¡Dame un Quetzal, puta!

…fuck this shit. Fuck Lonely Planet and their stupid green Central America guidebook with the shitty innacurate maps, the one that every single backpacker nerd seems to have. Seriously, everyone has one. It’s easy to spot because you have to carry it in your hands as it’s too big to stuff into a pocket. Maybe they’re designed that way, to be seen. The local gente must look at all the palefaces toting their green books every which way and wonder, what is IN those books? Money? Sacred and Forbidden Knowledge? These stupid books can literally make or break a business with swift and total ease. Regardless, I’ve been driving around Managua for an hour and a half, asking directions and trying to figure out whats wrong with this map. There are no signs here. The streets have no names. There are few landmarks. Lots of traffic circles befuddle, anger, and confuse the aging motocyclisto. I’ve circumnavigated the city. There is nothing to see here man, but at least we can check it off the list. And to think, I was even a little melancholy this very morn when I decided to blast off and strike for parts south, without having made a real go of checking out the ins and outs of this great Nicaraguan metropolis, the pulsating heart of a nation. I tried to visit the ancient cathedral ayer but it was off limits, the whole block shut down and inaccessible to adenturismos even, with some sort of “evento” taking place. Tal ves in my honor? I’ll never know. I speak little Spanish. Whatever, I’ve seen the cathedral twice now, once stopping right in front to let the CB cool down after fighting through the morning traffic and curs. I dont really feel so bad now, because I’ve seen Managua and gotten lost in its streets, stuck in its traffic, just like a real deal Nicaraguense. I’ve tasted this place and gotten sand stuck in my teeth. Managua is boring really, and safe. It’s not Tegucigalpa, the Central American capital of danger and violence and sex. Indeed, for the most part, Nicaragua has been a safe and clean place, and kind to me man, with impeccable roads free from carnage. But remember, we’re in the West now and everyone knows that the West is the Best. And things might change once we strike for the land of the rising Sun…

So where did you get your Lonely Planet guide book? There’s one for every lugar, player. Allentown, PA? Si. Athens, GA? Yes. Best place to grab a beer and get stabbed in the neck with a Drano filled hypodermic needle cerca de Levittville, NY on a shoestring budget? C’mon, baby. Facil! All this and more can be easily had in the Lonely Planet series of guide books. But don’t get caught holding one of those MooN guidebooks. Complete rubbish man. Abi’s MooN guide book for Oaxaca contained a boxed-text warning about the culture of machismo, so prevalent in old Mexico, urging single females to forsake their culottes for pleated long-pants and, in the event of unforseen machismo, to seek shelter within the confines of any large, passing Mexican family for safety, protection, and maybe even a chance invite to one of those famous Mexican picnics. Best to leave your alternative guide books at home under the blankets, lest the LP thugs spot you with one and secret you away to one of the myriad blind alleys down here and break all your fingers and toes with a ballpeen hammer. They’ll do it man. I’ve seen it. I got mine from some Austrian, or Australian, chic in Oaxaca. Thanks lady, I owe you one. Stupid maps. Me pregunta whether the 2013 end of days edition will contain a boxed-text excerpt about your favorite adventurer…

Fact or Fiction:

Legend has it that a ghostly lonesome motorcyclist roams the roads of the Ca-4, and will do so until the end of time, a perfect combination of man and machine. He speaks little Spanish but is rumored to approach palefaces demanding only a single Quetzal, handsome as all get out and rebelling against whatever you got.  ¡Dame un Quetzal, puta! If he offers you a ride, remember that it’s your choice and that there are no guarantees: You could have the time of your life…or you might just wind up getting thrown from the freedom train.



4 responses to “¡Dame un Quetzal, puta!

  1. Ryder Strong! What are these large paper mache figures you have pictured in this post? They are very intriguing- the one with the stache wearing the dunce-like hat looks a little like Marlo! And what’s up with the long haired red shirted one with the one big boob sticking out? Pinatas?

  2. A little trip to the museum of legends and fables in old Leon yielded these gems. The lady with the tit popping out represents the legend of Toma tu teta! or Grab your tit!.

    “This legend is about the daughter of a wealthy landowner. She was a young woman with a large head, sour face, few friends, bulging eyes, a mouth quite pronounced, a long nose, a wide well-developed body like a man, thick and muscular arms and extrememly large tits. With all these qualities and despite being the sole heir to her family’s fortune, she was never able to find a suitor.

    She would go out into the street and when she would find groups of men she would choose the one that she liked and grab him and not let go. Pulling out one of her beautiful “pitchers of honey” she would say, “Take your tit! Take your tit!” until they got the huge nipple into their mouth. Whence she was satisfied she would release them.

  3. haha that’s hilarious! I think she and Paul Bunyan would’ve made a great couple. Thanks for the info:)

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