Well Ms. Debbie Downer of the last post has gone, thank goodness. It’s a brand new day, the sun is shinning in Granada, Nicaragua; I’m sipping an iced latte and hanging out with my mushroom fungus.
What’s that? Oh, yes, a mushroom fungus has invaded my body. It’s actually not as bad as it sounds…
For several weeks now, I’ve had these white spots on my shoulders and back. They were few and far between, so I surmised that they had something to do with the sun, too much of it or something of that sort. However, they continued to spread, slowly but surely, onto my shoulders and down the arms. Last week, I googled something very vague, and decided that they were the result of an iron deficiency. I went to the store and bought a can of spinach, a head of broccoli, as well as a bottle of vitamins fortified with iron.
Yet, the spots continued to spread. My boss told me of a pharmacy that also has doctor consultations, so yesterday I finally paid a visit. Ten dollars and half an hour later, I was sitting in front of a man who was telling me that my white spots were a fungus. “De ongo” (of mushrooms). He didn’t seem very perturbed by this diagnosis, and indeed, I suspect it is very common in Nicaragua… there was a poster of it on the wall. It’s caused by heat, humidity, and of course: sweat. So, he prescribed me six weeks of pills (one a week), a cream I must apply three times a day, and a special anti-fungal soap. It’s alternatively gross to think about, funny to think about, and also a relief to know what these stupid spots are and hope that they will soon disappear.
I just finished designing my second issue of the Nicaraguan Post, one that I’m quite pleased about. It flowed much more easily than the last, which leads me to believe I’m getting better at layout, quite a pleasant development.
So, along with my mushie fungie and these various prescriptions, I’m leaving Granada for a week-trip which I am ever so excited about. Emma, Erin, and I are going to explore northern Nicaragua. We first shall go to Estelí, to an organic-sustainable farm in the mountains where apparently it’s COLD (yay), where you can hike in the clouds and horseback ride to waterfalls and other rustic things. We’re staying in some sort of farm cooperative, with a family I believe. We then head to Matagalpa, where I hope to stay on a coffee plantation and try what my Moon guidebook calls (not that my expectations are high) “some of the best coffee in the world.” Jeez. And then on Sunday, Emma and Erin are heading back to Granada for school, and I’m going to Leon to hopefully write an article about this fantastic art museum there. I shall be back in town by Tuesday, the great election day, which I wait for with breath that is bated.
I’ll check in somewhere along my way, in the misty cloud forests or after I am massively caffeinated from the best coffee in the world. The mushrooms all say hello.