Another Roadside Attraction

---

If you were to get into your car right now, and start driving south, you would eventually hit the Mexican border. And if you were to keep going, and keep going some more, and then some more, you would eventually end up on the Panamerican Highway, passing through Guatemala, Honduras, and then Nicaragua. And then about an hour north of Managua, you would notice some brightly colored birds on the side of the road, and you might be shocked that such an exotic flock of pajaros is concentrated in one spot, on the side of the highway, of all places! But if you were to slow down, you would notice that all those birds are made of wood, carved by machete, and if you were to stop and take an ever closer look, you would be able to appreciate the beautiful craftsmanship of the crafts here. And if you were to really stop and look around, you might notice a gringo there, and then you would see that gringo is me! So, just in case you were wondering where I was, I´m right here, on the side of the road. Come on down and see me anytime you like!

Sometimes, when I sit on the front porch and watch the cars and the trucks and the buses whiz by, I like to marvel at the fact that there is a ribbon of black top that connects us all to each other, that I could set a course on that highway, and in a matter of a few short days, find my way to you, wherever you are, without ever losing sight of the road. A marvel of modern engineering, or a scar on the face of the earth? I´m in no position to judge, but I suspect it´s a little of both. However, I digress....

Life here on the side of the road.... hmmm, how should I put this? Well, it involves lots of dust. The dry season is upon us now and there is a relentless eastern wind that charges through this valley on its way to Lake Managua, and the 18 wheelers and buses that scream by every few seconds do their share to kick up a fair amount of dirt. Just when I think I'm all alone, I find my friend dirt just about everywhere. Hmm, what else? ... definately lots of poultry. The roosters and the hens are relentlessly pecking around in their quest for whatever it is they´re doing all day long. And I shouldn´t forget the sun, shining its freaking hot sunny rays down on my skin whenever I step out of the shade. But I fear this description might be a bit misleading, for the campo is much more than dirty, noisy, and hot.

It´s also fascinating, enlightening, and challenging; all at the same time.

It´s fascinating to spend my days with people who live lives that are so entirely different than my own. Down here most people don´t progress pass the fourth grade. And while this lack of education sets them back a few steps in our modern world, their incredible work ethic just about balances it out. Being here has allowed me to discover that I am actually really lazy. My gringo ways will just never, ever be able to keep up with the Nicaraguan work ethic.

Enlightening... in oh so many ways. Like how to clean out a dirty carburator in Nicaragua- you simply remove the fuel intake hose, then you suck the dirty gas out of the carb with your mouth! And how to eat crawdads down at the creek- just rip off their claws and eat them raw! And how to live on about 50 cordobas ($US 2.50) per day!

And it´s challenging too. As a gringo I´m accustomed to having lots of space. Here, there is no such thing as personal space. Entire families live in one little room all together. Also, here in the campo there is no such thing as running water. That is, of course, unless you put some in a bucket and then run around with it. And trash. Oooh the trash. Here in Nicaragua the modern miracle of plastic has been around for some time now. Yet it has yet to be accompanied by the concept of recycling. Or even putting all the trash together in the same spot, as in a ´trash can.´ Here, whenever you finish with whatever piece of plastic you have, you just leave it wherever you are, and allow the wind, or the animals to sort it out. It´s just a little bit maddening after awhile.

But I´m afraid I´ve gotten ahead of myself here.. Let me fill you in on what´s been happening these last few weeks. I should start at the beginning...

It was a Wednesday afternoon in Esteli, I was kicking back, strumming the ukulele, trying my best to forget about this sinking feeling I had in my gut that day, something about feeling rootless, alone in a foreign world, aimlessly drifting about (these episodes come and go when you´re a stranger in a strange land), when someone came to the gate. He happened to be an American, and we got to talking, and then one thing led to another and before I knew it, the next day I was on a bus towards Managua to visit a place that few foreigners ever venture to. Turns out, this American (besides being a world champion dart thrower) had bought a house in the little town of Madrono, where a few families made their meager livings from carving birds and furniture and selling them to the people passing by on the Panamerican Highway. So I took the bus down there to check out his place and to meet the family living there. Next thing I know is that I´m invited to come and stay there indefinately, and learn some of their trade and also their language.

So that´s how it began. Now I live in a cinder block house on the side of the highway. In the morning I generally wake up a little after the roosters at 6 am, then I take some coffee up to the old abandoned Sandinista fort up on the hill. Thats where I like to sit and watch the birds buzz about, in the fresh east wind blowing its way towards Lake Managua, which I can see in the distance. This is the really peaceful part of each day, with an marked absense of rooster calls and diesel engine noise, just me and the zopilotes (black vultures), the flycatchers, and the jillions of hummingbirds. If I were to write a book about my time up there at the fort, it would be called ´Zen and the Art of Hummingbird Identification.´

Then I usually come down to the house, eat some gallo pinto, and sharpen up my machete to get ready for the day. Lately we´ve been making casitas, or mangers for nativity scenes. I like to think of myself performing some noble deed, constructing a sturdy home for little baby Jesus to be visited by the Wise Men is indeed an important job! Then we eat some more gallo pinto (nicaraguan for beans and rice), and do more of the same. This goes on until it gets dark, then we bring in all the merchandise and are generally getting pretty close to bed by 9ish. Yes, I know, it's so very exciting.

But I get to practice speaking spanish all day long! About that, well, it´s getting better day by day. It certainly helps to be the only gringo around. The only other person around who speaks english is Harold, so I´m getting lots and lots of practice. But as always, theres so much more to learn. And my machete skills... let's just say I haven´t cut off any fingers or severed any major arteries.

Somehow I´ve become the talk of the town. As a gringo, I´m automatically unbelievably wealthy (which is true, by local standards) and so that makes me a good target. Whenever certain young ladies of the village walk by they tend to hold eye contact and smile a bit longer than the usual social standard. And when I walk around, people will stop whatever it is they´re doing and unabashedly stare at the shocking spectacle walking by. And because the American who owns the house has a gay friend from Esteli that once visited, half the town thinks that I´m gay by association. It's really quite funny. This is what my life is like these days. Who would have thunk it?

The closest internet cafe is a thirty minute bus ride away in San Benito, so if I´ve been distant, or haven´t returned your email, now you know why. At the moment I´m on vacation from the campo, high up in the hills in the coffee land of Matagalpa. But that´s another story for another day....

---

Photos

la casa
view from the southbound lane

my friend Harold
he´s showing me how big the chupacabra can get

my first casita
the chicken bus in the background is pure serendipity

my birdie
an elementary attempt at carving. minimal skin was lost in the production of this work of art

loadin up the jeep...
...we got an order to build a giant nativity scene at the meat packing factory down the road....

..framing it out...
..at the fabrica, for some reason harold picked the spot next to all the noxious smelling chemicals to construct the masterpiece...

cutting the grass..
...we needed it for the roof and the walls....

fit for a king!
the finished product, awaiting tenancy

giant spider
just another part of the 'naturaleza'

the author...
...in a deep state of contemplation. at the fort.

sunset view
from the fort.