What do you think?

Noahs Ark

I have an almost hypothetical situation for you. If you were stranded on a boat "made for 70" that seemed like it brimming with only 25 people in the middle of the ocean and had only had a liter of water in your posession who would you choose as your boat mates?

In the name of time, money saved, and adventure Elliot and I chose to take the water route to continue on our journey instead of the more traditional chicken bus. The boat leaves once a week from Dangriga and arrives at Puerto Cortes. The day before embarked we went to find the boat and buy our tickets. I had in mind a slow going ocean barge that would take the better part of the day to go the few hundred miles that it would take to get to our destination. Instead we found a sleek speed boat with three outboard 200 hp engines and a gothic style Noah´s Ark painted on the side. We were stoked. Not only was this going to save us from the exit fees that you have to pay at every other border crossing but this one, but it was also going to shave off a day and a half of sitting on bumpy buses. It turned out to be a lot fuller experience than that. The first half hour was spent passing through the cayes , small islands made of coral, which looked like something out of a fairy tale. There were loads of them and they ranged in size from 20 yards across to what looked like at least a quarter mile. The one thing that everyone single one of them had in common regardless of size was some sort of fancy cabana looking structure on them. The captain of our boat told me that they are a major part of the tourist industry in Belize.

Durign those first thirty minutes Elliot and I got front row seats -standing seats. The only person in front of us was the lookout. His job was to point which direction the boat needed to go in order to avoid any debris that the boat came across and there was a lot. Most of it was just empty coke bottles but here and there the boat would make quite sharp changes in its direction to avoid the few tree trunks that were in our path. After those few first sharp changes in direction is when things began to get a little interesting on the inside of the boat. Almost all of the conversations stopped, a few people had taken off their shirts to put over their faces, one gentleman even started handing out plastic bags to those that looked most in need, a few of the half dozen 4-5 year olds were crying and elliot and i had both sat down after working on our tans in the only section of the boat that was uncovered trying to concentrate hard enough so as to not join the ranks of the other seasick people on the boat.

The next bit of fun came at the hour and a half marker. The boat suddenly started letting out a fairly highpitched beeping and then the engines stopped. Everyone immediately looked back at the captain and he had already turned around to give a look at the engines. He was crouched over with one hand on his knee and the other scracthing his head. Any doubt about him playing duel roles of captain and mechanic were immediately put to bed after seeing the perplexed look on his face. As for us passengers, well i think we were all a bit worried. One man got up and started doing hail marries, a few others took out their cell phones and searched unsuccessfully for service, the kids gave a cry again, and i told elliot about my idea to make a sail from the cloth material that was being used as the awning. Elliot was a small yacht captain for a while and he immediately responded “it wont work, there is nothing to be used as a mast and we have no rigging”. then i prayed!

We were only dead in the water for 10 to 15 minutes before the engines got going again, but it seemed like an eternity. We eventually got to Puerto Cortes with out any mishaps other than being separated from our passports for a short time and being slightly extorted by the local taxi drivers.

Off to Tegucigalpa.

uuu cohm heya luhrn meik tortia? - yes

a few days ago elliot and i were making the rounds to visit all of the former people that he worked with here in san ignacio. the highlight was going to the kitchen of the ngo that he was volunteering with. there was a jolly and rather plump creole woman that was swinging her spatula around as she made her way to elliot to give him a hug. after disposing of the neccesary pleasantries she asked him when he was coming over to eat and what he wanted to have. "chili beans!" was his response and then i chimed in "can we make some tortillas as well and can i help in the making of them?" i had heard numerous stories about how good her tortillas were and wasn't about to pass up on what might be the only opportunity to try them out.

so she said "cohm heya moanday an weill cuke"

today was the big day! i got up by 7:00 to shave off my scruff and put on some of my nicer clothes so that i could be ready for my 9 a.m. tortilla making session.

as we got ready to make them i asked her if she could teach me a little creole (most everyone here speaks 3 languages or at least bits and pieces of three languages which are english, spanish, and creole) and she looked at me and said "uuu cohm heya luhrn meik tortia" that is the best phonetic spelling i can give of what she said. truth be told it was almost entirely a foreign language and it took me a solid 30 seconds to realize that she was even talking to me. she repeated her phrase a couple of more times and after i deciphered it i said "YES!"

a few tidbits on creole. it does not have a standardized writing for its words. in fact there are creole publications in the country and the words are always phonetically spelled but the spelling will differ according to the exact way that a particular writer pronounces the word. and it follows no clear grammar pattern. today i was in a car with a creole speaking driver and as he passed by some of his friends he slowed down and the entire conversation that they had was this

guy on the road: "way-ur"

driver: "tree flag"

and then the guy on the road hopped in to the back of the truck and got a lift down to the tHree flag grocery store.

back to the tortillas. i just sat back and watched as she prepared the masa. she had handed me a creole cook book with the recipe in it: 4 cups flour, 3tbsp lard, a pinch of salt, and a 1/4 warm water. but when it came to mixing the ingredients there wasn't a measuring cup to be found anywhere in the kitchen. she measured out 5 handfuls of flour, an odd shaped tupperware full of water, a 1/4 of a handful of salt, and a few large pinches of lard. talk about frustration.

i did get to help with the making from there on out though and they were even better than a some that i have had at the local taco stands in san angelo - it was a proud moment.

the cooking wasnt just for us! it is part of a lunch program that the ngo does for elementary school kids and senior citizens in the town. the elementary kids are not back to school yet so we only made about 10 pounds of chili beans and rice and 31 tortillas. after filling up on our hard work we spent the remainder of the early afternoon making deliveries to the elders houses dropping off their lunches.

fresh eyes and bad planning

Yesterday was spent traveling on three different buses from 5:00 a.m. till 5:30 p.m. When I wasn't sleeping I was talking with other travelers or yelling at crooks that were trying to take advantage of the foreigners at the border crossing. quick bit of advice - if anyone ever tries to "help you out" at a border crossing by expediting the stamping of your passport by any other means than waiting in the same line that everyone else is waiting in to get theirs stamped, don't let them do it. If fact you should probably give them a dirty look and a choice word or two about their dirty business practices. I settled for giving the dirty look. Unfortunately I didn't move fast enough to warn another traveler that was getting bamboozled at that same moment. She got scammed out of an extra four dollars. It might only be 4 bucks but it is the principle of the thing - that and 4 bucks will buy an amazing lunch down here.

So about this traveler. I got to chat with her for a good while after the fiasco at the border crossing. She had a glimmer in her eye that you almost only see once in a traveler. It is that look that says "wow, this yellow dog bus with no ac going through the jungle is amazing, the street food is so different, the people are so interesting, ...sensory overload at every turn" it was the eyes of someone who is taking their first trip abroad. After having assumed that by only looking at her face I asked "how many times have you been down this way before" and she confirmed my suspicions by saying "I have traveled extensively in the US, but this is my first time to go abroad." Traveling is always exciting and even if you go to the same destination a million times it is always different but the first is always a wonder/ADD producing experience.

On a bad planning note. I saw once again yesterday how fortunate I am to have an American passport. There was a couple from the far east yesterday that was crossing into beliz on the same bus with us. They had no trouble leaving Mexico but when they went to cross into beliz they were informed that they had to apply for a visa in advance and that it was going to cost them 2 to 3 thousand US dollars to obtain that visa. I felt two things in that moment; the first was anger and I said out loud "if they have the money then just let them in the country, they want to travel freely just like the rest of us", and I felt fortunate and privileged to come from a country that has so very few travel restrictions placed on it.

Healty eating and a friendly mexico

For the past week my traveling buddy has been visiting my Texas. He made his goal clear in an email before he ever got off the plane from London. ¨Josh, I want to taste Texas¨ I took him on a culinary tour that would make a king jealous and americans everywhere quite proud. Within a weeks time we both had physical evidence of what kind of damage being a good american can do to your system and it was amazing! The night before we left he let me know that his t-shirts seemed to have mysteriously shrunk in his 7 day stay. If happiness can be measured in pounds gained then his happy meter is off the chart. and as for me, well i managed to put on about 8 pounds ina week. That takes talent. oh, and our final good bye to american cuisine was done at the golden arhces in the DFW airport. We had our second breakfast #7 followed by a big mac about thirty minutes later.
As for where here is. We are currently in southern mexico. Our intentions were to drive but the car I had suddenly started having serious mechanical problems about a month before our departure date and a week after my mothers prayer group started asking that my car be put out of commision. Go figure. We then went to the next option which was to take a bus. There are few better ways to see a country and meet the people than by bussing. But the bus tickets were only a few dollars less than airfare. When I finally decided to fly I think my mother lost a dozen wrinkles.
As for southern mexico, well the mexicans are fantastic, peaceful, friendly, flirtatious, gregarious, warm-hearted, and always looking for a conversation. THAT is a small part of the real Mexico and the real mexican!!!

In touch

So the next adventure is about to begin and I have told my self since... June 2006, that I was going to do a better job of keeping in touch with people. Until now it was just a good intention. but as they say "mas vale tarde que nunca!" There are too many people worth keeping in touch and sharing stories with not too write every once in a while.

For those of you that I have not shared with yet, I am headed back to latin america. This time I will be a lot closer than Peru. The road will lead to central america.

As for why I am going and what I will be doing, well I will do my best to explain that as well as share the journey getting there in upcoming letters.

Hasta pronto!