You´ll laugh about this one day

Say you were expecting a package that included something you needed in order to complete an important task. You are pretty much in limbo until this package arrives. The package was sent to Nicaragua from Canada via courier. Unfortunately, the package was not addressed to you but to one of your superiors. This meant that when the package arrived, your superior didn´t know what it was and refused to pay customs on it so the package was sent back to the customs office in Nicaragua. But you don´t know this.
After a couple weeks, when your package doesn´t show up, you do some investigating to realize that that mystery package was intended for you. So you need help getting your package out of customs and into your hands. You try and remain respectful of the pace at which things work in Nicaragua while conveying the importance of a speedy delivery.
A few more weeks go by and your patience is being tested. You keep asking about the status of this package and kept getting told "tomorrow" and even "later today".
Then you´re told it´s going to cost X amount of money to pick up the package. Do you still want it? Yes.
Finally everything is set and 2 months have passed and someone in the office is going to go to customs to pick up your package. Then that someone gets in a car accident (he is ok, but will be out of commission for at least 2 weeks). You try and show the requisite amount of sympathy while also trying to find a way to get this package. Time is starting to run out. More forms need to be filled out because now YOU are going to customs to pick up this package. More waiting. Finally! You have everything you need and hop in a taxi and head straight to the customs office. You get there 15 minutes late. Come back tomorrow. You've been waiting 2 and a half months, what's another day? You go back the next day. The following is a quick recap of the 2 hours you spent at customs.
Someone at the front desk looks at all your files, tells you to go down that hall. You go into this room, they look at your files, print off another form. You go to get the package. Your package was delivered over 2 months ago - it's not here, it's over in that huge pile which doesn't seem to have any system to it at all. A man wearing a baseball hat that says "100% drunk" finds your package, surprisingly in only about 15 minutes. Then you have to go find "the fat one" (they're all fat). The fat one tells you to wait "over there". You do that. Finally the fat one comes over, walks you back to where your package is. Opens it up. Shows you everything. Puts everything back in the package and reseals it. The package goes back in that big pile. You need to follow the fat one back to the main office. He looks through your files again. Says they need to write up a receipt. Someone else takes your file and takes it back to his desk. A bit later the fat one comes back to you and tells you they can't give you the package because you're missing a photocopy of the ID for the person to whom the package is addressed to. But you have you're ID, you have an official letter from a lawyer saying you can pick this package up. You also have a half dozen other papers that don't really mean anything to you but must be important. You beg, you plead and after a few tears of frustration and wild arm gestures, the fat one decides to talk to his supervisor with regards to your "special case". The fat one comes back from speaking with his supervisor and hands the folder with all your files back to this other guy in the office. So you figure everything is ok. Then you see the guy with your files over at another computer, looking at something, laughing, then calling his colleagues over to look at the computer, they all laugh and point. You go up to the front desk and ask what's happening - and your guy goes back to his desk. He makes a receipt for a ridiculous amount of money that you have to pay in order to free your package. You wait in another line to pay the receipt. You go back to the guy that made your receipt. You need a signature from the fat one. But the fat one is nowhere to be seen. At this point, they see the desperation in your face and want you out of their office, so they go and track down the fat one to get his signature. You can go back and pick up your package. It's in your hands. You can leave. But first, the guy with the "100% drunk" hat needs to fill out 2 more forms so that you can hand them to the security guards as you leave the building. Then you get in a cab and go home.

Life in the air

Whoever invented the hammock is a genius. When I discovered the joy of my upstairs patio the first thing I wanted was a hammock. I was all set to go out and buy one but then found out that there originally was a hammock on the patio, but it was taken down because they didn't think I'd want it. What?!? So the hammock was brought up ASAP and now I try my best to live in it. I could go on and on about how fantastic the hammock is but instead I've decided to be more visual and show the various uses of hammocks in Nicaragua.

Nicaragua, you win this time

In Nicaragua, you can't expect anything to work out the way you anticipated. Things can change at a moments notice. One minute you thin you're going out of town for the night, then you find out plans have changed because someone has scabies. You plan your evening around going to a movie, to find out it's one of the few movies to be dubbed in Spanish. You get excited about buying a rice burrito to find out the place doesn't have rice. You go to the grocery store to make guacamole, there are no avocados. You're preparing dinner and start cooking to realize there's no gas.
Just a few examples of how Nicaragua has tried to beat me down - and those are only examples within a weeks time.

James Taylor said it best

Time to get a little sappy. There is something to be said for old friends. I've met plenty of new people over the course of this trip and learned a lot from meeting others from varying backgrounds. But after having the same conversation over and over again ("Where are you from?", "What are you doing here?", "How long are you travelling for?") makes me a little nostalgic for old friends. Like the ones who knew me when I would put a red pencil in my hair because it was someone's favorite colour - and they still wanted to be friends with me. Being away from old friends it's a pleasant surprise to hear from them, in whatever form. So thank you to those who navigated the internet, figured out the Nicaraguan postal system, fought with an international calling card or made a 12 hour journey to eat Oreos and Ritz crackers for a week.

Mini America

I had some free time over the holidays so I thought "Why not got to Costa Rica for a few days?". Might as well, since I'm in the neighbourhood. A quick Google search of "Costa Rica" and "surfing" and Tamarindo came up as the place to go.Driving directly from Managua would take about 4 hours, but with a chaotic border crossing (getting there took 3.5 hours) and having to switch to a local bus in Liberia, my journey took me about 10 hours. As soon as I arrived in Tamarindo I felt like I was transplanted into another world. The town was so developed. It reminded me of a more tropical Florida. A new condo building is being built in the middle of town, and it was the tallest building I'd seen in 4 months.It was probably how Crocodile Dundee felt when he left the outback and landed in New York City (that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but it was a taste for the culture shock I'll feel when I get home).
The place was overrun by tourists and real estate offices trying to sell land to foreigners. In the rush to develop this once "sleepy" beach town, they missed something. Where was the authenticity? Reading a magazine geared at foreigners living in Costa Rica, the sense of entitlement and 'snobbishness' expressed by 'some' foreigners left a bad taste in my mouth.
But there are always two sides to every argument. These tourists are bringing in a lot of money, jobs and opportunities (and paved roads) for Costa Ricans. Part of me can't really blame people for wanting to transplant the luxuries and comforts from a more developed country. And if there was a Starbucks in Tamarindo, I would have been right there.So the dilemma continues.

(Not) Home for the Holidays

Five months from September is February. In between those months comes Christmas. I knew before leaving Canada that spending my first Christmas away from home was a big possibility. Coming home for the holidays was always an option, but with only one month left of my internship, I figured I might as well stay here and stick it out.
Once I made my decision, I tried not to dwell on it or think about it too much. It was pretty easy to do. With the weather over the past 2 months a constant 30 and sunny, it feels like living in a perpetual August.

I did decorate the palm tree at the house to acknowledge the holiday.
But still Christmas kept slipping my mind. Christmas didn't seem to be as in your face as it is back home. People were still working and it was business as usual at the house. I noticed that since most people are just trying to get by throughout the year, buying gifts for other people wasn't that much of a priority. Or maybe that was just my perspective.
Presents were piled under the Christmas palm tree but not until Christmas Eve (and I think the family just did it for the photo op).

So to answer everyone's question of what Christmas was like in Nicaragua, I'd say it didn't seem like that big of a deal. Maybe it was the lack of snow and not being around family and friends but this Christmas seemed to come and go with less of a flourish.

Oh No!

A quick update - I am without words for this one.
Remember, dedicated blog readers, my blog post from September 28th? There was this rusted out truck at the corner, near where I live. I relied on it as my landmark for getting home. Remember when I said it didn't look like it was going anywhere fast anytime soon? Well, it disappeared! And apparantely it DROVE to Guatemala....

Before....................................................................After