Well, first of all, I'm no longer in Managua....Second, although I do occasionally follow happenings there (especially now, with all the post-election violence and instability), I just don't have the time to maintain this blog.
As many of you well know, I'm up to my eyeballs learning Bulgarian. So, my hopes are, in the future, to start a similar site dedicated to Bulgaria, and our future plans in Sofia. So....it's been a fun ride, and I will leave all of this material up for posterity. Likewise, I will link up my new Bulgarian blog in the coming year (once I get my head wrapped around the past-perfect tense and the subjective voice of the Bulgarian langauge!)
Managua will always hold a dear place in my heart. It was the best of times, the worst of times, to paraphrase an English master.
Va pues!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
A New Beginning in the US!
Congratulations to Barack Obama and the rest of our country. A change is gonna come! Now we can 'reel in the years' of Bush mismanagement and move forward!
Friday, June 27, 2008
Turtle Man
Since I'm a stone's throw from Kentucky, I'll give you a little taste of the Bluegrass State's own Turtle Man...Enjoy!
Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Last Post from Managua
Well, I sit here enjoying a little champagne....err, well, Nica-champagne from Pricemart. It's the best I can do, and I guess that's the theme for anyone living in a place like Nicaragua. It's been good, it's been bad, it's been sobering. Ironically, I've spent as little time possible in that state of mind, but it's inevitable that you learn a lot from an experience, such as living here.
Sure, you'll run across people that tell you it's paradise in Nicaragua, but I think they're wrong, at least partly. Before you argue with me, consider....there are beautiful people, places, and things to do here. But, in the end, the heaviness of the poverty trumps everything. I'm confident Africa and other locales are much worse, but for me, right now, I've had enough for a little while. So....I leave tomorrow with a sobering experience...
I wonder what healthy perspective I will have 2 weeks from now, as I dine off of the fat of the land to the north??
Thoughts, comments?? I know that some of you that read this drivel have actually lived here as well. I'd love to hear your final thoughts as you left...and how your memory serves you after returning to a 'normal' Western world....
Sure, you'll run across people that tell you it's paradise in Nicaragua, but I think they're wrong, at least partly. Before you argue with me, consider....there are beautiful people, places, and things to do here. But, in the end, the heaviness of the poverty trumps everything. I'm confident Africa and other locales are much worse, but for me, right now, I've had enough for a little while. So....I leave tomorrow with a sobering experience...
I wonder what healthy perspective I will have 2 weeks from now, as I dine off of the fat of the land to the north??
Thoughts, comments?? I know that some of you that read this drivel have actually lived here as well. I'd love to hear your final thoughts as you left...and how your memory serves you after returning to a 'normal' Western world....
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Mixed Emotions
I'm not the only one......with mixed emotions (so goes the song)[Keith + Mick]
Yep, Managua is almost in the rearview mirror now. There are two prevailing groups of people that we encounter these days, the ones that we've shared our lives with the last two years, and the ones that we're about to reunite with.
As for the latter, this part is easy.... We'll soon be with friends and family, recounting our 2 years apart, catching up and retelling stories, showing our sons the things and people that they've been missing. Filling in the blanks on those that we hold dear....our American roots, the people, places, and things that make up who we are/were/and will be.
The leaving is the hardest part though. On one hand, I feel the excitement of the move, the cleansing of the soul, not to mention all the excess 'stuff' that we've eliminated from our lives. But, as the days wear on, we say goodbye to more and more people, to folks that we've shared our lives with, to those that have merely made it easier. Nicaragua can be a rough place. Aside from all the beaches, cocktail parties, and so forth, I'm leaving behind a country that is much worse off than it was when I arrived. This week, I'll say goodbye to our gardener. You can see the stress in Juan's eyes, as he contemplates his future without ready employment. In a country with over 40% unemployment and booming inflation, he's about to enter an insecure world, free of grass clippings and a steady salary. In truth, there are thousands of Juan's in this country, and after a while, you begin to deaden inside a little bit.
On a more personal note, last night we said goodbye to perhaps our closest friends here in Managua....a family with which we've shared the good times, along with the bad. It didn't hit me until last night as we were leaving....this is a tough life that we are leading, traipsing through the world, making friends, saying goodbye...a cruel cycle for the sentimental. So it goes.... I'm not good at saying 'goodbye', because there's a sense of finality that I believe only comes with death. For that reason, I refuse to succumb to the idea that I'll never see them again. Indeed, we've already began preliminary plans to reunite in either Bulgaria or the United Arab Emirates (their probable destination). Not burdened (too much) by our Spanish language deficiencies, we've spent many a hazy Sunday sitting on their porch, sharing our life experiences, while watching our children grow up, literally. I can remember our sons, as they first met, marveling at a grasshopper toy that they both coveted, and the subsequent 'meeting/evaluation of the parents' that followed. An essential guide to Managua social life for expat parents, socializing through our children necessitates finding adults that you enjoy being around. In some ways, I felt more akin to them than some of my own compatriots here. Today, they leave for their native Spain. They will be sorely missed.
So it goes....in a bit, I'm heading out to say farewells at Brodie's preschool, a despidida, as they say here. There will be cake, songs, a celebration, and other fanfare. But, at the end of the day, it will yet another 'goodbye'. Our son has finally begun to show signs that the move is affecting him as well. He hasn't been himself the last couple days, and we suspect that the heaviness of knowing that he won't see his friends is weighing him down. Sure, he'll enjoy the cake and festivities, but I know, deep down, his heart is heavy. For that, mine is too...
Yep, Managua is almost in the rearview mirror now. There are two prevailing groups of people that we encounter these days, the ones that we've shared our lives with the last two years, and the ones that we're about to reunite with.
As for the latter, this part is easy.... We'll soon be with friends and family, recounting our 2 years apart, catching up and retelling stories, showing our sons the things and people that they've been missing. Filling in the blanks on those that we hold dear....our American roots, the people, places, and things that make up who we are/were/and will be.
The leaving is the hardest part though. On one hand, I feel the excitement of the move, the cleansing of the soul, not to mention all the excess 'stuff' that we've eliminated from our lives. But, as the days wear on, we say goodbye to more and more people, to folks that we've shared our lives with, to those that have merely made it easier. Nicaragua can be a rough place. Aside from all the beaches, cocktail parties, and so forth, I'm leaving behind a country that is much worse off than it was when I arrived. This week, I'll say goodbye to our gardener. You can see the stress in Juan's eyes, as he contemplates his future without ready employment. In a country with over 40% unemployment and booming inflation, he's about to enter an insecure world, free of grass clippings and a steady salary. In truth, there are thousands of Juan's in this country, and after a while, you begin to deaden inside a little bit.
On a more personal note, last night we said goodbye to perhaps our closest friends here in Managua....a family with which we've shared the good times, along with the bad. It didn't hit me until last night as we were leaving....this is a tough life that we are leading, traipsing through the world, making friends, saying goodbye...a cruel cycle for the sentimental. So it goes.... I'm not good at saying 'goodbye', because there's a sense of finality that I believe only comes with death. For that reason, I refuse to succumb to the idea that I'll never see them again. Indeed, we've already began preliminary plans to reunite in either Bulgaria or the United Arab Emirates (their probable destination). Not burdened (too much) by our Spanish language deficiencies, we've spent many a hazy Sunday sitting on their porch, sharing our life experiences, while watching our children grow up, literally. I can remember our sons, as they first met, marveling at a grasshopper toy that they both coveted, and the subsequent 'meeting/evaluation of the parents' that followed. An essential guide to Managua social life for expat parents, socializing through our children necessitates finding adults that you enjoy being around. In some ways, I felt more akin to them than some of my own compatriots here. Today, they leave for their native Spain. They will be sorely missed.
So it goes....in a bit, I'm heading out to say farewells at Brodie's preschool, a despidida, as they say here. There will be cake, songs, a celebration, and other fanfare. But, at the end of the day, it will yet another 'goodbye'. Our son has finally begun to show signs that the move is affecting him as well. He hasn't been himself the last couple days, and we suspect that the heaviness of knowing that he won't see his friends is weighing him down. Sure, he'll enjoy the cake and festivities, but I know, deep down, his heart is heavy. For that, mine is too...
Monday, June 9, 2008
Yin and Yang of Managua Parties
Tale of two parties....Saturday night's party was great. What a treat, spending the evening with some of my closest friends in Managua. Sunday afternoon was not so great, sitting around like a hungover lizard, listening to drivel from a bunch of Nica freeloaders. More about that later....
But first, let me say that Saturday night's party was a fitting end to my party circuit in this hazy Central American capital. In all, about 40-50 folks from the Embassy community showed up, including a couple friends from the Manzanita mafia (a Spanish-Nica couple that we've come to know through our son's preschool). Let's see, I drank keg beer, ate chocolate cake, did shots of tequila, even played wiffle ball with some Americans and a Swedish couple (ahem, I even hit one over the house, which, in my book, is a homerun!). I let my hair down, so to speak....which to my good fortune, is all possible when you live 3 houses away from the gala locale....by the way, kudos and special thanks to the hostess that made all this possible.
Perhaps as a sign of how good a time I was having, I have no idea when I got home. All I know, is that I drained every last second out of the fun. As they say in sports, 'I left it all on the field'....
On the other hand, yesterday's 'despidida' was a different story. As some of you may know, I take tennis lessons here in Manangua. My teacher, the patriarch of Managua's most renowned tennis family, had been inviting me for some time to partake in a weekend 'lechon', or a Nica pig roast. One of his cousins owns a restaurant just outside of town, and knowing that my time is short here, I finally relented. It's not that I didn't want to go, it just seems that there is always something else going on.
So, around 10am, I show up with my tennis prof, at which point I'm really hungover from the previous evening's festivities. So, what do you think I do.....ahem, have a beer! Good grief!! So it went.... I spent the next 3-4 hours shooting the breeze with Jorge and a menage of Nica troubadours, ranging from close cousins, to just plain thirsty acquaintances. Around 2 pm, I decided that I'd had enough. I don't know if it was one guy 'offering' one of his female teenage cousins to me that did it, or was it the proclamation that 'Americans are narrow-minded'. Maybe it was the banter about American politics, revealing an ignorance that borders on a time in America when folks sat around the general store and waxed poetic about things they had no knowledge about whatsoever. I mean, where do you begin? But after all, I'd been invited for this farewell as a send-off, and I'd 'done my time' out of respect.
But, I'm afraid the Sunday Nica brunch left a bitter taste in my mouth. You see, when it was time to go, we asked for the check, which amounted to my prof's cousin bringing me the bill of over $60 and everyone sitting there, staring at me. Unfortunately, I didn't have that kind of cash on me. In fact, I'm lucky I brought much at all. So, I paid what I had, leaving me penniless, fuming, and ..... I still had to give my tennis prof a ride back into town. Not only that, I was letting half the restaurant use my cell phone, as they were all either too thirsty or poor to have any minutes on their phones.
I don't mind paying my share. In fact, in my time in Nicaragua, I've grown accustomed to the idea that, I'm a rich American in their eyes and am made of money. I'm the freaking money tree, nothing more, nothing less. That's the sad reality that prevents most anyone from making any real, genuine friendships in this country. I should've known better. Not only did I spend my Sunday afternoon away from my family, I wasted money on a bunch of freeloading drunks under the guise of 'oh, we're going to miss you....you're different from all the other Americans' nonsense. I can speak the local dialect, carry on conversations for hours on end.....Heck, I can even take my shirt off and play with my bellybutton like some deadbeat Nica drifter. But, at the end of the day, I just another foreigner to leech off of. Sadly, I see this as a metaphor for the greater struggle that goes on in this country.
I feel for the good, honest, hard-working people of this country. The ones like our nanny, a person I have the utmost respect for. Unfortunately, they are almost invisible, amidst the vast majority of those that I have come into contact with in Managua. Every day, I encounter those that cannot see me as an individual, only as someone to dupe and take advantage of. I'd rather be just ripped off in Huembes, than to know someone for a year or so, thinking that perhaps you are more to them than a pathetic handout, only to be disappointed yet again. It's like after getting punched in the gut so many times, you stupidly put your guard down once more, only to be wailed on one last time. Adios Managua!
But first, let me say that Saturday night's party was a fitting end to my party circuit in this hazy Central American capital. In all, about 40-50 folks from the Embassy community showed up, including a couple friends from the Manzanita mafia (a Spanish-Nica couple that we've come to know through our son's preschool). Let's see, I drank keg beer, ate chocolate cake, did shots of tequila, even played wiffle ball with some Americans and a Swedish couple (ahem, I even hit one over the house, which, in my book, is a homerun!). I let my hair down, so to speak....which to my good fortune, is all possible when you live 3 houses away from the gala locale....by the way, kudos and special thanks to the hostess that made all this possible.
Perhaps as a sign of how good a time I was having, I have no idea when I got home. All I know, is that I drained every last second out of the fun. As they say in sports, 'I left it all on the field'....
On the other hand, yesterday's 'despidida' was a different story. As some of you may know, I take tennis lessons here in Manangua. My teacher, the patriarch of Managua's most renowned tennis family, had been inviting me for some time to partake in a weekend 'lechon', or a Nica pig roast. One of his cousins owns a restaurant just outside of town, and knowing that my time is short here, I finally relented. It's not that I didn't want to go, it just seems that there is always something else going on.
So, around 10am, I show up with my tennis prof, at which point I'm really hungover from the previous evening's festivities. So, what do you think I do.....ahem, have a beer! Good grief!! So it went.... I spent the next 3-4 hours shooting the breeze with Jorge and a menage of Nica troubadours, ranging from close cousins, to just plain thirsty acquaintances. Around 2 pm, I decided that I'd had enough. I don't know if it was one guy 'offering' one of his female teenage cousins to me that did it, or was it the proclamation that 'Americans are narrow-minded'. Maybe it was the banter about American politics, revealing an ignorance that borders on a time in America when folks sat around the general store and waxed poetic about things they had no knowledge about whatsoever. I mean, where do you begin? But after all, I'd been invited for this farewell as a send-off, and I'd 'done my time' out of respect.
But, I'm afraid the Sunday Nica brunch left a bitter taste in my mouth. You see, when it was time to go, we asked for the check, which amounted to my prof's cousin bringing me the bill of over $60 and everyone sitting there, staring at me. Unfortunately, I didn't have that kind of cash on me. In fact, I'm lucky I brought much at all. So, I paid what I had, leaving me penniless, fuming, and ..... I still had to give my tennis prof a ride back into town. Not only that, I was letting half the restaurant use my cell phone, as they were all either too thirsty or poor to have any minutes on their phones.
I don't mind paying my share. In fact, in my time in Nicaragua, I've grown accustomed to the idea that, I'm a rich American in their eyes and am made of money. I'm the freaking money tree, nothing more, nothing less. That's the sad reality that prevents most anyone from making any real, genuine friendships in this country. I should've known better. Not only did I spend my Sunday afternoon away from my family, I wasted money on a bunch of freeloading drunks under the guise of 'oh, we're going to miss you....you're different from all the other Americans' nonsense. I can speak the local dialect, carry on conversations for hours on end.....Heck, I can even take my shirt off and play with my bellybutton like some deadbeat Nica drifter. But, at the end of the day, I just another foreigner to leech off of. Sadly, I see this as a metaphor for the greater struggle that goes on in this country.
I feel for the good, honest, hard-working people of this country. The ones like our nanny, a person I have the utmost respect for. Unfortunately, they are almost invisible, amidst the vast majority of those that I have come into contact with in Managua. Every day, I encounter those that cannot see me as an individual, only as someone to dupe and take advantage of. I'd rather be just ripped off in Huembes, than to know someone for a year or so, thinking that perhaps you are more to them than a pathetic handout, only to be disappointed yet again. It's like after getting punched in the gut so many times, you stupidly put your guard down once more, only to be wailed on one last time. Adios Managua!
Saturday, June 7, 2008
More Dylan Politics...
Well, I'm off to yet another party....but, this one actually pertains to us directly, a despidida, or a farewell party for our family, as well as two others in the community. Lots of drink, cabayo bayo, music, and dancing. Should be a lot of fun! A 'blow out' of sorts....I should be plenty thirsty.
So...if you are thirsty, grab a cold one and read this latest story on Dylan and his seeming endorsement of Barack Obama. Enjoy!
Friday, June 6, 2008
The Times They Are A-Changin'
Bob Dylan endorses Barack Obama. Read it here.
Fascinating......Dylan painting masterpieces and endorsing the first black presidential candidate. A long ways from him singing 'When the Ship Comes In' in the early sixties, preceding Martin Luther King Jr.'s 'I have a Dream' speech. Maybe Mr. Dylan will see that dream come true....
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Monkey Wrenches.....Government Style!
Looks like I'm going to have to part with some old friends here in Nicaragua. It seems our government has restrictions on shipping for our 'short-term' move to Arlington for language training. Everything under 37' long must be shipped to our 'onward' assignment in Bulgaria.
Hence, no crib, elliptical trainer, bowflex, kitchen table....and most importantly, a day of reckoning for Jamie's guitars...all 4 of 'em. Looks like I have to choose two to take with me. So....in the spirit of being a good father/husband, I have decided against asking my family to make room for 4 guitars in the trunk of the car this summer, in what will be an epic roadtrip around our great nation.
So...goodbye 12-string Takamine FP-400s.....adios antique 1925 Oscar Schmidt Carl Fischer all-Koa wood Hawaiian parlor guitar....hello eBay, hello cold cash and beer money for, what should be, an exciting summer to come. Who would've ever thought it would come to this! I'm keeping two Nicaraguan-made custom guitars, one I haven't even played yet. I guess if I don't get a fair price for the parlor guitar, I can ship it to some friends in Springfield, Virginia for safekeeping. (that's what I prefer really, the backup, failsafe Jamie gets to keep 3 guitar option...hehehe)
Ahh, the life of nomads!
Hence, no crib, elliptical trainer, bowflex, kitchen table....and most importantly, a day of reckoning for Jamie's guitars...all 4 of 'em. Looks like I have to choose two to take with me. So....in the spirit of being a good father/husband, I have decided against asking my family to make room for 4 guitars in the trunk of the car this summer, in what will be an epic roadtrip around our great nation.
So...goodbye 12-string Takamine FP-400s.....adios antique 1925 Oscar Schmidt Carl Fischer all-Koa wood Hawaiian parlor guitar....hello eBay, hello cold cash and beer money for, what should be, an exciting summer to come. Who would've ever thought it would come to this! I'm keeping two Nicaraguan-made custom guitars, one I haven't even played yet. I guess if I don't get a fair price for the parlor guitar, I can ship it to some friends in Springfield, Virginia for safekeeping. (that's what I prefer really, the backup, failsafe Jamie gets to keep 3 guitar option...hehehe)
Ahh, the life of nomads!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Furniture Shopping
I'm so excited to get to the States and do my furniture shopping. I was planning on going to Ikea until I saw this guy. Now, I may have to go to Alabama for the bedroom set.
Pay Attention!
So, I'm chatting with my folks today... talking about the upcoming move, current happenings with the kids, etc.... I didn't even realize that Tropical Storm Alma was rearing its ugly head off the Nicaraguan coast. You know, when the rainy season starts here, you don't really notice when the streets begin flooding.
From the trash-clogged sewer drains, washed out roads, to the merely befuddled Nica pedestrians, you would've just thought it a normal day. In all, it just rained....and rained some more. Didn't stop me from going to Masaya and chatting up Sergio Zepeda, the famous Nicaraguan luthier that is responsible for my first, and only classical guitar.
'Number 2'
Taking him up on an earlier offer, I commissioned him to make a replica of a Martin OM-45 guitar. (Here's an example) Let me just say, this was the guitar that Roy Rogers, Woody Guthrie, and seemingly every other songster of yesteryear made famous. You see, I have two great keepsakes from Nicaragua. Of course, there is Ewan!! Without question my favorite Nica of all!! Then, there is my classical guitar. So.....I'm going for 'number 3'..... perhaps 'number 2'.......BUT, never will it be 'number 1'!
'Number 1'
So it went today....I set out for the artisan town of Masaya, despite flooded streets, road disintegration, and a tropical storm slamming the Pacific coast....all for my Nica fake Martin guitar! We'll see how it turns out...the 'due date' is June 15th.
From the trash-clogged sewer drains, washed out roads, to the merely befuddled Nica pedestrians, you would've just thought it a normal day. In all, it just rained....and rained some more. Didn't stop me from going to Masaya and chatting up Sergio Zepeda, the famous Nicaraguan luthier that is responsible for my first, and only classical guitar.
'Number 2'
Taking him up on an earlier offer, I commissioned him to make a replica of a Martin OM-45 guitar. (Here's an example) Let me just say, this was the guitar that Roy Rogers, Woody Guthrie, and seemingly every other songster of yesteryear made famous. You see, I have two great keepsakes from Nicaragua. Of course, there is Ewan!! Without question my favorite Nica of all!! Then, there is my classical guitar. So.....I'm going for 'number 3'..... perhaps 'number 2'.......BUT, never will it be 'number 1'!
'Number 1'
So it went today....I set out for the artisan town of Masaya, despite flooded streets, road disintegration, and a tropical storm slamming the Pacific coast....all for my Nica fake Martin guitar! We'll see how it turns out...the 'due date' is June 15th.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Winding Down in Managua Town
Well....the end is drawing near. That is, my adventures in Nicaragua are coming to a close. In the coming days and weeks, I'll try to do a better job with the 'little blog that could'. Actually, I don't even know what this blog is about anymore. I started out with the idea of a kind of a voyeur-ish look at life for an expat in Managua. For better or worse, that never really happened.
At first, there were stories of iguana fishing on the roof with the gardener (read: hot dog chunks, 10 lb. test line....and lots of time on our hands), extravagant piñatas, and even a good ole beach retreat. Then, it morphed into a sort of movie and blues review site....rife with stories of old blind bluesmen and classic movies that I've never seen. Finally, it devolved into a lazy ritual of posting youtube videos that I found interesting, interspersed with some random commentary about the expat life and our lives in general (at this point, I think Mom is the only one paying attention...um, 'hi Mom!').
So, as we wind things down here. Or, shall I say, when we finally decide to take this horse out and shoot it, I'll do my best to put closure on Managua. Who knows, maybe I'll start up another blog when we begin our year of Bulgarian language training in the States. (don't you hate it when folks say, 'we're from "the States"'? It's so.....Gen X.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Thirsty?
The Unhealthiest Drink in America Baskin Robbin’s Large Heath Bar Shake (32 oz)
2,310 calories
266 g sugar
108 g fat (64 g saturated)
Let's look at America's Worst Drink in numbers:
73: The number of ingredients that go into this milkshake.
66: The number of teaspoons of sugar this drink contains.
11: The number of Heath Bars you would have to eat to equal the number of calories found in one Baskin Robbins Large Heath Bar Shake.
8-12: The average number of minutes it takes to consume this drink.
240: The number of minutes you’d need to spend on a treadmill burning it off, running at a moderate pace.
....thanks to Yahoo......
Well, I can't say that I'm ready for this part of my return visit to the good ole U.S. of A. I need to be careful, very careful.....
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Poor Andruw
Monday, May 5, 2008
Gone Fishin' in San Juan del Sur
Had a great time with some friends from Atlanta. We caught 15 or so mahi-mahi. Unfortunately, we had to get back to the children and couldn't stay longer. It was nice to feel 'free' again, but even nicer to see the innocent faces of our beautiful children. In all, a very relaxing weekend getaway.....a subtle reminder that Nicaragua is like an onion....as you peel away the many layers, you find varying textures and surprises.
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