Thursday, August 18, 2011

Trip to Honduras


It’s August which means it’s the height of Guatemala’s rainy season. Tired of the endless showers and losing my clothes to the unstoppable mold I decided it was time for a vacation so I packed my bag and split for sunnier weather in neighboring Honduras.

My destination was Roatan, one of Honduras’s three Bay Islands. Back in March I met a Canadian backpacker named Mike who was traveling through Central America and we made a plan to meet up on the island. Well Mike was nearing the end of his travels and so by the time I got to Roatan we only had a couple of days together so my trip was basically a solo one. I have always wanted to go scuba diving and the Bay Islands are at the tail end of the second largest barrier reef in the world. The goal was to get my Open Water diving Certification and just enjoy some time in the sun on the islands beautiful beaches.
I wanted get to Roatan as quickly as possible but I wouldn’t be able to make it all the way there in one day. I left Antigua at 3:30 a.m. aboard a seriously luxurious bus that took my across the border and eventually all the way to La Ceiba, Honduras where I would pass the night and the next morning catch the first ferry to Roatan. I crossed the border no problem and added Honduras to my list of countries visited. Including the U.S. that makes 11. Honduras is the 5th Central American country I’ve visited. The only two I’m missing on the isthmus are Belize and El Salvador and they will be visited in due time. I changed currencies at the border from Quetzales to Lempiras. It’s about 18 Lemps to the dollar.
After 14 hours of traveling I arrived exhausted in La Ceiba. Someone had advised me to skip staying in La Ceiba (Honduras’s third largest city) and stay at a hotel right next to the ferry. I ended up spending about $20 for a room that night which was more than I had hoped to spend. I cracked open a beer in the humid night air and settled into my room. One of the pluses was that it had a television and it had been forever since I’d watched TV so I was able to catch up with the news. The rain began to pour (the only time during my trip) and after spending an amusing 5 minutes watching a Benny Hinn telemercial I landed on Al Jazeera (can’t believe they had that channel) and watched an interesting special about a female Arabic rapper before I passed out.

I awoke early the next morning, shaved, packed my bag, dropped my key at the reception and walked out into a beautiful sunny day. About 7,000 ft above La Ceiba towered the Pico Bonito, a beautiful pointed mountain (it’s all in the name) that’s worth looking up pictures of. It couldn’t have been a prettier day. The hotel was right next to the port so it was a quick walk to the ferry. I piled in line with excited, chattering, Hondurans who were beach bound. There are three Bay Islands: Utila, Roatan, and Guanaja. Utila is easily the cheapest option and super popular with the backpacker crowd and indeed I could see that its ferry was swarming with travelers. Guanaja is fairly undeveloped and therefore a pricier option. Its ferry departs from a different town. Roatan where I was headed is the largest and most populated of the islands. It has become a popular vacation destination for the growing Honduran upper-class as well as European travelers who stay at the islands numerous resorts but there are also backpacker budget options, most notably West End which was where I would be staying. I chose Roatan because my buddy Mike was there and he had been to Utila earlier in his travels and advised me that the reef was in better shape on Roatan and that the island was quieter but still had a nice night life. Plus Utila doesn’t have much beach while Roatan has some spectacular ones.
Although it’s only about 50km off the coast, Roatan is much more part of the Caribbean than it is part of Honduras. I was surprised to discover that Spanish is the second language on the island. Like the majority of the Caribbean, the island was populated by ex-slaves, Black Caribs known as Caracoles. I guess I would describe their primary language as some kind of English Creole. It’s an interesting version of English. They speak quickly and many times it sounds as though they are actually singing a sentence. I very much enjoyed listening to them talk, especially the woman who ran a food stand right next to the dive shop. The Spanish influence is a recent development as Ladinos from the mainland have arrived in the past 10 years finding work as taxi drivers and security guards.

The ferry ride took about an hour and a half and after picking up my pack from the baggage drop, which was complete chaos, I caught a cab to West End. On the way we passed a gas station and there was a Bojangles. It blew my mind. North Carolina’s very own, beloved chicken fast food restaurant which is found in only a handful of States has a location on an island in Honduras. Must be the work of some franchisee who has a house on the island. I wanted to stop sooo badly but we continued on. The cab dropped me off at the beautiful beach of Half Moon Bay in West End which is where I would be spending my vacation. I had made reservations to stay and complete my Open Water Certification with Coconut Tree Divers and there they were right in front of the bay. I was greeted by a super friendly British woman who runs the dive shop and she led me to the dorm where I would be staying. I had one roommate and he was Dutch, of course. His name was Ruben and he was from Rotterdam. He had spent the past three weeks in Boston studying medicine at the Harvard Summer School and decided to cap off his time abroad with a trip to Central America. He too was taking the Open Water dive course. Ruben was awesome. Great guy and definitely one of the best people I have ever met traveling. I was to begin my course the following morning so the dive shop scheduled me to go snorkeling with the afternoon dive on the reef off shore.

On a brief stroll through the simple strip that is West End I ran in to my good buddy Mike. I met Mike all the way back in March when he came to Nebaj after meeting my Dutch roommates Irina and Esther while they were on vacation in Livingston. Mike stayed in Nebaj for a couple weeks and came up to my site, Salquil Grande, for a day. We had some great experiences together beekeeping and he came with me to my friend Cara’s site where I killed a pig (still need to blog about that). When I went to Antigua to meet my parents he came with and we climbed Volcano Agua. This was quite an amusing experience. Agua wasn’t a very popular hike because it was fairly strenuous and undeveloped and after being warned of thieves along the trail we proceeded with next to nothing in our pockets. The 12,500 ft Agua is a beautiful cone shaped volcano that towers above Antigua. Mike had never been that high up before so by the time we reached the top he was drunk off the altitude. We didn’t spend too long up top but in his almost drunken stupor he was absolutely hilarious on the trek down.
Back in March Mike had a nice mop of blond hair but now his head was buzzed. He had picked up lice during a brief stint working at a school in Eastern Honduras. We took some time to catch up over lunch. He told me about his travels as he had worked his way from Cancun down to Panama over the past 7 months. It was great to see him again. After spending just a short period of time together I already know he’s a lifelong friend. He was nearing the end of his Central American adventure and would have to leave in a couple of days to make his way up to Cancun to catch his flight back to British Columbia so it was a shame we didn’t get more time to hang out but I’m sure we’ll end up traveling together sometime in the future. He’s that kind of friend.

Mike came snorkeling with me on that afternoon. The rest of the boat was diving and as we started snorkeling I found myself staring at the divers as they descended. I couldn’t wait to be able to go explore down below. Snorkeling was one thing but diving was a whole different experience. I had only been snorkeling once before (in Costa Rica) and I’d never been to a coral reef so I was just blown away. The reef was amazing and teaming with life. They say you’ll see more animal life in three minutes on a coral reef than you’ll see in three hours in a forest and that is certainly true. I saw all sorts of species of fish with no idea what they were called although I would learn more over the next week. The dive spot was named Turtle Crossing and true to its name we saw a Hawksbill sea turtle. That was really cool. We followed him for a while and watched him surface and then disappear into the blue.
The couple of days I had with Mike in Roatan were great. His last night we ate at Cannibal Café and he did their burrito challenge. If you can eat three of their burritos in an hour you don’t have to pay for them. By the end he was covered in sweat and on the verge of vomiting but he ate them all in time and got a free shirt. He came by early next morning on his way out and I wished him safe travels and he was off to Mexico.


Mike struggling with the burritos.


I started my Open Water certification my second day on Roatan. This included watching videos, doing bookwork, brief training dives in the bay and then four open water dives. My first dive was absolutely fascinating. Due to scheduling I had three different trainers during my course and they were all Canadian and all super friendly. That to me made a huge difference, diving with people you are comfortable with and that are fun to hang out with after diving. The majority of the divers at Coconut Tree were completing their dive master course. Accompanying me on my dives was a man named Bob who was working toward his dive master. Bob is a great guy, very helpful and was pleased to share the diving experience with newcomers like myself.

At night Ruben and I would hang out with another fun Dutchie named Cas. Cas was from Utrecht and had been diving all over the world and was working on his dive master course there in Honduras. We had one particular crazy rum-filled night. The next morning I woke up in my clothes still drunk from the night before. The video session that morning was miserable. Between heavy chugs of water I was cursing rum as my hangover kicked in hard. My fun night came back to bit me in the ass as it aroused my sinuses. That afternoon I had my final open water dive to complete the course but on descending I felt tightness in my face, ears and nose, the squeeze. It wouldn’t go away so I discontinued the dive. I surfaced with a nose bleed and waited on the boat and delayed my dive until the following day. As much as I wanted to complete the course I figured it was best to avoid further injury. Plus it hurt like shit.

I spent the night chugging water, chewing gum and popping ibuprofen and I awoke feeling much better. My dive wasn’t scheduled until the afternoon so I swung by the shop snagged a mask, snorkel and fins and took the hour long walk along the shore down to West Bay which is a popular resort beach. With white sand and fringed with palm trees, West Bay is generally considered the islands most beautiful beach. The shore was crawling with tourists roasting in the sun, the majority of whom seemed Italian. By the time I got to the beach I was sweating bullets and getting red quickly so I grabbed a snow cone, bought some sunblock and walked past the baking Italians all the way to the end of the beach. I was told the snorkeling at there was terrific and it did not disappoint. I swam out far from shore along the reef all the way to the wall where the reef sea drops off to 100 ft. I snorkeled along the coves and dove down for a closer view of the marine life. Just off shore in the middle of the reef there is a large rock. I dove down and was swimming around the rock when I came face to face with a Great barracuda. This threw me for a shock. Things appear larger underwater but even taking that into consideration this barracuda was easily more than four feet long. He was just hanging out by himself in the channel. I knew he wasn’t anything to worry about unless I was wearing something shiny but still swimming around the bend and running right into such a menacing looking creature gave me a bit of a jolt. I backed off a little ways and watched him for a while. After snorkeling I grabbed a sandwich in a wonderfully air conditioned deli and caught a water taxi back to West End. My afternoon dive went swimmingly (how appropriate) and I finished my Open Water course. A few days earlier I decided that since I was having such a great time diving I would stick around a couple more days and get my Advanced Open Water Certification. This would consist of five specialized dives (three of my choosing) and allow me to dive deeper, down past a 100 ft. My five dives for the Advanced Open Water Course were: a wreck dive, peak performance buoyancy dive (to improve my buoyancy since that’s what diving is all about), a night dive, a deep dive, and an underwater navigational dive.

Pleased with myself for completing the Open Water course I headed to a poolside bar on the shore to catch the sunset with a beer. I took my Advanced book with me to begin reading the chapters. The bartender was a friendly Texan named Austin (from Dallas) complete with a Stevie Ray Vaughn tattoo. I knew him from the dive shop as he was taking his dive master course there. I was reading through the deep dive chapter when I overheard a discussion on grunge music Austin was having with a patron. Ever opinionated on music I put down the book, took a stool at the bar and started a conversation about music with a guy named Jeff that would continue for several hours and several beers. Jeff was a former music critic from Colorado who moved to Roatan six years ago and had a radio show on the island. We had similar music taste, The Stooges, New Order, Jimi Hendrix, Prince, Public Enemy, etc, although we disagreed on the Grateful Dead (I’m a fan; him not so much). It was a great lengthy conversation and it was nice bringing up bands and talking about how much me we like them and he told me about some of the people he had interviewed. His most amusing being GWAR (makes sense) and the people who turned out to be just incredible assholes to interview: Black Francis from Pixies and John Cale. He left me with a list of bands to check out. He disappeared to take a phone call and feeling drained by my day in the sun I decided to call it quits, strolled back to the dorm and slept hard. I had three dives the following day and if there is anything I learned it’s that diving takes it out of you. It also leaves you incredibly hungry.

The next morning I began my Advanced Open Water course with a wreck dive. This would also be a deep dive although I would do my deep dive course the following day. I was super excited for the wreck dive. There is something thrilling about diving and exploring a shipwreck as if there is buried treasure inside defended by a giant octopus (not the case). The ship was called El Aguila and since 1997 it has been resting at 100 ft below. The ship is huge and was sunk intentionally by one of the islands premier resorts in order to increase the marine life. After its sinking the island was hit by a hurricane which broke the ship in three leaving it scattered in pieces. When we got in the water it was dark and there were huge grouper down below. I couldn’t see the wreck from the surface but as we descended to 100 ft the ghostly cargo ship began to appear.


The sunken El Aguila


We swam along the wreck and through the hull.


Swim through


At one point we swam into a room on the bow. The room was dark except for a stream of light from above that pierced through a hole in the bow. We went through the room and rose up through the hole in the bow. It was awesome. Bob brought his camera with and snapped some pictures.


Bear and I at the bow

After passing the wreck we swam along the wall of the reef ascending slowly. One of the cooler things I saw underwater was a moray eel swimming. They are usually tucked away in crevices. The ugly green beast’s body flowed through the water like a snake.


The snake-like eel


After my peak performance buoyancy dive I took a nap to rest up for the night dive. I was really looking forward to it since I’d heard coral looks completely different by flashlight than sunlight. Unfortunately I got stuck with a shitty flashlight. The thing could barely cast a beam so I tried to stay close to my instructor whose light was much more powerful. The ocean is very active at night and we saw lots of lobsters and the largest crab I’ve ever seen. Its arm was the size of my forearm.
The following day we did a deep dive. This turned out to be my favorite dive. We didn’t see as much marine life as on some of the other dives but the way the reef was formed was really cool. The dive site was the aptly named Spooky Channel. The reason it’s “spooky” is the way the light penetrates. The water is green and murky and you can’t see very far in front of you. We descended down cave like formations to a maximum depth of 94 ft. I finished my course in the afternoon with an underwater navigational dive at a shipwreck (unintentionally sunk; the engine exploded on this dive boat). I didn’t get a chance to observe the sea life on this one because I had to navigate with a compass and find objects. I wasn’t especially keen on having to play with a compass down below but I turned out to really enjoy the activity. It was my 10th and final dive. Back at the shop I bought Bob and Bear a beer and settled my bill with Coconut Tree. It had been an absolutely tremendous week. After a filling chicken dinner with Cas and Mike (a different Mike than my Canadian pal), I packed my bag, crawled into my sandy sheets, and was asleep by 9.
My week on Roatan was wonderful. Diving was a new experience for me and I had a blast doing it. I’m a bit of an airhog. I need to work on getting a nice breathing pattern so I can stay down longer and that will come with experience. Also this was the first time I had really traveled alone and it was a pretty cool experience as well. I was pretty much free to do whatever I wanted and I met some great people.
I took plenty of pics, the majority of which were of the epic sunsets. It was a nice escape from dreary Guatemala.


Sunset


A 5 a.m. taxi took me to the ferry and before I knew it I was back on the mainland in La Ceiba. From there I caught that luxury bus to San Pedro Sula. Unfortunately the brief layover didn’t allow me enough time to see Honduras’s second largest city and perhaps that was a good thing because of its gang problem it’s also considered one of the most dangerous cities in Latin America (which says something). Honduras has the second highest murder rate in the world although you wouldn’t know it if you took the tourist route to the islands like I did.
I had one more thing to see in Honduras before I returned to Guatemala: the Mayan ruins of Copan. I made it to Copan Ruinas after my layover in San Pedro Sula. Copan Ruinas is a pretty little cobblestone town although incredibly touristy. I stayed got dinner with a Swiss traveler who was staying in my dorm room. He had worked his way up from Chile and his country count was at like 54 which put mine to shame (although living in Europe affords easy travel to a lot of different countries). I picked his brain on his adventures over a dinner of the most delicious baleada I had in Honduras. Baleadas is the typical Honduran dish. As is common with so many other staples of Latin gourmet it’s an arrangement of ingredients inside a tortilla. It’s basically just a large flower tortilla filled with beans, cream, cheese and whatever other ingredients you so desire. I ate them daily on Roatan but none of them compared to the one I had in Copan. This one was huge and in addition to the beans, cream, cheese there was egg, avocado and meat. Great meal and I was in bed by 8.
I wanted to get back to Antigua the next day and I found a cheaper shuttle than the bus company I had been traveling with. It left at noon which gave me plenty of time to visit the ruins. Only a short walk away from the town are the ruins of the Mayan civilization of Copan. Copan is one of the most famous Mayan ruins and is at the very southern end of the Maya civilization. While it doesn’t have the impressive pyramids of Chicen Itza in Mexico or Tikal in Guatemala (“the mother of all Mayan ruins”) Copan is famous for its sculptures and detailed engraving which has led to it being nicknamed “the Paris of the Maya world.” The civilization flourished between AD 250-900 and the stone carvings are mighty impressive. My guidebook had a map and brief history of the ruins so I decided to save money and skimp on hiring a guide. The site is located in partial jungle complete with the scarlet macaws that the Mayas so adored. I spent about a couple hours walking around the site, admiring the sculptures and structures. The ball court is the second largest discovered and it’s pretty impressive. I’m not sure exactly how the game went but I believe the participants had to keep a heavy ball in the air without using their hands and the best player was sacrificed following the game as it was considered an honor. The highlight of the ruins was the Hieroglyphic Staircase which bears the longest inscription discovered in the Maya world. The staircase was covered by a tarp which takes away from its aesthetic beauty but it’s quite striking none-the-less.


Ruins


After exploring the ruins for a while I walked back to town and packed my bag. I turned out to be the only passenger on the Copan Ruinas-Antigua noon shuttle which was awesome. Plenty of leg room unlike the buses I’m used to traveling on in Guatemala. The border crossing was super quick and for some reason it felt nice to get back into Guatemala. Just like returning home. I’d missed Samantha during my trip so I was excited to meet up with her in Antigua. We had a lovely Saturday. We saw Inception, followed it up with a delicious meal at my favorite restaurant in Antigua and then topped the night off by having a couple drinks of absinthe at a classy French restaurant. There was butcher paper over the table cloth and we ended up drawing and writing back and forth on it. The owner came over and told us he saw that the absinthe had inspired us like it did artists in France back in the 19th century. It may sound silly but I gotta say that drawing and writing to one another while getting tipsy was one of the more fun times I’ve ever had on a date.
Though I had an amazing time in Honduras I’d say that I didn’t really get to know the country. I took the tourist route from the Bay Islands to Copan and never really got to interact with the people. The Hondurans who I did encounter were incredibly friendly as much as any country I’ve been to. I regret not interacting more with the people but who knows I may make it back there someday, after all its right next door. Overall I had a wonderful and well needed vacation. So now I’m back at Salquil and it’s cold and rainy. Figures.

My night in Copan Ruinas was August 11th, marking my one year living in Guatemala. The days can be really slow but the months have fly by. Looks like I’ve only got 15 more to go. It’s odd to think about but if I were still in Togo I would be completing my service right now.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Ixhil nunchuse'

I have yet to shave this month. My overgrown facial hair and an interest in Luddism are the only things I have in common with Ted Kaczynski. Come on, I hate math. What I’m saying is that just because I haven’t shaved doesn’t mean that I’ve been a recluse this month (or been mailing bombs to people). With the exception of spending countless hours in my room obsessed with watching The Wire, it’s quite the opposite. I’ve been out and about visiting my beneficiaries and trying to get work done. Emphasis on the word “trying”. My work is rather stagnant at the moment and that doesn’t sit well with me. Part of being in the Peace Corps is having a tremendous amount of patience and constantly having to adapt and change with what’s going on. I came into this month excited with a plan of where I wanted to go with my work but as I’ve realized in the past week I’m going to have to refocus my work from making gardens (everyone has already planted) to doing more nutrition and compost work. I’ve focused a lot on composting the past few months. It’s been a hard concept to get across to the people in the towns where I work but I have had some success stories that I’m proud of. It’s a good thing that I’ll be doing nutrition work because that’s the area in which I have the least amount of expertise. In my last blog post I mentioned the rainy season was beginning. Well now it is fully upon us. That’s downpours every afternoon. The rain can be a pain with work but the good news is I’ve got beets, onions, radishes, and carrots growing in my garden. Carrots are difficult to cultivate up here but radishes grow like crazy. Just taught my host brother how to play solitaire.

Salquil Grande is 99% indigenous. The only person living there who is not Ixil Maya would be yours truly. In a way I’m special in that I am the only Peace Corps volunteer who lives in a predominantly Ixil speaking town. It has gotten to the point where it’s strange for me to hear people speak Spanish. I never hear it at my site unless people are talking to me. As a result I began taking Ixil lessons in April. I’m not the best at learning languages (i.e. my still sub-par Spanish) and Ixil is not an easy language to speak. The pronunciations are tricky and sometimes guttural but I’m enjoying learning it and little by little it will come. I don’t expect to be proficient but I would eventually like to get to the level of being able to converse. People just light up every time I say even the simplest thing like “thank you” or “goodbye”. They’re thrilled I’m at least trying to learn their language even if I butcher it and smiles from Guatemalans are always welcome. The title of this blog post is “I’m learning Ixil” in Ixil.

Monday, April 25, 2011

A rain dog at Easter

I’m staring at my blog for the first time in ages and trying to compose a narrative of all that has happened in the past few months. There’s so much to tell, I’m not sure where to begin so I think I’ll come back to those happenings in subsequent posts.

The rain is pouring outside and some old Isaac Hayes album is playing on my iTunes. It’s odd mixture, his smooth voice against the beating rain. The current downpour signals the start of the rainy season. Great. I arrived in August last year (that’s 8 months in country!) and caught the last third of the rainy season which runs from April/May – October. Last year Guatemala was deluged by the most rain in its recorded history. This leaves a lot to be expected for the upcoming wet months. Travel will be difficult on these muddy, landslide-prone roads. I was returning from the Lake at the beginning of December and got stuck behind a landslide that had just occurred along the road descending into Nebaj. What was unnerving about the whole thing was that it hadn’t rained in several weeks. I’m guessing the soil was so saturated from all the rain of the previous months that eventually hillside crumbled. It will be interesting to see what goes down this rainy season and also how the constant rain will affect my work as I’ve noticed that Guatemalans aren’t exactly excited about doing work when there’s even a light drizzle.

Last week was Semana Santa (Holy Week) which is the country’s largest holiday outside of Christmas. The schools that weren’t already closed because of the lengthy teacher strike, shut down for the week (as did most businesses) and it was nice to see the streets filled with people. It was a festive time and Nebaj was filled with carnival booths, street vendors, a couple of rickety ferris wheels and of course plenty of bolos (drunks). The strangest thing I saw was an effigy (of who I have no idea) hanging in the central park in front of the Catholic Church. I spent most of the week leading up to Easter in Nebaj by myself, taking a break. I lounged around, worked out, read, watched a bunch of The Wire and wandered the muddy streets. I’ve got to admit it was good to have some alone time. Sometimes living with 5 siblings up in Salquil Grande can be trying and I’d spent a lot of time with Peace Corps volunteers in the past month so it just felt nice (and a bit lonely), to take a break from everything. That being said I did have a wonderful wine filled night with other volunteers at Passover Seder on Wednesday night. I hadn’t seen my good friend Noor in a long time so it was great to spend time with her and of course our terrific host Nicole.

Most of the major U.S. holidays have passed since I’ve been in country. Thanksgiving and New Year’s were celebrated in grand fashion with other volunteers and that was nice. It’s great to get together in big groups for such celebrations because while I come from a small family, it’s nice to experience that same sort of camaraderie. Christmas was a small event. I spent it with my two dear Dutch girls who had just arrived for their two month volunteer stint in Nebaj. I had planned on getting together with other volunteers for Xmas but I decided to spend it in a small setting, getting to know my new European friends. While I miss everyone back home, in regards to Christmas and Easter, it has felt nice to take a break from the usual madness that comes with holidays here in Guatemala and especially in the U.S. It may not seem preferable to hunting for eggs or microwaving Peeps but spending a quiet couple of lonely days was a nice change.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Overdue Pics

It has been far too long since I put some pictures up so here are some recapping the events of the past several months. Some are from training and some are at my site.


With my host brother back during training.



Giving a capacitation (presentation).



Shaking hands with the U.S. Ambassador to Guatemala.



With Justin one of my good friends.



View from my room when the weather is nice.



View from my room when the weather is not so nice. (most evenings)



View of Salquil Grande from the hills.



Group of friends who came up to Nebaj for Thanksgiving and we did a hike.



With my dear Dutch friends who threw a birthday dinner for me.



My carrots!



Out on the job



Giving wine making a shot.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Huehue and Prostitutes (not to create an association between the two)

Anyone notice the earthquake count has gone up? They aren’t as frequent up here as where I was living during training but the other morning we had quite the shake. It’s been a while (a month!)and I’ve got plenty of material to update the blog with, especially about my travels and I promise more soon but here’s a little for now.

Last week my business took me to Huehuetenango, on a mission to buy seeds because they cost less there. Huehuetenango is the capital of the department of…Huehuetenango. The department has some of the tallest mountains in the country, the Cuchumantanes range. My site is located in the eastern edge of the mountain range which extends into western Quiché. Anyways, for some reason I had it in my mind that Huehue (“way-way”) sat on relatively flat terrain with a gigantic wall of mountains looming in the background. In this way it resembles Denver. And while the later is true the former certainly is not. Huehue is as hilly a city as I’ve ever visited; kind of like San Francisco. There you go, it’s a cross between Denver and San Fran, only a lot smaller. The trip to Huehue was very short but I was able to grab lunch with my good buddy Frank whose site is located 20 minutes from the city and that was a pleasure.

I suppose the highlight of the trip was on the way back I was waiting to catch the last bus to Nebaj from Sacapulas when I was propositioned. Standing there on the side of the road waiting for the bus to arrive a group of whoreishly (?) dressed women sitting nearby tore me apart yelling their offers to me. I just shook my head, gave a laugh to amuse them, wore a grin and focused on the road. They were nice enough to promise me a “buen precio” and the whole thing was fairly flattering although I guess it’s just business to them. This was the second time I’ve been propositioned in my life. The first was in Costa Rica where prostitution is legal. I remember trying to watch the UNC-Duke game in a sleazy ex-pat bar crawling with prostitutes (it was the only place that showed college basketball) when a woman took a seat next to me. I kindly turned her down and made an apologetic expression to who I thought was her Madame standing on the other side of the bar. I felt bad turning her down because it must feel even more degrading to be rejected on top of selling your body. Maybe that’s not the case. It’s a conscious decision she’s made and who am I to judge her profession? I mean at least due to the legality there aren’t any pimps. Still it’s a sad (if not awkward) encounter. Maybe I’ve seen too many movies with the “hooker with a heart of gold” theme in them: Pretty Woman, Trading Places, Lonesome Dove, Taxi Driver, L.A. Confidential, Risky Business, Leaving Las Vegas, and Les Misérables. It’s a theme I always find moving.

Anyways it’s not exactly a pleasant topic to discuss but the whole thing is just an interesting experience that one may run into traveling abroad (or in counties in Nevada with populations less than 100,000). It’s something that makes you stop and think and it’s definitely worth a thought or two so I felt like mentioning it.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Work

I want rain. There I said it. Three months ago I probably could never have imagined saying those words but I’m a changed man. No I’m not; I’m just a man who cares dearly about his precious carrots that have sprouted in his garden. A few days after I arrived at site I made a bed and planted carrots and broccoli. The soil was clay so I double dug the bed in order to loosen the soil up, meaning with the help of my two youngest brothers I dug a deep trench then pushed the soil I had just dug back in the trench and built up the elevated garden bed. I also made check dams to absorb water in case it rained. It took us one afternoon and by the end of it my brothers wanted to kill me. My host father wore a confused face that day. I explained to him that it was an odd technique but I was just experimenting.

The next day I helped him make his own bed, we made six his way, without digging in the soil. Afterwards he said to me “Look today we made six beds my way and it took you an afternoon just to make one your way. Whose way is better, yours or mine?” All I could say was we’ll see, to which he laughed. For a second there I felt like the guy who comes in following the textbook only to quickly learn that that’s not how it works in the field. Fast forward a couple weeks. My host father comes up to me: “Your carrots have sprouted, mine haven’t.” I wanted to do a fist pump right there but I just smiled. As of today his carrots have yet to sprout.

Ahh yes the work has begun. It took a while due to several meetings where none of the group leaders showed up and my organization changing things but I have started working in several family gardens in three communities. So far we’ve planted carrots, swiss chard, beets, and radishes and I’ve given talks on double digging (after my own success) and a couple brief talks about nutrition. I’m mighty busy but all I can say is that it feels great to get my work up and running.

The family situation is getting a bit sticky. It seems my concerns about religious involvement are coming to a head. I won’t go into it but I think they might raise my rent for not going to church with them. It’s kind of funny how illegal that would be in the States. That’s not to say that all is not well with my family situation. They’re building a house for their oldest who has a pretty serious girlfriend he hopes to wed next year. She lives in one of the nearby villages and I met her last night. Carlos and Reina just stood there and talked while her little brothers dragged me off to throw fireworks and eventually watch Bloodsport. It was hilarious. The little kids kept referring to Jean-Claude Van Damme as “El Van Damme,” (The Van Damme). I occasionally lend my family a hand with the house construction and they have me lifting hundreds of cinder blocks which is good exercise but most importantly when I help them out they feed me for free. Little odd jobs like giving the cows water. I guess you can say “feed the cows” but you can’t say “water the cows.” Anyways note to self don’t wear a red shirt next time.

Basketball has been frustrating as of late. They don’t call fouls up here and I now understand why that huge guy I would play basketball with at Covenant in the mornings would always threaten to punch someone because everyone would foul him like crazy because they couldn’t stop him.

The daily grind means I have little time to myself in which to write. I fixed my fakakta bed so there’s not a missing board where my neck rests. At night I’ll throw on an album and listen to it straight through while I cook dinner. It’s sort of like my own little scene from The Big Chill. I try and listen to an album a night, last night it was David Bowie’s "Heroes". I think tonight I’ll put on either Blonde on Blonde or Loaded.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Salquil Grande Hoops

I found some guys who enjoy shooting hoops so I’ve brought my basketball game up here. There’s a muddy court we play streetball on in the foggy evenings. Our own Rucker Park and while I’m not exactly “The Goat” or “Black Jesus”, I can dominate. (I need to get an awesome nickname like those two guys. Sweet Dan Jennings?) As much as I’d love to say it’s more than just the height factor, it mainly is the height factor. What they lack in height the make up for with speed. They’re much quicker than I am. They’re in better shape and they’re used to playing at this altitude. I gotta get in better shape. I’m no Derrick Coleman.

I do love me some streetball. Their version of 21 is a little odd. I’ve played it numerous times and still don’t quite understand it. I’m such a sucker for a game of basketball. The other day I was sick and they called me out to play. See: The Flu Game. Ok so I exaggerate. Anyways apparently there is a somewhat semi-thrown together league or let’s just say a group of teams. Last year my team were the Lakers, this year they’re the Bobcats. That’s right they asked me to name the team. Apparently we’re getting jerseys (!?) made: blue, outlined with white with Los Bobcats printed on the front. We’ll see how those turn out. I’m not exactly sure they’ll resemble the real Bobcats uniforms. We’ve got a game tomorrow night and I’m pretty excited to see how these Nebajenses run the floor. What I learned playing in Sacatepequez is not to assume your height will carry the game. We got trounced a few times. Some of these cats can ball.