A trip in the making

I wasn't quite sure if I would ever go. The many years hearing about Nicaragua had left me wondering if the place really existed. From the earliest of my memories, Nacatamales, Bajo, Indio Viejo, Salpicon, Gallo Pinto, plantanos, maduros, mondongo, and every other essence, smell and comfort of Nicaragua permeated into the core of my soul. I knew about Nicaragua but I didn't belong to Nicaragua nor did Nicaragua belong to me. She was a distant notion. Like an Aunt that your heard about but never met because she died before you were born.

As a small child growing up in the great city of Los Angeles, I remember all these things about her as being part of who I am. When family visited from Nicaragua, they brought a little piece of Nicaragua with them. Spanish was the primary language spoken to our parents in our home but English came naturally. It was second nature, no doubt.

While growing up, the thought of visiting Nicaragua was off the radar. It was for those who have already been there or were born there. It was far fetched. I really didn't care to consider the notion of ever visiting her. Even being married to a Nicaraguan didn't stimulate or stir the senses to want to go to Nicaragua.

One day last summer Sarah told me, "Mom, I want to go to Nicaragua for my "After-the-Bar Trip." We had celebrated her graduation from UCLA Law School on May 8, 2009 with a grand party that we talked about for weeks. The studying for the bar exam was probably getting to her head, I thought. Her peers are all probably talking about where they'll go to celebrate after two intense months of studying for the bar exam, I thought.

My response to her comment came automatically as if I had rehearsed it all my life, "You can't go to Nicaragua without me." The rest is history by the grace of God.