Sunrise, Quinta Roo

Sunrise, Quinta Roo

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Belize backtrack

Behind again... partially due to lack of computer availability and partially due to laziness.
Took an expensive bus last night, which is the quickest option from Guadalajara - but meant it
left at 12.30am and arrived at 5.30am. I am very tired.

I got offered Cocaine this morning, but more on that later. Later: So I starting walking from the Bus station, without info about where the highway was. It was dark and confusing, being 5am, so I wandered. And wandered. I eventually was in this village... a man there was all nice and took pity and offered me a drive as he was going into town for 'work'. He then was asking if I want, what seemed to be, his hand. On that hand was powder. I was confused at first, coz I couldn't see anything and he started rambling 'Oh, I have been drinking and smokin" and I'm all 'Wahhh?' and offered to drive. He got out to use the bathroom, leaving me there to panic. He came back in and was all 'I am not a bad person', and 'I will tell you a secret..I am a dealer'. I was all, 'That's not good'... and he rambled more about how it is bad, but hard to get work, cocaine is easy, supports the fam... 
He was a nice guy, but how much he changed from the guy lifting my bags into his car to the drunk?high? rambler, I was not trusting of his sober-state. As soon as we got on the highway (him still rambling), I was all 'My bus stop is the next one!', asked if he wanted a tip, but saying he probs shouldn't drive people around. I was grateful, but torn. 

BACKTRACK TO BELIZE:

The next day in Belize we really did nothing but wander the island and swim.
THE NEXT DAY HOWEVER, we took a tour with the lady who gave me all this stuff to use on my nail (after she saw me hobbling down the road wincing.. what a nice lady), the Barrier reef is very close to the island actually, so we did not have to spend an hour and a half on the boat like in Aus, it also cost around $30 NZ, not $120 Aus, that is another bonus. It also did not kill Steve Irwin.
In conclusion, I liked the 2nd largest reef in the world better than the titleholder.
I love snorkelling, muchly, but find that it is pretty much the same everywhere you go... lots of the same fish and coral. But I still loved it, I just don{t know how to differentiate between different countries.. BUT the 2nd stop, was CRAZZZZY.
The driver man, assited by his 9 year old son - Kevin - who is the next generation of tour leaders, ripped up fish and put them in a tube. Seconds later, about 15 stingrays and 6 Nurse sharks were all around the boat. He jumped in and was petting them, touching them everywhere to show they are friendly... we got in one by one, Roisin was swearing her head off in her thick accent. This American (from the South) lady did not stop screaming and was going {BABBBBYYYY) to her husband everytime one was coming near. It was her first time snorkelling - she was thrown in the deep end alright.

It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. I was trying to watch from a distance, but at one stage about 5 stingrays came up around my feet and I jumped up, in a ball on my back, furiously wading in the water. I had my eyes closed and geniuinely freaked out - blood chilling it was. Knowing that they do have powerful stings and will attack if touched on.
The nurse sharks are quite funny looking, all there features are round and they have light brown skin(?).. their fangs actually look quite comical. I was patting them a bit, this Spanish guy was clowning around... trying to be all tricky with his feet and such - not worth the risk I reckons.

Later that day I caught the ferry back to Belize city, alone. Boy, was I sad to leave my Irish Parents.. I was really casual with them but then when I was in the ferry I found myself quite upset!

I was out of money so needed the ATM, where I walked to once back in bay... I was a bit more scared than I was the morning I took this walk, as the sun had just set and it was getting dark. Men are everywhere.. just sitting or standing around... how people in these countries don{t get bored, I have no idea.

Near the bank is the ´square´ where I knew to find the taxi drivers, as it is where they sleep. One short, jolly-Santa man waved me down from a block away so I went straight for him.
He had a Previa. I love Previas... aka Bretheran vans. One day when we were in our old one up near the Bretheran school, they all tooted and waved at us - thinking we were one of theres. It felt good to be accepted.

My jolly bus driver told me about how the City used to be a bright, quiet and safe place, but now there is a lot of drugs and therefore thievery... he doesn´t like living here much anymore. I felt bad for him and the good people of the city - such things we don´t really have to worry about. I thought it was a great shame, as it does look like it was once a pretty city. The government is also very corrupt, he told me, even Obama sent a message about how corrupt it was - they really like Obama here, I´ve noticed. Lots of people bear the T-Shirts in the city, I guess it is because the city is mainly a community made up of African Slave ancestory. I think Belize looks up to USA quite a lot too....

Anyways, I went to the bus station - very different to the classy ones of Mexico - everyone stared at me from the moment I walked in to the second I got off the bus. Most of it was outside, but sheltered, with lots of food stalls. Every 2nd person asked where I was trying to be and pointed me the way. A lady came on with hot clove bread and I got some of the. Wish I had got more - it was so fresh, so nice. The ride was very interesting. I took the bus all the way to Corozal, so I must have been on it for a good few hours. There was a back door to the bus, men kept getting out to use the bathroom then quickly running and jumping back on when the driver was yelling to close the door. It was on the highway, but through neighbourhoods. I saw a LOT of Chinese supermarts and restaurants. Even the non-chinese ones, are all named with the person who runs it name. I like this. Most the businesses are ´Andrea´s´ or ´Wong Fu´s´... I like it coz it´s like - ¨I did this, I am gonna make sure everyone knows that it´s mine´.

When I got on the bus, it was 100% (bar me, obviously) black people. When I got off the bus, it was 100% Mayan or Mexican. Some of them ARE Mexican, the bus driver was speaking Spanish, some of them are not - but the boarderline is quite faint up the north there.
I didn´t actually realise this until we stopped in a city - Orange Walk´- up North and the bus driver put on a Mexican music CD. I wondered why he was only busting this out now, when he could{ve put it on hours ago, when women got on the bus to walk the aisle selling Corn and Tamales (the fave Mex snackS) ...I looked around and saw only Mayan or Mexican Belizeans - on the bus, in the street.. Spanish was what people now speaking. It opened to my eyes to Belizean Culture... there is more to it than meets the eye.

IT ws an expensive effort to get back across the boarder, as unfortunately it was now about 10pm and all the buses for the day had stopped. I try to be a budget traveller, but there are good tricks I am learning for the next trip I go on. I had to Taxi there in a van... I was scared for my life for a few minutes there. Not because the van was unsafe, but because my partyman driver was BLARING the music (latest RnB, classic) but driving RIDICULOUSLY fast - but not really paying sticking to his side of the road. At all. This made me particularly queezy when we were going around the various bends on the wrong side .. that with the fact that there were no lights on the road.. it was now black so I had no idea what was ahead of us. Early on I was furiously grabbing for the seatbelt, couldn´t find the bottom bit and he reached over to try and help - meaning taking his eyes off the road and bending right to the ground - I was like ´´It´s okay - you drive, I will look for that.´He was all ´We don´t use seatbelts in Belize´, I was ´Even in this car? DRIVE PLEASE´. I got the buckle eventually, but it had obviously not been used for a while.
I walked through the crossing, with about 20 people all heading to the Casinos in no-mans-land. Once I got out into the middle part, I took photos of myself in front of each country. I got a whistle and looked toward the Belize side. The guy was waving his arm casually at me. I took another photo. ´No!´he yelled, must of thought i was working for some government. He probably thought I would put the photos on some blog, or something. I have found I have looked like a bad-ass on a few occasions here, because their ´´You are not meant to be doing that´´ signals and messages are so weak that I just think they are waving, like this guy. He was leaned back in his chair, one ankle up on the other leg, with his hand behind his head. It looked like a ´See ya, Thanks for coming to Belize, mon.´


Monday, October 25, 2010

Where I have wandered...



I put my route from Chiapas through the states to Belize, and now backtracking in Blue or Azul to here in Playa Del Carmen.

Caye Caulker...


Is the name of the most beautiful place I have seen in my life.

The island can only really be realised properly either first hand, or really with some good photos.
Although I doubt it, I hope the photos will look half as good as it did in person.
Driving up on the boat we knew we had now REALLY reached the Carribean. There were a lot of plank wood docks leading up to the ocean, one of many we got off at. The ocean below was a clear slighty minty green, I almost lost a jandal looking down because the gaps between wood were large (some of the docks are quite ´rustic´, one very weathered one has a 4 person maximum. The Island ´Captain´(aka one of the laid'back young guys wearing the CC Ferry tops and jandals, with ´Captain´printed on) said ´Don´t worry, we got plenty o dose here (Jandals)´ as he easily threw my bag onto the trolley that he would later pull down the dock to the mainland..¨Go slow, you´re in Caye Caulker now¨ (this is the islands catchphrase).

I stood on the dock for a few minutes (I take pictures of everything) as my Irish Parents had various Golf cart taxi drivers and hostel owners keenly (but not aggressively, or pushy ..unlike their Mexican neighbours). The three of us sat on the back seat of the cart, which gave us a great view of all we passed. This took us down the main road, where the Basketball court is (miniature... i don´t think even half size), along with the resturants (none are fancy, all with swing seats and plastic chairs), some shops (a tourism shop, 2 togs shops, a book shop'internet cafe.. about $7 NZ an hour!), about 3 small Chinese'run supermarts (this is what I am now calling the small supermarkets... even in Mexico there are either the small ones, or the huge Americana beasts), then various accomodations...the best of which being stilted, wooden, colourful and classic Carribean. The island really caters from camping to a fenched in modern place with a pool.. the first place, hotel-pizzaplacebar, we stopped at didn´t have available rooms for us (A Canadian guy had taken over the place and was just opening... he literally put up the sign later that day, we went there in the night and all they had was two types of beer, which they were sending a local stoner to the supermart to buy).

The next place was where we ended up. I haven´t managed to taken in any of the names of the places we have been staying, but it was basically on the beach, the family lived upstairs and then have extended to have a quite tacky looking wooden building - something you would expect on a trip to Colorado. I didn´t mind where we were at this point, the Irish wanted to stay somewhere nice and my birthday is the one day I let the money flo´a lil. People who pass me on the street on Oct 21 are like, ¨Hey, Big Spender!¨.

We dropped the bags and headed for ´´the split´´ where there isn´t much beach, but awesome water with beautiful fish you can see from the bay. At around midday the stoners and hangers'around come from the Chinese supermart to here.. i think in the hopes tourists will buy them drinks. I wondered why these guys spend all day at the Supermart (always saying ´Where´s the party at´), one of them even has a permanently placed chair. I think it they take advantage of the fact that the Chinese people are too scared to tell them to leave, but also they have the attitude ´This is my country!´. One of the supermart owners can´t really speak English either, so even if he tried - I think he is stuck with them.

When one of them (David) learnt it was my birthday, he was all ´Well the party must be somewhere´ but then asked me the next day.. ´Where the party at, Birthday Girl´´
I replied ' ´Dunno. My birthday was yesterday´, he said ´Ohhh Sorry, I may have taken some drugs´.

My favourite person on the island was a guy we encountered quite early on... I don´t think we ever learnt his name, but he was only known as ^The Tamale Guy^.
I still don´t really know what tamales are, a bit sad seeing it is one of the most popular street food here. BUT, it is made out of corn (the is the bit I don´t really get... how corn becomes this soft, heavy texture) then with herbs through... or chicken and veges apparently. It is wrapped in a banana leaf. I had only had it with herbs in Mex, but theis had more going on. I meant to try one of the Vege ones on the island, but forgot .. but I tried some of Padraic`s on his first Tamale encounter. It was very good, mainly thanks to the sauce.

We spooted this guy because we werhearing a very long-winded tour explanation (an AMerican lady who has married a Belizean), she talked for ages... giving detail to the sillyest things.. I made the mistake of mentioning Steve Irwin(which everyone does at on hearing ``Swim with the stingrays``) and she went off on a huge tangent about how you don´t grab them from behind, the location of the stingers, it is sad because he has a family....saying all this with no sympathy I might add. She didn´t really have emotion at all now I think of it.. but anyways, she was then droning about cheap eating option (which we discovered, don`t actually exist, in comparison with Mexico) when she mentioned the Tamale Guy - don`t worry, you won`t miss him.
Within seconds we heard the loud and enthusiastic boomb ``HAT Ta-ma-LES get your HAT TAmaLES.
He swaggers up the road in his blue shirt, cap, sneakers with his socks pulled up, pushing his cart. ``Hey guys!!! - I got Tamales... Chicken AND Vegetarian`` we didn´t know this at the time, but this is really all this man says. Apart from a few other words, he really puts a lot of energy into making te Tamales sound hot, chicken, vegetarian -and boy, does he do it with enthusiasm. He also does hilarious rants, before we talked to him, somewone was waving him down off a pier. He was like ``They betta be buyin sum`ìn, you donçt make the Tamale walk retrace his steps fo nuthin``... when he was selling to us he mentioned Ì come out 2 times a day, at about 12.30, I walk the main road then pause at the split for 30 mins, then walk back to my house. I walk out of my house again at 5.30 - with Hot TamaLES`
Later on he was like ``Hot Tamales, quick before I leave`and I was all `You don`t leave! I have seen you 8 times today`` (not in a rude way). He replied `You only see me twice actually. Once at 12.30 and then at 5.30`.

After watching a beautiful sunset, taking photos of myself infront of the sunset of this glorious 21st.. some holding the camera and others dancing around (providing a comedy show for the fishermen - note: they fish and eat and sell CONCH here, which I found interesting. Mainly because I didn´t know conch had meat... not sure it is legal in NZ because of the cultural value...), then hit up the main local stree. Again, not much there.. .another Chinese Supermart (named China Town), a-the bank and the bakery. I looked for something that resembled a cake, a return with a cinnamon loaf - with the softest, freshest bread ever. This was my first birthday without a Chocolate cake, but I will have one - that is the joy of the word `Belated`.. we could technically all celebrate our birthdays all of the time.
In desperation, I stopped off at a Burger Bar place for a cupcake.. any kind of CAKE was necessary. It was a takeaway restaurant, but as the Americans outside told me, they were ``out`` of all the other items on the menu (aka either someone had not bothered to do the shopping, or the boat hadn`t arrived with the food).
My Irish parents found a great restaurant on the beach with a vege menu, although they didn´t actually bring me what I ordered, I was happy to eat it because it was the first time I had seen Broccoli and Cauliflower for months. It was a deep fried pita wrap with lots of veges, hottish sauce and runny beans.. i splashed out (Hey, BIG SPENDER) on a side of mashed potato (no existe in Mex) and a fizzy drink because they have the cool, big glass bottles...may as well celebrate the decade in which I was born.
I then felt bad with my erratic spending as my Irish Parents insisted on paying the bill. The restaurant also brought out an Ice Cream sunday for me - very nice, good news is that Belizeans make ice cream a HELL Of a lot better than the Mexicans. Mexican´s mean well, but miss the `cream`element of it. Although we can´t really blame a country without real milk, can we?

This is when we went to the `bar` with the two beer types, the crazy Canadian gave us his life story (classic overworked and divorced.... moved here to chill out) he told us that Cocaine is okay if taken infrequently and insisted we wrote on his wall - if we return, he promised, we need to point out our wall scribbles and he will give us a free drink (to which I said I only wanted if he had more options.. they couldn`t even give me lemonade.. or water).
He wanted me to draw something, so I put a few sad looking flowers, `Maria 21 on 21-10-10`and `Arohanui ` on the wall, for some New Zealand Flava.
Glad I got to leave my mark in Belize!

Belize part 2






I missed out an important note. Faithful followers would have caught the part about me slamming a door into my toe on the way to Merida. Now, loading onto the bus to Belize, on my NZ birthday, (my birthday here in my mind lasted about 36 to 48 hours) my toe got beautifully ripped all the way up. Pain once again, but now permanent.

Don´t worry It is all bandaged and alcoholed and I change it 2 to 3 times a day. This British woman who was helping me with it (an expat married to a Belizean) thinks it will drop off. I am nervous about this.

Belize. So, after the stop off at the ATM where the Taxi driver got out to watch Padraic withdrawl money, he took us to a hostel that was mentioned in their book. I don´t know the name of it but it was a big old wooden building (unkept, like all the others here) ran by a French Canadian. The taxidriver charged us $12 US for the trip ' it was around the corner. But everyone here in Mexico says Belize is expensy so we were slightly prepared.
Padraic wanted to argue but Roisin shut him up, happy that no one had died yet.
The French Canadian was accidentally hilarious. Apparently he smelt really bad, I didn´t actually smell him, but that may have been thanks to the overpowering non'aluminium deoderant I wear with loyalty.
Padraic said it was so strong that he smelt when this guy walked past our room (door closed)... anyways, what we thought was hilarious was the 80´s net'vest he was wearing, with his middrift showing. Wish I had a photo.

Back to the story, we got ´dinner´from the shop across the road because now it was really dark and we had all been scared (taxi driver ´don´t leave your house tonight´). The shop was run by Asian people, I think Chinese, which suprised us all. It wasn´t really a shop either.. it was more a jail with all the food behind bars. We came to discover that all the small supermarkets and dairys and most the restaurants too, are all run by Chinese. I have spent a lot of time trying to work this out in my head.. I guess there are more opportunities for poorish Chinese to earn money in a place like this, where they like MADE IN CHINA for the cost and they don´t have as much work ethic.
I don´t mean for that to sound as harsh as it does, but it reminded me of Fiji where Indians suceed in the stores more... I guess then the Chinese people call up their cousins and friends and before you know it there is a large community here. I was wondering Why Belize but 1, it´s a 3rd world country, corrupt so easy to get into, 2: I think this is the only, or at least one of, countries with ENGLISH as the official language.

Our dinner consisted of Peanut MandMs, the only thing here that is cheaper than in Mexico, and some Onion chips. Our room was predicably crap, but I think it only cost about $6 NZ each. Padraic paid for me to..I was going to go find my Scotia Bank but if tough lookin Belizeans tellin me not to go outside, ya girl aint goin outside!
Although I did the next day - the 21st of October, my birthday over this side. I actually left without saying nothin, freakin my Irish parents out a tad. But I needed the bank, and couldn´t sleep anyways - between the pool-pub place in the neighbours house, the building in the other neighbours yard and the various horses trotting past (I figured they were for tourists, but was unsure why tourists would come around here.. turns out we were in the centre of town aka there is NOTHING in Belize Citttaaaayyyy *say like a gangsta).
I walked up a road, past Uncles´s shop aka the Chinese jail dairy, a church, a school, a few boat shops (we were right on the river) and a few shops that I am positive weren´t 100%, or even 30% legal.

I then walked over the main bridge, at this time not realising it is the main tourist attraction in the town. Only until later when I spotted it on all the postcards did it click. Although, it was far from a `silly me`moment - as the bridge is ugly, plain, maybe from the 70s but apparently moved for boats every now and again.
Right over the other side of the road (partially in 1st picture) was a sign stating `WE SELL DRUGS AND POISONS` which managed to take away from the pain of my toe for a second for me to find funny, and then realised that those poisons were exactly what I needed. One thing I loved about Belize is that all the signs are still paintèd like it is the 60s.
`Bienvenidos a las Setentas`or `Welcome to the 60s`, in case there are other HAIRSPRAY fans reading. After attending the musical in Spanish I feel so bilingual.
Back to it - I found the bank with ease, as this was the centre of town, but besides all the cute kids (girls with cornrows) hopping to school and all the men sitting on the streets, potentially selling `stuff`, or newspapers and other legitimate items, or still out from the night before (note: all the kids were of African-Belizean descent, along with all the men.. on later bus journeys I basically got the race lay-of-the-land). Everyone says something to you, whether high or friendly. I didn´t pass a person didn´t say good morning, others asked if I was lost (it was 8am) and some called out inappropriate comments - they met my deathstare, which I feel I have perfected while being here, but also I think it has become my normal facial expression (due to a few people asking why I was angry when I wasn´t).
I withdrew money from the ATM (this was when I realised I was in the centre of town as there was a small crummy park, with concrete benches with ``Together we can make a beautiful city`` etc written on, where all the taxi drivers were sleeping.. and a big map with a YOU A HERE.. I was disppointed, but glad I knew to not waste time wandering), then realised I wasn´t exactly sure how much the Belizean currency was.. no fear as the Bank guard was already looking at me like `Hey mon, I help yu` - he informed me it is double the US$.

I hit up the supermarket on the way home, ready to bust out big money on Bday treats. It was confusing as although the Belizean $ is about 6x the Mexican peso, everything was the same price as Mex. E.g a bag of chips is $10. Oh yes, you think, that is a dollar NZ. NO IT IS NOT!
It is over $5 NZ, it is just that you are in Belize, where food is luxury.
There was nothing to resemble cake, but that didn´t matter as the shop was out of both `2`and `1`candles anyway. Just my luck.
The more I think about it, those are the 2 most popular numbers needed.. for teens and all the sad ones in their 20`s like me (that still feels weird, even after a year) who can´t bypass all the fun, tacky decor.

Anyways, I spent way too much on very little and returned to meet up with the others (stern, but glad I was alive) and after spreading our cinnamon buns with Philadelphia using one of Padraic´s membership cards (see photo of them on bunk) we made our way to the ferry terminal... beside this `moving`bridge attraction. I bought postcards and stamps successfully (although the guy was trying to sell me 30c stamps for $1 a piece! I was all `30c stamps cost 30c`He was like `How do I make a profit` you don´t! They`re stamps.. no point now anyway coz I forgot to post them... only remembered just after I crossed the boarder (as the thoughts.. was there anything else I was supposed to do over that line? cross your mind), and then unsuccessfully looked for a newspaper with my 21st Birthday date on it... Fail because in Belize they only print they only print it once every two days... so my option was the 20th, or the Sunday edition that - on Thursday - had already been printed.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

BIRTHDAY IN BELIZE PART 1

So, Tulum was drop dead stunning. I spoke of my bike adventure, then the next day we went ... I have had a blank... a whole day has been erased from my memory.. so much going on.
I know what we did the day after... we woke early to go to the Tulum Mayan ruins )small, but on the water... so stunning. Me and Roisin were talking about how crap the sky looks next to the sea... whereas in Oaxaca the sky was stunning.



Tulum is quite small and very well kept - like a Golfcourse, but there isn´t too much information there. Unlike the other ruins where they know some history, the plaques literally read ¨This was a house¨ and other obvious information. Although, there was a wall around it still, apparently only the priests and rich could live inside the walls.



Later we headed to AKUMAL to swim with the turtles. I think I have actually already written about this... I am slightly obsessed with Turtles.

So after I posted the last info, it was time for my Irish lads to finally rid of me... they asked what I was doing, I was all pathetic and ´I don´t know...´ they were all come with us.. and that is when I realised that is exactly what I wanted to do.

So only about an hour later we were on a bus heading to the northern city of Chetumal. This is very close to the border, so you literally change buses and then within a minute you are off getting your passport stamped. The whole process was very easy... all the guy said was ´´You coming back¨ (and $200 pesos, which they aren´t supposed to make us pay.. but that man was standing inbetween us and that country)and I emphasized my YES... this was my fear - what if they don´t let me back...

Then we hopped on the bus again (in no man´s land... or Melize..Bexico..) only for long enough to pass over a bridge, pass a few casinos and a brick shop and then we exited again at the Belize boarder. I freaked out and ditched all of the food I had, unsure what machines and such lay ahead of me. Shouldn´t have bothered... I stepped in with my luggage, the first REALLY friendly guy gave me a stamp and then pawed through my passport (´´this is the most beautiful passport I have seen!´´) and showed it to the equally cheerful lady next to him.

¨How long you in Belize for?¨ A few days. ¨A week?¨ At most.´¨I´ll give ya till the end of the month... just in case you don´t want to leave. Have a GREAT time in Belize¨

I practically skipped to the next lady, the baggage checker, I went to lift my bag on the counter ´´Don´t bother´´ she said. ¨Got any alcohol?¨ (she asked while texting) No. ¨Any food?¨ No. ¨Welcome to Belize¨ (still texting) Is that it? ´Yeah. Have a good holiday Maám¨.

Well the whole thing was very easy and exciting. Side note onthe people of Belize... Most we encountered were of Black descent, including all those at the boarder, on our bus, in Belize city and most on the island we went to. Others are Mayan (the native people of Mexico and Northern Central American countries) or expats. Due to the integration there are people from Light to pitchblack dark. The official language is also English... although it is slightly remixed and most the time it was quite hard to catch.

Our bus trip showed ´Apocolypto´, Mel Gibson´s Mayan film. It was in Mayan which I thought was fab... I never bothered going to it when it was at State because it was R18 and I knew that meant violence. But I loved it... I think I have a appreciation for it, after being in Mexico and at MAyan Ruins that I wouldn´t have had in the theatre. The crap DVD )all is burned) froze in the last crucial 5 or so minutes (although once on the island I saw it in outdoor theatre.. so got the end) and then they started to play ridiculous, cheaply made music videos. Songs here litterally either use a reggae beat or rhyme ´shizzle´with ´nizzle´etc and they have an instant following.

As we were parking outside the bus station in Belize city a taxi driver jumped on the bus to make sure he nabbed us. We got in his van.... I don´t know how the windscreen was still on.. it looked like it had been shot at with about 10 huge cracks. He drove us to an ATM around the corner where he got out of the car to keep an eye on Padraic (we had been told to not go outside at night by a HUGE gangstar lookin father of four who had huge dreads, a backwards cap, timberland shoes, a huge football jersey and gold chains on the bus he was all ´When I head to da city, I remove my chainnzzz´), apparently druggies and theifs take over at night.

Sorry, tired.

A few stolen photos from Tulum




The first group shot has my Irish parents in the middle and the Turks on the outskirts. The guy on the left insisted having the palm in the shot. It was at Akumal, where there is a turtle reserve.
On the top right the picture is taken from the Mayan Tulum ruins.. it was a fishing village.. none of the actual ruins are in this shot...







These beach shots are from Tulum. These were the first glimpses we saw of the Caribbean! Boy, were they good first glimpses... I only hope they come out as good on my camera..



Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Tulum take 2

So, as I mentioned earlier, I have become the Gary Williams of Mexico, riding around in my highlighter vest. They try and make you wear them after 6pm only, but I wear mine all the time because that is the kind of safety-cautious cat I am.

No one else wears them, not even helmets actually.. but HELL we are on the highway.
Speaking of which, As I was biking across the road yesterday a car could have potentially hit me. Not my fault - this guy must have been going over 200km. It was a terrifying few seconds - he was miles away when I started, but was going at SUCH a ridiculous speed that when I saw him I just looked straight away with the notion *Maybe if he hits me and I am not looking, it will be better...* and just peddled like mad.
The jackass never slowed down, instead blaring on the horn... ahhh I was clearly in the right.

What we did yesterday was head to a beach called AKUMAL to swim with turtles. It was myself, Irish parents and two Turkish lads we met on our tour with the fiesty American in Palenque. When she was fighting one of them was like *Can I go get some food?*, it was quite funny at the time. They love football and Turkish kebabs. They were harping on about how NZ only got into the Soccer world cup because the Aussie team switched divisions or something... and I{m like *Lads, NZers do not care HOW we got there.. they care that we got there*....and were undefeated of course. People do not realise how this has boosted soccer... I think half the country did not realise we had a team.

Anyways, the turtles. This had been recommended to us by the same British girl who said *This is the most ammaaazzzing hostal in the world* about the shabby place in San Cristobal with the U2 poster, the *hummingbirds in the yard* (I wish you knew what she sounded like.. think dreamy, fairy posh-like British) and the crazy wizard with his bread and cheese.
So now we were skeptical of this cockeyed optimists *It was the greatest experience of my life* turtle-swim experience.
But her recommendation came in handy, as the 3 tightarses (say in Irish accent... like Father Ted) remembered the bit about her paying 70 pesos for a mask only.
What happened when we got to the beach (in collectivos, which I was incorrectly calling progressivos... aka White vans that act as public transport) was that the first flax-made stand we came across was a snorkel tour one, where we inquired about equipment... he told us it 70 pesos for the mask, then 50 more for the compulsary life jacket, then 70 more for fins... which we need coz we will get tired... or for 200 pesos we can go on a *tour* with them. Then they made us watch a consrvation video with rules (as it is a ecological park), which reinstated these facts. Plus they wanted a $200 peso deposit. We were all getting all nervous, as we didnñt have enough money.
In the end we got 3 masks, for 70 pesos, but from another guy - A Cuban *New Zealand has nice cheese* - and took turns. This was a brilliant plan, as constructed by the Turkish Engineers.. the irish are Engineers too... they all seem to be different types though.. I do not know as I failed Science (note: doesn{t matter with good old NCEA).
Anyways, turns out we didn{t need all the stuff as the video said, and you only swim about 25 metres before you spot a turtle or too. The video also had rules... no more than 2 mins with one turtle... stand 15 feet back (although you wouldn{t be able to see it), and no more than 8 tourists with one at all times (Roisin said *How many Mexicans?).
These rules were not enforced by the *tour guides*. They made it sound like they go to better places and you see more, but in actual fact - you board a boat, they drive you the 25 m then park and wave you back after an hour. They are their polluting the ocean they showed us the Video about protecting.. I was watching the turtles and breathing in petrol!

They are beautiful though. I have always loved turtles, particularly because they are good luck in Fiji. But these moved so gracefully -and they are all tile-like on their skin. Their necks were particular cool - like scrunched rubber as they move in and out.. .and when they come up for air - Ohhh those little heads. Their were lots of stingrays too, which the whole world should fear... Crikey! They killed Steve Irwin for goodnesssake!

Got to run now, will come back later when the owner is not here... it is like it is his mission to irritate with his endless yelling and snorting and sneezing everywhere... ooo - he is spitting now.

Ps -- Guess it is my NZ birthday?

Monday, October 18, 2010

Merida to now (if I can manage)

Right. Apologies for the behind-ness. Everywhere we were going we spent a night there so it was crucial to actually see the place we were in... and not spend hours in internet cafes.

Last post was Number 50. But it was pitiful, so this one kinda is.
APOLOGIES for writing so much pointless crap, but I want to remember it ALL but can{t be assed writing in a diary. It is probs just my Ma and Pa reading this still so no wuz cuz.

But now, my brain is scattered and full. Apologies about no photos... I thought it would be easy to attach them... try it on Mexico Comps.

We headed from Palenque to Merida on an overnight bus - funny thing by the way: Palenque did not have an ATM for my bank so my Irish parents had to pay my way. I actually feel like they are parents... they have these trips planned out and I just follow them wherever they go. Now they were also shelling out for meals, a la Gary. Actually, Roisin finds it hard to like people - like my real life mum. She also walks very fast like her too.


The bus ride was cold, as always, but I managed to sleep for most of it. As the bus pulled into the station I did a last min toilet dash (while gratis aka free) barefoot. I contemplated ´putting on my crocs but in classic naive fashion thought *What could possibly go wrong?*


I will tell you what could go wrong - these damn doors are REALLY hard to open, because they can{t be swinging about over bumpy roads. I thought someone was in it originally, but since the bus only consisted of my Irish parents, a French hippy girl, a Mexican man in the back and a Mexican couple (who potentially were on their first bus trip as they wandered the bus trying to work out where they were supposed to sit. They asked the French girl who helpfully said [Up there somewhere* so I offered to help. They were seats 9 and 10, right infront of me..I am sure you were dying to know). Anyways, a quick scan of the automobil accounted for all people.
Tried the door. Really tried the 2nd time. On the third I yanked SO hard.. third time lucky.

Or Unlucky.
I whacked the BEJEEZUS out of my toe. As I may have mentioned, I have broken both large toes... and they have never fully healed. I whack them and there is instant pain and this time.. a lot of blood.

What I only learnt later when the immense pain had not departed, I had actually cut it open AND ripped the toenail half up. Sorry for that detail.. but that is obviously the story.
So that explains why I was hopping around like a crazy, mime-Screaming.
I should have recognised the signs because this is exactly what happened to my teacher, Mr Cross, on form one camp when we all attacked him with a waterfight. But he hopped around like crazy and mime-Swore.

Anways, that was - and still is - painfull. Could not see too much of what was happening originally, due to my stylish silver with pink-purple glitter nailpolish (When in Mexico...), but it is quite demented. I will spare the gory details, but I would have liked this injury had a better story come with it.

The hostel in Merida was beautiful. It had a nice terrace area with tables and was painted all my faves - mainly yellow with some red, blue and green too. And it had a big ass pool. I didn{t want to leave... still sad I have really. Although there was nothing much happening in Merida - was still awesome. The first morning I sat nursing my toe as I talked with a nice British couple about Flight of the Conchords for about 2 hours.


So I wandered the town on the first day - eating at a place with the Meal-of-the-day for $38 pesos, good deal - and the locals were swarming the place.
Tostado (type of corn chips really... but not made from corn?) with hot hot salsa and a fabulous vege soup. Enchilladas for the main.. I skipped on the chick so beans, vege and salad filled my tortillas. The drink was Jamaica. Have I mentioned this drink (pronounced Ha-my-ka)? Obviously the name of the Rasta country, but also dried habiscus flowers boiled with water. It is apparently really good for you.. it comes out purple and with sugar tastes like Ribena. Probs has more vitamin C too (BURN).

I was heading for the town centre when I saw a theatre with a local comedy with it{s opening night that night (15th) and thought I{d go. *It has been a while since I saw theatre* Thought I.

Well, go to theatre I did... but not that show. Unfortunately for those cheap $20 peso thespians, I found a better $75 peso offer. So for the price of a kids movie ticket at our local State theatre, I watched an enthusiastic team put on SPRAY (aka HAIRSPRAY aka the musical) with the tag line {No puedo parar] - I can not stop... I recognised this and the design and picture on the poster as the beloved musical.

Despite work getting done onthe theatre so it was filled with thick dust, I sacrificed a clear throat for my high class ticket, then hurried back to the hostel to get changed.

No time to eat, as the show started at 7pm. But it did not - I never know when Mexican time aplies and when it doesn{t. There have been awkward tours where I have held up everyone, thinking the oposite would happen so just pottering around wasting time. Just the other day at Chichen Itza, I split from the parents who wanted a tour.. then they waited for me for an hour!

Back to business: The show curtain raised at about 7:40 pm. I have found Mexican audiences don{t take theatre particularly seriously. For starters: there was hardly anyone there. For seconds - the people who were there were all part of large family-contingents bearing flowers.. so were forced there by a cast member. People slept, talked, ate and texted during the show and no one seemed to care. The biggest laughs came with technical difficulties, everyone loved when the set guys came on, because the lights were always up.

I sat with the other 30 odd people (In Teatro Merida, which can hold 100s), thinking about the lack of funds our theatre groups have... and how could they afford the rights to a big Broadway musical like this.... Again, the *Is Mexico 3rd world or 1st world* argument played itself out and I realised that this show was more 3rd world than 1st.. no rights had been purchased, but rather a burnt-subtitled-copy of the 2007 film starring John Travolta as Edna Turnblad. The dance moves, jokes and styles were all direct copíes, I learnt early on. This worked in my favour, as most the time I didn{t know what they were saying, but did from knowing the movie.
The cast were REALLY good. Very over the top, but I have watched Mexican TV so expected nothing less. All the actors playing the African-American parts (a vital part of the show, set in Civil Rights movement) were literally painted black. At first I was a bit shocked, but nothing harsh was meant from it.

The next day we missioned to this attraction that the Conchord{s fans spoke of. There are these things called CENOTES, which are literally waterholes underground. The town we visited... we think the whole town survives off this tourism.. we took a local bus (aka a white van) to the town, from their they take you in a cart on the front of your motorscooter to the *trucks*.

The trucks are carts which are on train tracks, pulled with a horse and a driver steering. So fabulously old times... I loved it - something uninfluenced. What was best is that we had the oldest driver, Abuela aka Grandfather, he even had his name painted on the cart, all the other drivers really respected him.

There was only one path (and four people max to a cart) and carts coming two ways so they had to stop, let their horse eat grass and physically lift their cart off the tracks, one side at a time. Paudraic kept trying to proove his manhood and help - but just got in the way. BORED YET?
These Cenotes... holy... one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen - National Geographic stuff. We walked down some VERY dodgy stairs to get to them.. the first were concrete, the largest.. leading to a beautiful large cave all with Stalictite (spelling? my crappy St Joes Science just taught me the name) decor. The water is AMAZING shades of blue.. will look up a photo to try and post from the internet. The second and third had other unmarked holes on the surface, where someone could accidentally plummet to their death. We swam in all 3, but it was always hard to get back up once in the water because the wooden made ladders were all broken (one missing about 8 planks.. only having one at the top). To get into the third cenote we had to take a vertical ladder for every slippery, mossy, branch step. It was a terrifying 31... felt like 100. They werent in line, some fixed on with crappy wire. But we made it down, and it was stunning. Those deadly holes provided beautiful light.. it really can{t be described unfortunately!

On the way back the leader man charged us double what he originally quoted, which pissed us off, but hey - third world sign. On returning home we had a meal, me again with Meal of the day which again was glorious... Paudric got a food point for having Fajitas (although hasn{t earnt one in a while because he has only ordered Fajitas ever since) and Roisin got minus one for ordering the caeser salad for the second night in a row. She doesn{t understand why Mexicans put Avacado on everything. I don{t understand why she doesn{t always want Mexican food.. what will I do in NZ.. all I can think of good there right now is Haven Road fish and chips, NZ dairy products, bbq kettles, cookie times and my mums baking... next bus I take will be one way to Obesityville.

Anyways, we headed for a bus to Valladolid, a random town that most tourists do not hit, but we did to get close to the new 7th wonder of the world (meaning not in the original 7.. only recently this happened... unfortunately meaning you can not walk up any of it.. which is actually good now with the 1000s of daily visitors. Our bus to Valladolid was hilARious. We took a 2nd class this time (1st class usually equals tourist with tv etc.. although vaires state to state) because it was to be half the price and was only a few hours.
We were assigned seats but I mentioned to my Irish parents that there were definatly more people getting on than there were seats (we were at the back of the line.. the only with luggage).
Sure enough, we found ourselves standing right beside the door, which turned into us sitting on the steps. Until the first stop, where they let on about 6 new men.. two of which were VERY drunk. Guess which 2 I somehow got sandwiched in between?
One was dropping his hotdog on the elderly man sitting below him( and calling me Tall Gringo aka whitey), the other trying to talk to me although failing to produce words of a Spanish or English nature, so only making elaborate hand gestures - which meant letting go of the railing, which meant falling on the teenage girl below him. The Mexican women around were all unimpressed, snapping at them in fiesty latina Spanish from time to time. It was a big pantomime really.

More people wanted to get on the bus (explanation.. the bus stops every town from Merida to Villadolid... so the peeps were coming home from work or returning after a week of work.. it was 7pm on a Saturday night), but no one was moving back (there was still room for about 15 more). I tried to rouse them by yelling in broken spanish things like *We need more space* and *a lot more people*.. everyone stared at me, most with shocked expressions. I felt on stage.
Most of them felt obliged to move after my performance, but a few who didn}t let the whole team down. There was only space for about 3 more and the others were told to wait an HOUR!

Once I got a seat I talked to a very nice Mexican man, who told me of how he has the best cook in the world as a wife, his twin sons and daughter and how he thought NZ was in Europe and Lord of the Rings was filmed on the computer. I missed some of what he was saying, all in very quick Spanish, but got most jists. It was the first real spanish I had attempted for a while.. my brain has appreciated the break.

The hostel in Valladolid was also a stunner, because of the beautiful outdoors area... with an outdoor kitchen, hammocks, bathrooms, painted yellow and blue and pink. The rooms aren{t much, and found myself cold once more in the night.... dang, we in the hot now! We get a van-bus in the morning, to Chichen Itza.. the man pulled the classic - we are leaving in 15 minutes but didn{t return for another 45... classic Mexicano. He was trying to round up a few more passengers, failed - it is low season, although it didn{t look that way at CI.
Well our student ids got us free entry, once again - this was a real score due to the $18 NZ entry free now it}s all a world wonder and that.
An American (or brit?) bought the land the Mayan ruins are on in 1900 for $75 USD... little did he know what he would find! now it actually felt less like traditional ruins, more like a field with 100s of locals selling goods (saying Nearly free), with a few old stone buildings put there.

There were SO Many people... hoards of tours. People just jump in with them free, as there are about 50 tours all with about 50 people. The irish went off for one... I found myself in the middle od one with Japanese retirees for a while.. stuck with it for the novelty... I was obviously the odd one out but I did, like all of them, have my umbrella raised. One of the ladies kept looking at me with a really serious/disgusted face.. like I had come to take her children away.. or attack her.

The highlight for me was the $5 buffet I had afterwards. Although I went nuts with the green salsa (only one there so thought it was mild.. salsa vedre I thought, aka green salsa) but it shred my mouth apart. I stood up thinking - this is kind of hot, I should invest in a drink - then moved into the cafe to the juice man saying Coke, kind of choking.. he pointed me to another lady.. by the time I reached her tears were streaming down my face. She pointed me to the bar, but I was intercepted by the hostess who saw my urgency but felt the need to ask me what type I wanted [Normal, normal] I squeeked, while trying to control my eyes and now running nose.
That first sip of Coke (not a fan of coke btw, especially their exploits of Mexicans...) was the only good, non Vanilla sip I have ever had.

We caught the bus to where we are now, TULUM. This is a town South of Cancun where the American{s and hotel chains haven{t reached. The long stretch of beach/es is BEAUT.I:FUL. We are at the CARRIBEAN! I was waiting for this moment... and I can confirm, photoshopping does not take place with these kids - this ocean means business. The hostel is CRAP but free bikes so I spent all day biking and stopping every 2 mins to take 100 photos of the same thing. I swam about 5 times too. The water is crystal clear, then light blue, then bright blue further out!
I rode my bike (with Orange fluro vest a la Gary Williams) happily for hours on the highway, then on the road, until I rode into a National park... so then rode for hours in between the clay gravel potholes until I had a 3 km stretch of beach to myself. So the day in the whole... rode bike, photos, swim. Repeat x 10. I now feel I know the Carribean... if the Pacific ever lets me down, I know where to come.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

My route (BLOG FIDDY)

We are currently in a town, Valladolid, which is about 1/2 way between Merida and Cancun. We are here to go to CHITCHEN ITZA....

So obviously that wasn´t the whole week.

Great new, I have an apostrophy/ee button.

I am currently very cold, odd - since I am finally out of the cold. But it is only 7am and all the
windows in this place are permanantly open.
The lady is mopping under my feet as I speak. She is warm - knowing to wear her jeans and jacket. But that is okay because TONIGHT....
OFF THE TO CARRIBEAN OCEAN! At last, the time has come.

But sorry, now we are backtracking.
FIRST: Where I left out was San Cristobal.
I arrived on an overnight bus from Oaxaca, this took about 11 hours. We changed hostels and then were off to the market. Solo for veges coz none of us could be ARSED (hanging with the Irish) doing much but eating. We made a pasta and befriended a British lad, Martin, Asian-British .,. which is of course what excited me - never met an Asian-decent person with a semi cockney accent!
That night we had a bonfire... they are supposed to have them everynight at 8pm but they are also supposed to have Salsa on Mondays and Tuesdays and that didn´t happen.
But I had bought marshmallows and Roisin found some kind of meat skewers, we sat enthusiastically by the empty fireplace until about 30 mins after 8 when a girl went up and asked for us.
Because, Child - it was COLD. This place is ABOVE the clouds. It is beaut during the day, but run for a llama when the sun sets.

Interesting fact: LLAMA is one Spanish word that Euros fail to correctly pronounce. In Spanish, double L is a Y. We have succeeded with this rule for Tortillas.

The bonfire was a great success. These 2 middle aged couples (Canadians aye Ma) who are travelling the world on their motorbikes (not all at once though... but they came from Toronto and were in South Mexico 4 days later... IMPRESSIVE) anywho. They had bike NZ (probably in half a day, but the Interislanders speed may have screwed that up) and guess what was their fave city... NELLLSSSOOOOnnn.
They mentioned it before me! Did you know that in the new NZ Lonely Planet they have ranked ABEL TASMAN NAT´L PARK as the top thing in NZ??
I have been spreading this gospel since I got to Uni.. I should´ve got paid for this....

Anyways, they were all ¨I could live there¨ and then I dropped the ´I´m semi-oneofyou, my Ma is Canadian aye´ and they weren´t suprised that a Cancuk was in Nelson. Then they wanted her story and the whole KFC-working-TableTennis-Playing-Illegal-Accountant Father came in to the story. I have always wondered if my reasons for my father being in Bermuda are true... but never wanted to ask for clarity incase I have had the marvellous tale incorrectly in my brain for years.

That night we headed to a crepe place for dinner. Well, they did. Unfortunately, I was called across the road to a place with my FAVE Churros (stick doughnuts) and these were Rellenos aka Filled aka you pick a sauce and they pour it in! Sooo good - and clever. Once I had Choc sauce I also needed icecream so a choc-vanilla sundae with Caramel sauce helped that. All traditional mexican, of course.

The next day we hit up this river in a boat. It is the attraction that Chiapas is known for. It was beautiful because of the huge clifts. But we saw about 100 crocs, some beaut waterfalls and even 2 monkeys. I am starting to love monkeys again after a traumatic chasing in Cambodia.

They dropped us in town so I walked up towards this church on a hill. My Irish friends had tried this walk already, only to be greeted by to little ´´Money for the school¨ Oliver Twists.
They came out 29 pesos short. But i knew better because of them. The boys get you to write your name, then make you pledge an ammount... their English is only ¨Your name¨and ¨Money for the school¨. I rejected them both individually, then on the way down asked if it was for the school - the boy was saying ¨Siiii¨ in this way grown men say it, SO convincingly - he must´ve learnt it from his papa because his face scrunched in a very adult-manner.

Anyways, on the way up I came across a girl I had met at school in Oaxaca, Veronica. This was weird because although travellers (who all take the same route) bump into each other frequently... she had left Oaxaca a week earlier for Mexico city and then Cancun, and I was supposed to be heading off in the opposite direction.

After the one church, I spotted another on the other side of town(it had a GREAT view) on another hill so trekked up their. I walked down a closed off tourist street where almost every shop and international restaurant was run by expats. I was in a 2nd hand book shop, run by an American lady, and she had an oven at the counter - she was baking AMAZING SMELLING Cookies and Brownies... with Icing of course. I stood their staring at her thinking ´´This is actually my dream¨.

The other church was beautiful and had great views again.. .everyone described SC as ¨A pretty little town´´ but the place is HUGE. All these people, up above the clouds.

Unfortunately, either on the bus or the street, me Irish lost their camera. The company of course, was no help with this. I wonder who has it now?
So dinner was a bit of a downer, but we all followed Roisin to a Pizza place, where they were playing Anaconda movie in Spanish. That is one bad movie with some bad graphics.

Next day we rose, had our AMAZING included breakfast (the hostel was 119 a night... about 12 dollars NZ), AMAZING was used because I saw and used a toaster for the first time since I was staying in the OC aka Amanda´s house week one. It was toast, coffee, yogurt, fruit... wow. We got on what was supposed to be a 5 hour bus ride to Palenque. The whole trip was through small villages with about 500 speed bumps (was in the bathroom for a whole run of them, getting tossed around viciously). We wondered why all the villagers were staring like they´d never seen a bus before, when buses to Palenque were frequent. Turns out, they may not have.
The highway was closed, so the 5 hour bus ride was almost 8 hours.. I was urked. But, we did see a lot villages and Mexican life. We passed about 100 schools, most with one room - some with 2. They all had full sized basketball courts. I guess this is where the Mexican basketball teams come from, since everyone else is playing Soccer.

We arrived at Palenque and booked the tour for the next day. The hostel here was SO beautiful... actually, all the hostels have been - they are all sister hostels. I wish I had taken more photos but at this stage my camera was full. It was resort style (without pool unfortunately)... so clean too. We were happy to be back inthe heat, especially after the freezing AC they insist on shooting outof the buses here.

The tour was unique. We had an ass of a driver - a bit of a prick... I could tell from the 1st second. He did not want to be there. We went to the Palenque ruins first, which was beautiful... photos say 1000 words I guess. Our Mexican student IDs got us off the 51 peso fee - although I am sad to not being able to hoard the tickets. But I think my stingyness outways my hoarder tendencies... RA may not agree. Gaz would, traits from him. We are proud tightarses.
The bathrooms were also free - a rarity for Mexico.
I got whistled down by a man for being a badass and walking on this grass. We were up on a building and he was all
The tour guide said we were to meet him back at the cafe at 12. We were SO hungry so practically ran to the ´´cafe´´at about 11:30 (we got to the ruins about 8:30)... only to find 20 tables, a coffee machine and a half filled snack machine.
The thing is, if they put a cafe there - they would RAKE in the money. About 100 people came trhough looking for food in the hour we were there. Yes, hour. One hungry hour.
The tour guide didn´t even come back... another bus driver had to call him for us. We got on the bus (us 3 and 3 turkish guys we met -THE FIRST TO RECOGNISE MY ACCENT!! Turkish Guys!! really), to discover a mexican couple and American trio who had joined the tour... One of the Turkish guys mentioned in a friendly manner to the driver that he was late... the driver didn´t care. I said ¨no one tip him¨ and the american girl hollered ¨I´m with ya sister¨ (on the tour in San Cristobal we had virtually no choice about some tippings...the guy on the boat was like ´Now everyone gives me tips... usually 10 pesos each¨, which everyone was willing to do coz this guy found animals and such... effort was involved. The driver of the bus wanted tips too - only one lady did.. you gotta work for your money! He didn´t say a word...and potentially stole the Irishmens camera).

The American girl was already fuming about the driver... I donñy know what haapened but she was not happy. His driving was NUTS.. he went to pull out infront of a truck with 10 people hanging off the back, but had to swoop back behind after we nearly a corner. Everyone screamed (and swore) and the people on the back of the bus were screaming at him and he didn´t move his eyelids from half way down his eyes. Didn´t apologise... well, as expected the American lady (with fluent spanish) went NUTS... she did a great, rapid speech about how we don´t want to die. The tension became awkward until we got to the next stop, a huge waterfall you can walk around.
We got out and the driver wanted our funds (you have to pay extra money on tours ALL THE time ... for entrance fees and here Zapatista fees for the rebels too), the American lady wanted him to produce tickets, because she knew he would keep the money. We stood their as they raged at each other, then her 2 male friends got involved... I wanted to take some photos of it but didn´t want her rage on me.
We were so hungry, so we broke from the action (but continued to watch it, especially as multiple mexican drivers got involved to try and calm her) in the cafe.

The waterfall was beautiful - only needs about 5 mins, but you walk under/behind it onthe rocks - get sprayed. I was falling everwhere coz I was in my crocs.
Next stop was Agua Azul... a river of the MOST BEAUTIFUL COLOUR,unfortunately the phots just don´t do it justice. There we swam for a few hours until the rain turned us cold.
We got back to the van, all shivering. Our driver was asleep but we had to wait for the mexican couple so we all got fries.
Here I learnt that the film NACHO LIBRE, from the Napolean Dynamite director, was based on a Oaxacan story and filmed in Oaxaca. So that´s the first thing I am going to watch on my way home!

Right now, gotta run - we are going to CHITCHEN ITZA; the most fmous ruins in Mexico.
Apologies for only writing about a few days here.. more will come!






Thursday, October 14, 2010

Where to go? Oct 9th?-16?

So,
I do not know If I have mentioned it before, BUT I was going to have an exam in Nov.
After a month in Oaxaca and a day of walking around in a panicked-daze, where I sat on the corner of a highway trying to think for half of it.
But I ended up here. Where is here?
Once again, a bit of explaining to do.. and now I have a certain learn-to-sing tune from Sound Of Music in my head.
On Saturday night I met up with the last time with my Mexican friend, as I was leaving the next day. We got Esquites.. this hot corn and various other ingreds soup... which I am now in love with. I could do with some right now....
I was under the impression that I had to pay about 270 dollars US to take an international spanish test. Last sunday, when I was taking a bus out that night (but I didn´t know where) I went to a internet cafe (well, hotel since in was Sunday... this is a Catholic country) I learned that A- I was supposed to sign up in person in on of the offices in the main city (there were only for das of registration left, and I was heading to one of two small towns). B - The exam is actually 4 hours long... WHHAATTT?
Originally i was urked because i had been in Oaxaca for a month, was finally leaving when I realised I couldçve done this easily weeks ago but now I had to stay another day.
Then I was urked when the 4 hours came back to me.. I wouldn´t say my Spanish can even last me 4 hours.. that is 5 different exams... talking, listening, writing, word recognisation and one other. And, this exam is only taken on 2 days in the entire year. So I was going to take it on
Nov 19th. In little over a month.
Although I wanted to have the ``I can do anything!` mentality, I knew this was impossible...
if I managed to study and learn enough I knew the stress of it all would eat me alive.
So that is why I was sitting on a corner.
Then I couldn´t work something out... the girls who have returned from Spain couldn´t remember jack, so I KNOW they couldn´t have taken this exam.
I went on the internet to try and get more info from my school website. Not a big success.
I emailed my Exchange man who I report to when I am away from school. A big stressed email,
to which the reply was
^Yep, you have to do it. Hope this clears things yup* or something as equally frustrating.
THe good thing was, it was now 6;15pm, I was on the internet for 15 mins and he happened to be online. If he hadn`t been.. I would still be in Oaxaca, significantly poorer and more stressed.
But he added an attachment.. alas, this attachment told me there was another way.
That way is to be tested, in any language, at a school in Adelaide. I think that the DELE, the international spanish exam, was actually higher than the level of the rest... if you go to a Eurocentre, I know the option was lower, because they compare with the DELE on the site.
ANYWAYS,
This exam costs $125 Aus.. so I could fail it and take it again and I am still paying less.
This way too, I can go to the school for a few prep lessons... I don´t feel like I have any help or
proper prep methods here.
Anyways, this option had not be presented to me (see above line email from man), but I am glad within those 15 minutes (while writing a panicked email to my parents.. as you do), it occured to me that the school exam CAN NOTbe the DELE exam. Just to check I emailed back adelaide and he rang the school to check.
I got the reply ``You can take the exam any day in the year....^^
THANK HEAVENS. IT was now 7pm, and I within seconds I decided that I was going to follow me irish lads to San Cristobal on a 9pm bus (a town ABOVE THE CLOUDS... donçt read about those temps in the Lonely PLanet... actually, you would. But I guess I donçt associate Mexico with cold).
I sent an email saying ``not coming ... wap, wap, wap``then just before logging off.. ``Cancel that, see you soon!```
I tossed the money to the attendent and ran home. Then I got my money and ran (full of adrenilin) to town... I was tossing up whether to run for a ticket or run to pack and then just get a ticket when i got there... but after full buses in PV, I wasn´t about to do that.
So I ran to town, bought my ticket (in the end the bus wasnçt half full...) and ran home to pack. This was about 7:30 now and I had furiously gathered my things and showered (something I have come a bit lazy at in oaxaca), and at about 8:10 Iwas standing on the main road flagging a taxi.. I could`ve taken longer if I hadn`t taken the ticket ladies `Get there 30 mins early` advice seriously. I don´t know why I did-- I guess I am waiting for the day when being early in Mexico is required..
Side story: I ran to the theatre last night to catch a 7pm show of Hairspray (YESSSS), only to hgave the curtain raise at 7:45. I could´ve had dinner and showered team!
I was at the station by 8:26 and all happy and excited, but not really believing that this exam that have thought I was taking for the past 2 months, was not necessary.
I managed to sleep on this overnight bus a few times.. I was the only one awake when the driver turned on the lights and announced there was a 30 min break in the middle of no where... and 3.30am!
On Saturday me and the Irish lads had run into a `British girl, who I started talking to because we wanted to know how much she paid for a painting (these guys are around selling them ALL The time... this is the first time I witnessed a`purchasè.
She wasn`t liking Oaxaca... she had just come on the overnight bus from San Cristobal in Chiapas where she said something about it being `the most GLORious place in the world`` and how we MUST stay at this hostel where there is a wizard who lives in the roof and a guitar for singalongs and HUMMINGbirds in the yard. Now it seems clear that she was a mix of over-enthusiastic and crazy.. but that didn´t get us at the time.
Only when i showed up to the hostel where Roisin and Padraic were woken by my voice as I walked in did it hit me. The man pointed me to the room (which was metres away from him... without a proper roof, and the first thing Roisin said was `We are NOT staying here.`
They already had, for a night, which was not the initial plan, but they showed up at the beautiful colonial house they saw on HostelWorld to find in barred up with wood, graffitied and smelling of urine. That was all outside... because there didn´t seem to be a way in.
That´s okay, they thought, we can go to the MARVellous place the Brit spoke so fondly of.
So this is where I fould them now, in a freezing, loud room half painted red and half purple, with a wonky U2 poster on the wall. They couldn´t sleep because two girls were singing french songs outside their room for half the night.
The kitchen was an old, filth-pit but inside we found ``the wizard``. An 60-something american man with huge white hair and a great beard (suprised?) with two Mexican amigos sitting with him, laughing at everything he said.
One he cracked was when I told him I was `studying at the moment` and he said ``Really, coz I thought you were standing there`` and CRACKED up with the same force as a Gary Williams Sneeze before I had even processed his funny.
He told us his South/Central american tales (he seems to have been travelling around, living at hostels for years, but has never worked in any of these countries...) and when we told him about the British girl he was very enthusiastic ``Ohhh yaaaa, It´s great when you hear about little gems. This is the best hostel I have ever stayed at in the whole world``--- this is when
wee realised that everyone has a different definition of what a good hostel is... this one cost $60.00 pesos.. about $6... most in Mex are $120.
When we saw him later on in TOwn he was in a huge Mexican jersey that they sell at the markets, had cut off, tight jean shorts only going mid-thigh, with sandals made from Rope.
He was luging his guitar with him and carrying a snack.
``What have you been up to?`` I asked. His reply ``Just eating some bread and cheese``.
Awkward pause. ``Is it good?``
``YAAA you should get some.. (then gave vauge directions to the bread shop and cheese shop).. Is it two blocks? it might be three....`` his directions were wrong. we didn´t want his amazing snack, but we did stumble across the the shop. Awkward pause.
``Were you busking??``
Awkward pause.
``NOOO, (capitals showing aggression) I don´t play for money. I just play to be free``- I don´t know how we weren´t laughing, but I was a mixture of happy and disapointed that my brother Guy wasn´t there.. it was good he wasn´t coz he would be in stitches... but at the same time I wish he had met him (who we know only as the wizard).

Monday, October 11, 2010

Lets start with MIERCOLES

Miercoles = Wednesday.

That was the day I met my loves Roisin and Paudraich. Now I am following them around the country.
I don´t know how we didn´t meet each other earlier, but somehow the 10 new students who started last week managed to hide from my Aus friend Kate and I.
After school, in the computer lab, they rescued my precious Bio Oil that I had left there.
That night was the cafe social and we, the 2 aussies and a British lady wanted chips.
Not Mezcal, chips. They were on the menu and we were all telling great chip stories as we are all from lands of chips.
Mexicans did not understand this attachment. And although normally they cut the potatoes and fry them up and add 4 sauces right in front of your eyes in the street carts... this crappy bar (did I mention the fact that the waiter got away with overcharging my friend $10, and another time they told us we have to move to a tiny table with 4 minature chairs (there were 6 of us) because
there were other people who needed the couches... (so what if we just had juices and chips!).

Anyways, the chips came out stone cold. Straight away the bolsy (is that a word) Brit was all ´´Áhhh excussssemmmmeeee - Theeesseee areee coold. FRIO¨. Not impressed with the lack of effort. The irritated waiter took them away, only to return with the same, still cold chips a minute later. This time everyone was appauled, ´frios´were used and spanish was attempted. He took them away and returned with them 20 minutes later. Cold, but the bowl was semi-warm.. I was laughing SO hard... guess this is a got-to-be-there moment.
But the Mexican-Australian said to the waiter in Spanish ¨She´s from England, she´s from Australia and she´s from NZ:.. these are people who know their chips¨ dead seriously.
The waiter was all ¨not my fault¨(which, if I have learnt ONE thing at my hospitality school it´s that that is what you DON´T say) but brought Mezcal shots. Shame we were hungry and wanted chips. The manager came over and asked him to get fresh chips and he replied, ¨It´s okay, I got them Mezcal¨. That being the answer to a lot in here.

Thursday we headed back to try our luck at soccer again. It was much the same macho-fight without-rules as the first time but my team gained the star player and the new Irish lad this time so it was pretty even. I didn´t even run back and forth this time. I just stood there yawning.

Friday was the Salsa class, which for the first time in 4 weeks I wasn´t the loan pupil at. The irish lads were suprised why no one else was going, to which I jokingly said ¨Coz the Germans don´t know how to have fun¨ to, which the German didn´t appreciate... turns out Germans don´t know how to take a joke either.

The salsa class was led by a classic gay man called Nay who say ¨Nay, not gay¨ but I knew better. My gay-dar is unbeatable. Paudraic, the irish lad, had me in stictches originally with his complete unability to get the steps. He was all over the place, making it harder than it was. It was even funnier becuase all the dance teachers here (well, the 4 I have had.. that is 100%) show you something once and then presume you´ve got it for the rest of your life.
Anyways, he convinced us to visit a salsa club that evening, which we thought would be casual.
Boy.... no.
We got their and Paudraic and Roisin got up straight away.. .this 60ish man asked me so I got up, figuring I had to do it once, saying ¨Yo no sabes¨(I don´t know) 100 times and he didn´t seem to mind. Everyone asks different people to dance for each song, and I realised after that he must ask people he knows can´t salsa because he definately can´t either!
I think his wife and friends are all pros so he pounces on foreigners. With only the basic steps I can go okay with a strong leader (aka one of the teachers) but with him... he was making moves up and flinging me into other people! I couldn´t stop feeling a mixture of how awkwardly funny and how embarrassing it was at the same time. One of the skills of salsa is keeping to a small space, which the other couples were forced to do with me spinning all over the floor.
But there were AHMAZING dancers. One girl I noticed straight away, who was flying all over the place (SO fast) with such grace, while able to genuinely smile and look pretty at the same time (something, I learnt that night, which is VERY hard to do... no other female in the whole place pulled it off)... she danced every song with all every man in the club.. she always outshone them... even the teachers (including Nay).
She was what I consider to be the picture perfect Latina. She had a black halter top on that showed her belly, with tight jeans and black boots.. her goldenish curls were originally up but she bust them out later... they were long of course, typical Latina. Me and Paudraic reckon she never stops salsa dancing and discussed at length her dancing on the way to work, spinning to grab the newspaper at the shop before strutting on to catch her change... we worked out her life.
I tried to take some photos but she was moving so fast she is literally a blur!

Saturday was to be my last and boy was it exciting. I ended up wandering around parts of the hood I had never seen before... not exactly tourist territory as i discovered.
A man saw me sizing up the streets and helpfully gave me directions in very fast Spanish to where 2 of the streets lead... wanting to take a different road entirely, but wanting to look like I appreciated his advice, I headed down one of them.
I know he didn´t mention ¨Prostitutas¨on this street but that is what I found.
There were quite a few, it was like with ants... you see one and then notice the whole trail.... I think the first one I saw was about 17... I knew something was up when I saw her leaning on a VW van.. but not really looking like she was waiting for anyone or anything.
And then I saw the shoes. The HUGE platform-heals that were about a foot high. They were clear plastic...all class. The other ants, bar one, all had the exact same.
These were the ugliest shoes I have seen in my life, and this is someone who owned light blue slip on platforms and saved up piano practises for my silver pulps. But like every near-21 year old I am blaming my fashions of past on Scary, Sporty, Posh, Baby and especially Ginger.

I wanted to give them money, not for their services obviously, but so they would get off the street and take off the drag makeup, but unfortunately I cannot afford to make up what they would miss from a days work. There must have been about 12 of them... they were only on the one block, which was only about 6 buildings long (small buildings here... they are all about the same size.. coz it´s still all colonial). The girls had their own posts, one even had permanently attached an umbrella to the fence. I noticed that the men walking down the street (not customers) were not even making eye contact... which I found respectful for a culture that wolfwhistles and makes smarky comments at anyone over 14...



I´M IN CHIAPAS!


i´VE left Oaxaca, the large state in the South to the right of the green, and am next door in a small town SAN CRISTOBAL up in the hills (above the clouds in the morning.. boy was it cold!) the last few days / week has been quite an adventure so when I have the energy I will update what I recall.
I am here with my Irish friends who I have decided to follow for the next week or so........
I took a 12 hour bus last night (LAST MINUTE) and have tramped around all day. Ex. haust. ed

Friday, October 8, 2010

THE PLAN IS.....

TO GET A PLAN.

At this stage, I have just done my last day at School here in Oaxaca, and on Sunday I am going to go to the bus station and work it out.

At the moment the options are as follows;
1 - Go to Puebla for 3 days, then up to Mexico City for a few days and then return toPuerto Vallarta for my birthday week.
2 - Go to Yucatan... and see what day I manage to make it back to PV.
3 - Go to Chiapas.. and see what happens.

I love Oaxaca but feel ready to leave.. All my friends are kinda of leaving now, or unsure what they are doing... my Irish friends are heading to Chiapas and then to Yucatan and Quinta Roo (aka the CARIBEAN) and then over to Belize.. they think I should jump over to Belize too! But none of us know what is needed at the boarder....... haha. I didn{t realise that Belize was so close to where I want to go, over Quinta Roo way.

I will get back to yas...

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Museos y Mas

So I have been hitting up the Museos big time recently.

On Sunday I walked past a large old building that I always walk past in the centre of town, but is never open... turns out it is a really cool interactive museum. It was really flash... really fun for kids too... it had lots of International stuff, information on languages and diff cultures (aka Aboriginals of Aus). I enjoyed it a lot... there was a video though showing how humans are like animals... and then at the end it was showing animal cruelty.. really graphic and upsetting stuff, I was suprised a little due to the number of kids watching.. but I guess here the kids are tougher.

I had an issue, which was I didn{t have facial wash. You don{t need facial wash, you say... you{re in Mexico!
No, I say. This isn{t the depths of Africa. I think I am one of those travellers who always expects 3rd world countries to be a lot more 3rd world... Suva suprised me, Bangkok and Phnom Penh too. Now, Mexico is about as 1st world as it gets for these places.
American and corporation influence is unfortnately everywhere, even heading out of Oaxaca (in the opposite direction to which I came from Mexico city) the highway is littered with fast food chains, huge american supermarkets, Sam{s Club, Office Max, Sears, Walmart.. boy, did I get a fright! For a city that seems so traditional in the centre..... I find it sad because these will be driving out local businesses (except the fast food chains, which are really expensive).
Their is a doco about WALMART, the name which I can not currently recall but it is a really good documentary about how small American towns have closed down due to their domination... then there is {China Blue{ which shows how these companies buy so cheap in China.. at the expence of Chinese slave labour.

Back to this.. I ended up busing to one of the huge ones (off the highway, but close... the one where I stumbled across that first lost Saturday... the one with the rifles) and was shocked to find a row of sunblock (which few mexicans use), a row of roll on deod and then another of powered, a row of creams for the face and body.. but alas! No wash.
I find it interesting that this is one part of International culture that hasn{t cottoned on.
Next stop was heading up toward {Calle Comerical[ as I have named the highway. Although the Pre Highway has a large Uni that stretches quite a distance one one side of the street and then various cheap restaurants, 1000 internet cafes and papeleria - which is shops where you get all your pen and paper needs.

My next stop was the first huge complex at the end of this road (past the Uni sports fields where there where a lot of kids playing, people running and a weird amount of solo sneakers lying about), was Soriana... this chain is in Puerto V too. They lacked rifles but had, in the ringed off makeup section, facewash and I bought the cheaper Ponds option, which I was familiar with from my trip to Camb, where it is cheap due to being made nextdoor in Thailand. I guess in Latin America they make it next door in Guatemala... or Honduras.

Interesting side note: Although currently considered Central America, Mexico considers itself North America. I was thinking that the irony is that they don{t want to be associated with the majority of the poor neighbours, but USA doesn{t want to be associated with Mexico.. although they should probably start accepting, since Mexicans seem to be a large chunk of the population after a few moments in history (i.e Mexican labourers let in free in the past, and the other thing I{ve mentioned before about the states formally part of Mexico).

Great stories I{m coming up with today right?
On the bus ride home I was ackwardly trapped in the centre of the bus as more and more students crammed in.. so I ended up getting off about an hour past my stop.. just to avoid Trying to squeeze through everyone. It was a nervous trip, as the bus moved further and further in a direction that all I recognised is that we were moving AWAY from my house, and it was now pitch black outside. Anyway, I am alive.. with yet another failed bus trip story.

So back to the museos aka museums. Today I hit up Casa Juarez, which as the name suggests, was the house of Benito Juarez, who I THINK (my political Spánish is vague) was Governor of Oaxaca and the President of Mexico. He introduced the liberal ideas like seperating church and state, despite being heavily Catholic which I think people originally couldn{t understand. What I did pick up for sure is that I was in his house, which I think he lived in with his aunt and sisters becuase his parents died when he was three... but it may´ve been the house where he lived with his wife (who was the daughter of his servant masters, 20 years his junior) and 7 children (5 others died.. this was in 1850s ish) but due to there only being 2 bedrooms (and he must have been well off at this stage)... anyway, I was okay.. very smalll with not much there. I think I was
the only visitor of the day which must have been disappointing since I don{t pay the $3.70 entrance fee, thanks to my ID.

Next stop was the Stamp Museum. Random, I know. The first room had an International room which was cool, as they had a stamp from almost every country I think (I am thinking most because they had the Pacific Islands, Antartica, Bermuda and Sao Tome and Principe.. which really made me laugh). It took me ages to find the NZ one (they had a map on the ground and then numbers corresponding, colour coded with the region.. NZ was Green 13). I think I couldn{t find it coz it was so dull. Other countries had brilliant colours, for example I think was Angola who had 8 stamps dedicated to the year of the child.. with brightly coloured drawings of children), or Malaysia{s who was a large Monkey holding her baby and the baby{s face was the stamp....
Ready for what NZ{s was... a proud display of Maori Culture? NO. A pavlova or buzy bee? Wrong.
A dark photo of a girl asleep on an animal or something. It was a motherflippin NARNIA film stamp... not even LOTR. OHHHH the shame.

My Aussie friends are into Art and Design etc (the Mexican one of them{s cousin AND aunty both have beautiful art galleries here) found a Art library. It is SO beautiful! I am really impressed with the money and effort that goes into Art education here... the library is lots of small connecting rooms and there are two terraces, both with vine roofs - one with tables and a mini cafe, and the others where secondary students taking art sit and draw. I spent time both
today and yesterday looking through photo books... yesterday was this cute one called 1000 Families where a man travelled a lot of the world, took photos of families (GUESS HOW MANY?) and then included a few sentences. My fave was this this Central African family - SOO happy - who{s write up said that they have a grass house that isn{t very strong and they want to buy corrugated iron for their roof but they can{t go to town coz they wouldn{t be able to find their way back to their house! I wondered how many people the have interacted with before this photo crew landed outside their hard-to-find doorstep. I would love to do a book project like that... I was originally inspired by a book of different nationalities children{s dreams.. some are uplifting, some heartbreaking.

I haven{t gone to the social evening in a few weeks coz I have found the other students (aka Germans) a little... flat. But this week the aussies are going and 2 new Irish friends too...
Rausheen (which I remember coz it is a ghetto black name too) and Paurick. Both aren{t spelt correctly, but I am finding the celtic hard to master. They have GLORIous accents and are planning to spend a year working in NZ next year... I told them that theycould see the whole country in three weeks, but I guess they are still keen.

In other news, I was supposed to be back in Puerto Vallarta this weeek... for those keeping track.
I kind of don{t know my plans at this stage ... they keep changing.. I kind of want to be somewhere else for my birthday I guess... that was the inital plan, which changed because my school schedual has changed

Monday, October 4, 2010

Perdon! Catch up---

So, every time I come to an internet cafe, I always forget the purpose... which is always to write on here.

Right, so starting with the lady down the well (this has slightly dramatised it).
Last Saturday I was walking down a main road in Oaxaca Centro (after being denied into an
art galleria because they didn´t have change for my $200 (mas o menos $20 nz) peso note when admission is $10 pesos (aka $1)... I don´t know why the banks here don´t spit out $50 peso notes because with every withdrawl I have trouble and end up on pointlessly visiting Supermarkets...)
more importantly...
A lady (to paint the picture, she was about 30, short but medium for a Mexicana, wearing a two piece lime green top and 3 quarter pants), fall as she was trying to cross the road because there
was a broken drain grate (it was missing one of the pieces... dang, this is hard to explain but normally obviously it is not big enough for a leg to go through).
People instantly stop and swarm when anything´s going on here... and men were instantly running off to go find metal bars to try and pry it open. People were also coming out of the stores trying to assist... I at the beginning offered up my sunscreen as a lubricant, but I could see pretty early on that it was stuck in there damn well.
The lady was very calm at first, she called a few of her friends (others had already called the emergency services).. and wasn´t panicked or nothing.
It is a weird situation coz you want to help.. but can´t... the women were all standing around doing this handskake thing they do when something is out of their control.. or dificil.. saying Äye-yai-yai¨ (not just Speedy Gonzales says this) or !Dios mio! (Oh lord!).

The emergency services... suprise, suprise... weren´t the fastest of responders.
First the like sidewalk policia came.. then I think they called in the Tourist police, who paged the
ACTUAL policia, who showed up one-by-one until there were about 9 of them, but they had no equipment.
A man went and bought vege oil from a shop to try and help, which originally the police wouldn´t let him use.. .but after having the police presence for about 10 minutes but no action, they tried it. I was shaking my head, knowing within the first minute that we ovbviously need the Firemen, but had forgotten what ´Firemen´was in Spanish (Bomberos) so was just impatiently biting my tounge.
This was the stage where she started to panic. I guess when the policia arrived she felt relieved, but they did more harm than good. The ambulance was next on the scene, after a policeman had to jump on his motorbike (complete with Aviator glasses) to go wave them down after they drove right past, a block away.
Finally I saw some efficient people! I think in High school they must tell the fast-movers that they have to go to Ambulance school. Unfortunately, once again, they don´t have the equipment.. but after discovering that the big guns were needed, they did manage to calm her and feed her a drip.

At last! In the distance we heard the Bomberos themselves. Thankfully they had the equipment, and thankfully they cut her out withen about 20 seconds (although, could´ve used them about 30 mins ago, before her pain and anxiety set in). Her leg was looking a bit worse for wear when it immerged to the world again, but not broken... only distorted by I think the blood and pressure, because bellow the knee was very thin. They wrapped her legs and put her on a stretcher and carted her away.

I learned the next day that she was actually pregnant... but all was well in the end. I learnt this becuase it was aparently in the paper the next day... a man did appear in the last 5 mins and was getting all in the workers way (she was already surrounded by about 10 workers.. the police were now directing traffic), but I was confused that no one was telling him to move away (he was right in her face! give her some room por favorrr).

Anyways, it was like a comedy of errors on the émergency services part, but in the end she was okay.

In more relevent news, I have a mexican friend! I real-life Mexicana, with an indigenous name and all (just the name though....). Her name is Nayeli, which is a fun mix of Nayland and... Eli?
But it is pronounced Nah-Jelly (but with a Mexi accent).
She is soooo nice and funny.. .she laughs SO Loud that it makes me laugh. She is a really happy person, she laughs at everything I say!
She doesn´t want to marry because it is a contract, and because she generally doesn´t like Mexican men... either too Arrogant/Confident or metro-sexual. For some reason people here always ask about marriage.. I think it´s coz at 20 years old (she was 21 this year.. 1989 too) this is marriage prime time here. Seriously. My teacher is nervous because he is 27 and only has 2 1/2 years until he is deemed unmarriagable (word?).
and all her male friends are gay... familiar?

I met her through ´Intercambio´which I only learned about last week,... there is the opportunity to hang with a student learning English from another school. Today we went to the craft stores which are like amazing Spotlights mexi-style. They have EVERYTHING.. things I didn´t know existed, to throw a fiesta from scratch. Man, they are houses of TACK Y.

Update: I love tacky, I love crafts.. I was in heaven.

Some of the things even I find tacky. There are these little plastic wine classes with frills inside that I couldn´t work out the use for.. and little wooden things... Nayeli explained that they are keepsakes for weddings. Everyone gives a little wooden or plastic pointless thing, that the couple puts somewhere in their home and looks at and thinks ´ohhhhhh´.

This is the 2nd time I struggled with this concept.. the first being when my teacher in PV was telling us how she made a wooden box and put rice in it.
I was like ¨Why?¨ and she was like ¨Becuase it was their wedding¨and I was like ¨..... why?
I kind of get it when someone makes something... (although they make things that 1- Don´t serve a purpose, and 2- aren´t pretty). But buying something that the people know was 59c at the craft store seems like more of an insult. But this is how they do it, mexi-style.

The last Cooking Class with the Uni kids was CHILE RELLENES. A meal that my same PV teacher harped on about ,so I was eager to try. It was only me and my Aussie friend Kate (have a mentioned her? She is from Melbourne and is here with her Boyfriend Bruno who is originally from Mexico city but is a MexiAussie.. they are going to start a Mexican restaurant in Melbs and am I saying this because we all must visit ... when In Melbourne obviously.. and when it is open too...)

Anyways, Chile Rellenes is made with large chilies (non existent in our parts, but I plan to recreate with Green Peppers) that have been grilled odirectly on the stove flame, filled with tomato, tomato puree, onions, garlic, herbs, chilies and chicken (that was fried)... OR mine had cheese and herbs... OR the one I made SUCCESSFULLY on Saturday had all that of the original, minus chicken plus zuccini, corn and mushrooms... then you make batter with egg and flour and dunk it in it. You then shallow fry it in oil... and serve it with a salad so it doesn´t just look like a lard plate full of heart attack.
Boy, is it good! I was so proud of myself too for beating the odds and not screwing it up on Saturday morning.. although it was a mission... especially beatingthose damn egg whites!