How many parts to a broken heart

I got up early in hopes to find some kids awake so I can unload my gifts. I strolled around the quiet town to breathe it all in for one last time. The streets were covered in what remained of terminated firecrackers. It looked like paper confetti had been heavily poured over the walkways - this is no exaggeration. My ringing ears prove that it wasn't all just a noisy dream.
I managed to find some kids up and about...my Christmas presents went to these early birds.

After going to the back local market in search of street-breakfast, i headed back to the hotel to find the private van waiting to get loaded up. I brought my bag over and tossed it in the back. As dark as I have already gotten, I found a patch of sun to sit in so i can write in my book. From across the street, I see a guy with his dog staring at me. I give a polite wave and he begins to walk over.
His name is Roger Jr. and he's 23 years old. He was taking his dog for a walk when he saw me and he says he needed to come over to talk. We only had half an hour before my van was leaving so we managed to have a conversation without pauses. He spoke English with some Spanish. We talked about how our Christmas celebrations were. I explained to him what i did...and what i would rather have been doing. His celebrations were none too exciting either as he spent it with people he didn't care much for. I wish I met you earlier, he says...then I can show you what a real Christmas celebration is like.
Like most Nicaraguans, he had a lot of lines. He asks a question that strikes me, "how many hearts have you broken?".
I pause to think but mainly because i was shocked he was asking. "Nada", I replied. He snaps back immediately, "none that you know about".
He was right. I explained that the heart is protected with what it doesn't know - ignorance is bliss.
We said goodbye and I got in the van. I put my bachata Cd's in the player and we rolled over to Leon, Nicaragua. I slept most of the way there and when i woke up, Leon surrounded me. This town is same-same but different from Granada. The vibe is different. The people are different. Granada was charming and cute...Leon is real. It's still a colonial town, but there's an air of attitude in the walls and it was evident in the faces of the people. Graffiti of a revolution and 'viva Daniel' were written throughout the town.

We got to the hotel and only had time to put our bags down before heading to Volcano Cerro Negro. Today, on Christmas day, we would sand board down an active volcano. We were given two options...you can choose to sit (sled down) or stand (snowboard). I could have easily taken the easy way and sit, but i wanted to challenge myself. I know how to snowboard, so how much harder would it be on sand, right?? The tour guide, David, says it's slightly harder that snowboarding but it's still very easy. You won't fall, he says.

After picking up our boards and driving to the base of Cerro Negro, we start a 45 min hike - straight ascent on lightweight volcano rock. There were no ski lifts, i didn't expect there to be. With every step, I get more nervous. Once we reach the top, everyone took photos of the 13 volcanoes that cut across the country. Smoke comes up from the volcano we are standing on.

I was expecting to see sand as it was marketed as "sand boarding"...i was mistaken. It was like snowboarding on gravel. Upon the advice of David, I decided to go down the 40 degree slope facing the volcano...even though I'm more comfortable the other way. My gear slipped off me about two to three times as i was going down. I had to readjust in the middle of the slope because my foot kept sliding out. It was difficult but i didn't say no; i kept going. My foot slipped out again and i decided that going down the hill was no longer safe. I took the board off and slid it down. I ran the rest of the way down. The gravel left a nice mark on my left knee (on one of the occasions my gear slipped off). Blood oozed and i quickly put disinfectant on it to try and clean it up. I was dusty, bruised, and bleeding. But at least i knew that i accepted the challenge and gave it what i got.

We got back to the hotel and i took a shower. I had some dinner and had some much deserved rum. It was my second chance/attempt to go to Christmas mass. Roger and Mereki decide to join me. We headed to the nearby cathedral (there are 17 churches in the city of Leon) and caught the tail end of mass. I tried...
This heart can only be broken so many times.

While we're already in town, we decided to wander around. The plaza was bumping! It seemed like the entire city was in this one corner of town. Street vendors lined up and everyone was with their families. Photo-shoot stations were set to make it look like children were in a snowy North Pole...families lined up to create such an illusion for their child. People crowded around the Nativity set near the water fountain. After strolling, we headed back to the hotel. I stayed up to write in my book in the open courtyard. The boy who was manning the front door (son of the hotel owner) came by to talk. He didn't speak a lick of English. I did my best at Spanish. Mereki came over to chill in the open air with us for a while.
I look up and notice the stars as i have been doing almost every night since I have gotten in Central America. The moon is glowing and almost full.
I think. I write. I read. I go to sleep.