I did not really expect much of Honduras but in fact, it is actually a very beautiful and interesting country. It is also very diverse and mush more cultural than any other countries and cities I’ve seen in Central America. Anyways, here we go:
Utila
They say that it is a diving paradise, and it is! In fact it is probably the cheapest place in the world to get scuba license. The diving was not as great as the Red See but it was also pretty neat. I got to dive 10 times + a night dive. There are a bunch of pictures on the web site, I was practicing my underwater photography, and I think I’m progressing. The night dive was very special, the last time I was night diving was about a year ago, so, I don’t remember much. But this one was really cool; the water was very dense filled with florescent plankton. We looked like Jedi masters with our flash lights in the night sea. Unfortunately I could not really take a picture of that because the camera with flash can’t show what was going on. I should’ve taken a video... And another cool thing, the fishes were asleep, so I could take close up shots and tickle their bellies. Utila was also much more fun than Caye Calker and much cheaper. The people (all divers) were a lot of fun. The beer was $1.00. Additionally there were ¨booze cruses¨. You can guess how that went
Copan
It took me a while to get there, I even considered not going. But I went and it was worth it. It has the best preserved Mayan sculptures in the whole Mesoamerica. The glyphs were amazing. There is a staircase there, it contains about 4000 glyphs, and they tell the story of Copan. Also, there had to be a statue of one of the most important ruler of Copan, his name was 18 Rabbit. However, the stature was taken by the American archeologists as a payment for recovering the ruins. Now, it is in one of the Boston’s museum. Mental note: I need to see it; otherwise the picture will not be complete.
The town, called Copan Ruinas, was also very cute. I got to smoke some good cigars and drank good coffee. It was more expensive than anywhere else in Honduras (even in La Ceiba) but it was very relaxing. I even got a job offer there from one of the Americans who live there, he had a telecommunication company. It was kind of tempting but I easily rejected it. My time did not come yet.
I´m in Tigusigalpa right now. There was a taxi strike - fun. Nice city, will write about it later. I´m also going to a football game tonight... How about that!?
Tomorrow, I should be in Nicaragua.
Adios.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Back to the Caribbean
I’m now in a little Caribbean town called La Ceiba, Honduras. Tomorrow I’m planning to go to Utila, the smallest of the Bay Islands, a diving paradise. I’m planning to spend several days there and finally give it to the 2nd largest barrier riff in the world. I hoped to do that in Caye Calker, Belize but diving was overpriced and I did not particularly liked the island, although everybody I met who was there describe it as extremely beautiful and lay back. Well, maybe I’m just not an island person (I feel trapped, liked on Alcatraz), we’ll see what Utilla has to offer.
Honduras
I decided to that it was time to leave San Salvador and go see some of the best Mayan ruins – the Copan ruins. There was a nice town 30km before, called Santa Rosa de Copan. So, I was supposed to get the bus to the border (to El Poy) and catch another bus from there. When I got to the bus terminal there was a bus going to Santa Rosa. I asked the driver is that was “directo”, he said yes. I was in luck, or so I thought. After several hours the bus stopped and I did not see anything but another bus and I was told to get on it to the border. Well I did, I was pretty surprises when the name of the border town was El Amatillo. It was west side of El Salvador, way off where I needed to go. Apparently, there was a town called Santa Rosa in Honduras, hmm.., what a coincidence. The only way to go anywhere from here was Tegucigalpa. I did not want to go to Tegucigalpa but after some thinking I’ve realized that there was no choice. I pretended to be blind and deaf when moneychangers came up to me, I swore never to deal with them again. So, I hoped on the next bus to Tegucigalpa. I was sitting there hating myself, border-crossing, buses (I’ve been on the road for about 16 hours), El Salvador. Then I saw a couple, English speaking (I did not hear English for since I left the hotel). Brits, the girl had a puppet, the boy looked worse than me. I got curios and asked him what happened when we stopped for snack. He told me that on the same border (El Amatillo) when he got in fight over $2 with a tuk-tuk driver his money belt was stripped off him. The money, the cards all gone, only the passport was left, he had it in his hand. I could not help touching my pockets during his story telling. I pitied him a lot and at the same time I could not help thinking that all that shit which happened to me, was really nothing comparing the loss of my wallet. I don’t wear money belt and I do have a spear card but still that is a very bad situation to be in and I as glad that this did not happen to me, and hopefully it won’t. I’ll probably have to buy a machete especially for border crossing.
El Salvador
I wanted to make it to Santa Ana the same day. That was not really realistic because I had a long breakfast with some guys I met up for the 4th time on this trip (first in Tulum, Then in Belize and in Tikal). So, I had to stop for a night before a border crossing. I needed all my strength for that enterprise. I did not how much of the strength I actually needed back than. So, I settle for a little dirty Guatemalan town called Jutiapa (Khootiapa). I found a cheap dirty hotel for same price I would’ve found a 3 star hotel in a touristier place. In any event, all I needed is just one night. So, I stayed and in return for bad service, couple of huge roaches in my room and a deficient in of water I shit a full toilet without flashing (there was no water) and took off. I hoped on the bus to Santa Ana, pleased with myself and was punished soon after. 
The border crossing… The last time I had to do it was in Belize and I as so overwhelmed with the complexity of it and gaining $30 let me think that I could pass through without paying the Guatemalan officials. I did, however, it was a mistake. El Salvadorian border police did not want to let me in. they said that I lack the entry stamp to Guatemala. I was outraged. First I played dump and said that it was not my fault that they did not give it to me, and then I pleaded for help. They did not care, I was told to go back to Belizean border or to Guatemala City to get the stamp and pay the penalty for illegal entry. I could not believe that I had to go back to Belizean border; that was 3 days away, and I hated Guatemala City, I hated them all. I went back to Guatemalan side and ask for help there, they could not help me. Then finally I’ve remembered whom I was dealing with. I showed the Guatemalan official the money and after some collaboration I finally got my stamp. It looked like I entered Guatemala on April 14, in fact, it was March 24. I also was told to go around and use another border crossing. That only took me additional 3 hours and I had to pass through Jutiapa. I made a big loop, entered El Salvador and when everything was normal I made another wrong move. I decided to change my quetzals to dollars (Salvadorian currency) with a moneychanger. Well, he obviously fucked me over on $18. I still can’t believe that. I could not get over the whole Salvadorian experience. They obviously did not want me there, no wonder, that nobody visits this country. Later I’ve realized that was a payback, from the government and from the moneychangers and the Jutiapa, or just simply, me being stupid. Whatever the cause, I paid for it all.
Santa Ana - San Salvador
Pretty. The outside of the neo gothic cathedral looked very nice. The theater was cute. I got inside for $0.50 got some really cool pictures. They had a Muppet show this Saturday but I decided to watch something else in San Salvador I heard that they a good theater there. Before that, I went to another cute little town called Sonsonate, where I got my Jesus sandals fixed up for 25 c and had a meal of rice and 2 pork roulettes, fried with eggs, some salad, 0.75 liter Tropicana and another regular bottle of Coke, all that for $2. Then I took off the same day to San Salvador. I got lost looking for the guest house mentioned in my guidebook. I was cruising in the western part of San Salvador in circles in yelling that it could not be that complicated. Nobody knew shit in that town. Finally, I got a pickup track dropped me off in front of the door of the guest house I thought did not even exist. In the excitement I forgot my guidebook in the truck but it was too late. I spent 3 days in that hotel. I was waiting for him to come back and return my book. I was listening to the cars passing by and watching out of the window like a fairy tail princess in the tower who is waiting for her prince to come and rescue her. He never showed up.
El Salvador, and particularly its capital seemed completely abandon by tourists. All the people I saw up until I got that hotel were Salvadorians. But there was a surprise. 22 Christians on a mission to help organize orphanages in El Salvador were in the hostel. Almost all were Americans. That was quite a culture shock. First I talked about god and Jesus to a sweet man who did not believe in American doctors, he was the owner of Santa Ana’s hotel, then these guys. There was one; his name was Brian, really smart one. We ended up talking about religion for hours. Then they took me to dinner to a Metro Center a huge mall in the center of San Salvador (the biggest in Central America) terrible picture. Anyway, Jesus fed me with an overpriced blue cheese burger in one of the American restaurants, and he even paid for it. I had another severe attack of diarrhea next morning. They also took me to a football game, when they were playing against a minor Salvadorian league. I refused to play. I still remember the pain from the time when I climbed down that damn volcano, the pain lasted 4 days, during which I could not bend my knees. The also invited me to the church the following Sunday. But instead I went with another Christian American. He was not with a group. He used to live in El Salvador during the civil war. So, he took his nephew and me to show the house he used live in Panchimalco. The house was destroyed by the earthquake, so he showed the remains and the view. It was spectacular. Later we went to the “Playa Conchalio” which on the Pacific coast. There was a beach with black volcanic sand.
The border crossing… The last time I had to do it was in Belize and I as so overwhelmed with the complexity of it and gaining $30 let me think that I could pass through without paying the Guatemalan officials. I did, however, it was a mistake. El Salvadorian border police did not want to let me in. they said that I lack the entry stamp to Guatemala. I was outraged. First I played dump and said that it was not my fault that they did not give it to me, and then I pleaded for help. They did not care, I was told to go back to Belizean border or to Guatemala City to get the stamp and pay the penalty for illegal entry. I could not believe that I had to go back to Belizean border; that was 3 days away, and I hated Guatemala City, I hated them all. I went back to Guatemalan side and ask for help there, they could not help me. Then finally I’ve remembered whom I was dealing with. I showed the Guatemalan official the money and after some collaboration I finally got my stamp. It looked like I entered Guatemala on April 14, in fact, it was March 24. I also was told to go around and use another border crossing. That only took me additional 3 hours and I had to pass through Jutiapa. I made a big loop, entered El Salvador and when everything was normal I made another wrong move. I decided to change my quetzals to dollars (Salvadorian currency) with a moneychanger. Well, he obviously fucked me over on $18. I still can’t believe that. I could not get over the whole Salvadorian experience. They obviously did not want me there, no wonder, that nobody visits this country. Later I’ve realized that was a payback, from the government and from the moneychangers and the Jutiapa, or just simply, me being stupid. Whatever the cause, I paid for it all.
Santa Ana - San Salvador
Pretty. The outside of the neo gothic cathedral looked very nice. The theater was cute. I got inside for $0.50 got some really cool pictures. They had a Muppet show this Saturday but I decided to watch something else in San Salvador I heard that they a good theater there. Before that, I went to another cute little town called Sonsonate, where I got my Jesus sandals fixed up for 25 c and had a meal of rice and 2 pork roulettes, fried with eggs, some salad, 0.75 liter Tropicana and another regular bottle of Coke, all that for $2. Then I took off the same day to San Salvador. I got lost looking for the guest house mentioned in my guidebook. I was cruising in the western part of San Salvador in circles in yelling that it could not be that complicated. Nobody knew shit in that town. Finally, I got a pickup track dropped me off in front of the door of the guest house I thought did not even exist. In the excitement I forgot my guidebook in the truck but it was too late. I spent 3 days in that hotel. I was waiting for him to come back and return my book. I was listening to the cars passing by and watching out of the window like a fairy tail princess in the tower who is waiting for her prince to come and rescue her. He never showed up.
El Salvador, and particularly its capital seemed completely abandon by tourists. All the people I saw up until I got that hotel were Salvadorians. But there was a surprise. 22 Christians on a mission to help organize orphanages in El Salvador were in the hostel. Almost all were Americans. That was quite a culture shock. First I talked about god and Jesus to a sweet man who did not believe in American doctors, he was the owner of Santa Ana’s hotel, then these guys. There was one; his name was Brian, really smart one. We ended up talking about religion for hours. Then they took me to dinner to a Metro Center a huge mall in the center of San Salvador (the biggest in Central America) terrible picture. Anyway, Jesus fed me with an overpriced blue cheese burger in one of the American restaurants, and he even paid for it. I had another severe attack of diarrhea next morning. They also took me to a football game, when they were playing against a minor Salvadorian league. I refused to play. I still remember the pain from the time when I climbed down that damn volcano, the pain lasted 4 days, during which I could not bend my knees. The also invited me to the church the following Sunday. But instead I went with another Christian American. He was not with a group. He used to live in El Salvador during the civil war. So, he took his nephew and me to show the house he used live in Panchimalco. The house was destroyed by the earthquake, so he showed the remains and the view. It was spectacular. Later we went to the “Playa Conchalio” which on the Pacific coast. There was a beach with black volcanic sand.
Guatemala
Border crossing, as I found out in this and all the other examples is not an easy task for me. I always have problems and I mean always. Belize to Guatemala border crossing is fairly straight forward, well for me it was not. As usually I forgot that there is a special fee to be paid (about $20) when leaving Belize. I found that I’m out cash when I was at the border town, and for some reason, none of the border towns have any banks or ATMs. So, I tried to negotiate with money changers. I wanted to get 17 B. $ for 5 euros, they only laughed at me. Then one of them offered me $5 for my sunglasses. My sunglasses, the only ones I have left, the ones I bought for $65! I got really mad; I told them that there are 2 professions which attract the lowest of all, and these are taxi drivers and moneychangers, in that order. But I after I met them, they became the first on that list. I went back and opened my emergency stack of cash. I gave the girl (who did not want to help me with anything because she was afraid to be fired) $100 bill +22 B $ (eleven American $). She gave me back 142 American dollars. I quickly left, thinking to myself that I just earned $30. And yes I did, however, what I did not know is that I had to pay it back, both to border officials and the moneychangers.
I took a bus to small village called El Remate. It was close to another Mayan site I wanted to see, the famous Tikal. I spent several nights on the tree bungalow in the jungles overlooking the lake. Sounds very romantic and it was, except for one little factor – I did not sleep for 2 nights I was there. Apparently the jungle monkeys and the proximity of 1001 village roosters give a concers every night without days off. It was terrible. I wanted to find a rooster and eat it, like I ate iguana, to at least satisfy my revenge. But nobody would fry a rooster for me; I had to settle for a chicken and a “Gallo” (pronounced gah-yo) which means rooster in Spanish. The amount of ads Gallo has in Guatemala made seem like the brand actual owns Gutaemala. To my surprise, as I found out later, it practically does. Well, it was a good beer anyways.
Tikal
I hitchhiked my way to Tikal (about 30 km) on a motorcycle, a pickup truck and my favorite on huge beer truck sitting on top of Gallo I entered Tikal reserve. Obviously I did not want to pay here too, so went to the jungle hoping to go around the entrance. Well I succeeded; the only problem was that, it is the biggest Mayan site known to man, so there was another guard checking the ticket. I played it dump and said that I lost the ticket, he sent me back… I don’t like going back, so I went back and went deeper in the jungle after an hour I found a footpath. I complemented myself on being so smart and went on, after another hour I was exhausted and was not sure where I was. Finally, I made it to a small complex of ruins and I could not believe my eyes. After another 30 min I at last found the main complex with pyramids. The site was humongous, I knew it was big, but man, that big. It seemed bigger than the Central Park. In fact it is 550 sq km!!! Only the center area is 16 sq km. Well it seems like the end of Tikal story but wait there is more. I climbed on some pyramids (without Coke, I probably would not be able to make it) and realized that was it. No sleep, bumpy rides, going trough the jungle and climbing on the pyramids completely warned me out. So went back, passed through the gate and I also changed my shirt so that the guard would not recognize me and you know what he did! He whistled back at me, a speeded it up. There was a track passing by so I climbed on it, then I saw a police car following this truck. Two main thoughts ran trough my mind: 1. what is prison like in Guatemala, probably not pretty and 2. How to say “penalty” in Spanish. Well, I successfully made it to the parking lot. I desperately wanted to get out but I could not there was another obstacle: they also were checking tickets on exit. That was too much for me, I went into the jungle again. Going around the check point through the forest took me another 45 min. I got on the road hoping to catch a ride. I got one soon after, when I was getting in the car the was a police truck pulling over and stopped right after the car which stopped to pick me up. I was terrified. The truck was following us for some time than went ahead, I was not sure if that was it or not. I was sitting in a car looking out of the window waiting for a SWAT team to arrive. Well, they did not, however, when we getting out the reserve there was another check point, where they were asking the tickets and the parking ticket, I pretended to be asleep, not very successfully however, but I made it. 45 min later I was at my village by the lake still looking behind my shoulder, waiting for the police to grab me. That was very stupid of my but I could not help it. Now I know what it is like to be on a run; couple of days like that and I would turn myself in.
Antigua
I was pretty tired and disappointed of that village so I decided to go to Antigua. Everybody told me that was a idiotic idea because I would not be able to get a room on “Semana Santa” (Holy Week). But I went anyways, and I was glad I did. It was Sunday morning I quickly found a room and wanted to go to bed because that night ride on a bus was pretty rough. I had bruises on my arms and hands in places where I was holding to my seat. So, instead I watched the procession, I did not know that there would be another 20 or more for the whole week. In any case Antigua was fun. I found myself an Antiguan family with 3 meals a day and a bed, plus a Spanish teacher for the next week, all for $120. I was really nice week. And when I just recovered, mentally and physically, I’ve decided to climb a volcano. It was one of the few active volcanoes in Central America; called “Pacaya”. Well, it was tiring but very rewording, when I saw the lava squirting from the top of the mountain I thought that we’d take pictures and go back (American way of thinking) but we kept on climbing. That was about 2 hours and 2.8 km uphill when my shoes began to melt and it began to be unbearably hot. I saw lava through the cracks under my feet. We still did not stop. I kept on thinking that something like that would never be allowed “in civilized” countries. But then again I saw people climbing steep stairs of Mayan pyramids with little babies and even infants. Not only they could’ve killed themselves but also there is a good chance of creating a “snow ball effect” and a lot of people cold get hurt. We only stopped when pieces of melted lava were falling down in front of us, this was when I saw a crazy lady cooking marsh melons with her kids on “open lava”. She gave me some to try, it was so unbelievable that I forgot to take a picture.
Lago de Atitlan
After my classes were done (did not make a lot of progress, oh well) I went to lake Atitlan, a very famous place in Guatemala. It is as everybody says, exceptionally beautiful. It is so beautiful, that the whites (gringos) pushed the very few remaining indigoes Mayan people from its shores up on its hills. The towns around the lake are occupied by mostly European descent people (some Americans too) who either own the hotels and the land or just live there. The true population had to settle themselves aside from the lake there their ancestors lived for centuries and only occasionally come to bath and wash their cloths in the lake. There was little or almost no interaction between the visitors and the village people. I went to San Marcos, a hippy-yoga-enlightened place for white crazies. I ran out of that place, the very next day, without even paying for my hotel. I went to San Pedro. The same was here but the whites were crazy in a different way, they were ganja-smoking mushroom-eating, psychogenic-full-moon-parting-rave-dancers, with a large portion (over 50%) of Israelis. Although it was cheap (15 quetzals=$2 for a night) I left next morning, hated the American girls who lived next door.
I took a bus to small village called El Remate. It was close to another Mayan site I wanted to see, the famous Tikal. I spent several nights on the tree bungalow in the jungles overlooking the lake. Sounds very romantic and it was, except for one little factor – I did not sleep for 2 nights I was there. Apparently the jungle monkeys and the proximity of 1001 village roosters give a concers every night without days off. It was terrible. I wanted to find a rooster and eat it, like I ate iguana, to at least satisfy my revenge. But nobody would fry a rooster for me; I had to settle for a chicken and a “Gallo” (pronounced gah-yo) which means rooster in Spanish. The amount of ads Gallo has in Guatemala made seem like the brand actual owns Gutaemala. To my surprise, as I found out later, it practically does. Well, it was a good beer anyways.
Tikal
I hitchhiked my way to Tikal (about 30 km) on a motorcycle, a pickup truck and my favorite on huge beer truck sitting on top of Gallo I entered Tikal reserve. Obviously I did not want to pay here too, so went to the jungle hoping to go around the entrance. Well I succeeded; the only problem was that, it is the biggest Mayan site known to man, so there was another guard checking the ticket. I played it dump and said that I lost the ticket, he sent me back… I don’t like going back, so I went back and went deeper in the jungle after an hour I found a footpath. I complemented myself on being so smart and went on, after another hour I was exhausted and was not sure where I was. Finally, I made it to a small complex of ruins and I could not believe my eyes. After another 30 min I at last found the main complex with pyramids. The site was humongous, I knew it was big, but man, that big. It seemed bigger than the Central Park. In fact it is 550 sq km!!! Only the center area is 16 sq km. Well it seems like the end of Tikal story but wait there is more. I climbed on some pyramids (without Coke, I probably would not be able to make it) and realized that was it. No sleep, bumpy rides, going trough the jungle and climbing on the pyramids completely warned me out. So went back, passed through the gate and I also changed my shirt so that the guard would not recognize me and you know what he did! He whistled back at me, a speeded it up. There was a track passing by so I climbed on it, then I saw a police car following this truck. Two main thoughts ran trough my mind: 1. what is prison like in Guatemala, probably not pretty and 2. How to say “penalty” in Spanish. Well, I successfully made it to the parking lot. I desperately wanted to get out but I could not there was another obstacle: they also were checking tickets on exit. That was too much for me, I went into the jungle again. Going around the check point through the forest took me another 45 min. I got on the road hoping to catch a ride. I got one soon after, when I was getting in the car the was a police truck pulling over and stopped right after the car which stopped to pick me up. I was terrified. The truck was following us for some time than went ahead, I was not sure if that was it or not. I was sitting in a car looking out of the window waiting for a SWAT team to arrive. Well, they did not, however, when we getting out the reserve there was another check point, where they were asking the tickets and the parking ticket, I pretended to be asleep, not very successfully however, but I made it. 45 min later I was at my village by the lake still looking behind my shoulder, waiting for the police to grab me. That was very stupid of my but I could not help it. Now I know what it is like to be on a run; couple of days like that and I would turn myself in.
Antigua
I was pretty tired and disappointed of that village so I decided to go to Antigua. Everybody told me that was a idiotic idea because I would not be able to get a room on “Semana Santa” (Holy Week). But I went anyways, and I was glad I did. It was Sunday morning I quickly found a room and wanted to go to bed because that night ride on a bus was pretty rough. I had bruises on my arms and hands in places where I was holding to my seat. So, instead I watched the procession, I did not know that there would be another 20 or more for the whole week. In any case Antigua was fun. I found myself an Antiguan family with 3 meals a day and a bed, plus a Spanish teacher for the next week, all for $120. I was really nice week. And when I just recovered, mentally and physically, I’ve decided to climb a volcano. It was one of the few active volcanoes in Central America; called “Pacaya”. Well, it was tiring but very rewording, when I saw the lava squirting from the top of the mountain I thought that we’d take pictures and go back (American way of thinking) but we kept on climbing. That was about 2 hours and 2.8 km uphill when my shoes began to melt and it began to be unbearably hot. I saw lava through the cracks under my feet. We still did not stop. I kept on thinking that something like that would never be allowed “in civilized” countries. But then again I saw people climbing steep stairs of Mayan pyramids with little babies and even infants. Not only they could’ve killed themselves but also there is a good chance of creating a “snow ball effect” and a lot of people cold get hurt. We only stopped when pieces of melted lava were falling down in front of us, this was when I saw a crazy lady cooking marsh melons with her kids on “open lava”. She gave me some to try, it was so unbelievable that I forgot to take a picture.
Lago de Atitlan
After my classes were done (did not make a lot of progress, oh well) I went to lake Atitlan, a very famous place in Guatemala. It is as everybody says, exceptionally beautiful. It is so beautiful, that the whites (gringos) pushed the very few remaining indigoes Mayan people from its shores up on its hills. The towns around the lake are occupied by mostly European descent people (some Americans too) who either own the hotels and the land or just live there. The true population had to settle themselves aside from the lake there their ancestors lived for centuries and only occasionally come to bath and wash their cloths in the lake. There was little or almost no interaction between the visitors and the village people. I went to San Marcos, a hippy-yoga-enlightened place for white crazies. I ran out of that place, the very next day, without even paying for my hotel. I went to San Pedro. The same was here but the whites were crazy in a different way, they were ganja-smoking mushroom-eating, psychogenic-full-moon-parting-rave-dancers, with a large portion (over 50%) of Israelis. Although it was cheap (15 quetzals=$2 for a night) I left next morning, hated the American girls who lived next door.
Belize
I have recently realized that I’m very much behind on my updates. Right now I’m in a 5th country already and my leather-bound journal contains detailed information up until the end of Belize. Guatemala and El Salvador adventures are missing not to mention that my internet blog has really “old” info. So, I’ve decided to skip a lot of details, at least for now, and give a “quick” update.
But lets start where I left off the last time. Belize City. The story about Dwight (church pianist) and one of the most paranoid nights I’ve had so far (or maybe in my entire life) will be hopefully told later.
Belize
From Belize City I left to Caye Calker. Spent several days there, nothing special, met couple girls. One of witch I later met in Antigua, and other two I met later, on beautiful Mayan site called Xunantunich. I met them when I was crawling through the rain forest surrounding the site, that way I avoided the entrance fee, but really jeopardized my health. Before that I visited a Belize Zoo, where a black jeopardy almost bitten off my fingers when I tried to put my camera in its mouth, pretty stupid huh? Then I ended up in San Ignacio, a really nice town on the border with Guatemala. This place has a particular significance to me, because this was the place where I was hunt and ate iguanas and their eggs; it was served with coconut rice, plantains, potatos and other vegetables I don’t know names for. That was the best dish I’ve had so far on my trip, it was more than delicious, probably not only because it was so good but also the preparation (you can watch the video of them being skinned, if you did not see it yet). Also, I kept 2 skins (we got 5 iguanas), hope to make a wallet one day.
But lets start where I left off the last time. Belize City. The story about Dwight (church pianist) and one of the most paranoid nights I’ve had so far (or maybe in my entire life) will be hopefully told later.
Belize
From Belize City I left to Caye Calker. Spent several days there, nothing special, met couple girls. One of witch I later met in Antigua, and other two I met later, on beautiful Mayan site called Xunantunich. I met them when I was crawling through the rain forest surrounding the site, that way I avoided the entrance fee, but really jeopardized my health. Before that I visited a Belize Zoo, where a black jeopardy almost bitten off my fingers when I tried to put my camera in its mouth, pretty stupid huh? Then I ended up in San Ignacio, a really nice town on the border with Guatemala. This place has a particular significance to me, because this was the place where I was hunt and ate iguanas and their eggs; it was served with coconut rice, plantains, potatos and other vegetables I don’t know names for. That was the best dish I’ve had so far on my trip, it was more than delicious, probably not only because it was so good but also the preparation (you can watch the video of them being skinned, if you did not see it yet). Also, I kept 2 skins (we got 5 iguanas), hope to make a wallet one day.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
from Mexico to Belize
Chetumal. 3 am sitting on a porch right between Mexico and Belize. A man came up to me and asked if I was waiting for a bus. I had to snap out of my semi-misery. I spent 150 pesos on a taxi from Chetumal to the border crossing.., which was stupid because, as I latter found out I could´ve taken a bus at 5am at the terminal where I arrived. Mental note: Don't cross borders in Latin America at night. Moreover, I did not have 150 pesos to pay the driver.., so we had to go back for an ATM in Mexico.., oh well, as I later found out - border crossing is the most tiring and stressful thing for me, and often costly.
That man stopped a pickup truck and we were drooped off at Corozal. That was my first but definitely not the last time when I was in a back of a pickup truck passing through pitch black Belize. However, this time was the first and the memory of this is fresher than the ride I took today in Guatemala.
I stopped thinking about that 150 pesos and the amount of mistakes I managed to make within just a couple of days. Just enjoyed the ride. I took a morning bus from Corozal to Belize City. I met a very interesting young lady named Sheena. We talked through 2-3 hour ride, waking everybody on the bus. When we arrived there was her boyfriend waiting for her. At least I have a picture of a very tired me with my Belizian "friend"
You have to understand the situation. I´m sitting in a local bar in the city which is famous for its highest crime rate in Central America. And here Í am, asking a drunk 17 year old to, as he precisely put it, "be a waitress". For a second there I thought that the 2 of them would just kill me right on the spot, and the rest of the "crew" would joint them in excitement.
I don't remember exactly how I´ve managed to explain myself (it is my luck that Belizians speak English). Their anger had transformed into curiosity and later respect. After a small chat and couple of beers (on me) we became good friends. I mean it. Good friends to a point that, if anybody were to harm me in Beleze City, Rudy (that was his name) and his uncle would just just kill the offender/s
Sweet boy. Probably will end up like most people in Belize City, using and selling drugs... Which leads me to another story in Beleze. A story about a church pianist (who also leads morning worship service) who loves god, his wife and son and a good "hydra" joint.
To be continued...
That man stopped a pickup truck and we were drooped off at Corozal. That was my first but definitely not the last time when I was in a back of a pickup truck passing through pitch black Belize. However, this time was the first and the memory of this is fresher than the ride I took today in Guatemala.
I stopped thinking about that 150 pesos and the amount of mistakes I managed to make within just a couple of days. Just enjoyed the ride. I took a morning bus from Corozal to Belize City. I met a very interesting young lady named Sheena. We talked through 2-3 hour ride, waking everybody on the bus. When we arrived there was her boyfriend waiting for her. At least I have a picture of a very tired me with my Belizian "friend"
* * *
When I was writing this in my journal there was a fight in the bar I was sitting in. Apparently, there was a fight in every Belizian bar every so often. So, naturally, the time has come for that bar as well. Suddenly every body got very loud (even louder than they were, hard to imagine) and got up from their chairs. Two boys who were sitting at my table got up as well, one of them spilled his beer on the table and my journal. After they have satisfied their curiosity and sat back, I´ve asked one of them to clean up the mess he had created.You have to understand the situation. I´m sitting in a local bar in the city which is famous for its highest crime rate in Central America. And here Í am, asking a drunk 17 year old to, as he precisely put it, "be a waitress". For a second there I thought that the 2 of them would just kill me right on the spot, and the rest of the "crew" would joint them in excitement.
I don't remember exactly how I´ve managed to explain myself (it is my luck that Belizians speak English). Their anger had transformed into curiosity and later respect. After a small chat and couple of beers (on me) we became good friends. I mean it. Good friends to a point that, if anybody were to harm me in Beleze City, Rudy (that was his name) and his uncle would just just kill the offender/s
Sweet boy. Probably will end up like most people in Belize City, using and selling drugs... Which leads me to another story in Beleze. A story about a church pianist (who also leads morning worship service) who loves god, his wife and son and a good "hydra" joint.
To be continued...
Friday, April 6, 2007
The beginning
Never had a journal or a blog, so this will be a little difficult for me.. I have decided to write in English. First off all, because I can no longer hand write Russian letters in my leather bound travel journal. Second, it seems sometimes easier to express my thoughts while writing in English, however, it does require lot of editing and correction in the future. An the last but not least reason, it is virtually impossible to write in Russian in Internet cafes of Latin America.
So here we go:
Things happen along the way, fun stuff, sad stuff. Stories tend to layer one on top of the other. The experience is so rich that I get angry out the fact that it is almost impossible to deliver using words or any other way (media) of communication known to me. So, I´ll stick with words.
March 24. Belize City, Belize.
Belize City is a scary place according to my guide book and the people I met so far. The most common description that it is a shitty town, and looks like any other Asian dirty town. With one exception, the crime level is very high. I would not have end up here, if not my desire to pass through all the countries in Central America. Belize is a first one along the way. The guide boo, however, suggests that city is worth visiting during the day time.
Well, here I am sitting in a very, what I understand Caribbean environment. A local bar with loud Jamaican music and even louder people. My waitress, a Mexican Chinese looking Belizian, is very curious of me and my writing. Curiosity is, I think, a keyword here in Belize, and also my reasoning for most situations which occurred later.
The beginning of my journey to Belize originated in Mexico, down south of Cancun, a little place called Tulum. This was a very nice experience except for the fact that my stupidity and careless led to a small tragedy. Which is
some of my electronics got into salty water (Atlantic Ocean). I was very afraid for my camera. This is the single most important piece of equipment I own. It provides me (and all the others) with vivid reminders of the places and people. Also this is the ultimate proof of my journey.
It was my luck that my not thinking ahead did not destroy my colorful “memory collector”. However, the cell phone is dead. The phone was not only communication device to me but also a watch, an alarm clock, mp3 player, Spanish translator, compass and 8 hours of Spanish lessons.., all gone. This upset me a lot at first but some time later I thought, what the hell, maybe there “destiny”, “things happen for a reason” kinda thing... I also lost my sunglasses, I liked the a lot. This all happened in what I call “Mayan Trail”. The trail trough the ocean by the cliff. The guy I met at the hostel and I went to the Tulum Ruin and after that we decided to go to the beach around the main road, through the ocean, like Mayas used to do, or like Jesus. Well I paid for this a great deal...
So here we go:
Things happen along the way, fun stuff, sad stuff. Stories tend to layer one on top of the other. The experience is so rich that I get angry out the fact that it is almost impossible to deliver using words or any other way (media) of communication known to me. So, I´ll stick with words.
March 24. Belize City, Belize.
Belize City is a scary place according to my guide book and the people I met so far. The most common description that it is a shitty town, and looks like any other Asian dirty town. With one exception, the crime level is very high. I would not have end up here, if not my desire to pass through all the countries in Central America. Belize is a first one along the way. The guide boo, however, suggests that city is worth visiting during the day time.
Well, here I am sitting in a very, what I understand Caribbean environment. A local bar with loud Jamaican music and even louder people. My waitress, a Mexican Chinese looking Belizian, is very curious of me and my writing. Curiosity is, I think, a keyword here in Belize, and also my reasoning for most situations which occurred later.
The beginning of my journey to Belize originated in Mexico, down south of Cancun, a little place called Tulum. This was a very nice experience except for the fact that my stupidity and careless led to a small tragedy. Which is
some of my electronics got into salty water (Atlantic Ocean). I was very afraid for my camera. This is the single most important piece of equipment I own. It provides me (and all the others) with vivid reminders of the places and people. Also this is the ultimate proof of my journey.It was my luck that my not thinking ahead did not destroy my colorful “memory collector”. However, the cell phone is dead. The phone was not only communication device to me but also a watch, an alarm clock, mp3 player, Spanish translator, compass and 8 hours of Spanish lessons.., all gone. This upset me a lot at first but some time later I thought, what the hell, maybe there “destiny”, “things happen for a reason” kinda thing... I also lost my sunglasses, I liked the a lot. This all happened in what I call “Mayan Trail”. The trail trough the ocean by the cliff. The guy I met at the hostel and I went to the Tulum Ruin and after that we decided to go to the beach around the main road, through the ocean, like Mayas used to do, or like Jesus. Well I paid for this a great deal...
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