Took the bus down to Chicago where I met up with my Cousin Abby and her boyfriend Master Chef John who took me out for some whiskey with Scott Lucas from the 90´s grunge band LOCAL H.
Hopped on the airplane to Nicaragua the next am, where I sat next to a Nicaraguan girl who called me ¨´Brett Pitt´¨. Though I have a fairly generic look, I graciously took the complement with a shit-eating grin. She made fun of my rusty Spanish for most of the ride and slept on my shoulder the rest. I dont deserve such luck.
When we landed in Managua she introduced me to her giant family and they put me in their economy sized white van with 6 kids, 3 grandmas, and a few random uncles and aunts. I busted out the shoddy guitar I brought with and we sang through ¨´I wanna Hold Your Hand´¨ by the Beatles. The van was driven by this intimidating dude we called ¨´the GODFATHER´, who drove us to his brothers house (Uncle Sanchez) becuase Sanchez too played guitar and wanted to shred some ´¨Juan Bon Jovi´´. I pretended to like Bon Jovi and sang along with Sanchez. His English was broken, which made ´Living on a Prayer´ way better than the original version. We exchanged hugs and the Godfather dropped me at the Hostel.
I walked to the bus the next day to get out of Managua, as it is a total sketchfest with ´many gangbangers who shiv gringos for George Washingtons´, according to this Canadian named Johnny Gonzo I met on the bus. Gonzo is a wandering soul studying in Nicaragua, but he´s completely legit. He gave me his number and offered a place to crash if I ever needed. Sweet dude.
Managua is the only place in Nicaragua with any amount of danger. The rest is completely peaceful, the people are friendly and very passive. Onto Granada, which is the oldest colonial city in the hemisphere. Don't quote me on that. But it is old as balls. You can quote me on that.
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