Moving Through a Month

Nostalgia has settled behind my eyes. My eyelids feel lower, carrying the mixed weight of surreal times behind me and all I have cradled in my arms today. The Toña I just drank brought up this idea of a nap in a hammock instead of breaking down payroll checks, so I feel like the trip is working.

Our walk from La Reserva to the school takes approximately ten minutes, for any other anybodies. Raines Wilder has incurred at least seven pretty nice scrapes to his feet, all of which required more than moments of hopelessness. So we take it slow and grab a mototaxi whenever I see one without people hanging off the sides or clinging to the roof. My favorite way to spend fifty cents these days. Heres something super obvious to anyone who sees us here at any point at all: Raines, Brave, and Sylvan are covered in dirt no later than 8:00 a.m., and then for the rest of the day and for tomorrow and forever. They’re so good at looking like they found a giant bag of cinnamon and carefully dumped it over each of their little white heads. At least it’s just dirt; cinnamon would be lame to clean off their faces and feet every night.

Kevin saved us all from two dead mice underneath our baby fridge. If he hadn’t been so proactive, then we would’ve lived with weird smells and hundreds of ugly gnats for another week. I will buy him a bottle of rum. He’s been running and writing songs and hanging their new handmade hammock. And he and Kylie both beat me at Spanish Bingo, so he’s got some pretty smoking language clout this week. But poor Kevin has to duck through so many doors here. I won’t talk anymore about his mustache…I’ll just continue to focus on the sweet relationship he has with Brave. Besides, I think Kylie and I have a plan to help him with his decisions. I saved us today from this dead baby mouse that had gotten stuck in the bathroom sink drain. Woo.

I’ll need to say a few things about horseback riding, climbing mandarin trees, and mosquito nets. Two days ago Kylie, Raines, and I went up to La Concha and got on some horses, with Arián Fabián as our guide. He took us up to a spot from where we looked out across mountains and over volcanic haze. Raines rode his own horse, led by Arián, and said fewer words than he says in his sleep. He loved it, and perhaps fear played a healthy role here. After bringing back the horses, Kylie and Raines found some mandarin trees to climb, and picked a bunch of incredibly sweet and almost-seedless mandarins. Arián hopped up in a tree super fast and grabbed a giant one for Raines. So yeah, good day. Also, Brave hung back and took care of Kevin and Sylvie…it just made more sense, ya know. Um, as far as mosquito nets, I love them mucho. They’re very, how should I say it…anti-tarantula and at the very same time anti-mosquito/lizard/creature–all in all, fantásticos.

I’m leaving way too much out, such as how wine keeps landing on my daily list of things I’m grateful for (I love ending sentences in a preposition–so much). Also, we finally found a pocket knife (actually two knives in one!) for Peter Pan Ninja Raines. There are many concerns coming from all directions, so that’s good. We really can’t go through this month trying to keep everyone calm–it just won’t work for us. So I’m sure we’ll move up to a machete at some point, maybe for Sylvan and Brave to share. Okay and finally, we got clean sheets yesterday, and they are so much better than yours. You will understand when you see the photo. I’ll talk about the goodness of Kylie Dailey next time I get to sit down with my BMX notebook and my laptop. Until then, you can picture me and Kylie sitting in the breeze of Nicaragua, thinking about the most confusing parts of the pluperfect subjunctive (me) and how to conjugate -ar verbs (Kylie). And dirt-covered children with sticks and knives. And bright red flowers with too many names. And reasons why not to live with a bunch of parrots. And mustache-covered Kevin with his guitar. And how I should always have an extra hair tie on my wrist, for when Sylvan just needs one so badly right away, please. Dale pués.