My, my Alice time does fly

Do you ever feel like Alice falling down the hole? As if you’ve taken one step, expecting to land in one spot only to find your self in a completely foreign place? But wait. Not only are you in some unknown land, you’re also unable to disconcern how much time has past. Has it been just a second, a day, a month, years?

At the moment I feel a bit like Alice. Has it really been years since I’ve truly updated this blog? And at the same moment I am looking around wondering where exactly I find myself; how I find myself. I am no longer a teacher. In a  just a few days I will no longer live in Baton Rouge. And I am no longer the 22 year old girl who started her journey to the south bright eyed and bushy tailed. Yet, she still lurks somewhere below the surface. I may no longer hold the title of Spanish teacher, yet I am not able to simply shrug that skin off. I will no longer call Baton Rouge my home, but I will not forget the experiences nor the lifelong bonds formed.

The leaving is interesting. Both joy and sadness coexist in the same confusion of my mind. I am leaving, but not starting. I have no career lined up, no home already found. Instead I am stepping into a different, well worn persona; the traveller. Over the next couple of months I will revamp the blog. It will be updated for past, current, and future adventures. For now I will leave you with a thought best said by Robert frost:

“You are searching, Joe,

for things that don’t exist: I mean


Endings and beginnings — there are no

such things.

There are only middles”


Agua Frio

I stand naked. I stand in front of the shower wearing the past two days of travel on my skin reflexively waiting for the water to warm. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty. A minute later the realization hits me, no hot water. There has been no hot water. There will be no hot water joining me in the shower today.

My first steps are those of a mouse trying to sneak pass a cat, timid and not so sure this is a great idea. But this is no way to live life, I remind myself. I will not let the beast of cold water defeat me in my quest for cleanliness. I straighten my back, stand tall, and ready for whatever comes next.

Despite my surge of courage my hand is timid as it reaches out to test the stream of waiting cleanliness.

OH HELL NAH, my nerve endings shriek. My wounded hand quickly retreats back to the safety of my body.

Buck up kid, someone’s paying for this water, the left side of my brain orders.

First one hand returns, joined shortly after by hand number two. Decidedly not interested in the glacial stream before them, my hands press on determined to get the job done.

“Like a bandaid. Like a bandaid. Like a bandaiiiiiddddddd”

Splash one hits the right arm. Splash two hits the left. Splash three hits me right in the chest.

Dramatic I am, yet I know no other way. I close my eyes. The time has come. There is no going back, it’s do or die.

I plunge under the stream of pure ice.


My body.


As I shower I try to contain the noises of my dying nerve endings- I would hate for my amazing host family to think their new gringa is a pansy. They do this every day.

What’s the big deal ginga?




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 exactly the place I was looking for: small, low key (there are no cars or roads on the island), beautiful beaches, good diving, paradise. So I spent $100 and 48 hours and arrived on the island ready to relax….. apparently the universe and I were not on the same page. It was stormy and I was sick the entire time I was on Little Corn.

One day after my arrival I started to have a severe headache. I woke up more than 4 times that night with a splitting headache, feeling like someone had taken an ice cream scope to my eye balls. The next morning I was feverish, nauseous, and weak. I had just enough energy to walk across the island to get a massage before returning to my room to sleep the pain away. Two days of headache and then a rash started. By this time I had to leave the island. I had three days on the island and all of them were spent sick, while it stormed and rained outside. Thankfully, while on the island I befriended a lovely lady, K. K was on the island coordinating volunteers and after seeing me in my misery went out of her way to help me. She monitored my symptoms, “looks like chikungunya (a mosquito virus similar to zeka) “, helped me get off the island, and made sure I was doing alright whenever she could; every time I travel my faith in humanity is restored.

So, $400 and 5 days later I left the island covered in a head to toe rash and joints filled with temporary arthritis. So much for a vacation

Oh, and Little Corn is very beautiful.

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Little Corn, 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 birthdays, played cards, and had many a pick-up soccer game in the streets. I hope to return this upcoming  year with a small group of students. I was particularly in love with her little kitten. I spent many nights reading and writing at her kitchen table with the kitten “mancha” purring, sleeping, or playing in my lap.


Homestay, Esteli Nicaragua

Getting there (by bus/boat) Isla Ometepe ->Little Corn, Nicaragua

I’m a cheap traveler, doing almost anything to lower my cost of travel. So when looking at going to the Corn Islands in Nicaragua I knew I didn’t want to pay $200 for a flight. This determination left me with two choices: I either didn’t go at all, or I would try to get there via bus and boat. Bus and boat it was. I did my research and asked around, but I kept getting conflicting answers. I was not to be stopped however, and Wednesday morning I left Hospetaje Ortiz in search of the illusive on-the-ground path to the Corn Islands

Over view :

Isla Ometepe -> Managua (bus)

Mangua -> Rama (bus)

Rama -> Bluefields (boat)

Bluefields -> Big Corn (boat/plane)

Big Corn-> Little Corn (boat)

Isla Ometepe ->Managua

DO NOT LET ANYONE TELL YOU DIFFERENTLY, you need to go to Managua to take a bus to Rama. I took a 10 am bus from Altagracia to Moyogalpa on Isla Omepete ,and the coinciding boat ( at this time the boat and bus are coordinated to allow the bus passengers to catch a ferry) to San Jorge.

San Jorge has some of the worse taxi drivers I have ever experienced. They will do anything to get you to take a ride in their car, lying not withheld. My past has taught me to never ask a taxi driver for directions because once the driver senses weakness (from a tourist) they typically will try to pounce. I didn’t listen to my own advice in San Jorge, and ended up in a taxi with a driver spinning all types of tails. He told me first that there weren’t any buses to Rama, then that they were unsafe ( I wouldn’t even take one of those buses, he said) and then that I would be able to take a bus easier from San Jorge del Sur (Don’t worry, he could drive me all the way there). Eventually I caught on to his nonsense and got out of the taxi at the bus station. This is all a long winded way of saying that I took a bus to Managua out of the Rivas terminal, but you should be able to take a bus directly from the port where the ferry drops you off in Managua.

When the bus entered Managua I asked around and a nice woman offered to tell me when to get off for the terminal Ivan Montenegro. While disembarking, myself and another tourist couple made the connection that we were going to the same place, which made the upcoming trip much more enjoyable. Cost: 50c

Managua ->Rama

Upon arriving at Terminal Ivan, I bought an “express” bus ticket to rama leaving at 9pm that night (We purchased tickets for both the bus and the boat from Rama at the same time. note this doesn’t give you specific boat, it only guarantees you a spot on a boat) …. 6 hours later the bus took off, 9pm only to stop at Terminal Mercado until 9:45. This leads me to believe you can take a bus from either location, you just need to make sure you buy your ticket in time. At the end of my trip I ran into a man trying to get to Little Corn, and he ended up stuck in Managua for an extra day because the tickets had sold out. The bus was relatively nice and reminded me of the overnight buses in South East Asia. The bus arrived in Rama around 3:30am after multiple stops (none with a restroom) to pick people up. Cost: 160c

Rama -> Bluefields

At this point in the journey it’s really easy to figure out where to go because everyone is going to the same place. Upon disembarking the bus we walked over to a small outside  (covered) waiting area with a small office. We waited in line where we then received a ticket with the boat number. Some how our bus was the last of a few to arrive in Rama and we ended up with the last 6am boat, giving us only 3 hours from when the 1.45 hour boat left to catch the ferry to Big Corn. We waited under the overhang for a couple of hours until we went to the port (Paying a port fee of 15c) Where our boat actually left at 7. Cost: 250

Bluefields -> Big Corn

We arrive at Bluefields, walked off the dock, took a left into a small office, and then followed a small path between buildings until we reached a road. At the end of this road we could see the ferry preparing to leave. Wednesdays at 9am is the only consistent, government ferry to Big Corn. There are other boats, but their trips are not consistent. We arrived in Bluefields with just under an hour before the ferry left. We waited in line to buy tickets for 45 minutes moving no more than 2 feet, before an official announced there was no more space. About 10 more people were able to plead their case and get the precious ferry ticket; myself and the couple were not so lucky. After missing the ferry I had to again make a decision: did I want to role the dice and see if Captain D left the following day, or did I want to take a plane. I chose the plane. I said goodbye to the couple ( they chose to try and take the ferry) and went to the airport without buying a ticket. I was able to save about $30 buying the ticket from the airport versus online. The flight was a smooth 30 minutes. Cost: $98 round trip flight bluefields, Big Corn. 

*I chose a roundtrip because it was only $30 more, and I didn’t want to worry about potentially missing my flight back to Managua and thus Seattle.

Corn Islands

Once on the big island I thought travel wouldn’t be as stressful, and in part, it wasn’t. Getting to little corn was simple and I caught a 4pm panga to Little Corn the same day I arrived. Getting off Little Corn was incredibly more stressful. Because of an impending storm the boat schedules were all up in the air and inconsistent. I ended up taking a 9pm boat out of Little Corn 4 days later. My friends, the Couple, arrived  on Little Corn the day after I left. It had taken them 5 days to get from Bluefields to Little Corn; I’m glad I choose to fly.


As always let me know if you have any questions!


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 with completed horse shoes, to be sent off to Masaya or Matagalpa, two big market towns. ( We also met a young boy very excited to show us his little bird and tell us all about how you know the gender-I love kids)