When Dreams Die at the Border: Chocolate Covered Promises (the Adventures of Sand and Fire, a.k.a. Youngblood and Danger)

Author’s Note: Be prepared for a very lengthy and hopefully entertaining post.

Working somewhat illegally under a tourist visa, I am obliged to leave the country for 72 hours every three months so that I don’t get deported and forbidden from entering Costa Rica again. I’ve only been here about two months, but Alex, one of the other writers, needed to leave the country to renew his visa. Seeing that I wanted to go to Nicaragua anyway, I decided to go with him over the weekend.

Sometimes you just know when things are not going to turn out right. You have a feeling of sorts and I definitely had this same type of auspicious feeling beforehand. And as it turns out, we had a pretty adventurous weekend.

It all got started on the wrong foot as Alex was unable to catch two early morning buses from San Jose to Liberia on Friday because they were full. The idea was for him to come here, celebrate Ines’ birthday over lunch, then catch another bus to the border and go from there. We had a great time eating at an Italian restaurant in town , but Alex wasn’t able to get here until late so we decided to wait until the next day to head north.

As fate would have it, Alex met a girl on the bus and somehow managed to talk us into a trip out to her family farm on Saturday to go horseback riding. It seemed pretty sweet until we arrived where we were to meet her but she was late (predictably by my account) and couldn’t take us to her ranch because she had things to do in Liberia. Adding insult to injury, the already crestfallen Alex was further distressed by the fact that his digital SLR camera got stolen on the bus going after what he deemed, “chocolate covered promises.”

Deciding to cut our losses, we ventured to the bus station to head to the border (only about an hour away) but the bus wasn’t leaving for another hour. We actually ended riding up with a couple other people in an unlicensed taxi and it was definitely faster and reasonabley priced. Things were going relatively well until we actually stepped out of the car and were immediately mobbed by a dozen or so guys who make there living swindling people at the border.

I of course did not realize just how treacherous these guys were as they closed in offering to change money, give us a taxi and find us housing. Amidst the frenzy and confusion, I, needing to change money, gave them more than I should have. I expected them to take some money off the top and foolishly not knowing exact exchange rate, did not realize that they had taken us for more than half of what we gave them until it was too late. I concede that this was more than a dumb move, but I had a little more faith in the goodness of these people that they wouldn’t completely dick us over. But, alas, they did. I was profoundly disappointed in myself first of all, but certainly by the wankers at the border as well.

Anyway, the actual immigration process went remarkably smoothly and we hopped on a bus, (a little expensive but nice) going to Granada, Nicaragua. This worked out well because it was getting dark and we didn’t know of any other options after this bus passed. Granada is a very cool city. It was founded by Fransisco Cordoba in 1524 and is the oldest colonial city in the Western Hemisphere. It has a long and often tumultuous history full of pirate raids and power struggles but a great deal of the colonial housing and architecture has remained intact.

Interestingly, William Walker, ancestor of our fearless President established a stronghold in Granada and from which he tried to take over Central America in the 1850´s. Following mass dissent and renouncement by the U.S. government, he and his army were driven from the city but managed to raze the city on their way out. So you see, W, comes from aa long pedigree of brilliant foreign policy that has helped mold him into the leader we have today. I guess the apple doesn´t fall far from the tree.

I digress...

Alex has been through Nicaragua before and spent some time in Granada in particular so we went back to a cool hostel he knew of near the center of town. Thank God they allowed us to pay at the end of our three nights because we barely had enough money to cover our food expenses.

Fearing it being stolen or lost, I did not bring my credit card with me so we had to pinch every one of our Cordobas and tighten our belts to make it through. I must say, interesting thoughts run through your head when you are in a third world country with no certain way of getting back home, that’s for sure. Fortunately for us things are a little cheaper still in Nicaragua and we were able to ration our remaining money well and got enough food to get us through the days comfortably.

However, we definitely did not have enough to pay for the hostel and the return bus tickets so I had shamefully had to call my parents to have them send us money and bail us out. THANKS MOM AND DAD!! I try to be independent and self sufficient as much as possible and don’t like asking my parents for things, particularly money, but it is wonderful to know that they’ll be there to help when I need it.

I don’t know, perhaps in some ways it gives them an odd source of pleasure that us kids still look to them to take care of us. Or, I could be really off base and they really are fed up with me. Who really knows…

We got money (by the way, Western Union offers a fantastic service to dumb, stranded gringos) and had just enough to make it back to Costa Rica without any more complications. In retrospect, once we got inside Nicaragua, things were really quite enjoyable. We went to a cool arstesania market in Masaya and saw a little of Managua too. Nicaragua has so much more colonial history and culture than what I´ve seen in Costa Rica and Granada is a cool place.

All in all, it was a decent experience. I made some blunders and learned some lessons the hard way but came through it all right and I am still here without a whole lot of fuss. I wish perhaps I could have learned the same things a different way but sometimes the best way to learn is to fall flat on your face.