A perfect heart. A boat and brilliant flowers. Arteries etched in sand. And an abandoned, washed up dream.

Jose may be missing his leg but he has his son Francisco and dog Oso who pick him up every day and brings him to the river by the edge of the sea to see what they can see. Jonathan has the intricately beautiful art made by his mother to hold and to sell but he doesn’t have the tourists to buy it. And we may each lack a magic wand but at least we do have the hearts that could wave it.

He carries a mosquito fumigation gun which routinely blasts mosquito-killing chemicals into homes and businesses in town. She carries a pail full of plantains on her head. He carries upon his head fresh strawberries balanced on a full and well-cared-for box labeled Washington State Apples. Babies are carried in the crook of one arm while the bicycle is steered with the other. Grandmothers are carried, seated side saddle, on the back of son’s motorcycles. And hidden away, but just as colorful and unique, each one of us carries our hopes, dreams and fears.

•Wednesday Night was Writer’s Group: 6 Writers •Thursday Afternoon was Speed English’s first event: 10 English-Language Students & 10 Fluent-English Speakers •Friday Morning was Water Aerobics at Pelican Eyes: 6 of us old farts keeping in shape •Saturday was Farmer’s Market at Big Wave Dave’s: Many people •Sunday was Oscar Danilo Collado Dinarte’s church youth group at our house for a swim: 13 darling kids learning how to swim and 7 lifeguards I sweep the house. Do a load of laundry. And take a long nap.

On September 15, 1821, The Central American provinces declared their independence from Spain, and for the past several months here the local students have been preparing for the annual celebration. You could hear drumming at all hours of the day, and some nights. It became background music, joining the steady beat of the waves. But what a grand celebration it was! This was our first year here for it. Last year our home was rented out for this long weekend, so we remained in the States until our house was free. And the year before, we’d just left Nicaragua to …

Water tanks. We see them everywhere in Nicaragua. And in Mexico too, when we lived there recently. On top of houses. On metal structures in fields by houses. And rows of huge tanks in housing developments, alongside roads. In Mexico they call them tinaques. Here in Nicaragua they’re called tanques. Their function is to hold water, which has either been pumped up to them from a well or fed directly from the town water supply. In our case, it’s a 1,100 liter (290 gallon) plastic blue tank which sits on the ground behind our house. Two water lines come on …

I love having lunch at the Mercado in the center of town. Ok, I ordered breakfast and John ordered lunch. They serve both throughout the day, regardless of time. I had scrambled eggs with veggies, local cheese, avocado, gallo pinto which is rice and beans, and fried plantain. John had beef tacos which came with shredded cabbage topped with cream and ketchup. We drank fresh juices, pitaya (dragon fruit) and calala (passion fruit), which came topped with plastic bags to keep the flies off. To the right of the juices you can see a large jar with a red lid. …

Yesterday, when Kathleen Brugger and I took advantage of low tide to hike out around the headlands on the north side of San Juan del Sur’s gorgeous bay, we ran into a lot of fishermen. And I, in my broken, semi-fluent spanish, asked them “What are you fishing for?” (Para que estan pescando?) I was expecting to hear the names of fish I’d never heard of in spanish, and, to be honest, possibly had never even heard of in english, since I don’t fish. But it’s a common enough question to ask a fisherman, right? I am Puerto Rican and …