Flaming Effigies, Funeral Customs & Other Things I've Learned in Nicaragua
Plus: Try my Homesick Pot Roast recipe, and we can drown our loneliness together in beef and gravy.
I’m often asked (especially by female friends around my age who are pondering big changes in their lives and thinking of what may be next for them): “Don’t you get lonely being away from your family so much?”
Absolutely. There are days I would love nothing more than to click my heels three times and teletransport back to Owen Sound. And pretty much every day, I wish I could pack my boys and husband up to travel the world together. That’s not their life plan, though. And mine is not to be stationary.
So yes, there are days when the loneliness of solo travel threatens to overwhelm. I’m sure not every solo traveler feels it to the same extent, but I’d be surprised if we don’t all have our moments. If you don’t like being alone and in the company of yourself, life is more difficult wherever you are.
The loneliness is just one piece, though. I cannot think of anything more personally enriching than traveling, not vacationing, but living as a local in different places.
Where some might find constantly having to learn new things overwhelming, I feel fully engaged when on a mission to find a place to do laundry or buy the best pastries. Having a successful conversation with a complete stranger in the local language – whether that’s introducing myself to a neighbour, negotiating an ATV rental, or getting weather-appropriate clothes at a thrift shop when I packed all the wrong things – these simple, everyday transactions become wins that deliver a dopamine hit and fill my cup.
One of the first everyday life lessons I learned in Granada, Nicaragua, is that you don’t have a private taxi unless you booked them and are paying a trip or hourly rate. When you hail a cab in the street, it’s a flat rate of about $1 per passenger. The driver may pick up any other combination of people, groceries, animals etc. en route, and he decides who’s getting dropped off when.
Anyway, that’s how I was going for acupuncture but ended up in a barrio at some lady’s house with a caged monkey. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(I’ve also learned there’s really no point in getting upset and offended by things I can’t change, like someone else caging a monkey. You could spend a looooot of time upset and offended by how animals are treated in different cultures. Instead, I help where I can – like with Tom Cat. Which reminds me, we need a post about Tom Cat next. But let’s get back to this one before my brain wanders too far off in another direction.)
Every day, I learn new words, both through intentional study and the immersion you only get surrounded by native speakers. While most Nicaraguans who work in tourism speak English, I live in a residential neighbourhood and rarely hear my native language outside of conversations with expats.
I’m learning a lot about Nicaraguan culture, too. There are plenty of opportunities to seek out that knowledge by going to museums, festivals, galleries, etc. But there’s nothing that beats living in a place as a local and experiencing the culture for yourself.
New Year’s Eve was a trip here in Granada. This was the first time Trevor and I experienced The Viejos. The burning of effigies as a cleansing to welcome in the new year is better known as an Ecuadorian tradition, but it’s become popular here in Nicaragua, too.
In the Nica version, El Viejo (or La Vieja, for a female effigy) is often smoking a cigarette or drinking alcohol. At midnight, El Viejo is dragged into the street and set on fire. And lemme tell ya, our neighbours are into the tradition. They’re also super into fireworks, and I’m not exaggerating when I say our street looked and sounded like a war zone by 12:05 on January 1. It was a little scary, not gonna lie, simply because we’d never seen anything like it. But for the local people, it was a peaceful, fun, auspicious way to bring in 2024.
Another cultural lesson I learned recently left me feeling like a huge jerk, and that’s how it happens sometimes. We step in it or put our foot in our mouth and get corrected.
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One night recently, I bolted straight up in bed after hearing a man’s voice so loudly I was sure he must have been right outside my bedroom door. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, though, and realized the muffled, garbled voice was coming from a loudspeaker in the street.
So I did what you logically do in such a situation… I went to Facebook.
I posted in the local ex-pat group, “Dare I ask why there’s a loudspeaker announcement driving down the street at almost midnight? Is he selling bananas? 2-for-1 stereo sale? Imminent volcano eruption, get out now? He sounds like the Charlie Brown teacher from here, so I haven’t a clue.”
After a few predictably snarky comments, a woman gently explained that the noise I was complaining about was… a funeral announcement. 😳
“In Nicaragua, embalming or refrigeration is rare and expensive. So, to be blunt, the body needs to be in the ground in 24 hours. When someone dies, an announcement is made by loud speaker of the person and location of the wake,” she said. “Then, at the announced location, people gather until the procession to the cemetery. The wake is those pop up tents and chairs that you often see streetside in front of a house.”
We’ve now seen a few funeral processions come by. There’s a massive cemetery at the end of our street, although I’m not sure if it’s the one still in use today.
It’s stunning, btw… Cementario de Granada is the country’s oldest, and six Presidents are buried here. Picturesque stone mausoleums and tombs tower overhead against a backdrop of blue sky and Volcan Mombacho.
In addition to learning about the local culture and not to be flippant when asking questions, traveling solo for so much of this winter is teaching me some other valuable things about myself.
I’m trying to learn how to miss people without beating myself over not being everywhere at once. Trust me, that’s a tough one for a lifelong people pleaser with added Mom guilt.
I’m trying to learn better and more meaningful ways of staying connected with friends and family.
The funk we felt during COVID — that sameness, that stagnation — has continued for many as economic conditions have worsened. More and more of the things we North Americans do to feel fulfilled have become unaffordable “extras” or luxuries; things like meals out with friends, going to a theatre, even putting gas in the car to visit family.
Staying connected has its challenges whether you’re in the same town or on the other side of the world. But it’s just more obvious, I suppose, when you’re nomading and far from those you love that you need to make more effort.
And so I’m trying to be more intentional in my relationships, and I’m learning, I still feel like most of the time, I’m not getting it quite right.
That’s okay. I console myself with food :D
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Trigger warning for vegan friends – you’re going to want to stop here.
And so yesterday, feeling a bit homesick, I made a big pot of beef and a side of mashed potatoes. Definitely not your standard Latin American fare, and I regretted having a burner going on the stove. But that’s why we have fans, right?
Every bite was worth it as I was transported back to my home kitchen, cooking up a winter meal for my boys, then to my dad’s favourite after-work supper, then to my Grandma and Grandpa’s dining room table. We don’t always have to be hard-charging forward, and that’s a lesson I have to keep teaching myself. Sometimes we just need to slow down, return to where we came from, and better integrate what we learned in that time and place.
Meat and potatoes, folks. That’ll cure what ails ya (for a certain breed of rural Canadian, anyway).
Homesick Pot Roast
Note: You can use a roast or stewing beef for this one. I picked up some beef chunks on sale and they did just fine.
Pat your beef dry and season with salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Get a large pot on the stove rocking hot and add a bit of olive oil. Sear the beef on all sides. Remove beef from the pot.
Add a little more oil and drop in:
1 peeled and halved white onion
3 roughly chopped celery stalks
2 large carrots, cut in chunks
Cook for 5-7 mins on high heat, stirring occasionally, until vegetables begin to soften and colour. Add your beef back to the pot and add:
3 roma tomatoes, quartered with core removed
1 tbsp dried rosemary
1/2 tbsp dried thyme
3 whole garlic cloves
Just enough water to cover the meat and veggies
Bonus points for 1/4 cup of red wine. Now, turn the heat right down and cover. Get it to a low simmer and cook for a few hours. This is not an exact science. You can use a crockpot, too, if you’re worried about doing it on the stovetop for this long – I just don’t have one here.
After a few hours, once everything is cooked through, remove the beef and set aside. Pour your cooking liquid through a sieve into the blender. Don’t throw out your veggies! I took the carrots and set aside to eat with my meal, and added the onions and garlic to the blender. Puree that up and put it back in the pot. Simmer down to reduce the liquid volume by half.
Shred your beef and add to the pot. Stir and enjoy with mashed potatoes and your already-cooked carrots!
Enjoy :)