I’m back on the cattle raising co-op near Nandaime with my brother Mike this time, setting out on horseback to see the herd – wide fields, big sky. Terencio and Andrés, lanky, with their dark, lined faces and floppy-brimmed cloth … Continue reading →
Before I left Nicaragua, I had some dental work done. I guess I picked the right dentist. “Do you know who that was?” he asked, referring to the patient before me. “That’s the wife of Jaime Wheelock,” (one of the … Continue reading →
My brother and I, a friend from Montreal, and other old and new friends spent Christmas 1987 on the beach at San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. The three of us exchanged gifts, each of us thereby receiving a shirt. There … Continue reading →
This brings me to another impression: this really is a popular, i.e. “of the people”, armed revolution. A lot of people have government-issue guns and are protecting their land from the Contras. Many more know how to use them. “Power … Continue reading →
Before my trip, a number of people had told me that Nicaraguan soldiers, unlike those elsewhere in Central America who inspired fear in them, made them feel comfortable and protected. Maybe by wanting and expecting them to be that way … Continue reading →
I had heard that the Sandinista Revolution was trying to do something about machismo. President Daniel Ortega is quoted, in an interview in Playboy magazine, as saying that he is aware of machismo in himself and is trying to overcome … Continue reading →
Over the last few years I’ve known a lot of people who have visited Nicaragua. I’ve seen a lot of slide shows. So I arrived with a fair idea of what to expect. Still, there have been a few surprises … Continue reading →
The second co-operative we visited, named “Casa Blanca” for the old white building which houses its storage and administration facilities, is about twice as old and has twice the number of families as the first co-op. It is situated in … Continue reading →
Hotel Chepito, Managua, Nicaragua, November 16, 1987 “Where are you going next?” asked an American friend. “Tomorrow we’re going to a settlement of displaced people north of Condega.” “How are you getting there?” “Hitch-hiking….” My friend shakes his head in … Continue reading →
