Showing posts with label bike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bike. Show all posts

Granada

Having one day to explore Granada what better transportation than a bike.....

First..... 
Accomodation 


          
Mi Pequeno amigo from hostel cleaning his Dad's bike


A Superwoman Wifey Kind of Day:
 
Horse ranch and cows 



Visiting homes in poor communities

Cemetery ride around such beautiful stones with death present inside a palace of stones







 











In and out of the Central Market
 



                 
                                              Tired:(



                 







                                                      Cheese 












Coffee at Cafe Musica 
       


        


                                


Lake Nicaragua 


 

                

 
5 churches 







Chocolate tasting 

How to make a hammock










Hotel Alhambra 
Sitting on the rocking chair near the peaceful fountain and the  pool. I'm going to miss the rocking chair that's for sure  
 
Restaurants and tourist areas out of water 





Angel on my Shoulder

When I would leave my hotel, it would usually be daylight. It was not recommended to go out at night because it was "unsafe" for tourists. There was nothing to prove this to be true so I would occasionally walk at night.  Usually, this would be a short distance to the park to get some food, okay get a $1 slice of pizza. I was addicted and just love the fact it was $1 and so fresh and tasty. 

When I walked around the fountain area, I saw this boy on a bike in the distance. When I walked home, I again saw this boy on a bike following behind.  The last day, I saw this boy walking on foot near my hotel. 
Of course, this could have been coincidental as this boy looked super innocent.

He said, "Hello" with a huge smile.
He had to be about 16 years old. 

I said in a non-confrontational way
"I see you often around here."

He said, "I work across from you at the travel agency. This is my company on my shirt."
 
I said, "Oh I see. You like riding your bike."
 
He said, "Yes, I love my bike."

He would repeat his answer and he appeared a bit aloof, but very sweet and kind.
I was starting to notice that he could have  Aspergers or a similar diagnosis.

I said, "You are riding your bike at night a lot."

He said, "Yes I see you in the street and in your hotel."

I said, "Oh why do you do that? I'm not that interesting."

He said, " To help keep you safe."

We continued our conversation and I realized that he was not following me rather he was watching over me. He said that many bad people walk around at night. He was scared that something would happen to me.  He didn't come up to me because he did not want to bother me. 

What was interesting that this boy actually felt more nervous when he saw me talking to strangers. When I was near the pizza place, the park, and even the church. He said I should not talk to these people because they could be bad. 
It was clear this boy had a disability and it was clear that he was an angel on my shoulder.


Sometimes I feel invisible to danger because my strong connection with people. It's hard for me to remember that there is possibility for harm.  No matter how much I can coach them, calm them down, reason with them, challenge them, smile towards them, listen to them, and love them-danger is present within the environment and keeping safe is important. 

This boy took me down the street riding on his handle bars. I gave him a few pieces of candy and we parted ways. I'll never know if he really worked at the travel agency across the street or if he just came from a somewhere special...... 

Social Worker By Bike






This bike ride was truly just what the doctor ordered. My spirit and soul was craving a bike ride. I had been in the back of a pick of truck going to church, a shuttle van, and bus.  However, I had been missing the motor bike or motorcycle. It's one of the best ways to explore with the wind threw your hair, the nature in front of your eyes, the sky changing colors, the waves of the beach on one side, and trees on another. It's not about seeing how fast you can ride rather it's about slowing down to take in the beauty.  


As far as Stan, he was so kind and attentive he asked me where I wanted to go. I told him, "You know wherever you think is good." He said, "No where do You want to go?" You know this is a nice guy because sometimes gas is an issue. He owned some property and had a pretty good job. So we went off to go around the island and explore the unseen destinations.


The island has varying neighborhoods: some full of charm, some underprivledged, some Spanish, some Creole, some naturally stunning, and some just heartbreaking. As the bike went through these communities, I enjoyed the beach waves crashing, the pine trees, unexpected steep hills, and mountain areas. It was quite a diverse display of nature and also a clear display of poverty. The bike was suppose to be a joy ride, but unfortunately I take my work with me on the bike. We were laughing and having great conversation, but I couldn't help, but look in the eyes of those I passed by-sadness, in need of guidance, in need of a motivational speech or session.  Clearly, he was not up for making stops on the bike to talk to locals-pictures yes-social work-no.
Hearing much about the Frenchman's cove, I was interested to visit.

He asked me, "Are you sure you want to see there?"  
 "Yes, can we please drive in?"

I knew it was a poor community and I wanted to see it.  It was a Creole community with the crosses on the churches all in different shapes, the kids running through the streets, the houses built on a hill stacked up on top of each other, seeing the women cook through the windows in their big pots with clouds of smoke, the municipal building next to the basketball courts right on the water  Unfortunately, most people looked at me like, " What are YOU doing here?" They were not very welcoming and I kind of got the hint that maybe we should leave.  Instead of feeling sad, I just felt like this was a missed opportunity.  This was clearly a community that needed me and I was not there for them.. it just felt like a let down on my part as I didn't explore the whole island to see the truly bad areas.''

 Somewhere Over the Rainbow these people will fly... Fly far away into a safe place with no financial worries.





Being a nice teddy bear, he wanted to cheer me up so he took me for ice cream... well that is guaranteed to cheer me up.  Mr. Stan took me to an Iguana farm.  This is a farm of 100 plus iguanas just sitting around and staring at you.  They don't bite you or attack you...they just stare at you.  We were going to stop at a nice Hotel Casino/Resort, but the security guard would not let us through because it was after hours.  Unfortunately, my charm does not always work and I did not get us through the gates. Iguanas, parrots, and toucans were just as satisfying.  Nature beats out fancy hotels any day. 













As we continued along, there were some familiar places that came up for Stan. We passed by the area he used to live in, which has now been taken over my hotels and high rise condos.  Before, it was just a simple village where he lived with mother, father, and 4 brothers.  We also stopped at his house that was for sale.  The house had four large bedrooms, two living room areas, a nice kitchen, dining room-not to mention a full upstairs with two bedrooms and a balcony and two bath.  I mention this because he was renting it out for just $700 a month. He was having difficulty selling and just needed someone to rent it for the time being.  The economy is bad in Roatan and it's difficult to get someone to that location. 

For me, I thought that a selling point would be  it's location right across the church. Well, that would work for me, but perhaps not so much for others. I said, "How wonderful to live that close to a church."  You just open your window and hear the music on a Sunday morning-inspired to get up and go with such lovely people attending. Unfortunately,  He didn't seem that excited about it and nicely responded, "Some days you don't want to hear the music Priscilla." It's definitely understandable for a neighbor to want some silence from time to time.  

After this long ride and my talking and talking about how much I wanted a delicious local meal.  Looking for a small place with huge flavors.  Let's eat.....

Driving Miss Pris




There was a movie of the 90 s called, "Driving Miss Daisy." Well in 2014, there is small documentary called, "Driving Miss Pris." She gets dropped off in the American made car with the blonde lady driving. People are walking the streets and stand back as the car pulls in down the windy, dirt road. She feels this sense of US vs them. This feeling that she is Better or different than them. She strongly dislikes that feeling that she is someone better than them. The perception that she has a wonderful, perfect life while they encounter daily struggles-it's false so false.


She decides that she does not need a car between such a short distance. She just needs the transportation that everyone else uses. She needs a bike. She asks Mrs. Ravel for an extra bike and she rides this bike in and out of the community. She makes stops checking in with local residents, mothers, and families. She makes visits to the house and to businesses. She inquires about peoples daily routine, job opportunities, sources of support. She makes herself available to people who want a professional who is not superficial but a real person. She still has all the experience and skills along with a smile and human quality. 
She loves all the waives and attention when she is riding a bike. She also receives those with a big question mark.With no volunteers in the community- they wonder why she is there in their community?

She loves the bike, she loves the freedom, she loves to ride- just ride... Lana Del Rey