Sometime in the middle of the night, as I was deep asleep, I felt a strange sensation. I felt a tumble, a rumbling, like that of a small earthquake, as if the bed was shaking. And then I felt like something punched my stomach! I squirmed, folded in pain. I opened my eyes and searched for an offender in the darkness of our Love Shack, but there was no one around. Then I felt it again. I realized that the seismic trembling was going on in my stomach. There was a battle that was being fought. The epic battle of good against evil (bacteria, that is) was taking place in the middle of the night and my sleep was the unfortunate collateral damage. My stomach was aching and it was loud. It sounded like there was a microwar being fought with microcannons and somewhere my antivirus were being ambushed by evil invading forces. My stomach was trying to repel the attack and its brutal enemies that were trying to take over. So, I immediately got up and ran outside, ran as fast as I could, in the middle of the cloudless dark night, going only by instinct towards where I knew the bathroom was located. And I guess my immune system repelled the first huge wave of attack, if you know what I mean. After a long while, I dragged myself back to the hut. My stomach was hurting still. I laid down for a couple of minutes and repeated the previous scene over and over all night long! But each time, I felt weaker and weaker. Ouch! Monica would sympathetically groan what sounded like “Are you OK baby?” and go back to sleep.
When light came over the island I felt very weak. I felt hot, feverish almost and cold at the same time. I shivered at times. I had a headache and was very nauseous. I felt terrible. I couldn’t sleep because my head felt it was going to burst. My body was aching; it was a cold empty pain that settled in my bones. And that pain that felt like a tear in my intestines, as if something had scratched it. What do I have? I asked myself. For a moment there I thought I had Dengue Fever, Yellow Fever, Cholera, Malaria or one of those diseases that only tourists pick up in the jungle. What is going?? Did I get bit by a mosquito? Monica answered me: “I told you not to eat that fruit from the floor! Yup, I remember clearly, ‘Don’t eat that’ I told you, but no, you didn’t want to listen!” She was right. It must have been that fruit that was succulent, ripe and juicy. As a married man, I should have said “Yes, Dear.” As a result of my whim, I was paying the price. I laid there, maybe 10 lbs lighter and hurting.
I tried many times to fall back asleep but I could only sleep 15 to 20 minutes at a time. I would wake whenever my stomach felt that a twisted hot metal was moving within or when I would move in my sleep and thus my body reacted with pain. Monica would come wake me often, which didn’t make sense to me. She would wake me to find out if I was feeling better or resting comfortably. Argh! Anna , the owner, gave me some burnt toast, boiled rice and ginger tea: a homemade remedy. I still felt bad. Monica then grabbed that plant that our former guide said was a miracle plant and put it on my head. It felt cool and like it was absorbing the heat from my forehead. I was trying to get up because we were supposed to go the Dolphin Dive Shop to go on our dive. But I knew that I wasn’t going to make it across the jungle with that volcanic trembling in my stomach or have enough strength underwater. I was hating life. I was even more disappointed when I was later told that the dive team went to a dive spot and saw a pod of dolphins swimming around! Man, I am still upset thinking about it. It’s one thing seeing dolphins in an enclosed environment, but how ideal, how magnificent would it have been seeing them in the wild.
Being sick in paradise sucks!
And so, I got back to my aches and laid in bed for hours and went into a deep sweaty sleep. It turns out that while I was asleep, Monica went to take a shower. The shower’s here weren’t a real shower. They were in an enclosed space with no ceiling or running water. There was a barrel full of water and a bowl. Well, while Monica was taking her peaceful shower she encountered a pervert peeping in on her! When she told me that, I was livid with anger! Forget the stomach sickness, forget the dashing to the Throne, forget the bursting headache, I was just feeling anger! I asked her how she found out she was been peeped on and she explained that the culprit had climbed a tree and since there was no ceiling, everything was visible from the tree. And to make matters worse, this pervert didn’t even try to hide, instead started whistling at her! She didn’t know where it was coming from until she looked up. She told me that she felt violated and immediately wrapped herself in a towel and came to our Love Shack, waking me up. I got up and went outside with blood boiling, stomach raging and met face to face with this perv! I stood there watching. The bastard was casually walking towards me like nothing had happened. And then whistled when Monica came out the Love Shack. I thought to myself, “Oh man, this is it. Is paradise lost? First, I get sick and now this! I get disrespected by a parrot!” Monica was cracking up. She got me. But I warned her that the parrot was going to pay! That I wanted fried chicken for dinner! Soon afterwards, I decided to go back to bed and quickly feel back asleep.
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Day 3. Paradise at Last! I woke up around 5AM because we were told that the sunrise was between 430 and 5AM. I missed it. It was bright; the sun was already out, which was quite disappointing. I zombied my way back to the bed and fell back asleep. We got up later on around 7 and started packing. We put everything in zip lock bags of all sizes. We were preparing for the worst. If the boat that was carrying us to Little Corn Island capsized, at least our stuff was going to be dried. We grabbed a taxi and went to the municipal wharf, which didn’t really look like a wharf at all. I guess it did, since it had a very small pier. As soon as we got there, we met a group of American girls. These girls were hardcore! Some of them spoke very good Spanish, some had been up and down Central America experiencing the culture in its raw form, and I based that solely on the experienced traveler look they had and all the kinds of medicine they carried. I mean, they had medicine to outlast any outbreak of some mutating virus directly from the jungles of Africa. They even offered us some of their field tested Extra strength Immodium for the “just in case” scenario. After a while of waiting for the “Skipper” to load the shipment of vegetables and other items that were to be taken to Little Corn, we boarded the small boat. We were undecided as to which side of the boat we should take. Do we take the front, where you take most of the hits and are sure to bounce all over the place? Or do we take the rear where it’s more stable but will get wet? After Monica decided at the last minute to go to the local pharmacy, we had no choice but to go the front because when we got back to the boat, everyone had already taken the back. We rode into the surf. I must say that it wasn’t as bad as I expected. I expected everyone to be throwing up left and right, for women and children to be crying, for waves to be hitting us from all sides, and as a married man: at least one near widow experience. Nope, none of that. We had bumps here and there and when we did everyone would laugh because Monica would scream like she was falling 90ft off the King’s Dominion’s Drop Zone. We got a bit wet, but the crowd in the back got very wet. I felt bad for some old man through whose face you could see the anguish he was going through.
The American girls we met. On the way to Little Corn Island.
As we got closer and closer to Little Corn Island, we were getting more and more excited as we saw the waters clear and become azure as we reached shallow waters . When we got there, we put our stuff on the pier. A scuba dive shop came along with many other business representatives asking us where we were staying and gave us a map of the island. Some guy was all over us. He kept saying the same thing over and over “Where are you going? I can take you. I’ll show you the way, follow me.” We told him we were going over to Derek’s Place, which we didn’t know was on the other side of Little Corn. So we did what goes against conventional wisdom. We decided to follow some unknown guy, in unfamiliar territory, into a jungle where there were no houses, no people, and nothing but a subtle fear that we were taking part of what could be one of those “based on actual events” horror films. No one would hear us scream if this guy would have been a machete-wielding psycho/entrepreneur who was in the business of selling tourist organs in the black market. All I could think about was the movie Turistas. If you haven’t seen it, it’s quite graphic and full of gore. Anyways, back to reality, we had all our gear in our backs which was about 50lbs a piece. We were very lucky to have new luggage that was very flexible and were the “Transformers of Luggage.” I am telling you, this luggage converted from a carry-on to a luggage on wheels with a pull out grip and finally to a backpack, a big backpack at that. (Thanks Dan and Carolina for this great gift! We wouldn’t have made it with any other!) We walked and walked and walked some more. The sun was beating us down and the heat of the jungle made us sweat. The 50 pounds on our back started to feel heavier and heavier.
Monica aka Rambo in the Jungles of Little Corn
We dragged deeper and deeper into the jungle. Monica was overwhelmed and I told the guide (and still suspected psycho killer) to take the luggage from her and to carry it. All these thoughts were crossing my mind. What if he’s making us walk to wear us down. What if he’s taking us somewhere where there will be others waiting to ambush us? What would be our plan in case anything went wrong? I said a quick prayer and kept walking. It made me feel a bit better that there was another couple following us. They were really struggling to keep up though. Our legs and arms got to meet the jungle’s mosquitoes on an intimate level as we walked for what felt like 40 minutes. But we kept walking. The suspected psychopath kept saying we were almost there, which we believed every time. We stopped at some plant that he claimed was a miracle plant. He said the locals used it for everything, from headaches, dehydration to even cancer. He picked up several big leaves and gave it to us. We continued on. Then the thick vegetation turned into palm trees as we heard the sweet symphony of waves crashing somewhere in the distance. We still couldn’t see the beach, but it was very exciting. We were getting closer and closer to paradise. We then saw the trees break open and the beautiful blue waters behind them. We walked towards the beach and were so excited, so happy, we were laughing. It was joy. It was relief. This guy wasn’t a killer! We were almost there! And paradise was upon us at last! We walked for a few minutes and then reached our destination.
Carrying a the luggage and a backpack... Whew! It was tiring!
A sneek peak of the beautiful beach Little Corn Island has to offer!
When we got there, we were greeted by Ana, the owner. She was very laid back. Verified who we were and told us to unpack and relax. Our guide, the former suspected organ dealer, stood waiting for his compensation. We asked him how much we owed him and he said 20. I was like wow, only 20 Pesos? That’s like $1. But then he was like, “No, 20 Dollars.” I gave the guy 100 pesos, equivalent to $5. I scoffed at his offer! $20 bucks! I would have understood $20 if he was carrying both our luggage, while providing some sort of transportation for us as well. Nicaragua is very cheap. This island was cheaper. He looked at me and thankfully took the dinero. Unfortunately for the couple that came with us, there were no huts available so they had to continue on with the guide (the would- have-been $20 hustler) onto a nearby place called Ensuenos, which we had only heard bad things about. We unpacked and let out a big sigh! We had reached paradise at last! Ana brought us some fresh opened coconuts with a straw. Who needs bottled water when you have fresh coconut water to quench the thirst? I laid on the hammock as Monica went inside our honeymoon love shack and unpacked. I was tired; exhausted, actually. But the trip was worth it. This place was amazing. It was a true paradise! The shade of the tall palm trees, the proximity to the beach, the cooling breeze of the ocean, even the way the ground felt with it’s mossy grass which felt like soft carpet, all added to the unique sensation that this was going to be unforgettable!
After unpacking, we didn’t do anything. We took a few pictures and laid in the hammock listening to the perennial sound of the breaking waves at the shore. We didn’t even bother to go in the water. That could wait. For now, all we needed was to enjoy this moment. Enjoy peace on earth. Let our thoughts flow with the wind that rocked the trees smoothly back and forth. Laziness and deep relaxation had settled in.
Enjoying a fresh coconut in paradise!
Amazing view (Check!), Ocean Breeze (Check), Hammocks (Check), Relaxation (Check!)
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