Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Nesting.

 We're home in Utah. Some of the flowers waited for me. And the sunlight.
 And the berries! California must be hopping, because our local store finally gave me enough of a deal to freeze our winter smoothie supply.

 Even raspberries, the hardest berry to pick (I always treat them like gold when I buy them --once half a pound went bad because I wouldn't let the kids eat them in time), were practically being given away.
 So satisfying to have my freezer full.
 Nicaragua was beautiful, but Utah is lovely too.
 Especially my own little corner.

 At least three times a year I see families out getting portraits done in front of this old barn.
 Being in a third world country probably should have made me much less materialistic, but I came home and finally ordered these off my wish list.
It's my favorite blue willow plates. I bought some on sale when Tia was a baby, and Kira bought some, and probably Meesha too, and they've gotten destroyed in the mean time. I only had a few left. Now...bring on the dinner parties! Everything tastes better plated on blue.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Bikram

Yesterday I got an email promotion from Thanksgiving Point, letting us know about $2 Tuesdays, and additional discounts for members on Mondays. The way I read it, it looked like we could take a Bikram yoga class for $2 apiece. "What a great Family Home Evening activity," I thought. I asked Jeff as he strolled past me and my computer, and he quickly said "Let's do it".  I was sure the girls would be excited, but wasn't so sure about Kai. I figured if four out of the five of us wanted to do it, he could try it as a new experience. I think we've gotten a little more adventurous as a family since Nicaragua. I like how we go out on a limb a little more, and I hoped that maybe Kai would actually like it.

Jeff was late getting home from a meeting, and called on his way home to see if we still wanted to go. I started packing the beans and rice and zucchini back into the fridge, and told the kids to go change for yoga.

"No! I'm not going! I don't want to go! I'll stay here!" Kai said. He threw himself over the sofa arm onto the cushions (now I know why that arm is collapsing). "Go change'" I told him. "You will be miserable in jeans and a T-shirt," I added. He didn't move. "OK, I will take you in whatever you are wearing, that's fine" --but I felt guilty as I looked at him.

We rounded up the two measly yoga mats we own, and brought three beach towels to fill in for the rest of us. I grabbed our water bottles, and Jeff threatened until Kai and the rest of us were in the car, already knowing we were going to be late.

It started raining hard as we got close to TP, and, not sure where to go, we followed two guys with rolled up yoga mats into a parking lot, and had them point us in the right direction. We hurried through the rain into the beautiful brick building with a huge SPA sign on the back. Walking in, I felt like the suburban, middle class family that we are, but tried to be brave as I asked if the receptionist thought we could still get into the already started class. Oh she was nice! She assured us we could still take sneak in, believed my discount story although she'd obviously never heard of it (I later found out I was mistaken), and got us set up with a mat for each of us AND a towel. "You'll need that towel in a minute as you start to sweat".

We walked in the door, and it was an act of will for me to not turn and walk right back out again. I started sweating and my heart started racing immediately. Kai escaped "to the bathroom" for the first 5 minutes as we got started. We staggered our mats out, trying not to block anyone's view of the mirrors, and covered them with the towels. The teacher asked if anyone was new, and I raised my hand as high as I could, so everyone would give me a pass if I screwed up. I joined in, raising my hands overhead clasped together like I was holding a pistol, and bent over to the side, as the sweat trickled down my arms into my ears and armpits. The teacher talked a blue streak giving directions, and pushing pushing pushing with her voice: "over, over, OVER!" then clapped twice, said "change" and started moving us around to the other side.
The teacher was very thin, with long, white arms and legs, and wore black. Somehow, her glasses never fogged up, even with the steam coming off 3 dozen bodies in a 105 degree room (Kai checked the thermostat). She didn't do the class with us, just worked her voice very hard. She had a great normal, conversational tone that moved very fast from one set of cues to another. If I spaced out for a second I probably would have been lost if it hadn't been for the bearded, tattooed, shirtless guy to my right, and the extra limber, stocky girl in the sports bra in front of me to my left.

Kai's mat was next to mine, and his face got redder and redder.  He only did every third pose halfheartedly. In between, he just stood there looking at the teacher. Periodically he ran out the door "to the bathroom" for a few minutes. I honestly couldn't blame him. I thought I might be sick.

We placed our feet apart on the mat, hinged at the hips, and brought our head to the floor. Salty sweat ran into my mouth. I had nothing to wipe at it with, as my hands were dripping, everything was dripping. My fingertips were wrinkled like I'd been in the bath for too long. Oddly, I was starting to get used to the heat. The nausea got worse as I attempted camel pose (always a challenge for me), and I passed on doing it the second time. Kai was just sitting on the floor at this point. The teacher came over, and told him how cool he was that he was doing something probably none of his friends had ever done. I chuckled supportively, and said "he's a trooper!", but my usually easygoing, cheerful Kai just stared at her stonily.

I glanced at his watch, and there were only ten minutes left in the hour and a half class. I started the class hoping Bikram classes were shorter than normal yoga classes, and had even gotten fooled with a mid-class Savasana (corpse pose) which is usually saved for the end of  a yoga flow. The Savasana was torture instead of a rest, as the floor was so hot. I felt like my back was getting even hotter than the rest of my body with its full contact. My towel was soaked with what felt like boiling sweat.

The teacher ended the class with another Savasana, and let us know that 7 minutes was ideal to stay in that pose. I did my best, but my best was maybe two. When I saw Jeff rolling up his towel, I threw in mine, and hurried out of the room. The air conditioning was chilly. The bottoms of my capris dripped. As we walked outside, Jeff took the corner of his shirt and twisted a handful of sweat onto the ground. Tia told us sweat dripped up her nose on the forward fold. Ari said we should go do it again tomorrow!

Friday, July 25, 2014

Doing all of the last things --Goodbye Nica!

This has been unlike any vacation I've ever been on. It's been more like learning a new way of life than anything else, which is what we were hoping to accomplish. Although I wish Jeff had gotten more beach time, working is what he has to do so maybe the authenticity is part of the memory for us. 


 Roundup of last minute creatures:
 
 
These were the same moths that Meesha and I saw in Cabo. Funny story about how bad my remembered Spanish  is took place because of these moths. They are the size of my hand.




 This coconut crab and frog were spotted while Kai and I went out at night to try to see a turtle. He never got to see the nesting one if you remember.
 
 
 Rambutans finally found at the market. We ate them right up!
 We're letting Kai listen to audiobooks --we've run out of print books for him.
Kai also found a washed up coconut he was very proud of. I'm hoping we can leave it behind (sshh!).
 
 Last night we took our last trip into town to climb up to the "Christo en ti Confio" statue that stands above San Juan del Sur beach. Did you know there were many of these statues all over central and South America? I thought Rio's was the only one.


 Amazing views from the top.

 


 Underneath there is a little information center/chapel, with lit candles and stories of the miracles the statue was said to have produced.
 
Afterwards we got tacos and ate them out on the beach, watching the sun set.
 
We're going to miss it here.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Bats, Smoke, and toad wallets.

I gave you some stuff out of order. Before we did the Granada tour, there was the Masaya volcano tour. This is an active volcano, one of 19 in Nicaragua (many, many more inactive --I asked my guide once in a moment of tactlessness if he wasn't a little afraid to live here..). We wanted to do the night tour, to maybe be able to see glowy lava stuff, but there was a national holiday, and the park closed at noon (more on that in a minute). Our guide told us that the lava wasn't visible anyway with all of the smoke even at night no matter what the website told us. The other reason for the night tour was a bat cave. Oh my goodness I love bats. We've been talking about a family road trip for two years now to Carlsbad Caverns, NM mainly to see all of the bats fly out at sunset. These guys at Masaya have a similar phenomena, but too bad for us, we went in the morning.
 

Our guide has connections though, and got us a private tour of the bat cave (all evening before, I  randomly turned to Jeff and shouted "TO THE BAT CAVE!"). The park supplied hard hats and flashlights, which we supplemented with our own headlamps. We came to Nicaragua prepared for adventure!
 

Do you know what's hard to take a picture of? Black bats in a black cave. I had about 15 pictures of nothing on my camera when I got out, and yes I had a flash.
 

Our park ranger took us way back into the cave, where indigenous peoples used to sacrifice their children to the volcano gods. Back in what he called the temple, there were so many bats whipping and spinning through the air, zooming past our heads, squealing,  flapping. It was awesome. I kept saying "my mom would love this!". I should say that none of us are scared of bats, although sometimes when one swooped by I'd say "CHUPACABRA!" Sometimes I crack my own self up.
 

Looking at the ceiling and floor of the cave, we would see what looked like moisture on stalactites. In reality, the cave was created by the volcano, and the cooling lava stayed shiny and rippled. Kind of neat. It didn't look like any cave we'd been in before.
 

Spelunkers extraordinaire. Notice Tia and I are wearing skirts? I know it looks impractical, but we are all about staying cool in the heat and skirts are the best for that.
 

Just outside of the cave was the tiny entrance to a second tunnel. The ranger asked us if we wanted to go through it. Our guide said he'd meet us on the other side, that he wouldn't do it.
 

But after Jeff, then Kai, then the rest of us went down, he was shamed into following us.
 

It opened up later on.
 

Next up was the active crater. The whole area was called Masaya, the active crater was Santiago.
 

This was another huge crater next to it,
 

and climbing to the top of this rise we overlook a third.
 

The smoke smelled a lot like sulfur, which made sense, because the Spaniards called this "The mouth of Hell" and erected a giant cross next to it. Isn't Hell supposed to smell of rotten eggs (and sound like dentist drills)?
 

The city of Masaya is home to the largest craft bazaar in the country --called the Mercado de Artesanias.
 

I'll spare you, but took picture after picture of colorful hammocks, purses, clothing, pottery, and shoes. I wished I had a million dollars, and unlimited luggage space. I wanted one of everything.
 

This place also boasted the best smoothie booth we've ever come across. We tried some of these little yellow fruits --I think they are Nance? and I had Mamey Sapote in my smoothie, along with papaya, and one other green fruit I had never seen before and can't remember. Between the kids' smoothies I know there was fresh star fruit, dragon fruit, pineapple, mango, and orange. It was the bomb.
 


After agonizing for an hour or two, Tia and I finally picked out purses, and Ari a blouse.  Kai really wanted a machete, but Jeff was a party pooper (and if he hadn't been, I would have been).
 


This mercado was huge. We never saw more than half of it.
 
 I don't know if you can read this sign, but it says "We can make anything out of crocodile, toad, snake, or iguana." Is that legal? I'm pretty sure croc isn't ok...
 

Toad head wallet anyone?
 

OK. National holiday. On our way back to Granada, we started to see the traffic building up. On this day they celebrate the day 35 years ago when the Sandinistas kicked the old dictator Somoza out of power. It actually was kind of a bloody war, where they forced most able bodied men to fight on one side or the other. Now the Sandinistas (notice the red and black flag) are still in power, led by Daniel Ortega. He is the democratically elected president (kind of), but has changed the constitution so he could do term after term, and the elections are probably rigged. Each year on this day, everybody employed by the government MUST show up in the main square of Managua for his address or they lose their job. Many others go too to celebrate.
 

The bus system closes down, because all buses go to Managua. People pack the buses inside and out. It was pretty crazy. Our guide was NOT pro-Sandinista, although he was grateful for what the group originally did for his country. He's pretty sad about how the old freedom fighters are the new dictators. We heard a lot about politics during our tours. I have been very grateful that although America and Americans have been Nicaragua's enemies for over 100 years in one sense or another (marine occupation for 20 years in the early 1900's, the CIA's contra support during the Reagan admin. etc.), everyone has been nothing but kind to us.