You’re Fatter and Whiter...

I love being in a country where honesty flourishes like the butterflies. I recently took a vacation to Arizona to see my family for Christmas and New Years, and as predicted, I ate everything that was within reach. A warning to the wise, food poisoning is more probable when eating a variety of different foods at large quantity. I think you can imagine what happened. However, it appears that I, the fragile flower, can and will survive any storm. So bring it on life, cuz I’m gunna rock you like a hurricane.
Two weeks later, I got back to Nicaragua, and the first thing I thought was, “F**k it’s hot.” I mean, it was 30 degrees in AZ, THIRTY! Granted I am closer to the equator, and okay... it wasn’t too terribly caliente, but the shock factor was enough to confuse the hell out of my already delicate system. I walked with my 2 backpacks and one duffel suitcase from the airport to the highway, a staggering 50 feet, and waved my hand for a bus. This is the Nica signal for “stop, here I am, pick me up:” Put your right arm straight out in front of you, parallel to the ground (suck on that high school math class, I remember what parallel is, oh and perpendicular too… what’s up!). Lift your arm up so your elbow is near your head, keeping it erect (wink), with your hand extended. Next, wing your arm down to your right leg. Repeat over and over until bus, taxi, truck, mototaxi, tricycle, etc stops. For emergencies, do the arm-flap rapidly, like you’re trying to fly away (Note: Do NOT use 2 arms, you’ll look like a freak). This is what happened:
Bus 1: Finger shake, aka, “No no no little miss gringa.” –DAMN-
Bus 2: Not going to where I want... DAMN
Bus 3: UnFO…. No frigen way am I getting on that thing.
Bus 4: Success!!!
The bus ride was easy enough. I drove for 2 hours and 15 minutes, switched buses, waited for 20 minutes, and finished my journey another 45 minutes until I got to my site.
That night I visited my old host family. I was as content as one could be after leaving a life full of hot showers and Italian food restaurants. And that’s when it happened, when I realized what I had come back to. My host sister announces, “Look, she came back fatter and whiter.” Now, if you ever visit Nicaragua, you must realize beforehand that this is not an insult. Life here is much more black and white. Short or tall. Nice or mean. Bone-ass skinny or Fatty Mcfatfat. I am in the “gordita es bonita” category, and I’m pretty content. I responded, “Yea. I ate a lot there.” =)
So, what’s the moral of the story?  Don’t get food poisoning? The Scorpions is one of the most rockin’ awesomest bands ever!? Curvy is scurvy? How the frick should I know? This isn’t a story, this is my life. I’m signing out, reminding everyone who reads this to smile, laugh, and karate-chop everything that life throws at you. Peace! ~Aleia~
(Pics: Adriana my neighbor helping me paint my mural in my house, me in my artistic frenzy, fun at home with my family and friends, and a toucan made out of a tire which was one of the winning products at the National Business Competition of 2010)