We have just arrived in Nicaragua. (Midnight in Nicaragua) I hear repitious chirps, birds and spider monkeys, gas-powered motorcycles mowing their way through shiny streets.
It rained for seriously 10 minutes, and then….quiet streets.
Vagabond dogs roam the streets, having no home, no knowledge of a food bowl, a daily routine walk, an owner, English commands. They are completely free of any
I sat for awhile soaking it all in already, trying to feel the complete wholeness of the experience. I am no longer scared not that I was but 6 months, one can only read so many books, maps, personal accounts, stories of daily explorations before you are ready to just be there in the midst and sounds, the full sensation of it all.
Marlon picked us up, Red Cardinals T-shirt, baseball shorts, ballcap. For the first time, someone at the airport was holding a sign for me.
We got through customs without a single problem and then I saw him. Through the glass, the citizens of the country, peering at foreign animals, picking up their bags, children crying, old women sagging along, few Americans scruffed and sweaty.
We exited the airport into a blanket of hot and humid air. It was wonderfully engulfing as we walked through the crowd to the car.
We briefly met James, another Englishman who had arrived to volunteer, he packed himself in another car and we drove to Granada.
It rained for seriously 10 minutes, and then….quiet streets.
Vagabond dogs roam the streets, having no home, no knowledge of a food bowl, a daily routine walk, an owner, English commands. They are completely free of any
I sat for awhile soaking it all in already, trying to feel the complete wholeness of the experience. I am no longer scared not that I was but 6 months, one can only read so many books, maps, personal accounts, stories of daily explorations before you are ready to just be there in the midst and sounds, the full sensation of it all.
Marlon picked us up, Red Cardinals T-shirt, baseball shorts, ballcap. For the first time, someone at the airport was holding a sign for me.
We got through customs without a single problem and then I saw him. Through the glass, the citizens of the country, peering at foreign animals, picking up their bags, children crying, old women sagging along, few Americans scruffed and sweaty.
We exited the airport into a blanket of hot and humid air. It was wonderfully engulfing as we walked through the crowd to the car.
We briefly met James, another Englishman who had arrived to volunteer, he packed himself in another car and we drove to Granada.
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