At age sixty, just once, and just for two days, I visited both Nicaragua and Guinea-Bissau. Do they have more in common than just that? They could.
Both were just about last on my list, and I suspect for anyone else who even thinks about these things, on their list too. Two lists, actually: Central American statelets, and lusophone outliers. Even when Nicaragua was menacing yet hip, just-a-two-day-drive-from-Texas pop, by which I mean it was actually in the news a lot, I doubt anyone ever said That's the Central American place I'm going to first...or even second or third. In my own case, I went to Guatemala first because it's what's right after Mexico; many years later, I'd try Costa Rica (because it has long had an exceptional reputation) and Panama (because it has had, for even longer, a big ditch). And El Salvador, but that was more an artifact of frequent-flyer miles. As for Guinea-Bissau, it made sense to me and I bet it would make sense to lots of other people to try Cape Verde and even São Tomé – tiny mysterious islands that also don't require yellow-fever shots – first. Africa, the mainland, is big, but within it no cute little enclaves come to mind. Well, Ceuta; Swaziland, maybe. Guinea-Bissau qualifies only on the "little" part.
Yet it, and nearly-as-little Nicaragua, are typical of their regions. Guinea-Bissau was the most stereotypically African place I'd ever seen. Savanna, cashew trees, termite mounds, women with big burdens on top of their heads. As for Nicaragua: volcanoes were out there somewhere. You can't hide volcanoes with cassava!
It is, however, probably a coincidence that in both countries, the past seems close. I understand Managua had some tall buildings before the 1972 earthquake, but it has hardly any now, and the old downtown still looks scraped flat. Trees have grown; at least you can count on those in the tropics. In the airport are still sold books about Somoza. If elsewhere, in all the parts of the country I didn't see, there's a shortage of Sandinista Liberation Front flags, the few parts I did see certainly have a surplus to share. For some reason the upscale dining'n'retail center by the lake was named Puerto Salvador Allende. Perhaps on some similar lucha-hasta-siempre impulse there was a playground named Chorus of Angels, which was not – even in a country which calls itself Christian even before it calls itself socialist – a Biblical reference, but one to war orphans who assisted the Sandinistas in the mountains and jungles by raising a racket with tin cans and such during ambushes. I was unsure how this made ambushes work better.
Meanwhile, back in Guinea-Bissau, it may not be 1972 but it could be 1974, or still the 20th century. The main political party still calls itself PAIGC, which is to say "Cape Verde" is still in its name, even though that place separated from this place very soon after both places separated from Portugal. Its headquarters is right across the street from the Plaza of Heroes, which has in its center a monument pocked by bullets. That, I was told, happened in 1998. Long enough ago to have got the thing repaired, but not so long ago that that year's rebellion could be forgotten. Also across the street from this plaza is the Ethnographic Museum, where I was given a very nice tour of local customs and crafts, including some musical instruments – things like a violin, a marimba, various drums, and a 21-string guitar. I say "some" musical instruments because, I was told, the museum had been despoiled (despojado) of others, in 1998.
Well, things may yet be looking up: I actually saw a hotel under construction and it had chandeliers inside. (This near the Gambian embassy, chancery actually, which I mention mainly to settle bar bets: that country is indeed called THE Gambia. It's not far away at all, and I fear looks exactly the same; I'm surprised the ambassador doesn't just commute in.) Maybe Guinea-Bissau will attract tourists the way Cape Verde seems to be. For that matter, the way Nicaragua seems to be. Managua wasn't much, but Granada was clearly sprucing itself up, and drawing lots of visitors.
The countries are of course not the same – not even close. Nicaragua has Rubén Darío, and Guinea-Bissau has the U.N.*, and these are not in the least comparable. Again, since I was in neither place for very long, I cannot generalize to their hinterlands...but I do feel that if you see ANY publicly displayed Darío verse or JUST ONE banner urging us all to fight fecalismo ao céu aberto, you may draw some limited but sturdy conclusions.
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*And other do-gooders, and even other do-gooding you might never have imagined. Near the airport was a billboard asserting, not in strict Portuguese but in the national creole, that respect for women was one of the five pillars of Islam. In far finer print, and in strict Portuguese, was something indicating this was propaganda against female genital mutilation. The cabbie I'd engaged to drive me to Quinhamel and back was not at all surprised that I asked him to take an extra swing around the rotary and stop so I could photograph this. As for what Islam even means in this country, well, my ethnographic-museum tour guide made it clear that animism always comes first, and other religions may be just add-ons: syncretism is normal hereabouts. I did see a mini-market with an Arabic sign, but the Arabic said m-i-n-i m-a-r-k-t. I have no idea how much Arabic any non-Arab Moslems ever really learn.
© 2018 J.A.Hutter