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Ever ride a moonhopper when you were little? I think that is what they are called. Usually a kind of hideous peachy-pink colour, with 2 ear-like things to hold on to while you sit on them and bounce around. Well, I got to relive this thrilling activity at my latest gym class. Yes, I realise I should rename my blog something like "10 reasons to join foreign gyms" and its probably not the usual "I woke up at 7am, ate 2 pieces of toast with penutbutter and caught a bus to X" blog (which I know a certain sister-flatmate of mine loves to read) but hey, its what entertains me most. So there I was, ready for me next gym experience - aerobica. Try to imagine the chaos that would arise when a room full of crazy gym women are each given a swiss ball and told to bounce around the room on them. There were shrieks and collisions, fits of giggles and thumps as many bounced up and right off the side.
My host family is great. It has taken me a while to figure out who is who and what the relationships are but I think I have it mastered now. My host mother lives there with her sister, her sister's husband and their 10 year old daughter. Also in the house is the abuela (grandma), who speaks in barks rather than sentences. I find it hard to decipher if these are questions or statements so my theory of always replying with "si" doesn't always work. There is a slightly rat-like dog, a cat with massive eyes and powerful vocal cords and a hamster named Muchacho. Sometimes the other sister comes with her 2 daughters and the house is pretty packed. I love meal times. A veces it involves 6 of them shooting rapid questions at me at the same time and at other times I get to listen to big family discussions, picking out words that I understand and trying to capture the gist of the conversation. Its definitely great for my Spanish. We have long discussions on everything from who is more 'guapo', Johnny Depp or Hugh Grant (Johnny, obviously), to the differences in schooling following the 10 year old telling me she starts school at 7am and finished at 11.30.
The grandma watches soap operas all day, which are left on for the more quiet mealtimes. I have been introduced to some true quality soaps... like the Portuguese one set in India (as if it wasn't hard enough in Spanish!). Or my personal favourite, the one which involves the medium, the quadriplegic and the 3 brothers who turn into horses. Obviously I had to keep up New Zealand's reputation by describing the greatness that is Shortland Street. Maybe upon my return to NZ I can suggest to the directors that a new storyline (not that the murder/affair/pregnancy/death sequence is getting boring or anything) could involve Chris Warner turning into a horse... pure brilliance.
No major Spanish mix ups to report. But I did get very confused by my host mother's attempt to explain to me that the cat was pregnant. She was standing there, making 'my stomach comes out all the way to here' movements and then pointing at the cat. Unfortunately, as the cat was directly behind me, I thought she was pointing at me. I thought it must be some clever ploy to get me to eat less food at mealtimes... There was also the time I tried to by panadol for a headache and came home to discover I had purchased some weird vitamins. Or how my attempts at describing 'sheep' at dinner resulted in 'spider' and 'pig', although this was nothing a bit of acting out didn't fix.
My weekend was spent hiking up La Conseguina, a volcano in the northwest of the country. We were already sweating from the 5 hour bus trip when we arrived at the start point. Carrying mass amounts of water we trudged along a road covered in deep volcanic sand stuff (insert official name for it here) and sweated our way up to the forest path. Did I mention how sweaty we all got? Yep, to that "what is that on my elbows? Oh, just sweat droplets rolling off" level within the hour. We hiked through the forest uphill for 5 hours to sleep on the forest floor just below the crater. I'm not sure what was more amazing, the feeling of taking off my heavy pack or the sight of the crater lake before the sun went down. Lying in my sleeping bag and gazing up at all the stars after dinner around a campfire, I was pretty content with life. Less so in the morning, after discovering both why my ribs would have appreciated a mattress and how much the insects loved me. Luckily, La Conseguina put on the most amazing sunrise to compensate for any discomfort. Stunning. A bright orange sun reflecting not only on the sides of the crater but also on the ocean and islands below. I was standing in Nicaragua but looking out to both El Salvador and Honduras; sharing the moment with 2 Germans, an American, an Israeli, an Irishman, 2 French and 8 Nicaraguans. Priceless.
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