Random Thoughts from Managua
I arrived in Mangua today at 11:00 am local time, after having thrown up on an airplane for the first time (didn't John Lennon write "All the way the paper bag was on my knee, man I had a dreadful flight..."), and was greeted with:
a) Lots and lots of green.
b) Stifling heat. Dad, you thought it was bad in Hamilton during the heat wave when you were out here? Three words: Suck it up. :)
c) The VIP Treatment - which involves being met by four, count 'em four guys in ties before you even get to customs, who then grab your passport, bags, and $5 US, and take care of all those annoying little customs details, while you go upstairs to the VIP lounge, and drink a Diet Coke, and eat little cheese sandwiches, and eat All Dressed Pringles.

That, my friends, is how people are supposed to travel, and no, I don't care what my company paid for the privelege, it was wonderful.

So there I meet the consultant who is to be my guide for the next little while - he's from L.A., speaks the language, lives in Costa Rica now, and can only be described by using Marja Jacob's infamous description: He is a fast talking chicken snatcher.

Charming as hell, but only believe half of what comes out of his mouth.

So, we go back to the hotel. We weave through some very very interesting real estate- if you can call it that. Squalid comes close. THere are modern day "Bennett Buggies (go on, look it up on Wikepedia) which consist of trailers, and back ends of pick up trucks, attached to two poles, and drawn by pony. There were cyclists, who were quite frankly far braver than any Marine serving in Iraq could ever claim. They were not only in almost as much danger, but not only were they not packing large caliber weapons, they weren't even wearing helmets, much less body armor.

Finally, there were the cab and bus drivers. I should explain Nica buses. For one, there are the ubiquitous third world minibuses, that cram 20 people in, and then careen to the next town, but the city buses here, which are all private, are basically repurposed American School buses, some even in the original yellow and black, although one owner had gone all out with red and white paint, racing stripes, and kids bycicle streamers on the antenna.

The cab drivers are to be avoided at all costs. On the road, sidewalk, or neighbors front lawn. Wherever you find them. Our driver referred to them with the spanish word for "Savages", and they are treated like that. At the mall later on, the security guards were chasing them away with sharp blasts on their whistles. I was waiting for the whip and chair next. I was gratefull he didn't brandish his large pump action shotgun.

We weaved through town, with the demographics shifting from block to block, and arrived at the hotel. We had a lovely lunch, and then retired back to our rooms for a nap.

Fat chance. I lay down for about 10 minutes, and then sprung up like a Jack-in-the-box. It was time to explore.

For one, nobody white, dressed in Old Navy shirts, and Kahkis ever goes anywhere on foot, if they would ever like to see their wife and kids again. So I went downstairs, and with the use of my new language, negotiated a cab to take me to the mall, and then wait there for an hour (he actually buggered off, so I was stuck there for a full hour), and then take me back.

My new language: As you know, Spanish is a romance language, along with Italian, Romanian (didnt' know that, did you?) and of course, French. So my new language is a curious blend of Spanish and French I cll Spancais (pronounced, span-SAY). With it, I am able to communicate quite a bit, and I even held a stunted conversation of sorts with the cab driver, who did not speak a word of english.

The mall itself, was a huge disappointment. It was trying to be an American mall, but only the stores had AC, not the mall itself (which was kind of open air, but kind of not), and most of the stores were American - 9 West, Benetton, etc. That and there were only about 20 stores in all. So I started in on the whole Conversion Rate fiasco. I tried to buy Isaac some Walkie Talkies, but they were actually quite a bit more in USD than I could get them for at WalMart. So I went to the large bustling food court, to see about a beverage.

Of course me and my somewhat bizarre approach to Math, had devised a new way of dividing every thing by 20 to get the USD price (which I was having trouble doing in my head). I would simply multiply it by 5, and then knock off a zero. Kind of makes sense, right? I didn't think so - work with me here.

What I ended up with, somehow, was thinking I needed to divide it by 5, and couldn't figure out for the life of me why a bottle of beer was $5 us. I was walking away, shaking my head when I suddenly called out (much to the amusement of the others in the mall) "It's only a buck!", at which point, I went back and had a beer, and watched the crowd, the chaos, the kids, and the WWE Wrestling that was playing on the monitors.

It was wild, an entire mall full of people who wanted nothing more than the American standard of living, and were prepared to replicate it down to the last detail- including a Burger King.

So It's been a fascinating day. The Chicken Snatcher is taking me out for dinner, and back early for the big day training tomorrow. That is going to be interesting - my boss has already apologized for hiring nearly an entire class with no sales experience. I.e. it will be the largest class I have ever taught, with the least experience of any class I have ever taught.

"The pilot has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign, as we are about to encounter a little turbulence."

Tell that to the cute little German Teenager on the school group tour who was holding a glass of water when the plane dropped about 30 feet from an air pocket. She was wiping drops off the roof, her seat, her glasses, the seat back in front of her, pretty much everything but her friend.

You had to be there.