My bus broke down

What a weekend. It seemed simple enough. Yeah, I knew it would take a while to get to Omotepe and to the destination I wanted to go (which I had no idea where it would be when I started the day. That's how I roll.). First, Islas Omotepe are two volcanoes in Lago de Nicaragua that have combined to become one giant island. It's near Granada. The combined b/c of the lava flows between the volcanoes. I think both volcanoes are dormant but maybe that's not right. I think the smaller of the 2, Madera, has visible lava flows. To get to Omotepe, you have to take a ferry or a lancha. One would do this from San Jorge, next to Rivas. To get to Rivas, one would take an ordinario from Granada or some other location. Ordinarios are my dear old friends, chicken buses.

Let's start the recap of this buena experienca. I went to get the bus from Granada. Lonely Planet says something about how often they run, but whatever. I got to the station/parking lot and it was a familiar scene. Un estacion cerca del mercado. Los ayudantes estuvan gritando los destinos de sus autobuses. I think it was between 10:20-11am when I got on one of the buses. We didn't leave until after 11:30.

The bus didn't leave until it was overflowing. This was the worst bus ride I've taken. I could hardly move at all and I had a seat partner and 2-3 people with their bodies pushed against mine in the aisle. Personal space be damned. This is a novelty that we've grown to expect in the US and other westernized worlds. It doesn't exist in Central America. It's expected that you'll know the person next to you intimately by the end of your trip. Nicas also push like yell and jump lines like no one's business, but that's a different matter. I think Asian markets have the personal space thing beat or give it a run for it for its money. Where was I? Oh yeah. I was wedged into my seat with no where to go. After an hour of this I was really starting to check my watch. My knees were starting to hurt (I think my IT band on my left knew is a bit jacked at this point, not from the trip, but it really tightens up when I'm packed into a spot too small for me for too long) and I'm trying to put my mind in a zen state so I don't just stand up and start yelling to be let out. It didn't help looking out the window and seeing trash everywhere. Seriously. Can C. America please make it a priority to get some more trash cans and some propaganda about throwing trash in the trash can and not just out the window?

Well, we arrived in Rivas at about 1:15 and then after a another 15mins wedged into a shuttle bus seat, I was in San Jorge. The next boat didn't leave until 2:30. This was ferry packed to the gills. Another hour but this time I got to stand up and be outside. 'Whatever. I'll get there and see some stuff tomorrow and go home better off' I tell myself. Two things here. Getting off the ferry was scary. Like I said, packed beyond capacity and pushy Nicas. Oh yeah, and Florida temperatures. I looked at the life jackets stacked up off to the side and started wondering if a ferry capsizing in Lago de Nicaragua, which was overfilled with people, would make international news. I'd been trapped in my own mind for too long and it was really too hot. Bad combination. The other thing is less grim. I saw 2 girls that Elisa and I would run into a lot while traveling. Elisa, remember the 2 blondes on the shuttle from El Retiro sitting in front of us and we'd keep seeing them in other places in Guate? Yeah, those girls. Up until now, I hadn't seen anyone else from the other countries I've visited.

We got to Moyogalpa, Omotepe's largest town, at about 3:45 and I learned the next bus is going to Maderia, where I decided to go. It's on the smaller part of Omotepe. At 4:30, the bus rolled up and so did another ferry. I was the only one on the bus prior to the ferry arriving and then it was full beyond capacity again and I was wedged in again. This time was worse because the seats were plastic and I don't have much padding on my ass. The ride was supposed to take approx. 2h, as these buses stop wherever. So we were puttin' along and made it pasted half way on this part of the trip. We stopped to let some people off and the driver revs the engine. 'Oh shit. Is he showing off? Making a ruckus?' Revs the engine again....Nothing.... 'I think the engine's still running. This is good sign.' Revs again. 'Ok. Engine's still running but not engaging. This is a bad sign.' Ayudante´ started looking under the bus about now. 'Drive shaft?' About now, everyone grabs their stuff and gets off. Then the driver shut off the engine and the ayudante´was giving money back to the passengers. 'Mutha-effer. What do I do now?'

I collected my money and decided not to cram into the microbus that had just pulled up and had been swarmed upon by a pack of brown bees. In front of me were 3 guys that were looking at me a little strange on the bus. One asked where I was going and I replied 'Maderia' and he said that's where they're going too. The conversation stopped there. But when they started walking, I followed them. About now, it was 5:45 and the sun was starting to go down. I was starting to have images of the guys trying to jump me earlier in the week as I walked by all these people outside their houses or just in the street. I was thinking of this not because they're brown but because they were looking at me strangely as I walked by. I was thinking 'they're doing this because of my height and they've never seen a giant gringo walk by and hopefully not because they're sizing me up.' So I continued to smile and say 'Hola' which usually resulted in smile and an 'Hola' back and I kept walking.

On the other hand, everything around me was gorgeous. Banana tree fields. Volcanoes on both sides of me. Sky turning purple as it goes to night. Pigs and chickens running around and just simplicity and serenity. It was a very strange sensation flipping between fear of what might happen and being in the moment and enjoying what I was experiencing.

By now, the 3 locals going to Maderia had turned off onto a dirt road. I thought about following them but then thought it best for a solo gringo to stay on the paved road. Especially since it was about to get real dark. I kept walking hoping I'd see some sign to get some bearings but none were around. My thoughts were all over the place. Fear. Anxiety. Pleasure. Joy.

Finally I came to signs for Playa Santo Domingo. I hadn't planned on staying here at all but it was looking like I would be. Four more kilometers and I'd be there-2.4miles more. No longer a paved road and it was really getting dark. No lights. No signs. I came up to 3 guys in the road that call to me before I got to them. 'Amigo. Wait. My friend is coming. This might be him.' As I got closer to them I realized it was the same 3 guys from earlier. I'd caught up to them. It wasn't his friend coming, so we walked. We didn't talk, but they did. After some time, a microbus came along and we hitched a ride. Paid about $1.40 for this but I was thankful. It went by Playa Santo Domingo but since the other guys were going to Maderia, I thought that's where we were going. The bus wasn't going there so we got dropped at the crossroad for Balgue and Maderia.

The sign said 6.2kms to Maderia. So we walked. And these guys walked fast even for me. By now it was full-on night. The moon was out and not a cloud in the sky. The moon was our flashlight. Banana fields to my right, palms to my left. Volcan Maderas moving to my left. Volcan Concepcion behind me. I couldn't ask for a better night to be hoofing it through some backcountry to get to Maderia. After some time we started talking to each other. No one here can say Randy unless I trill the R. I have to remind myself to try Charles or Charlie at some point to see how that goes. Here in Nicaragua, after the younger guys get my name, they say 'like Randy Johnson.' Just thought you'd find that funny ole man.

Oh yeah, and strangely enough, what broke the silence was talking about motorcycles. I heard 'Harley Davidson. It's the mark of a really nice motorcycle.' 'No way, I said. BMW is a really nice one.' Once they realized I was saying BMW, they still didn't know BMW makes motorcycles. Figures. After a little while a truck with no headlights came up behind us. It had floodlights. Well, I thought they were floodlights but it turned out to be 2 people holding flashlights. We climbed into the back and I rode the last half a klick or so in the truck. From there I walked with Pedro only as the other 2 had reached their homes. Pedro told me he was 19 and an engineering/architect student in university, but only on Saturdays. 52 Saturdays a year, he and the other 2 guys travel some insane amount of time to the university to study. They'll do this for 5yrs. Saturdays only b/c it's cheaper. He was saying there's not a lot of work in Nicaragua for his area of study or at least that's what I think he said.

Pedro walked me to the entrance of Isla de Monos Hotel. From there a 10yr old walked me the rest of the way. I wish I could remember his name. He had a pocket full of marbles and spoke a little English. He and I ate my last bananas before I reached the hostel.

Again here I had a whole fried fish plate for $3. Got a shower and I was very content. By now it was 8pm. Damn, what a long day. However. I was so enamored with Omotepe, the night, the people, and the setting that I stayed up to start writing this. After a while I laid in one of the hammocks and dozed and seriously thought about sleeping outside in the hammock. Cool lake breezes kept the mosquitoes at bay and made it cool enough that I could sleep there, but at about midnight I thought I'd end up being cold and got in my bed.

Next morning I woke up pretty early b/c I had intentions of going to the waterfall near by. I got a desayuno tipico which is scrambled eggs and gallo pinto (red beans and rice). I was enjoying myself thoroughly when I saw Elisa and I's good Czech friend from our last nights in Antigua. That's Right!!! Our paths crossed again. And guess what? He was complaining again! This time there was much more drama involved with the clerk and then the owner of the hostel. I'm not sure how it all ended as I started talking to some girls from the Netherlands that were moving south to north.

All this excitement pushed my departure to the waterfall back. Additionally, there was a limited bus schedule for Sunday, maybe/maybe not because of Semana Santa. So I had to get back by 2pm for an expensive cab I was going to share with the Dutch girls. Therefore, I rented a bicycle and biked to entrance of the park for the waterfall and then hiked 3kms to its base. I was really content with the whole experience. Beautiful day. Not too hot yet. No one around. And a whole bunch of things I'd never seen before. I've seen bigger more impressive waterfalls, but you could stand under this one and take a shower, which I did, too cool off before hiking the 3kms back down the hillside. From there I rode the bike back to the hostel, stopping for swim from a nice beach along the way.

Everything was kosher until we got back to Rivas and there was no bus to Granada. But the 3 of us managed and I got back here in one piece. I was thankful I didn't have my donkee pack on this adventure. All in all, Omotepe is amazing but definitely go for more than a night.

What a couple of days

I've debated wether or not I wanted to share this with you all or not. For 2 main reasons really. 1) I don't want you all worrying about me, 2) I'm not trying to tempt fate (how much I believe in the idea I don't know but there's something to be said about the matter) into repeating it. But, it's been on my mind as part of the combination of my experience in Granada, Nicaragua, where I'm at right now, and I think it's best to purge and also let you all really know what I'm experiencing.

First, Granada is about 90km southwestish of Managua. Both cities are on Lakes. Granada is on Lago de Nicaragua. Managua is on Lago de Managua. Both cities are relatively close to the Pacific coast as well. Something like an hour or two.

Ok. So, Sunday evening I was almost jumped/robbed/mugged, whatever you want to call it, by 2 guys. Mom & Dad (& everyone else), before you get your panties in a bunch, this could've happened anywhere, just so happens it was here. Don't worry, I'm ok.

Let me go back first and tell you how I got here. Saturday, I left La Libertad, begrudgingly. Got to the San Salvador bus station to book a ticket to Managua. The only bus leaving that day at that time was $42. Ouch! considering the cost for transportation thus far hadn't been anywhere near $42. But it was a first class trip as far as buses are concerned. Included "meal service" (a sandwich for lunch and some snacks much later-good think I brought my own stuff), 2 Will Smith movies, and fully reclineable seats. About 10h later and 2 border crossings I was in Managua. Everyone I've talked to (mostly gringos) say Managua sucks and is really dangerous. I didn't spend more than the night there so I wouldn't know. I met another solo-US-traveler from Seattle (Jason) and we got a room for the night with the help of Chooki, our cab driver. We asked for one hotel & I think we got it but I'm not sure.

Regardless, next morning (Sunday), Jason and I both went to Granada. I experienced some the pushiest ayudantes ever here but held my ground when one was trying forcibily to put me on his minibus. What the fuck?? Didn't even say yeah or anything to him. Just grabbing my bag and then chest bumping me while I'm trying to get on a different minibus.

Granada is 45m-1h from Managua. I stashed my stuff at a hostel, then went looking for a school with the help of an Aussie chic named Henna who was really no help at all. One school I wanted to check out had a line around the block, literally. I figured out later this was polling place. It's on the main square. Granada is absolutely beautiful. Much prettier than Antigua which is what a lot of people compare it to. So colorful. So hot (not as hot as Managua). So many churches. Maybe I'll acutally go in one this time. I found the other school I was really interested in and signed up for classes. Got put into the home of a very attractive single mother who seems to be very well off (I'm not sure exactly how many people live here vs. work here yet). Then went on a boat tour of the islets with Moises, the teacher in training. Lago de Nicaragua, where the islets are, is massive. At one time, there was a canal proposal that included going from the Atlantic to Lago de Nicaragua to the Pacific. There are something like 336 islets. I don't know how many are close to Granada. People live on the islets. Both rich and not so rich. JI, you could buy your own island here for as much as a house in Livermore or Mantica might be.

Moises and I ate linner. Fried whole tilapia from the lake (I think), platanos tajadas, and rice. Gotta have rice. Plus some $2 liter beers on the boat and $1 bottles at linner (Toña and Victoria respectively which are the best beers I've had in C. America so far). Moises and I made plans to meet again that evening to hang out at 7:30pm. He was going to meet me at my homestay.

I went to get on the internet and get a snack before this. I hadn't anticipated going all the way to Parque Central to do this, but that's where I ended up. It's about a 7min walk from the house to Parque Central. Mind you, I didn't exactly know where my homestay was or have the address, but whatever. I've got a decent sense of direction and had some landmarks in my head. But, it gets dark here and they have 1 second long power outages that are like someone flipped the switch on and off.

So anyway. I had my para llevar taquitos and beans. I was eating them en route at about 7pm to get back to my house to meet Moises. Should only take me 15mins to get there. Well, I got turned about in the darkness and went down some streets that I thought should go through when in fact they don't. No problem, I thought I could figure it out. Well, I also walked into the wrong part of town. No problem. I've walked through the Tenderloin at 5am more than once. I ain't skcerd. But when you walk confidently past everyone the first time, but then walk past them in the other direction..... not so great.

I remember thinking out load when I was turning around "Oh shit. I've walked down the wrong street in the wrong part of town & now I've got to go back." So I turned around and continued to walk confidently back the way I'd come still saying 'Hola' and 'Buenas' to everyone that looked at me. This is normally what I've done in order to show people that, yes, I am a giant gringo, but no I'm not a threat. I was almost back to some things I had seen prior to turning down the wrong street when I heard footsteps getting faster and closer behind me. There, behind me, was 2 guys I'd seen minutes earlier. One was pretty close and was reaching for my arm or back pack as I was turning around. I chucked my styrofoam box at him and took off. He was steps behing me for about 4-5 strides but then I was gone. Thank you Saul. Thank you CrossFit. I sprinted for 5-6, maybe more, blocks before I couldn't go as fast anymore. I saw one of the many armed security guards on a street corner talking to a woman and ran toward them. I tried to express to them in my poor Spanish while panting that I'd almost been robbed. When they figured out what I was trying to say, they set me down. I asked for help getting a taxi they trusted while I caught my breath. This took a minute and then I had the joy of trying to explain where I lived to the cab driver. Some how the cab driver and his passanger were able to figure it out and I got home.

There's the story. Funny thing is I thought of it all comically. I knew I was in the wrong place. I remember nodding to the guy who tried to grab me on my way back up the wrong street. I remember thinking 'RUN' and '2-3-4' (strides). 'Gotcha. I'm gone.' And 'this is why I had Codexis pay Saul to kick my ass with CrossFit workouts.'

It's put a bit of a sour taste in my mouth and I didn't have the best class today so I'm wondering how long I'll be here. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

I love it here

I'm in La Libertad El Salvador now and yes, I love it here. Let's catch up, shall we? Antigua was hectic. I got just about everything accomplished with Elisa's help. Thank you young lady. Everything was looking good until I got to DHL with all the things I was sending home. I bought a shit-ton of souvenirs for gifts and what not. I had some other things I was sending back to D & S's since I wasn't using them too. I carried it all to DHL, got it weighed and found out it was going to be something like $300-350 to send to Peoria. Ok, fine. Whatever. I love you all and didn't want to lug this shit around. Next, she started going through everything. 'Oh no. Sorry. This can't go. This can't either. This too.' Then it dawned on me...I'm shipping everything to the US, where we fear everything. Even butter knives coming in packages. Fine, Ok. It was getting worse but that was what I was going to have to deal with. Then she said "and I need an itemized list of everything going in the box." En serio!!! Of course you do. That's right, JI did too every time he'd ship things. Fine. I made a list and checked it twice. Packed the box. She went through the box with the list. Everything was cool until she got to the coffee. 'These can't go. The label isn't satisfactory.' I was really starting to hate US Customs by now. Ok. I'll come back. I had to think and I had other things to do. US Customs is so crazy. We used to get drugs (for research and synthesis purposes at Codexis) in envelopes labeled as glucose when in fact it would be an anti-cancer precursor. And I can't get coffee into the country with out a special form and an extra fee. Go figure.


After running around for about an hour like a chicken without a head, I found Elisa and 'convinced' her to take my things to Santa Barbara with her in 2days and then mail it from inside the US. Because we all know once inside the US, you can send just about anything through USPS. Anthrax? Sure, no problem.


On Wednesday, I entrusted everything to Elisa, said good-bye and got on the shuttle to San Salvador (via Guatemala City which I didn't think was going to happen when I was planning on buying the shuttle ride), El Salvador. This was the easiest way to get to the beaches on the Pacific coast (ES's only coast). Everything about the trip was cool except the shuttle getting me to the station late and then missing the economic bus (Fine. $2 more to take the upgrade. God I love how cheap it is here for me) crossing the border. My own stupidity resulted in the loss of $8 at the border, however. I don't want to explain.

San Salvador is supposed to be dangerous, but I found it chill. I left almost as soon as I got there, though. The people were all very nice helping me get on the right buses. Again, I got lots of looks b/c of my height but that's been the norm thus far. I made it to La Libertad (an hour by bus to the west of San Salvador, right on the coast) before dark. The bus driver spoke enough English and he told me about his sons in CA. He was really nice. Showed me where the cheap, clean hotels were and I got a room walking distance to Punta Roca. Sure, ambience was something to be desired, but a fan, the most comfortable mattress thus far, and nice people (& $5/night) made up for it.

Next morning, I did some interneting to keep Tiffany and John on track for meeting me, then went to Playa El Zonte. Oh yeah. In El Salvador, the bus system, which is an actual system with routes, is run by old school US buses again. This time, no haggling over prices, they're posted and everyone pays the same. Thank God! I forgot, La Libertad is a pretty small town, but a good sized for a beach town. It has a dangerous reputation, especially at night, but I really haven't had a problem. Granted, I'm not out after 10:30pm and I'm not out waving my camera around trying to prompt an attack. There's a nice central square that has a comedor overlooking kids playing and men playing cards. A pier, where fresh catches are sold. I might have been more of a tourist here and taken pictures, but again I'm trying to blend in as best I can. Guys were gutting fish they'd just caught that morning. Dried fish everywhere and women yelling out their goods. La Libertad has more infastructure than I anticipated and everyone is real decent. There's a weak push for tourism tight now. Maybe in the future. And this is a surf town. Some of the best waves in ES break here. Next to my hotel is Tabletas de Surf Hospital. All the beaches here are surf beaches not swimming beaches. Rip-currents that will drag you down the coast in a second. Black sand beaches. Jet black. Which I'd never seen before. Hot with a breeze. Licuados for $1. Breakfast (eggs, beans, rice, coffee) for $1.50. Pupusas for $0.35. 3 tacos for $1. The people look a lot different than Guatemalans. They look like they have Pacific Island, Filipino, or Mayori ancestry. Much better looking women than the majority of Guate girls. Culos grandes tambien! Ay Dios Mio!


I tell you what, I was really hesitant about La Libertad, but when I go back, I don't think I'd stay anywhere else on the coast near San Salvador. Posada Margoth is the place. Even if I drove down the coast to surf every break like 2 guys from NY I met had done previously, I think I'd stay here again. Good people, ya know.

There's so many other good things I could say about my limited time here. I think that since I was here for a short time, I didn't have long enough to have it spoiled. El Salvador is definitely a country I'd explore more thoroughly. But alas. I'm moving on. Tomorrow I go to Managua, Nicaragua. I'm planning on taking more Spanish classes in Leon, Estelli or Granada. One more licuado for the road. I'm addicted. What can I say?

Buen precio para usted

I heard that so much yesterday it made an indelible mark on my brain. Elisa didn't like it too much when I'd repeat this over and over later in the day. Yesterday was Chichicastenango, one of the largest, most fabled markets in all of Central America. It's about 2h from Antigua by bus up in the highlands. We decided instead of day-tripping to the market, we'd stay there overnight since it was on our way to Antigua, where I am now. Yes, all roads in Guatemala return to Antigua. I'm convinced. First, the bus ride there...it was foreshadowing of things to come. By far the scariest ride to date. Second, arrival... we get there and it was chaos incarnate. We were dumped at a corner almost in the market. It was about 12-1pm. Market had been in full swing for a few hours already. A guy with a Guate tourist smock on started peddling hotels and we were hesitant to listen as this is standard when you exit any mode of transport, people start yelling at you trying to get your business. So by now, our response is "No gracias". This guy spoke some English and seemed nice enough so we listened since he didn't yell and then followed him. He walked us straight through the market, both of us fully loaded, to a decent hotel. After some lunch, we hit the market. So Chichi is a larger, more intense version of every other market I'd been to thus far. I considered myself pretty good at the haggling game but Chichi is the major leagues. I dealt with one vendor for at least 25mins haggling. Finally, the price came down to what I last said I'd pay. Instead of leaving satisfied, I felt a little upset that I didn't stick to my first price. The other thing about Chichi and the other markets is that they all, and I mean all have the same things. Difference town to town? No. Difference vendor to vendor? No. I really think there's some sort of warehouse that everyone gets there items from. Either that, or they all have the same vendor for patterns and styles.


At the end of the experience, I was really tired and my head hurt. We were there really only 2h and didn't cover the entire market. The market ends around 3pm and then people pack up everything. Traditionally, people would come from all over the country and arrive the night before the market, eat some dinner, then sleep in their space on the ground until market day morning when they would set up everything real early. Everything was so-so until dinner when I ordered something off the menu only to be served and charged for a special order. Chichi really confuses me. Lots of gringos, non-Spanish speaking gringos, come here on a tour for the day. The restaurant accepted credit cards, a novelty in this country. But, still, the order was screwed up and I was over charged. We tried to explain but our broken Spanish wasn't coming fast enough. Tired, we accepted defeat and went back to the hotel. Enough for one day.


Now we're back in Antigua and I'm running around like mad because this is one place I can accomplish everything that needs accomplishing. Flight to Peru. Bus to El Salvador beaches. Ship gifts home. Etc.


The bus ride here was the scariest of them all. I had white knuckles more than once. Since Chichi is up pretty high, we came down at break neck speeds, twisting and turning, passing on the left entirely too fast. But by the end, I was sitting in the back reading about El Salvador. Best not to look I thought.


I'm less than ecstatic to be back in Antigua. Immediately, a yuck taste was in my mouth. It's lovely and all but something about it I don't care for. Maybe it's because I have a shit-ton to do and I don't want to do it. Maybe it's just the feel. I can't put my finger on it right this second... Oh well. I have plenty to do, so I'm off.

This turned into a rant

School ended yesterday. But is was a busy couple of days leading up to yesterday. Elisa got in late on Wednesday night. Then on Thursday, Elisa, Robert, Carrie, Desiree (other students), me, Alma and 2 of her kids went to Fuentes Georginas. Today, during school, Carrie, Desiree, me and our teachers (we all have 1-on-1 instruction) all went to the Mennonite bakery. Today, Elisa and I went to San Francisco El Alto which was a bust. Tonight we're going to the Vagina Monologues (I wish I remember how to write it in Spanish).


Fuentes Georginas was the shit! The whole experience was great. Took a bus to Zunil, 20-25min away. Got off at the bridge into town over one of the most disgusting rivers here. I'll get to this in a minute, let me tell you about FG first. From the bridge you can also see some local farmers irrigating their crops from canals between the plots by scooping water from the canals with buckets or large plastic bowls. One woman was tossing water as fast as she could, all bent over. Talk about back breaking. Much respect for what people are willing to endure and what the body can endure. Come to Guatemala, you'll be shocked.

From there we took a pick-up up to FG. Five gringos in the back standing up getting soaked by the rain, while Alma and her 2 kids were inside the truck with the driver.


The ride was beautiful. We went twisting and turning through hillsides covered in every vegetable imaginable. It's easy to comprehend how this area generates so much agriculture for the country. The fruits and vegetables in Puerto Barrios were from here.


We climbed higher and higher into the mist as the rain continued. By the time we were at FG (about 20min ride) we were pretty cold and wet. Didn't matter because the spas were really hot. FG is beautiful. The backdrop is a hillside that looks like a tropical forest and at the bottom is the first pool which I think is the hottest. We stayed in the water until we were plenty pruney then went back to Xela. Round it off with homemade hot chocolate at Cafe La Luna and it was really great excursion.


The Mennonite bakery is only open 2-3 days a week and you have to get there early as they only make a limited amount of stuff. Carbs are a plenty here in Xela and, well, all of Gutemala, and I could tell they were using lots of real butter. I bought Carmen a bunch of stuff as thank you gifts there.


San Francisco El Alto. Supposed to be a great market town for buying garments. Very authentic. Well, not on a Saturday. Saturday it's very sleepy and deserted. On the bus rides up here was where it really sank in that I was experiencing discrimination in this country. We'd ask people on the bus how much it would cost to get to SFEA. They'd say Q2.5/person. Ayudante´came around. Handed him Q5/para dos. 'No. It's Q6 for 2. But other people said it'2 Q2.5/person. No. It's Q3. Everyone pays Q3. Yeah, but they don't.' Our Spanish skills aren't good enough to argue. It's only a difference of about $0.07 but still. It's the principle. Why should it be different because I'm white? This is the case everywhere in Guatemala. Want to buy a t-shirt at the market? Starting price for gringos is Q100-110. After 10-15min of negotiations, hopefully you've gotten it down to Q50 which would probably be the starting point for a Guate. Ok. Ok. We're probably not talking hatred or name calling or sit in the back because your skin is a different color but still the feeling is awful. It just pissed me off and made me angry. Compound this with the stares because of my height, and the frustration mounts. How many of you, my friends, lived through this in your lives I don't know. Maybe if that's all you know then it's different somehow to deal with. I wonder how the white world would respond if everything was all of a sudden flipped on it's ear and we were no longer the most privileged race on the planet. I think anarchy and chaos would be just the tip of the burg.


I'm almost done with this ranting. I have to cover plastic and trash and then I'm done.... People here just throw all their trash into rivers (they're filled with trash, absolutely filled. These are the same waterways used for irrigating crops, washing clothes, bathing, and possibly drinking), on the ground, out the window, wherever. Finished with your plastic bag of water (Right. Plastic-it's everywhere. Worse than in the states. Plastic shopping bags are common place, but without any way to recycle them. The water, and sometimes juice and coke comes in plastic bags. It's really strange to see the professional futbol players drinking water from these bags during game breaks too. Any variety of cold drink para llevar is served in a plastic bag with a straw. At the futbol game, people were carrying bags of soda back to their seats. This is everywhere here. It finally dawned on me much later why the plastic bags get used for drinks to go. There's a deposit for the glass bottles. If a drink comes in a glass bottle, you don't get the bottle. The vendor keeps the bottle to recoup the deposit, hence the plastic bags of coke), throw it on the ground. Done with your bottle of orange soda on the bus? Throw it on the floor or, better yet out the window. Fuck an A it's gross. What's even nastier is how they get rid of trash. They burn it wherever it's piled up. An entire hillside was smoking with burning trash when we got to Zunil on Thursday.

....You know, now that I've written this, it would be interesting to see how different our waste management principles are in the states. Yeah, we recycle in the states, but we also incinerate trash and bury it and send it to other countries like Guatemala. Maybe we're just better at hiding the byproducts of our consumption. But when I see the trash here, it makes me wonder what kind of hope there is at all for mankind. Cancer of the world.


That's all for today. I feel a bit cleansed. Elisa and I are leaving tomorrow for Chichicastenango (aka ChiChi) to see one of the largest markets in Central America. Thursdays and Sundays are market days. From there, it's back to Antigua then Santa Barbara for ella and the Pacific beaches in El Salvador para mi.