The shops are all closed up. There’s hardly any foot traffic or cars on the streets. Red lanterns hung around the city add to the atmosphere. But the most noticeable way to tell it’s the Eve of Chinese New Year is by the excessive and near constant explosions of firecrackers.

Children light them off. So do adults. But it’s the teenagers that are most aggressive. One will ride on the back of a scooter facing backwards lighting a series of firecrackers and dropping them while his or her friend drives away. I saw others having mini-wars; throwing clusters at their friends. Others just set them off near random people and scurry off before being seen.

Some firecrackers are bigger and louder than others. After a long string of big ones, at least one car alarm will get set off. The climax came at midnight, when it seemed like each of the city’s citizens was setting fireworks off at the same time.

I am witnessing all this in the small city of Jianshui, in Yunnan Province, about 200 km south of Kunming. Jianshui is known for its traditional architecture: its huge red gateway arch Chaoyang Lou, its venerable Confucian academy, the traditional Zhu Family Gardens, and the captivating 17-arch Twin Dragon Bridge.

Tomorrow, the 23^rd of January will be New Year’s Day and people will leave their homes to promenade through the old cobbled streets during the afternoon. The shops will all be open; the Taoist temple will be busy, and the street vendors will be cooking up their famous Jianshui barbecue.

The Chinese call this Lunar New Year’s celebration Spring Festival. The Lunar Calendar is observed in much of Asia. Last year I celebrated Lunar New Year in South Korea, which was an incredible cultural experience for me, spending the entire day with a Korean couchsurfer and his family. This year was not as special for me—I’ve just been watching people celebrate in the streets. I wasn’t able to see how any Chinese families celebrated in their homes. Nevertheless, it was fun to see everyone excited and in a festive spirit.

See the photos below of Jianshui preparing for Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year:

Red lanterns for sale in Jianshui, China

Red lanterns hang on the city gate in Jianshui, China

Decorations hung at the traditional Zhu Family Gardens in Jianshui, China

New Year’s decorations at the Confucian Temple in Jianshui, China

Red lanterns hung at the Confucian Temple in Jianshui, China.

Fireworks for sale in Jianshui, China.

Setting up fireworks at a private residence.

After the firecrackers

Exploded fireworks in front of the Linan Inn in Jianshui, China

Shops closed up on New Year’s Eve. Smoke after the firecrackers.

Out with last year’s red lanterns.

By Stephen Bugno

San Blas used to be important. It was a crucial port when trade between Spain and the Philippines was in its heyday. Then Acapulco took over and San Blas became a backwater. But that’s why it’s a fantastic, little, chilled-out beach town today.

The empty stretch of beach at Playa El Borrego, San Blas, Mexico.

Set 90 minutes down a narrow two-lane road bounded by dense vegetation from the nearest city, Tepic, it feels very remote. I planned my visit for Mexico’s bicentennial celebration back in September 2010. I wanted to see the party in a small town and witness the locals and few tourists join in for the festivities. It all happened in the town’s main square: music, dancing, speeches, parades.

I could have stayed in Mexico City or Guadalajara, but I wanted to be in a small town to celebrate Mexico’s 200^th birthday.

Why I chose San Blas

The famous Pan de Platano, banana bead of San Blas, Mexico

I was only in Mexico for a few weeks and only had time to visit one beach. I chose San Blas. It’s description mirrored that of a slow and very laid-back lifestyle.

In fact, my guidebook, The Rough Guide to Mexico summed it up perfectly by saying “for such a small town, San Blas manages to absorb its many visitors without feeling overrun, submissive or resentful”.

I visited in the off-season so it was even more void of tourists (probably only a dozen foreigners in all), but still there was plenty of local life. There are simple little cafes and street carts around town and a low-key but lively and fun bar scene. Internet cafes are plentiful and guesthouses are scattered around town.

The beaches are nice. For the first 200 m or so there are restaurants and a few cabanas along Playa El Borrego, but after that it’s just palm-fringed beach the rest of the way down. It eventually stops after a few km because this beach is like peninsula with a lagoon behind it. On the other side, where the lagoon opens into the ocean, are some other beaches at Los Islitas.

San Blas is also a relatively safe place to hang out. People linger outside at night. Budget travelers camp on the beach at Stoner’s Surf camp, where you can get surfing lessons as well. Safety is a concern to most people traveling to Mexico, so that’s why I tackled that issue in a recent post. Mostly it’s the US media that is blowing the drug wars out of proportion. Mexico is safe for tourists in most areas of the country.

I would consider San Blas as a destination for one of your upcoming Mexico holidays, specifically if you like a laid-back and independent beach scene. No Club Meds or Wyndhams here. And very few hawkers giving you any unnecessary hassles. Just a mellow surf scene and some fellow low-impact independent travelers.

Stoner's Surf Camp in San Blas, Mexico

The locals are really friendly and super easy going. On several occasions I walked past waiting taxi drivers are they didn’t even call out to me. A walk down by the beach you’re likely to witness fishermen doing their thing. Towards the evening I saw about 12 guys hauling in a gigantic fishing net by hand.

Before arriving to San Blas, I heard lots of nasty stories about the biting sand flies that seem to attack humans at certain times of year. This alone is said to be the reason that mass tourism did not develop in San Blas. The no see-ums weren’t around when I visited, but the mosquitoes were nearly unbearable every evening at dusk.

Around San Blas

One afternoon I was feeling energetic and borrowed a bicycle from my guesthouse and together, with a fellow traveler whom I just met, peddled over to Bahia de Matanchen. Most of the six kilometer road led through marshes where we saw plenty of bird life. Eventually when we reached Los Islitas near Mantanchen village beach we leaned our bikes against a palm tree and pulled up a chair at a local beach-side restaurant. I ordered a whole fish grilled with garlic and a huge coconut to drink. After dinner we took a dip in the bathtub-warm water and explored the rest of Los Islitas by bike.

Getting there and costs

San Blas is located on the Pacific Ocean in the Mexican province of Nayarit. It’s a 90 minute, $42 MXN ($3.50 US) bus ride from the city of Tepic and another 2-3 hours and $190 MXN ($16 US) back to Guadalajara.

I got a single room with bath in the off-season for 150 pesos ($12.75 US)per night, which was one of the cheapest options in town.

By Stephen Bugno

I am definitely not a mall person. You might even be able to classify me as a mall hater. Here are five reasons I didn’t fight malls when I visited Singapore.

5) A National Obsession

To understand Singapore without eating at or entering a mall is like trying to understand Ireland without entering a pub. Singaporeans are obsessed with shopping. The temples they’ve built to worship this infatuation with consumerism, are malls. They are big, they are beautiful, and they are here to stay. My conclusion: understanding malls equals understanding Singaporean society.

4) Nice to Look at

These are some of the nicest, most well-designed buildings I’ve seen. I spent much of my time in Singapore just walking through the malls admiring the interior design, the grand open spaces, the escalators. Not to mention all the beautiful people. Singaporeans look good! In fact, they are the best dressed people I have ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, Londoners and New Yorkers are dressed well, but in those cities there’s at least one person poorly dressed for each one that is well dressed. In Singapore, it’s just beautiful person after beautiful person. Even if they’re not good looking, they still look good.

3) I didn’t ask to visit this mall

How did I end up in a mall? Get used to it, malls are everywhere in Singapore. And they’re almost impossible to avoid. If you exit the MRT (mass rapid transit), you may end up inside a mall. It’s nearly impossible to escape. I tried once for 20 minutes to get to street level and failed. Luckily there are good information desks helping you plot your way out. So you may not have a choice about visiting malls while in the city. Accept the mall. Be one with commercialism. Smile, you love shopping.

2) It’s freeeezing in here

A mall in Singapore.

Singapore is hot. Walking around the city, you’ll think it’s the hottest, most humid place you’ve ever been. Enter shopping malls. They are cold, very cold. And to most people this feels good. Feeling good goes hand in hand with spending a lot of money. There you have the secret to happiness in Singapore. Unfortunately, to the weak (myself included), this shuffling into the ice cold mall and out into the hot street can cause headaches. Why not stay inside the mall all day?

1) 1 +1 = 3

Shopping malls combine shopping with Singaporean’s second obsession: eating. This city is both eater’s and shopper’s paradise. Malls have food courts. These are not the disgusting and dirty food courts that you are used to back home. This is good food. And lots of it. A diverse range of independent stalls offer an array of sophisticated food choices at reasonable prices. Char kway teow (fried broad noodles) with cockles, lemon pepper beef rice, fish ball and wan tan soup, chicken rice, turnip and mushroom dumplings, kaya (coconut jam) toast and coffee,  just to name a few that I tried. The mall food court is the place to get good food at good prices. If you think Singaporeans have fashion sense, they have even better food sense.

There you have it. Malls rule Singapore. The next time you’re here, just try to avoid malls. I dare you.

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By Stephen Bugno

So it’s 1440 and you are King Sejong of the Joseon Dynasty. You are a well-respected ruler and a champion for the common person. But you have a little problem. Your population is undereducated and you want to communicate with them.

A statue of King Sejong in Seoul's Gwanghwamun Square.

“My people cannot write characters even though they have hands, and can’t read characters even though they have eyes. Joseon needs new characters that are suitable for the people.”

Your kingdom now uses complicated Chinese characters (hanja), which are only taught to members of the upper class.  However, there’s one little problem. Your nobility opposes change. They want a monopoly on communication. If the underclasses get educated, the aristocracy might feel threatened.

So what do you do? You gather together in secret a committee of linguistic scholars to look into the matter. They consider other Asian scripts and eventually decide to create a brand new language from scratch. Yes, they are going to invent a new written language.

Written Korean: what they came up with

Hangeul, as the Korean script is known, was set forth in a document called Hunmin Jeongeum by King Sejong in 1443, the 25^th year of his reign. It was then tested and improved upon for another three years. Originally, 28 letters were created, of which only 24 are used today.

An example of Hangeul

Why it’s special

Hangeul consists of consonants and vowels. It is a phonetic system, but is based on the formation of syllabic units. The syllable consists of a first sound, a middle sound, and a last consonant.

What makes it unique is the fact that basic consonants were created in replication of the human pronunciation organs, imitating the shapes of the organ of articulation at the moment they are pronounced. Other letters were developed on the basis of these basic characters, taking into account the sounds’ similarities and stress levels and adding strokes to the basic characters.

A chart explaining hangeul in the King Sejong Museum in Seoul.

The whole system was developed using the basic consonants and the three vowels and adding stokes to them, thereby making the letters simple to learn. In modern times, hangeul has been easily combined with digital technologies which make it uncomplicated to type.

Background of the Korean language

Korean belongs to the Ural-Altaic language group, which stretches narrowly across Mongolia and central Asia all the way to Turkey. It is believed that the ancestors of modern Koreans brought the language from their native home in central Asia into the Korea peninsula. Korean is most similar to Japanese in grammar and sentence structure. Today Korean is spoken by about 70 million people.

An explanation from the King Sejong Museum in Seoul

It is extremely hard for most foreigners to master spoken Korean. Written Korean on the other hand, thanks to the foresight of King Sejong, is relatively easy and can be learned with a few hours of dedicated study.

If you go

To learn more about hangeul and the noble reign of King Sejong, visit The Story of King Sejong, an exhibition hall and museum underneath the large statue of King Sejong in Gwanghwamun Square in downtown Seoul.

Open Tuesday – Sunday 10:30am to 10:30pm. Use Gwanghwamun Subway Station. Free admission.

By Stephen Bugno

Mokpo is a city in the far southwest of the Korean peninsula that most people told me to avoid. They looked puzzled when I told them I was stopping there. There’s nothing to see in Mokpo. It’s only a place to transit. Not worth staying there for any amount of time. That only encouraged me to go.

A fishmonger slices hoe at the market in Mokpo, South Korea.

I’ll make decision for myself weather a place is worth stopping for or not. And because I wasn’t traveling through Korea to see anything in particular, I figured I had nothing to lose.

What I found

Mokpo is a city defined by the sea. It is a major port. Seafood abounds. The climate is kept mild by its coastal location. And while I didn’t find any compelling reason to visit Mokpo, I also didn’t find any reason to avoid it either. That said, I did enjoy my time there. However, if you’re really into eating seafood, I would definitely recommend stopping in Mokpo. I mean, how many other places can you get fermented stingray?

There is also a dedicated group of foreign English teachers, hired by the province and scattered at schools around the region. They are mostly Canadians and Americans, but I met an Irish as well. Their comradery was reminiscent of that which I experienced in the Peace Corps; the group is close, supportive, and knowledgeable about their host country. Except they seem to moan and groan significantly less than my group of volunteers did in Uzbekistan.

Overall they like their life in Jeollanam-do and they showed their city off to me like proud locals. We toured the city by foot; my favorite way to explore cities. Our path led past some architectural reminders of the Japanese colonial period, by an outdoor sculpture garden, and to the top of Yudal-san: the mountain that rises above Mokpo Harbor.

Mokpo’s Fish Market

Welcome to Marine Product Town (Mokpo, South Korea)

The highlight of the walk around Mokpo, was a visit to the fish market, which lines the road along the harbor north of the ferry terminal. Unfortunately, it was a slow day, following the Lunar New Year holiday, but there were still plenty sea products out on display which I was excited to photograph.

Below are additional images from the fish market.

More photos from the rest of the walk through Mokpo can be viewed here.

The fish market in Mokpo, South Korea

Fishing nets in Mokpo, South Korea

Mini shrimp at the Mokpo Fish market.

At the outdoor fish market in Mokpo.

Rays

A woman at the fish market in Mokpo, South Korea prepares hoe, sliced raw fish.

Fish at the Mokpo fish market.

Circle the coastline of Korea’s Jeju island long enough and eventually you are likely to come across women decked out in diving gear popping up to the surface now and again. These are the haenyeo—the world-famous women divers of Jeju, keeping alive a centuries-old tradition while maintaining the economic viability of their island home.

Their Work

The famous Haenyeo women divers of Jeju Island, South Korea

They perform the underwater harvest of seaweed, abalone, and shells that is called muljil, which literally means either “water working” or “water playing”. Their work is often divided into three categories: ganmuljil, baenmuljil, and nanbar, according to the distance of the worksite from the shore, as well as the use of a boat.

History of the Haenyeo

Haenyeo-- The Woman Divers of Jeju Island, South Korea

The haenyeo originated on Jeju, a volcanic island about 60 miles off the southern coast of the Korean peninsula. Over the years there have been migrations of haenyeo to various parts of nearby China, Japan, Russia, and mainland Korea. These are known as chulga haenyeo, literally “women divers who left home”.

No one knows exactly when the haenyeo began their underwater gathering work, but it is agreed that it started before the Three Kingdoms Period (2^nd Cen. AD). Records state that pearls were sent by the islanders to the court in Goguryeo. However, before 1629 the diving was performed by men. Only after this point did the women begin the custom.

The Diving

The haenyeo I saw in the water nearby to the coast.

Najam is the term used to describe unassisted dive fishing to garner shellfish and other marine products from 10 to 20 meters below the surface of the water without using an oxygen tank. On Jeju Island it has been one of the most profitable and productive means for women to contribute to both the local economy and that of each household.

Most haenyeo hold their breath for about one minute, although some are able to remain underwater for up to two minutes. As they come to the surface to breathe, they hold onto a buoy called a taewak, in order to take a brief rest before the next dive.

As she surfaces, the haenyeo lets out a whistle-like shriek exhaling carbon dioxide and inhaling the oxygen necessary for the next submersion.

Haenyeo Happy Hour

After a hard day’s work the haenyeo traditionally meet at the bulteok. This is protected spot close to shore where they sit around a fire to warm themselves, dry out their wet diving clothes, exchange information, and take care of the seafood they collected.

Future haenyeo

What I saw

I visited the Jeju Haenyeo Museum with a group of my students from English camp at the Jeju International English Village.  A few days later, I was in the nearby village of Buckchon-ri where I saw some haenyeo in the small municipal port with their catch. I approach one of them, said hello, and asked if I could take a photo.

“No, no, no.” She responded adamantly, making an x-sign with her hands and turning her back to me.

If you go

The students arrive at the Haenyeo Museum in Jeju

The Jeju Haenyeo Museum is located next to the Anti-Japanese Movement Memorial Park about an hour east of Jeju City. Take the bus that goes towards Saeha or Seongsan (Route No. 12) and get off  at the Hadoo-ri, Gujwa-eup stop. The museum is open daily from 09:00-18:00, except for the first Monday of the month. Admission is 1,100 Won (about $1 US).

Today Jeju Island is known as Samdado or the “Island of Three Abundances” due to its plentiful supply of rocks, strong winds, and hardy women.

***

Read more about why I’m in South Korea…

Stephen Bugno has been volunteering, working and traveling around the world for the past decade. This is his second visit to South Korea’s Jeju Island. He freelances for various publications, edits the GoMad Nomad Travel Mag and blogs about his travels at BohemianTraveler.com

By Stephen Bugno

What to Eat When You’re Visiting Spain and Where to Find It

Food is definitely one of the highlights of Spain and the regional diversity only makes criss-crossing the country a real culinary pleasure. There are certain specialties that you shouldn’t miss while visiting. From the dry, distinctively Spanish region of Andalucía to green hills and rugged coastline of Galicia, here are my top ten favorite foods from Spain:

Jamon Serrano

Jamon is dry cured ham, thinly sliced from the bone. The pure bread Iberian pig, cerdo iberico, spends a lifetime freely roaming the countryside eating fallen acorns to produce the first-rate, highly sought after variety which can be extremely expensive. Where: Extremadura, in southwestern Spain. The town of Monesterio has a Dia del Jamon (Jamon Day) every year during the first week of September.

Paella

The rice-based dish synonymous with Spanish cuisine often includes some combination of mussels, shrimp, chicken, rabbit, green beans, butter beans, snails, artichokes, and a subtle saffron taste. Although genuine paella Velenciana doesn’t mix meat and fish. Try it in the province of Valencia, specifically in the towns of Perellonet or El Palmar.

Tortilla Español

The Spanish omelet is made from simple ingredients: potatoes, onions, and eggs, prepared on the stovetop. The perfect light meal or snack anytime of day. Where to eat it: any bar in Spain.

Pulpo a la Gallega

Galician Octopus is traditionally cooked in a big copper vat and served on a wooden plate sprinkled with salt and drizzled with olive oil. Find pulpo anywhere in the seafood-rich region of Galicia, in northwest Spain. Wash it down with the young, fresh, cloudy white wine: Ribeiro, a local favorite.

Chorizo

Chorizo is a flavorful and sometimes spicy pork sausage that Spain takes seriously. It gets its deep red color from dried smoked red peppers. Chorizo is eaten everywhere across Spain, but if you get a chance, try it in Cantimpalos, in the province of Segovia, where it is especially good and cured with paprika.

Gazpacho

Served chilled, gazpacho is a refreshing soup from the southern region of Andalucía made with tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, oil, vinegar, garlic, and salt. Sample it throughout the region because recipes differ within Andalucía.

Pimentos de Padron

Small, shallow-fried green peppers served whole and sprinkled with sea salt.  Where to eat them: ideally in Padron, but anywhere in Galicia in the summer is a fine place to try them. If you’ve just finished walking the Camino de Santiago, enjoy pimentos de Padron in Santiago de Compostela. ¡Ten Quidado—one in ten is supposedly hot!

Churros

Dunk these ribbed fried dough rings in coffee for a Spanish breakfast. Or many consider them best eaten with thick, rich chocolate in the morning after a long night of drinking and dancing at the clubs. Where: anywhere in Spain, preferably at a churraria.

Empanada

Although many varieties of empanada can be found throughout South and Central America, this stuffed pastry is originally from Galicia. The Galician variety is usually prepared with cod, chicken, or some variety of shellfish, and baked into a pie with peppers and onions. Find empanada anywhere in Galicia.

Sopa de Ajo

Originally a poor person’s soup, you can now find sopa de ajo in finer restaurants. Made from frying bread in lots of garlic and sprinkled with paprika, the stock is added and complemented with beaten eggs. Where to try it: the region of Castilla.

Stephen Bugno attended both Pueblo Ingles and Vaughn Town in the summer of 2008 and remained in Spain for another nine months teaching English. For more than a decade he has worked, volunteered, and traveled his way around the world. He blogs at BohemianTraveler.com

By Stephen Bugno

Enough from the nay-sayers! British food is good!

It is time for the unfavorable reputation of English cuisine to end. In my 20 days in England, I didn’t have a bad meal. The most memorable were the home cooked meals I had in Yorkshire and pub food in the cities and across the countryside.

The full English breakfast

The Full English Breakfast

Baked beans for breakfast?! What a great idea. Add fried eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, mushrooms, a tomato, bread and butter, HP Sauce, and of course, tea with milk. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a gentleman, and supper like a pauper.

Yorkshire Pudding

Not an easy one to reproduce back home. I’m still trying to get the right amount of oil to the right temperature in the oven. But this is how it’s supposed to look. Best served with  a traditional Sunday roast.

A Yorkshire pudding out of the oven

Shepherd’s Pie

An English dish that needs no introduction. Traditionally put together with leftover lamb from the Sunday meal. The one I helped make was made with ground beef, so technically it was a cottage pie.

Cornish Pasties

Although I’ve never been to Cornwall, the Yorkshire version was quite delicious. These convenient, pocket-sized pasties were originally made by women for their menfolk to take down into the tin mine. Filled with beef, onions, and potato, they are perfect right out of the oven.

Cask Ale

Find the best in Yorkshire. Cask ale, or real ale, is unfiltered and unpasteurised beer which is conditioned and served from a cask, usually without additional nitrogen or carbon dioxide pressure. There was a movement started back in the 1970’s to promote and revitalize these real ales that continues today. The best I tasted was Black Sheep’s Best Bitter or those from Theakston Brewery

Toad in the hole

Enjoying a pint at the Black Sheep Brewery

This one I didn’t eat until I returned home and was served up by some Anglophile friends in North Carolina. It’s a simple dish: just sausages with Yorkshire pudding cooked around it…. What could be better than that? But no one seems to to know where the name comes from.

Fish and Chips. England has the best fish and chips in the world. Yorkshire has the best fish and chips in England. Whitby has the best fish and chips in Yorkshire. There you have it, the best fish and chips in the world. Go to Whitby.

processing coffee at Finca Esperanza Verde

Blog of a Modern Nomad

By Stephen Bugno

“I tried to buy a ticket too, but they’ve run out of seats,” says the only other Gringo on the bus.

There has to be 200 of us packed into this former American school bus. And without a ticket, this means we’ll be standing for the two-hour haul over the mountains to Matagalpa. This is our first time on an “express” bus, opposed to the “ordinario” or “chicken” buses which do not require an advance purchase or have seat numbers.

The overhead luggage racks are loaded, children are sitting on laps, the central aisle is filled with standers. Our bags have already been hoisted up to the roof-rack and secured under a tarp. As we wait to pull out, sweat drips down my face and most everybody else’s as well.

We’ve spent the past day-and-a-half in the colonial city of Leon—church hopping and museum visiting—making this the first time we’ve done any traditional sightseeing.

Nearing sundown and already into the higher elevation, a cool breeze blows in the window. About half of those on the bus have gotten off, so we’re properly filled now without any people standing. From the window, Emolyn points out the vegetables in the street stall that we’re seeing for the first time: beets, carrots, potatoes, green onions. We roll through Sebaco and let a few more passengers off; the bus driver’s assistant lowers a bicycle and some wooden furniture from the roof down to a girl below.

At twilight we pull into the mountain town of Matagalpa. Within ten minutes we’ve checked into the Hotel Alvarado, a family-run guest house with adequate $10 rooms. For a little city, Matagalpa is lively: the sidewalks are crowded and music is pouring out of almost every shop. We head to Cafe Artisano right away, which our guidebook describes as “the bohemian hang of choice”. Dehydrated from our bus ride, we opt for a cold pinolillo—a toasted, milled corn drink with pepper, cloves, and cacao—over a beer or coffee drink.

For dinner we move on to a comedor, an inexpensive cafeteria-like restaurant that serves out plates of typical Nicaraguan food. We fill up for $2 apiece. For a beer we head to Picoteo Cafe, a packed bar/cafe with wooden paneling and a low ceiling. It is smoky inside. A litro bottle of Victoria costs less than $2 and lasts the two of us the entire evening. A three-man band including a guitar, bongos, and a giant bass-like guitar are playing tunes for different tables. I´m wondering if they´re playing for tips or hired by the bar when Emolyn adds “they´re like a jukebox.” The tables pay them in advance for requested songs.

At 7:40 the next morning we´re back on the big yellow bus headed for San Ramon, a village 12 km to the east. Gifford, the general manager of Finca Esperanze Verde has agreed to meet us and take us up to the farm. FEV is a working farm, an eco-lodge, and a non-profit. At 1,180 meters, its 100 plus acres have hiking trails that wind through a steep second-generation cloud forest.

Shortly after arriving, as we’re having a cup of FEV’s finest organic coffee, two men and a women arrive in a truck from Managua. Within minutes, the guy with the huge Nikon hanging around his neck asks if he can take our photograph for the Nicaragua Tourism Association. After all, we are the only guests here and we look relaxed, sipping our coffee looking out to the spectacular mountain view.

He snaps away and then we follow him down to the small coffee bean processing area of the farm and he continues photographing. The model, a woman in a dress, poses with a big smile and glides her fingers sensually through the green coffee beans drying on a rack. But we are more interested in the processing. The beans are picked shiny green and red around December, then de-pulped, fermented for 40 hours, soaked in water and stirred with a wooden paddle, and dried on site. Further down in Matagalpa they are sun dried longer, sorted again, graded, cupped, and shipped out.

FEV sells about 10,000 lbs. of coffee per year and get about double the price of conventional beans because they’re certified organic. They export directly to Counter Culture Coffee, based in Durham, NC which sells it as Café San Ramon.

We enjoy our two days at the lodge: hiking in the rain, reading and writing under cover of the pavilion, drinking coffee in the mornings, trying to stay warm at night.

Sunday morning we pass the butterfly research center as we pull out from the farm, and start down the hill in the extended cab Toyota pickup. Just then we hear a loud, deep howling from the trees. Giff slams on the brakes and points into the forest—it’s a Howler Monkey. We get a good look at him and continue on our way.

At the bottom of hill, we get out to the main dirt road, and Giff gets out. He’s playing a game of the Nicaraguan national obsession today and hoping the afternoon won’t be as rainy as the morning was. Yes, it’s baseball day today, and half the team is already standing in the back of another pickup dressed in miss-matched nylon jerseys, ready to play.

Another employee of the farm hops in the driver’s seat and shuttles us the 18 kilometers down to San Ramon with beautiful mountain views the whole way.

Posted by Stephen Bugno, Dec 2009

San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua

Blog of a Modern Nomad

It’s been one week since we were robbed at knife-point in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. Since then I’ve had a multitude of emotions and feelings: anger, frustration, forgiveness, vengefulness, regret.

As a traveler or tourist you expect to get your pocket picked on a crowded bus, you expect to get your purse jacked in a bar, you expect your hotel room to not be completely secure.

Perhaps I was a bit naive, but I did not expect two teenagers to come down off the hillside, observe us taking pictures, wait for us to come around the bend, pretend to ask us a question while cornering us against the cliff face, put their shirts up over their noses, and produce foot-long butcher knives out of thin air.

I remember saying hola and making brief eye contact as I would do passing anyone. And within what seemed like a second, I had a knife in my face and was being pushed back by the fear of getting cut up. Emolyn was in the same situation but knew enough to say “bag…they want the bag!” after they mumbled “bolsa“. We both threw our bags to the ground, Emolyn got out of the way, and they were still inching towards me with the knives. I had no idea what else they could want since my bag was already theirs and my tee-shirt was with the bag. Eventually they picked up the bags and scurried around the edge of the cliff where they could no longer be seen.

This all took place on the rocks, at the end of the beach, under the mountain with the statue of Christ on top. On our way out, we passed families spending the day in the sun. Our guidebook described it as a good day hike: rockhopping the northern curve of the bay and around the point, minding the the tides and bringing plenty of water. Done and done. What about the kids with the knives?

The night of the incident we were pretty shaken up, and even for the first few days afterward I was still angry. We looked back on the situation a million times and went through every possible what-if. I don’t know how much of a threat these chicos were. Were they prepared to use force to get what they wanted? Were they as frightened as we were? Had they done this a hundred times before? Was it their first time?

I couldn’t believe the utter disinterest in the police about the case. We had run a half-mile on the beach to the nearest bar to make the call. They arrived quickly, but had no interest in radioing over to another officer who might dart to the scene of the crime, or to the road which was the only escape out.

The situation could have been much worse if we lost a passport, a major sum of cash, my camera, or got sliced in the stomach. But these hijos de puntas did get some good spoils. Some, like our handmade journals and Spanish notebooks, had value to us and none to them. With a week’s worth of notes, we planned to study from these for the remainder of our trip.

They got a nice camera from Emolyn and an IPOD mini. A hat, two pair of sunglasses, a watch with alarm, a flashlight, and a Moon Nicaragua Handbook: things that make life on the road easier. My father’s copy of Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley and Herman Hesse’s Demian are now theirs. In a country like Nicaragua, good books in English are hard to come by. Add to that a blue metal water bottle from Quechua in France. They even got the tee-shirt off my back!

I still don’t regret choosing Nicaragua over other Central American countries like Costa Rica, Honduras, or Guatemala. Here´s what my up-to-date Moon Nicaragua guidebook (I had to buy another one in Granada) says about the topic: Believe it or not, Nicaragua is, for the moment, still considered one of the safest countries in Latin America. If you´re traveling south from Honduras, El Salvador, or Guatemala, you should notice your anxiety level drop noticeably.

Although I doubt I’ll be racing back to any one of these Central American countries anytime soon: almost every person we met had a similar story about themselves or travelers they had met who got robbed somewhere between here and Mexico

Posted by Stephen Bugno, 16 Dec 2009