Click here to view some photo highlights from the trip!

Camping gear packed in the car? Check! Clothing, cameras, directions? Check, check, check. iPod for music during our 1,525 mile road trip? Uh oh…what’s this frowny-faced icon on the screen?! Guess we have to grab whatever CDs are laying around and my old high school Discman. That’s how Carrie and my ten day trip to Canada and Upstate NY began.

Staycation:
In an effort to avoid Labor Day traffic and crowds, Carrie and I did a couple of days of Staycation in NYC. Highlights included bike riding around Governor’s Island, a trip to the Cloisters and a visit to Wave Hill Park, which we highly recommend to anyone in the area. It’s a beautiful and secluded park in the Bronx with amazing views and gardens.

Niagara and Toronto:
Our Staycation didn’t actually do much for alleviating traffic, as it took two hours just to get out of the city and another eight before we finally pulled into the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. Our patience was immediately reward, as we were treated to a fireworks display over the falls. Other highlights included the Maid of the Mist, the view from the tower that soars above the falls, wandering next to the falls and a night playing slots at the Casino because they decided under staff the place on Labor Day weekend. Also, I’m pretty sure Niagara Falls was about three times bigger the last time I was there.

Our next stop on our whirlwind trip was Toronto where I managed to get a pair of $59 front row seats behind the Blue Jay’s dugout from the box-office about 45 minutes before the start of the game. Only in Canada! We also saw a street filled with people playing leapfrog, a castle that, despite what it said on the Internet, was not free and wouldn’t even let us use the bathroom without paying and the CN Tower from below. Another highlight of the city was Toronto Island, which was a quick boat ride from the harbor, gave us amazing views of the city and let us rent a fun two-seater bike. It was also on Toronto Island where we encountered the most useless lighthouse ever: a supposedly haunted structure in the middle of the island where it could never guide any ship anywhere.

Adios Camera
Perhaps the wildest story of our trip came one evening while staying in The Beach section of Toronto with a friend. After walking along the shore we were staying with, we decided to stop for a while on a pier. Naturally, we wanted to take a photo so I found a pole sticking out of the pier that was filled in with cement. Well, the angle was wrong so we moved the camera over one pole, set the timer and pushed the button…only to see it fall backwards into what we quickly learned was a non-filled in pole. Down it went for a solid 15 foot drop…but fortunately it was both waterproof and shockproof, so we began to hatch our recovery plan.

For the next hour we joined forces with the other group of people on the pier and gathered everything we could think of to rescue the camera. In the end, no combination of rope, chain, bent hangers, flashlights or sticks could retrieve the camera so we called it a night, convinced all we needed was a little daylight to guide us.

Early the next morning, before a 300+ mile drive, we returned with rope, wire, a hook and lots of optimism. However, we quickly found that the pole had filled in with water a bit, which was no problem for a waterproof camera but made getting a hook on the camera’s strap a lot harder. After giving it a good 30 minute try, we started to wander around asking everyone we could think of if they had any ideas. Since it was past Labor Day, all pools and police stations were deserted and the best we could come up with was a yacht club a mile down the beach.

The friendly man inside the club offered us a giant hooked pool rod that we were convinced we could stick down the hole and, with its weight, have no problem hooking the strap in the water. So, after we walked the mile back to the camera carrying this giant metal rod and getting the strangest looks, we quickly found that in addition to being too long for either of us to hold by ourselves, the hook made it too wide to fit down the pole. We then tried to put the other end down the pole in an effort to wedge it against the side of the inside of the pole and pull it up that way.

Well, our brilliant idea backfired, as instead of getting a grip on the camera, we actually succeeded in wedging it inside the pole further. Oops! Our final attempt at rescue involved stripping to my boxers jumping into the water, holding my breath and actually trying to dig out the bottom of the pole and get the camera from below. In the end, all that did was open up some new holes that filled the pole up with more water, officially ending any chance we had. So, three hours after the ordeal began, Carrie and I officially said our goodbyes to the camera and to Toronto and headed off on the next leg of our journey.

Upstate NY
After leaving Canada, Carrie and I spent a night at a beautiful B&B before heading to the Adirondacks for a couple of nights of camping and hiking. Our site was gorgeous, isolated and literally right next to a lake. Our hike was great too, though we got a late start and had to with quite possibly the most useless park ranger ever, which led to us having to cut the hike short due to a lack of daylight. We awoke to pouring rain the next morning and decided to call it a vacation.

Onward to India
So that’s it…not too much craziness this trip. However, as you may or may not know, Carrie and I will be heading to India on December 10 with a one way ticket. We don’t know how long we will be gone, exactly where we will be or what we will be doing, but we want to hit up India and Southeast Asia, so there’s plenty to see…and I’m sure there will be plenty to report back on. Until then…

New York is a HUGE state. The people in Canada are so friendly. Is it a coincidence that the Canadian border guard was super nice while the NY one was a huge jerk? Why would you have six empty blackjack tables when there are huge lines to get on the few open ones. There’s nothing on the radio. Despite being a huge city, Toronto seems empty at all times. Wal-Mart in the suburbs is filled with morbidly obese people everywhere…it’s scary!

Five vacation days that don’t carry over to 2008 could mean only one thing…vacation time! Don’t worry, this email won’t be as epic as my usual ones since not as much crazy stuff happens when you’re in Florida with a rent-a-car.

YAAAAR, SAID THE PIRATE
I’m sure everyone has heard of a renaissance fair, where eccentric folks from all over dress up in medieval garb and live the lifestyle of the time for a few days. Well, in Key West they were having the Pirate Convention. Basically, the same folks who usually take part in the renaissance fare ditch their frilly aristocratic clothes for eye patches, wooden legs and bandannas. It started at the park where people had set up a pirate community, just as it would have existed on the same spot hundreds of years ago. This was complete with tents, bonfires, guns, armor, war wounds, people polishing helmits, and everyone dressed the part. The “pirates” were very friendly and talked to us in their pirate-lingo. My favorite was when I was told about how one pirate’s wench stole the evil British scallywag’s shoe the day before.

Also a part of the fun was a replica pirate village, which you had to pay a real $4 to get into, inside an old fort. There the pirates went shopping for supplies for their ships, food, ales, and, of course, wenches. This was all to prepare them for the day’s afternoon affair…a full sea battle with the British. We were a bit bummed that we were heading scuba diving that afternoon and could not stay to watch the battle, but happily boarded the boat to head out to the dive location. It was a minute or two after we passed the fort that housed the pirate village that we first spotted the pirate ship in the water. However, it seems that they spotted us too, as they began to fire their cannons at our ship as we passed by and we barely made it away with our lives intact. Well, maybe that’s a bit of a stretch…the cannonballs were blanks, but it was still pretty cool nonetheless. And then we went scuba diving. The end.

MOSQUITOES AND GATORS
After five days in beautiful and comfortable Key West, Carrie and I packed up the rental car and headed for two nights of camping in the Everglades. Despite a night filled with mosquitoes feasting on our blood, we decided to stick around and go for a hike. Literally, every other second I heard the sound of a mosquito buzzing by my head. We both had long shirts, pants, sneakers and lots of Off on, and it did nothing. We got bit through our clothes despite walking at a fast pace. When we stopped to tie a shoe or take a photo the mosquitoes would literally swarm us and we would have to swat them off the other person. Needless to say, not so much fun.

Shortly after we headed to a different, less swampy part of the Everglades where we went for a 15 mile bike ride through gator country. We must have seen at least 20 or so gators no more than five feet from us. We even saw one jump out of the water and just miss killing a bird that was misfortunate enough to fly a bit low. After that we found a remote camp site where we tucked ourselves in for one more night of being mosquito food. In the end, I had 109 mosquitoes bites on my body and Carrie wasn’t far behind.

SKY DIVING
As you may or may not know, I have a little James Bond obsession and Web site (http://www.universalexports.net). Well, as some Bond movies were filmed in Florida, I tried to find various locations and take photos. One of them was an airstrip just north of Key West, which also happened to have a skydiving shop. As Carrie and I had both done it before, we decided to give it a go. I can’t even begin to describe how amazing the view was. It took around 15 minutes to fly two miles into the sky, all the time looking down on 90 miles in all directions of water, islands and beauty. Then it was out the door, 120mph for 50 seconds, then 5 minutes of parachuting down slowly looking over the land. No crazy stories, just the most amazing thing ever.

Our rental car was the same exact car my mom just bought. In Key West we stayed with one of Carrie’s high school friends who she reconnected with on MySpace after 10 years for a few days. Jet skiing is awesome! I think mosquitoes have developed an immunity to OFF. There are about 5 hotels that claim to be the “southernmost hotel in the USA.” Airboat rides are a waste of time and money. Christmas season with palm trees is just plain weird!

Finally, I am recommending that you all NEVER FLY SPIRIT AIRLINES! They charge you $20 to check a bag and charge you for water on the flight. Their seats are small and their staff are rude. It’s like they are all still in training.

Click here to see a Snapfish album of some highlights

Here it is: the final edition of my travel emails…for now at least. I hope you have enjoyed reading them as much as I have enjoyed experiencing them. Right now I’m back in NYC looking for something fun to do this summer while making money. If anyone knows of anyone who needs a Web page designed, please point them in my direction. Hope to see you all soon…and on with the show!
 
 
The Trip to San Cristobol
After our ordeal getting to Mexico, Carrie and I wanted to make sure we got on the nice bus with AC and TV for our 4.5 hour trip from Palenque to San Cristobol. Perhaps a bit too overzealous, we arrived at the bus terminal two hours before the departure time and decided to wander around and check out other options. We eventually found a microbus (the same kind that got us to Mexico) that was leaving immediately for less money and that could get us there in less time (3 hours). As this seemed too good to be true we triple confirmed with not only the driver but with other people nearby.
 
After the three hours, we arrived in some random town in the middle of Mexico and everyone got off the bus, including the driver who was taking our bags down off the roof. “What’s going on here? This isn’t San Cristobol,” I said to the driver in Spanish. “No, this is (whatever the town was called). To go to San Cristobol you have to transfer to that other microbus over there. It’s another two hours,” he replied. He continued to claim that he told us all along that he was only taking us to this town and that we knew that getting into the bus. At this point, after being hot and cramped all morning, I lost it and started yelling at the guy calling him a liar and telling him that he knew that what he was doing was not fair and that he shouldn’t think that just because we were white that he could take advantage of us.
 
Meanwhile, Carrie is getting involved in the conversation as well, while a nearby cab driver is taunting her saying things like “shutup and go back to the U.S.A. if you have a problem.” It’s at this point that she decided she had had enough and went across the street to the local police station, if for no other reason than to make a point that you can’t just take advantage of people like that. By the time the cops arrived, both the microbus driver who had ripped us off and the cabbie that was insulting Carrie had left, but there was still a whole scene as they tried to figure out who it was. After having no luck, the cop told the driver of our next bus that he was not allowed to charge us. While the money was not the issue and we felt bad that someone else was paying the price for our driver’s dishonesty, hopefully this at least taught a little lesson that what they were doing was wrong. Probably not, but who knows.
 
 
San Cristobol
Our main motivation for going to the colonial mountain town of San Cristobol was because it was always around 70 degrees, as opposed to the 95+ that we had been in for the previous two months. However, once we got there we found an amazing city with tons to do…once we found our hotel, that is, after going through three hotels in our first 24 hours. One day trip involved a boat ride through el Cañon de Sumidero, which was just like the Grand Canyon with walls nearly 3,000 feet high. The place was filled with cool birds, crocodiles, a rock structure/waterfall that looked like a Christmas tree and a sanctuary to a rock that looked like Jesus.
 
Another wild sight was the church in San Juan Chamula, which was a small town about 20 minutes from San Cristobol. Walking into it was like stepping into Bizarro World: there were no pews or seats, the ground was covered in pine needles, everyone had set up rows and rows of little candles and people were talking in tongue. Chickens were everywhere, as some of the rituals involved blessing children with eggs and sacrificing the chicken and pouring the blood on a child’s head (we did not see this). As if that wasn’t different enough, everyone brought in sodas to use as a part of their prayers and the adults were taking tequila shots. More than any other part of the trip, this was the craziest thing I saw…sadly, cameras were not allowed inside. (For more info on the rituals, see below)
 
As our main goal in San Cristobol was to relax, we were in the perfect frame of mind when we met our new friend Ricky. A world-renowned photographer from Guatemala, he was on assignment by Telefonica, a Central American phone book company, to take photos for a book they were giving to their customers. We went out with Ricky and his assistant a couple of nights, spent an afternoon wandering around town, checked out some of his amazing photos and devoured $30 worth of tacos (mostly between the two of us while Carrie and the assistant looked on in awe…or maybe it was disgust). The funniest part was every time he would put down money for anything he would say, “this meal (or drink, or whatever), sponsored by Telefonica!” Anyway, you should definitely check out his Web site, http://www.guatemalaphotostock.com/.
 
 
Stopped By the Army at 1am
After a week in San Cristobol we headed on an 18 hour overnight bus ride to the beach town of Playa Carmen. It started humorously enough when the safety video showed us an animated clip of the bus hitting a cow in the road as the example of why we should buckle up…gotta love Central America. However, at around 1am our bus was pulled over by the army for a routine passport check/harassment stop. After they checked everyone’s bags for lord knows what, they singled out one guy to continue checking. Everyone else got back on the bus while we waited over an hour for the army to check every article of clothing he had and read every single document he was carrying in his backpack. He eventually got back on the bus, but the army kept most of his documents and some of his clothes. Were they suspicious items? Was he travelling illegally? We’ll never know, but my bet is that he just refused to bribe them and paid the price in harassment.
 
 
Playa Carmen
After our 18 hour bus ride and nearly three hours wandering around in the blazing hot sun, Carrie and I finally found a great hotel with a kitchen in our room, a pool with a slide and the friendliest staff ever…all for $35 a night. The best part was that it was not a tourist-trap place and had locals living there for months at a time, which was far more appealing for us than staying on the tourist strip. Thanks to this great find, our last week was spent relaxing, scuba diving and shopping for clothes at cheaper-than-the-USA prices while cooking our own dinners and wandering around. We also got to spend a few days with Christina (another Peace Corps volunteer) and her Nicaraguan husband, Russel, who were also heading back to the USA by bus. Finally, on our next-to-last day, we took a short bus ride to Tulum, the only Mayan costal fortress ruins in the world. While it was the smallest ruin we visited on the trip, it was also the most beautiful as the ocean was right there and there was a beach right next to it.
 
 
Planes Are My New Enemy
It wouldn’t be a trip home without a couple of more transportation woes. First, our flight from Cancun was delayed five hours, which made us miss our connecting flight to San Jose, California. So, we got a much later flight that, after three gate changes and one entire airplane switch for mechanical reasons, got into San Francisco at around 2am (instead of the original 8pm). Still, Carrie’s family was filled with troopers and they all met us at the airport and probably had to sleepwalking to work the next day. Well, after an awesome stint in Cali it was time to head back to NYC. Of course, delays were plentiful and after spending around 6 hours on the runway I finally made it home…14 hours from door to door instead of the 7 it should have been.
 
Playa Carmen This and That
There’s a WalMart in Playa Carmen. Just like in Nicaragua, Carrie and I went clothing shopping in a supermarket and got some great deals on nice clothes. We met another English couple, Darrin and Emma, while scuba diving and would up hanging out with them on Darrin’s birthday and dancing at a bar on the beach until the wee hours of the morning…we always seem to find fun people to hang out with on this trip. Playa Carmen in a tourist trap with people hounding you at every step on the main street to take their tours, buy their goods or eat at their restaurant…it gets old very fast! The prices here are getting pretty close to US prices. 
 

The Church at San Juan Chamula: A History Lesson
Amid the rough dirt tracks that criss-cross the Mayan village of San Juan Chamula, a stark, grey building stands four storeys over the others.

“The man who owns that house,” explains Caesar, an inhabitant of pure Mayan lineage, “is the distributor of Coca-Cola.”

The building is not a testament to corporate imperialism, as one might suspect. It is a testament to local religiosity.

In San Juan Chamula, an isolated settlement in the highlands of Chiapas, southern Mexico, Coca-Cola is imbibed almost continually because belching is believed to expel evil spirits. Traditionally, this task was fulfilled by a locally manufactured moonshine called posh - a beverage that is anything but high-toned. Harsh, fiery and thoroughly inebriating, that liquor of sugar cane is an evil spirit itself. Today, amid a climate rife with alcoholism, the local Maya have adopted Coke as an alternative liquid exorcist.

Chamula’s Catholic Church is adorned with billowing coloured flags. Market traders occupy the square before it with teeming and labyrinthine stalls of fruit, vegetables, textiles, machetes and household wares. Men stand in variously sized groups, smoking and talking, clad in black woolly ponchos called chuhs. Mimicking the brightly decorated exterior of the church; one particular group dons straw hats streaming with coloured ribbons.

“They are the elders of the village,” explains Caesar, “The Principales. The colour of ribbon on their hats symbolises which quarter of town they preside over.”

As we prepared to enter the church, Caesar warns me not to take any photographs. “We believe that it captures the soul,” he says. “And we are very strict about that too. A gringo was killed once for taking pictures in the church.”

The church’s interior is dim and candle-lit. Thick, sweet incense smoke rolls upward from burning cups. Pine needles blanket the floor; the walls are adorned with palms and bromeliad flowers. The room is filled with people. Some kneel before floral offerings. Some pray some sing. Some sway and swig on moonshine, strange tunes escaping harps and guitars. A crowd assembles around one of the village shamans, who holds a large, speckled chicken in his palms. As the bird makes concerned noises, the crowd begins to grin. Death comes from the shaman’s hands. And as the bird’s neck is fully wrung, its wings flap in a show of unspent, nervous energy.

The most evocative manifestations of Mayan heritage are shamanic medicine systems that involve chanting, dancing, dramatic rituals and animal sacrifice. Where the saints are worshipped in church, are merely where the old gods were made Catholic. Beyond this, ancient spirits dwell in the sacred rivers, forests and mountains surrounding Chamula. Even the symbol of the cross, so beloved to Christian theology, is merely a mask for Mayan concepts.

“In Mayan religion,” explains Caesar grinning, “the cross does not symbolise Christ. The cross is an old symbol that pre-dates the conquest. It symbolises the tree at the centre of the universe, the Ceiba tree. So you see, we did not have to accept the cross because it was already ours.”
 
Source: http://www.bootsnall.com/articles/06-09/spirits-saints-and-the-art-of-sacrifice-san-juan-chamula-mexico.html

Sadly, after 2.5 amazing months of traveling Carrie and I are hopping on a plane to California tomorrow morning. I will be out there until June 1, when I make my triumphant return to NYC for the summer. This internet cafe is slow and the photos have not finished uploading, and there are also more stories to be told…but in an effort to not have my Mexico email be as long as the Guatemala one, here is part one of Mexico!
 
 
GETTING TO MEXICO IS HALF THE FUN!
After all the transportation problems we had in Guatemala, we decided to let a company in Tikal help arrange our voyage to Mexico. For a few extra bucks we were supposed to get air conditioned (AC) rides all the way and not have to pay a fee at the border. Well, after waking up at 5am to catch our first ride, it turned out to be a hot microbus that tons of people had to cram into. To give us some air the windows were open, which would not have been so bad had we not been driving down dirt roads for hours inhaling pounds of dust. Finally we arrived at the dock where we would take a boat to the Mexican border…this part went fine except for the fact that the microbus driver had decided not to cover up our bags on top and they were all covered in dust.
 
A 40 minute boat ride later we arrived at the Mexican border and learned that we did, in fact, still have to pay the fee to enter the country. Making matters worse was the fact that we quickly learned that instead of the private AC bus, we had another hot microbus that would be stopping ever 10 minutes to pick up or drop off a local on the side of the road. The worst part was that the microbus DID have AC, but the driver refused to put it on because he said it wasted too much gas and that he had not been paid as a private bus…hence why he was picking up other passengers. Despite around 10 people complaining about the heat the whole time, he still held his ground and we pulled into Palenque, Mexico, nine hours after we left Tikal…hot, annoyed and with lungs full of dust. Still, we refused to start Mexico off on the wrong foot so we blamed the whole incident on Guatemala and wiped the irritation-slate clean.
 
 
PALENQUE
After our annoying transportation to Palenque, Carrie and I, along with Andrew and Lucie who had also travelled with us, checked into the first hotel we could find with AC. The plan was to relax for a while then go out and party, as we had arrived in Mexico on Cinco de Mayo and figured there would be parties everywhere. Well, I guess we got a little too comfy in our AC (or we set our alarm for 7am instead of 7pm…you choose), as Carrie and I took a nap and woke up at 3am. Well, determined to still make the best of it we wandered around looking for parties and, of course, found nothing. We learned the next day that Andrew and Lucie had gone out and found nothing, so we really didn’t miss anything. Big bummer considering how excited we were to be in Mexico for Cinco de Mayo.
 
The next day we headed to this cool cabana community to make our home base for a while. While it was a beautiful area, the noise of the cicadas was deafening, it was hot as can be and we got attacked my mosquitos on our porch. Other fun moments included when they started doing construction at 7am one day and when we realized that the pool was filled with lake water, algae and fish.
 
As for the Palenque ruins, they were the most massive of all the ruins we have visited…basically a reconstructed Mayan city. Despite being told that half the ruins were off limits without a guide, we still decided to go at it alone, as we had not brought enough money for a guide and they were a rip-off anyway. Sure enough, half of the park was roped off and when we tried to hop over we immediately got yelled at and told to go back…oops! Still, the ruins were amazing and well worth the visit…if not the guide.
 
 
SCUBA DIVING IN THE YUCATAN
Before leaving the Yucatan, Carrie and I were determined to get in a few more dives. Our first stop were the cenotes, which are natural limestone freshwater caves filled with stalactites, stalagmites, cool rock formations and even some fish you could feed with fruits from the nearby forest that had fallen into the water. The dives were amazing and like nothing we had ever seen before. One highlight was when we turned off our flashlights and saw the outlines of the rocks with the sun gleaming in and the forest above…very surreal.
 
Our other dives were off the coast of Cozumel, where we got a chance to check out the second largest barrier reef in the world…tons of amazing coral and animals to see as well as some fun caves to swim through. The best part was the water was so warm that we scuba dove in only our bathing suits for our last dive. So, in total on this trip Carrie and I have logged 19 dives in under two months and are completely addicted to the sport…not bad considering we were both very nervous going into it when we started.
 
 
THIS AND THAT
The new Mexican money is made out of some kind of plastic that you can’t rip or get wet. Mexico is very Americanized…especially the Yucatan. We wound up travelling and hanging out with Lucie and Andrew for more than a week in two countries. While taking photos of fruit at a market a woman threw a half-eaten veggie at me to get me to stop. I finally watched my first movie entirely in Spanish…it was Hotel Rowanda at 1am on a bus…interesting choice huh? People everywhere drive the old VW Bug, as they just stopped selling them in Mexico a few years ago…no one has the new ones. You can get Coronas in 40 ounce size here…but Mexicans don’t drink Corona and say it is the worst beer. There are tacos everywhere…and they’re cheap and delicious! As long as you are not in a tourist trap town you can still find a hotel with private bathroom for $16 a night. We took a day trip from Palenque to the Misol-Ha waterfall, Agua Clara and Agua Azul where we got to see and swim in some of the bluest water I have ever seen.

Well, I must say that these past two weeks in Guatemala have been the most action-packed of the entire trip! It all started when Carrie and I headed to Guatemala City to meet up with Melissa, who was flying in on a Thursday and leaving on that Sunday, and quickly headed over to Antigua for some QT. Since then we have been tearing through the countryside on one bad-bus ride after another and tomorrow we leave for Mexico. Now, on with the show…and the longest email ever…read what you can, photos at the bottom.
 
 
LIQUID HOT MAGMA!
Since learning about them in elementary school, I have always been fascinated by volcanoes and lava. Despite hiking one in Nicaragua, I had never actually seen lava with my own eyes. All that would change when Carrie, Melissa and I hiked Volcano Pacaya, which is just outside Antigua. The hike began with a tough climb through a forested area during which children on horses were offering the people having trouble making it up the hill a “taxi ride” on their horse. However, once we got above the canopy the real fun began…we got to hike to the actual lava flows!
 
After walking over hardened flows from previous eruptions for a while, we made our way up towards the cone and immediately began to feel the heat coming down the volcano. You could see the whitened areas that literally were hardened a few feet above underground lava rivers. Our guide only needed to touch a branch with dead leaves to the rocks and they caught fire. As we continued the hike the sulphur smell began to mix with the scent of the burning rubber of the bottoms of our sneakers. Our final reward for our hike…we literally were 10 feet from active lava flows! Carrie got to roast a marshmallow over a lava jet and I pretty much stood there awestruck and taking photos when I remembered. All in all, one of the coolest experiences of my life!
 
 
MAYAN MARKETS
Everywhere you walk in Guatemala you see indigenous people dressed in typical Mayan outfits: colorful and hot! However, the best place to see these people is in the marketplace and we made it to ones in Antigua, Solola and Chichicastenango. These markets are like nothing you have ever seen back home: imagine a flea market on a bad day and multiply that by 100. The first type of market is the local one, where people are selling foods, housewares, beans, machetes, furniture and anything else you might need in your daily life. These are loud and chaotic with people yelling and bartering everywhere.
 
The other market is the tourist one, where there are usually neatly arranged stalls each selling the same blankets, bags, tee-shirts, traditional Mayan clothing and all sorts of Nick-knacks. Here, any time they tell you a price it’s a safe bet you can get the item you’re looking at for half of that and that new price is still probably double what it cost to make the item. The merchant usually asks, “What are you looking for? I can give you a good price. What do you want to pay?” All of this comes out in one stream of talk as you begin to leave their stall to find a better price. It’s very intimidating at first but becomes a sort of a game after a while
 
 
CASA DEL MUNDO ON LAGO ATITLAN
After saying goodbye to Melissa, Carrie and I made our way to Lago Atitlan, a beautiful lake in the middle of the country. Our first stop was Casa del Mundo, a gorgeous mini-resort that our guidebook referred to as “the most magical place in all of Guatemala.” For a mere $25 per night we got a beautiful room overlooking the lake, four volcanoes and a dozen other towns. During the day we relaxed, swam and hung out in a hot tub that as heated by burning wood. Normally it required a day’s notice and hefty fee to use, but being the friendly people that we are we managed to spend both nights getting to know new friends in the hot tub. The place was honestly so amazing that we recommend it to anyone looking for a nice few day getaway. Not to mention, the chill town of San Pedro and the yoga/meditation/hippie village of San Marcos are a short boat ride away.
 
 
CHICAMON AND ALLY
During our time at Casa del Mundo, Carrie and I met Becky, a Peace Corp Guatemala volunteer who was traveling with her sister. Always interested in visiting local villages and getting to know other PC folks’ work, Becky put us in touch with Ally who is an eco-tourism volunteer. Despite the fact that we were two complete strangers, Ally graciously opened her doors to us and invited us to stay with her for a couple of days. During that time we went for an amazing tubing ride down a river by Chicaman (which was one of her eco-tourism projects), saw her work with the schoolchildren to create a world map and hung out getting to know what life is like in Guatemala. All in all a great break from our travels…thanks Ally!
 
 
BAD TIMES IN LIVINGSTON AND RIO DULCE
Two of the things Carrie was most excited about on this trip were learning how to play drums and taking a beautiful boat ride down the Rio Dulce. As you may remember, our first attempt at the drums was ruined by a bad experience with the locals in Hopkins. So, in an effort to still make it happen, we headed way out of our way to go back to another town right by Belize called Livingston, which had drumming and was right next to Rio Dulce. After a six hour bus ride complete with people trying to rip us off, we got to the dock in Puerto Barrios right as the last ferry was leaving. We then had to wait 1.5 hours for a water taxi to have enough people to make it worth their while to take us to Livingston.
 
Well, history has a way of repeating itself as moments after we got off the water taxi in Livingston we were accosted by a rasta trying to get us into a hotel. He was not doing this out of the kindness of his own heart, however. Much like in Hopkins, the locals are given little tips by the business owners for every person they bring them. This leads to them following you around and harassing you until you get to a hotel or restaurant and they can get their tip. After we finally shook the first local, another one came up and when I tried to get rid of him he basically yelled at me and threatened me…not a great start to our Livingston experience, especially after our 10 hour trip to get there.
 
Later that night, while at dinner, the first rasta decided to stand outside the restaurant because we did not tell the owner that he had recommended the place to us despite the fact that he hadnt. Well, between that and the fact that Livingston was the hottest place ever and the hotels had terrible ceiling fans that did nothing to cool us down, we headed for Rio Dulce the next day. This led to more frustration as despite having reserved our spot on the boat we had no seats. Carrie got stuck in the front where she couldn’t even see the beautiful boat ride and I was in the back, hunched over as the captain was driving the boat directly above me and the motor was blaring in my ear the whole time.
 
After all this we decided that we were done with the area and headed up to Tikal first thing the next morning. This became another ordeal as the bus that we paid top-dollar for was full and we, along with our new friends Andrew and Lucie, had to stand for four hours. Along the way we all had to get off the bus for a police checkpoint and for a fruit-inspection where they made sure we were not carrying any fruits infected with bugs that could hurt their crops. Making matters worst was that there were around 25 other people standing in the aisles, so we were crammed the whole time.
 
 
THE MAYAN RUINS AT TIKAL
The Mayan ruins at Tikal are amongst the most famous in the world and we wanted to do them right. So, along with our new friends Andrew and Lucie, we got up at 2:45am to go on a sunrise tour of the ruins. After our bus finally showed up at 3:30, we had to wait another 30 minutes while the not-so-competent folks who run the tour got their act together. Then, when we were about 20 minutes outside the ruins we had to pull over to fix a flat tire and everyone had to get out of the bus. Once it was fixed and we all piled back in, we were told there was another flat and we had to all cram into another nearby tour bus. Carrie wound up on the floor going over bumpy roads and I was crammed into a seat with five other people…not the best start to the day.
 
Once we finally got to Tikal, we basically sprinted through the massive jungle that the ruins are in to get to the sunrise lookout point in time. Meanwhile, the sky is getting brighter and brighter…an obvious sign of us missing the sunrise. However, it really didn’t matter, as it was a cloudy day and we never saw the sun anyway. We sat there for a while and listened to the sounds of the jungle as birds called each other, howler monkeys asserted their dominance and animals all around woke up to start the day.
 
After some time passed we finally began the tour and all problems from the morning slipped away. We hiked up five different temple ruins getting amazing panoramic views of Tikal. Our guide pumped us with more information than we could possibly remember and we had a great time walking around. However, when it came time to head back to our hotel, we managed to get on the slow bus that couldn’t go up a hill faster than maybe 10mph. It was hot, we were exhausted and the trip took twice as long. Just another day in Central America…but man was it worth it for those amazing ruins!
 
 
BUS AND TRANSPORTATION WOES
Somehow the first part of our trip was relatively free of transportation-related issues. This all changed our first night in Guatemala when our 6 hour bus ride turned into a nearly 10 hour ordeal that got us into one of the most dangerous capitals in Central America after midnight. Thank goodness for kind people on the bus who helped us make hotel reservations from their cell phone. On another leg of our journey, I was stuck in the front of the school bus getting my feet trampled by everyone who walked by, every minute or so. There were four of us crammed into a teeny seat and the guy next to me spent half the three hour ride sleeping on my shoulder.
 
While the front of the bus is the worst because of all the constant commotion, the back is no bargain either as it is usually hot, stuffy, smelly and the bumpiest part. We’ve spent many rides back there as well. One cool part about these horrible rides is that we were often surrounded by indigenous Mayan people, all dressed up in their traditional clothes. Unfortunately, these clothes are made of thick material and they didn’t smell too good!
 
In addition to school buses and the occasional nice coach bus, the other main form of transportation in Central America is a microbus. This is basically a minivan that you can cram up to 20 people in. These are not too much fun, but we did get a huge laugh when we rode in one that had a pig tied to the roof and every time we took a turn it would slide around and squeal. Guatemala also uses pickup trucks that cram in nearly 40 people in the back…that can’t be safe.
 
 
THIS AND THAT
A girl wore flip flops while hiking Volcano Pacaya and was surprised when she burned her foot on hot coals. We saw a parade promoting literacy in the streets of Antigua. Every country in Central America has at least a few towns called San Antonio and San Francisco. We got ripped off and paid $15 each for a car ride to a market when we later learned it cost less than $2 each on the bus…lesson learned! Once you check into a hotel (at least of the caliber we’re staying in) they don’t clean your room or change your sheets and towels until you check out.
 
Guatemala seems to be a popular destination for Israeli army folks finishing their service and wanting to let loose. Everything here seems to be written in English, Spanish and Hebrew. It’s hot as heck down here! We met a coyote who brings people illegally to the United States on a dock by Lago Atitlan…he charge $5,000 per person regardless of whether they make it safely and they have 14 days to pay it back. On Sunday, people line up around the block to pray. People carry heavy bags with their head. Speaking of heavy bags over the head, rather than walking 15 minutes out of our way, Carrie and I swam across a powerful river with our bags above our heads to not get our cameras and sneakers wet…it was the hardest swim of my life!
 
While visiting Semuc Champey (an amazing limestone swimming area) we stayed at the closest thing to a hippie commune I’ve ever been to…the only thing missing was naked people walking around. Also by Semuc, we swam through the Kah ‘Ba caves and while climbing a rope ladder up a waterfall I lived out many Goonies fantasies at once. We crammed in around a month’s worth of sightseeing into two weeks. I hope there aren’t too many error, cuz I don’t even have time to proofread this!

Though I’m currently in Antigua, Guatemala, this is the Belize email. After about 10 days I can say that Belize is a fun but overpriced country that doesn’t really feel like a part of Central America. However, we did get a visit from Brad and his girlfriend Lisa, who flew down to meet up with us for a few days and have a great (and at times sketchy) time. Oh, and we also happened to be in the country in the middle of a heat wave. I don’t know the last time I sweat this much! As always, photos and video links are at the bottom. Enjoy!
 
Visiting a Mayan Village
After a quite Easter Monday arrival to Belize (during which nothing was open), Carrie and I headed off to Blue Creek: a Mayan village where we were going to experience “typical Mayan culture, meals and more.” First, getting there was a chore as we had to take a bus then wait on the side of the road for around two hours hitching. Once there we quickly found that we would be staying in a wooden guesthouse in the village, but not actually with the locals. However, the day started picking up when we headed off to find this local cave that you could swim through to get to a waterfall. Using only a headlamp to guide us in the pitch-dark, Carrie and I swam for around 3 miles in each direction, navigating over rocks and up mini-waterfalls before finally reaching our destination. While scary at first, the entire experience was way cool and by far one of the highlights of Belize.
 
Upon returning, we saw a bunch of people crowded outside someone’s house where three men were playing the Marimba, a local instrument that looks almost like a giant xylophone. (Check out the pics and the YouTube video). We watched them play for a while then we were invited to return that night for a party and more music. Dinner was an odd experience as the food they served (a chicken and veggie soup with tortillas) seemed a bit more like what they thought we wanted to experience rather than what they usually eat. Also, dinner was advertised as the time when we would get to know the family we were eating with and talk about Mayan culture and they would share traditional stories with us. Well, all that happened is that we ate at a table with a few other white people and no one talked.
 
Well, never ones to pass up a local party, Carrie and I later headed back up to the house where we were invited back in. However, shortly after sitting down one of the guys pulled me aside and basically told me that this was a private party for his family and that they had paid to have these famous Marimba players from Guatemala flown in to perform at a competition the next day. They were also not happy that I had taken photos during the earlier practice session…despite the fact that we had asked permission. Needless to say, they asked for money…even after I explained that Carrie was a Peace Corps volunteer and that despite the fact that we were white, we did not have much money. While our invitation to stay at the house was not rescinded, we did not feel especially welcome and left shortly after. Oh well, at least we saw the cool practice session!
 
The Dangria-San Ignacio Saga
The next morning we left Blue Creek on the last bus of the day…aka, the 5:30am bus…and headed up north. On the way we wandered around Dangria (a costal city) looking for a hotel, got on a bus then quickly off it when we found out we could stay at a beautiful lodge by the Blue Hole park, ran back to the hotel to get our bags and make up an excuse and headed to the Blue Hole on a later bus. Of course, about 30 minutes into the ride our bus broke down on the side of the road for a few hours, during which the Mormans who lived on the other side of the road came out with water for all of us who were baking in the heat. Not wanting to wait anymore, Carrie and I hitched our way up to the Blue Hole then decided that it was too late to even enjoy it and just finished our commute to San Ignacio, where we were going the next morning anyway.
 
Once we got to San Ignacio we headed right for the guest house we had planned to stay at and checked in, treating ourselves to a room with a private bathroom and TV. However, we didn’t anticipate the sweltering head and even two fans on us all night could not keep us cool, so the next day we really treated ourselves and moved hotels to one with AC. Brad and Lisa were also supposed to arrive that day so we hung out and didn’t do any tours (we were saving them to do together) until checking our email an hour before they were supposed to meet us and finding that their flight had been cancelled. Not wanting to waste any more time, we booked it over to Belize City the next day to meet them and head to Hopkins, a little costal fishing village where we heard we could snorkel, scuba dive and take drum lessons from locals.
 
Hopkins
Moments after we got off the bus in Hopkins, Brad, Lisa, Carrie and I were greeted by Brian, a super-friendly local who was talking to us about how cool and fun his town was. He continued to escort us to the Kismet Inn, where we heard we could rent a mini-condo with common area, two bedrooms and a kitchen. On the way we encountered Dorothy, who ran the drumming circle place we wanted to visit. She warned us not to go to the Kismet Inn, telling us, “I can’t tell you how many people have gone there and walked back the next morning with their backpacks basically fleeing Hopkins.” To this Carrie replied, “don’t worry…we promise that won’t be us. One of the main things I want to do in Belize is take drumming lessons from you.” And with that we headed to the Kismet Inn where we found exactly what we were looking for and checked in.
 
Shortly after, we learned that there were many little problems with the house including no hot water, mosquito nets that didn’t cover the bed, overpriced and not tasty dinners that we agreed to in a moment of severe hunger, and a sketchy Rasta named Elvis who was Trish (the owner)’s lover/cook/employee. Later, while wandering around Hopkins we ran into Brian again who told us he was not happy because Trish had “dissed him” by not paying him his $5 finders fee. She claimed that because we had heard of the place before that he did not “find us” and got no money. Therefore, he decided to corner us on the street and ask for money. Rather than give it to him, Carrie made him realize that his problem was with Trish, not with us. We all returned to the Kismet Inn where he basically fought with her and tried to get Elvis on his side until she gave in and paid him.
 
Dinner was another interesting experience, as the supposedly “freshly caught seafood dinner” was obviously frozen for days, my shrimp had fallen on the floor during preparation, Brad got the wrong dish with no apology or explanation, and Elvis, who was eating with us, drank half of Lisa’s beer. Despite all this, we still agreed to go with Elvis, who was a member of the drumming circle, to check out their nightly performance. We were shocked when we came in the back enterance and he told us that it was $25 per person. There was no way that was true, but I guess after the Brian incident and due to the fact we were white and therefore must be rich, he basically made it so we could not go in without paying. We later learned that there was actually no entry fee.
 
Other drama that night included Brian basically following us around and deciding that I was now his best friend. He continued to complain how “Trish dissed me” and that he still wanted more money from us. Finally, after feeling uncomfortable and unsafe enough for one night we returned to the Kismet Inn to pass out. Our sleep was short lived, as in the middle of the night we heard Elvis return with some other locals, all loud and quite drunk. As our door had no lock on it, all four of us basically laid in bed half-expecting them to come bust in and rob us or worse. Needless to say that didn’t happen, but sure enough we were the people walking down the road the next morning with our backpacks vowing to never return to Hopkins.
 
Placencia
After our Hopkins fiasco, the four of us headed to the beach town of Placencia, where we finally found the beautiful house we were looking for: private, with kitchen, a beautiful deck and mere feet from the ocean. We spent the next four days relaxing, scuba diving, hiking and taking it easy…far from the madness of Hopkins.
 
This and That
Carrie and I went kayaking through some mangroves…very cool! Belize is very overpriced by Central America standards. The exchange rate is always based on the US dollar…2 Belize dollars always equal 1 US dollar. Though I feel like I spend my life covered in bug bites, Belize took that to a whole new level. Belize is a teeny country: there are only 250,000 total residents and the second largest city has 16,000 people. While we had a great time, it seemed like everyone was out to make a buck and much of the kind and generous feelings Carrie and I have traveling throughout the rest of Central America were lacking. Most of the indigenous people have far darker skin than in any other Central American country. English is the native language and many people don’t even speak Spanish…though many speak Creole. The only beer you can get is Beliken, which is the national beer and comes in Beer or Stout flavors…neither are too good, but the beer is better…the stout is like an inferior Guinness.