This last week everybody in Tocoa has become accustomed to the toques de queda (curfews). On Monday and Tuesday, I was forced to push my night class back to 4 PM, because the toques started at 6 PM. But by the Wednesday the curfew had been pushed back to 10 PM, so I could hold class during regular hours. This week we had begun working on the present progressive verb tense. I am eating, you are sleeping, we are studying, etc. The students had a rudimentary grasp on how the verb tense functioned, but they needed practice on combining the “-ing” with the infinitive, as well as conjugating “be” with the corresponding subject.
I found this game online called Harry Potter. Basically you make one quarter of the group Voldemorts and the other three quarters Harry Potters. The Voldemorts chase the Harry Potters around outside until the Harry Potters are tagged. The Voldemort orders the tagged person to do something (“eat!” “run!” “sleep!” etc.) And they have to perform that action in place, until another Harry Potter approaches them, tags them, and asks, “What are you doing?” The frozen HP tells them, “I am running!” then they are unfrozen, until tagged by another Voldemort.
We’ve played this game for a couple of days as a warm up activity. The kids absolutely love this game and are disappointed when it’s not on the schedule.
A couple of Fridays ago we watched Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I don’t usually show movies in class but this day was an exception. The series is as popular in Honduras as it is in the States, though there is no movie theatre in Tocoa. The place you need to go to see a new movie is in San Pedro Sula, and that is 6 hours away!
Sunday was largely a rainy day. I passed some of the day watching Spanish Fast and the Furious. During a commercial break there was an ad for a cell phone plan with TIGO, the local service provider. They were offering a “Gringo Plan” for people to call the United States. I thought it was pretty funny.
I went to the TIGO center in Tocoa to renew my internet service for July. There was some confusion on my account, and long story short I ended up talking with the branch supervisor. She said she understood the situation I was in but could not help with my account, like how I could not help her get into the United States. It was an interesting exchange of words after that.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Where Does it Hurt?
I spent a large part of my day working on a website I have promised my host brother. He is deeply involved with a local soccer club and asked if I would make a website for the club. So basically I have been fooling around with Adobe Dreamweaver and Photoshop. It isn’t easy to create an attractive website! I haven’t done any work on this software in months, so I spent most of the day relearning both programs. When I get closer to a finished product, I’ll be sure to share it.I haven’t written much about my in-class activities. I will share something we did last Thursday. I have been teaching my students body parts vocabulary (e.g. head, shoulders, knees and toes, so on and so forth). We have played Simon Says, drawn ourselves on poster board, labeling body parts, we even played an ESL rendition of twister.
On Thursday I tried this new activity. Teaching the verb “hurt” to my students, they learned how to say, “my elbow hurts,” or, “my stomach hurts.” Incorporating this into simulation, I had the students pair up. Each turn, they would play rock-paper-scissors to decide the role they would play (doctor or patient). The doctor says, “Where does it hurt?” The student playing the patient responds, “my arm hurts,” or whatever body part depending on a card I would pull from a hat. The doctor would then ask, “Can I help you?” and then would wrap up the arm, or the leg, or the foot in toilet paper. By the end of the class period I was surrounded with young Honduran mummies. It didn’t take that much toilet paper and they all seemed to have a great time.
I was walking home from the centro (town center) in Tocoa today at 6 PM. People were crowding the intersection near my house. At first I thought it was some protest to a 6 PM toque de queda (curfew). This was not the case. An eight-year-old girl walked out into the middle of Calle Chela and was hit by a car. She was thrown several feet upon impact, and suffered a severe bone fracture in her leg. I missed the accident by barely a minute, and the girl was carried to the hospital immediately before I arrived. Most of my neighbors were in tears, as this is a close community. It was an emotional experience; most of them saw the accident happen, including the four-year-old son of my host sister.
Calle Chela is a very busy and dangerous road. Traffic laws outside of the States aren’t as strict, and this served as a harsh reminder of that fact. Drivers here have no worry of traffic police, or speeding tickets, and have only their own discretion to govern their driving habits. These laws become merely suggestion.
I found out tonight that the young girl is going to live, and keep her leg.
I taught some friends tonight how to play Presidents and Assholes. If you are not familiar with the game it is a lightning paced card game popular in most universities across the country. Here is a link explaining the game. I tentatively renamed it Presidentes y Tontos, mostly because we were playing with a twelve year old. They were fascinated with the game, and even more so with the titles bestowed upon the winners and losers.
If you don’t know how to play, we can play when I come home.
Manuel Zelaya, the Honduran President exiled one week ago, is arriving back in Honduras. I have taken the advice of a friend here and will be spending the day at home. Nobody here knows what’s going to happen tomorrow, so I’m going to lay low.
Happy Fourth of July
Saturday, July 4, 2009
First Independence Day Abroad
Saturday was the first day in nearly a week without a six o’clock curfew. Since Monday everyone in Tocoa (as well as Colón Department) has been forced to be inside their houses because of an order of the new government under Roberto Micheletti. People have told me that the curfew started at 6 PM in Colón Department rather than 9 Pm for the rest of the country because A) Colón is locally know to suffer from a high level of delinquency (e.g. robbery, assault, etc.); and B) Colón department is thought to be a Zelaya stronghold.
Through government order, four constitutional rights have been suspended to assist curfew enforcement. Among those suspended are the right to see a judge within twenty-four hours of arrest, and the right not to be arrested without charge.
I had seen quite a few police vehicles on Sunday and Monday. People were picked up by local police and carried to the local jail, and released the next day. My neighbors, who seemed to at first defy the curfew on a nightly basis, have been spending their evenings indoors after 3 young women were arrested on their own front porch.
It has been quiet since Tuesday. I have not seen any police trucks on Calle Chela, though this is because I have not been looking for them, being accustomed to the curfew. On Friday afternoon there were rumors swirling around Tocoa that there would be a twenty-four hour curfew, in conjunction with Exiled Mel Zelaya’s return to Honduras. I thought a twenty-four curfew sounded crazy, and was especially skeptical, because curfew rumors had been spreading throughout the week.
It turned out to be false. Saturday is the first day without a 6 PM curfew since Tuesday. I had no class to teach, so I slept in, taking advantage of the weekend. This is the first Fourth of July outside of the United States for me. It is just another day in Tocoa, aside from the political climate. Surprisingly, many Hondurans are aware that this is the American day of Independence, though I have been asked several times from whom did the colonies declare their independence.
Through government order, four constitutional rights have been suspended to assist curfew enforcement. Among those suspended are the right to see a judge within twenty-four hours of arrest, and the right not to be arrested without charge.
I had seen quite a few police vehicles on Sunday and Monday. People were picked up by local police and carried to the local jail, and released the next day. My neighbors, who seemed to at first defy the curfew on a nightly basis, have been spending their evenings indoors after 3 young women were arrested on their own front porch.
It has been quiet since Tuesday. I have not seen any police trucks on Calle Chela, though this is because I have not been looking for them, being accustomed to the curfew. On Friday afternoon there were rumors swirling around Tocoa that there would be a twenty-four hour curfew, in conjunction with Exiled Mel Zelaya’s return to Honduras. I thought a twenty-four curfew sounded crazy, and was especially skeptical, because curfew rumors had been spreading throughout the week.
It turned out to be false. Saturday is the first day without a 6 PM curfew since Tuesday. I had no class to teach, so I slept in, taking advantage of the weekend. This is the first Fourth of July outside of the United States for me. It is just another day in Tocoa, aside from the political climate. Surprisingly, many Hondurans are aware that this is the American day of Independence, though I have been asked several times from whom did the colonies declare their independence.
Monday, June 29, 2009
golpe+1
(Advisory: Some national and international channels are deactivated by the order of the current government....)This morning a protest formed on the bridge leading out of Tocoa. The bridge where this took place is the central vein of transportation between La Ceiba and Tocoa. My host brother told me he saw 500 people on the bridge. By the afternoon the police had set up a barricade 2 blocks away, so that no one else could join the protesters.
I went to a local internet cafe today to print some worksheets for class. My normal cafe was closed, which struck me as odd becasue they are usually open seven days a week. I walked around the corner to another cafe that is somewhat closer to my gym. It was closed too. It became apparent that the internet was shut down in town, for at least today.
The ATM's were out of order too. I tried to access my checking account, but could not. Communication lines have been severed.
My students came to school, asking me if we were going to have class. This political crisis is affecting all levels of daily life, young and hold. It feels so strange, everything being upset by politics. I never realized how lucky we in the states are for having a stable country.
Tonight will be the second night of curfews in Tocoa, and all of Honduras. In Spanish they are called toques de queda. After class an eight year old student asked me how she was going to get home. She lives two blocks away from the school, but the curfew had already begun. I told her I would go with her so she would feel safe. As we left I noticed there were some police officers standing a block away. While leery, I continued walking her home.
Suddenly my neighbor, a girl my age, approached us from her house. She told me that I should go back to my home(+school), becasue she was worried I would have problems with the police. As my neighbor is also a teacher, she is well aquainted with this student and brought her home.
I walked back to the family compound, and joined my host mom. She was sitting in the patio, overlooking calle chela, one of the main drags in Tocoa. Within two minutes we saw two cars drive by on an otherwise empty street. The first was a police department pickup truck. In the bed were five soldiers, and 3 civilians or so. The second was a civilian van, being driven by a soldier, and filled with more civilians, at least 6 or so. These people were all rounded up by the military, and were being taken to the local jail to spend the night.
About ten minutes later another police pickup drove by my neighbor's house. There were about 8 people hanging out in their patio. The soldiers told them to go to bed. The mother of the house, a Garífuna woman in her mid-forties replied, "I'll go to bed when I am tired!"
The soldiers got out of the truck, and then chased them all back into their house, six girls screaming. Satisfied, they got back in their truck and left. While those girls stayed inside for the rest of the night, I couldn't but help notice, that I could see faces peering out of most windows facing calle chela. Slowly, the young people crept out of their homes to sit on front stoops, spying the goings on of the almost nonexistent traffic.
I stayed outside for another 30 minutes, hoping to catch another glimpse of this. All I did see was an old man biking home, and a teenager dancing in the street, testing fate as teenagers do so well. He was hooting and whooping, dancing, and had the whole block as his audience. He danced for about 3 minutes, then wandered home.
Several channels are blocked on the television. I can't find CNN. Maybe I've got the wrong channel, but I can't find it. I've attached a photo that shows a message from the Honduran cable company based out of Ceiba. The photo pretty much sums it up (I'm lucky to have a mobil usb internet attachment). People out here are wondering what's going on in Tegucigalpa and the rest of the country. We're waiting for for things to get back to normal. Wednesday, some tell me.
Manuel Zelaya declared today that he is coming back to Honduras on Thursday to finish his term.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
US Embassy
I just wanted to quickly share all of the links I've been following from the US embassy in Tegucigalpa:
http://honduras.usembassy.gov/acs_pubannounc2009.html
http://honduras.usembassy.gov/acs_pubannounc2009.html
Thoughts on the Coup from Tocoa
Hey all. I'm doing fine, despite all of the news you have been hearing this weekend. Let me fill you in on my take of what's going on in Honduras right now.
Manuel Zelaya was elected the President of Honduras in 2005, from the Liberal Party of Honduras (PLH). Since then he has been seen as an ally of Hugo Chávez and the recently formed ALBA (Bolivarian Alliance for the people of our America).
One interesting part of the Honduran constitution is that it only allows a president to serve one term. I'm also told that there are only three presidential candidates in every race. A short time ago, I began to hear about this political movement called Cuarta Urna. In Spanish, this means fourth ballot box. What I understand is that the political objective of Cuarta Urna is to change the Honduran constitution. Many believe that Cuarta Urna is a political means for Manuel Zelaya to be elected a second time. Furthermore, opponents of Cuarta Urna infer that this movement is ultimately to achieve the indefinite reelection of a president.
Last week, tensions in Honduras rose as Zelaya was planning on executing a national referendum, or encuesta, scheduled for Sunday, June 28, 2009 (today). It was to be a yes/no inquiry to see if the Honduran people were interested in making changes to the constitution. But on Thursday, the head of the Army, Romeo Vásquez, was fired by Zelaya for not logistically supporting the referendum with the army.
I heard Vásquez refused to help because the Supreme Court and the National Congress declared the referendum to be illegal. It would have been illegal, because national referendums cannot be held 180 days before or after an election. As the next presidential election is this year, they said that any referendum would be illegal. The Supreme Court then ordered Zelaya to reinstall Romeo Vásquez.
A father of one of my students, told me Thursday night that he suspected a coup d'état was in the works. He advised me not to go downtown in Tocoa for the next four days, or go near any large groups of people, especially because I am a foreigner (target?).
His words were almost proved correct on Friday morning, as I was told me that a coup d'état almost happened on Thursday night, except that both parties (President vs. Congress & Courts) received a phone call from a mediator. Was it Hillary Clinton?
Friday and Saturday were tense in Tocoa, and around Honduras in general. Zelaya and his supporters mobbed the military airbase and took all of the ballot boxes for the referendum. This way they could distribute the materials for the referendum on Sunday. There was no resistance by the military.
Last night, I went out with some friends for a beer. I sat with three Tocoans, listening to their concerns for the future of their country. There had been an article in the local newspaper, La Prensa, that Nicaraguan soldiers were infiltrating the border in civilian clothes. Even worse, Honduras' neighbors on all sides were mobilizing at the border. It seemed that everyone was expecting the worst as referendum day drew near.
It seemed quiet in Tocoa last night. Even though there are less than 30,000 people living in Tocoa, at least the main drag is bustling around 1 or 2 a.m. Everybody apparently decided to stay home. It probably would have been prudent of me to stay home too, but I guess part of me found going out to be exciting, in a twisted way. Don't confuse my feelings, I want the most peaceful and democratic solution for this country. But I am pursuing a political science degree, after all. It feels like I'm experiencing history. It might be a misplaced fascination with a volatile political scene, but hey, I'm already here, right?
Sunday, June 28, was to be the day of the referendum. I woke up at 8:30 a.m. to the sound of my AC going down. My host brother told me that the military had shut down the electricity in all of Honduras for the day. I used the last 15 minutes of battery to log online and discover that Zelaya had been arrested and expelled from Honduras. This meant that the military went ahead with the coup.
You can read about what happened elsewhere in Honduras, but I'll share what I know about Tocoa. People here were fairly certain that the electricity was deliberately shut down by the military. Maybe they did it to stop the people watch reports on TV before they could issue a report. Around 10 a.m., my host brother saw a small airplane dropping leaflets on Tocoa. I eventually saw one, and it stated that the referendum was illegal, that Cuarta Urna was illegal, and for everyone to stay in their homes. I'll try to get a copy of that leaflet up tomorrow.
The referendum voting places were to be the local schools in Tocoa. The ballot boxes were seized, and the referendum canceled. I didn't go downtown, but some in my host family were running errands. They told me that there was a gathering in the central park of Tocoa, a demonstration probably. Additionally, these demonstrators were surrounded by soldiers, that were guarding the park and town. Local businesses shut down early on Sunday, out of fear of a mass protest.
By noon, the power was back, and not a moment too soon. The Confederations Cup final was about to start! I laid low for most of the day, watched the U.S. national team choke during the second half, eat lunch, and watch Interim President Roberto Micheletti get sworn in by the national congress.
Many Hondurans are struggling with the definition of what happened here today. Was it a coup, or wasn't it? A lot of people in Honduras don't think it was a coup, since they transitioned to a new civilian government so quickly. They saw it more as a replacement of the president. The military ousted Zelaya early this morning, but the National Congress claims they acted under their orders. Micheletti is apparently Zelaya's replacement for the next six months. What more, their from the same party! So this struggle between Zelaya and the other two branches of government extend to his own party and former political allies. It isn't seen as a cut and dry coup from here in Honduras. Many here told me they were afraid that Zelaya wanted to rule indefinitely, and do the same in Honduras as was done in Venezuela.
A lot of Tocoans do not believe Zelaya's accusation that the U.S. embassy has been supporting a coup. Many actually see the U.S. government as a better ally than Chávez, who is perceived as a threat to the stability of Honduras. Hondurans are looking to the U.S. for support, especially as a counterweight to Venezuela. We will see how the international community interacts with this new government.
People in Tocoa want support. They are going to try to make Monday a normal day. Businesses are to be open and school will be in session. People want it to normal here, but are all too aware of the tension, and too unaware of the future. I'm holding class tomorrow, but can't really count on anything.
Let's hope for the best.
UPDATE:
Before I go to sleep for the night, I just read online that a nationwide curfew has been imposed for Sunday and Monday each night spanning from 9PM to 6 AM.
Manuel Zelaya was elected the President of Honduras in 2005, from the Liberal Party of Honduras (PLH). Since then he has been seen as an ally of Hugo Chávez and the recently formed ALBA (Bolivarian Alliance for the people of our America).
One interesting part of the Honduran constitution is that it only allows a president to serve one term. I'm also told that there are only three presidential candidates in every race. A short time ago, I began to hear about this political movement called Cuarta Urna. In Spanish, this means fourth ballot box. What I understand is that the political objective of Cuarta Urna is to change the Honduran constitution. Many believe that Cuarta Urna is a political means for Manuel Zelaya to be elected a second time. Furthermore, opponents of Cuarta Urna infer that this movement is ultimately to achieve the indefinite reelection of a president.
Last week, tensions in Honduras rose as Zelaya was planning on executing a national referendum, or encuesta, scheduled for Sunday, June 28, 2009 (today). It was to be a yes/no inquiry to see if the Honduran people were interested in making changes to the constitution. But on Thursday, the head of the Army, Romeo Vásquez, was fired by Zelaya for not logistically supporting the referendum with the army.
I heard Vásquez refused to help because the Supreme Court and the National Congress declared the referendum to be illegal. It would have been illegal, because national referendums cannot be held 180 days before or after an election. As the next presidential election is this year, they said that any referendum would be illegal. The Supreme Court then ordered Zelaya to reinstall Romeo Vásquez.
A father of one of my students, told me Thursday night that he suspected a coup d'état was in the works. He advised me not to go downtown in Tocoa for the next four days, or go near any large groups of people, especially because I am a foreigner (target?).
His words were almost proved correct on Friday morning, as I was told me that a coup d'état almost happened on Thursday night, except that both parties (President vs. Congress & Courts) received a phone call from a mediator. Was it Hillary Clinton?
Friday and Saturday were tense in Tocoa, and around Honduras in general. Zelaya and his supporters mobbed the military airbase and took all of the ballot boxes for the referendum. This way they could distribute the materials for the referendum on Sunday. There was no resistance by the military.
Last night, I went out with some friends for a beer. I sat with three Tocoans, listening to their concerns for the future of their country. There had been an article in the local newspaper, La Prensa, that Nicaraguan soldiers were infiltrating the border in civilian clothes. Even worse, Honduras' neighbors on all sides were mobilizing at the border. It seemed that everyone was expecting the worst as referendum day drew near.
It seemed quiet in Tocoa last night. Even though there are less than 30,000 people living in Tocoa, at least the main drag is bustling around 1 or 2 a.m. Everybody apparently decided to stay home. It probably would have been prudent of me to stay home too, but I guess part of me found going out to be exciting, in a twisted way. Don't confuse my feelings, I want the most peaceful and democratic solution for this country. But I am pursuing a political science degree, after all. It feels like I'm experiencing history. It might be a misplaced fascination with a volatile political scene, but hey, I'm already here, right?
Sunday, June 28, was to be the day of the referendum. I woke up at 8:30 a.m. to the sound of my AC going down. My host brother told me that the military had shut down the electricity in all of Honduras for the day. I used the last 15 minutes of battery to log online and discover that Zelaya had been arrested and expelled from Honduras. This meant that the military went ahead with the coup.
You can read about what happened elsewhere in Honduras, but I'll share what I know about Tocoa. People here were fairly certain that the electricity was deliberately shut down by the military. Maybe they did it to stop the people watch reports on TV before they could issue a report. Around 10 a.m., my host brother saw a small airplane dropping leaflets on Tocoa. I eventually saw one, and it stated that the referendum was illegal, that Cuarta Urna was illegal, and for everyone to stay in their homes. I'll try to get a copy of that leaflet up tomorrow.
The referendum voting places were to be the local schools in Tocoa. The ballot boxes were seized, and the referendum canceled. I didn't go downtown, but some in my host family were running errands. They told me that there was a gathering in the central park of Tocoa, a demonstration probably. Additionally, these demonstrators were surrounded by soldiers, that were guarding the park and town. Local businesses shut down early on Sunday, out of fear of a mass protest.
By noon, the power was back, and not a moment too soon. The Confederations Cup final was about to start! I laid low for most of the day, watched the U.S. national team choke during the second half, eat lunch, and watch Interim President Roberto Micheletti get sworn in by the national congress.
Many Hondurans are struggling with the definition of what happened here today. Was it a coup, or wasn't it? A lot of people in Honduras don't think it was a coup, since they transitioned to a new civilian government so quickly. They saw it more as a replacement of the president. The military ousted Zelaya early this morning, but the National Congress claims they acted under their orders. Micheletti is apparently Zelaya's replacement for the next six months. What more, their from the same party! So this struggle between Zelaya and the other two branches of government extend to his own party and former political allies. It isn't seen as a cut and dry coup from here in Honduras. Many here told me they were afraid that Zelaya wanted to rule indefinitely, and do the same in Honduras as was done in Venezuela.
A lot of Tocoans do not believe Zelaya's accusation that the U.S. embassy has been supporting a coup. Many actually see the U.S. government as a better ally than Chávez, who is perceived as a threat to the stability of Honduras. Hondurans are looking to the U.S. for support, especially as a counterweight to Venezuela. We will see how the international community interacts with this new government.
People in Tocoa want support. They are going to try to make Monday a normal day. Businesses are to be open and school will be in session. People want it to normal here, but are all too aware of the tension, and too unaware of the future. I'm holding class tomorrow, but can't really count on anything.
Let's hope for the best.
UPDATE:
Before I go to sleep for the night, I just read online that a nationwide curfew has been imposed for Sunday and Monday each night spanning from 9PM to 6 AM.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Trujillo
Hey all,I hope that Minnesota has warmed up over the weekend. IT is STILL hot in Honduras. I went to the local gym for the first time today. A monthly membership is 350 lempiras ($19.50???). It's certainly not the best facility I've been to, but at the same time its all that Tocoa has to offer, so there we go. The gym is only open from 5:30-8 AM so I need to be there around 6 if I want to exercise in the morning. I had my morning class today at 8 AM, we worked on simple present verb pronunciation. They are a bunch of sharp kids, even if they can't sit still for 2 minutes.
After class i took a nap in a hammock. This is turning into one of my favorite activities. But it rained for 20 minutes before I woke up so I had to go inside. And I don't like having my air conditioner on during the day, so its pretty hot in my room right now.
Yesterday I went with Orlin and his friend Carlos to Trujillo. Its this little town about 45 minutes north east of Tocoa. It was the place where Christopher Columbus landed in Central America in his last voyage to the America's in 1502. Trujillo is on the Caribbean sea, so I was able to go swimming in the ocean for the first time in my trip. We ate at this place called La Perla del Caribe. I orderd this Sopa Marinera, and what I got was this. Yes those are fins and yes those are crab legs in my soup. It was a veritable seafood extravaganza (plus lobster, shrimp, etc.)!
Then we went to The Fort of Santa Barbara, a 400 year old fort that the Spanish built to protect Trujillo from Pirates-unsuccessfully, but it was still pretty neat. The fort was in a poor state of disrepair- 7 million lempiras (L18=$1) had been given to its restoration but it has already been spent. Pretty interesting though, I saw the place where the 19th century filibust William Walker was executed after he tried to conquer Central America.
Then we went to this old museum, or more accurately an old building that was the American HQ in the early 20th century. Inside were a bunch of artifacts from ships and trains and Mayan culture, a bunch of rusty chachki's, really.
I read or heard somewhere that
Next week there's a carnaval in Trujillo. I think that I'd like to go to Ceiba instead.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I'm Still River
I started teaching the simple present tense of verbs yesterday to my evening class. They seemed pretty receptive, but I need to remember that they are new to every word I teach them, and I can't take it too quickly with them. Nothing to worry about though. The thing that has helped me most is setting clear objective when writing my lesson plan. This brings clear purposes to my classes. Like I want to have them familiar with X today, or introduce vocab X-Z; then the next day make sure they are competent in conjugating only X,Y & Z verbs. Overall it has been rewarding to see myself grow into this leadership role. Growing into this leadership role has so far been very rewarding, and I look forward to the rest of the summer. This has been a new experience for me, but despite the the work everyday, has been a lot of fun.
Last night Orlin and his Boca friends don Vidal and Elling were waiting for me after class. They wanted me to help them write a letter from the Tocoa Boca Club to the Argentine Boca Club. After writing a couple of drafts explaining the history of their club, we went to Orln's brother Marvin's house. Marvin has a degree in education, and is also a good writer. We wrote the first draft that will be emailed/ mailed to Buenos Aires in the coming weeks. But to get recognition for the Tocoa Bocas Marvin thought the only way to really show them what Tocoa Boca is about is to create an official website for their club. So they asked me to create that for them, while I am here. I am really excited to do that, not only because I got done with the 4th course in the Education technology certification at UMD, but also because I bought the ADOBE software to do so before I came to Honduras. Making them a website will be my side project for the summer, when I'm not teaching. I'll keep you up to date on its progress as it develops.
I never thought I would be writing a letter to Boca Juniors!
Last night Orlin and his Boca friends don Vidal and Elling were waiting for me after class. They wanted me to help them write a letter from the Tocoa Boca Club to the Argentine Boca Club. After writing a couple of drafts explaining the history of their club, we went to Orln's brother Marvin's house. Marvin has a degree in education, and is also a good writer. We wrote the first draft that will be emailed/ mailed to Buenos Aires in the coming weeks. But to get recognition for the Tocoa Bocas Marvin thought the only way to really show them what Tocoa Boca is about is to create an official website for their club. So they asked me to create that for them, while I am here. I am really excited to do that, not only because I got done with the 4th course in the Education technology certification at UMD, but also because I bought the ADOBE software to do so before I came to Honduras. Making them a website will be my side project for the summer, when I'm not teaching. I'll keep you up to date on its progress as it develops.
I never thought I would be writing a letter to Boca Juniors!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
I live on Calle Ocho
the Banegas family, my hosts here in Tocoa, are big fans of soccer. They love soccer so much that the founded their own club here in town. The club is called the Boca Juniors. If you're not familiar with international soccer, Boca Juniors is the biggest club in Argentina. It is the 8th most successful club this year. It was even the club where Soccer Idol Diego Maradonna spent the majority of his career.
This is funny because Boca is the arch-rival of my favorite Argentine club, River Plate. Once I told everyone I was of the Banda Roja (River) and not a Bostero (Boca), ha we exchanged the expected trash talk between teams. River has done fairly poorly this year though (#87 globally, I think). I still think it's cool that they are such huge fanaticos, though. They've gotten sponsors (like Orlin's friend don Vidal), and have their own barra (superfan group). Orlin wants me to help him write a letter to the original Boca Juniors in Buenos Aires so that the Tocoa Boca Juniors can get some international recognition. Maybe some sponsorship??? Even though its my archrival, I like this little club since they're the underdog and just getting started.
They are also for Real Madrid while I am a Barça fan.
Note: We are writing that letter tonight.
My classes have been going fairly well. I have 13 students in my evening class, all in the secondary school range. They all have fairly advanced English textbooks they use at school, but don't seem to be able to construct English sentences without help. The established purpose of this school was to assist with English conversation, so being able to form a sentence would seem to be pretty important.
We're just getting started with nouns and the simple present tense of verbs right now, along with some vocabulary practice. Last week my students made family trees, with key words like mother, father, brother, sister, etc. There is a strong sense of family in Honduras so I figured this would be a practical place to begin. Otherwise we have been reviewing numbers, the English alphabet, and basic phrases, which they seem to already have a basic grasp. I feel like everything is going well in class, and that these kids will make a lot of headway in the next 3 months.
By the way, I found out the street I'm living on is called CALLE OCHO. They called it this because there used to be a big nightlife on this street. Cantinas lined both sides of the street and it got to be pretty crazy. I guess a bunch of people got killed so the government shut it down like four years ago.
This is funny because Boca is the arch-rival of my favorite Argentine club, River Plate. Once I told everyone I was of the Banda Roja (River) and not a Bostero (Boca), ha we exchanged the expected trash talk between teams. River has done fairly poorly this year though (#87 globally, I think). I still think it's cool that they are such huge fanaticos, though. They've gotten sponsors (like Orlin's friend don Vidal), and have their own barra (superfan group). Orlin wants me to help him write a letter to the original Boca Juniors in Buenos Aires so that the Tocoa Boca Juniors can get some international recognition. Maybe some sponsorship??? Even though its my archrival, I like this little club since they're the underdog and just getting started.
They are also for Real Madrid while I am a Barça fan.
Note: We are writing that letter tonight.
My classes have been going fairly well. I have 13 students in my evening class, all in the secondary school range. They all have fairly advanced English textbooks they use at school, but don't seem to be able to construct English sentences without help. The established purpose of this school was to assist with English conversation, so being able to form a sentence would seem to be pretty important.
We're just getting started with nouns and the simple present tense of verbs right now, along with some vocabulary practice. Last week my students made family trees, with key words like mother, father, brother, sister, etc. There is a strong sense of family in Honduras so I figured this would be a practical place to begin. Otherwise we have been reviewing numbers, the English alphabet, and basic phrases, which they seem to already have a basic grasp. I feel like everything is going well in class, and that these kids will make a lot of headway in the next 3 months.
By the way, I found out the street I'm living on is called CALLE OCHO. They called it this because there used to be a big nightlife on this street. Cantinas lined both sides of the street and it got to be pretty crazy. I guess a bunch of people got killed so the government shut it down like four years ago.
Red Card=MP5
Hey I haven't blogged in a week but I will tell you what I know...
Every morning for the last 2 weeks I have been waking up at 7 AM to a gratefully cool 82 degrees, and enjoy my coffee. By 9 AM we're back up to 89 degrees or so. I have an air conditioner in my apartment and am loathe to shut it off when I start my day. At 8 AM I teach a small group of 4 sisters. We play word games, practice vocabulary, and work on pronunciation in the morning. Their ages range from 7-12 years old. One of their favorite games to play is big karuta. I hide flashcards around the Banegas compound, shout them out in English (one at a time) and the girls have to sprint around the yard looking for the right word. This activity usually tires them out enough so that they will sit through a quick grammar lesson. Even so, they are fountains of energy and are ready to leave by 10 AM, when classes end.
After that I usually eat breakfast, tough it varies. Today for breakfast I ate an omlette, some kind of fried bean/chile, crumbly white farmer's cheese (not my favorite) and some sort of fried banana/maduro/platano/verde. I am a pitiful judge of what kind but I know its served at every meal! By 11 AM I amsettled down into one of the five hammocks hanging from varying mango trees on the Banegas Compound. I usually prepare my lesson for the night class at this time, though I usually nod off for a bit during the midday sun. There is a breeze right now, but at a price: the majority of the roads in Tocoa are dirt and as such blow a lot of dust into the air. Sweeping is a regular chore.
1 PM is usually lunch time. I don't know what we will be having but maybe I will blog about it tomorrow. Banana!
My associate/hostess Diani has a 4 year old son named David. He is a precocious and energetic little boy that made friends with me the night I got here. David calls me Elik. He likes to show me everything, like food, tables, hammocks, locks and explain how they work. He also likes to ask questions and He invited me to his birthday party. Which happened on the 28th of May, haha. The goodwill was there though.
For the last two Sundays I have been hanging out with my host brother Orlin. I go with him and his friends don Vidal and Joel Caballero to Sava to watch the Division 3 soccer playoffs. His club, The Boca Juniors, were knocked out a couple weeks ago so Orlin was there merely as a fanatico of fútbol. This last Sunday was the championship, between Juventud of Sava and Trujillo, a coastal city an hour north of Tocoa. After 90 minutes Sava was up 1-0 and gameplay became continually more agressive. In the end, a Trujillo player unsuccessfully tackled a Juventud player from behind. They started fighting and the Trujillo player got the red card. So the T. player charged the Ref and started roughing him up. 2 cops came onto the field to subdue this guy. One of them had a pistol and the other held back, brandishing an MP5, making sure the teams nor the fans started getting too rowdy. I have never seen automatic weapons on the soccer field, so of course I thought it was awesome/hardcore/ messed up.
Every morning for the last 2 weeks I have been waking up at 7 AM to a gratefully cool 82 degrees, and enjoy my coffee. By 9 AM we're back up to 89 degrees or so. I have an air conditioner in my apartment and am loathe to shut it off when I start my day. At 8 AM I teach a small group of 4 sisters. We play word games, practice vocabulary, and work on pronunciation in the morning. Their ages range from 7-12 years old. One of their favorite games to play is big karuta. I hide flashcards around the Banegas compound, shout them out in English (one at a time) and the girls have to sprint around the yard looking for the right word. This activity usually tires them out enough so that they will sit through a quick grammar lesson. Even so, they are fountains of energy and are ready to leave by 10 AM, when classes end.
After that I usually eat breakfast, tough it varies. Today for breakfast I ate an omlette, some kind of fried bean/chile, crumbly white farmer's cheese (not my favorite) and some sort of fried banana/maduro/platano/verde. I am a pitiful judge of what kind but I know its served at every meal! By 11 AM I amsettled down into one of the five hammocks hanging from varying mango trees on the Banegas Compound. I usually prepare my lesson for the night class at this time, though I usually nod off for a bit during the midday sun. There is a breeze right now, but at a price: the majority of the roads in Tocoa are dirt and as such blow a lot of dust into the air. Sweeping is a regular chore.
1 PM is usually lunch time. I don't know what we will be having but maybe I will blog about it tomorrow. Banana!
My associate/hostess Diani has a 4 year old son named David. He is a precocious and energetic little boy that made friends with me the night I got here. David calls me Elik. He likes to show me everything, like food, tables, hammocks, locks and explain how they work. He also likes to ask questions and He invited me to his birthday party. Which happened on the 28th of May, haha. The goodwill was there though.
For the last two Sundays I have been hanging out with my host brother Orlin. I go with him and his friends don Vidal and Joel Caballero to Sava to watch the Division 3 soccer playoffs. His club, The Boca Juniors, were knocked out a couple weeks ago so Orlin was there merely as a fanatico of fútbol. This last Sunday was the championship, between Juventud of Sava and Trujillo, a coastal city an hour north of Tocoa. After 90 minutes Sava was up 1-0 and gameplay became continually more agressive. In the end, a Trujillo player unsuccessfully tackled a Juventud player from behind. They started fighting and the Trujillo player got the red card. So the T. player charged the Ref and started roughing him up. 2 cops came onto the field to subdue this guy. One of them had a pistol and the other held back, brandishing an MP5, making sure the teams nor the fans started getting too rowdy. I have never seen automatic weapons on the soccer field, so of course I thought it was awesome/hardcore/ messed up.
Monday, June 1, 2009
I am in Honduras!!!
So I am in Tocoa Honduras. It is a town of ten thousand plus about an hour south of the Caribbean Sea. I came here to teach English to youngsters, and will be doing just that through the middle of August. Woo!
Getting to Tocoa was a journey though. Back last Friday my friend Jake drove me to Minneapolis. I spent the evening packing and repacking all of my things, which included a backpack full of school supplies for my new classroom (pens, pencils, notebooks, textbooks, activitybooks, markers, a whiteboard, flashcards, etc etc etc).
At 3 AM Jake, Nelly (good friend and Jake´s fiance) and I left for the airport. We forgot which was the Airport was the international terminal (humphrey of lindbergh) and I was accidentally dropped off at humphrey (woops!) Finally, I got to the Lindbergh terminal where my Boss Anna saw me off.
So I went through the security check, nothing particularily new to me, and I FORGOT TO TAKE MY LAPTOP OUT OF MY BACKPACK! So I got held up by three guards who wouldn´t let me touch my stuff until they could verify I wasn´t a terrorist, or something. If it couldn´t get worse, they didn´t assign my flight a terminal until a half hour before departure!
Not such an auspicious start.
Things smoothed out after that. I flew into Houston by 8:30 and flew out an hour later. By 11 AM I had arrived in San Pedro Sula, Honduras´second largest city and their industrial capital. When I disembarked their was a team of workers screening passengers for the swine flu. I had to sign a statement saying I wasn´t sick, then they filmed me for a second so they could record who they checked. I waited outside of customs for like twenty minutes until Cindy, Anna´s in-law found me.
She drove me around San Pedro, a veritable circus of activity and a traffic nightmare at that. She showed me the cathedral, anbd then bought me lunch from SUPER CATRACHO fast food place (rice, yuca, chicken and tortilla). Then she drove me to the bus terminal, which seemd larger than the airport. Getting on the bus, I was told by Tony (relation of Cindy´s),
¨cuidado cuidado en el bus!!!¨Errrr................not such a good thing to hear...
I rode window seat on this old bus that didn´t have air conditioning. It wasw probably ninety degrees inside of their for the first three hours of the trip. Although it was intense, I pretty much stuck my head out the window for that entire time, even after it started raining, which was such a relief.The bus ride lasted from 1 until 7 PM, and we rode through La Ceiba, Sava, a bunch of little towns.
My socia Diany picked me up in the Tocoa bus station a little after seven and brought me to the Banegas compound, where I will be spending the next three months. I get my own room with a private bathroom, and even an air conditioner (threw that on right away).
I spent Sunday getting settled in. Orlin, Anna´s brother in law took me to a soccer game in Sava, about 20 minutes away, during the afternoon. With us went his friends Joel Caballero, and Jose (don´t know his last name). We ate at some Argentine parilla (grill) restaurant ($4 entree pf grilled beef, beens, fried maduro chips, ensalada and tortilla) then drove to te stadium. There was an armed guard protecting the parked cars. Tickets were 30 lempiras, which is like $1.50 or so. It seemed like a high school level game, and each team had their own hinchada (crowd) banging drums and blowing horns constantly. It started raining an both hinchadas crowded underneath the stand´s awning. Players kept getting injured from the wet field, but they finished after 90 minutes anyways in impate (tie).
Today is my first day of teaching classses. It starts at 6 and goes until 8. My nine students are elementary age, and I am keen to see how we will get along. I dont have any pictures up, and probably won´t until i find a faster computer. I am well, and hope you all are too.
Getting to Tocoa was a journey though. Back last Friday my friend Jake drove me to Minneapolis. I spent the evening packing and repacking all of my things, which included a backpack full of school supplies for my new classroom (pens, pencils, notebooks, textbooks, activitybooks, markers, a whiteboard, flashcards, etc etc etc).
At 3 AM Jake, Nelly (good friend and Jake´s fiance) and I left for the airport. We forgot which was the Airport was the international terminal (humphrey of lindbergh) and I was accidentally dropped off at humphrey (woops!) Finally, I got to the Lindbergh terminal where my Boss Anna saw me off.
So I went through the security check, nothing particularily new to me, and I FORGOT TO TAKE MY LAPTOP OUT OF MY BACKPACK! So I got held up by three guards who wouldn´t let me touch my stuff until they could verify I wasn´t a terrorist, or something. If it couldn´t get worse, they didn´t assign my flight a terminal until a half hour before departure!
Not such an auspicious start.
Things smoothed out after that. I flew into Houston by 8:30 and flew out an hour later. By 11 AM I had arrived in San Pedro Sula, Honduras´second largest city and their industrial capital. When I disembarked their was a team of workers screening passengers for the swine flu. I had to sign a statement saying I wasn´t sick, then they filmed me for a second so they could record who they checked. I waited outside of customs for like twenty minutes until Cindy, Anna´s in-law found me.
She drove me around San Pedro, a veritable circus of activity and a traffic nightmare at that. She showed me the cathedral, anbd then bought me lunch from SUPER CATRACHO fast food place (rice, yuca, chicken and tortilla). Then she drove me to the bus terminal, which seemd larger than the airport. Getting on the bus, I was told by Tony (relation of Cindy´s),
¨cuidado cuidado en el bus!!!¨Errrr................not such a good thing to hear...
I rode window seat on this old bus that didn´t have air conditioning. It wasw probably ninety degrees inside of their for the first three hours of the trip. Although it was intense, I pretty much stuck my head out the window for that entire time, even after it started raining, which was such a relief.The bus ride lasted from 1 until 7 PM, and we rode through La Ceiba, Sava, a bunch of little towns.
My socia Diany picked me up in the Tocoa bus station a little after seven and brought me to the Banegas compound, where I will be spending the next three months. I get my own room with a private bathroom, and even an air conditioner (threw that on right away).
I spent Sunday getting settled in. Orlin, Anna´s brother in law took me to a soccer game in Sava, about 20 minutes away, during the afternoon. With us went his friends Joel Caballero, and Jose (don´t know his last name). We ate at some Argentine parilla (grill) restaurant ($4 entree pf grilled beef, beens, fried maduro chips, ensalada and tortilla) then drove to te stadium. There was an armed guard protecting the parked cars. Tickets were 30 lempiras, which is like $1.50 or so. It seemed like a high school level game, and each team had their own hinchada (crowd) banging drums and blowing horns constantly. It started raining an both hinchadas crowded underneath the stand´s awning. Players kept getting injured from the wet field, but they finished after 90 minutes anyways in impate (tie).
Today is my first day of teaching classses. It starts at 6 and goes until 8. My nine students are elementary age, and I am keen to see how we will get along. I dont have any pictures up, and probably won´t until i find a faster computer. I am well, and hope you all are too.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Molten Hot Magma!
I had little idea of what Lenay and I would be doing for our last weekend in Costa Rica, and for that matter, South America. There had been much speculation over the past week. Would we go to Lake Nicaragua with some Ticas Lenay had met? Victor and some students were planning a trip to Perez Zeledon as well. Even our expatriate friend Nicole was trying to get something going! What Lenay wanted was to speak our second language for our last few days. I was just about having a good time.
That friday night I had walked to the bus station in the pouring rain (don't worry I was wearing a poncho) to meet up with some friends at El Avión (A restaurant centered around a hollowed out B-17). I had left some clothes at a friends two weeks earlier and was trying to tie up all of my loose ends. I ran in to my friends Seth and Ashley, who were coincidentally about to hop on the 8 o'clock Manuel Antonio bus. Offhandedly I mentioned making a road trip to them, without any real expectations. 'Think about it,' I said, and left it at that.
8 Am the next morning I am walking to Lenay's house to make sure she is almost packed. She lives only two blocks away so the walk was short. Nearing here house, I notice she is getting into a sedan with some gringos. 'Lenay! Lenay! A donde vas???' Everone in the car turns toward me and I realize: Seth, Ashley, and Jared (Lenay's roomie) were coming to pick me up. We were roadtripping across Costa Rica to Arenal, an active volcano famed for its near perfect cone.
Saying goodbye to my host parents, we left. Retracing our footsteps back to Jacó, we even stopped at the bar Lenay and I nearly spent a rainy night at! An hour later we were enjoying TCBY ice cream (pistacchio anyone?) and spying a couple of tourist shops. Leaving Jacó, a police officer directed us away from the exit back into town. Confused, we kept driving until we returned to the town's main drag. There was a parade!!! I saw traditionally dressed dancers, stilt walkers, clowns, drum lines, bands, and seven foot tall masqueraders! It was completely out of control and all of us were so excited to see this surprise. Coincidentally this was the opening event for Jacó's cultural week. Talk about seeing out of the ordinary!
Continuing down the road, we spent the next several hours navigating based on the national map Seth had gotten from the rental place. We crossed a river-spanning bridge that was infested with crocodiles below. A small herd of cattle approached the river to slake a ninety degree thirst, so I began praying to see that Discovery channel-worthy kill, demonstrating the power between the jaws of these fearsome reptiles. It never happened, so we moved on, climbing into the mountains.
The next four hours of muddling through the roads of this country were marked by several features. We stopped (several times) to back track and ask for directions. In the town of Palmeras we stopped at an ancient looking cathedral to calm ourselves (and to gape in awe). The road quality varied between a fully paved asphalt highway and twenty degree grade, gravel nightmare that would have been better suited to Travis Pastrana. Call it 'Tour Arenal.' We stopped at a CR fast food joint, watched a little spanish Jack Sparrow, and by five o'clock were driving beneath the shadow of a towering volcano.
By this time of day Arenal was shrouded in fog and rain had begun to fall. We found some D'Amore friends at Baldi, a classy resort with twenty some volcanic baths and six dollar beers (ugh!). We found their hotel, checked into the presidential sweet (reduced price, thanks to yours truly, and the power of spanish). It was a three bed number, complete with sectional, tv, fridge, jacuzzi, and a killer view of the volcano. Social hour began when the other group came back. The mood was jovial, as this would be the last hurrah for many of us. Unfortunately the electricity went out (as it often does in this country). Undaunted, the twenty of us lit candles and continued festivities until past midnight.
At 12 AM we were driven to the base of the volcano. Itwas an 8 kilometer drive through some of the bumpiest road that I have been on to date. After following a short pathway through the jungle we came upon a thirty foot wide suspension bridge. There we stopped, dead in our tracks. Arenal was spewing out lava from the cone, and four hours we watched. This experience was absolutely stunning. When in my life have I, or for that matter will I see lava erupting from an active volcano? It would pour down the slope in a matter of seconds, only to be replaced seconds later by the next wave. I couldn't believe it. I was seeing some serious 'Land Before Time' shit and simply could not believe the communion we were sharing with the planet in this very moment. There are moments in life when a human being feels intimately connected with the planet. I am unsure if this will be topped. It was as if I was bearing witness to the fury emerging from the iron and nickel core of the planet, some hundreds of miles within the Earth. I went home humbled, unable to sort out what I had seen.
The next morning we left for a national park in the area. Fully rested (though keeping everyone awake with my cacophonous snoring) we followed our friends to a waterfall on the otherside of Arenal. While Lenay and Jared set off on a two hour hike to explore a massive caldera, Seth, Ashley and I took the easy 15 minute hike down 400+ steps to a freshwater pool. From the bottom we saw the 80 foot faucet pouring down into a fourty foot wide pool. When I jumped in my body was shocked by the Superior-like coldness of the mountain stream. Seth and I swam to a cavern on the other side, and after being whistled back by the park guards we set off further down stream. Nearby I spent damn near close to an hour trying to catch fish out of the shallows. There was a school of hundreds, so Seth and I were sprinkling crackers and trying to scoop these little guys onto shore with our bare hands. It was fun, but we are no jungle natives.At the end of the day we met back up with the rest of our party at the Arenal Observatory lodge. This is normally a precious viewpoint of the volcano, but fog had moved into the area and the daily rain had begun once again. Nevertheless, we were satisfied with what we had alreay witnessed, and drove home exhausted, getting back to Manuel Antonio after midnight.
Thanks for the PB and J's Ashley!
Friday, May 23, 2008
Jungle Shenanigans
When we visited the park, I decided to make some videos. While it's a chance for you guys to see my mug, they're stupid.
So Enjoy
So Enjoy
Capuchin Camera Thieves
What makes Quepos such a beautiful beach seven kilometers away. Manuel Antonio National Park. I heard that it is home to some of the most beautiful species living in Costa Rica. I hear howler monkeys every night. Maybe I'd finally get the chance to see one! This was to be my last weekend in Quepos, so I obviously didn't want to miss my chance.The Texans at D'Amore were planning on spending that saturday afternoon on a catamaran. As much as I love maritime keggers in Costa Rica, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to explore the park. So in the afternoon Lenay and I walked the beach to the park entrance. The tide was up, so some locals were ferrying tourists across a three foot deep pond to the park. We paid the ten dollar entrance fee at the gate and beheld Costa Rica's greatness.
A dirt path ran adjacent to the beach, underneath a heavy canopy of jungle foliage. It was a lanscape of green and blue and brown. We walked on this shaded path until it lead into the forest. This subtropical forest was dark and silent. I could hear nothing except for the scurrying of unseen animals on the forest floor. baffled by this sound, I continued until I saw the strangest animal. I found a neon orange and purple crab, smaller than the palm of my hand flee from the sight of me into it's dug out den. And then I saw another crab. And another. This place was filled with scurrying neon crabs, sounding the chorus in an otherwise silent place. I found this simple sound to be one of the most otherworldy qualities of the park, absolutely alien to me. This place was awe-inspiring.
The park is home to hundreds of species. I saw the typical iguanas, frogs, birds and coatis (jungle racoon). Two toed sloths are a common sight. One can imagine my excitement at the one living outside of my school (favorite tropical animal). We were even visited by a white headed capuchin monkey. These white faced devils will steal anything from tourists, looking for food. There are stories of monkeys even stealing cameras, trying to eat them. Then they chuck 'em back down. That is just the funniest story, but I guess monkey feeding has become a problem here.
We spent the remaining hours exploring the beaches and appreciating some jaw dropping views of the pacific.
We left the park in the rain. Costa Rica is in the wet season, but this particular storm only served as a precursor for my bike trip the next day.
Manuel Antonio National Park= Awesome Neon Crab Forest
Stand and Deliver
So I had just left the beach in Jacó. Knowing how dangerous roads can be in Costa Rica, Lenay and I saddled up to make the seventy kilometer drive back to Quepos. What's dangerous about Jacó and the highway in this country is that petty crime is rampant. I had even been warned by my host father about highwaymen lying in wait for motorists. A group of bandits speed their car past a couple of mopeds, block the road, and thieve at gunpoint. I didn't want that to be me. But I had another concern, far more urgent .The rain was coming.
All ready starting to fall in droplets, we hurriedly made it to a service station to fill up the motos for the trip home. I was nervous, simply put. I didn't bring a poncho, and aside from my helmet, all I had for protection was the cracked pair of sunglasses I had gotten from a sunday fair in San Telmo, a month earlier. Furthermore, I'm not exactly a salty biker. Afterall, this was my first time riding. How would I react to the road?
I jut wanted to get home, so I steeled my resolve, sucked it up and pulled back onto the highway. The further we road, the slicker the highway became, and I was becoming concerned. I didn't want to dump the back, especially with the agressive drivers. Visibility was diminishing rapidly as the shower pouring down upon me boosted into a fully fledged unholy downpour. Sunglasses barely helped. They kept the rain out of my eyes. That was hardly beneficial though, because with the continual proliferation just adding and adding up, I couldn't see anything anyways.
Well we kept up this impossible struggle for over an hour. The sun had gone down, and I was keeping my bike on the road by pure instinct. My clothes were completely soaked, my teeth were chattering, and I could do to stave off mind-numbing cold was to mumble 'Three Little Birds' by Bob Marley. And to be completely honest, I was praying to God that every little thing was going to be all right.
SIx o'clock rolls by and I am at my end. Exhausted, my arms numb from the crippling rain, I knew this was the end of the road. My fingers had no feeling at this point either, most likely from my death grip on the throttle. More importantly however, I was worried about Lenay. She had kept up with me every step of the way, unbelievable. I was about to fall off of my bike from exhaustion. The endurance she had shown in the last hour confirmed to me that she is one of the toughest girls I know. A complete hardcase, if you ask me, especially if she's tooling around Costa Rica after dark through a monsoon-like deluge of rain.
So here we were, two pallid ghosts in the dark, shaking something fierce just to push the cold out. After asking a couple of bewildered cops for directions, we spurred on, driving another half mile only to hide under the awning of an abandoned motel. This was the moment of despair I was dreading. What were we going to do all night? The storm wasn't abating. If anything the downpour was just building up, and deafening to all those hearing rain drops crash in this damned storm.
We spent ten agonizing minutes under that awning. Retrospectively, I would have called it a strategy-rethinking session. It was really just a near panic, as We struggled our frozen minds into action. By chance, a local family was leaving next door. Asking them where the nearest shelter was, we were directed to a cantina at the end of the block.
This place was dead when we shuffled through its doors. Only the regulars and the owners family were present at this hour. Sauntering up to the bar (the it probably was a stiff crawl) I immediately ordered a coffee and a whiskey rocks (hey, I needed to get warmed up!). After being introduced to Millet, the proprietor of the bar, we were both given towels and a spot at the bar. Fifteen minutes later I was dry in my change of clothes and warmed by my Johnny Walker. The rain showed no signs of slowing down, so I ordered costillas de cerdo (pork ribs) on recommendation from the inebriated Millet. Who's going to argue with the owner?
We had spent several hours here by the time my hopes of getting home were diminishing. Millet by this time was slouching over and griping to me about his wife's infidelity, all while taking pulls off of the bottle of house scotch. But at least we had a roof over our heads. The clock eventually advanced past ten o'clock and I could still hear the rain's faithful requiem fall upon us. By this hour the regular clientele had made a larger showing for sunday night karaoke. So here Lenay an I were, trapped in this unknown village (I later found out it was Parrita) listening to the drunken butchery of over a dozen latin songs, all followed by a slurry of whooping. It was fun though. I gave my very own version of 'La Bamba,' while Lenay sang 'La Camisa Negra,' a recent hit by the Colombian Juanes.
Near the end of the night a Tico named Charlie and I made friends. For over an hour however, I endured his recommendations of accompanyment to a local town. Road. Dangerous. Ladrones. You will get robbed. Hotel. Warm. Take my credit card. I am friend. Rain. Night. Dangerous. Thieves. Go home tomorrow. Hotel. Nearby. Warm. I take you there. You will get robbed. Stay off the road. Night. Dangerous. I take you to a hotel. Warm. You go home tomorrow. Safe. I am poor. want nothing. Take my credit card.
I had to listen to that for over an hour! So frustrating. And by eleven thirty, the power went out in the cantina. Stuck between the sword and the wall, there was now really no other choice. After asking for a 'small token tip,' Lenay and I followed this drunken driver to the town, roughly ten minutes away. Thankfully I forced him to drive in front of us, because people, there are no traffic cops on the road in Costa Rica, and this guy was driving in England for the majority of the trip.
We found a place, and got accomodations. I took advantage of the air conditioning and warm shower (a serious luxury). At the crack of dawn I rolled out of bed and drove home to Quepos.
Some might call this trip a nightmare. We decided it was an adventure. Was it safe? No. Was it unique? Hell yeah! Would I do it again, if given the choice?
You better believe it!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Danger Zone
At 9 AM early on Sunday mornig I standing underneath Lenay's window. Calling out to her 'LENAY; LENAY!,' I saw her peek from behind the window curtains. She had to get up and see this! She opened her mouth, just about ready to speak, and then stopped. groggy apathy quickly transformed into an anxious recognition of the day's activities. I was in the middle of the road with two helmets, sitting on a moto. Her eyes bulged, excited. She knew what the 2006 kawasaki two stroke scooter meant...ROAD TRIP
Lenay was ready within seconds of seeing that scooter. A new feat by anyone's standards. But She has been itching to ride one of these things since January. And it's not like we have much time left, right?
Five minutes later I pulled into Fast Eddie's scooter rentals. She hopped on her moto and just like that we became road warriors, armed with two stroke dirt bike engines. It's only 100 cc's of power, but we felt pretty unstoppable nevertheless. This was the A TEAM baby. And Lenay, my MR. T. I felt like we could have taken on anything in Costa Rica. Bring IT ON!
After filling our gas tanks and tooling in and around Quepos for the morning, we sped off to the national highway, hugging the coastline of the Puntarenas department. Our destination was Jacó, a world famous surf town about seventy kilometers from Quepos. It's the kind of town where you would find surf bums, stoners, weekend visitors and Ticos alike. Hey, I hear even Britney Spears was there over the weekend (It was big news here). It was a pretty big trip, and there was just one day to do it in. So we took off, anxious, excited, and jacked from that feeling you get from owning the road.
15 kilometers and two questionably viable bridges later I found myself ripping down the coastline. My right hand was wrenched unnaturally from gripping a maxed out throttle for too long. Pacific winds were blasting away at my face. Sunburnt and flying, I was feeling absolutely brilliant! So we were throttling down the highway and making good time, the lanscape seemingly whizzing by, second by second. Imagine Kenny Loggin's 'Danger Zone' as the title track for the day's musical album. I mean, have you ever been locked in a 4 g negative dive with a Mig-28? I have. Lenay describes it as feeling like you're the king of the world, something that I'm unable to disagree with, but let me continue...
I saw a lot of banana trees on the way to Jacó. I saw a lot of different things actually. There were cows, and farms cantinas and soccer fields. I also saw a pack of stray dogs, Imperial beer signs and gringo resorts dotting the road. But what I mostly saw, aside from the breathtaking scenery were banana trees. These things looked twelve feet tall, with long verdent and droopy fronds hanging every which way. And of course...the bananas. And the plantations were all lined up in little neat rows. These damn manufactured forests were hiding the ocean from us!
Lenay and I weaved around cars drawing closer by the minute. Around 2 o'clock we pulled in to a soda (diner). After wiping the dirt off my face I ordered a quesadilla while my wingman (girl) was translating the menu for the Tico owners. We caught our breath, grabbed some lunch, then took back to the road, arriving in Jacó around twenty minutes later.
To me Jacó seems like the typical surf town. It's costa rican, yes i know, but all the gringo surf shops were throwing me a distinct cali vibe. Yeah, there were Tico surf shops and souvenir stands and sodas, but there was also KFC, TCBY and other familiar beasts, rearing it's head thousands of miles away from the norm. It isn't a large town, by any means but tourists make the trip to Jacó for surfing and a reputable nightlife. Lenay and I explored the town, and shifted through the ever present refuse for sale in the souvenir shops. Afterwards, I enjoyed the spanish LOTR while Lenay took full advantage of a 50% discount on VOLCOM clothes at a newly built development. At 5 or so I found myself at the beach, cooling off in the ocean before the inevitable return trip home.
The clouds did not look promising though.
Monday, May 19, 2008
I Want to See the Condors!!!
May 12th, 2008
Good God I'm tired. I have been every night. But then again, being out of the house for 18 hours of the day will do that to a guy. Even this one. But at least I've settled into this routine. THe last one for that matter, until i come home to the ominous reverse culture shock, whatever that means. I'm coming home soon, but let me get a few more words in before that, ok?
For as busy as I have been, My time here has been effectively confined to Quepos, for as busy as I've been. You will usually see me on the bus running between the town and Manuel Antonio beach, when the driver shows occasional pity on the gringo. Last week I pushed Lenay and I into the final course at D'Amore school. What this means is that, while I am supposed to be taking lessons from my Colombian professor, Victor, we usually finish the day arguing over politics or organized labor. However, I have learned a few things about Colombia, the first stop on my fabled return to South America in the near future. He has promised to take Lenay and I to see the andean condor, with it's massive three meter wingspan. It is possible to simply HEAR the wings of these gargantuans as the land at their perch above three thousand meters. I'm doing it.
We've been getting involved in studying a sort of 'pan-american identity,' a twenty-first century version of Che Guevara's political dream of the fifties. While opposed to Che's violent methods, I have absolutely become thoroughly absorbed in the idea, reinforced by the peoples that I have come to respect and admire. South America was definitely an adventure for me, and opened me up to the world, with its beautiful and its tragic aspects. I feel at this point that dream is impossible, but a little cultural exchange would be a start, eh?
Lenay and I spend our afternoons in class, which means we arrive when the thirty odd Texan classmates of mine are ending their school day. They are all here to learn spanish for a material and pragmatic reason, which would be a fifteen percent salary increase to all bilingual employees, at many Texan companies. They have been tossing some Mexican slang my way, but unfortunately, it's just not my specialty. Now toss out some quichua...
I haven't known many before Costa Rica (odd place to meet Texans), but the students from Texas State have a penchant for living hard and partying hard. I find myself being dragged out to the bar of the day, be it Byblos, Sargento Garcia, or Barba Roja. The prices are equal to American bars, but thats why they sell cacique in the bodegas, I guess. I'm running on little sleep, but at least it's a hell of a time.
Good God I'm tired. I have been every night. But then again, being out of the house for 18 hours of the day will do that to a guy. Even this one. But at least I've settled into this routine. THe last one for that matter, until i come home to the ominous reverse culture shock, whatever that means. I'm coming home soon, but let me get a few more words in before that, ok?
For as busy as I have been, My time here has been effectively confined to Quepos, for as busy as I've been. You will usually see me on the bus running between the town and Manuel Antonio beach, when the driver shows occasional pity on the gringo. Last week I pushed Lenay and I into the final course at D'Amore school. What this means is that, while I am supposed to be taking lessons from my Colombian professor, Victor, we usually finish the day arguing over politics or organized labor. However, I have learned a few things about Colombia, the first stop on my fabled return to South America in the near future. He has promised to take Lenay and I to see the andean condor, with it's massive three meter wingspan. It is possible to simply HEAR the wings of these gargantuans as the land at their perch above three thousand meters. I'm doing it.
We've been getting involved in studying a sort of 'pan-american identity,' a twenty-first century version of Che Guevara's political dream of the fifties. While opposed to Che's violent methods, I have absolutely become thoroughly absorbed in the idea, reinforced by the peoples that I have come to respect and admire. South America was definitely an adventure for me, and opened me up to the world, with its beautiful and its tragic aspects. I feel at this point that dream is impossible, but a little cultural exchange would be a start, eh?
Lenay and I spend our afternoons in class, which means we arrive when the thirty odd Texan classmates of mine are ending their school day. They are all here to learn spanish for a material and pragmatic reason, which would be a fifteen percent salary increase to all bilingual employees, at many Texan companies. They have been tossing some Mexican slang my way, but unfortunately, it's just not my specialty. Now toss out some quichua...
I haven't known many before Costa Rica (odd place to meet Texans), but the students from Texas State have a penchant for living hard and partying hard. I find myself being dragged out to the bar of the day, be it Byblos, Sargento Garcia, or Barba Roja. The prices are equal to American bars, but thats why they sell cacique in the bodegas, I guess. I'm running on little sleep, but at least it's a hell of a time.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
LOST...(IN PERU)
Lenay made this really funny video. She had lugged her video camera around some badass dunes in Ica. What a trooper.
Enjoy...
Enjoy...
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Word Games
I am living in Boca Vieja, which is a few streets of houses and about a five minute walk away from Quepos. I don't really don't know why it has its own name though. My host parents are Rogelio (Yeyo for short) and Lettvia. In their mid-sixties, they are retired on pension. Having two of their children married to Americans, they had been looking forward to practicing their english with me. They were disappointed.
I HAVE learned a few things since leaving you guys in January after all. My words come easily now and honestly, it feels like the skeleton key to other cultures. I've met many interesting characters during this trip, taken advantage of opportunities, and achieved a certain level of understanding of all the places visited in the last four months. And all of that is thanks to Spanish.
More importantly, I've improved so much because of practice. Lenay and I set a goal at the outset of the semester NOT to speak any english. Of course there have been exceptions. But our friendship now is largely one of Spanish. Frankly I get startled when she breaks into the native tongue.
So to all of those traveling abroad, or even thinking about it: PRACTICE. IT's so easy to break down into english whenever you get out of class, but hey, take the high road. It pays off. And if you're afraid of saying the wrong thing, well don't be! You're a foreigner, it's expected of you! And that is exactly how you learn. That fear is holding you back from greatness. So get rid of the mental block. Block you ask? Have a few drinks in Mexico, Ecuador, or wherever. Then try out some spanish. You'll know what I'm talking about then. After a few cocktails you'll feel SO much better at spanish. Though it's not. But at least you got that confidence back.
Now only if you could do it sober...
Anyways I've been staying with Yeyo and Lettvia this week. For breakfast I'm sually fed papaya and banana, noodles and bread to go with my coffee. It's not mate de coca but I guess it will do. For supper it's usually Pinto de Gallo (rice & beans) with a meat, salad, and postre (dessert). Suprisingly, the water is potable here. At least I'm done buying bottled water for the duration.
In the evenings, Yeyo usually talks to me about his culture. I also found out he's a big sports nut. Baseball, which is even better. Too bad he's a Yankees fan. So we watched the Yanks-Tigers game last week, I rooted for the Tigers naturally. Too bad for him.
Last night we watched fútbol, the Pachuca (MEX) v. Saprissa (CR) game. Costa Rica lost, so I guess it's Pachuca going to Japan. Due to Frank Lampard's mad free kicking skills, it's Chelsea who will be facing off against them (sorry Liverpool). It is odd, my fascination with soccer in a different hemisphere, but that's what Latin America does to you.
The best part about living in Quepos, thus far, is obviusly the beach. An hour away from the legendary Jaco, the waves here are world famous.Lenay and I take the seven kilometer bus ride from Quepos as often as we can. The road goes through the rainforest, and is dangerously narrow, narrow on a darwinian scale. There are few pedestrians for that reason. IT is lined with restaurants and hotels. Every other bar has advertising for Imperial, the national beer. Funny though, all of the Ticos (CR people) seem to prefer Corona.
This is definitely Central America.
I HAVE learned a few things since leaving you guys in January after all. My words come easily now and honestly, it feels like the skeleton key to other cultures. I've met many interesting characters during this trip, taken advantage of opportunities, and achieved a certain level of understanding of all the places visited in the last four months. And all of that is thanks to Spanish.
More importantly, I've improved so much because of practice. Lenay and I set a goal at the outset of the semester NOT to speak any english. Of course there have been exceptions. But our friendship now is largely one of Spanish. Frankly I get startled when she breaks into the native tongue.
So to all of those traveling abroad, or even thinking about it: PRACTICE. IT's so easy to break down into english whenever you get out of class, but hey, take the high road. It pays off. And if you're afraid of saying the wrong thing, well don't be! You're a foreigner, it's expected of you! And that is exactly how you learn. That fear is holding you back from greatness. So get rid of the mental block. Block you ask? Have a few drinks in Mexico, Ecuador, or wherever. Then try out some spanish. You'll know what I'm talking about then. After a few cocktails you'll feel SO much better at spanish. Though it's not. But at least you got that confidence back.
Now only if you could do it sober...
Anyways I've been staying with Yeyo and Lettvia this week. For breakfast I'm sually fed papaya and banana, noodles and bread to go with my coffee. It's not mate de coca but I guess it will do. For supper it's usually Pinto de Gallo (rice & beans) with a meat, salad, and postre (dessert). Suprisingly, the water is potable here. At least I'm done buying bottled water for the duration.
In the evenings, Yeyo usually talks to me about his culture. I also found out he's a big sports nut. Baseball, which is even better. Too bad he's a Yankees fan. So we watched the Yanks-Tigers game last week, I rooted for the Tigers naturally. Too bad for him.
Last night we watched fútbol, the Pachuca (MEX) v. Saprissa (CR) game. Costa Rica lost, so I guess it's Pachuca going to Japan. Due to Frank Lampard's mad free kicking skills, it's Chelsea who will be facing off against them (sorry Liverpool). It is odd, my fascination with soccer in a different hemisphere, but that's what Latin America does to you.
The best part about living in Quepos, thus far, is obviusly the beach. An hour away from the legendary Jaco, the waves here are world famous.Lenay and I take the seven kilometer bus ride from Quepos as often as we can. The road goes through the rainforest, and is dangerously narrow, narrow on a darwinian scale. There are few pedestrians for that reason. IT is lined with restaurants and hotels. Every other bar has advertising for Imperial, the national beer. Funny though, all of the Ticos (CR people) seem to prefer Corona.
This is definitely Central America.
34 Degrees What?!?!
Quepos is very different from what I have been used to on my trip. That is to say if I've gotten used to anything. Ok, let me start over. For the last week, I have been roasting in the jungle, in a place that's average May temperature is something around 33 degrees celsius (really hot!). Remember that not three weeks ago I went to sleep shivering in Cusco, wearing socks, booties, whatever to keep warm. And you probably don't recall the bus ride home from Lake Titicaca, when I watched the thermostat sink below 0 degrees celsius, on a bus with a broken heater. Even Buenos Aires was entering the fall, though there were a few unseasonably warm days scratching at 24 degrees.
Quepos doesn't so much have a winter season as a wet season. Without even looking at the figures I know about the boastful amount of rainfall Costa Rica gets each year. It's in the jungle folks! I spent the first two days praying for the rain, because the heat seemed unbearable, for a time. Well it came, and in force last week. I guess bodies do adjust to the climate, though I'd decribe it as being far too close to infernal. That's what 72 hours of straight sweating does though.
I doubt if Quepos has a population even close to 5000, and the eight city streets are layed out in the simplest possible gridwork. Never the less, gringo culture is at its strongest. Best Western, Remax, and even a Wal-Mart owned chain store is here, along with the expected smattering of surf shops and tourist agencies. The American investment is obviously extensive, judging from the English I here in the street. I've never seen a 'Gallo más Gallo' before though.
Aside from the lack of a capital gains tax, I understand why so many foreigners flock to this place, business, or pleasure-related. The scenery is stunning, and the animals (for a Minnesotan) are out of this world. Hordes of monkeys playon the school roof, when they're not foraging. I see monstrous iguanas on a daily basis, hanging onto trees or otherwise. They seem to enjoy snacking on flower petals. Even the bugs are are unreal, of an unholy proportion you might say. Unfortunately, the cockroach I saw the other night was all too real.
Quepos doesn't so much have a winter season as a wet season. Without even looking at the figures I know about the boastful amount of rainfall Costa Rica gets each year. It's in the jungle folks! I spent the first two days praying for the rain, because the heat seemed unbearable, for a time. Well it came, and in force last week. I guess bodies do adjust to the climate, though I'd decribe it as being far too close to infernal. That's what 72 hours of straight sweating does though.
I doubt if Quepos has a population even close to 5000, and the eight city streets are layed out in the simplest possible gridwork. Never the less, gringo culture is at its strongest. Best Western, Remax, and even a Wal-Mart owned chain store is here, along with the expected smattering of surf shops and tourist agencies. The American investment is obviously extensive, judging from the English I here in the street. I've never seen a 'Gallo más Gallo' before though.
Aside from the lack of a capital gains tax, I understand why so many foreigners flock to this place, business, or pleasure-related. The scenery is stunning, and the animals (for a Minnesotan) are out of this world. Hordes of monkeys playon the school roof, when they're not foraging. I see monstrous iguanas on a daily basis, hanging onto trees or otherwise. They seem to enjoy snacking on flower petals. Even the bugs are are unreal, of an unholy proportion you might say. Unfortunately, the cockroach I saw the other night was all too real.
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