cory-

your comment about "brushing your teeth with tabasco" conjured up an image from the deep and strange lair of my childhood: the 1980 album cover of joe "king" carrasco and the crowns, which features an image of his keyboardist doing just that very thing, among other things. why did i have this (decidedly strange) nuevo huevo album hanging in my room? because joe "king" carrasco is my uncle, and his strange cover art was (and still is) quite fascinating.

here's a shot of that cover:
http://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/joe_king_carrasco/joe_king_carrasco_and_the_crowns/

(note the speech bubble wherein he offers a night with his sister (my aunt) for those that buy the album. this almost resulted in a lawsuit, and is still talked about around the thanksgiving table)

my friend laurel was up on that bridge today. he was also on everest last year when they unfurled the banner at some ungodly altitude, and was later detained by chinese authorities for days. he was with me in new orleans after katrina. he is a brave and wonderful activist, whose heart is perhaps purer than any i have ever known. i have never known him to be on the wrong side of a socio-political argument, and his views are as complex, nuanced, and well-reasoned as any other person you would expect to hear on npr, see on the bbc, or read about in national geographic. this is more than a simplistic shout across an ocean. this is a small step in a much longer journey towards individual determination and a world where "human rights" are more than just a catch phrase.

yep. bluefields is a pretty interesting place. feels like a pirate town when you're there, especially if you arrive, like most people do, by boat. the musical tastes are simple: classic country and reggae, and you can tune in to a local station and hear waylon jennings and merle haggard staggered with gregory isaacs and burning spear.
corn islands is indeed an island paradise. cocaine is three dollars a gram and uncut, though i was too sick to partake when i visited. i did meet lots of wide-eyed canadians and americans who came for the fishing but stayed for the blow. on little corn, there are no nightclubs, and on weekend nights almost everybody on the island heads to the local evangelical church for the action. it is pretty crazy to watch a bunch of coked-up foreigners dancing and gesticulating wildly to caribbean hymnals. recommended, by all means.