Nicaragua Dispatch 2/20/2012-1 or What's In and What's Out

One of the more curious aspects of Nicaraguan homes, at least to me, is the blurred distinction between what is inside and what is outside. Homes here, and in all of mezzoAmerica I suspect, are patterned on the Mediterranean model of an atria, or patio, with the home built around the central pool and garden.  Entry to the home is directly off the (often noisy and dirty) street through a gate into a more-or-less enclosed foyer. This room serves as a formal receiving room and also as a buffer from the noise and dirt.  It, I would say, is officially "inside."

Things become more blurred as one moves further into the house. The "living room," "dining room," "kitchen," pool and other common areas tend to be under an overhanging ceiling or eave and are partially open to the sky ("outside," though at least in this house it doesn't feel like it.)  Each of the guest bedrooms is enclosed ("inside") and a partially covered stairway that feels like "outside" leads up to an enclosed master bedroom suite ("inside.")

All of this is charming for us humans, and is an efficient design for houses in the tropics where heat and rain are real climatic factors.  It is, however, less clear to the normal denizens of the out-of-doors like bats, birds or cats. Sometimes this is charming as the sweet bird calls of the local Sonates enter the house unimpeded. There is also a mating pair of turtledoves that can be heard in the morning one of whom we found nesting in the back of the house.

This morning, too early however, I was awakened by the ferocious sounds of an all-out cat fight. On arising, we found cat fur on the stairs. Well, at least the mean time to failure for mice here is probably very short. I wonder how the bats in the ceiling regard these things.