from the sunshine of Jinotepe to the Hell of Coyotepe

When I first came to this country I was a little nervous of public transport.

   Now, as long as the major body parts are held on with nylon cord as opposed to twine, I feel OK.

   This morning I set off bright and early for what I expected might be an all day trek.

Jinotepe, slightly west of the Pueblos Blancos was a good 45 minute ride from Granada.

  The route took a southerly course for a while before veering off towards the northwest.

  The terrain, as mix of forest and scrub brush was still relatively green, although every river we passed over was simply a dried up dust bed.

  Jinotepe, a town of about 30,000 was in the throws of a Saturday market with almost every street jammed with vendors selling a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables. Like almost all towns in this country it centres around a major church fronted by a park. A bandstand in the centre was surrounded by tall old trees shading a number of crisscrossing pathways. Most of the benches were occupied by old men and the odd young couple.

 From Jinotepe a mini bus ride landed me in downtown Diriamba, a smaller somewhat dustier version of Jinotepe. My main reason for being there was to check things out prior to the upcoming Fiesta de San Sebastian. A major religious festival and all-round party it apparently starts on the evening of 18^th and goes all the way through the 19^th of January.

 Again, a market, a church and a small park- then back to Jinotepe where my next bus took a round about route to Masaya via 4 or 5 other towns.

  On the way, dozens of small furniture “factories” offered rocking chairs, tables and chairs, dressers and bedframes.

 The bus arrived at the main market in Masaya in time for me to risk another lunchtime encounter with street food. Sufficiently stuffed, I hailed a taxi for a 20minute ride to Coyotepe.

  Originally built in 1904? as a fortress to protect Masaya, it occupies a large hill to the northeast of town where it offers a splendid view of Lake Masaya and both Masaya and Mombacho volcanoes.

 It was later used as a prison for political prisoners during the Somoza years. Now home to a local Boy Scout troop, one of their number provided me with a guided tour. Taking me deep below ground we visited a number of prison cells where hundreds of prisoners were held in absolutely atrocious conditions. Names and numbers of prisoners held are essentially unknown because records were destroyed before Somoza was finally ousted. The blackened walls and ceiling of one cell identified it as the area where the records were burned.

 One of the maximum security cells still had “shit stains’ on the walls. Guards above the cells defecated and urinated into the cell area as a form of mental torture and humiliation for the prisoners confined below.

 Occasionally a surviving prisoner will make the journey back to “meet their past”, adding to the written history of the place. My guide talked of meeting people with both physical (hands and fingers amputated or deformed) and mental reminders of their imprisonment, women raped and bearing children of (probably now dead) prison guards.

  Horror on a mediaeval scale yet this happened as recently as 30 years ago.

  Concerned for my safety walking back down to the main road ( 3 Europeans got mugged last week) my guide arranged for me to hitch a ride back to the highway in the back of another visitor’s truck. From there, a totally jammed bus picked me up for what was to be a rather squished ride back to Granada.

   From Jinotepe to Coyotepe in just over 3 hours- a small trip measured geographically, yet historically and emotionally, they are worlds apart.