Nicaraguans sure know how to party, and it seems like religious occasions provide the best excuse. Yesterday was the culmination of a 10-day celebration of the Santo Domingo. I couldn't really get a straight answer out of anyone as to the real significance of the holiday, but everybody takes the opportunity to take a day off, go out into the streets, play loud instruments, set off even louder rockets, and drink lots of rum (the national beverage of choice). Some people cover their bodies in black oil and then there is a contest to see who can be the first one to climb up a tall pole, while covered in oil. They all run through the packed streets like crazy so you better wear clothes that you can afford to have ruined when one of them brushes up against you. I took these pictures off of the online newspaper, so you probably won't find me in them (but let me know if you do!)
Sarah and I met up with our neighbor, Luis, and a group of his friends. It was fun to hang out with a group of Nicaraguans who were eager to tell us about the way they celebrate the day. We spent hours wandering around the packed city streets, listening to music (lots of guys walk around with brass instruments, it turns out), dancing, and just having a good time. Since there is no one my age in my house, it is nice to know there are people in my neighborhood who I'm becoming friends with. Understanding conversational, vulgar Nicaraguan Spanish, spoken among friends, is sure different than speaking with adults, or even young people at church. It is one of the things that makes making friends difficult, and intimidating, even I will have to work up to it, I guess.
I am getting more savvy about riding the buses and have made some interesting cultural observations in the process. Even though Americans are supposed to be the rude and pushy ones when we travel, when I am waiting to get on the bus I have been the one who stands back, waiting for some kind of line to form, while old ladies physically push people aside to be the next one on. I'm realizing though, that that kind of attitude really is necessary here. Today I missed at least 5 buses while waiting to get to school because before they even stop there is a mad rush to meet it at wherever it might choose to pull over, and they are so filled to the brims that even though people are packed in like sardines, not everyone gets on. When the door can't even close because there is some guy hanging onto the bar with half of his body outside of the bus, you know it is full. Otherwise, you just hop on and hang on tight.
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