Apparently Bert feels that Peru is so dangerous, he's written a note for his parents in case he dies. Wah. I don't think Peru is gonna be that dangerous... but I started thinking about what I would write in my death note. Then I decided that the stuff I would write should not have to wait till when I die. Because when you die it doesn't really matter anymore, does it?
So here is an abbreviated version of my death/life notes:
To my family:
Thank you for everything. And don't worry-- my/our superior genes will be passed on through you. It's been fantastic to know that I can always depend on your support, and I constantly draw strength from that.
To Ouyang, Luz, Len, Mark n Lucas:
This sounds super cheesy, but I'm actually convinced that we'll be friends forever. And if there's an afterlife, I won't be surprised if we were friends there too-- and maybe by that time, the guys will have learnt to walk slowly enough that they don't lose us all the time--- but maybe not.
To Lisa:
Sometimes I feel like you know me better than I know myself. I don't think I need to say anything here-- you can probably write this for me. Thank you for being you.
To taiji people:
Hold the ball. And if other groups try to steal our space again, chase them away with your sword. Contrary to what ZLS believes, controlled rage does not conflict with the principles of taiji.
To 小妹:
Well, if I die in Peru I'm not sure how alive you'll be.. But it's been a whale of a ride, and I know we'll have more fun times. Keep your knees (and all other body parts) functional, k?
To everyone else:
Too many people to list. If you're reading this, pls know that I'm thinking of you right now but am too lazy to type your name here because if so I'll be writing until I die and that defeats the whole purpose of this note. At 3am, I can sincerely say that I feel nothing but love for the world, and that YOU have touched my life and it will never be the same again. This leads to very interesting thoughts about parallel universes... but that discussion will have to wait for another time.
Ok. yay. now that I'm done with my notes, if I were given only X amt of time to live I won't have to spend all of it writing this note because it's already written. Instead I would be able to do other things, like um.... eat magic mushrooms, or er... fulfill other deep dangerous desires.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
bowling for soup
Am in the middle of 'We need to talk about Kevin', by Lionel Shriver. Highly highly recommend the book. it's taking me a surprisingly large amount of time to get through it, though. Not only because I come home too tired to read, but also because I can only read a little before I have to stop and digest.
It's written as a series of letters from a woman to her husband, talking about their son, who had locked 11 people up in his high sch gym, and shot them.
The book is making me confront several personal issues, including
1) My long-held belief that I never will have children, and that I Should Not have children.
2) What can happen if one becomes disaffected/depressed/desperate
3) finding purpose
It also made me think about general stuff like
4) Teenagers
5) Education
6) Expectations
So.. it's quite heavy reading, and taxing both cerebrally and emotionally. It's nice that it's in a book-- seems like the kind of novel just screaming out to be made into a movie. but during a 2hr movie everything moves so fast, and you can't stop to chew on it for a day or two, and pick it up again later.
--------------------
Was talking to Joanna about the state of the economy/world/social order etc. It's very comforting to know people who are optimistic and hopeful about human nature, and who are taking steps to rectify injustices and help others.
I guess it's so easy to feel like nothing you can do will actually make a difference, so why bother. Better to run around making money so at least you have the option to make a larger contribution in future. And it's even easier once you've taken that step, to sink into the never-ending vicious cycle of Not-yet-I-don't-have-enough.
But when I wake up everyday I don't instinctively think about the millions of dispossessed poor. Should I be?? Why and/or why not??
Joanna says that in history, whenever there's been income disparity and corruption of this magnitude, the civilization will collapse. I dunno about collapse.. and she also admits that she doesn't believe that what happened to the Romans will happen now, partly because this whole thing is happening on a global scale. You can't have other civilizations rising to take the place of the old one because right now the entire world is so connected and the US has such a hegemony that if it completely collapses it'll take everyone down with it. It's like Peiyee mentioned about small banks in Germany going bust because of this subprime issue in America.
I think that the crash is inevitable. The only thing that governments, financial instituitions etc can do is plan how best to minimise impact, pick up the pieces, and try to stop such events from happening again. I'm not sure if delaying the crash will increase or decrease its effect. But I'm not an economist. I don't understand a lot of this. And I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this heightened awareness I'm cultivating about the economy n etc.
-------------------
I really really have to sleep.
It's written as a series of letters from a woman to her husband, talking about their son, who had locked 11 people up in his high sch gym, and shot them.
The book is making me confront several personal issues, including
1) My long-held belief that I never will have children, and that I Should Not have children.
2) What can happen if one becomes disaffected/depressed/desperate
3) finding purpose
It also made me think about general stuff like
4) Teenagers
5) Education
6) Expectations
So.. it's quite heavy reading, and taxing both cerebrally and emotionally. It's nice that it's in a book-- seems like the kind of novel just screaming out to be made into a movie. but during a 2hr movie everything moves so fast, and you can't stop to chew on it for a day or two, and pick it up again later.
--------------------
Was talking to Joanna about the state of the economy/world/social order etc. It's very comforting to know people who are optimistic and hopeful about human nature, and who are taking steps to rectify injustices and help others.
I guess it's so easy to feel like nothing you can do will actually make a difference, so why bother. Better to run around making money so at least you have the option to make a larger contribution in future. And it's even easier once you've taken that step, to sink into the never-ending vicious cycle of Not-yet-I-don't-have-enough.
But when I wake up everyday I don't instinctively think about the millions of dispossessed poor. Should I be?? Why and/or why not??
Joanna says that in history, whenever there's been income disparity and corruption of this magnitude, the civilization will collapse. I dunno about collapse.. and she also admits that she doesn't believe that what happened to the Romans will happen now, partly because this whole thing is happening on a global scale. You can't have other civilizations rising to take the place of the old one because right now the entire world is so connected and the US has such a hegemony that if it completely collapses it'll take everyone down with it. It's like Peiyee mentioned about small banks in Germany going bust because of this subprime issue in America.
I think that the crash is inevitable. The only thing that governments, financial instituitions etc can do is plan how best to minimise impact, pick up the pieces, and try to stop such events from happening again. I'm not sure if delaying the crash will increase or decrease its effect. But I'm not an economist. I don't understand a lot of this. And I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this heightened awareness I'm cultivating about the economy n etc.
-------------------
I really really have to sleep.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
A Spot Of Bother
just read the book by Mark Haddon. It's good. =)
He also wrote "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time" about a boy with autism.
A spot of bother is about a recent retiree who discovers eczema on his hip and becomes convinced that it is cancer and that he is going to die. However, he's an old dignified Englishman, who doesn't want to trouble anyone, least of all his wife, who he one day discovers is having an affair.
If I were a book reviewer I would call it "darkly funny" and "honest". [Although Lisa and I have learnt not to trust any film that is "darkly funny" because that is film critic code for "Not humorous at all. Just extremely weird and almost painful to watch."]
Anyways, the book made me think about
1) Retirement
This is jumping the gun a little-- even worse than Leonard's thinking about divorce.... But my goal has always been to retire early. Make $5 million dollars, then get out. Live off the interest. Yet... today at the supermarket I realised that inflation has reared it's ugly head... milk in safeway is $2.50/half gallon, $4.69/gallon. Insane. Used to be $2/half gallon. That's a 25% increase. Well... good thing my stipend has gone up to $2100/mth from $2000/mth. Truly, A*STAR makes me feel so loved.
Anyways. Moral of the story... I should raise my estimate to $10 million.
But I asked BS today what was his ideal retirement, and he said that ideally he would never retire-- that he'd be able to work a little forever and ever, and get paid for it too.
Yeah... I'm glad the world has people like BS. So the rest of us can slack.
2) Dying
In line with my early retirement plan is my early death plan. I've been thinking about Robert McGough's poem:
I totally disagree man. Especially about the living-till-104 part. Perhaps in 2080 living till 200yrs old will be commonplace. But perhaps not. Homo sapiens are not designed to live so long.
I wonder if there will be other species in the genus Homo after Homo sapiens.... But perhaps there will be another Ice Age soon, and we'll be wiped out all together? I've been watching the NBC drama "Heroes". It's very gripping. I don't agree with any of the science, but it makes for a great story--- people with super powers who want to do good, a pervading sense of destiny, a race to stop a foretold tragedy, powerful mysterious people who may be good or bad, husbands and wives and brothers and sisters and friends --- very addictive.
----------------
Back to 'a spot of bother': Like the protagonist in the book, I want to die a sudden death. None of this suffer-for-a-long-time stuff. Ever since I watched the movie 'Final Destination' (the first one, not the sequels), I've fantasized about getting hit by a bus.
He also wrote "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time" about a boy with autism.
A spot of bother is about a recent retiree who discovers eczema on his hip and becomes convinced that it is cancer and that he is going to die. However, he's an old dignified Englishman, who doesn't want to trouble anyone, least of all his wife, who he one day discovers is having an affair.
If I were a book reviewer I would call it "darkly funny" and "honest". [Although Lisa and I have learnt not to trust any film that is "darkly funny" because that is film critic code for "Not humorous at all. Just extremely weird and almost painful to watch."]
Anyways, the book made me think about
1) Retirement
This is jumping the gun a little-- even worse than Leonard's thinking about divorce.... But my goal has always been to retire early. Make $5 million dollars, then get out. Live off the interest. Yet... today at the supermarket I realised that inflation has reared it's ugly head... milk in safeway is $2.50/half gallon, $4.69/gallon. Insane. Used to be $2/half gallon. That's a 25% increase. Well... good thing my stipend has gone up to $2100/mth from $2000/mth. Truly, A*STAR makes me feel so loved.
Anyways. Moral of the story... I should raise my estimate to $10 million.
But I asked BS today what was his ideal retirement, and he said that ideally he would never retire-- that he'd be able to work a little forever and ever, and get paid for it too.
Yeah... I'm glad the world has people like BS. So the rest of us can slack.
2) Dying
In line with my early retirement plan is my early death plan. I've been thinking about Robert McGough's poem:
Let me die a young man's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death
When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party
Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns
burst in and give me a short back and insides
Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one
Let me die a young man's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death
I totally disagree man. Especially about the living-till-104 part. Perhaps in 2080 living till 200yrs old will be commonplace. But perhaps not. Homo sapiens are not designed to live so long.
I wonder if there will be other species in the genus Homo after Homo sapiens.... But perhaps there will be another Ice Age soon, and we'll be wiped out all together? I've been watching the NBC drama "Heroes". It's very gripping. I don't agree with any of the science, but it makes for a great story--- people with super powers who want to do good, a pervading sense of destiny, a race to stop a foretold tragedy, powerful mysterious people who may be good or bad, husbands and wives and brothers and sisters and friends --- very addictive.
----------------
Back to 'a spot of bother': Like the protagonist in the book, I want to die a sudden death. None of this suffer-for-a-long-time stuff. Ever since I watched the movie 'Final Destination' (the first one, not the sequels), I've fantasized about getting hit by a bus.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
yay
很幸运认识了两位中国朋友，给我介绍了google pinyin! now I can type in Chinese! Truly revolutionary. 可是我中文实在太栏了。真的哑口无言， 没话可说。
I've been keeping busy by watching Taiwanese dramas online. Was hooked on 'Devil Beside Me' (恶魔在身边) starring Mike He and Rainie Yang. This drama is apparently classified as an 'idol film' (偶像片) becos the actors/actresses are super hunky/chio. Mike He is definately drool-worthy; Rainie Yang is uber-cute, AND she sings well.. *sigh*... life is not fair. =X
I have mixed feelings about Rainie Yang's cuteness. The I-love-small-children part of me wants to rush up to hug her and protect her from the world, and the small-children-are-super-manipulative-they-should-all-
be-kept-in-a-box-until-they-grow-up part of me is cringing and disgusted that she uses these act-cute tactics. Found a video on youtube where she's actually discussing with the talk show host about how to act cute and the appropriate time and place etc.
Despite my disgust at Rainie's 下贱 technique, I must admit that most girls have finely honed strategies of 'persuasion' that work on the opposite sex, whether it's the 'wide-eyed cute look', or the 'petulent pout', or the 'silent anger treatment' etc. Of course, as Rainie mentions in the video, you can't use it too often, or it loses it's effectiveness.
I've been trying to work on a technique that will work on girls, but so far have not had any success. On the contrary: upon being treated to my multiple strategies, instead of giving in to my requests, my female friends convulse in laughter. This is quite disturbing. Guys: any advice??
warning: the video is kinda long, the how-to-be-cute part comes in the 2nd half
I've been keeping busy by watching Taiwanese dramas online. Was hooked on 'Devil Beside Me' (恶魔在身边) starring Mike He and Rainie Yang. This drama is apparently classified as an 'idol film' (偶像片) becos the actors/actresses are super hunky/chio. Mike He is definately drool-worthy; Rainie Yang is uber-cute, AND she sings well.. *sigh*... life is not fair. =X
I have mixed feelings about Rainie Yang's cuteness. The I-love-small-children part of me wants to rush up to hug her and protect her from the world, and the small-children-are-super-manipulative-they-should-all-
be-kept-in-a-box-until-they-grow-up part of me is cringing and disgusted that she uses these act-cute tactics. Found a video on youtube where she's actually discussing with the talk show host about how to act cute and the appropriate time and place etc.
Despite my disgust at Rainie's 下贱 technique, I must admit that most girls have finely honed strategies of 'persuasion' that work on the opposite sex, whether it's the 'wide-eyed cute look', or the 'petulent pout', or the 'silent anger treatment' etc. Of course, as Rainie mentions in the video, you can't use it too often, or it loses it's effectiveness.
I've been trying to work on a technique that will work on girls, but so far have not had any success. On the contrary: upon being treated to my multiple strategies, instead of giving in to my requests, my female friends convulse in laughter. This is quite disturbing. Guys: any advice??
warning: the video is kinda long, the how-to-be-cute part comes in the 2nd half
Friday, September 07, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
Lost, I Stand Alone.
I just saw the documentary "Jesus Camp".
It kinda freaked me out. It's about this group of Evangelicals who run a summer camp for kids, in the name of bringing them closer to God. However, it's actually an insidious campaign to inculcate their political beliefs into 5-12 yr olds. The movie focuses on the abortion issue but I'm sure creationism, global warming, homosexuality etc etc are also mentioned in these camps.
The kids in the film are really into Jesus/God/Holy Spirit, which is not necessarily a bad thing. And while it's true that moral values should be taught when young, i think that representing global warming as 'nothing to worry about', and teaching that the earth was created 6000 yrs ago is just WRONG... I think that if people don't believe in overwhelming scientific evidence, then they shouldn't believe in television, or satellites, or DNA testing, or any of the rest of it..... If these people are truly in touch with the Holy Spirit, and if God is a Good God.... how can it be telling them to keep driving their SUVs and to teach their kids all this???
I'm more convinced than ever that the way to take over the world is with a cult of brilliant, fervent kids, who believe everything you tell them because that's all they hear. Look at the young suicide bombers in the Middle East, the children in Nazi Germany.... it's so important to catch them when they're young... and idealize 'death for the cause', because once they grow up they might start to think for themselves. I think 12 yrs old is the maximum age. Puberty is the enemy.
It kinda freaked me out. It's about this group of Evangelicals who run a summer camp for kids, in the name of bringing them closer to God. However, it's actually an insidious campaign to inculcate their political beliefs into 5-12 yr olds. The movie focuses on the abortion issue but I'm sure creationism, global warming, homosexuality etc etc are also mentioned in these camps.
The kids in the film are really into Jesus/God/Holy Spirit, which is not necessarily a bad thing. And while it's true that moral values should be taught when young, i think that representing global warming as 'nothing to worry about', and teaching that the earth was created 6000 yrs ago is just WRONG... I think that if people don't believe in overwhelming scientific evidence, then they shouldn't believe in television, or satellites, or DNA testing, or any of the rest of it..... If these people are truly in touch with the Holy Spirit, and if God is a Good God.... how can it be telling them to keep driving their SUVs and to teach their kids all this???
I'm more convinced than ever that the way to take over the world is with a cult of brilliant, fervent kids, who believe everything you tell them because that's all they hear. Look at the young suicide bombers in the Middle East, the children in Nazi Germany.... it's so important to catch them when they're young... and idealize 'death for the cause', because once they grow up they might start to think for themselves. I think 12 yrs old is the maximum age. Puberty is the enemy.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
it's ok. I'm definately gonna catch the next one on Feb 20th 2008. check out it's NASA page Saturday, August 18, 2007
The problem of pain
I was IM-ing Leonard, who had just read my depressed post of June 30th. He told me not to be depressed because he's sure that things will work out in the end. Since Leonard is such a gd friend, I decided that it was safe to completely lose my cool and yell at him for making empty statements of assurances because
1) he can never be absolutely sure that things will work out in the end, for
2) he has no power at all over my experiments, and therefore
3) his statement only gives me false hope, and depresses me even more because it's said with such easy confidence. Everyone seems to have such expectations that I'll do fine, but they are not the ones doing failed experiment after failed experiment and rapidly running out of ideas to try and getting increasingly frantic..... *AARRRRRRGGGRGRHHHHH*
*deep breath*
SO. I've decided to make this 101th post a little tutorial about how to react to your grad student (GS) friends when they get depressed over work.
Strategy 1 -- distraction with comfort food
GS: I want to die.
Savvy Sympathizer: You poor thing. Let me buy you bubble tea/icecream/chocolate/egg tarts.
Strategy 2 -- distraction with other activities
GS: My experiments never work.
SS: I'm going to do [insert something wonderful and exciting which doesn't involve a pipette]. Wanna come?
Strategy 3 -- wise counsel
GS: My mice are (not) dying!! WHY?????
SS: Have you tried feeding them sunflower seeds? Apparently that improves their telepathy skills, and makes them tell you exactly what you're doing wrong.
Strategy 4 -- blessed relief
GS: My life is hell.
SS: *Whacks GS on the head with a heavy blunt instrument*
Negative demonstration (On NO ACCOUNT should this be tried at home)
GS: I'm never going to graduate!!
Sympathizer: Don't worry, I'm SURE things will work out in the end.
GS: *Whacks S on the head with heavy blunt instrument, and throws him out thru the window*
------------------------------
Oh.. and despite all evidence to the contrary, I'm actually doing ok. I've been practicing detachment, and it's working really well!! My suicidal tendencies are kept (mostly) in check, and surface only when people ask me, "So when are you graduating?"
I'll try to blog about happier things next time. Was at the bookstore and there was a book called "No one cares what you had for lunch -- 100 ideas for your blog." In it, the author wrote that even though it is tempting to use one's blog as a stage to gripe and whine, sometimes writing about happy things makes for a much more entertaining read.
I'm still mulling over that thought. And I tend to disagree. I think I am at my most entertaining when I'm ranting. Which brings me to a disturbing question: what if I'm at my happiest when I'm unhappy??
1) he can never be absolutely sure that things will work out in the end, for
2) he has no power at all over my experiments, and therefore
3) his statement only gives me false hope, and depresses me even more because it's said with such easy confidence. Everyone seems to have such expectations that I'll do fine, but they are not the ones doing failed experiment after failed experiment and rapidly running out of ideas to try and getting increasingly frantic..... *AARRRRRRGGGRGRHHHHH*
*deep breath*
SO. I've decided to make this 101th post a little tutorial about how to react to your grad student (GS) friends when they get depressed over work.
Strategy 1 -- distraction with comfort food
GS: I want to die.
Savvy Sympathizer: You poor thing. Let me buy you bubble tea/icecream/chocolate/egg tarts.
Strategy 2 -- distraction with other activities
GS: My experiments never work.
SS: I'm going to do [insert something wonderful and exciting which doesn't involve a pipette]. Wanna come?
Strategy 3 -- wise counsel
GS: My mice are (not) dying!! WHY?????
SS: Have you tried feeding them sunflower seeds? Apparently that improves their telepathy skills, and makes them tell you exactly what you're doing wrong.
Strategy 4 -- blessed relief
GS: My life is hell.
SS: *Whacks GS on the head with a heavy blunt instrument*
Negative demonstration (On NO ACCOUNT should this be tried at home)
GS: I'm never going to graduate!!
Sympathizer: Don't worry, I'm SURE things will work out in the end.
GS: *Whacks S on the head with heavy blunt instrument, and throws him out thru the window*
------------------------------
Oh.. and despite all evidence to the contrary, I'm actually doing ok. I've been practicing detachment, and it's working really well!! My suicidal tendencies are kept (mostly) in check, and surface only when people ask me, "So when are you graduating?"
I'll try to blog about happier things next time. Was at the bookstore and there was a book called "No one cares what you had for lunch -- 100 ideas for your blog." In it, the author wrote that even though it is tempting to use one's blog as a stage to gripe and whine, sometimes writing about happy things makes for a much more entertaining read.
I'm still mulling over that thought. And I tend to disagree. I think I am at my most entertaining when I'm ranting. Which brings me to a disturbing question: what if I'm at my happiest when I'm unhappy??
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
100th post!!
Wah. For my centennial post, i HAVE to say something insightful and meaningful and and um.. worthy of my first 3-digit post!!! I have a couple of possibilities:
1) find pi to 100 significant figures
2) state 100 reasons for blogging
3) find 100 solutions to Global Warming
4) write a 100 word poem
5) embed a video of 100 attempts to stand on my head
*sigh*. I am wholly disappointed with my inability to bestow this post with the pomp and circumstance that it deserves.
random question: who is The Man? I was watching Sch of Rock (entertaining movie. classic teacher-inspiration plot with a slight unorthodox angle-- kinda like Dead Poet's Society but not as good). Anyways, apparently in Rock music, the aim is to "stick it to The Man"....
Dewey Finn: You want me to teach you something? What? You want to learn something? Alright, here's a useful lesson: Give up! Just quit! Because in this life you can't win. Yeah, you can try, but in the end your just gonna lose, BIG TIME! Because the world is run by the man!
Frankie (Angelo Massagli): Who?
Dewey: The man. Oh, you don't know the man? The man's everywhere: in the White House, down the hall, Miss Mullins; she's the man! And the man ruined the ozone, and he's burning down the Amazon and he kidnapped Shamu and put her in a chlorine tank! Okay! And there used to be a way to stick it to the man, it was called rock 'n roll. But guess what? Oh no! The man had to ruin that too with a little thing called MTV! So don't waste your time trying to make anything cool or pure or awesome 'cause the man's just gonna call you a fat washed up loser and crush your soul. So do yourself a favor and just give up!
---------
when I was trying to find the above quote on google i also saw this website about 'rethinking education'. 2 choice paras:
wow. I'm stunned.
1) find pi to 100 significant figures
2) state 100 reasons for blogging
3) find 100 solutions to Global Warming
4) write a 100 word poem
5) embed a video of 100 attempts to stand on my head
*sigh*. I am wholly disappointed with my inability to bestow this post with the pomp and circumstance that it deserves.
random question: who is The Man? I was watching Sch of Rock (entertaining movie. classic teacher-inspiration plot with a slight unorthodox angle-- kinda like Dead Poet's Society but not as good). Anyways, apparently in Rock music, the aim is to "stick it to The Man"....
Dewey Finn: You want me to teach you something? What? You want to learn something? Alright, here's a useful lesson: Give up! Just quit! Because in this life you can't win. Yeah, you can try, but in the end your just gonna lose, BIG TIME! Because the world is run by the man!
Frankie (Angelo Massagli): Who?
Dewey: The man. Oh, you don't know the man? The man's everywhere: in the White House, down the hall, Miss Mullins; she's the man! And the man ruined the ozone, and he's burning down the Amazon and he kidnapped Shamu and put her in a chlorine tank! Okay! And there used to be a way to stick it to the man, it was called rock 'n roll. But guess what? Oh no! The man had to ruin that too with a little thing called MTV! So don't waste your time trying to make anything cool or pure or awesome 'cause the man's just gonna call you a fat washed up loser and crush your soul. So do yourself a favor and just give up!
---------
when I was trying to find the above quote on google i also saw this website about 'rethinking education'. 2 choice paras:
But throughout the movie, the students' attitudes about their education are clearly shifting-in a positive direction. In the climactic scene where the band performs, the students sing to an awestruck crowd that includes their parents: "Maybe we were making straight 'A's, / But we were stuck in a dumb daze. / Don't take much to memorize your lies, / Or feel like I've been hypnoticized./ . . . You know I was on a honor roll./ Got good grades and got no soul./ Raise my hand before I can speak my mind./ I been biting my tongue too many times."
The final lesson comes after they lose the Battle of the Bands. Finn is crushed, and a student reminds him, "Rock isn't about getting an 'A'. The Sex Pistols never got an 'A'." Ultimately this is what School of Rock is about: creating an education that is less alienating and embraces your soul instead of a system of education that dehumanizes.
---------------
yes..... but what about an education system in which you learn your ABCs and 123s?? hm but maybe that's not as impt as having a positive self image? but you can't live off self image... but maybe i think that because I've been conditioned to think that... sigh. I think Capitalism is The Man. the Establishment is The Man..... ah... all these wonderfully nebulous concepts.
How I love those JC-GP essay days when you just take 1 stand, psycho urself to fervently believe in it, then craft a paper in which you pretend to take a balanced view but actually insidiously slant your argument so that every paragraph makes a point in your favor.
OMG! Now I understand how the PAP works! THIS is how they control Singapore!wow. I'm stunned.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Loading...
Life
Is a constant fight
Against the tide
Of submission.
was just thinking about the Buddhist philosophy that life is a constant wheel of suffering, and that one has to do good deeds to gain enlightenment and freedom from the cycle of birth and rebirth. I was also thinking about how, for any society to progress economically, the upper class has to screw the lower class-- someone has to provide cheap labor, and the faster you want to progress, the harder you have to push your masses. But the problem with this is that the masses don't like to suffer. Fortunately, you have religion to keep them content. Buddhism is a brilliant, brilliant philosophy-- Of course you have to suffer now, my dearest laborers-- this is because of bad deeds you've done in your past life. Thank heavens you're still a man, and not reborn as an ant. But don't worry, be content and do good deeds now, so that you have a hope for a better next-life. Meanwhile, try to detach yourself from all emotion, and btw, eat only vegetables.
brilliant.
no wonder it spread so readily to China-- they also have millions of Oppressed that need to be kept docile.
Life SUX. I hope I get reborn as something that dies really quickly. wait... I dunno... maybe not. ARGH. Bloody hell. I have no control over anything anyways. Who in f*ck cares what I want, or hope for, or aspire for with every fibre of my being...
There exists
Two worlds
One that's there, and
One that's not.
Is a constant fight
Against the tide
Of submission.
was just thinking about the Buddhist philosophy that life is a constant wheel of suffering, and that one has to do good deeds to gain enlightenment and freedom from the cycle of birth and rebirth. I was also thinking about how, for any society to progress economically, the upper class has to screw the lower class-- someone has to provide cheap labor, and the faster you want to progress, the harder you have to push your masses. But the problem with this is that the masses don't like to suffer. Fortunately, you have religion to keep them content. Buddhism is a brilliant, brilliant philosophy-- Of course you have to suffer now, my dearest laborers-- this is because of bad deeds you've done in your past life. Thank heavens you're still a man, and not reborn as an ant. But don't worry, be content and do good deeds now, so that you have a hope for a better next-life. Meanwhile, try to detach yourself from all emotion, and btw, eat only vegetables.
brilliant.
no wonder it spread so readily to China-- they also have millions of Oppressed that need to be kept docile.
Life SUX. I hope I get reborn as something that dies really quickly. wait... I dunno... maybe not. ARGH. Bloody hell. I have no control over anything anyways. Who in f*ck cares what I want, or hope for, or aspire for with every fibre of my being...
There exists
Two worlds
One that's there, and
One that's not.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Da Scoop
This may be disappointing , though not at all unexpected.
1) Luz new bf has so far only been sighted by Mark. According to Mark, he is very shy. But at least we have one confirmed, reliable source. So we have evidence that he is real. I can't remember his name.... Samuel? Need to get his last name too so that we may google, facebook and friendster him. This will surely allow us to learn everything worth knowing, and make accurate value judgements on his personality, character, and suitability for our good friend Lucinda.
2) According to Mark, he has no love life.
3) According to Leonard, he also has no love life.
-----------
Just watched Shawshank Redemption again. Lisa is surprised that men get raped by other men in prison. I've somehow known this for a while, not just thru this movie. It is not at all surprising to me. Long/life sentences in prison is quite a while to have enforced celibacy. It's even worse than being on a boat for months and months, and look what a reputation Fleet Week has all over America. I was telling Lisa that the body has needs. And she corrected me that this is a want, not a need. I guess that's true. You don't need it to survive. But look at what happens when you deprive catholic priests.....
sigh. Humans are so flawed. but... what is perfection? Why is that perfect?
-----------------
I need to get out of my room, and out of the house. Apparently, the sun is shining outside.
1) Luz new bf has so far only been sighted by Mark. According to Mark, he is very shy. But at least we have one confirmed, reliable source. So we have evidence that he is real. I can't remember his name.... Samuel? Need to get his last name too so that we may google, facebook and friendster him. This will surely allow us to learn everything worth knowing, and make accurate value judgements on his personality, character, and suitability for our good friend Lucinda.
2) According to Mark, he has no love life.
3) According to Leonard, he also has no love life.
-----------
Just watched Shawshank Redemption again. Lisa is surprised that men get raped by other men in prison. I've somehow known this for a while, not just thru this movie. It is not at all surprising to me. Long/life sentences in prison is quite a while to have enforced celibacy. It's even worse than being on a boat for months and months, and look what a reputation Fleet Week has all over America. I was telling Lisa that the body has needs. And she corrected me that this is a want, not a need. I guess that's true. You don't need it to survive. But look at what happens when you deprive catholic priests.....
sigh. Humans are so flawed. but... what is perfection? Why is that perfect?
-----------------
I need to get out of my room, and out of the house. Apparently, the sun is shining outside.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Bleh.
I'm sitting here in lab, thinking about LIFE. Babysitting machines that take Forever to run and are liable to overpressurize and explode, tends to invoke thoughts about LIFE.
I've been instructed to blog, but so far have not accomplished any of my pre-blogging objectives-- i.e. getting the scoop on
1) Luz's new bf
2) Mark's love life (or lack of)
3) Leonard's love life (or lack of)
Realised sometime this afternoon that the reason everyone's so concerned about filing taxes is because tax returns are due in 12 days. That's bad. I need to stop blogging and start filing. This post will have to wait for another day.
I've been instructed to blog, but so far have not accomplished any of my pre-blogging objectives-- i.e. getting the scoop on
1) Luz's new bf
2) Mark's love life (or lack of)
3) Leonard's love life (or lack of)
Realised sometime this afternoon that the reason everyone's so concerned about filing taxes is because tax returns are due in 12 days. That's bad. I need to stop blogging and start filing. This post will have to wait for another day.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
GT: Final thoughts
What? More thoughts on GT? I've written pages and pages already, and there's yet more to be said?????
well... I guess whatever didn't seem to belong in the other posts will go here.
1) I can't recommend our Cancun hostel highly enough. Oscar was a fantastic host, and would bend over backwards for any one of his guests. Our first day there someone complained about the mosquitoes (there were MANY), and he returned promptly with mosquito repellent, foc. He can also arrange tours to wherever you might want to go, for the lowest prices in Cancun. Plus he makes good papaya with honey. The place is called Hotel Meson de Tulum, and it's on Ave Tulum, near the bus terminal.
2) Despite some warnings about armed robberies and such in the guidebook and also the travel forum, we did not encouter any life-threatening situations. Everyone we met was friendly, whether or not they were trying to charge us exorbitant tourist prices. However, I did feel that as 2 wide-eyed innocent girls travelling alone, we got charged higher prices than normal. We definately got fleeced a couple times that I'm still kicking myself for.
3) The guards in GT carry scary-looking rifles. They were not M16s... maybe they were Uzis. These guards were mostly standing in front of ATMs, though what for when all of them were out of money?? The police also carried rifles.... It's interesting that the GT coat of arms has 2 crossed rifles.
well... I guess whatever didn't seem to belong in the other posts will go here.
1) I can't recommend our Cancun hostel highly enough. Oscar was a fantastic host, and would bend over backwards for any one of his guests. Our first day there someone complained about the mosquitoes (there were MANY), and he returned promptly with mosquito repellent, foc. He can also arrange tours to wherever you might want to go, for the lowest prices in Cancun. Plus he makes good papaya with honey. The place is called Hotel Meson de Tulum, and it's on Ave Tulum, near the bus terminal.
2) Despite some warnings about armed robberies and such in the guidebook and also the travel forum, we did not encouter any life-threatening situations. Everyone we met was friendly, whether or not they were trying to charge us exorbitant tourist prices. However, I did feel that as 2 wide-eyed innocent girls travelling alone, we got charged higher prices than normal. We definately got fleeced a couple times that I'm still kicking myself for.
3) The guards in GT carry scary-looking rifles. They were not M16s... maybe they were Uzis. These guards were mostly standing in front of ATMs, though what for when all of them were out of money?? The police also carried rifles.... It's interesting that the GT coat of arms has 2 crossed rifles.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
11: Cancun, Isla Mujeres
The next day, we woke up automatically at 6.30am. This was highly annoying. Throughout the entire trip we'd been waking up early to catch early morning buses. But that day was Jan 1st. According to the guy at the tourist booth, no one wakes up till noon because they've all been drinking and partying all night.
By seven we had given up trying to sleep. In the kitchen, we find Oscar busily preparing breakfast. He makes us a bowl of papaya, granola and honey. He's really enthusiastic about the papaya, and is a strong advocate of its great intestinal medicinal effects. I'm not sure about its health benefits, but papaya with honey is a great combination. On par with bananas with
honey. Hm. I'm beginning to see a trend here. Maybe it's not the fruit at all. Maybe it's just the honey.......
Our plan for the day was to go to Isla Mujeres, 20mins ferry ride from Cancun. On normal days, Oscar can sell us an all-inclusive package for USD28 that includes swimming with sharks, watching turtles, lunch, bike rentals and open bar. However on Jan 1st no tours are running, so we had to take the do-it-yourself option.
We take a ferry over. Once we step off the dock there are people trying to sell us snorkel trips, golf cart rentals, etc. We decided that we didn't wanna do the typical tourist stuff, we just wanted to explore the island. So we turn right and walked resolutely southwards.
1hr later, we realise that we've made a bad decision. There was no one else walking, we were in the middle of a residential district, the sun was really hot, and we really had no idea why we were on this island. Part of this was my fault, because I somehow managed to lose the guidebook in Flores. We watch other tourists zip by on their golf carts, enroute to places unknown, which apparently are extremely far away by foot.
We see some sort of beach resort, so we go in. hm. nothing much. a short stretch of beach. We didn't bring beach stuff. We had come expecting to explore caves, because the Slovenian girl we met in Tulum mentioned that there were caves. So we had brought a flashlight and water, but no beach stuff. We finally give up and flag down a taxi. "Where do you wanna go?" asks the taxi driver. We shrug helplessly. "We don't know. Where do people go? Are there caves?"
It takes us 5 mins in the taxi to reach the southernmost tip of the island. We get off. It was extremely anticlimatic. We'd been walking for 90mins on this never-ending island and once we get in a taxi it's barely 5mins before we completely run out of island. wtf.
We hang out on the tip of the island. The sea is very pretty. It's the most amazing shade of blue. Postcard perfect. We sit under this thatched roof shelter and drink from a fresh coconut. We watch other tourists come and go. They arrive by bicycle or golf cart. No one is walking.
We walk along the coast. We see many iguanas sunning themselves. [there were iguanas at the Tulum ruins too!] We also see nice houses.
We get back to the road and wonder how we're gonna get back to the dock. I tell Charmaine that we shd hitchhike. we flag down the next golf cart we see. There are 2 mexican boys in it. "Where are you going?" they ask.
"The dock? ferry terminal?"
They make welcoming gestures and indicated that they could give us a ride.
yay! We clamber to the back of their golf cart. They offered us some coconut. We demurred.
They try to make conversation. I answer the best I can in Spanish. They are really friendly, and I wish I understood more. too bad. They drop us off at the terminal. It took us less than 15mins to get back. I now know for certain that walking is a terrible and time consuming mode of transportation. Golf carts are far superior.
On the ferry back we overhear conversations between an American family. They discussed their day swimming with the dolphins, and the trophy pictures they had to show for it. I thought about all the walking we did, our coconut, and our gallant golfcart knights-in-hawaiian-shirts.
From the port we had to walk back to the hotel (1hr) because the buses weren't running, and the minivans were full. Somehow this doesn't seem like an auspicious start to the New Year. But on our way back we buy a pineapple popsicle. We decide that both Guatemala and Mexico have good frozen popsicles.
Back in the hostel, people ask us how our day went. We mumble something evasive about how blue the sea was. and how much we like coconuts.
The next day we wake up, had our breakfast papaya, checked email, took a bus to the airport. We had a lot of fun, but I was happy to be going home. I really needed bubble tea and instant noodles.
By seven we had given up trying to sleep. In the kitchen, we find Oscar busily preparing breakfast. He makes us a bowl of papaya, granola and honey. He's really enthusiastic about the papaya, and is a strong advocate of its great intestinal medicinal effects. I'm not sure about its health benefits, but papaya with honey is a great combination. On par with bananas with
honey. Hm. I'm beginning to see a trend here. Maybe it's not the fruit at all. Maybe it's just the honey.......
Our plan for the day was to go to Isla Mujeres, 20mins ferry ride from Cancun. On normal days, Oscar can sell us an all-inclusive package for USD28 that includes swimming with sharks, watching turtles, lunch, bike rentals and open bar. However on Jan 1st no tours are running, so we had to take the do-it-yourself option.
We take a ferry over. Once we step off the dock there are people trying to sell us snorkel trips, golf cart rentals, etc. We decided that we didn't wanna do the typical tourist stuff, we just wanted to explore the island. So we turn right and walked resolutely southwards.
1hr later, we realise that we've made a bad decision. There was no one else walking, we were in the middle of a residential district, the sun was really hot, and we really had no idea why we were on this island. Part of this was my fault, because I somehow managed to lose the guidebook in Flores. We watch other tourists zip by on their golf carts, enroute to places unknown, which apparently are extremely far away by foot.
We see some sort of beach resort, so we go in. hm. nothing much. a short stretch of beach. We didn't bring beach stuff. We had come expecting to explore caves, because the Slovenian girl we met in Tulum mentioned that there were caves. So we had brought a flashlight and water, but no beach stuff. We finally give up and flag down a taxi. "Where do you wanna go?" asks the taxi driver. We shrug helplessly. "We don't know. Where do people go? Are there caves?"
It takes us 5 mins in the taxi to reach the southernmost tip of the island. We get off. It was extremely anticlimatic. We'd been walking for 90mins on this never-ending island and once we get in a taxi it's barely 5mins before we completely run out of island. wtf.
We hang out on the tip of the island. The sea is very pretty. It's the most amazing shade of blue. Postcard perfect. We sit under this thatched roof shelter and drink from a fresh coconut. We watch other tourists come and go. They arrive by bicycle or golf cart. No one is walking.
We walk along the coast. We see many iguanas sunning themselves. [there were iguanas at the Tulum ruins too!] We also see nice houses.We get back to the road and wonder how we're gonna get back to the dock. I tell Charmaine that we shd hitchhike. we flag down the next golf cart we see. There are 2 mexican boys in it. "Where are you going?" they ask.
"The dock? ferry terminal?"
They make welcoming gestures and indicated that they could give us a ride.
yay! We clamber to the back of their golf cart. They offered us some coconut. We demurred.
They try to make conversation. I answer the best I can in Spanish. They are really friendly, and I wish I understood more. too bad. They drop us off at the terminal. It took us less than 15mins to get back. I now know for certain that walking is a terrible and time consuming mode of transportation. Golf carts are far superior.
On the ferry back we overhear conversations between an American family. They discussed their day swimming with the dolphins, and the trophy pictures they had to show for it. I thought about all the walking we did, our coconut, and our gallant golfcart knights-in-hawaiian-shirts.
From the port we had to walk back to the hotel (1hr) because the buses weren't running, and the minivans were full. Somehow this doesn't seem like an auspicious start to the New Year. But on our way back we buy a pineapple popsicle. We decide that both Guatemala and Mexico have good frozen popsicles.
Back in the hostel, people ask us how our day went. We mumble something evasive about how blue the sea was. and how much we like coconuts.
The next day we wake up, had our breakfast papaya, checked email, took a bus to the airport. We had a lot of fun, but I was happy to be going home. I really needed bubble tea and instant noodles.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Diez: Tulum
At 5am we were very happy to board our Mexico-bound bus, and fell immediately into grateful slumber throughout the 11hr journey to Chetumal. From Chetumal we took an evening bus to Tulum, 2hrs south of Cancun.
At Tulum, we were lucky to get beds at the Weary Traveller Hostel with two Slovenians from the bus, Goran and Mirjana. It was Dec 30th and all the hotels were full, even the super-expensive ones by the beach. We only got our beds because of a tip from a taxi driver, and 4 dutch people who did not show up to claim their reservations. The weary traveller was a nice place: 100 pesos pp gets you a bed, shared internet, and free breakfast!
Breakfast was do-it-urself toast and eggs. We tried to make sunny-side ups on the large grill, but these eggs had super-large and fragile yolks, which broke upon impact. We ended up with scrambled eggs, despite Charmaine's self-declared mastery of the art of egg-cooking. =(.
There was also a free bus to the beach, where the tulum Mayan ruins were. For NY eve, admission was free for students! We spent a happy hr or 2 exploring the ruins (quite small, not very impressive) and admiring the blue blue Caribbean sea.
Walking back to the beach, we saw a small group of people pointing at a tree. Typical S'poreans that we were, we decided to take a look.
On a branch was a tiny bright green vine snake, but protruding from its mouth was the struggling body of a bird! The snake had it's mouth over the head and a little bit of the shoulders of the bird, but it still had most of its wings and body free. Over the next 15mins, we watched in sick fascination as milimeter by milimeter, the bird disappeared. Finally, it was simply a massive lump in the body of the snake.
cor.
crazy.
I tried very hard, but couldn't find any pictures on the internet of small green snakes swallowing medium-sized black birds. So no pics, sorry.
----------------
After the beach we went back to the hostel to check email (They hung Saddam!!), pack, and catch a bus to Cancun. We had reservations at the Hotel Meson de Tulum (in cancun, not in tulum), in downtown cancun. It's an extremely friendly place. The guy running the joint is a German-Mexican named Oscar, called 'blondie' by the locals even though he is now quite bald. Although Oscar was born and lived in Mexico for many years, he has a tall hulking German frame, and perspires profusely in the sweltering Cancun heat.
Anyways, Oscar had a little BBQ for the hotel staff at about 10pm that night, and invited everyone to join them for sausages, bbq and pico de gallo. There was a group of mexican boys on staff who had guitars, an amplifier, and great singing voices. There was also a group of Korean girls there who clapped enthusiastically at the end of every song, and took many pictures. At midnight there were some fireworks to commemorate the New Year. Oscar broke out the champagne.
Feliz Ano!
At Tulum, we were lucky to get beds at the Weary Traveller Hostel with two Slovenians from the bus, Goran and Mirjana. It was Dec 30th and all the hotels were full, even the super-expensive ones by the beach. We only got our beds because of a tip from a taxi driver, and 4 dutch people who did not show up to claim their reservations. The weary traveller was a nice place: 100 pesos pp gets you a bed, shared internet, and free breakfast!
Breakfast was do-it-urself toast and eggs. We tried to make sunny-side ups on the large grill, but these eggs had super-large and fragile yolks, which broke upon impact. We ended up with scrambled eggs, despite Charmaine's self-declared mastery of the art of egg-cooking. =(.
There was also a free bus to the beach, where the tulum Mayan ruins were. For NY eve, admission was free for students! We spent a happy hr or 2 exploring the ruins (quite small, not very impressive) and admiring the blue blue Caribbean sea.Walking back to the beach, we saw a small group of people pointing at a tree. Typical S'poreans that we were, we decided to take a look.
On a branch was a tiny bright green vine snake, but protruding from its mouth was the struggling body of a bird! The snake had it's mouth over the head and a little bit of the shoulders of the bird, but it still had most of its wings and body free. Over the next 15mins, we watched in sick fascination as milimeter by milimeter, the bird disappeared. Finally, it was simply a massive lump in the body of the snake.
cor.
crazy.
I tried very hard, but couldn't find any pictures on the internet of small green snakes swallowing medium-sized black birds. So no pics, sorry.
----------------
After the beach we went back to the hostel to check email (They hung Saddam!!), pack, and catch a bus to Cancun. We had reservations at the Hotel Meson de Tulum (in cancun, not in tulum), in downtown cancun. It's an extremely friendly place. The guy running the joint is a German-Mexican named Oscar, called 'blondie' by the locals even though he is now quite bald. Although Oscar was born and lived in Mexico for many years, he has a tall hulking German frame, and perspires profusely in the sweltering Cancun heat.
Anyways, Oscar had a little BBQ for the hotel staff at about 10pm that night, and invited everyone to join them for sausages, bbq and pico de gallo. There was a group of mexican boys on staff who had guitars, an amplifier, and great singing voices. There was also a group of Korean girls there who clapped enthusiastically at the end of every song, and took many pictures. At midnight there were some fireworks to commemorate the New Year. Oscar broke out the champagne.
Feliz Ano!
GT 9: flores again, enroute to cancun
It was Dec 29th. Our flight leaves Cancun on Jan 2nd. We have cancun reservations for Dec 31st and Jan 1st. It was time to head back to Mexico. We consider our options:
1) Take a ferry to Belize, bus up the Carribbean coast. That was the original plan. but the guidebook had no info about buses in Belize and we were once again low on $$. And everyone says that Belize is expensive. So instead we decided on
2) Bus back to Flores and retrace our steps to Chetumal and Cancun.
We catch an afternoon bus to Flores, and buy tickets for the morning bus to Chetumal. We now have about Q120. Hm. The cheapest room would be a dorm at the Los Amigos hostel, Q25pp. The time was about 7pm, our bus leaves at 5am. Getting a bed would be such a waste of $$.
We decide that we were not going to get any accomodations. Instead, Parque Centrale would be our home for the night.
The park is simply a small plaza in the middle of the island of Flores. There's a taco stand, a restuarant, an icecream stall, and a basketball/soccer court. Since it was Christmas, there was also a huge lighted Christmas tree perched atop a big red Gallo box. Gallo (rooster) is the local beer. We'd seen the tree the last time we were at Flores, but now we had the time (8 hours) to really appreciate it. We realised that Gallo really went out of their way to decorate this tree. There were big lighted Gallo icon ornaments, and even a huge rotating Gallo sign at the top.
It was Friday night, and many people were out at the park. There was some sort of street soccer tournament going on, and also a mirimba band.
at 10 plus-11, the soccer was over. the band stopped playing. We think there was some party somewhere else cos we heard music... we hang out on our park bench, trying to pass time. We tell each other our life stories.
Our lives are either very short or very boring, because we were done and it was only 12.30 or 1am. We bring out the cards to play dai-di (big 2). We see some drunk singing guys walking past.
This one guy comes up to us. He looks very happy and interested in our cards. He makes little exclamations of joy, and watches us play. then, 2 drunk guys appeared and asked for money. "One quetzale!" the guy pleads. we pretend not to understand. wtf... we were not going without a bed that night just to give all our money to this guy to buy beer....
The happy card guy argues with the drunk guys. He tells them we have no money. We are very confused. who is this guy? is this some sort of ploy so that we give the happy guy our money instead? We decide to continue playing daidi while the animated verbal battle rages around us.
The 2 drunk guys leave. the happy guy stays. we remain confused.
The happy guy asks, "No dormir?"
"No", we tell him.
"PORQUE?" (why) he asks with a dramatic flourish.
we try to tell him about our lack of $$. he doesn't seem to understand. "mi casa" he says, pointing to the house next to the park. "PORQUE?" he wails, intermittenly.
He gestures to our cards. "Chung king?" he asks.
"No.... um.... big two?"
hm. he takes our cards, shuffles them. "ok. Chung king". He launches into a stream of spanish. We shrug helplessly. After some time I think he realised that we are very confused and have no idea what's going on. He places several cards face up. "Yes, yes, yes", he says to each card. He takes out other cards: "NO! NO! NO!" He doesn't seem to like those cards (8, 9, 10). In fact, he ferrets out all the 8s, 9s and 10s, and puts them in a pile under my bag. He shuffles the rest, and starts giving out cards. "nueve (9)" he says at the end. The rest is in a pile at the center. He looks at his cards. "YES! YES! YES!" he exclaims, clutching them to his chest. "Very good!" He beams. He opens the top card on the pile. "You!" he points expectantly at Charmaine.
She is Very Confused. I am Very Confused. You could practically see the question marks coming outta our ears.
he sighs. He takes out several cards. there were three 7s, i think. "yes" he says, pointing to them. He also groups together a 7, J, Q, and a J, Q, K. "Yes." He points at those too.
After a few false starts, we were surprised to find that we were understanding how to play this game. It's actually some version of Gin Rummy. But the best part was this happy guy. He was hilarious. Incredibly dramatic, he would either be estatic over his cards, or abjectly despondant.
"NOOOOOO!!!!" he would practically sob. "Nada!!" he would wail, looking mournfully at his cards.
Charmaine was a little slower at getting the game (probably cos I had 3 chpts of spanish on her), so sometimes he would help her play and be deliriously happy when she won.
"Champion!" he pumped his fists in the air.
He talked to us a little. He said he was 23. He didn't believe Charmaine was only 19, and firmly told her that she was at least 21.
He played cards with us from 2-4am, then went home, but not without another "No Dormir??? POR-QUE?"
1) Take a ferry to Belize, bus up the Carribbean coast. That was the original plan. but the guidebook had no info about buses in Belize and we were once again low on $$. And everyone says that Belize is expensive. So instead we decided on
2) Bus back to Flores and retrace our steps to Chetumal and Cancun.
We catch an afternoon bus to Flores, and buy tickets for the morning bus to Chetumal. We now have about Q120. Hm. The cheapest room would be a dorm at the Los Amigos hostel, Q25pp. The time was about 7pm, our bus leaves at 5am. Getting a bed would be such a waste of $$.
We decide that we were not going to get any accomodations. Instead, Parque Centrale would be our home for the night.
The park is simply a small plaza in the middle of the island of Flores. There's a taco stand, a restuarant, an icecream stall, and a basketball/soccer court. Since it was Christmas, there was also a huge lighted Christmas tree perched atop a big red Gallo box. Gallo (rooster) is the local beer. We'd seen the tree the last time we were at Flores, but now we had the time (8 hours) to really appreciate it. We realised that Gallo really went out of their way to decorate this tree. There were big lighted Gallo icon ornaments, and even a huge rotating Gallo sign at the top.It was Friday night, and many people were out at the park. There was some sort of street soccer tournament going on, and also a mirimba band.
at 10 plus-11, the soccer was over. the band stopped playing. We think there was some party somewhere else cos we heard music... we hang out on our park bench, trying to pass time. We tell each other our life stories.
Our lives are either very short or very boring, because we were done and it was only 12.30 or 1am. We bring out the cards to play dai-di (big 2). We see some drunk singing guys walking past.
This one guy comes up to us. He looks very happy and interested in our cards. He makes little exclamations of joy, and watches us play. then, 2 drunk guys appeared and asked for money. "One quetzale!" the guy pleads. we pretend not to understand. wtf... we were not going without a bed that night just to give all our money to this guy to buy beer....
The happy card guy argues with the drunk guys. He tells them we have no money. We are very confused. who is this guy? is this some sort of ploy so that we give the happy guy our money instead? We decide to continue playing daidi while the animated verbal battle rages around us.
The 2 drunk guys leave. the happy guy stays. we remain confused.
The happy guy asks, "No dormir?"
"No", we tell him.
"PORQUE?" (why) he asks with a dramatic flourish.
we try to tell him about our lack of $$. he doesn't seem to understand. "mi casa" he says, pointing to the house next to the park. "PORQUE?" he wails, intermittenly.
He gestures to our cards. "Chung king?" he asks.
"No.... um.... big two?"
hm. he takes our cards, shuffles them. "ok. Chung king". He launches into a stream of spanish. We shrug helplessly. After some time I think he realised that we are very confused and have no idea what's going on. He places several cards face up. "Yes, yes, yes", he says to each card. He takes out other cards: "NO! NO! NO!" He doesn't seem to like those cards (8, 9, 10). In fact, he ferrets out all the 8s, 9s and 10s, and puts them in a pile under my bag. He shuffles the rest, and starts giving out cards. "nueve (9)" he says at the end. The rest is in a pile at the center. He looks at his cards. "YES! YES! YES!" he exclaims, clutching them to his chest. "Very good!" He beams. He opens the top card on the pile. "You!" he points expectantly at Charmaine.
She is Very Confused. I am Very Confused. You could practically see the question marks coming outta our ears.
he sighs. He takes out several cards. there were three 7s, i think. "yes" he says, pointing to them. He also groups together a 7, J, Q, and a J, Q, K. "Yes." He points at those too.
After a few false starts, we were surprised to find that we were understanding how to play this game. It's actually some version of Gin Rummy. But the best part was this happy guy. He was hilarious. Incredibly dramatic, he would either be estatic over his cards, or abjectly despondant.
"NOOOOOO!!!!" he would practically sob. "Nada!!" he would wail, looking mournfully at his cards.
Charmaine was a little slower at getting the game (probably cos I had 3 chpts of spanish on her), so sometimes he would help her play and be deliriously happy when she won.
"Champion!" he pumped his fists in the air.
He talked to us a little. He said he was 23. He didn't believe Charmaine was only 19, and firmly told her that she was at least 21.
He played cards with us from 2-4am, then went home, but not without another "No Dormir??? POR-QUE?"
GT 8: Rio Dulce
Sad as we were to leave Antigua, I was nevertheless pretty psyched about our next destination: Rio Dulce (gentle river). For one thing, it is back in the jungle/tropical part of GT, while Antigua is in the highlands, where it gets COLD at night. Our hostel had no heating, and windows that do not shut; after barely sleeping the 1st night, I wore every single piece of clothing I had to bed the 2nd night, and finally managed to get some shuteye.
The Austrian guy (Thilo) in Antigua recommended staying at Casa Perico. It's 10mins by boat from the town of Rio Dulce/Fronteras, in a little waterway branching off from the main river. Tucked in the jungle/mangrove, the hostel has nice little cabanas on stilts, hammocks (Hammocks!), a bar, and little dugout canoes. We took a canoe out to explore the river, and learnt that
1) dugout canoes are extremely wobbly
2) zigzagging wildly from left to right to left riverbank is not the most efficient way to travel
(picture credit: Eve Andersson's Rio Dulce page)
The next day we took a bus to Finca Paraiso, home of the agua caliente (hot water) waterfall. The bus drops us at the little open hut/shelter. There's a guy inside with a metal box collecting the entrance fee. Then this other guy wearing a yellow t-shirt that says 'SECURITY' starts walking into the jungle and gestures us to follow. He talks to me in Spanish. I think he's saying good things about the waterfall, because he mentions 'agua caliente' and there's a huge smile on his face. I try to talk back. We lapse into silence.
10mins later we descend to the river bank and Oh! there's the waterfall! It's tucked in a little corner of the lush forest-- a side tributary (hot water) falling into the meander of the main brook (cold water), with water so clear you can see the pebbly bottom.
We get into the water. hm. it's a weird mix of hot and cold. We swim to the falls and clamber up to the rocks at the base. We manage to find several good spots where, positioning ourselves just so, we could sit or stand against the rocks, and have the hot falling water massage our shoulders and back.
BLISS.
I felt like I could stay there forever. When we felt too hot we simply stuck our feet down to the cold stream, or take another swim before climbing back up for more hot massages... it was better than any spa I've been to!
[um... actually that's not saying very much because I haven't been to ANY spas... but trust me, it was good.]
-------
We reluctantly tear ourselves away from this little spot of paradise, mostly because 2 large guatemalan families, each with about 15 assorted children, parents and grandparents, had arrived. We wait along the road for 1.5hrs for the bus while baking slowly in the sun. We think about buying an orange from the little girl selling oranges at the hut. we also think about walking back to Rio Dulce, probably a 2hr walk if we didn't get lost. [ok, actually I was thinking of walking, but was easily disuaded from the idea by Charmaine]
A quick aside here about oranges in GT: they get peeled using this interesting orange peeler contraption. you stick the orange between the clamps and just turn the handle. viola! perfectly peeled citrus. every fruit and drink cart seems to have one, and hawkers clamber up to your bus bearing baskets of peeled oranges for your Vit C-consuming pleasure.
The Austrian guy (Thilo) in Antigua recommended staying at Casa Perico. It's 10mins by boat from the town of Rio Dulce/Fronteras, in a little waterway branching off from the main river. Tucked in the jungle/mangrove, the hostel has nice little cabanas on stilts, hammocks (Hammocks!), a bar, and little dugout canoes. We took a canoe out to explore the river, and learnt that1) dugout canoes are extremely wobbly
2) zigzagging wildly from left to right to left riverbank is not the most efficient way to travel
(picture credit: Eve Andersson's Rio Dulce page)
The next day we took a bus to Finca Paraiso, home of the agua caliente (hot water) waterfall. The bus drops us at the little open hut/shelter. There's a guy inside with a metal box collecting the entrance fee. Then this other guy wearing a yellow t-shirt that says 'SECURITY' starts walking into the jungle and gestures us to follow. He talks to me in Spanish. I think he's saying good things about the waterfall, because he mentions 'agua caliente' and there's a huge smile on his face. I try to talk back. We lapse into silence.
10mins later we descend to the river bank and Oh! there's the waterfall! It's tucked in a little corner of the lush forest-- a side tributary (hot water) falling into the meander of the main brook (cold water), with water so clear you can see the pebbly bottom.
We get into the water. hm. it's a weird mix of hot and cold. We swim to the falls and clamber up to the rocks at the base. We manage to find several good spots where, positioning ourselves just so, we could sit or stand against the rocks, and have the hot falling water massage our shoulders and back.BLISS.
I felt like I could stay there forever. When we felt too hot we simply stuck our feet down to the cold stream, or take another swim before climbing back up for more hot massages... it was better than any spa I've been to!
[um... actually that's not saying very much because I haven't been to ANY spas... but trust me, it was good.]
-------
We reluctantly tear ourselves away from this little spot of paradise, mostly because 2 large guatemalan families, each with about 15 assorted children, parents and grandparents, had arrived. We wait along the road for 1.5hrs for the bus while baking slowly in the sun. We think about buying an orange from the little girl selling oranges at the hut. we also think about walking back to Rio Dulce, probably a 2hr walk if we didn't get lost. [ok, actually I was thinking of walking, but was easily disuaded from the idea by Charmaine]
A quick aside here about oranges in GT: they get peeled using this interesting orange peeler contraption. you stick the orange between the clamps and just turn the handle. viola! perfectly peeled citrus. every fruit and drink cart seems to have one, and hawkers clamber up to your bus bearing baskets of peeled oranges for your Vit C-consuming pleasure.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Guatemala siete -- Volcan Pacaya
On our second day in Antigua, we joined a group hike up Volcan Pacaya. Wikipedia's entry on Pacaya can be found here, and the entry on types of volcanic eruptions can be found here.
There are 4 volcanoes near Antigua:
1) Fuego: the most active one. there's always a little fume cloud visible above it's crater, and views are supposed to be spectacular at night.
2) Acatenango: the tallest one. but less accessible, the hike is 14hrs roundtrip.
3) Agua: don't know much about it.
4) Pacaya: the most accessible, and the easiest to climb. The hike is only about 2 hrs roundtrip. It's an active volcano, the last eruption was 2005.
Our grp was fairly large, about 15-20 people. The hike was easy and uneventful, till we got to the lava fields. The view was great! Very rewarding for an hour-hike. It was a clear day, we could see verdant hills to the left and right. We also saw Agua in the foreground, and Fuego and Acatenango slightly further away.
The lava was also quite impressive. There weren't any active flows that day, but there were vents here and there, from which fumes were emerging. The air near the ground was wavy from the heat. And if you looked into a vent you get a blast of hot air, and can see red hot lava inside. It was VERY COOL. um. in a very hot kind of way.
A Swiss guy in our group had bought a branch/walking stick at the trailhead and was sharpening it with a fanatic grin throughout the hike. At the lava field, our fears of being attacked by this potential escaped serial killer were thankfully put to rest, when he produced from his backpack: a pack of hotdogs! He stuck one onto his stick, and happily roasted it at the mouth of a vent. Soon, delicious hotdog smells were produced and everyone suddenly developed strong hotdog cravings.
The next time I climb a volcano, I have to remember my hotdogs. and maybe marshmellows.
Other thoughts on Pacaya:
1) It didn't smell bad! Frm previous trips to Lassen Volcanic Park in CA, I'd expected Pacaya to smell like the sulphur pits there, one of which is aptly named "Bumpass Hell". However, the Austrian guy who attempted the Pacaya summit said that the fumes from the crater were really thick and sulphurous.
2) solid lava feels hollow. Sounds hollow too, when you walk on it. It's also kinda crusty and sharp. On the weakest parts, felt like if you stamped hard on it your foot would go right through.
---------
Other thoughts on Antigua:
1) We had the most wonderful lunch after our Pacaya hike. Q15 yielded really good chicken with rice, some sort of juice, and bananas with honey for dessert. I've decided that bananas with honey is a truly exceptional combination.
2) We finally tried a frutas helados (fruit icecream), and it was fantastic! Throughout our trip and especially at the Chichi market we've been seeing the locals eat frozen popsicles that they pull out of a plastic cupcake thinggy. It's basically little chunks of fruit frozen with fruit juice or cream/yogurt. We bought the 'mixed fruit' flavor and there were mangoes, bananas, pineapples etc in mango (or mebbe peach) juice. It made us very happy. Antigua is a lovely place.
There are 4 volcanoes near Antigua:
1) Fuego: the most active one. there's always a little fume cloud visible above it's crater, and views are supposed to be spectacular at night.
2) Acatenango: the tallest one. but less accessible, the hike is 14hrs roundtrip.
3) Agua: don't know much about it.
4) Pacaya: the most accessible, and the easiest to climb. The hike is only about 2 hrs roundtrip. It's an active volcano, the last eruption was 2005.
Our grp was fairly large, about 15-20 people. The hike was easy and uneventful, till we got to the lava fields. The view was great! Very rewarding for an hour-hike. It was a clear day, we could see verdant hills to the left and right. We also saw Agua in the foreground, and Fuego and Acatenango slightly further away.
The lava was also quite impressive. There weren't any active flows that day, but there were vents here and there, from which fumes were emerging. The air near the ground was wavy from the heat. And if you looked into a vent you get a blast of hot air, and can see red hot lava inside. It was VERY COOL. um. in a very hot kind of way.
A Swiss guy in our group had bought a branch/walking stick at the trailhead and was sharpening it with a fanatic grin throughout the hike. At the lava field, our fears of being attacked by this potential escaped serial killer were thankfully put to rest, when he produced from his backpack: a pack of hotdogs! He stuck one onto his stick, and happily roasted it at the mouth of a vent. Soon, delicious hotdog smells were produced and everyone suddenly developed strong hotdog cravings.The next time I climb a volcano, I have to remember my hotdogs. and maybe marshmellows.
Other thoughts on Pacaya:
1) It didn't smell bad! Frm previous trips to Lassen Volcanic Park in CA, I'd expected Pacaya to smell like the sulphur pits there, one of which is aptly named "Bumpass Hell". However, the Austrian guy who attempted the Pacaya summit said that the fumes from the crater were really thick and sulphurous.
2) solid lava feels hollow. Sounds hollow too, when you walk on it. It's also kinda crusty and sharp. On the weakest parts, felt like if you stamped hard on it your foot would go right through.
---------
Other thoughts on Antigua:
1) We had the most wonderful lunch after our Pacaya hike. Q15 yielded really good chicken with rice, some sort of juice, and bananas with honey for dessert. I've decided that bananas with honey is a truly exceptional combination.
2) We finally tried a frutas helados (fruit icecream), and it was fantastic! Throughout our trip and especially at the Chichi market we've been seeing the locals eat frozen popsicles that they pull out of a plastic cupcake thinggy. It's basically little chunks of fruit frozen with fruit juice or cream/yogurt. We bought the 'mixed fruit' flavor and there were mangoes, bananas, pineapples etc in mango (or mebbe peach) juice. It made us very happy. Antigua is a lovely place.
Monday, January 15, 2007
GT SIX: San Marcos de Laguna, some Antigua
Panajachel is but one of many villages around Lago Atitlan. There were many others, which the book urged us to check out. So we took a launcha (motorboat) to the village of San Marcos, touted as having a "Zen-like atmosphere".
It was not very Zen. It just looked like a slightly nicer village. The dogs were slightly less dusty, and the chickens tended to stay in their yards. I guess compared to the rest of GT, it's about as Zen as it gets. They had some really nice hotels, though. We had dinner at Hotel La Paz, which had mystical Zen music wafting from the kitchen, organic gardens, and a Mayan sauna (basically a small square oven). But we had a very nice meal there, and talked to other travellers-- one of whom was Paul Miller, D.O., who provided an extremely thorough history of osteopathic medicine while trying to feed his 9 yr old son.
Anyways. Not impressed with San Marcos. We liked the lake, though. On a fog-less day, the water is very blue (Charmaine is very impressed by blue water), and the volcanoes made a nice backdrop to the whole tranquil scene.
We leave for Antigua. We really liked Antigua. It's a small colonial town, with cobblestoned streets (pretty, but try driving on them and your butt will hate you), and half-ruined churches. Apparently, the churches were once lavish baroque affairs with ornately painted walls and ceilings. But the spanish had to build them in Antigua, which is smack in the middle of 3 very active volcanoes, and a hotbed of seismic activity. 2 or 3 large devastating earthquakes later, they gave up rebuilding the churches to their former glory, and were content to just rebuild the large hall and alter part. The rest of the ruins are not wasted, though. They just fence it off and charge tourists admission fees to see them.
We went to see the ruins of the Inglesia de San Francisco, which were surprisingly fun to explore. The church was huge! We could clamber up to the second floor of a somewhat intact part of the structure, and see how the rest of the thing had fallen apart. We also went to the museum, which turned out to be a tribute to the priest who founded the church, Hermano Pedro (Brother Pedro). The museum was full of plaques and cards addressed to Hermano Pedro, with much effusive thanks. There was also his robes and stuff in glass displays. One of them was a pair of shorts made of some coarse hemp-like cloth, and I didn't understand much of the accompanying sign, but I made out the words 'Ropa Interiors'.
So. We think they were his underpants.
We've decided that the hallmark of acheivement-in-life is to have people love and honor you so much that when you die, they set up a museum for you and display your underpants.
Monday, January 08, 2007
GT 5: Lago Atitlan
Lake Atitlan is reputably one of the most beautiful places in Guatemala. It's a caldera in the Guatemalan highlands, nestled between mountains and volcanoes. Maybe it was the slight fog/smog clouding my view, but on first glance, I felt that the Palisades near Bishop in California has far more astounding bodies of water, and that Lake Tahoe also gives Lago Atitlan a fair fight.
Anyways. We arrived at Panajachel on the chicken bus, and found a place to stay. Pana is clearly a tourist town. Stalls selling everything from wooden flutes to cloth bags and hippie necklaces. Many Mayan women from surrounding villages come to sell brightly colored clothes that they weave themselves. We saw one of them actually weaving on her wooden loom by the lake. There were also many hammocks. I really wanted a hammock....
We get back to the hotel. I wanted to take my camera out to photograph the lake.
But it wasn't in my bag.
I check again.
hm. my anti-diarrhea pills and pen were also gone.
It took a while to sink in.
I think that while we were on the van to Guate from Coban, the family in the backseat with our bags must have opened the front pockets and taken it.
ARRGH. I am stupid stupid stupid. Firstly, I should have had my camera with me at all times. Not in my bag. Secondly, if my bag was in the back seat, what the @#$! was I doing in front?
*sigh*
It's ok. Expensive lesson learnt. I'm just not fated to own a working camera.
.
.
I hope they get constipation
.
.
The next morning we took a day trip to Chichicastenango. Yeah, i know. All their names are like that, especially in the highlands. Chichi is famous for its huge markets on thursdays and sundays, when tourists flock there to purchase brightly colored, intricately embroided cloth, bags, hammocks [HAMMOCKS!!], oven mitts (!!??! there were some in the shape of a chicken!), masks.... the list goes on.
but the best part about chichi is that it's not just a tourist thing. For decades it's also been where the surrounding villagers would come to obtain fruits, veg, beans, cloth, thread, kitchenware (we saw some HUGE machetes), flowers, meat (which surprisingly did not smell bad, unlike the wet markets in Singapore)......
Our first order of business was to procure breakfast. The guidebook said to ignore the fried chicken foodcarts, and head for the food stalls right in the middle of the market, where the locals go for cheap meals. So we walk reluctantly pass the delicious smells of fried chicken, and head towards our best guess as to where the centre was. Somehow we manage to stumble on a row of food stalls. Most of them were selling cornflakes with milk, and something that looked like gruel, or oatmeal. Hm. We gave up fried chicken for cornflakes?? We walk on.
Then I saw a stall with people eating stuff wrapped in some sort of leaf, or corn husk.... erm.. it was green, and looks like it came from a plant. So we take a seat. We point to the plate of our neighbor to the left, and ask the lady manning the place: "Que es?"
"tamale"
"Ah! Ok. Uno tamale, por favor."
We share the tamale, which is glutinous rice that tastes a little salty. There were some random chicken parts (including a toe) in it. It actually tasted pretty good (though I didn't try the toe).
Hm. still hungry. We point to the plate of our neighbor to the right, "Que es?"
"Choquito"
AH. The lonely planet guidebook tries to approximate cost of living in each country by listing common items and their prices. Under guatemala they had: bottled water $0.50, beer $1.50, choquito $0.50. Apparently, a choquito is cornmeal baked in a cornhusk, often filled with some sort of meat. Since the book uses choquitos as one of their cost-of-living measures, we had expected to find Guatemala crawling with people eating and selling choquitos. However, we had been in GT nearly a week but all we'd seen were tacos and hotdogs. So. We were very excited when she said, "choquito". However, when we ate our choquito we found that we didn't really like it. The cornmeal was firm and dry-- the tamale tasted much better.
The rest of the day was not very eventful. We didn't wanna buy anything at chichi because the prices were kinda inflated, and the sellers didn't seem willing to bargain very much. The stores at the outskirts had less traffic and the prices were better there, but by that time we were so tired we could barely muster the energy to ask "cuanto cuesta? (how much)", much less get down to bargaining.
That day was Dec 24th, Christmas eve. Random stores, and even the chicken buses, had their radios tuned to upbeat Christmas music. There was the ever-popular 'Feliz Navidad', and we were surprised to also hear 'Santa Claus is coming to town' in spanish.
Guatemaltecos celebrate Navidad with fireworks and firecrackers. Lots and Lots of them. In fact, for the past 3 nights we've had some difficulty sleeping because of all the explosions outside. On 24th Dec, it's a full day thing. Children will light a firecracker, throw it out into the street, then run back to hide behind their doorways and watch it explode. So. When you're walking along the street, you have to be on constant lookout for giggling groups of children. When you see one dash out, then disappear, it is wise to also take cover in the nearest doorway.
We had a very low key Christmas eve. We went to a bar for happy hour Pina Coladas, then went back to watch TV till the explosions started in earnest (about 11.45pm). On our way back to the hotel we saw a 'parade' of people dressed up as random characters (I think there was a Little Mermaid and maybe also Tigger), followed by a whole group of children led by a teacher (?). We're not too sure what that was about, but were happy that with all the children out of the way, we could get back relatively unscathed.
Standing on the balcony of our hotel, we could see fireworks from at least 3 directions. It was actually pretty impressive. They didn't have the fancy ones that explode into different shapes, but they had the nice big ones, and also the sparkly ones. There was also one that was just one bright, loud spark on estacy. It shot up with a 'WHEE' sound, then proceeded to make spiralling loops, change directions abruptly, go up and down, until finally, exhausted, fell gracefully in a shower of sparks. That was really cool. We were hoping for more of those, but I guess they ran out of estacy.
Anyways. We arrived at Panajachel on the chicken bus, and found a place to stay. Pana is clearly a tourist town. Stalls selling everything from wooden flutes to cloth bags and hippie necklaces. Many Mayan women from surrounding villages come to sell brightly colored clothes that they weave themselves. We saw one of them actually weaving on her wooden loom by the lake. There were also many hammocks. I really wanted a hammock....
We get back to the hotel. I wanted to take my camera out to photograph the lake.
But it wasn't in my bag.
I check again.
hm. my anti-diarrhea pills and pen were also gone.
It took a while to sink in.
I think that while we were on the van to Guate from Coban, the family in the backseat with our bags must have opened the front pockets and taken it.
ARRGH. I am stupid stupid stupid. Firstly, I should have had my camera with me at all times. Not in my bag. Secondly, if my bag was in the back seat, what the @#$! was I doing in front?
*sigh*
It's ok. Expensive lesson learnt. I'm just not fated to own a working camera.
.
.
I hope they get constipation
.
.
The next morning we took a day trip to Chichicastenango. Yeah, i know. All their names are like that, especially in the highlands. Chichi is famous for its huge markets on thursdays and sundays, when tourists flock there to purchase brightly colored, intricately embroided cloth, bags, hammocks [HAMMOCKS!!], oven mitts (!!??! there were some in the shape of a chicken!), masks.... the list goes on.
but the best part about chichi is that it's not just a tourist thing. For decades it's also been where the surrounding villagers would come to obtain fruits, veg, beans, cloth, thread, kitchenware (we saw some HUGE machetes), flowers, meat (which surprisingly did not smell bad, unlike the wet markets in Singapore)......
Our first order of business was to procure breakfast. The guidebook said to ignore the fried chicken foodcarts, and head for the food stalls right in the middle of the market, where the locals go for cheap meals. So we walk reluctantly pass the delicious smells of fried chicken, and head towards our best guess as to where the centre was. Somehow we manage to stumble on a row of food stalls. Most of them were selling cornflakes with milk, and something that looked like gruel, or oatmeal. Hm. We gave up fried chicken for cornflakes?? We walk on.Then I saw a stall with people eating stuff wrapped in some sort of leaf, or corn husk.... erm.. it was green, and looks like it came from a plant. So we take a seat. We point to the plate of our neighbor to the left, and ask the lady manning the place: "Que es?"
"tamale"
"Ah! Ok. Uno tamale, por favor."
We share the tamale, which is glutinous rice that tastes a little salty. There were some random chicken parts (including a toe) in it. It actually tasted pretty good (though I didn't try the toe).
Hm. still hungry. We point to the plate of our neighbor to the right, "Que es?""Choquito"
AH. The lonely planet guidebook tries to approximate cost of living in each country by listing common items and their prices. Under guatemala they had: bottled water $0.50, beer $1.50, choquito $0.50. Apparently, a choquito is cornmeal baked in a cornhusk, often filled with some sort of meat. Since the book uses choquitos as one of their cost-of-living measures, we had expected to find Guatemala crawling with people eating and selling choquitos. However, we had been in GT nearly a week but all we'd seen were tacos and hotdogs. So. We were very excited when she said, "choquito". However, when we ate our choquito we found that we didn't really like it. The cornmeal was firm and dry-- the tamale tasted much better.
The rest of the day was not very eventful. We didn't wanna buy anything at chichi because the prices were kinda inflated, and the sellers didn't seem willing to bargain very much. The stores at the outskirts had less traffic and the prices were better there, but by that time we were so tired we could barely muster the energy to ask "cuanto cuesta? (how much)", much less get down to bargaining.That day was Dec 24th, Christmas eve. Random stores, and even the chicken buses, had their radios tuned to upbeat Christmas music. There was the ever-popular 'Feliz Navidad', and we were surprised to also hear 'Santa Claus is coming to town' in spanish.
Guatemaltecos celebrate Navidad with fireworks and firecrackers. Lots and Lots of them. In fact, for the past 3 nights we've had some difficulty sleeping because of all the explosions outside. On 24th Dec, it's a full day thing. Children will light a firecracker, throw it out into the street, then run back to hide behind their doorways and watch it explode. So. When you're walking along the street, you have to be on constant lookout for giggling groups of children. When you see one dash out, then disappear, it is wise to also take cover in the nearest doorway.
We had a very low key Christmas eve. We went to a bar for happy hour Pina Coladas, then went back to watch TV till the explosions started in earnest (about 11.45pm). On our way back to the hotel we saw a 'parade' of people dressed up as random characters (I think there was a Little Mermaid and maybe also Tigger), followed by a whole group of children led by a teacher (?). We're not too sure what that was about, but were happy that with all the children out of the way, we could get back relatively unscathed.
Standing on the balcony of our hotel, we could see fireworks from at least 3 directions. It was actually pretty impressive. They didn't have the fancy ones that explode into different shapes, but they had the nice big ones, and also the sparkly ones. There was also one that was just one bright, loud spark on estacy. It shot up with a 'WHEE' sound, then proceeded to make spiralling loops, change directions abruptly, go up and down, until finally, exhausted, fell gracefully in a shower of sparks. That was really cool. We were hoping for more of those, but I guess they ran out of estacy.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
GT - numero quatro - Coban-Guate-Pana
The next morning we caught the 5.30am minivan to Guatemala City. All buses and minivans in GT work like this: there's the driver, who just drives. Then there's his helper/conductor, who's in charge of collecting fares, squeezing everyone into the bus/van, negotiating with the police roadblocks, calling out the stops, and loudly advertising their final destination. So I heard the minivan before we actually saw it, because cries of GUA-TAY! Guatay-guatay-guatay! were piercing the night air. [guatemala city is abbreviated to 'guate']
The conductor gestures for our backpacks, and puts them in the backseat. We take a seat in front. It's a 3.5hr ride to guate. We doze. People come and go on the minivan, including a family of 5 with a chicken in a cardboard box, all of whom squeeze into the backseat.
Guatemala City! It's huge! Traffic is insane: buses, cars, taxis fighting for space. No skyscrapers, just 2-storey buildings, foodcarts and women selling vegetables and clothes displayed in mesh baskets, or simply blankets on the ground. We stop in the midst of all this bustle and everyone gets off the bus. We get a taxi to the Panajachel bus terminal.
The terminal was more like a garage with 3 buses in it. There was the driver, the conductor, and 2 other guys. As the bus driver started the engine, one of the guys said to us, "ten minutes, sleep! zona eight, normal!"
huh?
He repeated the cryptic message, then tried to explain in a whole stream of spanish that included the word 'policia'. He pantomimed lying across the bus seats and sleeping, indicating that we should do the same. The other guatemalan guy was already stretched out across his seat.
Feeling extremely confused, Charmaine and I decided to follow suit. The bus pulled out of the terminal.... Lying there, staring at the ceiling, a myriad of tumultuous thoughts.... It was a very existential 10mins.
Then, the bus stopped. Several normal people boarded, and appeared mildly surprised to see us stretched out on the seats, our feet sticking into the aisle. We hastily assumed normal sitting postures. Up till today I have no idea what happened that morning.
So we took that Guatemalan 'chicken bus' to the town of Panajachel, on the shores of Lake Atitlan. This is how the locals travelled and there was much discussion about these buses on the travel forum. The most succinct description I could find was "Chicken bus? Whoo hoo!"
These buses are old US school buses, given fresh paint in various bright colors. each one is slightly different. The one we were on was green and red, with a little santa hanging from the rear view mirror. I've seen bright red ones with yellow flames on the sides and hood, and also one painted like an italian flag. Bulky luggage was thrown on the roof, and the conductor could sometimes be found riding on top, ready to throw off bags at the next stop.
Char n I were sitting 2 to a seat on the bench seat. But each stop more and more people boarded the bus. people started sitting 3 to a seat. I had this random guy jammed against me, n I in turn was shoulder to shoulder with charmaine, who was getting intimately acquainted with the window. Soon, people were standing in the aisles, but they just kept packing them in. Then, the bus slowed down and the conductor yelled something in spanish. In unison, every single person standing crouched down. The bus slowed to a crawl. I saw policemen by the side of the road. The conductor jumped off.
2mins later he jumped back on, the bus sped up.
All the crouching people stood up again.
wtf?
It was definately an experience. I spent 4 hours on that bus, feeling like a sardine. By the end of it, I realised that my right butt and leg had cramped up because I was so squashed, all my weight was only on my right butt cheek.
At random stops, and especially at popular bus-terminal villages, there would be boys, men and women, hawking fried chicken, cold drinks, tamales, ice cream... the list goes on. There were even travelling salesmen that would board and ride with us for a couple stops, while earnestly trying to sell magazines, notebooks and miracle medicines. There were always at least a couple of people in that captive audience of 150 passengers who wanted to buy a trick bandage you can wear over your finger, that makes it appear like you've been pierced by a nail, for only Q10.
Them guys can shout really loudly and quickly. Those tougue twisters in grade sch would have been such a piece of cake for these professionals. That night lying in bed in Pana, the cries of "Pollo-pollo-pollo-pollo-POLLO!!!" and "Helados-helados-helados-helados-helados!" were still resounding in my head.
The conductor gestures for our backpacks, and puts them in the backseat. We take a seat in front. It's a 3.5hr ride to guate. We doze. People come and go on the minivan, including a family of 5 with a chicken in a cardboard box, all of whom squeeze into the backseat.
Guatemala City! It's huge! Traffic is insane: buses, cars, taxis fighting for space. No skyscrapers, just 2-storey buildings, foodcarts and women selling vegetables and clothes displayed in mesh baskets, or simply blankets on the ground. We stop in the midst of all this bustle and everyone gets off the bus. We get a taxi to the Panajachel bus terminal.
The terminal was more like a garage with 3 buses in it. There was the driver, the conductor, and 2 other guys. As the bus driver started the engine, one of the guys said to us, "ten minutes, sleep! zona eight, normal!"
huh?
He repeated the cryptic message, then tried to explain in a whole stream of spanish that included the word 'policia'. He pantomimed lying across the bus seats and sleeping, indicating that we should do the same. The other guatemalan guy was already stretched out across his seat.
Feeling extremely confused, Charmaine and I decided to follow suit. The bus pulled out of the terminal.... Lying there, staring at the ceiling, a myriad of tumultuous thoughts.... It was a very existential 10mins.
Then, the bus stopped. Several normal people boarded, and appeared mildly surprised to see us stretched out on the seats, our feet sticking into the aisle. We hastily assumed normal sitting postures. Up till today I have no idea what happened that morning.
So we took that Guatemalan 'chicken bus' to the town of Panajachel, on the shores of Lake Atitlan. This is how the locals travelled and there was much discussion about these buses on the travel forum. The most succinct description I could find was "Chicken bus? Whoo hoo!"
These buses are old US school buses, given fresh paint in various bright colors. each one is slightly different. The one we were on was green and red, with a little santa hanging from the rear view mirror. I've seen bright red ones with yellow flames on the sides and hood, and also one painted like an italian flag. Bulky luggage was thrown on the roof, and the conductor could sometimes be found riding on top, ready to throw off bags at the next stop.
Char n I were sitting 2 to a seat on the bench seat. But each stop more and more people boarded the bus. people started sitting 3 to a seat. I had this random guy jammed against me, n I in turn was shoulder to shoulder with charmaine, who was getting intimately acquainted with the window. Soon, people were standing in the aisles, but they just kept packing them in. Then, the bus slowed down and the conductor yelled something in spanish. In unison, every single person standing crouched down. The bus slowed to a crawl. I saw policemen by the side of the road. The conductor jumped off.
2mins later he jumped back on, the bus sped up.
All the crouching people stood up again.
wtf?
It was definately an experience. I spent 4 hours on that bus, feeling like a sardine. By the end of it, I realised that my right butt and leg had cramped up because I was so squashed, all my weight was only on my right butt cheek.
At random stops, and especially at popular bus-terminal villages, there would be boys, men and women, hawking fried chicken, cold drinks, tamales, ice cream... the list goes on. There were even travelling salesmen that would board and ride with us for a couple stops, while earnestly trying to sell magazines, notebooks and miracle medicines. There were always at least a couple of people in that captive audience of 150 passengers who wanted to buy a trick bandage you can wear over your finger, that makes it appear like you've been pierced by a nail, for only Q10.
Them guys can shout really loudly and quickly. Those tougue twisters in grade sch would have been such a piece of cake for these professionals. That night lying in bed in Pana, the cries of "Pollo-pollo-pollo-pollo-POLLO!!!" and "Helados-helados-helados-helados-helados!" were still resounding in my head.
GT III- Coban
Next stop: Coban. An often-missed destination right in the middle of GT. However, the travel forum folks waxed poetic about the turquoise pools of Semuc Champey, and the guidebook listed it as one of 5 highlights, so straight after Tikal we packed our bags and left Flores in a minivan.
From Coban it's a 2hr mountain road to Lanquin, then a 20min narrow bumpy dirt path downhill to Semuc.
From About.com:
Semuc Champey, which means "Sacred Water" in the Mayan Kekchi language, is a natural limestone land bridge studded with a series of freshwater pools, suspended over the Cahabon River. The pools range in color from emerald to near-violet, and the water is deliciously cool. Lush, forested hills cradle the river, which surges below the bridge in a ferocious undertow.
Before swimming, we took a side trail that said: El Mirador. Difficulty: Difficult. 1.5 hr. There was an explanation of what we could expect from El Mirador at the entrance to the park. But once again my woefully inadequete language skills failed me. So, heeding our masochistic instincts, we started gleefully up the path.
There was a lot of climbing up steps cut from the mountain side. There was a lot of mud on these steps. If my name were Wilbur and I go oink, I'd have been really happy. Unfortunately, our sad lack of schizophrenia made us increasingly upset over the state of our shoes. I also had visions of slipping and sliding down the mountain. I stole glances away from the ground and towards the trees, hoping to find a nice banana leaf to slide down on. But no such luck.
All of a sudden, we were at the top. We had been climbing steadily up, and now found ourselves on a wooden platform, drinking in the view of a deep river valley flanked by forested hills. The pools were far below us, promising delicious respite after that treacherous climb. yay.
We slipped and slid back down, then tiptoed gingerly into a pool. Cold!! But the sun was out and it was a fantastic day. We lounged around, swam a bit. There were little fishes that came to nibble our toes. They were swarming about Charmaine and I was starting to get jealous-- why don't they like MY toes?!?!? Then they came to mine too, and we were both sitting in this pool, giggling like schoolgirls because it really tickled. (yes yes, we ARE schoolgirls, but that's not the point) Attempts to grab a fish failed miserably, till I devised the brilliant strategy of cupping them from both sides.
By late morning there were 4-5 guatemalan families also seeking a nice swim, so we decided to head back to lanquin to check out the caves. We waited at the entrance for the hourly bus that would arrive in 20mins.
1.5hrs later, we decided that the bus was never going to come. I tried asking Carlos, a really friendly boy that was selling cold drinks from his cooler, about the bus. I couldn't really understand his spanish, but I heard 'eleven', 'twelve', 'one'. He shrugged. With my brilliant powers of deduction, I think he meant that the bus might come at eleven, or twelve, or one... who knows? We settled down for a long wait.
A guatemalan family who was hanging out at the visitor's center starting piling into their minivan to get up to lanquin. Initially, I considered asking them for a ride, but as more and more of them appeared and went into the van, I realised that there probably wasn't room for 2 more. I think they had 15 people, plus 2 babies, in that van. I debated the merits of climbing on the roof of the van and hanging on. Charmaine did her eye rolling thing at me again. I don't understand why her optic muscles need so much exercise.
Then, a pickup arrived, bearing gallons of water. Boys swarmed out, unloading it. The pickup turned around. I called to Carlos, "?para Lanquin?" I gestured frantically at Charmaine and myself and pantomimed riding on a pickup. Carlos' eyes light up. !Si! He talked rapidly in spanish to the boys driving the pickup.
whoop! We piled into the back. Charmaine, myself, 2 other girls who were waiting for the bus, and this guatemalan guy.
10 minutes later, clinging on for dear life, trying not to slide off the pickup as we disregarded all the potholes on the steeply inclining slope, I wondered if I would still have any teeth left by the time we get to lanquin. I was convinced that they were gradually being shaken loose from my jaw. The guatemalan guy was still sitting nonchalently at his corner-- I think he was enjoying the breeze.
Because of all our productive waiting at Semuc, we decided that it was too late to visit the caves. The bus to Coban should arrive shortly.
Much to my surprise, the bus came on time! But it was a minivan, packed to the gills. The bench seats were packed 5 to a seat, and wooden boxes served as extra seats. I sat on a wooden box in front, facing backwards, my back pressed against the backseat of the guy riding shotgun. I couldn't lean forward because there was a guy stooping right in my face-- he was standing on the little step that minivans have between the door and the seats. I wish I had a good picture. I'm sure there were at least 25 people in that van.
Back in Coban, we decided to go to Vivero Verapaz, an orchid farm 3km outta town. The owner Juan was really friendly and showed us around personally. The 25 yr old farm is his backyard, where he has over 600 species of orchids!! Most orchids only bloom 2 months in the year, so not everyone had flowers, but those that did were SO PRETTY. Exclamations of "!Muy Bonito!" escaped from our lips at every step. I'm not a flower person, but I was very impressed. The coolest ones are the mini orchids, which can be so small you can fit 4 of them on the back of your pinky fingernail. With a digital camera, with miminal zoom, macro settings and the maximum light sensitivity, all attempts at capturing them on film failed miserably. Our hands were shaking like crazy, though we hadn't had any coffee.. The pictures below are the Monja Blanca (white nun -GT nat'l flower), and the only good mini orchid pic I could find online. We didn't see this species at Coban, but it's such a nice pic I've put it here anyways. The only problem I had at the farm were the hordes of mosquitoes. We were fresh from a bath at Semuc and didn't reapply repellent-- deep regrets.
From Coban it's a 2hr mountain road to Lanquin, then a 20min narrow bumpy dirt path downhill to Semuc.
From About.com:
Semuc Champey, which means "Sacred Water" in the Mayan Kekchi language, is a natural limestone land bridge studded with a series of freshwater pools, suspended over the Cahabon River. The pools range in color from emerald to near-violet, and the water is deliciously cool. Lush, forested hills cradle the river, which surges below the bridge in a ferocious undertow.
Before swimming, we took a side trail that said: El Mirador. Difficulty: Difficult. 1.5 hr. There was an explanation of what we could expect from El Mirador at the entrance to the park. But once again my woefully inadequete language skills failed me. So, heeding our masochistic instincts, we started gleefully up the path.
There was a lot of climbing up steps cut from the mountain side. There was a lot of mud on these steps. If my name were Wilbur and I go oink, I'd have been really happy. Unfortunately, our sad lack of schizophrenia made us increasingly upset over the state of our shoes. I also had visions of slipping and sliding down the mountain. I stole glances away from the ground and towards the trees, hoping to find a nice banana leaf to slide down on. But no such luck.
All of a sudden, we were at the top. We had been climbing steadily up, and now found ourselves on a wooden platform, drinking in the view of a deep river valley flanked by forested hills. The pools were far below us, promising delicious respite after that treacherous climb. yay.
We slipped and slid back down, then tiptoed gingerly into a pool. Cold!! But the sun was out and it was a fantastic day. We lounged around, swam a bit. There were little fishes that came to nibble our toes. They were swarming about Charmaine and I was starting to get jealous-- why don't they like MY toes?!?!? Then they came to mine too, and we were both sitting in this pool, giggling like schoolgirls because it really tickled. (yes yes, we ARE schoolgirls, but that's not the point) Attempts to grab a fish failed miserably, till I devised the brilliant strategy of cupping them from both sides.
By late morning there were 4-5 guatemalan families also seeking a nice swim, so we decided to head back to lanquin to check out the caves. We waited at the entrance for the hourly bus that would arrive in 20mins.
1.5hrs later, we decided that the bus was never going to come. I tried asking Carlos, a really friendly boy that was selling cold drinks from his cooler, about the bus. I couldn't really understand his spanish, but I heard 'eleven', 'twelve', 'one'. He shrugged. With my brilliant powers of deduction, I think he meant that the bus might come at eleven, or twelve, or one... who knows? We settled down for a long wait.
A guatemalan family who was hanging out at the visitor's center starting piling into their minivan to get up to lanquin. Initially, I considered asking them for a ride, but as more and more of them appeared and went into the van, I realised that there probably wasn't room for 2 more. I think they had 15 people, plus 2 babies, in that van. I debated the merits of climbing on the roof of the van and hanging on. Charmaine did her eye rolling thing at me again. I don't understand why her optic muscles need so much exercise.
Then, a pickup arrived, bearing gallons of water. Boys swarmed out, unloading it. The pickup turned around. I called to Carlos, "?para Lanquin?" I gestured frantically at Charmaine and myself and pantomimed riding on a pickup. Carlos' eyes light up. !Si! He talked rapidly in spanish to the boys driving the pickup.
whoop! We piled into the back. Charmaine, myself, 2 other girls who were waiting for the bus, and this guatemalan guy.
10 minutes later, clinging on for dear life, trying not to slide off the pickup as we disregarded all the potholes on the steeply inclining slope, I wondered if I would still have any teeth left by the time we get to lanquin. I was convinced that they were gradually being shaken loose from my jaw. The guatemalan guy was still sitting nonchalently at his corner-- I think he was enjoying the breeze.
Because of all our productive waiting at Semuc, we decided that it was too late to visit the caves. The bus to Coban should arrive shortly.
Much to my surprise, the bus came on time! But it was a minivan, packed to the gills. The bench seats were packed 5 to a seat, and wooden boxes served as extra seats. I sat on a wooden box in front, facing backwards, my back pressed against the backseat of the guy riding shotgun. I couldn't lean forward because there was a guy stooping right in my face-- he was standing on the little step that minivans have between the door and the seats. I wish I had a good picture. I'm sure there were at least 25 people in that van.
Back in Coban, we decided to go to Vivero Verapaz, an orchid farm 3km outta town. The owner Juan was really friendly and showed us around personally. The 25 yr old farm is his backyard, where he has over 600 species of orchids!! Most orchids only bloom 2 months in the year, so not everyone had flowers, but those that did were SO PRETTY. Exclamations of "!Muy Bonito!" escaped from our lips at every step. I'm not a flower person, but I was very impressed. The coolest ones are the mini orchids, which can be so small you can fit 4 of them on the back of your pinky fingernail. With a digital camera, with miminal zoom, macro settings and the maximum light sensitivity, all attempts at capturing them on film failed miserably. Our hands were shaking like crazy, though we hadn't had any coffee.. The pictures below are the Monja Blanca (white nun -GT nat'l flower), and the only good mini orchid pic I could find online. We didn't see this species at Coban, but it's such a nice pic I've put it here anyways. The only problem I had at the farm were the hordes of mosquitoes. We were fresh from a bath at Semuc and didn't reapply repellent-- deep regrets.
Guatemala II- Tikal
From Chetumal we had a 10hr bus ride to Flores, in Guatemala. Our actual displacement was not that great, but there was no straight road b/w Chetumal and Flores. We had to go SE to Belize City, then SW to Flores, paying all these border fees at every stop. Pisses me off. Only the Belize exit fee is legitimate, and that's US$15/person, when we're simply passing thru their #$%! country. The Mexican & Guate fee I'm sure went straight into their 'border officials beer fund'.
Ok. Nevermind. We get to Sta Elena and transfer to a minivan at a gas station. I think this was also a bit of a setup. The minivan guys were affiliated with some travel agency, and tried to bring us all to this one hotel, and kept asking us to take their Tikal tour. Tikal was a great Mayan city, and the restored ruins is THE place to go near Flores. Eujin highly recommended the Tikal sunrise tour, so we signed up for that. But first we needed to get $$ frm the ATM.
The long line outside the ATM shd have alerted us that something was wrong. In fact, the entire Guatemala was facing a huge problem: it was near Christmas and the high tourist season, and Everybody needed cash. There was a nationwide ATM crash crisis where most ATMs were out of cash, or not working, or working erratically. We tried 5-6 different ATMs (there were only 6 atms in the entire town), and no money. We were so screwed.
We had maybe 100 Quetzales total. The hotel cost Q80. That means Q20 for dinner till the banks open in the morning. A meal at any restaurant costs at least Q35. We were so screwed. We wandered around Flores, which is a tiny island walkable in 15mins, looking for food. We finally found Parque Central, which had a taco stand selling Q5 tacos. Excellent. One taco per person, giving us a healthy Q10 buffer for the rest of the night. (Q7.5 = USD1)
We wander around Flores some more. On maybe our sixth lap of the island, a minivan honks at us. It's the guys from that afternoon, and they tell us that there's a working ATM (cajero)! Get into the van! We'll bring you there! We climb into the van, but my muscles are tense, ready to fight back in case this was some kind of trap and they were actually going to kidnap us or sell us into slavery or something. Fortunately, my fears were unfounded. We arrived at an ATM and got cash! And were returned safely to the hotel.
The next morning we awake at 3am for the sunrise tour. Get to Tikal @ 4.30am, trek through the jungle. Pitch black, puddles on the trail, thank goodness for the flashlight. At one point, the guide says, "Stop here. Look to the right."
Wow. The massive bulk of a Mayan pyramid loomed to the right, and the night sky was full of stars. My astronomy is limited to recognising Orion, and I could see it clearly. The rest, just looked like stars. But it was so cool.
We continue........ then stop at the base of Templo IV. A wooden ladder/staircase, really steep. We start climbing, it's still dark. We climb. and climb. and climb.
All of a sudden, we're at the top. We look down at the jungle canopy, shrouded in night and fog, unbroken except for the tops of more pyramids in the distance. There's a faint glow on the horizon. Everyone in the group (maybe 20 people) settle on the steps. The guide says to please keep silent. More groups arrive, and more groups still. In the end, I think there were at least 125 people crammed on the steps at the top.
The sky grows gradually brighter. We can make out the lake that Flores is on, Lago Peten Itza, 50km away. We see the fog starting to clear-- a bit more of the forest is visible. The occassional bird squawk, and gentle whirs and shutters of digital cameras. Good times.
The sky is black, then blue, then blue-purple-green-yellow, the mystical mixed rainbow bands that herald the sun's arrival. Everything gradually brightens.... I get a little bored. Kinda tired... was up at 3am, afterall....
Suddenly, there was the sun! A brilliant orange ball glaring balefully from the top of Templo III in the distance. We try to take pictures but there were just bright streaks of white on the LCD screen. After taking such a long time to appear, the sun was in somewhat of a hurry. At first it was just a round crest, but it quickly became a semi circle, then more, till finally it burst out from the top of Templo III, Apollo in all his glory. That day was Dec 21, winter solstice. The mayans had built their temples so that on this day every year, sunrise frm Templo IV was exactly at the summit of Templo III. A day before or after, and the alighment would be destroyed. More info on Tikal's pyramids and it's winter solstice sunrises can be found here, an exceedingly informative and interesting website by Vincent Malmstrom at Dartmouth.
There's so much more to say about Tikal, but the sunrise was clearly the most spectacular event that day. In the interests of time I'm going to be brief. Basically, 2 main thoughts:
1) there are so many birds. With the naked eye, and better with our guide's Leico binocs, we saw: red falcons, weaver birds, toucans (brilliant colors), and the rare red toucans. We also saw a spider monkey and many coatis. Click here for a guide to Tikal's fauna, with pictures. The tour guide also talked a lot about the flora: spanish moss (used a lot in navidad), allspice (cooking, treat stomach problems), chiclet tree (sticky sap used to bind the limestone of the buildings, now for chewing gum).
2) Standing in the middle of the main plaza, flanked by Temples I and II, with the Grand Acropolis ahead.... It just feels so surreal. These things were built TWO MILLENIAS AGO. By people who had planned this so carefully with the sun and the stars and the planets, people who thought that cone-shaped heads and cross-eyes were beautiful. It was simply mind boggling.
Ok. Nevermind. We get to Sta Elena and transfer to a minivan at a gas station. I think this was also a bit of a setup. The minivan guys were affiliated with some travel agency, and tried to bring us all to this one hotel, and kept asking us to take their Tikal tour. Tikal was a great Mayan city, and the restored ruins is THE place to go near Flores. Eujin highly recommended the Tikal sunrise tour, so we signed up for that. But first we needed to get $$ frm the ATM.
The long line outside the ATM shd have alerted us that something was wrong. In fact, the entire Guatemala was facing a huge problem: it was near Christmas and the high tourist season, and Everybody needed cash. There was a nationwide ATM crash crisis where most ATMs were out of cash, or not working, or working erratically. We tried 5-6 different ATMs (there were only 6 atms in the entire town), and no money. We were so screwed.
We had maybe 100 Quetzales total. The hotel cost Q80. That means Q20 for dinner till the banks open in the morning. A meal at any restaurant costs at least Q35. We were so screwed. We wandered around Flores, which is a tiny island walkable in 15mins, looking for food. We finally found Parque Central, which had a taco stand selling Q5 tacos. Excellent. One taco per person, giving us a healthy Q10 buffer for the rest of the night. (Q7.5 = USD1)
We wander around Flores some more. On maybe our sixth lap of the island, a minivan honks at us. It's the guys from that afternoon, and they tell us that there's a working ATM (cajero)! Get into the van! We'll bring you there! We climb into the van, but my muscles are tense, ready to fight back in case this was some kind of trap and they were actually going to kidnap us or sell us into slavery or something. Fortunately, my fears were unfounded. We arrived at an ATM and got cash! And were returned safely to the hotel.
The next morning we awake at 3am for the sunrise tour. Get to Tikal @ 4.30am, trek through the jungle. Pitch black, puddles on the trail, thank goodness for the flashlight. At one point, the guide says, "Stop here. Look to the right."
Wow. The massive bulk of a Mayan pyramid loomed to the right, and the night sky was full of stars. My astronomy is limited to recognising Orion, and I could see it clearly. The rest, just looked like stars. But it was so cool.
We continue........ then stop at the base of Templo IV. A wooden ladder/staircase, really steep. We start climbing, it's still dark. We climb. and climb. and climb.
All of a sudden, we're at the top. We look down at the jungle canopy, shrouded in night and fog, unbroken except for the tops of more pyramids in the distance. There's a faint glow on the horizon. Everyone in the group (maybe 20 people) settle on the steps. The guide says to please keep silent. More groups arrive, and more groups still. In the end, I think there were at least 125 people crammed on the steps at the top.
The sky grows gradually brighter. We can make out the lake that Flores is on, Lago Peten Itza, 50km away. We see the fog starting to clear-- a bit more of the forest is visible. The occassional bird squawk, and gentle whirs and shutters of digital cameras. Good times.
The sky is black, then blue, then blue-purple-green-yellow, the mystical mixed rainbow bands that herald the sun's arrival. Everything gradually brightens.... I get a little bored. Kinda tired... was up at 3am, afterall....
Suddenly, there was the sun! A brilliant orange ball glaring balefully from the top of Templo III in the distance. We try to take pictures but there were just bright streaks of white on the LCD screen. After taking such a long time to appear, the sun was in somewhat of a hurry. At first it was just a round crest, but it quickly became a semi circle, then more, till finally it burst out from the top of Templo III, Apollo in all his glory. That day was Dec 21, winter solstice. The mayans had built their temples so that on this day every year, sunrise frm Templo IV was exactly at the summit of Templo III. A day before or after, and the alighment would be destroyed. More info on Tikal's pyramids and it's winter solstice sunrises can be found here, an exceedingly informative and interesting website by Vincent Malmstrom at Dartmouth.
There's so much more to say about Tikal, but the sunrise was clearly the most spectacular event that day. In the interests of time I'm going to be brief. Basically, 2 main thoughts:
1) there are so many birds. With the naked eye, and better with our guide's Leico binocs, we saw: red falcons, weaver birds, toucans (brilliant colors), and the rare red toucans. We also saw a spider monkey and many coatis. Click here for a guide to Tikal's fauna, with pictures. The tour guide also talked a lot about the flora: spanish moss (used a lot in navidad), allspice (cooking, treat stomach problems), chiclet tree (sticky sap used to bind the limestone of the buildings, now for chewing gum).
2) Standing in the middle of the main plaza, flanked by Temples I and II, with the Grand Acropolis ahead.... It just feels so surreal. These things were built TWO MILLENIAS AGO. By people who had planned this so carefully with the sun and the stars and the planets, people who thought that cone-shaped heads and cross-eyes were beautiful. It was simply mind boggling.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Guatemala trip report part 1: Cancun n Chetumal
One day Charmaine emails me to ask what I'm doing for winter break. I told her probably nothing-- last year I stayed in Stanford, did jigsaw puzzles, and felt sorry for myself (refer to Dec 2005 posts). So she insisted that we go on holiday. Peru was too expensive, we settled on Guatemala, after consultation with Eujin and Serene, 2 very well-travelled S'poreans at Stanford. Check out Eujin's website here.
As with all my trips, we didn't book any package tour, didn't get advanced accomodations. My preparation consisted of
1) buying and reading the lonely planet guide to 'Yucatan, Belize and Guatemala'
2) borrowing and commiting to memory the first 3 chapters of Lisa's spanish book [introductions and finding lost luggage; parts of a hotel room and how to ask for one; getting directions]
3) spending time on the lonely planet online travel forum
We had a 6.30 am flight to Cancun frm San Jose Airport (SJC). We were late, and both check in and security lines were long. I was consciously trying to keep my heartrate down... We rushed to the gate-- only to find that everyone was still waiting. Apparently, it had been a cold night. There was ice on the wings, and the only de-icer had broken down. The entire airport was waiting for the sun to come up, to melt the ice. Fantastic. I nearly gave up right then. Won't it be so nice to just stay at Stanford for Christmas? Lisa's fiancee Daniel was going to visit, they were planning a ski trip..... Charmaine of course found the whole thing hilariously funny. She's such a bundle of efferverscent joy.
We finally get to Cancun at 9pm, after delays and re-routes. And early next morning hopped a 6hr bus south to Chetumal, on the border of Mexico/Belize/Guatemala. It was a very nice ADO bus. Air-con, comfortable reclining seats, movies in Spanish (Narnia, Wedding Crashers)... ah. this trip wasn't too bad.
We get to Chetumal, and open our guidebook. Good, the bus terminal is near everything-- the mayan museum, the hotels.... We walk confidently out of the terminal and try to orientate ourselves based on our map. Unfortunately, there are no street signs. Chpt 3 of the book didn't cover how to ask for street signs. No one speaks English. We wander around with our backpacks. There's a budding high school band practising 'Oh When the Saints Go Marching In' in the park. They really need the practice. Finally, we just chose a hotel from the guidebook, and asked someone where it was. Bingo. They gestured in one direction. They seemed to think that it was really far away. They suggested we take a taxi. According to the guidebook, this hotel was 2 blocks frm the terminal. We decided to walk.
1 km later and no hotel, we realised that something was wrong. Closer scrutiny of the map and the text revealed that there were in fact TWO bus terminals. The main one (that we were at) was 2 km north of the center. AH.ahem... at least we were getting a lot of exercise. A lot of very hot exercise.
Suffice to say, we eventually got to the centro, and found the hotel in the guidebook. We wanted the cheapest possible room-- no TV, no aircon. The woman insisted that all was full, only the most expensive rooms available. This apparently, is a common ploy. We had no idea how to respond to that. Not covered in either chpts 1, 2 nor 3. So in the end we paid more for the better room. Later that night, watching spanish dubbed cartoons of 'chocolate boy and marshmellow girl', and 'sponge bob', we wondered if we'd made the right choice.
The Museo de Cultura Maya in Chetumal was the main reason for our stop. It had replicas of many pyramids from various sites, and interesting exhibits on their social hierarchy, astronomy/religion, thoughts about the afterlife etc.
I really liked their Ceiba Tree exhibit: For the Maya, the Tree of Life, called Yaxche, is traditionally a Ceiba tree. This is a tall tree with large buttressed roots, a remarkably straight trunk, and a high horizontal crown. The roots are said to shelter bats, symbolic of the underworld. The trunk teems with insect life, and attracts the animals and birds that feed on them. The crown spreads wide over the jungle canopy, often with four branches that would suggest the four cardinal directions that are so significant to the Maya. The eagles that roost there represent the celestial realm.
The Museum had a replica of Yaxche that stretched through all 3 levels of the building. The top was the heavens, the middle the world of men, and the bottom level had an underworld exhibit.
As with all my trips, we didn't book any package tour, didn't get advanced accomodations. My preparation consisted of
1) buying and reading the lonely planet guide to 'Yucatan, Belize and Guatemala'
2) borrowing and commiting to memory the first 3 chapters of Lisa's spanish book [introductions and finding lost luggage; parts of a hotel room and how to ask for one; getting directions]
3) spending time on the lonely planet online travel forum
We had a 6.30 am flight to Cancun frm San Jose Airport (SJC). We were late, and both check in and security lines were long. I was consciously trying to keep my heartrate down... We rushed to the gate-- only to find that everyone was still waiting. Apparently, it had been a cold night. There was ice on the wings, and the only de-icer had broken down. The entire airport was waiting for the sun to come up, to melt the ice. Fantastic. I nearly gave up right then. Won't it be so nice to just stay at Stanford for Christmas? Lisa's fiancee Daniel was going to visit, they were planning a ski trip..... Charmaine of course found the whole thing hilariously funny. She's such a bundle of efferverscent joy.
We finally get to Cancun at 9pm, after delays and re-routes. And early next morning hopped a 6hr bus south to Chetumal, on the border of Mexico/Belize/Guatemala. It was a very nice ADO bus. Air-con, comfortable reclining seats, movies in Spanish (Narnia, Wedding Crashers)... ah. this trip wasn't too bad.
We get to Chetumal, and open our guidebook. Good, the bus terminal is near everything-- the mayan museum, the hotels.... We walk confidently out of the terminal and try to orientate ourselves based on our map. Unfortunately, there are no street signs. Chpt 3 of the book didn't cover how to ask for street signs. No one speaks English. We wander around with our backpacks. There's a budding high school band practising 'Oh When the Saints Go Marching In' in the park. They really need the practice. Finally, we just chose a hotel from the guidebook, and asked someone where it was. Bingo. They gestured in one direction. They seemed to think that it was really far away. They suggested we take a taxi. According to the guidebook, this hotel was 2 blocks frm the terminal. We decided to walk.
1 km later and no hotel, we realised that something was wrong. Closer scrutiny of the map and the text revealed that there were in fact TWO bus terminals. The main one (that we were at) was 2 km north of the center. AH.ahem... at least we were getting a lot of exercise. A lot of very hot exercise.
Suffice to say, we eventually got to the centro, and found the hotel in the guidebook. We wanted the cheapest possible room-- no TV, no aircon. The woman insisted that all was full, only the most expensive rooms available. This apparently, is a common ploy. We had no idea how to respond to that. Not covered in either chpts 1, 2 nor 3. So in the end we paid more for the better room. Later that night, watching spanish dubbed cartoons of 'chocolate boy and marshmellow girl', and 'sponge bob', we wondered if we'd made the right choice.
The Museo de Cultura Maya in Chetumal was the main reason for our stop. It had replicas of many pyramids from various sites, and interesting exhibits on their social hierarchy, astronomy/religion, thoughts about the afterlife etc.
I really liked their Ceiba Tree exhibit: For the Maya, the Tree of Life, called Yaxche, is traditionally a Ceiba tree. This is a tall tree with large buttressed roots, a remarkably straight trunk, and a high horizontal crown. The roots are said to shelter bats, symbolic of the underworld. The trunk teems with insect life, and attracts the animals and birds that feed on them. The crown spreads wide over the jungle canopy, often with four branches that would suggest the four cardinal directions that are so significant to the Maya. The eagles that roost there represent the celestial realm.
The Museum had a replica of Yaxche that stretched through all 3 levels of the building. The top was the heavens, the middle the world of men, and the bottom level had an underworld exhibit.
Monday, January 01, 2007
2007 en Cancun. Feliz Año!
Life is good. Am currently in the air-conditioned reception area of a hostel in Cancun, checking internet. Have not been in lab for 2 weeks, and I don´t care. I´ll care when I get home tomorrow.
Guatemala trip report to follow sometime this year.
crap I forgot to pay my vehicle registration again. so much for new year resolutions. This year, I resolve not to make any more resolutions.
I need to learn more Spanish. Meanwhile, never underestimate the power of the ´smile and nod´strategy.
Feliz Año to all.
Guatemala trip report to follow sometime this year.
crap I forgot to pay my vehicle registration again. so much for new year resolutions. This year, I resolve not to make any more resolutions.
I need to learn more Spanish. Meanwhile, never underestimate the power of the ´smile and nod´strategy.
Feliz Año to all.
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