6/21/10: Happy Solstice

Tikal, Guatemala. Approx. 5:30 this morning.

6/20/10: Happy Father's Day!

I'd just like to take a minute to say Happy (American) Father's Day to my wonderful dad and grandpas!

I feel so lucky to have all three of you in my life, and can't wait to share stories in person just a few short weeks from now.

Much love.

6/14/10: San Cristóbal de las Casas

Sorry for the delay in posting. I've been traveling in Chiapas and Guatemala for the last week, mostly avoiding the internet.

I'll try to catch up from the slightly more comfortable overnight bus ride from Zipolite to San Cristóbal de las Casas, a medium sized city in the mountains of Chiapas. I rolled off the bus at 8am (dramamine didn't work, plastic bags did) and shared a taxi with three girls I met at the bus station. The four of us (three Americans and a Brit) settled in at our hostel and signed up for a horseback tour to a nearby village the following day.

The "village" ended up having about 70,000 inhabitants. Fortunately, our guide was thoughtful and took us through forest and farmland on the way there so it still felt nice and quaint.

In any case, the town´s church held one of the more interesting scenes I've witnessed. The interior of the church was being renovated for a big festival coming up, so everything was crammed into the rear of the building. This meant the room was packed. Like, first 15 feet of a rock concert packed, with everyone working their way slowly to their destination, checking behind their shoulders for lost friends and children. The air was thick with smoke from bowls of incense and hundreds of candles stuck to every available surface. A dozen or so men played a very rhythmic, almost monotonous melody on accordians and homemade wooden instruments, including guitars, harps, and something that looked kind of dulcimer-ish. Women sat on the ground lighting rows of candles and securing them to the floor with melted wax. Men prayed loudly in front of various icons, and quite a few people were downing glass after glass of beer and coca cola.

The next day we visited a Mayan medicine museum, pharmacy, and education center. The beer and coca cola thing made a lot more sense after we walked through the exhibits. Apparently burping helps expel evil spirits. Good to know.

6/12/19: lazy gets lazier...

I'm writing now from Zipolite, a beach town an hour or so down the road from Puerto Escondido. I've been here for the past few days, enjoying the empty beach after staying in a full, lively hostel in Puerto Escondido.

The last few nights could not have been more different from the P.E. hostel. I'm staying at Shambhala, which is kind of like a hippie treehouse. $6 for a bed with a mosquito net in the dorm, really more like a porch. That's been really lovely, actually, since no one else is staying in the dorm and I can hear the ocean loud and clear from my bed. Last night was a little concerning, though -- a big storm rolled through, and suddenly the treehouse thing seemed a lot less romantic. Fortunately, the building's still standing, and I'm still in one piece.

I took another boat tour yesterday, after a bit of a delay for the Mexico - South Africa game. Snorkeling was on the agenda this time. I've only been snorkeling once before, on a 6th grade field trip in the San Juans. I remember not being impressed. It was cold, it was dark, gross slimy plants kept touching me. Mostly it was cold. Not so in Mexico! The water is warm and clear! The fish have colors! Whole different ball game. I saw a decapitated shark's head, a bunch of little neon guys, a swordfish, some angelfish, and I even held a puffer fish for a few seconds before he squirmed away.

I think I'm ready to be around people again now, so I'm taking the nght bus to San Cristobal de las Casas tonight. It's supposed to be an easier trip than the Oaxaca - Puerto Escondido route, but I'm still a little nervous. I'm coming prepared this time, though -- dramamine, plastic bags, and crackers are on hand. Wish me luck.

6/7/10: Oh. Hello, Ocean.

I wrote out a long post about my horrific overnight bus ride from Oaxaca to Puerto Escondido on Saturday night, but I've decided to spare you the gory details. I will say this: if you decided to make that trip yourself, I strongly recommend serious anti-nausea meds and/or a leakproof disposable container. I had neither.

Fortunately, there's not much that can't be fixed by swimming in the warm ocean. I slept off that nightmare of a trip in a hammock, then wandered down to the beach to check it out before heading into town to pick up a few things at the supermarket. I never did make it into town yesterday afternoon. I swam, I sat, I read. That's it. It was perfect.

This morning I got up early to look for dolphins and sea turtles with a group of French girls. (Yes, mom, I wore a hat). I tried to take photos of dolphins playing all around our boat, but didn't come up with anything particularly impressive. I'll post a pretty turtle for your viewing pleasure, assuming I ever figure out how to make this computer work.

Photos! Photos!



I'm not sure how long I'll linger here in Puerto Escondido before moving south down the coast. Right now, I'm a little apprehensive about another long bus ride, but I'm told that the Oaxaca - Puerto Escondido trips is as bad as it gets. That's a pretty low bar, though, and definitely below tolerable, as far as I'm concerned. We'll see.

6/5/10: Stumbling with Spanish

I just wrapped up two weeks of Spanish class and am slowly feeling more comfortable using my limited vocabulary. I've definitely lowered my expectations of fluency, but I'm pleased with my ability to have fairly complex one-on-one conversations with Oaxaqueños. I even did a decent job explaining the electoral college in Spanish the other day. (Response: silence. Then, "no es muy democrático, ¿no?")

I've been spending one hour a day in an intercambio with a young Oaxacan woman, speaking English for half an hour and Spanish for the second half. She is studying to become an English teacher here in Oaxaca, which has presented me with a perfect opportunity to learn more about the teachers' union and public education here in Oaxaca. I'm fascinated, and so glad that my Spanish is decent enough to dig a little deeper into local issues.

In general, I do fine carrying on one-on-one conversations, but I'd really like to be able to understand exchanges between two native speakers (i.e. eavesdrop). Unfortunately, I'm not confident that will happen on this trip.

I do appreciate the solid foundation I got from my high school Spanish teacher, though. Her voice has been running through my head pretty regularly over the last couple of weeks, and I find that I don't have problems with many of the grammatical concepts that some of the other students struggle with. Sure, my vocabulary is extremely limited and I'm slow to speak, but I can conjugate verbs with no major problems. Fortunately, Spanish speakers aren't hard to find in the States, and I'm sure I can find opportunities to practice once I come home.

Off to catch the night bus to Puerto Escondido now...

6/5/10: Food!!!

I've had exactly two less than great meals here, at the two most tourist-oriented restaurants I've been to. Other than that, the food's been great. Cheap, too.

Well, except for a couple of restaurants JK and MR recommended. Fortunately, those have been some of the best meals I've ever had, and still cheap for the quality.

MR recommended Casa Oaxaca. Really lovely experience, and if I could get this computer to work I would post photos of C.O. meal #1, Tim Palmer style. Update! Photo! Anyway, it was well worth it and such a comfortable place to spend a long, leisurely meal. I spent $25 on that meal, about 4 to 5 times what I normally spend on dinner, and worth every peso.

But wait! This afternoon I passed Casa Oaxaca - El Restaurante. Not to be confused with Casa Oaxaca hotel with adjoining restaurant where I had C.O. meal #1! Obviously I had to try them both. C.O. meal #2 was even better than #1. Gracias MR, JK, DN for recommendations, and GF for reminding me to try the fish.

I took a cooking class the other day with a few other American students. We showed up at our instructor's house hoping to pick up just one dish we could recreate at home. That dream went out the window pretty quickly once we started cleaning, toasting, and grinding all the chilis, nuts, chocolate, spices, etc. by hand for our mole negro. The four of us sweat through an hour of two of prep, too tired to make our own tortillas. No problem, though -- we just took a quick walk down the road to pick up some fresh ones from the tortillería down the street (1kg for $.50). They were still hot enough to burn my sensitive gringa finngertips when we sat down to eat twenty minutes later.

The mole was incredible. Much better than any of the mole I had tasted before, since apparently most restaurants use a mix instead of going through the hassle of making it all from scratch. I did get the recipe, but sorry friends -- I won't be making any for you unless you can gather up a few willing prep cooks to help hunt down the ingredients and grind them all up. I'll supervise.

6/1/10: Política y el Bloqueo

My Spanish conversation class veers toward politics somewhat regularly, which can be a bit touchy. The other people in my class are a Nebraska school teacher from a very small town, and a Swiss soldier who definitely leans right. Our instructor pretty much keeps his politics to himself, but is clearly annoyed by the fact that his 15 minute commute can turn into a two hour journey thanks to the latest bloqueo.

Guys. It is completely legal to block roads/entrance into important buildings whenever and wherever a group can round up enough people to do so. Right now, there are hundreds of teachers camped out in the Zócalo, the main square and tourist center in Oaxaca. They're sleeping under tents and tarps, on inflatable mattresses and on cardboard. No one knows exactly how long they'll be there; it all depends on how quickly they can come to an agreement on salaries, etc. This occupation isn't raising any eyebrows in Oaxaca, though. It's an annual occurrence, and generally peaceful.

That's not to say that political violence is unheard of, though. Our instructor actually laughed when the Nebraskan and I mentioned Kent State. Apparently four fatalities is not particularly impressive to a Oaxaqueño.

(Not my photo, btw. Pulled it off the internets... think it's from 2009.)