Pochomil

Last week I went with Gloria and Ernesto to Pochomil, which is a beach town about 45 minutes outside of Managua. Gloria and I rode in the back of the pickup truck, and I relished the clean(er), open air outside of the dusty city. The jungle-like trees made me feel like I had entered Fern Gully or Jurassic Park.


This is me post swim. I was a little hesitant to dive in because no one else was swimming, but Gloria and Ernesto reassured me that it was safe. The only reason the kids weren't swimming is because it's actually winter here. (They're cold?!?) I thought, 'The heck with it! I'm already the crazy gringa. I might as well strip to my swim suit and run out with a whole audience of Nicaraguan kids watching me.) The Pacific Ocean was as warm as bath water! I didn't go out past my waist because the tide was really strong and the waves were high. Gloria was watching me like a hawk from the beach, so I didn't stay in too long. I thought she might have a heart attack or something.
Looking out of our restaurant hut. Gloria and Ernesto and I ate watermelon and drank Cokes as we waited for our freshly caught and barbecued fish.
I could have taken a little siesta after my swim, but I was content just to sit and chat.

It would have been a great end of the day, but our drive home was stressful. It got dark by 6:00 and hurricane-like rain struck the dark roads all the way back. People on bicycles, mules, and little kids run around without any streetlights. Trees had fallen on the road and washed out bridges. The three of us were crammed in the cab of the pick up and the windshield kept fogging up. There were huge potholes in the road, and we kept having to swerve last minute. I thought I was going to lose my fish. Needless to say, I was relieved by the time we got back to Batahola.