El Salvador-Nicaragua 2003 (3)

Hello all!

Well - much time has passed... We've been to paradise, to hell and now we're going back to paradise BUT minutes before writing this message I read a message about two fellow (how to say when they're female) climbers who are missing on a mountain in Alaska... so, it's hard to say waiting three hours in the sun for an absent bus classifies as hell, really... but, I'll write as I had to on my travels through Italy, France and Spain after 9.11 ... aware of the harsh realities out there but also happily aware that life must go on... a lesson that is pounded into me every day as I pass many needy animals and people... with not much to do but toss a cordoba (local currency) or a piece of bread...

So - first, "paradise" ... or not. Well, yes mostly. The beach as I mentioned before is mostly isolated and we stayed in the surf camp run by this sweet, generous couple. The food is cooked daily over a fire and consists of varieties of the following key items (minus pollo for me, plus pollo for Jered): rice, tortilla, beans, scrambled eggs, avocado, tomato, salty cheese and onion - nothing more, nothing less... and very tasty, seasoned only with a bit of salt and occasionally salsa, if the possee has left some to be had... Not the glory meals of Zonte in El Salvador which consisted of the most intensely flavorful tuna salads, fish sandwiches, fruit shakes big enough to satisfy a small army and cafe con leche that packs a punch... unlike the local instant coffee with powdered creamer and white sugar that gets us by at Matilda's ... oh, but wonderful all the same! I never miss a meal and I savor every one as if it were from dramatically different ends of an 8-point star shaped spectrum! Our co-habitants are sand crabs that come in this perfect combination of purple and orange shells... Jered tossed one off him the other night while sleeping, cursing their existence... but personally, I think it was just another one of his nightmares... as they happen every night, usually with him sitting up and talking to some mystery conversation partner... either with hostility or with apology... what gets into that boy's head during the night is beyond me, but no matter how much I talk to him when he's in that state, he never remembers in the morning... so I don't think the crab existed... but throughout the day around our feet, they certainly do!

The waves... ah yes, the waves. How they beat me down in Nicaragua... common theme... ready for a change of genre all together I think! The first day we surfed here was great... nice easy to catch waves... but then the wind shifted and came in from the south rather than across from the lake - causing blownout, closed out shit-for-waves... It sent me down a viscious spiral of pseudo depression and loss of confidence... Jered was still out there making it happen, but I couldn't even get past the inside half the time, spending 20 minutes duck diving and dunking like I was a dolphin forced to perform at Sea World or a pig's donut on the night shift... no fun and no choice in the matter... then I'd come out like a wet rat terrier with my tail between my legs and I'd slink over to some mix breed canine and try to just blend in with the sand... After I gave up surfing and resigned myself to preparing for the class I have to teach when I get home, making all efforts to be as brown as possible when that day comes, life got better... That is, until sunset... at which time... I fight for another cause....

The Turtles! Oh the poor turtles... this is one of those life goes on moments... You just have to live and let live sometimes, even when it sucks donkey... you know what! So, the Leatherback turtles had their laying season... now it's that of the Green Turtle... The first night at Matilda's I had the pleasure along with many gringos of watching the beautiful dance of a turtle burying her little offspring, to be hatched and happy in the ocean 60 days later, from which point, of 100 eggs maybe 1% will become a 40 year old, breeding-ready adult... yes, 40 years of age before breeding can happen... but even with those dire stats, the people poach and poach... both for turtle meat and turtle eggs, which shamefully are pushed on the men here as erectile disfunction anecdote... there is a campaign to educate and it is illegal to poach, but that doesn't stop them from marching up and down our little beach every night with flashlights in search of recent turtle tracks, which resemble the track of a caterpillar tractor, leading them to the nest... The night we saw the turtle bury her batch, we covered up her tracks and two gringos pitched a tent on it... the poachers didn't get that one, but the next night, they dug at least four enormous craters along the beach, where they undoubtedly scored... but, in their defense, they make a hell of a lot of money and where there is demand, there will be poaching... it's not quite at the level of conservation and protection that Costa Rica boasts, but maybe someday... maybe maybe...

So, after a week with Matilda and Antonio, sharing books, hammocks and travel stories with Canadians, Swedes, English and even Irish! we hit the road and began our journey to the Island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua - Isla Ometepe... where we climbed a volcano and swam in the lake... more to come...

We have to figure out some details about life in the present moment.... We'll be on line tonight and tomorrow, so drop a line with a word about home, wherever that may be!