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Journal Dates
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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
TOP
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...
TOP
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
TOP
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
TOP
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!!!
TOP
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
TOP
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!
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
TOP
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
TOP
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
TOP
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!
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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