#and the saturday from bus would be awful early the morning after a concert

[cesium-sheep]

-n- my brother says he might stay for the whole weekend when he comes up for the concert which on the one hand it's good for him to get away from mom's house, but on the other I think I am too tired to have Company for that long. I did warn him he may be kind of on his own for chunks of the weekend since I've been so tired.

[the-manor-7]

Soulmate au - Taehyung pt.1

[au: You dream of the place your soulmate spent the most time in that day.]

As the alarm blared in my ear, I slammed my hand down on it and groaned at the thought of getting out of bed at this unseemly hour.  

'Why do bosses insist on their employees arriving to work at eight o'clock on a daily basis?' I seem to be asking myself every day.  

Not only was I upset about having to wake up because of the time, but because I was dreaming about an amusement park.  

Now, you might be wondering why I find this so significant.  

Well, you see, my soulmate gene allows me to see where my chosen partner has spent most of their time that day.  

And it just so happened that mine was hanging around a particularly fun location.  

They always seemed to be somewhere interesting. I was beginning to wonder whether or not they were a celebrity of some sort. They were either at a dance studio, a dorm, or a concert hall most of the time.  

While I, on the other hand, spend most of my time in a cubical (during the week) or my house (during the weekend). They probably know their way around both better than I do at this point.  

I felt bad for my soulmate. They led such an interesting and exciting life, and when they went to sleep, which is supposed to be when you have dreams of magical lands or the sort, they were stuck in stagnant landscapes. A cubical or a tiny apartment.  

Sometimes it would probably change to my friend's or parents' house, but that was most likely the only variety they got.  

Nothing compared to their everyday lives.  As I lamented about my situation (I may be exaggerating), I got up and got ready for the day: eating breakfast, taking a shower, getting dressed, finishing my makeup and hair.  

Grabbing my purse and doing one last check to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything, I made my way down the stairs at the end of the hall, out the main doors, and stopped right outside the sliding-glass door at the bus stop. 

I checked the time on my phone as I waited impatiently for the vehicle to get here.  

It eventually arrived, with me quickly climbing on and plopping down in the nearest seat.  

On the way to my office-building, I stared out the window as the scenery rushed by, becoming a blur as I spaced out, thinking about some random topic.  

About twenty minutes later, the bus came to halt in front of my work and I shuffled off, grabbing my purse in the process.  

I scanned the card-key that was attached to my belt on the receptor and walked through after the door opened with a click.  

As I climbed up the stairs to the third floor, I passed one of my coworkers, Gabriel.  

"Hey, Crystal!" She smiled at me, "Do you have that report done yet? My manager is getting anxious." She gave me an apologetic look.  

I shook my head, "I'm sorry. It's almost done, though. I'll just need a few more hours." 

She nodded, "That's fine, then. Just please don't take to long? You know how she gets."  

I frowned, knowing all too well, "I'll try my best. It'll help if someone keeps Mr. Leston off my back though. He's been breathing down my neck lately." 

"I'll try to keep him distracted" her phone started ringing, "Oh, have to answer this. I'll see you later!" 

She didn't wait for a reply as she continued on her way down the stairs.  

I sighed, thinking about the amount of work I would have to cram into a couple hours.  

Just great. My soulmate is definitely going to be looking at my cubicle tonight, and they are probably going to see my report too.

How exciting.  

Trudging up the stairs, I wound my way through a maze of desks and people hard at work to finally stop at mine.  

I dropped my purse onto the floor next to me as I slumped into my seat and quickly logged into my computer, pulling up the dreaded document. 

*** 

I groaned, exhausted after a full-day's work and drug my feet as I climbed up the stairs to my apartment.  

I cannot wait to just fall into bed and finally start dreaming about pleasant things.  

I made quick work of getting ready for bed: I changed, brushed my teeth, washed my face.  

And once I collapsed onto my bed, I pulled the blankets over me and fell to sleep.  

My dream this night was different.  

Maybe that is due to sleep deprivation, I do not know.  

But, tonight, I could hear voices. 

Faintly, but I could hear them.  

I found myself located in a small café, sitting at a larger table.  

The voices I heard were talking about an upcoming concert, it occasionally strayed to another random topic, but it always came back to that.  

Suddenly, I could hear one voice louder than the rest, "Hyung?" 

There was a pause where another faint voice replied.  

"Can we come here again tomorrow?" 

The faint voice answered again, this time agreeing.  

The person with the louder voice smiled.  

Don't ask me how I know they did, I'm still questioning that too.  

After that, the voices died down and soon, faded out completely.  

I rested my head on my hand, contemplating the whole situation.  

Why was I shown this place tonight? And why could I hear voices? 

When the realization hit me, I just about hit my head on the table out of frustration.  

Why did it take me so long to realize? Again, I don't know.  

I rushed around to find any indication of where I was located, but found nothing.  

Once I paused to sit down after my fruitless search, I saw something outside out of the corner of my eye.  

It was a street sign.  

I rushed over to the window and read the sign, trying to devote it to memory.  

It read: Lexington Ave. And the one right below it said: E 91st Street.  

Before I could celebrate too much, I was pulled from my dreams and forced awake because of who knows what.  

But whatever force did, I was thankful because I don't know how long I would be able to remember.  

I quickly grabbed my phone from my nightstand and punched in the digits I had forced my brain to memorize.  

It pulled up a map of New York, Manhattan and I just about screamed.  

I live in Greenpoint, which is across the East Side river from the small café.  

I whipped around to look at the clock and read the time: 7:30.  

Since when did I ever wake up that early? 

I was lucky that today was Saturday, and not a weekday, otherwise I probably would have had to either miss my chance at meeting my soulmate or skipping work.  

Quickly, I got ready for the day.  

Except today, instead of wearing my normal work attire, I pulled out a light blue dress with cherry blossoms that I hadn't worn in months, white heels, I put clear studs in my ears, and curled my hair, putting it up in a half ponytail.  

Checking to see if I smudged any makeup (I didn't) I quickly grabbed my purse and headed out the door.  

As I waited for my normal bus I realized, I wouldn't get off at my normal stop, I would go past it!  

Now that definitely feels strange.  

Once my ride arrived, I hurried to board, with a lot more energy that usual.  

The bus driver that I have seen almost everyday for the past six years (I'm pretty sure her name is Pat) raised an eyebrow at me and smiled, "Well, aren't you looking bright this morning, Miss Davis? What is the occasion?" 

I grinned as I sat down in the seat behind her and met her eyes in the rear view mirror, "I had a dream last night." 

"Oh, really?" She looked up at me after she turned a corner, "About what?" 

"My soulmate." 

"Oh, dear! That's wonderful!" When we stopped at a traffic light, she pulled up her sleeve and showed me a tattoo of a tiger, "This is mine." 

I leaned over the seat to look at it, "Have you found them yet?" 

She laughed before pulling her sleeve back down and continued driving, "Now, Miss Davis, I am nearly sixty. It would be awful late if I found my soulmate now." 

I giggled (something that I don't think I've heard since high school), "You're right." 

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes before she spoke up again, "Where are you going today? Not work, I hope." 

I shook my head, "Nope, I'm getting off by the ferry today. I need to head over to Manhattan." 

"Oh, of all the places!" She chuckled, "You're a lucky one, now aren't you?" 

Once she pulled up to my desired destination, she called after me as I climbed off the bus, "Have a good day, Miss Davis! I hope you find them!" 

I looked back and waved at her, smiling, before turning back around and walking over to stand in line for the ferry.  

Even though I've only been here a couple of times, since my work is on this side of the river, I found it surprising busy at the pier.  

Shrugging it off as it just being a Saturday, with usual New York traffic, I hurried onto the boat in order to get a seat.  

The ride was uneventful, except for the fact that I offered my seat to this sweet older lady who gave me a piece of candy in return and called me 'shmoopsipoo', that was basically it.  

When the vehicle pulled up to the dock, I exited the boat and quickly made my way down the boardwalk and to the nearest bus station.  

I quickly hopped on the bus and silently urged the driver to go faster. I have places to be and things to do.  

Even though it felt like forever, in actuality, it only took about twenty minutes, and I was to the final stretch.  

I speed-walked towards the cute little café and once I arrived, I practically burst through the door.  

Quickly, I took in my surroundings.  

It looked exactly the same as it had in my dream. The large table was there, the poster was in the corner, even the baby plant was by the register.  

However, to my disappointment, I didn't see the group of people that I had heard in my dream.  

Resigned to my fate of waiting, I walked up to the counter and stared up at the menu.  

Deciding that I didn't like coffee, I ordered black tea, barely steeped. I made sure to emphasize the last point.  

I took to a seat by the window plopped down in it, slinging my purse over the back of the chair.  

When the barista came around with different people's orders, I grabbed mine and took a hesitant sip.  

To my faint astonishment, I was pleasantly surprised. They had gotten my order right.  

As I stared out the window, the door opened, ringing a bell that was attached above it.  

For whatever reason (unbeknownst to me) I payed it no mind. I just kept people-watching and staring out the window.  

It wasn't until one of them bumped into me that I payed any attention to them.  

In slight annoyance, I turned around to face the offender, who quickly bowed and spoke a quick apology before straightening and smiling at me.  

Because I thought he looked kind of cute, I smiled at him, "It's all right." 

His eyes widened and he stared at me, "Say something else." 

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Excuse me?" 

His eyes lit up and he ran over to a male that was slightly shorter than him, "Hyung, hyung! It's her!" 

The light-green haired man looked over at me, then back at his friend, "Are you sure?" 

The original man nodded, excited, before dragging the other guy over to me.  

He let go and beamed at me, "Hello, soulmate!" 

All I could do was stare at him.  

He was a gorgeous man, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, he looked to be of Korean heritage, and wore a permanent smile on his face (that kind of looked like a box).  

It wasn't until he reached out and hugged me that I realized I was crying.  

"Ah, don't cry!" He said into my hair.  

I just sobbed harder as I wrapped my arms around him.  

He laughed and let go, looking at my face, "My Jagi is a crier!" 

I laughed (which was kind of weird, I was still crying), "Oh, be quiet. I'm not usually like this." 

He smiled at me before thinking a moment, "Hey, Jagiya?" 

"Yes?" 

"Come with me to Korea?" 

"Right now?!" 

"Yes!" 

Oh, great. It looks like I have a hyperactive soulmate.  

He's a cutie though! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments/requests!

Thank you,

The_Manor

Masterlist

[mcrmadness]

DIE ÄRZTE @ Warsaw, Poland on 16.5.2019 (text/photo post)

I was there. It was my first DÄ concert. A crazy Finn who traveled all the way to Poland from Finland to see a German band live. I regret nothing! :D I’ve been a fan of this band since April 2009 so this was also basically a 10-years anniversary for me. Beware, this is gonna be a long post.

It’s crazy what just one band can make a person to do. I’m nearly 28 years old and I had never ever been to a plane before. I was convinced for years that the first plane I step into, will crash down. Well, I was to 4 different planes in 5 days and none of them crashed down. Before I had also been only to Sweden once and Estonia once, and now I can also add Poland to the list, and Latvia because of the Riga airport. The flights were terrifying, the first one was so terrifying I was worried how I’ll get anywhere from Riga as I no way can go into another plane ever again. But I still did, because we needed to get to Poland. And I’m glad I did, cos the second flight was not so bad and the two flights back home were even less bad. I’m still not a fan of planes or flying, but I guess I’ll be able to do that again if needed.

I didn’t really see the city, even tho we went there on Tuesday and left on Saturday, we still didn’t get to the city. But it didn’t and still doesn’t bother me, because my main thing WAS Die ��rzte and all my focus went on that. The weather was awful there, just raining 24/7 but on Wednesday we still decided to walk to the venue to make sure we know how to get there the next day.

There it was!!! And we just walked around the streets in this area, just for fun and to observe this part of the city.

“Farin wouldn’t fit to walk under that branch!!!” was what my brother said when we saw this tree while walking :D

So we were just walking around while it was raining, visiting food stores (and always a different one as we succeeded at being embarrassing in every previous one), one “cosmetics” store where we found an older man who knew a bit of Finnish but thought at first that we were Hungarians :D That was interesting because the languages ARE language relatives but still I cannot understand other ugric languages; but apparently they do sound similar for the ears of people who don’t speak these ugric languages as their native language.

On Thursday I woke up basically in panic. My brother had forgotten to turn off his alarm clock and it went off at 7am which woke me up. I was covered in sweat, hungry, thirsty and my stomach felt awful and I was afraid of having a diarrhea finally from the water, but apparently it was just my normal “stress/panic stomach” but I was not able to fall asleep anymore. I felt like throwing up and I was in full panic mode basically and that’s when I wrote the panic-post about the gig here too. We still managed to get ourselves out of the building after 13 o’Clock and walked to the venue, where I met several awesome people (all German of course, I feel like we were probably the only people there speaking English [and Finnish] :DD). We waited in the line for hours and at least I had a blast. I was bit scared of it at first because of my neurotic nature but it went better than excepted and I didn’t run into single annoying person there. And I got a tour t-shirt which is my treasure now and I’ll protect it at all costs :DDD

The gig itself was so awesome. Already in the beginning the air felt very bad tho and I was sweating like what, at the times I already wished for the gig to be over so I could get outside where it’s good air and not so hot, but then something in my head just said “WHAT are you wishing for???????” as in no way I wanted that gig to ever end either, you know :D Soon I got over that and once the gig really started, I was just enjoying what I saw so much I didn’t feel nor notice anything else. I’m very short but I was lucky to not have 5000m tall people in front of my the whole time. Just once there was a guy as wide as he was tall too and because of him at the times I only saw glimbse of Farin’s head, but most of the time I saw pretty well at the stage and I was able to see the whole band with my own eyes :D I always film at concerts because I also get to see the concert from a better angle when my hands are 50cm above my head. But still there’s always people who block the view even from the camera, so you can imagine how my point of view is usually backs of heads and bit of the band too.

Here is the only photo of the concert itself as I filmed everything with my camera but I just needed to have at least one photo to my phone too, and this was it. It looks as if we were really far away but it sure did not feel like that. It’s the wide angle of my phone making that look like that, but I swear I could see Farin’s facial expressions and everything so clearly even tho we didn’t even stand in the front row. I’ll be making another post about the videos, but just wanted to keep this as a small “travel blog post” and also talk about the gig a bit, as I was requested by someone to do so :)

So, the gig. What can I say? It was awesome :D I was so nervous and in panic in the morning I thought I’ll die, but it was all gone when we got into the club. Usually the feelings also hit me after the concert when I’m back at the place I’m staying overnight, but not this time. I was so full of addrenaline and endorphines (even tho it doesn’t show as I don’t really move, I just stand still and watch the concert) that I was just smiling and being hyped the whole time, constantly just thinking and remembering the concert, watching video clips from my camera and I couldn’t sleep until it was like 4-5 in the morning. And same continued the next day. It was so incredible feeling because normally I ALWAYS have a nervous breakdown after concerts but this one seemed to do the opposite and I was feeling just better than ever and it kinda returned my “faith” in my concert visits because I often have felt like dying at gigs and I always ask myself why I do this, when it feels so bad and good at the same time, and yet I always go to gigs to feel like dying. This time I felt like I was alive and not dying at all. Maybe I was feeling like dying enough because of the planes and the gig was much more safer experience as it was not my first gig, even tho it was my first DÄ gig :D And even in a different country! With people who were not fellow Finns! I still can’t believe it how good it felt because I have NEVER felt so good after a concert! I never had the nervous breakdown after this gig and I have had it after every other gig I’ve ever been to (okay my list only has 6 of them so far, and the first gig I was to was in 2007), so this kinda gives me hope that maybe I’m starting to get used to the feels and maybe I’ll not have so strong nervous breakdowns in the future either. Who knows.

And the setlist was great. So many awesome songs and I can’t believe I’ve now heard some of my fave songs live! And I still can’t get over “Klaus, Peter, Willi und Petra” :D Felt so special to be in Warsaw as they played it live for the first time since 1985 and that song is good! :D

Friday was pretty much a day when we just slept. Or tried to sleep. I was up again too early, I just cannot sleep in in foreign places. And I felt like staying at the flat, not going out nor speaking to anyone. I was so tired of translating Polish with Google Translator offline when I don’t speak a word of polish, so tired at trying to talk English with Polish people who don’t speak much English and just trying to make sense of everything. I survive with English but it’s just incredibly hard to think and speak in English and at the same time try to pronounce well and come up with phrases that don’t sound like I have never studied English in my life. It’s just so difficult and I think the problem isn’t my English but just my social skills and overall personality because I cannot speak even proper Finnish when in social situations as I get nervous and forget how even my own mothertongue works. We still tried, but didn’t get to the city as first it was raining and thundering, next ticket vendor did not work, second ticket vendor had a broken paper money part and I didn’t understand how the card works; and didn’t want to go into a bus if not understanding how the ticket vendors there work either so we decided to walk to this shopping mall 5km away instead.

We spent some time in the shopping mall, buying something too and then left before the closing time. This time I could get a ticket vendor working and we traveled back to our place by busses. I wish I would have learnt to use the tickets before Friday evening as we had to leave from Poland the next morning pretty early. But at least I know how to use them when we visit Warsaw again one day...

The next morning we took a taxi to the airport and started our journey back home. We were finally at home at 23.00 Finland time. Warsaw was great, Die Ärzte was am (is!) amazing and I’m gonna keep remembering this trip for a long time! And if it’s up to me, this can’t be my last DÄ concert! I need to see them again one day!!! :D

Good bye, Warsaw!

Aaaaaaand back in Finland. What an experience this whole trip was! Thank you Warsaw, Die Ärzte and all the people I met at the gig!

[our21stcenturyodyssey]

Magmarvelous Nicaragua

Itinerary:

Day 1: Land in Managua, transfer via private driver to Granada

Day 2: Walking tour of Granada and evening tour of Masaya Volcano

Day 3: Isletas boat tour and visit to chocolate museum

Day 4: Transfer back to Mangua for flight

Our Odyssey:

Nicaragua was our second trip as part of our winter escapes to Central America (our first was Belize, back in January and our third, to Guatemala, is coming up next weekend!), and even though Belize and Nicaragua are very geographically close, we found the countries to be surprisingly different from one another! Nicaragua is the poorest country in Central America, and, though it is also the safest, it looks and feels a bit rougher than Belize. Nicaragua is also predominantly Spanish-speaking, while Belize is English-speaking.

Nicaragua was also much, much cheaper -  for $80 per night in Caye Caulker, Belize, we got a small apartment with one bathroom, one bedroom, and a living room. For about the same price per night in Granada, Nicaragua, we got what was essentially a mansion - several bedrooms, each with a bathroom, an expansive living room with vaulted ceilings, an open air courtyard area served as the kitchen, and in the center was a pool (yes, a pool in the kitchen). Upstairs we had a terrace with a garden and views over the city and nearby Mombacho volcano. Basically, we were living like royalty, and while we loved getting out and exploring the city and surrounds, we also really loved hanging out in our lavish apartment.

Yep, that’s a swimming pool in our apartment!

We got in late Thursday night to Managua, the country's capital and home to the major international airport. From there we had a transfer to our apartment in Granada that our Airbnb host arranged for us. We stayed up for a bit exploring our new digs and settling in, then picked one of the bedrooms to sleep in.

The next morning, we naturally woke up early and decided to venture out for a walk around the city and a bite to eat. We walked to the Central Park, where the famous Granada Cathedral is located. One thing most people don't know about this park is that it actually used to be a cemetery, and all the bodies were moved across town. I wonder if it's haunted…

Nicaragua Cathedral

Being out just as the city was waking up for the day was so peaceful and lovely - something we would later see is a stark contrast to the city at night. We found a lovely little restaurant with fresh juice and a big traditional breakfast of rice, beans, eggs, cheese, plantains, bread and fresh coffee. We fell in love with Granada just sitting there people-watching, eating, and loving on the cute stray dog nearby.

After breakfast, we headed back to our apartment, where a guide would be meeting us at 9:30am for a tour of the city. Normally, I like to find self-guided walking tours for cities we visit, but being only $20/person for several hours, and not having a guidebook to the lead the way, hiring a guide for the morning was the best way to make use of our brief time in Granada.

Open air courtyards in the middle of colonial homes in Granada were (and still are) an important way to keep cool air circulating within the homes.

Our tour started at the Xalteva Cathedral, a colonial-era church that sits across from a lovely park that used to be the site of one of the early markets. We visited a second church - the Iglesia la Merced, which dates to the 1500s but has been destroyed and rebuilt several times since. The church has a bell tower that visitors can climb up, affording a fantastic view over the city, from the volcano to the iconic Granada Cathedral.

Xalteva Church

Iglesia la Merced

Atop the bell tower of Iglesia la Merced

We then proceeded to the Central Park and Granada Cathedral, already much busier than it had been earlier. During our tour we also learned about some of Nicaragua's post-colonial history where the US engaged in some not-so-kind behavior (backing cruel and corrupt dictatorships, invading and occupying for several years, for example). Our tour also took us to a museum at the Convento San Francisco (an old monastery). We were really happy to have a guide with us at the museum, since there was not a ton of information available in English.

After the museum visit, we had a bit of a surprise - a horse-drawn carriage was waiting for us outside the museum. This wasn't great for us, since I feel uncomfortable using animals this way, and Tim is allergic to horses. But we got on, because what else could we do? We rode around the city and got to see the old fortress, train station and the second hospital in Granada (which is dilapidated and being renovated for another purpose). Horse-drawn carriages are very popular with tourists in this city - you can find them lined up waiting all around the Central Park. But they are also used by locals for transportation and carrying farming materials. I had conflicting feelings about this - somehow, it felt okay to me to use these horses as part of the livelihood and transportation for a family, but exploitation by tourists felt frivolous and excessive. But at the same time, the people who earn a living giving these rides to tourists are as reliant on it for their livelihood as those for whom this is their main transportation. I saw contradictory emotions within myself on this topic, and they are feelings I haven't yet resolved.

After the tour we had some downtime to go to the grocery store and grab items to make lunch. It was a leisurely afternoon lounging in our apartment before being picked up for the most adventurous part of our weekend - visiting the very active Masaya Volcano.

Volcanic haze 

The volcano was about 40 minutes away, and due to its popularity, visitors are permitted up to the rim of the caldera in groups and are allowed to stay for up to 15 minutes before departing to make room for the next group. Though we had to share space with many others overlooking into the caldera, it was one of the most memorable and mesmerizing sights I've ever witnessed. It is second only to the northern lights. From 400 meters above the surface of the lava river, we could witness the powerful sight, smell and odor of red, gurgling magma. I love our photos from this experience, but have to admit they don't do it justice.

Me and Tim at the Masaya volcano

Later that evening, our throats were scratchy and chests congested - we realized that just 15 minutes breathing in those toxic fumes had us feeling pretty ill - I can only imagine how this impacts the rangers at the national park who stand up there daily for hours.

Upon returning to our apartment and showering up, we ventured out for dinner. There was a free concert going on in Central Park, which we stopped to watch for a few moments before heading down the main street towards Lake Nicaragua. Near the end of this road, too, was another free concert. It was really exciting to see this city coming alive with free art events for the community.

We ended up stopping for dinner at the same place we had had breakfast - breakfast had been so delicious, we felt it was a safe bet. Unfortunately, the peaceful, serene scene of the morning had given way to the chaos and crowds of the night. What was worse, though, were the young boys who came up to our table asking for a bite of our food. We'd been casually tossing scraps to the dog we had met earlier that morning, and I felt awful sitting there with more food than we could heat and saying no to giving any to the young boys. I was overwhelmed - while Tim and I had been in impoverished countries before, it had been a while since we had been confronted with this level of begging from children. We'd read that the humanitarian groups in the area discourage giving the beggars food, since in most cases they are being exploited by adults. Sure enough, we later saw one of our begging boys taking something intravenously with a group of young men. My heart broke for this poor boy and the awful situation he's in. I knew then that it wasn't mere food that he needed, but instead a total way out of his current situation.

My mood was pretty low after this experience, so Tim and I went back to our apartment (we also had an early morning the next day).

At 6am on Saturday, a bus arrived to drive us to a ferry where we cross part of Lake Nicaragua to reach Ometepe Island. After about an hour on the road, however, our guide told us that due to strong winds, the ferry was not going to be running and that the tour would be canceled. We were disappointed but weren't going to let it ruin our time, so we inquired about other tours they could offer us for that day instead. Once back in Granada, we were signed up for a late-morning motor boat cruise of the isletas of Lake Nicaragua - small islands off the coast of Granada that were formed when the Mombacho volcano blew off most of its cone thousands of years ago. There are 365 of them, most privately owned, many converted into Swiss Family Robinson style jungle homes.

During our ride, we saw many species of birds, including one resourceful egret who was riding on a bull's back along the shore of the lake. We also saw a very sweet, active monkey, and were heartbroken to see he was tethered to a leash. Again, I was confronted with my discomfort of seeing animals used for human entertainment, but at the same time could not succeed in reconciling my discomfort in this situation with my relative comfort with seeing dogs on leashes. We did, however, come upon a "Monkey Island" which is home to many spider monkeys. Our guide gave us each a small cookie to feed them, which, yet again, made me wary. With the number of tourists coming through each day offering these wild monkeys manmade food, it must not be good for them. Tim and I opted against feeding cookies to the monkeys, but did enjoy getting close with our boat to observe their sweet faces and swinging bodies through the tree branches.

Spider monkey

Our boat also stopped at an old Spanish colonial fort on San Pablo island which was  built in 1789 to protect against pirate attacks. Now, since the island is in a large lake, you might be wondering how the pirates were getting there. There is actually a river that connects the Atlantic Ocean with Lake Nicaragua, so pirates would sail in that way.

Mombacho volcano as seen from Lake Nicaragua 

It was a nice, easy-going tour and we were back at our apartment by the early afternoon. After lounging around, playing card games and watching some TV for a few hours, we decided to venture out on one last Granada walk. We looked at Trip Advisor to see any places that would be interesting to us that we hadn't already done yet that were also open, and saw that there was a chocolate museum near the main square!

We walked to the museum and were greeted by a very enthusiastic young man who worked there. He said he could give us a free tour of the museum that would include free samples at the end and we could just pay a tip. Although the shop was going to be closing in about an hour, this man did not have the waning energy of someone who had been working all day. He was so excited to tell us about chocolate in Central America!

After the tour, we had samples (the best part) - a chocolate tea (we bought two bags), a brownie (we bought one of those too), and about 5 shots of various chocolate liquors (we bought a chocolate mixed drink and a chocolate beer). From the free samples plus the two drinks we bought, we were pretty tipsy by the end! Admittedly, we did not expect to spend our time at the chocolate museum getting drunk!

Goodies at the chocolate museum! 

That evening, back at our apartment, we cooked dinner and relaxed- the next morning would be back to the airport and onward to Atlanta and the normal work week!

[laurensdy]

Full disclosure: this post is both the longest and the most spontaneous I’ve done so far, after an exhilarating stay in the nation’s capitol—both to observe the Inaugural landscape and to attend the Women’s March on Washington. Hopefully that explains the excitable, rambling syntax.

In the last weeks of 2016, I created matching signage and t-shirts—for myself, my aunt who also drove from New York to D.C., and my sister who lives in a nearby Maryland suburb—that featured the “feminist fist” and poignant quotations from iconic minds. I pored over the choices for quotes for weeks, wanting to summarize our purpose for marching but also represent a variety of people, of women.

I chose a Wilma Rudolph quote for the shirts: “The triumph cannot be had without the struggle.” I ended up using permanent marker to write the names of my female ancestors on the sleeves, both living and passed, who couldn’t be with us on the march. I wrote the names of my mother, older sister overseas, younger cousins—and even the “founding mothers” of the Women’s Rights Movement on one side.

Only one man was represented on the four matching 2×3’ signs, in Albert Einstein’s “Great spirits will always be met with violent opposition from mediocre minds,” carried by my sister. My aunt carried Eleanor Roosevelt’s “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” Her best friend trekked from New York City with her husband on his birthday, and he received a rousing version of “Happy Birthday” on the Metro ride into the city that morning. She carried Malala Yousafzai’s “We cannot succeed when half of us are held back.” I a line from Sojourner Truth’s powerful speech ‘Ain’t I a Woman?’ “Where there is so much racket, there must be something out of kilter.”

Since I was in town early, I was able to wander around the Mall during the days leading up to the Inauguration. Streets were blocked, secured, sound-checked and fenced off well in advance, large crews working to set up bleachers, Porto-Pottys, and patriotic pomp associated with the induction of our next leader. The Lincoln monument was nearly buried under audio scaffolding and white folding chairs for the “Make America Great Again” welcome concert, and the Capitol building property was a labyrinth of bike-rack-barricades. The general forecast was gloomy, drizzly and overcast, which felt appropriate.

I practiced the route from the rally point to the train station where a coworker would arrive on Saturday morning, strolling past the vast office buildings for the staff and members of the House and Senate. I wondered where I was in relation to the members who, at that moment, sat in Cabinet nominee hearings. I thought about the thousands of suffragists who had marched before President Wilson’s inauguration, advocating for women to have the right to vote, just over a hundred years before this moment (I’m confident others were reminded of this coincidence, given the number of signs I saw reading “I can’t believe I still have to protest this shit.”).

The day before Inauguration, supporters of the incoming administration descended en masse. Souvenir stands of MAGAtrinkets popped up overnight, and at one point I actually began singing Union Army songs quietly to myself as a coping mechanism. My aunt and I barely eluded nightfall within the Capitol District while returning to my sister’s workplace (a few blocks north of the White House). As we passed McPherson Square a protest began to gather; this location would be the site of rioting and broken windows about 24 hours later.

We stayed in on Friday night, save for going to Bethesda for an exercise class (my sister is a fitness instructor). Saturday morning came early but dry, and even by 7:30 a.m. the Metro station was crowded, growing thicker by the minute with more and more people, flowing from all directions with an unspoken connection—perhaps because everyone had the same hats. Women (and a few men!) of all ages, races and creeds chattered excitedly as the railcar carried us to Union Station, at one point singing “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” (in addition to the aforementioned Happy Birthday performance).

I’ve been to protests, rallies and marches—most at the regional and state level, but one national event—before. But the magnitude of the crowd, the diversity of the crowd, and the palpable, passionate enthusiasm was stronger than any others I have experienced. I admit I was frazzled; somewhat overcome with the mass of energy, and constantly trying to ensure the four people in my party stuck close. By 8 a.m., it was crowded enough that one second of complacency meant a momentary confused search for your loved one. Thankfully I connected with a coworker who had bused into the Station early; routed from the NY area, her bus was full of marchers, resulting in a direct/much faster route.

We were lucky to come from the direction closest to the stage, early enough to beat the true descent of the crowd. Cell service was quickly unattainable as the volume of users crashed every network. Though we crowded close together and remained standing for about four hours, we were only 20-30 feet away from the soundstage that hosted some of the most iconic voices in feminism, social justice and pop culture—smack dab in the middle of the crowd that, we learned later, was more than twice the anticipated size and filled the entire two-mile march route. I was awed by so many of the performers and speakers, but my absolute favorite was Angela Davis.

(Watch Angela Davis’ speech here.)

For hours we crept along Independence Avenue, every inch of space filled with energized, chanting marchers, thrusting their signs overhead like shields. “We will not go away, welcome to your first day.” “Say it loud, say it clear: Immigrants are welcome here.” “White silence is violence.” Love, not hate—that’s what makes America great.” My heart swelled with pride watching my sister take part in her first organized assembly, disorganized and chaotic as it was. Throngs of people sprawled all over the National Mall, Ellipse and every neighboring street, brimming over with passion and greeting each other with the instant bond that protests create.

Well after dark, we made it to Union Station where my coworker would catch her bus home. The six-hour trip would take her 24, so congested was every path out of the city. By the time we returned to my sister’s apartment, we were so exhausted we could barely move. As we turned our phones back on and plugged into the news covering the marches on every continent, I was moved. I have never seen this many people assemble before.

There’s been a lot of discourse following the March—some people think it was dumb, and others think it was the beginning of a revolution. I see it as the crest of our own wave in the ripple of movements that have come long before us—aspiring to take one more step on the staircase of progress, but knowing that we couldn’t have gotten to this step without taking the ones before it.

This is our history. We will write it.