Life, surreal and ironic. 

Many friends from my youth,17-20 years old, will recall a fierce, callow, wannabe Cold Warrior, ready to arm the Contras to the teeth and drop bombs on Managua and fuck that Commie Ortega while yer at it! Godless Red shitheels!  

Today I sit in my house with my best friend down here, José Lopez Cortez, who literally fought the Contras while I fulminated in air conditioned college classrooms. 

After fighting American-armed traitors in the Caribbean slope jungles, he was subsequently educated in Moscow, Saint Petersburg and Baku. Like me his first wife was a Russian. Strange mirror our lives, his and I. We’re the same age. 

Surreal and ironic, life is. 

¿Como no?

The Nicaraguans do a lot differently. (There goeth a man?)

One little thing I like is how they say, “why not?”

I grew up with the Mexican/Tex-Mex “por que no?”

But down here it’s an easy, almost gleeful, “¿como no?”

Note the rising intonation complete with a copious splash of Nicaragua’s notorious sarcasm.

(They’re also notoriously laconic, an economy with words inversely proportional to the wealth they’ve had stolen, multiple times.)

Sarcasm being a necessity, really, because only Mexico (without the wealth of Mexico to sustain repeated fuckings) has been fucked over more regularly by the Norteños. Then again, add in the Spaniards and Mexico has been hate fucked on so regular a basis it’s a wonder the people aren’t catatonic.

Add Flor de Caña rum and you too can be a native!

¿Como no?