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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

paradigm shift

I've always thought that polygamy is the most evolutionarily advantageous strategy an organism can pursue. Isn't the meaning of life to produce as many offspring as possible? However, I was reading 'Monkeyluv' by Robert Sapolsky, and he mentioned an experiment done with fruitflies: It showed that flies that were forced to be monogamous outbred the polygamous flies. This is because polygamous flies had to evolve strategies like toxic semen (males) and toxin neutralizers (females) in order to pass on their genes. [Male flies had toxic semen to kill off other sperm, females had to neutralize the semen so they don't die from the toxins] Hence monogamous flies, who didn't have to waste time playing these stupid games, could spend more time making babies.

Reading this made me slightly confused. Afterall, isn't evolution all about Genetic diversity; Competition between genes; Survival of the fittest etc? If you're monogamous, how do you know that your chosen mate is the best fit for your genes? I guess living longer and producing more offspring compensates somewhat for this. Better quality of life for you and your kids, maybe? Screw the species and the diversity of the gene pool.

Sapolsky also suggests a reason for the evolution of all this toxic strategies in polygamous species: It just takes one dude to evolve toxic sperm to give him an advantage over the others, and soon everyone else is also making toxins, and the females are like, 'Crap, now we have to neutralise the damn things.' I guess in this case, making love is analogous to making war.

interesting idea

Xiao mei sez that there's this S'porean girl who blogged about some guy. This guy was complaining about S'poreans over 40 being marginalised by the society and the govt. Apparently she ended the post with "Please, get out of my elite uncaring face."

So S'pore, being a small place where everyone reads everyones' blog, is in a furor about this post: It reflects how our youth are so disdainful and privileged etc. And it's even juicier because she's the daughter of an MP.. *gasp*-- the offspring of our ministers don't care about the populace!!

Because I'm a scheming capitalist, I immediately thought about implications and ways to make $$ off this. After her post, her blog must receive hundreds of hit a day! Imagine the advertising $$!!! I too should post terrible incendiary remarks on my blog!!! But what can I say? The whole "I'm so smart and elitist" angle has already been taken, I don't want to be a copycat.

Xiao mei suggests saying something racist. In Singapore, that is death. It's worse than joining an opposition party. You'll probably find yourself on the next ship to Malaysia. Or Timbaktu. So.. I should say something racist, preferably including crude sexual references. That should be sufficient to exile my entire family from S'pore for at least 18 generations. Maybe more.

Things that make me panic

1. going to Guatemala with only my xiao mei, and with neither of us knowing spanish
2. other people graduating
3. me not graduating

ok.. I guess #1 is not a huge source of panic. I just need to learn some Spanish. Will go to the I-center. they have conversation classes on Tuesday nights. And it's free! =)

Meanwhile, am reading up on travelling in Central America. Sounds like fun. Chicken buses and Mayan ruins. comments/suggestions/travel tips will be greatly appreciated.

An important question arose when I was talking to my roommates tonight: Do Giraffes have vocal cords? I searched around a bit online and the consensus is that they CAN make noises. but do so rarely. However, the issue of the absence/presence of vocal cords was not convincingly addressed. Wikipedia also says that male giraffes engage in homosexual behavior:

"In one area 94% of mounting incidents were of a homosexual nature. The proportion of same sex courtships varies between 30 and 75%, and at any given time one in twenty males will be engaged in affectionate necking behavior with another male. Females, on the other hand, only appear to have same sex relations in 1% of mounting incidents."

I need to drink more water. I think I'm chronically dehydrated.

I want to sleep for a long long time

hm. interesting idea of Fen's-- to fill my site with porn. It'll be the world's first porn site without annoying pop ups. People will flock to it, and traffic will increase, and bam! Money.

There is only one small, almost insignificant problem-- I don't have any porn.

But I'm sure that you, my lovely readers, are more than willing to send me your stuff. Only tasteful ones, please. preferably NOT involving barnyard animals. other types of animals...? I'll think about it.

I will, of course, set it up as a separate site, so that readers with more ah.. delicate sensibilities will not be offended.

I'm thinking of going to London over Christmas to visit Kenneth n Peiyee. does anyone wanna come? free housing... am flexible with dates... A spring trip is also possible. Mebbe I'll hop over to Ireland while I'm there. Ever since I've heard about it I've always wanted to go to the top of the Guinness factory, to drink Guinness and look out over Dublin. And I wonder if they speak in Limericks in Limerick? That's Got to be pretty mind-wrecking.

I've decided to stop drinking alcohol for a while. Maybe a month... yups... today is a good day to start. Oct 1st - Nov 1st. this is because I've noticed that I've built up a greater tolerance for EtOH. Had 4-5 mixed drinks last night and hardly felt anything. Back in the day that'll either have me flat out on the floor, or at least jumping around with the immense urge to start singing. So. Maybe if I stop all EtOH intake for a while my tolerance will go back down. Plus I'm sure my liver will be happy. It's good to keep my liver happy.... Happy Liver. Lucky the happy liver. What a great idea for a children's TV show.

Right. Clearly, it's time for bed.

Gawp

So. I was thinking about selling advertising on my blog, just as an exercise to figure out first hand how all this web-advertising stuff works. I went to this targeted-ad website called text-link ads, and submitted my blog for consideration. And they rejected it. wah. I'm so crushed. They said my blog did not have high enough traffic. Which I'm sure is true. The person who reads this blog the MOST must be me. And even then I read it only about once or twice a week, for entertainment. (It must be the height of narcissism--- for me to derive this much satisfaction from reading my own thoughts)

Anyways. I looked that some of the highest earners on that text link system, and they were all very focused blogs, dealing specifically with issues like technology, entrepreneurship... or Maine football scores. [further blow to my ego- that a website about football scores earns all that $$$]

I was trying very hard to think about how I can make my blog more focused in order to increase traffic, and also mebbe giving myself something concrete to write about, rather then just random reviews about books, movies and hiking, and whatever rant I happen to obsess about. But I dunno what I should write about that people will want to read!!!

Possibilities:

1) Immunology -- but who wants to read about immunology? Even I can't stand it sometimes.
2) How I manage to screw up in lab -- eg. yesterday I forgot to add antibiotic to my bacterial plates, so I got like 5 billion colonies in every plate, including my negative control
3) Stanford
4) Hopkins
5) Singapore
6) How to get free food--- hhmm... maybe revive the Stanford free food mailing list
7) Random startup ideas
8) how to earn $$ as a student in Stanford-- including all the psych experiments I take part in.
9) Things to do in the Bay Area when not in lab
10) How to take over the world

Ok, I'm gonna take a poll. Please vote for your favorite topic via the comments section. or suggest your own. As long as it's something I can write about (eg. How to play tennis well -- is NOT a good topic; How to avoid getting killed while riding your bike around Stanford-- is a better one)....

Garrapata State Park

I can see!!!

well.... not 20/20 yet. It's supposed to take a while. but I see well enough to drive! and read! and write emails! and blog! **happy dance**

am happy enough to take back all the stuff I said about Joe. I'm sure he's.. um... doing the best he can.

Last night was pretty bad. I woke up after a nap and it felt like multiple sharp objects were lodged in my eyes. Was tearing like crazy, couldn't open eyes, couldn't look into the light... *panic* Am really thankful that Lisa n Shaowei were there for me.

But when I woke up in the morning it felt great!

1) the multiple sharp objects had disappeared
2) I could SEE!!
3) I could SEE!!

Things still look a little fuzzy, bright lights hurt, and when I try to roll my eyes to the extreme left or right there's a little twinge of discomfort. The sunglasses/goggles they gave me to protect my eyes frm dust are Massive. They take up half my face. I look like those Jap anime characters. Went to Safeway to get milk just now and kept my sunglasses on the whole time because the lights there were incredibly bright. Felt like a failed movie star wannabe. Am convinced that the cashier was trying not to laugh.

Yesterday I was in the lunch rm, reading the Arthitis medical report. It's something doctors give to patients.. There was this article in there that touched on Assisted Pain Alteration. or something like that. Basically the idea is this: patients listened to a tape of someone asking them to visualise their pain, and to describe it: what does it look like? what color is it? Then patients were told to imagine their pain changing, becoming less... um.. evil/painful.

Amazingly, the grp of patients that listened to the tape described their pain as less severe afterwards, and by the end of the study (a couple weeks) described their pain as manageable. The control grp of patients were given the same medications etc without the assisted pain visualization thing and just told to record their medications. Their pain remained the same.

So last night after I took some medications/eye drops etc and was trying to sleep, I tried to visualise my pain. Immediately I thought of it as a black devil-like creature with a very sharp staff/triton thing which it was poking into my eyes. So I thought of it putting down the stupid triton, and sitting down to meditate. Like the chinese saying: Fang(4) xia(4) tu(2) dao(1), li(4) di(4) cheng(2) fuo(2) [loosely translated as: put down your sabre and become a buddha]. It was actually quite an amusing exercise and I think helped me to some extent. Highly recommended for people trying to deal with pain.

In-sight.

I'm going for LASIK tomorrow!!

still don't quite believe it. I've gone for the consultations, had machines measure stuff, talked to the doctor, talked to friends (ie Lisa n Qingyuan).... Today I went for the final measurements, and paid my $$. but it hasn't really hit me yet. I'll probably get nervous on the ride to the surgery, and the feeling will slowly escalate right up to the time the Valium takes effect... It's been like that for all my major exams, i think. Am superbly calm until 30mins before it starts, when all the nervousness I've saved up for that special moment hits me with full force.

On my way home frm lab today I was just thinking about how much I've grown to dislike Joe. In the beginning I'll always defend him when people tell me how much they hate him. I'll point to his scientific expertise, and how he sometimes has good reason to act superior and feel that everyone else is a moron, or a slacker, or a slob. But gradually I've come to realise that he doesn't have a right to belittle everybody because he's not that fantastic himself.

Recently he's been giving me crap about how late I come into lab. I admit that I come in late. usually ard 10.30, 11am. but it's not like I have anything to DO in lab right now. I'm waiting on the !#$%! cells and the antibodies that Joe has taken upon himself to produce.

So I said, "I'm sorry I came in late, Joe. Was there anything that you wanted me to help you with?"

"No."

"Oh."

WTF!?! Why is he begrudging me an extra hour of sleep just for me to show up early in lab and yawn in front of my computer? He could at least give me something to do. Actually. I take that back. He wants me to inject mice iv or ip with antibody and bleed them every 6hrs to work out the pharmacokinetics. nice to know, not need to know. Painful for the mice, and for me. But of course, I'm the grad-student-slave. Completely expendable and infinitely obedient.

[mouse-bleeding, btw, involves sticking a small glass tube into the eye socket, in order to pierce the capillary bed behind the eye. I'm terrible at it and both the mouse and me become extremely traumatised. Now think a grp of 5 mice that I have to bleed every fucking 6 hrs. no sooner do they heal that I have to poke them again.]

I wish I was like Ailin. She hates her boss and has no qualms about telling him so. My first instinct was to apologise, when actually I'll be quite happy to hit Joe forcefully in the head with a baseball bat, and then throw myself off a cliff. I think I need to start doing wushu. Taiji is not violent enough to dissipate my destructive energies.

crap. now I need lots of bubble tea to feel normal again.

Others

went hiking today! It is An Event cos I haven't been hiking in a while. =)

went to Henry Coe State Park with the Outing club. Actually, I would highly discourage people frm going there. It was quite a boring hike and the best views could already be had in the parking lot. And there were a lot of steep ups and downs. Tiring on the ups, dangerous on the downs.

The trip leader was this guy called 'V' (nope did not wear a mask), but he walked in the back to make sure no one got lost. So this girl Jane set the pace for most of the hike. Jane is a small little Asian girl. Even smaller than me. But Boy Can She Walk. Off we went, like a rocket. Speeding up the hills like a hot knife thru butter, we conquered the first hill, then the next, and the next... fwah. I never realised how out of shape I've become. I was gasping like a fish outta water (or a mouse under euthanasia) after the first 5 mins, but Jane and Aileen were chatting away as though they were merely strolling in the park.

*still in state of shock*

anyways. am taking inventory of all my stuff cos need to move to new apt. reading this book by Marian Keyes. Irish chick writer. Quite funny. was struck by how she keeps referring to her husband as "Himself". thought this was odd. but then remembered that Luz also referred to Nanguang as 'Him'. Like.. I'll mention a new movie, and Luz will say, "Yeah, I saw it with Him." At first I had to clarify: "Um... by Him u mean Nanguang?"... but after a while I cld safely assume that 'He', 'Him', and 'We' all refer to the same person.

What's the reason for this phenomenon? How come I dun hear guys refering to their partners as 'Her'?

Some possible reasons y some gals do this:
1) They feel some need to deitify their significant other?
2) They forgot his name?

hhmmm..... points to ponder...... =X

actually.. now that they've broken up Luz still avoids all use of His name. Now she calls him 'My Ex'.

Back in Stanford

am staying awake till 11pm so that I (hopefully) sleep all night and don't wake up at 5am. My strategy for combating jet lag. *grin*

It's super hot here in Stanford. Feels hotter than in S'pore! and the air-con in lab is not working too well... heard that in the hospital they couldn't operate becos no AC in the operating theatres!

watched 'I Not Stupid II' on the plane. Lisa recommended it. Said it was good, and made her cry n cry. Immediately I felt that I shdn't watch it. Such a below-the-belt tactic of selling movies-- making people cry n cry. But against my better judgement I did watch it and indeed was induced to cry n cry. Basket. good thing the seat next to me was unoccupied, else so embarassing. Trying to hide my puffy-eyes-runny-nose condition frm the air stewardesses is hard enough. I think I used like, 5 tissues... *sigh*. The movie was ok. I hate having my emotions manipulated so I refuse to say that it's a gd movie. HRMPH. So There.

tried cable skiing on Monday. Quite fun =). but I spent a lot of time swimming and walking (after falling into the water), and I think I got stung by a jellyfish. didn't feel that tired after but my muscles are def sore today.. Will be a lot more fun when/if I get better at it. However, I think downhill skiing/snow boarding is more exciting, becos
1) You can go faster
2) You have more control.

But I guess cable skiing is less scary. You can't accidentally end up at the top of some super steep slope, rigidly staring at the !#$%! mountain of moguls below, trying to summon the courage to take the first plunge....

*grin*. yay skiing.

thots

thinking about how more n more ppl r getting married n having babies n stuff. Gerry was saying how she felt like everyone's doing stuff with their lives and accomplishing things. But I think she's accomplished the most and has come the furthest in our entire HJC class-- she's married n expecting a kid in Feb. !!?!! She also seems secure career-wise.. so really, no reason to feel left behind. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side??

Leonard asked me if I felt worried/left behind. I think he asked me this becos HE's feeling worried. *grin* [Len claims that he is NOT at all worried, and is in fact extremely satisfied with his life]

Shameless plug for leonard: He's a nice, eligible bachelor who will make a considerate husband and doting father. Sweet and pretty girls who live near Dallas, TX (or don't mind relocating to Dallas), pls apply within.

My brother is 21 and sez that he feels old. I guess it's a common emotion for post-army guys-- they come out and feel like in those 2 years the whole world's passed them by?? but he's amazingly still together with Sharon, so I dun think he shd have much to complain about..

me mum is sad becos it seems like Sharon is his 1st priority-- and also becos it seems like Sharon acts as though she SHD be his 1st priority... But then again even when my brother is at home all he does is play computer games, and watch anime. And my parents don't seem to have much to say to him except stuff like "Cut your hair", "When is your uni orientation? Remember to go." and "Eat this."...... actually.... that's pretty much what they say to me too.... I guess they just like having us around. But I'm not exactly sure what we do in our 'family time'. In fact, I'm not exactly sure what the ideal 'family time' should be like. Yet, this doesn't mean that we don't have family ties. Quite the opposite, I'm sure. *sigh*. This whole thing has the potential to become really mushy so I'm going stop now.

Somehow my parents brought home a breadmaking machine. My dad is v. enthusiastic about it and went out to buy yeast. they put in all the ingredients and started the thinggy 3 hrs ago. Unfortunately they didn't read the part of the instructions tt say how u can set the delay-timer to get the bread just-baked at 7am.... so now it's gonna get done at midnight. need to check the machine now to take out the bread... Moral of the story: read the entire manual before starting the !#$$R! machine!!

*update on the bread: didn't put enuff yeast, or water, or both. It turned out to be this hard disc of dough. for our 2nd try dad bought a ready-mixed packet-- just add water. this time it looks, smells, feels and tastes like bread. =)*

Last night we went to the Geylang claypot rice place. It's pretty good, but a little overhyped-- yes yes it's nice, but pocket feel pain lah. dunno if that huge pot of rice is truly worth $23. The chili steamed fish was really fresh, and I like the chili. The softshell-crab was too fried?? too much batter? Hm. not sure how to explain this. It seemed like each piece was just v. crispy batter. ok lah, but can't really taste the crab. Most jap places at Stanford have better crabs in their spider rolls. But I really liked their yam paste (dessert). V. smooth and creamy, and not too sweet.

Louis MacNeice - Prayer before Birth

I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
    club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
    with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
       on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
    to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
       in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
    when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
       my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
          my life when they murder by means of my
             hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
    old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
       frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
           waves call me to folly and the desert calls
             me to doom and the beggar refuses
                my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
    come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
    humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
       would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
          one face, a thing, and against all those
             who would dissipate my entirety, would
                blow me like thistledown hither and
                   thither or hither and thither
                      like water held in the
                         hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.

HOME 2006

since coming home is always such an occasion, feel like have to blog 'bout it. so um... here goes...

First Impression:
Airport looks the same as always. Parents late as usual.

Coming Home:
family moved to new house in the last year. It's located in the maze-like Opera Estate at junction of Bedok/Siglap/Chai Chee. Am not sure how I'll manage to find my way home alone.
Possible ideas:
1) leave a trail of breadcrumbs
2) mount a lighthouse beacon on the roof
3) install a remote-controlled electromagnet at home, and carry around a large chunk of iron.

The house is pretty nice, though. I have my own room, and there's a lot of space. Enough for taiji, i think, but not enough for wushu.

They gave away the dog! to the SPCA. =(. actually, it took me the whole day b4 I noticed that the dog wasn't ard. sad. it was a good dog. amusing. Hairy and sheds all over clothes n furniture, but kinda cute so it was always forgiven...

Maid has left, so we have to do chores now. my mum has some sort of tendonitis in her right wrist, so I'm trying to help with stuff that requires extertion of right-hand. like chopping all the vegetables. and carrying water. and sweeping floor. But mostly during the day I just hide in the air-conditioned study room and play with the computer.... too hot to contemplate going out.

Local Food:
Fabulous. The only reason why I drag myself outta the house. 1st day I had hokkien mee at MP central, next day I had Prawn mee at Joo Chiat. Today I had char kuay teow for lunch n went to some hainanese zi-char place for dinner... have many many other things to eat b4 I can go back.

Family:
the same. everyone seems fairly busy.

Other thoughts:
um. dunno. so far have been slightly successful at avoiding mosquitoes. only get about 5 bites a day, instead of my usual 10-15... I hate mosquitoes. but the ones here are very sneaky. Commando mosquitoes. unseen and unheard.

Have to email more people. Need to see them b4 I go back.

Now that I don't have to work, I'm actually reading more Immunology! strange. last week I couldn't even bring myself to look at science.