Leon, Nicaragua -- night

I'm writing mainly to kill a few minutes. I just finished a forty-five minute conversation which I began at the bar with a man named John, from Britain. But I'm a bit tired from my miserable sleeping experience in Managua the past two nights. I'm sure today's voyage, and my upset stomach have both affected me as well.

I'm lying on my bed in the dormitory, leaning on my left elbow. Its a few minutes after 11pm. I hope to sleep well tonight and wake up early to tour the city's museums, churches, and murals. In the evening, I'll check my email again, especially after receiving today's email from Ronald. He took my advice and went to Puerto Viejo, Limon, but apparently had an accident with a machete, in which he required ten stitches. He wrote me to say that he's at a hospital in San Jose.

Anyway, Bernabe could not be contacted earlier in the afternoon, so I ended up conversing with Ana, the program coordinator for PGL. I spoke the entire time in Spanish, and when I told her that I was born in Colombia, she commented that she had noted my "accentito," as if to say my Spanish had a slight Colombian accent!

Another interesting anecdote relates to my waiting in the back seat of the "interlocal" from Managua to Leon. As is typical in Nicaragua, there was a swarm of vendors nearly accosting the passengers, trying to force them to buy gum, stickers, and other such worthless items. Well, as I was seated in the back left spot, looking out the window, there came a girl vendor at the back right window. Apparently, my tan and generally Latino appearance are coming along nicely since she yelled to catch my attention by saying, "ey, moreno!" I thought that was interesting indeed.

Anyway, there is only one other girl in here already in bed. I think I will read my book, "Dos, Uno . . . Cero Comandante" in the meantime while other bohemians arrive for their nightly repose. Until tomorrow . . .