New year’s in Nicaragua

My initial impressions of Nicaragua as I entered the country in a semi-trailer, were of a similar feeling to Cuba: people hanging out on the street, on chairs outside of their houses, houses with doors open giving the opportunity for people to peer in as they walked past, girls showing their skin liberally, large mix of skin colours with an island feel to the place.

We spent New Year’s in Leon, a town near the border of Honduras which attracts many tourists for its colonial heritage and its fame for being one of the oldest towns in Nicaragua. After many hours of comparing hostel prices, we finally settled on one which had a nice vibe to it along with a decent price. We met some Spaniards (the only people who could speak Spanish in the hostel so that Agustin could also chat) and decided to go to a beach party that was located on an island nearby. Instead of going with the organised tour which picked you up from the hostel and took you back from the island at a particular time, we decided to make our own way there thinking that it would be cheaper and would also mean that we could leave whenever we wanted to.

We arrived at the small wharf where the boat was leaving to go to the island and after some intense negotiating, the boys organising the party decided that we were being unreasonable asking for a discount (even though we had made our own way there and would be doing the same going back). They decided to not let us on. We were disappointed and annoyed especially that it was New Year’s and we didn’t have anywhere else to go and little transport available. I had a moment of insanity after a few drinks and decided to blame Agustin for the whole shemozzle we found ourselves in. I walked off into the darkness by myself thinking I could find a taxi. I was quickly chased after and scolded for my actions and attitude and almost immediately after, a taxi appeared. After a bad start to the night, the rest was a lot more enjoyable and involved several different parties and bars back in town with quite a big group from the hostel. Midnight passed without any count down or anticipation until someone turned around and gave me a hug and in the middle of the embrace, I realised what was going on.

The next morning I woke up swearing that the end of 2010 will be celebrated much healthier than this New Year’s just passed. The first day of the year was enjoyed by going to the closest beach possible where everyone else had also decided to go, been a Nicaraguan tradition to go to the beach on festive days. The beach, instead of being a relaxing paradise, was turned into a mayhem of food vendors, people shrieking and running around in and out of the water with wet clothes (no one had a swimming costume on, all were in the water wearing the clothes they had on when coming to the beach), groups of people almost on top of each other and rubbish in all directions. After eating a fried fish from one of the many vendors leading up the beach, we walked away from the havoc and encountered a strip of beach which hardly anyone was using and where a small bar was playing reggae music. We were kindly accepted as customers even though the place was closed to the public and instead a small private party was taking place. We spent the last few hours before sunset looking out at the beautiful view of water and sand, swinging on a hammock with promises that a new year carries.

The next day we were off to Masaya, a town which doesn’t have much of a big reputation in Nicaragua apart from being a cultural centre with a crafts market and has a nice laid back feel to it with a pretty town square. We stayed with some couch surfers here who were very hospitable and were big talkers, interested in any subject imaginable and very open to sharing about their lives. I spent an afternoon with Nina chatting about the civil war that occurred in Nicaragua and the state of things at the moment.

We spent five days here visiting surrounding towns, volcanoes, lookouts, fortresses and even the local hospital (for Agustin’s possible broken toe after he regularly banged it on objects sticking out of the footpath – we stayed for over an hour and with no sign of seeing a doctor, we left deciding that it probably wasn’t broken after all). The walk up the volcano was an interesting adventure and is worth a mention here. We left nice and early thinking the earlier the better as the sun is super strong as the day carries on. Arriving at 7.15 am at the entrance we are informed that the national park (the entrance to the volcano) doesn’t open till 9.00 am and no matter what we said, the man sternly did not budge. I had an idea. We made our way back onto the main road and I indicated to the several different properties bordering the park. We jumped over a small barbwire fence that encloses a hotel which is all locked up and doesn’t look like there are any guests housed at the moment. We make our way through to the back of the property and came across two workers. We ask them if there’s any way through to the national park from within the hotel grounds and at first they both say no but after a bit of insisting, the man admits that there is a way. We are shown the path leading into the bush. We set foot and make our way through scrubland until we hear a whistle and see that the man from the hotel has followed us in, to tell us that we are heading the wrong way. He shows us how to get back on the right path and shortly after, we find ourselves on the main road leading up to the summit of the volcano. A little adrenalin hit kicks in as we contently start the gentle trek up the road knowing that we are the only ones in the park at this present moment and that we also saved about 10 dollars (a lot in Nicaragua… or when you are travelling!). At the top of the volcano (which we reach in about two hours) we see smoke escaping and smell the stench of sulphur in the air but the view is worth the two hour walk.

On the one hand, Nicaragua is similar in many ways to other Central American countries. People are poorer here, jobs are a little harder to find and the cost of living is high comparatively to what people earn (the minimum salary is around $150 per month). There are many more tourists here than what we saw in Honduras for example (which was pretty much none). The markets aren’t as clean as in other countries with a lot of rubbish dispersed on the floors. But there is a lot of fresh produce, vegetables, fruit, cheese, beans and meat available in most markets that we came across. Bicycles are everywhere and they rule the road without law. The political party in power at the moment (FSLN), is the one who fought in the civil war in 1961. The traditional food which is eaten often for all three meals is gallo pinto = a mixture of rice and beans and quesillo, a tortilla with fresh cheese, pickled onion and cream. Tortillas are common as well as platanos, fried cheese, fermented vegetables and a cabbage and carrot salad mix.

Our next stop after Masaya was an Island which is known as the largest island in the world surrounded by fresh water: Ometepe. Two menacing volcanoes lie on the land, which helped to form the island when they erupted. Our journey over from the mainland was on a small ferry with a severely strong wind, which made the trip very undulated to say the least. Most of the time on the island was spent on buses even though the distances aren’t so large, the roads are very bad; dirt, potholes and many rocks that make the place resemble Ireland. We did get to do some kayaking to a small island with monkeys hanging off it, looking as if they were keen to move to bigger territory as well as watching many beautiful sunsets on the beach.

My wish before heading to the rancho in Costa Rica to start work was to spend some time on a beautiful tropical beach, relaxing and catching up on reading and studying Spanish again. As we got to the beach (near San Juan del Sur), two things happened; the tent that we were going to live in for the next 3 days broke and the wind picked up something terrible. The hostel where we were going to camp let us stay in one of their rooms that they were extending on but which didn’t have a door to it and also wasn’t attached by a walkway meaning that we had to walk over a plank of wood to get to our room, suspended 8 metres in the air. We had two hammocks to sleep in which one wasn't as comfortable as the other. The wind blew throughout every night and throughout most of the days that we were there for. We had sand in every orifice imaginable. There was no point in taking a shower because you were guaranteed to end up the same way, if not worse 2 minutes later. The wind blew so heavily at night that I was unable to sleep and neither was anyone else in the hostel. Having no door to our room made the sound of the wind seem as if a cyclone was approaching. The tin roof didn’t help.

I was glad to leave San Juan and be away from the insane wind that had been taking over the beach while we were there. Of course as we started to leave on route to Costa Rica, the wind died down and beach paradise resumed without me.

Honduras, navidad and the coup

We arrived in Honduras Monday night, dropped off by the bus that we had caught from El Salvador, through the mountains crossing one of the smallest border crossings I have ever come across. Having just rained, the bus struggled over the steep climbs and the muddy roads that were chiseled out of the rock below us, sometimes sliding over the surface and sending my stomach to my throat within a gulp.

Landing not exactly where we wanted to be and learning that there was no public transport after 6.00pm, we asked around and managed to get a ride with a drink truck that was heading to the same town as us. Now this drink truck is an open-air truck with individual compartments for crates to be stacked in. We slid into a compartment and held on as we swiftly made our way up another mountain, yet again over another very muddy path, which I was informed, was where the truck had gotten stuck earlier that morning. The wheels skimmed through the slush that lay on the ground and my heart beat faster and faster as I planned my jump if we did happen to turn over. Luckily for all of us, we didn’t and we arrived safely in La Esperanza, the highest town in Honduras. We were greeted by a big group of Peace Corps volunteers who were all in town for a small xmas party. They were all absolutely lovely, preparing us drinks as we walked in and making us feel very welcome.

La Esperanza is a small town with 3 awesome markets! And lots of beautiful mountain light, muddy streets, with a coolness that’s not found anywhere else in Honduras. It’s the most indigenous part of the country and also the poorest. Not many tourists in these parts! It’s fairly small with a population of something like 20,00 people, and has a scattering of shops and a couple of small shopping centres, which are mainly deserted and look a little out of place amongst the rural setting. The recent coup d’etat which occurred 6 months ago has left few marks on La Esperanza. The only sign are the tags that are present on the walls around town which cry out against the coup.

We spent 3 days in La Esperanza and were introduced to Baleadas (the national food of Honduras), a tortilla made out of wheat with beans, cheese, cream and sometimes egg and avocado. One of the best street foods I have tasted! Chris, our CS host took us around town while chatting about his experiences of living in Honduras for the last 2 years doing water and sanitation projects through Peace Corps. It reminded me a lot of the time I spent in Timor, living with Joel, also a Peace Corps volunteer. I reminisced about the complexities of living in a relatively small, new community and learning about the culture and the customs of the place, while juggling a new job and understanding how go about the work (not to mention learning a new language!).

We left La Esperanza on Xmas eve heading to another CS’s house (Rony) to celebrate with him and his family. Once again we were greeted with open arms, this time into a Honduranian family’s home. Rony and family live beside a gym, which is owned by his brother. They live next to their aunty who owns a hairdressing salon and behind them is their uncle. In front of their house lives another uncle and next to him Rony’s brother…and so on it goes like this! The whole family is close, not just in proximity but also emotionally. In Nicaragua (as it is custom in many other countries), the 24th is celebrated more than the 25th. That night, as more and more family members appeared, the mariachis commenced to play their Mexican tunes. Not a very Honduranian tradition, but with this family it is. Couples danced together in a small courtyard in the back of one of the uncle’s house. As the Mariachis finished, the party was moved to the aunties house where punta was being danced in the front room (also known as the hair salon by day), a traditional dance from Honduras which is a mixture of merengue, calipso and afroantillanos, danced by moving your hips sensually along with toe steps. Bodies bounced around rhythmically shaking their bom bons around or just plainly rubbing bodies as if it was reggaeton. At midnight hugs and kisses were exchanged and good wishes for the new year. We moved to the street where firecrackers were let off by the boys of the family, regressing to their childish days. All around the streets the same was being done by other families, filling the air with festivity but also sometimes jolting me a little out of my skin by the bomb sounding noise. Dinner was served at 1.30 in the morning by which time I wasn’t so hungry but on saying that we didn’t get to bed till 5.00 and the party continued without us till sunrise.

The 25th was non-existent. No lunch or dinner, everyone was too hungover and tired to do anything which made me feel as if Xmas had peeked a little too soon. We went to the hotel that Rony works at and hung out at the pool, planning our trip to Tegucigalpa for the next day.

We set off for Tegucigalpa with apprehension. Everyone had told us that it was an ugly city and that it was a dangerous place to wonder around, with many muggings, murders and violence on the streets. We caught a lift with a couple who were heading to the border and who dropped us off quite conveniently, at the entrance of the city. One lift later and with a lot of luck, we were driven all the way to the house where we were going to be staying at, organised quite kindly through a contact from my old work in Australia. We were led to another house that was newly vacated but which still held a lot of the ex-tenants belongings including some food. It was a big house of 3 bedrooms and two storeys high, located on one of the many hills of the city. Having this house for four days all to ourselves was pure heaven after being on the road for so long.

Tegucigalpa is a city located on a chain of mountains with a series of hills surrounding the city. The sunrises and sunsets from these mounts are all breathtaking (well at least I can testify to the sunsets being so!). The city has a river that winds itself through the centre (separating Tegucigalpa and its sister city Comayagüela) with bridges joining the two parts together, offering a big market on the other side. Within the city itself lie streets filled with old crumbling buildings, big pieces of chipping paint dangling off in jigsaw puzzles, large cracks decorating the walls, old signs loosing their brilliant glow that they use to wear and amongst all of this, lie a consortium of newly painted graffiti displaying anti-coup messages in all shades and colours. The cathedral that carries a nice shade of freshly painted peach, was subjected to this same graffiti a little while ago and was therefore repainted to cover up the resistance brewing in the centre.

Our second day in Tegucigalpa encapsulated chasing around town for a resistance concert that was meant to be in the National Autonomous University but the security guards there hadn’t heard of any event being on that day. We were told that the Jesuit University is more supportive of the resistance and might be holding the event. We were quickly bundled into a car with three old blokes that had also appeared at the gate with the intention to attend the concert and who later we learnt, are part of the liberal party who were ousted by the coup government, one of them being a minister.

All gates were closed at the Jesuit University. The three men were trying to decide what to do while we borrowed one of their phones to call a journalist contact that I had obtained through work. She answered straight away and suggested that we meet up at her house that afternoon in a small town in the outskirts of Tegucigalpa.

The journalist’s house was located on top of a valley with amazing views of the mountains in a peaceful but popular tourist village called Santa Lucia. She designed her house herself and has many interesting stories about each item on display, including many paintings. She is an eccentric, passionate woman who likes to tell stories. She cooked us a light but lovely lunch of handmade tortillas, cheese, beans and salsa while she told us a little about her life as a journalist. After lunch we went for a walk in the village which was populated with day trippers, families spending a Sunday outside of the city and locals. A small lake in town attracted a lot of Sunday strollers while rustic cafes framed the main street selling pupusas and baleadas as well as ice cream. We walked through town to the quaint square and up the steps to the lookout while the journalist revealed in small bursts, information about the coup and then quickly hushing herself as she realised that there were ears and eyes all around. Further down lay a church and a café with a nice view of the village which is where we stopped to eat ice cream and listen to the journalist tell us in complete detail and confidence, about the situation in Honduras.

A summary of the main events leading up to the Coup d’etat:
• The President Manuel Zelaya made radical changes during his presidency, January 27th, 2006 to June 28th, 2009 (which is when the coup occurred) :
- Raising the minimum wage from 3400 to 5000 limpiras – many corporations were angry with this change
- Making public schools free – schools angry with this change
- Closing down the US army base and replacing it with an airport – the US and many corporations were angry with this change (they obtain money from the US)
- Referendum to convene a constituent assembly to change parts of the constitution – “Opponents called these plans a veiled attempt to unconstitutionally eliminate presidential term limits and usher in Chavez-style socialism. Zelaya and his supporters claim that he was attempting to modernize the Honduran Constitution to better serve the country, noting that any reforms would be enacted after Zelaya's term”
• June 24th 2009 - the head of the military command refused the order to pass out election materials. Zelaya fired him and later that day the defense minister and the heads of the army, navy and air force resigned
• June 28th 2009 - soldiers illegally entered the presidential palace early in the morning, arrested President Zelaya and put him on a plane to Costa Rica. Zelaya denounced these actions as a coup. Micheletti presented a false letter saying that the president resigned and took power
• Media in Honduras was immediately restricted by the military with some either forced to shut down or halted its transmission
• Protests emerged in support of the President Zelaya with unions announcing a national strike. The military resorted to violence against protesters and resistance leaders
• International opposition to the coup was wide spread with the United Nations General Assembly adopting a resolution calling for the reinstatement of Zelaya as the President of Honduras
• July 2nd 2009 – Honduran Congress passed an emergency decree that limits public gatherings allowing the military to be even more brutal against protesters. Protests continued with large numbers attending
• July 5th 2009 - The president attempted to enter Honduras with the support of several other presidents such as the Presidents of Argentina and Ecuador but was turned away by soldiers and obstacles on the runway. The plane was diverted to San Salvador. Huge protests were held at the airport in support of Zelayas return. Many people were shot at by military, arrested and tortured
• September 21st 2009 – BBC News declares that Zelaya is back in Honduras and has taken refuge in the Brazilian embassy
• September 22nd 2009 – The Micheletti coup government suspends five constitutional rights: personal liberty, freedom of expression, freedom of movement, habeas corpus and freedom of association
• Negotiations are being made by both parties which come to no avail. Zelaya refuses to recognise the November 29th elections
• The elections occur on the 29th of November with an absence of 65% of the population
• Approximately 150 activists have died so far. On the side of the coup supporters, two soldiers have died (who supposedly were killed by other soldiers) and a daughter of a journalist who was killed by a football gang. Many people have been sequestered, beaten, tortured, raped and killed.
• The media is intently biased in favour of the coup and spreads propaganda against the resistance such as that the resistance are the culprits for many killings that have occurred
• The resistance is a non-violent movement and involves protesting through marching on the streets, through graffiti on the walls, through exhibitions and through concerts and talks. There are approximately 2 million supports of the resistance

As the journalist conveyed all of this information, she became agitated and obviously upset about the situation she was explaining. Back at her house, she showed us photos of people having been injured, tortured and killed. She also showed us some of her files that she has been compiling reporting on each incident that has occurred against the population during the coup. She had 100’s and 100’s of these files which have all been sent to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights.

We left the house with a lot of information flowing through our heads, feeling a little overwhelmed and sending our solidarity with these people fighting for their rights.

Artists have united to join force with the resistance and to use their art work to diffuse anti coup d’etat messages. We went to see a photo exhibition which was put on by the artists of the resistance and which revealed photos of the last six months during the coup. A band played on the opening night and the next night featured a talk with three resistance members from the coup and artists participation in the resistance. At the end of the talk, some of the names of the people who have been murdered since the coup occurred were read out, making us leave the exhibition in a somber and pensive tone.