a few visions...part one

from the last few weeks

an eleven year old girl rocking the jellies, shoes and if you know what im talking about you are smiling, crossing the street dolled up with a miniskirt, bright shirt, sun setting and she is staring at me in the eye for at least 15 seconds as she walks slow across the street and picks her nose the entire time, digging with calm, focused attention and not an ounce of emotion is displayed. fucking brilliant.

encountering a journalist in leon nicaragua that had more opinions, and never hesitated to share them, than me and wow, that was an intense conversation. we both dogged, subconsciously, being shat upon by pigeons in the high beam, old colonial house that we were sitting infront of as the sun was setting.

strolling around leon at night, an old colonial town that is historically the 'left' town of nica and wanting to encounter a procession for the special friday in catholicism that i dont know the name but folks dont eat meat...and finding now one but four within five blocks with marching bands, sound systems, big traveling altar of jesus with solemn men carrying it around 30 meters and the crowd either singing or chanting and then they stop for a prayer, move on with a slow swagger and jesus is kinda dancing and either holding the cross or nailed to it and there is often a small child that sits solemnly dressed in gold or purple with a spotlight that is powered by a loud, fucking loud, generator and she, im certain will go blind and the tears are not rehearsed or for the path of jesus but because she is literally going blind before everyone's eyes and i have this debate in my head to urge the folks to shift their energy and prayers from jesus and whatnot to the child that whose life they are destroying. trippy.

also, as these catholic processions are going about, literally i encountered four!, i also passed evangelical churches that were having services with folks singing and praising the lord and one catholic procession stopped infront of the doors of the evangelical church and did their thing. Interesting to say the least.

im gonna write a special drop about my time with the monkeys and visions of allen ginsberg but that is in my mind right now...great moment

talking about palestine in spanish. nuff said on that. hours of very delicate chats. yep.

drinking fruit juices out of plastic bags and having solidarity with kids that were adventurous with the mixing as well and comparing colors and textures of the seeds that were dropped in for what reason we didnt know but we had no complains

staying in a hostel, in a room without fresh air with 15 other folks and smelling more odd shit than i had before...there was an etheopian restaurant in rochester, ny that warrants its own time and attention, having a brass band rocked he hostels foundation and old doors for four hours and loving the trumpet more than i have. thinking seriously about rocking the mouth trumpet for some dough here in granada, gringolandia...

platanos and my search for the best platanos. for those that know inno you love him, to be sure. also, he is a man that knows how to embrace a mission and is my inspiration. when he went to cuba for four weeks he tried a mojito, or five, in every establishment he entered regardless of the time to find the perfect mojito. i reckon i could sell the new travelers bible and compete with lonely planet with my thorough analysis of the plaintain. for shizzle. i got the 411 on that shit, yall. if you have friends in these parts that have a similar passion and addiction for the golden fruit tell them to email me and i will give them my personal recommendation for the best stalls and kitchens for the gooey glory.

a four hour bus ride through the lush, volcanic mountains of nicaragua and drinking the dirt. dropping into a few spots and having a glorious time chatting with folks on horses and being amazed at the children and their ability to ride bareback and fucking fast through the mountains in search for the lost calf. beauty.

visiting esteli, an area that was heavily hit during the war and talking with a mother of a fallen soldier, having lunch together and talking about womens activism with a grandmother whose passion for justice and efforts were and are inspiring and watching her walk down the crowded street alone with a bag of tacos and seeing her vanish in the crowd, engulfed by a sea of money changers.

watchign a movie about the revolution and the role of women during the struggle here in nica. it focused on a womens battalon and in particular two women that were photographed and filmed by a woman from germany i think. the woman from germany searched out these women to see what they were up to and more or less used their story to shine a light and have a little discussion on the efficacy of the revolution here in nica and where folks were before and are after. so, one woman is now a struggling lawyer and the other sells avon, one of the most opportunistic capitalist models we have. very interesting film.

missing and craving marcus' homebrew or microbrew in general and only finding solice in the homebrew from corn and others...the fermented elixirs down here can cause some damage but instigate some pretty fast bonding on street corners and whatnot, that is for certain.

visiting cathedrals and feeling quite distant from the church but more connected to the people...a strange equation that will take a lot more time for me to fully understand it but it is there and the variables are a bit crazy but i hae to say that i have seen some woodwork in these parts in the church, black jesus and saints of all figures and prostrations that im learning to embrace time within the halls of the churches.

halls of torture is another story. went to some old jails where acts of torture put abu to shame, alla are awful but what folks at the school of americas tought these folks and still teach in fort benning, georgia ... shit, i cant attempt to write on this now, maybe never, but i have been floored and had to sit in silence often in el salvador and nicaragua and for sure in guatemala. as the weeks pass and my ability to comprehend spanish and the stories increase my heart gets heavier and more open at the same time.