the land ladies declaw my garden

Culture Shock and the land ladies declaw my garden

PeeWee the cat was crying like a baby and batting me about the head and shoulders early Friday morning.
I was so jazzed to be back in Nicaragua that I stayed up till after three smoking, unpacking all my new stuff and drinking water and now just three hours later PeeWee was hoping to force an early breakfast out of me and it worked. I rolled out of bed to pee….I came out of my front room onto the back porch and saw the garden. I felt like I had come home to find my son with a big black eye. Even in the soft mosquito filled light of early morning the garden gasped for life. I was warned of a forthcoming orange tree trim, the oranges were falling in the pool across the fence. But evil doer had scraped up all the baby ferns, ground covers and grasses that have been struggling thru the dry season, down to bare packed dirt, the palm frond / compost heap was gone, the palm fronds had been trimmed off the coco tree and and worst of all, the potted plants looked like it had been months not weeks since they had been watered. The once circular sour orange tree was now a perfect half circle, allowing more sunlight than every before and new scenic vistas of the big two story house behind us. Dead leaves drifted on the still morning air and formed small piles at the base of the plants….
Even potted plants right near the door were neglected. The plants must have screamed for water while they were overlooked while feeding the cat. PeeWee had found her pace and was snapping up the wiskas..I got out the hose and started to soak the garden and potted plants. It was clear that most were goners. Some of these jungle plants have great recuperative powers and this is the end of the dry season, a natural time to die back. It still seemed a real violation of my space, rented or not no one cared about that space till me and I have 3500 cordabas planted back there, watered with sweat….
It really is time to find a new place. This was an easy option for a place when I needed it.
But I think I can find a bigger / better place for more money. And since the land ladies have moved in next door it seems like I am living on the fold out couch at my aunts house in Fla….They are cheaper than me and there is a 60 day notice and a months deposit to deal with…..But as the idea sinks deeper into my heat baked brain I care less about the dough and more about the move. My neighbors across the street moved out around 11:30 at night, seems to be a tradition .Maybe the girls would like me to leave, but I am not looking forward to telling them. But I have been holding back so feeling and I might enjoy venting a little. Unlike so many of those stool moisteners at the El Quixote bar, I don’t need them to salve my aches and pains with cold beer and cheap rum..
So Saturday I meet with Don Victor, a small Indian featured gentleman of some advanced age. Don Victor is the human equivalent of the rental section of your local paper or maybe Craig’s List. He has a list of available properties for sale or rent and seems to know half the town by name.
We had an appointment for Saturday morning at 11 near Tres Mundos Plaza. It was around noon when I came back to the house to get my cell phone and give Don Victor a call. He speaks real fast typico Nica Spanish and all I understood on the phone was five minutes so I headed back to the center of town. Saturday is a half day of work for most people so the streets we getting quiet in the mid day sun. We went to just around the corner from my current place and looked a two bed two bath for 250. It was long and dark, Nicas are not impressed with the sunny blue skies and like to burrow in like turtles.
There was lot’s of room and a funny smell. It had a dropped ceiling and was just to cave like for me. A good value and the Miami Nica land lords seemed nice enough, the son even claimed to be related to “A Rod” the baseball player by marriage? Do I want to see their finca (farm) for rent just outside of tow. I regret that I said no.
The next place was around a few blocks west of my place. It is just behind what is touted as the oldest house in Granada and has been home to a succession of tourist based businesses. I have noticed this house from walking by. It has a modern façade and is painted gray with black trim. Not a typical color scheme for these parts. It was a big square inside place with a caged in open roof section overlooking the arroyo. New kitchen and tile, roman columns and five sinks, three showers and no furniture or utilities paid. Still impressive, at 4 hundred it’s fifty more than I pay now and then the utilities. If I can find a place for 250 or less I can get my own cable and internet connection, maybe satellite tv….The last place turned out to be a ways out of town but only a few doors done from Michael and Carina new place. This place had the gringo palace feel. Two story with big wide wooden doors and a second story patio. Furnished with a full kitchen, nice beds and even a spiral stair case up stairs…for the same price I pay to live in the back room and tend the garden….It was to enclosed for me. A big part of living here is the being outside and feeling the breezes. And this place would have seemed at home at a Spanish themed development in Wisconsin. But still, great bathrooms and brand new stuff, another Miami Nica landlord. Pudgy guy with sandals and Gucci sun glasses..But again no outside space of any kind. I’ve seen some 2 and three bedrooms places but they rarely have appliances

the quest goes on….

So, I have looked at a few more places for rent but it’s been a rough week here. Every day seems to get hotter. 85 this morning at seven thirty, that’s when the school marching band fired up and rehearsed a few tunes before heading off to celebrate The Virgin Mary’s appearance at Fatima. Mary appeared here in Nicaragua as well and she is probably more important here than her son. As I type it’s a little over a hundred this afternoon. The power and water outages are back. And we now have a full blown transit strike. The fares for busses and taxis are set by the government. Gas here is over $4 a gallon, diesel fuel just over $5 and how any taxi or bus driver makes a living is beyond me. Last time the government raised bus fares 12 cents there were riots in the capitol. They drivers are wanting the gov to freeze fuel prices….But the strike has forced almost all motorized traffic off the roads leaving only the horse drawn. They don’t care so much about the price of gas. But I go to Managua 3-4 times a month on the bus to buy food and the peanuts for my peanut butter. All the food here is brought in from the outlying areas as are most essential items. Private vehicles belong to the upper class. Today I saw a Hummer and a Ford Explorer parked by the Zaquan Steak House….If the strike goes on for more than a week, things will get ugly. Stores and restaurants will run out of merchandise and food. The gas stations will run out of gas….People commute on the express busses and the town to town chicken busses haul people and freight all over the country. Even the private busses that take the well off kids to their better schools are parked. Around 7:30 a.m. the streets leading to the Mercado are lined with taxis bringing the vendors and their wares to the market place. Not this week.
The strike has gotten a little ugly, picket lines with burning tires and rubber bullets. The talk is of a month long strike.
We had some rain one night last week. First rain since mid March and the tv predicts the first big tropical depression of the year will pass thru Nicaragua on Monday. Thunder and lightning of biblical proportions. Thunder so loud and close that the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up and three or four inches of rain fall in an hour to wash the streets and arroyos clean. The rains will bring back cooler weather with overcast skies and strong breezes. The plants have died back and they too are waiting for the rains…
I don’t have stomach problems here but I must have gotten a bad egg for breakfast on Wednesday. Two in the morning came and I felt like a toothpaste tube being flatten by a steel toed boot. I was explosive but ever so glad I had scrubbed down the bano earlier in the week. I couldn’t keep anything down for the next day or so. I just laid in bed and drank water. It’s better today, I had half a breakfast today and a litre of this nasty tasting “Suero Oral” It’s like a medicinal Gator Aide powder, helps you rehydrate. It’s says Strawberry Flavor on the packet but only people who have never tasted a strawberry would believe that.
Next time I’ll just get a bright blue bottle of Power Aide….