Managua -- Not my favorite place!

I´ve been here about 24 hours, and I´ve already seen all there is to see ... or at least all that´s safe for me to see. I was transported to the one place it was apparently safe enough for me to tour solo. It was the Parque Historico, also known as the Loma de Tiscapa, high on a hill overlooking the city and Lake Managua. It´s also the former site of the Presidential Palace. I say former, because it was destroyed by the earthquake in 1972 (I think; here we go with dates again). There were a couple expositions to view, one of which was regarding "The Nights of Torture." It´s a horrifying story of men being tortured for being enemies of the state (i.e. political prisioners). I stood in the space that was the dungeon. I want to read the story in English (and can´t find it in short order on the Internet), because it´s one of those stories that defines a nation, I think, and so much of it was lost in translation.

I was guided through the story and the space by Ulises (his first name is Roger, and he prefers Ulises -- his spelling, not mine). He´s a college-educated tour guide who works for the mayor. He practiced his English, and I practiced my Spanish, and we did rather well. I lamented to him that the Lake of Managua and the ruins I could see from the Historical Park were too dangerous for a tourist, and he offered to show me around, which he did. We did that on foot, and he pointed out a lot of things. We walked through the Arboretum; there was shade! We saw construction in the works. Apparently, the government is building houses for the personnel who work for various government agencies.

We also saw something ... I don´t know the word to describe it. It´s a commune of sorts of abodes "constructed" of plastic bags and tarps -- nothing more solid -- in which live people who have been contaminated by the pesticides in the banana fields. It´s about one block wide and two blocks long, and there are barely paths that wide through it. The material for pictures was endless ... and entirely too intimate to capture digitally. I have photos from a distance (which I can´t post from this Internet place). The government doesn´t bother ... and doesn´t bother with ... the people who live there. I don´t know how long they´ve been there, and there are no signs that they´re leaving soon.

Ulises and I moved on toward the water. We saw a big theater -- Teatro Nacional Rubèn Darìo -- which is one of the few buildings to have survived the 1972 earthquake. We saw the new National Palace -- Palacio Nacional ... and children begging. Five children ran up to us begging ... and I mean begging ... for the water we had. We gave it to them. One of the children followed us a ways. Ulises didn´t respond to him for the longest time, and I followed Ulises´lead. Ulises eventually gave him 5 còrdobas (it´s about a quarter) for more water. I asked, then, about the best way to respond, and he told me that giving money was not the best idea. He then told the story the boy was telling: the boy´s mother sends children out in search of money or water or food ... the basics! ... because she´s sick and cannot work.

I´d been warned about this. It was the reason I was supposed to not go there alone. Lesson learned. It was really quite unnerving. It was the same kind of unnerving that greeted me last night. I arrived via the bus and was staying at the hotel 0perated by the bus line. I wanted to walk around and get my bearings. IMMEDIATELY upon exiting the building several taxi drivers asked if I wanted a cab. That is par. That happens every time I step outside or pause too long on the sidewalk. Taxi drivers beep in the hopes they can snag another fare. As I walked last night, I was informed that it was too dangerous. ("Peligroso" is becoming a frightfully familiar word.) One man called to me from across the street asking if I wanted a taxi or was looking for a hotel. I said no to both and continued walking. When I came around again to the hotel, he spoke to me in English about it being too dangerous and how helpful he was. He told me about his aunt´s restaurant and offered to show it to me. I declined and returned to my hotel. (He greeted me the next day -- Hey, there´s my friend, he said. And I was warned by someone else to be careful about him.) It´s dark here at 6, and it´s not okay to walk ANYWHERE after dark. I stopped somewhere for batteries for my camera (it´s been dead for two days, and I felt like I lost a limb!), and the woman at the store cautioned me, too. I appreciate people giving me that information, and it´s stifling not to be able to walk around when and where I want to.

Which is why I enjoyed the tour this a.m. with Ulises. We walked and walked. The Casa Presidencial is opposite the Palacio Nacional and next to the ruins I was drawn to -- Las Ruinas de la Catedral Vieja (the Ruins of the Old Cathedral). It was built in 1929 and destroyed by the earthquake n 1972. We found the lake shore. We couldn´t walk in the water -- more signs indicating danger -- but the view was incredible! We stopped for a beer -- more research! -- and exchanged e-mail information. Ulises also talked with me about things to see outside of the city, and we´ve planned a trip to a waterfall in Masaya (read Messiah) on Saturday. He´s volunteered his time! How fantastic is that?!

I´ll attend church services Sunday morning. There is an Episcopal Church one block from where I´m staying. How providential! I´m not crazy about the neighborhood, but it´s apparently among the safest in the city, and the Church is a good sign. I´m considering flying to Bluefields early next week. I don´t necessarily need to spend more time on the Carribean Coast, as too many people speak English. However, getting out of the city is not an easy thing to do. There is a bus that apparently goes to Leòn, Masaya, and Granada, but there are none that go elsewhere, apparently, only directly to destinations in Honduras and El Salvador. I may want to visit Granada, because the Lake of Nicaragua is there. There are also a couple volcanoes to visit, I think, and I´ll want to talk with Ulises about that. There is a growing Episcopal Church in Bluefields, so that would be good to see. From there, I may fly directly to San Salvador, as the bus ride between Managua and San Salvador is 12 hrs long. OY!

The views on the trip from the border of Costa Rica to Managua are FANTASTIC, and the views (from the high places) of the city are really quite breathtaking, too. It´s really quite sad that the place is so dangerous and the people so desperate. That desperation is what is so unsettling and disquieting. It´s difficult to be present to it -- perhaps because it heightens my own feelings of vulnerability and hints at my own sense of desperation-- and I´m not doing well with it. I´m embarrassed by my response, by my wanting to escape. That´s what I´m sitting with currently. I´m in a city that in several ways is not welcoming, and I´m trying ... trying ... not to judge the people by the circumstances in which they find themself and to which they are responding.

May God help me!