Diesel heaven

"Watch out for the cars here. They...don't stop."

First words out of my academic advisor's mouth when she met me at the Augusto Sandino airport in Managua. Sure enough, a car zipped by when I attempted to cross the road to the tiny parking lot where our bus, an old school bus painted white with a green rim around the bottom, waited. I hand my bright green suitcase to Don Juan, the driver, who flung it through one of the windows in the back row. After exchanging "hola"s, I wander off to scope out the Nicaragua scene.

This schoolbus is clearly not alone. Dozens of busses, creatively painted, rumble by. Maybe school just got out, since children in uniforms are emerging from various alleys around the highway. Managua, Nicaragua is both what I expected and a complete surprise.

On that cryptic note, I need to go get supper.