Allison´s site in Boaco has its charms. You get a picturesque view of mountains and forest from just about anywhere in town. Like many small towns, the people are overwhelmingly kind once you get to know them (or once they get to know you, rather, while you try in vain to remember 3,000 names). You could pretty easily take a day trip to Managua to load up on fachenta American groceries, if you were into that sort of thing.
But when I was there with Allison, I was more struck by how much harder it was for her to live there than it was for me in Jalapa. When I arrived, she was entering her second or third month without rice, because it was full of worms at the only places in her town that sold it. Living without rice in Nicaragua is like living without a car in the states: incredibly inconvenient. The town is so small that there are only one or two places that sell certain basic goods, like vegetables or tortillas. These places were often closed during the time we were there, which granted were a Sunday and a holiday (Revolution Day), but even when they were open were ill-stocked. Prices were higher, because the town isn`t exactly a shipping hub. Not to mention that living in the mountains comes with the inherent unpleasantness of having to navigate a 45 degree slope to get anywhere in town.
This is not even touching the differences between Allison`s house and mine. Hers is large, and is all her own, with a whole wonderful room set aside for filing lesson plans and materials. But a private house comes with all the tiny little upkeeping tasks that add up a lot over time: having to wash every dish right away, lest they attract bugs; having to wash all her own clothes by hand; having no refrigerator and few restaurants nearby, and thus having to cook all the time; having to sweep up after the bat that comes into her kitchen/hammock room at night; having nothing more than a pit outside to throw trash into (nicknamed the Snarlack pit, after Jabba the Hut`s pet worm monster in Star Wars); having to fill up a plastic garbage can with water every time it comes on, since it`s rarely on for very long each day. Contrast this with my big Jalapa house, where the water and lights are usually on, where I only have a tiny bedroom to myself, but get to use a fridge, and have a family that keeps me supplied with coffee, bread, water, rice, and beans whenever I want them, and have a housekeeper who washes my clothes and dishes for me. I left thinking she was pretty hardcore to be able to live there, and shocked and awed by the quantity and quality of work she was able to get done in spite of all the other stuff she has to do just to survive.
As with my vacation with Donna, I had a pretty great time! We watched a movie the first night about a female boxer in Managua that was based on a true story whose name I`ve forgotten (Lola?), but which was pretty funny at times, if incoherent in its message at the end. The next day, we had a great lunch after a long hunt for ingredients, and finally ended up being able to make guacamole served with refried beans, cuajada (Nica cheese), and corn chips. We went for a walk in the woods by the river that yielded many pictures, though none of the monkeys we`d been searching for, and sadly none that accurately depicted the glorious moment when Allison turned into a Disney Princess, and had yellow and orange butterflies scattering all about her in a meadow by the river. That night, I was introduced to The Amazing Race, and wondered where I`d been not knowing of its existence for its first 16 seasons. I had so much fun rooting for the two Harlem Globetrotters to destroy their competition in each new country, which they usually did. It was an incredibly addicting experience, and just writing this is making me lament not being able to see how the season Allison`s brother burned for her ended.
So yes, like I said, my trip to Boaco was pleasant enough...
...before we decided to go to Chontales the next day.
(can you feel the double-cliffhanger?)
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