Crossing the Border . . .

Yesterday (Sunday), we spent the day traveling from Costa Rica into Nicaragua. We had to travel from Santa Rosa back to Liberia because you can't catch a bus into Nicaragua as close to the border as Santa Rosa. So, while we were only 12 kilometers form the border where we were staying, we traveled an hour back to Liberia, waited on the side of the street to flag down our bus, and then rode for another hour and a half by bus to the border.


Once we arrived at the border, we waited in line, clinging to our backpacks strapped across our chests, to exit Costa Rica. Then we all boarded the bus again, and the bus drove across the border and then through a car wash kind of device which sprayed the bus down to kill any hitchhiking insects, which we found hilarious since they could surely just fly or crawl across the border on their own, right? Then we all unloaded all of our large luggage this time and waited in yet another line with all of our belongings. I wish I had pictures to show what we saw and experienced, but this was not at all the place the pull out a camera. We waited here for hours in the heat, holding all of our bags, with no place to sit down and no bathrooms. We snacked on cookies knowing we would not be eating lunch that day. While it is easy to imagine being upset about this, I just couldn't be because I saw a man digging through the trash to find discarded scraps of food, and I could only be so thankful for my cookies no matter how hungry, hot, and tired I was.

We really found out how unpredictable the border can be when our leader and her eleven year old daughter were forced to stay behind in Costa Rica. She has dual citizenship (CR and US), and our leader had been told by immigration authorities before the trip that she would not need a visa to enter Nicaragua as a Costa Rican citizen. But once we got to the border she was denied entry without the visa. Her US passport had expired earlier this month, or she would have been able to enter as a US citizen. It was emotional for everyone to be separated, and it really caused me to think about the trauma of family separation our immigrant students experience. In our case, we know they will be able to join us in a day or two or three, or worst case we will meet them when we return to Costa Rica on Thursday. For our students, the separation is often for years or even for the rest of their lives. The sacrifice is nearly incomprehensible, but witnessing the circumstances which motivate these decisions overwhelms me in certain moments.


So, now we are here (minus two) in Granada, Nicaragua, the oldest colonial city in all of the Americas. It is a beautiful city, and after our previous stop, I am really appreciating the absolutely lovely hotel and the first air conditioned accommodations of our journey.



Sorry I can't rotate this picture of our hotel here in Granada, but just tilt your head! You can see a volcano on the horizon.

I'll send an update soon now that we have internet access!