January | 2016 | Scéne á faire

I’ll start off selfishly and tell you that today I shaved my armpits for the first time in about four months. My ankles too. Now to move on to something better, perhaps how I’m sure I’ve been weirding out my grammar teacher Moises with the hairs sticking out of the bottom of my pants. No, no, kidding, kidding. K, anyway, this place: la hermosura de este lugar. Fucking beautiful (just cover up your eyes if you’re disquieted by exciting words.

So it’s me, Raines Wilder, Sylvan, Kylie (wonderful), Kevin (wonderful), and Brave (spirited). Kylie and Kevin are married and love and like each other. Brave is their almost-three-year-old boy, who let me wipe his face down with a wipe today. We all believe in Jesus… and that He’s God. We all (yeah, kids too, but, you know, responsibility in moderation) like wine and beer and whiskey and rum and Kevin brought his guitar. We are different, too, and will not be bored over these next twenty-six days.

We flew away from Nashville on Tuesday, stopping in Miami for some uncharacteristically terrible food (poor Miami airport). I mean, all I wanted was a damn smoothie (This sounds so bratty, I know, like I wanted to do yoga and find a pour-over coffee bar somewhere in there, but…no, just a smoothie.). All I had was this piece of pizza and mac & chz with confusing crunchy stuff in it. K+K+B took another route and had GMO burgers with fries–tan delicioso, ¿no? Then we got to sit in our airplane on the tarmac for forty-five minutes while Cuban airspace agents decided to open our route, ya know, because it’s a big decision and all. Definite and proven dynamic times with three small kids in super comfortable seats, breathing and rebreathing air. Anyway, we made it to Managua and then we made it to La Concepción, where we’re going to this lovely school for a bit.

I’mma have to stop here for now and finish this chela before it’s the same temperature as my blood. So here are some fotos para ti:

Oh, also also…before I never remember it again: I’m walking to the school from La Reserva (where we stay in an amazing straw and adobe cabin) and this kid, somewhere between fifteen and no way he was older than twenty, stops me and delivers the most polite offer to sell me weed. I mean, Sylvan and Raines were staring at some dog on the sidewalk and I went on to explain that, no, generally, I don’t buy weed when I’m traveling with kids, but does he have anything cooler… ? Um, actually, all I said was thanks so much and no problem for offering, but my hands were full at the moment. And off to school we went.