Los Sonidos

Among the greatest shocks to my sensory perception, the Nicaraguan sounds ranks high. From traveling to tropical climates before, I was prepared for the initial wave of heat that hit me as soon as I stepped off the plane and I was even somewhat prepared for aspects of the landscape from the myriad of pictures I had seen prior to coming here. But that still leaves three senses which, by the nature of the way we gather information, remained unprepared when I began my travels.

My first night I realized that there was going to be an adjustment curve; aside from having to tune my ear to hear a new language, there is another, non-linguistic, vocabulary that I have had to adjust to and to which I am still adjusting. For example, the nighttime battles between the dogs and the roosters (contrary to what I had thought before coming here, roosters do not reserve their cock-a-doodle-dooing only for sunrise—they shout all through the day and oftentimes, all through the night). And just about when the dogs and roosters are settling in for their morning nap around 6:15 am, the man who sells yogurt wheels by in his pushcart yelling, at the top of his lungs, “¡Lecheria!” This really pissed me off for a while. As did the guy who parked his car about 15 yards from my window two nights ago, at 3:00 am mind you, and proceeded to blast music. I still don’t understand the rationale for that one. Or there are the sounds which are familiar, but are equally surprising because I didn’t expect, in a million years to hear them here, in a third world country. These include: Metallica’s “Nothin’ Else Matters” and Guns n’ Roses’ rendition of “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” during breakfast (there is a house that abuts the home I am staying in and they have quite a diverse music collection). However, these past four weeks would not be the same without these sounds, especially such a strange combination of them (hard rock music with roosters in the background is strange in my book). I’m not sure if it a manifestation of a changing culture—the fact that markedly American sounds are mixing with markedly Nicaraguan sounds to form a new audible pallet—or what it signifies, but thus far, these sounds have been a part of my experience here.

The two pictures: the first is of a carretas that came from far away to a field near San Juan del Sur for a century and a half old tradition in preparation for Semana Santa. The second pictures is the culmination of this procession, from various homes in Nicaragua to Rivas which is a short distance from San Juan del Sur, whereby there is a church service, seen in the picture, and then the carretas make their last rounds before going home.