When we entered the museum, we were quickly assigned a tour guide. The museum doesn't give tours in English, so we both had to work hard to understand our guide. I'm sure we missed a good portion of what he said, but we soon realized just how personal the revolution was to him. In fact, his brother, who had been a university professor, left his teaching position to join the fight. He was later killed on the rooftop of a building within eyesight of the museum.
Our guide walked us through the various rooms of the museum, taking time to explain in great detail all of leaders and events in the struggle. At several points during our personalized tour, he pulled out various magazine and newspaper clippings about the revolution that he had saved over the years. Overall, our tour lasted over two hours. I was so thankful that he took the time to explain everything to us, and that he was patient with our Spanish comprehension skills (which rival those of a two-year-old).
After we returned from the museum, we were fairly exhausted. So we spent some time taking advantage of our hostel's hammocks.
Looks like we weren't the only ones who were tired out.
We then enjoyed mojitos and met some new friends: Mario, a sassy and witty man from Guatemala who speaks English with a British accent and spent the last several years traveling the world, and Tor, a sweet and reserved guy from Norway who moved to Nicaragua to learn Spanish and ended up falling in love, starting a family there and working as a bartender at the hostel. We giggled into the wee hours of the morning and discussed everything from surfing to politics to electronic music videos.
It's nights like these that make me fall in love with travel over and over again. I adore meeting new people and learning about their lives and journeys.
Of course, having a strong drink in hand quite endears the experience to me as well.
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