Viernes
Part of our colorful group.
Concept of TimeHay mas tiempo que vida (There is more time than life.) So why hurry? The day-to-day approach to living life in Nicaragua may come from the necessity of survival, or it may just be an effect of the hot sun. Probably both. Nicaraguan life, in general, goes according to La Hora Nica (Nica Time), which means a meeting scheduled in Managua for 2:30pm might not start until 3pm, or an hour later in the countryside. Foreign travelers accustomed to La Hora Gringa, in which everything starts and stops exactly when planned, will spend their days in Nicaragua endlessly frustrated (and consistenly early for meetings). Appointments and meeting are loose, and excuses are easy to come by and universally accepted. Gradually, as you experience Nicaragua, this concept of time will win you over; just be careful when you go home.
Piggy banks at market.
Home security system.
Safety
The safety in Nicaragua varies from city to city. The capital, Managua is very dangerous with its fair share of corruption and civil turmoil. Since I’ve been here the Managuan mayor was found dead, an apparent “suicide” with his own knife. News From Romeo Arrieta (thank you, friend): "Former Boxing Champion, Alexis Arguello, the Mayor of the Nicauraguan Capitol city, Managua was found dead today. The news calls it a "suicide", but I seriously doubt that. I highly doubt that a seated elected official would commit suicide without the "encouragement" of some outside force. Given the context of the recent coup that ousted President Zelaya in nearby Honduras, and the context of a drug cartel war, It seems more likely that Arguello was the target of organized crime."
When we arrived at the capitol we were told to immediately move on and not wait until nightfall. We heeded this warning, but I’ve since spoken to several other travelers who have enjoyed leisure time in Managua. Managua, however, isn’t a tourist destination as it offers no beach and only a poor city recovering from the constant natural disasters of volcanoes and earthquakes and the civil disorder that is the government. As far as my little San Juan, I have the same alert level as I would in any other large metropolitan city. During the day it’s safe and the scene is crowded and loud. All the homes have impressive metal doors and gated windows. Sometime after dinner the entire town shuts down and all the shops and homes are closed up tight. In the evenings I make sure to walk with at least one other person as the city turns into a ghost town. The only people out and about are the Nican troublemakers and foreigners looking for a good time at one of the local beach bars. The biggest crime around here is petty theft and robbery. While out I try to carry only the cash I need for the day and a copy of my passport. The foreigners who have been living here for a while tell me they’ve been broken into at least two times in three years, and our own Noah was pick-pocketed while attending the week of San Juan festivities. The police force is a handful of corrupt men toting AK-47’s. At their discretion the perpetrator can either be hauled off to jail or be asked to pay a bribe.
Child with chicken at the Farmacia.
Locals vs. Outsiders
Local grooming is very important and a marker of whether you are a local or an outsider. Nicans take great pride in their personal appearance and neatness. Even the poorest of campesino with his threadbare and patched clothing takes great care to tuck his shirt in and keep his clothes clean and wrinkle-free. The Nicans wear long pants even on the hottest of days, and the women garb themselves with long colorful dresses and aprons. The homes are very run down, but kept as tidy as possible. Every morning the street is full of people sweeping their porches and washing their floors. The outsiders include the surfer population that “follow the waves” back and forth from Costa Rica to Nica to El Salvador, the occasional frustrated volunteer, and the few who dare vacation down here. We all wear as little clothing as possible: the boys in shorts with no shirts and the girls in bathing suits and wrap skirts. Unshaven internationalistas wearing stained shorts, ripped T-shirts, and natty dreads stand out like sore, malodorous thumbs, even without their trademark bulky backpacks. In comparison to the locals we are the wild barbarians.
Honor System
Purchasing food and drink down here is solely based on the honor system, and it seems to work quite flawlessly. I can walk down to Gato Negro for lunch and order a drink, salad, and sandwich. No one asks for payment as I peruse the store and eat my food. When I’m done, I walk up to the counter and tell them what I owe. Sometimes they double check with a calculator, but otherwise I pay and go on with my day. It would be very foolish to swindle around here as the community is quite small and gossip travels faster than my high school experience. Everyone knows where everyone else lives or is temporarily staying, and it would be only a matter of time and you would be in a lot of trouble.
When your toilet’s manual pump mechanism breaks down or when the city water pressure fails you find yourself learning how to master the manual flush. Next to most of the toilets is a bucket of water that can be used to flush down anything solid. Additionally, with most flush toilets, it is always assumed that used toilet paper is to be put in the basket next to the toilet, not in the bowl, so as not to clog up the weak plumbing. You get used to it.
I haven't been on in a couple of days because the weekend was somewhat uneventful. We enjoyed a Tribute to Michael Jackson on Saturday night... complete with latex gloves and dancing at Iguanas. I cannot express how unique the weather is around here. The evening brings a bit of reprieve from the heat with a cool breeze, but at the same time the entire sky is filled with amazing lightning shows and sporadic warm summer showers. While sitting on the patio at the bar you can look up at the hills and view the Jesus Christo statue whenever light fills the sky.
Dia Seis
My house.
Dia 
The entire village of San Juan 
You have to love fire crackers outside your window at all times of day and night.
The greased pole went on for hours as these gentlemen spit and cursed their way to the top. It was pure comedy to watch.
The rodeo. Not exactly sure what was going on in the arena. Sometimes bull riding. The rest of the time... harassing whatever poor animal was unlucky enough to find themselves amongst the crowd of teenage men that climbed up and over the fence.
