Storms during the night knocked out the power again, but this time it would be for longer than just a few minutes or hours. We would not have power again for the rest of the trip. But, on the bright side, we were off to Playgrounds! But first, let's list the main reason I would not move to Nicaragua. POVERTY. People here are living in makeshift sheds, for the most part. Say all you want about living the simple life, but when basic necessities are hard to come by, life surely must align itself with despair more than anything else. Hopelessness becomes a way of life. Andrew says this is a so-called democracy, but it is really a dictatorship. These people deserve more than this. Signs that present themselves tell the story; skinny and starving animals who run away in fear. Kids never say thank you for anything, Andrew tells us again, disgustedly, "They just grab and run." It's survival out here, pure and simple. The roads are horrible, often impassible. No one has power, and if they do, they can't afford it. The electric company was just privatized, and electric bills are now SIX TIMES what they were. Who can afford electricity? The government doesn't care. They don't have to have the responsibilty for running it, and can enjoy kickbacks now. Flip-flop goes my stomach. I am surprised the locals don't stone us instead of the vultures. Our highest level of inconvenience and discomfort, with not having electricity, is merely that there was only one flush of the toilet this morning. But, we are off to Playgrounds now, and will leave this all behind. We are going there instead of Manzanillos because the waves have dropped a bit, and it needs a bigger swell. That's okay, more than okay, as the most fun session of the trip was just waiting for us all. When we arrived, there was already one boat on it, but only three guys out. They left soon, and then it was only us, in perfect shoulder to head high sets, some still overhead, with offshores. I heard Inside Tony say, "This is like a dream." It was just him, me, James, and Greg, as Andrew was preparing the boat for a fishing adventure, and would be out later. This photo is of Andrew. Green, sparkling, glassy walls reeled off, groomed to perfection by the light offshore winds. It was effortless, going off the top again and again. I let so many perfect rights just go unridden because the lefts were longer and bigger. We stayed out for three hours, until two boats arrived at the same time, and just as the wind had bent slightly more from the southwest, great, but not perfect. I can still hear Inside Tony yelling acoss the break at me, "You are SHREDDDDING!" That had become our mantra for the past few days. Every morning he would greet me in a high sing-song voice I loved, "Are you ready to do some SHREDDING?" It had become nearly a nuisance to the others, but was still the best thing to me, just to hear that. So, Andrew really wanted to fish. The semi-vegetarians on the boat, which included Greg, James, and I, were rooting for the fish to escape, to remain free in the great blue ocean, darting through the water, their skin sparkling in the sun. But this was not to be for three hefty Jacks, and one adolescent Mahi-Mahi. I quietly weep behind my sunglasses as the largest Jack fights for its last breath, thumping around wildly every few minutes until the end, in the dark confines of the big blue cooler. I refused to reel any of them in, but all the guys did. There was just something about the way everyone was so emotionless as they pulled the thrashing things aboard, the way the gaffing hook sunk deep inside the fishes heads, that really got to me. At one point, I said to James, "It kinda makes you not want to eat fish, doesn't it?" He nodded. If the guys felt any of what I was feeling, they hid it pretty well, all except for James. I could see he was slightly uncomfortable, and anxious to have it all over with. Finally, I said like a child, "Can we go home, now?" And the whole miserable thing was over. Andrew made fun of me, saying, "Nancy just wants to get back so she can scarf down some food!" Yeah, well, maybe that, too. Andrew just couldn't get over how great the day was for fishing, one of the best of the year so far, he said. It was a beautiful day. alright, light winds dancing over a glassy, deep blue sea teeming with life. We saw sea turtles mating. We trolled over schools of fish, and I held my breath, hoping the lines would not suddenly ZING! the sign that the hunt was on. When we got back to camp, the 4th of July party was getting started. Some hip-hop song was blaring out of speakers by the pool, being powered by a noisy generator. I had hoped I could escape the party in the cool recesses of my room. I shivered with the prospect of all the people that were coming. The lack of power worked in our favor in the end. The party was over by 9:30pm, since it had begun at 2. We slept better than we thought we would. It rained most of the night. But the end result of all the rain was the river had broken through its banks. Santana was now a dirty, muddy brown sea, and I didn't even care. When morning light appeared, I was just too surf satisfied and exhausted to care about surfing at that moment. It was time to go home, and nothing could come close to what we had experienced the day before, surfing Playgrounds, anyway. With just friends out, in perfect waves... my wish had been granted again. Life is good. Goodbye, Nicaragua...
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