Leon, it's like a never knew you...

As mentioned in the previous post, there's a certain je ne sais quoi about this town of Leon...so today, i made it my mission to get acquainted with him.

While the rest of the group went off to the beach, Deborah and I stayed behind to wander. We walked through the streets and ended up going to the cathedral at the plaza. There was a big mass happening so we went in. From what I understood, it was the bishop who was giving the mass so there were cameras rolling and people dressed to the nines. During mass, a girl approaches me. Her name is Christina and from what she tells me, she lives a tragic life.


Her baby Olivia is in the hospital with brain cancer. Olivia is in the hospital and Christina travels every weekend for an hour into town to visit her baby. To add to this, her mother had died not too long ago. She goes into the church every weekend to pray. She walks with Deborah and I outside of the church and it seems like she's giving us somewhat a tour of the town. Christina points out the location of where the four 'Sandinista' college students were shot and killed. I knew something was up...she wanted more than just to show us around town. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and carried on around walking with her anyhow. Eventually, i told her that we would need to go separate ways because Deborah and I have a schedule to keep up. That's when she said it. I knew it was coming; she asked me to help buy special milk for her baby. I didn't think much of it, how much could milk cost? Christina takes us to the Pharmacia to buy special milk and the guy behind the counter tells us it'll cost 365 Cordobas ($18.25USD). I didn't even have that much for myself as I was starting to run out of money at this point. She begged, but there was nothing i could do...i didn't have it. I explained that I couldn't ask my friends for money, it's not right. I gave her 20 Cordobas and walked away. Whether her stories were true or not, it felt bad to walk away. She's still a person with human emotions, as am I.

Deborah and I headed back towards the plaza for brunch after some light shopping. The day was getting hotter, and I was getting darker. Walking through what looked to be endless street vendors, we see a walkway that led through a building...this was their food court. If outside was their shopping mall, this not-so-little building housed people as they re-fill their bellies and socialize with their neighbors. Just like a North American food court there were babies crying, people casually meeting up for lunch, and families in conversation during a meal. Food vendors however had all of their food laid out in the open. These women (usually larger women who wore frilly pastel colored aprons) would call 'mi amore' and tell them to have some food. They would announce what kind of food they have available to entice you while they throw flattery your way. Everyone was beautiful...everyone was 'mi amore'. Soup looked to be the big seller for lunch, even on a hot day.
After lunch, we were in search of fresh pineapple juice. We walked through the food court and over to the other side of the building where they were selling produce. Along the side of the building were juice vendors. After asking and searching for a vendor who would make us fresh pineapple juice, we meet the cutest little lady who was more than happy to add pineapple juice to her list of available juices. She walked over to a produce vendor to buy a pineapple just for us. We make conversation, and as most previous conversations...she doesn't speak English so i do my best at Spanish. She tells me that she has two sons. One is married, and the other is a 40yr old single man living with her still. She laughs in embarrassment. We talk about our lives and enjoy her company; 45 min must have passed and we were still in conversation. Deb and I bid farewell, and we decide to face the heat outside.

(below is an image of the foodcourt)

After 10 minutes outside, we decide that it is no longer bearable and a siesta is needed. Refuge was found in our A/C rooms which was rare for the both of us because we both shared a strong dislike for A/C. I wrote in my book and updated earlier parts of this blog. When we decided to stop being lazy North Americans, we headed back outside for a stroll. On our walk back to the hotel with our fudgesticles, we see the rest of the group unloading a van and heading back to their rooms - perfect timing. We find out that it is Roare and Hanne's last night with us so we all decide that we would go for a nice group dinner. After eats at what was similar to "The Cambie" the group split up. Some went for more drinks, some went home to rest for the next day's trek.

We lose two more A-gamers. Those two were Norwegians who were down for anything at anytime. It gets quieter...