By mid afternoon, the travelers had arrived in Leon and located the Good Sister, a friend of Medio's who had moved to Nicaragua after the Revolution to help people rebuild their communities. When the four travelers arrived, she was working on ways to improve the annual coffee harvest, but was having trouble finding enough

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volunteers for the early morning task. She greeted the travelers good-naturedly.

"Where can we get a beer?" Capn asked. The sun's heat had raised the temperature to toaster oven levels.

The Good Sister agreed to take the thirsty travelers to the nearest bar after work. She could "hug the neck" with the best of them and knew where to find cold beer.

Suddenly, the BigMBA foisted his surprise on the group. Pulling out a handful of watches that he had brought to Nicaragua to sell, he handed them to the Good Sister. "Here, take these. They'll help the workers get to the harvest on time."

The BigMBA's donation to the progressive priestess's adopted cause induced her to invite the travelers on a tour of one of the new housing developments the revolutionary government had built. Promising to finish the tour near a local bar, she escorted them to a large cement block structure.

To the simple eye, the building was an oversized, functional, square structure, without style or beauty. It reminded the travelers of many of the "projects" built in US ghettos. To the BigGuy, the housing project was further evidence of the Soviet presence. The square lines and unimaginative architecture were reminiscent of those he'd seen on his way to the East German jailhouse where they searched him. Except the building rose out of the shimmering heat of tropical Nicaragua. Intrigued, he walked around the buildingand almost fell into a long trench that had been dug behind it. "Hmm, like World War I," he said.

"Preparing for the Yankee invasion," said Medio.

A jet roared overhead and the BigGuy dropped into the bunker. "Not much protection in here," he said as the roar of the jet dissipated into the hot, cloudless sky.

"Any beer in there?" Capn asked, the desire for a cold, refreshing cerveza rising through his subconscious like a turtle rising from a pond bottom. Capn's mention of beer led the group to knock off their tour and go in search of a cold one.