The 'explaination' I'll offer is that I had just hit my traveling limit. There was plenty more of the country to see, but I lost the interest in going to new places. Is it possible that I had tired out my sense of adventure? Or was it just the sense that I had gotten everything I needed out of my Nicaragua experience? Maybe a combination of the two.
What better adventure could a girl ask for than a 15 hour boat ride up the Caribbean Sea on a tow boat? And what better way to get immersed in the Nicaraguan culture than living with other Nicaraguan youth? So I guess I was just in need of some time to process all that I had experienced.
I suspect there will be lessons I learned about living and providing for myself that I will call upon for use in months and even years to come. As of right now, Nicaragua is just this one big story of a magnificent adventure I had. There are many small stories within the big story that I will tell over and over to family and friends who are curious about what it was like.
On my second to last day in Nicaragua I bumped into my good friend who I was originally supposed to travel with in Nicaragua. Before I left we decided to travel separately, but had met up twice during our time there. This time, was the first time we saw each other out of chance, so of course we sat down to chat. "How do I explain to people back home what it's like here Chrissy?" I asked her. "I've been wondering that exact thing Hannah" she replied. "Well I'll have my pictures of course..." I continued. Hmm. We both stared at each other.
I was almost disturbed by the fact that when I went home there would be no one who could totally understand by big Nicaraguan story. There was no one I traveled with for more than two weeks at a time. It was just me who knew my Nicaraguan story. And my 'Nicaraguan story' was my life for 11 weeks. And now I didn't want this Nicaraguan life anymore, I wanted to go back to everything that was familiar to me, where I could drink tap water, and get a green salad whenever I wanted and not live out of a backpack.
I had hit my traveling limit and so an airplane took me home. I successfully snuck raw coconut and a bag of Jocote fruit (small, tart, and apple like) into the U.S. I landed in Boston with more questions about the world, and less answers than when I landed in Managua 11 weeks prior, but that's OK. I had my Nicaraguan story. A story no one would ever know every detail of, but that was going to be a part of me now.
My dad was there to greet me at the airport. I gave him a big hug, grabbed my big old red back pack, and munched on my last bit of coconut. Yes, the fresh fruit from Nicaragua was gone, but it was in me now, nourishing my body, just like my experiences in the beautiful country nourished my spirit and mind.
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