I’ve thought about writing about a normal day. A not so exciting, nothing unusual kind of day to depict for you what daily life is like for us, because what I’ve been posting has been on the more interesting side, and not necessarily our day to day experiences. But something strange has happened each time I’ve though about writing such an entry.
The first time I thought about writing about an ordinary day I didn’t write down what we did, but it quite possibly could have consisted of a 20 minute car ride to and from Eliana’s school, a sweaty walk along the hot, sun drenched dirt road to the beach, walking on the damp beach sand watching the blue waves turn brown as they crashed at the shore and the sand lifted and churned inside them, observing sand crabs skitter across the shore as Tahoe tried to play with them and the hermit crabs freeze in response to ground vibrations, and inadvertently scaring away a flock of vultures devouring a small school of dead feeder fish left behind in a lava rock crevice by the changing of the tide. I most assuredly checked email, Facebook, on-line news sources, and might have weeded out pictures in iphoto or downloaded new family videos. It likely included boogie boarding, surfing, time in the pool with friends, and a gorgeous sunset. Somewhere in there we ate breakfast, lunch and dinner, showered, read, and hit the hay. It was a fairly normal day.
But then we were woken up at 2:30 in the morning from a loud popping noise under our bed. It started near Fred, so he got up and tried to find what was making the noise, but the the noise stopped and there was nothing to see. So he got back in bed, and then it popped again. Again he looked, and nothing. A few minutes later the sound ran under our bed traveling across the room and we thought it was a small animal, which was a bit unnerving. Now that the noise was on my side of the room I turned on my nightstand light and got out of bed to look. I still couldn’t find anything, but upon getting back into bed I could feel that the floor was raised. The tiles created a small mountain range spanning from one wall all the way under our bed to the sliding glass window on the other side. The following two weeks involved moving everything out of our room, closet, and bathroom, upstairs hallway, and the guest bathroom and bedroom so all the loose tiles could be lifted and glued back down. That was fun. And was there ever a lot of dust.
On a Sunday morning, just as this was finishing up, we headed on a road trip to get acquainted with the northern part of the country, specifically Chinandega, and the surf breaks along the nearby beaches. We drove 5 hours north towards the border of Honduras and passed gorgeous lush landscapes sprinkled with volcanoes. The hotel was full so we reserved the entire dorm room at Hotel Chincletas (Flip Flop Hotel) which was a hostel style room with 2 bunk beds, 2 single beds, daily maid service, and two outside shared bathrooms. Eliana’s favorite part of the room, which she spied within 20 seconds of entering the dorm, was a 3×3 array of individually locking wooden cubicles. Our key unlocked box number one, which was on the top left and required Eliana to stand on an unstable plastic chair to open, so she wasted no time returning to the restaurant to ask for key number 7, 8, or 9. They only had a key for box 6, located middle right, which would have to do. Eliana put her items in 3 separate cubbies (she used box 9 and left it unlocked) and devised plan on how to hide the keys so no one could access her possessions. Key 6 was locked inside box 1 and key 1 was hidden under a mattress we were not using. Keep in mind we had the room to ourselves.
We took a family walk along the beach watching The Boom, as the heavy wave is called, perfectly barrel with each wave. It was a little small and no one was out, but it was still pretty. According to the surf report, a new swell was coming in the next morning and the surfing would be excellent. Fred and I walked by foot, Eliana rode by horse, to the north end of the beach, which ended abruptly with a volcanic rock barrier which flowed into the ocean creating a 10 foot cliff above the waves. The horse was stubborn and wouldn’t run, and unless led by a leash, often refused to even walk. Eliana was frustrated and ended her riding time early, but before returning the horse offered rides to the three girls who live at the hotel.
This brings us to the second time I thought about writing about a normal day and then discovered later that it was to be eventful.
At dinner on Monday, our second day near Chinendega, Fred noticed Eliana had a reddish-purple rash on her arm. It didn’t hurt her, it wasn’t sensitive, and she had no idea what it was from. It looked like a burn was squirted onto the underside of her forearm. Not much changed over the next two days, which was reassuring in that it wasn’t getting worse, but I wasn’t thrilled that it wasn’t going away. It seemed to be drying out. It was still flat, but it felt like there could be some substance underneath it. Fred wondered if it was from a beetle that is known to burn people with its urine.
On Wednesday we left the hotel and headed to our friends at the Gran Pacifica. I was just starting to get nervous that we hadn’t figured out what the mark was from. I couldn’t sleep that night so I got up and researched every poisonous animal in Nicarauga I could find, and nothing fit the description of Eliana’s burn. Even so, my concern did heighten after reading about the pissing beetle, which, after peeing on you can also bite your lip and inject poison that will enlarge the lining of your heart in 5-30 years. The fact that it is primarily found in densely populated poor communities made me realize we are likely to not cross paths with this culprit, but I did ponder the possibility about a stray getting to the oceanside. I had to remind myself several times that we have dangerous animals in the states too and in my almost 40 years, I’ve managed to avoid all of them.
My poisonous animals list was exhausted and I sat staring at my computer at 3:00am. There had to be something she came into contact with…what were our surroundings? And then it hit me. A poisonous plant. I researched poisonous plants of Nicaragua and within 15 minutes I was reassured and and back in bed falling asleep.
Right in front of the door to our room was a cashew fruit with the seed (what we call the nut) attached. Eliana LOVES cashews so I pointed it out to her saying maybe we could open it later. Later, when we were bored, we went back to the cashew. The fruit was old, wet, and squishy and she didn’t really want to open it, but she did take the hard nut section and bang it on the patio concrete step. “Oooh, it’s wet” she said, and she threw it into the bushes.
It turns out that raw cashews are poisonous. The “raw” cashews people buy aren’t actually raw, they are steamed. And after you look at the picture of Eliana’s arm, you can see why.
The cashew tree is an evergreen that grows to be 30-35 feet tall. Its trunk is short and it branches spread out wide with thick leathery leaves. The overall shape of the tree reminds me of a wide squashed oak tree. The fruit has two parts, the cashew apple and the cashew seed.
The upper part that connects to the stem is the cashew apple. It looks like a cross between an apple and a bell pepper, and has a thick red skin that perishes easily making it unsuitable for export. This is why the cashew fruit is only found in the tropical regions in which it grows. Originally the tree was harvested only for its fruit and the seed was thrown away. The fruit can be eaten as is or it can be used to make a juice. It contains tannins and is said to be sweet and peppery by some and disgusting by others. I’ve not yet tasted it.
The seed grows outside of the fruit and is encased in a hard shell and surrounded by a very toxic skin-irritating liquid. It hangs below the bottom of the fruit. The cashew seed is what we refer to as the cashew. According to my research, the bark and leaves can also cause painful skin alterations, which according to friends I’ve talked with, means a poison ivy type rash, but it is the nutshell that has the poison in high concentrations. Within one day of contact with the liquid, it can cause painful skin irritations that resemble second degree burns. It can also blind you if squirted into the eyes. The poison is of the same irritant found in poison ivy, so imagine not just brushing against the plant, but having the irritant squirted on to you. It is also found in the skin of papayas and at the stems of mangoes.
It was a day after playing with the cashew that we noticed the rash. But strangely it didn’t bother her. It wasn’t until 4 days later that it started getting sensitive to touch and another 2 days past that when the dried burn came off and the irritant came out and she had intense itching. The rash looked exactly like a poison ivy rash and she applied cortisone several times a day.
This was a good lesson for all of us. We can’t assume something is safe just because we know what it is. We’re surrounded by new plants, animals, and foods, and unless we know what we see is safe from experience, we shouldn’t touch it unless a local has told us it’s OK. This turned out to not be a big deal. It’s since been two weeks and Eliana’s arm now just has a faint white scars where the original purple burn was, which I believe will slowly fade away.
So now we just wonder…with a large cashew tree on the premises of the hotel and raw cashews on the ground, why wasn’t there a sign saying they are poisonous?