Well, folks, its seems that I have made it.  Though I have been here for nearly a month, it would be remiss of me not to recount my journey into Nicaragua, as no good story is complete without an adequate beginning.

The airport in Managua is an experience to be had, indeed.  Though only about 4 people in Nicaragua have contracted swine flu, the Nicaragua CDC (which I can't even remotely take seriously) has taken on their job of preventing and protecting.  Every airport worker is fully equipped with gloves, masks, and hair nets.   As you arrive in the country, they insist that you step on some sort of contraption that displays your body temperature to all the world to analyze.  Because, clearly, if you have any sort of fever, the obvious solution is that you must have swine flu and you must be hosed down.

I survived the poking and proding of the high skilled and trustworthy Nicaraguan health workers to move on to my favorite airport experience- the getting of the bags.  This is only fun in the Nica airport, because it has become a spectator sport.  Baggage claim is blocked off by a giant glass window, which is guaranteed to be filled with faces, peering in at the new arrivals.  I feel as if I am stuck in some sort of gringa fishbowl, fair game for all the Nicas to scrutinize at will.  Our baggage was successfully claimed, but not after some argument over Kristin and Jeremy's new TV.