Nicaragua here we come.

I know I am not really qualified to say this, but for all the scaryness the name seems to conjure in us Americans, Managua does not seem to have much of a bite these days. And probably never had all the meaness that conservative war mongering pundits wanted us believe in the first place. But hey I was only 11 years old and what did I know then and what do I know now, for that matter.

Tree lined avenues. Glistening new malls. Helpful taxi and bus drivers. Passable tourist infrastructure. We only stayed a night and saw just a fraction of this huge city, but it made a nice first impression anyway.

We are quasi living with our friend Jen, in this terriffic colonial home only a few blocks from the central park in Grenada. The house has an inner courtyard with flowers and open to the stars and bats, and that´s where we are sleeping just under the overhanging terracotta eaves. I opened my eyes yesterday morning and focused on a humming bird. The place is mostly unfurnished and I like to run around on the ancient tile floors and pretend I am in the Russian ballet, which after published would again kill any chances for my ever getting elected to public office. Poop. We have a nice hammock and a few chairs, and the beds of course. Jen, who we worked with at the orphanage, is renting this place for just 90 dollars per month from some New Yorker. Our share is $2.50 each per day.

Grenada has all this old and enchanting architecture, with five bold cathedrals and streets lined with the most diverse doorways. Our place, for instance, has five sets of doors, each 12 feet high made from wood, that line the exterior walls to the street from our corner building. Beautiful. And there are tons of these, and I have tried to catch a bit the magic with my camera.

Jen is volunteering here in the schools, and to keep ourselves busy a bit, until Jen can join us on a longer adventure next week, Heather and I have started volunteering for two hours per day at the Hogar de Ancianos. The home of the ancients. Old folks, you get the pictures. Sister Sonja wants me to do some exercise with them, but mostly I have been giving some sweet old ladies arm, hand and back messages, and Heather and I just chat it up with the fellas: the best we can anyway because it´s in Spanish, and they don´t have much teeth and hear poorly for the most part. One of them is 102 years old. Nice. Another told me he has 18 children. I told him Heather is pregnant with my ninth kid, and with my young age that seemed to impress him. Today, Heather was sitting with a woman who was singing the most delightful songs.

Three days ago, we joined two San Franciscans here on vacation and went to Lago De Apoyo for a day, a crater lake surrounded by forest with howler monkeys and with clear water the color of a blind blue eyed Husky dog. Refreshing swimming and ice cold babyruth candy bars.

Tonight, we are meeting some new friends for pizza. Grenada has a decent tourist infrastructure too and lots of decent restaurants, and cheap, three bucks for pizza. We are also going to see some documentary, which hopefully my Spanish will not totally fail me and allow for some bit of understanding and enjoyment. This afternoon, Heather hopefully is going to get another ultrasound. We tried to get one yesterday at another ultrasound clinic, but they told us they were not actually getting an ultrasound machine until next December.

Next week, Jen is going to join us in traveling a short distance to the Pacific, the San Juan Del Sur area, which is only a handfull of kilometers from the Costa Rican border. If it is nice and the waves don´t scare the shit out of us, we will stay for the week, and then return to Grenada for another week.