More feelings than travel stories, skip ahead for real Managua news.

Here I am back in Managua and with a computer and internet access all to myself for as long as I want tonight, and for free. Being on a computer is so different when A) you are paying for it B) you are surround by people C) people think nothing of coming over to see what is on the screen in front of you. Now I am relaxed, I have my cup of cold calala juice next to me and have plenty of time to wander around the web. This is actually kind of making blogging more difficult, I do just about everything at the last possible minute and the time pressure of internet cafes may be optimal conditions for good blogging, but here it goes...

Yesterday I exchanged hugs and kisses with my friends at CEDEHCA before taking a taxi to the airport. I was sad to be leaving so soon and was a little on the grumpy side. So I had much less patience for my airport experience. First, while I was simultaneously being hit on by the taxi driver and trying to pay him, a man opened the passenger door to pick up my bag and carry it 20 steps over to the front desk. I hate that, I really hate that. He got enough of a headstart that I couldn´t stop him and he had my bag long before I was out of the car. It´s MY bag, I can carry it just fine and I certainly don´t want to pay anyone to carry it for me. But I did. So I got my boarding pass, something I do like about this tiny airport is they have reusable boarding passes, basically a large rectangle of plastic that says your destination and airline. What I don´t like is that they nearly sent my bag to Corn Island. Then the TSA where I felt they searched my little backpack out of pure boredom. The woman said, we are going to search your bag and paused in such a way that I think they were leaving me plenty of room to slip them some money to avoid the hassle. I smiled and told her to go ahead and take her time. What did I have to lose? A dozen or so safety pins apparently. Oh well, I still have the rest of my life-time supply pinned in various locations and I have no idea how safety pins made it onto the list of dangerous items. Clearly it was the littlest things that were getting to me, so when my one and only Pilot Precise V5 pen exploded from the pressure change in the plane I started laughing. I had spent the last couple days distressing off and on about how my pen was running low on ink and I only brought one Pilot Precise V5, which has been THE ULTIMATE PEN brand and model for me since my sophomore year in highschool when Molly and I first began making our dream travel adventure composition books. I was aware of the danger I was putting my pen through, both Rebecca and I had our V5´s explode on the way to Arizona, I am rambling. Suffice to say that these little irritations were part of something looming in the back of my mind.

Both the latter part of yesterday and part of today I was suffering from a bout of traveler´s remorse, something I thought my good time in Bluefields would make me immune to, but unfortunately did not. On top of being sad about leaving, a very evil little voice in my head kept on prodding at the need to see everything, do everything, and spend less. This sort of mentality creates a lose-lose situation, and fortunately today I found a remedy for it thanks to a suprise from my parents. I knew they were sending a package to me, but I didn´t know it´s contents or the impact it would have on me. The package included: raffia and yarn for the cedar hearts I am making as gifts, pictures from the summer (my parents, anthony, stampede parade, dad´s artwork), two different types of bug spray, a cute old spanish phrasebook, an article on Ometepe from the Seattle Times, a purple pencil top eraser, a gluestick, two little wooden fish carved and woodburned by my father, a bag of dried camas (something I greatly miss), peanut butter cups (THE candy I have been missing, although not usually my favorite, way to go psychic parents), and two lovely notes. Tears came to my eyes as I went through the pictures and the rest of the package, but I needed to set these things aside for the time being and go to see the Universidad Americana. Later, when I was back at the home I am staying at I was tempted to eat the peanut butter cups right away.

Instead, while I was writing in my journal I decided (journal excerpt) "No, I´ll wait. I will make this a into a sort of celebration or maybe more of a ceremony. I will go sit on my bed, listen to ¨waltzing with jesus¨ (A instrumental song from a CD that my mom played her upright bass on) on my ipod and put all of my photos in my photobook. I will think of mom and dad and let go of any of my doubts about what I have done in my travels or what I am going to do." This is something that, now that I think about it, is common in my family. Making small events into more significant ones. The idea was also semi-inspired by part of a story my mom told me where she was instructed to really savor a chocolate candy in a meditation class.

My journal entry afterwards:

¨I don´t think mom and dad knew how much the chocolate and everything would mean to me. They probably didn´t know I would be eating the chocolate with a spoon either. I sat on my bed, with the combined breezes from the air conditioner and the open door calming me and boosting that ´oceanic´ feeling (freud reference, had very strange reading material in Bluefields). I put on my headphones, made a pile with the pictures and played waltzing with jesus. From the first sound of my mom pulling that low note on her bass, my eyes began to water. I rearranged all of the pictures, and placed dad´s letter adjacent to my picture of aunt Jeanette. All of the pictures are in the perfect order now and I have a feeling of completeness, contentment... -I am never alone. In my mind I called mom and dad to me, asked them to think of me at that same moment. I have their prayers and hopes and we are in eachothers dreams. I chose select pictures of mom and dad to look at as I opened the candy wrapper. The contents were clearly melted, so I grabbed my spoon and remembered the day we bought it a rei, a family shopping trip. I looked at the pictures as I savored small spoonfuls... -and the chocolate was better than chocolate, because it was more than chocolate, those moments were my nourishment. Now I am very happy, bubbling with joy and feeling. Why mope about not getting to do this or that, it´s the people that matter. The article mom and dad sent me is a good reminder, the last line was ´But, as with all the best trips, it really was the people that made the place´.¨

With my new energy I visited with both Marlina and Blanco Lucia, the mother daughter duo that takes care of the house that I am staying at. I came out of my room and Blanco was drawing a picture from a comic (making fun of pilgrims - which makes more sense now that Margo has informed me that thursday is Thanksgiving day) and I was excited to see that she likes to draw. Her pencil had no eraser left on it and so I went to get the pencil top eraser mom sent me. Coincidence that I had no idea why my mom sent the eraser? I did some watercolor painting in my journal at the desk next to her, she speaks a little english, she is 15 and learning it in school, and I speak a little spanish so we can communicate pretty well. I spent time with Marlina as well. She gave me a glass of my favorite Calala juice and understood what I was saying when I told her that in Hawaii Calala is called Lilikoi. She laughed.

I was excited and ready to make the most out of any experience here in Managua. I think I´ll end this very long and emotional blog to move on to Managua news.

I am sure I will have many more moments like the ones described in this blog, but I don´t know if I will record them here very often. Hope you enjoyed a peek into my journal and some idea of how truly, in the words of my grandfather, ¨Mushy¨ I can be.