This is a short clip from our final night on the farm in Costa Rica. Warren and Elizabeth were gracious to have a small party at their house with all 6 WWOOFers and Rocio's family. It was great. This is a clip of Adrian playing with dominoes.
(yes, we are back in the country happily eating our way through the holidays. Much more later, but I just wanted to test out posting some video clips from the trip.)
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Saturday, December 09, 2006
You thought Virginia was for lovers?
Well, my friends, you must not have visited Mexico City!
At first, it seemed refreshingly romantic. Couples walking hand in hand, not afraid to give a little kiss every now and then. Have no fear -- public displays of affection are alive and well in this sprawling town (which actually used to be a lake, did you know that?).
But before long, it became less and less refreshing and more....awkward. The kind of awkward where you know you shouldn't be watching something so personal, and if you were watching it you could be assured there would soon be an FCC lawsuit.
Couples of all ages, some more discreet than others, stopping mid walk to plant a long, sustained, ACTIVE kiss on each other. (Really, I could do without seeing the biting and licking.) Leaning up against walls in welcoming poses typically reserved for the beginning of a Dawson's Creek scene of which you only see the passionate beginning.
And it's impossible to ignore. I mean, we've actually interrupted such encounters as we bump into them on crowded streets. Awkward!
To be honest, it has been a struggle. For so much of this trip we have been a part of the common struggle when in a country that is not your own -- to assimilate or not to assimilate? Should I give into the urge to conform, stealing Lizzy away against a nearby wall for a little acceptable nookie? Or do I heed the overwhelming feelings of discomfort and do my best to put the blinders on, trying to avoid future run-ins?
We still have 5 days and the verdict is still out.
At first, it seemed refreshingly romantic. Couples walking hand in hand, not afraid to give a little kiss every now and then. Have no fear -- public displays of affection are alive and well in this sprawling town (which actually used to be a lake, did you know that?).
But before long, it became less and less refreshing and more....awkward. The kind of awkward where you know you shouldn't be watching something so personal, and if you were watching it you could be assured there would soon be an FCC lawsuit.
Couples of all ages, some more discreet than others, stopping mid walk to plant a long, sustained, ACTIVE kiss on each other. (Really, I could do without seeing the biting and licking.) Leaning up against walls in welcoming poses typically reserved for the beginning of a Dawson's Creek scene of which you only see the passionate beginning.
And it's impossible to ignore. I mean, we've actually interrupted such encounters as we bump into them on crowded streets. Awkward!
To be honest, it has been a struggle. For so much of this trip we have been a part of the common struggle when in a country that is not your own -- to assimilate or not to assimilate? Should I give into the urge to conform, stealing Lizzy away against a nearby wall for a little acceptable nookie? Or do I heed the overwhelming feelings of discomfort and do my best to put the blinders on, trying to avoid future run-ins?
We still have 5 days and the verdict is still out.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
¿quien es?
We would like to give a prize for our most loyal readers.
Claire, you're a shoo in. No surprise there.
Fran-man, you're up there.
But you have close competition in a mysterious employee (of someone within wireless range) of the Oregon Dental Service. We do envy your dedication.
In order to claim your prizes, you must first identify yourselves!!
For better of worse, you seem to be the only three checking this thing anyway. Except, that is, for the incessant checking we've been doing these days as we kill time wasting away in front of the free computers at the hostel.
(My wife thinks i have a problem with wordiness when attempting to write a relatively short sentence. i don't think i can disagree per say, but I would like to think that it is not always as wordy as she makes it out to be.)
Claire, you're a shoo in. No surprise there.
Fran-man, you're up there.
But you have close competition in a mysterious employee (of someone within wireless range) of the Oregon Dental Service. We do envy your dedication.
In order to claim your prizes, you must first identify yourselves!!
For better of worse, you seem to be the only three checking this thing anyway. Except, that is, for the incessant checking we've been doing these days as we kill time wasting away in front of the free computers at the hostel.
(My wife thinks i have a problem with wordiness when attempting to write a relatively short sentence. i don't think i can disagree per say, but I would like to think that it is not always as wordy as she makes it out to be.)
Yesterday We Visited the Virgin of the Metro
Now contrary to what you may be imagining, it wasn't a thirteen year old, pimple-faced boy we visited at the entrance to the Hidalgo metro stop. The Virgin of the Metro is one of the many mystical images of the Virgin Mary that have been reported here in Mexico. According to the lonely planet guide book [or the green bible], there was a water pipe that leaked onto the tiles of the Hidalgo metro stop in the exact image of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Local believers were in such awe of the occurrence that they cut out the tiles from the floor and had them framed in a glass case that now sits at the entrance to the metro stop.
When we arrived at the much talked about glass encasement, we were sorely disappointed. The image was difficult to see and we both agreed it looked more like the inkblots that psychologists use to analyze the ins and outs of the psyche. Nevertheless, it was a lovely walk to the stop through a beautiful historical park and we learned much more about why the Virgin Mary is the most celebrated religious figure in Mexico.
My mother will be happy to know that the tuition money for St. Patrick Elementary School was well spent, since I vividly recalled the story of "Our Lady of Guadalupe" from my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Behuniak [well ok, i had to look up some of the details]. As the story goes, during a walk from his village to the city on December 12, 1531, Juan Diego saw a vision of Mary on a hill. She told him to build a church on the site, but the bishop did not believe Diego's story. Mary then instructed Diego to gather the roses from the hill, even though it was winter time, and bring them to the bishop. When Diego presented the roses that he was carrying in his apron to the bishop, an image of Mary remained on the cloth. Although many church historians question the authenticity of the account, the Virgin of Guadalupe has become a symbol of Mexican culture and a turning point in the relationship between the Catholic Church and the indigenous population.
Every year on December 12, thousands of people make the pilgrimage to the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe to commemorate the visions seen by Juan Diego. We have been told that some of them even finish the last mile or so of their journey walking on their knees. The days leading to the 12th are celebrated by locals with festivals and dancing. We plan on visiting the Basilica and possibly participating in some of the activities before we board the plane for Atlanta on the 14th. It will certainly be an interesting and exciting end to our very long journey.
When we arrived at the much talked about glass encasement, we were sorely disappointed. The image was difficult to see and we both agreed it looked more like the inkblots that psychologists use to analyze the ins and outs of the psyche. Nevertheless, it was a lovely walk to the stop through a beautiful historical park and we learned much more about why the Virgin Mary is the most celebrated religious figure in Mexico.
My mother will be happy to know that the tuition money for St. Patrick Elementary School was well spent, since I vividly recalled the story of "Our Lady of Guadalupe" from my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Behuniak [well ok, i had to look up some of the details]. As the story goes, during a walk from his village to the city on December 12, 1531, Juan Diego saw a vision of Mary on a hill. She told him to build a church on the site, but the bishop did not believe Diego's story. Mary then instructed Diego to gather the roses from the hill, even though it was winter time, and bring them to the bishop. When Diego presented the roses that he was carrying in his apron to the bishop, an image of Mary remained on the cloth. Although many church historians question the authenticity of the account, the Virgin of Guadalupe has become a symbol of Mexican culture and a turning point in the relationship between the Catholic Church and the indigenous population.
Every year on December 12, thousands of people make the pilgrimage to the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe to commemorate the visions seen by Juan Diego. We have been told that some of them even finish the last mile or so of their journey walking on their knees. The days leading to the 12th are celebrated by locals with festivals and dancing. We plan on visiting the Basilica and possibly participating in some of the activities before we board the plane for Atlanta on the 14th. It will certainly be an interesting and exciting end to our very long journey.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Inauguration in Mexico, Part I
The day has finally arrived, and we are not sure what to make of it all.
Less than two blocks away is the Zocolo, the large central plaza in the middle of Mexico City. Over 10,000 people have gathered, many in tent cities for days, to support the opposition candidate who is claiming to be the *real* president of Mexico - going so far to have his own inauguration weeks back and start a "parallel government" from the streets.
And about 15 minutes in another direction, the actual inauguration is trying to get underway in the Congressional chambers amid days of physical violence among elected officials trying to block the proceedings. We've been watching the news and things are clearly still incredibly tense, with scuffles continuing even as foreign dignitaries arrive.
We're going to eat quickly and get out to see some of this for ourselves...
check out the headlines:
This should be muy interesante!
Less than two blocks away is the Zocolo, the large central plaza in the middle of Mexico City. Over 10,000 people have gathered, many in tent cities for days, to support the opposition candidate who is claiming to be the *real* president of Mexico - going so far to have his own inauguration weeks back and start a "parallel government" from the streets.
And about 15 minutes in another direction, the actual inauguration is trying to get underway in the Congressional chambers amid days of physical violence among elected officials trying to block the proceedings. We've been watching the news and things are clearly still incredibly tense, with scuffles continuing even as foreign dignitaries arrive.
We're going to eat quickly and get out to see some of this for ourselves...
check out the headlines:
This should be muy interesante!
Monday, November 27, 2006
Hugh Jackman has nothing on me...
or at least he didn't.
 |
| From WWOOFING IN C... |
Ah, much better...
 |
| From San Jose afte... |
Happy now Francis?
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Beans, Beans, the Magical Fruit...
.....actually they are a seed, but then what kind of catchy rhyme would we have?
HAPPY TURKEY DAY!
It's day 136 and we are back in Xela this week to celebrate Thanksgiving by taking Spanish classes and eating Indian food. Huh? Well, it certainly won't compare to the traditional bocce and raviolis, but this trip had to have some sacrifices. Verdad?
We have been on a whirlwind tour since we last recorded our travels on the blog, and yes we have pictures to prove it (shocking, i know)! Our time after the farm started off slowly as Robert hunkered down to finish his graduate school applications (they are coming along very well and I am constantly impressed by his commitment and focus after his initial procrastination). So, we spent the week in San Jose long enough to catch a soccer game and the opera Don Pasquale.
After San Jose, we bused to Puerto Viejo de Limon for a chance to sleep in hammocks next to the Caribbean at Rockin' J's hostel and take surfing lessons. Our instructor's name was Topo and he was a native of Puerto Viejo. He runs a free surfing clinic for local children every Saturday in order to give them an outlet to avoid the temptations of the local drug scene. Although Puerto Viejo is beautiful, it is unfortunately situated in the direct route of drug trafficking from Colombia which can make for some ugly aspects as well.
After three hours of surfing, we were exhausted. Robert, of course, was a complete natural at surfing and impressed our instructors from the beginning, and I was just completely psyched that I got up at all. Mental note- need more upper body exercises! Anyway, it was so much fun.
After leaving Costa Rica, we took a series of long bus rides (as usual) to Panama City. We weren't originally going to visit Panama, but we were so close and thought it would be cool to see the Panama Canal. It turned out to be a great decision for so many reasons. We arrived at our hostel at 12:30 at night, successfully using public phones (a first, and in Spanish no less) to confirm they were in fact still open. The hostel was amazing and it felt very homey, which is always nice while traveling. We spent two days exploring the city, including watching ginormous ships pass through the Miraflores Locks just outside of the city. I don't think it was much different than the VanCleef Locks - just MUCH bigger! The boat we saw pass through was a giant container ship from China, likely on its way to fill the Wal-Marts of Central and North America and put more locals out of business. Yippeee for development.
On our last night in Panama City, we decided to follow the Lonely Planet suggested walking tour of the historic part of the city. Apparently we took a wrong turn at some point, ending up in a less than friendly area. It was one of those times when your sixth sense starts to kick in and give some not-so-subtle warnings. Then again, maybe that was the lady on the balcony yelling at us (based on accompanying hand gestures, she wasn't inviting us to dinner) to turn around and leave. And if that weren't clear enough, a posse of bicycle cops proceeded to stop a cab and gestured for us to get in. Point taken. We were out of there.
No harm, no foul but we just wish we had known what exactly happened. We made the best of the evening by finding a Mediterranean restaurant and partaking in un poco vino rojo. Que bueno.
The next morning, we were up early to catch a flight to the San Blas Islands, home to the indigenous Kuna Indians. They have an incredible history; they are autonomous from the Panamanian government, having been given the islands and a small piece of the mainland to call home after a revolution in the 40s. Without going into too much detail, there are 365 islands and were were lucky enough to visit three during our two day trip. We stayed with a local family who showed us around and welcomed us into their home. We spent our evenings playing cards with the kids and their friends, while learning a few Kuna expressions.
This particular experience certainly pushed the boundaries of our comfort level in terms of amenities, namely in the baño realm. The community bathroom that we used was located at the end of a dock. There were bamboo walls for privacy, but the toilet consisted of a small wooden frame with a toilet seat placed around the hole, which opened directly to the ocean below. It's hard to convey the setup, but needless to say, we thought twice before swimming anywhere nearby!
It was sad to leave the islands and particularly the children, even after such a short time. I'll always fondly recall pulling away in the canoe headed to the landing strip of an airport and waving goodbye to our buddy Kevin who had run to the dock to see us off.
So our flight took us straight back into Panama City and we went directly to the bus terminal to book yet another international bus headed north - this time a 14 hour trip back to San Jose, followed by 12 more hours to Granada, Nicaragua. Not having showered for about four days, our plush hotel in Granada was worth every penny...that we'll be paying off four months from now! Anyway, we booked a canopy tour for the following day, grabbed subway sandwiches (mmm..veggies), and passed out. The next morning, we caught a local bus to the nearby National Park and made our way to the ranger station to meet our next guides - Domingo and Martin. We spent the rest of the morning flying over cafetals (coffee fields) on zip lines. It was quite a rush and definitely will make the highlight reel.
The rest of our only full day in Granada was spent walking around the city. It reminded us of Antigua, Guatemala with its cobblestone streets, colonial architecture, and wonderful central park.
The next day, were were off again. First, a short trip to Managua where we found the King Quality bus terminal (ahh...king quality...the luxury) where we booked our 2:30 am departure for Guatemala City. Too cheap to get a hotel room, no place to store our bags, and 12 hours to kill, we headed across the street to the mall. We set up shop in the food court for about 6 hours, eating and reading the time away. Then we treated ourselves to Saturday night date-night, this time involving a double feature of The Infiltrators and Nacho Libre....oh, and popcorn! The last movie, strategically chosen, ended a little after midnight. With the bus terminal closed until 1:30am, we only had an hour and a half to kill. So of course, we staggered across the street to the 24-hour "On The Run" gas station for caffeine and cards (current rummy score: Lizard=8910, Bob=9005). This night too will certainly make the highlights.
15 hours and three countries later, we arrived in Guatemala City, caught the 6pm bus to Xela and arrived at our hostel at 10pm.
Here we are, back in Xela where the great saga began. It's Thanksgiving afternoon and I spent the morning in Spanish lessons with Antonieta while Bert worked on applications. We're having coffee (don't worry, Amalia, decaf for me!) in about an hour with our former host mother's granddaughters and then we're off for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Sabor de India!
T-minus 21 days and counting...
HAPPY TURKEY DAY!
It's day 136 and we are back in Xela this week to celebrate Thanksgiving by taking Spanish classes and eating Indian food. Huh? Well, it certainly won't compare to the traditional bocce and raviolis, but this trip had to have some sacrifices. Verdad?
We have been on a whirlwind tour since we last recorded our travels on the blog, and yes we have pictures to prove it (shocking, i know)! Our time after the farm started off slowly as Robert hunkered down to finish his graduate school applications (they are coming along very well and I am constantly impressed by his commitment and focus after his initial procrastination). So, we spent the week in San Jose long enough to catch a soccer game and the opera Don Pasquale.
After San Jose, we bused to Puerto Viejo de Limon for a chance to sleep in hammocks next to the Caribbean at Rockin' J's hostel and take surfing lessons. Our instructor's name was Topo and he was a native of Puerto Viejo. He runs a free surfing clinic for local children every Saturday in order to give them an outlet to avoid the temptations of the local drug scene. Although Puerto Viejo is beautiful, it is unfortunately situated in the direct route of drug trafficking from Colombia which can make for some ugly aspects as well.
After three hours of surfing, we were exhausted. Robert, of course, was a complete natural at surfing and impressed our instructors from the beginning, and I was just completely psyched that I got up at all. Mental note- need more upper body exercises! Anyway, it was so much fun.
After leaving Costa Rica, we took a series of long bus rides (as usual) to Panama City. We weren't originally going to visit Panama, but we were so close and thought it would be cool to see the Panama Canal. It turned out to be a great decision for so many reasons. We arrived at our hostel at 12:30 at night, successfully using public phones (a first, and in Spanish no less) to confirm they were in fact still open. The hostel was amazing and it felt very homey, which is always nice while traveling. We spent two days exploring the city, including watching ginormous ships pass through the Miraflores Locks just outside of the city. I don't think it was much different than the VanCleef Locks - just MUCH bigger! The boat we saw pass through was a giant container ship from China, likely on its way to fill the Wal-Marts of Central and North America and put more locals out of business. Yippeee for development.
On our last night in Panama City, we decided to follow the Lonely Planet suggested walking tour of the historic part of the city. Apparently we took a wrong turn at some point, ending up in a less than friendly area. It was one of those times when your sixth sense starts to kick in and give some not-so-subtle warnings. Then again, maybe that was the lady on the balcony yelling at us (based on accompanying hand gestures, she wasn't inviting us to dinner) to turn around and leave. And if that weren't clear enough, a posse of bicycle cops proceeded to stop a cab and gestured for us to get in. Point taken. We were out of there.
No harm, no foul but we just wish we had known what exactly happened. We made the best of the evening by finding a Mediterranean restaurant and partaking in un poco vino rojo. Que bueno.
The next morning, we were up early to catch a flight to the San Blas Islands, home to the indigenous Kuna Indians. They have an incredible history; they are autonomous from the Panamanian government, having been given the islands and a small piece of the mainland to call home after a revolution in the 40s. Without going into too much detail, there are 365 islands and were were lucky enough to visit three during our two day trip. We stayed with a local family who showed us around and welcomed us into their home. We spent our evenings playing cards with the kids and their friends, while learning a few Kuna expressions.
This particular experience certainly pushed the boundaries of our comfort level in terms of amenities, namely in the baño realm. The community bathroom that we used was located at the end of a dock. There were bamboo walls for privacy, but the toilet consisted of a small wooden frame with a toilet seat placed around the hole, which opened directly to the ocean below. It's hard to convey the setup, but needless to say, we thought twice before swimming anywhere nearby!
It was sad to leave the islands and particularly the children, even after such a short time. I'll always fondly recall pulling away in the canoe headed to the landing strip of an airport and waving goodbye to our buddy Kevin who had run to the dock to see us off.
So our flight took us straight back into Panama City and we went directly to the bus terminal to book yet another international bus headed north - this time a 14 hour trip back to San Jose, followed by 12 more hours to Granada, Nicaragua. Not having showered for about four days, our plush hotel in Granada was worth every penny...that we'll be paying off four months from now! Anyway, we booked a canopy tour for the following day, grabbed subway sandwiches (mmm..veggies), and passed out. The next morning, we caught a local bus to the nearby National Park and made our way to the ranger station to meet our next guides - Domingo and Martin. We spent the rest of the morning flying over cafetals (coffee fields) on zip lines. It was quite a rush and definitely will make the highlight reel.
The rest of our only full day in Granada was spent walking around the city. It reminded us of Antigua, Guatemala with its cobblestone streets, colonial architecture, and wonderful central park.
The next day, were were off again. First, a short trip to Managua where we found the King Quality bus terminal (ahh...king quality...the luxury) where we booked our 2:30 am departure for Guatemala City. Too cheap to get a hotel room, no place to store our bags, and 12 hours to kill, we headed across the street to the mall. We set up shop in the food court for about 6 hours, eating and reading the time away. Then we treated ourselves to Saturday night date-night, this time involving a double feature of The Infiltrators and Nacho Libre....oh, and popcorn! The last movie, strategically chosen, ended a little after midnight. With the bus terminal closed until 1:30am, we only had an hour and a half to kill. So of course, we staggered across the street to the 24-hour "On The Run" gas station for caffeine and cards (current rummy score: Lizard=8910, Bob=9005). This night too will certainly make the highlights.
15 hours and three countries later, we arrived in Guatemala City, caught the 6pm bus to Xela and arrived at our hostel at 10pm.
Here we are, back in Xela where the great saga began. It's Thanksgiving afternoon and I spent the morning in Spanish lessons with Antonieta while Bert worked on applications. We're having coffee (don't worry, Amalia, decaf for me!) in about an hour with our former host mother's granddaughters and then we're off for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Sabor de India!
T-minus 21 days and counting...
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Before You Drink that Next Cup of Coffee......
......think of us on our hands and knees hand-picking berries off of the coffee plant....
We have been working on a coffee farm with four other Americans in Costa Rica. Our alarm goes off every morning at 5:15 and we are in the fields around 6:00. We pick for about six hours a day, which isn't as bad as it sounds. There are two people to a row that work together. Robert picks on one side of the tree and I am on the other. Our fellow pickers are in rows near us and we spend hours gathering berries (getting bitten by ants, spiders, etc...) and telling stories. And you know how much I LOVE to tell stories, so the day goes by pretty quickly for me, but it may not be as painless for those listening.
We live in a cabin and make all of our meals together, which consists mostly of rice and beans. The Costarican woman who runs the farm is so sweet and she has taught us how to make corn tortillas and rice pudding. We really feel like we are a part of her family. On Sunday (our day off) we hopped in the family pick-up truck to go fishing and swimming in a nearby town. Robert caught four fish and I didn't catch any! Luckily, the restaurant has a net and catches fish for everyone to eat. We spent the day with Rocio, her husband, and two children. It was so much fun.
The farm is owned by a Canadian couple and they have taken us on a few hikes. We helped cut down a banana tree and milked a cow. Their property is so beautiful and they are trying desperately to preserve the rain forest around them. They have done quite a bit of work to fight the deforestation and keep buying land around them. They are a pretty impressive couple.
The woman who runs the farm (from Costa Rica) has a son, Esteban, who goes to University in the closest big city. He is the first person in the family to get a formal education. Esteban took us to his school today and we marched in a protest against the Central American Free Trade agreement. There must have been at least 500 people. It was such an amazing experience and pretty eye-opening. We have learned so much on this trip regarding our business practices and how they can negatively affect others.
We will be here for one more week before we start to travel again. We decided to head to Panama next and then start our ascent to Mexico City. We will be in Mexico City for the change in presidential administration, which should be interesting. It is hard to believe we only have 7 weeks left. Looking forward to our next adventure.
We have been working on a coffee farm with four other Americans in Costa Rica. Our alarm goes off every morning at 5:15 and we are in the fields around 6:00. We pick for about six hours a day, which isn't as bad as it sounds. There are two people to a row that work together. Robert picks on one side of the tree and I am on the other. Our fellow pickers are in rows near us and we spend hours gathering berries (getting bitten by ants, spiders, etc...) and telling stories. And you know how much I LOVE to tell stories, so the day goes by pretty quickly for me, but it may not be as painless for those listening.
We live in a cabin and make all of our meals together, which consists mostly of rice and beans. The Costarican woman who runs the farm is so sweet and she has taught us how to make corn tortillas and rice pudding. We really feel like we are a part of her family. On Sunday (our day off) we hopped in the family pick-up truck to go fishing and swimming in a nearby town. Robert caught four fish and I didn't catch any! Luckily, the restaurant has a net and catches fish for everyone to eat. We spent the day with Rocio, her husband, and two children. It was so much fun.
The farm is owned by a Canadian couple and they have taken us on a few hikes. We helped cut down a banana tree and milked a cow. Their property is so beautiful and they are trying desperately to preserve the rain forest around them. They have done quite a bit of work to fight the deforestation and keep buying land around them. They are a pretty impressive couple.
The woman who runs the farm (from Costa Rica) has a son, Esteban, who goes to University in the closest big city. He is the first person in the family to get a formal education. Esteban took us to his school today and we marched in a protest against the Central American Free Trade agreement. There must have been at least 500 people. It was such an amazing experience and pretty eye-opening. We have learned so much on this trip regarding our business practices and how they can negatively affect others.
We will be here for one more week before we start to travel again. We decided to head to Panama next and then start our ascent to Mexico City. We will be in Mexico City for the change in presidential administration, which should be interesting. It is hard to believe we only have 7 weeks left. Looking forward to our next adventure.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
For Your Viewing Pleasure!
We made it to Costa Rica and found a great hostel with FREE internet. So, we spent a good chunk of time uploading pictures from the last two months (until the camera started having trouble).
Enjoy the pics!
We start work tomorrow on an organic coffee farm where we will be harvesting ¨grapes¨ for six hours a day, which is ironic since neither of us actually drink coffee. But, we are looking forward to learning more about organic labeling, getting some exercise, and sharpening our mad Spanish skills.
Since we will not have access to an internet connection for two weeks, we wanted to wish a happy birthday to our fabulous brothers!
Francis will turn 40 on October 17th (whoa, that´s old!) and Brian will turn 30 on October 21st (whoa, that's old too!).
Enjoy the pics!
We start work tomorrow on an organic coffee farm where we will be harvesting ¨grapes¨ for six hours a day, which is ironic since neither of us actually drink coffee. But, we are looking forward to learning more about organic labeling, getting some exercise, and sharpening our mad Spanish skills.
Since we will not have access to an internet connection for two weeks, we wanted to wish a happy birthday to our fabulous brothers!
Francis will turn 40 on October 17th (whoa, that´s old!) and Brian will turn 30 on October 21st (whoa, that's old too!).
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Where are we?
Good question!
Because Belize is unlike anywhere we have visited thus far on our trip. It's shockingly different than the rest of our trip so far, primarily because the official language is English ("lazy English" according the to the shopkeeper we chatted with for over an hour last night). Also, because everything is SO EXPENSIVE here. Of course, it's all very relative, but it is putting quite a strain on our (completely unrealistic) daily budget. Thus, not much internet access for updates.
Because Belize is unlike anywhere we have visited thus far on our trip. It's shockingly different than the rest of our trip so far, primarily because the official language is English ("lazy English" according the to the shopkeeper we chatted with for over an hour last night). Also, because everything is SO EXPENSIVE here. Of course, it's all very relative, but it is putting quite a strain on our (completely unrealistic) daily budget. Thus, not much internet access for updates.
So here's a quick summary with, funds providing, more details later:
- Spent one day as illegal immigrants upon entering Mexico
- Ruins at Pelenque: very nice and well kept (read: touristy). Also, the only ruins so far where we've been able to walk and climb on almost all structures.
- Town of Pelenque: H-O-T. Seriously, I don't know if I've ever slept in a room (if you can call the top floor, open air covered platform a room) that reached about 120 degrees in the middle of the day and didn't lower much for the night. Also, we did laundry and they had the strongest smelling fabric softener ever...which we appreciate. No washing since.
- Saw ruins at Chichen Itza (which must have changed names since my fourth grade memories of "Chicken Pizza"), and ended up being there during the equinox. Who knew there would be 10,000 people there that day as well -- most popular time of year to see how, for those few days, the shadows of the setting sun form a serpent on the impressive main pyramid. Amazing. Also, HOT!
- Arrived in Cancun at 11:30pm, and are so happy our Green Bible was right about the hostel location....not a fun midnight walk.
- Proceeded to Islas Mujeres, Playa del Carmen and Tulum, all along the Caribbean coast, averaging at least 8 hours a day on the beach. It was tough. We also saw great improvements with Liz's flick. She should be a handler come spring ultimate season in the 'Cuse.
- Oh, we played the Israeli version of Uno while in Islas Mujeres, where we also happened across the most amazing sunset our lives the first night there when we wandered to the beach. It was the only hour of our trip that I wasn't carrying the camera! damn.
- Cancun, surprisingly, was also a great place to practice our Spanish -- in the downtown area, but also on the beaches. There were so many tourism related people very willing to talk to us, so we often just stopped to chat about anything. It was often difficult, but great fun.
- Did I mention the beach time. Seriously, we've never been this tan in our lives. It looks completely unnatural and has meant added weight of large bottles of Aloe -- ugh.
- Just before leaving Guatemala, I FINALLY finished the 600+ People's History of the US (Liz is now trudging through that one). Unfortunately, that was really only the second book I read. (The World is Flat = also around 600 pages). But, having a little beach time over the last two weeks, I finally played catchup and read the log of books Liz has filed away: Animal Farm, Blood and Oil (we're all SCREWED, but still manage to love our SUVs -- stupid suburban), Portnoy's Complaint, and are now awaiting on new shipment from Margaret at the end of the week.
- While in Cancun, we took a break from our "serious" books to get through 500 pages of HP6 for fun. Hopefully, we'll find it again soon to finish up. It was just getting SO GOOD!
- Why all the books, you ask? Because that's what we do!
- Met even more GREAT people along the way and spent a few days (and towns) traveling with Ben (German), Nadia (Ben's friend from Germany who is from Prague and lives/works/studies in Mexico - got that?), Deano (British and fellow lover of LOST). It's interesting really; along the way, often weeks apart we come across familiar faces. The backpacking circuit can feel small at times. Familiar faces are nice sometimes, we just always hope for the nice ones! (I hate to not mention the dozens of great people that we met before getting to Mexico, both from our school all the way back in Xela over a year ago and many travelers on the Guatemala route....so much fun.)
(why the bullets?)
Some of our best and most memorable experiences so far have come from the many and varied conversations we have had: fellow travelers from around the world, local kids, shopkeepers, hostel owners, restaurant servers. They have covered quite a range of topics, and have never been disappointing. The common theme is generally sobering, with others wanting to know if we, and Americans in general, understand the real implications of US foreign policy. It often begins with talk about the Iraq war, but has taken many directions from there. We often find ourselves tempted or wanting to either defend or distance ourselves from our current administration or ongoing policies, but we try hard to be good listeners more than anything else. We have learned so much and look forward to many more conversations.
Luckily, not all conversations are so intense! We learned how big American sitcoms are in Europe and pondered the reality of David Hasslehoff being such a superstar in Germany (yes, it IS true!). We covered so many shows: A-Team, Fraggle Rock, Simpsons, Lost, Gilmore Girls...the list goes on.
After splitting from our friends and reluctantly leaving the white sandy beaches, we headed to Chetumal, Mexico, on the Belizean border where we experienced a great museum (on Mayan history and culture) and urban sprawl. It was shocking really. The downtown area had an assortment of shops, most of which seemed open, but there just weren't many people. When we headed out for a movie date just outside of downtown, we certainly found the people...at a huge mall! Weird, though it really shouldn't be I guess. Anyway, we really liked The Devil Wears Prada...and movie popcorn!
As we left Mexico the next day (yesterday), it turned into a bit of a fiasco. There is no official "departure tax" listed in our guide book, so we decided not to take out more money opting to wait to Belize and not bother with the money changers near the border. Oh, what a mistake that turned out to be! Little did we know, on our paperwork we received when entering Mexico (only illegal for one day, remember?), it said at the bottom that we each owed a good 210 pesos to exit. I'd like to think it was just small print, but we just never read the whole thing I guess. Customs agents didn't really care about our ignorance, so we had to scramble. We only had a few pesos, 1 US dollar, traveler's checks, a bunch of Guatemalan Quetzales and some Honduran Lempiras....not going to cut it. We were the last of the six foreigners on our bus to check at the immigration window, starting to get a little worried. Then the ATM across the street didn't accept our card. The bus' assistant was trying to help us out, taking us into what we thought was a bank. No luck. The only other option he gave us was to go back to Chetumal, find a bank and try again later. When contemplating that, we realized the bus was gone! What?!? Our BAGS WERE ON THERE!! He said not to worry, but it had to keep moving and already crossed the bridge into Belize. En Serio? Si. Our last ditch effort was to run with him over the bridge into Belize (illegal once again!) and beg the other foreigners on the bus to let us borrow some money, promising we'd follow them wherever they were going and pay them back once we find a bank together. Looking very desperate, winded and sweaty, a nice German couple helped us out! This time, Liz stayed on the bus and I ran back with the bus guy with the passports and money to get the stamps. THEN, thinking all was finished, we ran back into Belize only to realize the bus had left once again. He started to try to hail down taxis already full of other border-crossers, eventually jumping on an old school bus full of random car parts. They must have been friends, because he just told them to start driving. Less than a mile up the road, we were dropped off at the Belizean immigration office where I ran to meet up with Liz who was sitting on our bags wondering if I were ever coming back and thinking she was going to live the real life version of Terminal. Whew, what a day!
That said, we had to skip out on Northern Belize to head to Belize City to find a bank and pay back our new doctor friends. Crisis (mostly) averted!
Oh yeah, Margaret arrives in Belize City in only two days!! We really look forward to having some homely connection, which we deeply miss these days.
However, to help ourselves over the inevitable homesickness, we "splurged" (really, out of very little options) on a room in Belize City with a TV, where we were absolutely GLUED to the tube last night. So much so that we just ordered Thai food from the connected restaurant and they delivered it to our room! It was awesome! And great to watch the news and catch up a bit on what's going on in the states and elsewhere in the world, though of course most of it was completely depressing: school shootings, sex scandals in congress, and Vanity Fair once again coming through with the first baby pictures that no one should care about.
However, we will take this opportunity to watch the season premier of Lost tomorrow night! Sweet!
Until next time...
Friday, September 15, 2006
What´s Black and Blue and Scraped all over?
Lizzy!
So on this, our 68th day, we celebrate Guatemalan Independence Day. Festivities seemed to have begun full fledged yesterday as people from all around began coming into this small town of Lanquin for celebrations. Firecrackers (more than normal, which is already lots!), whistles, chants, drumming and other music -- it seems to be a festive affair. But the day is still young, and expectations are still high.
In the last week, we have traveled quite a bit staying no more than two nights in any given place. It began with crossing just over the border into Honduras to see the Mayan ruins at Copan. They are supposed to be some of the more pristine ruins, very well maintained and home to the "hieroglyphic stairway", which archaeological linguistics have discovered as telling the history of this sophisticated society. It is also the longest known consecutive hieroglyphic script. It was the first of many ruins we will encounter.
We then headed back into Guatemala and on to Rio Dulce, a riverside town on the Caribbean side of the country about 50 miles inland. We stayed at Bruno´s and quickly learned this particular area is one of the safest harbors in the Caribbean, evidenced by the probably hundreds of not-so-small sailboats and yachts docked to wait out hurricane season. (It was also a pleasant reminder that we are still in hurricane season and NEVER know what the weather is going to be.) We got there just in time to see a beautiful sunset from the top of the longest bridge in Guatemala. We woke up the next day and walked to a castle once used by Spanish conquistadors as a holding (torture) cell during the Spanish inquisition. Destroyed by earthquakes of the past, it was reconstructed in the 1950s and now a tourist site and the surrounding park a popular swimming destination for locals, mostly because it is HOT there.
From there, we zig-zagged (after missing a bus) back west and stopped for the night at a national park, Biotopo del Quetzal. The cool mountains were a welcome after the coastal heat. While there, thanks to the keen eye of the hotel owner´s daughter, we actually saw a Quetzal, the Guatemalan national bird. It is a brilliant green, with a mix of teal, and known for its extremely long tail. The Guatemalan currency is named after it.
From there, we zig-zagged (after missing a bus) back west and stopped for the night at a national park, Biotopo del Quetzal. The cool mountains were a welcome after the coastal heat. While there, thanks to the keen eye of the hotel owner´s daughter, we actually saw a Quetzal, the Guatemalan national bird. It is a brilliant green, with a mix of teal, and known for its extremely long tail. The Guatemalan currency is named after it.
While there, we started our ongoing game of Rummy (or maybe Gin or Gin Rummy...anyone know the difference). A few more rounds since and the score stands for now at...
Lizard = 1995
Bob = 2190
We woke up early the next day to finish our trek through Coban to Lanquin, where we have been for the past two days. Luckily, there was dorm space available in El Retiro, a highly recommended hostel in town. The first afternoon, we walked to the Lanquin caves for some amature spelunking (the kind with electrical lighting and stairways throughout). We took a nice tube ride down the emerald green river to get back to El Retiro in time for the evening´s festivities: an international game of Monopoly (where Campbanetti enterprises represented US capitalism well), an insane buffet feast for dinner (which is apparently a bi-weekly affair which we might just have to stick around for again!), and a little drinking and dancing to heal the Monopoly wounds (you know, the usual "foreign policy" of smoothing over of Capitalist effects).
Yesterday was perhaps our most spectacular day so far on our trip, certainly adding to the list of things you will not find anywhere else in the world. We visited the pools and caves of Semuc Champey. We still felt a little tired after a night of monopoly and dancing, but quickly woke up after a 30 minute winding ride through the mountains in the back of a pick-up truck. The pictures we took couldn't´t possibly capture the beauty of the mountains; it was breath-taking!
We arrived at the entrance of the park and split into two groups. Our group was a melting pot of nationalities and made for an entertaining day. We started with a 45 minute hike up an incredibly steep hill (love our keens!)to the ¨mirador¨, which was a look-out point above the pools of Semuc Champey. Millions of years ago the river cut through the mountains of limestone to create pockets of pools. However, the pools are not supplied by the water of the river, but by the water that runs off of the mountains. The river now circumvents its original path as it cuts through the mountain from a different route. This phenomena has created one of the most beautiful attractions in Guatemala.
After sufficiently capturing photos of the amazing view, we hiked another 30 minutes to the pools. Our guide and adventurous group didn´t waste any time and quickly dove into the first pool. This led to a 40 minute session of "pool hopping", where our guide brought us from one pool to the next. The depth of the pools varied greatly and we were able to dive into the middle and swim to the nearest embankment. From there we would climb out of the water onto the slippery limestone to the next pool. So incredibly fun.
After a super-healthy lunch of chips, peanut butter and crackers, we headed to the caves for an experience unlike anywhere else in the world -- probably because it would never be deemed safe enough anywhere else in the world! It took almost two hours going in and out. We each carried our own candle and walked, waded and swam through the water filled caves, all while trying to keep our only light source alive and well. There were ladders precariously tied to stalactites, that often led us through extremely narrow passages just (barely) enough for us to squeeze through. There was even one small pool we came to that couldn´t have been more than 15 feet in diameter where we voluntarily climbed 10 feet or so up the side of the cave and jumped in. (Let me repeat, the only light source was 12 candles, some of which would go out from the splashing canon balls!) It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time (as you can imagine has been a trend with our experiences). Are we glad we did it? Absolutely. Will we do it again? Hell no!
We finished with the caves around 4:00 pm, but we couldn't leave without one more adventure. A few people from our group, including Robert, found themselves standing on top of the bridge. They jumped into the rushing river forty feet below them! Unfortunately, the camera was running low on battery power, so "Bob" had to jump in twice. The second attempt left him with a sore bum, but an excellent picture!
Bruised, scraped, exhausted, and happy, we rode back to the hostel to enjoy dinner with our international crew.
What can we do in Mexico......
Friday, September 08, 2006
A Wise Person Once Said...
After you are done packing for a trip like this, go back through all of your stuff and take away at least half. (thanks Letitia)
Well, 100 bucks and a donation later we learned our lesson...
Everything on the left was in the "valuable" category of things that were shipped home (everyone please cross your fingers on that one. Mom and Dad, be on the lookout for its arrival in Mobile, supposedly in 10-15 days. And feel free to open it up and wash the dirty clothes!).
And those on the right were donated to a local hospital and social service organization (Marge, remember those few shirts I borrowed...Guatemalan children are better off for my having borrowed them!).
So, 25 pounds lighter and now being able to fit everything into our big packs and not be burdened with the heavy day packs on our front, we are ready to start travelling. We're now just waiting for our choloroquin to kick in and make us malaria-proof before leaving the safe areas of the highlands.
Once we leave Antigua tomorrow morning at 4am (ouch), we will be on a whirlwind 3 1/2 tour of Guatemala, a little Honduras and, time permitting, the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico before meeting Margaret in Belize City for a little scuba diving (snorkeling?), replenishing our book supply, and other familial activities -- wine drinking, sarcastic banter, the usual...
Plenty of stories to come...
Well, 100 bucks and a donation later we learned our lesson...
Everything on the left was in the "valuable" category of things that were shipped home (everyone please cross your fingers on that one. Mom and Dad, be on the lookout for its arrival in Mobile, supposedly in 10-15 days. And feel free to open it up and wash the dirty clothes!).
And those on the right were donated to a local hospital and social service organization (Marge, remember those few shirts I borrowed...Guatemalan children are better off for my having borrowed them!).
So, 25 pounds lighter and now being able to fit everything into our big packs and not be burdened with the heavy day packs on our front, we are ready to start travelling. We're now just waiting for our choloroquin to kick in and make us malaria-proof before leaving the safe areas of the highlands.
Once we leave Antigua tomorrow morning at 4am (ouch), we will be on a whirlwind 3 1/2 tour of Guatemala, a little Honduras and, time permitting, the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico before meeting Margaret in Belize City for a little scuba diving (snorkeling?), replenishing our book supply, and other familial activities -- wine drinking, sarcastic banter, the usual...
Plenty of stories to come...
Volcan Pacaya
On Wednesday, September 6, we set off to hike Volcano Pacaya, one of Guatemala's three active volcanoes. It came highly recommended by every traveler who has been through this area, mainly because it has been particularly active in the last month. Pictures we'd seen before hand were incredible -- National Geographic quality stuff with red lava spewing and flowing all within feet of the photographers. Like this one from Tom...
The hike itself, only about two hours, was cake after hiking Santa Maria. The final ascent, however, was quite different. The final 45 minutes was incredibly steep and all black ash -- it was like hiking a sand mountain where every step was slippery and tough. No need for our buns of steel workout the next day, that's for sure.
Unfortunately, September 6th wasn't a day of glowing red excitement. We did get to see a little through the cracks of last week's lava flow. But we also learned quickly that just because the rocks are black or grey does not mean they are cold! Even walking close to the lava flows, you could feel the heat radiating.
It was fascinating to see the effects of an active volcano. The lava flows protrude from the top like little tentacles, slowly (sometimes) moving down into the grassy, lush areas below. The tentacles we saw and climbed on were very neat. They didn't burn up everything around. The grass is still green right until the dried lava. The juxtaposition between the force and heat of a lava river and the lush greenery next to it almost seemed respectful. Granted, pictures in the visitors center of previously destructive eruptions show that the level of "respect" varies greatly. Lucky for us, it was a day of respect.
I don't really feel like getting into the fact that our guide seemed to risk losing his license (in his words) for taking us beyond the designated observation point. I think that because there was no lava, he thought we would be disappointed. To ensure that was not the case, he proceeded to lead us to the VERY TOP where the two main craters were spitting loads of sulfurous gas that had our entire group coughing and covering our mouths before hurrying back down (the hurrying was actually quite fun in the ash as you were almost skiing the entire way down...AND, Liz and I chose to ignore trails and head straight down the 45 degree slope, resulting in only minor injuries).
To get the closest view, the guides would literally hold onto people as they leaned in attempting to peer into the craters in search of lava. It was one of those times that you begin to question the benefit vs. risk of such an "extreme" sort of outing. Maybe that's just us getting old and losing our "edge", but the idea of falling into a crater of lava...well, I'll take old over a fiery death any day!
The hike itself, only about two hours, was cake after hiking Santa Maria. The final ascent, however, was quite different. The final 45 minutes was incredibly steep and all black ash -- it was like hiking a sand mountain where every step was slippery and tough. No need for our buns of steel workout the next day, that's for sure.
Unfortunately, September 6th wasn't a day of glowing red excitement. We did get to see a little through the cracks of last week's lava flow. But we also learned quickly that just because the rocks are black or grey does not mean they are cold! Even walking close to the lava flows, you could feel the heat radiating.
It was fascinating to see the effects of an active volcano. The lava flows protrude from the top like little tentacles, slowly (sometimes) moving down into the grassy, lush areas below. The tentacles we saw and climbed on were very neat. They didn't burn up everything around. The grass is still green right until the dried lava. The juxtaposition between the force and heat of a lava river and the lush greenery next to it almost seemed respectful. Granted, pictures in the visitors center of previously destructive eruptions show that the level of "respect" varies greatly. Lucky for us, it was a day of respect.
I don't really feel like getting into the fact that our guide seemed to risk losing his license (in his words) for taking us beyond the designated observation point. I think that because there was no lava, he thought we would be disappointed. To ensure that was not the case, he proceeded to lead us to the VERY TOP where the two main craters were spitting loads of sulfurous gas that had our entire group coughing and covering our mouths before hurrying back down (the hurrying was actually quite fun in the ash as you were almost skiing the entire way down...AND, Liz and I chose to ignore trails and head straight down the 45 degree slope, resulting in only minor injuries).
To get the closest view, the guides would literally hold onto people as they leaned in attempting to peer into the craters in search of lava. It was one of those times that you begin to question the benefit vs. risk of such an "extreme" sort of outing. Maybe that's just us getting old and losing our "edge", but the idea of falling into a crater of lava...well, I'll take old over a fiery death any day!
Antigua
We arrived in Antigua on Monday, September 4 and stayed long enough for our malaria medicine to kick in before moving on.
Antigua is a beautiful, old colonial town with a fair share of churches and architecture from its days of Spanish rule. It served as the colonial capital of Guatemala before the earthquake of 1773 destroyed virtually the entire city, after which the capital was transferred to Gautemala City. The wide cobblestone streets and beautiful Parque Central give the city unmatched character. It's easily the most attractive city we have visited thusfar. The architecture has remained largely the same over the centuries, though it is still hard to imagine these same streets, now filled with internet cafes, travel agencies, and upscale restaurants, were once ruled by blacksmiths, horses and buggies, and Spanish conquistadors.
Antigua is a beautiful, old colonial town with a fair share of churches and architecture from its days of Spanish rule. It served as the colonial capital of Guatemala before the earthquake of 1773 destroyed virtually the entire city, after which the capital was transferred to Gautemala City. The wide cobblestone streets and beautiful Parque Central give the city unmatched character. It's easily the most attractive city we have visited thusfar. The architecture has remained largely the same over the centuries, though it is still hard to imagine these same streets, now filled with internet cafes, travel agencies, and upscale restaurants, were once ruled by blacksmiths, horses and buggies, and Spanish conquistadors.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
We ain't Chicken!
Transportation in Guatemala is remarkable. If you want to go anywhere in the country, you can--pretty inexpensively! Granted, that means you may be flagging down a pick-up truck on the side of the road or traveling by the infamous "chicken bus" system.
What's a chicken bus, you may ask. They are retired American exported school buses that have been painted and customized to the bus operator's liking. In my opinion, they were retired because they couldn't pass an emissions test in the US. The wake of black smoke that is left behind a bus can leave you gasping for fresh air.
Our bus, that that took us from Xela to Los Encuentros, was painted green with red accents and was so affectionately named "Carmen". Most of the chicken buses proudly bear a female name on the front. We discussed this among our female friends here and decided there wasn't anything appealing about having a bus named after you. "Honey, you're as wide as a bus." or "Sweetheart, you smell like a bus." See. Nothing good.
Anyway, these buses are notorious for packing in as many people as possible and for the drivers to be a little, let's just say, aggressive. Some advised to use a private bus service, but living on a budget and knowing many friends who rode the chicken system unscathed, we decided---we ain't chicken!
The morning started earlier than expected. After hearing the news about the potential protests, we called for a cab to pick us up at 4:30 am to catch the 5:00 am bus. Our cab driver was a little late, but made up for lost time by barreling down the deserted cobblestone streets to the bus terminal.
Terminal Minerva, the hub of the chicken system in Xela, was nothing more than a dirt field next to the shopping center. Since we arrived when it was still dark, it was difficult to see. But, the smell of exhaust confirmed we had reached our destination. Our cab driver validated the departure time of 5 am with a man "working" the terminal. He assured our direct bus would be coming around the bend in five short minutes. Excellent!
Twenty long minutes later, no bus. With a growing concern of being held up by the protests, we decided to split up. Robert checked with each of the bus drivers and I sought out another worker who may have had a better idea of the schedule. After many different stories and ten quetzales (about $1.25), we were on a bus to Guatemala City, where we could transfer to another bus to Panajachel. However, we didn't leave before we had a chance to see the "taxi" with blown headlights pull up to the station in the dark. The driver was quite innovative. Not to be stopped by something as benign as blown headlights, he attached a metal tub to the top of his car, where a fire raged to light his way. I can't believe we didn't get a picture!
When we left Xela, there were only four people and our giant bags on board. We sat in different seats across the aisle from one another (the furthest we had been apart in weeks!). Exhausted, but unable to sleep, as we wound through the highlands of Xela like a bat out of hell. White-knuckled and convinced that the "this bus is surveyed by cameras" sign was left from its time in the states, we were comforted by the "God bless this bus" sign.
Our bus came to an abrupt stop at Los Encuentros, where my very friendly and very ripe seat-mate explained our journey together had come to an end. Our stuff, Bert, and I spilled into the aisle, where my bag became stuck between the floor and the seats. I had created a serious bottle-neck at the front of the bus. After much kicking and maneuvering (not to mention oodles of laughing), we freed my bag and exited the bus--to everyone's delight!
We jumped on a bus to Panajachel, and threw our bags on top. We were separated again on this bus, where Robert and I towered over the Guatemaltecos. As we looked around at our fellow travelers, we both confirmed we had exceeded the maximum capacity of 50 posted at the front. Surely, it too was left from its stint in the US. We arrived at Solola and changed buses again.
So, four hours, two transfers and 40 quetzales (about $5) later, we arrived at our destination. We were relatively unscathed (to be shared in the Great Escape-uncensored) and proved for sure --that we ain't chicken!
Saturday, August 26, 2006
La Casa Del Mundo
Dark and early on the morning of Friday, August 18, we left our home and family in Xela to set off on even more adventures. The 4:30am departure wasn't exactly what we had in mind...
Thursday night, as we were packing, Martha came in to tell us that there might be a problem with our travels the next day. Once again, there were to be major protests near Xela at the major intersection just outside of town -- Cuatro Caminos. Sure enough, we had to go through that intersection on our way to Lake Atitlan. We are not exactly sure the details of the protest, but it had something to do with disagreements between teachers and the government over how many years of school were required for teachers to be certified. To get to this point, with weekly protests slowing down all major commerce, things must have been bad.
Rosi (Martha's daughter) had called with the news; to confirm, her son called his "connections" in the government to see what time the protests were going to take place. Much to our dismay, there were to go from 6am - 6pm. So much for our mid-day bus!
Luckily, and with Martha's help, we arranged for a cab to pick us up at 4:30am in hopes of catching a 5am bus. It all worked out in the end, though the 4 hour journey is worth its own story that is in the works...
Fast forward--
We eventually arrived at La Casa Del Mundo around 9:30am, in time for a fabulous breakfast followed by a much needed nap as we waited for check-in time. It's truly hard to describe just how nice the weekend was.
The setting was perfect. Each of the 15 rooms overlooked the lake. The balconies at water level were great for soaking in the sun or taking a cool swim. The beds -- words cannot describe the comfort, particularly the cloud-like pillows that we (I) had been longing for. Meals were AMAZING -- easily the best we have had on our trip, and the Chilean wine was equally as tasty. Dinner was served family style and we got to meet many other travelers, a few of whom confirmed just how small a world it really is. Kayaks were available for use. It was heavenly, and a perfect setting for our first anniversary!
Unfortunately, our budget wouldn't allow us to stay much longer...if we wanted to eat, that is. So we convinced ourselves to explore other cities around the lake, which has been great.
Enjoy the pictures of La Casa Del Mundo...
Thursday night, as we were packing, Martha came in to tell us that there might be a problem with our travels the next day. Once again, there were to be major protests near Xela at the major intersection just outside of town -- Cuatro Caminos. Sure enough, we had to go through that intersection on our way to Lake Atitlan. We are not exactly sure the details of the protest, but it had something to do with disagreements between teachers and the government over how many years of school were required for teachers to be certified. To get to this point, with weekly protests slowing down all major commerce, things must have been bad.
Rosi (Martha's daughter) had called with the news; to confirm, her son called his "connections" in the government to see what time the protests were going to take place. Much to our dismay, there were to go from 6am - 6pm. So much for our mid-day bus!
Luckily, and with Martha's help, we arranged for a cab to pick us up at 4:30am in hopes of catching a 5am bus. It all worked out in the end, though the 4 hour journey is worth its own story that is in the works...
Fast forward--
We eventually arrived at La Casa Del Mundo around 9:30am, in time for a fabulous breakfast followed by a much needed nap as we waited for check-in time. It's truly hard to describe just how nice the weekend was.
The setting was perfect. Each of the 15 rooms overlooked the lake. The balconies at water level were great for soaking in the sun or taking a cool swim. The beds -- words cannot describe the comfort, particularly the cloud-like pillows that we (I) had been longing for. Meals were AMAZING -- easily the best we have had on our trip, and the Chilean wine was equally as tasty. Dinner was served family style and we got to meet many other travelers, a few of whom confirmed just how small a world it really is. Kayaks were available for use. It was heavenly, and a perfect setting for our first anniversary!
Unfortunately, our budget wouldn't allow us to stay much longer...if we wanted to eat, that is. So we convinced ourselves to explore other cities around the lake, which has been great.
Enjoy the pictures of La Casa Del Mundo...
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Cambiamos nuestros planes.
Buen dia a todos. Beinvenidos de Lago de Atitlan! Esperamos esta correo electronico los encuentra bien. Queremos darlos nueva informacion sobre nuestro viaje.
Rapidamente... (No es possible para mi, pero mi esposa insiste!)
We have changed our plans quite a bit from our original idea -- mostly because WE CAN! Xela, our school, and our host family were all great. But for a plethora of reasons, we have decided to move on a little earlier than originally planned.
1) 5 hours a day of classes is INTENSE to say the least -- not unexpected, but more than we hoped it would be. Between school and homework, there wasn't enough time to actually learn what we were being taught. So we are taking some time off from formal schooling, practicing as we travel and studying on our own.
2) Schools have an inherently transient feel. Most students stay for two or three weeks. We met wonderful people, but they kept leaving us! And, they kept telling us stories of places we should visit. So we are...
3) Xela is COLD. I mean, it's not upstate NY winter cold, but this is the most beautiful time of year back home and we don't want to spend it all bundled up!
4) A few weeks back we booked a room at La Casa Del Mundo, a paradise-like hotel on Lake Atitlan. Check the map again on the blog, but it's about three hours West of Xela -- halfway back to Guatemala City. The hotel was AMAZING. Seriously, it was heavenly. We will post pics and things when we have a faster connection, but just try to imagine private, comfortable beds (and wonderful pillows!), all 15 rooms with gorgeous views of the volcanoes across the lake, gourmet food served family style for dinner, hammocks, kayaks (and cliff diving!), patios from which to swim or sunbathe. I'm almost tearing up just thinking about how nice it was!
As all of these things piled up, we realized it made sense that after our anniversary on the lake we will just stay in the area to relax, read and study. While there are conveniences we miss from Xela, we are very happy with the change. The weather here on the lake is amazing -- warm days and cool (not cold) nights. And you just can't beat the views.
Our first stop after paradise is in the small lake town of San Marcos La Laguna -- a small hippie town known for its convergence of "free spirits" and thought to have a magical spiritual vibe. There is plenty of vegetarian food, yoga, massages, meditation, holistic healing centers, composting toilets, and, fortunately for our stomachs, Ramen Noodles (which, along with Coke and Pepsi, are EVERYWHERE!).
That said, a quick walk through town confirms its peacefulness and tranquility. We might be here awhile!
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Los Vahos
On Tuesday, August 15, we took a short trip just outside of Xela to Los Vahos ("The Vapors"). It was a small little cluster of buildings at the end of a 45 minute hike off of a main road out of town. It was heavenly, but hot as hell!
The natural saunas there are fueled by veins of volcanic heat pumped right into our own private little room. The temperature was easily over 110 degrees according to my trusty EMS thermometer. We lasted an impressive 30 minutes sweltering in the heat and enjoyed the cold shower.
We later learned from our host family that many indigenous people believe the saunas help detoxify the body; they also believe the vapors promote "let down" for breast milk, and often go to Los Vahos a few days after giving birth.
The natural saunas there are fueled by veins of volcanic heat pumped right into our own private little room. The temperatur
We later learned from our host family that many indigenous people believe the saunas help detoxify the body; they also believe the vapors promote "let down" for breast milk, and often go to Los Vahos a few days after giving birth.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Especially for Tami and Sue: A Day In the Life
I apologize for the delay in this much requested post.
This is what a typical week day has been like for us these past five weeks. However, after next week, Robert and I head out to explore Guatemala and beyond.....
A Day in The Life of Bert and Liz Campbell
6:00 am- After hitting snooze for 10 minutes (yes, we do that here too!), Robert and I furiously finish our homework from the night before (for those of my college friends, you know my homework switch turns off around 9:00 pm).
7:12 am- I throw on a long-sleeved t-shirt, wrap my towel (it is pink with minnie mouse on it) around my waist, put on my flip-flops, and head for the bathroom.
7:15 am- I am done! It is really cold here. Showers are short and sweet (just like me!)
7:20 am- I pass my wet flip-flops to Bert and he heads into the shower.
7:20 am to 7:30am- I dry my hair while Bert finishes his shower.
7:30 am- We eat breakfast with our host mother. We usually have eggs, black beans, and bread every morning. (I repeat, EVERY morning. We are on day 20 of black beans and eggs. Needless to say, Robert and I need to drink A LOT of water. Yikes!)
7:55 am- Literally, we walk across the street to our school. (By the way, it is somewhere between 50 and 55 degrees here in the morning, and Robert and I have limited choices in our attire. I have worn the same jeans and sweater for 15 days now!)
8:00 am- School bell rings, and classes begin.
8:01 am to 10:30 am- Classes go something like this, "Lo siento, que? Si, Lo siento.....que? Repite por favor."
10:30 am to 11:00 am- We speak in English as quickly as possible to express all of the things we wanted to say in Spanish. Oh and we eat a lot of bread. (By this time of the day, we are starting to de-layer our clothes. It can get into the 70's in the sun.)
11:00 am to 1:00 pm- We continue with classes.
1:00 pm to 2:00 pm- We go home and eat lunch with our host mother and her housekeeper, Angela. This is typically the largest meal of the day and it is difficult to stay awake afterwards. Our host mother (and Angela) are excellent cooks and we have enjoyed a variety of local cuisines.
2:00 pm to 3:00 pm- Siesta!
3:00 pm to 7:00 pm- We spend a lot of time walking around the town and trying the hot chocolate at the many little cafes here. We usually find a cafe and spend the next few hours studying and doing our homework.
7:00 pm to 8:30 pm- We return home to Martha's house, where she has a small dinner waiting for us. These meals are typically composed of bread, bread, more bread, and oh yeah, bread! But, I admit this is my favorite time of the day. Robert and I usually spend over an hour talking and drinking tea with Martha. I am certainly going to miss her when we leave.
8:30 to ?- Bert and I spend a lot of time in our room in the evenings. We work on homework, read, and talk about our day. It is great to have him to share all these new experiences. We are both learning so much; not only about Guatemala, but about ourselves too.
Every Friday evening, there is a graduation ceremony at the school. We get together with other students and eat dinner. Typically, we go out afterwards. It has been a great way to meet some interesting people. Saturday and Sunday we are free to do whatever we want. Those days have been filled with wonderful excursions and we have the link to the pictures posted.
Although the routine has been comfortable and relaxing, we are ready to move on to the next part of our trip. We will spend one week in Xela without taking classes, and then head to Lake Atitlan to celebrate our first anniversary. It is hard to believe that one year has already passed. We are looking forward to our next adventures and sharing them with you. Stay tuned.....
This is what a typical week day has been like for us these past five weeks. However, after next week, Robert and I head out to explore Guatemala and beyond.....
A Day in The Life of Bert and Liz Campbell
6:00 am- After hitting snooze for 10 minutes (yes, we do that here too!), Robert and I furiously finish our homework from the night before (for those of my college friends, you know my homework switch turns off around 9:00 pm).
7:12 am- I throw on a long-sleeved t-shirt, wrap my towel (it is pink with minnie mouse on it) around my waist, put on my flip-flops, and head for the bathroom.
7:15 am- I am done! It is really cold here. Showers are short and sweet (just like me!)
7:20 am- I pass my wet flip-flops to Bert and he heads into the shower.
7:20 am to 7:30am- I dry my hair while Bert finishes his shower.
7:30 am- We eat breakfast with our host mother. We usually have eggs, black beans, and bread every morning. (I repeat, EVERY morning. We are on day 20 of black beans and eggs. Needless to say, Robert and I need to drink A LOT of water. Yikes!)
7:55 am- Literally, we walk across the street to our school. (By the way, it is somewhere between 50 and 55 degrees here in the morning, and Robert and I have limited choices in our attire. I have worn the same jeans and sweater for 15 days now!)
8:00 am- School bell rings, and classes begin.
8:01 am to 10:30 am- Classes go something like this, "Lo siento, que? Si, Lo siento.....que? Repite por favor."
10:30 am to 11:00 am- We speak in English as quickly as possible to express all of the things we wanted to say in Spanish. Oh and we eat a lot of bread. (By this time of the day, we are starting to de-layer our clothes. It can get into the 70's in the sun.)
11:00 am to 1:00 pm- We continue with classes.
1:00 pm to 2:00 pm- We go home and eat lunch with our host mother and her housekeeper, Angela. This is typically the largest meal of the day and it is difficult to stay awake afterwards. Our host mother (and Angela) are excellent cooks and we have enjoyed a variety of local cuisines.
2:00 pm to 3:00 pm- Siesta!
3:00 pm to 7:00 pm- We spend a lot of time walking around the town and trying the hot chocolate at the many little cafes here. We usually find a cafe and spend the next few hours studying and doing our homework.
7:00 pm to 8:30 pm- We return home to Martha's house, where she has a small dinner waiting for us. These meals are typically composed of bread, bread, more bread, and oh yeah, bread! But, I admit this is my favorite time of the day. Robert and I usually spend over an hour talking and drinking tea with Martha. I am certainly going to miss her when we leave.
8:30 to ?- Bert and I spend a lot of time in our room in the evenings. We work on homework, read, and talk about our day. It is great to have him to share all these new experiences. We are both learning so much; not only about Guatemala, but about ourselves too.
Every Friday evening, there is a graduation ceremony at the school. We get together with other students and eat dinner. Typically, we go out afterwards. It has been a great way to meet some interesting people. Saturday and Sunday we are free to do whatever we want. Those days have been filled with wonderful excursions and we have the link to the pictures posted.
Although the routine has been comfortable and relaxing, we are ready to move on to the next part of our trip. We will spend one week in Xela without taking classes, and then head to Lake Atitlan to celebrate our first anniversary. It is hard to believe that one year has already passed. We are looking forward to our next adventures and sharing them with you. Stay tuned.....
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Xelaju Super Chivas
Last Saturday night, August 5, we went to the home opener of Xela's national league fútbol team -- Xelaju Super Chivas. It was quite an experience.
The game started at 8pm, but we bought tickets early upon recommendation. Someone in our school or in a host family even mentioned getting there (and staying there) starting about 3pm for the game. Futbol is HUGE here, as it is in most of the world outside of the US. And it being a World Cup year (why Zuzu, why??), the excitement was that much higher for the home opener of Xela's beloved Super Billy Goats.
After a quick dinner at Tacos No Mas, we headed to the stadium. It was crazy and will be hard to capture in words (particularly because we are losing our ability to speak in English after talking like a third grader 5 hours a day).
The stadium isn't what likely comes to mind -- Death Valley, Rose Bowl, Old Trafford, even Ladd-Peebles. Think more....well, don't really think about stadiums you have seen. The newly constructed stadium seating at one end dominates the seating. Everything else is about four tiers high all the way around, with prime seating being on top of the 20 ft. concrete walls enclosing the entire structure. We got a pretty good spot down front in the large stands behind one goal.
Streets were blocked off all around the stadium. Venders were everywhere and all seemed to be getting lots of business. It was packed and the energy was high. Yet we still had no idea what we were in for. Small and large groups had already started chanting as both teams warmed up an hour before kickoff. Trumpets blasted mostly regognizable melodies as people chanted the often profane words (we'd met a 6 ft. 8 in. Peace Corp Volunteer earlier in the day at the glass blowing factory that stayed with us and provided some translation...not that we really wanted to know what they were saying).
The best, and most shocking, came as the teams formally took the field through the tunnel. The opposing team was greeted with a series of "boos" and a few other extremely unpleasant comments and gestures.
Then it happened.
Xelaju took the field. We thought it had been wild the hour before? HARDLY! Everything kicked up about 50 more notches. Fireworks...EVERYWHERE. And I don't just mean a stadium sponsored fireworks show while the crowd clappend and cheered. I mean FIREWORKS. I think we might have been some of the only people in the stadium not carrying our own stash. Sparklers. Flare-looking things. The usual bottle rockets. Strings of m80s (at least 1000 went off over the insuing 5 minutes).
And my favorite -- the hand held bottle rockets. I'm not even sure how to describe them, but as we looked behind us, dozens of people were holding their hands straight out and somewhat shielding their eyes. It looked like they were holding skinny, colored, paper towel tubes. But believe me, this was no paper towel tube. Out of the end was a seemingly endless supply of quick shooting small white flares. They typically went about 30 or 40 yards through the air, making a high-pitched whistling noise before dying on the field, in the air, or before hitting someone else in the stands! (Jeff aptly proclaimed, "They're shooting at us! They're shooting at us!)
It was GREAT! And the game hadn't even begun.
The rest was just details. The Super Chivas prevailed on a shutout 3 goal performance. A great way to open up the home season. A few pics are below for your viewing pleasure. We will hopefully see a few more games in and around Guatemala over the next month or two and only hope for just as much fun!
The game started at 8pm, but we bought tickets early upon recommendation. Someone in our school or in a host family even mentioned getting there (and staying there) starting about 3pm for the game. Futbol is HUGE here, as it is in most of the world outside of the US. And it being a World Cup year (why Zuzu, why??), the excitement was that much higher for the home opener of Xela's beloved Super Billy Goats.
After a quick dinner at Tacos No Mas, we headed to the stadium. It was crazy and will be hard to capture in words (particularly because we are losing our ability to speak in English after talking like a third grader 5 hours a day).
The stadium isn't what likely comes to mind -- Death Valley, Rose Bowl, Old Trafford, even Ladd-Peebles. Think more....well, don't really think about stadiums you have seen. The newly constructed stadium seating at one end dominates the seating. Everything else is about four tiers high all the way around, with prime seating being on top of the 20 ft. concrete walls enclosing the entire structure. We got a pretty good spot down front in the large stands behind one goal.
Streets were blocked off all around the stadium. Venders were everywhere and all seemed to be getting lots of business. It was packed and the energy was high. Yet we still had no idea what we were in for. Small and large groups had already started chanting as both teams warmed up an hour before kickoff. Trumpets blasted mostly regognizable melodies as people chanted the often profane words (we'd met a 6 ft. 8 in. Peace Corp Volunteer earlier in the day at the glass blowing factory that stayed with us and provided some translation...not that we really wanted to know what they were saying).
The best, and most shocking, came as the teams formally took the field through the tunnel. The opposing team was greeted with a series of "boos" and a few other extremely unpleasant comments and gestures.
Then it happened.
Xelaju took the field. We thought it had been wild the hour before? HARDLY! Everything kicked up about 50 more notches. Fireworks...EVERYWHERE. And I don't just mean a stadium sponsored fireworks show while the crowd clappend and cheered. I mean FIREWORKS. I think we might have been some of the only people in the stadium not carrying our own stash. Sparklers. Flare-looking things. The usual bottle rockets. Strings of m80s (at least 1000 went off over the insuing 5 minutes).
And my favorite -- the hand held bottle rockets. I'm not even sure how to describe them, but as we looked behind us, dozens of people were holding their hands straight out and somewhat shielding their eyes. It looked like they were holding skinny, colored, paper towel tubes. But believe me, this was no paper towel tube. Out of the end was a seemingly endless supply of quick shooting small white flares. They typically went about 30 or 40 yards through the air, making a high-pitched whistling noise before dying on the field, in the air, or before hitting someone else in the stands! (Jeff aptly proclaimed, "They're shooting at us! They're shooting at us!)
It was GREAT! And the game hadn't even begun.
The rest was just details. The Super Chivas prevailed on a shutout 3 goal performance. A great way to open up the home season. A few pics are below for your viewing pleasure. We will hopefully see a few more games in and around Guatemala over the next month or two and only hope for just as much fun!
Did I Really Marry Someone Who Says, "Wicked Cool"?
........I will save that pondering for another post.
So on to more important things; I have heard quite a bit of criticism from mis amigos about our posts lately. Some say that they have gotten a little too serious for their liking. Well, too bad! It's our blog, not yours. Start your own blog and write about whatever you want: fast food, cable TV, warm showers, ice in your drinks, hell you can even write about your glutenous desire to read US Weekly (MC, could you write me with more details on Pam and Kid Rock-those crazy kids!) Robert and I are serious people with serious things to share; and just because so many of you infinitelizard critics have been so harsh, we are holding off on Robert's intestinal fortitude piece. A form of punishment, some may say.
So, we are off to hear how the introduction of religion has killed the Mayan culture, and there will be more serious posts to come!
So on to more important things; I have heard quite a bit of criticism from mis amigos about our posts lately. Some say that they have gotten a little too serious for their liking. Well, too bad! It's our blog, not yours. Start your own blog and write about whatever you want: fast food, cable TV, warm showers, ice in your drinks, hell you can even write about your glutenous desire to read US Weekly (MC, could you write me with more details on Pam and Kid Rock-those crazy kids!) Robert and I are serious people with serious things to share; and just because so many of you infinitelizard critics have been so harsh, we are holding off on Robert's intestinal fortitude piece. A form of punishment, some may say.
So, we are off to hear how the introduction of religion has killed the Mayan culture, and there will be more serious posts to come!
Dork Alert!
Thanks to Nolan, feedblitz, and my infinite dorkiness (yes, even in foreign countries), I added a feature to the blog that will email you once a day with any new blog posts. That way you (Claire, foodbankcnyers, etc.) don't have to check so much from work. Don't worry, if you are checking to see if you won the translation competition -- which I completely forgot about until just now -- I will put that up as soon as I find the translation.
So I realize this feature is completely unnecessary, but it's also wicked cool. You can sign up on the toolbar on the right.
Enjoy.
So I realize this feature is completely unnecessary, but it's also wicked cool. You can sign up on the toolbar on the right.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Fifty Marathons, Fifty States, Fifty Days
A friend of mine from college, Sam Thompson, is 40 marathons into an event I feel compelled to share. He began July 1st and is running marathons daily for 50 consecutive days, all to raise awareness and funds for Hurricane Katrina Relief efforts. Liz and I were just reading his blog and it is amazing. He is ACTUALLY doing it! It´s worth checking out...
Pictures
We have started to regularly post pictures online. They are stored in our picasaweb account (http://picasaweb.google.com/rcampbell) which is also now linked on the toolbar on the right.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Mary Poppins worked for the Guerillas?
The Guatemalan civil war is a topic that Robert and I are starting to know quite a bit about. It is one thing to read about the effects of war in a history class or see a news channel's perspective on the television, but we are living in the aftermath of an incredibly unjust and complicated civil war that affected thousands of people. And we have the opportunity to hear what those people think and feel about the war and Guatemala today, first hand. To read more about the war click here.
Two particular personal stories come to mind and I am having a hard time processing, or I guess believing, that humanity can be so raw and cruel. I feel like I need to pass on these stories, and be a voice for those who should be heard.
Story 1
This past Wednesday Bert and I ventured to an organization called Entre Mundos, a volunteer coordination hub, to hear a torture victim from the Civil War share his story. The conference was held in a modest courtyard, which is very common in the colonial-style buildings of historic zone 1. There were plastic chairs and wood benches placed around a "stage" where two stools and a table sat, which were for the speaker and his translator. The speaker, whose name was Pedro, looked like he was close to 80 years old, but, like many Guatemalans, he looked much older than he actually was. His face looked weathered as if he had spent many long days working on his land unshielded from the sun; he wore blue jeans, work boots, and an old-school green Celtics jacket. He looked kind and very timid.
We spent the next 2 hours listening to him retell his painful experience in great detail. There were times that he held his head in his hands as if he couldn't bear to spend another second reliving those moments. But, he always continued and it was difficult to hear what he had to say. He lived in a small indigenous village in the mountains of Guatemala. He was the coordinator of a large farming co-op and had no ties to either side of the civil war. It was common practice for the Guerrillas (the rebels) to demand food and shelter (among other things) at gun point and for the government to consider those who obliged the guerrillas' "requests" as conspirators. Many innocent people died at the hands of both sides not knowing what either of them were even fighting over. And many of those people happened to be indigenous.
One day the military came to his small village and demanded that he come with them. He didn't know why they chose him or where he was going. The tied him up, stripped him of his clothes, and threw him in the back of a military vehicle. That was the beginning of his torture. He endured rounds of beatings and interrogations; sometimes he went days without water or food. The military was convinced he was a rebel and wanted him to divulge his co-conspirators. But, he wasn't a rebel, and he refused to give up innocent persons' names. The beatings continued. They bit his ear, spit on him, and stabbed him with knives. Still, he endured. After months of this treatment, he was released and returned to his village. However, he did not feel safe and was not accepted by his neighbors. He left by foot to live in Mexico and left his property and family behind. He returned to Guatemala in 1998, but couldn't return to his land or village. He now lives in a village composed mostly of refugees from the war. And 8 years later, he still hasn't seen retribution (monetarily) from the government.
Story 2
During the war, my teacher joined an organization that worked to reestablish war-torn areas. Among many projects, they created schools and cultivated crops. Miriam worked there for two years before she realized that this "organization" was really a front for the guerrilla forces. After learning of this facade, she started to get to know some of the women in the village better. Many of them were living in the mountains hiding from the military. And among the many difficult decisions they had to make, they often had to choose between leaving the protection of the guerrillas to raise their children or to "dispose" of the children. Miriam said she knew many women who became pregnant and either had an abortion or smothered their child at birth in order to stay within the protected group.
Miriam continued to work teaching children Spanish lessons and found herself well known by the organization's top authorities. They recognized her commitment and talent and felt compelled to harness her skills for use in the war. She continually received pressure to leave the country to train in Cuba where, on her return, she could join the guerrilla forces. Miriam, at the time, had young children and used that as her defense against the training. Needless to say, she left the group shortly after the pressures became threatening.
These stories only begin to scratch the surface of the thousands of stories that exist in post-war Guatemala. I hope to learn more about the war and to continue to share those stories....
Chichicastenango
As you might have noticed, we are a bit slow to post much of anything to this blog of ours. Mostly, that is because after having five hours of classes every morning, we typically have mucha tarea (lots of homework). When both are completed, our brains are fried and we need mental down time. That being said, we have gone on some fabulous weekend (and weekday) excursions in and around Xela that we will try to share. As it decided to rain this afternoon before tonight's home opener for the Xelaju Super Chivas (local futbol team), we decided to share...
One such was two weekends ago to the town of Chichicastenango (or Chichi to us gringos). Chichi is first and foremost known for its biweekly market which is said to be the most colorful in Guatemala, Central Amercia and possibly all of the Americas. The town has been a dominant trading hub in the largely Mayan area for centuries and it was overwhelmingly impressive. Market days are Thursday and Sunday and they are packed -- so much so that many friends recommended you go the night before in order to be up for the early morning (4am!) sales by candlelight.
A bit of backround again from Wikipedia (very similar and much easier that typing from our guidebook)...
Our school organized the outing and there were maybe 25 other people with us. The travel in the two private microbuses (squatty minivan type vehicles you don't see in the states) was a "trip" in itself and makes us really look forward to riding chicken buses all over Central America! We were winding through the mountains on a two lane road, mostly well paved, and passing other cars/trucks/bikes at will. And the passing system here is a bit different than what we might be used to, or shall I say one that we are "comfortable" with. Think of those pretty double yellow lines in two lane highways that are conveniently dotted when someone decided it is safe to pass -- or solid yellow lines advising against it....they may even have some legality attached to them in the states.
Okay, now forget about pretty yellow lines, add lots of turns on mountain roads, little use of the brakes at any point, lots of honking, and one of the teachers pops in a CD and on the radio starts blasting none other than -- Highway to Hell!! I promise I'm not making this up. I actually got out my camera to take short video to document the insane irony. Fortunately, the 80s jam continued for an entire CD which we jammed to for a good portion of the 4 hour trip. How fitting a start!
We arrived safely in Chichi and had about 4 hours to wander, look, smell, and, of course, bargain. It seems to be the way things go. The vendors really are talking/yelling at anyone who passes, but particularly to foreigners. As expected, the experience came with mixed emotions. It is partly invigorating (and fun!) to really bargain and feel very much a part of the centuries old market system, but it is simultaneously disheartening as they lowered their prices again and again.
Still very ignorant of the economy, it is hard to know just what was behind it all. When she lowered the price of a table runner from 700Q to 400Q without our saying anything at all but only by starting to walk away, does it show the level of inflation that comes with our skin or just how much they need the money? Did the few dollars we paid for shirts and a bag cover the production costs? What exactly are "production costs" here anyway? Outside of material costs, how is an individual's labor value determined? Does it depend more on how much money they need at the time of the sale than the countless hours that went into the beautifully hand woven crafts?
So much more to learn...
We were fortunate enough that in the next week, the school also organized a weaving demonstration and testimony from a local women's cooperative. It helped give insight into the artisan culture. More on that later. For now, enjoy the pictures of Chichicastenango...
One such was two weekends ago to the town of Chichicastenango (or Chichi to us gringos). Chichi is first and foremost known for its biweekly market which is said to be the most colorful in Guatemala, Central Amercia and possibly all of the Americas. The town has been a dominant trading hub in the largely Mayan area for centuries and it was overwhelmingly impressive. Market days are Thursday and Sunday and they are packed -- so much so that many friends recommended you go the night before in order to be up for the early morning (4am!) sales by candlelight.
A bit of backround again from Wikipedia (very similar and much easier that typing from our guidebook)...
The market and experience was wonderful and it really is as colorful and erratic as it sounds. Pictures are below, but a bit about the trip overall...The famous handicraft market of Chichicastenango draws not only the K'iche' Maya of the surrounding region, but vendors from all over Guatemala. They represent many of Guatemala's linguistic groups: Mam, Ixil, Kaqchikel, and others (Guatemala has 23 indigenous languages). Each person hawks his or her products in a cacophony of color, dialects, costumes, smoke, and smells.
Vendors start setting up their own portable booths in the main plaza and nearby streets of Chichicastenango the night before and set-up continues into the early daylight hours. Although it is sometimes not immediately apparent, the market is very well organized. Vendors of specific types of items occupy traditional places in the market. The fruit and vegetable vendors have their traditional area that they occupy, as well as the vendors of pottery, wooden boxes, condiments, medicinal plants, candles, pom and copal (traditional incense), cal (lime for preparing tortillas), grindstones, pigs and chickens, machetes, and other tools. In the central part of the market plaza are comedores (small eateries, which tourists are advised not to eat at).
Among the items sold are textiles, particularly the women's blouses. The manufacture of masks, used by dancers in traditional dances has also made this city famous for woodcarving. Much of what is sold is of good quality, but there are also products in Chichicastenango's many factories for the not-so-discerning foreign
companies.Early in the day, homemade rockets and firecrackers are set off and continue randomly throughout the day. The smell of incense burned at the church of Santo Tomás (on the steps and in the nave) and fireworks mingle together.
Our school organized the outing and there were maybe 25 other people with us. The travel in the two private microbuses (squatty minivan type vehicles you don't see in the states) was a "trip" in itself and makes us really look forward to riding chicken buses all over Central America! We were winding through the mountains on a two lane road, mostly well paved, and passing other cars/trucks/bikes at will. And the passing system here is a bit different than what we might be used to, or shall I say one that we are "comfortable" with. Think of those pretty double yellow lines in two lane highways that are conveniently dotted when someone decided it is safe to pass -- or solid yellow lines advising against it....they may even have some legality attached to them in the states.
Okay, now forget about pretty yellow lines, add lots of turns on mountain roads, little use of the brakes at any point, lots of honking, and one of the teachers pops in a CD and on the radio starts blasting none other than -- Highway to Hell!! I promise I'm not making this up. I actually got out my camera to take short video to document the insane irony. Fortunately, the 80s jam continued for an entire CD which we jammed to for a good portion of the 4 hour trip. How fitting a start!
We arrived safely in Chichi and had about 4 hours to wander, look, smell, and, of course, bargain. It seems to be the way things go. The vendors really are talking/yelling at anyone who passes, but particularly to foreigners. As expected, the experience came with mixed emotions. It is partly invigorating (and fun!) to really bargain and feel very much a part of the centuries old market system, but it is simultaneously disheartening as they lowered their prices again and again.
Still very ignorant of the economy, it is hard to know just what was behind it all. When she lowered the price of a table runner from 700Q to 400Q without our saying anything at all but only by starting to walk away, does it show the level of inflation that comes with our skin or just how much they need the money? Did the few dollars we paid for shirts and a bag cover the production costs? What exactly are "production costs" here anyway? Outside of material costs, how is an individual's labor value determined? Does it depend more on how much money they need at the time of the sale than the countless hours that went into the beautifully hand woven crafts?
So much more to learn...
We were fortunate enough that in the next week, the school also organized a weaving demonstration and testimony from a local women's cooperative. It helped give insight into the artisan culture. More on that later. For now, enjoy the pictures of Chichicastenango...
Thursday, August 03, 2006
I HUFFED and I PUFFED and...
(Don't worry, the volcano story and a few others are still in the works as we sort through some photo storage obstacles...thanks Teesh!)
So last Friday we got home from school at the usual time, around 1:15pm just in time for lunch. We removed the padlock from our bedroom door and pushed. Nothing. We pushed a little harder and gave it a good shake. Nothing. The door would not open. We looked at each other and laughed, knowing that the other door into our room from the courtyard was definitely locked from the inside.
Liz went to get Martha while I tried to see what might be keeping it from opening. I could hear Liz in the kitchen where Martha and Angela were preparing lunch: "Yo tengo uno problema con la puerta." Remember the post about the Terrible Two's?? As is often the case, it was an amuzing (and quick!) conversation.
Luckily, we are REALLY good at charades these days and Liz and Martha soon returned. I stepped aside and Martha, our four foot six inch host mother, stepped up to the plate. Now Martha is adorable and has graciously opened her home to us for these past three weeks....but this was hilarious. She grabbed the little handle and just started shaking away -- head swaying with each shake, jewelry clanking -- she really gave it her all.
Nothing. Door still closed....more laughter.
Off they go again, headed somewhere to get something that would hopefully help us get into our room. I checked out the door just a bit more and it appeared to my Handyman eye that the door had been pulled shut harder than usual and the lock on the door itself was pushing on the doorframe. I just need to push a little harder...yeah, that will do it...
One more good push and, sure enough, the door opened. And with it came the door frame and large chunks of the sheetrock-like wall crumbling to the floor! Uh-oh...
So last Friday we got home from school at the usual time, around 1:15pm just in time for lunch. We removed the padlock from our bedroom door and pushed. Nothing. We pushed a little harder and gave it a good shake. Nothing. The door would not open. We looked at each other and laughed, knowing that the other door into our room from the courtyard was definitely locked from the inside.
Liz went to get Martha while I tried to see what might be keeping it from opening. I could hear Liz in the kitchen where Martha and Angela were preparing lunch: "Yo tengo uno problema con la puerta." Remember the post about the Terrible Two's?? As is often the case, it was an amuzing (and quick!) conversation.
Luckily, we are REALLY good at charades these days and Liz and Martha soon returned. I stepped aside and Martha, our four foot six inch host mother, stepped up to the plate. Now Martha is adorable and has graciously opened her home to us for these past three weeks....but this was hilarious. She grabbed the little handle and just started shaking away -- head swaying with each shake, jewelry clanking -- she really gave it her all.
Nothing. Door still closed....more laughter.
Off they go again, headed somewhere to get something that would hopefully help us get into our room. I checked out the door just a bit more and it appeared to my Handyman eye that the door had been pulled shut harder than usual and the lock on the door itself was pushing on the doorframe. I just need to push a little harder...yeah, that will do it...
One more good push and, sure enough, the door opened. And with it came the door frame and large chunks of the sheetrock-like wall crumbling to the floor! Uh-oh...
Whoops!
A few seconds later Martha and Liz, ignorant of the events that just took place, come leisurely around the corner. I was still standing in the doorway, mouth wide open and stunned that there were actually pieces of the wall around my feet. I felt horrible.
Liz, attempting to console her saddened husband, proceeded to fall on the floor laughing. Martha took a moment to assess the situation before joining in...whew! Angela, hearing all of the commotion, came to see what was going on and, of course, joined in.
I can't tell you how many times I said "lo siento" the rest of the day. But Martha just took it in stride and told us that the next morning she would go talk to the carpenter across the street while we were on our Volcanic adventure (Of course the carpenter lives across the street...but hopefully she didn't feel the need to see the lawyer next door to him.)
It made for a lively conversation at lunch, during which I earned the nickname "super hombre" among others. Angela continues to make fun of me to this day.
When we got back from the Volcano on Saturday afternoon, the door frame and wall had already been repaired. All things considered, minor costs for a great story.
all better!
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Have you ever been lost on a Volcano?
Well, you wouldn´t be alone!
Actually, in the end we weren´t actually lost. But for the last hour of our 4 hour descent, we were absolutely convinced we had taken a wrong turn half way down and were headed in the wrong direction to an unknown town. We have still never used a telephone nor did we really know if we would actually be able to get in touch with the guide company that we´d taken for the trip. (yeah, our guide was somewhere behind us with the last few of our 8 person group.)
Oh, and we tried with relative success to ask a farmer on the mountain if he had seen any gringos pass by earlier. Despite his saying yes (plus lots of other things we might have understood), from the description it sounded like another group on the mountain that day.....feeding the lostness...
It´s now 5:05pm and we just got dropped back off at the school just a bit late (we were supposed to be done at 1pm!).
We´re COMPLETELY EXHAUSTED and pretty dirty. (picture at least a 45 degree incline the entire way, lots of boulder hopping, LOTS of mud on washed out trails...and it rained most of the way down)
We´re headed home to shower (we were told there´s only hot water early in the mornings and late at night...sweet!) and then to meet our fellow moutain climbing friends for dinner.
More on this later...
Actually, in the end we weren´t actually lost. But for the last hour of our 4 hour descent, we were absolutely convinced we had taken a wrong turn half way down and were headed in the wrong direction to an unknown town. We have still never used a telephone nor did we really know if we would actually be able to get in touch with the guide company that we´d taken for the trip. (yeah, our guide was somewhere behind us with the last few of our 8 person group.)
Oh, and we tried with relative success to ask a farmer on the mountain if he had seen any gringos pass by earlier. Despite his saying yes (plus lots of other things we might have understood), from the description it sounded like another group on the mountain that day.....feeding the lostness...
It´s now 5:05pm and we just got dropped back off at the school just a bit late (we were supposed to be done at 1pm!).
We´re COMPLETELY EXHAUSTED and pretty dirty. (picture at least a 45 degree incline the entire way, lots of boulder hopping, LOTS of mud on washed out trails...and it rained most of the way down)
We´re headed home to shower (we were told there´s only hot water early in the mornings and late at night...sweet!) and then to meet our fellow moutain climbing friends for dinner.
More on this later...
Friday, July 28, 2006
"The Terrible Two's"
We met this incredibly interesting young women here in Xela who is an anthropology major at Stanford University; I believe her name was Julia. So, Julia explained to us that children who are developing their language skills often know what they want to say well before they can actually say it. This explains why children who have entered their "terrible two's" tend to act out. They just can't communicate to those around them and they are frustrated. Hmmm.... OK, fast forward 28 years, add one Spanish language immersion, and only two weeks of classes. Hey, wait a second...
This week I changed teachers and started fresh with a new maestra. Her name is Miriam and she would be the ideal character for the reality TV show Nanny 911--Xela. Picture Mary Poppins, got it? OK, now think shorter, stockier, more strict, and with a thick Guatemalan accent. Love her.
Monday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We covered regular verbs, irregular verbs, prepositions, interrogatives, and much more. My head was spinning; I desperately tried to absorb, process, and regurgitate all the information correctly. Needless to say, it was muy dificil. She gave me about two more hours of homework and sent me on my way.
Tuesday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We covered contractions, sentence structure, gender of articles, and much more. At one point, we took a break so that she could go to el baño. To avoid wasting one second of instruction time, Miriam RAN across the courtyard to the bathroom and ran back. The woman was a machine. Once again, I tried to absorb, process, and regurgitate all the information correctly. She gave me about three hours of homework and sent me on my way.
Wednesday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We tried to cover reflexive verbs, adjectives, and vocabulary. Miriam sensed that I was a little overwhelmed and she quickly changed the plan for the day. I was going to work on pronunciation. She asked me to read a few paragraphs to her. At first I did well, but slowly my mind couldn't distinguish between English and Spanish pronunciation and finally I found myself stuck at the word contribuye. It was so difficult to read that I completely stopped at the word. On my first attempt I completely butchered the pronunciation. Miriam giggled and asked me to try again. No luck, butchered again. She slowly read the word to me and I desperately contorted my mouth and tongue to create the correct sequence in Spanish, but with no avail. I had actually lost the ability to speak. And in my regression found myself turning red, holding my breath, clenching my fists, and wanting to cry out. I was trying so hard. I knew what I wanted to say, but just couldn't do it!
Miriam, being the excellent teacher that she is, asked me if I wanted to take a walk. Wow! I must have really looked frustrated to compel Miriam to waste any class time. She went to the office grabbed a book and we walked to the park nearby. When we reached the park, Miriam pulled out the book for me to use. At first, I thought she may have been kidding, but when I saw her face, I knew this was no joke. The book was very small and the pages were made of thick corrugated cardboard. The words were written in brilliant colors and the letters must have been at least a 20 point font. Each page had one letter of the alphabet and four words to demonstrate the sound of that particular letter. It was one step away from being one of those waterproof books that babies can bring in the bath with them. I spent the next hour, at Miriam's insistence, practicing the pronunciation of the letters of the alphabet. As I read the letters aloud, I couldn't help but wonder what the other people in the park were thinking. The thought was so amusing that I wanted to laugh so badly, but didn't for fear of upsetting my no-nonsense teacher. There I was, 30 years old, reading the alphabet in the middle of a public park in Xela. I have had many humbling experiences during our travels, but this was absolutely hilarious.
I hope I take away a very important lesson from Julia and my experience with learning a new language. When Robert and I do become parents some day, I hope we recognize that there will be many times that our children will be just as frustrated trying to communicate with us as we are with them. I would love to hear more opinions from the many new and experienced parents that read our blog.
Best,
Humbled in Guatemala
This week I changed teachers and started fresh with a new maestra. Her name is Miriam and she would be the ideal character for the reality TV show Nanny 911--Xela. Picture Mary Poppins, got it? OK, now think shorter, stockier, more strict, and with a thick Guatemalan accent. Love her.
Monday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We covered regular verbs, irregular verbs, prepositions, interrogatives, and much more. My head was spinning; I desperately tried to absorb, process, and regurgitate all the information correctly. Needless to say, it was muy dificil. She gave me about two more hours of homework and sent me on my way.
Tuesday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We covered contractions, sentence structure, gender of articles, and much more. At one point, we took a break so that she could go to el baño. To avoid wasting one second of instruction time, Miriam RAN across the courtyard to the bathroom and ran back. The woman was a machine. Once again, I tried to absorb, process, and regurgitate all the information correctly. She gave me about three hours of homework and sent me on my way.
Wednesday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We tried to cover reflexive verbs, adjectives, and vocabulary. Miriam sensed that I was a little overwhelmed and she quickly changed the plan for the day. I was going to work on pronunciation. She asked me to read a few paragraphs to her. At first I did well, but slowly my mind couldn't distinguish between English and Spanish pronunciation and finally I found myself stuck at the word contribuye. It was so difficult to read that I completely stopped at the word. On my first attempt I completely butchered the pronunciation. Miriam giggled and asked me to try again. No luck, butchered again. She slowly read the word to me and I desperately contorted my mouth and tongue to create the correct sequence in Spanish, but with no avail. I had actually lost the ability to speak. And in my regression found myself turning red, holding my breath, clenching my fists, and wanting to cry out. I was trying so hard. I knew what I wanted to say, but just couldn't do it!
Miriam, being the excellent teacher that she is, asked me if I wanted to take a walk. Wow! I must have really looked frustrated to compel Miriam to waste any class time. She went to the office grabbed a book and we walked to the park nearby. When we reached the park, Miriam pulled out the book for me to use. At first, I thought she may have been kidding, but when I saw her face, I knew this was no joke. The book was very small and the pages were made of thick corrugated cardboard. The words were written in brilliant colors and the letters must have been at least a 20 point font. Each page had one letter of the alphabet and four words to demonstrate the sound of that particular letter. It was one step away from being one of those waterproof books that babies can bring in the bath with them. I spent the next hour, at Miriam's insistence, practicing the pronunciation of the letters of the alphabet. As I read the letters aloud, I couldn't help but wonder what the other people in the park were thinking. The thought was so amusing that I wanted to laugh so badly, but didn't for fear of upsetting my no-nonsense teacher. There I was, 30 years old, reading the alphabet in the middle of a public park in Xela. I have had many humbling experiences during our travels, but this was absolutely hilarious.
I hope I take away a very important lesson from Julia and my experience with learning a new language. When Robert and I do become parents some day, I hope we recognize that there will be many times that our children will be just as frustrated trying to communicate with us as we are with them. I would love to hear more opinions from the many new and experienced parents that read our blog.
Best,
Humbled in Guatemala
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Feliz Neuva Año!!
Quetzeltanango, Guatemala, the city we now call home, is located in the Western Highlands of Guatemala, almost four hours due east of the capital, Guatemala City. Primarily known by its Mayan name of Xela (shay-la), the city and highlands area are home to a significant Mayan population -- well over 50%. We're slowly learning bits and pieces of the rich history of the city, region and country. It's quite fascinating really. Particularly the part about the 36 year civil war that ended in 1996, the history of agriculture exports, all seeming to be under the strong "influence" of US foreign policy inthe area. We saw at least a dozen books in a book store yesterday about the CIA's presence in Guatemala alone...there are lots of stories of US backing of various militia and guerilla groups. Okay, so we have a lot to learn and it's happening slowly but surely...little bits here and there from our teachers or from the weekly "conferencias" (lectures). We will continue to share...But back to the New Year!!
On Monday, July 17 the Mayan New Year began. Our school celebrated the occasion with a traditional Mayan ceremony, complete with decorations around the school. Classes ended early in the morning, making time for the 2 hour ceremony that was performed by four Mayan priests. It was a fascinating experience. Greta, the student coordinator at our school (she's from somewhere in the states), translated the majority of the ceremony.
Mayan years are based around a calendar of 260 days, which are divided into 13 day segments that each represent one of 20 dieties (here are the names thanks to wikipedia). We all gathered around a makeshift fire ring out in a garden area behind the school. We took lots of pictures throughout to at least capture images if we can't remember all of the ceremonial aspects! It started with the priests slowly building the fire with various (flamable) objects, each with a special significance: sugar, flowers, multiple colored candles (lots of candles), charcoal, chocolate, candies, tobacco, and a few other things.
Once the fire was lit, the ceremony celebrated each of the 20 dieties with a special chant followed by offerings (candles tossed into the flames) by those in attendance. As you will see from the pictures, the pyro in me came out and I started to become a bit mezmorized by the fire. It was a very peaceful ceremony -- giving thanks to the air, earth, wind and water and all that they allow in our lives. Sure, it's quite different than what we were used to on Sunday mornings at Government Street Presbyterian or St. Patrick's (it was in a different language and around a big fire with "offerings"), but in many ways it felt familiar as there were common themes to be celebrated.
Click here for the entire set of pictures from the ceremony. Enjoy!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
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