LOCATION: LOS RAMOS COMMUNITY VILLAGE (OMETEPE ISLAND), NICARAGUA

"Tu sabes Spongebob Squarepants?",

I asked to our newly found buddy who seemed to have appeared magically from the depths of plantain and avocado trees. He stood tall, for somebody who was relatively 3 feet and some change. "No, yo no se", as our feet formed the stampede across dirt paths under a proudly rising sun. At this point, I just couldn't help but think how could he not?

Earlier that day, Gecile & I had travelled from Granada all the way to Rivas via famed chicken bus. Then from there, we took a cab to San Jorge, the port where we would board our cargo boat across a roughened high tide. After about an hour and some change of left-to-right swaying, we landed on Moyogalpa, one of the ports of Ometepe Island.

The plan? It was to visit a village on Ometepe Island that I had only heard about 48 hours prior to our US departure. Through word of mouth, I heard that this village was a great place to absorb the local lifestyle, and be a means of injecting yourself into the very fabric of Ometepe living. The only problem was, there wasn't much info on the village. There were a couple of TripAdvisor reviews,but the latest one was written more than a year ago. Of course my skepticism kicked in, especially since getting in contact with the village was somewhat time consuming. Granted, one must understand that the technological stability and advances are not expected to be the same as it is back home. And of course, my love for the unknown and adventure is always at drive. So with that said, plan goes FORWARD!

Upon arrival at the dock, we were transferred to a minivan which went on a half hour ride through the sides of Ometepe Island. The village itself, is about 16 km from the port. We were met by Jairo, a tour guide who would give us a short introduction to the village. As we would make our way through the village, our small talk with Jairo took backseat to our wandering eyes. The houses seemed to peak out of the greenery that dominated our view. The quaint ambience of a village that seemed to work its charm with the surrounding nature. Jairo would give us some background on the village and its homestay program. Luckily enough, his english was very well spoken. Before we knew it, we were at the steps of our "home" for the night.

One story, one floor. Our "homestay" mother, Mama Alba was there to greet us with a shy but welcoming smile. We were also greeted by our little homestay sister, Gretel, who was absolutely adorable. Luckily, as I was taught in my upbringing, whenever visiting somebody's house, it is a must that you bring a present. I had bought a coloring book and some coloring utensils, and had offered it to Gretel as a gift. Shyly, but surely, she greeted us with the formation of a grin, and a "muchas gracias" as we began to settle down shortly. Mama Alba had prepared us a lunch of traditional plates. The staple combination of beans, rice, chicken and plantains graced our plates with pride.

We ate with much gusto as we had spent a majority of thay morning without much to eat aside from the free pancakes offered by Hostel Oasis. As a sign of respect, Gee & I decided that we were going to wash our own dishes. "Nos vamos a limpiar los platos", we had directed to mama Alba. This would lead to our first lost-in-translation moment with the family. Amidst trying to figure out how to exactly coordinate the steps to washing, Mama Alba, Gretel, Gee & I managed to exchange a healthy trade of laughter as we tried to understand each other beyond the parallels of verbal cues. Instead we got caught up in a bond of universal platform, sharing laughs means the same across the whole spectrum. Tis the beauty of connecting via the most simplistic of ways.

We would embark on a tour with a local guide to a close-by village, so that we could learn how the village people fished traditionally. Although the guide was limited in his english, Gecile & I were able to make it through. The same however cannot be said with Gersan on the boat in the middle of the lake. We still managed to exchange smiles and laughs as we would try to decipher if the pull on our nylon strings were that of a caught fish, or of the waves that cradled our small simplistic wooden vessel directionally.

We would head back as we watched local children head towards the lake with buckets, as we learned, to gather water for washing their clothes. We would join paths in a small patch of green and they would disappear within the maze of plantain trees as we headed back to have a nice small dinner before returning to our sleeping quarters for the night.

We returned as night fell, darkening our surroundings, guided by the subtle sounds of footprints pressing against the leaves on the ground. We eventually made our way to our small and humble abode, to Mama Alba and Gretel watching TV from the comforts of their porch. Being exhausted from a full day of traveling and learning, we decided to start settling for what would be another day of full-fledged wandering.

Gretel had peeked in to our room and showed us the drawings she had made with the Dora coloring book I had given to her earlier that day. She had already completed 2 pages by hand and wanted to share it with us. She then retrieved her laptop from school to read us bedtime stories in Spanish, ones that her classmates had written for school. I was astounded by her courage, and was head over heels towards her charm.

The following morning, we would embark on the rest of our trip. We awoke in the simplicity of Los Ramos, bidding adieu to Mama Alba & Gretel, wishing that we could stay for another night or two. If you're ever on Ometepe Island, an island with lots of activities for the adventurer, take a peek and visit the Los Ramos community village. And if you have the time, opt for a homestay and kick it with one of the very welcoming families who call this place, "casa".

-PASSPORT|kenny

Field Notes