Nicaragua

Visited: February 1997

Duration of visit: 2 weeks

Capital city: Managua

Population: 4.87 million (1997)

Estimated reading time: 14 minutes

• Hospitality of Nicaraguans and their sincere interest in conversation with foreign backpackers.
• Brutal history of civil wars, constant fighting between different political factions and a global encounter of American capitalism with Soviet communism.
• Challenging navigation in Managua without street names and proper addresses.
• Islas de Maiz – from long overland adventure to get there to perfect sandy beaches and to an intrusion into my hotel room.
• Talking with locals about their experiences of cruel violence and torture during civil war.

The largest country in Central America, but also the poorest; attractive for building canal that could connect Atlantic and Pacific Ocean, yet politically unstable; adventurous to visit, however it might appear too dangerous to travel around.

These are just a few reflections that I had received about Nicaragua, before visiting it, depending on the perspective from which you look at it.

Guatemala was part of my Big Tour around Americas, which started in New York and ended in Buenos Aires 15 months later. I was already an experienced backpacker, able to communicate in Spanish by the time I crossed the border to Nicaragua from Honduras.

A brief historical overview is essential to comprehend the present situation in Nicaragua.

Since the beginning of the 20^th century, the situation in Nicaragua has been influenced in one way or another by the American government. In 1914, a treaty was signed giving the United States the exclusive right to build a canal from Atlantic to Pacific Ocean and to establish a military base in Nicaragua. Due to constant incidents, the unstable and seismically dangerous area, the project to build the canal was abandoned.

Since the late 1930s, the country has been ruled by dictators from the Somoza family, with strong US support. Rebel movements have been present throughout, but they were never strong enough to change the existing system that has pushed the country into ever-increasing poverty.

In 1972, Managua was hit by a strong earthquake. Most of the city was destroyed, 6,000 people lost their lives, 300,000 were left homeless.

A lot of international humanitarian aid has been donated, but few reached those who would really need it. All control over international aid was held by dictator Anastasio Somoza, who kept most of the aid for his family, political and business allies.

In the second half of the 1970s, the most important opposition party, the FSLN (The Sandinista National Liberation Front), grew into an increasingly well-organized group, expanding support from people countrywide. With a few kidnappings of important individuals from the Somoza group, they took over large amounts of money and weapons, which encouraged them into an organized direct fight against the ruling party.

On 17^th July 1979, dictator Somoza finally surrendered and fled to Paraguay, where he was assassinated a year later.

At first, under the rule of FSLN, many things improved; illiteracy was greatly reduced, health care was better, the land was distributed to the poor … However, the Sandinistas soon made a fatal mistake; they implemented the communist system from Cuba and Soviet Union. The United States, which had previously supported Somoza’s government until the last days of its existence, began to form the Contras rebel movement, which operated mainly from neighboring countries.

In the 1980s Nicaragua became the fighting ground of two opposing systems: capitalism and communism, the United States and the Soviet Union.

Tens of thousands of people lost their lives in civil war, many more were left homeless, missing or leaving the country. Perhaps the war would have continued even to these days, if the President of Costa Rica, Oscar Arias Sanchez, had not offered a peace agreement with early elections in 1988. The FSLN leader Daniel Ortega was confident of winning the election, so he accepted the offer. However, he was wrong and surprisingly lost.

Nicaragua has been a democracy since 1990, but so far it has not helped much to improve the country’s economic situation. Poverty is noticeable at every turn. Nicaragua is not only the largest country in Central America, but also the poorest.

Agriculture still employs about 35% of the workforce. Most of the land is cultivated by hand. According to some data, the unemployment rate reaches as high as 50%.

The average family can hardly buy a bike for each of its members, television is a luxury, most residents can only dream of a car and a telephone. Slightly more developed is only the capital city Managua.

Crossing the border between Honduras and Nicaragua was a formality, since I had already arranged visa in advance. The customs officer told me that Slovenia and Nicaragua had very good bilateral relations. I don’t think he even knew where Slovenia was and he just wanted to be kind. That was a good sign!

I soon realized that Nicaragua is slightly different from other Central American countries. We were loaded on an old Russian military truck converted into a bus, and driven along a potholed road to the first settlement: empty roads, old houses, mostly aged, deteriorated Lada cars with many people who were willing to help me.

During a sunny afternoon, while I was travelling on the bus heading to Estelí, I met a sociable young man in his twenties who kindly invited me to his apartment. It was late, I was tired and Ignacio seemed trustful to me. He anticipated me that I would need to sleep on the floor in my sleeping bag, as he didn’t possess an additional bed.

When we got to his apartment, it soon became very clear why he couldn’t offer me an extra bed. In a large two-bedroom apartment, there were one bed, two chairs, a small table and an improvised shower with toilet and sink. I laid down in my sleeping bag and listened to Ignacio’s life story late into the night. It was as tense and full of surprises as reading an Agatha Christie detective novel.

When my counterpart reached the age of 16, he fled his homeland, which was trapped in the grip of communism and just before the beginning of civil war. In Honduras, Ignacio was detained in a refugee camp, where he spent the next three years. He was searching for salvation in faith and God, surviving weekly only with a cup of rice, beans, three pieces of bread, some coffee, sugar and salt.

He became a kind of spiritual leader of the camp.

Many of his friends lost their lives while they were gathering firewood in the surrounding forests, being shot by local farmers.

Why would someone gather firewood and risk their lives?

Because all the food (some rice and beans) they got was raw and they had to cook it by themselves utilizing their knowledge and skills.

Once every six months, he even got a half day off to stroll around the nearby town. During one of the free afternoons, friends of the priests invited him to a mass in the capital Tegucigalpa. He was full of enthusiasm and happiness, therefore he accepted the offer and forgot to return back to camp on time.

Unfortunately, on the return his group was stopped at a police checkpoint. As he was without documents, he was jailed in a 2.5 square meter prison cell at 2:00am, where a total of 14 other prisoners were already sleeping. Fortunately, he only stayed there until the next morning, when he was sent back to the refugee camp.

After three years, he was released from the camp. He moved to the United States, where he devoted himself entirely to the protestant faith. He returned to Nicaragua a month ago and decided to help the most needed people (prisoners, poor and homeless) in his own way. Ignacio received a two-bedroom apartment and started a new era in his interesting life. I was the first guest that he invited to his new home.

The capital city of Managua didn’t impress me at all.

Navigating a city with millions of inhabitants becomes exceedingly challenging in the absence of street names. Orientation is possible only after some generally known landmarks, such as for example Hotel Intercontinental.

From there, you will find your guesthouse 3 streets to the north, 2 blocks to the east, a little to the left or right and you are already there.

It is much easier to take one of the cheap taxis, costing only less than 50 cents, which will transport you to the desired destination through an exhilarating journey. Even locals are quite confused and exhibit poor orientation.

When I was looking for a central market one day, I asked at least 10 people and, in addition, a whole bunch of city bus drivers. No one really knew what I was talking about, even though my Spanish was already at intermediate level by then. The reason is that every few years they change names of various markets, stations or similar landmarks, but people keep using the old names.

The newly built Plaza de la Revolución (Revolution Square), formerly known as Plaza de la República (Republic Square) is home to Managua’s historic center, located on the shores of Lake Xolotlan. The location is unconventionally set on the edge of the city.

Next to it, stand the remains of The Old Cathedral of Managua, where the interior was demolished during the earthquake. The cathedral survived the 1931 earthquake, but was heavily damaged during the 1972 earthquake, which eventually led to the construction of a new cathedral located in another part of Managua. The plaza has been partially rebuilt and many old buildings have been refurbished.

The Rubén Darío National Theatre is located nearby as well, but my taxi driver didn’t have any idea where he should be taking me. It is a very unusual, quiet location, without action or activities that are so typical for other Central American capitals.

My personal biggest adventure in Nicaragua was a trip from Managua to Corn islands or Islas del Maiz. Bus and boat rides from Managua to these Caribbean islands lasted two and a half days.

The navigation from the city of Rama to Bluefield, positioned along the Escondido River, was the most remarkable highlight. Five hours through picturesque landscape and tropical forest on the board of a ferry passed too quick; there were so many interesting conversations with locals who wanted to know about me as much as I wanted to hear from them.

I had to sleep in Bluefields for one night and the next morning, at 3:00am, I continued the trip on a ship to the islands. Huge waves during the last part on a medium sized vessel tossed us like a helpless surf board in the ocean. I could barely contain myself from throwing the whole breakfast into the sea. But the reward was astonishing. When a view of a paradise island with sandy beaches, palm trees and clear sea opened up in front of us, I immediately realized that the long trip was worthwhile.

Not many words are needed to describe activities during the next days that I stayed on the island: swimming, sunbathing, relaxing, and walking around the amazing island to find more beaches. The food was simple and inexpensive. People are friendly, the kids always in search of conversation with gringo.

Alongside my new Finnish friend Anti, I took up residence in a modest guesthouse, which was being operated by a local family that rented out several rooms. At night, a young local woman crept into the room. Anti woke up in the moment when the girl was holding his passport and money ready to leave through the door.

Of course, I woke up too and started looking around the room to see if any of my items were missing. I couldn’t find my sport shoes, so I woke up the hotel owner and started yelling and screaming.

A few minutes later, Anti warned me that he found a small wrapped package with drugs on the shelf of our room, so I’d rather forget my shoes and go back to the room.

Calling the police could cause us even more troubles. Apparently, they planted drugs on us, while sleeping.

Feeling a deep sense of regret, I wrote off a worn-out Reebok shoes and laid down on bed. I couldn’t sleep anymore; I was thinking about that strange situation. All in all, I found it really bizarre.

Next morning, I asked Anti to show me where the drug package was. He pointed at a small package wrapped in old newspaper that he had hidden under the window. “No way! This is my souvenir from Honduras, wrapped in newspaper to protect it!”, I shouted at him.

It was too late to claim my shoes by then. Despite my efforts to examine the footwear of every suspicious individual I encountered, I was unable to locate my old sports shoes before departing from the island.

After spending a few days on the islands, I realized that the surroundings of this tropical paradise are not as idyllic as they initially appeared. Islas del Maiz is serves as a crucial transit location for the trafficking of drugs from Colombia to Florida.

According to a local policeman approximately 30% of the population is somehow involved in drug trafficking activities: communication support, repacking, navigation, supervising, protecting or simply not reporting or even reselling drugs that can be easily purchased on the streets.

During my journey back to Managua, our boat experienced a breakdown on the Escondido River. No one was upset. We docked the boat to the shore and waited for the next passing boat to catch up with us at around 2:00am. It was fortunately strong enough to pull us up to the port of Rama, from where I continued overland toward Lake Nicaragua. Such unplanned situations are just an integral part of the adventure in the country where every day an opportunity for a new adventure is created.

My last stop before crossing the border to Costa Rica, was Lake Nicaragua. The largest lake in Central America, known for the only freshwater sharks in the world. I didn’t see them, but I was satisfied with two volcanoes on the islands and exploring petroglyphs of an unknown pre-Colombian civilization from thousands of years ago.

In fact, I was very lucky to come across a friendly local man who offered to guide me, opening slightly overgrown landscape with his machete. I would have certainly never found images of animals and other strange figures carved in the stones by myself. Ancient petroglyphs (rock carvings) and stone statues have been discovered all over the island.

There is a common perception among travelers that anyone venturing to Nicaragua must have a special reason for doing it. This is certainly true, as Nicaragua in the mid-1990s has little to offer tourists accustomed to comfort and luxury.

The country lacks appealing architectural designs and museums of interest. It is rather characterized by poor infrastructure without national parks, attractive events or anything similar. On top of that, it is considered to be very dangerous, which proved false during my visit.

My purpose of traveling to Nicaragua was primarily to better understand how people live in the post-war country. To get a closer look about the past from the stories of ordinary people and possibly to reveal the myth of war situation and insecurity in Nicaragua, which is present in the international media.

It looks as Nicaragua has a big potential to develop as a tourist destination with unspoiled nature, tragic history and extremely friendly people. It will just take some time.

Nicaragua will stay in my memories as a land of friendly people. Years and years of war, conflict and hostility did not affect their kindness in any way.

I am certainly not the only traveler in Nicaragua who has encountered an exceptionally warm welcome at every turn.

People kept asking me about life in Europe. What they find it especially difficult to understand is the fact that in developed countries only a limited number of farmers are required to cultivate extensive land areas utilizing agricultural machinery. In Nicaragua, the majority of agricultural land continues to be farmed using rudimentary manual methods and simple tools.