fear and loathing in nicaragua

~names have been changed~
i went to nicaragua a month ago & it was easily one of the greatest trips i've ever done. due mostly to a series of questionable, to down-right bad, decisions. it started with:

5 am: i arrive at the mexico city airport at for a 7am international flight. i left my surfboards in a storage locker 3 days prior when i arrived in the city.

5:15am: i figure out that i am in the international terminal & my boards are in the domestic terminal, a bus ride away. damitamy.

6am: i've got a 176 year old man with a dolly, toting my boards & luggage for me. he moves at exactly the pace you would think a 176 yr old man would move. somewhere around now, i realize i left my camera in mexico city. that makes the 3rd or 4th camera i've lost this year.  damitamy.

6:57am: i make my plane with literally 7 min to spare, but the plane sits on the runway for another 30 min. my layover for my connection in panama is 38 minutes. repeat: 38 minutes. and now 30 of those minutes are gone. somehow i make the connection & watch my bags make it too. (here is where i'd like to give a shout out to copa airlines, because they deserve it & they didn't charge me for boards or my severely overweight baggage) i arrive in nicaragua to the driver i arranged, omar, who takes me to the ATM, where i get my 1st of 3 armed escorts. at certain places omar wants me to roll up the window & lock the door. we also have to stop & buy me a new camera. the guy at the camera store tells me not to take photos walking down the street. someone will jack my camera. i can't tell if nicaragua is that dangerous, or my blonde hair & blue eyes stick out like a turd in a punch-bowl, or they're overly protective of me. whichever it is, its entertaining.

3 very sweaty hours later i arrive at my destination, the northern end of the country. middle of nowhere. there's no real town or people around. its gorgeous & green. i am in love immediately.

i meet the only other guys that are staying there as they sit around divy'ing up prescription drugs over dinner. i wake up to good, fun surf. and here's where things get interesting. the guys (american); jake, tom, lippy, & weasel have 3 nicaraguan kids (ages 13-18) with them because lippy & weasel live down in the south of nicaragua & brought the whole crew up to surf. but, alas, they are heading back down. i'm bummed they're leaving because they're good entertainment, so they invite me with them. YESSSSSSSS! now there are 8 of us, luggage, & probably15 surfboards in/on an SUV. an SUV that got washed down a river the week before & now it's having a few issues.

so we buy beer & get our road trip on. the highway in nicaragua is kind of like a video game. its one lane each direction & NO shoulder. there are cars, 18 wheelers, old US school buses, tractors, horse drawn carts, & bicycles (with never less than 2 people on them) all sharing the road. there's a check point every 50 meters, it seems. we blaze thru the 1st check point. weasel is yelling at lippy because we have to stop at the check points. have to! lippy is yelling back "i can't stop!! i don't have a valid license!" solution: chinese fire drill before each check point & someone in the car with a license gets us thru the checks. we buy more beer. even lippy tells us to roll up the windows & lock the doors, and i have discerned that he is crazy & not scared of much. we go to western union. lippy has to pick up some money. western union has an armed guard who lets lippy in then shuts a big gate behind him, guards it, & makes sure lippy gets back in the car with all of his money. we stop at a pharmacy so the boys can restock their pills. onward. check point. we stop & everybody gets out as per orders of the guys with guns. purpose of the check points: to extort money. done. onward. jake says to me "oh, you should probably know that we have a gun in here." sweet. we buy more beer. someone asks a question, tom answers with "when i was in prison..." my only question: "what's the craziest thing you saw somebody stick up their ass?" answer: "a pack of cigarettes" we stop to get gas. a little kid (10'ish) steals all of lippy's western union money out of the car while we sit there & don't notice. he was a stealth little shit head. onward. weasel is telling the story where he fucked the hooker for free. she didn't charge him. he's very proud of this.  enter lippy to clear it all up. lippy paid the hooker for weasel. i watched weasel wilt before my very eyes. damn hooker, she broke his heart.


quick re-cap. i just met these guys. there are 8 of us crammed into the SUV. i am now somewhere in nicaragua with them. they're the only people who know where i am. everyone (except the kids) is drunk. of the drunk ones, i am the only one that hasn't enhanced the buzz with pills. about half of us have a license that we have to stop & show, often, to guys with guns. we have a gun. at least one guy has been in prison.

8 hours later, we turn onto a dirt road . we drive thru about 4 rivers & i get dropped off at the end of this dirt road, at 11pm, safe & sound, aside from the pain of laughing so hard it felt like i'd been having a seizure for 8 straight hours.

after a week of fun, empty surf & making new friends (americans, canadians) that seem to either not quite fit in with society as we think it should be or possibly can't return for colorful reasons,  i have scored a ride half way back to where i came from. in a land of horse drawn carts & insane death-wishing bus drivers, this is a blessing. i jump in the truck with my 3 new, nicaraguan friends, julio, ana, & isabel. as we near town, i am again instructed to roll up the windows & lock the doors. another check point, but this time julio pulls out an ID i haven't seen before. no one else has to show ID (strange), we don't have to get out of the car (weird), we don't pay, & we are waved thru with urgency. WTF??? i am traveling with the right people. 2nd stop at the ATM. 2nd armed escort. its broad daylight. there are several other people there surviving with no escort. turd in a punch bowl. we get to managua & ana has arranged for her friend to pick me up & take me the next 3 hrs of the adventure. i walk out to his car & his license plate makes it apparent that he is member of central american parliment. sweet. now we don't even have to stop at check points. he's arranged someone to take me the last hour from his house to where 90% of what i own in this world was, but its 10pm. its dark. there is no guarantee i can find the place down a dirt road, even then there is no guarantee i can get onto the secure property if i manage to find it. its better if i sleep at his house (questionable or down right bad decision?). i wake up at 5:30 am to one very angry guard dog who i did not meet the night before. shit! the maid saves me. i walk outside to the armed guard who i did not meet the night before. double shit! oh wait, turd in a punch bowl. that's why he's staring. he's sure i'm not there to kidnap or kill anyone. there's my ride. guy in a truck takes me an hour to my final destination. i get another week of fun, empty surf.

and there's omar to take me back to airport. roll up the windows & lock the doors. i finally ask why. because guys on motorbikes & foot sometimes race by & snatch things out of the cars that are trapped in slow traffic. omar also tells me that taxis are a bad idea because sometimes the drivers rob you (i could be looking at kidnapping &/or rape...turd/punch bowl) & leave you. i learned from isabel that lots of people are killed on the mini-buses because the drivers are nuts. 3rd ATM stop. 3rd armed guard. thanks guys.

transportation recap: don't take a taxi. don't ride the bus.

all of the sudden i realize i've made the best decisions and had one of the greatest times of my life. nicaragua, i love you.