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| uxmal, quintana roo, mexico. |
Showing posts with label mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mexico. Show all posts
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
Monday, July 19, 2010
a surreal life
Seeing the art and learning about the lives of these 'European Bitches,' as Frida Kahlo nicknamed them, was inspiring. Even more so after Eva told me that if I found myself an apartment in Colonia Roma she might come join me to live in D.F. The serendipity of her comment being that Colonia Roma is where these three women made their home during the 40's.
Learning about these creative women standing around their kitchens, telling one another stories, finding inspiration in friendship, laughing about the absurdity of life, sharing their knowledge and encouraging one another to create art, all during a time when women were expected to be perfecting their Sunday roasts, gives me even more faith in the strength and determination of the fairer sex. Though these days my dream kitchen in Colonia Roma has to be a virtual one, formed of brief emails, inspiring blogs, long winded chat sessions, and the occasional post card from my breath taking group of friends, I am grateful for what I have.
(image: Leonora Carrington, The House Opposite)
Saturday, April 17, 2010
being here now
I often find myself trying to recreate the sensations of being in Asia, just as one might try and remember an old lover, trying to recover the nuances, the fine details. It is funny, I knew that this would happen. It isn't a desire of wanting to return, but just a nostalgia for a time in my life. Sometimes, when it is hot, as it is today, I re-imagine the heat pressing down on my back, the sweat drawing rivers down the small of my back. I'm in Chichen Itza (well just outside), the hammering footwork of the traditional Yucatecan dances thunders from down the hall, and all the tourists look damp and uncomfortable. Ice cream or ice lollies seems the most accepted solution to the pounding sun. I opted for doing my accounts over a tour of the ruins under cloudless skies. One can only admire 'el castillo' so many times before it just becomes another 'pile of rocks.'
Back to my first tangent, Asia. My recovering of memories, or attempts at it, highlights the very core of travel. Newness, stimulates us, it fires all sorts of excitement in our nervous system. Think of your first view of the crested pyramids at Tikal, the first scent of lavender in the fields of France, your first sip of wine, the smell of Hawaii as you step of the plane. After a while these things fade, they become less impressive, the become rote, or routine. After a little while Hawaii smells like any other place, our demons and hold ups follow us and we become ourselves, the same cranky self we are at home just in an exotic locale.
But here is the very lesson, those first moments are when we are hyper-aware, when our senses our sucking up every vibration of information, we are open and in the moment, more focused on the sensations, than the email we might have to send. And I am pretty sure that is where the delight in living life comes from, the more in-the-moment we can be, the more engaged in what is actually going on around us the more satisfied we feel with life.
The thing that scares me is that modernization and technology seem to want to move away from that very concept. Actually I am guilty of it as this very moment, I am sitting at the outskirts of, 'one of the world's new 7 wonders,' with headphones in, typing away on my netbook. What does this have to with Asia? When I made the choice to leave Asia I suddenly became aware that my time there was suddenly limited and I wanted to take advantage of everything. But I realized that running about like a crazy woman trying to do every last thing was never going to happen. I instead turned to trying to enjoy every last experience that I could have. But this isn't something one can do only while traveling, it is an everyday practice to enjoy the very process of living. When is the last time you took the time to enjoy the process of bathing? Of eating? Of sleeping? We have the chance to make our very living into a ritual of joy and pleasure and yet so many of us turn it into a chore.
Maybe this is all way too woo-woo and out there, but I think there is something to this. Something to finding pleasure in the very act of being. At least this thinking helped me get my expenses done.
Back to my first tangent, Asia. My recovering of memories, or attempts at it, highlights the very core of travel. Newness, stimulates us, it fires all sorts of excitement in our nervous system. Think of your first view of the crested pyramids at Tikal, the first scent of lavender in the fields of France, your first sip of wine, the smell of Hawaii as you step of the plane. After a while these things fade, they become less impressive, the become rote, or routine. After a little while Hawaii smells like any other place, our demons and hold ups follow us and we become ourselves, the same cranky self we are at home just in an exotic locale.
But here is the very lesson, those first moments are when we are hyper-aware, when our senses our sucking up every vibration of information, we are open and in the moment, more focused on the sensations, than the email we might have to send. And I am pretty sure that is where the delight in living life comes from, the more in-the-moment we can be, the more engaged in what is actually going on around us the more satisfied we feel with life.
The thing that scares me is that modernization and technology seem to want to move away from that very concept. Actually I am guilty of it as this very moment, I am sitting at the outskirts of, 'one of the world's new 7 wonders,' with headphones in, typing away on my netbook. What does this have to with Asia? When I made the choice to leave Asia I suddenly became aware that my time there was suddenly limited and I wanted to take advantage of everything. But I realized that running about like a crazy woman trying to do every last thing was never going to happen. I instead turned to trying to enjoy every last experience that I could have. But this isn't something one can do only while traveling, it is an everyday practice to enjoy the very process of living. When is the last time you took the time to enjoy the process of bathing? Of eating? Of sleeping? We have the chance to make our very living into a ritual of joy and pleasure and yet so many of us turn it into a chore.
Maybe this is all way too woo-woo and out there, but I think there is something to this. Something to finding pleasure in the very act of being. At least this thinking helped me get my expenses done.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
8 de marzo
I had meant to take a photo of this poster near the bakery I passed every morning on my way to La Brujula for my morning coffee. Of course by the time I got my camera and myself in the same place to take it, the poster had been covered by some other poster advertising a man in a sombrero.
Anyhow, I encountered this one on my last night in Oaxaca covered up by a poster for an event with a Buddhist nun. So sorry to the nun, because I pulled her poster down to take this photo.
Anyhow, 8 de Marzo was pretty tranquilo en Oaxaca. Jesus and I did discuss the difference between men and women here in México. It is interesting because although it is similar to the issues we have in the states there is an underlying difference in culture. Machismo is such an integral part of the culture here, for better or worse, and that directly impacts women.
Anyhow, I am too tired to get into the subtleties of this complicated subject, I just mainly wanted to share the photo. xx
Sunday, March 7, 2010
dia de las mujeres
Women's day is tomorrow and here in la ciudad de Oaxaca there are sure to be demonstrations in the Zocalo (that's the nick name for Mexico's parque centrals). I was reminded of this up coming holiday whilst reading a most inspiring post on Rambling Spoon. The post is travel and food writing at its best, illuminating the things that are so easy to overlook and reminding us to give thanks for what we have.
As for Oaxaca, Jesus (not to be confused with THE Jesucristo) my espanish teacher has lots of interesting opinions about the state of women's rights here in Mexico. I'll be sure to pick his brain and report back on his opnions, the goings on here and my take on all of it.
Happy Oscars.
As for Oaxaca, Jesus (not to be confused with THE Jesucristo) my espanish teacher has lots of interesting opinions about the state of women's rights here in Mexico. I'll be sure to pick his brain and report back on his opnions, the goings on here and my take on all of it.
Happy Oscars.
Monday, February 22, 2010
briefly...
I'm back in Cayo, sitting under a ceiling fan which is struggling to stir the heavy afternoon air. I arrived here yesterday, driving the last hour in the dark through air fragrant with orange blossom. Today I have been slow and lazy like an iguana. My group went out to see the famous caves I opted for lunch in town and a visit to the post office.
I've been back in C.A. for almost two weeks and it has been a bit wild and wooly. I've been serenaded by Mariachis on the back roads of Palenque, dove in two new cenotes (hello rainbow cool-ness) and partied with 28 Finnish doctors. No rest for the weary.
Probably my favorite discovery is a torta place in D.F. that has been making tortas since 1936! Carnitas y aguacate. Hot damn.
I've been back in C.A. for almost two weeks and it has been a bit wild and wooly. I've been serenaded by Mariachis on the back roads of Palenque, dove in two new cenotes (hello rainbow cool-ness) and partied with 28 Finnish doctors. No rest for the weary.
Probably my favorite discovery is a torta place in D.F. that has been making tortas since 1936! Carnitas y aguacate. Hot damn.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
quick and dirty guide: the central 7 and mexico
(B this entry is for you)
I'm thinking someone should pay me to be a travel adviser, or something to that end, but maybe I will get paid back in street phad thai and good karma for all this writing I am doing.
B asked about belize/honduras versus costa rica/nicaragua which I would say are two very worthy choices to choose between and led me to think about what all the countries are like in central. I'm planning on getting to writing mini-guides on those countries that I have not yet covered but I figure I'll start with a what we might call a country briefing. I'm starting North and moving South, try to keep up. Oh and these are my opinions, nothing more.
MÉXICO
Mexico has just about everything. Rich in culture, diverse in landscape, I can't really cover it all here. But my general feeling of méxico is, 'GUAU!' It is big, it has states, and the food in INCREDIBLE.
You could spend months or years exploring it: surfing, diving, mayan ruins, climbing volcanoes, visiting pueblitos, getting yourself lost in churches, meeting the indigenous people, swimming in lakes, exploring canyons. Chiapas is fantastic, the Yucatan (and associated states) is divine, and D.F. will blow your mind.
GUATEMALA
My soul lives in Guate. Highlands, black beans, incredible textiles, gorgeous colonial cities, TIKAL, and the warmest latinos on the block, what more can you ask for? Did I mention the coffee and chocolate?
BELIZE
For a cultural shmorgasborg, postcard beaches, and lush jungle Belize takes the cake. It is small, accessible, easy to get around, and full of friendly faces. Belize combines lots of outdoor activities with a carribean attitude, plus just about everyone speaks English. It isn't as cheap as other countries, but you can do it on a budget. Most people go for the diving, end up exploring a cave or two, and maybe some nice ruins. Don't miss the Marie Sharps.
HONDURAS
Considering the current political strife, Honduras might not be your first choice. Honduras is in a word: strange. The catrachos are different from the other Latins and the Bay Islands are a world unto themselves. Copán has lovely ruins (but is more Guatemala than Honduras), las Islas Bahia have some great diving (and it is CHEAP), I've heard other places are great, but I haven't seen much. Most people stick to the islands and head on to the next place. If you want to get off the beaten track and see something new it could be a glorious adventure, but I am not making any promises. Combined with Belize it could be a cool diving vacation (there are direct flights between Belize city and San Pedro Sula).
EL SAV
Can't comment too much. Heard the coast is a great place for surfing. Pupusas seem motivation enough to check it out, but then again most people don't travel just so they can try the local food.
NICARAGUA
Could the Nicas be any nicer? Seriously. My best best best friends all live in Nicaragua. Traffic is usually caused by cows. Nicaragua is considered the next big thing though the economic crisis may have slowed that for a bit. If you want to experience almost everything Central has to offer (islands, volcanoes, diving, surfing, jungles, colonial cities) you could stay in Nicaragua and see almost everything. Boasting two of the longest coast lines in the region, two colonial gems, and decent infrastructure, it combines the variety of Costa Rica with the wildness of the other countries.
COSTA RICA
Costa Rica has grown on me. The people are unique and possess a subtle culture that will crawl into you heart and find a home, just give it time. If you like wildlife, getting outdoors and varied landscapes you will be blown away by Costa Rica. Not as safe as some people will have you think, it is still welcoming and lovely. The tourist infrastructure makes doing things a breeze, but there are still relatively undeveloped pockets, they just require 4 wheel drive and a bit more patience. Make friends with the Ticos, they know the best places and love to have a good time. Throw Nicaragua in the mix and you have an interesting balance of two very different cultures, the opportunity to do more outdoor sports than you can imagine and a hundred possibilities for adventure.
PANAMA
My Panama experience is limited to Bocas Del Toro, and I dug that. Panama City is rumored to be quite and adventure, David and the highlands come highly recommended. Plus there is always the added temptation of trying to reach Colombia overland from here. Send me a postcard if you make it!
So there you go, brief, succinct, and obviously biased. Hope that gives you some insight.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Quick and dirty guide: the road from Cancun to Belize
An ex-passenger of mine requested some info on Central America for an upcoming trip. I have acquiesced, but figured rather than putting it in email form that the blog might be a better approach so that more people can benefit from all my hard typing. We're starting in the Yucatan because that is where Rich is starting, and that's what I felt like doing.
CANCUN
I am not a fan, the one thing I do dig is Gory Tacos not too far from the ADO station in Cancun on Andador Tulipanes No. 26 S.M. 22. So you can do that, eat a Torta and think of me. I like to stay a Kin Mayab for a couple reasons: they serve anchor butter with their square bread toast, the staff is friendly, and it is walking distance from the ADO station. The ADO is consequently probably the cheapest way to get to/from the airport unless you have two people, then walk outside the airport and grab a cab, should be between $25-30.
Far better in my opinion to escape Cancun and head to....
ISLA MUJERES
Mmm I dig it here, great food, nice people, awesome beach.
Take a cab from Cancun to Puerto Juarez, grab the every half hour ferry (70mxp) and you arrive in what might be one of my favorite beach towns. Tons and tons of hotels abound, I like Los Bucaneros (used to stay there for work) or right across the street is Ronaldi's pizza I am a pizza addict, I know. The hotel above Ronaldi's is nice, huge beds. Both are located on the boisterous and fun pedestrian street, tons of great restaurants etc. I am now a huge fan of beach front Minino's for their pescado entero (get it fried, but be prepared it comes with the head on). Breakfast at Cafecito is divine, they make a jam out of bananas coconut and pineapple, and even the New York Times says it is good. Also Manana makes nice brekkie and lunch, plus they have used books. My newest haunt (they have coffee and wifi) is Magagua or something like that. It is a cool open air cafe with comfy chairs and a fast connection, good for doing expense reports. A nice lady told me Cafe Mango is great, I've never made it there, but maybe you will.
To do: Take a trip out to Isla Contoy, or if it is the season head out on a whale shark trip. Both are worth every penny I promise.
PLAYA DEL CARMEN
Don't waste your time, you didn't come to Mexico to hang out with fat Americans sprawled on 100Mxp chaise chairs.
PUERTO MORELOS
If you dive, might be worth a trip down here, catch the ADO then a cab into town. A good base for cenote dives as well. Check out Dive In Puerto Morelos and eat at La Terraza, good food and a bit of an asian fix as well.
TULUM and CHICHEN ITZA
the two crowning glories of my Biggest Blow Outs of Mexico list. Don't fuck around, go to Uxmal or Tikal instead. Unless you like tourists, if you like tourists have a great time.
getting to Belize from Mexico requires a bus to Chetumal, then you grab a bus to Belize city. Belize City is not worth a visit, so just grab a ferry to...
CAYE CAULKER
Oh man, welcome to a slice of paradise. Two words: CAKE MAN. So, find yourself a hotel, deposit luggage, put on bathing suit, grab some BZD and walk down to the split. Buy a belekin, start drinking and wait for the Cake Man to come. It is not an exact science but somewhere between 5 and 6 Bunz appears and he comes with cake. It is all excellent but my two favorites are: key lime pie cake and the macaroon brownie. It will change your life, this I will guarantee.
I dive with the attitude filled Frenchies and you absolutely have to do the Snorkeling Sail with Raggamuffin (you can miss out on the rum punch, it is lethal). Wear sunscreen. I like Gertrude at the Ocean Pearle, she is nice, keeps the place clean and there are hammocks.
when you finally tear yourself away from C.C. on your way to Guatemala you can visit...
SAN IGNACIO
Eat at Hanna's, order a lamb quesadilla it is HUGE. Then stroll down the street and sign up for either the A.T.M. or Crystal Cave with the lovely boys at Hun Chi'ik tours. Both are amazing sacred mayan caves and the tours are worth every penny. Both Benjamin and Rudy are incredible guides, tell them I say hi.
Stay out at Midas, the owners are sweet and the rooms are lovely, plus it is out of town. Walk over to Hodes and get your self some rice and beans. mmm.
going south from C.C. you can cruise downt the Hummingbird Highway to...
HOPKINS
crazy, small, but I love it.
PLACENCIA
The caye you can walk to, small, mellow, beachy.
Before leaving Belize make sure to: eat and buy Marie Sharps hot sauce, eat rice and beans, check out a cave, go snorkeling or diving
QUINTANA ROO
CANCUN
I am not a fan, the one thing I do dig is Gory Tacos not too far from the ADO station in Cancun on Andador Tulipanes No. 26 S.M. 22. So you can do that, eat a Torta and think of me. I like to stay a Kin Mayab for a couple reasons: they serve anchor butter with their square bread toast, the staff is friendly, and it is walking distance from the ADO station. The ADO is consequently probably the cheapest way to get to/from the airport unless you have two people, then walk outside the airport and grab a cab, should be between $25-30.
Far better in my opinion to escape Cancun and head to....
ISLA MUJERES
Mmm I dig it here, great food, nice people, awesome beach.
Take a cab from Cancun to Puerto Juarez, grab the every half hour ferry (70mxp) and you arrive in what might be one of my favorite beach towns. Tons and tons of hotels abound, I like Los Bucaneros (used to stay there for work) or right across the street is Ronaldi's pizza I am a pizza addict, I know. The hotel above Ronaldi's is nice, huge beds. Both are located on the boisterous and fun pedestrian street, tons of great restaurants etc. I am now a huge fan of beach front Minino's for their pescado entero (get it fried, but be prepared it comes with the head on). Breakfast at Cafecito is divine, they make a jam out of bananas coconut and pineapple, and even the New York Times says it is good. Also Manana makes nice brekkie and lunch, plus they have used books. My newest haunt (they have coffee and wifi) is Magagua or something like that. It is a cool open air cafe with comfy chairs and a fast connection, good for doing expense reports. A nice lady told me Cafe Mango is great, I've never made it there, but maybe you will.
To do: Take a trip out to Isla Contoy, or if it is the season head out on a whale shark trip. Both are worth every penny I promise.
PLAYA DEL CARMEN
Don't waste your time, you didn't come to Mexico to hang out with fat Americans sprawled on 100Mxp chaise chairs.
PUERTO MORELOS
If you dive, might be worth a trip down here, catch the ADO then a cab into town. A good base for cenote dives as well. Check out Dive In Puerto Morelos and eat at La Terraza, good food and a bit of an asian fix as well.
TULUM and CHICHEN ITZA
the two crowning glories of my Biggest Blow Outs of Mexico list. Don't fuck around, go to Uxmal or Tikal instead. Unless you like tourists, if you like tourists have a great time.
BELIZE/BELICE
getting to Belize from Mexico requires a bus to Chetumal, then you grab a bus to Belize city. Belize City is not worth a visit, so just grab a ferry to...
CAYE CAULKER
Oh man, welcome to a slice of paradise. Two words: CAKE MAN. So, find yourself a hotel, deposit luggage, put on bathing suit, grab some BZD and walk down to the split. Buy a belekin, start drinking and wait for the Cake Man to come. It is not an exact science but somewhere between 5 and 6 Bunz appears and he comes with cake. It is all excellent but my two favorites are: key lime pie cake and the macaroon brownie. It will change your life, this I will guarantee.
I dive with the attitude filled Frenchies and you absolutely have to do the Snorkeling Sail with Raggamuffin (you can miss out on the rum punch, it is lethal). Wear sunscreen. I like Gertrude at the Ocean Pearle, she is nice, keeps the place clean and there are hammocks.
when you finally tear yourself away from C.C. on your way to Guatemala you can visit...
SAN IGNACIO
Eat at Hanna's, order a lamb quesadilla it is HUGE. Then stroll down the street and sign up for either the A.T.M. or Crystal Cave with the lovely boys at Hun Chi'ik tours. Both are amazing sacred mayan caves and the tours are worth every penny. Both Benjamin and Rudy are incredible guides, tell them I say hi.
Stay out at Midas, the owners are sweet and the rooms are lovely, plus it is out of town. Walk over to Hodes and get your self some rice and beans. mmm.
going south from C.C. you can cruise downt the Hummingbird Highway to...
HOPKINS
crazy, small, but I love it.
PLACENCIA
The caye you can walk to, small, mellow, beachy.
Before leaving Belize make sure to: eat and buy Marie Sharps hot sauce, eat rice and beans, check out a cave, go snorkeling or diving
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
No. 38
Living down here has its benefits, like when you get a couple days off and get to go on cutty cenote diving adventures with your dive instructor friends. In between my last trip (Yucatan Panorama - a hilarious stint in the peninsula) and the one I am currently running my ever frustratingly brilliant scheduler left me with two unoccupied days in Quintana Roo. Shannon, who I met way back (as in last year) on Utila now lives in Puerto Morelos, a mere 15 minutes from the Cancun Airport. Awesome. So after a lot of motivational speeches to myself to leave Isla Mujeres (keep in mind moving requires also moving Mary my pack who has gained some weight lately) I loaded both Mary and myself on to the ferry and on to a bus southward bound. One taxi ride later and there I was shooting the shit with Shannon.
Fellow gypsy/vagabond/homeless travelers who make their living on the road and aren't out to prove their superiority over "tourists" but rather need someone who understands what it is like to live on the fringes of other people's vacations are hard to come by. And when I find one all I want to do is sit down and talk shop: the difficulties of constantly being friendly, how impossible it is to have a boyfriend on the road, and the frustrations of wanting to have a simple house plant. Have I mentioned that this lifestyle has made me even more grateful of friendship? Getting to spend all afternoon talking to a like minded soul was like a breath of fresh air.
So after forgoing lunch for dark chocolate, we made our way over to Teraza a small Asian influenced spot with gauzy curtains and paper lanterns blowing in the wind. The restaurant is upstairs on a little terrace (hence the name) with a nice view of the zocalo. As we were finishing up our Oriental Salad (with strawberries, shrimp, aguacate, and a peanutty dressing) and pasta a strange thing happened. All of a sudden a man in a kilt started playing the bag pipes, and then young girls started doing highland dancing. And then I had one of those feeling like, WTF? Where am I? Which isn't that strange of a thing for me, but still Scots in Mexico?
Of course investigating was in order, which for me culminated in a 12 year old girl dressed like a cow girl (picture the cow girl from toy story but in a skirt) dancing some sort of complicated scottish jig. About that time Shannon and I looked at each other and simultaneously thought and said, "Lets get the F out of here." Which we did, but along the way Shannon hugged everyone in town. Finally we sat down and got some margaritas. And man, not two minutes went by before some fucking weird ass Canadians busted up our party inquiring after where to go in Caye Caulker. I kid you not, I asked if they were going to pay me for my advice. That is really the equivalent of asking a doctor to examine you while he is sitting and having a scotch right? Any how they had some bizarre mustache hair growing and we gave them a quick run down on where to go, and they still didn't offer to buy us a drink. Bad manners if you ask me.
So then it was hugs all around, and finally we made it off to bed. The next morning the wind was still blowing so no boats were leaving the harbor, making centoe plotting in order. After a lot of misfires we finally got our motely crew of cenote divers assembled: Tony (20, Texan, Dive Master), Shannon (26, Native Louisianan, Dive Instructor), and me (25 - still!, Californian, DMT - at least I pretend). Now let me set the scene, Tony is the only one who knows where the cenote is, I am downing 1.5L of freezing cold bonafont (my favorite of the mexican waters), Shannon is worrying about a chicano lost somewhere between California and Mexico. Off we go, down the highway, then left on to the cenote road, along the asphalt, then off the asphalt and on to a dust yucatecan limestone road. Of course by then I needed to pee. So like I figured it was the perfect time to try peeing standing up. Right there along the side of the road I pissed myself, or on myself, or something, much to both Tony and Shannon's amusement. After I clean myself up we take off again and soon realize we have lost the cenote. I mean we still know where we are, but we don't know where the cenote is. The thing is that cenotes don't move, so we double back head back the way we came and finally after asking 4 separate mexicans, locate the turn off (the sign had moved, the road had been paved, or maybe Tony chiefs too much) but we were on our way. The Kinh-ha cenote is located down some evily bumpy dirt road, but the day had that feeling of late summer, kind of dusty and hot air, nice breezy all grassy smelling. And there we were rolling along, windows down, music going, friends, laughter, off on an adventure. We pull up to the cenote, load up the gear, check the air, discuss how to remember right hand release on your weight belt (which somehow is still easy to forget), and then waddle off loaded down, ungraceful, and desperate for cool water. Down the ladders to the wooden platform of Kinh-ha cenote which sits under a ceiling of limestone graced with two large circular openings, one has the ladder that leads to the platform, the other is lined with roots like Rapunzel's hair dangling into the sapphire blue water. Weight belt, bcd, fins, mask, off the platform in some twisty lift push launch which turns out more graceful than I had planned and I am in the cool water of the cenote. We bumble about a bit on the surface looking for the line and I start to realize how deep this thing is, the blue starts out a lush jewel tone but quickly darkens to almost black below. A swath of light is cut in the area below the root decorated opening, illuminating the fine roots making them look even more like a honey blond hair trailing in the water. Finally we decide to descend, try to locate the line and then follow it back up. All of us are over-weighted and we fall quickly into the darkness. The water is eerily clear and yet you can't see to the other side, the cenote is round but with layers and layers of stalagmites dripping down, finally at the bottom are silt hills and valleys studded with lost items (spectacles, turtle shells, masks, twigs, etc), and all around are blind cat fish who seems to hang around me for the length of the dive. We find the line, and take off to explore the hills of accumulated organic matter, it is like being on another planet, like walking on the moon. At one point I almost sink into the ground, it stirs up into a murky cloud and I have the feeling that you could keep falling and falling through all that debri. We start tracing a path along the side of the cenote slowly moving higher, exploring the formations, I do somersaults, Tony checks everything out, and Shannon cruises along. The whole time I feel like I am on some strange drug trip, both Shannon and Tony look like they are floating in empty space, it is hard to get your bearings, the bottom is murky and all hilly, and you can't quite see across, the wall we are following is a curve, looking up the surface looks mirrored, the ladders that penetrate morph into a kind of escher like confusion. As we cruise along I keep turning back to see stalagmites silhouetted in the deep turquoise of the water, a grand vista. We keep getting closer and closer to those roots and the light and the all of a sudden we are on the surface only to be greeted by a legion of fleshy blond french tourists who have taken over the cenote.
In a bit of a daze we negotiate our way out, watch a man cannon ball in the spot we had surfaced in moment before, collect our gear and go to warm ourselves up in the outside air. It is still dusty and warm outside, but I feel changed, like my center of balance has been thrown off. It takes 20 minutes or so to readjust, to pack, to get back on the road. And off we go, good bye strange other worldy cenote, we are back driving through the long light of late afternoon, past the papaya trees, past the dust, past the spot on the road where I peed, back towards Morelos, towards Mexican beer and a dinner of stirfry, to laughter with friends, towards the future.
Fellow gypsy/vagabond/homeless travelers who make their living on the road and aren't out to prove their superiority over "tourists" but rather need someone who understands what it is like to live on the fringes of other people's vacations are hard to come by. And when I find one all I want to do is sit down and talk shop: the difficulties of constantly being friendly, how impossible it is to have a boyfriend on the road, and the frustrations of wanting to have a simple house plant. Have I mentioned that this lifestyle has made me even more grateful of friendship? Getting to spend all afternoon talking to a like minded soul was like a breath of fresh air.
So after forgoing lunch for dark chocolate, we made our way over to Teraza a small Asian influenced spot with gauzy curtains and paper lanterns blowing in the wind. The restaurant is upstairs on a little terrace (hence the name) with a nice view of the zocalo. As we were finishing up our Oriental Salad (with strawberries, shrimp, aguacate, and a peanutty dressing) and pasta a strange thing happened. All of a sudden a man in a kilt started playing the bag pipes, and then young girls started doing highland dancing. And then I had one of those feeling like, WTF? Where am I? Which isn't that strange of a thing for me, but still Scots in Mexico?
Of course investigating was in order, which for me culminated in a 12 year old girl dressed like a cow girl (picture the cow girl from toy story but in a skirt) dancing some sort of complicated scottish jig. About that time Shannon and I looked at each other and simultaneously thought and said, "Lets get the F out of here." Which we did, but along the way Shannon hugged everyone in town. Finally we sat down and got some margaritas. And man, not two minutes went by before some fucking weird ass Canadians busted up our party inquiring after where to go in Caye Caulker. I kid you not, I asked if they were going to pay me for my advice. That is really the equivalent of asking a doctor to examine you while he is sitting and having a scotch right? Any how they had some bizarre mustache hair growing and we gave them a quick run down on where to go, and they still didn't offer to buy us a drink. Bad manners if you ask me.
So then it was hugs all around, and finally we made it off to bed. The next morning the wind was still blowing so no boats were leaving the harbor, making centoe plotting in order. After a lot of misfires we finally got our motely crew of cenote divers assembled: Tony (20, Texan, Dive Master), Shannon (26, Native Louisianan, Dive Instructor), and me (25 - still!, Californian, DMT - at least I pretend). Now let me set the scene, Tony is the only one who knows where the cenote is, I am downing 1.5L of freezing cold bonafont (my favorite of the mexican waters), Shannon is worrying about a chicano lost somewhere between California and Mexico. Off we go, down the highway, then left on to the cenote road, along the asphalt, then off the asphalt and on to a dust yucatecan limestone road. Of course by then I needed to pee. So like I figured it was the perfect time to try peeing standing up. Right there along the side of the road I pissed myself, or on myself, or something, much to both Tony and Shannon's amusement. After I clean myself up we take off again and soon realize we have lost the cenote. I mean we still know where we are, but we don't know where the cenote is. The thing is that cenotes don't move, so we double back head back the way we came and finally after asking 4 separate mexicans, locate the turn off (the sign had moved, the road had been paved, or maybe Tony chiefs too much) but we were on our way. The Kinh-ha cenote is located down some evily bumpy dirt road, but the day had that feeling of late summer, kind of dusty and hot air, nice breezy all grassy smelling. And there we were rolling along, windows down, music going, friends, laughter, off on an adventure. We pull up to the cenote, load up the gear, check the air, discuss how to remember right hand release on your weight belt (which somehow is still easy to forget), and then waddle off loaded down, ungraceful, and desperate for cool water. Down the ladders to the wooden platform of Kinh-ha cenote which sits under a ceiling of limestone graced with two large circular openings, one has the ladder that leads to the platform, the other is lined with roots like Rapunzel's hair dangling into the sapphire blue water. Weight belt, bcd, fins, mask, off the platform in some twisty lift push launch which turns out more graceful than I had planned and I am in the cool water of the cenote. We bumble about a bit on the surface looking for the line and I start to realize how deep this thing is, the blue starts out a lush jewel tone but quickly darkens to almost black below. A swath of light is cut in the area below the root decorated opening, illuminating the fine roots making them look even more like a honey blond hair trailing in the water. Finally we decide to descend, try to locate the line and then follow it back up. All of us are over-weighted and we fall quickly into the darkness. The water is eerily clear and yet you can't see to the other side, the cenote is round but with layers and layers of stalagmites dripping down, finally at the bottom are silt hills and valleys studded with lost items (spectacles, turtle shells, masks, twigs, etc), and all around are blind cat fish who seems to hang around me for the length of the dive. We find the line, and take off to explore the hills of accumulated organic matter, it is like being on another planet, like walking on the moon. At one point I almost sink into the ground, it stirs up into a murky cloud and I have the feeling that you could keep falling and falling through all that debri. We start tracing a path along the side of the cenote slowly moving higher, exploring the formations, I do somersaults, Tony checks everything out, and Shannon cruises along. The whole time I feel like I am on some strange drug trip, both Shannon and Tony look like they are floating in empty space, it is hard to get your bearings, the bottom is murky and all hilly, and you can't quite see across, the wall we are following is a curve, looking up the surface looks mirrored, the ladders that penetrate morph into a kind of escher like confusion. As we cruise along I keep turning back to see stalagmites silhouetted in the deep turquoise of the water, a grand vista. We keep getting closer and closer to those roots and the light and the all of a sudden we are on the surface only to be greeted by a legion of fleshy blond french tourists who have taken over the cenote.
In a bit of a daze we negotiate our way out, watch a man cannon ball in the spot we had surfaced in moment before, collect our gear and go to warm ourselves up in the outside air. It is still dusty and warm outside, but I feel changed, like my center of balance has been thrown off. It takes 20 minutes or so to readjust, to pack, to get back on the road. And off we go, good bye strange other worldy cenote, we are back driving through the long light of late afternoon, past the papaya trees, past the dust, past the spot on the road where I peed, back towards Morelos, towards Mexican beer and a dinner of stirfry, to laughter with friends, towards the future.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
fotos
Mamma Trish y Pappa Elvis
Cenote outside of Valladolid
El bano de la reina, Palenque.
On the way to San Cris.
Graveyard, Chiapasswimming the halocline
I am running a family trip right now which means that my life pretty much means guiding a really really nice Danish family through the Yucatan. And because they are so nice we didn't go to Tulum (overrated) and instead ended up swimming the afternoon away in Yal-ku lagoon in Akumal. It is the kind of place where giant parrot fish like to come hang out and the kind of place that makes me incredibly happy. The reason I like it so much is because of the halocline, the meeting of cold freshwater from underground rivers and the warm water from the sea. When the two waters mix everything becomes a swirling blurred vision. But if you dive below the point where the two waters meet it suddenly becomes crystal clear. Somehow in that swirling green water, chasing parrot fish, I felt totally at home.
I've been down here for nearly 10 months now and though this is not completely home, I have a sense that neither is California. I worry that no place will ever completely hold me, that I will always feel a longing for another place. Maybe that is just the curse of the vagabond.
Somehow the image of the two waters, both clear on their own but hazy upon mixing feels like my position in the world. Some people live in fresh water and things are very clear for them. Some people live in the sea and things are very clear for them too. And some people live in the halocline, and though we catch sight of clarity at times, more often we live in the haziness of being able to live in both environments.
Lately life has been teaching me that no way is right, no way is better than another, everything just is. As we learn to accept the way things are, the way we are, my haziness is no longer a curse, but a thing of beauty. So that is where I find myself, swimming along in the beautiful confusion of the halocline.
I've been down here for nearly 10 months now and though this is not completely home, I have a sense that neither is California. I worry that no place will ever completely hold me, that I will always feel a longing for another place. Maybe that is just the curse of the vagabond.
Somehow the image of the two waters, both clear on their own but hazy upon mixing feels like my position in the world. Some people live in fresh water and things are very clear for them. Some people live in the sea and things are very clear for them too. And some people live in the halocline, and though we catch sight of clarity at times, more often we live in the haziness of being able to live in both environments.
Lately life has been teaching me that no way is right, no way is better than another, everything just is. As we learn to accept the way things are, the way we are, my haziness is no longer a curse, but a thing of beauty. So that is where I find myself, swimming along in the beautiful confusion of the halocline.
Monday, July 7, 2008
the good stuff
I think one of the great flaws in the human brain is our tendency to focus on the bad stuff. Sometimes I snap out of that cycle and realize what a stunningly great place we live in, how blessed we are to have this chance at being human. Today has been one of those days. I am writing this from highway 180 in the state of Campeche, Mexico.
I spent the morning shooting the shit with my driver Pasqual, who has determined that besides having a small mouth (which sounds weird in translation) I am also atrevida (which translates, at least in mexico, to something like daring and playful). While my group was checking out the ruins at Uxmal we went and got gas, I drank an epic amount of jugo de guanabana and kept throwing the seeds at things, sometime that thing was Pasqual. What can I say? I am pretty sure I still am about 5 years old.
After picking up the crew we headed out on the road. At the state border we were stopped by a super guapo soldier who wanted to check that we weren´t carrying fire arms or drugs in our van. I of course got right into conversation with the soldiers and ended up spell checking their poorly edited sign which concluded with, "hava nice day." They tried to convince me that a local english teacher from Toronto had written it, but the Canadians are way better spellers than that. Anyways after grabbing a photo with the men in uniform we loaded back up to drive away, and as we were pulling back on the road one of the soldiers were pretending to dig out the sign.
I think that one of the things I will miss most in leaving Latin America is the playful approach to life that most people take. People here (for the most part) are more interested in having a human interaction than just getting the job done. An attitude that leads to a lot of laughter at arms and drug patrols.
With that I will leave you.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
cenotes, isla holbox y fotos
Just put up a couple more photos online. About 2% of the many I have right now. I am in Valladolid, hanging with Kerri for my last day off. We went to the local cenotes today and ate mayan soup for breakfast, it's been a good day.
We spent the last two on the Italian hideaway of Isla Holbox, rumor has it that the name means barefoot. I spent most of my time lusting after nutella, eating nutella, and using the internet. Kerri visited the whale sharks. The island was very cool, small, sandy, reminded me a bit of Thai islands, though everyone spoke spanish. It was a nice time, plus it was fun to go somewhere new.
Thee are more stories to be told about Belize, Hopkins, and bread eating with Elvis and Trish. I will get there I swear!
We spent the last two on the Italian hideaway of Isla Holbox, rumor has it that the name means barefoot. I spent most of my time lusting after nutella, eating nutella, and using the internet. Kerri visited the whale sharks. The island was very cool, small, sandy, reminded me a bit of Thai islands, though everyone spoke spanish. It was a nice time, plus it was fun to go somewhere new.
Thee are more stories to be told about Belize, Hopkins, and bread eating with Elvis and Trish. I will get there I swear!
Monday, June 23, 2008
heellooooo myyyyy naaammme is whale shaaark
Yes I will admit the description, "Oh shit! Today wins as the best day EVER." Was not a sufficient explanation for the titillating title. So I am making an attempt to explain what the hell happened out there off the coast of the northern Yucatan. First thing first, you need to know I have been hell bent on seeing a whale shark for a while now. I dragged an entire group of 15 people some of which had never snorkeled before out on the open ocean with out dramamine to suffer through 4 hours of rough seas, vomiting, and saw not a single whale shark. I will give that group credit, not a single one blamed me for the hard headed fiasco. All the same when it came time to encourage another group to accompany me on my second attempt, this time in Mexico, I felt a little apprehensive, but this new crowd of passengers would not be deterred. I will admit that even after my stunning defeat in Honduras I was still excited by Jose's description of ten whale sharks, manta rays, and huge sea turtles that he had seen the day prior.
To set the stage of the trip you need to know a couple things about the night preceeding our 7 am departure...
1. that night we went on a pre-dinner sunset cruise which concluded with me vomiting over the side of the boat (seasickness, not alcohol induced)
2. i didn't go to bed until 4 am that night
3. all i had for breakfast was a granola bar
So at 6:45 when we headed out to the dock I already felt like hell, but was also hell bent on seeing these HUGE fish. I made it all the way out to the feeding grounds without incident, but around the time of our first manta ray sighting I found myself hugging the gunwale and watching the remains of my granola bar float past the boat. By the time we saw the first whale shark I was already puking up florescent yellow bile. The seasickness really isn't that important, really the only reason I bring it up is to emphasize how amazing the whale sharks were. Because as soon as I saw them I didn't care that I had been vomiting all morning or was ass tired. All I could think was, "damn, that is a HUMONGOUS fish!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (And yes, Eva, whale sharks deserve multiple exclamation points, they are that f-ing cool.)
The amazing thing about this location in Mexico is that not only was there one whale shark, there are many whale sharks. All swimming around with their mouths open sucking down huge amounts of water. They are a nice slate gray with white spots and pink mouths. And man, can I say it again? They are really big.
We got to work right away sending the first two people into snorkel with the sharks. They were a Japanese couple and it was pretty funny to see their reaction to getting in the water with this animal. The boat captain kept yelling, "GO! GO! GO!" and then "SWIM! SWIM! SWIM!" And they kept lifting their heads out of the water and just staring at us like, "CRAZY! CRAZY! CRAZY!" And I kept thinking, "If these people are the only ones who get to swim with the whale sharks and the whole time they were staring at us, I am going to loose my shit." But it turns out, you just shit your pants when you get into the water with an animal like that, and it is hard to react, even to simple commands like, "go!" and "swim!"
Emily and I were the third group to go in the water. And I am jumping in thinking I am all hard core with my fancy snorkel and mask. Right away I start swimming after the shark, and then all of a sudden it hits me.... that marine biologist said something about what to do when the shark swims at you.... was it swim away like a crazy person or stay still or act big and growl or crap your pants? And right after that my thoughts go to the fact that though whale is in the name, shark is too. And sharks eat people right? Then I start to wonder who the hell is breathing so loudly and then I realize it is me, freaking out, and breathing like a crazy person. And then I see the damn thing, and it is even bigger when you are in the water with it. FUCK. Then I realize that what I am feeling is the most amazing adrenaline rush I have ever experienced and I start swimming after the shark all over again. My breathing slows down a bit, and I start to get closer and it is..... wow. I find Emily and grab her hand and we swim with the shark, and Jesus, our guide, for like five minutes. It keeps turning towards us, and though I am still scared, it is that type of scared that really should be called awe. Here we are out in the middle of the ocean swimming with the whale sharks.
We start to loose the shark and Jesus tells us to stay where we are and he is going to catch up with two other people in our group. So now Em and I are floating in the swells while the boat and Jesus swim away. Emily starts talking about other sharks and how she thinks that the whale sharks must scare them away with their size. But I am thinking that people-eating sharks aren't a good thought path to go down and am trying to focus on my happy place, about dappled whale sharks swimming through the green water.
After a rest of about half an hour, along with emptying my stomach again, I got to go back in. Though I was still a bit nervous I just swam after the damn thing, this time it was shark 542, a female. She cruised along for a long time about 2 meters under the water, I was swimming just off to her left, some how managing to keep up. Minutes went by and I kept staring at her gills flaring out, pulling the water through them. It was quiet, just the wooshing sound of water going by and my own breathing, and I began to feel like I had fallen into the deep peacefulness you can feel when diving.
I am realizing now that I am not sure I have been blessed with the vocabulary or writing prowess to really convey what an amazing experience the whole thing was. But there you go. I'll leave it at that.
To set the stage of the trip you need to know a couple things about the night preceeding our 7 am departure...
1. that night we went on a pre-dinner sunset cruise which concluded with me vomiting over the side of the boat (seasickness, not alcohol induced)
2. i didn't go to bed until 4 am that night
3. all i had for breakfast was a granola bar
So at 6:45 when we headed out to the dock I already felt like hell, but was also hell bent on seeing these HUGE fish. I made it all the way out to the feeding grounds without incident, but around the time of our first manta ray sighting I found myself hugging the gunwale and watching the remains of my granola bar float past the boat. By the time we saw the first whale shark I was already puking up florescent yellow bile. The seasickness really isn't that important, really the only reason I bring it up is to emphasize how amazing the whale sharks were. Because as soon as I saw them I didn't care that I had been vomiting all morning or was ass tired. All I could think was, "damn, that is a HUMONGOUS fish!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (And yes, Eva, whale sharks deserve multiple exclamation points, they are that f-ing cool.)
The amazing thing about this location in Mexico is that not only was there one whale shark, there are many whale sharks. All swimming around with their mouths open sucking down huge amounts of water. They are a nice slate gray with white spots and pink mouths. And man, can I say it again? They are really big.
We got to work right away sending the first two people into snorkel with the sharks. They were a Japanese couple and it was pretty funny to see their reaction to getting in the water with this animal. The boat captain kept yelling, "GO! GO! GO!" and then "SWIM! SWIM! SWIM!" And they kept lifting their heads out of the water and just staring at us like, "CRAZY! CRAZY! CRAZY!" And I kept thinking, "If these people are the only ones who get to swim with the whale sharks and the whole time they were staring at us, I am going to loose my shit." But it turns out, you just shit your pants when you get into the water with an animal like that, and it is hard to react, even to simple commands like, "go!" and "swim!"
Emily and I were the third group to go in the water. And I am jumping in thinking I am all hard core with my fancy snorkel and mask. Right away I start swimming after the shark, and then all of a sudden it hits me.... that marine biologist said something about what to do when the shark swims at you.... was it swim away like a crazy person or stay still or act big and growl or crap your pants? And right after that my thoughts go to the fact that though whale is in the name, shark is too. And sharks eat people right? Then I start to wonder who the hell is breathing so loudly and then I realize it is me, freaking out, and breathing like a crazy person. And then I see the damn thing, and it is even bigger when you are in the water with it. FUCK. Then I realize that what I am feeling is the most amazing adrenaline rush I have ever experienced and I start swimming after the shark all over again. My breathing slows down a bit, and I start to get closer and it is..... wow. I find Emily and grab her hand and we swim with the shark, and Jesus, our guide, for like five minutes. It keeps turning towards us, and though I am still scared, it is that type of scared that really should be called awe. Here we are out in the middle of the ocean swimming with the whale sharks.
We start to loose the shark and Jesus tells us to stay where we are and he is going to catch up with two other people in our group. So now Em and I are floating in the swells while the boat and Jesus swim away. Emily starts talking about other sharks and how she thinks that the whale sharks must scare them away with their size. But I am thinking that people-eating sharks aren't a good thought path to go down and am trying to focus on my happy place, about dappled whale sharks swimming through the green water.
After a rest of about half an hour, along with emptying my stomach again, I got to go back in. Though I was still a bit nervous I just swam after the damn thing, this time it was shark 542, a female. She cruised along for a long time about 2 meters under the water, I was swimming just off to her left, some how managing to keep up. Minutes went by and I kept staring at her gills flaring out, pulling the water through them. It was quiet, just the wooshing sound of water going by and my own breathing, and I began to feel like I had fallen into the deep peacefulness you can feel when diving.
I am realizing now that I am not sure I have been blessed with the vocabulary or writing prowess to really convey what an amazing experience the whole thing was. But there you go. I'll leave it at that.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
ciao mèxico, belize briefly, hola guate
The last days have flown by, I feel like I was just diving in cenotes in Mèxico, and now I am all the way in Guatemala again. The last week has been all about water, snorkeling, diving, canoeing. I`ve been loving it.
Things are going to have to be a random mix of stories and run on sentences... deal with it...
random free diving, chasing parrot fish who did not seem pleased, laughing when they pooped (they poop sand, really!), racing on to the boat from cozumel in my bathing suit and not caring, though i did freeze to death in the air con (air con on a boat, why???)
cenote diving at dos ojos, silvery fish, fossils, haunting blue light, halocline induced blindness, bats, scaring snorkelers, and being complimented on my efficient breathing.
my final ado bus ride, playa to chetumal, rolling into belize full on, hot, dusty, sweaty, throwing the crew on to the water taxi and getting to Caye Caulker in time for the cake man.
snorkeling adventure in hol chan, sharks, rays, turtles that bite ankles, playing in scuba bubbles, scaring scuba divers, diving through a cave, coconut ice cream, loosing my sarong (booo!!!) and being late for the second time that day.
big evening rally at Rasta Pasta, one barrel shots for the crew, laughing too hard to take a shot, hiding below a belizian house with malcolm in a failed attempt to scare everyone on the way to ocean side, causing a dancing ruckus with kilt clad ali, telling my life story to an englishman, and falling asleep to ocean breezes.
midday roll to san ignacio, with a full on nap to belmopan (i think my pax were impressed by my sleeping skills), late afternoon arrival to the jungle. hanna´s burrito quesadillas (i don`t criticize what they name the food, it`s that good) and a failed attempt at playing scrabble.
canoeing on the makal with feliz, swimming in the falls, considering a new career in canoeing.
ok, enough already, i am sure none of it makes sense anyways. pace.
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