Nicaragua: But it will be a different kind

I am guessing you have probably heard the phrase, “It is raining cats and dogs.” On the other hand, I am guessing the phrase, “It is raining mangoes,” is one that is not so commonly heard. The former, of course, is an idiom for really heavy raindrops falling from the sky turning the streets into a mess of raindroppy puddles. Seeing a bunch of felines and K-9s dropping from the clouds would sure be a sight; however, the phrase is not meant to be literally interpreted. But what about the second phrase? The whole raining mango thing, I've discovered, should be taken very seriously.

My house is situated in a quaint little neighborhood. The next-door neighbors operate a pulpería (a small store which sells basic food items) out of the front of their house, across the dirt road lives a kind lady who makes a living by making and selling tortillas, and above my house one can find the leafy branches of a giant mango tree which grows in the backyard. Sounds picturesque and lovely, right?

Except when the mangoes fall from the branches and onto the tin roof of my house, dropping like bombs and scaring the daylights out of yours truly. This happens to be a more-than-daily occurrence and it happens to make me jump at least ten feet out of my seat every time. I shouldn't complain though, I mean, since it seems that I have an everlasting supply of mangoes. They could very well be my second favorite Nicaraguan fruit, right behind bananas.

The other day while I was riding the bus to another town where I teach, a middle-aged woman sat down next to me and we struck up a conversation. After the get-to-know-you questions were out of the way, she offered me a mango which she pulled out of her bag, already cut into easy-to-eat slices. I gladly accepted. We rode the rest of the 40-kilometer ride each contently enjoying a mango.

While sometimes I miss the flavor of a crisp apple, juicy strawberries, and fresh blueberries, I turn in appreciation at the variety of fruit which we have here in Nicaragua that would be hard to replace in the Midwest of America. I can go to the market and buy an entire pineapple for the equivalent of 33 cents, a mango the size of my head for less than 50 cents, and a bundle of ten bananas for less than a US dollar. Bonus: all these fruits are fresh, picked-when-ripe, free of preservatives and sugary syrups, and just simply good-tasting. Putting this into perspective, I guess I can deal with raining mangoes.