Another campamento

Yesterday I went camping once again with a group of 13 other friends. We headed to the same finca we went to last time, but to a different campsite. The river was right near by and around 11pm after dinner and the campiste was all set up, a few of us went to test out the water.
Cold, refreshing water.
moonlit sky.
laughter.
reminders we are alive.

This morning, we went to a favorite watering spot of mine. Last time, i jumped off the cliff into the water and was petrified to do so. This time, I jumped off a higher spot. Fear swirled deep within me as I looked down (I honestly have no idea how high it was, I just know that after I did it, even some of my honduran adventurous friends were saying I was loca). I kept looking at the spot and thinking, "Oh my god!" over and over again. But I couldn't just keep standing there. If there is one thing I hate, it is wasting time. I was doing just that. Either jump or walk around. It takes less energy to just jump. I was absolutely frightened, but once it was over, I was so excited that I did it. I'm sure I'll be back at that spot sometime soon, and I'll take a picture and post it.

The picture here is of the bridge we crossed to get to our campsite. Word is, there's a camping trip in three weeks with a 9 hour hike to the spot, the highest mountain in Sigua, and a 9 hour return. Rumor has it, I might be going...if only I can get this body in better shape.

painting rocks and nasty tanks

My dad once said that the chicken busses in Nicaragua first start out as school busses in the U.S., then once we’re done with them, we ship them to Mexico. Once the Mexicans get all the use out of them they can, they send them to Nicaragua. This might be a common theme in Nicaragua, for I found the same pattern true with Bill’s tank tops: nasty.

The trip was very chill, we did a lot of nothing; although we did catch a few glimpses of the Villacruz parade, complete with large figures of dead Jesus, live Jesus, and Mary. Then I went to Managua on Saturday to catch the bus on Sunday. I saw the movie The Last King of Scotland, which might appear in another blog soon. Around 4pm I arrived in Sigua, crashed and woke up the next morning.
This is a picture of David, my david, who I’ve been teaching English three times a week. He doesn’t come from a very rich family; but as I walk around downtown with him, I realize all children and adults are the same. “Can you buy me this?” “How about this?” he asks his uncle, who is a friend of mine. “No perro.”

Last week, we painted rocks together and went to see his cousin’s soccer game. He’s my new buddy, and he learns English very quickly. I have the idea in my head of sending him to a bilingual school. There is one right around the corner from his house. His desire to learn English is phenomenal, and I imagine he would do really well in smaller class sizes. So I’m proposing the idea to you all. If anyone would be interested in adopting him, that is, paying for his bilingual school education, please let me know. I know this is a huge commitment. I wouldn’t want it to just be one year and then he’d have to return to public school. So think about it long and hard, and email me if you are interested and we can talk details.

There’s some new pictures of jewelry-making fun, the trip to Nicaragua, and life in Sigua at my flickr.com sight. Be blessed!