Change of plans

Megan:
As it turns out, sandboarding down the fine debris of an active a volcano requires a pretty different technique than snowboarding, but Jon and I managed to figure it out, and as you can see from the photos, we had a great time. During our hike up Volcán Cerro Negro, we had a very interesting conversation with our guide, Carlos, who has lived in León, Nicaragua all his life. He shed some light on the unstable political and economic situations in this country, and shared some disturbing recounts of the US involvement throughout their history. A serious issue here is the growing number of foreign owned businesses who do not reinvest back into the local community. This, along with other factors, has contributed to a tremendous lack of infrastructure in Nicaragua. Carlos' unique perspective on his own country gave us a lot to think about.

After saying goodbye to León, we arrived in Granada on Sunday prepared to do another week of Spanish classes while staying with a local family. Well, there has been a slight change of plans. At the end of our first day of classes on Monday, it was clear that the school wasn't a good fit for us. We didn't get a good vibe from the place or the people and Jon had some particularly bad experiences with a few of the teachers. They did a really poor job of explaining things, and if you know Jon at all, you can see how this may have been a deal breaker.

When we told the mother of our home stay family that we had decided to not continue with the program, she took it upon herself to tell us how wonderful the school was - most likely the best in all of Central America. Jon and I both feel pretty comfortable taking our chances on that one. This most recent living situation was a little odd too. While we were there, we only ate one out of five meals with the family - the other four consisted of Jon and I eating by ourselves in the quiet dining room. I think going through this process and being faced with a few confrontational conversations (some of which were in Spanish) has really been a good learning experience for both of us. It also feels good to move on.

We are now looking for a new school in a different part of Nicaragua which could begin as early as next week. In the meantime, since we were planning on being in classes anyway, we are taking advantage of the motivation we currently have to practice Spanish with each other and review old notes from our previous schools. It's amazing how much material we have from past classes that we never fully learned. I think Jon and I have spoken more Spanish with each other in the past few days than we did all last month. Here's hoping we can keep that up.

Two names on a list

Jonathan:
It's funny, trying to notice changes in your perspective is a little bit like looking in a mirror every day to determine if you're getting taller. Each day feels pretty much the same, and progress seems dauntingly slow if apparent at all. So, you have to look for the milestones-- moments of distinct gratification when you suddenly realize you can do something you couldn't do before-- like being able to reach something on a top shelf, or unexpectedly bumping your head on a door you've been through a thousand times. My personal process has not been exactly comparable to hitting my head, but the idea is the same.

In this case, our milestones are revealing themselves to us through our reactions to the somewhat repetitive trials and tribulations that seem to be an inherent part of an adventure like this-- The rugby scrum of taxi drivers who maul us as we exit a bus terminal, trying to cement their next fair by ripping our backpacks from our hands and shoving them into a trunk before we can remember how to say "get your f*ing hands off my bag" in Spanish; or arriving at a hotel after 10 long hours on a sweaty chicken bus only to discover that our room's full-size bed touches three of the four walls, and the other wall is emanating a combination of dripping and scratching noises. Three months ago experiences like these were enough to send the two of us cowering into a corner, or at least into a swanky, overpriced, American-style hotel.

It seems that in the past month or so we've developed a tolerance for the not-so-plush aspects of this kind of travel, or at least a sense of humor about them. The bitter arguments with stubborn drivers about overpriced fairs have slowly been turning into friendly conversations about how rising gas prices are tough for all of us; and the weird hotel noises provide us with an opportunity to smile at each other through the darkness before drifting off to sleep.

It's interesting though, this new found comfort with the uncomfortable has left me with a bit of an empty feeling that has been tough to put my finger on. It's almost as if our preoccupation with the trials of travel itself was keeping me engaged. Now that we no longer have to work so hard to get what we need, moving from place to place feels like... well, just moving from place to place. In a way it echos the feelings we were having in Mazatlán a few months ago when we decided the "vacation feeling" was wearing off-- Just being in a different place wasn't really doing it for us anymore. Back then we decided we wanted to make a conscious effort to engage more with the places we were visiting, whatever that meant, and at the time I remember my dad saying, "you know, there's only so much snorkeling you can do." I think he was right. It has taken us just over three months of snorkeling, hiking, diving, caving, and sailing to realize that self-indulgent side of this trip just isn't going to be enough. I think we always knew that, but I'm glad we've taken time to be sure.

We've allowed ourselves to become just two more names on an endless list of travelers who signed up to do whatever it is travelers like us enjoy doing. It feels like it's time to start leaving those two spots for someone else, and once again set out to find new ways to engage-- to shift our focus from what we can get to what we might be able to give. That is, after we go snowboarding down the ashes of an active volcano in the morning... we've already booked that one.

The tourist's tour

Jonathan:
After we moved on from Copán, the rest of our time in Honduras seemed to go by in a flash. We made our way north to the popular diving destination of Roatán where we were pleasantly greeted by my dad's former business partner, Don, who moved down to Roatán to pioneer their expat community about 15 years ago. Don was a tremendous host during our time there. Right off the boat we were treated to a thorough tour of the hard-to-reach corners of the island, and a fantastic lunch. His hotel recommendation was perfect, and our last night in town he took us out for Thai food and karaoke. We were tremendously grateful for Don's company and generosity.

Of course the main reason for our visit to Roatán was to wrap up our open water diving certification, and catch a glimpse of the island's more than famous barrier reef. The certification classes could not have gone more smoothly, a truly admirable accomplish for Megan in particular who had...let's say, mixed feelings about diving. In addition to the underwater course, we were treated to a fantastic array of chiseled reef canyons and exotic sea life-- enough to leave us both pretty excited to find more opportunities to dive on this trip. In addition to the diving we had our fill of Roatán's gringo amenities (and prices), like daily happy hours on the beach, umbrella-laden drinks called "monkey la las," and a tour of the southern coast of the island on a rented Vespa.

After making our way back to the mainland we worked our way south by way of Lago Yojoa in central Honduras. There happens to be a microbrewery there run by a guy from Oregon, whose raspberry ale was (in his own words) a welcome break from the "mosquito-piss" beers available in the rest of the country. The brewery's guest house was the base camp for our time at the lake, during which we were given a private tour of the brewery's medicinal plant garden where we sampled a number of tasty natural remedies (including a mouthful of termites, which are evidently a highly effective natural anti-histamine). We also enjoyed an early morning rowboat bird-watching tour run by a quirky British migrant named Malcom.

Our entire trip through Honduras was brightened by the company of our new friends Rose & Jochem, a Dutch couple who we met on our sailing trip in Belize. Our paths have been strikingly similar ever since we hit dry land. We have them to thank for the great beachside pictures of our diving course.

From the lake we broke for the border, and after two long days on the road we've made it to the lovely city of Leon in southwestern Nicaragua. At first glance this town (and country) seem like they are going to be a pleasure. We'll cool our heels here for a few days, and next week we are on our way further east to Granada for some more Spanish school, and another family home stay-- a nice break from the fast-paced, activity-driven, lifestyle that has us both feeling a little... well, like tourists.

Honduras... here we come, and there we go

Megan:
Internet cafes must be getting harder to come by, because as we left Honduras and entered Nicaragua on a 'chicken bus' this morning, we realized that we had not yet written anything about our two weeks of adventures in the Banana Republic. Our first stop in Honduras was Copán Ruinas where we enjoyed the charming city center, visited a butterfly preserve and explored the intricately carved Mayan ruins for which this town is named. We wondered how impressive the ruins would seem after seeing Tikal only a week prior, but we were pleasantly surprised by the detail and high level of craft. After a few days in Copán, we set out for the well known reef island of Roatán off the northern coast of Honduras where Jon & I successfully completed our open water diving certification!

We have assembled a slide show from our time in Copán, and we have a lot of photos from the rest of our time in Honduras, but unfortunately our photo server has been down for a few days. We are looking forward to sharing these along with our latest thoughts and experiences soon.

Feet on solid ground

Megan:
We just stepped foot back on land yesterday after six days of sailing from Rio Dulce, Guatemala up to the southern reef islands of Belize. After weathering about three days of a slow moving storm, we finally saw the sun - and what a glorious sight it was! The timing could not have been better because that was the day we set anchor at the most beautiful reef of the trip. I have never seen such interesting coral and beautifully colored fish. We were also able to swim with sea turtles, eagle rays, nurse sharks, barracudas and a massive wall of jellyfish that were luckily not the stinging type. The sailboat was surrounded by crystal clear water and white sand on all sides which meant we could begin snorkeling right off the boat in all directions.

Those of you who know me well realize that I had a little apprehension going into this trip. The idea of snorkeling has always been pretty intimidating - I mean who knows what's lurking in that endless expanse of salty water. During the course of this trip I was able to relax and genuinely appreciate all of the beauty that this part of the Caribbean Sea had to offer. And it was truly spectacular.

Jon and I felt very lucky to have spent our time with such a great group of people on this trip. Eight other travelers from Holland, Denmark, Australia and England - each with their own perspective on life and different motives for being in Central America. We enjoyed sharing stories during meals (which were always quite impressive considering the size of the kitchen the crew was working with), playing an innovative homemade Dutch card game in the evenings, and splashing around in the water every time the boat stopped. We had assumed that the interesting cultural connections on this trip would be with local people, but we've been pleasantly surprised by how much we have gained by getting to know other travelers from around the world.

We spent our day yesterday waiting by roadsides and transferring from one bus to the next, making our way to Copán Ruinas in Honduras. This morning we experienced our first real shower in eight days - it's amazing how the simple things can make all the difference in the world.