Last blog in English, to finish the travel stories 🙂
(reading time: 2,5 minutes)
The sound of the waves, every day. First surrounded by sweet water, later surrounded by the sea water.
Being in the water, every day, first in the sweet lake, then in the salty water.
Waking up with the sunrise, the wind, the birds, the roosters, la naturaleza.
The kindness of the people; warm and welcoming.
The daily pace, tranquila.
The language, talking Spanish every day with the locals; lo voy a extrañar mucho!
I keep on being surprised by this country. Nothing ever goes as expected, so it’s better to never have any expectations.
My flight going back to Managua (from Corn Island to the capital city) was again with this tiny airplane for 12 people. But there were many other people waiting at the airport as well and there was also a normal size passenger plane with the same route and destination. So who knows how they’re going to do this? They started calling out names for boarding, including my name. Somehow these were the passengers for the small plane, which in the end, wasn’t even full. So all the other people went with the normal passenger plane. We took off, very quickly, without any further notice (in such a small plane there’s no such thing as a safety notice or any check if everyone is buckled up and good to go), and we made a super quick in between stop in Bluefields. We weren’t informed about this stop and once we arrived in Bluefields some people got out and we just stayed put in the plane, waiting. They got the luggage out, the pilots left, went to do something and came back 10 minutes later, boarded very quickly, turned the tiny plane around and took off again, with only 3 of us still in the plane. It was as if we were sitting in a bus, waiting at a bus station (the ‘parking lot’ of the runway) for a few minutes and then suddenly turned around to leave again. I wish all my flights were that quick and easy.
So on my way here last week I had some stuff in my hand luggage that wasn’t allowed. My backpack was already checked in and gone (‘gone’ in this case means it has been put outside the office, on the other side of the wall; the national part of the airport consists of only 2 small spaces: check in and waiting area). I went with my stuff to the lady at the check-in counter and we went to find my checked in backpack, to put my stuff in there. Most of the checked in luggage was sitting right outside the building waiting to be boarded on the plane. Unfortunately, mine wasn’t there anymore; my backpack had already been boarded. So the lady decided to keep my stuff at the airport with a label on it. I can pick it up again when I come back in a week. There’s a possibility that it won’t be there anymore when I get back. But because everything is unorganized and because there are little rules and ways to bend the rules, there’s also a big chance that no one looks after it, my stuff will just sit there and will still be sitting there when I come back. And if I wouldn’t claim it, it might even be sitting there for months without someone asking questions about it.
During this process I went at least 3 times back and forth through the security check (with a sign stating you’re not allowed to go back once you’ve passed). Also, seats or individual boarding passes for this short, national flight didn’t exist. I got a general plastic ’ticket’, which I had to hand over when we started boarding.
The last part of this little flight adventure was that my backpack didn’t come with me on the same plane. There had been a total of 3 planes leaving from Corn Island to Managua, within about 2 hours. It kind of looked like they just put everyone’s luggage on all 3 planes, and figured out later what belonged to who (I’m sure it wasn’t thát unorganized, but that sure was the feeling I got). Anyway, they said we had to wait for 40 minutes. So when someone tells you this in Nicaragua, you account for at least half an hour more. And so it happened: the 3rd plane arrived after maybe 1 hour and 20 minutes and was carrying our luggage.
I love Nicaragua.
And I actually love this ‘Nica’ way of thinking: no stress and just arrive when it is time for you to arrive and when you’re ready.
I already miss the slow pace, being in nature all the time and feeling grounded all day. Being home, with a jetlag, and the increased input and stimulus from the outside world, makes me feel exhausted. Why can’t I always be in this state of calm and peace? I wonder. And as we all usually intent to do: I try to bring some of the holiday vibes home. At least I got a brown and sunny face to shine a light on others.
To end my blog I’d like to share some of these holiday intentions that I’d like to take home:
- Eat more local and seasonal. I want to make my own yogurt with the local raw milk available at a farm close by and buy locally produced honey;
- Make more fruit smoothies, yammie! Especially the combination with banana, piña and mango (which is not so local);
- There’s always another new day, nothing has to be done today (mañana, mañana);
- Have more chats with strangers and random people on the street (when I’m traveling I love to chat with locals and travelers);
- Talking Spanish! I love it, it makes me feel happy. I will go to a local meetup for people who want to speak Spanish;
- Be less lazy. Oh my god, if I see the work attitude there and how difficult the lives of some people (also good friends of mine) are, how hard they have to work, etc. I feel very fortunate and almost ashamed to feel tired. But I know I can’t compare the two worlds, it’s like comparing apples with pears. I’d love to dedicate more time and energy to my own business.
Having it written down, it seems like quite some intentions; normally I am always the one who says that change comes slowly with one goal at a time and you have to cut it in tiny little pieces. Well, let’s see in 6 months about my intentions.