That cost us another 8 Córdoba or 40 cents. Well, at least we got a deal on that… Now we need a pump, a kickstand and a lock. But maybe we can get that in Granada since we need to make the last Chicken bus home before they stop running.
Off to the bus terminal. The chicken bus is about to leave and he can put our bike on the roof. But it’s going to take us 90 minutes or longer to go home. The microbus would allow us to put the bike inside the van but they would charge us an arm and a leg for it. Highway robbery! So, we decided to go on the chicken bus after all and take a nice little ride through Masatepe, Diriomo, Diria and Catarina to end up back in Granada. Sophia is so psyched about her new bike that she rides it home from the mercado in Granada while mom is trying to keep up with her on hoof. First real exercise for me in more than three months…
Astrid
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Nicaraguan Luncheon
Last Sunday we were invited to have lunch at my friend’s sister’s house. They live right outside Granada on a huge piece of property that is gated. Pablito declined due to other obligations but Sophia and I accepted. So, off we went at 1:30 PM to arrive shortly thereafter at the casa. We first got a tour of the house which is absolutely HUGE and filled with antique furniture and art work from all over. And from what I learned later, the owner has a lot of her furniture in storage. Not sure what kind of house they owned before… When we walked into the kitchen my child exclaimed “Mom, that’s your kitchen!" She knows what makes me happy. One day, when I’m grown up, I will have a kitchen like that.
After the tour we ventured off to the garden where the party was being held. We were introduced to the host and her husband and about eight other people. The grill was going, the drinks were chilled and the sun was out. What else can one ask for? As we conversed with some of the guests, more people arrived. Sophia and I went to the pool room and after she was taught by S how to play, she beat me twice in a row. I thought that it was pretty amazing considering that she didn’t even know how to hold a cue until an hour ago… Or else I am not much of a player myself…
While we were shooting pool, we were being introduced to more people as they showed up at the house. At some point we went back to the garden to realize that the casual luncheon we were being invited to had expanded to a full blown garden party of about 50 or more people. We looked at Sophia’s watch and realized that it was 5 PM and we still hadn’t eaten yet. The hostess tried to convince us to stay since lunch was about to be served but we had to leave since Sophia had to go to school the next morning and her need for sleep was more important than the food.
We still aren’t 100% used to Nicatime…
Astrid
After the tour we ventured off to the garden where the party was being held. We were introduced to the host and her husband and about eight other people. The grill was going, the drinks were chilled and the sun was out. What else can one ask for? As we conversed with some of the guests, more people arrived. Sophia and I went to the pool room and after she was taught by S how to play, she beat me twice in a row. I thought that it was pretty amazing considering that she didn’t even know how to hold a cue until an hour ago… Or else I am not much of a player myself…
While we were shooting pool, we were being introduced to more people as they showed up at the house. At some point we went back to the garden to realize that the casual luncheon we were being invited to had expanded to a full blown garden party of about 50 or more people. We looked at Sophia’s watch and realized that it was 5 PM and we still hadn’t eaten yet. The hostess tried to convince us to stay since lunch was about to be served but we had to leave since Sophia had to go to school the next morning and her need for sleep was more important than the food.
We still aren’t 100% used to Nicatime…
Astrid
Saturday, October 23, 2010
San Juan del Sur (SJDS)
Last weekend we visited San Juan del Sur. This is the most famous beach on the West Coast of Nicaragua, and has received a lot of attention by developers in the last five years. Of course the boom became a bust two years ago. You can see the reasons for its popularity. It has a beautiful sandy beach and the ocean water is warm. There is a main drag of bars and inexpensive hotels and hostels relatively untouched by the influence of big business. The town gives you more the feeling of a community of residents than a resort overrun by tourists. That may be due to the time of year or the real estate bust.
We made the journey with our friends R and S in their SUV. The trip was about 90 minutes, and the roads are very good the entire way. The first thing we did when we arrived was to drive up the surrounding hillside (some stretches were at a 40 degree angle) to the statue of Jesus (Cristo de Misericordia) at the top. It reminds you of the famous statue overlooking the water in Bolivia. We hiked up the final 40 yards to the statue and paid the Nica price of 10 cords per person (50 cents), though by the raise of his eyebrow I’m sure he suspected we were not natives – perhaps the grade school level of our Spanish gave it away.The view was tremendous. The ocean was somewhat tamed by projections of land to the north and south. The stretch of foamy white water flowing to and from the shore was uniform throughout the entire stretch of beach. From there I drove the SUV back down the steep hillside. R was in the front seat but refused to look out the window because of the sharp angle. I told her what my father used to tell me: “Do what I do if you get scared, just close your eyes.” We drove through some unpaved side roads to check out the mansions that had been built by rich Nicaraguans, then drove back up a steep hillside to the Pelican Eyes, which is the restaurant that is part of the Piedras y Olas resort.
We ate lunch by the poolside. Sophia and S and I walked up the steep paved rock walkway to look at the cottages that were part of the resort. This is one of the resorts built during the height of the boom, and now appeared almost totally unoccupied. At the very top of the walk is another large swimming pool open to all the guests (also vacant), with an area of sun chairs that looked out over a view of the ocean. The beautiful S posed for us as we took pictures of everything.We drove back to the main street and parked. Astrid and R walked along the beach, while the kids (S, Sophia and Paul) played in the waves. Sophia learned to swim under the crests and emerge after they had passed by. The consistency of the waves make this an ideal place to learn to swim, boogie board or surf. We played until the sun went down, which it does quite quickly. One minute there is a full circle of sun, and in two minutes it is pitch dark.
We had ice cream afterwards and I met a paisano from Italy. My group took pictures of us because we both had striking Italian good looks, similar glasses and were handsomely pelon (bald). My friend had moved to Nicaragua 25 years ago, and ran a restaurant in town. We exchanged restaurant stories, heritage location and contact information and I promised to have dinner in his restaurant (El Colibri) the next time we visited the beach.We ran into a little trouble when it was time to leave. The gearshift error lights in the panel of the SUV would not go off, which meant that it was stuck in a low gear. R just waved over bystanders and asked them for help. People told us how to fix it (go in reverse then in drive) and when that didn’t work, they called their friends for help. All in all, there were probably 15 people involved either around the car or by cell. Finally the warning light went out and we headed home.
It’s a little disconcerting driving the highway at night. In some stretches you’ll hit a town without warning, where the people are congregated on both sides of the street in a little fiesta. Or there are motorcycles without lights and people walking next to the highway, again without lights. The most interesting/harrowing experience was a boy lying perpendicular to the road, with his head actually in the roadway, just resting and playing with his dog. I saw him in time to move to the left, and as I drove by he didn’t adjust his position.
This reinforced the impression that Nicas aren’t as concerned about safety as their paranoid American counterparts. Whole families including bambinos ride on a single bicycle; cars move through the city very aggressively, even with kids playing beisbol in the street; the sidewalks have so many holes (from missing manhole covers to the dug-out area where the water turn-off valves are) that people often walk only in the streets at night. I can’t help but think that the statistics (if they existed) would show that there were substantially more pothole and traffic-related injury/death per capita than in the states. Nicaraguans take it in stride; it’s what they know.
All in all, a very fun time, and we hope to return to San Juan del Sur several times during our stay here.
-- Paul
Friday, October 22, 2010
Los Murcielagos
As some readers (especially Jim) know, I am fascinated by rats. This is thanks to the skills of our ratter cat Pumpkin. No need to go into details (feel free to call or email if you want to chat), but the more rats you see captured, killed, munched and crunched (yes, those bones are quite crunchy), the more the disgust level decreases and the whole intriguing circle-of-life thing takes over.
So when I reported last time that our roofs had an infestation of flying rats (bats, or murcielagos) and that Pumpkin was delighted, I admit that I was looking forward to the show. They seem to fly through the house a lot less now that it is occupied, but one will occasionally zing past our heads at dusk. They’re still in the roof – below the metal that provides rain run-off and above the cane ceiling that runs above our heads – and Pumpkin continues to stalk them.
Yesterday morning there was blood on the tile downstairs and a tiny heart and a single forearm (with hooked digit used for hanging) next to our bedroom stand. This is Pumpkin’s specialty – eat both the outsides and innards including fur/bones/organs/teeth, but leave something for his masters. This is the reason you want your cats inoculated against rabies before you bring them to Nicaragua.
The night prior to Pumpkin’s bat dinner I had banged on the rafters with the long pole we use to scoop leaves from the pool. The bats are in our bedroom rafters, which extend out past the balcony outside our bedroom. It was out there that I was banging because of the commotion. After about twenty seconds, a bat flew out and into the open. I believe it was a case of coitus interruptus, because he flew in a less jagged path than usual, as though there was a rudder involved.
This was my only success at flushing them out so far. Other times I have banged inside the bedroom when the noise level got too high, but they would just be silent for thirty seconds then continue the party.
Why are the bats partying in the rafters at night? Why aren’t they flying at that time? Is it mating season, since the scurrying seems to imply a ritualistic dance of some sort? Dunno. They don’t seem to mind the occasional pounding of their homes, and we sleep with earplugs anyway because of the banging of cathedral bells. So it looks like we’re going to co-exist for awhile.
-- Paul