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Published: September 19th 2012
Pan American Highway
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pan-American_HighwayToday? Spa Day!
There are some small rooms curtained off next to the pool area which is the hotel spa. I inquire in the first room about where I am supposed to be and a woman approaches me telling me that she is my masseuse. I follow her to her room where I see a mop leaning against the massage table and some laundry piled up on top of the table. She is in no hurry to hide this and instead takes a few more sweeps with the broom over the tile floor. She tell me to disrobe but to leave my underwear on and then she turns down the blasting stereo that is sending out various proclamations about the best fast food chicken in town in a musical collision of tuba and synthetic drumming. An announcer in an overly-excited voice attempts to yell over the music. I quickly take off my clothes as she watches me and then ask her to turn off the music please.
“Turn it down or off?”
“Off” I smile. Trying to imagine how that could ever be in question.
The massage table is essentially a board with a hole cut out
for my head. It squeaks loudly every time I move, every time she moves. Maybe this is why she wanted the chicken announcer on.
She starts by gently cracking my spine. Now, I have had enough “spa” treatments done in other countries to know that this is pretty much to be expected- joint and knuckle popping are standard relaxation practice in many cultures. My spine pops easily and it brings some relief. From that point on, the massage mostly consisted of rubbing oil onto my back. When the oil has soaked into my skin, I hear her put more in her hands and think, “She must be moving on.” And then she returns to my back, rubbing in more oil. She takes my underwear and plunks the waste-band under my buns, fully exposing my ham. I think that she must be getting ready to do some lower back work, but no, she continues in the same places (see: general back area) and just leaves my can out there like an anxious child waiting for the spoon.
When we were looking for a place to stay in Granada and stumbled across this one,
we were impressed to see that they were featured on the Today Show. They gave us an exceptional
rate on the room, which included a free massage, and we booked it. I now find it hard to not laugh out loud at the thought of Kathie Lee and Hoda actually experiencing the spa that they touted on their show. I start to imagine in clear detail, overhearing them in the curtained-off rooms on either side of me, the confusion and shock in their voices. I start to smile with my face tucked into the hole atop the table.
The masseuse tells me to turn over, I do. She works on my feet for about thirty seconds each and then takes my right leg and stretches it out, rotating it against my side and stomach- a routine I know well because I have used it many times to expel gas from fussy babies. I can tell you with confidence, that this movement has the same effect on a grown woman. Suddenly, I regret breaking my gluten-free diet for that pancake this morning and am focusing hard on the bubble bouncing around in my belly- willing it to stay put.
She moves to the other leg and does the yoga-like Cat Stretch Pose at the end- she forgot
to do this on the other side so goes back and does it really fast.
A few gentle Karate chops on the back and we are done. An hour long oil rub disguised as a massage. In truth, I don’t mind because it is heaven to have an hour without a single obligation or task to perform. Touch in general, is just good for the soul and since I had no preconceived notions going into this, it’s all good. I’m better for it.
Yesterday we arrived here in Granada after about two hours in the car. The hotel is exceptionally unique and an attraction all on its own. It was the home of President Evaristo Carazo in the 1870s. In 1981 it was taken by the Sandistas and made into the offices of the Health Ministry. In the 1990s it was returned to its former owners and then sold to an investor in 2004 where it was renovated and made into the
Hotel Spa Granada (not quite sure where the spa photo at this site was taken, but kudos to them for drawing me in. To be honest there have been a few glitches in our stay here that were bummers but the shear fact that we are staying in a massive colonial mansion AND, thanks to off-season traveling, there
Chicha! Fermented Drink
HAD to try it! Delicious! are very few other guests here, it’s sort of like having an entire mansion and staff to ourselves.
I find Granada taking me back to my time in Antigua- the smell of coffee and frijoles, the colonial buildings, the backpackers blogging (though, when I was there no one had a laptop and they were emailing as opposed to blogging, but that’s beside the point), the cafes offering morsels of breads and yogurt. I’ve realized that instead of saying, “Oh! This is just like Antigua!” at every turn (“One time at band camp….”) I’m just going to have to return in the near future with my family and let them see for themselves. It’s interesting being here- sort of like going back to your home state and remembering a bunch of childhood stuff that you didn’t know you’d forgotten. Guatemala left a significant fingerprint on my life- traveling alone to a foreign place that everyone else I spoke to before going, seemed scared about me leaving…much less stay for longer than absolutely necessary, much less go BACK! I might say that it was the beginning of the end of my Americana-induced fear of what lies beyond (the border) and travel
that doesn’t include an airport transfer in the package and a fruity umbrella drink upon arrival. It feels homey here, strangely comfortable and familiar.
After settling into our hotel, we walked to the center of town, got lunch and then hitched a horse-drawn tour of the city mid-monsoon. Something happened to Fauna in that carriage- she was waving and hola-ing to anyone who walked by. She was so thrilled at the experience- the loftiness of the carriage, the trit-trot of the horses, the bouncing over the pavement on wooden wheels. We watched Granada pass by with its lake views, nine Catholic churches, and retired steam engines. (Can you guess which of the preceding was Fauna’s favorite?) Fauna was sadder than sad to leave the horses when our tour was over but with promises of monkeys tomorrow, she mellowed.
After nap time today, we headed to the lake. Lago de Nicaragua is 3,191 sq mi and the largest lake in Central America. The eye does not see its end! Fauna was super jazzed to hop aboard our little boat and didn’t even flinch when she was required to don the like vest. She had waited for this moment for
days- we were going to Monkey Island!
The lake is filled with small volcanic islands, inhabited mostly by wealthy Nica family estates, but there are some that still house indigenous groups living off of the land and fishing. The portion of the boat trip that we had worked up for Fauna over the last few days was of course Mono Island. When our boat pulled up alongside the island, we immediately were greeted by a hairy friend. Fauna went bananas. A couple other monkeys came out and I asked the boat driver how many monkeys there were.
“Cuatro.” He said,
“Cuatro??” I asked clarifying.
“Yes, a vet brought them here years ago.”
Dang it. The Lonely Planet mentioned nothing about these being captured animals! Turns out they can’t swim and their food source is the mango tree on the small island and the food brought by humans. For the love of God, these monkeys are PETS! Griff and I could not help being disappointed upon the realization. We’ve seen our fill of wild monkeys and these aint them. But, Fauna was none the wiser. She had no idea that there was very little difference between
these monkeys and the monkeys kept in cages at the local zoo. She loved seeing them and hated saying goodbye.
Tomorrow we leave Granada and are back in San Juan del Sur. The time here passes wonderfully slowly and we are enjoying the uninterrupted family bonding. No obligations, no watches or cell phones- we actually have to work to find the correct time.
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