Fodor's Travel Guide....Nica-Style

Well, it's been awhile since I've had the time to post something significant around here. Indeed, I'll be hard pressed to top my last submission... It has been a joy to hear from all well-wishers, friends, and family. Catching up with all of you alone is a tall task. On top of all of this, we had company the last week. Seems that Mike was brave enough to journey to Nica-land.

Actually, it's not all that bad. He pointed out to me that my blogs often take on a somewhat negative tone, or mood, when describing the country in which we live. Hey folks, it's not that bad! I guess sarcasm doesn't translate all that well thru cyberspace. So, in an effort to remain more true to the esprit de corps of the upbeat Atkinson clan, I will attempt to be more positive. There, I said it.

So, in this spirit, I'll fill you in on some of the wonderful things that Nicaragua has to offer, geographical beauty....Shortly before his arrival, Mike made a rough outline of the things he'd like to accomplish during his brief visit. His list included: seeing monkeys, volcanoes, bat caves, beaches, attend a baseball game, and to hit a wiffle ball over our house (courtesy of my pitching of course). Let me just say that he was successful on all but one count.....He never saw the baseball game. (he managed to pick one of seemingly four weeks out of the whole year when there is no organized baseball!).

If you ever make it to Nicaragua, you must make all attempts to flee Managua immediately, if not sooner, and head straight to one of two locations....
Pochomil Pochomil and Mombacho National Park Mombacho

Well, we visited both. First, the beach...Really not anything special as far as beaches go, Pochomil is a popular destination with those looking to escape Managua. About 45 minutes away from the capital, it offers world-class resorts (Montelimar), as well as day-use proletariat facilities. As you might have suspected, we opted for the latter. Folks, it's just more interesting, viewing the world through an unfiltered lens. One of my travel mottos is, 'see what they don't want you to see.....' And that we did. Where else can you buy lobster tail, bull shark jaws, and a slush puppy, all in the same place. I must say, though, the place is a shell of its former self. Tourism has really tapered off here in the past few months. It makes me wonder how profound the Sandinistan turnover will be, in relation to foreign travel. We'll have to wait and see. For us, that meant more unspoiled beach for us, but it also meant more uninvited hawkers as well. So it goes....

As for Mombacho, we got to go up the steepest hill I've ever seen in my life. It reminded me of the Swiss incline trains that you see in the Alps, except Nicas run this thing (ok ok, I'll stop). Anyway, we got up the mountain without a hitch (sorry) and hiked a 'clouded rain forest', seeing a couple of monkeys, vines, and other accoutrements of jungle life. All in all, a well-run, interesting place to visit, only an 45 minutes west of Managua. 5 RR pts. out of 5. Most importantly, the climate is about 20 degrees cooler up there....a nice respite from the searing heat of Managua.

On to bat caves..... a couple of days later, we also went to Masaya Volcano, where a Spanish settler mistakenly (I think) claimed that he found the gates of hell. (depends on your perspective I guess) On the other side of the rim, we ventured into a volcanic cave, armed with flashlights, helmets, and a knowledgeable (and friendly) guide. He pointed out sacrificial sites, bats, and ....ahem, bat dung. So, we saw a lot of Nicaragua, all within an hour of the airport. Bats, bull sharks, and baseball.....This place actually makes for a good 'long weekend' getaway (just so long as you getaway in the end)

Oh yeah, Mike hit one over the house....I hung a breaking ball that never broke, and KABLAMMO! I hurt my neck, looking for it in the hot Nica sun.

Big News In Managua!

Hello All,

Well....Some of you may know by now (we've been exceptionally quiet about this), we have big news in Managua-town. Kim, Brodie, and I are expecting an addition to the family this year. Kim is pregnant.....(I hope it's mine! hahaha.)

Her due date is September 12th. More news to follow... We think it's a girl, as Kim's morning-sickness has been exceptional. Only a girl could cause her mother so much trouble. Well, Brodie is very excited about this news, and has already began sorting out toys to give to his little brother/sister. How sweet and thoughtful....Like father-like son.......

Little Friends

I found this unwanted houseguest last night. Walking barefoot around the house is a thing of the past, as I encountered my arachnid friend waiting for me in the bathroom. Perhaps he was just giving me the Nica greeting. Well, I showed him some American Nike 'Shox and Awe', crushing his spirit (among other things) with my running shoe.

For the record, he was about 8 centimeters long.

The Horror of Technology

Orwell was right. Technology will be the death of society....at least mine. I had a near catastrophe with my computer last night. After hunkering down to a nice replay of the 1995 Florida-Florida State football game (thanks again Mike!), I decided to install iTunes to my laptop, thereby accessing my 100 GB of music files for portable listening. Sounds like a good idea, right?

Well, after 12 hours of file reading, initialization, etc...I awoke this morning to the horrible realization that over 50 GBs of music was missing from my external hard drive. Good grief!! Although I had drank some Tonas last night, I hadn't had enough to do something stupid enough to erase 600 CDs worth of music off my hard drive!!! Anyway, with Mike's visit 4 days away, I knew I'd catch a lot of grief if I didn't have the 50 or so Rolling Stones albums that he sent me!! Well, to make a long story short, somehow the half of my music library ended up on my laptop harddrive. How it got there, I haven't a clue....

Technology is to be feared... The day I understand it, is the day I also understand women....two of life's greatest mysteries.

Jamie the Patriot

Last night, I did my civic duty....I brought the Country Blues to Nicaragua. In celebration of African-American History Month, the Cultural Section of the Embassy organized a series of lectures, and asked me to talk with a group of students, professionals, and others interested in U.S. culture. So....in this spirit, I discussed a theme that really transcends borders, languages, and all other artificial boundaries of the human spirit.....music. I talked about early 20th-century Blues pioneers: Leadbelly, Blind Willie Johnson, and Blind Blake.

The night was a success, if I must say so.....despite choosing a twice-convicted murdering communist (Leadbelly) as one of my shining examples..... hahahahaha

Japanese Nica Party

Well color me impressed. I've been to my first Japanese Nicaraguan 4-Year Old Twins' Birthday Party. You live long enough in this strange world, and you will see just about all you could care to see. Today was no exception. You know you've had a great day, when you reflect on it and lament the fact that you forgot the camera.

It started out harmless enough...I worked on my Blues presentation for the 28th, I surfed the internet, drank my morning cup of coffee, the usual. I didn't get to work out, or go running, which was a bummer. But, what the heck....one day isn't going to make a difference. So, I 'took it easy' in the morning. At noon, I was prepared to pick up Brodie, buy a birthday present for 'Nica Party', and go smash pinatas for a couple of hours. After picking up some gifts for the Japanese twins (Mai and Kaoru) with a friend, and fellow preschool parent, we all headed to the bash.

Luckily, this affair turned out to be a lot more reasonable, which was good and bad. Good, because there was no arrogance, unnecessary flair and display of wealth....Bad, because there was no single malt scotch, fully stocked bar, nor any pony rides, golf carts escorting guests, etc... Oh well, I guess this would turn out to be a normal party after all, despite it being a 'Japanese Nicaraguan Twins' 4-Year Old Birthday Party'. The food was sort of normal. There was Pizza Hut, sushi rolls, potato cakes and all the standard fare...Sodas of all colors and flavors. Depressingly, at least to my friend Luis and I, there didn't appear to be any cervezas. Luckily, Japanese dad recognized the universal 30-something dude look for 'I'm thirsty', and soon produced a semi-cold Corona for both of us. It was one of those, 'Oh my, I didn't realize men were going to show up!'

Normally, it would've just been 'man' (singular), but Luis's wife, Arantxa, (my usual Nica party companion) had been in 'Nica car accident' earlier in the morning, and was receiving 'Nica medical attention/pharmaceuticals'.....So, the party must go on. Luis and I sat back like wolves in a pasture, admiring the sheep and lambs, sipping our beers in the sweltering heat. John Wayne would've been proud... At any rate, we wore smiles, watched our kids, and made the normal Japanese Nica 4-Year Old Twins' Birthday Party small talk with the parents. Of minor note, the empleadas (nannies) all congregated over in the shade like they knew about the brutal sun, while the two caucasian wolves basked in the sun.....until it was pinata time!

Pinata time is the climax of Nica party...Any Nica party worth its weight has a professional pinata handler (similar to a snake handler, sans anti-venom on hand). This party was no different. But, this pinata was different....It wouldn't succomb to the kids' collective violence. Paper mache Winnie the Pooh withstood a barrage of body blows. Even after seeing the new Rocky movie, the barbarism made me cringe. That is, until Ichiro put on his batting gloves. After literally breaking pinata stick in half over the cast iron hind quarters of Paper mache Winnie, Ichiro brought out the broom handle....After an agonizing struggle, Winnie succombed to stick-wielding Japanese dad.

Then it happened......In what turned out to be the 'anti-climatic' moment of the party....just as all of the children were poised to claim their loot, una empleada elefante Nica (fat Nica nanny) blocked Brodie from sugarland delight like Charles Barkley, actually falling to all fours, stuffing candies with both fat hands, with alarming grace and dexterity. It's like when you watch the nature shows and they show alligators laying around for hours on end, and they warn, you should know, alligators can run faster than dogs and small horses....that sort of thing. And you say, 'c'mon! that can't be.... Well, it can. I saw it. Had the congregation of children seeking candy been a pie chart, her butt would've taken up at least a third of the surface area. In the end, she had successfully filled her backpack to the brim....while my dejected Brodie came away with one piece of candy....one piece. I saw the price he had to pay for that one as well...After the fracus, there was one of those little pathetic cinnamon candies that you get at the doctor's office, and Brodie stuck his little digits out there bravely, only to get stepped on, before finally cashing in....

In the end, another empleada saw the whole thing unfold, and eventually coerced her kid to share the wealth, which reinforced my theory about the world being a simple place really. There are two kinds of people (irregardless of religion, class, nationality, skin color, etc...) 'nice people', and, well, let's just call them, 'not-so-nice people'. So, that was Japanese 4-Year Old Twins' Birthday Party. It was a good party. Luis and I ended up scoring two more Tonas apiece. He reminded me that if he didn't have cold cervezas at his son's party, I need to punch him in the face....Of course, I told him I'd comply with that reasonable demand....On On to the next soiree....Ciao!

Managua Town Redux & Capote

Well, I may have been a little harsh in my last depiction of Managua Town, so I'll try to lighten up a bit. Tomorrow, we're off to another vaunted celebration of 4 year old Nica-dom. Brodie has yet another social engagement, this time with some fellow expats (I think they're Japanese...we'll see) Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes.

In other news, Kim and I finally watched Capote last night. Netflix served up a doozy with this one. For those of you not familiar with Truman Capote, I'll give a little background...

One of the great Southern writers of the latter 20th century, Truman Capote's life started with a bang, and ended with a fizzle. Capote is best known for three things: An eccentric high society gadfly and voyeur, the author of Breakfast At Tiffany's, and later, In Cold Blood, in essence creating the genre of fictional novel.

With the latter, Capote departs the glam, posh, glitz of black tie New York haute couture, and delves into a dark story of murder and mayhem on the remote Kansas plains. Late in 1959, two ex-cons, guided by inside info from the big house, travel to a remote Kansas farmhouse, to rob a wealthy farmer and his family. Instead, they end up murdering the family, and coming away with a measly $50 for their deed. Enter Capote, who, in passing, reads a 300 word snippet in the New York Times about the crime, has an epiphany....thus, he descends upon the devastated little hamlet, with childhood friend, fellow author, and sidekick, Harper Lee (author of the American canon classic, 'To Kill A Mockingbird').
This is where our film essentially begins. Capote is established on New York nightclub circuit, a big personality, well-read it's well known. He reads the othewise insignificant local story about brutal murder in faraway Kansas, decides in the moment, this is the story that he was meant to tell. So, upon arriving in quaint Holcomb, Capote and Lee map out their strategy of acquainting themselves with all of the characters, sifting through details of the personal lives, the crime scene, anchoring themselves to the human pulse of the story, storing away the details, real and imagined. Lee is particularly adept at opening doors, using a feminine comraderie that Capote is unable to perform....at least initially.

In time, Capote's character takes over, a born charmer. He once remarked, 'you are either a writer, or you aren't', alluding to his belief that college was a pointless endeavor for his profession. Telling a story was like an orange. An orange is an orange. There are no questions to be had about it. Stories are the same....if you still have questions after reading the story, or you think it could be told a different way, then, the story isn't very good. If, after reading the story, you are satisfied, and able to move on, then, that is a good story. College cannot teach that. Similarly, some people have charisma, others don't. You cannot teach it. Capote has charisma. In the end, his charm is his undoing, though not shown in the film, save a couple snippets in the closing moments.

He charms the stern sheriff, the sheriff's wife, his scorned lover back east, his editor, Harper Lee, and most importantly, Perry Smith, the trigger man for the grisly murders in Holcomb, Kansas. Perry and Truman end up having a lot in common, both are 'outsiders', a theme Capote uses to manipulate the violent, yet strangely vulnerable Smith. In fact, manipulation proves to be his most adept 'research' skill as a writer. He lies for lying's sake.

At any rate, the bulk of the movie concerns the bond which grows improbably between the two. As Capote's manipulation grows, so does an audience for his much awaited account of the events of that horrible Kansas day. Years drag on, Smith and the other killer, Dick Hickock (such a 'bad guy' name....I cannot imagine many upstanding 'Dick Hickocks' in the world) languish on death row, yet Capote still needs his knockout punch, to justify the Don King-esque zeal in which he has pre-sold his idea and book for his publisher and audience. The intensity and gravity of his deception culminates in the somber realization that Perry Smith will soon be executed. In the end, Capote gets his confession and meaty story of bloodlust, but he pays a price.

A completely changed man, Truman Capote would never write another novel. A truly good movie...dark, intelligent, and a stirring performance by Philip Seymour Hoffman. I give it 4 RRPs (Ramblin' Round Points) out of 5. Wish me luck on the Nica party... I may need the single malt scotch this go 'round.....