” We aren’t to feed the monkey’s, ” Mario warns, much to the dismay of my fellow tour boat passengers.
” Monkey’s are loco…..If you knew what I know you wouldn’t want to get close to them. ”
Our boat stops at Monkey Island and several of the small mammals come to the water’s edge to greet us.
One lone monkey scampers out on a tree limb, reaches his hand out, and a young tender hearted woman, in another nearby tour boat, gives him a treat.
This group of monkey’s was marooned here years ago and they provide entertainment in exchange for people food that isn’t even good for people.
Our foraging solo spider monkey, once he has his fill of handouts, leans down and drinks from Lake Nicaragua.
He might get hungry but he won’t ever run out of water.
Taking what someone freely offers you doesn’t count as begging.
This monkey and his business are not messing around today.
Lake Nicaragua is in the top five largest lakes in the world and has enough water to keep Central America hydrated for hundreds of years if the tap turns off.
Mario, our tour guide, brings out his map and shows us where the new Panama Canal is going to be built.
Looking at the map, he points.
The new canal will go from the from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean Sea cutting through the southern part of Nicaragua, using this lake and a new man made fresh water lake to feed water to canal locks. China is scheduled to start this new canal soon and the project will change this country forever.
” These islands, ” Mario continues, ” are for sale.” He puts away his map, gestures with his hands, and grabs our attention.
” That one, ” he continues, is owned by one of the wealthiest families in Nicaragua, the Pella family. They own the Tona beer company too…. ”
The good thing about owning an island is that neighbors are separated from you. The bad thing is some of your neighbors are living in galvanized sheet metal houses with boats dry docked in the yard and laundry hanging from makeshift clotheslines..
Men fishing in the river pause and watch us, then cast out their nets and pull them back in with tonight’s dinner.
When the sun goes down fires glow in the woods as day is put to bed and stories roll out of their bunks.
Most who live on this lake never want to see anything crossing it that ruins their fishing.
Baseball is played much the same everywhere it is played.
The rules are the same. The setup of the bases and equipment is much the same. The length of the game can extend in close games, be called off because of weather, or the daylight left in the empty lot or street where kids emulate their heroes.
Some games are played in massive stadiums with thousands of spectators, night lights, press boxes and entertainment. Other games are played on simple fields like this with chain link fences keeping spectators off the field and concession stands selling soft drinks and plantain chips.
This umpire calls the game as he sees it and there is no room for protest, no instant replay, no second guessing.
No one cares about skin color or political philosophies.
What counts on this field, is how well you hit the ball, catch the ball, throw the ball, help your team win the game.
When growing up, baseball was the national sport of the United States.
We had the New York Yankees, a multi World Series winning team with a barn full of horses like Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra, Coach Casey Stengel and many others.
One of the best players on the Pittsburg pirates was Roberto Clemente, an outfielder who was not only a great baseball player, but a great man.. When he was killed in a plane crash, taking food and supplies back to his ravaged Managua after an earthquake, it didn’t register because we didn’t know much about Nicaragua. People traveled less then and we didn’t have internet to bring the world immediately to us.
Baseball doesn’t take a lot of equipment or a lot of space. Most kids can catch a ball and swing a bat, and parents support their kids. On Saturday, Nino leagues start at the Lion’s Park at one end of Calle Calzada, around eight thirty in the morning,
Today, I watch the Sharks play the Academy and the Clementes play the Dissur team.
The game moves in slow motion because it takes longer for kids to throw from first to third, chase down balls in the weeds at the outfield’s edge, try to move under a foul tipped ball in the batter’s cage.
Some of the kid’s scowl at their team mates at a bad play, others kick their helmet on the grass after a strikeout.
One of these players will make it to the major’s, just like Roberto.
In the Nino League, the team that makes the fewest fielding errors, usually wins.
My Mombacho apartment is a few blocks from a neighborhood school attended by kids in uniform, carrying backpacks. They learn reading and math in the morning. In the afternoon, they assemble in the street in front of their school and little drummer boys begin a military cadence.
The parade practice goes well and considering children’s futures is my teacher’s hard to get rid of habit.
Some of these kids will go into professions. Some will be builders and others artists. Some will leave Nicaragua and not come back till they are old, sending money back to support their families. Some will end up in the streets, victims of poverty. Many will be mom’s and dad’s, contributors to the city and country.
These kid’s energy level is high and their enthusiasm is up.
When I hear drums, I fall in step, remembering my own school band days practicing marching at seven in the morning in a dusty dirt lot by the new Manzano High School stadium in Albuquerque in the 1960’s.
Practice makes parades perfect and these kids will represent their school well.
Education is always more than pencils, paper, and books.
Our Lady of Assumption Cathedral is also called the Granada Cathedral.
The church dominates the main plaza of Granada, Nicaragua and was begun in the 1500’s when the city was being colonized by Spanish conquerors. The church still serves the community and at a recent evening Mass was filled with locals as well as tourists who make the place one of their must do stops.
This Cathedral dwarfs other churches in the city and is not as ornate or beaten down as its competition. It is still a simple box covered with smooth plaster, tall bell towers, and is painted a striking color you can see from a distance. In its shadows is the main city Plaza, a collection of horse drawn carriages lined up in front of the Alhambra hotel, vendors selling sunglasses and food, tourists, and locals who have nothing better to do than people watch and take photos and videos for their Facebook page.
Walking into a Catholic church brings the usual statues, pews, robed white plaster men commemorated for dedication, nooks with burning candles, dizzying rotundas, a sense of space.
The unusual in this church is a Genie lift that supports an artist painting on the ceiling.
The cast of characters is to be expected. There is God, Adam and Eve, all of Noah’s animals, angels and scenes of Creation.
This morning, when there is no Mass, I find the lift extended and observe a little man on the platform high above me patiently expanding his assigned themes. He is no Michaelangelo and this is no Sistine Chapel, but the effect is still jaw dropping. The ceiling is huge, and, with so many sections to be filled, it is hard to believe the task will ever be finished.
But, completed or not,it is certain that this project will outlast many men and make the point continually that we are alive for a purpose, just not our purpose.
Azucena,tending bar, is the only person in the Bar Imagine when I walk in.
She is polishing glasses, checking inventory, brings me a menu, works on the books while I decide on fish tacos and a Tona beer, a local favorite.
” Que tiempo, la musica, ” I ask?
The board outside the building says the Latin All Stars will be playing Beatles music at eight. The chalkboard in the entry says the Latin All Stars will be playing Latin Salsa at nine. Handbills on telephone polls around town say free music starts at eight and nine and Happy Hour is 5 – 6?
” Nueve, ” she confirms.
A photo of John Lennon is on one wall, prominently displayed. There are two chairs and a mic on an empty stage. Two cooks are slicing tomatoes and onions and one brings me out chips and picante sauce while they thaw fish and turn on the gas to their stoves.
” Que donde todo gente? ”
She shrugs and says, ” Ocho, ocho y media? ”
It is a quiet evening on Cervantes street and, in this town, I would expect to see Miquel sitting at this bar with his caballo tied up outside, his lance close to his hand for encounters with windmills. That famous novel, ” Don Quixote “, has chapter after chapter of the adventures of a man on a mission, standing for justice in an unjust world.
” My English is not so good, ” she says, but she manages to get me to buy more drinks than I planned.
Don Quixote is to fiction what John Lennon is to rock and roll.
After dinner and two Tona’s, I catch a cab home and vow to return tomorrow to catch whatever music happens to be on stage.
The only Abbey Lane in this town is on the front steps of this Bar.
Taking a different way to the Plaza, there appears another Catholic church, one of fifteen in Granada.
This place of worship is unique for its grizzled exterior that looks older than history, and people are standing way up in a church bell tower taking photos of the city at dusk. It is evening and Mass is in progress.
I have been told by a tour guide that the black stained exterior is not mold but comes from a fire built by an American, William Walker, who invaded and tried to take control of Nicaragua in the 1800’s to extend Southern slavery. He was trying to burn out defenders of the city who were holed up inside the massive walls of this church.
Walker was eventually captured and executed in Honduras but American interventionism has never stopped anywhere.
Church’s try to do God’s work, but men keep putting their foot in the door.
American’s have been visiting Nicaragua a long time, and good has not always been on their mind, no matter what their mouths said.
Dogs hold a special place in human history.
In old days they slept outside the cave and warned of intruders, were tossed Mastodon bones, chased sticks thrown by cave kids. Then, they came inside and became companions and trusted friends.
On the streets of Granada, dogs are on call twenty four seven. Some have collars while others have nothing but fleas and wounds from territorial fights.
I have dog biscuits in my shirt pocket for any dogs that approach me.
Like people, some canines are wary, some are bashful, some are brash, some are demanding. Others like to lay on their back and do a roll for me.
The best thing about dogs is they don’t talk and say stupid things.
Charlie loves dogs and this gallery is for him.
If he wasn’t careful he would take them all home.
A trip to the grocery in a foreign country can be setting yourself up for shock treatment.
There are items in the grocery here that are less than what I pay at home, but many items are far more expensive.
In a country where the minimum wage for a working guy or girl is less than a U.S. dollar per hour, why would any sane person want to drink a six pack of beer at almost $10.00 U.S., or shave with Gillette shaving cream at eight dollars a can? On my most recent trip through the grocery gauntlet, my costs for a handful of items were $12.00 U.S.
For my money today, I buy two bars of soap, a link of sausage and a package of chicken cold cuts. I bring home an avocado,two boxes of saltine crackers, a small bag of apples, a bunch of bananas and a loaf of wheat bread.
Coming from Europe, or the U.S., or wealthy South American countries, Nicaragua is a bargain.
On the other hand, walking in a Nicaraguan’s shoes pinches your toes..
If I only make seventy or eighty cents an hour I would have to work two days to pay for what I just bought.
If you really need to know what a country and it’s people are about, peek into their shopping bags and watch what they ride to get home.
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