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      Journal Dates


Road Trip 2008
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Feb 22 #2

"Thoughts Upon Crossing the Border into Texas and Doing Four Loads of Laundry in Coin Operated Machines and Taking a Long Hot Shower"

Before I begin my musings, perhaps a bit of context:

In El Salvador, al homes have good sized pools of water walled in by concrete, with a concrete patch in the middle. The middle patch has a drain and walls of about a hand's width surrounding it. In most parts, homes have intermittently "running water". It will run from between twenty minutes to an hour about two times per day. There is no schedule, so you just have to keep alert. It is an important time in the day, because that's the time you turn on the faucet to fill up the water reservoir. Sometimes the water is cloudy and that is because there are high levels of chlorine added to it.

Although most homes are outfitted with modern systems for showers and flushing toilets, these technologies only work during the brief period of time when "el agua esta callendo" (translated as "the water is falling" ie. those few times when the water is actually flowing through the pipes. Consequently, "taking a shower" in the way we are accustomed, almost never happens. Instead, what you do is to take a "huacal" (ie. a plastic bowl) and dip it into the water reservoir and then pour it over yourself. The water is generally cool. Seeing as you are usually hot, this isn't really a problem and you feel the water falling off of you warmer than you poured it on, until you cool off sufficiently. Nevertheless, the cool water is a bit jarring, regardless. The "shower" stall is outfitted with a drain and is adjacent to the domestic reservoir. Washing dishes and clothes takes place at the same location ie. the water reservoir. This is where the central concrete part with the drain factors in...There are no sinks in the kitchens that I saw. The dishes are carried from the table/kitchen to the water reservoir in a big plastic bowl. Then each dish is washed and rinsed by another huacal ie. dipping the bowl into the reservoir and pouring the water over the dishes to rinse them. There is dish soap like the type we use available, but the majority of people buy a dry cake in a plastic container and then dip the scrubby in the container, taking soap onto the scrubby. There is no hot water (unless you have a soft hearted sister in law who will warm up pot after pot of water on an open fire and then carry these pots of water to a very large bucket in the shower stall, so that your kids will be willing to bathe!).

Clothes are also washed by hand in the same concrete part in the middle of the reservoir. First you put the clothes in huge wash basins dry, sprinkle "rinso" (which is like our laundry soap) over the clothes, and then pour water over the clothes with the huacal. Then you let the clothes soak. You are surprised to see that the water gets quite filthy! Now, to actually wash the clothes, you take out each item, spread it out on the concrete middle part so that there aren't a lot of folds, and make them initially wet by taking a huacal and dipping it in the reservoir and splashing the clothes with the water from the huacal. Once the clothing item is thoroughly wet, you take a cylindrical cake of laundry soap and rub it over the clothes. Then you scrub, rinse, scrub, rinse, scrub, rinse for a long time until the water rinsing off the clothes is clear and the clothes look clean (sometimes all the friction from all this scrubbing leads to holes in the fabric!) Then, you wring the clothing item dryish and hang it on the line to dry. When there is a lot of wash to do, there is some arranging and rearranging of the line necessary, as some clothes dry more quickly than others, or some parts of the line have more sun or shade. Jeans take the longest to dry, all the way through to the next day. When you take the clothes off of the line, you have to inspect them for tiny ants which may have fallen on the clothes from overhead trees! Those tiny ants really bite!

The smell of rain and the splatter of a few drops sends all the women scurrying to the line to remove the half dry clothes and bring them inside to dry on the backs of chairs etc. Then, of course, there is the folding and putting away...and by the time all of this is done--it's the next day and time again to do more laundry!

Although my sister in law and my niece (a beautiful, talented and extremely helpful twelve year old) helped me several times with the laundry, by the end of the visit, I was receiving disapproving glances for hoarding clean clothes and re-using dirty ones!

So, with this context, I begin my musings on entering the USA and having access to hot water and coin laundry machines.

Well, I don't need to tell you how quickly I was able to wash what would have taken me at least four hours of steady labour...just to get them wet and clean and hanging--not to include drying, organizing, folding or putting away time...Not to mention, that I wasn't really "working" while the machine was doing the washing.

After "doing" the laundry, all washed and warm from the dryer, folded and put away...I went to enjoy a nice warm shower. I was feeling pretty comfortable and satisfied--so , I had time to watch some TV. And what was on the TV? A documentary about the challenges of shipping "HAZMAT" hazardous materials. Apparently, nuclear energy has some side effects ie. radioactive waste which has been being saved in huge pools in nuclear reactors since the 1950's! Now, this waste is taking up so much space that it needs to be moved--all of it from all parts of the US will be shipped by trucks and trains to be buried in a mountain in Nevada (the Yucca Mountain Project). The magnitude of the risk is staggering...and it makes me think hard about the actual cost of all the energy consuming amenities that we've come to take for granted.

Actually, I am humbled by my Salvadorean family's ability to make a decent, happy and clean life, without the huge consumption of energy that we've come to rely on.

Tamara
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Feb 22 #1

The next few messages that I am sending will be more about reflections on this mammoth trip that we've made, as it comes to a close...this one was written as we were crossing the border back into the USA:egar

When we began this trip, I have to tell you, despite having famly in Latin America...I was fearful. I remember lying awake as a child, dreaming of travelling through Mexico by car...and worryingand worrying about "banditos" getting me and my family! I don't really know where these fears came from...they just hovered on the edges of my dreams, threatening that maybe my greatest hopes and aspirations were actually going to lead to my own destruction.

Before leaving for this trip, I worked very hard--trying to arrange for any and all eventualities. We are insured for car, business, health/medical and life. We've spent several hundreds of dollars on vaccinations for the family and the dogs. There is even a letter on my desk at home that is to be opened by my survivors (ie. birth family) in the event that we all perish.

When we first crossed the Mexican border, I am ashamed to admit, I practically considered everyone as a possible bandit! If a truck was behind us for awhile, I began to get nervous that they wanted to carjack us. Every group of people on the roadside (and there are a lot, waiting for buses etc) was potentially a gange of bandits who wanted to get us!

Where do these images come from? I realize that we have the responsibility of caring for our children and consequently we do need to be vigilant...

We've been in Latin America for about a month and a half. With the exception of the initial bad experience at the Guatemalan border, during this entire time, we've only seen hard working people. No thieves. No gangs. No bandits. Only people who are working very hard, often to earn very little, who treated us graciously. Innumerable times, we've stopped strangers to ask for directions...I wonder if our truck pulling up alongside of them made them nervous of us!? If so, they never showed it.

I remember studying something in university about the construction of the identity of "the other". The idea, is that when a group of people can be represented as "different" and possibly dangerous--or at least, at variance with our values in some significant way...we are able to ethically ignore, or even subjugate their needs.

But, if this is the case...who creates/constructs this "other"? And how are we complicit in the process? These are serious questions that I will be contemplating for awhile.

Regardless, as we prepare to cross the border back into the USA today, I am thinking about how the time that we've spent in Latin America has changed us.

Although we'll still drive only during the day, I am no longer filled with the mixture of wonder and dread. The wonder has given way to a deeper, more mature appreciation and the dread has largely disappeared.

Having said that, after the incident in Mexico City, we do try to drive like locals ie. confidently...even if it means getting lost so that we don't draw unnecessary attention to ourselves (note! we just got pulled over for speeding this morning and we did not get the "mordida" (ie. request for a bribe)--nor did we get a ticket. Instead, we got a very professional officer who just made us aware that we were driving over the speed limit. So, I don't want to give the impression that every police officer is looking for a bribe.

When we re-crossed the Mexican-Guatemalan border...the process that had initially been so overwhelming and frightening with the throngs of money changers etc., we had very little problems. It was a lengthy process...the customs official, the animal inspector, the immigration official...all were very thorough, but we are more confident of ourselves and so we don't attract people who prey on those who are insecure and unsure of themselves (note, in an upcoming message, I will be outlining exactly how the process works and things that you can do to make it smoother for yourself, so that you can approach border crossings with confidence).

If anyone even starts to clean our windshield now, we are very strict and tell them to stop immediately (which, if they are aggressive, they don't listen...then we start putting our windshield wipers on and spraying them with the washer fluid! If they get angry at you--which sometimes they do...you just congratulate yourself for avoiding a situation like we had at the Guatemalan border!)

Clean, Straight, Decisiveness--this is the body language which must be conveyed.

...Same with the food:

On the way down, we were very scared of food. We spent a lot of our budget on pre-packaged food at gas stations. Could you imagine a truck filled with kids suffering from intestinal upset and diarrhea? That's what we were afraid of.

Now, on the way home, we only buy gas and the occasional cold drink at gas stations. Everything else, we buy from food vendors and comedors (see earlier comments on how to choose a place to eat, and note that you should also look for semi-trucks stopped in front and people eating in the place...)

It is possible to travel through Latin America in a bubble...eating only at chains in order to preserve health...but then again, you might as well drive to Merritt! We ate gorgeous tacos in Arriaga, a wonderful home-style meal in a tiny truck stop in Oaxaca, a complex and delicious meal of seafood "Veracruzano" and countless delicious pupusas in El Salvador...food is a very important part of the culture, and eating meals is part of the process of partaking of and indulging in culture. One of the things that I'll take away with me, is a heightened understanding of the role that food plays in culture. One of the ways of showing love, is to provide a meal cooked with love--we ate and ate and ate countless meals with Jerson's family in El Salvador. And the people who are preparing the food, take time to meticulously cut each vegetable into tiny pieces so that the flavours meld flawlessly into a coherent and complex dish.


Hope to be seeing you soon...
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Feb 20

...sorry to leave you in that uncomfortable situation at the Guatemalan border. Well, what happened was that he was surly and threatening and we were concerned that if we didn't give him the $20.00 US, he might decide that he was justified in doing us some kind of harm. So, we tried to ascertain what the feeling was among the rest of the group that had clung to us to determine if they were in agreement with him or with us...we finally exchanged some pesos into quetzales, apologized for any misunderstanding that we'd had and paid him less than $20.00 US, but in the quetzals that he'd insisted upon, as opposed to Mexican pesos which he'd refused (which made no sense to us at all, considering that we'd had encountered him on the Mexican side of the border crossing.

we decided that the whole situation had gone sour. And we didn't want to give away our passports, or our money to strangers, so we thanked our self-appointed "coyote", apologized for any inconvenience, paid him some money and drove away.

We drove back to Tapachula, where we licked our wounds, regrouped and tried to decide whether we should go back to try to get the vehicle importa permit from a larger centre...but I was unwilling to go back over those horrible mountains to Oaxaca...so finally, we decided to try to cross again, at another border crossing about 40 minutes south.

It was still cumbersome, but we were more experienced. Next time, we'll remember the vehicle import permit and then they won't have anything on us!

Okay, after the Guatemala crossing, I basically stopped taking notes on the trip! I don't know what came over me...but now I have nothing to tell you about. We had a wonderful time in El Salvador...the kids got to know their family and now they actually want to learn Spanish!We will also have a bunch of homeschooling projects to work on...like learning about the volcano that created the Lake Ilopango where the children swam, finding out more about the Mixtecs, the Totecs, the Aztecs, the Zapotecs and the Pipil peoples of the Americas, etc. We got to see pineapples growing (from the ground, I'd always thought on trees...), coconuts (much larger and greener than the ones we get in the stores, mangos (grow on gorgeous big trees, like I'd never imagined), bananas (more varieties than we've ever seen...) Spent some really quality time with our family and then went back through Guatemala without incident. We are now on our way back home and we are looking forward to seeing all of you again!

Love Tamara and Jerson and the kids and the dogs

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Feb 8 #1

Mexico City

Itīs been a couple of days since writing about the journey...so I hope that thereīs not too much of a slip in continuity! It is hard to find time to write here...

Anyway, as we entered Mexico D.F., there was an immediate and stark contrast between the lush pine forests and the high rise urban metropolis. The Periferico is a major highway which circles the perimeter of Mexico City. We were on the Periferico driving southwards, but not really knowing where we were going when the police came up from behind us and motioned that we were to pull over as soon as we could. We did. And a very gallant and polite police officer asked to see Jersonīs drivers licence...but then his eye caught our winshield and the lack of a "permiso de importacion de vehiculos" and he immediately lost interest in the drivers license and began to question us about our papers for the truck.

...well, I have to go back to January 1, 2008 when we first crossed the border at Nogales to give you (and the same explanation to the officer)...

When we crossed, it was a national holiday, being the first day of 2008. Consequently, it wasnīt exactly well staffed at the border. There was a bit of photocopying and some stamping, and they showed me where to buy insurance...but that was it. I asked and reconfirmed if there was anything else that I needed to do (having read beforehand about the need for this vehicle importation permission)...but they insisted that that was it. They were a bit officious...and I was nervous, being that it was the first time that I ever crossed the US-Mexican border by vehicle. I didnīt want to insist...they had guns, you know! So, we drove off from the border area without the vehicle being officially imported with some kind of process. It could be that because there is a sort of tourism program that the vehicles do not need any sort of importation documentaton within that state...but when we travelled further south...there was no opportunity to get the vehicle importation. So, there we were in Mexico without it...seemingly without incident...until Mexico City....and later again at the border...but thatīs another story!

Well, back to the police officers at the entrance to Mexico City...

They immediately landed on the fact that we had no importation documents for our vehicle. I explained patiently what had happened and that the fault was with the officials at the border at Nogales. To no avail. He charmingly pointed to a little handbook that explained the necessity for having an importation permit for the truck. He spent quite a bit of time with me ( I was doing the talking...a recommendation from the internet that if the police officer is a man, itīs best to have a woman do the talking and if the police officer-official is a woman, itīs best to have the man do the talking...a rather dubious piece of advice, but it WAS from the internet!) explaining the need for the importation documents, like as if I didnīt understand. He explained and re explained that my vehicle was in the country illegally and that he had the right to make the decision whether he should impound the vehicle. There was the kicker. The invitation for me to make him an offer. I didnīt take it. Instead, I suggested that we call the Canadian Embassy, since the fault was with the Mexican border officials at Nogales who shouldnīt have let us proceed without the proper permits. He asked why I was so "brava" (ie. angry woman) and suggested that I calm down (oh, yes...I was feeling very calm, he was talking about impounding my vehicle and I was supposed to be cheerful...well, actually, thatīs true...I was... you see if there is anything that Iīve learned in Latin America...itīs that no matter what...one is always charming and polite NO MATTER WHAT!) I hadnīt really learned that at that point. I was tired, and hungry and flustered and scared. He came back around and suggested that perhaps there was a way that we could resolve the situation. I said that there was, that he could take the truck and enjoy it! He once again suggested that I was not being exactly graceful in the situation. He suggested that I needed to understand that the decision lay with him whether we should continue our journey or be stopped in beaurocratic circles. Again, I didnīt take the bait. Why? Because Iīd seen too many police shows where the whole goal was to get the officer to request a bribe and then it gets recorded and then justice is done. So, finally, he made the request for the bribe..."if you help me economically, I can help you". That was it...no great dramatic justice for me...nothing happened...Finally, I asked "How much?" He said $100.00 U.S.!!!! Can you believe it!? I was shocked and I made a great dramatic show of how l had no money in my secret pouch or my wallet. I got Jerson to open up his wallet to procure $10.00 U.S. Really, we do travel on a shoe string...I explained that I really didnīt have anymore and that even giving him this much was going to leave us short! But, then I opened up the ashtray where there was a few pesos and offered to give them to him as well. He most graciously declined them and accepted the $10.00. Then he helpfully provided directions on how we should navigate the Periferico to exit in order to reach Puebla...and they were directions that we really really did need! So, actually, he earned the money and we were happy for him to have it.

However, we will do anything we can to avoid Mexico D.F. because our feeling is that even if he hadnīt found the missing importation, he would have found something else. Our feeling is that police officers probably hang out at the entrance to Mexico City hunting for unwary victims with foreign license plates and we want to avoid them as much as possible.

Before this incident, whenever I saw a police officer in Mexico, (naive as it may have been ) I felt sort of protected or safe. After this incident, whenever I saw a police officer, I felt jittery and nervous...ready for another inspection to find us lacking the necessary documents.

Next part of the journey...Puebla
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Feb 8 #2

Puebla...perhaps because we didnīt have the time to explore it properly, our impression of Puebla was that it was losing itīs core vitality. Strip development and big box stores string out along the highway, as well as masses of two storey housing complexes...we werenīt sure if it was government housing to support the poor, or if it was some kind of live-work-play north american style development..but they were cramped, with no greenery and there was a lot of them!

Tehuacan...finally, we can stop comparing the landscape to the Okanagan! Here are vast expanses of cactus and some parts look like a landscape from Dr. Seussī Horton Hears a Who! Here, the Sierra Madre del Sur Mountains are large, golden, grey, or rose coloured (depending on the light) and they are just beautiful!

At one point in the drive, we stopped at a summit and we were surrounded by tops of mountains and deep valleys. It was exquisite!

After all those mountains and their deep canyons, we came to an area of Muntains of deep rust red brown with more lush verdant greens interspersed with grasses, like straw. The tops of the grasses were shiny and glowing ...feathery beauty in the sun.

Oaxaca...

The Zocalo (the central square which is bounded by the Church, the City Hall, and cafes) is vibrant. We could not resist to go to a little cafe where there was musicians playing violins. It felt like something out of a movie set...and they allowed us to bring Guapo (the Mastiff) and Chula (the multipoo) along with us.

We sat at a table next to an elegant gentleman who told us many stories. He told us that he had six dogs at his home in Chiapas. He told us about how when he was a teenager, he fell in love with an American woman and went with her to the United States. He told us that one day, out of the blue...migration officials came and forcibly took him and sent him back to Mexico and that he was never able to say goodbye to his sweetheart. And that when she came home, she thought that he had abandoned her and her newborn baby. He told us about how he had recently been kidnapped for his money and that he had to sell his houses in order to secure the ransom. All these stories, we listened to, while the kids played in the trees of the zocalo and we nodded and shook our heads at various vendors who would weave through the tables to sell their wares. Finally, we broke free from his spellbinding tales, and made our way back to the truck to go to Monte Alban.

Monte Alban was beautiful! We saw it as the sun set over Oaxaca. We went to a part of the mountain that had not been archeologically explored and revealed...but that was clearly ruins, just overgrown with mountain trees and vegetation. Tamar and Jerson and Hoelune delighted in finding artifacts (ie rocks that were obviously part of steps, or walls and not naturally smooth and straight edged)...which we painstakingly returned so as to not be disrespectful to that culture or to contemporary Mexican culture.

Leaving Oaxaca, there are sensuous undulating hills. There is dense population here...but somehow, even though their homes creep up the mountain sides, they do not seem to be at odds with the mountains themselves (this I again noticed in El Salvador, but not in the new developments which are much like ours in Canada ie. imposing straight lines and grids and levels on essentially curvy and mountainous terrain). In Oaxaca, there isnīt that stark contrast of urbanisation eating up the mountain, like there is in the Okanagan. Maybe it has to do with the size of houses, or the narrow roads or the established domestic plantings...(this was my musing when I wrote my original comments, but now I can see that it has more to do with how the development follows the natural lines of the mountains ie. with narrow and steep streets, rather than carving wide, level streets etc. into the mountain.)

The Mex 190 was not a cuota highway. There were no more cuota highways south of Oaxaca and I think that you have already read my comments about this dangerous road which weaves through the mountains with only one lane going each way...deep drop offs, big trucks constantly crossing the centre line, no visibility, no signs and constant switchbacks. When not worrying about our odds for survival, we took the time to admire the agave planted at 75 degree angles up the mountain! When we finally came down from the mountains, the climate became moist. Paper folds like clothes instead of crackling here. We did not pass through San Cristobal de las Casas, which apparently is the hotbed of political unrest...we went the southern route and were relieved to find a nice flat highway with two lanes dedicaed to one direction the whole way!

Chiapas seems to be largely uncultivated or at least apparently uncultivated to my eyes which associate cultivation with large tracts of monoculture agricutural production. It seems to be sparsely populated with few villages (at least along the route we took). There are several rivers and lots of fields that seem to have been strewn with multiple sizes of boulders. I was relieved to have actually seen some water flowing in the river beds...if little water compared to the amount the river beds hold (note a comment here...now I realize that we are here at the end of the dry season...the wet season will commence in March and all will flow again..but at the time I wrote my original comments, I was worried about climate change and the effect that global warming would have on the people...thatīs probably still a valid concern...for all of us in all parts of the world!!)

Tapachula seems to be a very smallish town (drawn deceivingly large on the map we were using), which is dominated by a large Samīs Club. The people shopping at Samīs Club are doing all the same things we do in North America...buying large quantities and truckng them out to vehicles in the parking lot. I wonder about the impact that this is having on the core of Tapachula but do not have time to investigate further, because we are at the border of Guatemala and we want to cross as soon as possible!!!

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Feb 8 # 3

It seemed simple enough. There was the big sign that directed toward Guatemala. We followed the road. All was well and calm, until we came toward what looked like a village...a group of men started gesturing toward us and shouting. It was a cacaphony. Having read so much about the dangers of Guatemala and the possibilty of being carjacked, I told Jerson to keep going and to speed up not to stop under any circumstances!!!....that was until I saw a fellow flashing an official looking neck card. Then I remembered  the other advice that Iīd heard..when at borders, you must stop when requested by officials or they may shoot!!!! What to do!? The men werenīt dressed in uniform, but they had official identification badges! Confusion. Decided to stop. The man ran all the way to the truck, he told us he worked for the Guatemalan blah blah blah and we had to follow his directions...it all seemed a little shaky, but then agan, Guatemala is a poor country...maybe they couldnīt afford uniforms? So, he jumped on the back of our truck and we drove toward the border.

Now, Iīd read about crossing the Guatemalan border on the internet (yes, I researched this trip as much as I could for all angles and I used the information that Iīd found on the net, too). One person posting on some site about driving though to Central America mentioned people who "help" at the border for a small fee. They said that these people were extremely helpful and that they definitely assisted in crossing. Mind you, they also said that these helpful folk were children...and children these were definitely NOT! Anyways, something rang a bell, and I realized that he might only be quasi official if official at all. But, it was too late. As we came toward the border crossing area, we were thronged by a huge group of men who were all shouting at the same time. Some had thick wads of cash in their hands, to convert pesos into quetzals...others had those photo idīs, others were just hangers on of various types. One man began, on the Mexico side, washing the winshield. This is no different than in Victoria, generally. It had happened all throughout Mexico that hardworking men would begin washing the winshield...then they would collect a few pesos and be on their way with very little interaction. Well, we actually told this guy that it was okay to wash the winshield and we gave him a few pesos. It was chaotic. The guide who had initially stopped us took full control and guided us to a pay parking area off of the main border road. In this parking lot, the guy who had washed the winshield began to wash the whole truck with his grimy cloth and bottle of water. I didnīt stop him, because I thought that he was trying to give value for the pesos that Jerson had given him. I was a little annoyed, because I didnīt want to advertise a nice clean carjackable truck (which in reality ours isnīt because it is much too old! But that is beside the point...) but I didnīt want to take away his dignity or his profession, so I didnīt say anything. Then the guide took us to the photocopy place for us to photocopy the documents and he asked about the vehicle import permit...we explained about not having it. It would be a problem, he said. We would have trouble leaving Mexico but everything can be arranged. Did that sound like what the policeman in Mexico City had said? Your right, it did. That is a euphemism for, youīre going to pay! Well, he wanted to have my original documents ie. my passport and my drivers papers. I refused to give them over. He said that he was going to have difficulty helping us if I didnīt cooperate. This was being said in rapid fire spoken slurring Spanish as we walked quickly through a narrow street full of vendors etc. while we were trying to watch simultaneously our three kids the two dogs...it was rush rush rush. Then I got mad. I said that I wasnīt going to do anything in this rushy rushy mode and that we could just forget working like that because that was how big mistakes were made. I went with him to the Mexican Immigration, that went smoothly, except that the official there told me that I should be having nothing to do with that man! Then we went to Mexican customs, where they asked for that importation vehicle document which we didnīt have. I told her that we didnīt have it...they shook their heads and said that they couldnīt help us. We would have to talk to her boss...Our "coyote" whisked us away at that point and we regrouped where the car was parked. He told us that he could speed up the process...that he could take care of everything and make the problem of the importation permit go away...for 200.00 U.S. He would need my original vehicle documents and my identification documents. I said that I wouldnīt hand them over, that I could go along with him, and also that we didnīt have that kind of money! He said that maybe he could do it for less money but that it was a delicate situation of negotiation and for that reason I couldnīt go along. He went away to check on the situation. Now, weīre standing by the car and it has been sort of half washed. Itīs still grubby on the top etc. But, we are wanting to support the fellow in his gracious gesture and so we thank him for the nice job. Then he tells us that we owe him the equivalent of $20.00 U.S. in quetzales!!!!!  He glares at us threateningly. And thatīs where I have to end the story because I am expected back home right now!

Tamara
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Jan 29

From Guadalajara we went to Morelia. Morelia is an absolutely beautiful city! They have protected their centre core so that all the heritage buildings and cobblestone streets are still intact. Even BurgerKing cannot put their neon sign on the outside of the building...this translates into a beautiful coherent core city...which I found to be in direct contrast to the haphazardly developed and graffiti filled core of Guadalajara.
 
In Morelia, we found a wonderful place which specializes in tacos al pastor. Tacos al pastor is pork which is seasoned with spices put onto a vertical rotisserie along with a pineapple. Then a chef specializing in tacos al pastor very thinly shaves off slices of the pork as they are cooked. It is not like anything Iīve tasted before...even though Iīve eaten tacos al pastor in North America. The vertical rotisserie is seriously cooking...not like the limpid heater cooked vertical rotisseries like Iīve seen in Canada which always look lonely and abandoned! The tacos are then topped with diced onion, and cilantro. All the tables have common dishes of these sorts of toppings, as well as salsas. Since we were not willing to risk gastrointestinal illness, we did not partake of the condiments. But, the tacos were still delicious!
 
There is a huge church in the centre of Morelia. It has several different altars with different life sized altars to various virgins. Each virgin has her adherents, though, as each one had beautiful offerings of flowers. It also had various Catholic saints,  like a life sized monk with a child. All saints and virgins look distinctly European. It made me wonder about the Virgin of Guadalupe who, according to my guidebook, was a previously incarnate as an Indigenous goddess...
 
Everywhere, the architecture is imposing and made of rock. On one hand, I felt very privileged to be able to see the beautiful colonial architecture of Morelia. But, because the city is so well preserved...it made me think about how the indigenous peoples must have felt in these huge, imposing environments. I mean, it is fun for me, because I have access to all the beauty and my life is not seriously impacted by the Spanish Empire. But for those who were being colonized and converted...the architecture was not a sort of romantic evidence of an older epoch...it represented a culture that was successfully taking over their own. The powerful pillars and arches were not for all to enjoy...they were the seat of power where decisions were made which forced so many people off of their lands and caused them to become landless peasants. Itīs a little like going to the Maritime Museum in Bastion Square and admiring the beautiful building, and having a vague awareness that this is also the site of so many public hangings. Now, the Maritime Museum is a beautiful historic addition to Victoriaīs landscape, but what was it before?
 
In both Guadalajara and Morelia, the streets are named for the heroes of the Mexican Revolution and the Mexican War of Independance against the French. I still donīt know the story of the children heroes, but there are streets of Los Ninos Heroes in both cities. And, Iīm sure that it is a tragic one! Streets are named after heroes like Benito Juarez, and they are called Independencia or Libertad.  It is a little like the Quebec license plate...je me souvien...I wonder what the psychological effect of seeing these street names is...or if there is any at all, like when you see something so many times...you no longer really see it like you did the first time....
 
Anyway,  cming out of Morelia on the Mexico Cuota, we saw the sun rise on the Lake. It was beautiful, with the lake reflective of the lightening day. In the lake, you can see areas of plant growth. The thick plants are growing along the shore and in the middle of the lake. I am not used to seeing this sort of growth on a lake! I never before understood how Mexico City was built upon a lake, with artificial islands...but after seeing this, I can understand it! All they would have to do would be to encourage this sort of natural dense plant growth, and they would be able to build it up! Itīs amazing how important it is to visit a site to really understand how things worked...because we only have the experience that is within us to try to make sense of things. The Okanagan Lake milfoil weeds could never prepare me to understand the type of plant growth here in Mexico!
 
The climate in this area is changing...now there are fluffy, stocky ponderosa pines.
 
The trip from Morelia to Mexico City, Distito Federal...
 
We were nervous about going through Mexico City to get into Puebla. Every time we stopped for gas, we would ask if we could detour and everytime the answer was "no". So, we steeled ourselves to drive the"periferico" around Mexico City to get to the exit for the highway to Puebla.
 
The road leading to Mexico City goes through beautiful lush pine forests. The mountains all around are so similar to the Okanagan in the summer! As you descend into Mexico City from that lush mountainous forest, you are immediately struck by the stark contrast of the highrise modern urban metropolis. Before we knew it, we were driving on the Periferico...the very thing weīd been dreading and avoiding since planning the trip months ago!
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Jan 26
We last left you in the area coming out of Mazatlan, where the accident occurred. Of course, this gave us a very direct experience of our mortality and of the fragility of life. We decided after this, to stop pushing so hard to make deadlines and to allow the trip to unfold. We felt that it would be better to arrive behind schedule, rather than to not arrive at all due to a dangerous rush rush attitude. I have to tell you, even so many days later, I am left with the vivid memory of the hearse, the crushed SUV and the assorted personal belongings piled up on the side of the road. If you read the section about driving through the mountainous sections and the dangerous roads, you will begin to understand why we are taking so long. Somehow, it has to do with being secure and making our steps based on not taking chances. The fact that the family was returning from the South to Oregon hit me so hard as well. I know that we are behind schedule and I feel badly about that. We miss all of you. But we are going to take the time that it takes. Especially since having a push push attitude down here just makes things take longer. There are so many levels of security guards, and border officials, and police. You just have to let the thing take the time that it is going to take, or you go crazy. Not to mention, you start to take chances. We are very aware of the fact that we are responsible for the health and well being of our children as well, and that we need to protect them as our first priority. The second priority is to return home to all of you and Hernande"z safely.
 
Okay, so to tell you about the rest of the trip...
 
From Mazatlan, we drove to Tequila. Jerson wanted to see the tequila factories. The blue agave gives a dusty bluish cast to the areas where it is planted. The plant seems to thrive in dry, hot climate and apparently otherwise "unproductive" land. I had to watch Guapo and Chula while the family took the tour of the facilities, so you"ll have to ask them about the details. But, the land was beautiful! The various tequila factories...and there are a lot that we"ve never heard of or had access to in Canada...have the trademark on the name "tequila" and no other part of Mexico can produce Tequila.
 
In Tequila, we befriended a dog. He was quite annoying actually, because he wanted to play with Guapo...but he had a major problem with his skin and fur and his eyes were all red...so he looked a bit like something from a Stephen King novel. I was worried that he would be contagious. He seemed to live in the central square in Tequila. He was just a puppy...but he was so playful, that I was sure that if he could get better, then someone would want to adopt him. The whole time we were in Tequila, we fed him. And when I left, I gave some antibiotics to the tour guides to give to him. Hopefully he gets healthy. The thing is that there are so many dogs down here! And so many dogs that just run around looking skinny and malnourished. No wonder why the hotels don"t allow pets!
 
On the road out of Tequila, we took a wrong turn and ended up on the regular highway, rather than the cuota highway. There was a lot of traffic. I think this is because cuota roads cost quite a bit (I"ll add up all the cuota receipts to give you an idea of how much it costs, but it is not like the Coquihalla, where you pay once for a huge stretch of highway...you pay and then drive for a few minutes and then pay again! But like I said yesterday, it is worth it.
 
We took the road from Tequila to Guadalajara. We had to actually enter Guadalajara because we had to purchase more car insurance (we were running behind schedule already and the car insurance was about to run out...actually, I made it to the office in Guadalajara to purchase insurance one minute before the actual insurance ran out!). You cannot purchase car insurance, except in the major cities ie. Guadalajara, Mexico City, Monterrey...this is important information if you are travelling, because you can easily get stranded. We assumed that it would be relatively easy to purchase insurance anywhere in Mexico, but we were very wrong.
 
Anyway, Guadalajara is a HUGE city. And it is a bit difficult to navigate because the roads change names at the Zolcalo. Mostly we got around by driving a little way, asking directions, making a mistake, returning to something that looked relatively familiar, asking directions from somebody else and continuing on like that. When people give directions, it is very difficult to follow them because even if you speak Spanish, they are not referring to landmarks or street names, they just tell you "drive along for two streetlights", then they make a sort of movement with their arms to indicate how to turn...and then they say something else that seems unintelligible and then make another movement with their arms in a sort of curving way...and then give you a brilliant smile. And you feel like it would be rude to try to pin them down to street names or to take up more of their time, so you give them a bright smile, too and drive off for a few more meters to repeat the experience.
 
At the insurance place, it took two hours to purchase insurance. A transaction that usually takes about 15 minutes here. You have to wait and then go the the manager, and then wait some more, and then go to where there is a place to pay, and then return to the manager with the receipt and then wait some more...like that. Everyone is so hospitable along the way, though, that it is hard to get upset with the waits. It is part of the culture here. There is no point trying to rush it. They have their various levels of administration and systems of authorization and there is no point trying to impose our values or expectations on them.
 
Guadalajara itself has old colonial houses, narrow streets and all the charm of an old colonial city. However, it is being suffocated by industrialization. A huge neon KFC sign shouts out, a contrast to the beautiful old churches. They have Seven/Eleven stores, Starbucks and McDonalds, but when you walk past some of the colonial houses and peek past the windows, you get a glimpse of the beauty and grandeur of 300 years ago. The once huge monuments and cathedrals magnificence is diminshed by the huge modern buildings of glass and steel.  The central plaza lacks the vibrancy that we found in some smaller towns. There were not many vendors or tacos stands on the street..if you want to have a small business there, you will need to be able to rent a space and pay accordingly. This eliminates the family run businesses in favour of larger enterprises.
 
In Guadalajara, the industrial revolution has had a definite impact. I do not know if you would call it the industrial economy or the post industrial economy...whatever it is, the landscape is reflecting a major change.
 
I have to go now, my sister in law and my niece have been waiting patiently for too long. Will write more as soon as I get time!
 
Love Tamara
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Jan 25
Hello Friends! So sorry for the delay in updating. The keyboards were frustrating me, combined with a very busy flurry of visiting all the various parts of Jersonīs family...the updates just fell sideways. Iīll start off where we left off last so that you can continue the journey as we made it and then Iīll bring you up to date on the activities in El Salvador which is where we are now (still).
 
We went from Mazatlan...oh! I cannot find my notes! Okay, Iīll go back home and look at the map. But in the meantime, please read these commentaries that I still have in my notes about driving in Mexico. They are written at two different times...both are about driving but the first one is more of a socio/cultural commentary and the second one was written more about the road conditions once we left the cuota roads (there arenīt any more in Oaxaca southwards!)
 
A Word about Driving In Mexico...
 
I read about the dangerous driving conditions in Mexico before we left. The roads that weīve taken thus far have been all well marked and well maintained cuota roads. We havenīt encountered any aggressive driving by trucks or buses on these roads. What I have noticed is that Mexican drivers are generally good communicators. They signal with flashing lights if they are going slower than the normal flow of traffic and they will drive on the shoulder to enable you to pass them. Trucks will also pull alongside the shoulder to give you room to pass ...so that even in stretches of road which, in Canada, would not be recommended for passing...you can do it in Mexico. Drivers make eye contact and hand signals to communicate with each other.
 
The signs posted along the highway advise drivers to not drive when tired or after drinking because "tu familia esta esperandote" (ie. your family is waiting for you) and because your life and the lives of others are precious (I cannot remember exactly the phrasing they used in Spanish, but that was the gist of it). In Southern Mexico, especially Chiapas, there are signs posted near the entrances to towns that say to slow down because it could be your child. So, the responsibility for driving with care lies with the driver, but there are constant reminders of the driversīobligations to their family and to the families of the other drivers and pedestrians.
 
In this way, it seems to me that there is a sort of a driving community based on trust and on knowing your limits and needs and communicating them clearly to others. This is as opposed to driving according to enforceable rules. ī"Iīd better not speed because I might get a ticket" is replaced with "I need to drive carefully, itīs my obligation to the community". and "I cannot believe that s/he turned when it was MY right of way" doesnīt even exist because the other driver communicated her intention to you to turn and you either gave the driver permission by communicating with your eyes or your hand gestures, or you didnīt. And if you didnīt, ie. by not making eye contact, or by ignoring the other driver or not giving s/he space...the other driver didnīt turn!
 
THIS IS RADICAL STUFF. Why?  Because weīve told ourselves that society must run like traffic...according to rules that all know and obey, and which are enforced with punitive consequences by authority figures. In Mexico, the society seems to run smoothly...not because all are following rules or being punished, but by constant communication and negotiation.
 
What if we changed our metaphor for the smooth running of society away from our model of driving to the Mexican model of driving? How would that change how we see eachother and how much surveillance we require to maintain a stable social structure?
 
SECOND SECTION (WRITTEN FROM THE DRIVE WHICH WAS NOT THE CUOTA ROADS!!)
 
This is ahellish drive...neglected by all my books and internet research. Switchback curves with nowhere to go but down steep ravines hundreds of feet down or no shoulder with only steep rock face to drive into in the event that an oncoming car comes into your lane while they are trying to pass! These mountains stretch majestically as far as the eye can see...but right now I am unable to enjoy the views and vistas. I feel trapped in an endless rollercoaster ride that I cannot go back from ...only forward through endless high mountains and high mountain passes.
 
Somehow as I reread what I wrote, I cannot seem to be communicating how scary this drive was. I know one thing for sure,  I am staying on cuota roads in Mexico and Iīll change my route if necessary.
 
Okay, Iīve got to go. Iīll try to post more and bring it all up to date by tomorrow or Sunday.
 
The highlights are...
Monte Alban in Oaxaca
The Zocalo gentleman in Oaxaca
The horrible discovery in my bag
Walmart at Tapachula
The stressful crossing of the Guatemala border
El Salvador
 
Thanks for your patience! Love Tamara
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Jan 6

From San Carlos-Guaymas to Ciudad Obregon: the next stage of our journey
 
Sadly, Jerson Hartmut had his digital camera on his lap and when we stopped the car at San Carlos, it fell into the dust when he got out of the car. It hasnīt worked since.
 
On the road from Guaymas to Ciudad Obregon, we stopped at a roadside stand for tacos de carne asada and tacos de birria. Tacos de carne asada tacos with beef steak which is cut very thinly and then grilled over hot coals, then the meat is taken off the grill and put on a cutting board (which is a log cut cross-ways so that it is circular) and chopped very finely. Tacos birria are from meat which is simmered in its own juices for a long time so that it is tender and flavourful. At this roadside stand, chickens and roosters strolled along and between the tables, to the delight of our children.j
 
I was shocked to see that Ciudad Obregon has a Walmart-Samīs Club and I hope that the big box illness which our cities have doesnīt come to infect these vibrant towns with strong and healthy cores.
 
Everywhere along the road from Hermosillo to Ciudad Obregon are roadside graves and places of worship. The altars to the Virgin are most beautiful and well tended. They look like tiny little buildings with fences or chicken wire in the front. Inside are candles which are most often lit, flowers and pictures of the Virgin of Guadalupe. These altars are often alongside land which has no people visible anywhere. The graves are constant reminders of our mortality and the altars for a spiritual and powerful spirit. On one hand, I want to stop the car and take pictures, because they are so beautiful, but then, I feel like that would make me an observer-consumer of culture--rather than a participant in it.So, instead, I say a small prayer or go to a quiet space within when I see these altars.
 
There are also altars to the Virgin of Guadalupe painted beautifully on the sides of mountains.There are often steps leading up to these larger alters. It is so beautiful and touching...I cannot describe them, youīd have to feel them for yourself.
 
At Navojoa, there is a huge closed down bus terminal, leafy trees and lots of clean looking hotels. Along this route are lots of abandoned buildings-houses. I wonder why this is? It makes me feel a little philosophical about getting into a huge mortgage for land-buildings when they can become so abandoned! Did the children immigrate to the US or further north, searching for more "opportunity"? Did the culture of the road change, and there is no longer any time to stop at roadside stands, so the small, vibrant businesses died? The built landscape has a story to tell, but I donīt have time to stop and interpret it on this trip...
 
The road from Ciudad Obregon to Mazatlan:
 
As soon as we entered the state of Sinaloa from the state of Sonora, the landscape changes immediately from uncultivated, dry desert to lush cultivated green! As we progress southward, the land opens up into a huge fertile plain and the palate changes from light absorbing surfaces, duskier greens to shiny green leaves glinting in the light,  and tender verdant plants sprouting out of rich, black soil.
 
The mountain ranges are far in the distance to the south-southwest, but in the west, there is nothing but cultivated fields as far as the eye can see. We also saw nopales and agave.
 
Mazatlan:
 
Weīd planned to stop at Mazatlan as a special treat for me (Tamara) because it was here in Mazatlan that my love for Mexico began on a family vacation when I was seven years old. I donīt know if Mazatlanīs zona dorada had changed significantly since I was seven, or if it was because my father took me into the zona central where the tourists seldom enter, but the experience was not what I remember! As soon as we stopped to give our dogs water, a little car buzzed up and stopped beside us. Extremely friendly fellow jumped out, saying that he was an ambassador for tourists and offering us free tickets to go to the aquarium. We knew that we wouldnīt have time for the aquarium.
 
Then he offered us free accomodation for the night. Being suspicious of free things, we said that we wanted to pay for our accomodation...he jumped on his phone and began to make arrangements for one nights stay at his īhotelīī. Then he said that heīd arranged everything. We were relieved that weīd made our nightīs stay arrangement with his full knowledge of the dogs and we were ready to treat ourselves so we were willing to pay the $1500 pesos for a hotel on the beach to just relax and watch the sunset and swim in the ocean before we left early the next morning.
 
He told us to follow him to the place. It was not on the beach...so, then I didnīt want to pay that much...we thanked him for his help. He suggested that we try another place across from them that was on the beach. We went there, it was a run down time share where they were willing to have us take a room which was quite dilapidated for 400.00 pesos, but it only had one bed. We were worried that 5 of us couldnīt possibly manage to sleep comfortably there, so we continued. The rest of the story is tiresome. It continues in the 1000-1500 peso range, long discussions about "no mascotas".
 
We finally gave in and were willing to take the initial room that the fellow had offered us, knowing that we had dogs. I went in to the front desk and gave his name as a reference for the room. They didnīt know who he was and assured us that we couldnīt have a room because we had dogs!! It turns out that he sells time-shares and doesnīt really work for the hotel section of the time share-hotel resort so we were out of luck again. Hot, tired and frustrated from all this time being wasted when this was supposed to be our special treat day, I suggested that we enjoy a few hours at the beach and then we go and drive outside the zona dorada to the outskirts of town to find a hotel room. This we did, we managed to find a room at a hotel called the "Oasis" which was priced at 300.00 pesos and looked fresher and cleaner than any room weīd seen in the zona dorada.
 
By the way, zona dorada is the crescent along the ocean in Mazatlan where the hotels and now time-share "opportunities" cluster, along with high prices. I feel sorry for anyone who goes to Mexico and thinks that they had a cultural experience if they never leave this zone! Incidentally, by this time, we were running out of clean clothes and so Iīd inquired at a lavanderia (ie. laundromat) for the prices of a load of wash/dry so that we could once again feel fresh. It was 600 pesos for a wash and 600 pesos for a dry! Thats $6.00 US for a wash and $6.00 US for a dry!!! Compare that with Canadaīs average of $1.25 to $1.50!!!
 
Mazatlan to Tepic:
 
Industrial Mazatlan gives way to mango groves interplanted with maiz. The whole drive is agriculturally scenic. Tepic is not at all a tourist town. It is a self-sustaining, clean vibrant city. Just outside of Tepic, we were stuck in about 40 minutes of traffic due to a horrific accident involving a SUV. It was a single vehicle accident  where a SUV had flipped over the median and landed directly on itīs roof. There were several police cars, two fire trucks, and a hearse. I doubt that there were any survivors. From the vehicleīs Oregon licence plates, I assume it was a family returning from their vacation time in Mexico. We said prayers for the family and carried on. It was very sobering. And it hit a little too close to home, for us.
 
Weīve decided to drive more slowly from now on and we are striving to not feel too pushed to make our destinations and our time schedules. Because the roads are not really patrolled for speeding, you can literally go fast enough to kill yourself. The stretch of road where this occurred was pure smooth black top and very straight. It happened in broad daylight.
 
Now, we are really trying to focus on living in the moment and enjoying each moment that we are blessed with. We are realizing that life is precious and tenuous and we never know when it may be taken from us.
 
If it is true, as we imagine, that the driver of that car was feeling time pressure to get back to work commitments in the Oregon--and so he was trying to "make time" (and we ourselves had done the same things)...well, how important are all those things now? Every moment that we are given the gift of life is so valuable. This accident has impacted all of us and made us more appreciative of every moment of life that we have.
 
Love,
 
Tamara and Jerson and the kids
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Jan 5 #1

For those of you who are thinking of travelling through mexico, this is a section devoted to the things that we have learned...
 
It is not really worth it to bring a lot of books because you get car sick when you read on these roads which make the truck bump and sway. This is a hard lesson for us because we are bookworms and we packed a huge suitcase and half for all the reading we were planning on doing!
 
If you are in a small truck with kids and dogs, donīt pack like you are in a leisurely, spacious motorhome! We packed lots of games for the kids, but there really isnīt space for them to play games! Better to just pack some drawing pencils and some paper!
 
Gas Stations...yes, you should always ensure that the pump is at zero before the attendant starts pumping to ensure that you are not overcharged, but you also have to ensure that the attendant doesnīt charge you the price of the amount of litres, rather than the amount owing! We were charged 28.00 (280 pesos) at one gas station instead of 14.00 (140 pesos) because the attendant was charging us for the number of litres! Jerson Hartmut figured it out, not us. He asked me a "childīs question" about exchange rates which turned out to be a sophisticated understanding of the scam! By the way, this particular attendant was particularly solicitous of us, ensuring that we noticed that the gas pump was at zero before he commenced pumping.
 
This only happened once in the several visits that weīve had to gas stations, so donīt get the idea that everybody down here is a scam artist. My impression is that the vast majority of the people here are hard working, honest people. Nevertheless, you need to be aware, because sometimes there is the odd person who isnīt!
 
Food...while the family stood by hungry, I was forced to throw out several meals that looked delicious and cost plenty (we spend anywhere between 25.00 to 40.00 per meal to feed the family when we go out to a taqueria) because at the end I see the food handler take my money and give me change! That means that all the germs from all the cash transactions have gone into the food. So here are a few guidelines that we have since learned...
 
1. only buy from vendor whose food is steaming hot, or sizzling hot
2. buy only one small item from the food stand and watch how they handle the money. If they have a designated person handling money and another person designated to handle the food. Also note if the food you have received is hot--remember food that is tepid is at the perfect temperature to breed bacteria! If all goes well, and the taste is good (because it isnīt always delicious just because it is from down here!) then go ahead and buy for the whole family...
3. if you can, buy tortillas hot from a tortilleria and then go and buy a roasted chicken (also hot) (followng the above rules for both) and then feast upon this--so far it is the most cost efficient way by far.
 
Germs--bring that antigerm alcohol gel with you and use it constantly.
 
Water--it goes without saying, bottled only.
 
Softdrinks--only those that are in bottles, because cans could have been sitting anywhere and picking up germs, mouse feces...whatever before you get it!
 
So far, following these rules, we have all stayed healthy!
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Jan 5 #2

there is a bit of catching up to do! We crossed the border into Nogales, Mexico from Nogales, Arizona. The change in country was immediate. Within the space of a few meters, we went from a North American geography --organized grid streets, traffic lights where youīd expect them--big box stores and Chevon gas stations to raised sidewalks, traffic lights hanging at odd angles and heights, lots of people on the street and beautifully painted buildings with a vibrancy of small business activity which Iīve only experienced here in Mexico. And the dogs...they run around in small packs freely--it is an odd sight for those of us accustomed to having our dogs on a short leash and under supervision at all times! We did also see huge warehouses which I could identify as maquiladoras (assembly line manufacturing plants which are set up all along the border of Mexico-<US to take advantage of the low labour costs).
 
Just past the border crossing, about a 15 minute drive, is another centre where you are supposed to stop and get your tourist visas, mexican car insurance, photocopies etc. From Nogales, we drove to Hermosillo. Not much traffic on the road, we felt a little uncomfortable with this at first, but after we didnīt encounter any problems we just enjoyed driving and made good speeds. There is a small mountain range between Nogales and Hermosillo and being obsessed with the similarity to the Okanagan, I can tell you that the geography of this area is what I imagine the Okanagan would look like without the irrigation! Except, the Okanagan is more of a golden toned scrub...the mountains in this area are more rocky with little green bushes.
 
We passed through an area with "conventional" cactus (ie. the kind you see in cartoons) and entered the place of the people who do the dance of the deer. Have you ever seen the dance of the deer? I remember seeing a performance of it from a travelling dance troupe at UVIC and I was so impressed by it--the dancer acts exactly like a deer! We never saw the dance performed here, but this is the land of the indigenous peoples who created the dance. I thought at the time that I saw it that it was about how the hunter could hunt the deer, but the guidebooks say that it is about the triumph of good over evil--an explanation which I find a little suspect...this is probably quite a simplified version of the real underlying complexity and levels of symbolism.
 
One of the things which we found particularly significant is the number of tended grave sites along the highways. We donīt know if these are like the little altars which you can sometimes see in Canada where someone is remembering a loved one who died in a car accident, or if it is actually a grave. If it is from car accidents, there are a lot of them. One explanation which it might be is that the land along the highway and in the median is public land and so one can bury oneīs loved ones without fee even if they donīt own land. I have to ask someone about this, but itīs kind of a sensitive topic to ask about when you donīt know someone very well!
 
We were concerned about taking our dogs over the border. So far, there has been no interest in the dogs or their multiple vaccinations which we got for them prior to our arrival.However...this is not a culture where people treat their pets as family members! Consequently, it has become very difficult for us to find overnight accomodation with our dogs--especially Guapo, our English Mastiff who trundles out of the truck looking more like a lion from a circus, than a dog!
 
From Hermosillo, we drove to Guaymas-San Carlos. Guaymas was a major port for Mexico and there was  a very rich millionaire who made his money in mining and invested in a railway station. His wife wanted him to build a luxury hotel at Guaymas. It is built in a colonial style and has beautiful high ceilings, big ballrooms and intricate wood work. Apparently, the railroad baron contracted one of his employees to design the hotel, and the employee-architect worked with U.S. architects to design this beautiful hotel in the style of Colonial Mexico (ie. Guadalajara). When they inaugerated the hotel, they didnīt even invite the Mexican architect who had designed it, but they did have mariachis imported from the state of Jalisco and the American High Society wife required that the mariachis wear Charro outfits (the fancy black suits with the embroidery up the legs etc.) Up until then, mariachis wore regular clothes--but ever since this event, the charro suit became associated with mariachis. And so, a new tradition was born. Today the hotel has a sort of withered elegance. The ballrooms are empty, but you walk past a long wall of yellowed newspaper clippings which document the heights to which the hotel had risen...movie stars from the 1930īs, a visit from then-President Carlos Salinas de Gortari, etc. Outside the hotel, there are a series of RV sites which seem incongruent with the elegance of the rest of the property. The RV sites gave me hope that they might accept a dog or two--but to no avail. This was where I was first to learn the dreaded words "NO MASCOTAS" (no pets). The friendly lady at the front desk sent me to a motel a ways down the street...but we were worried about the neighborhood and our security so we travelled to San Carlos.
 
It was in San Carlos that I learned how much I dislike areas that have been infected with too much tourism! San Carlos has several half-finished real estate projects which give it a sort of modern ghost town feeling in parts. Everywhere there were time share opportunities. And there were a lot of North American tourists. We managed to find a fresh, clean reasonably priced hotel on the main strip called "Motel Creston". The children swam in the outdoor pool, to the surprise of the locals because it was still so cold (but the kids were determined to swim after so many hours of sitting in the hot car!). San Carlos and Guaymas are both on the ocean and so we had a beautiful walk on the beach with the dogs.
 
We are progressing much more slowly than we would have liked. We have to be off the road by about 3 pm in order to avoid driving at night and it is very time consuming and frustrating to find a place which will accept dogs! Consequently, we have reduced driving times each day. Sometimes, we have to stop before we are tired because it is just a little to long to get to the next town by 3pm. And we are beginning to feel time pressure to progress through this very big country!
 
Love Tamara, Jerson, the kids and the dogs
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Jan 2


Did I ever tell any of you about how Jerson and I take eagle sightings to be a sort of indication that things are going well...or that we are on the right track?  I was feeling pretty good about all the eagle sightings that we were having on the trip! It must be a sign that we are doing the right thing.  It wasnīt until recently that i realized that my īguidance eaglesīī have been vultures for the past few days!!!
 
Anyway, as I mentioned, we are going slower than weīd planned. It is a lot to manage with ensuring the dogs are watered and īwalkedīī <read washroom breaks euphemism!)...iīm having trouble writing this to you all since Mexican keyboards are quite different! Finding places to eat which we think will not give us any stomach troubles is tricky business, too. We are being very careful, since stomach troubles can really wreck a trip!
 
Well, i do want to tell you about a wonderful spot in Arizona where there are petroglyphs. It was a small detour from the main road...but driving down the small two lane road with the bumps and dips made us feel like we were driving the REAL american road trip experience...on either side of us was scrub with those scrubby bushes which arenīt cactus, but which thrive in desert conditions...we used to have them in our īback yardīin the okanagan and we called them īgreasewoodī. Ányway, we drove for quite a while with very little signage...then, just as we were beginning to lose hope, there it was! It just looked like a parking lot and a small mountain of rocks piled on top of eachother. but it turned out to be one of the most beautiful, and peaceful feeling places i ever went to! I felt like just lying down among the rocks and curling up in their embrace...the symbols and markings were very very old. Tamar and i offered a prayer to the spirits of the ancestors who had been there before us and then we had to hurry off to not lose time! We do not drive after dark.
 
More next time!
 
with love from the Hernandez Family
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Dec 31


Things are going slower than we'd planned. We saw some wonderful rock formations outside of San Diego--like mountains upon mountains of rocks piled as high as mountains--remind me to research how that geological formation happened! We're all doing fine and enjoying the heat.

Love Tamara and Jerson

PS

We were unable to get the technology smarts together to get the photos to you yet! We'll try again later. In the meantime, use your imaginations!

Dec 21 to 30

Hi All!

 

Sorry it's taken so long to write! The trip from Vancouver to Everett was the first leg of the journey. Quite uneventful and very similar geography to Victoria area--only taking the I5 you don't see to much. It is a quick route, though. The next leg of the trip was to Oregon. Oregon is absolutely beautiful! So much space--lots of grazing animals and rugged mountain terrain. One of the striking aspects is the trees which in the winter have no leaves, but appear to be in bloom with little tiny silvery green blossoms. Absolutely gorgeous. The "blossoms" are actually lichens. The trees are so covered with lichens that the whole area becomes almost glowing with the beautiful silvery green. Contrasting with the shadows of the mountains, it's quite striking. I asked at Ashton, Oregon whether the lichens were bad for the trees, but no...it's part of the ecosystem! We had some intense snowfall in Ashton, Oregon and so we waited to miss the snow in the mountain passes.

 

Northern California goes on forever, especially when you are anxious to make a deadline to meet family!

 

Reminded me a lot of the Okanagan Valley where I grew up.

 

Los Angeles is beautiful! Coming from the Okanagan Valley, I felt right at home here. It is like a big Okanagan Valley in my mind, but Jerson didn't feel quite the same way...he began to miss Victoria while he was here. But he more than made up for it with the love from his beautiful family here in California. His brother and wife and their two beautiful little girls are here. They gave us such wonderful hospitality! Nothing like homemade tacos at 1:30 am after a long drive! We had some eating adventure, too. I'll have to send you some photos of "Don Lenchos" in South Central Los Angeles where we ate carne asada and pupusas with hot chocolate and an unnamed taco stand in some industrial area of North Hollywood where the fires and steam from the taco stand, with a huge line up of people attracted us like some mirage in a desert. Photos coming of this too!

 

We'll let you know the next adventure when we have it!

Love Tamara and Jerson and the kids

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