"Hell Hath No Fury Like a Ripped Off Peace Corps Volunteer."

Getting on the last bus to Managua from Rivas is a chore.  Tons of people are hoping that they will be able to fit on schoolbus whose intended capacity is 65 but undoubtedly holds 200 as people spill out both the front and back latch door, protected by cobrador's (the men who collect your fare) who are hanging out of the bus holding on for dear life.
Generally, this bus ride goes off without a hitch.  That is, after you clamor your way to the front of the line, pushing other passengers aside so you can make your way on the bus.  Politely standing at the end of the line will lead you stranded.  Once you make it, perhaps you stand on your feet for the entire bus ride, surrounded on all sides, venders, cobradors and those passengers that get off along the way pushing their way through as the bus itself becomes a game of tetris.  Reconfiguring your body in the small space you have, at one point nearly sitting on your neighbor so that people can pass.
Tonight, I earned my seat.  The pasaje or fair from Rivas to Managua is 60 cords if you take the expreso which "makes no stops" and 48 for the ruteado that makes several stops and takes about 30 minutes longer.  However, the fact that I am privy to this information is not written on my face.  So, as the cobrador asked for my pasaje, I gave him my 60 cords.  Generally, he would then pass to the next passenger asking for their fare.  In this case, however, he tapped me on the shoulder after counting my money and told me that the fare was 120.  At which point, I told him that the bus from Rivas to Managua is 60 cords.  He told me that he had said it was 120 before we got on.  I repeated myself and told him I only had the money it took to get to Managua.  He said he would give me back my money and I could get off and wait for the next bus.  No thank you, I said, in not so many words.  He said he'd call the cops.  He was obviously bluffing.  This idea implicates that he would stop the entire bus full of passengers eager to arrive at their destination while we waited for the police who would no doubt, never arrive.  The man next to me told me not to get off.  Even though I was shaking, I stood my ground.  I told him he could look through my wallet to see the 2 cords I had left if he wanted.
At this point, a woman a few rows back became equally idignant.  She gave him her pasaje of about 40 cords from Rivas to Catarina, about an hour outside of Managua.  She told him that it wasn't fair of him to charge people more who commuted everyday to work in places like Isla de Ometepe and Rivas.  The woman next to her informed the cobrador that if he insisted on taking that much from each passenger, he would have to take all of us off.  At this point, he knew he'd been beaten and begrudgingly gave me my ticket.
At the next stop the last woman to come to the defense shouted that the pasaje was 120 and then yelled for us to get going as it was a very expensive EXPRESSO (direct bus).

Being here it's sometimes difficult to stand up for yourself.  You're not always sure what's culturally appropriate.  Or you don't want to burn bridges.  In the past week or so I've been falling back into my skin in this regard.  It felt great to stick up for myself with a bus full of Nicas right there next to me, on my side.

To quote one of our facilitators from training "Hell hath no fury like a ripped off Peace Corps Volunteer."