Last sunday we left El Tigre and went for León – the first capitol of Nicaragua. A guide said on the first day: “In León we are very close to God because of all the churches (one church every block!!), but at the same time the heat makes us feel we re in Hell!” And sure, here is so. Extrordinarily. HOT!!! Taking a shower three times a day is far from enough to keep you cooled. We are almost spending more money on cold water than on food because the water heats up so fast! But well, except for that León is a nice and very interesting town.
The beginning was very tough, though. We left El Tigre at 7 o’clock in the morning with the bus down to Pradera. My mother was crying. Chumbo was crying. Yarelis was crying. My dad had been drinking the whole day before because he was so sad of letting me go. I was crying. My mother went with me in the bus to Pradera, along with family members of all the other families in order to give us a decent farewell. The usual bus had broken down the day before, so we overloaded a smaller truck instead with family members, huge bagpacks and crying Danes. Half way down we heard a “Pfoouitt!! Pfoouiii__pfooouiiiiiiiii__pfoooouiiiiiiiiii__pssht..” and realised that one of the right tires had broken. We got out of the bus, Anne slightly paniking realising that we wouldn´t make the bus from Pradera to Jinotega, and all of us waiting for the problem to get solved somehow. Rescue came, and 20 minutes later we climbed aboard another even more truck-like bus, no seats this time and the bottom filled with saw-dust, and went all the way to the next stop on the journey. In Pradera we sat down and waited for the next bus to come, having missed the first one. The bus came, and once again tears were flooding. After 10 hours of sighing, sweating and sleeping we finally made it to León.
And wow…! Try to imagine the pìcture: we hadm just left the village in the mountains were we had been almost non-stop the past six weeks, seeing no other cheles than ourselves, living a life back to basics and ¡¡BOOOM!! there we are, sitting foot in a hostal filled with only white mojito-drunk people, to the sound of heavy music, white skin flashing from every side.