What a day yesterday.

At our Friday dinner with La Escuela it was decided that we would take a trip to the beach on Sunday. So the bus came round to everyones houses at around 7am and we were off to a little private beach resort where the director of the school Flory knew the owner. First stop just outside of town we stopped for a cup of coffee to help with the waking process. Everyone was still feeling a bit out of sorts from our post dinner birthday celebration for one of the students. But that's another story.

So we've begun the descent from 3000 Meters in Xela down to the coast where a beautiful day awaits us, filled with sunshine, swimming and some breakfast. We're about 45 minutes into the trip when we pull around a corner to two big surprises...

"Look! Look! The volcano is erupting!" shouted one of the passengers.

I was one of the people in the van looking out the opposite window at a man in a red bandana with a shotgun pointing at the car stopped, going the other direction. At first I thought it was the police and then soon realized that this was definitely not some police checkpoint. The volcano could wait.

One man was standing in front of the car wearing what looked like a bandana around his face, but upon further inspection was just his T-Shirt. The other bandido was at the car with a giant pistol shoved in the window of the passenger side. None of the people in our van who were watching the robbery on the left wanted to say anything, and the others were too busy watching the plumes of smoke erupt from the mountain on our right. We were waved through by the shirtless man with one hand while he steadied the shotgun in his other. We continued through the crime scene and as we passed the robbers ran off into the jungle with their loot. When we had gotten a safe distance away, our driver stopped the van infront of a little fruit market. Those who didn't see the bandits were now well aware of what had happened while they had eyes fixed on the active volcano. We were all a little shook up and hesitant to get out of the car to snap some photos of the smoke rising up from the gray mountain.

After pictures were taken, we all got back into the van and swapped stories of what we had just witnessed, all in the space of 5 minutes. Some people don't see either of those things in their entire lives and here we saw it all in what seemed like as long as a commercial break. Wow.

The rest of the drive was without incident and we had let it slip to the back of our minds while we spend the day swimming in the ocean, playing football with a coconut and eating fresh fish and chicken. When we all got back in the van, the conversations returned to the armed, masked men we witnessed at 7:30 that morning. We were all well aware of the fact that we would be travelling through the same pass, though this time it would be dark and we would be far more susceptible to an attack. Flory, the director of the school had phone to report the incident though, and when she did asked for the police to follow us back to Xela. We pulled up to the designated meeting point and the cops waved us through and then tailed us the whole way, switching cars three times along the route. It was actually executed fairly well as one car would flash its lights, the other would pick up where they left off. We arrived safely back into Xela with white knuckles slowly returning to their original colour and stories we all couldn't wait to share with friends around the world.

So that was our Sunday in GUatemala, a little un-nerving considering it's the same road we'll be leaving on in a week. But, don't worry I know we'll be fine. I was extremely impressed with how well the whole situation was handled by our driver and the Flory, so we're in good hands. I just wish we had a faster car. Ha.

More later...

This is taken from a note I wrote on Facebook, there was a bit of dialogue after I posted the note which I included to explain myself and where I stand. I know it's a bit off topic but in my mind a very important topic that deserves some attention



Read this Article, then read this Diatribe....

So let me get this straight. Companies that crushed (literally) the electric car, continued to make Hummers, SUV's and other gas guzzling, inefficient status symbols are asking the government for $25 Billion of tax payers money because they are "Struggling Automakers". It's hard for me to swallow that the CEO's of these companies are really "struggling". Let's take a look at the CEO's of the companies that are pushing the proposed bail-out shall we..

• Richard Wagner Jr. CEO of General Motors

Annual Salary in 2007 - $5,000,000


• Robert Nardelli CEO of Chrysler Corp.

"Nardelli brings with him a history of extravagant pay packages and a golden parachute worth $210 million"


• Alan Mulally CEO of Ford

"received compensation valued at $39.1 million during his four months on the job last year, according to an analysis of a federal regulatory filing made Thursday."

Matty Powell wrote at 10:48pm Point taken. I agree it's important to realize one's own contributions to the degradation of the environment. But, my decision to drive the country in an old van was in fact made as a positive step to decrease my environmental footprint. I left a house I didn't own; one filled with Petro-Chemical products and fueled by Natural Gas 7- 8 months out of the year in a VW Van. This van was manufactured in a country that's "share of electricity from renewable energy has increased from 6.3 percent in 2000 to over 14 percent in 2007. More than 9 billion euros (US$11.31 billion) was invested in new renewable energy installations in Germany in 2006. Some 240,000 people in Germany were employed in the renewable energy sector in 2006, especially in small and medium sized companies. Over half of these jobs are attributed to the Renewable Energy Sources Act." My van is also my house -retrofitted with a solar panel for our power needs- and we have and will be living in it while I volunteer building sustainable houses made from recycled materials in Nicaragua, after we're done Spanish School in Guatemala. This in my mind is a less impact than planes and hotels. No one is perfect, but you do the best you can with what your given. I don't think that U.S. Auto Manufacturers have done the best they can with what they've been given; many opportunities to move in a direction that is more "green" and sustainable. So, in my mind the bailout is unjust, unfair and a waste of taxpayers money that could go into better, greener projects for future generations. Not only that but it will set a precedent for all failing corporations to follow suite; a move that in my opinion will slowly lead to nationalization of many major institutions (Banks, Auto Manufacturers, Etc..). Basically to me, it's like feeding your gambling addicted grandmother with quarters instead of a phone number for help.

Coffee. It's been a part of my morning ritual for quite some time now, usually the first task of the day. In every city I've lived finding the good coffee shop nearby is on of the first steps to integration. It was an easy pick in Saskatoon, The Roastery is some what of a Saskatoon institution. A place where you meet friends, swap stories of the night before and spend time making music and making the world a better place through conversation. My favourite blend of coffee at the Roastery was the Guatemalan Fair Trade Organic. It would brighten my day when I looked at the specials board to be greeted by it's name. So needless to say, I was pretty excited to visit the birthplace of such a fine bean. In my naivety I thought that great coffee would be as easy to find in Guatemala as snow in Saskatchewan in the winter. Boy, was I wrong.

After a few days being around Guatemala you soon realize that the majority of what's being served as coffee is in fact the instant variety. The majority of which is Nescafe. Why at the heart of Coffee Country would they drink such an imbominaton as instant coffee. Surely they must realize how much it pales in comparison to the real thing, freshly roasted, ground and served steaming hot. Why you could probably drive for twenty minutes and be in the very field that The Roastery gets it's coffee beans from. Why in every restaurant and household would they resort to supporting a multinational company like Nestle to fulfill their coffee needs. I'll tell you why.

It's too expensive for Guatemalans to drink their own coffee. What they grow is for export only, solely to supply the Starbucks & Roasteries of the world. The sweat and hard labour of these people is getting flown away to find markets elsewhere, profits they're not likely to see. Sure there are a few places around town that serve up a great cup of coffee, but they are hard to find. Not like walking down the streets of Vancouver or Seattle where Starbucks surround you like a bad dream. I just want everyone to think about that a little when they have their cup of morning coffee. I'm not saying to feel guilty, not at all. Just make intelligent and compassionate consumer desicions and take a moment with your coffee in the morning and think of the many people who worked long and hard to get it into your cup on that frosty morning. The people I'm sharing the roads and streets with today, the people that are teaching me spanish and the people that make Freja and Eir smile and giggle daily. Just think of them.

Other than my coffee diatribe we had a lovely weekend. I played my little show on Friday to a very receptive audience mad up of mostly people from La Escuela. Went to the market on Saturday and got some grocery shopping done. It's quite the affair to go into the Mercado with two babies in tow. I'll get some photo's next time we go so you can see the craziness in action. It's crazy, but there is some sort of unsaid way about the Chaos. It's almost as if because no one is following the rules it works. Like if you're driving and try and follow the rules you're more likely to get into an accident than if you give into the anarchy of it all. Sunday we went to a beautiful hotspring called "Fuentes Georgina" you can see pictures here.

That's it, time to make some lunch for these girls and go to school where there is a decent cup of coffee. Adios Mi Amigos.

Matty P.

Xela, Guatemala sits at an altitude of 2,333 Meters above sea level. According to the professionals "Acute mountain sickness is common at any altitude above 2,500 Meters", while other professionals say "It's common to get tipsy from two or three beers". Which is perfect because then I have two excuses for telling the crowd at my show last night that I "want" two daughters. I was introducing my song, Freja Grace and thought I'd be clever and try and speak a little Spanish. Great idea after a week of Spanish school. What I intended to say was "Yo Tengo Dos Hijas", translated as "I have two daughters". Instead I mumbled "Yo Quiero dos Hijas", and after a few snickers and giggles I was very glad that there was still 3 more weeks of school left. Until then I'll leave my witty stage banter to Hola, Xela.

Anyways it was a nice little French restaurant that I played in aptly titled "Royal Paris". The woman that we're staying with knew the guy who played there frequently and basically set the gig up, his name was Fernando. He played a set, I played a set, then he went on once more and I closed off with a couple tunes. It was fun. I got some dinner and a couple beers for playing, and the small crowd made up of students from School, our home stay family and a couple tables out for dinner all seemed to enjoy themselves and left smiling. I'm not sure if the smiles were for my broken Spanish or the music but either way I'll take it. Fernando could find his way around the classical, nylon string guitar effortlessly and played a wide variety of Latin American folk songs along with a few of his own compositions. It was a pleasure to watch, I'll definitely go back and he mentioned maybe doing it again in a week or so.

Today was a lazy day, Shona got off to school in the morning and the girls and I watched some Spanish cartoons and ate breakfast. Watching Curious George -or should I say Jorge el Curiouso- is actually helping with my Spanish if you can believe it. Eir had a little nap and I dug my way out of the mountain of Vocabulary and Irregular verb homework. Shona got back from school and I headed out the door, in what has kind of become the tag team ritual. There was a trip with the school in the afternoon, and luckily my teacher let me take the hour off to tag along. It was a bus tour around Xela, with a tour guide telling stories about the history of all the buildings we passed. Xela has an odd gothic feel to it, not common for Central American countries. From what I understand, when the Spanish left, the Germans came in and had a major impact on the Baroque style architecture here. The tour finished off with a trip to a local Chocolate shop where we were shown first hand the Cacao process from start to finish. Another one of those little things in life rarely thought about; I know I never thought of Mayans when I bit into a Mars bar. I didn't realize that the conception of all chocolate basically originated from Central America, primarily in Guatemala and Mexico. I guess it's a very picky plant that knows where it likes to fruit. More than I can say for myself. Ha.

Anyways during the demonstrations we were given a cup of hot chocolate right from the source. I have no problems with saying that it was and probably always will be the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted. No seriously, it was mind bogglingly good. After the Chocolatier we got back on the bus and I headed back for the rest of my lesson. It was a hard return to conjugating irregular verbs after being in chocolate heaven but I managed.

So tomorrow evening I have another show at this really great place run by an Ex-Pat from Spain and his Australian girlfriend. The whole school is coming to the restaurant for their Friday dinner so I'll at least have a few English speakers in the crowd to save more embarrassment. Hopefully we'll get some photos and post them up for all to see.

Off to bed, Buenos Noche...

November 11th, Remembrance Day

Well, I believe this is my first Remembrance Day that I didn’t see a poppy. Nor did I hear the poem Flanders Fields, no cadets in uniform and no moment of silence. No, this day was spent in Xela, Guatemala, a country with it’s own history of wars; from ancient wars in which the K’iche met Spanish Conquistadors with a spirited resistance to their empirical aspirations to the more recent civil wars of the 60’s and ’70’s. It’s been a rocky road for Guatemala and I’m sure that more of the people we’re living amongst now have been directly (or continue to be) directly affected by war. It doesn’t stop the toothy grins as I stroll down the street with Eir in the sling and Freja holding my free hand. I would hazard a guess I may be the only man they’ve ever seen wearing a bastardized version of their beautiful, hand woven baby wraps. The Mayan culture is definitely making a hasty comeback in Guatemala; markets are filled with women in traditional dress selling traditional food and clothes. It’s nice to see. We’re definitely outsiders here and the looks and stares the girls get are quite amusing. It’s difficult to get by anyone without them touching the girls on the head or squeezing their cheeks. It’s flattering I must admit, and definitely serves as a good icebreaker for sometimes-difficult conversation. The markets on the streets are filled with all sorts of vendors, from knock-off shoes to roasted corn and fruit salad in plastic bags. Speaking of plastic bags, most of the shops where you get pop or juice here will empty your drink into a tiny plastic bag with a straw, to ensure they get their bottle return money. I must admit I felt a little strange walking down the street with a plastic bag full of pop. You get used to it though. School is going great, albeit difficult. After 5 hours of Spanish your brain kind of turns to mush and I have trouble speaking to anyone after school for at least an hour. The first weekend in Xela was good, we had dinner with all the students and teachers on Friday at a restaurant downtown and a few of us went out to have some beers after. I came home, helped Shona put the girls to bed and went to meet up with them. On Saturday night I had the pleasure of attending a Xela football (soccer) match at the town stadium. There was bunch of students, along with the director Flory that went to the game. It was great. We got there really early and 3 of us decided to go and have a bite to eat and a beer. We ended up at a restaurant called “Super Chivos” which was in fact the clubhouse for the Xela team, “The Super Chivos”. Anthony (Another Student) and I had bought some cheap jerseys and we were greeted with applause as the “Gringos” came in with jerseys on. One of the other fans actually bought us beer and we happily ate and chatted away until realizing that the game was starting in 5 minutes. We booked it back to the stadium and made it just in time for the fanfare of fireworks, cheering and music from the many impromptu bands around the stadium seats. It was a great game, not only for the play but also for the enthusiasm of the fans, even after the 2 - 2 tie. Most of us went out for a beer after the game and I actually ended up playing at a little bar not that far from the stadium. It was fun, and after finally getting off stage it was pretty much time to go home.

I’ve got two more gigs this week, one at a Bar/Restaurant called Royal Paris and the other at a really cool bar called Ojala. The woman that we’re staying with Barbara knows a lot of people around Xela and within 2 phone calls -both with me speaking broken English- I had 2 gigs. Not bad for only a week I guess.

Anyways, Me Gusta Xela and though school is difficult, it’s very interesting learning a new language and culture. My Spanish is getting better day by day and Freja has been speaking a little here and there, even without our encouragement. Pretty neat.

Now that we have Internet it should be a little easier to write in the blog and upload some pictures, so stay tuned. Adios, mi amigos.

November 6th.

We’ve made it to Guatemala, finally. We arrived on November 4th at around 6pm, and went straight to the school “La Democracia” to get set up with our family and have a well-needed rest. If you’re the perceptive type, you may be wondering why we arrived in Guatemala on November 4th when the last message was on November 2nd saying goodbye to Mexico. Well let me explain.

We left Arrigia fairly early in the morning, not having to repack the van was quite helpful in speeding up the morning rituals, and after a couple showers (cold) and dressing the babies we were off. We stopped to get gas, a couple tacos from a roadside stand and we hit the road towards Tapachula, where we planned to do our border crossing into Guatemala. It was a fairly simple drive, some good roads, and some bad, still a lot of speed bumps. As we were approaching Tapachula, around 70km outside of the town, about 5 guys wearing very unofficial badges waved us down. In broken English they tried to explain that we needed to take one of them to the border in Guatemala to help with our crossing. We were warned about these helpers in a few of our books, which said to pick one and let them guide you through the border crossing process. We had planned on picking one, but there was know way we were going to cram him into the van for 70km, when we were quite certain there would be plenty more at the border. We weren’t disappointed, well actually we were but more on that in a bit.

So we pull into Tapachula where we had decided to do a few last minute things before crossing into Guatemala. We needed to stop at a bank to take out some cash for the border crossing and hopefully get some Quetzales (Guatemalan currency). We got lost in the city, and decided to just get some money when we entered Guatemala. Our first bad idea. So we filled up with gas and headed toward the small border town of Talisman, about 11km’s away. As we approached the border there were more kids with badges telling us to stop, we had learned our lesson and kept on driving. Finally one guy approached the van and looked fairly honest, so I told him to hop on the back and we’d go to the border. We had our helper, sort of. Anyways, we pulled up to the border and the van was surrounded by at least 15 guys, all trying to help in some way. There were guys trying to sell us Quetzales, guys trying to tell us where to go, it was extremely confusing. Especially between the broken English and Spanish. I finally got out of the van and went to the “Aduana” (immigration) with our passports, the temporary vehicle permit and our Mexican tourist visas. First stop was to hand in our tourist visas and get the Mexican Exit stamp. The guy doing that job only took my passport and visa and gave the passport a stamp and on I went. Now to try and find where I could cancel our vehicle permit, necessary to do if you want to enter Mexico with any vehicle ever again. No one seemed to know what to do with it. Until finally I talked to one lady and she said that I needed to back into town and find the Banjercito to cancel it. She explained the directions in Spanish and drew me a very basic map. Keep track everyone, this is map #1. So after shooing everyone away from the van we headed back to Tapachula to find the Banjercito. Within 30 minutes we were lost and stopped at a little convenience store to get our bearing and ask for more directions. The girls were also starving at this point; stupid us spent all our Pesos because we thought we wouldn’t need them. We scrounged up enough for a bag of chips and Shona went to talk to one of the cab drivers for directions. This is where we secured Map # 2.

After about 10 minutes of map drawing and conversation we were on our way once again. Six sets of lights, a right turn at an Italian coffee house, two more sets of lights and we were there. After about the 7th set of lights and no coffee house, we were lost in the midst of downtown Tapachula again. It was getting later in the afternoon, the sun was beating down and I was nearing the end of my Mexican driving rope. We took a few more turns and found a bank by chance, yes. Parking in the lot of an OXXO (Mexican equivalent of 7 Eleven, I got out of the van, ran into the OXXO tried to buy something to validate my parking in their lot, they didn’t take cards and I said I’d go to the bank and come back. With my parking space justified with a valid excuse, I ran across the busy narrow street to Bank # 1. Now I’ve spent many an hour of my life waiting in line-ups, but upon entering this bank I soon realized what it was like for my Mum to camp overnight for Rod Stewart tickets in the 80’s. Wow. My patience lasted all of 10 minutes without moving and I was running across the street to another bank. This one was a little more promising, no line-ups, friendly looking tellers; we may make it to Guatemala after all. I waited my turn, got called up to the teller and proudly held my vehicle import papers aloft. This gesture was greeted by one similar to that which I’m certain future inhabitants of this planet will have when they come across an automatic paper towel dispenser, I hope for their sake they don’t try and change the roll as it may decrease evolution 10 fold. Anyways I was in the wrong bank, it was specifically a Banjercito that needed to cancel these papers. Great. By this point it was 2:30pm and looking very doubtful that we would make it across the border. But for some reason, out of some deep-seated need for more humiliation and frustration, I asked for Map #3.

“Derecho, Derecho, Derecho!” Said the woman behind the counter while pointing her hand right. Now the funny thing about Spanish is that “Derecho” not only means straight, but right as well. I got from the hand gestures that she meant straight and off we went again, to first try and back out of our space onto a busy street, and then find this Banjercito that seemed more elusive than the Quetzal itself. We went straight, and straight and straight and we were about to throw in the towel when alas on our right a sign... BANJERCITO! Our hearts leapt with joy, our tired eyes awoke and we jumped out of the van, unpacked the girls and started to lock up when were approached by a security guard...

“Ustedes Usar Cajero Automatico?”

No we need to go into the bank and cancel this, and once again I held the stupid piece of paper up. The guard then proceeded to tell us that this branch closes at 3:00pm; it was now about 5 minutes after three. Here’s where I lost the plot. One more time, is there anywhere to get rid of this damn piece of paper. He gave us directions to one more bank and we started driving to it when we passed a Comfort Inn. It was about 3 minutes away from the bank; if I kept driving I don’t necessarily think that I would be here to write this. We pulled a U-Turn and checked in for the night. Internet, Pizza for dinner, a good rest followed by a continental breakfast then the Bank in the morning. If all went according to planned we could be in Xela by noon.

Which brings me to Map # 4. I left Shona and Eir at breakfast and took Freja for a walk to the Banjercito to finally cancel this stupid vehicle permit. I walked into the bank, there was no line-up and I went straight to the teller and handed over the blue piece of paper that has been the thorn in our side for the last 24 hours. You can imagine how much my heart sank when the lady behind the till said I needed to go to the Aduana Banjercito, just outside of town. Seriously, I think we had wasted a tank of gas by this point, both Shona and I had increased the amount of grey hairs on our head by 100% and we’d spent the last evening sleeping in a hotel across from the wrong bank. So Map #4 comes out. I brought the offending hand drawn illustration of Tapachula back to Shona and we packed up the van in a hurry, anticipating that we’d get lost again and headed off. I dropped the keys of and for one more clarification asked the hotel desk clerk where the Banjercito was. AHA! A real map with a highlighted route was handed to me. Yes! There was no way to fail this time. Full of confidence and zeal we headed towards the outskirts of town. A few wrong turns, and a couple close calls and we made it. It pains me to mention that we passed it the day before on our way into Tapachula. But water under the bridge I guess, or the many bridges that were scribbled onto scrap pieces of paper for us.

So it was one quick swoop, the permit was canceled, the agent took the sticker off our car and we were free from Mexico’s grasp. Almost. We hightailed it to a bank to change some money and headed for the border once again. Not ready to deal with the onslaught of “Helpers” that were about to bombard our vehicle; I took the first guy that approached the vehicle. Mistake. He jumped on the back and we were ready to cross the border.

First stop, getting our passports stamped. He whisked me out of the van and went to immigration. 30 Quetzales and we were all stamped and allowed to be in Guatemala for 90 days. Next stop, getting photocopies of our documents. I tried to tell him that I already had photocopies but he insisted to go over to this little shop and get it done. That is when alarm bells started going off. By this point I had an entourage of at least 9 guys following me around and I must say it was a little worrying. One person was trying to sell me Quetzales (the local currency), one was just asking for money and the others were just watching and occasionally laughing. My guard was up at this point and I just wanted to our documents back, get back to the van and continue the process. Our “Helper” told me that we would need to give him 650 Quetzales to import the vehicle in Guatemala. I insisted on going up to the office with him and getting receipts for all transactions. You could tell he was getting a little upset about this and would leave and come back 5 or 6 times while we were waiting in line to get our car fumigated, every time with a different friend wearing a fake uniform and insisting that we pay the 650 Quetzales. We had looked in a few of our books and in all of them it said that we should only have to pay 40 Quetzales for importing the vehicle. Then we saw a sign, which read something like... “All Immigration processes are free, don’t promote corruption”. Then I started to get really pissed off. It’s extremely hot in the van, the girls are sitting in a pool of sweat, we’re all hungry and this guy is trying to rip me off. I got out of the car myself, paid for the fumigation and went to the tourist information followed by 2 different helpers. The first guy had obviously realized I was pissed and pawned his friend off on me. Got the receipt to pay the bank for our permit, went to the bank and paid for the permit, all the while still being followed around. I gave the two guys 5 Quetzales each ($0.15) and basically told them to get lost. The one whose friend was initially helping us was demanding the $5 originally promised to his buddy. I basically told him to screw off and he listened.

We got our permit, sticker on the window and drove into Guatemala. It was about 2:30pm by this point and I was a little worried about driving at night. First stop we made was a gas station, filled up and went off. Now, if I thought Mexican roads were bad, I was wrong. Not only were there tons of potholes strewn about the road, the highway from the border to Xela must climb at least 4000 meters into the mountains. When I say climb I mean climb. We were basically stuck in 1st gear the whole way. I stalled once and got stuck in a pothole right after a blind corner. Scary. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the pleasure of rolling backwards in a stalled VW down a blind corner with no guardrails and a 2500m-drop, but I wouldn’t recommend it. We got the van going and continued on. The first big town we would drive through was called San Marcos. It was here that we would notice something funny with the van. Upon coming to our first stop in the city, the van stalled. And every subsequent time we would rev low or I would be in Neutral the van would stall. Basically it was acting as if it was out of gas. Bad news. That usually means you got some bad gas in their, and their isn’t much unleaded gas in Guatemala. So we deduced that it must of been the gas we got near the Guatemalan border. Not only that but we were lost in San Marcos, having missed a turn for Xela somewhere along the way. I unknowingly made a wrong turn down a one-way street and we found ourselves, stalled parked halfway into the road on a one-way street. Yikes. We asked someone where the road to Xela was and got haphazard directions. A friendly passerby helped us back out of the one way into a busy intersection and after a few stalls, we were going blindly down a narrow street, trying desperately to keep the van revved high so we wouldn’t stall. Not an easy task when there are pedestrians jumping in front of you and cars blaring horns everywhere down a street obviously built for horses and pedestrians and not VW vans. So we went with our gut instincts and finally found the road to Xela. It was getting late and I definitely didn’t want to get stuck on these roads at night. More crazy roads, an hour and a half later and we made it to our home for a month. We were warmly greeted by our host at the school Flory, had some food and were taken to meet our host family. We are staying with a lovely Woman named Barbera, her mother and her daughter. We have 2 rooms at our disposal and the house is great. The school is great, I am in fact writing this from the downstairs lobby of the school while Shona is in class number three. The way it’s going to work for us here is that Shona is in class from 8am - 1pm and I watch the girls. My classes are from 2pm - 7pm and then I go home for dinner. So far so good. It’s nice to be able to spend some time with the girls and this is day #3 of Spanish school for both of us. It’s tough, but really nice to get the brain going. I should be off; the girls are terrorizing the place and are most likely needing a nap. We should be getting wireless in our home stay house in the next few days, so keeping in contact should be easier for the month or so that we’re here.

I finished this blog a day after I started it, so as it stands, it’s now November 7th. hope you’re all well, wherever you are. Much love from all of us.

October 31st, 2008

Well, I’m not going to be able to upload this blog until we find an internet connection, but that doesn’t mean I can’t write it. We had a lovely morning in Melaque, though we probably could have used the extra hours we spent chatting to our wonderful neighbours on the road. It was nice to get a chance to talk to some fellow Canadians, and they were generous enough to give us a bit of hose to help with our water siphoning. So if you are reading this guys, thanks a lot. We had breakfast at the place we were recommended for dinner, Senor Froy’s. The food was fantastic and the owner was great, his wife played with Eir the whole time we were at the restaurant, both enjoying each others company equally I think. Heuvos Rancheros, Pancakes and a bacon omelette, all very tasty and I would highly recommend a visit if you ever find yourself nearby. So we got a late start to our day of driving, which would wind us up doing a little Mexican night driving which does not come highly recommended. These roads were intense, if you wanted proof all you needed to do was look at all the skid marks in the pavement. Some of which were coming from the poor Californian ahead of us desperately trying to keep his trailer from pushing him down the hill into the semi ahead. So yes, Dora was shredding it up in the mountain roads of Mexico, Shona was looking green in the backseat and Freja was up front enjoying all the donkeys and cows we passed by. There were moments of sheer beauty, but most of those were accompanied by sheer cliffs with no guard rails on the side. Mum, if you’re reading, stop shaking, it’s okay. This stretch of highway also did not have a variety of options for gas and we found ourselves cutting it close again, but thankfully 50 kilometers out of our destination there was a PEMEX (Mexican Gas Company) oasis and we all breathed a sigh of relief. We filled up here, the gas station attendant saw Eir in the back and immediately started taking her out of her car seat to show her off to her coworker at the other pump. They giggled and played while Mum went inside to get a couple snacks to tide us over until dinner. We haven’t been eating that well on the road, as our time is limited with not being able to drive at night and all. So chips and junk food for lunch and usually a good dinner. We could probably make it work a bit better if we had a little more time, but we’re cutting it real close to get to Guatemala in time for Spanish school. Anyway, I digress. So, our destination for last evening was a little beachside town called Playa Azul. We pulled into the town after dark, which always makes it that much more difficult to find our preferred camping destination, even more so when we’re still not 100% comfortable with our Spanish. After a few directions and a few missed turns we made it to the Hotel Playa Azul, which according to our guidebook had a few camping spots with hookups out back. It did. Nothing to write home about though, a caged in parking lot, some bathrooms I would try to avoid and a few palm trees. It would do. Famished after our diet of mostly chips and raisins we headed to the restaurant to get some food. We screwed up fairly bad in Sayulita and didn’t take out enough cash to last the night. The last of it was spent on toll roads and the half tank of emergency gas. Luckily the hotel would take a credit card for the room, which was a life saver. What we didn’t realize is that they couldn’t for our meal. We didn’t realize this until we’d eaten our meal (which consisted of 3 sub-par hamburgers), and wanted to pay for it. Oops. After a search around town for a bank and some sort of Spanglish communication we worked out that we would go to a bank and pay in the morning. Off to bed we went and woke up the next morning, got packed up and headed for a bank. The nearest bank was quite a distance and by the time we got there and back (about 2 hours), we were hungry again and had breakfast. Yay, another late start.

Anyway we ate and hit the road, which was much easier to drive than the last stretch so we made fairly good time. We arrived at our campground just outside Aculpoco at sunset and got settled in. The owner brought us some food from the restaurant and filled up the little mini-pool so Freja and Eir could have a splash around. The food was great, the Ocean is right at our doorstep and we even got to eat fresh coconut that the guard cut open for us. A little pricey, but $47 for a place to stay with our own private wading pool and 3 meals isn’t that bad I guess. So it’s here that I leave you about 8km's outside of the first major tourist town in Mexico. The ocean is really rough here and the waves are almost shaking the van. Very cool. Buenos Noche mi amigo’s.


November 1st and 2nd. Los Dias de la Mortes

No internet again today. We did try to find a cafe this morning but being a national holiday, everything was closed. It’s The Day of The Dead today. For those of you unfamiliar, it’s a celebration with origins in the Mayan Belief that on or near this day, the dead could walk with the living. So Mexicans have been adorning there friends and families tombs with all sorts of decorations, though most have a specific orange flower, I’m not sure what kind it is or the meaning behind it, but if it’s not on graves it’s piled high on vehicles or being sold at the many roadside stands. Some go party at the graves, pouring tequila to their fallen comrades and some go and weep. It’s quite the deal. Anyway, back to how we got where we are right now, which is a hotel room in the area of Mexico called Chiapas.

We awoke in our campground just outside Aculpoco to find that our garbage had again been ravaged by dogs. Every night that we leave our garbage hanging from the van, you can guarantee that it will be strewn all our the campsite by morning. So we got up, cleaned up the rogue animals handiwork and did our daily pack the van routine and headed off to find some groceries. We bypassed Aculpoco, not really being interested in putting up with the tourist traffic which we were told one could get stuck in for 3 hours. Not exactly what we were looking for in 30 Degree heat. I’m not going to tell you where we ended up getting our groceries, I’ll leave it up to your imagination. Just know that I didn’t for a moment feel proud of it. They did have a good organics selection though, which seems to be difficult to find in these parts. Mostly because they’re all sent up to Canada and The States. So packed up with groceries we set off for Puerto Escondido which translates as “The Hidden Port”. It was during this drive I should have learned the lesson that could have saved us today, and that lesson is don’t trust a CAA/AAA Map. According to our AAA map of Mexico, the area we were travelling through was...

Not Safe
Very Difficult to Get Unleaded Gas In.

As for the not safe part, it seemed like everyone in town as we drove through would honk, wave or give us the peace sign, so it seemed pretty friendly and safe to me. And there was a gas station every half an hour, so I began to feel a bit neurotic filling up every time I saw the PEMEX logo. The gas operators would look at me funny to as I say fill the tank in horrible Spanish only to put 3 litres in it. Oh well I should have learned my lesson about that stupid map, but we didn’t. More on that later.

It was a long hot drive though. Lots of “Topes” which I believe the English translation is something along the lines of “Annoying Giant Bumps that Seem to Pop Out of Nowhere While You’re Travelling at 80 km’s an Hour and Your Wife is In the Back Yelling at You for Hitting Them When She Doesn’t Have Her Seatbelt on Like You Could Somehow Have Magic, Psychic Powers and See The Invisible Humps and Warn Her So That She Could Somehow Brace Herself”. Though I might be a little off. This drive also had many animals on the road, as it was a farming and cattle grazing area. Kind of surreal to see cattle grazing next to palm trees for a prairie boy. We had our first full on military check, in which I had to get out and show them around the van. In all honesty though I think the guy just wanted to show off his english skills and his buddy was more interested in how much I paid for my tattoo. He was floored when I said $80 because I think he thought that I meant 80 Pesos which would be $8. After our little stop, we soldiered on (Pun Intended) and beside one more embarrassing stall as I was reaching out to give change to some girls collecting for their school, it was good. We did have to do a bit of night driving though, which was rewarded in the end by the hospitality and friendliness of fellow Canadians, Paul & Kim who have just taken over the trailer park in Puerto Escondido. We felt welcome from the moment we pulled in until leaving the next morning. We spent the night chatting away, swapping stories and drinking the Mescal that I got pressured into buying at a local shop. A really beautiful night. We made fairly good time getting ready in the morning and after an unsuccessful search for some internet connections we were on our way towards the Guatemala border. This road had less topes, but definitely more drama. Everything was going fairly smooth until we hit the city of Juchitan. It was here that we started falling apart at 4pm. We took a turn and then thought that we were wrong so went back into town to go the other direction. That direction took us down some very narrow, one way city streets that looked like an earthquake had hit and after a while of that, turned around again to try another direction By this time I was getting antsy as I did not want to drive at night again. So tempers flared, directions were lost and it wasn’t until 5pm that we realized the first road we took was actually the right one, had we only waited another 5kms.

It got worse. The sun went down quick and we found ourselves doing the one thing all the guidebooks we have agree on and that is, Never Drive at Night. I now understand why. We came to a crossroads and took an exit that was very badly lit and hard to understand. It was here that I started stressing out. Pitch Black, Winding Mountain Road in the narrowest bit of Mexico that is notorious for a constant 50/mph wind. Yikes. After passing a fallen tree, getting passed by double trailered Semi’s and winding through a barricade on a bridge under repair I noticed that our destination wasn’t on one of the signs I passed. I immediately called out the names to my co-pilot in the back and we discovered that we on the wrong road. So we stopped at the next town and asked the gas station attendant, well more like told him, “We’re Lost”.

It was then we figured out that we should have taken the other exit some 30 kms back. Now I know to some of you, 30 km isn’t that far. But when you are driving a VW bus with two screaming babies, wind gusts, blowing you off the road and donkeys, cows and horses on the side of the road, 30 km is far. Very far. So we turned around at around 7:30pm and headed back to our missed exit. It was another treacherous drive, but we finally made it. Exhausted, Hungry and really needing a beer. We decided instead of pulling everything out of the van we would get a cheap motel room and get a real early start tomorrow for the border. $30 for the room, and $15 for food and beer. Which leads me to right now. Food is finished, there is one more sip of beer left and everyone is sleeping. So that’s where I’m going to go. But before I do, I’d like to say, “Muchos Gracious Mexico, Me Gusta Tu!”

Until next time....

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