…practicing our Spanish by asking questions that we’ll never understand the answers to because our brains don’t move as quickly as the locals’ lips
… painting doors and posts (and sometimes bumblebees) in brilliant blue
…lifting heavy stones and throwing them into a deep crevasse
…shoveling around dirt and other irritating debris (i.e. landscaping – including curb and bench)
…making forms for concrete footers on the outfield fence posts.
…meticulously mowing, seeding and manicuring the baseball infield that sprouts vegetation an alarming rate (and I think Greg mowed in the official criss-cross pattern of Major League Baseball)
…gathering basura (trash) with slightly bad attitudes left by nicaraguenses (with Shiloh singing all-the-while) until little Christopher ran up with a bag of water for Jenny from his father’s pulperia (roadside stand)
…taking trips to the store, getting stopped by police on the way home, and not having pasaportes or other identificaciones
…eating a tasty lunch of self-made sandwiches, grapes as big as your head, and the occasional mosque (fly – eww)
…comparing nasty sock tans and blisters
…showering away the dirt and grime just before the thunderstorm moved in
…chowing down at Juanita’s (like a Nicaraguan In ‘N Out, kind of?) in Managua
…and finishing the night off right with Chariots of Fire and Kathy’s dessert.
officially over half way through our trip and relishing the moments we
have left here in Nicaragua. Tonight we will say our prayers and fall
asleep to the pattering of rain on the tin roof of our dorms. God is good.
Can I get an amen?