Land before time, Canadian tuxedo, finished garden, stateside

What a whirlwind final two weeks in Guatemala.  Returned from Honduras to familiar faces, Guatemalan comfort food and my beloved bed.   Spent the week working on the aquaponic garden and putzing around.  Went out for Jenn’s bday, got knackered as they say in Australia and woke up with an appropriate hangover given the night we had. 

Rested up, ate some pizza that night and then went to bed early on Friday.   Awoke Saturday to tackle Santiaguito, the active volcano that lies behind Xela.  Nothing too too explosive but you can see eruptions throughout the day as the smoke columns up in Xela’s background. 

So anyway, we arrived at the start point around 730 – me, Jenn, Jeremy (rando other dude) and the guide, Marvin.  Marvin’s the same guide that took Bam Bam, Brian and I to Chicabal. 

So I then find out that we have to hike up and over Santa Maria, an inactive volcano, to reach the base of Santiaguito.  Getting to the top of the ridge we were climbing wasn’t bad at all (tho Bam Bam would have cried! jaja) and we got to the mirador (lookout) around 10am.  Took a nice break, ate a bit, watched Santi erupt a couple times, and then started on our descent towards the base of Santiaguito. 

At first, didn’t seem so bad.  But soon I realized that so few people hike this bastard mountain that there are no trails.  Instead, we worked our way down the volcano using natural runoff canals and animal trails.  As we were bushwhacking our way through the head-high vegetation, volcanic ash covering the forest kicked into the air, covering our everything.   And as one would expect, life for a plant living on a volcano is not so easy.  You don’t have very deep topsoil, good access to nutrition, water runs down the slopes at such a speed it’s almost impossible to drink and oh yeah, your neighbor spits ash on you all day.  I guess it’s kinda like living in plant Compton.  So as such, as plants do in such inhospitable climates, these plants have adopted my life sucks so F you too mentality.   The entire forest scratches, pricks, pokes and simply makes your life hell in general.  As if sweating your balls off wasn’t enough you have to crawl, duck and climb through a forest that’s giving you the middle finger. 

So after a couple hours through the forest we make it to an old lava flow and take that the rest of the way down, slipping, sliding and overall making your thighs burn like a Donna Summers workout video. 

Got to the bottom, ate lunch, then headed up.  Santiaguito’s a much younger volcano, like 50 years old (blew off of Santa Maria) so there’s no eroded lava that’s become dirt or sand.  Instead, we essentially bouldered our way to the top which actually, wasn’t that bad all said and then made camp.   The volcano’s comprised of 3 craters (think Hawaii if you’ve studied geology) and we camped on the one furthest from the active crater.  The mountain has an incredibly surreal feel to it.  Very little flora exists save for this vibrant green algae that covers everything and a few other F you plants.  And because it rains so much, the landscape is peppered with steam vents, making me feel quite like Little Foot looking for his tree star. 

Obviously Jenn and I had the ritual why the F did we just do that joint then we hiked down our crater then up the next one to watch the sassy broad erupt.  And erupt it did.  Epic views, lava flows, smoke and ash galore. 

Hiked moreeee, back to our camp, ate dinner and passed out.  Woke up early the next am, did some high yoga as I watched a few massive eruptions and then did the same hike but in reverse.  I’ll spare you the details. 

Spent the last week tying loose ends, running around, etc.  I guess it’s only apt to finish Central America like I started it – with an absolutely awesome Aussie girl, still with my clothes on.  I met Amy in the back of a pickup riding through the mountains of Honduras.  We got to talking and found out we have pretty much the same degree.  She asked if she could help me with el jardin en Xela and I said why not, thinking she’d never come.   Well jiminy xmas, she showed up.  She helped me a TON in finishing the garden and then we all went out on Friday night.  Drank too much again, dahnced a storm, said no to too many hookers and obvi ended the night eating street food at 4am. 

Not gonna lie, the garden gives me a hard on.  So proud of it, what it means for the project and having so many people in my life that were/are keen on helping out.   So then presented the garden and our One School One Garden project at a community event organized by El Infinito…en espanol.  Nervous?  Yes.  But after a couple early hiccups I regained my probably unmerited cocky sense of public speaking and everything was super mel.  Hopped on a bus to Guatemala City, spent the night, then took the am flight to Dallas.   Still didn’t fully realize where I was going.  Then I noticed the two old, white codgers in front of me purell’ing their seats, arm rests, head rests, the walls next to the seats, everything.  Oh right, going stateside.  Turns out they were missionaries.   How do I know that you might ask?  Because they were reading a “how to lead the Sudanese away from Islam during conflict” book.  Can I just say something?  I think being a missionary is one of the most retarded, futile, imperialistic, oppressive, ignorant things to do with your life. 

The dude had his arm chopped off by rebels, his family was slaughtered, cattle stolen and he has no food to eat.  Let’s take care of those issues before we start trying to “steer” him from the “backward” religion of Islam.  I hope you drown in your Purell. 

So back to my point.   Home in the States.   Yeah, sure it feels a bit weird but man I am glad to be back surrounded by Asian foods.  Ciao.  

gringo-san, first blow, no los comas, i'm a poor bitch, true romance, ruinas, jungle hot springs, fresh 90

Dang.  Just got back from a whirlwind trip through El Salvador, Nicaragua and Honduras.  And apologies in advance but this one's gonna be long.

Left Xela on the 22nd and spent the night in gringoed-out Antigua for some sushi and douchey cocktails.  Next morning we putzed around the city before hopping on a bus to Guate to book the trip for San Salvador the following day.  Got a hold of Kristen (thank Jesus) who lives in the capital and she offered us her place to crash for the night.  She was coming back from the lake so we had some time to kill.  Naturally, we headed to the mall.  The malls in Guate are not typical of Guatemalan life.  For starters, there's a rollercoaster inside.  We sat down for some quite frankly unreal Korean food (cooked by a verifiable Korean lady...is that correct English?  Donno.  I swear I'm forgetting it.)  Then to kill more time, what did we do?  Yeah.  Went to Chuck E. Cheese's and dicked around for an hour or so.  Oh to be young and innocent again.

Got the text from Kristen and headed to her place in the hills.  OMG.  It's nicer than every place I've ever lived in combined.  Like real luxury.  Crashed there and then woke up early for the bus to San Salvador.  Aside from the Tica Bus employees being ginormous cunts, the trip went smoothly.  Made it to San Salvador where I felt the most scared I've been in all of Central America.  Also found it weird that they use the USD there.  Got the hell out of dodge ASAP and took a bus to El Tunco, probably the most gringo place in all of El Salvador.  I mean they have a gluten-free organic granola and smoothie bar.

Spent a couple days chilling on the beach.  The town sleeps pretty early but luckily our tequila lady stayed up to serve us shots from her house, ensuring we kept the party going.  After 1.5 days we got the itch and bounced.  Took a handful of buses to a small nothing town, Utatlan.  Got off the bus starving so naturally headed to Wendy's.  Every one of the approximately 50 people stopped eating, turned around and stared at us.  I suppose 4 dirty white people with backpacks was a bit of a shock.  Nice to feel like an alien again.

After my double bacon cheeseburger (sorry doc, but i swear i've otherwise been keeping an eye on the cholesterol) we tried to catch a cab to a beach town but the dude said it'd cost $50!!  No gracias hombre.  So we hopped on the last bus outta town only to find out that there were no more buses from our transit point that night.  Which I suppose made sense since it's generally pretty ill-advised to be on the road once the sun goes down.

Well turd.  So we went alllll the way to San Miguel, the second largest city in El Salvador.  We spent the night in a $16/night hotel/motel that is typically frequented by hookers and drug dealers.  Well at least as evidenced by the other clientele.  Needless to say we didn't leave the room that night.

Awoke at sunrise and bussed it to El Cuco, a town of about 200 people on the beach.  Had a nice typical bfast of beans, fried eggs and queso with a side of oh yeah, shrimp the size of my hand.  Then started sussing out a place to stay.  The first "hotel" looked like a Thai crack den.  No lights, the shower was just a tap in the corner of the room, etc.  No thanks mano, I gave up crack a long time ago.  I want better accommodations.

So I talked to the lovely restaurant owner about other options and she directed us to La Tortuga, down the beach about 5km.  And what a beach.  Sweeping 210 degree views of the ocean, endless black sand and only local artesanal fishermen to share the beach with.  A 45 min walk down the beach and we were in complete solitude.  Found La Tortuga and were greeted by fresh coconuts.  Holy testicle Tuesday the place was nice.  Like an actual resort in the middle of nowhere.  Hammocks galore, pool, awesome cafe, turtle nesting beds and a live tank with newly hatched turtles.  Tom, the owner, is an eccentric, no, completely insane ex-pat from New York.  He even has a local show, "Viajeros de El Salvador" which we had some guest appearances on planting turtle eggs and releasing baby Leatherbacks.  He speaks "Spanish" during the show which kept me laughing the entire time.  Not only does he have a overly stereotypical gringo accent, but it's just piss poor!  Literally he was saying stuff like "We he freedom turtles and he we make happiness from sand and sun because I to be foreigner."  Oh right, and his "girlfriend" is 40 years younger and doesn't speak English.  True love my friends.  

Lounged for a bit in the morning and then hitchhiked back into down with la nena and bought cana rica, like a more smooth version of vodka made with sugar cane.  And no, the locals insisted it was not rum but vodka.  A fifth runs for $3 so we partied hardy that night.  Being the hairy-chested epitome of a man that I am, made a bonfire and we took the party to the beach...god the sky was just full of stars.

Now in Central America many people poach turtle eggs, selling them to local markets and orange juice vendors.  A lot of people actually Rocky it and crack raw eggs into their OJ in the morning.  And yes, like in most developing countries people believe that odd foods make them more virile.  So obvi I started striking convos with the poachers patrolling the beach in search of nesting turtles and offered to buy all their eggs if/when they found any.  Continued partying til God knows when and then put la chica to bed when she passed out (as usual).  Then Randy burst into the room needing money.  A poacher had just shown up with 126 eggs!  These bad boys are destined for the ocean, not some cholo's OJ I thought.  Bought em all.  Brought the eggs back to the room and started getting ready for bed.  Then the security guard knocked on the door.  Oh God.  What now.  Opened la puerta.  Another poacher had just shown up.  Well why not.  Bought his lot too.

Woke up hungover the next am with ~200 turtle eggs next to the bed.  Now I've woken up after a crazy night partying next to some pretty interesting creatures but turtle eggs were a first.  Planted the eggs, went on a lovely EDM-fueled run to the estuary then hitched a ride to town for more booze and seafood in a shack on the beach.

We started partying with the other group staying at La Tortuga, a group of Aussie surfer bums traveling the world.  They were having a coke-alicious bender that was gonna climax with a visit to the whorehouse in San Miguel (yes, doble sentido).  So I thought to myself, que putas no, I've done worse so why not try it (blow not whores).  Hopped onboard the party train and we all had quite a time partying in the living room/bungalow at La Tortuga.  Honestly though, that'll probably be the last time I do it.  Glad I tried it, but kinda feels like child's play compared to my old days.

So we partied til the sunrise, which I mean just look at the pictures.  Simply ridic.  And as anytime that you're coming down from an upper kids, always make sure you have a substantial amount of weed close by.  So smoked a couple of fatties with the bros as the sun crept out of the ocean.  Promptly passed out after and then got out of bed at 3pm.

Couple of days of later headed to Nicaragua.  Rode about an hour through the hills to the dead port town of La Union, walked out on the tidal flats and then caught a 4 hour boat ride over to Potosi, Nicaragua.  Immigration has to handle about 10 people daily so naturally the guy's a huge dickhead.  It took him a bit over an hour to handle our "paperwork" but after a ton of attitude from him we finally got through.  I mean WTF bro, you really have an issue with the fact that we don't know the name of Guatemala's airport?  Eat a dick dude.

Arrived in Leon and spent a few days wandering around town, cooking good food, etc.  While the kiddies went out volcano boarding, took Ailsa out for round two.  A farewell if you will.  Now again, kids, when a man (much like myself) takes a girl out in a developing country he will often ask around for the most luxurious, expensive restaurant and then apologize to the girl saying "oh sorry, this is the best I could do in a place like this, etc.".  Yeah, no.  I might not have hair on my chest but at least I act like I do.  Took out la nena on a street food crawl around Leon.  First stop - atole stand.  Typically it's a corn/rice based drink but this was more of a sweet pudding with brown sugar.  Second stop - tiny hole in the wall where we shared a plate of ground beef slow-cooked with onions and baby corn with a side of red beans.  Kinda had a nice creole feeling to it.  Then we kept wandering and eventually found ourselves in a giant market.  Walked up to a food stand and offered a custom plate of everything that looked good.  Meat torta, sautéed ground pork, spicy shredded pork slaw.  Money.  And then finished the crawl with a piece of cheesecake and a scratchie lotto ticket.

Went out that night to celebrate our last night together and Hallllloweeen.  Dressed up as mummy's because well, we're poor and on the road.  So we just wrapped ourselves in toilet paper.  Partied, danced, etc. then passed out around 2am.

530am alarm.  Kill me.  Woke up wasted.  Said goodbye to Ailsa and Randypants and then got on a bus for Honduras with Jenn.  Was pretty worried because my CA-4 visa had already expired but frankly too hungover and tired to care.  I was eating uncooked ramen noodles as I waited for the bus for godsakes.

Got to the border, got some food, the carne asada I'm pretty sure was horse jerky (sorry I gave you that plate Jenn!) and then got across the border no prob.  Thank Jesus (hay-zeus).  Got to Tegucigalpa, la capital, and asked for a bus to the remote area of Gracias.  Found out we would have to fly from Tegu so said f that and continued on to San Pedro Sula, the lovely murder capital of the world.  Spent a quick night in the hotel and took the bus for Copan the next day.  Saw the Mayan ruins (Tikal's better), rode in a Tuk-Tuk and took it easy.   Wasn't really planning on drinking but since it's a tiny town with not a whole lot to do, we spent the afternoon on the sauce.  Struck up a convo with a guy over street food who said I HAD to go to this local German brewery.  The only naturally-brewed beer in Central America.  So found it and met the owner, an awesome German dude that married a local chick 15 years ago.  He does in fact follow Bavarian brew law.  Best beer I've had in lemme count, oh right, 6 months, since I've been in CA.

The next day we took a horseback ride through the mountains around Copan which turned out to be quite fun though I felt bad for the poor bastard that had to carry me up those slopes.  Made it up to a lookout point in this tiny town of people living on nothing.  They swarmed us so Jenn threw a few bills their way.  Came back to town and had some lunch.  A small boy tried to sell us these little corn husk dolls they have everywhere.  No, sorry.  Then I watched as he walked up to a local family (rich one) eating lunch.  The fat patriarch didn't even have the decency to say no thanks.  In fact the whole family treated the kid like he was some dog.  Especially odd was seeing how the family's kid, around the same age, acted like the boy was subhuman.  The dad was such a prick I wanted to slice off his fat stomach and fry it in front of him.  But then again I'm not Jeffrey Dahmer so I didn't think about it tooo much.

After lunch took a ride out into the jungle to soak in some hot springs.  OMG, we were in the middle of the jungle, like really.  A couple dozen pools including a steam bath, waterfall back massage and all natural mud spa/bath.  So nice and soooo worth it.  Came back from the hot springs and saw the same kid peddling dolls on the way to dinner.  Started talking to him.  It was 7pm and he hadn't eaten that day.  He lives 2 miles away and walks to town to sell the dolls while his parents work in the park selling other crafts.  His 7 brothers and sisters do the same.  So I invited him to dinner.  He's 8 years old but looks more like 5 or 6.  Kept feeding him until he said no mas porfa.  You know, it does wear on you when you're dicking around on perpetual vacation and you meet people like that.

Woke up at 530am yesterday, took a bus to the border.  Got a fresh 90 days on my passport (woohoo!) and then bussed back to Xela.  Had some chicharrones and other assorted treats along the way but all in all uneventful.  Back home and back to work for the last two weeks in Guatemala.

Made plans for the next 6 or so months of my life so wanted to give an update.  Gonna be SF in for a few weeks in December (rollllllnrave!!) then driving down through Mexico with Alby (yes, the nutter from Oz I was with in Vietnam).  Then traveling back up through Mexico with Alby, kicking it in LA for a couple weeks then doing SE Asia with la nena before flying to London to meet Alby for the Mongol Rally.  After that, solo dios sabe.  Nos vemos pronto amigos.

young blood, craters, el lago, end of BPY?, move yo feet don't stop dahncing

Bam Bam's quick trip was quite the whirlwind.  Besides rattling his cage and welcoming him to daily life in Guatemala, we did quite a bit in just a few days.  Hiked Chicabal, an extinct volcano that now hosts a crater lake and some pretty money views.  It's now used for a myriad of Mayan rituals, which was an added bonus seeing the altars around the lake.  The SF duo thought the hike was killer but I'd say it was about 10% as difficult as Tajulmolco...sorry friends haha.

Partied our faces off, owned the dahnce floor as per usual on Wednesday then headed to Lago Atitlan on Friday.  Finally made it there and wow how awesome.  The lake's surrounded by a handful of extinct volcanoes with views galore.  The chicken bus creeps in over the mountain tops and you wind down into town, the meanwhile having your mind blown by the views.  Did some eating, drinking and kayaking then came back to Xela on Friday.

Came back on Friday just in time to start boozing again.  On the way to dinner I called an audible and took the ladies to a local cantina.  AKA a kinda restaurant/bar in the back of a typical tienda.  So a few plastic tables, loud music, wasted Guatemalans and cheap booze and food.  I'm not sure who enjoyed it more.  Us or the wasted locals shocked to def that three white people would come in and drink there.  Went to dinner then obvi out to da club.  In some wasted stream of thought I asked my friend Ailsa out to dinner.  I've been thinking for a while that the time's come to ease my way out of BPY.  I mean don't get me wrong, it's been undoubtedly one of the best times of my life.  Just I feel that two years of BPY'ing has refreshed me and granted me new perspectives on life, love and relationships after the two cunts I dated back-to-back before.  So as my teacher says, it's time for the next step.

Anyway, la chica's a pretty interesting dichotomy of a party-loving princess and an ICU nurse that wants to work in disaster relief.  Yeah, my kinda person.  So we went out to Thai, yes Thai, and it turned out to be phenomenal.  Went out with the other homies again that night, back to class after a few hours of sleep then back out on the town last night.  I'd like to say I'll be taking a break from the sauce but I don't see that happening.  Leaving for El Salvador this afternoon.  Likely will fit in Nicaragua and Honduras but vamos a ver doggies.  Que Dios les bendiga.

silicone, you can dahnce if you want to, smores, dead jesus

Gross if you thought I would start a blog post with fake breasts from the title.  No, this week we broke ground on the aquaponics gig hur in Xela.  I brought the materials over to Juan Pablo's house and the chickies from my program came along as well.  We didn't have all we needed so we really just started with siliconing the seams and filling the spaces in the wooden growbed.  Mas to come this week.

Wednesday turned out to be quite the day.  Played soccer between schools on a mini astro-turf soccer field.  It was kinda a battle of the incompetents but fun nonetheless.  I've never seen someone miss a soccer ball so much as I did with Ailsa.  Well maybe Rosita.  Then I picked up Chinese food and the lot of us met at my place to watch the debate.  Actually, not bad Chinese food.  Warmed my soul a bit.  Ended up getting my drank on witnessing the debacle before we headed out around 11.  We were on the way to the usual dank and divey Pool and Beer when I called an audible and we headed to the somewhat douchey Parranda.   I mean sure it was douchey as usual but with my wasted state and the lack of appropriate dahncing I've had recently, I think the whole town knew we had a great time!  Yeah, I mean Randy pants and his latino culo over there was dancing up a salsa storm but I do maintain that Ailsa and I held up our own even if we might have caused a few danceflo casualties.

Headed to Tulate otra vez this weekend and again, the WTF am I feel of Tulate didn't disappoint.  Hopped on a bus around 11am (thanks pareja lenta) and made it to Tulate around 3:30.  Fishermen were just unloading their catch on the dock so naturally we picked up a couple lbs. of jumbo shrimp.  Took the boat across the river, walked along the black sand for 30 min or so and arrived to our ruvrey beach bungalow without another soul in sight.  Hit the sauce, soaked up the rays brah, cooked dinner and passed out around 10.

Awoke round 7am the next day, Jason Bourne'd it down the beach again, bought food and came back to mimosas and a veggie scramble.   Continued on the train to blackout town during the day, met up with Breh's friend Kristen and then helped the local sea turtle program release hatchling Leatherbacks into the sunset.  I may or may not have had a semi.  Cooked some mas shrimp for din and then got a bonfire started.  Sorry for drinking all your booze Kristen, but yeah, the Xela crew did as they do best and lost themselves.  Spent the night storytelling around the bonfire (with smores!), went skinny dipping with bioluminescent plankton and then watched as Randy and Ailsa collapsed like dead Jesus.  Put the kiddies to bed then had like a forever therapy sesh with Jenn (dat her job) about life and que putas I'm doing.  Good times.

Got up, bussed it back to Xela and met up with Bam Bam in the hood.  So bro'ing out this week, que dios les bendiga.  ciao.

herro der, ugh just go on sin mi, nuevo hombre

So this writing gig turns out to be pretty sweet.  Sure, like realistically, I am really just writing college applications (the drafts they give me are garbage) but eh, I like to write, it's easy and it allows me to keep my feet moving around the world.

My package finally (!!!!) came last week and with it, contacts, shoes, clothes and obvi my preciouuuuus.  My computer.  God what a relief.  People tell me I seem like a completely new man with shoes and all, not to mention my morning after flanny.  For them ho's that be cooking me bfast the morning after.  No, not really.  But it does make me sound cool and significantly less celibate than reality.  For XMAS I think I'm going to mail the cronies at DHL my poop.  Let's hope it doesn't get stuck in customs for 3 months like my package.

And with my precious I've been downloading an obscene amount of fresh music.  Gawwd I miss the rollnrave diet.  Can't wait to rock out stateside in a couple months.   Also, the lion mane I have on my head has really become untame.  Not sure when the transition to brush is supposed to happen but combing my head hurts.  Maybe it's cuz I use a cheap Cathay Pacific comb or is there some cutoff length when you gotta start using a brush?  Solo dios sabe supongo.  That would be a great article for a men's version of cosmo.  Or is that what GQ is?  I donno.  If you're straight and reading GQ you should rethink some things.

Las gallinas convinced me to hike Tajulmoco, the highest point in Central America, last weekend.  I do love hiking but usually just too lazy to do it knawadimean?  So we went with the local Gringo organization, Quetzaltrekkers, really a group of half-retarded 20-something ex-athletes with little in the way of career prospects and overly inflated egos.  Oh right, and they've only creeped on like 10 of my friends in the most juvenile manner.  "Oh well since my hand just slipped into your pants can I just take them off of you!?!"  Idiots.  Anywho.

Woke up at 4am on Saturday morning.  Turd.  Smoked a J and ate some saltines.  Felt slightly better.  Met up with everyone else at HQ.  Hopped in the back of a cargo truck and stared at the stars en route to the bus terminal.  Jumped in a thankfully uncrowded chicken bus for the 1.5 hour ride to San Marcos where we ate some bfast.  Took another 1.5 hour ride, this time on a painfully crowded chicken bus, to the base of the beast.

And there she was, that bald bitch eyeing us in the background.  We geared up and started trekking.  Not exactly sure how heavy the pack was but I was carrying enough layers for a Snowpocalypse, 4L of water, a tent and a sleeping bag.  Through the combination of my pack, the altitude and probably the fact that I smoke, the hike up the mountain was pretty tough.  Not like the hardest thing ever but I definitely enjoyed our breaks along the way.

We had uncannily perfect weather the entire time.  The journey up awarded us jaw-dropping views of the surrounding towns and mountain ranges.  We hiked until about 1pm when we made it to base camp, nestled in a lil meadow.  Set up camp and spent the afternoon relaxing, napping and soaking up the views.  The fog started to roll in and since we planned to summit for sunrise, I spent the evening passing the time precisely as you should when you're in the middle of nature.

The guide shook us awake in the tent at 3am.  Mahh.  No J this time.  Hopped out of the tent to be punched in the nuts by the cold.  But I complain too much.  The fog had cleared while we slept, giving way to stunning night skies.   We hiked (really crawled and climbed) the remaining 1500 or maybe 2K feet with headlamps lighting the way.   We finally reached the summit as the first few rays of sun poked up over the horizon.  Behind us sat the full moon illuminating the volcano's crater.  To the right, Santiatiguito, the volcano behind Xela, started erupting.  And in front, the sunrise.  Had a michelada toast and a morning sesh to welcome the day.  Pretty epic morning.  All in all, def def worth the hike.

Heading to the beach manana for some warmth, finally.  hasta la proxima vez muchachos.

rookie mistakes, futbol, new food, peludo

Everything continues good here, como usual.  Mainly been focused on the food security project and trying to figure out my life.  Looks like I'll be staying in Central America for a while (woohoo!) and "tutoring" Chinese kids writing their college essays.  Working remotely doing rudimentary writing.  Yeah, sign me up playa.

Had a new student come in last week who's friends with the Florida kunts.  You know, the medi-sluts from the summer.  Apparently one of the teachers made him swear he wouldn't tell me that he's friends with them cuz if he did I'd "eat him alive."  Lolz well he's actually a pretty cool dude albeit a bit of a princess.  We went out one of his first nights here and grabbed a few drinks.  He went to the bathroom and when he came back mentioned how unique and ostentatious the sink was in the bathroom.  "Yeah, it's like a waterfall sink with an exposed pipe cascading water down this wall.  Hmm, I wondered.   Went to the bathroom myself.  Bahaha almost pissed myself when I saw what he was talking about.  The "exposed pipe" was dripping water into a tiled trough.  "Yeah dude, you just washed your hands in the urinal."

I mean sorry, this isn't South Beach.  We don't have trendy waterfall sinks in Guatemala.  Just a pipe that someone haphazardly drilled holes into to wash the piss and vomit down the drain.

We went to a Xelaju soccer game last weekend which was quite unbelievably awesome if you ask me. The four of us spent the afternoon boozing at my place and then stumbled over the stadium.  Testicle Tuesday what a spectacle.  First, off the food and drinks are the same price as outside the stadium.  Food stands with heat lamps and bright neon signs don't exist.  Instead, open flames grilling all kinds of food abound beneath the bleachers.  As for the stadium, think about the new Yankees Stadium or Dallas Cowboys crib and then imagine the exact opposite.  Dirt floors, no Jumbotron and loonies lighting off fireworks in the crowd.  Xela won 2-0, omggg like yeaaaaah i was soooo exciiiiiited.   Anyway, back to important stuff - had the second dinner outside of the stadium, called a shuko.  Essentially it's a meat monster on a bun - 3 kinds of sausages covered in guac, cheese and bacon.  Bumblebee tuna hit me wit dat foo.

In the absence of Colbert or Jon Stewart down here I've been watching tons of Fox News.  Warning: if you actually watch Fox News to obtain your news and worldly opinions you should stop reading here. And in fact, you probably shouldn't even read my blog because I doubt we'd get along on most things.  

For starters, what a hero this Sean Hannity guy is.  He must have some of the most maniacally-twisted, misguided, imbecile opinions I have ever heard.  And why do all the female anchors on Fox News look like cheap strippers?  Sure I'd prob toss them a few GW's to take their tops off but that certainly does not mean that what they say is of any value.  Oh and don't even get me started with that obnoxioulsy faked-tanned oompa loompa that was covering the RNC.  Like WTF?  How can the Fox News team really espouse such myopic, naive opinions about the economy and financial health of the country?  Right, we have 8% unemployment.  Spain has 25%.  Sure, not a fair comparison but who really believes that by farting mormonic rainbows and outlawing abortion we'll reduce unemployment to 0%?  How can you even believe that 0% unemployment is possible?  What are you six?  That said, I'm looking forward to 10/3.  I hope Obama takes a dump on that guy's chest.  En espanol, espero que Obama se cargue encima del pecho de ese hueco.

Good talk, vaya con dios.

real barefoot living, mordidas, adaptation, independence day

Been a while.  Apologies.  I've been burning too much time lately dealing with the incompetents over at DHL to get my maldito package liberated from customs.  I finally got sick of this mess so took the 3am bus to the capital yesterday.  God so tired.  I arrived in Guate around 9am with that empty pit in your stomach you have when you're overly tired, kinda like when you've just been kicked in the nuts.

But I knew what to do.  Got off the bus, headed two blocks down and to the right.  Meat Street Money.  Yeaaahh.  The street is lined with vendors selling all kinds of grilled meats - ribs, carne asada, pollo asado, pork chops, all kinds of sausages, etc.  I went for the mdm standard, plate of chorizo and eggs with refried beans and queso fresco and obvi a side of tortillas.  After some sustenance and soaking up the early morning sun, felt energized to take on the tards at DHL.

Cabbed to the Customs office where an overly helpful Customs official walked me through the process.  Hit a wall, bussed to the DHL office.  Side note, the level of security on the bus made it feel like I was riding an armored truck full of treasure.  Dealt with the dickheads at DHL, paid exorbitant customs fees and then the Customs official turns to me, says he's gonna leave and then "uno".  "Oh right, I thought, here's the 1 Quetzal for your bus ride back to the office."

"No, one hundred," he shyly corrected me.  Hmm, first time I've been asked for a bribe from a government official.  I told him I didn't ask for any of his help and I just couldn't pay him.  He softly insisted and then I just started to feel bad.  Here he was, a man of my Pad's age, likely with a family, begging a 25 year-old foreign punk in a corporate office for $12.  It's also interesting that the same word for "bite" is slang for "bribe" in this country.  So I gave him a few bucks for his troubles, said farewell to the DHL dimwits and made the afternoon bus back to Xela...without my package.  But apparently tomorrow's the day.

Other than that escapade, I've been keeping pretty mel and living the life here.  Aquaponic gig continues, still running the after school program in the afternoon and teaching some English on the side.  Teaching English is surprisingly fun, I think mainly because I don't wear shoes and I teach like Cheech in "Born in East LA".  So don't be surprised if you meet a Guatemalan traveling in the US saying stuff like, "Yo sup dude, ain't no thing but a chicken wing."

Met some new people through the school on both spectrums - some super awesome and others horrifically pathetic excuses for human beings.  It always surprises me when people come to a place like Guatemala and just complain about everything.  Sorry, this isn't princess-fun-land ya'll.  But it's amazing how easily you can get acclimated if you're open to it.  My life here has become as routine to me as chugging coffee as I rode the 22 to an office of rich white people to stare at a computer screen and feign importance all day.

I generally wake up around 730 to a breakfast that can vary.  Sometimes it's an amazing BCB (blue collar breakfast) including eggs, sausages, beans, cheese and tortillas.  Other times, I eat cereal or moshe (corn mush) which I euphemistically call baby vomit.  I skip bfast at least once a week, usually when I'm hungover, and I come to the school to make my hangover ramen.

Yes, there are packs of feral dogs that roam the streets here.  And yes, cats chase rats on my tin roof at night making it sound like some bat out of hell is trying to pry his way in to my room.  Sometimes when it rains, slugs creep their way into my baño to hide from the elements, so yeah, sometimes I step on slugs on my way to the toilet in the middle of the night.

True, hot water comes and goes at times and the option to take a bath is a public bath located in the mountains, located next to a shrine to a drunken, adulterating Mayan idol dressed as a cowboy.  Electricity is really quite expensive here compared to local wages so people actually conserve electricity in Guatemala.  And when a student demands more power for their hair straigtener, sorry, but the family doesn't really understand the point.

Wearing heels here sucks because, well, so does the quality of the streets.  And sure, people throw trash on the streets because, well, there's no infrastructure really to collect and process all the trash.

But when foreigners come here and make comments like "omg, why don't they just hire people to clean the streets?" or "awww, poor homeless dogs, they're sooo hungry.  How dare someone leave them like that?"  I just cringe.  This is a country where over half the children are chronically malnourished - the 3rd worst in the world.  Only Yemen and Afghanistan have higher rates of chronic malnutrition.  This is a place where seeing 6 year-olds dig through trash with their parents looking for scraps and recylcing instead of attending school is commonplace.  Groups of kids 8-10 make a living on the streets, shining shoes, hauling firewood, etc.  Kids are genuinely happy playing with a used, one-legged Barbie doll and an old cereal box that's been "renovated" to be a Princess Castle.  It's normal to see a 70 year old woman lugging 30 lbs of clothes for miles, trying to sell just a couple items to buy food later.

So don't tell Sarah McLaughlin, but no, I don't feel bad for the dogs here.  Sorry, but they're living better than most of the people in this country.  Oh, and they do have street cleaning here if you would wake up early enough.  Between 5am and 7am teams of "volunteers" from rural communities clean the streets here in exchange for a bag of food (some beans, rice and oil).

But it's not all bad.  The market 10 feet from where I work sells 20 kinds of fresh fruit and barrels of perfectly ripe avocados for pennies on the dollar.  They sell carnitas and chicarrones by the pound on the street.  Markets here are a sensory overload of smells, sounds and activity - how can I buy a delicious tamale next to a stand selling panza (cow stomach) and then walk to another stall to buy bootleg DVDs?

Despite being poor, people aren't trying to rip you off left and right.  There's an overwhelmingly strong sense of pride and dignity in this country.  Of course, not always, like when bus drivers tell you they're going to your destination just cuz they want your money, but it's humbling to see some of the great lengths parents take to care for their children here.

Among all this, Guatemala's natural beauty continues to amaze me.  Like riding through the mountains back home yesterday - just surrounded by huge forests with volacoes poking up in the distance.  For such a green country, it's crazy to me that so many people starve.  And that because of the lack of infrastructure, many people think the best place for trash is the side of the highway, scaring mountainsides with derrumbes de waste.

If you couldn't tell, I love the life here.  All of it.  I'm not sure if Ina Garten would approve of it, or if she would say that one could find "good tomatoes" or "good olive oil" or "good butter" here but I like living here because it opens my eyes.  This is how most of the world lives.  Not lounging in the Hamptons buying $18 hydroponic butter lettuce to merely decorate a dish for your closeted gay husband (I mean comon Ina!  It's sooo obvious).  But it puts things in perspective, makes you appreciate what you have and what it takes to acquire what you don't.

vaya con dios viejos.