Nicaragua is a country with "emerging tourism" that is about 30 years behind Costa Rica. San Juan del Sur became a tourist town only 10 years ago and the cruise ships started coming shortly after, but only about 13 a year. The talk on the street is that Royal Caribbean has plans to build a dock so the ships do not have to emply tenders. Most tourists are Americans, some of which have stayed and started businesses that provided employment for the locals. The real proof that organized and sanitized tourism does not reign supreme is that the people on the tourism brochures look like your next-door neighbors in natural poses and not beautiful models artfully staged.
In her presentation, Deborah, our port lecturer, told us that Nicaragua is a poor country of 6 million people with a checked past subject to several military dictatorships that was taken over by the Sandnoistas in 1979. Toilets are few and far between. Items to take ashore included toilet paper, hand sanitizer, raincoats to prepare for the quickly changeable weather conditions and water. Education is not compulsory so we might find children who have been sent by their parents to beg for money on the streets. While she told us not to expect things to be painted and pretty, we found many things to be beautiful and bright.
When we exited the tender with Sergio and Noemi, Noemi negotiated in Spanish with a tour manager who approached us for an eight-hour excursion in a four-wheel drive van to wherever we wanted to go, time permitting. However, our guide, Carlos, did not speak English. The old expression of "we're just along for the ride" became Ken's and my motto for the day with us paying our share of the cost and depending on translations by Noemi, originally from Venezuela, and Sergio, born and raised in Mexico. Yes, it was an interesting way to learn about a new country that led to another resolution for when we return home in May--learn Spanish. I think that Ken will be better at it than I am because language classes in high school and college were only courses for me to suffer through to meet the requirements for graduation. (Okay, I was inducted into the Latin Honorary in college but what country speaks Latin?) Ken can probably use the Rosetta Stone but I will need a face-to-face course with an extremely patient teacher.
Our guide showed us the official red and black flag with the letters FSLN of the Sandonistas that most vehicles carried for when the police stopped them. The officers tended to find something wrong with the driver or vehicle if no flag was displayed. The government now requires the citizens to purchase visas to travel outside the country. Many Nicaraguans would like to work in construction jobs in Costa Rica but now that country requires them to leave a deposit at the border of $100, which will be returned when they return but is a sum that many residents cannot afford.
We traveled on a simple, two-lane highway on our trip to Granada. Our guide explained that many accident occurred, especially at night because there were no lights, the animals were allowed to wander freely, the scenery was monotonous so drivers fell asleep, and the drivers took unwise chances to pass slower vehicles. We watched men climb onto the back of the crowded local buses to enter them eventually through the back door as other passengers exited. The humble houses along the road were well taken care of and painted bright shades of purple, aqua, blue,lime, terracotta and gold. The lawns were well tended with no garbage. The cows looked healthier than the ones in Costa Rica, which seemed to be the Slimfast diet, thanks to the thick sugar syrup they were fed to plumb them up.
Our first stop was to take photographs of the Concepcion and Maderas Volcanoes that seemed to be floating in the center of Lake of Nicaragua. Here we saw signs of what could be ugly Americans with empty bottles and cans littering the shore. Our second stop was near the small town of Catarina to take a photograph of the beautiful Apoyo Lagoon. In the town, vendors were barbecuing chicken on the street corners, and Ken purchased a local, white, collared shirt and laced in the front. Another resolution for Ken is always to try on clothes before buying because this shirt turned out to be too small.
The feature attraction of our trip was the Parque National Volcan Masaya with the Ninderi and Masayan volcanoes with an entrance fee of $4.50 per person for nonresidents. While the Santiago Crater is still active, the last eruption was in 1517. It was the site for sacrificing children and virgins. When the Spaniards arrived in 1529, they gave the natives the choice of converting to Christianity or being sacrificed. The Spaniards erected the cross at the top crater to exorcise the demons of Hell. We were warned to spend only 20 minutes in the in the Carter area because of the gas emissions that could irritate the eyes and respiratory tracts. The security regulations also advised that "in the case of rock expulsion, you can protect yourself under the car." After too many visits to the Panorama Buffet and the Club Restaurant, we were not sure we would fit! While I refrained from climbing the uneven steps to the look-out but Ken told me that two young ladies asked to take his picture while he was climbing.
Our next stop was to be a cruise of around Las Isletas in Lake Nicaragua,one of North America's largest fresh-water lakes. This chain of 365 tiny, palm-tree covered islands, one for each day of the year, was created by the volcanic activity of the Mombacho Volcano. But when we arrived at the lake, the skies opened for a downpour so we decided to forgo the tour to protect the cameras. Carlos drove us to the main square that was busy with locals and tourists on a lazy Sunday afternoon. By the time we walked around the square, the sun was shining brightly. We talked with Mark and Susan, who gave the Princess tour of the Las Isleta rave reviews. We learned that we could buy an island for as little as $140,000 and build our dream home on our own private island. One owner found his island too small for a home so he turned it over to monkeys who entertained the tourists.
Rather than take a tour of the lake, Carlos suggested that we return to San Juan del Sur, his hometown, for an experience we would never forget. Of course, we were game for this invitation. Once there Carlos drove us through the neighborhood where many politicians owned large, luxurious, well-maintained homes. While the 4-four drive van had air conditioning, Carlos turned it off while we were climbing the hill to the second largest statue of Jesus in the world. While I have not personally seen the one in Rio de Janeiro, but have that city on my travel wish list, I was overwhelmingly impressed by this rendition of the Savior. We walked up the curving steep steps to the platform surrounding the statue. From every angle, this work of art was magnificent.
Carlos told us the wonderful story of how the Jesus in ti Confio came to be. The original cross on the hill top, that now lay flat on the balcony, seemed to be made of aluminum pipe. A man from Costa Rica was involved in a horrible accident in San Juan del Sur and truly believed he would die. When he defied the odds and lived, he provided the funding to have the statue built. The $2 entrance fee is used for the church's charities so the Jesus in ti Confio is the gift that keeps on giving.
After driving down the hill, Carlos remembered our request to purchase beer and stopped at a supermarket where we not only bought cerveza Victoria, a delicious addition to Ken's "Beers of the World Tour," but also stocked up on Flor del Cana, a rum produced in Nicaragua, and a bottle of wine for me, for fewer than $20 a couple. Ken has since declared the beer worthy of its national status and the rum "drinkable but not remarkable."
When Carlos dropped us off at the tenders, the men wanted to rush back on the ship with their precious purchases. Noemi and I decided to add to the local economy by shopping at the market the locals had set up for our passengers. Here I bought a T-shirt for Ken that actually fit him and a lovely, long cotton skirt to replace the one that I had failed to pack but had specially purchased for this trip for when we traveled in hot, Islamic countries that wanted a woman's knees covered. What I appreciated most about my purchase was the about 10-year-old daughter of the owner who told me in several times in English that the skirt was a "good buy." In the future, she should have a lucrative career in marketing.
Shortly after 5 p.m., we decided to make out way to the tender area before the last tender at 5:30 p.m. As we approached the boat, the crew member in charge of the set-up committee asked us what were are room numbers and wrote them with a black marker on his arm. "I think you are the two last people to come back," he replied, "so I will telephone the ship that you are on your way." I knew that Ken would have no problem believing that I kept shopping until the last minute. Noemi and I just hoped that they were not making an announcement on board for us to call the purser's desk because we had not checked in. So after the crew members loaded all the table, water containers and paper cups, we sailed back in our own personal "water taxi." As the crew members helped us onto the ship, we thanked them for our private limousine ride and told them we would like to do it again in the future. Yes, we really were along for the ride! It was a perfect ending to a perfect day!
