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People in this country are obsessed with Maclaren, especially the hotel staff, they literally congregate around us at breakfast, but they are all super friendly (check out the photo). But when we leave the hotel, the people swarm us in the markets and try to touch MD and repeatedly say, "la cochita, la cochita"; its very bothersome, and in some cases down right rude.
Breakfast is shaping up to be the best meal of day in Heather's opinion, which I can't understand because I haven't asked her to eat anything strange yet. The coffee is good, but not as strong as I expected. Regardless of our best intentions of getting an early start, we are much slower now with a baby in-tow than we used to be.
So here comes the test of how good of a driver of a manual transmission I am...shopping day at Masaya, 25 kilometers away. Getting directions in Nicaragua requires at least 1 additional confirmation of the original directions that you receive...no one seems to know for absolute certain the directions to any one place. This is especially true of driving directions since not many people here own cars or drive, most of the entire country relies on the "chicken buses" or hitchhiking to get where they need. Their concept of driving time is really off too because they are used to the chicken buses that stop every 80 feet, a trip for them may take 2 hours to go 15 kilometers, but with a car it takes 15 minutes. Also their favorite item for a landmark is "the rotunda", there are no hard right corners on the freeways, all turns are made at round-abouts. So directions go like this (English translation), "go to the end of town, take a left, go 15 kilometers until the rotunda, take the 3rd right of the rotunda, there maybe a sign there that says "x", then go to the next rotunda, take the 2nd right, look for the big tree there won't be a sign, keep going and you'll be right there." But the real direction are like this, go to the 1st major intersection of town (not to the end of town down the unpaved road with goats), take a left, go 5 kilometers, take the only right of the rotunda, go straight for 5 kilometers and veer left at the split in the road, go 2 more kilometers and the place will have a nice big sign that says turn here....yea, directions here are tough.So it took 4 workers from the hotel to give me directions on how to get to Masaya and then to the old market in Masaya. A couple of wrong turns later and I pronounce myself a proficient driver of manual transmission vehicles.
When we got to the Old Market, a guy in a blue shirt was standing on the corner waving me down and showing me a parking spot right on the corner in front of the market. He looks clean, his clothes are pressed, and we're on a very busy street...guess I can "trust" this guy. He greets me with surprisingly good English and wants to know my name and where we are from. Then he tells me he'll watch my car and take good care of it, and do I want a car wash while I shop? Most times, you can turn down locals offers for sales/service, but sometimes you can't or shouldn't...and this was one of those times. "Ok, no wash but take good care of my car." Then, walking into the Old Market, we are greeted by another guy in a pressed shirt with an embroidered logo on it, and he indicates that he is a tour guide for Masaya and would be pleased to show us around the Old Market and possibly the New Market too (the New Market is more of locals market with vegetables and cheap Chinese goods). I politely decline the offer, who needs a tour guide through an open air handicrafts market? But the guy just keeps walking beside us and talking to me (Heather always defers responsibility for this kind of stuff to me). After 10 minutes or so, I turn to him and again thank him for his time and tell him we don't need a guide...can't let him spend too much time stalking us, he'll think we agreed to a tour and he'll expect payment. Thankfully he leaves. Alright, onto the shopping. Prices are for the most part cheaper than what we've seen in the Central Plaza of Granada, and of a little higher quality too. Starting prices are cheaper (mas barato), but that means the final price is a lot closer to the starting price, so negotiating doesn't feel like as big of a win. We do our customary once through the market, gauging the prices between the front, back, extreme sides, and middle of the market; taking mental notes on quality, shop keepers, items of interest, etc. As expected, stalls in the front have higher prices than those in the out of the way corners, there a few gems hidden in the depths of the middle, and the inner rows are the most willing to negotiate...Ok, back to the front to start our buying. First stop is a fabric swing similar to a hammock that will fit Maclaren just perfectly. The seller wants $60 USD...Heather's mouth almost hits the concrete, I don't even bother stopping to negotiate. For the next 4 hours we crisscross our way through the market, passing the same shops 2 or 3 times, stopping periodically at the restaurant in the back to refill on beer and once to eat lunch. The shop keepers must have thought we were crazy, they are not used to seeing people spend so much time there, most people are stopping by on a tour with a guide and are there for less than an hour. We finish the day off feeling accomplished; a wood mask, hammock swing ($6, not $60) a doll, a 25 pack of fake Cohiba cigars (more on that in a minute), a magnet, a painted wood plate, a pair of marachas...and probably some more stuff that I can't remember. So I know that Cuba and Nicaragua are friendly to each other, and I've been seeing Cuban cigars for sell everywhere, so I figured I'd get some. 25 for $20, that's a steal if they are real, and not a lot of money if they are not. When we got back to the hotel that night I was talking with our bartender friend and asked him is they were real, and he said no, the only real Cuban cigars in Nicaragua are to be found in Managua at expensive bars and cigar sellers...everything on the streets here is fake (but he did recommend some good Nicaraguan cigars for me to buy). Oh well, guess I got scammed for $20 even though the shop keeper swore up and down that they were "authentico y fresco".
Done shopping, guess its time to pay our car watchman. He wants $200 cordobas for watching my parked car...I so no and give him $100 ($4) and send him on his way with a sad look on his face. I forgot to mention that the Old Market is at the bottom of the hill in town, the top of the hill is at the freeway, and there are no signs to get you to the old market; I just made an assumption on where to find it on the way in, as my directions from our hotel definitely did not include detailed instructions on how to get through town. Getting out of town however proved to be much more difficult (most towns are set up on 1 way streets, but not in a grid pattern like a planned out city, road run in every direction as they popped up over the years as the town grew. We circle through town a couple times, ask for directions from at least 3 different random people on the side of the road, and finally make it back to the highway.
Back at the hotel, a quick freshen up, and we're back out to the Plaza for more shopping....momma hasn't had enough yet. She saw a dress for MD yesterday (ayer) that she wants. Seems that fabric is more valuable here than the rest of the handicrafts...the old ladies won't come off their prices hardly at all. Price starts at $6 dollars and doesn't go below $5.50 even after walking away and coming back 10 minutes later...but hell its cute, and we ay that for clothes back home all the time.
2 hours on the front patio of the hotel socializing with all kinds of people, a pizza from Tele-Pizza, a couple mojitos later, we're beat, its been another long day in the Nicaraguan heat.
Side note: seems like lots of Americans come to Nicaragua, but not to vacation, to volunteer. We've run into probably 10 different mission trips and there is a group of about 15 college girls from Iowa staying at our hotel who are getting degrees in sociology or social work who are down here for a couple of weeks to do free social work (they are very annoying).
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