25 June 2012
8:20pm - Casa del Agua Hostel, Granada, Nicaragua
I would now like to state, as a disclaimer, that I am no expert on Nicaraguan culture. I will only be here a week (we're still struggling with why we thought such a short period of time was a good idea). Therefore, take very little of what I say as fact. Know that these thoughts are merely the observations of a girl trying to connect with a very large world. There is little doubt in my mind that I will say stupid, inaccurate things. I have a nasty tendency to do this. This is by no means a factual representation of the Nica people, their culture, or heritage. This is only my perspective, my experience, and we all know how much those can differ based on individuals. It is also important to consider that I will be perceiving everything through the lens of someone raised in a fairly privileged situation in a fairly privileged culture. This taints everything and denying it is pointless.
8:20pm - Casa del Agua Hostel, Granada, Nicaragua
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| View of Granada from the top of La Mercede Iglesia. The large yellow building is the Catedral de Granada & the blue behind that is Lake Nicaragua. |
I am absolutely glorifying in the fact that I'm in a foreign country, in a completely different culture right now. It's like all the stress and madness of this year was actually worth it. How can I ever be content in one place again?
I wasn't expecting this place to remind me so much of India, but it does, powerfully so. On the 40 minute drive from the airport in Managua to Granada in the taxi sent for us by the hostel, I was struck by how many similarities there were between Managua, Masaya, and Granada and what I experienced in India. Most strongly, the smell in the air: sometimes unpleasant, (like urine, animal feces, diesel/exhaust, or garbage), but sometimes not (like burning leaves, meals being prepared, or flowers). The arrangement of the streets, as well of the overall trend in billboard advertisement styles. The discord between lush green trees and the garbage strewn along the side of the road and in creeks. The insouciance with which pedestrians crossed the street, often right in the path of a speeding bus. The fearless driving styles, the occasional honk of the horn or high-beaming to let another car know you were going to pass them. The kids in uniforms walking home from school and waiting to catch a bus. The truck of mattresses we were stuck behind at one point - one mattress in particular reminded me of my mattress from Agartala. The tin-roofed shops by the side of the row, brightly colored with their display of wares. Movistar (a cellphone service). The sickly green colored sheets provided to us at the hostel (they bore a strong similarity to sheets used at the Holy Cross Centers we'd visited). I'm fairly certain I could continue with this litany, but I'll try to restrain myself.
I would now like to state, as a disclaimer, that I am no expert on Nicaraguan culture. I will only be here a week (we're still struggling with why we thought such a short period of time was a good idea). Therefore, take very little of what I say as fact. Know that these thoughts are merely the observations of a girl trying to connect with a very large world. There is little doubt in my mind that I will say stupid, inaccurate things. I have a nasty tendency to do this. This is by no means a factual representation of the Nica people, their culture, or heritage. This is only my perspective, my experience, and we all know how much those can differ based on individuals. It is also important to consider that I will be perceiving everything through the lens of someone raised in a fairly privileged situation in a fairly privileged culture. This taints everything and denying it is pointless.
That being said, here goes nothing...
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