Friday, July 21, 2017

Letters From Nicaragua: Part 10 - Blackfoot And The World Travelers

It was during our time at the Eco-Lodge that Pam and I really started getting to know the families we were traveling with. Just like any group, there was a bit of discussion about "Hey, you guys don't think you're just going off surfing all day and leaving us here in a strange country with the kids, do you?".
Pam and I had traveled once long ago, back when we were dumb and brave, taking our 14 year-old son and 11 year-old daughter to Costa Rica. That was scary for me then, and for some reason, this was even scarier. Perhaps it was because I thought a bit more about what could happen. Pam had already pointed out what she thought to be a women's clinic on the side of the road while driving. I took one look and thought it appeared more like a set for a Quentin Tarantino movie about vampires. There was no way I'd park my truck there, much less go inside with Pam...she didn't want to go there anymore than I did. Thank God we had a big bottle of ibuprofen with us. That and a big bottle of rum. The rum was for me, although Pam had a few swigs at our late night gatherings.
I was a little bit puzzled how the guys talked their women into going on such a journey with much younger children in tow. As it turned out, we were in the company of some folks that had seen much more of the world than we had. Sam, a British citizen, grew up on a sailboat in the Bahamas and pretty much was totally on his own by his teens. His wife, Elena, had left Russia at 18 years old to seek her fortune in the USA. I'd still rather believe that she was his Russian mail-order bride, but they are sticking to that old "met-online" stuff. They have two cute young tow-headed kids that were intent on having fun without regard for being in a 3rd world country. Emily, turned into our substitute for Zoey. I had a lot of fun trying to catch her in a photo when she wasn't making faces, and Pam found someone that would follow her looking for 'treasures' on the beach.

Miguel was from Puerto Rico, and was our master of making things happen with the people that knew little or no English. His wife Yvonne, was from Mexico, looking nothing like any Mexican I ever met, tall and thin with long wavy hair, she was able to charm anyone that wouldn't listen to Miguel. Their son Marcos, was one of those cool kids that can talk equally well in English or Spanish with and without an accent. Some of my favorite times were when Mom was trying to correct him in English and Spanish and he would reply "nooo...quiero......" so long and drawn out that he sounded like me trying to do a Mexican accent. Then he would put his head down and look up with these giant brown eyes, doing his best imitation of Puss-In-Boots in Shrek.

Pam and I loved the kids, and in a way, we were stand-in grandparents on the trip. The parents were close to the ages of our kids, and since we don't have grandkids yet, it was a lot of fun, just watching the children until they got grumpy, and handing them back to their folks. The kids in turn, loved Pam, and she proved that she still knew how to get kids excited about something. Somehow, Pam's foot issue, although a pain for her, turned into a source of fun for children. It had gone from a blazing red color to an ashen gray, reminding me of a zombie appendage, but the kids coined the name "Blackfoot" and for the rest of the trip Pam was Blackfoot.

As far as surfing and the division of labor, it would depend on who you asked. If you asked the guys, we spent way more time watching the kids while women got massages and took naps. If you asked the girls, they would probably say they never saw the men until it was dinnertime....

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