Boat Snacks: A Story of Food and Friendship

Every week, the ferry that goes across the lake from San Carlos to Granada passes by San Miguelito, on Tuesday evenings, just as the sun romantically sets, rendering visible the Solentiname archipelago, the mountains in Costa Rica, and on a clear day after a good rain, the twin volcanoes of Ometepe. The boat's passing is a pretty big deal. Townspeople come by to hang out and watch, some teenagers even getting dressed up and putting on makeup for the occasion. And inevitably, a few passengers get on board, for work, visiting family and occasionally, pleasure.

The boat used to pass two days a week, providing a greater income to the women who sell food to the boat passengers and more opportunities for those who depend on it to send their products, such as cheese, fish and meat, to market in the big cities across the lake. Along a railroad track, carts loaded high with products roll their way onto the ferry, often chased by young boys. Now, like so many in Nicaragua who find their opportunities have shifted, elsewhere those who depended on the boat find themselves further squeezed economically.

As avid snack lovers, my sitemate (fellow Peace Corps volunteer living in the same town) Christina and I made a point to go and watch the boat every week. And thus, we christened the tradition of "Boat Snacks." Knowing that we only had one definite chance a week to get certain foods heightened the expectation. We ran into the usual cast of characters who came out to watch the boat, friendships made and strengthened through routine. Usually, nothing exciting happened, although they did once drag a drunk off the boat. But there is a certain beauty in tradition and routine, even if it's not made for TV entertainment. And in delicious foods, like coffee, quesillo, molasses bread, corn bread, rosquillas, relampagos (Nicaraguan cream puffs) and pineapple cake.

Christina has finished her service, which is incredibly exciting for her.  I think I'm going to miss her most on boat snack days, though, where conversations went on for hours, over food and sometimes dinner. But like the new boat schedule, change must be embraced and treasured.