Granada Nicaragua | No Particular Place To Go

Tag Archives: Granada Nicaragua

Granada In The Rear View

Posted on May 17, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 12 comments

Granada, Spain conjures up visions of the fabled history of Andalusia, the breath-taking magnificence of the Alhambra, the Moorish conquerors turned overlords.

La Catedral

But Granada, Nicaragua? Before our Nicaragua sojourn our conversations with travelers suggested to us that we would prefer Leon, Granada’s sister city on Lake Managua, which is the larger of the two cities, the liberal bastion, the university town. Granada is smaller, more commercial, more conservative, favored by tourists seeking more amenities. We were fully prepared to be drawn more to Leon; so it came as somewhat of a surprise that we were captivated by Granada, Nicaragua.

The Old Hospital Ruins

In Granada the colonial architecture around the city is being refurbished and upgraded; its charm enhanced with each renovation. The city has begun to effectively lure the tourist – the more affluent class beyond the transient, back-packer crowd.

Hotel on Avenida Calzada

Avenida Calzada, jutting out of Parque Central, is a vital, bustling, pedestrian thoroughfare crowded with restaurants catering to many tastes. The adjoining streets offer more eateries, watering holes, souvenir shops selling traditional handicrafts and shops seeking to accommodate the needs of a growing city.

Kathy’s Waffle House

Scattered around the historic city center are the cathedrals and churches which lend an air of dignity and accentuate the beauty of the skyline. Breezes blowing off Lake Nicaragua help cool the air, in all but the dry season, vitalizing the city.

Iglesia Guadalupe

The physical expression of a city is fundamentally important; it’s the first impression, it’s what keeps you wanting to dig deeper, to know more. And what began to emerge, what drew us back for the third and extended stay was the relaxed feel and hospitality exerted by the expat community of varying backgrounds and nationalities. There is an eclectic mix of full-time residents, part-time residents and visitors driven by a multitude of personal motivations. The mix includes retirees, entrepreneurs, gap-year students, NGO professionals, volunteers, vagabonds and thrill-seekers. And most have those ex-pat qualities of gregariousness and affability. It is the norm to run into acquaintances on any short journey as we walk about the city and, since shank’s mare is the preferred mode of travel, social contact is amplified.

Old Train Depot

To augment the welcoming ambiance provided by the architecture and the expats, there is also the availability of world-class medical care and international transportation options found in the capital, Managua, just a short drive north of Granada. Vivian Pellas Medical Center, a newly constructed facility and private hospital, offers exceptional health care services at extremely affordable costs; it’s possible to ensure medical coverage through a monthly payment option. International flights are readily available at the Augusto C. Sandino International Airport to whisk tourists and expats to the States, Canada or any onward destination. Tica Bus Line has daily routes to all the capital cities in Central America and Mexico, so low-cost modes of transport are available for shorter jaunts.

So it’s hard to leave a city that we have come to appreciate and friends with whom we’ve had great conversations and with whom we could develop deeper bonds given more time. But we both agree that it’s time for new experiences and locations; time to leave a city and a country that have imprinted themselves upon us and move south, leaving Granada in the rear view.

La Iglesia Xalteva

By Anita and Richard, May, 2014

Competing For Candy

Posted on April 12, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 6 comments

We were not certain what to expect as we walked into the auditorium of Casa de Tres Mundo in the heart of Granada on a Friday morning. We knew that we were attending a scholarship contest for Priscila, the 10 year-old daughter of Yanni, whose family has graciously lent a portion of their home to the school where we had volunteered for the last three months. In fact, we had supervised our older class the previous day in making posters to raise and wave supporting Priscila’s effort in competing for the prize. And we knew that some of the volunteers had been working closely with Priscila the last couple of weeks on the academic portion of the match, rehearsing answers to the questions that might be asked. We also understood that of the eight participants, only one would advance to the final competition in the capital city, Managua.

Now we were prepared to operate on SOTB (South of the Border) time; we’ve pretty much acclimated to that aspect of life in Latin America. So we knew that we might have a bit of a wait when we arrived on time at 9:00 AM. But we had our friends and volunteers from the school there, Priscila’s immediate family, the directors of the NGO and a small contingent of students from the Pantanal school. The minutes ticked by slowly and, when the event finally began, it was not fashionably late, it wasn’t SOTB late, it was an hour and forty minutes late. Even the locals were beginning to despair.

We used some of the long wait profitably, however, and learned a bit about our hosts, MILAVF and La Fundacion Casa de Tres Mundos. The former, known also as Movimiento Infantil or the Children’s Movement, is a nationwide organization that, for 34 years, has worked to enact and enforce child protection laws. They work in communities with at-risk children and adolescents, organizing them into dance troupes, sports clubs, performing and visual arts classes and ecological projects. La Fundacion Casa de Tres Mundo, which began in 1987, was founded by an Austrian artist and author and a Nicaraguan poet, priest and politician. It has steadily expanded to include classes in the arts, dance and theater for the children of Granada, an art gallery with rotating exhibits for the public, a free, communal radio station and an arts program to encourage youngsters in the poorer barrios of the city and beyond.

When the competition finally began it was with each of the girls coming down the makeshift runway in sports attire: a tennis outfit with a racket, a cheerleader with pom-poms, a soccer player with ball and so forth. It was a bit un-nerving to see these young girls striking semi-seductive poses during their introductions and sauntering flirtatiously. Following this was a segment with the girls in their colorful, traditional dresses of Nicaragua, which included a short introduction to the judges and a brief Q and A for the academic portion. Interspersed with the program presentations by the eight young contestants were dance numbers by various ensembles; these were highly entertaining.

Finally, the results of the judges were announced. Our contestant, Priscila, came in third. Of course this was not what we had hoped for, but as she was competing with girls from the more affluent, private schools in Granada we were pleased with her showing. As third-place winner she received three gaily decorated bags with packages of sugared confections. The winner of the competition won a chance at a scholarship and was crowned with a tiara and draped with a sash in true Miss America style. She also received a beautifully decorated cake and three flowered bags filled with sugared confections. As Jim, our school’s director drily observed, “Hey, they’re kids. They like candy.”

Priscila with the loot

By Anita and Richard, April, 2014

The ‘Hood: Living In Our Barrio

Posted on April 5, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 18 comments

It starts to get light about 5:00 a.m. and the roosters commence their competition to welcome the new day. Who can crow loudest? Longest? Most Inflections? The birds join in with a songfest and soon we hear the occasional bark of dogs as households begin to stir and take advantage of the cool morning temperatures to get some chores accomplished. A baby wails, a child laughs, a new day begins.

We can go up to the third-floor rooftop terrace and peer over the waist-high railing into our surrounding neighbor’s irregularly shaped dirt yards filled with an outdoor stove for cooking, various shade trees, the occasional mango, and the ubiquitous banana trees. Drying clothes hang from lines and, in a haze of suspended dust, the women sweep the hard dirt backyards clean of leaves and place the debris into a trash pile with other discards to be burned every few days. The funky odor of burning trash and other garbage wafts into our window occasionally.

We are renting a cheerful, airy, one-bedroom apartment, about 500-square feet, at the Vista Mombacho Apartments. We have doormen who monitor the entrance around the clock for security and keep an eye on the neighborhood doings. A small staff makes certain that maintenance problems are promptly fixed, the apartment cleaned twice weekly, the 5-gallon bottles of drinking water replaced as needed and our questions answered as they arise. The laundry facilities are clean and the Wi-Fi, while not blazingly fast, is reliable. And, oh yes, there’s a lovely pool to float around in during the heat of the day and a roof-top patio for get-togethers or star-gazing while relaxing in a hammock.

As for the neighborhood, zoning is a first world concept and “mixed” would most aptly describe the area. The predominant style is colonial with the attached dwellings fronting the walkways and/or road and finished in a stucco facade. Some homes are well-maintained with freshly varnished doors and a gleaming coat of paint. Some are a little shabby and some are in uncared for, dilapidated disrepair interspersed with the occasional empty, trash-strewn lot. Mixed in with the houses are pulperias: small, family run stores in the front of the home specializing in convenience items and groceries, homemade foods and drinks, bicycle or small appliance repair shops, etc. Many mornings we’ll glimpse the neighborhood women here and there busily scrubbing down the walkway in front of their homes or businesses. At various times of the day, groups of men (varying in age but all unemployed) will congregate to visit or pass around a bottle. Occasionally, as you walk a few blocks in any direction, will be some prone, passed-out man sleeping off another day of no work, no hope.

Home security – Stretching concertina wire

La Union

The two grocery stores we shop at, La Union and La Colonia, are about four blocks from our apartment. Every couple of days we grab our canvas bags and set off. The stores are surprisingly westernized with shopping carts, scanner check-outs, and US and Latin American brand names. The familiarity and ease of shopping is reflected in the increased pricing. We attempt to economize by buying some of our fresh fruits and vegetables in the small markets around the city or the mercado but the habit of convenient one-stop shopping dies hard.

Elsewhere in the neighborhood, just a couple blocks down from the grocery store is the office of our physician, Dr. Francisco Martinez Blanco, who speaks fluent English and enjoys a popular reputation in the expat community. In the other direction is the Laboratorio de Diagnostico Clinico Jesus Christo known to expats as “The Baby Jesus Clinic” where you can get your lab work done. Two blocks further on is a husband and wife dentist team, both fluent in English and trained in Argentina, who run a spotless, modern and well-organized office and personally performed our bi-annual cleaning and dental checkups at a fraction of the cost of work in the US.

The Baby Jesus Lab

It’s not hard to find fault in any city if you’re looking but Granada, a beautiful little city, is easy to love and easy to feel at home in. There’s plenty to do and see in the area for those so inclined or there are many places to relax and while away an afternoon. Parting company with the city and continuing our travels at the end of April will be difficult.

By Anita and Richard, April, 2014

Where No Sewer Has Gone Before…

Posted on March 15, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 6 comments

We all know the dull headache that comes when the city announces impending plans for a sewer repair or a road extension project. In advance, we anticipate the congestion caused by the heavy equipment which will crowd the cars to the margins of the streets. The sight of earthmovers plying their trade on our public thoroughfares does not draw a second glance. But that is there, in the States – back home, where energy is abundant and affordable, where mechanical power has for scores of years replaced human power.

For the last two-plus months, during our daily commute, we have watched a major sewer expansion project as the City of Granada extends the sewer lines into the previously ignored and poorer barrios south of the city. Electrical power has recently been provided to the vast majority of the area along with potable water. The sewer, as the most complex of the projects, is the latest improvement. So, if you need to construct a new sewer line and you do not have access to cheap, reliable electricity or heavy equipment, you use the resources that are available to you. You use the labor force to dig the trenches, lay the pipe, install the man-hole connections and complete all the ancillary work that needs to be done.

Now, mechanized power is not totally absent. There are trucks delivering pipe and bedding gravel. There are water trucks providing construction water to the project. There are a few whacker-packers for compaction; there are even a couple of Bob-cat style loaders, presumably to assist with some lifting aspect of the work. But, primarily, the work is conducted with shovels and an enormous effort of physical stamina, brute strength and human power.

Does a project of this scope cause a bit of havoc in the neighborhood? Well, yes. There is no difference there. The major streets are closed or restricted with traffic forced onto the laterals. The number of “close calls” between vehicles and bicycles, scooters, pedestrians and the numerous horse-drawn carts, increases exponentially. Street traffic gets diverted to the unpaved side streets creating hovering dust clouds for the residents. Traffic control, a discipline that has not yet reached its maturity in Granada, is inadequate – signage and traffic flow is a matter of secondary or tertiary importance.

But the work does get done. From our seats in the taxi we click our camera shots and watch as the project unfolds. The route to our school in the Pantanal neighborhood seems to change regularly as portions of the road are released for traffic. There is no major fan-fare about the progress of the work; it simply proceeds, day after day. The only sign, while not announcing Your Tax Dollars at Work, does explain that this new work was made possible with assistance from Germany and Japan.

So, say what you will about the disparity of construction methods between the US and Granada, Nicaragua. There is still a basic and unmistakable commonality – those damn construction guys are forever leaning on their shovels!

By Anita and Richard, March, 2014

VolunTOURISM Versus Volunteering

Posted on March 8, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 24 comments

One of our goals as long-term travelers is to volunteer two or three months at a time while we are in a locale for a longer stay. Before we left the US we researched various countries, organizations and types of volunteer positions available overseas. This led us, a few months later, to the option of joining an international volunteer agency and paying for the volunteer experience. Following that, we discovered the in-country approach: arrive at a destination and start making personal inquiries of the locals and expats to find out what opportunities are available.

What we discovered in the process of our volunteer experiences is that we unwittingly became part of the “voluntourism” boom. Voluntourism, or volunteering as a tourist, is promoted as a way to have an authentic and meaningful cultural experience (a sort of working vacation, if you will) while providing needed benefits to local individuals or communities. It provides nervous travelers to third-world countries with a hand-holding experience: contacts and a safety net with new, built-in friends. However, it’s also an unregulated business sector which attracts huge amounts of money, advertises appealing good-works projects and draws in hoards of people wanting to do their part to improve the world. And all of this is with little or no oversight. It is both a buyer’s and a seller’s market. Almost any volunteer assignment can be found on the internet for a price and the old Latin injunction, caveat emptor, should be kept in mind.

Our first volunteer experience in Antigua, Guatemala was secured through a New Zealand agency with whom we felt relatively comfortable due to their transparent accounting profile. The time volunteering in the Antonio Escobar y Castro School was a phenomenal experience. However, the costs proved to be another matter. The fees ostensibly covered the room-and-board for a home-stay (which proved to be much less than satisfactory), the materials needed for the work at the school (which proved to be woefully inadequate) and the administrative costs of the company (which appeared to be more than generously staffed and housed). In our Antigua sojourn we discovered that the typical volunteer was a younger, predominantly white client who spent two weeks or less in the assignment minus the time for three or four day week-end jaunts to tourist destinations arranged by the local agency.

When we started looking for our second volunteer gig, having gained some insight from our Antigua adventure, (fool me once shame on you, ….) we spoke with a trusted friend who told us about Education Plus Nicaragua and supplied an email address. We contacted them, discussed our qualifications and their needs, met the directors of the NGO and found out they’d be delighted to have certified English teachers. We signed on for a three month commitment and we’ve approached this experience as we would any job paid or not; we come on time prepared to work and do our best to make sure the kids learn. We’ve discovered that there are a myriad of NGO’s worthy of our personal support and we need not pay an intermediary to perform our due diligence or secure our lodging. The current organization is small but growing. It hires – to the extent possible – local, Nicaraguan personnel and is supported by the immediate community. In those respects it has a decent chance of becoming self-sustaining with secured capital funding from abroad.

Does all of this mean that going through an agency to volunteer is a less than worthwhile endeavor? Not necessarily. It can be quite costly. It can be a non-productive or even counter-productive experience when there is a mismatch between the volunteer and the work. And there is some evidence to support the notion that “voluntourism” has become one more commodity in the western world’s list of conspicuous consumption items. But if there is a good fit between the individual and the project and the program is reputable then wonderful experiences can await. But as always, “Let the buyer beware.”

By Anita and Richard, March, 2014

Teaching English And Volunteering In Pantanal

Posted on March 1, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 16 comments

It’s hot in Granada during the dry season and, according to the weather forecasters, it’s going to get even hotter next month. This February the temperature has averaged in the mid-to-upper eighties. In the neighborhood where we volunteer for Education Plus Nicaragua, Pantanal, the temperature seems to be amplified by several degrees. The corrugated tin roof that covers the classroom at the school seems to intensify the heat. When the breeze makes an unexpected appearance it picks up the fine grit from the bare dirt yards and unpaved roads and deposits a fresh layer that sifts across and down over everything.

Few tourists visit Pantanal and taxi drivers are reluctant to drive us to the neighborhood because of the distance from city center, the unpaved roads in much of the barrio and the detours caused by sewer extension construction. Some days, if we don’t have our usual taxi driver, Nestor, we’ll have to ask over and over “Barrio Pantanal, por favor?” before we receive an affirmative response; most simply give a brusque shake of the head as they continue on their way.

We arrive each morning about 11:30 at the home owned by Yanni and her family where the school is currently located. We set up the low tables and chairs which serve double duty as dining tables for those children receiving lunch or dinner and desks for the seventy or so students in one of the four classes. Serving lunch to the youngest of the students is one of our favorite times. The little ones, of pre-school and kindergarten age, line up with their bowls, spoons and glasses that they bring from home and wait patiently. For some, this might be their only meal for the day. Only a few weeks ago, when they first enrolled in the school at the beginning of January, it was a madhouse with children shouting, pushing and shoving to be first in line. Now they wait. They know there will be food for all.

Following hand washing, we take turns with the other volunteers alternating between pouring the reconstituted milk into their glasses and dishing up the day’s offerings which might include rice, beans, soy patties, cabbage slaw salad or fried plantains. The children begin the meal time with a prayer in Spanish, hands steepled together, occasionally peeking out at one another from under their brows. Towards the end of the meal the kids will share the food they don’t want with others and there’s always a stray dog or two from the street winding their way under the tables hopefully waiting for the scraps.

When lunch is over we team up with the newly hired Nicaraguan college student, Johanna, to teach English to three classes daily, every Monday through Thursday from 12:30 to 3:00. We divide the children into small groups to facilitate both learning and control. The materials are a mishmash of donated educational items and home-made flash cards and posters. There is a portable white board at the front of the classroom area for the teacher and students to use. Each weekend we plan out ways to introduce new vocabulary, activities and songs to make the learning fun for all of us.

At the end of the afternoon, we catch a taxi home, sometimes buoyed and smiling by a day that went as we had planned with games and learning proceeding as envisioned. Other days we leave a little disheartened or frustrated by one or another of the classes that was disruptive or uncooperative. We’re enervated by the cacophony that surrounds the little open school room in Pantanal; the children, the barking dogs and the booming loud music and Spanish talk radio from the house next door. We return to our area of town where the temperature seems to be not so intense, the streets are paved and we can walk in our bare feet across the cool, clean tile floors of our apartment.

But when the taxi arrives the next morning at Yanni’s house, there will be a few early arrivals waiting with smiles and eager bright-eyed faces, arms outstretched for a hug and ready to help us haul out the tables and chairs for another day.

Jumping rope – Education Plus at Pantanal, Granada, NIC 2014

By Anita and Richard, March, 2014

Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates: El Museo de Choco

Posted on February 22, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 4 comments

We’ve passed by Granada’s El Museo de Choco, the Museum of Chocolate, many times but on the day that celebrates all things chocolate, Valentine’s Day, we finally stepped in. It was a very hot day so we chose their signature drink, iced chocolate, an amazingly refreshing and satisfying concoction. A few days later we joined a group of five other devotees in a class, “From Bean to Bar” which was designed to teach the rudiments of the making of chocolate.

The class also presented a better understanding of the role of the cacao (pronounced ca COW) tree within the broader context of history. We learned, for example, that the cacao tree was indigenous to the Mayan homeland and that it was grown in most family garden plots. So, unlike the Aztecs who reserved the chocolate exclusively for their royalty, all Mayans, from the nobility to the lowest classes could enjoy the fruits of the cacao tree. The Mayans preferred it as a hot, frothy drink flavored with honey and chili peppers.

The fermented cacao beans, which grow from twenty to sixty per pod, were roasted over a low fire in an ironwood cauldron for roughly fifteen minutes. As the day’s temperature was ninety-plus degrees it was hot and sweaty work to stir the beans over the fire, but with a bit of song and dance by all participants, it played out well.

We then winnowed the beans, cracking the husks, picking out the nut meat and placing the small pile into a basket. Next, we crushed the nibs using a stone mortar and pestle to make the paste necessary to produce the cacao butter for the sweet drink.

Finally, we were ready to create our libations: First, the frothy Mayan drink and then the Aztecan brew, traditionally flavored with honey, vanilla beans and black pepper. The Spanish version, which the conquistadors were quick to expropriate, incorporated sugar milled from imported sugar cane and milk from their transplanted cow herds along with cinnamon and other spices. We finished up our tour by making our individual candy bars; one bar combined the chocolate with honey and chili peppers and the other bar was mixed with honey, almonds and cinnamon. At the end of the class we toasted each other with another glass of iced chocolate drink (no dinner necessary after that!).

The world has moved forward tremendously since the days of the Mayans, Aztecs and Spaniards. Cacao is still grown in Central America and since it is indigenous to the land, tends to have the highest quality and can be produced organically. However, the demand world-wide is simply too great. Vast monoculture plantations are found in Africa, Indonesia and elsewhere to supply the sweet tooth, particularly in the developed world. The upshot is that the sun farms, far removed from the rain forest of Central America, are vast acreages which require herbicides, pesticides and fertilizers and eliminate habitat diversification for animal species and crop diversification for the worker’s economic protection.

Cacao production has, for better or worse, joined the ranks of the commodities of modern world.

By Anita and Richard, February, 2014

The Cafe Of Smiles

Posted on February 15, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 25 comments

Although Nicaragua is the largest nation in Central America, it is the most sparsely populated and second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Hardship is a looming shadow over this country with an estimated 45% of the population living below the poverty line which, needless to say, has a much lower threshold than in the United States or other “first-world” countries. Add high unemployment and under-employment levels for able-bodied citizens and guess what happens to people with disabilities?

There are few services or opportunities for people with disabilities in Nicaragua’s countryside and so Granada, which has a special education school and some educational options and NGO programs, is a gathering place for families with members who are disabled.

Which brings us to el Cafe de las Sonrisas, the Cafe of Smiles. With a little digging we found that it is the first coffee shop in the Americas and the 4^th in the world to be run entirely by people who are deaf and mute. The home of Smiles Coffee is located behind an unassuming entrance on Calle Real Xalteva in a large colonial building with a beautiful interior garden courtyard filled with a variety of plants and a central fountain. Surrounding the courtyard are tables on one side, walls covered with images of the international sign language and an adjacent hammock workshop and showroom. After ordering one’s coffee or a simple Nicaraguan-style meal from the menu and cards, which are designed to assist customers in communicating with the staff, you can wander over to the workshop areas. The numerous large and open-air work stations create a pleasant and interesting waiting experience where one can watch employees weave brilliantly colored hammocks.

The signature quality product, called The Never Ending Hammock, symbolizes the goals of: 1) providing employment for the disabled of Nicaragua and, 2) highlighting an environmental focus on recycling plastic bags, the raw material from which the hammocks are made.

The cafe is the latest addition to the Social Center Tio Antonio and is an inclusive educational and employment center for persons with disabilities. The founder, Hector Ruiz, is a Spanish emigrant who has made his home in Nicaragua following a foray in Costa Rica as a restaurateur. Early in his time in Nicaragua he met a man who was deaf and mute and began to help him by locating a teacher.

Soon he was introduced to several other persons with similar disabilities and his efforts to assist with their education grew until he required a funding source to continue. Aided by a local hotel, he opened a business to teach job skills and employ persons with various disabilities to make and sell beautifully crafted hammocks which has subsequently morphed into Tio Antonio Centro Social. The non-profit business, within the context of a community center, offers support to the hearing and visually impaired population in the areas of education, health care and dignified employment

The goal of Tio Antonio is nearing fruition: building self-sustaining businesses that flourish based upon product excellence and first-rate service. Customers return and bring their friends and recommend the shop to others because of the beauty, quality and value of the hammocks, the tasty fresh fruit drinks, satisfying, typical-style Nicaraguan meals and the whole-bodied flavor of the coffee. In addition to the above, the knowledge that one is supporting a truly worthy endeavor nearly guarantees a smile pasted on the mug of the customers as they leave el Cafe de Sonrisas.

By Anita and Richard, February, 2014

An American Napoleon In Nicaragua: The Little Generalisimo

Posted on February 8, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 3 comments

Never heard of William Walker? Don’t be alarmed: we hadn’t either until we reached Granada. September 15^th might be Independence Day in Nicaragua but September 14^th is considered even more important to Nicaraguans as it celebrates the day that William Walker fled the country.

One of the few original houses in the city not destroyed by William Walker

The United States in the first half of the 19^th century was in the grip Manifest Destiny – the notion that we, as a nation, should spread across the continent and as far north and south as the flag was able to carry our young democracy. That these lands were occupied and governed by other sovereignties was of little importance. The prevailing thought was that it was, after all, the God-given destiny of the United States to control these lands and peoples.

Walker, a man of big dreams but small stature (5’2”), began his filibustering – the old definition meant unauthorized attempts to encourage foreign rebellions versus the new definition of legislative stalling – career in Mexico in 1853. After initial victories by his tiny volunteer army he was routed and skedaddled back to California. In San Francisco he was charged and tried for “conducting an illegal war” but a jury of his peers found him not guilty after a speedy deliberation of eight minutes. The country was ready for citizens with expansionistic ideas!

Nicaragua, like most of Latin America, won its independence from Spain in 1821. Freedom however brought its own strife. The country was divided by two power centers: Leon, the Liberal Party’s power base, and Granada, the Conservative Party’s bastion. A low-level and intermittent civil war between the two power centers continued throughout the 1840’s and 1850’s. In 1855, with the dispute escalating, Leon requested foreign assistance in its ongoing conflict with Granada and who should heed the call but our freebooter and filibuster, William Walker.

With a small force of American and foreign adventurers, Walker landed in Nicaragua and, with the aid of the Liberal’s military forces, advanced on Granada. The conflict ended with Walker’s victory. His next move astounded even his Conservative supporters. In 1856, following a rigged election which Walker orchestrated, he had himself declared President of Nicaragua and presided from 1856-7. He went so far as to call for Nicaragua to be annexed to the United States and recognized as a slave-holding state.

William Walker’s Presidential Palace

All this lethal tomfoolery had the unintended effect of unifying Leon and Granada, the once implacable foes. And Walker’s expansionistic language threatened Nicaragua’s neighbors; Costa Rica, Honduras and El Salvador. Counter attacks were launched, Walker’s forces were defeated and with Granada, his capital, under attack Walker struck his colors and retreated. His spleen was not yet empty. In the wake of the retreat an aide-de-camp ordered the burning of the city. At the outskirts a sign was posted “Here was Granada”.

The battle of San Jacinto – Walker’s resounding defeat had him fleeing for his life

Little remains of the original colonial city of Granada; the Catedral Merced, the Casa Gran Francia and a colonial home near the cathedral. The remainder was destroyed in the conflagration or subsequently lost to renovation and expansion.

La Merced – still standing

And our old friend Walker? He survived and made his way back to the United States. However, not one to admit defeat, he regrouped, refortified and returned to Latin America in 1860 to aid a disgruntled faction of English colonists on the Honduras Bay Island of Roatan. He sailed from the island intent upon attack but was intercepted by the British navy, who deemed him hostile to their interests in the region. The Brits turned him over to the Honduran authorities in Trujillo, Honduras and he was executed by firing squad on September 12, 1860. An inglorious but fitting end for a freebooter, filibuster, and would be king.

By Richard and Anita, February, 2014

Slow Traveling: Putting Down Shallow Roots

Posted on February 1, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 10 comments

We like to travel slowly. When we came back from Big Corn Island to Granada at Christmas we almost felt like we were coming home. True, this was our third trip back in as many months and there was that warm, fuzzy feeling of the familiar. True, it was great to return to a city we knew and nod again at familiar people on the streets. True, it was so much easier to know already which direction to go to find the shops and visit favorite restaurants than to set off on the initial exploration of a new city. And true, it was wonderful to see and talk to friends we had met previously.

Our initial plan in December was to spend Christmas in Granada and, at the beginning of the New Year, make our way through Costa Rica with a visit to the Caribbean side and head to Panama. But… we couldn’t get excited, even as we stared at the map at places that had previously stirred our imagination. We felt kind of fizzless. When we looked at bed-and-breakfast places, hostels and hotels all we could see were the hefty dollar signs attached and we lacked the enthusiasm to dig a little further for places to stay that were more reasonable. Our act of procrastination and deciding to not decide on the next step presented a third option: Why not stay a couple of months in Granada?

And so, we reached out to the expat community. During our previous visits we’d heard that there was a monthly meet and greet of expats who were establishing and reinforcing business contacts but then we learned there was also an informal gathering every Friday in front of the Grill House on Calle Calzado. A few people, foreigners who now lived in Granada, both permanently and for shorter stays, and also people passing through would get together around 5:00.

We almost missed our first meeting. A rainstorm had us waiting in the inner courtyard with no group of expats in sight When we gave up and came outside, though, there were a couple of tables pushed together and a few people sitting at them conversing. We boldly walked up to the table (we never would do this in the US) and asked, “Is this the expat get-together?”. In short order we had new acquaintances, an appointment to see an apartment, a list of places to inquire about volunteer opportunities and an invitation to lunch the next day.

That is one of the beauties of slow travel. Since there is seldom a fixed itinerary there is no reason not to extemporize on the travel agenda. We have great latitude in deciding to extend a stay in places that please us, settle a bit more into a community and explore previously undiscovered places. The only requirement of slow travel is that the roots must, of necessity, be shallow. For at some point we will pack up and be moving on again.

La fiesta – Granada, NIC 2013

By Anita and Richard, January, 2014

Ladrilleria Favilli: Where Italy Meets Nicaragua

Posted on January 25, 2014 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 29 comments

The sign on the building reads Ladrilleria Favilli and the sidewalk in front of the building on Calle Santa Lucia in Granada is a colorful patchwork of tiles in many original and classic designs. We poked our heads in the door to check out the displays of distinctive and traditional patterned tiles and the pretty woman sitting at the desk, Maria, invited us to come in and look around the workspace. While we admired the beautiful tiles she shared the fascinating history of the tile factory and explained and showed us how the tiles were made.

In 1915, leaving war-torn Europe and Italy behind, Mario Favilli, Maria’s great-grandfather, arrived in Granada accompanied by his wife and two children. Mario was an architect and sculptor and, to support himself and his family in his newly adopted country, he brought two hydraulic presses for the making of the tiles which grace the floors of many homes, both old and new, throughout the city.

There are many things that make the Favilli tiles unique. Each tile is handmade: the molds are classic patterns and many were designed by Favilli himself although customers can create their own designs and select the desired colors for a truly one-of-a-kind floor. Favilli’s will then create a template to meet the custom order. The tiles are made out of cement (not clay as we had assumed), are approximately ¾ of an inch thick and weigh almost 8 pounds each. The colored pattern runs halfway through the tile so, needless to say, they’re extremely durable!

We followed Maria into the factory as she gave us an impromptu tour. Sand is brought into the workspace through the courtyard and a worker then sieves it to remove any over-sized pieces of sand, rock or debris. The resulting fine sand is then mixed with water and concrete by hand in buckets and color is added to create a thick, viscous liquid to be used for the design. The liquid is carefully poured into the molds in several different steps as one color after another is added to make the motif. At this point, with the mold halfway filled, moist concrete mixture and then a thin layer of the dry mixture are added. A weight is placed on top of the mold and the whole, heavy load is transferred to the hydraulic press which squeezes out the liquid (about 15 seconds). The template is turned upside down and the resulting tile is carefully removed and placed on its edge in a line with previously made tiles where it will need to dry for at least seven days before it can be laid. The tile must cure for at least three months if it is to be sealed and polished.

The resulting handmade tiles can be arranged in an endless possibility of designs and patterns forming borders and “carpeted” areas on the floor, countertops and bathroom walls throughout one’s home. After all, why limit art to paintings on the wall?

By Richard and Anita, January, 2014

La Bomba: A Not So Silent Night

Posted on December 28, 2013 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 6 comments

Granada took on a new personality for Christmas Eve. Rather than a handful of people sitting on their stoops to chit-chat while taking in the sights and sounds of the city’s night life, the doors and windows of the colonial homes on block after block were open displaying their Christmas decorations and lights for all to see. People congregated in groups, large and small, in front of the homes. Generations of families and friends greeted the strollers with “Feliz Navidad”. Kids vied for space in the streets with the adults to shoot off fireworks or launch the numerous types “bombas”, the explosives and sky rockets. The truly awe-inspiring missiles were those which were constructed locally using dynamite with prima-cord fuses. These brutes were wrapped in brown paper twists, placed into an upright, steel pipe-stand on the street and then lit with a long taper. The wee children, of course, were relegated to the curbs and steps to play with sparklers and ladyfingers.

As we were walking by the home of the Arana family we stopped to admire the multitude of lights and glimpsed a beautifully decorated tree in the back of the living room. The matriarch, Fatima, invited us to come inside to better appreciate their efforts. The home, built in the Spanish colonial style around an interior courtyard, was a lavish display of twinkling lights and ribbon wrapped columns. We were given a tour of the home by one of the daughters and admired each room festively decorated for the season. Later that evening, when we passed by the home again as we were walking to our house, we greeted the patriarch of the family, Emilio, sitting at the entry way overseeing his grandchildren setting off their firecrackers in the street.

The fireworks had been building towards a crescendo all day. In the early part of the day the reports were sporadic and tentative. By mid-afternoon they were reliably steady and increased hourly as the night progressed. It was not a coordinated effort; it was thousands of households independently and simultaneously asserting their right to celebrate in the loudest, most frenetic manner possible. At midnight, the culmination of the evening, the cacophony was majestic. From every side, on all the streets and walkways in the barrio, from over the garden walls fireworks exploded with abandon; the skyline a strobe, pulsating, white glow. The occasional colored skyrocket only accentuated the bright flash of gunpowder with its resounding report. The angels would know that Granada was joyously paying homage to the Christ child.

We awakened on Christmas morning to a neighborhood disturbed only intermittently by the occasional sound of fireworks. When we left our home at mid-morning Christmas day, the city was quiet for Christmas is a day to be with the family. The only evidence of the assault on the senses that had transpired only hours before were the neat piles of paper residue left behind by the street sweepers to be hauled away later that morning. The city, its energy spent, had returned to normalcy.

By Richard and Anita, December, 2013

Granada: Grande Dame Of Nicaragua

Posted on November 9, 2013 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 2 comments

Repairing and refurbishing a building in the city center

Repairing tile and stucco on
a building in the city center

Entering Granada by bus we looked out the windows to see a colonial city with multicolored buildings, clay tiled or tin covered roofs and windows and doors behind distinctive, decorative grillwork. The streets were clean and overall there was a feeling of purposeful energy that seemed to be missing from its tired neighbor, Leon. Granted, unlike Leon, Granada had emerged unscathed (physically, at least) from the devastation caused by the civil war. Another important factor has been the influx of foreign aid which began in 1990 to restore, refurbish and preserve this historic city. The charm of the city draws tourists from all over the world and there is a sizable community of expats who have decided to make Granada their home. In turn, the money from the tourists helps fuel the relative prosperity, in contrast to the rest of the country.

While Granada is a relatively affluent city it still resides in a poor Latino nation; the duality is never far from the surface. The churches and cathedrals, the parks and the city center all wear new paint and stucco and tiles; the restaurants vie for cordobas with varied menus, the horse-drawn cabs stand spit-shined with the horses well-groomed. But wander into the streets in the early morning or walk the barrios away from the city center and the flip side slips through the filter. Here you find the use of human power to push and pull carts, to clean city streets, to construct major buildings. It is the face of the country. It is a reality that underlies much of the beauty and charm through which we travel.

For entertainment, baseball seems to be a popular sport and after a Sunday walk to the shores of Lake Nicaragua we happened upon a ballpark set up with four diamonds for intramural play among city leagues. The games were quite spirited with a crowd, both in the stands and on the adjacent sidewalks, ready to loudly heckle any errors or disputed calls. Pick-up ball games are also regular features on the streets in the city itself as vehicle traffic can be worked around in the interest of a game of work-up or five man sides. Of course, futbol or soccer is common as this is a Latin American nation and soccer fields dot the city barrios and kids block off streets to play the game. On one particular street there is even a basketball hoop cemented into the sidewalk for a pickup game.

And the streets come alive in the evenings when the day’s heat abates following the afternoon rain; there may even be a cooling breeze. People take an evening stroll or sit on their stoops. Many times household chairs will be brought out to the sidewalk for a more comfortable resting place to watch the traffic, exchange a “buenas noches” with neighbors and other passersby and chat amiably with each other. Many times the doors to the homes will be open offering a glimpse into other families and lives. It seems to be such an old-fashioned, pleasant, enjoyable pastime: celebrating a day’s work done, talking to family and participating in a neighborhood ritual.

Afternoon storm clouds gather over La Catedral (Lake Nicaragua in background)

By Richard and Anita, November, 2013

The Man In Black: Sandino Watches Over Managua

Posted on November 2, 2013 by Anita @ No Particular Place To Go 4 comments

The silhouette dominated the sky line as we rounded a corner coming into Managua, Nicaragua, the capital. It was the iconic shadowed contour of Augusto C. Sandino, a Nicaraguan general, revolutionary and leader of the rebellion between 1927 and 1933 against the U.S. military occupation of Nicaragua. He was referred to as a “bandit” by the United States government but his exploits made him a national hero (even to this day) throughout much of Latin America. He was assassinated in 1934 following the withdrawal of American troops . This particular statue was located in the Parque Nacional Historico on the hills overlooking the city and Lake Managua along with Loma de Tiscopa, the notorious prison of torture and murder for rebels and political prisoners used by the Somoza family dictatorship until the 1979 revolution.

An unusual pairing

From the heights of Managua, the yellow sculptured trees can be seen that were dedicated in July, 2013, to commemorate the 59^th birthday of Hugo Chavez, the late Venezuelan President. The imaginative trees were a gift from his ally, President Daniel Ortega (whose name might be familiar to those watching the U.S. news in the 1980’s during the Iran-Contra affair). These rather whimsical structures lining the Avenida Bolivar did not quite mesh with the stern visage of Hugo, especially when mounted on his psychedelic base. Nearer the malecon (walkway along the lake) these trees were paired with the silhouette of Augusto Sandino, but this time in bright yellow.

Sandino, the icon

However, revolutionary zeal was not all that was on display in Managua. We also visited the old and new cathedrals. The old colonial Catedral was destroyed by a massive earthquake in 1972, along with much of the old city center, which killed an estimated 5,000 residents, injured 20,000 and left 250,000 people homeless. It alone of all the ruins remains, adjacent to the Palacio Nacional de Cultura, the national cultural museum. The interior of the church is now empty and unused; a church without a heart in a city without a center.

We also visited the new cathedral, the Catedral Metropolitana, constructed in 1993, which is completely unique when compared to the more traditional, heavily decorated architecture of Latin American cathedrals. The sixty-three cupolas (resembling egg cartons or breasts depending on one’s point of view) signify the country’s sixty-three Catholic cathedrals.

The interior might be described as austere and industrial yet the lighting from the cupolas and the sparse use of paint and decoration makes the interior quietly inviting and respectfully humble.

Our day ended with a tour of the National Cultural Museum. Despite some very interesting displays, the visit got off to a tenuous start when our guide informed us that the fee for taking pictures was an additional $80 Cordobas, on top of the ex-pat fee of $80 Cordobas per person. We declined the fee and politely advised the guide that we would be fine by ourselves. Giovanni, our driver, huddled with the museum guide and returned to explain that there was a misunderstanding: there was no fee for photographs and the guide’s services were required as we were allotted a thirty minute viewing tour of the museum. So, with our docent in place, we took a rather rushed tour of the facility. Despite the uninspiring ending to the day, we were impressed with the beauty and cleanliness of Managua and the overall friendliness of the people that we met.