What they have today

Title inspired by what becomes a fact of life to those traveling in countries like these: just because something is on the menu, or written on the board, doesn't mean it is actually available. No hay, as they say. Like the mojito I just wanted. Instead I have a strong Cuba Libre (don't worry, I have actually been a practical teetotaller down here; am not drinking away my travel funds). I have become so used to the no-hay idea that I have started asking for things in a very hopeful/skeptical tone of voice and getting really excited when I find they have them.

Where did I last leave you? In Jinotega, that's right; that place out on the edge. It got a bit crazy there. The power cut out soon after I finished writing, so I went and hid in my very dark wooden box for a while and felt odd. It was very cold that night and the wind was loud. I had a scary dream about ghosts. It was that kind of town. In the morning, I left. I went to Matagalpa, a place only slightly more on the tourist trail. The views on the bus journey were as pretty as the guidebook promised. Lots of hills, I remember, and little fincas (farms) and people selling flowers. Matagalpa itself is not particularly beautiful. I had a feeling when I got off the bus that I've yet to shake; a feeling of traveling from ugly dirty town to ugly dirty town, and missing the clean wholesomeness of home. However.

There was both a teething puppy and a kitten in my cheap hotel, and a six year old girl who found my lack of Spanish (and everything else) hilarious. I was a bit upset because I fould the puppy trying to teeth on the kitten. I briefly considered trying to take the kitten with me in my backpack. I would give it a cool name and we would be best friends and become famous, and I would be in the newspaper when the kitten died. I was pondering the practicality of carrying an animal in a backpack on public transport across borders when the kitten asked to be let out of my room, where I was sheltering her. She walked away and I felt rejected. A dream died that day.

The first exciting thing that I did in Matagalpa was find real food. I had heard mysterious tales of lunchtime buffets in Nicaragua. Food so far has been disappointing. Yes, if I ate meat I would have more variety, but that wouldn't change the quality (the meat here looks sketchy as hell). Life has involved a lot of eggs, beans and tortillas; one might say too much. Honduras I remember being particularly bad. I had these strong longings for the food in California, particularly as can be found on the table of Marianne and Ron; food with life, with health, with taste and vitamins. Instead I found eggs, beans and tortillas. And queso fresco, which I believe you can get in the States, but which has not thankfully found its way to New Zealand. It's crumbly white cheese, very salty and pungent. I have developed a hatred for it that I feel for no other food (I like to say that I'll eat anything that isn't meat). Unfortunately it isn't easy to get away from. I remember having the worst meal ever in Honduras. I'd just spent a rainy bus journey dreaming of macaroni cheese, homemade, with crisp broccoli and green beans in pesto. I went for lunch, kind of late (food here is difficult to find outside of meal times: 11.00-1.30 for lunch and 5.30-7.00 for dinner). The kind people at the restaurant looked very perplexed when I asked for something without meat and then produced a special dish, which unfortunately was really horrible. Dry dry plantains with yukka (a kind of tasteless root) and cabbage, a odd kind of tomato sauce, and the dreaded queso fresco. It was a low point in my life.

To return, however, to Matagalpa (the Cuba Libre is making my mind wander). I found a buffet there. I had lunch. It was $2US. It was tasty. It had vegetables. It had BROCCOLI and GREEN BEANS. I nearly cried with joy. Nicaragua is officially the bestest country from now on.

The other exciting thing that happened in Matagalpa was that I went on a walk. It was up in the hills, and it was hard to start, but that was OK. It was beautiful, and out in the middle of nowhere. There were lots of brown trees and little houses, and I saw some coffee bushes (I can report that they are short with red berries). It felt very special. I had a very good time. Then I unfortunately got lost (I should have been warned when my photocopied directions turned into a series of things like "Cross this barbed wire fence and you will see a tree; go slightly left, climb another wire barbed fence, there will be a small path, etc."). I ended up in a steep field with rocks and some tall yellow grass, it was very hot. I picked up a stick to fight off any prospective snakes and eventually fought my way out, and found myself at a house. After being laughed at by young boys (I'm getting used to this) and barked at by dogs, a man pointed and gave me instructions in Spanish that I could not understand. I wondered how often crazed-looking white girls carrying sticks ended up in his backyard. Thankfully the small path I took became a road, which lead me back to the city. Just in time for a buffet lunch.

I am now in Granada. Granada is very beautiful. All the buildings are colonial in style and painted bright colours, and every street is spectacular. It is also, however, quite touristy and feels artificial after being in the north. How odd after towns like Jinotega, where you couldn't find an English menu if you tried, to be able to play beer pong. Unfortunately my buffets have disappeared; there seem to be no local restaurants here that I can find. Sigh. Oh well. Tomorrow I will go to a small village closer to Managua. Maybe they will have one for me.