New horizons

Chapter 3… The Chinandegan magpies

The beaches at Poneloya and Las Peñitas Leon, Nicaragua
The beaches at Poneloya and Las Peñitas
Leon, Nicaragua

My grandfather’s name was Jairo Alonso Díaz Alvarez García y Hernández, or at least, that is how it was officially registered in his birth certificate. He never introduced himself as such. To those who knew him personally, he was called Jairito or simply Jairo.

Grandfather was born in Chinandega City (1941), northwestern Nicaragua, near the border to Honduras. With his characteristic sense of humor (at times a bit dark and dry), he used to say that at the time he was born, only the churches were still standing, in that one-horse, two-bit, bicycle town. He was surely talking about the devastation, brought about by the artillery bombs that destroyed most of its colonial district, sadly including its graceful old houses and its elegant mansions. This happened thirteen years before he was born. Once more, the constant encounters between Conservatives and the Liberals (or in his words: another spot on the leopard’s skin). On that particular occasion, the bombs fell as part of General Sandino’s campaign to run the American forces, mainly the US Marines, off Nicaraguan territory… one more time…


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The Chinandegan Magpies

Chapter IV   The Chinandegan Magpies

“My Hope Store“.     Leon City, León Department, Nicaragua

“When I was a child, I learned an important lesson, and I believe it’s helpful still. I discovered that we all need our own personal space, to be alone with our thoughts, our feelings, and with ourselves. The bicycle ride, to the port, in the mornings was my personal space. It was a moment for reflection, I could go through the things in my mind, look back at all that was happening and sort them out. When I arrived to the wharfs, I had found my balance and my inner peace. By then the fishermen were returning from the sea and the day’s catch. The waves gently tossing the boats to and fro, those crazy seagulls flying around, excited and filling the air with their calls and shouting, and we would catch sight of each other. They would be out in their boats, tired and hungry; and I sitting on my bike and standing on the pier. Our lives were so different, yet there we were, all together, present and accounted for, ready to talk, to laugh, to joke, and to smile a big, warm smile, at the beginning of a brand new day

In Spanish


    Chapters: In the land of volcanoes


    Chapter III  Chapter V


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