ometepe

12/03/20

I have finally come to a stop. I am staying at Monkey Island hostel. Under Maderas Volcano facing the water of Lake Nicaragua. There is a sandy beach down below. Around me are fruit trees and flowers. The wind is blowing. I can choose between the rocking chair and the hammock. Sometimes a bar in the distance sends out a song. Then there is quiet again. The electricity is spotty. It can go off for a day at a time. When it comes on, people charge their phones and laptops. I charge my ereader.

I went to the service for the American volunteer. The whole island was in attendance. (except for a few boys playing soccer in a field.) People came from other islands and from the mainland The coffin was brought down from her home and we all filed into the church. The church was painted in naif figures of birds and animals on a white background. The outside , bright coloured panels. People got up to speak about Carolina. There were always 4 people standing by the coffin, one at each corner, keeping guard. Men and women, young and old would stand up to replace the 4 at regular intervals, one at a time. It was quiet and respectful. The husband sat near the front and greeted each coffin guard as they sat down.

I left the next day. It was either then or wait 4 days as the ferry goes only twice a week. I had dreaded the 11 hour journey but it was a beautiful ride. We sat on the outside deck on lounge chairs, watching the sun set, and the stars. The seagulls following the wake of the boat. At 10, I went inside to lie on a padded bench. At 12:30 am, the intercom woke me up. Time to disembark. A minibus was waiting at the dock. It dropped us off at our chosen hotel.

I was here last year but did not come this far. The island is shaped like a figure 8 with a volcano in each circle. Last year, I got as far as the isthmus. This year, I came further onto the 2nd circle. After the isthmus, the road deteriorates impressively. It takes an hour to do several kilometres.