Montezuma

Jan 26
Early Friday morning I caught the bus with the Mexi”cans,” And a few other volunteers that where leaving the farm. The morning was bitter sweet because I had to quickly say good bye to my travel companions Eva and Hadassa as they where heading south with Trista to work on another farm and I north to visit a sorority sister. I already miss there light hearted nature and ability to laugh at everything, including themselfs and especially at/with me. I spent two hours waiting for the bus to take me to Jaco. Once in Jaco I had no idea wher to catch the next leg of my trip I just new that it existed; a water taxi from Jaco to Montezuma. It was the best day of physical travel I have had all trip because I could communicate. I had to ask for directions three separate time but I finally found the spot. A woman named Daisy set up my fare and I knew I was in the right spot. I told her one of my favorite flowers is a daisy and we got to chatting. What a confidence boost it was to have her compliment my speaking, maybe she was just being kind, but all the same it felt good.
In reality, yesterday was not my smartest day of travel. After Daisy put me in a cab to the beach where I would pick up the taxi she instructed me to meet the man in front of the fruit stand. Turns out the man was wasted and possibly lived on the beach. The wasted man hotly helped me by yelling banter at the other boat men around. In the end when no one jumped up and took me to a boat he instructed me to sit and wait till 3 pm. I could have started stressing out but I didn’t. I decided to be patient and wait it out. If the boat didn’t come I could always take a taxi back to Jaco and try again in the morning. A young fellow named Bernie came and sat next to me and we started chatting, in Spanish. He works on one of the boats as a fisherman nod wants to practice English, problem is he doesn’t know any. Alas my taxi arrived! A very fine looking fellow named Xaviour was my Captin and a 15 year old named Marlin was the first mate.
I felt like royalty in a speed boat all to myself getting chief red an hour across the sea to Montezuma. It was too bad the mother and wind wheee so loud because it would have been fun to talk to these gents. On the boat I also met an internal cross road. I could stress the entice ride about the probability of these guys robbing my small back pack and leaving me in the sea as gator bate, but again I decided to stay calm and enjoy the scenery. Costa Rica isn’t called the RICH coast on accident.
My arrival to the small bohemian beach town of Montezuma was something out of a movie, I felt like a princess. We road the boat up to shore and both men helped me out into the shallow waters; no dock at all, great service right to thee beach! I had no clue where I was headed as my dear friend Whitney Martinez had made the reservations. Again not my smartest day of travel heading to a place where I had no confirmation of a boat taxi, hostel, or even that Whit was going to be on her way. I had faith though. I bought an over price and delicious cup of ice cream so I could use the shops internet. I got the name of the hostel Whit had made reservations at, corresponded with her to find out she would arrive later in the evening. Ahhh
The beach front hostel was ramshackled, hogpodged, and perfect. The place had mosaic tiled floors of what looked like whatever tile they could get there hands on at the time and the second story balcony was healed up by large tree trunks painted an obnoxious green. I went for a sunset swim on the rocky beach then waited for Whit to arrive in a maroon hammoc overlooking the ocean. Whit arrived around 9pm, we cruised into town for some grub after filling each other in on some basic life details we headed into town for some grub around 10. I consumed an entire pizza I a was so hungry and pulled a Roya and burnt my mouth on the first bite.
We woke up early this morning, filled our water bottles and headed for the waterfalls. I have finally met my match for girls that like to jump off of things into bodies of water. We where the first tourists at the falls, there where two me who had been camping there the night before. The falls are beautiful standing about 100 feet and surrounded by high junglous cliffs, and where we first arrived there was a rainbow reaching across the width of the falls. We spent about 3 hours climbing, jumping, back flipping, diving, and being silly at the first fall, then we found out about the second fall with and even high jump.
There where two options to get to the second fall, climb through the jungle root cover cliffs or climb up the fall, we opted for the former option. The scone jump was most definitely higher than the first with a three economy free fall standing about 45-50 feet! The climb back to the top of the fall was also pretty epic. Unfortunately our rope swing attempts where not as epic or gracefull as our fall jumping endeavors. I got a running start at flung myself into some rocks in front of about 20 spectators. Not sure what hurts more, my pride or my right hip, how embarrassing.
The rest of our day in Montezuma was centered around food or I should say gluttony. I had a traditional Costa Rican plate for lunch, pescado cascado, or fish with rice, beans, cabbage, avocado, grilled veggies, amd fried plantains. Whit had the largest chicken sandwich with avocado I have ever seen. We napped in the shade of some palm trees, swam, and then returned to town for dinner, nachos with netillo, or Costa Rican sour cream, and tostones, followed by two hot fudge brownies with a scoop each of homemade ice cream! Que RICO!
Our Sunday was packed with travel by land and by sea. During our travels we compared and contrasted cultural differences between child upbringing in the states and Costa Rica. Whit informs me that children who miss behave at school are not disciplined by their teachers but rather by their parents. Also for career day at school it’s totally normal for kids to bring machetes to class. It’s interesting the level of know responsibility and level of known usage these children have to feel comfortable bringing a machete to school. I feel the opposite is true in the US depending on where you live. In the states knifes are seen as weapons not as tools for everyday use purposes, I.e. Machete= briefcase. I am not for children bringing kinds or weapons of any sort to school I am rather wondering what it would be like for children in the US to have a better understanding of these sorts of items, how they are responsibly used and maybe being allowed the experience at using one so they know. Maybe then knifes and such would half less of a mystery factor therefore less of a rebellious connotation surrounding them? Growing up I remember my dad teaching me how to use a bee bee gun and explaining how to shoot for fun responsibly…at cans. It was great fun.
I said see ya late to Whit after an eternity of sitting on a ferry and before that we had been on a bus that made us get off at one point because of a semi broken down in the middle of an uphill one and a half lane highway. My bus ride to Jaco was no better. Another semi had collided head on with a car at the entrance to another one and a half lane (two lane by Costa Rican standards) bridge. The buss driver was a boss! He wove through lanes of traffic with much more efficiency than any Southern California driver with road raged manic could have. My hostel in Jaco was one of the shittier places I have ever stayed but there was a pool and it was a block away from the beach, compromises must be made. I secured my things a headed for sunset yoga on the beach. I was having a blast until the lerkers started complementing my moves… I digress about Jaco and the most exquisite sunset I have seen thus far on my adventure.
The low tide left a film of water for the clouds above to reflect as the sun blazed a schmeering of bronzen orange,yellow and magenta. Happy hour suchi and dulce de leche gelato warped up my evening. One more encounter to mention, the Irish guy I met at the hostel. He just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the idea of paying to work on a farm in another country. I attempted to explain the joy and fulfillment I get from working towards a common goal with like minded Eco tourist. Seeing as how his entire vacation has consisted of visits to the bar and beach recoveries the next day he did not understand….

Cinder blocks and chocolate

Jan 24
Ah where to begin…
Whelp, yesterday I spent the first half of the day moving about 500 cinder blocks 200 meters with the help of about 20 volunteers. While work I couldn’t help but make the comparison between the lot of us moving cinder blocks from hand to hand at full face smashing velocity to the ancient Aztecs and Egyptians that built the most famed temples in the world. With this thought I also found a new appriciation for labor goals passed down through generations. How amazing would the party have been when one of the pyramids or Temples or a 300 year Cathedral? We, however, where only moving small kind brisk from place to place.
I kept a smile on my face all morning because that is all I could do. It was hard work and it was painful, but there’s nothing like some good old fashioned manual labor and intense challenge that’s brings a group together. While slaving away(I’m only half joking about the slaving part) I got to know the two Canadians on the farm quite well. The genial giant Martin, who cruises through work and life at a casual and steady pace, and Kelsea the babes. Kelsea is an 18 year old that is quickly becoming one of my favorite people. She is on the farm taking a GAP year from college to explore the world, herself, and hopefully to find a subject she is interested in so as to further study it. I like this old should because she is a rebel. She is rebelling against the social norms placed on her by her community and friends. She is not diving straight into college just because that’s what everyone eel is doing. She is strong, happy, courageous, and young, Annnnd to make matters even more awesome we are bunk mates.
For a well earned reward, after lunch myself and five other volunteers walked 40 minutes to the local chocolate farm for a tour! Yes a chocolate tour. We got to see the whole process from tree to blossom to pod to seed to fermenting to drying to roasting to grinding to flavoring to curing and finally to endulging! Seeing the different colored pods on the tree and eating our finished project was my favorite part. The pods came in also rats of colors and changed colors according to their stage in development.
Green pods to yellow pods
Purple pods to green yellow pods
Fuchsia pink pods to yellow orange pods
Each pod gives a different quality and quantity of cacao and fun fact of the day, dried cacao was used by the Aztecs as curancy; chocolate is good as gold. It also has, and I quote, “a shit ton of antioxidants” so eat it everyday it’s good for you.
We made a pistachio salt chocolate truffle and it was Devine. When it came time to eat our hand made truffles we where moved to another table with farm fresh raw chocolate milk from the cows on property!!! Heaven is on earth my friends.
I was no longer tired after eating all the chocolate and had a blast dancing around the kitchen making farm fresh curry back at Villas. I harvested fresh turmeric, bails, tomatoes, and lemon grass for the rice. Javier looked at me funny when I put the lemon grass in the rice but thanked me later. Martin is a pro at stir fries and everyone loved it; a nice twist on the usual flare. The evening was the icing on the cake, massage trains, beers, and falling asleep next to the Bon fire under the stars.

Breakthrough!

Jan 22
I woke up this morning accepting surrender. Surrender to the Spanish language I am where I am with it. I am not going to be fluent in a day so I need to stop beating myself up about how much I don’t know and start just being. As the universe will have it, that simple suggestion of surrender open and changed my world almost instantly.
Javier took us on an in depth tour of the farm this morning and I followed everything he said, Javier doesn’t speak English. I understood so much and so well I began to translate for people who didn’t understand as well, granted he was talking a lot about biological farm system I know well. He talked about compost, burms, Swales, hydroponics, aquaponics, and the integration of cows, forest, and crop rotations. He also touched on an interesting subject, generational acceptance and understanding. Specifically for sustainable living. This topic has been a bit of a theme on my trip, from the Mexi”cans” with their mission, to the recent high school grad taking a gap year, to the various other individuals who I’ve talked to on the farm that do not follow their parents religion or lifestyle choices. Javier was talking about the challenges he and his wife Raquel have face with their parents and their way of working the land. A commonly accepted way to work the land in Costa Rica is to dedicate the majority of the land to cattle and then mono crop the rest. The graving is not maintained properly to mimic herd migration and so the land gets degraded and hill sides begin to erode leading to the loss of top soil into rivers. It would seem that the loss of top soil/soil period would be ridiculous to farmers, but it is all they know. Javier informed us that it hasn’t been easy to explain why they have chosen permaculture instead of traditional methods. This challenge is a bit contradictory in my mind but this is me making an assumption…sustainable agriculture is a responsible way to ensure future generations are set up for success and in my mind it is the eldest generation that should be caring about the quality of life for their families future, so why is it that more often than not it is the eldest generation that is the most stubborn? It was the same way in Thailand with the Asian elephant, the eldest generation sees positive re enforcement training methods as hericy, worth killing baby elephants over!
With that all said, I look at how blessed I am to have parents that support and evolve with my changes in lifestyle. I am so blessed that they have such open minds filled with love and understanding, thanks Mom and Dad.

A new perspective

Playing a bit of catch up here… There are soooo many fun things to do and see and I get exhausted and go to bed before I can type out my journal entries.

January 20

The past 5 days have been a blur of beans, more beans, and waterfalls. More specifically two days in the bean fields atop the slippery slope followed by afternoons cooling of in the river bellow and then two days off to play. The waterfalls are incredible! The river below the bean field has small falls with dunking holes that you can sit in like bathtubs. The volunteer cow went out for a night on the town after work on Saturday. The Mexi”cans” ( Eva y Hadassa) set the mood with some Brittney Bitch… Which didn’t go over so well. They had different intentions for there evening than I did, I wanted to convers not shake it to Brittney, but I love those ladies all the same.
The whole way to the bar I practiced my best Spanish with another volunteer Jesse, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite people. She instilled in me the confidence I needed to make it through the evening smoothly. She took me under her wing and because she is such an amenable person in outraged locals to talk to “the girl that doesn’t speak that much Spanish.” I was so immersed in trying to comprehend and speak that I only had a drink… Or two… Giovanni, the bar owner, was pouring shots again and he was wasted! He poured me a shot of casece, a traditional Costa Rican drink of fermented sugar cane juice. It was quite tastey and had an added taste of aneas. By the end of the evening the man that was graciously talking to me started blatently hitting on me. When he went for the waist grab I sternly told him to respect me and that about ended the evening. Ah geeez The walk back by the light of the moon was beautiful
We had the next two days off, of which I spent one around the farm checking out another waterfall that you could slide down and then another which you could swim behind and chill out under away from the thunderous crash zone the second day I spent in Puriscal to pick up money and to hop on the net. The bus ride into Puriscal is a neck snapping one that leaves at 5am.
My mood was a bit off because of the early morning and no breakfast. So when one of my new volunteer friend’s debit card got eatten by an ATM machine was not as empathetic as I could have been. I had also been a bit of a grumpy bear towards her that morning as well. After her card was eatten ( actually my worst fear traveling) I told her what my past experiences had been I. This situation, the card is hastala bye bye. 20 minutes later when I met up with her in the bank line, which was out the door around the corner as it is the only bank for miles, she pulled me aside to talk. She addressed me on my shortness to her and how my lack of interest had bothered her very much. Her honesty and openness to address mess was impressive given our time constraints. It was great feedback and it was coming from left field for me. I really like this girl, her energy and silly nature makes me laugh a lot. I was hurt a bit and confused a bit. In the moment I did not do very well with Tolle’s method of detachment from a drama or with he second agreement of not taking anything personally, but I did take the feedback and practiced my VOMPing skills.
To be honest I had been feeling a bit detached from many of the volunteers and farm people. Thinking about it now in retrospect I have been short and a bit quiet. I have been that way because I do t want to be talking about myself all the time. However, as my brave friend pointed out to me connections Aber made by self expression and communication. She was breaking down a wall I didn’t even realize I out up. A wall of protection. The truth is I connect with people very easily, my heart is very open. My lifestyle, however, challenges these connections and great encounters are fleeting. I miss the people I meet. I want to get to know them better. I need to either 1. Come up with a better coping / separation method or 2. Be a better communicator with these people.
I will have to thank my friend before she leaves for aiding me on my path to self discovery and open heartedness.
Yesterday was another hard day of work in the bean field, actually the hardest of the days yet. We got a late start out to the field because the dew on the bean piles needed to dry. The word of the day was aporrear- to thump or hammer, and that’s exactly what we did to the beans. The bean hill at 9am was already at least 90 degrees. As the day went on I couldn’t tell which was more uncomfortable, the heat radiating from the ground or the sun beating on my back. I spent the morning running up and down a 50 degree incline collecting bean bundles from the assembly line of volunteers and placing them in the beating que. We beat the bean pods and vine piles with sticks to free the beans inside. We consumed 6 pineapples, a watermelon, and collected about 150 kilos of beans! I rode i. The tailed the whole way home to make sure the beans where safe….nah it’s just way more fun.
I though my day would end quietly, but when one of the interns called a football game I couldn’t resist. The locals kicked our butts but it was awesome to run around. I trotted the field a few times, passed the ball a few times, accidentally knocked I’ve a little kid just once, and ended up sitting out the last few minutes. The gang played until dusk stole the ball and dinner gongs could be heard around the pueblo.
I was in desperate need of a Coca, I have quickly become addicted, so Jesse and I stopped at the corner bar. She struck up a conversation that took us two more hours into our evening! The man we where talking to, Junior, changed my perspective on single men in Mastatal; he is very respectable! I was vey excited that I could follow the entire conversation! I had a hard time responding and coming up with further questions but I understood!

A Beautiful Balance

Adventure, mystery, and piracy are all very alive in Costa Rica.  Trucks of money get high jacked, the drivers taken hostage and the prirates make away with the money into the jungle.  Everytime I walk into the jungle(my new back yard) I am met by sounds and sites that I have never before wittnessed.  Tucans sing their melodies and poison dart frogs call for mates, I have yet to see a snake but I know they are watching me as I pass.

We have spent the last few days on a steep slippery slope picking beans.  With the central American sun at your back, blaring at least 90 degrees by 9AM, picking beans is no easy task.  There was a bit of a miss communication between our leaders and the job was not done as efficiently as posible and we had to go back over our work!

The volunteer gang here on the farm is really awesome, I have yet to connect with the interns.  I read aloud the first chapter of The Four Agreements to Handassa, Eva, Handassa, and Trista, they loved it.  If you have not read this book, check it out it will change your world. Some how I have managed to get a reputation for having a calming voice.  I am not sure when this came about but its not too bad of a reputation.  The enthusiasm for yoga on the farm is great!  I lead a short sun salutation as the sun set one night. What started with two people origionally turned into five by the end of the session. There where five people cramed onto the yoga deck getting there flow on, the dec is about 10×10, HA.  It feels great to be teaching and to have people enjoying.

Recently as i have been meditating I have had many colofull patterns come dance in my minds view.  The first night I arrived I meditated under the full moon, of course I arrived on a full moon…  Through my meditations I have felt more of a connection to the land and the earth than ever before.  I feel apart of the cycle, the circle, the love.  I sat in the cow pasture to contempalte this the other night.  I was trying my best to practice the second yoga Sutra, Yogash Chitta Vritti Nhirodaha.  I was peeling away the layers of the emotion I was feeling, I was searching for why I felt so much more connected here in Costa Rica than in Hawaii or California.  I came to the conclusión that the balance between nature and human is much more equal.  Any day I could encounter a poison dart frog or one of the top five deadliest snakes, they could easily take my life, just as easily as a buss could run me of the road into the jungle.  In Hawaii and California humans are boss.  In these áreas I am not in a constant Yin Yang with nature, but here I am.  Here humans are on an equal playing field with nature.  It is quite beautiful balance.

I hit my first emotional Wall at the farm.  I was woken up in the middle of a siesta to go into the small town of Mastatal, this set me off a bit unbalanced and groggly.  I accompanied a few volunteers into town for ice cream and a Coca.  Side note the Coca Cola is sooooooooooo much better here because they use real sugar and the soda doesn’t make my teeth feel like they are going to fall out.  Well, sodas turned into beers and beers turned into the local bar owner Giovani pouring shots of lacally made casetas, or fermented sugar cane. I entertained the girls I was with by drinking a beer and trying a shot of the local brew but no more.  The music got dancy and it was no accident.  To set the stage a bit, it was three in the afternoon and we where the only women in the bar with three local guys and Giovani, this was no night club.  Not wanting to re enforce any stereotypes or be the afternoon entertainment I paid my bill and left.  I got super in my head on the way back to Villas.  Why am I here in Mastatal, permaculture, travel?  How am I being of any assistance? Am I just another gringo bringing business and getting see through smiles or are my efforts on the farm making a difference.  As the Universe wills I ran into the one volunteer who understood where I was coming from.  As I hottly walked to the yoga deck I found her drinking a beer and making cups out of recycled glass beer and wine bottles.  Obviously seeing my distress she talked to me about how she had felt the same way after arriving, though she had talked to Javier, our fearless farm leader about her feelings.  His response was that loves having the volunteers. He and his wife have made the decisión to run a permaculture farm, to make their land their life, and to share their knowledge with others.  They like the energy that volunteers bring and miss everyone in the wet season, their slow season.  I need to make a better effort to get to know them.

I have been two at four different waterfalls already and havent even made a dent in the number that are around the farm.  Everything is Green and singing here.  One of my favorite memories in Costa Rica thus far has been walking up river after picking beans the first day just to float like a wáter snake back down the whole way.  I was a giant leaf on the wáter, however when it came to sliding down the foot to two foot falls I was not as graceful as a leaf.  I got pretty beat up doing this but it was so worth it.  I was living out my very own natural wáter world or Super fun Splash land, or splash mountain, except this was way better!

Lo siento for all the spelling and funky gramatical errors, I am typing on an internet café computer in Puriscal and it doesnt want to let me enter a few English words… Also pictures coming soon once I get wifi ( pronounced We Fee here hahaha)

Costa Rica

Getting on the plane to San Jose I road the wave of yesterday’s language barrier frustrations and to add to the mix I had a hell of a day with the Colone. I am learning to keep my stress level down while trying to speak Spanish so that I can keep my mind clear, it’s a slow process.
I sat next to a lovely couple that was very patient with me and wanted to converse in English. So I spoke Spanish and the husband responded in English. He threw me off with one of his questions. He wanted to know what Americans thought about Mexico… A very broad spectrum questions that I had a hard time responding to. I finally told him that most of the people I know believe Mexico is very dangerous and that it’s not safe to travel in the country, however, I did not experience this. I also told him that some California’s
Get upset about Mexicans immigrating to the US and taking jobs away from citizens, there after I told him that this idea was silly because the majority of California’s wouldn’t work the jobs that the Mexican immigrants where taking. I realize this is a generalization and that it’s getting a bit political but this is just my opinion. He is an economist that sees Mexico’s relationship with the US as a one of commerce and trade; son amigos.
The reality of my travels to Costa Rica hit me as I watched the countless number of tin roofs and shacks wiz by. I
Consulted a local about the bus system and then headed for the money machine while I waited for my bag. The colones come in increments of thousands. $25 us=$12,500 colones. When 2,000 was staring me in the face from the ATM I freaked. Thoughts of “what if it pulls 2 grand out of my account in US dollars” rolled through my head. AH! I should have guessed that something was up when I went to break one of the 1,000 bills at teller and the woman stared at me funny. Luckily I pulled out enough money for the bus ride into the city. I was also lucky enough to become acquainted with Joel. A woman from France who spoke Spanish and was kind enough to kick it with me. We had one more join our immigrant crew, a German fellow named Max. We all ended up staying at the same hostel that night.
Joel was a bit quiet. But she was a sharp traveler. I took notes from her and went along with her to check out her bus stop which was about a mile away. I don’t think she minded the company as San Jose was a very busy city and the woman at he hostel suggest that we walk with friends. Joel had been traveling on her own and reminded me of myself after getting off the Kalalau trail. She was a but introverted, or more like in a state of constant meditation. It was calming to be around her. She wasn’t really interested in me or what I was doing but she wasn’t really interested in making long term connections so she just left our experience as one of mutual connectedness for the sake of safety. I had no quams. Max and I found a hole in the wall place for dinner but the Costa Rican food doesn’t compare to Mexican food one bit.
After returning to the hostel I walked into my dorm and found Eva and Handassa laughing about the amount of luggage they brought, 3 cases each! They had come with e dream to teach English to children somewhere on the beach and wheeee not satisfied when the company they had been talking to wanted them to teach English to adults in the city. They needed direction so I invited them to come with me to the farm, and so our adventures began.
It’s been about two days since I met Eva and Handassa. Each party has agreed that the other entered their lives at an opportune time. Thank you Universe. These girls have a fabulous sense of humor and are empowered and ambitious to make a difference in their community. These two grew up in Southern Texas. Their parents are Mexican American and their upbringing has been that of a traditional Latino family. Up until their trips to Costa Rica ( this is their second time coming and they have no return ticket) they have not gotten away from their home city. Now, they struggle to gain acceptance from their parents. This acceptance is not coming easily as the mind set of their family is rooted in tradition. Tradition and culture is something I think many American family’s lack yet opposition and resistance to change is dangerous. Eva and Handassa see a future for themselves outside of getting married for the sake of being married and having children right away because their biological clocks are ticking. These girls are so passionate, kind hearted and patient. They have started a blog called Latino Blend so as to be beckons of light for other Latino women in their community that might be in a similar situation. Though they take daily resistance from their families through various social medias they respectfully stay strong. I really want one of their shirts 🙂

From howley to gringa. Hola me llama Wendy

Off to Mexico City and then on to Costa Rica!
I was excited and hesitant to leave the comfort of my fluent Spanish speaking cousin and her lovely boss. On my way to Mexico it was a nice crutch knowing I wasn’t going to have to be the sole translator for the whole week but now the tables have turned. I should really change the name of this blog to ” How to learn Spanish in a taxi cab.” Most of my best translations come when I have a quiet space and time to understand, conjugate and respond. Too bad most of the important conversations I have about which seats are boarding and were to catch the right buss are not in taxis. I had a good send off in Acapulco, my taxi driver has three kids and his oldest daughter is his “queen.” Turns out her name is Wendy and because no one can say Whitney I have also become Wendy. As he helped me into my backpack he asked me to wait before I leave because he wanted to show me something. He has named his taxi after his daughter and our name is printer on the back of the taxi, we both laugh pretty hard.
The flight to Mexico City was just fine yet it is so surprising to me how many people live in Mexico City, ITS HUGE!!! It is also very pollute. I thought Redlands was bad but Mexico City makes Redlands look like a fluffy bunny. I returned to the hostel I stayed at when I first arrived. The area is so much more beautiful and active and welcoming in the daytime!
I had about 6 hours of daylight to explore so I dropped my bags at the hostel and got started. The hostel is located in the historical district of Mexico City. Across the way sits the Plaza de la Constatucion surrounded by Placio Naciona and Templo Mejor. I was in serious need of some quiet space so The Templo Mejor or cathedral was my first stop. A mass was just finishing as I walked in and I joined in for the Padre Nuestro (shout out to señor Ponccini and St. Francis ). The cathedral was made of cement and cinder block walls with extremely slick marble floors. Beautiful wood panelling kept the depictions of the Passion safe from the loads of tourists. I sat in a pue to meditate and felt a bit weird about meditating on my chakras while in a Catholic Cathedral… At the end of my meditation I opened my eyes to Mary staring me right in the face and had an overwhelming feeling that my prayers and meditation were not finished. I haven’t recited the Hail Mary since high school but it flooded into my brain as if I had been practicing it everyday. I was reminded of the 108 sun salutations and of the rosary. I decided to mix the lot and whisper 108 Ave Maria’s. About ten deep I realized I was instinctively praying for strength, feminine power. Instinctively I was filling up for my future endeavors, thank goodness I did.
Exiting the Cathedral I took the main walking street through the historical district. I couldn’t help but beam as I walked down the street packed with people and vendors alike. The streets where like cement tunnels and the smells that emanated from the lower street sides where a mix of deep fried tostones and fuel emissions.
I stopped into a book store thinking I would pick something out to help my Spanish speaking. I was handed a three inch thick book by an employee after inquiring what I should read as a beginner. I graciously set the book down and headed for the children’s section, ah now that’s more like it. I picked a book about a group of people moving to a new planet, hahah. Checking out was interesting. There was a long line and the man behind the counter was in a rush and spoke incredibly fast. I tried my best to keep up and reply but I guess my accent is thick and we had trouble understanding one another. In the end I got the book and ended with a smile.
Back on the street I lapped around the blocks scoping out the best looking tocorias and plotting my attack. Then I attacked and it was glorious! I tried bean tacos, chicken tacos, chicken tacos with cheese, and covered them all in ample home made salsas and hot sauces. It was no easy task though, I ordered just fine but had a hard time understanding the spit fire responses. I believe I sat down in one restaurant after ordering a street taco, that was an ordeal. By the end of my taco cruise my belly was saticfied but my mind was distressed. I so badly want to be a sufficient Spanish speaker but I keep running into miss communications.
And so begins my war with language barrier… I spent the rest of the evening reading through an old Spanish note book and series of study guides I brought. To top off the night I started my book, it didn’t go so well. As a matter of fact I didn’t fall asleep until midnight even though I went to be at nine, I couldn’t turn my brain off

Oh what a night!

The last day in Acapulco was a bit of a blur. Kasey and I went out to see what the night life is all about. It was the first time I had left the hotel through the front door since I had arrived. The streets where packed with people! Horse drawn buggies clopped down e street covered in colorful balloons and flashing lights. It was a miracle that the horses didn’t spook with the lines of traffic wzzing past them. I played peekaboo with a little girl in a stroller whilst in line for a “mobile marg.” after making the kid laugh pretty hard the grandma took her away from me…oops. It was astonishing to see the number of children being dragged out to the bars, not cool mom and dad! It was also interesting to see that most of he women our age where half clothed and shakin’ it at the bar fronts doing their form of solicitation. The men our age where soliciting themselves on the street throwing fliers in our face for their establishment. We passed by a quinciner (sp?) with the new woman of the evening in a sparkly silver corset with pink seaming and a white tool skirt. She preformed a routine I would liken to an early backstreet boy dance with two of her amigos. We walked past Tacos and Beer, a recommended restaurant by my taxi driver. What a sight! It was a taco flee market. Huge pyramids of meat rotiseried in front of an open flame while the taco masters sliced paper thin sheets if meat onto fresh tortillas at an alarming speed. It was tantalizing and grotesque all at the same time.
Kasey and I participated in a balloon contest that consisted of everyone in the bar receiving a balloon animal balloon, grouping up to make new friends, and creating the most elaborate balloon creation that could reach above the top of the projection screen. What a laugh. As for the rest of the night I plead the fifth.

I spent my last day in Acapulco sleeping in the shade on the beach and still managed to get three shades darker; yes mom and Margaret I was wearing loads of sun screen. It was a good thing I double check my ticket for my flight to Mexico City because I thought it was in the evening and turns out it was for the morning!

Much time to ponder

Great news, my Hawaii tan came back within two days of being in Acapulco. Yes I have been using sun screen and sitting in the shade, the sun is just so bold. Regardless of how tan I am, I still stick out like a sore thumb. It’s been interesting to be the minority. W are the only Americans and only white people on the beach. Acapulco seems to be like the Hawaii of Mexico, the hot vacation spot for the winter. Though we are white and do attract attention we are not “an attractive nuisance” as Momma Marsh would say.

My pondering today was in Mexican societies and economy. It was a compare and contrast ponder on the differences between life growing up in Mexico and in the US. My pondering led me to conclude that in Mexico the important rules to be followed are that of cultural norms, there is a lot of grey space. In the US the Dos and Donts are clearly spelled out because of, in my opinion, a lack of personal responsibility. In Mexico you crash the jet ski you rented you pay for it not sue the jet ski company for not telling you there are rocks in the ocean to steer clear of.

My thoughts of cultural norms spilled into gratitude for my family and country for installing me confidence and empowering me as a female. I was not the only solo female backpacker getting on the plane in San Fran, however, we where all Caucasian women. The blessings of being a woman raised in the US, especially California, are abundant. I have been taking advantage of this abundance my whole life the difference now is that I have a deeper understanding and gratitude for my abundance.

Wonderful as the blessings are, there are downsides to growing up a woman in modern American society. It’s obvious that many women, myself included, struggle with self acceptance. There is this image of what we should look like, act like, and do plastered on everything; news reportings, Hollywood stars, magazines ( even the ones that are promoting health ), and in every retail and grocery store. There is no escaping. It is a challenge and a battle of being ” good enough,” tall enough, thin enough, having the clearest skin, having the latest fashion. I have honestly eaten a meal and not enjoyed it because I have a guilt complex towards my food and immediately want to run off every calorie I just ate!!! So stupid, I love food but sometimes I get so caught up in the mono culture image of a “beautiful woman.” Yoga and self awareness have been helping to deteriorate these projections. I have been practicing my Hum Sa meditation everyday. I often replay my conversation with a wise woman that lives back in Kalalau valley. I was expressing to her how I felt about this topic. She instructed me that I, and the rest of the ladies out thee, need to be CELEBRATING OUR DIFFERENECS! Forget the mono culture it’s like the mono crop, toxic. Wow, tangent. On the bright side of things I admire the women in Acapulco flaunting their curves on the beach in on piece bathing suits that look like there are from the 90’s. Hell yeah, get it girl. These women are eating deep fried tacos stuffed with cheese and potatoes, of course I also followed suit and indulged.

Pants hoe, I can’t stop laughing about the phone incident last night. This man had somehow gotten our room phone number and kept calling to make a date to take us out. After about five times of the phone ringing and us being paranoid and not picking it up, Trina finally answered the phone quietly hotly to say We did NOT want to go fishing. Turns out it was a teenager that we had met at the pool earlier and was calling to see if we where going out. It was his first time calling. Bahamas poor kid caught the tail end of another issue. Still concerning that he also had our number.

I am a very happy girl here in Acapulco. I get to instruct yoga to wonderful pupils that have great self awareness, they know how to pay attention to their bodies and muscle movement. It’s also great to have feedback from them, I am also always learning how to better myself and my practice.

Funny sights to remember:
– The conch man: this dude rolls up to the beach in his paddle boat full of conch shells tooting his shells to get attention.
– the tampon, I mean, Banaba boat riders: the people bouncing on the giant inflatable Banaba boat being toed behind a speed boat all around the bay, kills me every time.
– para sailors: these people are being dragged behinds a speed boat far bellow them on the water, they almost get tangled with other para sailors mid air, they skim the tops of the sea of umbrellas on he beach, and seem to be hanging from their necks!
– the wild man on the rock island waving me over to climb over the urchin covered rocks to goodness knows where…kinda curious but it’s sketch

Sending my love home to all those following

Acapulco at last

Mexico City in the early morning was quiet, I have had great luck with polite cab drivers. My driver this morning liked to hike and recommended I get a boyfriend so that I can speak Spanish more quickly, ha. The airline decided to leave my backpack in Mexico City
while I traveled to Acapulco. Luckily the woman helping me was patient and understanding. I wasn’t too worried as I knew my bag could be in Acapulco by the end of the day. I caught a cab another cab and was awe struck by the beauty of Acapulco. Mountainous jungle opened up to sea side cliffs and beaches. Santa Lucia bay is where our hotel is located and is where I spent the rest of the day on the beach drinking margaritas. The waters is great and the sand is soft and the company is great! Kasey, Katrina and I walked and watched the sunset, top ten vacation sunsets in my books.