Nicaragua A hidden gem

MANAGUA, Nicaragua — When I studied Spanish in Costa Rica in the late ‘90s, my host family always warned me about crossing the border. “Stay away from there,” they said. “You’ll be assaulted, stripped of your belongings and sent running for the airport. It’s muy peligroso (very dangerous).”

Throughout my travels in Latin America and especially back home in the United States, people would often tell me of the dangers in Nicaragua. It was, after all, one of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere and a place wracked by natural disasters, civil war and revolution. Anyone who remembers the headlines of the 1980s can’t help but subconsciously associate Nicaragua with war, chaos and danger.

But adventurous travelers are starting to discover that behind its lingering bad rap, Nicaragua is a quiet and peaceful country struggling to repair its image. Bullet holes and shrapnel marks still adorn many buildings, and a few rogue land mines still lie in the countryside, but Nicaragua’s fighters now use ballots instead of bullets. When it comes to crime, Nicaragua is actually one of the safest countries in Latin America.

Known as the “land of lakes and volcanoes,” this tiny country has the potential to be one of the hottest destinations south of the border.

The capital, Managua, with 1.6 million residents, often has been the epicenter of the country’s ill reputation. Few cities in the world have been so constantly battered by man and nature — flooded by Lake Managua in 1876, leveled by an earthquake in 1885, damaged by a military arsenal explosion in 1902, destroyed by civil war in 1912, torched by fire in 1931, struck by a polio epidemic in 1971 and damaged by war in the ‘70s and ‘80s. In 1972, when more than 600 city blocks were leveled by an earthquake that killed 10,000 people, few bothered to rebuild. Most of the former city center still lies in ruins as a patchwork of vacant lots and shantytowns.

Life in Nicaragua is often measured by disasters, but there is a certain beauty in the country’s residents — Nicas, as they are known — a strength to rebuild, reorganize and carry on with a smile. Nicaraguans are tough as nails, a beautiful people who are a testament to human resilience.

Three-fourths of the population survives on less than $2 per day, but there’s always a subtle optimism that better days will come manana. Nicaragua welcomed me with brazos abiertos (open arms), and I’ve always found it ironic that some of the world’s poorest people are the most hospitable.

FIRE IN SWEET SEA

When I stood on the shores of Lake Cocibolca at the ramshackle port of San Jorge, the eerie and magical sight of Isla de Ometepe sent shivers down my spine. The twin peaks of the volcanic island rose from the murky waters of the lake into a patch of clouds.

Also known as Lake Nicaragua, this mar dulce (sweet sea) is home to the world’s only freshwater sharks, sawfish and tarpon. When the sun sets every evening, large colonies of vampire bats take to the skies of Ometepe, and villagers go to sleep knowing that it’s only a matter of time before the Concepcion volcano flexes its muscles.

Ometepe is a little more than 34 miles long and 8 miles wide, but its horrendous roads make circling the island a half-day ordeal of bouncing, cracked axles and broken rims. When the dark clouds above the volcanoes release their rains, it only gets worse.

The island isn’t quite ready for mainstream tourists, but those willing to suffer the abuse of its roads will find some of the greatest natural gems in all of Central America — towering volcanoes, hidden caves; thick jungles; cascading waterfalls; and a plethora of wildlife, including sloth, capuchins, howler monkeys and more than 80 species of birds.

Originally settled by the Nahuatl Indians from Mexico, Ometepe — which in Nahuatl means “land of two volcanoes” — is awash in legends and lore. Hundreds of petroglyphs are carved into boulders and rock faces around the island, most of which are believed to date to A.D. 300. In the marshy areas of Charco Verde, legend has it that an old man (Chico Largo) offers people wealth and prosperity in exchange for their souls, which he changes into cattle.

Cattle, whatever their souls, rule the dirt paths and roads of Ometepe, wandering the landscape freely in search of grazing pastures. Dogs, pigs, chickens and monkeys coexist with Ometepe’s 30,000 inhabitants, from the farthest reaches of the island to the central streets of Moyogalpa.

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