Surrounded By Bacon

Hey father,
it almost sounds as if i am neglecting you guys in the blog, but no worries, i sent something to make up for it. You have to check momís email. We have been having such a great time and since this was our last night in esteli, we went out to a very nice restaraunte with one of the kids from my family. i think i am a little sick again, but ill be fine. I have been sleeping a lot today and donít feel all that great. Anyway, the time is winding down, and i am definitely looking forward to coming home, although the next few days with be fun since we are just hanging out in granada and masaya. Anyway,
MUCH LOVE
Mateo

********************

Matt,

I blog everything you and Hil send, no matter who it is addressed to. Mom read your latest email – the long one – out loud and we loved it. It seems you and Hil trade being sick – one day it’s you and then it’s her. So, how much does a real nice restaurant in Esteli cost? And what did you have to eat?

We went out for dinner last night. We used our last Walden Grill gift certificate, sat at the bar and had crab cakes and sirloin tips. It was fun, but we overate, as usual. Then we stopped to see Nana to make sure she was following her doctorís orders, which she was not. When we arrived, she wasnít wearing her eye protector because she said it made TV watching difficult. We both threatened her with physical harm until she put it on. We know as soon as we left, off it came.

Love

Dad

********************

haha,
a real nice restaraunte in esteli costs about 14 dollars for three people. And that is not bad if you ask me because it would cost about the same to go to mcdonalds. I had filet mignon, which here involves the steak being surrounded by bacon, omg it was so good. Hil had a different kind of steak and david had fish. It was a nice way to spend our last night. today at around three we leave for granada, hopefully, and we will spend the two days there. I am definitely getting very excited about coming home. it has been a very long trip and i miss people
Anyway
off i go
Much love
Mateo

Luckily Carolina

Hey all,

so thursday after classes i return home to find that the driver that the Cuadros sent is there, and has been since 8 that morning. Apparently this is not even a problem, but i felt pretty bad. The three hour drive was not bad, but hil was feeling pretty sick and had been sick right before we left. When we arrived at their house, we knew that we had underestimated what having money was…. or at least I had, as hil said hmmm i expected their house to be bigger. I have no idea what she was talking about because it was the biggest house in nicaragua that i had ever seen. It had a yard, two maids, and a bunch of drivers. Not only that but gardeners and the such. The maids were the nicest people i’ve met and they got us drinks and food once we arrived. It turns out that one of them was the nanny of Edgar Cuadro when he was a child. (Edgar Cuadro being the father of the family). Bertha and Edgard were still in school at that point, but they arrived home soon after. Once Bertha arrived she told us we were going to go the presidential building and have our pictures taken with the president. We insisted that this was not necessary, but Bertha said that her mother thought it was. So off we went with one of the drivers to the presidential building, we stopped on the way to pick up Carolina, the second youngest sister. Once we arrived and were in the first security building, one of the guards asked bertha for ID, she responded by saying that she was pissed off he would even ask and brushed past him. At this point hillary says ®I am going to be sick®, and bertha says ®No don’t do that®Luckily Carolina showed hil to the bathroom where she became abruptly sick. I just found it kinda amusing and thought that that can not happen too often in the building. Once inside we were brought to the office of the mother, who is the party planner for the president. Planning all the occasions and being a kind of people person for the president. We were asked if we wanted anything to eat or drink about a hundred times. Always saying that we were fine, but muchos gracias. After that we were brought to the weighting room for the president who turns out to be a very nice guy. We got our pictures taken with him and talked for a little while. After that the mother gave us a tour of the whole building which was very cool. We were basically the only people there. We stopped in the kitchen to get a drink and one of the better sandwiches i’ve had. After that we headed back to the Cuadros house, where we hung out for the rest of the night. The next day we went to the Mall with edgard, who is 16 and a very cool kid. We came back to the house, had dinner and then Bertha tells us that we are going out with her and a bunch of her friends. At about eight, we are picked up by the driver of one of her friends, and we go around picking up more people than you would believe can fit in an SUV, 12 not including the driver. It was edgard me hilly and 9 other girls. Two of whom were from the states. One from penn. and the other from good old texas. Anyway, we went to a club named Aqua where we hung out, talked and danced. It was a pretty good night over all and hil got hit on by the ex-presidents son. The son of Aleman. So all in all it was pretty interesting. The next morning at about 6 we got up and left for San Juan del Sur. Where they have yet another beautiful house on this hill, the only downside is there were more stairs than i ever want to see again. They live on a private beach in this private little community… did i mention the maid came with us, well she did. We hung out there, and swam and just took it easy. A very relaxing time. And the food was so good. So good, it was some very good meat and i couldn’t believe our luck at finding these friendly people. The next day we hung out for part of the day, swam and ate. After that we packed up and headed back to managua. We hung out at the house, ordered some Pizza Hut pizza, which was soooo good and something i haven’t had in a while and i played Halo with edgard. Then this morning, we had a driver take us to the bus station, and then took the bus back here, just in time for about an hour of school. Over all the weekend was great, and was a definite high point of the trip. Thank you very much to the Cuadros. Tomorrow is our last day in Esteli, i am packing up tonight, and we leave at 3 tomorrow afternoon. Tonight we are going out to dinner, and then tomorrow we are off to granada. It looks like a very beautiful city, and we have made reservations at this hotel that also has the best ice cream, the Cuadros recommended the hotel on our way back from San Juan, when we also stopped to sample this ice cream, and pick up Nacatamales, which are a great nicaraguense breakfast. We are spending two nights in Granada, but we are going to take a day trip to Massaya, which should be fun, and then we are going to head back to Managua, where we will stay at the quaker house and then we leave friday morning. The trip is winding down fast, and we will be back at the end of the week. Although i am sad to be leaving this beautiful country, i am also kind of glad. It has been a long trip and i miss my friends. I also think that we have accomplished what we needed to, being able to carry on conversations in spanish… most of the time. Anyway, i will email again before the trip is done.

Much love to all
Mateo

Instead, They Phoned

After a long conversation late last night with both Hil and Matt from Berthaís house, with Bertha laughing and her dog yelping in the background, that included a long string of how great this is and how much fun that was, I asked, ìSo Matt, tell me exactly what incentive do you have to come home?

ìNone,î he replied, and then launched into, ìDad, we got to meet the president of Nicaragua in his building, and when the security guard asked for identification, Bertha just laughed at him and kept walking, and we were the only ones there, and Hilís vomiting was Hilarious, and weíre having pizza tonight and they have the only yard weíve seen so far, and … .î

Weíll all be at the airport Friday night. Will they?


And Day Brought Back My Night

It was so simple: you came back to me
and I was happy. Nothing seemed to matter
but that. That you had gone away from me
and lived for days with him– it didnít matter.
That I had been left to care for our old dog
and house alone–couldnít have mattered less!
On all this, you and I and our happy dog
agreed. We slept. The world was worriless.

I woke in the morning, brimming with old joys
till the fact-checker showed up, late, for work
and started in: Item: itís years, not days.
Item: you had no dog. Item: she isnít back,
in fact, she just remarried. And oh yes, item: you
left her, remember?
I did? I did. (I do.)

Geoffrey Brock


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Chrisís parents took us to see The Finn Brothers (formerly Crowded House), Martin Sexton, and Angela McCluskey last Saturday night. There was an attractive couple in front of us who danced next to their chairs, but were prevented from using the wide open spaces next to us by the ever present security guards. Absurd.
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Write Home

“Where are those kids? It’s 5:30, shouldn’t they be back in Esteli at their stations?”

If there are any blog readers who have heard from the wandering wonders, please leave a comment.


Chris is away at baseball camp and will return for one week of work before he leaves again, this time for trips to Ohio and the Cape with his parents. I figure I have maybe two more stories involving Chris, and this one, which will put most people who are not blood relatives to sleep, is one of my favorites.

For two weeks, we hammered, cut, pried, smashed and sometimes bled, removing all the water-damaged wood from the side of the building. Finally, we began to reassemble what we had torn away. Thursday we nailed clapboards, and Friday when we arrived, I had hoped to continue. However, we found yet more rotted wood, this a heavy timber called a header that formed the supporting member above a window. I desperately wanted to continue the simple task of cutting the clapboards while Chris nailed. I didnít want to breathe in more dead carpenter ant bodies, or be showered with hot nail filings as we sawed out the offending pieces.

Chris had other ideas.

ìLetís finish with the rotted wood.î

ìNo, we can work around it.î

ìBut if we do that, weíll have to backtrack.î

ìBut not much. I need a break. I want to do the fun stuff.î

I was also worrying, given how hard weíd been working and how restless my nights, that I was too tired to know if weíd adequately supported the interior ceiling. Each supporting member we chopped away threatened the stability of the wall. On its own, the two stories had sagged to form a dip in the kitchenís hardwood floor.

Chris, an accomplished hammerer, continued, ìIf we finish it today, we wonít have to do it Monday.î

At some point I began asking myself the same thing you are. Who is the boss and who is the worker? Whoís the parent; who is the child? How did this child become so responsible?

I weakened.

ìAll right. Okay. I give. But grant me one wish. Letís first finish those clapboards ( I pointed to a space between the sliding door and the window). Then we can tear out the header and hope the building doesnít collapse.

ìIf we donít start now, we wonít finish by the end of the day.î


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From last night’s concert at the Fleet Pavilion.
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Lickle Rum Shop

No word from the peripatetic pair.
I assume they are squirreled away in the hold of a cargo ship bound for a life of white slavery in Shanghai, or too busy to write.

In the meantime, from the August issue of Poetry Magazine:

Skin Teeth

One good Friday night I come home-
tired bad-and I canít find me children
or me husband. The house quiet like somebody dead.
I call up he best friend. He say the children
wid the woman up the road, but he donít know where
they father be.
Or maybe he just donít want to tell me.
So I jump in me car and drive up Monkey Hill.
I gon catch him, the bastard. I park behind he jeep
and take me blessed time an let the air
our of one–two–three tires.
Then I walk in the stupid lickle rum shop
as if is me who lay down the foundation
and is me who pay the rent. And I see him
holding some girl hand. Laughing like the world canít end.
As soon as the little squeng see me
she up like she ready for war.
But I is a big woman–canít bodda fight
wid pickney who donít understand what is mine is mine,
I smile broad wid alla them.
Then I pour he drink over he head, and tell him never
leave me children with nobody again.

Neisha Tweed

News From Managua

Now that Chris religiously leaves his autodialing phone in the truck, when I ask him for the time he’ll respond by saying, “I don’t have my cellphone.” Never, “I don’t have a watch.” Before the dynamic duo departed for Managua, Diane asked Matt to please send her Betha’s last name. Instead he sent her Bertha’s cell phone number.

At 2 AM last night, Diane blurted out, ”They got pictures with the president.”

Assuming she was blithering in her sleep, I replied, “ That is fantastic.” I was tempted to probe her unconscious with more questions, but before I could, she added, “Hil’s sick. When I got up to go peeps I checked my email.”

Here is Hil in full:

he stopped ignoring me as soon as i sent that. every now and then one of us gets cranky, which is just fine. nothing’s wrong or anything.

the last name is cuadra.

i’m not going to write a long email, but here’s what has happened so far:
i felt sick during classes, took a cab home afterwards. made it into my room and puked my brains out. matt called saying he’d be there in a few minutes. packed. got picked up. came here. hung out here a little. went to the presidential building. got inside. told bertha i was going to throw up. she told me to wait. i told her i couldn’t. her sister got me to the bathroom. threw up (JUST FANTASTIC, NO!?). waited for 2 hours to get a picture with a present. talked with him and got a few pictures. left. came here. hung out. ate (i had a jello. everyone else had yummy looking nica food. jealous). now i’m here. so ya. that’s life. i haven’t been sick at all and NOW i get sick. wonderful. the jello seems to be doing ok. even though the second time i only had water. whatever. i’ll get better. or something. i didn’t tell my dad i was sick sooo…. if you want you can pass along the message but tell not to worry, i’ll be fine, and if he calls i’ll be VERY ANGRY.

i love you all, Hilary

Equilibrium

Dear Matt,

Dad and I would strongly prefer that you pay Egdelina et al for the last week, as she and they were expecting you and these folks count on these fees for their lively hood. But you do need to cancel Jose Luiz Lopez.

Sounds like you’re doing a good job on planning, but you need a safe place to stay before you go to Managua, and it needs to be in a neighborhood known to be safe, so maybe you need to get back to Berthe to clarify,

Love, Mom

*****************
Howdy,

We are leaving for managua on thursday afternoon, because that is when Bertha’s chauffeur is going to be picking us up and bring us to her house… yes you heard that right. We have been invited to stay with them the whole weekend, and that includes going to San Juan Del Sur with them. They seem very nice and very well off. We are going to hang out with Bertha and her friends in Managua on thursday and friday, and then we will go to San Juan Del Sur and to the beach there with them on saturday, and i think spend the night in their house. I am pretty excited about all this and it sounds like a blast. If you have any more question feel free to ask, but i would suggest sending them today as early as possible, because im not exactly sure what time we are leaving tomorrow. You can ask me to call and that would be fine as well, call you that is.

Anyway, much love
Mateo

*****************

Dear Matt,

Mom forwarded me your latest email and it sounds like you two have hit your stride. Take advantage of it all, and have a wonderful time. I just said to Diane that you’ve crossed that fine line between, “How many more days left before I get to go home?” to, “Do I have to go home?”

Love Dad

*****************

haha,
I think we definitely hit the jackpot with whom i make friends with. I mean, who knew striking up a conversation an airport could lead to a weekend in San Juan Del Sur and Managua. It should be a wonderful time and i will definitely take advantage to it.

Haha, i was just thinking about that line to tell you the truth. 8 more days does not really seem like all that much time. Although i do miss all of my friends a lot and look very forward to seeing everyone once i return home.

*****************

*Note: No more “much love,” or, “miss you a lot, mateo,” which illustrates every parents dilemma. When they are homesick, they write effusive, lapdog letters. When they aren’t homesick, parents disappear from their radar. Which means I have to take it upon myself to reestablish that tension.

Dear Matt,

That’s the funny thing about distance and time and friends. When you first left Chris asked about you all the time. Lately, I’ve heard about Robby, Cel, Kristin,Daryl, Laura, etc., but nothing about you. Yesterday I asked Chris if he had written to you and he said,” Who? Matt? Oh, Matt, I remember him… .” I’m thinking with you charging all over Nicaragua, and our basement freezer empty of Hot Pockets, you might be looking for a whole new gang of friends when you return.

Love Dad

P.S. We have two prospective renters for your room coming today.


Yesterday morning it was raining when Chris and I arrived to finish the deck/condo work. We both pushed through that let’s-go-home-and-go-back-to-bed barrier and ended the day with a feeling of satisfaction. All done, except for the removal of a temporary interior wall we built to prevent the ceilings from sagging.

As Chris stood for a final photo-op, I exclaimed, “Chris, we did well.”

To which Chris answered, “No, we did good.”

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Time Shifts

This Weekend

i like letting you guys know what we’re up to, and it helps when it’s on the blog — we dont have to tell everyone individually! and i think matt and i realize that all our friends and family friends are here with us in spirit. when we get emails from cortney i can practically see her sitting there giggling and nodding, as she says she does. sometimes when i read emails to matt from her i sit here cracking up, matt pretending to not know me. its sweet.

Travel plans have totally changed. bertha called matt around 9 our time to tell us that they were sending their CHAUFFEUR TO ESTELI FRIDAY TO PICK US UP. let me repeat… CHAUFFEUR…. PICKING US UP. why are they doing this, you want to know? o right, because she wants to take us out to a nice restaurant friday night before we leave for their other house in SAN JUAN DEL SUR where we will swim and i’ll stay in bertha’s room and matt will stay in bertha’s brothers room. i’m flabbergasted, i dunno about you. It’s their kindness. they barely know us and yet they’re doing all these things for us! i checked with our teachers — mine said ®wow! dont pass up this opportunity! thats amazing! we can reschedule our class for tuesday. then you don’t lose any days of school and you can go and you dont have to pay for class next week!® soooooo, i think that’s what is happening. matt isn’t here right now cuz he’s takinga shower and then in 30 minutes berthas calling to tell us when we’re getting picked up. its concievable that we’ll get picked up thursday and go to the beach friday, but i dont think so. either way, we’ll check in again before we leave. we didn’t wanna call with this news until we were 100% sure about what was going on, but i think my parents will be fine with this — a safe place to stay with people who both know how to speak the language here and who are not going to let the stupid gringos (that’s us) out of their sight. i’m excited.

if you REALLY need to talk to my parents i can understand, but i am also checking in with them. i may not be homesick, and you may be sleeping like a log, but i have a feeling my dad a) misses me and b) is sleeping a lot less than you.

alright, i’m off.i havent seen the blog since thursday, i need to email lillian (the woman we know who lives in managua) about things in granada, hotel name, cost, etc, and email my madre as well.

much love, and i’m happy we’re both doing fine again, Hilary

**************

Next Week

Yes yes indeed leon was a good time, and i would tell you about it now but we have to go soon to do volunteer work, maybe later today once we get back. We do have to run something by you though. We are thinking that next monday will be our last day of class and that after that we’ll go to granada, massaya and then finally to managua, where we will stay in the quaker house on thursday night so we can get to the airport on time for friday morning. We dont want to do a three hour car ride friday morning. Anyway, just have to run this by you so that we can talk to egdelina about it tomorrow morning. It would be helpful if you could respond tonight, before ten, thanks a ton.

Love matt

**************

Yesterday

“Oh My Gawd, did you hear that?”

Had Chris looked at that back of my neck and seen those suddenly, at-full-attention neck hairs, he wouldn’t have asked.

“The thing is, we have to hear sounds like…”

“Like we’re going to die!”

“Yes, like we’re going to die. Lowering this deck pops nails, stresses joints and compresses wood, so it’ll sound as if it’s gonna fall right off the side of the building, when it won’t. At least I hope it won’t”

We had stacked enough lumber under this deck to build a suburb, and we lowered it using two jacks (one from my truck), and by removing that lumber, stick by stick. It was harrowing, but mostly because of my memory of a roof that almost collapsed on me. Chris wants me to tell that story, and I’m working on it now. The point is, memories only hang around and haunt. All right already, they might also serve to spare a teenager a gruesome death.
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Leon & Talking Pockets

As Matt drifts back to his normal, parents, I have parents ? attitude, we’re even more grateful for Hil who writes in the kind of detail that almost satisfies our hunger. Whereas Matt now throws us shoe leather, Chillin’ today, planning our three city tour for next week ending in Managua…glad you aren’t here, bye, “ Hil serves up this:

Leon was really what matt and i needed. we needed a weekend to relax, be comfortable, sleep in, go shopping, have no obligations, and that’s what we got. we went to a hotel called ®hotel los balcones® (balcones means balconies) which was under construction but very beautiful. our room had two very comfortable beds, air conditioning, hot(ish) water, and a television that had movies and shows in ENGLISH! that was really quite exciting. (it also had the news which we avoided like the black plague). we got there friday morning (after i realized that i had forgotten our list of hotels at home. ooops! but it was fine. we got in a cab, found Hotel Europa with lots of Dutch people and decided to try another place — balcones) and walked around a little. that night it poured cats and dogs. the lightening flashed every few seconds and the thunder was louder than i could’ve ever imagined. the street looked like a river. it was really quite beautiful.

that night we went to this great restaurant that (we thought) was called Taquezal. apparently our cab driver took us to someplace called Allante, but we didn’t figure that out till saturday. the restaurant was great, and had a wonderful atmosphere. they took their time with the food but it was nice to not be rushed and to just sit and wait and talk for a while. the food itself was amazing. matt got steak minon, or however you spell it, that had a delectable sauce while i got pork kabobs with onion and red pepper and we both had french fries on the side.

saturday we went for a walk and looked around at the shops. for lunch we went to a place next to the park, where the cathedral is.fairly simple food(i got a hamburger, he got ham and cheesesandwich) but it was delicious. afterwardswe went to this little hole-in-the-wall jewelry place where we got some beautiful things, and then it started to rain. just a little, not much. when it stopped we went out again and then took a cab to Taquezal. except our cab driver dropped us off at a different place. it looked EXACTLY the same except 100% different. the walls were the same color. the doorway was the same. the huge windows had the same grating/fence. the room was laid out in the same direction. there was a place to sit without a ceiling (patio, a lot of places have them) but it was NOT the place we had gone the last night. we thought about it and thought about it and finally, when our heads started to hurt, decided to leave to find what we THOUGHT was Taquezal. we left the restaurant before ordering and walked outside and decided, for the hell of it, to go around the corner. and there, in front of us, was the same guy who stood outside the restaurant from the night before and when we went in it was the same place. apparently, we had gone to Allante the night before, which is in the same building as Taquezal and looks exactly the same except smaller. it was way too confusing for either of us to handle. again we got amazing food at Allante (steak for both of us. mmmm) and then went back and watched a movie.

sunday we went for a walk and sat in the park a little. Matt went over to look at some graffiti (when translated, it said something to the tune of: Bush is the enemy of humans. die, imperial power. or something to that effect. i found it deeply amusing) and i talked a little with a nicaraguan (don’t know his name. he said it about 100 times too fast for me to catch). when i went over to look at the graffiti and take some pictures, we realized that it was a museum like place for the sandinistas. we went in and talked to a guy about the history of sandino, who lived in the20’s and 30’s, and then he talked about the civil war in the 80’s as well. it was really interesting. matt and i got posters with bush dressed up as a nazi with some stuff in spanish. we’re bringing them home, so you can see them too. sunday for lunch we went to the same place as the day before. simple but lovely. the milkshakes there were delicious as well.

for the bus home, matt had been told by his teacher that there was a bus at 3:15 that she recommended we take. it wasn’t express but it would get us here. but, when we got there at 2, everyone was telling us different things. the problem is no one REALLY knows what’s going on and will say just about anything to get you to come on THEIR bus and give THEM your money, so finally we hopped on one that we were told stopped at san islada (or something like that) and then we’d get off there and catch a bus a few minutes later to esteli. it was all very confusing, but after 3 hours on the first bus, we got off and there was a bus to esteli that arrived 5 minutes later. it took us 4 hours to get home, but it all worked out just fine.

today was a normal day. we had school and some more people moved into my house (YAAAAY! i was getting really lonely. they even speak english as their first language! weee) and then we ®volunteered® at the school. they really dont have anything for us to do. we hang out with some kids, translate a letter, then leave. but its interesting. at least 6 kids (aged 10 or 11) asked me about my nose stud, and one kid kept repeating ®regalo?® and pointing to my earrings and confusing me (regalo means present in spanish). finally i was like ®yes, regalo de mis padres (present from my parents)® and he left them alone. for about 1 minute.

i’m off now, but i’ll talk to you later. you can post this as a blog — its easier than having to explain it all again.

love and light, and i’m not homesick anymore. i’m doing well, happy, etc. much love, Hilary

***********
Tomorrow, the full text of Matt and Hil’s travel plans.


Back in Acton, work continues at Pearwood (Diane’s suggestion). Today we have to lower that pesky deck a full half a foot. How are we going to accomplish that safely? I have no clue. Chris, remember your running shoes. In the meantime, another vignette:

Talking Pockets

“Normally, my pocket starts talking. ‘Hello, hello, are you there?’ Last week, when I was at your house and you were yelling up to Matt in his bedroom, my phone called my home answering machine.”

“How much do these calls add to your monthly phone bill?”

Chris thought for moment, as if it were something he had never considered. Truth is, it had not occurred to me, but to Diane after I explained to her how Chris’s phone calls his friends when he sits on it. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of pressing against one of the speed dial numbers. The first day on the job, as we were attempting to lift one of those heavy beams, his phone rang. It was Laura returning Chris’s cell phone call.

“Maybe a lot. My phone bill last month was a hundred and fifty dollars.”

Long before I was introduced to Chris’s auto dialing phone, I got one of those calls from someone’s pocket. I picked up my home phone and listened to a conversation between three or four teenagers as they walked from somewhere to somewhere else. The scratchy sounds of cloth against the phone and their footfalls added mystery to my eavesdropping. I heard about, alcohol, the cops, girlfriends, pranks, all sorts of doings, and I waited, hidden in the pocket, for something more exciting to happen. Yes,
I had visions of a body tossed into Robby’s ideal hiding place.

Chris explained that sometimes it’s more complicated than sitting on one key. If the phone is locked, he has to first sit on the unlock key. Then he might move to the scroll key and begin to cycle through names in memory. He moves again, lets up on the scroll key, and then sits on the dial key, and voila! Robby answers. Chris’s phone calls someone about once a day, or it did until he began taking it out of his pocket and leaving it on our work bench.

As we we talked, Chris listened to his phone messages. “Hey, my phone called itself.”

He handed me his phone. Sure enough, it had left a message, and one of not too long ago. The sounds of two hammers at work: “Bang,bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, shuffle, shuffle, bang, bang, bang, remember, three nails every sixteen inches, bang, bang, bang.”

Leon & Talking Pockets

As Matt drifts back to his normal, parents, I have parents ? attitude, we’re even more grateful for Hil who writes in the kind of detail that almost satisfies our hunger. Whereas Matt now throws us shoe leather, Chillin’ today, planning our three city tour for next week ending in Managua…glad you aren’t here, bye, “ Hil serves up this:

Leon was really what matt and i needed. we needed a weekend to relax, be comfortable, sleep in, go shopping, have no obligations, and that’s what we got. we went to a hotel called ®hotel los balcones® (balcones means balconies) which was under construction but very beautiful. our room had two very comfortable beds, air conditioning, hot(ish) water, and a television that had movies and shows in ENGLISH! that was really quite exciting. (it also had the news which we avoided like the black plague). we got there friday morning (after i realized that i had forgotten our list of hotels at home. ooops! but it was fine. we got in a cab, found Hotel Europa with lots of Dutch people and decided to try another place — balcones) and walked around a little. that night it poured cats and dogs. the lightening flashed every few seconds and the thunder was louder than i could’ve ever imagined. the street looked like a river. it was really quite beautiful.

that night we went to this great restaurant that (we thought) was called Taquezal. apparently our cab driver took us to someplace called Allante, but we didn’t figure that out till saturday. the restaurant was great, and had a wonderful atmosphere. they took their time with the food but it was nice to not be rushed and to just sit and wait and talk for a while. the food itself was amazing. matt got steak minon, or however you spell it, that had a delectable sauce while i got pork kabobs with onion and red pepper and we both had french fries on the side.

saturday we went for a walk and looked around at the shops. for lunch we went to a place next to the park, where the cathedral is.fairly simple food(i got a hamburger, he got ham and cheesesandwich) but it was delicious. afterwardswe went to this little hole-in-the-wall jewelry place where we got some beautiful things, and then it started to rain. just a little, not much. when it stopped we went out again and then took a cab to Taquezal. except our cab driver dropped us off at a different place. it looked EXACTLY the same except 100% different. the walls were the same color. the doorway was the same. the huge windows had the same grating/fence. the room was laid out in the same direction. there was a place to sit without a ceiling (patio, a lot of places have them) but it was NOT the place we had gone the last night. we thought about it and thought about it and finally, when our heads started to hurt, decided to leave to find what we THOUGHT was Taquezal. we left the restaurant before ordering and walked outside and decided, for the hell of it, to go around the corner. and there, in front of us, was the same guy who stood outside the restaurant from the night before and when we went in it was the same place. apparently, we had gone to Allante the night before, which is in the same building as Taquezal and looks exactly the same except smaller. it was way too confusing for either of us to handle. again we got amazing food at Allante (steak for both of us. mmmm) and then went back and watched a movie.

sunday we went for a walk and sat in the park a little. Matt went over to look at some graffiti (when translated, it said something to the tune of: Bush is the enemy of humans. die, imperial power. or something to that effect. i found it deeply amusing) and i talked a little with a nicaraguan (don’t know his name. he said it about 100 times too fast for me to catch). when i went over to look at the graffiti and take some pictures, we realized that it was a museum like place for the sandinistas. we went in and talked to a guy about the history of sandino, who lived in the20’s and 30’s, and then he talked about the civil war in the 80’s as well. it was really interesting. matt and i got posters with bush dressed up as a nazi with some stuff in spanish. we’re bringing them home, so you can see them too. sunday for lunch we went to the same place as the day before. simple but lovely. the milkshakes there were delicious as well.

for the bus home, matt had been told by his teacher that there was a bus at 3:15 that she recommended we take. it wasn’t express but it would get us here. but, when we got there at 2, everyone was telling us different things. the problem is no one REALLY knows what’s going on and will say just about anything to get you to come on THEIR bus and give THEM your money, so finally we hopped on one that we were told stopped at san islada (or something like that) and then we’d get off there and catch a bus a few minutes later to esteli. it was all very confusing, but after 3 hours on the first bus, we got off and there was a bus to esteli that arrived 5 minutes later. it took us 4 hours to get home, but it all worked out just fine.

today was a normal day. we had school and some more people moved into my house (YAAAAY! i was getting really lonely. they even speak english as their first language! weee) and then we ®volunteered® at the school. they really dont have anything for us to do. we hang out with some kids, translate a letter, then leave. but its interesting. at least 6 kids (aged 10 or 11) asked me about my nose stud, and one kid kept repeating ®regalo?® and pointing to my earrings and confusing me (regalo means present in spanish). finally i was like ®yes, regalo de mis padres (present from my parents)® and he left them alone. for about 1 minute.

i’m off now, but i’ll talk to you later. you can post this as a blog — its easier than having to explain it all again.

love and light, and i’m not homesick anymore. i’m doing well, happy, etc. much love, Hilary

***********
Tomorrow, the full text of Matt and Hil’s travel plans.


Back in Acton, work continues at Pearwood (Diane’s suggestion). Today we have to lower that pesky deck a full half a foot. How are we going to accomplish that safely? I have no clue. Chris, remember your running shoes. In the meantime, another vignette:

Talking Pockets

“Normally, my pocket starts talking. ‘Hello, hello, are you there?’ Last week, when I was at your house and you were yelling up to Matt in his bedroom, my phone called my home answering machine.”

“How much do these calls add to your monthly phone bill?”

Chris thought for moment, as if it were something he had never considered. Truth is, it had not occurred to me, but to Diane after I explained to her how Chris’s phone calls his friends when he sits on it. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of pressing against one of the speed dial numbers. The first day on the job, as we were attempting to lift one of those heavy beams, his phone rang. It was Laura returning Chris’s cell phone call.

“Maybe a lot. My phone bill last month was a hundred and fifty dollars.”

Long before I was introduced to Chris’s auto dialing phone, I got one of those calls from someone’s pocket. I picked up my home phone and listened to a conversation between three or four teenagers as they walked from somewhere to somewhere else. The scratchy sounds of cloth against the phone and their footfalls added mystery to my eavesdropping. I heard about, alcohol, the cops, girlfriends, pranks, all sorts of doings, and I waited, hidden in the pocket, for something more exciting to happen. Yes,
I had visions of a body tossed into Robby’s ideal hiding place.

Chris explained that sometimes it’s more complicated than sitting on one key. If the phone is locked, he has to first sit on the unlock key. Then he might move to the scroll key and begin to cycle through names in memory. He moves again, lets up on the scroll key, and then sits on the dial key, and voila! Robby answers. Chris’s phone calls someone about once a day, or it did until he began taking it out of his pocket and leaving it on our work bench.

As we we talked, Chris listened to his phone messages. “Hey, my phone called itself.”

He handed me his phone. Sure enough, it had left a message, and one of not too long ago. The sounds of two hammers at work: “Bang,bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, shuffle, shuffle, bang, bang, bang, remember, three nails every sixteen inches, bang, bang, bang.”

Return From Leon

I have just gotten back from leon and I don’t really feel like writing about it right now because i am exceedingly tired. We traveled for about four and a half hours, during most of which we were not sure that we were going home. The stress was a bit tiring. Leon was great though, exactly what i needed, a little rest and relaxation.

Anyway, I’m off to bed.

night
mateo