Well, how to start? I have been in Nicaragua since May of 2010. But one of my favorite memories didn´t happen until June of 2012. Because at the end of June 2012, my parents came to visit me in Nicaland.
They came strolling into the MGA airport around lunch time, and I scheduled a taxi to take us to Leon. Leon was fun for 2 reasons: 1) My travel buddy was there so my parents got to meet Miss Mary, and 2) We went to the beach. We didn't do much that first day. We walked around and saw the cathedral, had some delish Mediterranean food for supper, cracked jokes with Mary, and my favorite part was the hot shower at the hotel. Just kidding... kind of. The real fun came the next day when we hit the beach.
I reserved a room at a beach hostel called Quetzal Playa, a super chill spot with hammocks, coconut trees, rum, and our friend the ocean just 50 feet away. Now that day, that particular day, the ocean was in a feisty mood. It appeared relatively calm and even welcoming with it's soft waves gently crashing into the beach as if calling out to us, "Hey... come on in. The water's fine..." But you know what, the water wasn't fine. The water...was pissed. I reckon some jerks were out killing a bunch of sharks or stingrays or something, but I digress. Cliff and I suited up and went out to the water. We stood there, in the shallow end, taking in the view, smiling like fools. And then.... WOOOOOOSH... What's that? Not a basketball in the net my friends. That's the sound of my papa bear and I falling on our asses. Shall I repeat it... WOOOOOOOOOSH. Now, Cliff and I are built sturdy to say the least. 2/3 of my weight is in my ass and thighs and Cliff didn't get the nickname Papa Bear for nothing. But that ocean, that beautiful blue shimmering water, well, she likes to make fools of us. We were not deterred. We went back and forth, being flipped through the air as if we were feathers, falling on our butts and wrists and faces, being filled in spots that I won't mention here with sand, and it.was.awesome. After being body slammed by a giant body of water, we did the next logical thing. We drank. And for dinner - stingray. In your face ocean!
The next day was "Visit Aleia's Site Day," which was just funny. After hot showers, good food, and a beach, I took my Mom and Cliff to a tiny town that was scorching hot where we had to walk over a mile to get to a place that didn't even have electricity because it was out that day (shocker). But they were such troopers! We visited my host family, walked around my town, saw a pig, saw some chickens, saw some cows, saw my daily life. And at this point, my wish was fulfilled. But the vacation continued! We had to take a bus back to Leon, and I was terrified. Luckily, there were seats for all of us, but I was sitting on the tire seat with my mom who had to put her legs in the aisle because there was no damn space, and Cliff was sitting in a position that had his knees up to his chin. So naturally, we were comfortable. But you know what? They loved it. Those freaks that I call parents LOVED it! "What an experience," they said. "We saw so many people holding chickens!" So I guess my anxiety was unnecessary. However, once we got to Leon, we had to get to Granada... and that was another 2 bus rides...and there was a line.
But good things come to those who wait...and pay. We met this taxi driver who we will call "Crazy Hair," and he drove us from the beach to my site. He gave me his number in case we needed his services again, and low and behold, a solution to our bus dilemma. "Hi Crazy Hair, this is Aleia, that gringa you took to...yes yes, look, is there any way you'd take us to Granada? You would... how much? DONE!" So we bypassed the buses. =) Totes worth it.
When we got to Granada, my parents met Chocolate Thunder, but they called him Luis. We stayed in this adorable hotel called Casa San Francisco, and they had the BEST food I've ever had in my life. That's no fricken joke people, I mean, I wanted to take tiny tiny bites so I could savor the moment longer. Enough about food though, the hotel had a little pool and garden area, and we all just loved it. Go there. We had piña coladas by the pool, and talked about how awesome Nicaragua is, etc... It was good fun. Damn that food was good. AH! So we went to bed in our cute hotel room, and prepared to get up the next morning for the island boat tour. The hotel hooked us up with travel and a boat captain, and Mom and Cliff got to see Monkey Island, just like KK. After that, we went to the market and got some grammatically incorrect t-shirts, and then Chocolate Thunder hooked us up with a transportation guy who took us to Masaya and Managua all in one day!
The day before my parents left, we went to Masaya to go check out the market. They got some souvenirs, we had some lunch, we made some Spanglish jokes with our driver, and then we went to the Masaya Volcano. Now this volcano had been shut down for 2 months for recent activity, and apparently had just opened up 6 days before my parents came into town. I don't know what to call that, so we'll just say destiny. So destiny led us to the Masaya Volcano, and my Mom and Cliff put on the hard hats and looked down into the pit of hell. There was so much smoke and sulfur, but it was so cool! Unfortunately they only let us stay for like 10 minutes because of the recent activity, plus it was starting to rain and it is a common fact that a storm over a volcano leads to freak lightening storms and people die. So to avoid death, we left. And went to Managua.
We got there in the late afternoon, so we didn't do much. We had dinner in the restaurant, we watched TV in the hotel room, we walk around, but really, it was the last night, and we had done all we could. The next morning, I said adios, and Mom and Cliff were off to America yet again. It was a sweet vacation. We ate stingray, got swept off our feet (via ocean), looked into the mouth of a vicious volcano, saw some monkeys, went on a boat, road on a chicken-packed bus, drank, ate, and had a great effin time. So, to keep with the trend. I dubbed my sister a badass, and now I'd like the world to know (or at least those of you who still read this damn blog) that my parents, Cliff and Julie, have visited Nicaragua, which, heretoforth, makes them... BADASSES!