Maurice Walsh

At a traffic roundabout in Managua, in the middle of a hot, drizzly grey day, a few men have gathered around a sign advertising a new open-air revolutionary museum. For a dollar they allow me to walk around inside the circular wooden fence on which they have hung black and white photographs of scenes from Nicaragua in the 1970s, when the left-wing Sandinistas finally succeeded in overthrowing the dynastic dictatorship of the Somoza family. The men don’t look like curators of a nation’s history. The amount of money they ask for seems to be arbitrarily decided, and their museum resembles the temporary encampments, familiar in most Latin American countries, of peasants who have marched a long distance to the capital city in the hope of drawing attention to some grievance or injustice.

Read the rest of this piece in The Dublin Review 43.