Little Corn, Nicaragua

My trip to Little Corn was more then slightly ironic. I spent 3.5 weeks in Nicaragua, and most of my time was spent taking classes and studying. Towards the end of my classes I decided to spurge a bit and go to an island in the Caribbean, Little Corn. After my research the island seemed…

Homestay, Esteli Nicaragua

As I have mentioned before I had a wonderful time staying at Doña Victoria’s house while in Esteli. As a grandma, many of the members of her family live on the block and her house is full of laugher and love. She and her family treated me as an extension of the family. We danced, celebrated…

Leather Workshop, Esteli Nicaragua

While walking to Las Mujeres Ambientalistas we stopped at a local leather working shop. This shop in the front was a store selling saddles, rope, and more, and in the back held a workshop where young men, most working to pay for school, manipulated, cut, and stapled leather; making items for the store front.  

Horseshoe Making workshop, Esteli Nicaragua

After our stop at the leather workshop we made a quick detour to a horseshoe making workshop. In the back of a house, just after the kitchen, two men worked in a rhythm heating, pounding, and cooling the metal until it was ready. Once ready it was placed in a large canvas bag, already bursting…

Off-The-Beaten-Trail Guide to Nicaragua

I always try to find the most possible information whenever I plan to visit a new location. Where should I stay? What should I do? What shouldn’t I do? Unfortunately, very often I am either unable to find enough information, or the information I do find keeps me on the beaten “back packer trail”. Occasionally,…

Love letter, Nicaragua

Dear Nicaragua, Words cannot express the sadness that has descended into my heart since entering the airport. I have but a handful of minutes until I must leave your embrace. I wish I could stay. From the very first moment my feet touched your ground I have felt an attachment. This attachment has grown from…

The Ant Who Fights: A 1st Year Teaching Reflection.

*Note: This post deviates from my normal travel theme. The following words are my attempt to process my experience as a first year teacher in Baton Rouge.   My body starts to quake. My hands shake as my heart pumps the anger my mind has blocked off until this moment. The tears filling my eyes are uncontrollable…