I awoke the next morning. I was offered an orange juice ice concoction, which reminded me to take my last typhoid pill. I was not lost on the irony that I might very well be washing down my last typhoid pill with a fresh tall glass of typhoid water from the tap. Oh well.
This local Managua family continued to confuse the hell out of me with their abundant hospitality by driving me to the bus station for Granada. Their phone number was stuffed into my pocket.
They said good-bye after asking me one last time, “You sure you don’t want to shower?”
Hello, Granada! I had three hotels with ping-pong tables to pick from. I wisely picked the hotel where I could bath myself in exotic Wi-Fi. I quickly unloaded my bags and rushed to the lake for some peaceful reflection on my life that I almost lost.
Whoops. Looks like a huge refugee Easter work party at Lake Tequila had ambushed my tranquil respite. I was really confused as it looked like the Red Cross had sponsored this hedonistic Easter beach bash 2010. And, as the only gringo out of 75% of the Nicaraguan population that had descended on the beach, I was equally looked at as a lost walking merman as a lost just off the plane neon white gringo.
Overall, if I overlooked the small fact that the lake beach seemed more like a soggy landfill, it was actually quite pleasant. I walked around in the punishing heat dashing from one shady sanctuary to the next in order to prevent my plastic glasses and rubber flip flops from melting.
I had a big day the next day; I was being adopted by a local family and would move into my new foster home. Also, I was going to start my first day of Spanish classes. Fluent in four weeks? Totally!