I have been here before, yet when I arrived at the boat dock to head off to Caye Caulker, an island 35 minutes away from Belize City, I did not recognize anything. Previously, it had been a rough and tumble dock with this small window to buy tickets to ride the boat. The times were scratched on a chalkboard and you weren't sure if this timetable was followed anymore or it was some relic of how it used it work when the boat service to the island first was conceived. Now, it is a mini mall: fresh tiled floor, kiosks, a circular booth selling tickets- with a computer system- instead of hand written tickets, ac pumping making any polar bear jealous, and various other outer-worldly pleasures. It was strange and made Belize more morass for me than ever before. The change between Belize and Guatemala is stark. One thing it is English speaking, and culturally 15 football fields apart. For the past month, tortillas reigned king, now we are drowned with rum punch. I will self confess, even though I had been to Belize, that is about as much as I knew. I had a similar experience with India, but I had some general knowledge and was up to date on the current events regarding India, but with Belize, I am not sure Belize has been in any current events for the past 5 years: Hurricane brought it on the map as far as I know. Sometimes, I know I can be ignoramus, but this area interests me, yet this nation is hardly mentioned. My lack of knowledge disturbs me sometimes so I investigated. I now present you a little get to know so you won't be bewildered or left in the dark. I feel someone has to know about Belize. Without completely putting you to sleep here are some facts, serious and funny about this enigma of a country in Central America:
1) Belize used to be called British Honduras until its independence in 1973 when it changed to its current name.
2) Guatemala refuses to recognize the sovereignty and Britain is forced to station troops on the border to make sure nothing happens. After doing the land crossing between the two countries, there is no way there could be any semblance of troop movement. The road, if it can be classified as that, is to be polite, under construction. It makes Route 95 in Washington DC, on a Friday, seem quick. There is a massive jungle that, most of the time, laughs at the sun in its futile attempt to break through. Belize would have trouble rallying around the musical rhetoric of Reggae or, Bob Marley, which in turn would make it hard for Guatemala to take over since I am not sure people from Belize would even realize.
3) Go Slow is the unofficial motto. Getting a better picture?
4) Off of the Belize coast is the second largest barrier reef. Incredible from personal experience, but it is in danger from mass tourism.
5) The motto of the country is: "Sub Umbra Florero" Under the shade I flourish. Not the greatest motto when I associate fungus to things that flourish in the shade, but appropriate in this climate, when the slightest movement provokes sweat not unlike playing game seven in a basketball championship.
6) The prime minister is Dean Barrow, recently under fire for marrying his girlfriend in the USA instead of in Belize. However, as a personal accolade, he was the first black prime minister of the nation when he took office in February.
7) Skype, in all its glory, is banned here in Belize. The governmental phone company BTL has come up with a new product- money making scheme to screw over nationals and internationals alike - which is like skype except: it is not free and surprise surprise, no one else in the world has this program on their computer making its value completely neglient. Skype is blocked and one has to use some back door, smokey room program that I am pretty sure the Chinese employ to get internet. The only thing that is guaranteed is that your computer will get something, could be the access to Skype or some virus. But remember Go Slow.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Looking for some answers
For you all this is my shameless plug blog. I need some help and I would appreciate the help. When you have too much time, El Remate will do that for you, you come up with crazy ideas. Mine is to sell my photos of travel. I have started an awesome new website solely devoted to my pictures: 5rupeesplease.blogspot.com. Have a look and help me out.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
So quiet you can even hear a mouse
We have just completed all of our required sights in Guatemala - we went to Tikal this morning - and now it is just three more days of relaxing in the town of El Remate about 25 Kms outside of Tikal and 25 kms outside of the town Flores. Flores, for those of you geographically challenged is in the Peten Region of Guatemala. It has been a full circle of weather systems as here, jackets and scarfs are replaced by sombreros and no shirts- We went to a restaurant where the entire male family who belonged to the restaurant, three year olds to a 50 year old, were shirtless, so I decided if it is in fashion, then go for it. What is strange is that we expected Flores to be like any town that is basically known for getting to Tikal: McDonalds, shops that only cater to tourists, hawkers and mounting frustration to leave tourists. In one case, even before getting to Flores, Sam had a go at some 20 year olds, because for the entire trip from Coban to Flores they would not stop complaining. After the fifth hour, Sam with steam coming from her ears turns around and says...well if you hate it so much then go home. The heat really makes your nerves fray sometimes. In any case back to Flores, we expected to be packed with tourists, yet we arrived to a city - Flores is actually an island while the main land is Santa Elena - that was completely void of tourists and in most cases paved streets. It slowly was turning into an old western ghost town, I kept turning to Sam telling her we should really get out of dodge. Yet , the more we looked at it, the more we liked it. The town is not overbearing and lacks the over the top tourist feel. Even the muddy causeways in between shops added to the down to earth feel- yes again the pun. As we walked, we got more comfortable, but the persistent question was ¨where is everyone?¨The answer: not here, nor will be. Traveling through Cambodia and India, we saw first hand the devasting effects of the economic crisis and in India´s case from the bombing. A lot of the times, it seemed if Sam and I were alone in towns in India, but it never has felt like this, Agra was filled with people eager to see the Taj. Tikal is the mother of all Mayan Ruins and Flores is the point of travel, but last night as we walked around, I saw restaurants with many tables empty and in some cases, non existent clientele. Restaurants that looked like they could host a banquet and could have once held jovial convival affairs, now limited to one person enjoying a coffee. A part of the problem is a result of the crisis, but the Swine Flu has really hit this place hard. Prensa Libre in May crunched numbers and there has been a dip in international and national travel: http://www.prensalibre.com/pl/2009/marzo/10/300526.html and here http://www.prensalibre.com/pl/2009/mayo/13/313685.html. What it says for those who don´t speak Spanish that people are canceling trips throughout the region; people destined for Mexico and Guatemala cancel the entire trip instead of going to Guatemala and just byspassing Mexico, even though there have been limited cases here and the US would be the most dangerous place to go. At our Spanish school in Xela, Ulew Tinimit, the amount of students is at an all time low. Sam and I were the only two for three weeks. Groups were cancelling without explanation or warning.
It is sad, last night as I walked home, I passed Tucan restuarant in Flores, a lonely tv shown and no one was in the place. I stopped to bask in the glow of the tv when an eldery woman, the patron, said come in please. I politelty declined giving some terrible excuse and said I was only looking at the tv, she said she knew and said come in anyway. I stared hard at her and had to leave for fear of throwing my wallet to her and then performing a collective sob induced hug for hours.
It is sad, last night as I walked home, I passed Tucan restuarant in Flores, a lonely tv shown and no one was in the place. I stopped to bask in the glow of the tv when an eldery woman, the patron, said come in please. I politelty declined giving some terrible excuse and said I was only looking at the tv, she said she knew and said come in anyway. I stared hard at her and had to leave for fear of throwing my wallet to her and then performing a collective sob induced hug for hours.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Day 2
As a little continuation of Day 1, we learned that Walter and his Dad loved to backpack, which to the rest of the 4 of us seemed a bit odd as according to Jonas, "they didn`t even have backpacks on this trip, just their shoulder bags." We all piled into the town`s warehouse, or storage room which was a concrete floor with a bare cold floor. We all hit the floor and fell asleep.
Day 2:
3:30 am. While we stayed in this storage room, the night turned cold, but at least we would be free from the rain if it did fall. Little did I know, that from eight bodies in this room, the room would turn into a veritable green house. I was awoken by a small drip that splashed on my cheek, then sleeping bag then back to my face. Then all of sudden the dripping spread to other areas of the room. The whole place was one room of condensation. Sam and I moved, then moved again and the water followed us. I was pretty surprised that Stefan didn`t demand that our guide should have provided scuba gear, but he remained motionless with his family on the other side.
4:00 am- Dripping noises now were drowned out (yes the pun) by four of the following things:
1) Roosters having a Banjo-like competition to outdo each other. Roosters outnumbered people in this town 4-1
2) A dog that would not stop barking
3) The van that parked next to our room and beeped and beeped and beeped to awake people going to Xela
4) The rooster crowing right next to our room as if to make fun of us.
I got up, tired of swimming inside and watched the sunrise.
5:30 am Stefan busts into the room after watching the sunrise and demands coffee and tea even though we weren't scheduled to GET UP until 6 . The guide, bewildered, complies and we've already had the day`s first awkward silence even before the sun has a chance to warm the city, which would not take long. I feel young but my legs are stiff and cramped and my ankle is sore, so I continue to do stretches that I have been doing since 4 am.
7:15am We have a huge day of hiking. The first part is through the forest and downhill, then as the guide says Subimos, Subimos, Subimos. (Translation, only tears can get you through this day as we climbed upward for four hours.) I am overjoyed by this prospect and to celebrate I sprain the same ankle again 20 minutes into the trip.
9 am. We make it down to the river after descending some rocks and going through wild coffee fields within the forest. This concluded the easy part and after a 15 minute break we scale a mountain side.
9:45 am At a rest point after moving up a mountain side, Stefan and his merry family, after we have all had a chance to rest, throws the sleeping bag at our guide and tells him that it is his problem and that "I don`t need this at all, I am going to leave it here, you carry it." To score at home, they have not carried any of the food, I am carrying their sleeping mat, the guide is carrying their other sleeping bag and mat and according to Walter they love to backpack. The guide is speechless as are we, but before the guide saddles more weight, Walter steps in a starts to carry the bag, to which Stefan whips around and chastises Walter for doing such an awful thing and demands that the guide carry the bag. I step in and just grab the bag and I give my sleeping mat to Sam. The hiking lines were drawn and the family, completely void of anything, sped up ahead while the rest of us wobbled upwards. For the next two hours we climbed and climbed.
2 pm- 8pm: We make it to Santa Clara, our final spot for the night and collapse in the house. We divide into sane and insane/oblivious rooming areas and begin to unpack. This house has a sauna which is quite typical for the area. A small clay hut, people boil water inside and it becomes extremely hot. The family decides to partake in this ritual. Sam and I begin to play cards, with my back to the hut, but Sam in full sight. The family rumbles out of their room in just towels and I remark that they are probably that family that is "really close." Ten minutes later, Mila emerges from hut, naked, and pours cold water on herself, basically disrespecting all Guatemalan customs of keeping covered up. Guatemala is very strict on showing skin like India. Women can wear shorts, but the more prudent thing is to be covered. Two minutes after Mila has gone, the men plow out, and within plain sight of about everyone, just begin to wash themselves, having a giggling fest and laughing. Sam, holding back the vomit in her mouth is giving me the run down of what is going on. I asked her if she now felt closer them to which she replied, `couldn`t feel farther away.' We all ate dinner with each other, one side ignoring the other, and to answer your question I slept fine with my extra mat, and Sam as well with her extra sleeping bag as padding. Not sure how the family slept with two mats and two sleeping bags, but as I said, they were just that type of family.
Day 3:
5 am: Enjoy an incredible sunrise over Lago de Atitlan and hike to another view point to eat breakfast. All things considered, we have moved closer to Jonas and Helena and will spend the next four days with them in San Pedro. Trying not to speed away from the family, we take the slow approach down the hill. About 300 meters from the bottom, even after carefully repeating to myself take it slow, I look up and magically a hole with some leaves covering it moves into my path. This was the most grandiose fall of the trip. I fell forward, then crumbled and swore. Ankle again, but this time it hurt. I limped the rest of the way down, but luckily by having ankle tendons like a hammock, the pain subsided.
Day 2:
3:30 am. While we stayed in this storage room, the night turned cold, but at least we would be free from the rain if it did fall. Little did I know, that from eight bodies in this room, the room would turn into a veritable green house. I was awoken by a small drip that splashed on my cheek, then sleeping bag then back to my face. Then all of sudden the dripping spread to other areas of the room. The whole place was one room of condensation. Sam and I moved, then moved again and the water followed us. I was pretty surprised that Stefan didn`t demand that our guide should have provided scuba gear, but he remained motionless with his family on the other side.
4:00 am- Dripping noises now were drowned out (yes the pun) by four of the following things:
1) Roosters having a Banjo-like competition to outdo each other. Roosters outnumbered people in this town 4-1
2) A dog that would not stop barking
3) The van that parked next to our room and beeped and beeped and beeped to awake people going to Xela
4) The rooster crowing right next to our room as if to make fun of us.
I got up, tired of swimming inside and watched the sunrise.
5:30 am Stefan busts into the room after watching the sunrise and demands coffee and tea even though we weren't scheduled to GET UP until 6 . The guide, bewildered, complies and we've already had the day`s first awkward silence even before the sun has a chance to warm the city, which would not take long. I feel young but my legs are stiff and cramped and my ankle is sore, so I continue to do stretches that I have been doing since 4 am.
7:15am We have a huge day of hiking. The first part is through the forest and downhill, then as the guide says Subimos, Subimos, Subimos. (Translation, only tears can get you through this day as we climbed upward for four hours.) I am overjoyed by this prospect and to celebrate I sprain the same ankle again 20 minutes into the trip.
9 am. We make it down to the river after descending some rocks and going through wild coffee fields within the forest. This concluded the easy part and after a 15 minute break we scale a mountain side.
9:45 am At a rest point after moving up a mountain side, Stefan and his merry family, after we have all had a chance to rest, throws the sleeping bag at our guide and tells him that it is his problem and that "I don`t need this at all, I am going to leave it here, you carry it." To score at home, they have not carried any of the food, I am carrying their sleeping mat, the guide is carrying their other sleeping bag and mat and according to Walter they love to backpack. The guide is speechless as are we, but before the guide saddles more weight, Walter steps in a starts to carry the bag, to which Stefan whips around and chastises Walter for doing such an awful thing and demands that the guide carry the bag. I step in and just grab the bag and I give my sleeping mat to Sam. The hiking lines were drawn and the family, completely void of anything, sped up ahead while the rest of us wobbled upwards. For the next two hours we climbed and climbed.
2 pm- 8pm: We make it to Santa Clara, our final spot for the night and collapse in the house. We divide into sane and insane/oblivious rooming areas and begin to unpack. This house has a sauna which is quite typical for the area. A small clay hut, people boil water inside and it becomes extremely hot. The family decides to partake in this ritual. Sam and I begin to play cards, with my back to the hut, but Sam in full sight. The family rumbles out of their room in just towels and I remark that they are probably that family that is "really close." Ten minutes later, Mila emerges from hut, naked, and pours cold water on herself, basically disrespecting all Guatemalan customs of keeping covered up. Guatemala is very strict on showing skin like India. Women can wear shorts, but the more prudent thing is to be covered. Two minutes after Mila has gone, the men plow out, and within plain sight of about everyone, just begin to wash themselves, having a giggling fest and laughing. Sam, holding back the vomit in her mouth is giving me the run down of what is going on. I asked her if she now felt closer them to which she replied, `couldn`t feel farther away.' We all ate dinner with each other, one side ignoring the other, and to answer your question I slept fine with my extra mat, and Sam as well with her extra sleeping bag as padding. Not sure how the family slept with two mats and two sleeping bags, but as I said, they were just that type of family.
Day 3:
5 am: Enjoy an incredible sunrise over Lago de Atitlan and hike to another view point to eat breakfast. All things considered, we have moved closer to Jonas and Helena and will spend the next four days with them in San Pedro. Trying not to speed away from the family, we take the slow approach down the hill. About 300 meters from the bottom, even after carefully repeating to myself take it slow, I look up and magically a hole with some leaves covering it moves into my path. This was the most grandiose fall of the trip. I fell forward, then crumbled and swore. Ankle again, but this time it hurt. I limped the rest of the way down, but luckily by having ankle tendons like a hammock, the pain subsided.
Blast from the Past
Before getting to Day 2 here is an old email about my trip in China, a linguistic adventure
Matt and I last night went out to dinner just him and I. Jed went on a date with Jen since he hadnt seen her the whole day. We decided to stick close to our hostel but try and to go to an authentic place for dinner. We had an enormous lunch so the theme for the night was "light." We tried one restaurant but didnt like the menu. We then moved to this other restaurant that had an outdoor area with the Olympics on a big screen tv. By the way, everyone is watching the games. In Shangri-la, at night, all the sounds were the synchronized sounds of the tvs on the same olympic event. In any case, in this huge outdoor area, it was us and the wait staff. They brought us a menu. To fully appreciate what happened next, you must understand Matt and my combined chinese linguistic repertoire consists of:
Bathroom?
a tofu dish
waiter
No MSG please
Thank you
dumplings
I dont want that
So scoring at home, we know two dishes. This proved to be problematic as the menu was in chinese, and they did not have our two dishes that we knew how to say in Chinese. Once this was established, the head chef (an older lady) began explaining things on the menu. She talked like we understood and Matt and I kept putting our hands up as we had no clue what she was detailing. We tried telling her that we wanted her to choose, but this lead to another barrage of explanations by the women. At this point, Matt and I just kept laughing and so did the wait staff. (the older woman was not amused.) I had a great idea to try and draw pictures. So Matt tried to draw a tomato, onion and a pig. Matt has many talents in a lot of areas, art is not one of them. This only confused the lot of waiters now interested in this two crazy foreigners. Finally this sheepish waitress spoke up and said rice. We immediately treated her like she was Shakespeare. Now we had battle going on of who spoke less of the other person's native language. We established that she knew:
Rice
Eggs
some conglomeration of lettuce and potato.
The linguistic royal rumble ensued and to say the least, things were not progressing smoothly. The idea popped into my head to go to the kitchen to have them show us the food. This turned out to be the wrong idea as seeing a kitchen in China does not add to your hunger, more like make you want to high tail it out of there. We were shown things that I am not sure if it walked, got planted, or was put here by aliens. In any case, we ended up wanting rice with eggs. We got rice, fried eggs and some fried potatoes. You must remember that this province is the culinary capital of china and Matt and I were plowing through starch with not a nutritional or tasty spice in sight. We decided that like the potato, we were fried and left. So we went to a tea house. Chengdu is known for its tea houses. Men and women come to these establishments, from the outside they look like restaurants, but all they serve is tea. Mostly people come and pass the time here drinking tea and playing a variety of card games or a game similar to dominos.
We sat down in a tea house and attempted to get beer. Yes, Matt and I went to a tea house for beer. I did not say that it is all cultural and linguistic problems. There are some boneheadedness by us as well. We got blank looks and one waitress handed us a chinese menu. We have had the same look of total inability to understand and no joke her reaction was " ohhhhhhhhh, c'mon" I added the c'mon for effect, but this generally describes how disgusted, frustrated, and the hilarious disdain she had for our lack of chinese. We got tea finally and sat and played cards.
Matt and I last night went out to dinner just him and I. Jed went on a date with Jen since he hadnt seen her the whole day. We decided to stick close to our hostel but try and to go to an authentic place for dinner. We had an enormous lunch so the theme for the night was "light." We tried one restaurant but didnt like the menu. We then moved to this other restaurant that had an outdoor area with the Olympics on a big screen tv. By the way, everyone is watching the games. In Shangri-la, at night, all the sounds were the synchronized sounds of the tvs on the same olympic event. In any case, in this huge outdoor area, it was us and the wait staff. They brought us a menu. To fully appreciate what happened next, you must understand Matt and my combined chinese linguistic repertoire consists of:
Bathroom?
a tofu dish
waiter
No MSG please
Thank you
dumplings
I dont want that
So scoring at home, we know two dishes. This proved to be problematic as the menu was in chinese, and they did not have our two dishes that we knew how to say in Chinese. Once this was established, the head chef (an older lady) began explaining things on the menu. She talked like we understood and Matt and I kept putting our hands up as we had no clue what she was detailing. We tried telling her that we wanted her to choose, but this lead to another barrage of explanations by the women. At this point, Matt and I just kept laughing and so did the wait staff. (the older woman was not amused.) I had a great idea to try and draw pictures. So Matt tried to draw a tomato, onion and a pig. Matt has many talents in a lot of areas, art is not one of them. This only confused the lot of waiters now interested in this two crazy foreigners. Finally this sheepish waitress spoke up and said rice. We immediately treated her like she was Shakespeare. Now we had battle going on of who spoke less of the other person's native language. We established that she knew:
Rice
Eggs
some conglomeration of lettuce and potato.
The linguistic royal rumble ensued and to say the least, things were not progressing smoothly. The idea popped into my head to go to the kitchen to have them show us the food. This turned out to be the wrong idea as seeing a kitchen in China does not add to your hunger, more like make you want to high tail it out of there. We were shown things that I am not sure if it walked, got planted, or was put here by aliens. In any case, we ended up wanting rice with eggs. We got rice, fried eggs and some fried potatoes. You must remember that this province is the culinary capital of china and Matt and I were plowing through starch with not a nutritional or tasty spice in sight. We decided that like the potato, we were fried and left. So we went to a tea house. Chengdu is known for its tea houses. Men and women come to these establishments, from the outside they look like restaurants, but all they serve is tea. Mostly people come and pass the time here drinking tea and playing a variety of card games or a game similar to dominos.
We sat down in a tea house and attempted to get beer. Yes, Matt and I went to a tea house for beer. I did not say that it is all cultural and linguistic problems. There are some boneheadedness by us as well. We got blank looks and one waitress handed us a chinese menu. We have had the same look of total inability to understand and no joke her reaction was " ohhhhhhhhh, c'mon" I added the c'mon for effect, but this generally describes how disgusted, frustrated, and the hilarious disdain she had for our lack of chinese. We got tea finally and sat and played cards.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Hitting the trail part one
We made it after three grueling days of hiking. Since we have been in Xela, Sam has wanted to hike and do some adventure tourism. We climbed the active volcano outside of Antigua, we climbed hills around Xela, but since day one, Sam has had her eyes set on this trek from Xela to Lago de Atitlan. Night and day, day and night, outside of the Spanish that we spoke to each other Sam couldn`t talk about anything different. Lago de Atitlan is a beautiful lake that is surrounded by volcanoes, mountains and country side and it was on our schedule of places to visit after our month in Xela. Instead of taking the two hour car ride to one of the various towns on the lake, we decided to walk. The program was simple, and on paper, looked relatively harmless. Our tour company, Adrenalina, provided sleeping bags, sleeping mats, transport of our stuff to our final destination (San Pedro, or hippy town) and a cold hard house floor to stay in at the various stops along the trip- most of the time, you would camp outside, but since it is the rainy season, you stay with designated families. All you needed was a sturdy back (first area of concern for me) and some serious grit and determination. Always on paper and within your mind, these treks seem easy to accomplish and would be a breeze to complete. However there are a lot of mitigating factors which we did not envision: difficulty of the trail, the largest a·$hole ever created who was in our group, and of course, your own personal fitness. Looking at myself, I felt ready even though our entire active schedule in Xela could be summed up to one time I had to jog home to get a camera and our relatively simple hike up the volcano the weekend before.
In honor of one of my favorite writers, I will create a quasi running diary of the trek from start to finish:
Day 1: 6 a.m.: Adrenalina picked us up early and we were off, we had our clothes for the trip in a separate bag. Nervous, but ready to leave Xela, we silently bumped along as the van went to pick up the rest of the people in our group around Xela. The next people to enter the van were a family of three: Dad, son and girlfriend from Finland. I hate to do this, but the minute I saw Stefan, the father, decked out in what can only be described as new age safari clothing even though there would be no chance of seeing lions, impatiently and angrily looking at his watch as if he had been timing the van, I did not like him. As the trip progressed, he did nothing to ever repair this image, and I would go as far as to say that he reveled in his awfulness. The last people to be picked up was a couple from Denmark, Jonas and Helena, our age, loads of fun and the saving grace of the trip.
7:30 am: Small talk subsided as we arrive at our starting point, we loaded up our rented bags that smell and look like they have seen better days, probably still wet from the previous sweaty person, we are given our food, water and supplies. The four of us load up our bags, while the family is posturing angrily in the background. It turns out they only packed light shoulder bags and could not carry the extra material that was given to them. Their agent had told them that they should only pack day packs and now had nowhere to put the additional cargo. Stefan, understandably angry regarding the poor communication, refuses to carry any of his stuff and only when our guide says that he has to, does, begrudgingly grabbing his water and sleeping bag. However he flat out refuses to carry his mat, and shoves it at the guide; the guide is loaded to the gills. Finally, I take a mat and extra food and so does Jonas and Helena to lighten the load.
9 am: Up hill, and more uphill. What a start, 3 minutes into the trek, although it is a brisk morning, I am drenched in sweat. Not used to the bag, I am moving slower than usual, but feeling fine. Sam is also doing well, but by the end of the first hour, fatigue has set in and I look up to see Sam, still moving along, but looking a bit like a prize fighter after getting knocked in the face, wobbly, but still in the fight. No one is speaking, probably because they are wondering why they choose this trip.
10:00 am: Our first break, here Stefan takes the chance to have a pow wow with our guide, with his girlfriend. He explains that his girlfriend can`t carry the mat, because, she can`t, and our guide must take it. Without any other choice, the guide takes it, but flat out refuses to take the sleeping bag. Stefan, upset that he has to carry the bag in his hand is not happy and trudges off.
I am doing well, sweaty, but enjoying the hike. It is funny hiking, most of the time you are concentrating on walking and not tipping over some side or spraining your ankle and a lot of the actual allure of the trail is lost since, if you look up, without a doubt a root will come and find you or a rock will move into place to break your toe.
Also, when you hike, like running, you have time to think about: nothing. It is magical honestly, however after this start, I realized something more about hiking, you begin to hurt in areas that you didn`t know could hurt you, like my middle toe on my right foot, or a muscle located I think behind my shoulder blade.
10:45: Moving down hill now and with the slick grass and trail from rain and the cooler temperatures, the terrain is precarious. We move downwards on a switch back trail and this is where I struggled. Before we descended, Mila, the girlfriend of Stefan, dropped the sleeping bag and it tumbled downward. Without any reaction from Stefan to go collect the lost sleeping back, everyone watched as it disappeared into the brush. Sam looked up and Mila looked at Sam and said that, ' I am not going to get, we are better off without it anyways.' The guide collected the bag and handed back to Mila, without any thanks, and Stefan just stood upset that this plague had come back.
By the end, I slipped five times, everyone one of them more theatrical than the first. My first one, I looked a like a cow on roller skates, , my right foot slipped; I tried to stabilize with my left, but this was fruitless as I continued downward. In a panic response, I wrenched my body right to compensate, but ultimately spinning and then fell straight backward. My second was immediately after the guide slipped and I was trying to be the hero and let Sam know about the danger zone when I slipped as well. Finally my last was as if I stepped on a banana peel. My right foot went out and there I was falling backwards with my leg straight out, my arms stiff and pointed outwards while my bum shot backwards.
For my encore, just before level ground, I twisted my ankle.
12 pm: we arrive at our first destination for lunch. As it turns out, this is where we would stay the night. Basically for those at home, we had 15 hours to kill. Luckily, the place we were staying had three houses and one shop that made rationing look like a real feast. You took 5 giant steps and you had traversed the town and now were outside of it. We sat down and had our sandwich to which Stefan remarked that this did not constitute lunch; not sure what he was expecting since we were carrying all of his food.
I brought cards with us and Stefan`s son, Walter, played with us. We learned more tidbits about our conquering hero Stefan. He was quite the traveler coming from time in the Congo and had taken Walter on trips to the ever popular family destinations of : Syria, Lebanon and Iran among others. Walter also gave us a bit of the genealogy of his family, Stefan, apparently is trying to outdo some NBA basketball players in amount of kids, Walter has half siblings from: America, Sweden, Estonia, Finland.
Day 2 tomorrow
In honor of one of my favorite writers, I will create a quasi running diary of the trek from start to finish:
Day 1: 6 a.m.: Adrenalina picked us up early and we were off, we had our clothes for the trip in a separate bag. Nervous, but ready to leave Xela, we silently bumped along as the van went to pick up the rest of the people in our group around Xela. The next people to enter the van were a family of three: Dad, son and girlfriend from Finland. I hate to do this, but the minute I saw Stefan, the father, decked out in what can only be described as new age safari clothing even though there would be no chance of seeing lions, impatiently and angrily looking at his watch as if he had been timing the van, I did not like him. As the trip progressed, he did nothing to ever repair this image, and I would go as far as to say that he reveled in his awfulness. The last people to be picked up was a couple from Denmark, Jonas and Helena, our age, loads of fun and the saving grace of the trip.
7:30 am: Small talk subsided as we arrive at our starting point, we loaded up our rented bags that smell and look like they have seen better days, probably still wet from the previous sweaty person, we are given our food, water and supplies. The four of us load up our bags, while the family is posturing angrily in the background. It turns out they only packed light shoulder bags and could not carry the extra material that was given to them. Their agent had told them that they should only pack day packs and now had nowhere to put the additional cargo. Stefan, understandably angry regarding the poor communication, refuses to carry any of his stuff and only when our guide says that he has to, does, begrudgingly grabbing his water and sleeping bag. However he flat out refuses to carry his mat, and shoves it at the guide; the guide is loaded to the gills. Finally, I take a mat and extra food and so does Jonas and Helena to lighten the load.
9 am: Up hill, and more uphill. What a start, 3 minutes into the trek, although it is a brisk morning, I am drenched in sweat. Not used to the bag, I am moving slower than usual, but feeling fine. Sam is also doing well, but by the end of the first hour, fatigue has set in and I look up to see Sam, still moving along, but looking a bit like a prize fighter after getting knocked in the face, wobbly, but still in the fight. No one is speaking, probably because they are wondering why they choose this trip.
10:00 am: Our first break, here Stefan takes the chance to have a pow wow with our guide, with his girlfriend. He explains that his girlfriend can`t carry the mat, because, she can`t, and our guide must take it. Without any other choice, the guide takes it, but flat out refuses to take the sleeping bag. Stefan, upset that he has to carry the bag in his hand is not happy and trudges off.
I am doing well, sweaty, but enjoying the hike. It is funny hiking, most of the time you are concentrating on walking and not tipping over some side or spraining your ankle and a lot of the actual allure of the trail is lost since, if you look up, without a doubt a root will come and find you or a rock will move into place to break your toe.
Also, when you hike, like running, you have time to think about: nothing. It is magical honestly, however after this start, I realized something more about hiking, you begin to hurt in areas that you didn`t know could hurt you, like my middle toe on my right foot, or a muscle located I think behind my shoulder blade.
10:45: Moving down hill now and with the slick grass and trail from rain and the cooler temperatures, the terrain is precarious. We move downwards on a switch back trail and this is where I struggled. Before we descended, Mila, the girlfriend of Stefan, dropped the sleeping bag and it tumbled downward. Without any reaction from Stefan to go collect the lost sleeping back, everyone watched as it disappeared into the brush. Sam looked up and Mila looked at Sam and said that, ' I am not going to get, we are better off without it anyways.' The guide collected the bag and handed back to Mila, without any thanks, and Stefan just stood upset that this plague had come back.
By the end, I slipped five times, everyone one of them more theatrical than the first. My first one, I looked a like a cow on roller skates, , my right foot slipped; I tried to stabilize with my left, but this was fruitless as I continued downward. In a panic response, I wrenched my body right to compensate, but ultimately spinning and then fell straight backward. My second was immediately after the guide slipped and I was trying to be the hero and let Sam know about the danger zone when I slipped as well. Finally my last was as if I stepped on a banana peel. My right foot went out and there I was falling backwards with my leg straight out, my arms stiff and pointed outwards while my bum shot backwards.
For my encore, just before level ground, I twisted my ankle.
12 pm: we arrive at our first destination for lunch. As it turns out, this is where we would stay the night. Basically for those at home, we had 15 hours to kill. Luckily, the place we were staying had three houses and one shop that made rationing look like a real feast. You took 5 giant steps and you had traversed the town and now were outside of it. We sat down and had our sandwich to which Stefan remarked that this did not constitute lunch; not sure what he was expecting since we were carrying all of his food.
I brought cards with us and Stefan`s son, Walter, played with us. We learned more tidbits about our conquering hero Stefan. He was quite the traveler coming from time in the Congo and had taken Walter on trips to the ever popular family destinations of : Syria, Lebanon and Iran among others. Walter also gave us a bit of the genealogy of his family, Stefan, apparently is trying to outdo some NBA basketball players in amount of kids, Walter has half siblings from: America, Sweden, Estonia, Finland.
Day 2 tomorrow
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
one is coming
Hi everyone, I am alive and well. We are in San Pedro on Lago de Atitlan and are relaxing after a hard three day hike from Xela. Tomorrow, or if I can´t peel myself from the hamock, the next day, I will update it in full for your reading enjoyment about the hike. Stay tuned...
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