Copan Ruinas and Beyond

Making up for yesterday's "lost" day, I grabbed a 7.30 bus this morning to La Entrada, the crossroads town in northwestern Honduras where I needed to catch a transfer to Copan Ruinas.  I was checked into my hotel before noon and at the impressive Mayan archaeological site by 1.00 p.m.

This was my second trip to Copan following an August 2008 visit during which I had no camera.  Today's visit was mainly for the purpose of getting photos--in that I can report I succeeded beyond expectations.

Click the following link for a very interesting website about Copan Ruinas:

http://www.honduras.net/copan/

Apart from the thrill of again seeing this amazingly well preserved site, I can report the oddity of traveling from one of the least touristed areas of Honduras--the Ruta de Lenca which I've just traversed from Perquin to Santa Rosa--to one of the top tourist destinations in Central America. 

The village of Copan Ruinas, which I remember vaguely as a quiet, hot, dusty, and somewhat unkempt municipality now sparkles and shines vibrant with international restaurants, coffee shops and bars, a slew of hotels, and more tourists than I've seen anywhere apart from Granada, Nicaragua.  These tourists are more affluent and of a wider age range than the college age backpackers I encountered in Nicaragua.  The French seem particularly well represented here.

Readers of this blog have probably noticed that I'm not a huge fan of spending big bucks for the "touristy type" tours no matter where I go.  Anything that costs more than $20 gets a long hard look before I decide to spend.

But the $15 admission charge to these 1600 year old ruins were definitely worth the splurge for me--even for a second time.  From its Classic heyday circa 426-900 C.E. this important Mayan settlement was second only to the even more remarkable--and larger--ruins in Tikal, Guatemala.

Now that I'm only seven miles from the Guatemalan border, and a six hour microbus ride to Antigua, and since my return mission to Copan is basically complete, it's feasible for me to catch tomorrow's noon micro out of here and be in Antigua tomorrow night.  From there the famous market town of Chichicastenago is only a couple hours away and Guatemala City's airport is only an hour or so.  I will be very happy to have most of these arduous bus trips behind me.

A note about my photos:   my readers understand, as I do, that a cutting edge 21st century blog needs photos along with other up-to-date bells and whistles.  I appreciate my readers for their patience in bearing with me until I can return to the States, download the software, and upload some of my hundreds of photos.  I hope to have an excellent slide show on this blog by August 1. 

Return to Leon Via Managua and Via Via

After my encounter with Moses I cleared out of my hotel room.  My timing was excellent as I headed back to parque central with my backpack because the Managua express was just leaving and I got one of its last seats.  In Managua I transfered right away for a microbus to Leon.  Unusually, this micro was airconditioned, so it was a nice cool ride.

As we approached the city I could see storm clouds coming in, and I wondered if I really wanted to continue as far as Chinandega.  To put off the decision, I decided to take a taxi into the center for coffee.  It was only 1.00 p.m. or so and I had plenty of time to continue my journey.

But in the city we passed a hotel that I'd noticed before, having walked past it many times.  If I stay, I'll try this one, I thought, rather than go back to the "widower's" place.

That's how I found Via Via.  Though I didn't choose it from my guidebooks, it turns out this place gets very high marks from the Lonely Planet.

I like it for a number of reasons.  First, the bar and restaurant seemed very inviting.  Second, I could tell the place was popular with a certain type of young, western traveler.  Third, even though a bar was attached, the hotel was far enough away from that potentially raucous action, that it wouldn't matter to me.  And fourth, the rooms were really nice, cozy and inviting, with high ceilings, a very clean bathroom, a large bed, and (I always like this rare touch) a reading lamp!  The fan was in great shape, and the room was really big, too.  I was immediately sold on it.  Best of all, it cost only 350 cordobas.

So that's my plug for Via Via--a fine place to stay, especially if you're a traveler of a certain age, and want to meet others like you.  As an added bonus, the restaurant/bar turns out to be popular with young locals, too.  Remember Willy?  He spotted me last night where he was seated at a table with a young woman (his Salvadoran girlfriend?).  "Yo, man, whassup!"  Believe it or not, it took me a moment to remember his name.

"Willy!"  I finally said, as we shook hands.

Via Via has nice large maps on the wall of Nicaragua including a bumpy topographical one with the mountains rising out from and around the country's principal geographical features of the very large Lake Managua and the even bigger Lake Nicaragua.  The walls of the place are full of other useful and not so useful information.

According to one notice, Via Via's clientele in 2008 consisted of the following:

Europeans 53.25%
Americans 19.29%
Canadians 10.41%
Asians 6.07%
Latin Americans 5.85%
Oceanians 4.84%
Africans 0.29%

Via Via has a book exchange with volumes in English, Spanish, French, German, Dutch, and Japanese.

I met a couple Quebecois Canadians, Max and Hugo, who were watching England beat Slovenia 1-0 this morning while the U.S. beat Algeria, also 1-0.  Ghana managed to hold mighty Germany 0-0 until the 60th-something minute.

In Via Via's bar/restaurant and in the courtyard where the magnificent rooms are located, I hear the accents of other Americans (and possibly Anglo-Canadians), British, Scottish, and Europeans including Belgian and Scandinavian.  This smorgasbord of young backpackers reminds me in a nostalgiac way of my younger days as a backpacker in Europe and Asia.  What happens to our youth?!  sigh. . .

Helping Moses Stay In School

I was walking across the Granada's parque central late last Saturday afternoon when the kid caught my eye.  Later what struck me was the pure desperation I glimpsed in his eyes.

"Hey, man, hello, how are you?" he said as he approached me.  Thus began a short conversation of small talk with Moses, a 19 year old native Granadan.  He was yet another of several young local men that I met over the weekend who have an excellent grasp of English from their interactions with tourists.

Granada is the main town that kicked off Nicaragua's recently successful experience with tourism, and it shows.  There are so many hotel rooms that it's easy to find a decent one for less than $20.  And there are plenty of "touristy" type amenities such as horse and carriage rides, and restaurants--some with "international" cuisine--that have inflated "tourist prices" to match.

Unfortunately, there are also some of the more unpleasant kinds of things you find in a tourist town, such as an unusually high number of beggars, hustlers and even drug dealers.

So I was already on my guard when Moses approached me.  But he was catching me at a bad time, toward the end of a hot day, when I was on my way back to my room for a cold shower and a nap. And since I sensed he was about to pitch me for some dough, I quickly brought things to a close.

"Listen, it was nice to meet you, but I have to get going now, " I said as we shook hands.  "Maybe I'll see you again here in the center."  And I turned to leave.

Just as I turned onto the street of my hotel, I heard him calling me, half a block behind.  This I really didn't appreciate--he had followed me for a block and a half--but I turned around to face him.

He began to tell me the story of how he is a student who goes to school everyday.  "The school is free, and this is my last year, but I can't afford the cost of the notebooks. . ."  I let him speak in this vein for another 30 seconds.

"Listen," I said, "I'm sorry but I cannot help you at the moment.  Look for me again sometime later in the center, but right now I can't do anything for you."

This was true since I had only a little cash, not even enough for a coffee, on my person.  But I was annoyed that he'd followed me almost to my hotel, and that just wouldn't do in my book.   So he turned away in defeat, still with that look of hopelessness in his eyes, and we went our separate ways.

I didn't see him again on Sunday or Monday but this morning as I was having my coffee and watching the first half of the Uruguay-Mexico match, he spotted me and approached, "Hey man, how you doing?"

"I'm good, how are you?" I said as he joined me at my table.  And he began to tell me his story, that he's a student in his last year of a five year "college" (but I think he meant high school), that most of his family lives in Costa Rica.  "There is more work there, so my mother, my brother and my sisters live there to work.  It's very hard to find a job here in Nicaragua."

He said his father died eight years ago in a car accident and his mother remarried "but my stepfather doesn't like me."   In Granada he stays in the house of a friend's family "but they are very poor.  Basically I'm alone here."

He wants to visit his mother in Alajuela, near Costa Rica's capital San Jose, but he doesn't have a passport.  "I have no visa, either."  His mission now is to graduate from school where he takes "all the subjects:  history, geography, Spanish, mathematics, physics."  He will graduate in November this year, then "when I have my diploma I can start to look for a job as a waiter or bartender or..."

"Tell me about the notebooks."  So he explains that although school is free, he needs five notebooks, one for each class.  "They are too expensive."  He said he skipped school on Monday because he doesn't have anything in which to take his notes.

So I question him a bit.  "When does your school year begin?"  In January, he said.  "So since January you go without notebooks?"  No, but the ones he had are now full.  "What about your teacher?  Can he help?"  The school is already free, he said.  It's not his teacher's responsibility to come up with the notebooks.  "What does your teacher say if you go to school but without the notebooks?"  He says, Moses:  where are your notebooks?  How can you finish your schoolwork with no notebooks?

"How much do the notebooks cost?"  About 110 cordobas for five notebooks at the market, a little more than five bucks.  "That's a lot of money!"  I say, and it's true, there's no doubt about it.  It's about what we in America would pay for the same thing--maybe even more expensive than what we would pay.

"At the library," Moses said, "they are even more expensive, maybe 30 cordobas each."

Five bucks is a lot of money, I thought to myself, but if his story is true I should help him out.  Five bucks is a lot, but not if it helps a kid to stay in school.

I finished my coffee and made a decision.  "Okay, let's go to the market and buy you some notebooks."

So off we went.  It's clear Moses isn't a street kid.  He's clean but ragged around the edges.  His jeans and t-shirt are a little bit old, maybe, but they are freshly laundered.   Like me, he wears open leather sandals, but his are a few years old and worn, probably in need of repair.  I'm sure it's not just notebooks that he needs.

We approached a woman's stall where thick notebooks were stacked up.  Moses has been here before, and he knows exactly what he wants, but I'm not sure what he's asking the woman.

I ask her how much for a notebook.  "Vente cinco."  Twenty five.  So that would be 125 for five, even more than what Moses had said.

But now Moses is picking up only three notebooks, and he seems to be asking the woman for some kind of discount.  Since my Spanish is "pre-Twinkle," I'm kind of lost, but I've already made a decision, and I'll follow it through.

"One hundred five cordobas," says the woman, for the three notebooks Moses has in hand.  I pay her and we leave.  "Will this help you?  Do you have enough pens?" I ask.

"This helps me very much, " he says.  "Thank you for helping me with this.  Yes, I have enough pens."

Was this some kind of "notebook scam"?  Did he have an "arrangement" with the owner of the stall?  Why did she tell me they cost 25 cordobas, but then charge me 30 cordobas more than the 75 total that three should have cost?  The woman had been hesitant to name her price, and I had been in the dark with my limited Spanish.

But I had already made a decision, and I wasn't interested in any more details.  I didn't feel that it was useful to pursue any more info from Moses if the cost of that info required either one of us to lose face.

Besides, when he turned my way to thank me, the look of pure gratitude on his face was enough to set my mind at ease.

We walked back to the center, and we parted ways with another handshake.  "Thank you very much again for helping me with this."

"Buenas suerte, " I said to him, "Good luck in school, and maybe I'll see you again next year if I come back to Granada, and then you will have your diploma and your job."

"Good luck!" he said.  "I hope to see you here again."

An Economy Roars Back To Life

Last night I read My Car in Managua (1991), a book by an American sympathizer of the FSLN--popularly known as the Sandinistas--who worked for an aid mission in 1980s Managua.  He paints a very frank picture of how the post-revolutionary FSLN completely messed up the national economy with failed socialist policies, a lack of work incentives, and a hyperinflation that impoverished everyone and drove the most skilled and talented people to other countries.

Today it's clear that in the 20 years since the opposition came to power by election, the economy has roared back to life with the cordoba--Nicaragua's currency--stabilizing at 20 or 21 per dollar, and there are signs of a dynamic economic life everywhere in towns and cities such as Leon and Granada.

Even with the FSLN having returned to power in the past decade and with controversial, albeit popular, president and former commandante Daniel Ortega up for reelection in 2012, this economic activity appears to continue at a healthy pace.

Contrast this to the situation in El Salvador where there appears to be plenty of economic activity but perhaps not of the sort that can grow the economy over the long term.  Acording to my trusty Lonely Planet guide, a big chunk of El Salvador's GDP comes from remittances sent from abroad, principally the USA, and of that amount it's estimated that up to 80% is spent on consumption--basically for paying bills and buying groceries.  The LP writer speculates that by such dependence upon friends and family working abroad for their daily living expenses, Salvadoreans have created a sort of "welfare" economy that cannot grow over time.

In Leon, Nicaragua (Day 18)

Visiting old colonial Leon is a no brainer for me since I consider myself to be a ¨collector¨ of colonial cities in Spanish America.  Among the attractions here is the largest cathedral in Central America but the central district is dotted with surprising old buildings from history.

I decided at the last minute yesterday to forgo Perquin and focus on making some miles toward Costa Rica.  A couple buses got me to the Honduras border at El Amatillo, and the crossing was relatively hassle free.

On a very hot day I caught the slow bus for a 2 hour long trip to Choluteca in southern Honduras.  This is cowboy country with plenty of cows, horses, and the men who ride and drive them.  By now we´re also out of volcano territory and in a dryer landscape marked by short trees and scrubgrass.

Choluteca, the largest town in this part of Honduras, had everything I needed within a block of my hotel, itself not far from the bus station.  Restaurants, internet, and gloriously an espresso shack!  This morning I had the best coffee I´ve tasted since way back in Ataco, El Salvador.  Buen sabor!

Much needed aircon and not so needed TV were cut off last night with sudden thunderstorms which cooled the area considerably.

South of Choluteca on a microbus this morning the landscape changed yet again into a much more lush version of 5 or 6 different shades of green.  Cloud cover kept temperatures bearable for the travel.

The Nicaragua border at Guasaule was mercifully also very easy to cross without much bureaucratic fuss.  Seven bucks and I was in for 30 days, though the experience was marred slightly when I was grossly overcharged for a cyclo taxi.  Yet it´s the first time in 18 days that I´ve been grossly overcharged for anything, so I reckon I´m doing alright.

Another fast microbus took me to Chinandega where I connected for my final bus to Leon which is about 60 miles northwest of Managua.  The countryside here changes yet again with 3 or 4 massive volcanos visible in the distant clouds.  It´s still cowboy country but the land is much less dry than in southern Honduras and the soil appears to be very rich.  Viva la cultura de los vaqueros. . .

Leon is a premier destination for me, along with Tortuguero and Caribbean Panama, so I´m privately celebrating my arrival here.  I was so charmed by my short walk around today, I´m sure I´ll stay at least 2 or 3 days.

I have just 34 days to get back to Guatemala.  In the week ahead I plan to hit Masaya, Granada, Rivas and San Juan del Sur before I go to Costa Rica perhaps a week from today.

Hard Travel on a Rugged Coast

It didn't take long yesterday to get to the coast from the Salvadorean coffee highlands, but once I was there I discovered a largely undeveloped but beautiful region of high forested cliffs, rocky coves and small isolated beaches with big waves(but possibly dangerous undertows).

This is the back way, or the slow route, from Sonsonate to La Libertad. What I thought might be a simple day trip from the quiet fishing village of Los Cobanos (The Coves) to El Zonte beach turned out to be a half day's hard travel on local buses. In fact, I didn't even reach my destination. After a 90 minute trip the bus went down the coast only so far as La Perla where I would've had to change for another bus, but by the time I arrived in La Perla it was getting late already--I needed to be back "home" well before dark.

By the end of a very hot day (93 degrees Farenheit) I'd decided to give the rest of this coastal area a miss but only because there are almost no hotels to choose from. The dubious room I ended up with in Los Cobanos was perhaps the worst value I've encountered thus far: an overpriced $15 for a hot (and not so clean), mosquito-infested hovel with no windows, AC, TV or any other amenity. The only things this place has going for it is it's right on the beach and the attached restaurant serves an excellent $7 fish dinner.

So I made straight for the capital city San Salvador early this morning to grab what turned out to be the best value so far in a very clean $20 room at the Hotel Villa Florencia (Centro branch). This room is terrifically graced with windows, AC, TV & the other amenities! I'll be here for two days, then it's on to San Miguel in eastern El Salvador, then on to Honduras & Nicaragua.

Since I need to start making miles, I'm seriously considering booking a seat on a Tica bus--the first class airconditioned option--to go, if not to Panama City in one fell swoop, then maybe as far as Managua. I'd like to revisit the grand colonial city of Granada & the quiet little paradise of San Juan del Sur before crossing into Costa Rica.