Shopping

This post may be a little scrappy because I am kinda sick right now, but here it goes anyway...


The bus set sail out of the big city. Reflecting back, I dont know what I was thinking. There were numerous borders to cross all of which I had no currency for and I had a cumulative eight ciky cookies to tide me the whole way. I also hadnt eaten much the night before or in the morning. Right off the bat, my stomach rumbled out to me and in about five minutes, my cookies were consumed and I had nothing else to tide me over. Energy was also something I didnt have to my advantage. I hadnt slept well the night before and it was now becoming more apparent that I hadnt eaten enough either, so with that, I tried to close my eyes and wait out the rest of the trip.

This plan of action was useless. A few hours later, I was awoken while we were still on the highway to one of the bus attendants telling everybody they needed to prepare their passports for the pending border check. I checked my pockets and of course, my passport wasnt there. I had spaced once again and realized that it was in my backpack in the cargo bay below the bus. When I told the man, he grunted in disgust and told me to hold on. A group of travelers around me who seemed to already know my name reassured me that it was no problem and that the man was just being rude. Either way, I really didnt care at this point and returned to my sleeping post curled up against the window.

About ten minutes later, I was woken again by the same man and was told to wait at the front of the bus. Once I got there, I waited for a while and watched from the large front glass pane at the numerous cars traveling by highway. Another few minutes went by and at no place in particular, the bus pulled over to the side of the highway and opened its doors. The man next to me jumped out and told me to come with him. He ran over to the cargo bay, opened it and began tearing through luggage until I signaled to him which bag was mine. Quickly, I opened up the top and fumbled through the many loose items i had placed in there until I found my passport. All the way, the man was trying to hurry me along, but in my current condition, it still just didnt really matter to me. I took my time in finding what I needed, threw my bag back in the bay and ran back onto the bus. They driver kicked it into high gear and we were cruising the highways again in no time.

I have to say, I felt a little bad about sluffing people off every time they wanted to talk me, but something had grabbed ahold of me and I was thoroughly exhausted. Either way, that didnt stop them. They were all very nice and found great interest in the foreigner on the bus. Most of them were nicaraguan, the rest were guatemalan and all had business to attend to in Managua for one reason or another. They also kept asking me to play the guitar and I continued to politely decline. The guitar was also currently below the moving bus in the cargo bay.

The first boarder back into El Salvador was hit while the sun was still out. There we got off the bus, unloaded our luggage and waited for inspection. Like always, it took a long time for the officers to even show up to check out luggage. Once they were there, it was a pretty quick process, but adequately frustrating because of the loading and unloading of every bag. Entering this country was the quickest and easiest of the night. A few people bought some food before the currency change rendered their money useless but it was mostly an off the bus on the bus type of affair. After my luggage was checked and I had safely stowed everything back on the bus, it was back to sleep for me in my little corner.

Eventually, we hit the road again and I woke up just in time to see the colors of the sunset light up the sky. It was kind of enchanting knowing that in a few hours, I would be back in Nicaragua and making my journey to Isla de Ometepe, the volcano islands that had captured my imagination since back when I was living in San Diego. On the downside, and as every journey thus far has been, it just wasnt as easy as imagined.

With the sun gone, it was impossible to see much of anything out of the windows. Dim lights were on inside the bus and it was still early enough that everybody was fairly alive with chatter. At this point, I came out of my slumber and decided to be a little more social. I remember talking for a while with the passengers, but i cant remember what about. I do remember however that they all had names that I couldnt hold on to. It made me feel pretty bad because it felt like everybody in the bus knew my name. If ever something was said from the front of the bus, I had ten people yelling my name and making sure that I understood what was going on.

We rode for hours on end. So long that I began to wonder if I was on the right bus because I know El Salvador isnt the largest country. Around midnight, we hit the border into Honduras. Nothing eventful happened at this cross, it just took forever and I started to feel my stomach giving me orders to feed it. Too bad I was in no position to do so. The guards also took their time to check everything at this stop. Honduras I had noticed was always very thorough with their check points. Everybody on my bus had nothing to hide and passed the exam. Maybe an hour later, we were traveling the Honduran highways.

The bus had quieted down and many of the passengers had dozed off for the evening. I decided to do the same in hopes of waking up in a few hours at another border cross. Some unknown amount of time later, I awoke to the same feeling I had earlier when I took the overnight bus to Flores. The bus was full of humidity, sweat and B.O. I peeled my face from the leather seat to look around and of course, we were stopped and from the look and smell of everything, we had been stopped for quite some time. Still in Honduras, I knew I was penniless and had to wait it out.

I tried to sleep but it was useless. I just ended up doing what I usually do in these situations and close my eyes in hopes of forgetting about my surroundings. This went on for hours and at one point, I opened my eyes and it was light out again. The sun had risen and the day was anew but we still werent moving. A few more hours went by and now the entire bus was awake and demanding that we get going. Just to play with us, the drivers took their time with whatever activities they had been attending to and eventually got back on the bus to get a move on.

The open windows and cool morning air quickly blew the sleep from our eyes and rinsed us of the sweat and stench from the stagnant night before. Even though I was awake, I could feel the coarse scrape of my eyelids against my bloodshot eyes every time I blinked. looking around, everybody else looked the same. After some time had passed, my stomach began roaring again to which I tried to muffle out the noises. A kid behind me eating a package of cookies heard it and quickly offered me some. I thanked him and took a few. It wasnt much, but it was enough to satisfy my body and offer a little more energy to my present situation. Soon we would be hitting the Nicaraguan border and I needed to formulate my plan of action. At this point, I was kind of reserved to spending the night in Managua even though I knew it was a dangerous place to be. I just hoped we would arrive when it was still light out unlike last time.

Hours passed and eventually the bus stopped at the border line. It took a little over an hour to proceed through the checkpoints to get onto the other side. As I mentioned before, there are two stops to every border check. After passing through customs on the Honduran side, we loaded up the bus and drove a few hundred feet over to the Nicaraguan side to do the same chicken dance all over again. Once we were packed up and back on the bus, I started to really set out my plan of action.

I think a few posts back i told a little lie. If i remember correctly, I said I had about 20 dollars worth of Nicaraguan currency. Not true. I didnt have anything. We strolled into the new country and everybody's spirits were lifted. Our journey which was supposed to take fifteen hours was now hitting the twenty-four hour checkmark. First and foremost I knew i needed to find an ATM when we got to our destination. without hard cash, I wouldnt be able to get anywhere and in Managua, you always want to be able to get to where you need to go. Because I was on only my own time at this point, I decided to take my time getting to Ometepe which probably meant spending the night in Managua and taking a bus into Granada before making the final plunge.

Hours more passed and the bus eventually rolled into a gas station to fill up. A few people left the bus but the drivers wouldnt let anybody stray too far as they wanted to get going quickly. I poked my head out the window and saw a sign saying there was an ATM in the mart. I ran off the bus and told the drivers to wait for me. They started yelling at me as i ran into the mart but I had to give the ATM a chance. I got in quickly and tried my luck. amazingly, fortune fated me well and I was able to withdraw cash in Nicaraguan currency. Money in hand, I ran back out to see the bus started up and driving off. Once again my heart sunk to my stomach as I knew my guitar and backpack were in the cargo bay. I took off running after the bus and it pulled a quick turn in the parking lot before stopping. I picked up my pace to a dead sprint and began banging on the door. The drivers were laughing at me, but they opened it up for me to board. They asked me what I was doing and when I told them, they nodded in acceptance and then got the bus moving again. With a belly still on empty but cash in my pocket, I was ready to fare the streets of Managua. I now knew that my first order of business in the city would be to find an internet cafe where I could look up a hostel to stay in for the night.

We drove for a few more hours before we reached the city. As soon as we entered it, I knew we had arrived. Street vendors flailed their arms harassing people for their business as passersby yelled back. Cars sped rapidly in all directions and it looked like sheer pandemonium. On top of that, the bus stopped and I got off to find that it was the wrong stop. My friends on the bus hurried me back on because they said they knew which stop had a local internet cafe near it. Bullet dodged, I sat and waited.

My exit finally came and the passengers let me know it. They sent me off the bus with smiles and I thanked them for their help and company. The bus ride at that point had taken nearly thirty hours and with a travel fried brain, I set foot into the rampant streets of a dark city.

I passed through the market centers asking everybody which way to an internet cafe. People would lead me in false directions and it took a while before some of the shopkeeps would lay it on me straight and tell me I was SOL.

A little down, I knew I had to make a rash decision and very quickly the best idea that jumped out at me was to keep moving. As I had been strolling the city, a man kept harassing me about bus tickets to Granada. I had already ignored him a good three or four times, but on this pass-by, Granada seemed like it could be a good place to go. It was still relatively early in the day and I would get there around sundown. It was also a heavily traveled tourist location so I knew there would be internet cafes and hostels-a-plenty. As I passed the man, he yelled at me again about tickets to Granada and I asked how much. After haggling with him a little bit, we reached an agreement and I hopped on.

I had actually scored. I was in the front seat of this little van and everybody else that ended up piling into the back after me were packed like sardines. I knew exactly how they felt and was sure I would experience that type of travel again so I relished my spacious passenger side seat. We drove for about two and a half hours before the bus stopped in a cobblestone alleyway. Everybody got off as if they knew exactly where they were and where they were going. I on the otherhand was entirely lost. I confirmed with the driver that we were in Granada and that we were close to the city square. He told me we were and gave me directions so I payed him and off I went.

My head was light, my stomach in revolt and my body dragged. in the past 30+ hours, I had eaten a handful of cookies and hadnt consumed any liquids. The weight of my backpack nearly leveled me and even the light guitar seemed overly excessive at this point. Step by step, I trudged into the city square where everything was vibrant and full of light. It was exact opposite of every emotion I was currently feeling. Still I pressed on. On the other side of the square, I spotted a sign that said internet and guided my feet toward it.

It was a beautiful building and a restaurant/hotel. In my given state, I knew I needed food so before getting a computer, I eyed the menu. Everything was grossly overpriced so in my stubborn way, I purchased myself a fresca, the cheapest thing on the menu and sat down at a computer. I ravaged the internet to find a hostel and sure enough, a cozy little place called "Azul" popped up that fit my budget and personality. I got directions, wrote them down and headed out.

With a little bit of sugar in me, the trudging was made marginally easier but still painstakingly heavy. Food was still an important objective at the time, but the sun was going down and I didnt know if the city was safe or not so lodging remained the top priority. I walked for blocks and blocks and and with every corner I turned, three more popped up. Before I knew it, my directions were useless, my vision was blurry, it was dark out and I resorted to asking people for directions. about three people and many blocks later, I finally rolled into Azul where two happy nicaraguans greeted me. I got right in and they put me in a dorm of which I was the only guest.

Without the weight of the backpack tying me down, I was a reborn man ready to fill his ailing stomach. I asked one of the Nicaraguan guys if it was safe to go out at night and he assured me that Granada was the safest town in the country. The other guy backed up his claims so I then asked them where I could get some dinner. Directions given, I set out walking but couldnt find anything... well I couldnt find anything that didnt look absolutely disgusting. I ended up settling that night for some tortillas, a strange type of cheese and a fresh loaf of bread that I thought would be useful to snack on.

Later that night, the guy from the hostel (Nicaraguan guest, not employee) took me to the city square where he then left me to make a phone call and I walked around for a bit. Eventually, I sat down on bench where I intended to relax and people watch. The square was alive with kids running around and adults enjoying the night after a hard days work.

In the distance, I saw two kids heading my way. There is an intuition I have come to master and it is knowing when people are going to hassle you, or when they are fixed on something else. These kids were going to hassle me... or at least thats what I though. The two of them asked me how I was doing and then both took a seat on either side of me. I was sure they were going to ask me for money, but it never came up. When they found out I was from California they began asking question after question as to how it was and what I was doing in Granada. After conversing for a bit, they asked me if I wanted to buy some pot. Slightly disappointed that that was all they wanted, I sighed and said no. They then asked me if I wanted to smoke some pot. I looked at them again and told them I didnt want anything to do with it. They noted the disdain in my voice and then backtracked. They told me I didnt have to pay for anything, but wanted to know if I would go with them. Still I said no.

The subject then changed. They told me there was a big party at one of the clubs tonight and asked me if I wanted to go. I said that I would go to that and then we were back to the general conversing from before. The kids were young, maybe 17, 18 and were actually very nice. After a while, one looked at me and said in english, "lets go shopping."

I asked what he meant and he told me that they were going to go get some pot. At this point, I had established a little relationship with the kids and decided why the hell not. Lets go get some pot. We walked through some of the side streets still fairly close to the city square. I felt safe with the kids and trusted them, but made sure that I still knew exactly where I was. About a block later, one of the kids told us to wait and he ran off. The other stayed with me and we sat and chatted about Granada. A few minutes passed and the kid who ran off showed up again with a big grin on his face. We immediately got up and started walking again.

The kids rolled a quick joint on the go and passed it around as we headed back into the city square. When we got there, they asked me if I liked coffee. I said of course and with that, one kid ran off and returned with three cups of coffee. We drank and watched the commotion of the night, refilling our cups many times. Every time I offered to grab the next cup, they shot me down and refused to let me pay. It was a latin american experience unlike any other from people that I had randomly met on the street.

The night grew late and the streets grew thin. Off in the distance, a group of three ragged looking kids were heading our way. I thought they were friends of my new friends but they walked straight up to me and asked me something in English. With my caffeine rush, fatigue, and having spent the night speaking spanish, I wasnt quickly caught off guard. I asked them to repeat themselves and they sheepishly asked in goofy Israeli accents if I knew anywhere they could get some pot. I laughed out loud and my Nicaraguan buddies were eager to hear the translation. I told them and the same smirk quickly appeared on their faces. I let the Israelis know that they had come to the right place and right afterward, one of the kids next to me looked at the crew and said in a heavy nica accent, "lets go shopping."

The Israelis didnt understand, so I let them in on the little bit of new slang. I also told the Nicaraguans that I was going to go back to the hostel and get some sleep. They were alright with it as they had new friends to entertain so I thanked them, shook their hands and said goodnight. Before I left, one of the Israeli kids asked me in a whisper if they could trust the Nicaraguans. I assured them that they had found the best kids in the town and that they had nothing to worry about. With that, I made my way back to the hostel and promptly passed out. After a whirlwind of travel and an impromptu night on the town, I was ready to knock out, and knock out hard.