Everything to do with farm animals.

  Finca Kilimanjaro, Nicaragua
Friday, June 8, 2007

We both found it rather difficult to get moving at 5:15 in the morning on June 8, 2007; however we both wanted to have breakfast and clean our dishes before pulling out of the Esso station.  It took us about an hour to get ready and we were set to pull out right around our requested departure of 6:00am. 

Cemetery.

As Geraldine finished looking at something under the hood, she slammed it down, and seconds later the station guard Oliver ran over to see what the commotion was all about.  We were impressed with how fast he responded to ensure our safety.  Leaving our camping spot, we pulled up to the pumps to fill 'Nilla up with gas before driving around the corner to park in front of the Central Plaza.  There was ample parking and we still wanted to walk around town a little more in the daylight.  The Central Plaza was stunning with the tall trees and the backdrop of the Peņa de la Cruz, which is a lit cross that, sits atop Mount Cubulcan.  Every year on May 3, passionate Jinotegans climb the mountain in a show of respect and devotion to the sign of the cross.  There is a massive cemetery at the bottom of the mountain and we walked over to check it out.  We were told that we would be able to see a cross placed in the cemetery in 1705 by Fray Antonio Margil de Jesus to ward off spells from sorcerers of the Chirinagua Mountains; however we never did find the historic cross.
 
 

Wall murals.

Our guide book referred to fading murals on the wall of the old Somoza jail and we went in search of them.  The jail is now operated as a youth centre, however the revolutionary images are still present. During the overthrow of the Somoza government by the FSLN (Frente Sandinista de Liberacion Nacional), Cerro de a Pelota outside Jinotega was where Sandino kept his headquarters when the Somoza forces took the city. One mural portrays local farmers and coffee pickers with rifles slung over their shoulders while the other is a war scene of Sandinistas hunkered down behind sand bags with rifles, pistols and tear gas in hand.  It is a steady reminder of turbulent times gone by.
 
 

Cathedral.

We had heard that Professor Harvey Wells runs a must see museum in Jinotega.  Wells has collected treasures of modern and prehispanic art, which we were told he is eager to showcase.  Unable to find any formal directions to his place, we walked the streets asking anyone passing by.  Still no-one seemed to know of the museum we were speaking of.  Putting the Wells museum on the backburner we decided to drop into a few shops and check out the local wares.  We passed a quaint store lined with hand painted pottery and interesting black clay work.  The older gentleman sitting behind the counter was noshing on a late breakfast, however he was eager to put aside the food and unlock his shop for us.  We were grateful.  Once inside, we started to admire the old black and white photographs that adorned the walls.  The proprietor explained to us the years that the pictures were taken, which showed a much cleaner city and a life of much simpler times.  There was also an original picture of Jinotega enveloped by a rainbow as if it was inside a snow globe with multi-coloured glass.  It was an utterly amazing shot and he explained that this was the one and only as the negative had been destroyed during a previous flood in the town.  As we scanned the walls further we noticed a few newspaper clippings regarding Harvey Wells.  The pictures of the man featured looked awfully similar to the polite man walking us around his shop.  A few closer looks at both the pictures and the man, we realized that of all the shops on the street to go into, we had stumbled up Professor Wells himself.  Realizing our excitement, Wells formally greeted us.  He explained that the tour books note he runs a museum, which is not entirely correct.  Wells was a school teacher for 50 years and one of his passions was to preserve the history and culture of Jinotega.  As part of his quest, he educated himself on all aspects of the history from the indigenous societies, Spanish conquest and rule, to present day life.  Wells noted that he does not run a museum rather we were in his house, which is also used as a workshop for him to prepare, display and sell finished artwork.
 
 
Noticing that we were having a difficult time conversing in Spanish, Wells easily accommodated and spoke wonderful English.  It was now that we began to learn about the man.   Professor Wells shared with us some interesting stories of his life in Jinotega, including a story about the palm trees in the Central Plaza.  When he was five years old, his father had returned from a trip with palm bulbs and took his son down to the park, explaining that the park would flourish if the people of town helped by adding to it.  He and his father dug holes and planted the trees.  Sadly, the flooding from Hurricane Mitch took out one of the trees; however the second is still standing in the park and is over 15 metres tall.  Wells also explained that all of his work compiling the history of Jinotega and the artefacts he collected were presented to the city of Jinotega in the 1960's.  Recently everything was returned to him as there was no-one to take care of them, nor any funding to display them.  Wells has a small wall of artefacts on display at his home, however he told us that the remainder of the collection is boxed and safely stored away.  He wished that there was more funding, as the collection in its entirety is a piece of art in itself.
 
 
Mr. Wells was a talkative man and we ate up the stories.  We learned that his father was a US Marine from Fairview West Virginia and his mother was half Nicaraguan and half German.  The parents on his father's side were Scottish and Irish.  Wells calls himself a fruit cocktail of lineage.  

Harvey Wells.

Wells proudly displays pictures of his deceased parents next to his work table and he prays to them often for strength and guidance.  There is a small vase next to the pictures which he daily fills with flowers, in memory of his parents.  It is a sweet sentiment that he picked up from his mother, as this is what she had done after his father passed.  Wells was very candid and explained that his father died at the young age of 59 and on his death bed asked to be taken back to the USA to die.  Wells obliged his father's request and took him to a hospital in Houston, where he later passed.  With dual citizenship, Wells spent some time studying in the United States, which added to his command of the English language.  At 18 years of age, Wells faced the decision to choose a nationality.  Passionately, he chose the country in which he was born and remains a Nicaraguan.  Wells' mother lived to be 98 years old and he is thankful for the amount of time he was able to spend with her.  His stories were heartfelt and we listened intently.  It was wonderful meeting the man that will undoubtedly become a legend in Jinotega.  Wells already receives favourable treatment from the local service industry as his mail is delivered right to his door.  That is unheard of down here.
 
 
Wanting to commemorate our meeting and time spent with Professor Wells, we purchased a wonderfully painted vase featuring the stone flower.  The bright purple and pink pedals of this orchid flower can be found in the mountains around Jinotega.  Most notably, the flower grows around the Peņa de la Cruz, which is the lit up cross on the mountain.  Fitting!
 
 
Wells has also written the folkloric Jinotegan legend titled "Mixtli, The lord of the clouds."  It is a story about a boy that wanted so much to be like the gods, and one day become one.  The boy constantly stared at the clouds coming from the north, always alone, always watching the sky.  The gods frowned on him and punished him.  In one day the boy aged into a stone giant with the shape of a mountain.  Now Mixtli is eternally looking out at the clouds of Jinotega.  After hearing this tale, we were taken outside to see the mountain that resembles a boy sitting with his arms around his legs staring up at the sky.  On that note, we shook hands and parted ways with Professor Wells, entirely grateful for the time he shared with us.
 
 
We packed up 'Nilla and were ready to hit the road by 11:30am.  We decided to head further up into the hills to the town of San Rafael del Norte.  It was a short 24km drive through the Isabelia mountain range to reach the quaint town.  The town was founded in 1848 as it was previously part of other surrounding jurisdictions.  Along with economic activity similar to Jinotega, San Rafael also has international stockbreeding cattle farms of significant notoriety.
 
 
The visionary and transcendental image of Nicaraguan history, General Augusto C. Sandino, lived in the mountains of Segovia until he decided to come down to San Rafael del Norte in 1927.  It was here that Sandino fell prey to the beauty of the town and met the love of his life Blanca Arauz de Sandino.  She passed away shortly after giving birth to her only daughter Blanca Segovia Sandino Arauz and she has created a museum in the Municipal City Hall.  It is advertised that the $1 USD admission fee is a contribution to keep Sandrine's memory and fight alive.  We did not find the museum, however the legend of Sandino will likely live on for eternity in Nicaragua.
 
 
Surrounding the town are a wealth of ecological reserves and fincas that provide accommodations and access to countless horseback riding and hiking trails.  The main street of San Rafael was under construction at the time of our visit, which made it difficult to manoeuvre around town.  Most of the other roads we faced were one-ways, not in the direction we needed to go.  We found an acceptable street to turn off of the main, which led toward the San Rafael Archangel Cathedral.  As we often find, the cathedral was closed and we were not able to visit.
 
 
We continued to roam around San Rafael and before long we had reached the end of the city.  We were facing the Tepeyac Temple that was constructed as part of the mission of Father Odorico de Andrea, a priest that devoted his life to San Rafael del Norte.  Father Odorico came to San Rafael from Italy in 1953 and worked diligently and passionately for the progress and welfare of his beloved town and its people.  Thanks to Father Odorico, the town of San Rafael del Norte had electricity, potable water, a health centre, and paved roads providing access to and from the municipality.  Father Odorico left the physical world in 1990 and was buried in the Tepeyac.  Apparently, in 2002 discussions for his canonization were opened.   The Tepeyac temple was constructed in a hill dedicated to the Virgin of Guadalupe of Mexican patronage.  As we were attempting to get up the hill to view the temple, we somehow got sidetracked and were on a rural road leading into the mountains.  We decided that this was fate and we drove forward in an attempt to find Finca Kilimanjaro.  We had chosen Finca Kilimanjaro as we read the farm has a deep respect for nature and that the coffee and banana crops are all grown organically.

Looking for ´Nilla´s ailments.

There are bright yellow signs with dark black lettering providing directions to the finca.  The hard packed dirt road was a minefield of rocks jutting out from everywhere.  It seemed passable enough, however 'Nilla was making quite a racket.  We stopped atop a hill to find the clanky rattle that was ringing out like a distress signal in the hills.  Climbing underneath the vehicle, Geraldine spotted a broken bracket that used to hold the front stabilizer bar in place.  It was still held on by one bolt, however it was loose enough of flop around and make a horrific sound.  Realizing that there was nothing we could do, we pressed on to the finca.  From the top of the hill we could see that the road ahead was a series of steep inclines and declines.  Passing locals told us Finca Kilimanjaro was only a few kilometres away, so we decided to take a chance and go for it.  Moving slower than a snail we negotiated our way down the hills and back up the other side.  'Nilla was making an insane amount of noise and scared nearly every animal in the farm fields.  The fields were filled with massive pine trees that have a distinctive form from behind shaped by the winds.   
 
 
Nearing our destination, we came to an abrupt stop as a horse was standing directly in our path in the middle of the road.  The horse was chewing on some grass and could not be bothered to get out of our way.  We slowly crept closer until the horse realized that 'Nilla was quite large and decided to back down.  Safely passing the horse we banged and clunked our way down and back up more steep inclines.  We continually stopped to ask walking locals for directions and if they needed a ride.  Every time we were pointed further down the same road and our ride offer was politely refused.  It may have had something to do with the sound of the van, but we are not totally positive.  The last man we reached explained that Finca Kilimanjaro was just up ahead across the bridge.  The directions were perfect.  We pulled off the rocky road on a dirt path that had simply been created by vehicle traffic over the years.  When we neared a fork in the road, Geraldine got out and hunted around for the actual entrance to the finca.  After running up the road in front of us and finding it came to an end, Geraldine decided we would take the other route.  Opening the gate, we pulled 'Nilla into what would be a long, long drive to the finca.  Not fifteen metres into the drive we were faced with a short albeit near vertical incline.  'Nilla tried with all her might to climb the hill, but we eventually slid backward to the bottom.  It took a running start and lots of words of encouragement to get her up the hill, but she made it.  The dirt path leads across farm fields and through small gullies.  The road turned sharply across a small river and we slipped the back tire off the bridge, hitting the same rear section of the passenger side running board.  Twice in two days...what are the chances?  The road become narrow as we entered the coffee and banana crop fields.  The short ups and downs made it difficult to see if there was any oncoming traffic on the one-lane road.  We simply crossed our fingers and rolled on.  We were nearly at the main finca when we encountered a bit of a dilemma.  A pick up truck loaded with twenty or so people was coming up hill toward us.  We had just crested a small hill and were pointed straight down at them.  Both vehicles came to a stop and we were waved backward.  Fingers crossed, we held our breath and put 'Nilla in reverse.  Hitting the gas with authority, 'Nilla did not balk and made the backward trek uphill without complaint.  In a clearing, we pulled off to the side to let the other vehicle pass.  Back on the road, it was only a minute or two before we reached the finca.  Everyone seemed shocked to see us roll up and we later learned that the road we traveled is not used by tourists as Finca Kilimanjaro provided transportation from Jinotega and back.  Ooops.  The lead hand at the ranch, Francisco, came over to talk with us and we inquired about camping.  We were quoted $40 USD per person and we nearly fell out of the van.  Commenting that the price was rather steep, Francisco explained that it included a room, three meals, a tour of the entire finca and horseback riding in the hills.  Oh!  We felt a little silly as it was quite a decent deal for all of the activities included.  However, we simply wanted to go horseback riding, hike around on foot and sleep in our van.  Francisco left to confer with someone and then returned with a revised price of $10 per person to camp and go horseback riding.  No we were in business.
 
 
We pulled 'Nilla into the yard and parked close to the bathroom and showers.  It was very convenient.  Michael set out immediately to remove the broken stabilizer bracket under the front end, while Geraldine prepped some food.  We only had an hour or so until it was time to go horseback riding.  As Michael worked away under the van, one of the ranch hands crawled under to help.  The two of the grunted and groaned trying to loosen off the rusted bolts, but they did it successfully.  The once single bracket was now three broken pieces and the rancher provided us with directions to the welding shop in San Rafael del Norte.

Ride ´em cowboy!

Things were shaping up.  We snacked on some food in the van quickly before we had to get dressed and ready for our horseback excursion.  This was Michael's first time riding a horse and he was very excited.  Geraldine was equally excited, if not more so that Michael.  We waited patiently and watched the horses being saddled up and both jumped to attention when Francisco motioned us over.  Geraldine hopped on her first and then Michael was jumped on his.  Francisco's children giggled at us as we rode down the path with little in the way of proper form.  The horseback ride led across the river and up into the mountains adjacent to the agricultural lands.  Michael's horse was not one to follow in line and he took the lead rather early in the mountain climb.  It was all Michael could do to hold tight and simply stay on.  The path turned into the forest and we rode slowly hunting out birds and Francisco provided some insight on the local flora and fauna.  We were having fun.  On the ride out of the forest, Michael was now getting used to his horse taking off, and he controlled him well to pass everyone once again.  We all slowly rode down hill back to the stables before we cut off on another path leading up to the grassy mountains.  This time, Michael's horse was on a mission and they were off ahead of the group in no time.  Geraldine and Francisco smiled and waved goodbye to him as they leisurely rode uphill chatting.  
 
 
The panoramic view from atop the mountains was breathtaking.   The distant landscape was covered with mountains as far as the eye could see and lush green fields of trees and crops were radiant against the backdrop of a deep blue sky.  We sat at the top of the mountains for a while just staring off into the distance.

Getting acquainted.

A skinny path lead down the mountain and we all followed in single file back to the ranch.  Geraldine was excited to see baby sheep on the path and giggled as the bounced their way down in front of us.  We pulled up at the starting point of the ride and we all dismounted.  It seemed like the ride was over in minutes, but in actuality we were gone for hours.  Geraldine was still concentrating on the sheep we saw and we went back to the field to search for them.  The elder sheep were quite protective and would not allow us to get close to the young ones.  We watched from a distance as to not disturb them too much.  On the walk back to the van, a few baby cows were chillin' out in the long grass and again, Geraldine ran over to greet them.  The white calf was a bit leery of us, but the two brown ones with 'Dumbo' like ears were all too eager to be petted.  After checking out all the animals at the ranch, we made our way back to the van.  We had both worked up quite a hunger from our adventure and needed to get some dinner in us.  Michael was treated to a free carafe of locally grown coffee from Francisco and he gulped it down eagerly.  The coffee was delicious with great flavour and the perfect acidity.  We sat around outside and ate our dinner as we chatted with Francisco.  We talked about our travels, the weather and what life was like back in Canada.  Francisco was entertained with us.  Staring out into the darkness, Michael spotted a cow near the fence line.  It was not more that ten metres away and he began to moo incessantly at the cow.  Paying no interest the cow moved on eating the leaves of some off the bushes.  With Michael still mooing into the darkness, another cow jumped from the bushes.  This cow was none to impressed with the odd moo calls and stormed our table.  Michael leapt up, and still holding his chair under his backside and ran for shelter around the other side of the table.  Just as quickly as Michael ran away, Francisco ran toward the cow and moved it on.  We all had a good laugh.  In reality, it was mainly Francisco laughing at us.  Needless to say, we all kept an eye on the bushes for the remainder of the evening.
 
 
After dinner and chatting with our new friend, we spent the night playing cribbage while moths and flying beetle type creatures landing all around and all over us.  It was an annoyance during the game, but we managed to finish.  We tried to teach Francisco about cribbage, but he was just not getting it.  He bid us goodnight and walked away.  After the game, we were both ready for a good night of sleep and retired to the van.

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