Last year when I was in Nicaragua, there was a murder in a town I was about to visit called San Juan Del Sur. An American was convicted of the crime, although at his trial no real evidence was ever presented (see my earlier blog entry about this here). Yesterday a court in Nicaragua overturned the conviction. Read more in the CNN Article about the developments. To paraphrase, the judge who was supposed to release him today never showed up, and Eric was taken to a police hospital today as well. The details are vague, but I’m hopeful that Eric is OK. More details as they are printed online (does that even make sense?).

The Friends of Eric Volz website has an update about the situation – definitely worth checking out. Some scary shit.

[Update 12-21-07 12:45 PM MST: cnn.com is reporting that Eric has been freed (finally).]

I wrote earlier about Eric Volz’s lame trial in Nicaragua, and they’re working on an appeal (which is a good thing, hopefully he’ll get a fair appeal since the trial seemed so unfair). The American newsmedia are picking up on Eric’s plight, and there’s a story about him on Anderson Cooper tonight (CNN).

I urge everyone to watch and also urge you to write your congresspeople about this potential international incident. Nicaragua is such a beautiful and unspoiled paradise, it would be bad to hear about injustice in a fledgling democracy that could deter tourists.

Anderson Cooper’s 360° blog (another Anderson Cooper link! Holy shit!) has this to say about the show tonight:
An American accused of killing a local woman in Nicaragua. He gets 30 years despite a solid alibi and very little evidence. Why such a harsh sentence? Anderson Cooper is keeping them honest. Tune in tonight at 10PM ET/8PM MST.

A few months ago, I posted about a wonderful magazine I found in Nicaragua, called El Puente. Well, it turns out that the Publisher of the eco-friendly magazine has been convicted of her murder and has been sentenced to 30 years in prison. Many people can place Eric Volz at his office in Managua during the time of the murder on November 21, 2006; 2+ hours away from San Juan del Sur. Apparently at the trial, the prosecution didn’t present any evidence that linked Volz to the crime. I guess he and the murdered woman had dated at some point, but the lack of evidence gives a serious problem to the supposed events of the day.

Here’s a YouTube video that better explains the situation. And here’s a link to the Friends of Eric Volz and his myspace page. They are soliciting donations and your donation can directly help the young Democracy of Nicaragua fix its’ error.

On a personal note, this story really hits home. I arrived in San Juan del Sur less than 6 hours after the murder took place. We spoke at length with the woman who ran our hostel about the murder. Our host told us she was a pretty and young woman who didn’t barely have anything, and some people just came into her shop and strangled her. In broad daylight. It was shocking that such a cozy beach community could have such mindboggling crime. The hostel-owner also said that she had been living in San Juan del Sur for her whole life and could not remember a single murder ever happening before.

A few days later we were walking back to our hostel from the beach and came across the woman’s funeral procession. Seems like the whole town (save the tourists that were barely in the know, if at all) came out and it was all incredibly surreal. All the time I was there, I didn’t feel out of place for being an American, but the video link explains that the lack of evidence should keep Volz out of jail. So I have to conclude that he was jailed because of anti-American sentiment. Pair that with the fact that Ortega took office in Nicaragua weeks later, and I’m worried about the future of eco-tourism in Nicaragua. And of their fragile Democracy.

While we were in San Juan Del Sur, Kevin introduced me to El Puente, a magazine about Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Panama. It comes out 4 times a year and features all articles in both English and Spanish. I just subscribed and recommend that you do, too. $5 an issue is completely worth it, as the design is top notch and there are wonderful photos and articles.

My photos of Selva Negra have been posted here. Don’t forget the slideshow button near the top for you slackers.

The trip to Nicaragua was amazing, and I have plenty more to blog about. I’ll try to get my photos squared away tonight and then will also get more blog postings as the week progresses. Returning to real life is insane, but I’ll try to deal.

In the meantime, check out the Nicaragua Flickr Group, especially the Victoria vs. Toña beer debate (Great Taste, Less Filling?).

We woke up on Sunday; it felt great to sleep in a firm bed after sleeping in my own bed for only 2 hours, on 2 different airplanes separated by a quick nap in the Atlanta airport the day before. My nephew Aidan asked for a train from Nicaragua (he’s a Thomas The Tank Engine freak). I haven’t found one (writing this a week after Selva Negra) but I did take photos of the train toy kids play on at the resort!

The hike in La Selva Negra was surprisingly grueling. Kevin told me that I wouldn’t need hiking boots but he lied. We started out about 11 AM and followed a pretty terrible map. The area is a dry forest, apparently compared to a rainforest. There were some extremely tall trees with enormous trunks. Hanging off these trees were Tarzan-style vines, some hanging upwards of 100 feet. Closer to the ground were medium-sized trees that you could find anywhere. With the exception of the very well-maintained trails, the ground was completely covered with small shrubs and moss. This was some seriously fertile ground.

La Selva Negra is a hotel and eco reserve but also is home to an impressively kept coffee farm as well. They sell roasted beans for $4/lb. At a crossing, we continued on the flatter of two trails and ended up walking through the coffee farm a bit. Back-tracking to the intersection, we headed uphill. For a while. The main trail split and we followed the “Romantico” trail. Encountering 3 Nicaraguan girls wearing flip-flops who told us that, “no hay nada (there’s nothing up ahead),” we kept ascending.

Things were growing everywhere. Occasionally we’d come upon a wooden bench (who knows how old?) which would be soft from decay with fungus resembling a cross between a mushroom and a potato chip growing on it.

In one spot we stopped for only a moment and were accosted by an army of red ants (those commies!). All over. Up our legs. It was good to wear shorts, as Kevin and Kelly literally got “schpilkus” (a.k.a. “ants in your pants,” for you non-Yiddish speakers). From that point forward we looked down before deciding where to rest.

Trail Romantico seemed to stop and we kept going on the Fuente de Juventud (Fountain of Youth) trail. It grew steeper and more slippery as we began moving more or less straight uphill. Vans were definitely a poor choice. In some spots there were wooden steps cut into the hillside, but mainly you had to scramble up steep sections.

All in all we climbed for about 90 minutes, all the while hearing a deep, loud and unfamiliar grunting noise. This was the noise of the howler monkey (?). Echoing off all the trees, it was very unclear where the elusive beasts where. Climbing higher, the sounds became more distant, eventually fading altogether.

It was difficult to tell how high up we were going, but every once in a while we’d come upon a breathtaking view of the valley down below. At the top we got the best view. The poverty-stricken neighborhoods of Matagalpa, from 20 kilometers away, were clearly differentiated: bad, worse, and terrible. But the view was fantastic. The mountains across were the same height as we were and gave a sense of what we had just completed.

We took in the sights and continued down a longer, more roundabout trail. Easier? Hardly. Descending is more treacherous. Bad on the knees. Going down the wooden steps is bad. When I say “steps,” it is in the loosest possible sense. I’m paraphrasing myself when I say it, butnVans were a bad choice. Just so you know where I’m coming from.

I fell a few times on the aforementioned steps, once hitting my already sore back really hard on the 2×4 that made up the front of the step. Just after that, I forged a little bit ahead of Kevin and Kelly. Out of nowhere I heard a rustling noise, like if you spooked a deer in the woods of Colorado. Fucking loud, too! Kevin and Kelly caught up and I explained to them what I had heard. About 10 steps more and Kelly spotted them.

Monkeys. Big monkeys. Big black monkeys. High up in the trees. Us looking at them. Them looking at us. It’s tough to see them at first but there are more than one and less than ten. At the top of the trees (30-40 feet, perhaps). As we watched (too dark in the forest paired with too bright of a sky made photographs impossible), monkeys would jump from tree to tree.

We discussed the beauty of binocular vision.

After maybe 10 minutes we became boring to them and the monkeys took off. “I’ll never look at zoos the same way again,” remarked Kevin.

After 60 more minutes we arrived back at the hotel to find that other monkeys were high in the trees above. Photos were taken. But it was great to see the monos in the trees whilst on the hike as well; we ended up being gone all day.

Our first dinner at Selva Negra was an experience. We sat down amidst a sea of gringos. Turns out that half of the Nicaragua contingent (25 out of 50) of the Peace Corps was also at Selva Negra for a little R & R between their language & culture training and the 2 year commitment. Kelly had a friend from Colorado whose girlfriend was in the Corps here. After we determined they were the Peace Corps, we asked if there were any Coloradans and there were 2 (a woman & man), neither of which were this specific woman.

As we were about to play the name game, I recognized the woman as someone I went to elementary school with! We hadn’t seen each other since then, and Herzl was a small school (maybe 180 at the time), but I totally could visualize what this woman looked like 15 years ago. Very odd that I, who forgets your name seemingly before I hear it, would have figured it out. We truly live in a tiny world, so much so that it scares the shit out of me. It also shot down my up-until-then theory that Kevin was the only Jew in this whole country. It was funny: before we met, they had noticed my Team Teledu t-shirt and were some of the few people who even knew what telemark skiing is in Nicaragua.

Brenna and her husband were in-country to teach environmental studies to both the children and teachers in an effort to promote sustainable living; a key to building a strong nation out of this fledgling third world country. We then played the name game about elementary school cronies to great success.

It was also extremely interesting to hear about the Peace Corps from someone just about to embark on 2 years of it. Brenna and Mason were very optimistic that they could teach their pupils about sustainable living (there are also people who teach about agriculture in depth, as well). They weren’t very jaded about future failures, or obstacles they would have to overcome in the future.

I really appreciated their commitment to the program and to the people of Nicaragua. I’m unsure that I would work for our government (under any circumstances), but it made me think about places I could go to live where I could make a substantial difference and could improve the lives of humans. Ultimately it’s not just about the people in your country of origin in that matter. We need to take an ownership role in this world of ours and should try to help those who need it most!

Not sure if you know this, but Nicaraguan elections recently re-installed Daniel Ortega as their leader (remember the whole Sandanista/Iran Contra Affair fiasco?). Read more about the current state of politics in Nicaragua here.

I’m on vacation in Nicaragua now, and this is a link to keep you busy in the event that I don’t have time or inspiration to post.

OK. I’m sitting on a bus right now from Matagalpa to Managua. From the mountains to the big city. Its tough to explain how crowded it is on this “Expresso” bus, but every seat is taken, even the seats where the wheels only give you 10″ of leg room. People are also sitting down the whole length of the aisle; the bus driver gave them plastic chairs and stools to sit on. So we’re packed in here like sardines, in this 20 year old bus with purple-tinted windows. The good news: I have HOT chicks on both sides of me. Neither speaks “ingles,” but that’s fine. But I can’t start my story here.

I’ve been in Nicaragua about 48 hours now. The flights were fine, I had a TERRIBLE breakfast buffet in Atlanta (DON’T eat breakfast at the Sheraton Gateway) at 6:30.

When I got to Nicaragua, Kevin & Kelly were waiting for me. After looking unsuccessfully for some whiskey at duty free, I went through customs where I almost had to forfeit 3 pounds of almonds that I brought for them, but luckily didn’t have to. Walking outside, first impressions were “hot” and “muggy.”

Kevin, Kelly and I left the airport in Managua and hopped in a taxi for the bus depot near the UCA (Universidad de Central America) . By depot, I mean a fenced-off compound. People all walk towards you when they notice that you’re an extranjero (out-of-towner), and they try to carry your bags for you. The catch being that they expect a tip afterwards! You literally have to fight them away.

A few minutes later, we were on a yellow schoolbus to Matagalpa. Everyone was consuming something out of a bag. Pure water out of a bag (you just bite off the corner, much like the Squeez-It of days long gone. Solids in a bag (fried plantains and the like), but liquids, too! Kelly explained that everything just gets put into a thin plastic bag (seems fairly economical).

Matagalpa is the large town in the Northern highlands region. The beginning of the road to Matagalpa is the Pan-American Highway, and is very well-maintained. As we climbed in altitude the road became increasingly worse. About 3 hours later we arrived at Matagalpa, a sprawling city of (apparently) 400,000+. The name of the game in Nicaragua is poverty, and Matagalpa was no exception. We weren’t at our destination yet, however.

Kevin, Kelly and I were on our way to the Selva Negra Eco Reserve, 18 km further up the road. It’s a small hotel on 120 acres, which contains a coffee plantation and various hiking trails. There’s a restaurant but no market. So we hired a taxi to Pali, your run-of-the-mill Nicaraguan supermercado to pick up some snacks. Not wanting to check my frame pack at the front, I hung outside while Kelly did our shopping (hello, traditional gender roles!). Some kids came up to Kevin and I and asked for some “cords”, the shortened term for Nicaraguan currency (18 Cordoba = 1 US Dollar). We befriended a 7(?) year-old named Jairo. He was tall and skinny and definitely missing sore teeth, not a shock up here. Jairo was eating lemon sorbet by the spoonful. It’s not amazing, but we had a hard time communicating with Jairo because he was a much better Spanish speaker than us. We exchanged pleasantries and hired a taxi back to the bus depot where we got on the bus to Jinotega (Selva Negra is on the way).

Being on the last bus out of town for the day was an adventure (a crowded one at that). We were instructed to get off the bus at “la tanka,” a big tank on the right side. Being close to dusk, luckily some friendly Nicas told us where to disembark. A surprising hike later (especially with a 35 lb. pack on the back & a camera bag on the front), we arrived at the German-run hotel. Our room was fine and we headed to dinner. There were tons of gringos there

More to come later including a great hike and an example of the smallness of this world we live in. See photos at the top for some shots I’ve taken here.