Two Countries, A Salmon Steak and Cuckoo the Gecko

Managua, Nicaragua is a place of surprises. Or at least that's my most immediate impression, having been here all of nine hours.

From the moment Hope and I got off the plane, a softness presents itself. Not the softness of too much leisure but the wisdom of recognizing survival comes through caring about others. Because despite decades of corruption, war and destitution the people we have met here so far are kind. Although pummeled by outsider influence -- mostly from the U.S. -- society hobbles along, saddled by an odd combination of comfort and poverty. Of the six million people in Nicaragua, nearly half are in Managua. Gleaming new white Toyota trucks share the roads with thin brown horses pulling wooden carts, the few well-heeled in sharp contrast to the many impoverished. These are just a few of the contradictory surprises we've encountered so far.

Or take, for example, tonight's dinner at Pane e Vino. An open air and upscale restaurant about two blocks from our hotel, this place boasts three patios dotted with palm trees. A string of Christmas lights circle each trunk, host to a party atmosphere egged on by floating whiffs of American jazz carried on the soft breeze. It would be easy to forget the small barefoot boy begging at an intersection just nearby, comfort and ease in a sprawling metropolis of poverty.

I ordered pan seared salmon with fresh vegetables, which arrived on a lovely white platter of fine presentation. The taste was even better, cooked to a crispy perfection on the bottom before melting at the tongue on top. Who would have thought that the best salmon steak could be found in Managua?

So now, after having only slept a couple hours in the past 24, Hope and I will retire to our room named Sarah under the watchful eye of the resident gecko she has named Cuckoo. Until tomorrow: sweet dreams.