Jesus saves… I am a witness

 

All over Maui there were T-shirts and bumper stickers that read “Eddie would go”.  Eddie Aikau is remembered because he lost his life paddling to get help after the canoe he was in capsized off the islands of Molokai and Lanai, everyone else was saved but Eddie who had set off to get help was lost at sea.

We left our “BikeHotel” early setting off toward cleaner beaches.  The first place we stopped was beautiful but too much money for us, the second was cheap but not nice enough for us, the third, fourth and fifth places were perfect but wouldn’t take dogs!  Finally we found a cute little Hostal/Hotel in El Tunco (The Tunco Lodge) that would take us and our dogs AND more importantly had a pool!  The pool was mandatory for me as swimming in the Ocean was a no go due to the huge waves and treacherous currents.  Walking through the town of El Tunco we were told that at least 6 people had died in the month of April (ok so we heard different numbers from 5 to 11 so we are going with 6), some were surfers and others swimmers caught in rips and towed out to sea or smashed on the rocks that dot the ocean. 

It was hot and we were hot so we spent most of the afternoon splashing in the pool trying to cool off while the dogs slept in air conditioned bliss. Around 4 in the afternoon we were all sufficiently cooled down enough to check out the beach.  The waves were incredible, toward the west side of the beach (it is a south facing break) there is a place that breaks right in an almost straight line.  The surfers can catch a wave and ride it for ages but never move further down just in.  The waves start about a mile out so the paddle is long and hard.  In the center of the beach is a large rock and the currents around it swirl and twist, it is not a place I would want to swim and on that day I wouldn’t have even waded in the ocean. 

We walked down the beach to watch the few surfers brave (or dumb) enough to go out that afternoon.  Right in front of a group of three surfers (2 guys and girl) went in and started paddling the mile to the break.  As we watched I really wondered if they were going to make it, one of the guys took off and quickly made it out, the other guy and the girl seemed to be having a harder time, and eventually the girl started to paddle in and the guy took off to the break.  After 15 or so minutes the girl had not gotten any closer to shore but was being pulled closer and closer to the rock.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing this poor girl was in serious trouble, a few minutes later another surfer entered the water dangerously close to the rock, he quickly paddled out to the girl and got her to turn around and paddle with the current around the rock, within 10 minutes they were both safely on the beach. 

I asked a local who the guy was, was he a local lifeguard, I wanted to know.  It turns out he is a waiter at a local restaurant and when people saw she was in trouble they ran to get him.  After he saved her he went back to the restaurant, showered changed clothes and went back to work.  His name is Jesus, and when I spoke to him he said it was no big deal that he does it all the time.   

The next morning the waves and currents had settled down, the ocean was full of surfers and swimmers.  We saw Jesus paddle out to catch some waves, besides being the unofficial life guard he was one of the best surfers in the water that day.

El Salvador we made... it to a Bicycle Hotel

We’ve read the blogs and heard the stories, all over Guatemala and Mexico we saw the signs AutoHotel, a place for weary travelers with secure parking and right on the road, a perfect for one night between stops, that is until they realize these are hotels set up for secret trysts, where the rooms rent for the hour not for the night. We knew better, we avoided them, especially the ones with names like “Secret Desires” or “Romantic Whispers” (notice the names are always in English).

We got a late start out of San Pedro; I had forgotten a very important item in the apartment (my custom made mobile toilet seat) and had to wait until 8:30 to be let back in the apartment to retrieve it (yes I am not leaving that behind, pun intended).  The drive out of San Pedro was great, beautiful road that ended abruptly and turned into a terrible wash out that lasted for 2 or 3 kilometers before returning to incredible road again.  We arrived at the El Salvador border around 2, about a mile before the border we knew we were getting close, a motorcycle pulled up and offered us assistance at the border, soon another approached us.  The first cut off the second and they pulled over (we assume to discuss who would be allowed to help us), the first motorcycle followed us and the second disappeared. 

At the border I explained that I could not accept help because if I did all my family and friends would laugh at me and that it was a point of pride to complete the task of the border crossing unassisted.  That worked, for the most part, the motorcycle helpers left, but a persistent man  kept following me around, cutting in front of me and explaining to the migracion what I needed done.  It was very annoying!  After completing the check-out of Guatemala, I gave him $2 for his help and again explained that I really NEEDED to complete this on my own.  The next step was easy, immigration check, no need to even show the papers for the dogs (though I tried repeatedly) to the Aduana for the car, they kept going out to check the car, write down an itemized list of things we had on top, return to the office, make copies, back to the office.  No problem but it was 3:30 before we were done. 

I checked with Greta to see where we were (a huge shout out to Dan for downloading the maps for us!) and to confirm that the route to our next stop was on the map.  What I saw on the map was a dirt trail (30 miles long) that would take us up to the camping area.  Not feeling up to 30 miles of rough road, and seeing as it was getting close to our self-imposed “in a hotel by 4 or 5 at the latest” we changed plans and headed towards a coastal town.  On the map there was what looked like a cruise ship so we headed toward the city of Acajutla.  I soon discovered my mistake, it was a ship yes, but not a cruise ship it was a port town lined with freighters.  Not wanting to push on we quickly found a cute little hotel/restaurant to bed down for the night.  When I entered the hotel area, there was a family sitting outside all laughing and talking, the kids were very interested in the dogs and the room was only $10 a night!  Well it was a scuzzy room, dirty even, and the toilet didn’t have a seat (yes that is why I bring my own) but the restaurant was on a bluff overlooking a black sand beach, with crashing waves and a pool (filled with small children which meant that I wasn’t going in but still nice to watch).  So we stayed. 

Hot, tired and getting hangery, we took the dogs down to the beach and entertained the locals with our crazy American dogs chasing a ball and the ball thrower (something most people haven’t seen)… at least our doggies are getting better at being free range and we can let them off leash!  We then had a great (and cheap) lobster and shrimp dinner, a walked down the very shabby beach front street to a Volley Ball game (organized like a soccer match), and returned to the hotel. 

We were surprised about the number of bikes parked in the courtyard, the family was all gone so we pulled up our chairs and sat to have a beer.  As we sat talking the couple in the room next to us exited and very discreetly kissed, the man got his bike and left and a few minutes later the woman left, after about a ½ hour the second couple left, this time the woman first on her bike and then the man riding the opposite direction… we went to the car and pulled out our sheets.  In the morning the courtyard was empty of bikes.  We walked the dogs on the beach, kissed and discreetly got in our tuck and left together!

Guatemala a sirvirle

 On our last Saturday in Guatemala we woke as always before the sun, but this day we were treated to one of the most spectacular sunrises we have seen on the trip.  The day was clearer than what we had come to expect in San Pedro and the mountains surrounding the lake were clearly visible.  We decided to take fully advantage of the day and hiked with the doggies past the end of our usual walk and up into the hills.  The view was amazing and we both understood why so many people who come here for a few days end up staying and putting down roots in this little lake side village.

We have been in Guatemala for 7 weeks and as we prepare to leave I look back on our time here with what I hope is a better understanding of the country than when I arrived.  Guatemala is a beautiful country, with the cool mountain rain forests, the jungle and the pacific coast to entertain any type of visitor, but it is the people who truly make this country worth visiting.

The country struggles with the poverty typical of a third world system and division between the rich and the poor that is difficult for me as a US citizen to understand.  In Guatemala City the tension is palpable, the armed guards at every gas station and on every truck and the electrified security systems that are layered on top of the bobbed wire on every house, it was the only place that I felt unsafe.   In the smaller more touristy city of Antigua the poverty is less noticeable but it is still there in the children begging on the street or who have found employment selling everything from bananas to hand made string bracelets rather than going to school which is neither free nor compulsory. 

Into the countryside where fire wood is collected on a daily basis, if not for heat then for cooking and women wash clothes, their children and themselves in rivers and lakes because their houses don’t have water.  So many people dream of going to the United States to find work and finally be able to save money, something that here they can’t do.  They have examples of how that is possible, like the woman who gave us directions, in perfect English, to a hotel in the middle of nowhere, her family had returned from New Jersey and with the money earned there were able to live in a style different than the average Guatemalan.

Yet with the “American Dream” alive and well in Guatemala so is the Mayan Culture that has disappeared from so many other Central American countries.  For the Indigenas Spanish is not a first language, and for some it isn’t spoken at all.  There are more than 30 Languages spoken in Guatemala, each area has its own.  Each area also has a style of dress that distinguishes it from its neighbor, in the North the women wear full pleated skirts and lace blouses and in Lake Atitlan the style of skirt is tighter and blouses are embroidered with flowers, but both are more colorful than anything worn in the States.

Even with the poverty the people are so friendly and welcoming to visitors.  Walking down the street everyone greets us with a “Buenos Dias” or a “Buenas Tardes”, they ask us our names, where we are from, how long we will be in their country and make us feel welcome.  When we thank the waitress who has brought us our food or the Tuk Tuk driver for dropping us at our house or even the butcher for the meat, the response is always the same A Sivirle… to serve you.

Culture Shock grilled to perfection

Lake Atitlan is the largest and deepest lake in Guatemala, the water has risen quite a bit in the last few years so many of the building that were built on the shore are now underwater.  Though we drove into San Pedro you can also arrive by boat, there are two docks one that goes to Panajachel and the other that goes to Santiago.  The “Pana” dock is the bar zone, the Santiago Dock is on the more relaxed “good side” of town.  Between the two and up a steep climbing street is “El Centro” which holds the Mercado and Catholic Church.  Zigzagging between these three points are tiny cobbled stone streets lined with houses, shops and restaurants.

The population of the town is divided between the points as well.  El Centro is where most of the local’s live, the women all wear the most beautiful weaved skirts and frilly tops and the old men wear traditional outfits of weaved pants, a sash (sometimes it resembles a skirt), a weaved shirt and a cowboy hat and machete, they are a hodgepodge of colors and patterns, while the younger men have opted for western style clothing of jeans and golf shirts.

 

 

 

 The area south of the Santiago dock is a mixture of local’s homes and weekend vacation houses.  The further you get out of town the nicer the houses get, most are owned (or rented) by Foreign Expats and people who live in the capital and have the houses for vacations.  The area is also sprinkled with Agricultural plots and the smaller concrete block (or wood) houses with corrugated tin roofs, and no running water of the locals in the area.

Between the two docks is a small cobbled stone street (known as the Gringo path) that is lined with bars, language schools, mini markets, message studios, and restaurants selling everything from Pho to Irish Breakfasts with at least three Italian restaurants thrown in for good measure.

Walking down this path you can see the various “Gringo” groups that occupy San Pedro, the hippies (barefoot and sporting dreadlocks often selling homemade jewelry on the side of the path), the students (either those here to really learn Spanish or those here to party and go to school on the side) and the Ex-Pats those who came here for a week 7 years ago and stayed. 

During our first week in San Pedro we ate Lasagna and Gnocchi, Buffalo Chicken Wings, and found some fairly decent Curry and Kung Pao chicken, along with exploring the Mercado and barbequing at our house, fixing chili mac and even Chicken Picatta.  Still I don’t think that we were quite prepared for Smoking Joe’s Sunday BBQ.

We had seen signs advertising a BBQ that took place every Sunday at noon at a bar by the Santiago Dock, and the idea of a real BBQ with ribs and steak had us both excited.  We could smell the food a block away and saw the little bar “The Deep End” to the left of the dock, when we walked in it was like walking out of Guatemala and right back into the US. To begin with I don’t think that anyone who was there was a native Guatemalan, and I am fairly certain that most spoke limited Spanish (if any at all), and then there was the food, heaps and heaps of “Good Ole American BBQ” with sides like potato salad, Cole slaw, Mac and Cheese, Corn on the Cob and green beans.  The meat was to die for Beef and Pork Ribs, Chicken, Beef Tenderloin and the biggest hamburgers I have seen ever.  We also met some great people who were students with Fritz at the Spanish School Dan and Brigid a couple backpacking for two years through the Americans and Jeff from Arizona learning Spanish so he can move to Honduras and become a dive master.  Between the Bloody Mary’s, Gallo Beers and 5 Quetzal tequila shots the afternoon passed quite enjoyably. 

Dog Friendly Hotels and Hostels in, Mexico…

Warning, unless you are going to travel to Mexico with dogs this might be a boring post!

Ok just a note my husband and I are NOT really “shoe string budget” travelers, our goal is to keep the trip under $100 US a day, which we know for some is a fortune but this is where we stayed while we were in Mexico, and they all take dogs!  We also always got a private bath so you might be able to get a lower price at the hostals (they are more like bed and breakfasts) if you want to share a bath or will go for a “dorm room” style room.

San Felipe – Pete’s place RV camping, on the beach, dry toilets $15 US + $2 for showers

Gonzaga Bay – There are two places to stay in Gonzaga the second one (turn left at the store where the air strip is) is nicer.  Dry toilets no water.  We heard that if you drive about 15 to 20 minutes past there you will find another BETTER camping spot with water for less than the $15 US we paid

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Muelege – Hotel Muelege, warm showers, wifi, creepy man but with dogs he stayed away $50 a night

Loreto – Hotel Santa Fe, Kitchen, wifi, pool very secure parking $62 a night and a bit of a walk from the ocean but I loved this place, Fritz thought it was OK…

Bucerias (just north of Puerto Vallarta) – Corita Hotel (camping) we had a whole gated, locked beach front lot with a private bathroom a short walk away, they would let us use the pool and it was great $20 a day

 

 

 

Guadalajara – Hostal Querida Olga – Our favorite, cute right in the heart of Guadalajara with secure parking two blocks away which fit our 9 foot high truck. We loved this place, hot showers, wifi, shared kitchen, wonderful people $40 a night but parking is extra.

 

Teotihuacán – Hotel Quinto Del Sol – Expensive $70 a night, there is camping in the town but it was below freezing when we were there.  They were not thrilled about our dogs, especially since I made them sound small (like a poodle not a pit bull) but they let them stay and were fine with it in the end.  Pool, wifi, restaurant (expensive), bar.

 

Morelia – Hostal Casa Castillo - $40 a night parking extra, right down town great roof top deck.  The owner has 2 really small dogs but we were able to make sure they were gone when we left/entered the hostal.

 

 

Oaxaca – Hotel Casa Mercedes - $80 a night secure parking included, one block from down town.  Wifi, TV, Restaurant very nice people but expensive

Hualtuco – Hotel Plaza Delphinus - $40 a night parking in front of Hotel not secured but we felt fine about it.  Roberto and Blanca are the nicest people, he took us to the laundry and showed us where dog friendly beaches were, they offer breakfast in the morning for an extra charge and planned a pot luck BBQ for the guests when we stayed there, they  

My best advice to anyone is to use www.booking.com they have a search option for accept pets.  With that being said DO NOT PAY or reserve the room on booking.com as the information may not be correct and I have heard of more than one person whose credit card was charged but the hotel did not get the money.

 

 

Mosquitos and Spiders and Scorpions… OH MY!

This morning while making the bed a scorpion fell out of my pillow.  I am not sure what the worst part of this was, the fact that it was small (think baby but not the cute type, which means there are probably more), that it was black (therefore more dangerous) or that it was in my pillow!!!!

I remember watching a movie about a woman who had moved with her husband to Africa as one of the many British Colonists, I watched as the servants carted her china and set up tents so they could have a bush lunch and was amazed that anyone would be so stupid.  I think I get it now, at least a little bit better than I did.

I love our sense of adventure and awe with everything we are doing on this trip.  Seeing different cultures, how they live on a day to day basis, going to the Mercado to buy my food, living in a rented house, trying to mop the floors using a “Guatemalan Mop” and trying not to get shocked showering in a “Guatemalan Hot Shower”.  But upon finding a store that sold Balsamic Vinegar, Capers and Barrilla Pasta I was ecstatic, now I could cook a meal from home, make an approximation to a daddy salad and eat pasta that didn’t get really mushy when you cooked it.

I try to adapt to my new environment and wonder what the locals think of the white girl in their midst, but at the same time I feel like the woman from England in the movie.  Part of what I do is under the guise of health, boiling the water to wash the dishes, using only potable water to cook the rice, but I also know that part it is to make “here” feel more like home.  She did what she did because that was how it was at home and it was beyond her comprehension to do it any other way.

This morning as we moved the bed out from the wall so I could spray poison behind, around and under the bed, I wondered how much good that would do to keep the next scorpion out of my pillow and I wondered how much I will have to drink tonight before I crawl into bed so I can sleep.  Isn’t a hangover better than a scorpion bite?  I hope I never have to find out if it isn’t.

San Pedro… school in the morning but learning all day!

I don’t consider myself a morning person, yes I wake up before the sun every morning, but  I am not bright eyed and bushy tailed, and before my first cup of coffee it is best to leave me alone. This morning I chased a very loud bird out of a tree with a Frisbee because he was singing to cheerfully. My love/hate affair with sunrise started in Maui where there isn’t twilight in the evening but in the morning when the sun comes up it is hidden behind the Volcano Haleakala and for an hour or so there is twilight.

We have now been in the same spot for a little over two weeks, we have a routine and are settling in and resting up.  Our mornings start early, from our east facing front porch we watch the sun peak over the mountains that surround the lake turning the sky different shades of pink. We sit and watch until the caffeine hits my blood and we can take the doggies for their walk.  We are trying to teach them to be street dogs, or the American equivalent.  After getting to the dirt road far enough away from too many people and crazy tuk tuk drivers we let them off leash to go explore, they are getting better at staying with us, especially after Haole (our pit bull nick named Snuggles) got chased out of a house by woman with a big stick (he now has to be put back on leash when we get to the house or he turns around and tries to go home!) And they have learned that the proper way to meet a dog on the street is to sniff his/her butt and if the other dog growls to slowly back away. Kona still doesn’t realize that chasing timid dogs is looking for problems, as they usually run around a corner where the rest of their pack is waiting, but he is getting better about it.

After our walk we head to Fritz’s school where I use the free Wi-Fi to catch up on the blog, Facebook and email, while having either a Jiamaca Rosa or Limonada or sometimes Hot Chocolate with Ginger.  When he has his break I usually leave the computer (for him to carry home) and then walk up to the Mercado to find something to cook for dinner.  I already have my favorites at the Mercado, the butcher who learned English flirting with American Ex-Pats, the old lady who sells the tomatoes on the vine not the roma ones, the woman who brings her young daughters a few days a week and has the freshest looking broccoli and zucchini. 

Fritz is done with his school by noon and spends the next hour in the hammock resting his brain, then studies for an hour or so while I read and bird watch in the comfort of our back yard.

Dinner is usually a joint affair with me cooking the side dishes and him bbq’ing whatever chicken, beef or pork I found at the Mercado.  We eat dinner by candle light so we aren’t too bombarded by bugs (another reason I love sunrise fewer bugs) and also so we can watch the Fairies.  Every night at sundown we are visited by hundreds of Fairies that flitter from bush to bush and through the grass entertaining us, ok they are lightening bugs, tiny little blinking beetles, not the fireflies I have heard stories about that you can catch and keep in a jar, they are more like Christmas lights that flash 3 or 4 times in a row and then go dark for a bit.

With dinner dishes done, we turn on the computer and watch a movie, our TV for the night, and before it is finished I am asleep and during the night one of us (to be honest usually Fritz) gets up and turns the computer off, and our routine continues the next day.