When I first arrived to Granada, I would take early exploring walks through my neighborhood before the summer heat would begin to hover heavily over the day’s movements. On one such morning, I fell into one of those easy spontaneous exchanges, that Nicaraguans so freely initiate throughout their day, with an older man (in his third age, as they kindly say here) sitting on his porch. He saw me admiring his pretty street and eagerly wanted to know what I thought of his city. I did’t have to embellish the truth.
Granada is surely the most beautiful city in Nicaragua, I said.
He shook his head and smiled at me almost paternally. No, he calmly corrected me. Granada is the most beautiful city in Central America.
Ahh, there it was. That wonderfully compelling Granadino pride. Continue reading “My dearest Granadinos, you have my heart completely.”