Saturday May 7th /Sunday May 8th

The next morning I still felt sick so I stayed at the hostel and read while the others went and hiked up another volcano and saw a torture chamber for political prisoners. When they got back, we got lunch and then did some souvenir shopping in the handicraft markets in the city. I just got a decorative plate to give to my parents to hang in the kitchen where they display items from our travels. I saw a little boy with what I assume was elephantitis- his head was four times the size it should have been and his mother was holding him in her lap and supporting his head. It was terrifying and sickening and horribly depressing to see…There were also lots of children running around who belonged to the people who worked at the market. One boy was making different things out of long reeds of grass with quick, nimble fingers. He gave Destiny and I these beautiful detailed hearts intertwined with sculpted flowers. By this time, we literally had enough money to pay for the bus to get to the airport so we couldn’t pay him but we gave him some mango and a hug and he didn’t seem to begrudge us the cash. He seemed to be enjoying himself, just giving out the stuff he made. Later on he gave Jeff a cricket he made and Jeff gave him some money so I felt a little better.

Once everyone had their purchases, we got on a bus to Managua. We got to the bus station after dark and it was the only time I actually felt unsafe because even the Managuans will tell you what a dump the city is and to get in and out as quickly as possible. We were looking for the bus to the airport and even though it didn’t take us more than two minutes, in that time three guys tailed us. I didn’t see because I was walking really quickly behind Jeff but Carolanne and Matt were trailing behind. Apparently a woman was motioning to them and they mistook her for begging when she was trying to warn them about being pickpocketed. Carolanne is diabetic and was wearing her insulin pump and they must have mistaken it for a camera or some other expensive technology because they took it and ran. She was really upset because it was an $8,000 device. Luckily it was the last day and she had a loaner with her for traveling, but it was still really unfortunate. The bus took us to the airport and I had a semi-decent conversation with the man sitting next to me in Spanish. By semi-decent, I mean I used about fifteen words in Spanish, understood nothing that he said, and did a lot of nodding and smiling.

Then we were at the airport and found Rachel sitting at a table at a restaurant looking dirty, exhausted, and very dazed. She could barely talk when we found her and she just sputtered about how happy she was to see us. Mike walked over a little later from the corner where he had been napping and we found out that after we had split up to get back to Nicaragua from Costa Rica, they had had a really hard time hitch hiking back and had been accidentally taken to the middle of nowhere to a pineapple packing plant. They ended up spending the night in the same hotel we had all stayed at together. The next day they made it to Playa Madera and stayed there for the rest of the trip. I couldn’t help but feel satisfied that we had done so much more than the “adventurers” who left us so many times because we weren’t going their pace. Fake instance of karma, to be sure. We boarded the plane, flew home, said our goodbyes, and my dad drove Destiny and I home. Words can’t describe how anxious I was for that plane to touch the ground so I could get home and shower and drink gallons of water and bask in the air conditioning.

Things I learned from the trip:
-I would be the first to die in a disaster situation. Like, I would be the first to give up and lay down rather than try to walk to safety. Or I would be the first to drink the salt water and choose hallucinations rather than reality.
-I don’t want to study abroad in Africa anymore I don’t think. I was considering it for a while, and I still want to make it out there, but not in the romantically simplistic and wild way I was picturing before. I realized it’s not particularly romantic doing the things I had to do and even though I proved I’m strong enough to do it, there were too many instances when I was unnecessarily unhappy for me to want to go traipsing through the African jungle.
-Momento mori. You’re just constantly reminded of your mortality when you can feel your body screaming at you to stop or you have to constantly search for clean water.
-You can’t really escape your humanity. One of the reasons I went on the trip was so I could appreciate all I have and have a better idea of how people in other parts of the world live. I definitely think I did that, but the problem is it can never really stay with you, that appreciation. You might think of it every now and then, but for the most part, once you’re home you slip back into your old expectations and forget about what you saw. I was shocked by how quickly this happened once I got home. I was marveling at all of the possibilities my kitchen held and then when I went to take a shower and found my shampoo was gone, I was livid. Then I remembered I spent a whole week without shampoo, and that most people don’t even have shampoo, and couldn’t help but laugh at myself because no matter what you do, you can never be 100% compassionate. It would drive you insane, feeling bad for everyone all the time.
-The little things truly are what matters. It was really amazing, being forced to take the time to marvel at a sunrise or to gaze at the stars. Gulping down water after a vigorous hike- even finding a hike to be therapeutic. Laughing with friends, appreciating the kindness of strangers, feeling the thrill of not having a plan or knowing where your next ride or meal would come from. That is the spirit of adventure.