Image by  Aaron Burden on Unsplash


  My (R)evolution, part 12.

The decision has been made, there’s no way back anymore in my mind. I am leaving the island, leaving Nicaragua, the beautiful country that has been my welcoming home for 13 years. 

In the weeks running up to my decision to pack up my life and leave, I’ve been keeping track of the news, which keeps showing more of the same: more peaceful protest marches of people demanding that the president and his wife step down. More police violence, more deaths every day. A National Dialogue with representatives of all groups involved, not coming to any kind of resolution or agreements. The situation isn’t improving, but also not escalating dramatically. Just slowly deteriorating.

Tourism in Nicaragua has come to a grinding halt. Businesses are laying off people, closing down.

Our little island at this moment probably is still the “liveliest” when it comes to tourism because it is a relatively safe place that people can reach by air, avoiding all trouble on the mainland. But it’s only a handful of unfazed travellers that makes it down here.

We’re running low on supplies, and nobody can guarantee us any deliveries any time soon, with all the road blocks being maintained firmly in place on all the major roads on the mainland.

The future has started to look pretty grim, when it comes to sustaining ourselves in the tourist industry, which is my only source of income too.

Image by Benoit Gauzere on Unsplash

   My (R)evolution, part 10

When I first wrote this it had been more than 7 weeks that Nicaragua, my country of residence, had been in a state of social unrest, political upheaval, or let’s just call it a revolution.

I’d been blogging almost daily for a while, feeling a strong urge to put my thoughts to paper, since there were so many, and sometimes it was so hard to make sense of my own mind.

My thoughts were swerving back and forth, left and right, sometimes like a drunken man winding his way through an empty street. At other moments more like a puppy, or a kid, always out to explore and figure out the world through play, trial and error. There’s a philosopher in there too, asking questions and giving smarty-pants comments. And an eco-warrior, never letting up her drive to improve the environment. Every now and then (but thankfully not very often), there’s a hunted deer, frozen in its fear.

I gave all of them free rein, letting the drunkard sway, the puppy and the kid play, the deer startle, the philosopher muse, the eco-warrior dream.

I let my thoughts unfold.

I watched them with curiosity, allowing questions to surface, even though some of them are scary. Others are downright hilarious.

Here’s an assorted sample of them. 

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash


Since April 18 of this year, Nicaragua has been in a state of social unrest, as some newspapers still want to describe it.

Knowing the history of this country, that only 40 years ago finally came to a democratic solution after 28 years of civil war trying to overthrow a dictatorship, “social unrest” is a bit of an oxymoron.

When hundreds of thousands of people take to the streets in organised protest marches multiple times, throughout the country and for weeks on end, you can still just call that social unrest.

When the main reason for those marches is that 70% of the nation want their president and his wife to step down, calling him a dictator and demanding to return their country to democracy, I’d say that is the start of a revolution, especially when the president does not seem to be wiling to make any concessions towards a peaceful and democratic solution.

When those same people continue their peaceful marches while they are risking getting injured or killed by police violence, I’d call that a civil determination for change that cannot be brought back to rest.

They are willing to give their lives, as their parents and grandparents did half a century ago.

It has made me wonder about the evolution of revolution.