May 27, 2014
I slept pretty well despite a saggy mattress. It was actually quite comfortable if I got
into the right spot. I didn’t want to
wake the girls, so I just hung out and used the internet until they got
up. The free pancakes were self-service,
but the batter had cinnamon in it and they were tasty enough. After breakfast, I went to the bank and then
to the post office to mail some postcards.
I picked up my clean laundry and lugged it back to the hostel, stopping
to buy bananas from a street vendor along the way. By then, I was overheated, so I hung out for
a bit and drank a bottle of orange juice until I felt up to going out again.
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| Bombed out Church of San Sebastian |
My first planned stop was the Museum of Legends and
Traditions. It was off the map I was
using and I only knew in which direction it was, not how far. Nicaragua has a very different system for
locating places than that to which we are accustomed in the United States. While the streets do technically have names,
there are almost no street signs and houses are not numbered. Nicaraguans start with a landmark and then
tell you how many blocks and in which direction to go to find your desired
location. An address would be something
like Cathedral, 4 blocks east, 2 blocks north.
While this is somewhat confusing, it actually works pretty well for
travelers. The upside is that
Nicaraguans all know exactly how many blocks away something is. They give good directions. Unfortunately, I walked right past the
museum, which was actually off on a side street. I walked down to the church of Guadelupe,
around that and on to the cemetery before I gave up and trekked back up the
hill. Along the way, I saw the church of
San Sebastian, which had been bombed into oblivion during the 1979 air
strikes. Workers were chipping the
plaster off what remained of the structure, possibly in preparation for
repairs. There really wasn’t much left
of the original structure. The ruins
looked as old as the ones in Antigua which were 200 years older.
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| The Museum of the Revolution |
I was hot and a little frustrated, so stopped at a nice
restaurant called Sesteo off the main plaza to eat some lunch. I had a tasty shredded pork quesadilla. After lunch, I walked across the plaza to the
Museum of the Revolution. There isn’t a
whole lot to the museum, but it is staffed by veterans of the war who make
excellent guides if you speak Spanish.
My guide, Juan, had been in combat at the age of fourteen. He walked me all around the museum and explained
every photograph to me. He insisted I
take a picture of him under the photograph of his unit on the wall. The men who work there are very serious about
educating visitors about the war. When
they found out I was from San Francisco, the whole group of them cheered and
shook my hand. Juan related to me the
entire history of the revolution from the time Sandino went to Mexico in the
1920’s through his first resistance in the towns of Ocotal and Esteli where we
had been, to his assassination after being invited to sign a peace agreement in
1934.
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| My Guide, Juan Under His Photo |
The Somoza dynasty continued to repress the people, killing
students and intellectuals who opposed their regime in 1956. The revolutionaries attempted uprisings, but
didn’t have the arms necessary to defeat the National Guard. The United States supported Somoza both
because the Sandinistas were seen as communists and to protect US interests in
the country. In 1979, the third Somoza
was implicated in the killing of an American journalist. The killing was captured on videotape. The United States withdrew its support from
Somoza and the Sandinistas finally acquired the necessary arms and ran the
third Somoza out of the country. He was
later assassinated by an Argentinian in Paraguay. During the Reagan administration, the United
States covertly assisted the reactionary forces (the “Contras”), until the news
broke in 1988 that the US was selling arms to Iran to finance the war in
Nicaragua. The resulting scandal put an
end to US involvement, the Contras were defeated, and the war finally ended.
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| Murals in the Courtyard of the Museum of the Revolution |
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| American Ordnance from the War |
The Museum of the Revolution was housed in what was left of
the former military headquarters of the National Guard. It consisted of some murals on the walls of a
dirt courtyard and a lot of very degraded photographs in a couple of rooms. There were a few pieces of US financed
ordinance on display. The museum would
have been a yawner if not for the enthusiastic guides who brought the story to
life. One thing that was notable was
that women and children had fought on both sides. Leon is a city built of masonry and it is
nearly all crumbling. Much of the decay
is due to age, tropical climate, and lack of resources for repairs, but the
process was definitely accelerated by bombs, bullets and rockets during the
war.
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| Museum of Legends and Traditions |
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| Papier-Mache Figures |
Juan had told me where to find the museum of Legends and
Traditions, so I headed back down there after I left the Museum of the
Revolution. The museum is housed in the
former 21st garrison where Somoza’s National Guard used to torture
prisoners. It is located across the
street from the bombed out church of San Sebastian. From the cathedral, it is half a block to the
right, on the street before San Sebastian.
Today, it has been transformed into a lovely garden. The murals depicting important events from
the war contrast sharply with the goofy papier-mache figures from Leonese history
and legend made by the founder, Senora Toruna.
Since I have a history of making giant papier-mache figures, I enjoyed
these. I also enjoyed the beautiful
mosaics on the surrounding walls.
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| Murals Depicting Torture at the 21st Garrison |
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| The Cathedral in Leon |
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| Interior of the Cathedral |
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| The Roof of the Cathedral |
I walked back up the hill to the cathedral and went inside to
view the architecture and artwork. The
cathedral was begun in 1747 and took 100 years to complete. It is the largest cathedral in Central
America. Its design was originally
approved for construction in Lima, Peru.
The leaders of Leon submitted a more modest, but bogus, design for
approval. Then the architect, Diego Jose
de Porres Esquivel, pulled a fast one and built his grand design in Leon. The current cathedral is the fourth
incarnation on the site, the second of which was burned by pirates in 1685. A modest adobe was used until a more lofty
structure was begun. The artwork inside
is notable and I had a moment of deja-vu, recalling all the churches I had
visited in Italy. While the inside is
traditional European cathedral, the rooftop, with its numerous white domes,
recalls Moorish architecture. The
cathedral is in the process of being replastered. I climbed the bell tower to visit the roof,
where the plastering job has been completed.
It was all snowy white and magnificent.
The view was good, although not spectacular, as the church is not
particularly tall. Visitors were
required to remove their shoes before walking on the sparkling plaster.
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| My "Model" |
I continued on several blocks west and north from the
cathedral to visit the Entomo-logical Museum, but they had closed early. I passed several interesting churches on the way. While taking a picture of one of them, a young deaf girl insisted that I take her picture, too. She enjoyed playing model. Finding myself in the neighborhood of the
grocery store, I stopped to buy a few items and then made the long, hot trek
back to the hostel. It was only 4:00,
but I was done in. I had chugged a
bottle of cold water from the grocery store on the way back, but still consumed
another bottle of water and a beer when I got back. I studied a little Spanish and took a nap in
a hammock. After dark, I wandered up the
street and ate some tasty fish at a restaurant called Mi Casita that was
crumbling colonial on the outside and minimalist modern on the inside. The fish was called curvina. It was mild and tasted like tilapia, although
Wikipedia says it is a saltwater fish.
Whatever its origin, it was tasty with garlic and lime. My main goal in going out for dinner was to
find iced drinks. I sucked down a large
glass of iced orange juice (fresh squeezed) and a bottle of water with
ice. When the live music started, the
volume blasted me out of the restaurant and I returned to the hostel to spend
the evening writing.
May 28, 2014
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| View from Side of Cerro Negro |
My ride arrived at 8:00 am to take me to Cerro Negro to go
volcano surfing. Volcano surfing
involves hauling your board (about the size and shape of a snowboard) up to the
top of a cinder cone and then hurtling back down over the sand and ash. I was the oldest person in the group by about
30 years, but was the first one to the top.
The view was pretty amazing. We
could see the Pacific Ocean off to one side and the tallest active volcano in
Nicaragua off to the other. Cerro Negro
had several craters. We climbed up to
the rim of the main crater, left our boards and protective gear there, and then
continued to the summit. There were bugs
everywhere. They were attracted by the
smell of sulphur, but then starved to death because there was nothing for them
to eat. I found myself covered in moths
and beetles. Mammals were then attracted
to the feast of dead bugs. Our guide,
Miguel, showed me a picture he had taken of a porcupine sitting right on the
summit.
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| Our Guide, Miguel |
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| Tallest Volcano in Nicaragua in Distance |
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| The Slope We Boarded Down |
Cerro Negro has a 45 degree slope. The descent is about 500 meters long. It is possible to go very fast. People have been clocked at nearly 100
kilometers per hour. Before descending,
we had to suit up in elbow and knee pads, silly canvas jumpsuits that fit no
one, goggles, and gloves. There were two
options. One could either descend
sitting, which tended to be faster, or standing like a snowboard. Since I had never mastered the art of
snowboarding, I elected to sit. I doubt
I was going exceptionally fast, but it felt like I was flying. Dirt was spraying into my fact and I couldn’t
see a thing. I fell off a few times, but
never lost my board and was able to get back on and continue. One of the girls chickened out and had to be
walked down. A couple of the guys took
spectacular spills, but no one was injured on the way down. A young man from Germany fell off the path on
the way up and scratched his knee.
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| My Volcano Surfboard |
We all looked like chimney sweeps by the time we got to the
bottom. We waited to collect the whole group
and watched people sliding down the slope.
When our whole group had descended, we hiked back to the van and had a
snack of fruit before driving back to Leon.
The road to Cerro Negro was an adventure in itself. Nearly all of it was dirt and we had to keep
backing up to let oxcarts or horse drawn wagon go past. On the way out, we passed an entire herd of
Brahma cattle. Despite having spent half
an hour dusting myself off before leaving and more time in the courtyard of the
hostel, I still dumped a large quantity of volcanic material on the floor of
the bathroom when I disrobed. I took a
long shower before I felt some semblance of clean again.
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| One of Many Patios at the Art Museum |
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| Ortiz Gurdian Art Museum |
We got back about 2:00.
By the time I had showered and grabbed a quick lunch of tuna and
crackers, it was nearly 3:00. I was
tired, but wanted to accomplish something else before the end of the day, so
set off for the nearby Ortiz Gurdian Art Museum. The museum occupied an entire block of large
houses that had been joined together. It
was a labyrinth of rooms and patios, all of which were open to the air. The collection was extensive and began with
15th century Spanish and Italian pieces. It covered Latin American art from the
Spanish conquest to the present day.
There were pieces by Picasso, Miro, Matisse, Braque and Diego
Rivera. The contemporary works were
dominated by figurative pieces depicting the agony of repression. There was also a very nice 3-D rendering of
the park they plan to make out of the ruins of San Sebastian (the church
destroyed by air strikes in 1979.) They have already erected the roof over the
site and are planning a level floor, planters and attractive lighting at
night. It reminded me of the lovely
monument that the City of Berlin made out of the Marienkirche, destroyed in
WWII. Unfortunately, photography was not
allowed. It was a very nice museum and
in the best repair of anything I had seen since leaving Guatemala. I spent nearly two hours there and was ready
to fall into a hammock with a cold beer by the time I returned. I spent the rest of the evening doing as
little as possible.
May 29, 2104
Thursday was kind of a wasted day. I could have said it was a rest day, but I
really didn’t need a rest day before heading off for a week at the beach. I had a leisurely breakfast of pancakes and
pineapple and sipped a cup of coffee.
Then I walked over to the bank to withdraw enough cash to pay for my
week at the beach, since the lodge didn’t accept credit cards. For the third time, I walked across town to
the entomological museum and finally found it open, although that may only have
been because I arrived just as the caretaker was buying a papaya from a street
vendor. She had to take the covers off
all of the cases so I could see the bugs.
The museum was in the front half of someone’s patio. There were a lot of impressive bugs, but not
much in the way of useful curation. I
did manage to identify the huge flying insects that had attacked me as
cicadas. For some reason, I had thought
cicadas were more grasshopper-like.
These were more like giant, long winged flies.
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| Iguana at Tortuga Booluda |
On the way back from the museum, I stopped for a
smoothie. Then I tried to buy a cellular
modem for my computer like everyone used in El Salvador, since the internet at
the hostel was so poor that I couldn’t post to my blog without it timing
out. Unfortunately, they were not yet
available in Nicaragua. It felt like a
conspiracy. I went back to the hostel
and spent the afternoon reading, writing and studying Spanish and then had a
late lunch of pizza, which was enough to insure that I would be lazy all
evening, as well.
May 30, 2014
The girls got up early and moved to the dorms. They were planning to go volcano surfing and
wouldn’t be back until after checkout time.
We said our goodbyes. It was fun
traveling with others for a bit, but I was ready to be on my own for a
bit. Our “triple” room had three beds,
but not much floor space. I was feeling
a bit cramped. It was nice having the
room to myself for a few hours.
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| Mural at Bigfoot Hostel |
The night desk clerk had told me to remind him to make a
shuttle reservation in the morning. When
I tried to do so, there was a different clerk who told me I had to physically
go to the Bigfoot Hostel to make the reservation. The Bigfoot Hostel was on the other side of
town, but it was overcast and relatively cool, so I didn’t mind the walk. The clerk at the Bigfoot Hostel told me to go
across the street to the Get Up Stand Up Surf Shop to make my reservation. They had no problem taking my money, but
didn’t really know how the shuttle worked.
They told me to ask the Bigfoot Hostel.
What I was able to gather was that I had better get myself and my
luggage to the Bigfoot Hostel by noon if I wanted to be sure of a ride. Fortunately, the fare was only $4 and there
was another one at 3:00, so there wasn’t much at risk.
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| Mausoleum of Heros and Martyrs |
I had been looking for the monument to the Heroes and
Martyrs of the Revolution for several days.
I just randomly decided to take a closer look at what appeared to be a
half-finished sculpture in a park near the cathedral and was surprised to find
that I was looking at the memorial.
There was supposed to be an eternal flame, but it was unlit. What I had thought was rebar sticking out of
the top, were actually empty flag poles.
The general effect was rather sad.
The mausoleum was raised by the mothers of the dead, who have probably
passed on by now, leaving fewer people to maintain the site. Each grave had a headstone surrounding the
“torch.” Murals were painted on the
walls of the buildings adjacent to the park.
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| Mural at Heroes and Martyrs Monument |
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| Horse Parking |
I went back to the hostel to hang out until it was time to
schlep my bags to the Bigfoot Hostel. I
marveled at the number of horse-drawn vehicles competing with cars and trucks
for parking and threading their way through traffic. Almost all construction materials and debris
were carried in wagons. Our street
featured a newly burned out building and another that was being gutted. All over town were facades held up by braces
as the structure behind was being replaced.
Apparently, Leon was trying to maintain its colonial appearance, at
least on the outside. Unfortunately,
that extended to crumbling sidewalks, missing cobblestones, and uncovered water
meters and sewer clean-outs. It was a
miracle that the whole town wasn’t on crutches.
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| Burned Out Bar |
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| Over the Bar at Bigfoot Hostel |
I checked out at 11:00 and rolled my baggage across Leon to
the Bigfoot Hostel. I did my best to
take streets paved in asphalt, rather than cobblestones, and to avoid the
busiest shopping areas, but I still had to fight my way past the supermarket. The Bigfoot Hostel looked like a great place
for under 25 year old die-hard partiers.
The music was blaring. My shuttle
was supposed to leave at noon.
Unfortunately, about 11:45 a young man appeared to tell me that the noon
shuttle was cancelled. I sat in the
lobby, listening to the music and trying to read, until a bit after 2:00 when
the volcano boarding group arrived and all packed into the lobby to watch the
day’s photos on a TV above the bar. It
got insanely loud and drove me outside to wait on the sidewalk. It turned out that the shuttle was the big
four wheel drive truck that they used to take people volcano boarding. They packed it full of young people going to
the beach to party for the evening, a few kids going to the hostels at the
beach and me. At the last minute, when
the truck was already full, I heard someone calling my name and Eliza and
Brianna hoisted their packs aboard and jammed themselves in. They weren’t sure where they were headed, but
they were moving to the beach somewhere.
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| My Cabin at Surfing Turtle |
The ride to the beach took a half an hour or so. It was overcast and reasonably cool at the
beach. They dropped everyone else at the
Bigfoot Hostel in Las Penitas and then took me to Poneloya where I could get a
boat to the island where the Surfing Turtle Lodge was located. A newlywed couple from New Zealand had also
just arrived and we shared a boat to the island. The lodge sent a horse drawn carriage to pick
us up.
The Surfing Turtle Lodge was a simple place, but it had
everything I needed. I had reserved a
private beachfront cabin with my own bathroom.
The cabin was on stilts and had a thatched roof. It had a front porch with chairs and a
hammock. It even had a closet. The whole front was screened with curtains
for privacy. The private rooms were
upstairs over the lobby and shared a bathroom.
There was also a dorm on stilts above the beach, which looked pretty
fabulous. There were a few tents pitched
under the cabins. The bar was in the
same building as the lobby and featured swings for bar stools. A separate building housed the kitchen, with
a large covered eating area in front.
Everyone was very friendly. A few
dogs and a litter of kittens completed the picture.
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| The Beach at Surfing Turtle |
I unpacked, had a couple of beers, and ate a hamburger for
dinner. After dinner, I hung out in the
lobby for a while, using the internet.
Despite being off the grid, the internet was better than it had been in
Leon. Finally, I retired to the hammock
on my front porch to watch the lightning in the distance and the fireflies
sparkling all over the beach. It was
pretty magical.
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