December 2006

I’m just going to scoot over December, till I get to the airport on Christmas morning…then it’s uphill all the way!

1st – 24th December

But couple of bits ‘n’ bobs did happen in December…

For example: my wee sis decided to go to Australia for a month. I was delighted for her to be going to see her life-long pal, Tracey and her boys. But, all the sibs had just had a great family weekend in Edinburgh, Julie talking about Oz and me talking about Nicaragua (as you can guess, we were the least favourite and most boring sibs that weekend!) Anyway, it came to our goodbyes…we wouldn’t see each other for a whole six weeks…and there I was spluttering and crying like a fool! How weird is it? Is it just knowing that she’s away? Is it because there wouldn’t be that option of speaking every day? Or, is it because I’m just a soppy old, babbling fool? (or, maybe I was just in tears because she left the same day as Donny Osmond’s birthday…so, not only was my sister deserting me, but on my ex-husband’s birthday!)

Answers on a postcard please…!

There was also the dance show of Judy Fielding School of Dance. Of course, there was only one real star – The Mighty Caitlin, who seems to be turning into an adult right in front of my eyes! (More tears!!)

Hey, maybe I’m just pre-menstrual?!

As I say every year – like the broken down record I have become – I don’t like to think about Christmas until after my birthday celebrations – which were fairly low key this year. Well, my liver can’t take much more…she’s really gonna blow captain.

However, this Victor Meldrew type procrastination, means that, come Christmas, there’s always a mad rush to do some Chrissie shopping! (mind you, that and gadget shopping are two types of shopping I enjoy). So, imagine my delight when I went out and managed to get all my shopping done in one sitting…well, one standing! Quite fantasmagoria…all I had to do now was wrap!

Wrapping done, it was now time for my last gig of the year – HM Prison in Glenochil. Well, what a night that turned out to be.

We had to be there (David and I) at exactly 7.45. We had to play from 8pm till 9 and then leave immediately. Hmmm, reminds me of the regime at the Carnegie Hall gig all those years ago. (Did I ever tell you about that?)

So, there we were. Glenochil prison, an establishment for long-term prisoners and lifers. Hmmm, sounds like just the sensitive Carol Laula-type audience!

And indeed it was, there I was singing about a Mexican transvestite (!) and all I could hear were tears…tears of bloody laughter!! Then I got telling these lifers, murderers, rapists to quiet down…aye right!

After a couple of songs, one of the guards – and there were many - asked if anyone would like to leave – no, not leave the prison (that would be David and I), but the gig – and, a few nods here and there meant that over half the audience up and left!

And who says prisoners get too much these days?

In the end though, those who were left really enjoyed themselves – even the guy who said ‘aye, yer voice is lovely hen, but gonni sing something we know – a couple of hits?’ I did tell him that all of the songs I was singing should have been hits, but he just didn’t get it!

So, suffice to say, the suffering I do for my art goes on…and on…and on!

There were lots of other things going on in December, like finishing off blocks of workshops here and there. One of which finished off with a show in The Bridge in Easterhouse, Glasgow. I don’t know if anyone has been to this fabulous place, but it is indeed tremendous. Big theatre, a lovely café with great food, lots of wee break out rooms and smaller performance spaces, a studio, a library, swimming pool. I know I sound like an ad for the Scottish Tourist board, but it really is a gorgeous place, even just to go and hang out.

24th – 31st December

So, now the biggie…get the kettle on, hot water bottle and a wee blanket – might be an idea to turn your phone off…unless you want to be disturbed!

Christmas morning, we were off to the airport.

There was a strange familiarity about it. And funnily enough, the guy who checked us in for was the same guy who’d done us last year – and, he remembered us!

This year, Newark airport was a little friendlier, or perhaps I should say, a little less frosty, than last year. That is to say, the customs woman looked at us before waving us into her preferred line!

Apparently though, Amanda has a double – in name and in looks! The customs woman took her fingerprints and her photographs, then looked at her pointedly and almost accused her of coming from Denver. ‘Well,’ said this woman in the most dead-pan fashion ‘there must be two of you’. Then, she curtly stamped her passport and bade her good day!

Next stop Houston and then off to Nicaragua. We were delayed a little which might account for the fact that our taxi driver was a wee bit grumpy!

By that time though, we were too tired. Too tired to really notice the passing streets of Managua, the extreme poverty we passed on the way to the extreme wealth, the security guards outside people’s homes, the interestingly hideous life sized dolls we passed on the way to our luxurious room, but not the heat…and this was just day one!

Thank god for air conditioning. You know, in my infinite wisdom, I blame the USA for all the emissions that are warming up the globe and that they didn’t sign up to the Koyoto Treaty and no wonder we’re all going to die…and stuff! But, when you go to a country like Nicaragua, you really see the globe warming up right before your eyes!

Next day, we were up and around Managua (capital of Nicaragua). It was a bizarre sight. It is a city devastated by war and by earthquakes.

There is an area, much like Washington DC where you wander around for hours to visit all the monuments and stuff. There is a massive church there, the inside of which was destroyed by an earthquake in the 80’s. Yet it still stands there, grand and haunting. The guide book said that this was a church with no heart in the same way that Managua was a city with no centre.

It is so true. There are no street names. If you are looking for directions, and god help you if you are! You are directed by statements like ‘yes, it’s three blocks up from where the post office used to be’ – Seriously!

Within this area, people warn you of the dangers – our taxi driver told us not to go ‘over there’ because there were ‘bad boys’ there! Then, when we did go over there – not foolishly, but because we felt safe – we met the bad boys who asked us if we wanted to buy a palm leaf animal that they had made. Then they told us not to go ‘over there’ because of the bad boys! So, it seems that everyone is afraid of everyone else!

There was a moment when four or five young children who were living on the street approached us. They were asking for cordobas for their mother who was sick (at least I think they were; bear in mind this is all in Spanish). Anyway, a taxi came by and I reached into my bag to get the guidebook to tell the driver where I was going. It seemed that my bag was now lying open and, perhaps some of these kids saw an opportunity. Amanda was quick to talk to them and distract them. And that was it…the danger! Some kids stealing pennies from me – which, let’s face it, they could use more than me

Now, I don’t mean to be flippant about this, this is a country that has seen terrible betrayal and terrible civil wars…I can see why people are afraid. But, like many of my trips, never at any point did I feel threatened or uncomfortable, in spite of what all the books tell you. But then, I live in the centre of Glasgow!

Near our casa, there was a fairground which we went to sit at, mainly just to people watch. There were all sorts…lots of security - everywhere…lots of very rich people and lots of very poor people – it struck me on day one that there didn’t seem to be much in between. One wee boy came over and asked for beer – he couldn’t have been much older than nine or ten. Someone gave him the beer which he then handed over to his dad – needless to say, not a family from the ‘very rich’ side!

Next day we set the pace…we were off to Granada. It seemed that we were going to be doing lots of moving on this trip.

This was our first bus journey – a wee collectivo – full to burst. And, as with last year in Guatemala, I felt like I was in a movie. All these people standing and shouting out what they were selling…snacks, drinks…lots of haggling, lots of noise, lots of trying to persuade people to go on your bus – especially tourists! Not that there were many of us…

So, off to Granada and, was it my imagination, or was it getting even hotter. I think on the trip, the weather was mostly between 30 and 45 degrees – often, the intensity of it was quite incredible.

Also incredible was the fact that there were two currencies in play, Cordobas and US dollars. The hotel we found in Granada was quite expensive - $40! Mind you, with the pound being so strong, we soon realised that it was in fact very cheap – more tequila money!

We did a wee bit of wandering about this day, visiting old forts and churches. We also too a horse ride round the city to see the sites. This was actually quite difficult, only because it took us some time to fine a horse with some meat on its bones. Suffice to say, that the animals were more Kate Moss, than Sophie Dahl, but we found a beautiful Sophie and had a great tour of the city.

In Granada, we took a walk down to the lake…the very huge Lake Nicaragua. It was a great walk and we just saw the most amazing life scenes…wee kids with no shoes on, just hanging out, boys playing baseball & basketball in the street, a parade of young girls who had just turned fifteen all dressed up in their fancy gowns…it was quite superb.

Then, we got down to the lake…it was dusk and so, the mozzies were out for dinner. And, as you’d expect, mozzies love me – my biggest fans infact!!! But, no problem for little old me…I was covered, head to toe in my not-very-environmentally-friendly mozzie spray. However, it seemed unlikely that we’d escape these mozzies. They were swarming. At one point, we thought that there was a lace curtain blowing in the wind over an archway, but closer inspection showed that it was in fact, mozzies! I will try to send a photo to Jo, it was amazing…and, you couldn’t see us for dust!

We were off, up the boulevard and back home to change into more mozzie spray and off for dinner!

We did go for an expensive tea-time tequila mind you! Two beers (Victoria is the local purvey) and two tequilas – it came to 150 Cordobas - $8 - £4! That was expensive on this trip!

The next day, we found a type of touristy place and managed to book a wee boat to go round Las Isletas; hundreds of islands on the lake – most of which were privately owned! Here we met some lovely Americans – lovely humble Americans. I didn’t manage to get many politics in yet…but, more to follow!

The islands were strange! That is to say, they were wee tiny bits of land that had a house built in the middle. Just one house usually. You could buy these for about $15,000 and do what you liked with them…one person bought and island for his monkeys! The some other islands had lots of houses, well shacks on them. So, once again, there was a stark juxtaposition of very rich and very poor.

We also took a trip up to lake Apoyo, a gigantic volcanic crater filled with water. We were expecting to go up and read and lie on a lovely beach and swim. However, when we got there, we had forgotten our books (!), the beach wasn’t lovely and the water wasn’t too clean! However, on the way back home, the guy driving the taxi stopped, saying that there was a family above our heads…I was expecting mum, dad and the kids to be floating above our heads. And they were, except, they were monkeys…just hanging out on the trees above us…chatting away to each other and screaming hellos at us – fantastic!

And again, we were off. We decided that it would be good to have new year on the beach. So, San Juan Del Sur (SJDS) here we come!

We had been warned about the difficulties of booking accommodation at New Year, that many places were booked up and that other places often doubled their prices…however, we were not prepared for what we came across in SJDS!

We got there, stepped off the bus, two nights before New Year’s Eve. We stepped into a room across from the bus station…it was beautiful and was only $20 per night.

However, for the next night – 30th December – the room rate was to rise to $50 – Except, it wasn’t available.

It was a pity, because the wee place was really lovely…clean, airy and big. No need for AC because of the cross window in the room – in fact there were windows on three sides of the room.

So, we spent most of this first day, not on the beach, but trying to get accommodation for the next two nights.

We stepped into the foyer of one place and met a very cold American who stopped us and asked ‘what is your status?’ Now, I’m not sure what that meant, was it like ‘are you armed?’ or ‘are you married?’ ‘or are you a terrorist?’, ‘or do you speak English?’ Either way, we didn’t wait to find out, we were dismissed by this rude man.

We went into one place which also raised its prices by 3-times for New Year…it was now to cost $15 per night!

I didn’t really have to look, but Amanda said that we should. So off we went…

Well, not much to say really, except that it was not exactly charming and in fact, the beds looked like sheets were thrown over four poles in the corner – Amanda tried to make it look lovely, but no…call me fussy, but I wasn’t taking any chances…my $5 nights were over long ago!

So, we found a place. Not a particularly nice or airy place, infact, quite dingy, but clean. However, we had no choice, it seemed that all the rich Nicaraguans came here for new year and there were no places left. So, we booked it – at a whopping great $135 per night!! The Paisley lass in me was well to the surface, but I just didn’t fancy sleeping on the beach, nor on that concave hammock in the cheap room, so, I paid it – god bless visa!

We stayed in SJDS for three nights in total – wow, long time eh? But it was where we brought in the new year. Days were spent on the most beautiful beaches…particularly one that we took a boat to. I thought it was because it was totally secluded. Which it was, but the reason you couldn’t get there was because most of the roads leading to it were all private and all the properties and land on the beach front were private and you weren’t allowed to trespass. It was quite unsightly…lying on a beach with a load of security guards and guns a few feet back, protecting the properties!

What I want to know is, who sells the land to whom in the first place? Surely a beach is for everyone? But no, it seems lots of Nicaragua only belongs to those who can afford it! Each night in SJDS there was a power cut from about 6-6.15 and then again from 7.30-8.15/30. Apparently, this was because of a botched electric privatisation deal! God, and now they’re letting them sell the beaches!

We had a surreal experience here one night. We were walking home – a late night for us – I think it was about 10.30 (the whole place seems to go to bed early!). Anyway, we heard music coming from inside a big hall. We went to find out what it was. There was a guard sitting on the door who eventually invited us inside.

And it was like stepping into a time warp. There was a massive live band playing and the happiest people I’d ever seen dancing and singing. Of course, we only happened to walk into an Evangelical church’s social evening! And of course, when we stepped in, everyone looked at us. And of course, the women in the group pushed (probably) the only two single boys in the place in our directions. And of course, we had to dance with them. And of course, a massive circle formed around us with all the congregation clapping and encouraging the young guys (probably) to marry us! And of course, dancing – as you know dear reader – is my idea of hell, well, of shopping at least. But, dancing in a circle with a load of very happy people determining my child-bearing abilities was a positive nightmare!

So, it was one dance and off…thankfully NOT pregnant!

Next morning we met one of the lovely Americas; Susan, an academic professor of women’s studies. We met her in Granada and on the bus down the coast, so it was nice to meet her and actually get talking.

Of course, I couldn’t help myself.

‘So, Susan, do you think we’ll ever see another Clinton in the Whitehouse?

And that was it…we spoke about politics and war and love and Chile (she had a Chilean lover – good thing to chuck into a conversation??) and Margaret Thatcher and all of those other things I love to talk about. She said that, while she was so anti-Bush, it hurt, it also hurt her that the Democrats were in such a mess and that she wasn’t sure if Hillary could unite such a polarised party and…I’m going to stop all that now and go back to Nicaragua!

We arranged to meet Susan that evening at 6pm – Scottish New Year - and jumped in a wee boat to that wee private beach I was talking about.

We were thinking that we’d get some food and water when we got there; there was bound to be a restaurant right? Wrong!

We got there in what must have been about 40 degree blazing sunshine to a private beach with very little available shade and nowhere to buy water!

The sunshine was unrelenting!

We did manage to scrounge some water from two ozzie guys who got us some from their campsite…food would have to wait!

This beach though, was quite stunning. There were about 20 of us on it, no shade, no refreshments and the biggest, ugliest, nastiest fly/wasp things you ever saw! I started getting a bit delirious I think. So much so, that I took my sarong, covered my whole body and went to sit in the water to read my book – ah, it was bearable at last!

Our boat returned to bring us back to the shore a little early. I was quite relieved, however, there was a guy – fluent in Spanish, but from another European country I think. He was absolutely mad. He was screaming at the guy on the boat, telling him how we had another 15 minutes and how he should wait for us all and, just going a little crazy…it was a wee bit scary and everyone was a little shocked, but then it blew over…I don’t know how anyone could want to argue like that in this heat – it leaves me to wonder how there could have been such a severe war for so many years – who could be bothered?

So, we left that drama behind and went in search of tequila and a Scottish New Year. It was lovely…sitting on the beach, toasting all of our pals back home. Big John was having his 50th that night and we couldn’t be with him…it was a real shame, however, we toasted him too.

Then, mental and trendy young things that we are, we went home to our dingy hotel room for a wee snooze before getting up for midnight and the Nicaraguan New Year!

Like Guatemala last year, this was quite a buzz. Lots of fireworks and lots of celebrating. Lots of people on the streets, some tourists but mostly locals. The place was buzzing – alive – fun – and yet, a little scary.

I don’t know how we managed it, but we ended up at some big fancy-nancy private party – my god, in Nicaragua, even the parties are private!

But, before we got there, we’d noticed all these dummies on folks windows or in their houses and stuff. We didn’t know what they were for until we say some people burning these – all symbolic and out with the old, in with the new type of thing.

Then we saw one of these dummies lying on the street. There were bangers stuffed in the body of the dummy and someone let them off…it was one of the most aggressive things I have ever seen.

It looked as though someone was lying on the street and there were about 20 people round him with guns riddling him with bullets…you know, just like a movie!

So, Happy New Year…

And, I’m going to have a toilet break here…

Go, recharge your glasses, or cups and join me very soon for a step back in time!

xx

Now onto January 2007 diary