I'd like to do a documentry: Sex, Society, and Children

I wonder why it is that Nicaraguan homes are so ugly. I have hard time believing it simply a matter of poverty. Most of the people I met are poor in terms of material resources, but rich in liesure time; rich in hapiness and well-being. Is it only that they find their beauty out of doors, considering it the sole provice of nature? Is it that they don't care one way or the other about aesthetics, finding other diversions more rewarding? Or could it be that their homes are beautiful to them and it is only my own sense of aesthetics, culturally out of place, that calls them ugly?

Inspired designs can be achieved with simple materials. I don't know much about it, but I know that I've seen beautiful buildings built from little more than dirt and water. Have I mis-interpreted their lives? Have I assumed happiness and well-being where all around me are the signs of a culture depressed to the point of inaction? Really, what is going on here?

Last night Keli and Hany asked the family they've been staying with if I could spend the night too. They said yes and asked if we'd like an extra cot. I got to use my very limited spanish to tell her this was unnecessary. They also asked for me if Julio would be working on the new kitchen he's building and if I could help. They said yes and promised me luch too.

The bed was a piece of warped plywood with a thin but soft matress pad thrown on top, about the size of a double. The warp was right in the small of my back and I thought I'd never get comfortable, but I wouldn't switch when Keli asked if I wanted to. I wanted her to be in the middle, and eventually I got a decent nights sleep.

In the morning I woke up excited to work with Julio and wondering if he was already waiting for me. Keli had gone to sleep worrying that she hadn't brushed her teeth and it was the first thing she did when she woke up. I smoked a cigarette first, then brushed mine too. I wasn't exactly sure of the sink ettiquite, everyone in cental america seems to have these huge double-sided cement sinks, usually outdoors. The left side has the tap and a basin which remains full of water. I think I was supposed to dip water from this bason and pour it over my toothbrush on the other side, but the water had a stuffed bear and some other things floating in it, not to mention who knows what insects and their eggs. I wasn't about to put it in my mouth, so I used fresh water from the tap and just spit on the ground.

I got help asking when my help would be wanted for the kitchen and Julio said at 3. So Keli and I went for a morning coffee at Alavaro's, while Hany rested a while longer in bed.

We started talking about the dynamics of our very dark pot trip the night before. Hany had sat up and said that he was having a bad trip and asked Keli if she felt more of her energy going to me than to him. Keli, frustrated with this line of inquiry and not really wanting to play along, kept disengaging. She'd suggest that we go around in a circle talking or singing about how we felt, trying to demonstrate with a light hearted tune, when Hany wouldn't play along she wandered a few paces away to look at the stars. True to their continuing dynamic while I'm around, Hany interpreted this as a lack of care for him by Keli.

The days are so ful they are vanishing before I can record them. Yesterday morning we woke at casa de ________ and had breakfast. Then we played cards with the wager that the loser had to have sex with the winner. Luckily, I lost.

Afterward we walked the kilometer or so to Zopilote, the permaculture farm. The place was less communial than I'd imagined- more like a farm with a hostel. We stayed the night on the very uncomfortable cots of the dormitory then bummed around until lunch.

We had lunch at the cafe where we'd had dinner the night before. It was really just the house of this family. They put out a sign and lived off of cooking the ocasional meal for a passerby. We were the only customers we ever saw, and in fact the place had only two chairs. But the food (eggs with rice and beans for dinner, eggs with beans for lunch) was delicious and the prices were unbelievably cheap. Two full meals and three liters of tonya for dinner were about $7.50 for dinner and two meals and one liter of beer were $2.50 for lunch.

After lunch we started the five kilometer walk to Merida. We smoked a jay at the begining of this walk too and it was equally delightful. I would never have believed how much I enjoy walking, even, or maybe especially with a heavy backpack. I kept wondering about endorphins and whether or not I was experiencing a runner's high. I was, however, glad when Playa Volcan was in sight, since I was getting tired and the damned fan was getting heavy. It broke on the way and we had to strap it to the outside of the backpack I was carrying.

We fell into step with the eldest daughter of the family with whom Keli and Hany have been staying for the past two weeks. This was awkward as Keli didn't introduce me and didn't say much at all. Eventually I introduced myself for a tiny smile and an unenthusiastic reply. I asked Keli if she always talked so little with this girl and she said yes, but made a good faith effort to start a conversation, asking about school, homework, etc. The girls answers were one word, and I got the idea that she didn't want to talk. Keli did too and we walked the rest of the long way in lockstepped silence.

We put our bags down in the house and went off to Alviro's place in search of Hany. We found him resting in a hammock, surrounded by the sleeping Alviro and other sleeping tourists. His eyes were alight with joy at seeing Keli but he had not a second glance for me. This was the begining of a difficult evening.

We walked up to hotel oja where we had food and conversation. A local boy named Edwardo hung about and drew enough to be a good sport when Keli offered him her pad and pen, but I think what he really wanted was our leftover food and once he'd gotten that he went away.

Our conversation, or rather, my conversation with Hany, since Keli mostly hid her face in her drawing pad and remained silent, was about how and whether to broach the subject of our relationship and polyamory in general to the family. Hany had feeling about how this was to be done, but the most concrete ideas I could interpret from him were "gently" and "tacktfully". I was a little alarmed when he suggested that it would be innapropriate for Keli and I to kiss or hug until we'd had some conversation about it, but I was struggling to reach the deeper feeling that lay underneath.

After we payed our bill and started a little way toward the family's house I pointed out that it was getting late to find a place to stay for he night if I wasn't going to stay with the family. Keli and Hany both seemed to jump on this idea and we turned back around to make reservations for three for the night.

Hany still wanted Keli to go back to the family and say hello since they'd been asking about her, but we got involved in a heavy conversation about our reunion and how it was less than we'd all hoped for. I tried to express my own feelings of dissapointment that Hany didn't seem happy to see me and encourage him to express his own, but this resulted only in an expression of frustration that I seem

Yesterday we woke up at Hostel Azteka, strange place that it is with it's constant 80's sound track, expensive bar, big swimming pool, and cool sectioned dormitory with horribly uncomfortable beds. We had a breakfast of eggs, gallo pinto, queso blanco, and coffee and played some more rummy. Then we set out for Rivas again with all our bags.

As soon as we got there Keli opened up her umbrella, parasol style, right into my face without realizing it. I had to sidestep to get out of the way and a bicycle lorry ran right into me. Keli was oblivious to the whole scene and as I hurried to catch up to her, I saw her almost take out someone else with the spinning spokes of death. I took the umbrella from her and closed it up, telling her that her paras privleges were revoked. She was defiant though, and just opened it back up. Five minutes later a teenager in a white teeshirt had to leap out of her way and I tried again, laughing, but she said that people were responsible for themselves and could see where they were going.

We picked up the paint she wanted, and most importantly, the fan. The family that Keli and Hany are staying with have only one fan, and they've given over it's use to their guests. The woman is sorely missing it though and even after she made it known that she'd like it back Hany has been reluctant to give it up. Carrying that thing around over my shoulder became more and more rediculous as the day went on. We kept laughing imagining what all the people thought of a gringo backpacker travelling around with his own huge plug in fan. With the help of no less than three locals we managed to collapse the stand enough to fit the thing into the trunk of the taxi and we were off to the ferry from San Jorge to Omatepe.

Keli met some more travelers from the US on the ferry, one of whom whas from Louisianna. She had a bit of a crush on him when she wasn't fantasizing that he was an undercover cop trying to lure her into admitting that she'd bought some weed the day before. They invited us to hang out with them ad we figured we'd have a meal together since our bus wasn't for another hour after the ferry landed.

But when we were on land there was just enough time for brief introductions. They asked me what the fan was for and I said it was hot. Then they asked how much it was! Maybe they thought having a fan with you was a good idea. So, then our bus pulled up and we said goodbye and got on in a hurry. No time even for a pee break, which turned out to be a problem since we both really had to go and the bus trip was at least an hour. Eventually I got clear that I wouldn't make it and we got the bus to stop and let us off in Los Angeles.

We peed on the side of the road in front of a farmhouse with some kids peeping out at us through the bushes. An old woman came out to and spoke to us in a friendly manner. My idea was to fnd a restaurant and wait for the next bus, so we walked back along the town's main road to no avail. When we couldn't find anything more substantial than a pulperia (snack shop) we switched to Keli's plan which was to walk out of town, smoke a jay, and keep walking until we came across a bus or hitched a ride. This was a much better plan.

Even with Hany's enourmous backpack and the fan slung over my shoulder I felt like I could have walked forver. Keli and I fell into a roleplay imagining that flights to Mars were available for $200,000 or free for convicts ad that I wanted to go and wanted her and our unborn daughter to come with me. Not having the money even for myself my first plan was to get us thrown in jail. She wasn't up for this idea, imagining that too much could go wrong. She was concerned too about leaving her mother behind, and everyone else she knew. She retreated, saying that she got it, she understood, I should go if I wanted to go and that maybe she would follow. This wasn't good enough for me. I wanted her with me if there was any way I could have it and pressed her for the next step in determining whether that was possible. Was it a conversation with her mom that was neccessary? I said I could wait a year to find out whether she could come with me and she was disheartened. A year seemed like not much time to decide who to leave forever. The whole roleplay brought up some real and uncomfortable emotions. It was good practice.

I was almost sorry when a pickup pulled over for us without our ever even sticking out a thumb. We climbed into the back even though there were unused passenger seats in the cab, and there was no need even for discussion about where we were going as at that point there was only one road. I kept telling Keli how nice it was that they saw us walking and just stopped to pick us up. She asked if I'd noticed they were white. I hadn't. In fact, the pickup was a budget rental. Still a great experience, but not the insight into local culture I'd imagined.

After a few kilometers the pickup was flagged down by some local women and our drivers stopped for them too. They asked where we were going and we said up the road. They asked where the pickup was going and we said we didn't know. They laughed. One of the women got out shortly thereafter but the other stayed. I was confused by what happened next. Keli beat on the side of the pickup so they would let us out and I thought we were within walking distance of our destination, but we ran across the street and got on another bus. I had no idea where we were going and that was fine with me. I told Keli I wanted to leave all the decisions to her. I was really enjoying the trip.

The bus drove on roads of dirt and rock, so muddy now in the rainy season that l thought we might get stuck. We rode through kilometers of banana farms and I was overcome with the alienness of my surroundings. The flora looked like some Vietnamese battlefield, and who were these strange, dark people all around me? Was I really considering making this place my home? As we drove through little towns I thought that the only thing that made these people seem less primative than indigenous tribes were the cement and cinderblock houses they lived in. And what difference does that make, really? Do I really want a life so different from everything I've known? I was surprized to find that even though I was scared, scared for the first time, my fear dawning on me like something previously undiscoverd, my answer was yes. I do want this. At least to try it.

The bus brought us to Casa de Istam, a touristy and buggy if very nice hostel by Nicaraguan standards. The place is full of American backpackers, thougn we haven't really met any of them. I had a pricy steak dinner costing almost $4 and keli had a vegetable club sandwiche, which still had meat.

Over dinner we talked about the possibility of my leading workshops out of her parent's place in Louisianna, and about the boundries workshop I'll be doing at summer camp, and the ones I've done. This stirred something deep in Keli and she started to cry a little. I got that she missed me and felt the loss of missing out on these parts of my life. We finished off dinner quickly and made our way out to the beach where Keli could more comfortably give full expression to her tears. I was so touched I was almost embarassed, wanting to say: It's nothing, I haven't done anything yet, I'm just cutting my teeth. But she knows this, and she loves me, and she feels the loss of the experience. I can only be grateful.

It was so lovely on the beach, and our pot trip that afternoon had been so wonderful that we wanted to smoke again out on the beach. We found a shadowed spot on the soft sand and spread out Keli's sarong for a blanket. She lay with her head in my lap and we listened to the chorus of the night, the frogs, insects, bats, and birds, but above all the frogs. I think we could differentiate between individuals. We took turns mimicing the sounds and trying to identify each one. I could never tire of such a rich symphony.

When we'd drunk our fill of the night sounds we went back to our room to lie down. Keli let out a little moan or sigh everytime I touched her. This excited me and soon I had my head between her legs licking and sucking to her heavy breathing. I did this until she could take no more and then I put on a condom to fuck her. She came right away, but she was being so careful to be quiet for our neighbors (whom we could hear talking in the next room) that I didn't know it, and I rolled her on top of me to ride me into bliss. That was goodnight.

Today Keli and I went to Rivas to buy paint, but all the paint stores were closed because it was sunday. It was pouring rain and I was drenched to the bone and wading through ankle deep rainwater filled with garbage and sewage from the animals. We ate a late breakfast in one of the few Sodas that were open and sone crazy woman picked up Keli's silverware and threatened her with it on her way out. Keli couldn't understand what the woma said, so the whole incident was a mystery. I finally got some money changed, which was the most productive thing we managed with the trip.

When we got back to San Jorge we went straight to Hiro's place to pick up the pot Keli had asked him to get for her yesterday. We were a few hours later than we said we'd be, but no one seemed to mind. Hiro's friend Harold pulled up some rocking chairs and passed the time with us until Hiro came back from an errand on his bike. We helped him unload some scrap lumber he'd bought for the hut he's builing on his father's property, got the weed, and got invited back over for a late lunch at 3.

We spent the next three or four hours back at hostel Azteka sampling the weed Keli had just gotten and having stoned sex which left me with a pulsating whole body orgasm that knoked me out of this universe for a little while.

We were half an hour late to lunch at Hiro's, mostly bacause I was still feeling too high to want to go when the time came around. But again, no one seemed to mind. The lunch was a delicious vegitarian meal of rice, dal, and onions and potatoes. After the meal, we sat out on the front porch and shared our tobacco. Hiro dissapeared though and didn't come back out. Harold entertained us with some crazy stories about his life and childhood (the time he got drunk and rang the church bell, stealing fruit from the neighbor's yard, taking the horse cart to school in Managua) While Keli shared her art supplies with Hiro's two little girls. After a little while Keli spoke my mind, asking if I was ready to go back to the hostel and we left with a promise that if we went out to the bar in the evening we would drop by to pick them up.

Tasty as that lunch was it wasn't very filling and we stopped at the taco place on the way home so I could get some fried nicaraguan goodness to sit in my belly. We bought pre wrapped ice cream cones for the walk home that must have been five years old they were so soggy and freezer burned.

Back at the hostel we played rummy, drank a beer each, then I asked Keli if she wanted to come cuddle with me on the bed. She smiled and gave me a warm yes. In the bedroom I took of our clothes and we lie on the bed. I stroked her for a while, reveling in the smoothness and suppleness of her skin, in the glory of her female shape. After a while I put my mouth on the soft place between her thighs and listened to her little moans and sighs of pleasure. After a long while she manuvered me so that she could take my penis into her mouth too. I don't know what eternity we spent in this blissful state but I know that I was truly happy. In time she wanted more and I was happy to oblige. I sat up against the wall and she straddled me. Both of us hovered on the edge of orgasm, each taking turns asking with the eyes, the mouth, the hands for a moments stillness a moment more of this enourmous pleasure before it must end in the building explosion. After, I snored, then we went swimming.