Mexico, Belize, Guatamala part one; Mexico

PICTURES! Finally. I'll download these and get them put in soon, but for now if you want to take a peak at some pictures Steve took durring this trip go HERE! The guy with the longer hair is Steve, the other is me.

Steve and I were planning a trip to Central America and we had very different approaches. He wanted a regimented plan with every day scheduled. I wanted to just show up at the airport in Cancun and start walking. Steve was getting a bit frustrated at the lack of help from me in the planning department.

I bummed some money off my dad as well as a ride to SF to get my passport, which I'd put off until the last minute. Finally my brother James and my sweetheart Bryna drove me to the airport. I got a cheap flite through Sun Trips.

Sun Trips charter a plane and then sell vacation packages to dumb college kids including tours and accomodations and the whole nine. Cancun was a spring break hot spot. At the last minute any empty seats on the plane are sold cheap, and it was in one such seat that I sat... next to a sorrority girl who "broke a freakin' nail which totally sucked cuz it was hardly likely that she'd find a decent nail shop in a third world country." I had my cola and some potato chips (about the only vegan item in my airline meal) and tried to get some rest. Steve flew to Florida the night before and would meet me at the airport in Cancun.

Landing in Mexico was great. I love the way the air feels in the tropics. It's a particular brand of himidity that will always remind me of Disneyland. I am a product of a southern California upbringing; all good things remind me of Disneyland. The airport was smaller and more utilitarion than I expected. My favorite feature was the red light green light system. If the red light came on your luggage got searched, green light; pass on through. The lights were supposedly random. The red light flashed, I was searched.

I had a couple of hours until Steve would arrive so I sat and watched as travellers passed through the lights and in no time at all I could accurately predict who'd get stopped and who'd pass on through. Sorrority girls and fraternity boys, right on through unles their hair was a bit on the long side or they weren't white, but of course that didn't come up too often.

It felt incredible to be so far from home. I'd always felt that clearing the boarders of the United States was a big accomplishment, one that would enrich me and make me somehow more capable of being the kind of person I wanted to be. I view rich or poor not only in terms of struggling to pay the bills and keep food on the table but also in terms of whether or not your able to see the world. I knew families with less money than us who went to Europe regularly.

When I was 17 I'd saved up money for a trip to Europe but then I moved out of my parent's house and spent it all on beer. I was poor. It was in my genes. I wasn't meant to go to Europe. But maybe this leopard could change his spots. Through sheer, "I'm not gonna over-think it out of happening, I'm just gonna commit and go", I'd ended up here in Mexico on my way to Belize and even Guatamala. Hell, Europe couldn't be too much harder to pull off could it?

When I saw Steve with his long hair and raver-by-night-graphic-designer-by-day clothes I had no doubt he'd be stopped and searched. He was. Once Steve got packed back up we walked outside the airport and stuck out our thumbs. Rented V.W. Bug after rented V.W. Bug full of smiling happy American college kids off to get plastered for days on end passed us by. We walked all the way to the highway without getting a lift. Once at the highway we headed south, the opposite direction of the our vapid country men. We put the thumbs out and the third car picked us up.

We were cruising along with a nice Mexican family. They shared oranges with us and refused to let us chip in for gas. They practiced their English and we practiced our Spanish and then they dropped us off at an awfull gringo bar called Senior Froggies or some such nonsense. The bar was Mexican themed, even though it was IN MEXICO! I was in Mexico dammit, I didn't want Mexican Themed, I wanted Mexcan. We had some Mexican themed beans and Mexican themed chips at the frog place and then we walked out to the beach. Gorgeous white sand, blue water, this was more ilke it. We sat under the blue sky and took it in but just for a bit. We were travelling and not yet ready for a lot of sitting around.

We checked out the little town and I noticed a raised platform in the middle of an intersection where a human traffic light would stand durring busy times. Looking around now I couldn't imagine busy times. It was siesta and things were shut down. We found a coconut vender who wasn't having his midday break yet. He told me the price and it seemed outrageous. He looked insulted when I said it was too much. I walked away. I wouldn't be the dumb American being price gouged. Then I realized I'd done my conversion in the wrong direction. The coconut was about 75 cents. I went back and ate crow, followed by some coconut. He split it open with a machete, let me drink the liquid inside and then carved out the meat and put it in a bag for me. It was delicious. The juice was sweet and tasted almost carbonated. The meat was sweet and tender, and rich enough that it had to be eaten slowly.

Steve and I headed back toward the highway but as we passed through the parking lot a gaggle of tourists were staring at a pole, so, we stared at the pole too. Five men in colorful costumes climbed up it. They all stood on a tiny platform at the top, barely big enough to hold them all. Then, as the man in the middle began playing a flute his four companions dropped off backwards. They fell toward earth until ropes tied to their ankles snapped taut. They must have really known what they were doing not to smack into the pole in the process. The little platform then began to spin, spinning also the men now hanging upside down from it. The spinning moved them further and further from the pole as it increased in speed and the ropes lengthened lowering the men to the ground. They unatached their ankles from the ropes but held onto them until they landed foot first on the ground. A sixth partner in the fun worked the crowd for tips. We might have given him a peso or two, I can't recall.

Finally the highway was reached and our thumbs were back in the air. A van pulled over within minutes. The driver and his one passenger were fellow güeros. The driver was from America and his buddy was French Canadian. The American told us they picked us up to tell us not to hitchhike or walk on this highway as it was a death trap. True there was no shoulder or sidewalk but I didn't think it was that bad. He pointed out the pull offs where we'd be slightly safer and then he got around to asking where were heading.

"South, down to Belize." one of us answered.

"Well you should check out Ixpuhah. That's where we live. It's beautiful and there's a place where you can hang your hammocks for 5 pesos a night."

Any good snorkeling?" I asked. I was real into fish and coral and stoked about snorkeling.

"Yeah, a little bit. We have a reef but it's not like what you'll see further south."

"Sounds good, let's head to Ixpuha."

Our new friends were musicians who worked around Mexico playing for tourists. It was cheap living in paradise. The French Canadian fella spoke mostly French and the American would translate but we really didn't speak to him much until we got to the island an he rented us some snorkeling gear real cheap.

Ixpuha was gorgeous. The stretch of beach was divided by five brothers. One brother was building a big resort type building. I was glad it wasn't finsihed and full of folks yet. The other brothers just rented out small shanty type houses and there were some small bars and cafe type places operating on the beach. The snorkeling was cool. The reef was mostly just grey but I knew what I was looking for and I was finding all kinds of stars, worms, a few enenomes. We swam back in and asked at the bar about dinner.

"You see that boat out there?" asked the bartender. "When they come back in with the days catch they'll play a game of volleyball. After the game they'll cook up your dinner." The bar was just a bar, on the beach, no walls. There was a palm leaf shade structure over it and a small shed where the booze could be locked up at night.

We had a few beers, some chips and salsa and we watched a good game of volley ball. There was of course no vegan option but I had decided to eat what ever I needed to eat, and to be as vegan as possible. So we both were served the one and only item on the menu, fresh caught fish.

I got my plate and the fish was looking up at me. "Steve, I don't think I can eat this."

Steve offered to trade me the beans and plantains on his plate for my fish and that was great. I wasn't expecting them to have plantains and beans when I ordered. Steve said it was the best fish he'd ever had. He tried the plantains too. We both agreed they were delicious.

The bar began to fill up. Some other travellers and some locals gathered around and drinks were poured. I noticed that the Mexican guys took their salsa from a different container than ours.

"Hey, what kind of salsa are you guys eating?" I asked, having gotten pretty comfortable with our hosts.

"Oh this is Mexican salsa for Mexicans. Too hot for you."

"No way man. I grew up eating Mexican food. I can handle it."

"No, this is too hot for most Mexicans even. This is for Yuccatan Mexicans."

"I'm sure I could handle it." I bragged. They poured a little in a cup and put it in front of me. Now, I may be an arrogant braggart but I didn't completely disregard their warnings. I dippped one corner of my chip in rather than scooping up the salsa. I took a bite. Oh My God! My mouth burned like a glowing hot coal had been placed in it. The Mexicans were doubling over with laughter. "Shot of tequila, shot of tequilla." I begged hoping it would kill the sting.

The bartender's idea of a shot of tequilla was about three times what you'd call a shot in the states. Steve had a shot too and, bottoms up. Our hosts were all patting me on the back congratulating me for trying. Ah yes, I was a brave one.

Steve and I headed down towards the water. Tide was out and it was a longer walk than it had been earlier. We sat on the sand each of us pleasantly drunk and we couldn't believe we'd only been in Mexico a few hours. My god this two week trip would be a lifetime. We talked about our dads. How they would probably never agree to travel this way but would get so much out of it if they would.

We pictched our hammocks under another wall-les structure contisting of poles for tying hammocks and a thatched roof for shade and to keep the rain off. I think it did rain a bit that night but it was warm and wonderful and it felt great to be alive.

We woke up with no hangovers, had some energy bars for breakfasts and headed back to the highway. Within an hour we reached Tulum the first of several ruins we'd plannned to see. There were no monkeys at Tulum unfortunately. The book Steve had said that the monkeys often held court there. The ruins overlooked the ocean and it was a great place to sit a while. There weren't many other visiters there and they hadn't made a theme park out of it. It was just there, for all to enjoy.

Did we reach the Mexico Belize border by that night? I can't recall. Hmmm. At any rate we did reach the border eventually. A small city called Chetumal where we stayed at a hostel. We checked in at the hostel and then went for a walk finding a nice open airy restaraunt where we had dinner and coffee. We would hunt around for the best exchange before changing money, guessing that the further from Cancun we got the better the rate would be. This seemed to hold true. At the bus stops in each town men hang out exchanging money. It's a bit frightening pulling out cash or travellers checks in the midst of a crowd of pushy men but we were treated pretty well, and I think Steve had read that this was the way to get a good rate. I kept the majority of my money in a little grouch back which hung on a long string and tucked into the front of my pants.

The town had tons of music shops, still selling cassette taps as well as CDs. Mostly selling Mexican Ranchero Dicotecha type music, which I enjoy some of but I don't know well enough to shop for. The big hit in Mexica was a song by Los del Rios called The Macarena. I knew the traditional song but this new mix was a blast. It was playing throughout the city. We had no idea a mix with an annoying valley girl vocal would drive us insane when we got home. Ha, we actually figured we could turn people on to the song.

On our way back to the hostel there was a black out. It was great to see this city lit only by the moon, but then the residents, used to such outages pulled their cars around, shined the lights into their garages, and cranked up the tunes. Blackout was as good an excuse for a mellow bit of partying as any eh?

We got to our hostel despite the darkness by going slow and stopping to think at each intersection. We crashed out and it was great to wake up in the morning, step out on the balcony and sit awhile. Steve was sleepin' soundly so I went for a walk. I met a young man who spoke as little English as I spoke Spanish. He helped me find the restaraunt Steve and I had been to the night before and I had some coffee and non-vegan pancakes. The waiter, who may also have owned the place told my new guide to beat it, and after my guide said something back to me the waiter asked if I was buying the guy a beer.

"What? Oh, um sure, yeah, one beer." He had his beer, I had my coffee and pancakes. He asked for another beer and I said no, but I offered him some pancakes. He declined. I headed back to the hostel and the guy walked with me. I politely said "adios" but he kept following me. He asked me to take his picture and he posed in the middle of an instersection. I snapped a shot of him and continued on my way. He continued to follow. I got to the hostel and he told me to give him five bucks.

"What? No! Go away. Adios! No moleste me."

Steve heard the ruckus as did an older German man who spoke Spanish. The German offered to translate and I took him up on his offer.

"This boy says he helped you out and now you need to give him five dollars."

I was running out of patience. I didn't owe this guy anything, I'd already told him to go away many times.

"Please tell him that I bought him a beer, I didn't need his help and I am going to kick his ass if he doesn't leave me alone."

The German didn't flinch and translated quite dramatically. The pest held his fist up but then he split, probably to go hassle someone else. I went upstairs with Steve and the German. We had a seat on the balcony and I told Steve that I'd had a glorious poop that morning. I talked about my poop often and Steve wasn't too keen on it. The German however, overheard and was stoked.

"I have this morning the most amazing shit. It filled up the entire bowl and peeked above the water."

"Really?" I asked, truly excited. "That's great. That sounds like the kind of poop you don't want to flush."

"I did not flush it." He informed us, beeming with pride. "Would you like to see it?"

Hell yes. I followed him to look at his poop and, doubting his own sanity, Steve actually joined us. The poop was just as described. It was a thing of beauty. We went back to the balcony.

The German had spent the past few years bicycling up and down South and Central America. His sister collected and cashed his disabillity checks in Germany and sent him money. What a life. He seemed a bit insane but happy and exciting and full of life too. We said so long and went to find a bus to Belize City.

On the way to the bus we passed through a crowded busy market. I stopped to take a photo of a very diseased dog wandering around on his own. I felt bad for the poor critter with his baggy dry scabbed over skin, but what could I do for him?

Click Here for Part 2: Belize, featuring drugs, kayaks and Belizian Bloods (as in Bloods and Crips)

Click Here for Part 3: Guatemala, featuring Mayan gods in various sexual positions for your souvenier purchasing pleasure.

Click Here for part 4: The Journey Home, featuring crazy teacher with drunk kids, booze cruise madness and more.