We had some serious good luck on Tuesday. Here is what happened. We had made plans to take a bus ride to Zacatecaluca, a small town near here that I have mentioned before. There are several reasons for going to Zacatecaluca, which is an hour long bus ride, more or less. You usually have to change buses, and the second bus is always full, so you spend at least one third to one half of the ride standing up, crammed against other people. There is a direct bus (no need to change buses), but it actually takes longet because it stops more places. Anyway, sometimes we go to Zacatecaluca to do some grocery shopping, and we then take a $30 cab home instead of taking the bus. The other reason to go is to go to the post office. It is a hassle and an all day affair. There are no bars there, nor any decent restaurants we have been able to locate, and so we don't go there very often, usually saving up all errands for a trip to San Salvador every two weeks in an $80 dollar cab for all day going here and there.
When mail is sent to me here it is sent care of the hotel I am anchored near. it is part of what I pay the hotel $14 per week for - use of the facilities, laundry services, food and beer discounts, and the ability to recieve mail at that address. The only mail that is actually delivered to the hotel, however, are letters and very small packages, like those padded mailing envelopes. That is because the guy who picks up and delivers the mail for the hotel and the surrpunding area only has a motorcyle, and can't carry packages. So if a package is sent here, it is left at the PO in Zacatecluca. They send a notice to the hotel, and then you bring the notice in and claim your mail. paying a small handling fee. That assumes, of course, that the package does not end up going through customs, whose procedures I already described in another post.
So anyway, we decided to go to the PO because we had some stuff we needed to send by regular mail that could not be handled by email. We also figured we'd do some light provisioning - not much because as soon as the cameras came in, we were going to Guatemala as soon as they arrived and they were due any day. So no need to stock up on food. When we left the hotel we asked if there were any notices for us from customs or the PO, but they told us no.
When we got to the PO, the clerk recognized us, and told us that coincidentally, we had some mail and the notification slip was on its way to the hotel that very day! I was expecting a padded mailer full of letters and stuff that I had asked my mail drop to forward to me separtely from the cameras they were also forwarding. I didnt want all my other mail needlessly hung up in customs with the cameras. I was really happy that we had made the trip - and even happier when we discovered it was not a padded mailer after all, rather, it was a box containing all the cameras and the other mail. Since there was a bill of lading with the value of all the camera stuff clearly posted on the box, I am amazed it did not go through customs. It just goes to show how arbitrary things can be. The total of this shipment was over $700, and we had to pay duty on a shipment worth only $200. But I am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when it saves me both time and money. No trip to customs for hours on end and no duty charges.
We hurried home, did not bother with groceries, bought a nice new backpack and decided to leave for Guatemala on Thursday (today). As you can see, we haven't gone anywhere. That is because plans have changed again.
There is a guy here who is taking his boat back north to the US. Mike and I are going to go with him as far as Chiapas, a sail of about two days under normal conditions. He has become a good friend, and has no crew as the plans he made fell through. So he was going to single hand it, and may have to do that after we leave in Chiapas. Anyway, it sounded like a fun thing to do, and means we can revisit San Cristobal de las Casas in the state of Chiapas (a place we loved), and take Mike over to Yucatan and Quintana Roo to see Chichen Itza, Tulum, and some other ruins. We 'll head from Mexico to Belize, then Belize to Guatemala. So I think it is all sort of perfect for everyone involved. It will be good for us to get some experience sailing a different boat, and we have to leave the country by mid October anyway because our visas will run out and we have already had the one-time-in-country-renewal. The visa we get here is good for 90 days at a stretch and works in El Salvador, Guatemala, Nicaragua, and Honduras. When we enter Guatemala from Belize, we get to start all over again.
I know my passport number by heart now, just like my social security number or my driver's license number.
So that is it for now. Our friend (Jason) wants to leave here between the 4th and 6th of October, so we'll see what happens.
“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” (Sylvia Plath)
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Change
Now that hurricane season here is winding down (it officially ends in November), there are some changes abrew here in our little estuary community.
A lot of people left their boats here and spent the summer in other places. The Canadians all go home for several months out of the year, something they are apparently required to do if they want to keep their health care or something like that. A lot of people only cruise part of the year, and leave their boats to go work and get more money for the next season of cruising. Others just like to see friends and family, while others want to get away from the oppressive heat found here in the tropics in the summer. So the bottom line is that there have been only six or seven boats here all summer long. But people are now starting to come back, and our dynamic is shifting. I am not complaining. It is fun to see other people again, have more news around the pool at happy hour, and just find our how everyone else is doing. At the same time, we are saying good-bye to people I have come to feel very close to. So it is a mixed blessing, so to speak.
Mike and I are awaiting the delivery of two new cameras and their accouterments. (I hope I spelled that right.) They were ordered over the internet and mailed to our mail drop in Florida. The mail drop them had it sent on to us. Since the mail was sent from Florida on September 10, and two weeks is the minimum amount of time that it seems to take for things to get from there to here, I am anticipating receipt sometime this coming week. The package will go to customs, and we should get a notice telling us it is there. Then we head to the customs office, which is located in San Salvador at the main post office. It will stop in customs because they will want us to pay some duty. The bummer is that this procedure could take us all day, going from office to office getting stamp after stamp and then returning to where you started in the first place, nothing changed except I now have several additional pieces of stamped paper. There is not, however, any way to avoid it. I guess this is one of those "serenity to accept the things I cannot change" things.
It has been different for me to keep this blog this summer than it was last summer. Last summer we were cruising in the Sea of Cortez, which meant we were moving around and there were a lot of different things to talk about. This summer was more just us living in El Salvador, albeit on a boat. I think we should have done more, and spent less time just laying around here in the estuary. But then again, we are still learning how to live without having to go to work, how to live on a boat, how to live without TV, how to live at anchor, and how to live in a foreign country and so on. It is still overwhelming at times, and at other times I have been heartily bored. Living at a resort is certainly comfortable, but I think at times it has been a little too comfortable. But I think the hardest part has been dealing with no longer having to go to work every day.
Now I do not miss getting up five days a week and going into the office. But I do sort of miss being in the game, being part of things, being in my own way a mover and a shaker on a small scale. I don't know that I am explaining myself very well, and I do not want to sound like a whiner. But I do miss having people look up to me and respect my knowledge base. Here, I am not an authority on anything. So I just assign myself the role of Class Clown (my fallback position in most any situation if I can't be Best Student) when we are in groups and it seems to work fine. I guess in some ways I just need to find a new identity for myself, an identity that does not revolve around my work. Or find another sort of work. I would love to write a book, but I can't seem to get started. There are a million books of sailing memoirs, many with far better adventures than I have had. And if I am going to write something, I want it to be something people in general would actually want to read. It's not like I don't have enough time on my hands to do that. Hemingway said the way to start is to write one true sentence. I suppose I could do that.
“I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish… You see, it is difficult to get all which I want. And then when I do not succeed I get mad with anger.” (Simone de Beauvoir)
A lot of people left their boats here and spent the summer in other places. The Canadians all go home for several months out of the year, something they are apparently required to do if they want to keep their health care or something like that. A lot of people only cruise part of the year, and leave their boats to go work and get more money for the next season of cruising. Others just like to see friends and family, while others want to get away from the oppressive heat found here in the tropics in the summer. So the bottom line is that there have been only six or seven boats here all summer long. But people are now starting to come back, and our dynamic is shifting. I am not complaining. It is fun to see other people again, have more news around the pool at happy hour, and just find our how everyone else is doing. At the same time, we are saying good-bye to people I have come to feel very close to. So it is a mixed blessing, so to speak.
Mike and I are awaiting the delivery of two new cameras and their accouterments. (I hope I spelled that right.) They were ordered over the internet and mailed to our mail drop in Florida. The mail drop them had it sent on to us. Since the mail was sent from Florida on September 10, and two weeks is the minimum amount of time that it seems to take for things to get from there to here, I am anticipating receipt sometime this coming week. The package will go to customs, and we should get a notice telling us it is there. Then we head to the customs office, which is located in San Salvador at the main post office. It will stop in customs because they will want us to pay some duty. The bummer is that this procedure could take us all day, going from office to office getting stamp after stamp and then returning to where you started in the first place, nothing changed except I now have several additional pieces of stamped paper. There is not, however, any way to avoid it. I guess this is one of those "serenity to accept the things I cannot change" things.
It has been different for me to keep this blog this summer than it was last summer. Last summer we were cruising in the Sea of Cortez, which meant we were moving around and there were a lot of different things to talk about. This summer was more just us living in El Salvador, albeit on a boat. I think we should have done more, and spent less time just laying around here in the estuary. But then again, we are still learning how to live without having to go to work, how to live on a boat, how to live without TV, how to live at anchor, and how to live in a foreign country and so on. It is still overwhelming at times, and at other times I have been heartily bored. Living at a resort is certainly comfortable, but I think at times it has been a little too comfortable. But I think the hardest part has been dealing with no longer having to go to work every day.
Now I do not miss getting up five days a week and going into the office. But I do sort of miss being in the game, being part of things, being in my own way a mover and a shaker on a small scale. I don't know that I am explaining myself very well, and I do not want to sound like a whiner. But I do miss having people look up to me and respect my knowledge base. Here, I am not an authority on anything. So I just assign myself the role of Class Clown (my fallback position in most any situation if I can't be Best Student) when we are in groups and it seems to work fine. I guess in some ways I just need to find a new identity for myself, an identity that does not revolve around my work. Or find another sort of work. I would love to write a book, but I can't seem to get started. There are a million books of sailing memoirs, many with far better adventures than I have had. And if I am going to write something, I want it to be something people in general would actually want to read. It's not like I don't have enough time on my hands to do that. Hemingway said the way to start is to write one true sentence. I suppose I could do that.
“I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish… You see, it is difficult to get all which I want. And then when I do not succeed I get mad with anger.” (Simone de Beauvoir)
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Little Trips
The next trip we took was last week - we just took three days and went to El Tunco,which is a tiny little town right on the ocean. It is famous for having the best surf breaks in El Salvador and possibly in Central America. Obviously we don't surf, but it was fun to get away and just enjoy someplace new.
We stayed in two different hotels, both of which were right on the beach. The first room was, ironically enough, shaped like a ship, with the bed being like the vee berth. The staff referred to it as the "Titanic Room." It was nice enough, but the sink didn't work and had not worked for a long time as best as we could tell. So if you wanted to brush your teeth or get a drink, you needed to use the shower. I was not impressed, especially as the room was not cheap. The next place was better and less money. But I must say the staff at the first place was great. They were friendly and welcoming and that is pretty important and helps me to overlook a lot of other, smaller, issues.
Here are some pictures we took - when the last camera broke in Honduras, Mike fixed an old one after we got home. So we did get to take some here. This is the beach in front of our first room.
We stayed in two different hotels, both of which were right on the beach. The first room was, ironically enough, shaped like a ship, with the bed being like the vee berth. The staff referred to it as the "Titanic Room." It was nice enough, but the sink didn't work and had not worked for a long time as best as we could tell. So if you wanted to brush your teeth or get a drink, you needed to use the shower. I was not impressed, especially as the room was not cheap. The next place was better and less money. But I must say the staff at the first place was great. They were friendly and welcoming and that is pretty important and helps me to overlook a lot of other, smaller, issues.
Here are some pictures we took - when the last camera broke in Honduras, Mike fixed an old one after we got home. So we did get to take some here. This is the beach in front of our first room.
Here is one of the main streets in El Tunco. This is what it looks like in most of the
small places here in El Salvador.
This is one of the little restaurants that is found along the roadsides here in El Salvador. They have good food and the ambiance cannot be beat.
And here is a lovely wooden carving with a pig on top. I love pigs. Everyone who knows me well knows that.
But nothing will ever beat the real thing. Since land is at a premium, livestock is often tethered by the roadside.
The next trip we take was supposed to happen in five days, but it is looking like we will have to wait. We ordered some cameras a couple of weeks ago, and we can't go until they arrive. Because we will likely have to pay some duty on them, they will end up at customs at the main post office in San Salvador. I don't want to run the risk of the stuff coming while we are gone and getting sent back or some other hassle. As it is, getting this stuff through customs is a tedious, time consuming process, with a lot of "hurry up and wait" going on. But they are always really nice and polite, so it is not the end of the world. Just one of those "be sure to bring a book" things. Anyway, we don't mind waiting because we want to have the cameras with us when we head to Guatemala and Belize. We should be there for about three weeks to a month, and I have no desire to set a schedule, I want us to be really free to just go with whatever comes up. This time we will not have a driver. No limitations!
Here is an example of the dialogue in the car between me, Mike and Ernesto as we rode along through the beautiful jungles of Honduras:
Mike: "Cool! Look at that bird! What kind is it?"
Kate: "That is the prettiest waterfall I have ever seen! Amazing!"
Ernesto: "Look! That's where they wash the trucks!"
Just for the record, I am sitting on the boat doing this. The refrigerator and freezer are on, there is a fan on, and this computer is on. And because of our solar panels and wind generator, there is still almost 6 amps coming in to the system, despite all this power being used.
But as I say that, I can see the little diode on my internet stick starting to flicker, which means I could lose my connection. So I will sign off now.
"The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them." (Maya Angelou)
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
More Honduras and Other Things
OK, I promised Iwould get my act together and report on Honduras so here it is. It was wonderful in every way.
When we left the mainland for Roatan, we took a ferry. I love riding on boats when I have no responsibility for them. Mike and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride - it was a beautiful day, but I can't say the same for the rest of the passengers. We noticed the staff was handing our Dramamine at the time of ticket purchase, and as soon as the boat left the dock they started handing out barf bags. (I took one thinking it was just a handy plastic bag. Mike said "Are you planning to be sick? I had no idea what he was talking about, at least for a few minutes.) It was a very calm ride, actually - very smooth. But all of a sudden people started getting sick right and left. I felt sorry for them (I have been really seasick and it is no fun at all), but at the same time it was funny. I think I felt sorrier for the staff. Interestingly, the ride back was actually much rougher, and there was no Dramamine, no barf bags, and no one got sick. The cab driver who took us to the dock told me that the ride to Roatan had everyone sick but the ride back did not. He always flew there but took the ferry back for that reason. Neither Mike nor I could figure out why. Interesting phenomena.
After we left Roatan, we spent three days at an eco-lodge in the La Ceiba area. We had to take a dirt road for about 30 minutes, and ended up in the middle of the jungle. We slept in a cabin that was screened in on three sides, and it was built on a hill giving the impression that you are sleeping in a tree house. Everything in the room - the bed, desk, chairs - were made by hand by the owner of the place. Mike described it as "rustic but refined." There were ceiling fans but no AC, and that worked out just fine. We were very comfortable. It rained at night, with thunder and lightning. It was wonderfully cozy to lie there and listen to it - like you are right in it but not getting wet. At other times there was thunder and lightning, but no rain. We sat in our room just listening with nothing but candle light. The jungle all around us seemed to be totally alive in every possible way. There were screeching insects all night long, and at daybreak the birds began to come out. We saw so many incredible birds with beautiful colorful plumage. I also saw an agouti - which looks like an extremely large mouse. They are sort of cute with mousy faces and nice golden brown fur with furry tails. I have been told I was lucky to get to see one as they are very shy. They are about the size of a raccoon. (Raccoon is Mapache in Spanish).
We went on several adventures while we were there. First, we went white water rafting. I have never done anything like that before. The rapids went from Class one to Class four. I am not sure what that all means, but some of the rapids we went over were scary as hell. There were huge boulders with a narrow line of water running between them, and you had to negotiate this really small looking channel. I was so scared at first that I thought I was going to throw up. But after we went down the first two drops, I found out what it felt like, and wasn't scared any more. The rest of the trip was just plain fun and thrilling as can be imagined. It was just me, Mike, and a guide in the raft, with another guide riding shotgun in a kayak. Because the water level was not appropriate for the usual trip, we also went what they called "Bouldering" which entailed climbing up the boulders along the river (named Rio Cangrejo, which means river of crabs. We did not see any crabs). It was hard because I have short legs and the boulders were literally huge. We then jumped from these high boulders into the river. We learned about swimming with and against currents, and how to use the current to your advantage. I have spent a good portion of my life engaged in water-related activities, but this was by far one of the most dramatic things I have ever done. I had such a great time! One of our guides was Irish and the other was a New Zealander. (He was not real happy when I mistook him for an Aussie. I did apologise.) The owner of the place, by the way, was a German.
The next day we went on a trail ride - on horseback! Now this was a big deal. I love to ride but I have never been able to get Mike to do it We did go once in Ensenada, with my sister and her kids when they came to visit us. But it was one of those kind of sad arrangements one so often sees in Mexico, with beat down looking horses and gear that doesn't really work very well. Here, the horses were very well cared for, and the tack was in great shape. Mike is (I can now say was) afraid of horses anyway. But he agreed to do this because he knew how much I wanted to do it. And what a raging success it was! Mike had a horse named Nugget. He was well trained, had a smooth gait, and completely changed Mike's feelings about horses. He discovered how much fun it is to ride on a trail instead of hiking - you can look around more because you don't have to spend so much time looking at your feet to make sure you don't trip over something. That is the horse's job. We rode on jungle paths, fording the river a couple of times. We stopped at a swimming hole, had lunch, and swam in the river yet again. While playing around in the water, I noticed that if you stood really still, these little tiny fish came up and nibbled at my legs. It did not hurt at all - it just felt like something touching you gently, like a feather brushing against your thigh. But then I felt a sharp poke - like a pin - and discovered I had been bitten by a small catfish! So that put an end to being fish bait for me. It is the first time I have been bitten by a fish. Mike did not believe me until it happened to him a few minutes later. It is wonderful to swim in fresh water for a change - I have been swimming in salt water now for months and months, not counting a few swimming pools.
I suppose I should interject here and tell you all about our driver. Ernesto is in his mid thirties and actually grew up in the US. He came back to El Salvador after getting divorced and (I suspect) fleeing child support obligations. We have been using him to get to San Salvador and back since we got here, and have also had him take us on some local expeditions in El Salvador - the volcanoes, the local ruins, and some other places. Ernesto is a mess. but I like him, child support issues not withstanding. However, he can be irritating. He never, ever, shuts up. Mike makes me sit in the front because he can't stand the jabbering. I know every detail about every car Ernesto has ever owned. I know his entire life story. He is a terrible gossip, and reports every detail of every conversation the other cruisers have when they ride with him. (We had a joke that "what happens in Honduras stays in Honduras" which he took to mean I wouldn't blab on him.) I know just about everything that happens with everyone else when they ride into San Salvador with him. Anyway, he decided to make a nice music mix for us all to listen to while we were driving, and told me it was full of oldies, which he thought we would like. I said yes, we love oldies. however, his idea of oldies and my idea of oldies are two different things entirely - we were treated to god awful 80s music the whole trip. It was actually pretty funny. There is a twenty year difference in our ages - and his oldies represent for me "the day the music died."
We had a difficult time convincing Ernesto that this was NOT a vacation for the three of us. We did take him with us on some stuff, but he was not with us on Roatan or in the jungle. He did stay with us at Copan, and we took him with us on the ruins tour. He seemed pretty bored by that - probably because there were no cars to look at and discuss. Oh - and we almost drowned him at one point. We had taken a tour of one of the national parks in Honduras and took him with us. Part of it was a jungle hike (where we saw and heard howler monkeys), and part was a boat ride on the Caribbean to a part of the park accessible only by water. When we got close to shore, the tour guide said that anyone who wanted to could take a snorkel and mask and swim the rest of the way. It was a couple hundred yards (I think, I am a bad estimator) so of course Mike and I jumped in. Ernesto piles out right after us, and off goes the boat with the guide and the rest of the tourists. However, it soon became evident that not only does Ernesto have no idea what to do with snorkel equipment, he can barely swim. He immediately started to panic and thrash about in the water. We did not want to get too close to him, for fear he would drag us under, so we kept talking to him, trying to get him to turn over and float. Since (like me and Mike) he is on the plump side, he would float like a cork if he'd only calm down. So we had to baby him back to shore. I asked him what he was thinking and he said he was a good swimmer but had not done it in ten years.
The three of us (!) then proceeded to the biggest lake in Honduras, Lago de Yojoa. We stayed at a bed and breakfast that doubled as a micro brewery. They had four or five different beers, and only one was any good, but they hit it out of the park with that one. The owner was a young American guy. We did not have a reservation, so they kind of stuck us where ever they could. The first night, Mike and I got a really nice cabin. Ernesto got a room (He was bummed that there was no TV or AC) and unfortunately, it rained hard in the night and flooded his room! His clothes in his suitcase got soaked. But the staff washed and dried them and comped him for the room. Again, the bird life here was incredible. the next two nights Mike and I had to change rooms as someone had a reservation, so we ended up in a tiny room with a shared bathroom. I have never been willing to stay at any hostel type places because I did not want to share a bathroom with strangers. I am old and I have to get up in the night. But you know what? It worked out fine! The bathroom was really clean, and it had a lock on the door so no one could walk in on you when you were on the toilet (my biggest fear!). I will have no problems with that sort of thing again.
While at the lake we saw some ruins from the Lenca Indians. They were similar to the Mayan ruins, but had their own interesting twist. We then went on a hike to the largest waterfall in Honduras, with the understanding we could actually hike behind the waterfall. Now I have done this before, in Hawaii. The way it was there, you went behind the waterfall and walked along this really really narrow path and stood behind he falls. it was scary because it was so high up and so narrow. That was what I was expecting this time. This, however, was very different.
We had to hike through the falls. And it was not easy. It would never have been allowed in the US, let alone be an attraction with a guide. It was slippery, and you had to keep your head down, eyes closed, and breathe (with great difficulty) through your mouth. We all held hands, and the guide pulled us through. The guide had Mike's hand, Mike had Ernesto, and Ernesto had me. All of a sudden, when we were in the middle of this raging torrent of water, Ernesto says to me "We have to go back. I dropped Mike's hand." So we went back to this little overhang. I was panicked! I thought Mike and the guide had gone over the side What to do? Who to call? This is Honduras, for heavens sakes, there is no one to call. But then the guide came out from under the water, and offered to lead us the rest of the way, to where Mike was waiting. We elected to wait where we were. As it turned out, Mike told me the force of the water and broken their hands apart. Again, it was a thrilling and terrifying experience. The water fall was 40 meters (about 120 feet) high. We were close to the top.
In Central America, a lot of food sales goes on along the sides of the highways. We stopped and got a bag of lychee fruit at one point, and passed little stand after little stand selling fish hanging from the ceiling of the place. I am totally pissed off that we did not have a camera for this. We also bought corn on the cob seasoned with salt and chili sauce, tamales, and little plastic bags containing ice, water, and coconut juice. In a town where we stayed near Tegucigalpa (Tegoos to the locals) we ate at a restaurant that had been built and in constant use since 1850. Only tourists eat there because the locals believe it is haunted.
Another interesting thing about El Salvador and Honduras (I haven't been anywhere else yet) is their buses. All the buses are old school buses made by Bluebird. Most of them are repainted in bright colors, with pictures and whatnot painted on them. Sometimes you see one that is still yellow and nt yet decorated. I saw one that still had the old school district printed on it - "Stevens Point Public Schools." Stevens Point is a reasonably small town in Wisconsin. Small world!!
Tegucigalpa is a bustling, smelly, crowded, hectic, noisy city. It is similar to San Salvador, in that there are old parts and new parts. The old part has a huge market, with stall ofter stall of everything you can imagine. We drove back to El Salvador after dark in the pouring rain (Something I would not do if we were driving) and sadly hit a dog that ran out in front of us. We did not stop. It was a goner for sure. I have never had that happen and it was disturbing, even though there was nothing we could have done to avoid it. There is no dearth of stray dogs running everywhere, and some of them have no car sense or street smarts. The trip ended with a shakedown by the Honduran cops just before we got to the border - they were giving Ernesto a hard time, and the matter was resolved by the quiet transfer of 100 lempiras, which is about five bucks. When we got to the border, the Salvadoran cops asked if we had been shaken down and we said yes. They ruefully told us this was an on-going problem, nothing to be done. I figure we can live with the five bucks. That was actually down from the 1000 lempiras (fifty bucks) they originally wanted. So we made it back, the boat handled our absence fine.
So - that was Honduras and I loved it. There is more to tell, but I have to stop now and start breakfast. More to come.
"Education is the capacity to confront the situations posed by life." (Henrik Ibsen)
When we left the mainland for Roatan, we took a ferry. I love riding on boats when I have no responsibility for them. Mike and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride - it was a beautiful day, but I can't say the same for the rest of the passengers. We noticed the staff was handing our Dramamine at the time of ticket purchase, and as soon as the boat left the dock they started handing out barf bags. (I took one thinking it was just a handy plastic bag. Mike said "Are you planning to be sick? I had no idea what he was talking about, at least for a few minutes.) It was a very calm ride, actually - very smooth. But all of a sudden people started getting sick right and left. I felt sorry for them (I have been really seasick and it is no fun at all), but at the same time it was funny. I think I felt sorrier for the staff. Interestingly, the ride back was actually much rougher, and there was no Dramamine, no barf bags, and no one got sick. The cab driver who took us to the dock told me that the ride to Roatan had everyone sick but the ride back did not. He always flew there but took the ferry back for that reason. Neither Mike nor I could figure out why. Interesting phenomena.
After we left Roatan, we spent three days at an eco-lodge in the La Ceiba area. We had to take a dirt road for about 30 minutes, and ended up in the middle of the jungle. We slept in a cabin that was screened in on three sides, and it was built on a hill giving the impression that you are sleeping in a tree house. Everything in the room - the bed, desk, chairs - were made by hand by the owner of the place. Mike described it as "rustic but refined." There were ceiling fans but no AC, and that worked out just fine. We were very comfortable. It rained at night, with thunder and lightning. It was wonderfully cozy to lie there and listen to it - like you are right in it but not getting wet. At other times there was thunder and lightning, but no rain. We sat in our room just listening with nothing but candle light. The jungle all around us seemed to be totally alive in every possible way. There were screeching insects all night long, and at daybreak the birds began to come out. We saw so many incredible birds with beautiful colorful plumage. I also saw an agouti - which looks like an extremely large mouse. They are sort of cute with mousy faces and nice golden brown fur with furry tails. I have been told I was lucky to get to see one as they are very shy. They are about the size of a raccoon. (Raccoon is Mapache in Spanish).
We went on several adventures while we were there. First, we went white water rafting. I have never done anything like that before. The rapids went from Class one to Class four. I am not sure what that all means, but some of the rapids we went over were scary as hell. There were huge boulders with a narrow line of water running between them, and you had to negotiate this really small looking channel. I was so scared at first that I thought I was going to throw up. But after we went down the first two drops, I found out what it felt like, and wasn't scared any more. The rest of the trip was just plain fun and thrilling as can be imagined. It was just me, Mike, and a guide in the raft, with another guide riding shotgun in a kayak. Because the water level was not appropriate for the usual trip, we also went what they called "Bouldering" which entailed climbing up the boulders along the river (named Rio Cangrejo, which means river of crabs. We did not see any crabs). It was hard because I have short legs and the boulders were literally huge. We then jumped from these high boulders into the river. We learned about swimming with and against currents, and how to use the current to your advantage. I have spent a good portion of my life engaged in water-related activities, but this was by far one of the most dramatic things I have ever done. I had such a great time! One of our guides was Irish and the other was a New Zealander. (He was not real happy when I mistook him for an Aussie. I did apologise.) The owner of the place, by the way, was a German.
The next day we went on a trail ride - on horseback! Now this was a big deal. I love to ride but I have never been able to get Mike to do it We did go once in Ensenada, with my sister and her kids when they came to visit us. But it was one of those kind of sad arrangements one so often sees in Mexico, with beat down looking horses and gear that doesn't really work very well. Here, the horses were very well cared for, and the tack was in great shape. Mike is (I can now say was) afraid of horses anyway. But he agreed to do this because he knew how much I wanted to do it. And what a raging success it was! Mike had a horse named Nugget. He was well trained, had a smooth gait, and completely changed Mike's feelings about horses. He discovered how much fun it is to ride on a trail instead of hiking - you can look around more because you don't have to spend so much time looking at your feet to make sure you don't trip over something. That is the horse's job. We rode on jungle paths, fording the river a couple of times. We stopped at a swimming hole, had lunch, and swam in the river yet again. While playing around in the water, I noticed that if you stood really still, these little tiny fish came up and nibbled at my legs. It did not hurt at all - it just felt like something touching you gently, like a feather brushing against your thigh. But then I felt a sharp poke - like a pin - and discovered I had been bitten by a small catfish! So that put an end to being fish bait for me. It is the first time I have been bitten by a fish. Mike did not believe me until it happened to him a few minutes later. It is wonderful to swim in fresh water for a change - I have been swimming in salt water now for months and months, not counting a few swimming pools.
I suppose I should interject here and tell you all about our driver. Ernesto is in his mid thirties and actually grew up in the US. He came back to El Salvador after getting divorced and (I suspect) fleeing child support obligations. We have been using him to get to San Salvador and back since we got here, and have also had him take us on some local expeditions in El Salvador - the volcanoes, the local ruins, and some other places. Ernesto is a mess. but I like him, child support issues not withstanding. However, he can be irritating. He never, ever, shuts up. Mike makes me sit in the front because he can't stand the jabbering. I know every detail about every car Ernesto has ever owned. I know his entire life story. He is a terrible gossip, and reports every detail of every conversation the other cruisers have when they ride with him. (We had a joke that "what happens in Honduras stays in Honduras" which he took to mean I wouldn't blab on him.) I know just about everything that happens with everyone else when they ride into San Salvador with him. Anyway, he decided to make a nice music mix for us all to listen to while we were driving, and told me it was full of oldies, which he thought we would like. I said yes, we love oldies. however, his idea of oldies and my idea of oldies are two different things entirely - we were treated to god awful 80s music the whole trip. It was actually pretty funny. There is a twenty year difference in our ages - and his oldies represent for me "the day the music died."
We had a difficult time convincing Ernesto that this was NOT a vacation for the three of us. We did take him with us on some stuff, but he was not with us on Roatan or in the jungle. He did stay with us at Copan, and we took him with us on the ruins tour. He seemed pretty bored by that - probably because there were no cars to look at and discuss. Oh - and we almost drowned him at one point. We had taken a tour of one of the national parks in Honduras and took him with us. Part of it was a jungle hike (where we saw and heard howler monkeys), and part was a boat ride on the Caribbean to a part of the park accessible only by water. When we got close to shore, the tour guide said that anyone who wanted to could take a snorkel and mask and swim the rest of the way. It was a couple hundred yards (I think, I am a bad estimator) so of course Mike and I jumped in. Ernesto piles out right after us, and off goes the boat with the guide and the rest of the tourists. However, it soon became evident that not only does Ernesto have no idea what to do with snorkel equipment, he can barely swim. He immediately started to panic and thrash about in the water. We did not want to get too close to him, for fear he would drag us under, so we kept talking to him, trying to get him to turn over and float. Since (like me and Mike) he is on the plump side, he would float like a cork if he'd only calm down. So we had to baby him back to shore. I asked him what he was thinking and he said he was a good swimmer but had not done it in ten years.
The three of us (!) then proceeded to the biggest lake in Honduras, Lago de Yojoa. We stayed at a bed and breakfast that doubled as a micro brewery. They had four or five different beers, and only one was any good, but they hit it out of the park with that one. The owner was a young American guy. We did not have a reservation, so they kind of stuck us where ever they could. The first night, Mike and I got a really nice cabin. Ernesto got a room (He was bummed that there was no TV or AC) and unfortunately, it rained hard in the night and flooded his room! His clothes in his suitcase got soaked. But the staff washed and dried them and comped him for the room. Again, the bird life here was incredible. the next two nights Mike and I had to change rooms as someone had a reservation, so we ended up in a tiny room with a shared bathroom. I have never been willing to stay at any hostel type places because I did not want to share a bathroom with strangers. I am old and I have to get up in the night. But you know what? It worked out fine! The bathroom was really clean, and it had a lock on the door so no one could walk in on you when you were on the toilet (my biggest fear!). I will have no problems with that sort of thing again.
While at the lake we saw some ruins from the Lenca Indians. They were similar to the Mayan ruins, but had their own interesting twist. We then went on a hike to the largest waterfall in Honduras, with the understanding we could actually hike behind the waterfall. Now I have done this before, in Hawaii. The way it was there, you went behind the waterfall and walked along this really really narrow path and stood behind he falls. it was scary because it was so high up and so narrow. That was what I was expecting this time. This, however, was very different.
We had to hike through the falls. And it was not easy. It would never have been allowed in the US, let alone be an attraction with a guide. It was slippery, and you had to keep your head down, eyes closed, and breathe (with great difficulty) through your mouth. We all held hands, and the guide pulled us through. The guide had Mike's hand, Mike had Ernesto, and Ernesto had me. All of a sudden, when we were in the middle of this raging torrent of water, Ernesto says to me "We have to go back. I dropped Mike's hand." So we went back to this little overhang. I was panicked! I thought Mike and the guide had gone over the side What to do? Who to call? This is Honduras, for heavens sakes, there is no one to call. But then the guide came out from under the water, and offered to lead us the rest of the way, to where Mike was waiting. We elected to wait where we were. As it turned out, Mike told me the force of the water and broken their hands apart. Again, it was a thrilling and terrifying experience. The water fall was 40 meters (about 120 feet) high. We were close to the top.
In Central America, a lot of food sales goes on along the sides of the highways. We stopped and got a bag of lychee fruit at one point, and passed little stand after little stand selling fish hanging from the ceiling of the place. I am totally pissed off that we did not have a camera for this. We also bought corn on the cob seasoned with salt and chili sauce, tamales, and little plastic bags containing ice, water, and coconut juice. In a town where we stayed near Tegucigalpa (Tegoos to the locals) we ate at a restaurant that had been built and in constant use since 1850. Only tourists eat there because the locals believe it is haunted.
Another interesting thing about El Salvador and Honduras (I haven't been anywhere else yet) is their buses. All the buses are old school buses made by Bluebird. Most of them are repainted in bright colors, with pictures and whatnot painted on them. Sometimes you see one that is still yellow and nt yet decorated. I saw one that still had the old school district printed on it - "Stevens Point Public Schools." Stevens Point is a reasonably small town in Wisconsin. Small world!!
Tegucigalpa is a bustling, smelly, crowded, hectic, noisy city. It is similar to San Salvador, in that there are old parts and new parts. The old part has a huge market, with stall ofter stall of everything you can imagine. We drove back to El Salvador after dark in the pouring rain (Something I would not do if we were driving) and sadly hit a dog that ran out in front of us. We did not stop. It was a goner for sure. I have never had that happen and it was disturbing, even though there was nothing we could have done to avoid it. There is no dearth of stray dogs running everywhere, and some of them have no car sense or street smarts. The trip ended with a shakedown by the Honduran cops just before we got to the border - they were giving Ernesto a hard time, and the matter was resolved by the quiet transfer of 100 lempiras, which is about five bucks. When we got to the border, the Salvadoran cops asked if we had been shaken down and we said yes. They ruefully told us this was an on-going problem, nothing to be done. I figure we can live with the five bucks. That was actually down from the 1000 lempiras (fifty bucks) they originally wanted. So we made it back, the boat handled our absence fine.
So - that was Honduras and I loved it. There is more to tell, but I have to stop now and start breakfast. More to come.
"Education is the capacity to confront the situations posed by life." (Henrik Ibsen)
Friday, September 7, 2012
Post-Conflict Developing Nation
I had planned to spend this post describing more of our vacation in Honduras. And eventually I will. But I am going to do something different instead.
I just finished reading a book by Joan Didion (one of my favorites even when I don't quite understand what she is trying to tell me) called "Salvador." It is about a trip she took here in the early 80s, when the civil war was going strong. She visited in 1981 and 82, and wrote the book in 82. The war lasted until a peace accord was signed in 1992. So all the things she wrote about happened over 30 years ago.
She talks about being in San Salvador when it had been a city under siege for two years already. The press did not even bother to mention an evening when seven dead bodies were discovered in the city - it wasn't enough dead bodies to warrant mention in the papers. People talked about being "disappeared" and never heard from again, and there were death squads that carried out tons of grisly murders. No one went out at night, and the place was an armed camp, with everything surrounded by high cement walls, concertina wire, electrified fences, and armed security. She talked of a sense of foreboding, of dread, and never feeling safe.
I go to San Salvador all the time. It still looks a lot like that - the concertina wire, the fencing, and of course, the armed security. But there is no feeling of dread, or fear, or foreboding. In fact, everyone seems to be pretty cheerful. As tourists, we are constantly told not to walk around at night in any part of the city, not to wander the central market, hold close to your handbag, and so on and so on. I have been to the central market, and it isn't any different than the markets in Mexico or even Taiwan, for that matter. I saw pickpockets in Amsterdam, that is just something that happens in any big city.
Now I have no intention of minimizing the really serious problem they have here with gang violence. They are losing too many young men and boys to it, and there are neighborhoods that exist in kind of a war zone because of it. We have heard about shakedowns and protection rackets, inter-gang killings, and stuff like that. I have noticed some political looking graffiti - but I can't understand most of it and none of our English peaking drivers are able or willing to translate it. So things are by no means perfect here. There are lots of people who seem to be pretty poor, especially by US standards. They live in cinder block houses, with outdoor kitchens and no indoor plumbing, and sometimes dirt floors. They eke out a living selling food and produce by the side of the highway, or driving cabs, or farming. But there is a sense of optimism, at least among the people we run into.
I think it is hard as a tourist to get a good idea of what changed in this country after the war. Everyone I talk to is pretty vague as to exactly what was accomplished and how people are better off. Apparently there was some land reform. Supposedly elections are now free. All these different police and security agencies have been abolished in favor of one national security agency. And of course, there are no more death squads and no"disappearing" of people in the middle of the night. It seems, however, like everyone finally got tired of fighting and decided to end it, giving the opposition parties a voice in the government and and granting amnesty to all those accused of war crimes. I haven't been able to find out much else.
I did notice that El Salvador seems to be better off economically than Honduras was. And the people here do seem to be content, albeit unhappy about the general state of the economy, just as those in the US and Europe and Mexico are. But we see lots of "Help Wanted" signs here, just as we did in Mexico. We have met several Salvadorans who are US citizens, but have returned to El Salvador for many different reasons - ranging from bad divorces to running a family business to starting a new life where they actually find more opportunity, even if the standard of living is lower.
So I guess my point of all this is that even though things were horribly grim 30 years ago, it did get better. Maybe lessons were learned. Maybe people aren't so bound by ideology, but rather by common sense, and a desire for everyone to have the best life possible for them. I have learned that revolutions have a tendency to turn on themselves at some point, and act like a snake eating its own tail. It is an exciting time to be here.
"Let the world change you and you can change the world." (Ernesto "Che" Guevara)
I just finished reading a book by Joan Didion (one of my favorites even when I don't quite understand what she is trying to tell me) called "Salvador." It is about a trip she took here in the early 80s, when the civil war was going strong. She visited in 1981 and 82, and wrote the book in 82. The war lasted until a peace accord was signed in 1992. So all the things she wrote about happened over 30 years ago.
She talks about being in San Salvador when it had been a city under siege for two years already. The press did not even bother to mention an evening when seven dead bodies were discovered in the city - it wasn't enough dead bodies to warrant mention in the papers. People talked about being "disappeared" and never heard from again, and there were death squads that carried out tons of grisly murders. No one went out at night, and the place was an armed camp, with everything surrounded by high cement walls, concertina wire, electrified fences, and armed security. She talked of a sense of foreboding, of dread, and never feeling safe.
I go to San Salvador all the time. It still looks a lot like that - the concertina wire, the fencing, and of course, the armed security. But there is no feeling of dread, or fear, or foreboding. In fact, everyone seems to be pretty cheerful. As tourists, we are constantly told not to walk around at night in any part of the city, not to wander the central market, hold close to your handbag, and so on and so on. I have been to the central market, and it isn't any different than the markets in Mexico or even Taiwan, for that matter. I saw pickpockets in Amsterdam, that is just something that happens in any big city.
Now I have no intention of minimizing the really serious problem they have here with gang violence. They are losing too many young men and boys to it, and there are neighborhoods that exist in kind of a war zone because of it. We have heard about shakedowns and protection rackets, inter-gang killings, and stuff like that. I have noticed some political looking graffiti - but I can't understand most of it and none of our English peaking drivers are able or willing to translate it. So things are by no means perfect here. There are lots of people who seem to be pretty poor, especially by US standards. They live in cinder block houses, with outdoor kitchens and no indoor plumbing, and sometimes dirt floors. They eke out a living selling food and produce by the side of the highway, or driving cabs, or farming. But there is a sense of optimism, at least among the people we run into.
I think it is hard as a tourist to get a good idea of what changed in this country after the war. Everyone I talk to is pretty vague as to exactly what was accomplished and how people are better off. Apparently there was some land reform. Supposedly elections are now free. All these different police and security agencies have been abolished in favor of one national security agency. And of course, there are no more death squads and no"disappearing" of people in the middle of the night. It seems, however, like everyone finally got tired of fighting and decided to end it, giving the opposition parties a voice in the government and and granting amnesty to all those accused of war crimes. I haven't been able to find out much else.
I did notice that El Salvador seems to be better off economically than Honduras was. And the people here do seem to be content, albeit unhappy about the general state of the economy, just as those in the US and Europe and Mexico are. But we see lots of "Help Wanted" signs here, just as we did in Mexico. We have met several Salvadorans who are US citizens, but have returned to El Salvador for many different reasons - ranging from bad divorces to running a family business to starting a new life where they actually find more opportunity, even if the standard of living is lower.
So I guess my point of all this is that even though things were horribly grim 30 years ago, it did get better. Maybe lessons were learned. Maybe people aren't so bound by ideology, but rather by common sense, and a desire for everyone to have the best life possible for them. I have learned that revolutions have a tendency to turn on themselves at some point, and act like a snake eating its own tail. It is an exciting time to be here.
"Let the world change you and you can change the world." (Ernesto "Che" Guevara)
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