Well, I was totally right about León; it was cramping my adventuring style big time! I'm sure of this because, within a few hours of leaving there, I've got a new, interesting, unforseen situation to report. Today, as I was making my way out of Estelí, in Northern Nicaragua, and towards the border with Honduras, I was robbed.

Some teenager did it, this kid who squeezed up against me and got right off the bus when it next stopped. It's really ridiculous that I let it happen, anyway. I actually, in retrospect, remember thinking, "you know, this is a lot like how a pickpocket would act." But the worst part wasn't being robbed. The worst part was being ditched alongside the highway.

You see, I didn't realize I had been robbed until I reached for my wallet. The bus men wanted their money, you see. Made sense I suppose; but I simply didn't have it. I was a little concerned at this point, and asked them if they would accept dollars, which I still had in another bag that held my most important valuables. Well, of course, for the first time in modern Central American history, a Central American wasn't interested in greenbacks. "No. You're going to have to get off."

I looked up at the bus driver. He made a motion with his hand that indicated that I needed to take a walk. So, I did. I found myself standing by the edge of a highway in Northern Nicaragua, having no clue as of what to do. I threw down my backpack and then dropped to the ground next to it, letting the situation soak in for a few minutes. Of course, the people who lived by the highway were also soaking in the situation; and believe me, someone of my appearence in that part of Nicaragua is definitely a situation.

What appeared to be the women of the family emerged from their home and came close to me, but didn't say anything. I guess they weren't quite sure of what to do. I figured I had moped for long enough, and asked them how far Estelí was. They said it was pretty far, that I'd need to take a bus. I told them what had happened to me, and that I really didn't have any money for a bus.

So they gave me some. One of the women ran into the house and came back a short time later with my busfare. I tried to offer them a dollar to pay them back, but they wouldn't take it. "Hurry," they told me, "the bus is arriving - over there, where the school kids are getting on." I ran to the bus and jumped on board, riding it back to the bus station from which I had just departed.

I was pretty upset at having lost my billfold, because that meant that I had lost my driver's license, another couple IDs, some written notes that I had, about twenty bucks in cash and a momento that I had kept in there. I felt pretty violated. When I arrived at the bus station, people looked at me, confused, as they had just seen me depart a half an hour earlier. I walked past them, out of the station.

At this point, I still didn't know what to do. I still had no money and didn't know where I was. I noticed a young woman looking at me and decided that she would be as good a person as any to ask for help. I asked her if she knew where an ATM was, and she thought that such a thing would only be found downtown. Upon further questioning, the suspect indicated that downtown was quite far away... A busride away. I was once again faced with my cashless state.

I asked, "Well, do you even know where there might be some people changing money on the street? Because I've got some dollars that I could change." Those changers were downtown, too, it seemed. But all hope was not lost.

"Well, I can help you get downtown. I'll pay your busfare," she said. We walked down by the highway and, when no bus arrived, she hailed a taxi and we both got inside. The taxi took us right to where the money changers were and I got twenty dollars worth of Córdobas (Nicaraguan currency), and, after checking with my new friend that the amount I was given seemed right (I wasn't sure), I paid her back the cab fare.

At this point I whipped out my Lonely Planet and looked up a cheap hostel. I knew I didn't want to try to make the trip across the border today; I was already way behind schedule and far too frazzled to make the journey. I didn't want to stress myself any further than I had already been. My friend hailed another cab for me and, after thanking her, I was on my way.

I'm now resting safely in a small private room for about four dollars a night and just trying to recover from the shock of today. One thing that kept coming back to me during the events of today was the part of the gospels where Jesus says, "Who, when asked for a loaf of bread, gives instead a viper?" It seemed to me that, even though I was in a pretty uncomfortable situation, people seemed naturally inclined to help me. "Ask and you shall recieve."

I must say, I don't feel that bad, even though I was wronged today, because others did right by me. I was robbed, but others took money from their own pockets to help a stranger. "The birds do not sow or reap, but still they are provided for."

(Note: If my posts are vaguely reminiscent of a Sunday School lesson, you'll have to deal with it. I've been reading the New Testament recently.)