The bunny hopped home

Last Friday I had an appointment with the doctor and a meeting scheduled in Managua. I left REALLY super early so I could go meet up with a friend for the morning before my appointment. I got up at 4am to make the 5am bus. Four hours later I arrived in Managua. We met up at the market, walked to the mall and got breakfast. It was raining so our plans of going to the park/hanging outside turned into sitting in the food court for two hours talking. Oh well.

In true Nica fashion, my afternoon plans got pushed back about an hour and a half which equated to me missing the last bus to Somotillo. I didn´t fret because I was actually kind of excited to go see my family. It had only been three weeks since I last saw them but after seeing them every single day for 11 weeks 3 weeks felt like a lot!!

I took a micro to Masaya and then the bus from the new market to Nandasmo. In Nicaragua you do not pay before getting on the bus. Every bus has what is called a cobrador. The cobrador comes around during the route and collects the fare. The cobradors in all the cities/towns in the Masaya-Managua area scream really loud the destinations of their buses so that people will know which one to take. NO ONE DOES THIS IN CHINANDEGA! I actually miss the funny way that the cobrador screams ¨Nandasmo, Nandasmo, Nandasmo, Niquinhomo, Nandasmo.¨ It was music to my ears in the Masaya market as I caught the last bus to Nandasmo for the day.

I got to Nandasmo just as the sun was going down and could see from down the street that some of my cousins were sitting in front of the house. It felt good to be home! (I like Somotillo but it isn´t home--yet.) I was welcomed with lots of hugs, delicious food and shouts that my hammock was waiting for me. Im infamous in my family for spending Saturday´s laying in the hammock reading. Afterwards, one of my cousins and I went for Eskimo and walked around town. Everyone was shocked to see me back so soon, but unlike how people might react in the states after three weeks... they greeted me like I was coming home from war. Families are so close in Nicaragua that a daughter moving two blocks down the street is a tearful affair. The fact that I came to visit my family after only three weeks made me the best gringo ever in their eyes. It also means they are convinced that I am going to marry one of my cousins 5 handsome male cousins all between the ages of 18 and 28.

My whole family (all 30 of them--not including distant relatives) calls me conejita which means ¨little bunny.¨ They all laughed when my dad declared that I had hopped really hard to make it all the way home.

The next day was my sisters birthday so we celebrated with a special meal and cake. Nicaraguan cake is NOT the same as US cake. It looks similar but there is waaay more icing and the consitency is different...as is the flavor. It´s hard to explain. The first time I tried it, I spit it out. Slowly, im becoming accustomed. The cake we had for Noelia´s birthday wasn´t too terrible. My family knows that I don´t like the icing so I eat the center of the cake and give the icing to my brother.

Saying goodbye was of course sad because I most likely won´t get to see them until Christmas. Nevertheless, one night with them was better than none!