Following advice from a local researcher, we decided to drive to Lake Managua a few days ago to try to buy some fish from local fishermen. So, very early one morning, we made our way to the shores of Lake Managua (or at least, that's what where we thought we were heading).
At one point, there was a gate in the road. So...I got out of the car to open the gate. And that was about the time a soldier with a machine gun walked up to me and muttered something in Spanish (God, I wish I knew the language at that moment).
Fortunately, my colleague could speak enough Spanish to explain to the soldier that we were biologists on our way to the Lake to buy some fish. He gave us a puzzled look, asked for our identification, and disappeared into the darkness.
After what seemed like a very long time (enough time, at least, for it to be light enough to realise we had strayed into a military training zone), a more senior soldier came over. He was very friendly (uncomfortably so) and explained that the road actually leads to a restricted area and there are no fishermen near the area. Somehow, we had turned off the wrong road. Oops.
More pleasant run-ins today. A scantily dressed, extremely tanned, tattooed, handsome french guy (who looked like a model) was loitering near where we were doing our research. After casually looking at the bathers the guy was wearing, my student turns to me and says "Of course he is French".
We are back in Managua today. Flying out tomorrow.
2 comments:
Ah Ad Rad, but you are French too; aren't you?
I am way to prudish to be French.
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