Nicaragua...spirit of the revolution

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I can't help being a nosey parker here - nights are still and sticky so the locals pull their rocking chairs onto the streets to catch any stray breeze. The stable doors to their houses are thrown open to reveal colonial parlours that provide little clue to what century we're in. The wooden wall clocks tick slowly by to the pace of life and the eyes of the obligatory Virgin gaze down tenderly. On the pavement, old ladies smile warmly as I wish them "Buenos Noches" and stroll along past their living museum.

In the town centre the vast cathedral dominates central park - the largest in Central America. Legend has it that a fake set of plans were submitted to Spain before work began in 1747. The tomb of Ruben Dario, Nicaragua's most famous poet can be found here, bearing the inscription "Nicaragua is created of vigour and glory, Nicaragua is made for freedom! Everywhere in town you can see graphic reminders of the struggle for this freedom; murals are pro-Sandinista and depict revolutionaries in all their glory, the martyrs are immortalised forever in paint.

Ruben Dario on Wikipedia creates

The 'Heroes and Martyrs Museum' is a heart wrenching reminder of how many people of all ages stood up to defend their freedom. There is something fascinating about the concept of revolution and in a way I am envious of the people that feel so passionately about a cause that they are prepared to die for it. Here you can see the photo's of those that died in the conflict in Leon, their mothers run the museum without wages or funding to tell the stories of sacrifice.

The revolutionaries fought for the liberty of the people, for democracy, for freedom from a dictatorship that cruelly left it's to people suffer whilst growing fat on the profits of corruption. One example of the abuse of power was in 1972 when an earthquake devastated the capital city Managua, killing 6,000 people and leaving 300,000 homeless. International aid poured in but all of it was pocketed by Somoza and his henchmen and they let the people starve to death. They tried to get rid of him peacefully but after negotiation failed the uprising succeeded - the FSLN occupied the Palacio Nacional, took hostages and made denmands. The revolt spread and Sandinista supporters in other cities took to arms despite military counter attack and bombings. In 1979, the FSLN were victorious but the White House was dissatisfied with the new government and their allegiances with Cuba and the Soviet Union. In 1981 Ronald Reagan suspended all aid to Nicaragua and started funding the contra revolutionary groups. When this funding was officially halted Reagan secretly continued, using the CIA to illegally sell weapons to Iran and sent the profits to the Contras. Eventually, with democracy restored, the people craved peace and voted the FSLN out, this year, they are celebrating 30 years of the revolution, Daniel Ortega is President again and the people are still proud of their victory.

For travellers in search of something a little more thrilling than roaming the streets and museums of Leon, beautiful as they are, there is also the option of volcano boarding. The Cerro Negro is one of the youngest volcanoes of Central America, first appearing in 1850 and rising to a 400m black ash cone. After a jeep ride into the park we lug our plywood boards up the sandy slopes to the peak. We are told to hold the boards flat against our stomachs as carrying it under the arm in this wind might just send us rolling over the edge! At one side the edge is nothing but an expanse of black volcanic ash but to the right is the crater and it's noxious gases and fumaroles - this is volcano speak for steam vents. The guide scrapes back the ash from a small steamy section and we all put our hands in to see how hot it is just a little under the surface. Never mind the very real possibility of eruption, we are here to slide to our deaths on a 40º slope with only an orange boiler suit and some plastic goggles to protect us from the razor sharp rock...fun eh? Actually, I came prepared with a thick woolly hat to protect my head and some long trousers, fat lot of good they would do me! So, we paired up and hit the slopes on our little boards, we could choose to pat the ground with our feet to stay slow but what was the point in paying $23 to go slow, 'no fast. no fun' I say. So, with my feet held up I sat up straight, gripped the little bit of pipe on a rope and let rip...ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...it's fast! To steer, you are supposed to compensate for a left lean by sticking your right foot out and vice-versa which is ok in theory until you start hitting 50kph at which point the crash and burn is inevitable. As I was tumbling head over heels and watching my life flash before me I thought 'whatever posessed me to sign up for this?' Eventually I stopped moving, minus my hat and goggles, and waited for my board to slide down and catch me up, there was no choice to get on and have another bash. The same happened again...and again, so by the time I reached the bottom I was rather dizzy, covered in black dust and bleeding from the arm. The grit was everywhere, we were picking pearl sized chunks out of our nostrils and trying to wipe the powder from our ears and eyes...hungry and dirty, pizza called and after a few beers and some Savalon it didn't seem quite as bad as it sounds.

With my bandaged arm, Trish and I visited the boiling mud pools of San Jacinto. Not fast, but still fun, we walked through a crusty landscape, protected from certain death by some strips of plastic police tape One false move and it could have been curtains for us, the ground beneath hides a lot of deadly geothermic activity in the form of hot mud. But it was ok as we had a 12 year old boy to guide us safely round, don't tread on the white bits he said, and be careful, one guy from Cuba fell in taking a photo and came out casseroled. Despite not having moving volcanic roak beneath my feet I somehow managed to fall over a small stone and give my right thigh a huge purple bruise.

Masaya is a very authentic city in between Managua and Leon, it's streets bustle with activity, the plaza is filled with people stopping for a coffee and the cathedral sees a steady stream of devotees popping in and out. A pleasant place and in no way pretentious or touristy, one of it's main draws are the artisan workshops in the district of Monimbo. Walk around this peaceful neighbourhood and peek into the homes of craftsmen and women...or meet hot young boys hand-stitching saddles as the case may be! The town sits high above Volcan Masaya and an attractive but unfortunately polluted lake. From the malecon you can look accross and see the smoking massif making it's presence silently known.

The Masaya National Park was very well run by the young people who work there, now we were starting to notice what a young socity lives in Nicaragua; high fertility rates, together with reduction in the infant mortality rate, have produced a very young population. In 1990 nearly half of the population was less than fifteen years old and this fast growth is continuing. Nicaraguan Society study

After the very interesting volcano museum where you can learn all about magma, molten core and magnitude it is possible to tour the lava tunnels created in the last eruption. Imagine a hot lava flow like a caterpiller the size of a house crawling accross the landscape, the outer area cools and creates a hard crust, whilst the inside is still liquid and carries on flowing creating a hollow tunnel. It was pretty amazing to walk through these and shine our torches on the thousands of bats that live in the darkness here, though yellow plastic hats were not going to save us if an eruption decided to take us by surprise right now. There were five craters, it is possible to walk around the rim of the original one and view the dry tropical desert that has grown in the hollow. The protected environment has created a haven for birds and is inaccessible to man (without very long ropes). The most recent and most active crater is literally a hole dropping down to the bowels of the earth, belching out 100,000 tons of toxic sulphur dioxide gas every day. It's certainly a sight to behold and startled the Catholic priests who came here to find the natives sacrificing children to the fires of hell in efforts to stop the erruptions.

As I am relying on the list of dates I wrote out in my book and not on a proper diary, having missed out April the 31st, I nearly missed my birthday! Fortunately not though, and Granada seemed the perfect location, a restored colonial town with some fun places...ie. cheap jugs of strawberry daquiri and the juciest burgers ever from Zoom Bar! Laguna Apoyo has to be one of the best places to kill a hangover and chill out - literally, it was 36ºc in town! The crater lake houses a glittering turquoise lake where you can laze about on inner tubes, kayak or dive off the floating dock into water that really does make your skin softer. I enjoyed a cold beer whilst waiting for the waiter to bring me my organic vegetarian quiche served on a banana leaf...heaven!

From Catarina a local village you can get a spectacualar view of the lake and then stroll around the ceramic shops of San Juan de Oriente. They are famous for some very unique craftsmanship and in between the crap stuff and the too big stuff we found an excellent shop that sold earrings.

San Juan del Sur was the final stop in Nicaragua before leaving for Costa Rica and getting my visa renewed. It's a low-key beach resort on a golden horseshoe bay, perfect for relaxing for a few days and watching the surfers. Surfing is something I decided I would be crap at and probably injure me so I decided to save my money for the delicious fish and chips instead.

Six weeks later...

From Monteverde in Costa Rica it took 5 buses, 1 taxi, 1 boat and 1 truck to get to my destination on Isla Ometepe. Tired and grumpy I was dissappointed to find Hacienda Merida run by a money hungry control freak. 'All prices are subject to 15% tax' read the sign, then they had the cheek to ask for tip. Corkage for a bottle of rum was $10, despite a bottle of Flor de Cana only costing $5 in the first place! 'Monkey Island is dangerous, canoe there at your own risk!' What he fails to mention is that it was him who stranded the monkeys out there in the first place, an island too small for their societal needs, now they are viscious and desperate creatures. Ometepe is basically formed from the two volcanic giants that loom above; Concepcion and Maderas, though to get a good view you need to be the other side of Lago Nicaragua and not on it. Many people come here to trek the peaks an 8-10 hour hike in the sweltering heat with a view obscured by cloud at the top..this did not appeal, so I spent a day by the lake and a morning in a small wildlife reserve. The problem is that it takes longer to get from onle side of the island than the other than it would take to get from the border to the capital, the buses are erratic and the roads on the Maderas half are terrible, so that was it...

Matagalpa is a typical little town north of Managua but higher and cooler. I did intend spending a day in the Selva Negra, a private stretch of forest but when I got there it was tipping down and thick with fog.. 'f%@k this for a game of slodiers' I thought and headed back to town to visit the chocolate factory instead. A much better choice, the Castillo de Cacao is the front for an organic coffe farm that sells chocolate to the German brand Rittersport. A tour takes you through the basic process of roasting and grinding the beans with nothing more than sugar before heating up the rich paste to pasturise. I am now really sad that I didn't buy a kilo's worth and ship it home, it is so delicious. Impossible to compare to chocolate at home, this flavour is so intense and deep...glorious. It was important to the ancient civisations as a food for war, the high energy and caffeine release kept the marauding tribes throwing spears all day.

My final stop in Nicarague was to be Esteli though as soon as I got there I wished it had been my first and I wished I had more time to spend here. What is it about a place that instantly makes you feel at home? I had that comfortable feeling straight away, the town was very real, it had been a big Sandanista stronghold in the war and the buildings are covered in murals. Some political scenes depict the violence and the military invasion and current politicians, others show peace and children playing. There is one hostel in town tun by British woman Jane and lots of opportunities to volunteer with co-operative groups.

I spent on night in the beautiful Mirafor Reserve, a protected pice of land farmed sustainably as a co-operative. The families there can choose to open there homes to tourists and for $15 a day you get 3 meals and a slice of rural life. The people here were so welcoming and treat every guest like a member of their own family, I found it really interesting and could have spent a week here explring each village and walking each trail. I stayed with Nelson and Llorena in Chotylito at there home, Finca Bella Vista, which is their second since the first was adobe and destroyed by Hurricane Mitch. Even though he spent 3 years working illegally in the States, he knew very little English, he worked for a Mexican and ate and shopped at Mexican places he said so didn't need to know any! I went horse-riding with him the next day to view the river and a small waterfall, he like to talk and told me all about the flooding and devastation when the hurricane came and where the geurillas used to hide out in the war.

Back in Esteli there is another Heroes and Martyrs Museum like in Leon, another humbling experience seeing the proud faces stare back from their frames and a small display case containing shirts labelled with dead men's names.

Watching the men and women at work in the cigar factory was fascinating. There are 15 factories in town and the region produces xx of tobacco. It is a long and quality strict process that goes into creating the perfect cigar. Firstly, the leaves are picked in stages of maturity and hung in barns to dry, the dried leaves are then moistoned again and stacked in bales to ferment. The bales are regularly turned when the core temperature reaches 30ºc and can be left this way for three years to allow the flavour to mature. The smell in this shed was an ambush on the senses, rancid and almost toxic the men who worked here must become immune to the odour. Leaves were moistoned again, sorted on quality and destemmed. The rolling room had rows of workers in pairs, the first rolling the cigar and the second adding the smooth outer leaf and finishing off the ends. They're hands were dark brown with nicotine stains yet still some smoked cigarettes and cigars as they worked. The work was precise, at each stage the supervisor will check the cigar for firmness, an uneven roll will not be good to smoke and cause the cigar to burn unevenly. There was even an electronic machine to test air flow. A separte stage would sort by colour abd pack the cigars in plastic and box according to brand before shipment. Standards were high and wages were low, each worker was paid by piece, the highest being the rollers. For each 100 cigars they could expect to receive a mere 1.50 GBP and perhaps made 600 cigars daily. The health risks associated with handling the tobacco leaves all day were also high and many long term workers suffered from cancer.

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Photos

Murals outside of the Rincon Legal bar in Esteli
This is one of the most famous images of the war; a man wearing one of those cheap flourescent roasaries about to fling a flaming molotov cocktail