18 October 2010

Just outside of La Libertad the road diverted because the bridge was out. Immediately my car was swarmed by young boys who showed me the way to go. Two of the boys jumped onto my rear bumper as I drove slowly down a rocky dirt road. A little further down the road went right and left. Another group of young boys ran up to the car. One group said go left, another right. I went right but had to turn around because there was a ditch in the road. So this group of about ten young boys guided me as I forded the car across a shallow yet rapid creek. Probably two feet deep and one hundred feet wide. Thankfully the car made it. They swarmed the car again asking for money so I gave their leader a five dollar bill and told them to split it amongst themselves. Now that I think about it, that probably won’t happen. Where would they split it up? There’s no bank nearby. But I didn’t have any ones.

I got lost on the way to Costa del Sol and had to ask directions and backtrack. For fifteen miles the ocean is hidden behind a monolithic wall of hotels and resorts. Though I did find a street to park along and walk to the beach. The beach here is littered with all kinds of trash and dead fish. There  is litter everywhere in Central America. I’ve seen more than a few people toss trash out of their cars. Between the resorts and the ocean is a barrier of thatched dwellings. Fishing boats, hanging clothes, shit, trash, and the smell of fish dominate the alleyways between these shacks.

I rented a cheap room for twenty dollars. The owner speaks English. I went for a longer walk on the beach and then to a tiny roadside restaurant just up from the hotel. Carne salada and two cokes, $2.50. Before I left La Libertad I stopped at a grocery store and bought crackers and cookies and used the ATM. Surprisingly the ATM worked. Even though it as the same bank branch as yesterday. The gas gauge is broken. This is why I ran out of gas yesterday. I just need to be aware of how much I fill up each time and my mileage so that it doesn’t happen again. 

I arranged to have my laundry done at the hotel and headed to the end of the road at Playa la Puntilla. I was approached right away by a guy who led me to a parking lot but I didn’t have to pay because I bought a bottle of water from the restaurant he works for. I walked down the beach a bit then walked back and took a boat ride around the Estero de Jaltapaque. The guide ran up to me as I was walking and he said twenty-five dollars for a boat tour. I hesitated and said no because I didn’t want to take a tour but he dropped the price to fifteen dollars so I accepted his offer. We rode up to a hotel where lots of Americans come to fish (saw a boat with a confederate flag) then over to an island where a lot of white birds were nesting and squawking about noisily. After the tour I headed back to where my car was parked and had fish for dinner before returning to the hotel.

My clothes were hanging up and the manager once more offered to get me a girl before he left. It was only four dollars for the wash. The lady did it all by hand. I walked along the beach as the sun set far away in the west. Makeshift goals made using long shiny logs were set up and all the kids were playing soccer. On the way back some children said “Hola, Santa.” I didn’t see the sun set because there were too many clouds.

Next door to the hotel is an open air prophetic ministry. They were having a service. There are graffiti images of Che Guevera everywhere.

17 October 2010

Last night I went back to where I ate dinner and I met a man and his brother. Both of them from Kentucky. HIs brother works in Guatemala. I met two girls. One from Britain and another from Australia. Both friends. Then I met a Swedish girl and I ended up in a swimming pool with her and here friends at their hotel. I also had a broken conversation with a bartender at a different place about music. The DJ last night played a lot of American club music. One local asked if I was jewish.

This morning I went to use the internet but the internet cafe was closed so I headed out of town. I had to take a ferry to leave Monterrico. It was basically a long pontoon boat with wood laid down to support the weight of vehicles. The ride across the swampy marsh was lovely. I sat on the side of the boat. Many other ferries with people and cars passed by.

Leaving Guatemala and entering El Salvador was very easy. There weren’t many people because it was Sunday. As soon as I approached the border I was approached by a guy wanting to help me. He showed me around to each window and where to get photocopies. He did not ask for money and I did not pay him.

About thirty miles into El Salvador my car broke down. At first I thought it might be the transmission. But I was just out of gas. The needle hadn’t moved all day and was was stuck at midpoint. I got out of my car and approached two boys and a man on bicycles behind me. They were of great help. We pushed the car up the road a bit and another man on a bike rode up and offered to go get gas. He found a container and headed off. It turns out the man who helped push my car is a minister of a prophetic word church. The ladies were outside coking dinner and all the ladies inside the church wore head coverings. The guy with the gas returned and we went about trying to put it in the tank. He took out his machete and cut off the bottom of a water bottle to make a funnel. But the spout was to large so I took a stick and pushed open the circular covering while another guy held the makeshift funnel in place. Still the car wouldn’t start. They said push it back a bit. So we did. Then the car started fine. I went to the church to wash the gas off my hands and thanked the minister.

At a Texaco I filled up and tried to use the ATM but it wouldn’t process my card. I will have to find a bank later.

The road to La Libertad is long and twists its way around cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. There are horses and dogs and cattle and people all over the road. I wanted to stay somewhere cheaper than I am but I needed to be sure they would accept my Visa because I don’t have enough cash. I believe I’m the only guest at this hotel.

After dinner, a messy club sandwich unlike any club sandwich I’ve ever had, I went for a walk towards the pier. One of the waiters stopped me. I think he was trying to tell me that it wasn’t safe to go out but I didn’t understand him. It was dark but the area was still lively. One of the restaurants on the walkway had a Mariachi band playing from table to table. The pier had a covered area up front where merchants were still selling fresh fish. Most of the stores were closed. The entire pier smelled heavily of fish guts and seawater. After the market area the rest of the pier had fishing boats lined up and there were people fishing off the pier in between boats all along the rails. I left the pier and continued walking but all the shops were closed so I returned to the hotel. The beach here is littered with trash and rocky. I’m sure the pier is abuzz with activity during the day. I can hear the ocean waves breaking outside.

16 October 2010

Leaving Santa Lucia and driving through Escuintalas I took the wrong road south to San Jose but I was able to take a road to Monterrico despite no road being on the map. I had to cross a small bridge and drive several miles on a road of dubious conditions. At Monterrico several young boys ran up to my car and asked if I needed parking or a hotel. One boy directed me to a parking lot. Several of the bills I had received as change from the toll bridge were stapled together unbeknownst to me and ripped when I pulled them apart.  The parking lady would not take them.

I walked along the beach for a while before backtracking into town to find the bus for Hawaii beach. The sand here is black. There is a boy leading horses up and down the beach for you to ride. I asked a guy if he was American because he had a Descendants hat. He said he was not. I guess he just likes punk rock.

In town I was directed to the bank and the bus stop.  I changed my money for new bills but I did not take the bus to Hawaii beach, instead the boys I asked where the bus stop was had a friend of theirs give me a free ride to the Hawaii Beach Park.

Entrance to the Hawaii Beach Turtle Park

The park was staffed by a Swiss girl, a French girl, two German girls, and an English man and woman. The Swiss girl showed me all around and then invited me to sit down with them and have some lunch, fried spaghetti. Every night they go on patrol looking for turtles laying eggs. They dig up the eggs and rebury them at their center. When the eggs hatch they set the turtles on the beach so they can crawl into the ocean. If they do not dig up the eggs in time the locals will dig them up and eat them or sell them to the park. They are all volunteers. No one gets paid. There is a local guy in charge but it still seems very anarchistic. Apparently you just show up and say you want to volunteer and that’s that. The English lady asked if I wanted to volunteer and as tempting as it sounded I don’t think that is the place for me. So I took the bus back to Monterrico and rented a room real cheap. Less than ten dollars. There is no T.V. in the room and this is good. I’ve been watching to much television on this trip. I was told today is Saturday and I could hardly believe it.

Rows of turtle eggs

For dinner I had nachos. Super nachos. Life is pretty stupid. I can’t imagine it matters what you do with it.

15 October 2010

Racking up the miles!

At Abaj Takalik I saw the oldest ball field in mesoamerica and I also met two Americans, Travis and Rebecca, Peace Corps volunteers. They asked if I had driven from New York and when I told them I planned on driving to Tierra del Fuego Travis said he wanted to do the same.

This is the oldest ball field in mesoamerica according to the guide.

On the way to Santiago Atitlan I thought I missed the turn so I backtracked a bit. While looking at maps in my car an older gentleman asked in good English where I was going. He informed me that I had not missed the turn but it was about thirty miles ahead. He then asked if I was a Mennonite because of my beard and hat. I neglected to ask how he spoke English well and knew who the Mennonites are.

Gas station where I stopped to look over my maps.

The road to Santiago Atitlan winds slowly through the mountains. Storm clouds were forming in the distance but not much rain broke. Still the roads were wet and that coupled with the potholes and sections of construction and dirt and steep climbs made the drive dangerous. In San Lucas Tomilan I lost the route and got lost in town. I drove around until I hit a dead end and asked a couple where the route lay.

The drive to from San Lucas Tomilan to Santiago Atitlan is very steep and curvy. There is little room for error on the narrow roads. But at the top of each curve there are stunning views of Lake Atitlan and the surrounding mountains and volcanoes. Today was gray and cloudy. It must be a magnificent sight when the sky is blue and the sun is shining onto the lake.

The road is very steep.

Lake Atitlan

The streets of Santiago Atitlan are very narrow and alive with vehicle traffic and especially people walking and standing around. You can drive right up to them and they will still not move. All the women are dressed in skirts and colorful blouses. The men are dressed in jeans and polos mostly. I thought I saw some Americans, two girls in jean shorts and a guy. Driving around the town I came upon a funeral procession. I could tell it was a child’s funeral because the coffin was so tiny. The streets are extremely narrow. I pulled over for some vehicle and when I continued on my way I broke my passenger side mirror because I had pulled over too far. I ended up superglueing it together. I wanted to stay in Santiago Atitlan and explore more but I did not. I drove back down the mountain to find a hotel. I did not want to face washed out roads in the morning. I should’ve stayed in Santiago Atitlan. I ended up driving about twenty miles in the rain and dark, I could hardly see a thing. I ended up at the first hotel I saw in Santa Lucia Cotzumalguapa. Because of my broken Spanish and not being able to understand what the boy who came to meet me said I think I ended up appearing as a gringo fool.  Dinner was pollo.

Guatemalans are pretty friendly. I wish I knew more Spanish. But I’m getting by. On Guatemala t.v. advertisements for stores are for store fronts. It’s not the same in America where each store has a separate building with doors.  Here there is one wide garage door and the store is wedged in between other stores.  There seems to be no urban sprawl but a centralization of each city.  Everything is cramped together. Even in Mexico there’s some urban sprawl.

At Abaj Takalik there were Mayans doing Mayan ceremonies and for sale there were paintings of Jesus.

14 October 2010

Getting into Guatemala has been a real hassle.  In Mexico I picked up a guy after he convinced me he could quicken the immigration process. This turned out to be completely unnecessary. He directed me to immigration and then we went to the offices of his company and not the office where I needed to get my vehicle permit. He charged me Q300 for some copies and another Q300 for his trouble.  The permit only costs Q40. He overcharged me enormously and I think at the next border I will not hire anyone to streamline the process.

However if I had not hired him I would not have met Carlos who directed me to a mechanic to fix my strut. He did not have the part so we had to drive to Malacatan. We made a trip  to the ATM and then three auto parts stores before we found the part. I told him to drive back to the bank but he did not so when we got back to the border the mechanic started work on the car while Carlos drove the taxi back to the bank. Now I have to pay twice for the taxi. Q300 for the taxi. Q500 for the mechanic. Q1600 for the part.

Juan is the mechanic. It took him a while to bang everything back into place so the shock would fit. In the process he used a long metal pipe to press down on the drum tie rods and he broke the brake line. But he fixed it and did not charge extra.

Here’s what happened to my documents: the tramitador took them and gave me his work badge to hold. So the whole time my car was getting fixed my papers were safe in the aduana’s office. When he took my papers and ran off I was extremely nervous and uncomfortable. It wasn’t until I went to sign for my car permit that I was told the fee was Q40. I paid them (the tramitadors) Q600!!!  So they overcharged and screwed me out of money. But my car also got fixed and the whole time I was away from my car in Malacatan no one stole from the vehicle. Except for the money issue they were very nice people. Ramon, who was with me a good deal of the day, asked for a little something but I said no and sped off. Two of them wanted my tennis shoes but I did not give them away. They took enough of my money. So everything worked out well in the end. The important thing is my car is now fixed. I will have to drive a lot more carefully to avoid future problems.

Official warning against paying expensive fees

This whole process took almost six hours and I ended up driving a good half hour in total darkness. That was a very dangerous thing to do. There are people walking along the highway and riding bicycles.

Guatemala is different from Mexico. It is poorer. Seems like everyone has a gold or chipped tooth. Trash along the highway. No military or police with machine guns yet.

I am at a hotel in Katarina. On the way out of Mexico a man at an intersection selling oranges shouted out “Hey New York!!  Where from!!” He said he had lived on Long Island for twenty years.

At the border there were a lot of people walking around in the street offering money changing and help with immigration and selling food or stuff and begging. Many had official looking badges for the tramitador service. The street was crowded with cars and people. The lot where my car was being worked on had a variety of half-wrecked car with license plates from Utah, Virginia, and California. Men would come and chain two or three cars together and haul them away into the depths of Guatemala. I can only wonder how those cars got there and where they were going.

There is a restaurant at this hotel and for dinner I had scrambled eggs with tomatoes, black beans, fried plantains or bananas, goat cheese?, a vanilla creme for the plantains, tortillas to wrap it all in, and coffee and water. The coffee was nescafe instant mix and when I asked for milk for the coffee I was brought a tiny bowl of powdered milk or cream. It was a good meal. This room, unlike the rooms in Mexico, has a door for the shower to make it separate from the rest of the bathroom.

I spoke in Spanish all day today with the mechanic and the tramitadors. My Spanish is still terrible.

In Malacatan every store was a store front. A building with an open front and a garage door to close it at night. The auto stores had parts hanging on the wall and a small area in the back for other larger parts. The hardware store had a gate to do business through. I saw two stores selling coffins and funerals. 

Courtney said to take risks and this is why I picked up the tramitador.  It was a big risk.

13 October 2010

I got lost trying to get out of Acayaucan. Went out of the city and hit a dead end. I turned around. Back in the city a taxi speed from behind and two cops jumped out and directed me to pull over. I had seen them on my first time through. After a lot of hassle (I basically asked if they were corrupt), I gave them my papers and they let me go. One cop even drew a map to the freeway. The road signage here is terrible.

The roads were all a mess. Construction. Washed out bridges. Potholes.  I hit a pothole I didn’t see and my rear driver-side strut pushed up into my car. It still runs but I’m going to have to get it fixed.

Coming out of the mountains there is a large wind farm. Huge, enormous windmills all across the horizon.  

I turned to follow the road but it was washed out and I had to drive through town to find the way around. I got lost and was pointed in the right direction.

The mountains are gorgeous. Sierra Madre de Chiapas. Bright green vegetation. Thick white fluffy clouds wrapped around the peaks. Part of the continental divide. It’s such a pity I have to look forward and miss the view. I can’t be sure but I think I did see a volcano. It appeared that way. Could’ve just been my vantage point. I passed two military checkpoints. We were lined up and a soldier walks by with a theremin-looking contraption. I guess it was a scanner. They let everyone go. I’m in Mapastepec. I stopped early tonight. I didn’t want to risk darkness this time.

Little fluffy clouds

Volcano?

12 October 2010

After visiting the ruins of Cempoala I considered getting a room in Vera Cruz and walking around the town but instead I drove around the city and ended up in Acayucan. I’m not sure if I’ll head to the Yucatan or continue south to Guatemala. I think I do not want to sight-see as much as I want to reach Tierra del Fuego. Visiting the Yucatan will take more time, gas, and money. Mostly I do not wish to wear out my car. I also do not wish to reach my goal too quickly.

Ruins of Cempoala

Driving at night is dangerous but I have done it each night. Acayucan is littered with rutted potholed streets. I didn’t want to stay in the city but I figured it was best since it was dark. There were no encounters with the police today but there was a long line of stalled traffic outside of Acayaucan due to construction. A bridge was washed out and there was only one temporary lane.

Long line of traffic

Mexican village

Mexico is a land of fertile green hills and mountains. Corn grows on the sides of the mountains. How do they plant and harvest on the side of a mountain? I can’t imagine they use a tractor. The land is very beautiful. I have met no Americans so far but I did see a truck with Mississippi plates. 

Mexican countryside

For dinner I had a hot dog especial (tomatoes, onions, bacon bits, and horseradish I think and rectangles of cheese slices). I went for a walk around the plaza then back to the hotel to use the internet. Very busy out there, lots of good smells. I went out a second time and ate two chicken tacos at a store front I saw earlier.

Hot Dog Especial