Leon... a City of Culture... a Cacophony of Sound

Elisa and I arrived in Leon after a brief stop over in Managua to hop on a collectivo bus to the colonial city. We did have an exciting ride from San Juan del Sur including lots of attention from men and one in particular that asked me to dance in the aisles while showing me his own special dance of the Atlantic coast, um yes, that is lovely, you sure can shake that thang, could you please keep you sweat from dripping on me, and no I would not like to dance in the aisles. After arriving we walked around and visited many of the murals the city is famous for including the Sandanistan man standing on a grey Uncle Sam and a snake coming out of a box trying to get to the ballot box, the snake has CIA painted on it. I have a feeling we meddled in things a bit here. Anyway, we ended up going to sleep rather early because we were so tired from traveling and staying out late on our last night with Norm, Jeremy (Colorado), Aviv (Fez), and Katrine (Germany). To my surprise they started ringing the church bells at 6 AM oh yes, everyone rise and shine it is time to get to church, but wait that´s not all... then start in the bombas, explosions and bells all at the same time... should we run for cover or head to church. Maybe this is all occurring because we are refusing to get out of bed and join the throngs of people streaming into the churches. Now add in the bird squawking, the bird was from our hospedeja, he was in a cage. I have named him Larry and Larry does not like bombs or bells, in fact he protests the bombs and bells by joining in at the top of his lungs. So I am now awake, time to find breakfast. For a little bit of back ground information let me first tell you that in 3 days I have spilt 4 glasses of liquids. Water twice, beer once and wine once. I spilt wine on my white skirt and Jeremy, I spilt a full beer in my lap right after I poured it while reaching for the limes... the water was truly of no consequence. So we head for breakfast where spill number 3 will soon occur. Ummmm, breakfast gallo pinto and eggs. In all honesty I am craving the refried beans of Guatemala (which we will later find at a french cafe on the square) not whole beans and rice mixed together. So I pick at my food and we decide to head to the market to buy some avocados and make guacamole for our next meal or snack which ever comes first. While walking through the market we come to a beauty shop, one chair one woman (pictures to come later) and I decide I am tired of the curly/frizzy mop I refer to as hair and that I am going to have it straightened... hmmmm, why is she using a crimping iron on my hair? Patricia, with the skinny, skinny eyebrows and her diploma from beauty school on the wall, then talks us into pedicures and an hour later I walk out with psudo-straight hair and a NICA-French pedicure and Elisa with hot pink toes (a color selected by Patricia´s husband who she has been married to for 11 years even though she is only 27)and a white flower painted on each big toe. We are laughing somewhat uncontrolably and walking down the road trying to figure out whose feet they have attached to our ankles and decide it is time for guacamole. So the night ends with a stand at Via Via, only the hippest supertraveler hostal in town, a couple of caparhinias and a guy from the Dominicann Republic that is hitting on Elisa. He then calls over his friend Ceasar who is wearing a guerilla style cap, a la Che Guevarra, not to be confused with the berret he also doned from time to time, I take this to be a consolation prize for me, Hi Ceasar, no thank you I am not interested in company this evening...I think it is time to go home... So off we go in the cab, laughing and still trying to figure out whose feet are attached to our ankles.

PS the air raid sirens just went off again, marking the noon hour... gotta go to the beach, Poneloya about a 20 minute bus ride away. Should be nice, our last day in Nicaragua we are heading back to Guate tomorrow... until then Abrazos por todos.