It’s officially mango season in Nicaragua. I’ve been waiting, wishing, hoping for mango season since my arrival. Nicaragua is big into nicknames (Ms. Land of Lakes and Volcanos) and thus does every city have a subtitle after it’s name (example: Leon, the university city). What has Rivas been dubbed? The mango city. I was delighted to see them everywhere, bountiful and delicious, as I walked through the Rivas market this morning to the bus stop. They are so plentiful that they even sell them at the bus stop; and beyond that, on the bus! Whereas the chubby woman surging through the aisles usually sell sugary treats and white bread, today (and I suppose all throughout mango season!) they were selling bags of mangos! I had a delightful two hour wait for the bus from Rivas to Granada, and thus did I buy four mangos for 8 cordobas (40 cents) to snack on. They are a disaster to eat, messy, slimy and juicy, dripping everywhere. I concluded my first one and felt like a four year old after eating an ice cream cone in August. But are they delicious. Totally worth standing up against a wall in the Rivas bus stop, keeping my backpack and purse safe whilst dripping orange goo in a foot radius around my person. And then buying a water bottle with sticky change to clean myself up.
I hopped on the bus, sat down, waited a bit and scooted over to the window seat to make room for a boarding group of gringo dudes. One, clad in a baseball hat and sunglasses, sat down next to me and said hello. Asked where I was coming from and then said… “you went to Flintridge Prep, right?”
Flintridge Prep is the tiny, private high school I graduated from in La Canada, California.
“Yes?” says I, totally confused to hear these words in this place.
Turns out, this random fellow who randomly sat down next to me on a random bus in Nicaragua graduated two years ahead of me from Prep. He took off his hat and was a total familiar face. (Prep is a really small school. Everyone knows everyone.) I tell ya, life recently has been darned determined to demonstrate to me that randomness doesn’t exist.
So we had a lovely chat on the hour and a half ride, catching up on life and how we both made it from little ol’ Prep to a bus in Rivas, Nicaragua. He knows my mother, obviously, because she works at the dear Prepstone, so ‘Mrs. Kimble’ came up. It was bizarre/great to be able to use vocabulary I haven’t used in months and months, to hear names I haven’t heard in years, referring to people and things without having to add the compulsory explanatory subtitle. And, as I wander through Nicaragua, it’s always nice to see a familiar face.
Apart from mangos and coincidences, you may be wondering, why were you in Rivas in the first place? I so rarely leave Gigante… Yet, indeed, right now, I’m sitting in the Hostel Oasis in Granada waiting…
waiting for what?
For friend from college KARA to arrive in NICARAGUA!!! Yay. I’m so excited. She’s on spring break from law school at UC-Boulder and bought a ticket last month looking for an adventure and some good ol’ Nica beach fun. And thus, although I live here and have no reason or need or even rational for a spring break, I’m using her visit as an excuse and dubbing this week sb09. And we shall paint the town red together. I’ve been loving my Megan adventures thus far, but I’m really quite excited to have some non-Megan time, to romp through Granada and Gigante and San Juan del Sur with my buddy. Yay.