Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Shot in the butt. And more...

What is all this nonsense about Erin not participating in blogging? I´m pretty sure that if Courtney were one of the seven dwarves who was cut out of S. White, she would be Neurtsy.


Now, for those of you sitting on the edge of your guts awaiting news of the health of one Neurtsy/Cornqueque/or COurthouse CLine, I am pleased to inform you that the afformention shot in the butt did more than just humor me, it pretty muched extinguished el Parasito. Indeed, the fight between 10 foot Parasite vs. 10 foot COurtney has come to a crippling end for Parasite.


Now to the stuff that really matters. Í´m not quite sure where Courtney left off with this whole blog business, so here are a select few things we have done/learned/or seen in the past few places, etc.


1. We learned the names considered for the Seven Dwarves including Neurtsy, Shirty, Sneezy Weezy, Biggo Ego, and Hungry. Looking at the list, I´m pretty sure that my Dad has been accidentally called at least 65% of the names. His name is Smokey. BTW.


2. We´ve seen just how strong the human neck can be. Or at least the Guatemalan neck. The locals here carry everything on their heads, really. So far we´ve seen huge bundles of wood, chickens, desks, multiple crates of apples, and a plethora of mystery bags 3 times the size of the person that´s carrying it. Courtney and I have been practicing strapping our bags to our heads as to fit in better with the locals. Now, I pretty much can´t tell if I´m walking next to Courtney or a 3 and a half foot mayan woman... I think it´s working.


3. We ate dinner in the middle of an animal SUper'Highway at Lago Atitlan. What started out as a friendly pat on the head to some local dogs, landed them on top of our table during dinner. At one point we had 3 dogs staring at us/climbing on us and licking our plates from one side, and a madre cat and her kitten sneaking up on the other side of the table. It was actually pretty hilarious. Courtney had to hold our plates in the air for about 5 minutos.


4. We´ve become pretty much fluent in 2 of the indigenous languages here. They all include a lot of clicking of the tongue.
5. I was nearly electrocuted in the shower when I reached up and touched the showerhead adorned with varous wires.
6. We watched a giant turkey walk along a roof.
7. We were passed by a loud, little truck with two baboons running around in a cage in the back.
8. We jumped rope with a little Guatemalan family at a semi-sacred Mayan site.
9. To be continued. We really only came in to use the internet to escape a little kid whose been following me for about an hour. I think we lost him...



Tuesday, July 29, 2008

On good friends and bad Spanish

Another wonderfully Spanish spoken encounter of mine -
Me: " I want to be a teacher"
Waitor: "What do you want to teach?"
Me: "Little kids."
Waitor: "You like little kids?
Me: "Nice to meet you."

While walking down the street, we were called, "Sweetie! Hey Barbie." It´s nice that someone finally acknowledged the resemblance.

Two days ago, I cracked and went to the doctor, whom I wouldn´t have found without Erin. Actually, I would not have been able to do a lot of things without her. If we relied on my Spanish, we would probably end up in Peru.
Doctors here work quite differently. She didn´t even ask for my name until all meds were given. I got four sets of meds to take over the next 10 days, and I was also given a shot. In the butt. This was quite hilarious, with Erin sitting there, and the woman saying, "Please get rid of some more" - meaning my pants. I do believe, however, that this is a trait of an excellent friend . . . one who will sit with you while you get stabbed in the bare behind.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Bleck

So . . . my sickness has not subsided. It may have, in fact, gotten worse. This is day 7 of my stomach´s rebellion. I´m pretty dehydrated, but can´t keep anything in, and I´m about ready to jump ship. A few days ago I tried eating healthy - vegetables and such. No good. I then tried blandness - no good. I decided yesterday, if my stomach was going to hurt no matter my approach, I might as well eat a lot, since I was starving and sick of plain bread. This turned out to be the worst idea yet, go figure. I was in the bathroom every 20 minutes throughout the night, waking up every poor person in our room (except Erin, who now has a cold. We´re basically just a pile of awesome, and the epitimy of health). By 2 a.m. I decided to station myself on a bench outside the toilets to make it easier on myself and my roomies. I just started anouther round of meds, so here´s hoping one more time.

I have been on a top bunk, and the poor guy below me . . .
I keep dropping things on him in the middle of the night. So far, he´s had a brush, candy, money, a water bottle and a book land near his face. I´ve actually dropped money on him 3 separate times, and the last time he sleepily said, "Are you dropping money on me? Are you trying to solicit me with money? I can´t be bought for that cheap." I told him I had accidentaly been dropping money on him for a while, to which he replied, "Next time, just write me a check, it will be easier."

Friday, July 25, 2008

Another day in Guaty

The last three towns we have been to have been wet and cold. This has resulted in a ton of wet clothes, never having opportunity to dry. Today, a week and a half after the start of this adventure, with no trip to a laundromat, we smell a bit like death. Well, not quite death (yet), but really wet and possibly-in-the-process-of-molding laundry. Aren´t you sad you aren´t with us?

Language class yesterday was good, but also a little depressing. When I learn what words actually mean, I find out what I´ve actually been saying. I found out the verb sentir is to feel, and not to sit, as I had thought. Discovering this led me to realize that on the boat ride through the canyon 3 days ago, I asked our tour guide, "Is it possible for me to feel near my friend?" He looked very confused, and a little concerned, but said yes. I got up to move, but he yelled, "NO!!" as the boat pulled away and knocked me into my seat.

So far, this country has proven to be the land of street side shoe shining, turkey vultures and cowboy hats. Oh, and men who like to whistle and wave at us. We might start wafting our wet laundry at those guys, that´ll show ém how attractive we are. We haven´t explored this town to it´s potential - it is supposed to be the best in Guatemala. We miss our last town in Mexico; the hostel, our friends, and the festivities. Today I have Spanish class (Erin is undecided), and we are going to learn how to weave. Hopefuly we will exert ourselves enough to discover the lure of this town . . .

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Oh, there you are Guatemala

8 days later and we have finally reached our destination. Did I mention yet that we haven´t been in Guatemala? Well, we haven´t been in Guatemala. We have been trucking through Mexico, mostly the Yucatan Peninsula. We hadn´t actually planned on Mexico at all, but while we were there we couldn´t resist. Our long vacation of 33 days is quickly seeming insufficient to see all that is calling to us.

I had a rough night with bouts of attack from my parasite. This morning, however, was quite pleasant. I found that my stomach is quite at peace unless I am walking with a large backpack or driving on bumpy, windy roads. This turned out to be perfect for our 10 hours on chicken buses through the awesomely paved roads of Guatemala. I am quite thankful for the refuge of a hostel. Probably more miserable than the bumps that tossed around my loose intestines, however, was eating bland bread and water while Erin oohed and ahhed over her avacado, cheese and cilantro sandwich. "I am such a good chef!" She continually reminded me.
I actually think the people from the crazy coke church might be on to something. I bought some ginger ale, and every burp made me feel a little better, like I was expelling evil spirits with each one. Tomorrow I might be ready to sacrifice a rooster.

When we arrived, in the dark, to this town of Quetzaltenango, we had a hard time getting directions to our hostel. People continually pointed us in different directions, which we have found is common in here. If they don´t know the way, they will point somewhere anyway. We have ran circles around cities because of this.

My Spanish is pretty ridiculous. Today I translated "Guianos Senor" as Mr. Guides or Man Guides - I couldn´t decide which was better, but thought either way it meant guides that were male. Nope. This meanes "Guide Us Lord." Yeah, slightly off.

Tomorrow we will explore this new city and look into language courses, because I obviously need it. Two days ago, I was trying to ask a man of the salsa was spicy. He said no, and I tried to see, "Really, is that the truth?" Instead I asked, "Is it closed? Are you closed?"

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Coca Cola, an Aligator, and yes, still a parasite

It is unlikely that Erin (or air-ee-na as she is called here) will be partaking in this blog business, so you have to deal with updates from me and my perspective.

Yesterday we visited a little indigenous (there also is no spell check, so you have to deal with that as well) village outside our city. It was very cute and colorful . . . until we reached the CRAZY part. Our friend Miguel from Mexico City continually said, "They are so crazy, this crazy town. This crazy chickenland crazy town." There were roosters all over the place - in crates, in the roads, hanging upside down in women´s hands, and being sacrificed in the church. Oh yes, the church. There is a church where the floor is covered with pine needles, they rever John Baptist above all else, they melt wax candles to the linoleum floor, and they sacrifice chickens here. There are shamans that perform these rituals to cure sick people (if you are not very sick, they use eggs. If you are really sick, they sacrifice a rooster). While we were wandering through all the candles and chanting, we saw one rooster in the process of sacrifice, and one already dead. But I have yet to mention the strangest thing about the church. Coca Cola is very sacred and part of every ritual. Yes, coke. They drink the coke, and the burping is supposed to expel evil spirits. People, even those not sick, are advised to drink coke before entering the church to experience the power and to be blessed. We forgot to do that piece, but it was still very interesting to see coke all over, among the candles being blessed.
In this town we also found a cemetery, with mounds everywhere!! It was pretty creepy to walk between oval mounds, knowing there were people right next to you.

Today we went on a boat ride through a beautiful canyon. We actually weren´t planning on going this morning, but our friend Miguel had already booked it for us, and we were tied into paying either way. If we were paying, we might as well be going. I shouldn´t have gone due to my new parasite friend, but not wanting to waste money trumped my screaming stomach. On the ride we saw monkeys, pelicans and an aligator. It was really cool!!

Now, I continue to battle the parasite. It´s gotten really bad . . . I haven´t eaten in a day and have ´gotten rid of´ everything I´ve eaten in the past month. Yikes. I just now got some medicine for it, so here´s hoping . . . .

Monday, July 21, 2008

Knock knock, whos there, a parasite

Bits of a very interesting conversation with whimsical-underwearless-hippie . . .

"I dont do drugs, I connect with the sacred plants of the world (mushrooms mostly)."
"I learn things every time I do shrooms. I call it Going To University because I learn so much."
"I dont know any Spanish now, but when I go into the Palenque Ruins (Mayan ruins we had been to) I am going to do shrooms. Before I do them, I am going to ask the mushroom spirit to teach me Spanish, and I have no doubt in my mind that I will come out on the other end of that experience fluent in Spanish."

Quite an interesting lady for sure. It was hilarious and intriguing to hear her perspective on life, and learn of her many experiences. When we left, she wished me well in life and sincerely hoped I would myself partake in the "real fruit of the world."

We had a spare three hours yesterday before our journey continued further south (we have not hit Guatemala yet), and so we decided to catch a bus to some waterfalls. The bus dropped us next to a family that swarmed us screaming, "Mango!!" and thrusting dozens of mango cups in our face. We bought some, then walked in the pouring rain for 20 minutes with our drenched Mango soup. Because of our excellent planning and decision making abilities, we were only able to swim by the waterfalls for 10 minutes before a wet hike back up, but swimming in that secluded water hole in the middle of the jungle was SO AWESOME!! It was definitely worth our ten minutes.

Now we have made camp at a hostel in the town of San Cristobal de Las Casas. We ran into our Irish friend from a few towns ago, and we have befriended some new, loud, Dutch friends. No one can pronounce their names, so they have nicknames like Waldo (from wheres Waldo) and Rude boy. The one called Rude boy . . . his name is actually Ruud, but pronounced with about 70 extra letters and some throatal grunting.

I have a parasite backpacking through stomach, he has been there two days now. I have gotten to know him so well, I have named him Jose. Erin had a smaller, briefer bout with one yesterday - hers was undeserving of a name. Jose is, in fact, calling me now, so I will leave you with that.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

The last three days in a super nutshell

Tacos, bedbugs, tacos, Erin!, tacos, Mariachi man in love with Erin´s temple, bedbugs, tacos, a missed bus stop, an unexpected city, tacos, a new Irish friend, bedbugs, Mayan ruins with new Irish friend, tacos, a missed bus, a different bus, no sleep on 9 hour bus ride with driver whose foot had a love affair with the brake peddle, busbugs, an unexpected city, tacos, new whimsical-underwearless-hippie roommate, more awesome Mayan ruins with super sweet guide (that we paid mucho for because we are fools, FOOLS!, at money conversion) . . . we became fluent in Mayan, chatted it up with a man named Sunday and soaked ourselves in jungle downpour.

Agenda for the night? Tacos and bedbugs.
And avoiding sitting across from underwearless roomy.

¿Mas preguntas?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

¡Bienvenido!

Eureka, I have found it!
I can´t quite digest the fact that I am now sitting in an internet cafe in Cancun . . .
I was supposed to be at the Portland airport at 6 am to catch my flight. I was still packing up my house, in Bellingham (5 hours away) at 11:30 pm. My roommate finally called and said, "Just leave!! I'll finish the house," I conceded and left her the mess. Sorry Lindsay. I booked it to Puyallup for a quick sandwich and hug from my mom, then sleepily, and frantically, sped to Portland. A groggy Elizabeth dropped me a the airport at 5:50 a.m, where I was involved in a Home Alone type sprint through the airport.
I had a whole row to myself on the plane, which was wonderful for passing out in. I landed in Mexico City and had a connection to Cancun, which I almost missed. I didn´t account for the time change (2 hours), so I took my time to buy a sandwich, read my book and rest. Before taking a nap, I decided to make sure I was sitting at the right gate. Upon asking, I got a frantic look, and the woman yelled, ¨Puerta 21!" Her frantic-ness told me I should probably hurry. Another sprint through the airport found me at Puerta 21 as they were closing the gates. Go me.
By a series of lucky strokes, I have made it to Cancun, and have had a pretty randomly hilarious time so far.

On the plane I made friends with Josh from Oregon. He, on our previous connecting flight, made friends with Josh from New York and Daniel from California. They all decided to follow me to my hostel (a very small, quaint, sickeningly hot-with-no-air-flow, place. We are sleeping in room GRYFFINDOR. Hooray for Harry Potter fans across the world).
To know the hilarity of my little possy though, you must know more about them. Oregon Josh is an alcohol and drug counselor in a wilderness program. He grew up wanting to be a cowboy, and frequently takes trips to Mongolia, where cowboy enthusiasts are fruitful. He works on a mule farm in his spare time, and is currently in Mexico to attend a better-yourself workshop. New York Josh is also part a New York Mafia-esque organization - he´s in the drug business. They exported (as he says) him to Oregon to deal. This Josh is hippie extreme. He has dreadlocks down to his knees and, "loves to chill where people are having a good time." He hasn´t worked a job in 8 years, and has been surviving and travelling off his drug money. Daniel is a very skinny, pale, clueless guy. He recently overcame skin cancer, and is using his time and money from disability to travel. He also is part of the drug cartel, growing and selling shrooms from his 6 acres in Oregon. He is very timid and awkward, and vegan to boot. He has come to Central America with hopes of investing in some land.

After all our long travels, we went out for fish tacos and cerveza. Daniel´s system can´t take food very well, so he brought along a bottle of enzymes, and a bag chalk full of medicine to protect him from every possible headache, stubbed toe, broken elbow or parasite he could possibly ever encounter. I think he was expecting dinner to be licking the dirt road . . .
Anyway, as a group, we were pretty random and pretty hilarious. Mafia Josh would talk about business being slow on the LSD front while Oregon Josh would say, "LSD? I just helped a kid get over that crazy stuff." Then Daniel would nervously quiver and pop a pill.

To keep cool in our beds last night, we all soaked our sheets in cold water and slept in them. Daniel said he woke up after an hour and was groggily confused, and thought he had wet himself. Oh, Daniel.

Today, Regular Josh and I found a place to eat eggs and beans - mmm Mexico food. We watched 2 hours of extreme sports - speed rock climbing and snowmobile jump/flipping. It was highly entertaining and involved more forearm muscle than I will ever hope to see in my life. As Josh left to catch a bus to his workshop, I sat with Mafia Josh. He is the closest to my age, being 25 (the other guys were in their 30s, but furthest from any life style I have encountered. He has crazy stories from his 8 year - and counting - drug career. He is very loud and grunty, rather droopy eyed, but extremely nice and willing to humor my curiosity. He taught me about the banking systems of different countries, school systems in New York, and the drug economy of Portland. I asked him what the legalizing of drugs would be like, from his perspective, and he said it would hurt him at first. But then, he would just find some way to make the drug fancier. He would sell his own line of "Prada and Dulce and Gabana weed." Fascinating. His eventual hope in life is to head research in Central American rain forests to discover and patent new drugs.

We walked around town a bit, then Mafia Josh left me at this cafe while he went looking for Daniel, who is probably nervously hiding in an alley.
Now, I just wait around for Erin. And sweat. I will be waiting and sweating all day.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Gearing up for Guaty

While Erin is busy frolicking in the wilderness of Utah, I thought I'd start us up a blog. We're off to Guatemala . . . eventually. I'm flying into Cancun on the 15, holding down the fort and hopefully holding in all necessary intestines (sketchy parts of Cancun have been rumored to harvest kidneys and such. Don't worry - I have my Luche Libre mask for intimidation, and I can do one mean Indian Burn). Erin will be joining me the next day at the Cancun Nest - how romantic! From there, we are hoping to catch a bus (if there actually is one) through Belize and into Guatemala (or Guaty, as Erin has aptly named it). Cross your fingers because Erin/Courtney adventures rarely go according to plan.

In honor of our second Central American backpacking adventure, I thought I'd reminisce and give you some highlights from the first.

- We had a sloth and her baby sleeping outside one of our hostels

- While peacefully eating at a restaurant, the waiter behind me was shaking out a napkin that happened to be holding a fork. This fork sailed through the air and stabbed the back of my skull. My bloody head saved Erin's left eye, and she is forever in my debt.

- While playing on the beach, a herd of long horned cattle strolled right up next to us for a dip in the water.

- We ate bananas fresh from the tree, and drank coffee fresh off the fields

- We rode ruthless, speedy buses and sat next to roosters

- We zip-lined over the top of a rain forest

- We played chess with Costa Rican children

- My backpacking bag was rather large, with blankets tied to one side, and a tent to the other. I couldn't make it through most doorways and I ran into a lot of people in the streets.

- We unknowingly walked into a street festival and had confetti thrown in our eyes

- While cruising around some islands, a mother monkey and her baby swung onto our boat. The mother stole my Popsicle and finished it off. Every time the baby would go in for a lick, he would get a bop on the head.

- Roaming the streets of Nicaragua on Christmas, a family invited us into their home for drinks. We also met a Rastafarian Santa Clause

-We befriended many cockroaches

-One night we slept in a tent only big enough for one normal human, maybe two midgets. We had no food or flashlights, so we went to bed hungry at 6, when it became dark. We 'slept' for 12 hours, waiting for daylight. A woman actually did take pity on us and gave us a hunk of cheese. Well, I'm lactose intolerant, so that choice of dinner did not help our small sleeping quarters become any more comfortable.
- We learned from our newly made Swiss friend that Americans have a plethora of 'Damage Pleasure.' This is when someone hurts (damages) or embarrasses themselves, and we laugh and find pleasure in their pain.

- We hiked up to a 'Miracle Crater,' where swimming in and drinking the water will make you live longer. We swam for about 20 minutes, and celebrated the extra 2 weeks tagged onto our life. On our hike down, I slipped. As I slid down the muddy mountainside, Erin laughed, and our Swiss friend yelled, "Damage Pleasure!"

Erin and I are working on a book with the theme, "What not to do when traveling." We are filling it with our many, many mishaps, and this trip to Guatemala is sure to add a few more chapters. Our lack of direction, interactions with awesome and bizarre people, inability to make decisions, poorly spoken Spanish, and animal encounters are sure to bring you much Damage Pleasure. I don't know how often we'll have opportunity to blog . . . but stay tuned!