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

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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.”