I climbed the rock.
This is what I saw
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
El Piedre - Guatape, Antioquia, Colombia
A took a walk and saw a rock
I climbed the rock.
This is what I saw
I climbed the rock.
This is what I saw
Monday, April 26, 2010
Guatape
Warning, I am writing this while I am on a bus. I have nothing else to do.
A couple of days ago I joined couchsurfer.org at the suggestion and request of a friend in El Valle, Cocles, Panama. If you have been paying attention, you know about Charles, if you have not, it is really of little consequence. Charles primarily wanted me to give him a good reference as couch surfing is a web of trust, built by references from highly credentialed people. To be highly credential many people must have vouched for you, either as a guest in your house or as a host. It was time to repay my hospitality by joining and vouching for Charles. There were over a 100 people in Medellin who would be happy to put up a guest for free for 1 to 7 days. They just like to meet interesting people.
I contacted a few all of them responded, the women suggested that I would have better success if I posted my picture. Although this is not a dating site I guess if my nose was pierced and I had satanic symbols etched into my forehead I could expect to receive fewer invites. I added more to my profile and posted a picture, which my facebook “friends” said looked like a mug shot and all of a sudden all three women replied again saying they would be happy to meet for drinks. The least attractive of these women was pleasant, one very cute one is young enough that she could be my daughter.
A profile that interested me was that of a 36 year old engineer who got sick of the rate race and was planning to open an eco resort in Panama. I dropped him a line and he didn’t decline, didn’t accept as I had not requested and told me that he was in Medellin for a couple of weeks before he was going to return to the US. I noticed that he was actually in a location that I had intended to visit, 2 hours east of Medellin on a large man made lake.
A guy just got on the bus, said a few words in Spanish and brought out a sheet metal cylinder perhaps 5” in diameter, a foot long dented like it had been shot thousands of times with a BB gun before being folded. It had a handle halfway up the side and he proceded to brush on it with 5 wires that stuck out of a handle and singing in spanish. The man next to me pulled out some money, whether to reward him or make him stop I don’t know. The man folded the money and put it in his shirt pocket, apparently this is a reward to the mobil busker.
The Columbians may not be rich but they are industrious. From selling gum, (2 chicklets in a box for 100 pesos) to a minute of cell phone use for 150-250 pesos they all seem to be at least making an attempt. The man just stopped and I rewarded him for stopping with a 1000 pesos the amount the man next to me gave him. We pulled to a stop, the “music man” exits; (total time on bus, maybe 10 minutes) and a man boards with a wide variety of food, mostly fried goods in home made cellophane bags. A few passengers buy some items and he hops off the bus before we have time to get through the toll booth.
Back to the main entry. What the hell, why not? I took a shower, packed my bags, went to the ATM, bought breakfast (scrambled eggs, toast and coffee was 9,500 pesos, way too much) returned, paid my bill, bid my hosts and fellow guests at the hostel goodbye and left. I had not met anybody there that would become a facebook friend or with whom I would exchange emails. They were friendly enough but we acquaintances, we never took any tours, organized or my style together so there was not much more binding than sympathizing for the drumming the Red Wings were getting or playing a little billiards.
My back pack is filled with my support electronics and camera while my clothes, 2 shirts, 3 pair of socks, 2 pairs of shorts, a towel, my toilet kit, my machete and a walking stick are in a rubberized boat bag. You never know when you might find yourself on a boat in a raging river. Hopefully I’ll be on the Amazon hunting giant anacondas in a few weeks, but I digress. I was hoping to get a proper back pack, like the fantastic one I have in storage back in Dallas. There were none to be had in Panama; I’ll have to go to a mall in Medellin and get one when I’m done with this little side trip.
The taxi ride to Metro was only a couple of kilometers and the weather was very pleasant. The bag is light but to large to carry in conventional style without dragging on the ground. Like some sort of a lazy ass I fetched a cab and took a ride to the metro, the fare was the minimum fare, 3,900 pesos ($2), for another 6,000 pesos I could have been dropped off at the bus terminal, but that seemed like cheating. I walked up the stairs to the station, paid my 1,350 pesos and without hesitation descended to the proper side of the terminal. I made a few notes on my I touch, moved some items from my fanny back to my back pack and the train came. I put on my back pack, grabbed my bag and a man came up to me and said some words in spanish. I didn’t bother to say anything I just gave him a quizzical look and he said “your bag is not zipped.” Thanking him I put it down and zipped it fully, it was only open an inch or two. Columbians, at least those in Medellin are exceptionally considerate people. They give up their seats to the elderly, a woman with a child in arms will be given a preferred standing location on the metro so she can hold a vertical pole while holding the babe with both arms. A cripple is assisted by an apparent stranger (albeit a metro cop) up a flight of stairs. A man drops a 100 peso coin, 5 cents and a child picks it up and hands it to the man. Daily life is a stream of small kind acts.
Yesterday I was walking down the street inspecting the strength of the garage doors. These doors were exceptionally strong, built from ¾” solid steel bars to 2” extremely thick walled tubular steel. How do I know? I was in the physical security business for years. I banged on the tubes, I pulled on them to see how much they would flex, I inspected the way they were fastened to the walls. All the while a man stood in front of a building watching me engage in this exceptionally suspicious activity. He finally came over and said something I’m sure translates into “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” but I have no comprehension. “Puerte muy “ then I flex my muscles not knowing the work for strong, “no necessito, muy tranquillo par que ?
The man took me over to the building he was standing in front of showed me his door, which was easily a 1,500 pound garage door, it was locked with rods at 6 different locations. He told me the door was 30 years old. “Ah necessito 1980, wars Escobar.” I was trying to indicate that when the worlds most dangerous and richest criminal Pablo Escobar was in Medellin, blowing things up, killing cops, judges, civilians by the tens of thousands things were probably a bit different. Then the man showed me the offices he rented out, the apartment, gave me his name, showed me where he lived and told me to come if I ever needed help on anything. That is the third time in three days something like this has happened to me here.
Back again to the story, where was I? Oh yeah, getting on the train. In front of me was yet another stunning beauty with perfect teeth, complexion that looked air brush, full firm breasts a narrow waist and hips that completed the rest of her form perfectly. The primary export of Medellin used to be cocaine, now it is beauty queens, models and stunning women who inhabit brothels and strip clubs in other Latin American countries. How can one not just stare, slack jawed?
“Proximo Hospital.” We are nearing the Hospital exit, mine is the one after that. I move closer to the door as people enter and leave in a very orderly, efficient but unrushed and polite manner. At the “Caribe” station I exited the train and walked over to the Bus Terminal.
There were 5 guys in white shirts standing in front of what appeared to be a ticket booth. This didn’t look too promising as based on the writing on their shirts they were all employees of some transport company. Nonplussed I walked to the window and tried to order a ticket to my destination, mispronounced it. A consecutive sequence of the correct dipthongs is not comprehensible without the correct syllabic stress. I wrote it down and the woman smiled and pointed behind her and said something in Spanish. I headed off in the direction she indicated and the man in line next me said “quince”. All right then, I’m off to terminal 15.
While waiting at the aforementioned terminal, I was second in line the man came up behind me and stated my destination as a single word interrogative sentence. This man was the master of communication, “I looked at him and said “Si, mi dumb ass gringo.” He laughed and indicated I should follow, and walked me over to a ticket booth I had previously passed that was plainly marked with my destination. I got to the window and tried to talk to the woman in the booth, but a sound like dozens of 50 foot metal locusts swarming drowned out all attempts. I showed her the name of my destination which was written in small letters on the bottom of a small piece of paper and looked at it, with a twinkle in her eye, looked back up at me and pointed to the 6” letters over my head on the window that separated us. “Si, uno.” She just smiled. None of the disgust that this may have evoked in Panama. “Dumbass of course you want to go to ??? that’s the only place we go.” She said “auto o bus” and pointed to a picture of each. I said “bus” she wrote me a receipt for 11,000 pesos and I gave here the equivalent of slightly less than 6 bucks for a 2 hour ride. Another smiling guy appeared out of nowhere grabbed my bag, looked at me, walked down the terminal a ways, took a right to where the buses were lined up, walked down the row, took a left, walked on the bus, put my bag on the seat, gave me a thumbs up and left not waiting for a tip.
Ok, I’m caught up with the day, I think I’ll watch the scenery for a while.
Time passes… This is written in the evening at about 8:00
After I arrived I entered the first hotel I saw, the bus stopped in front of it. I walked up a flight of stairs to see a lovely little hotel. I looked around for a bit and a woman came out. Private rooms with baths and TV were 30 mill (mill as in thousand like millimeter) . $30.000 is how they would write it here, the ‘.’ being the separator, so that is thirty thousand pesos or about $16 USD, no taxes. Are you getting this currency stuff?
The woman saw all of the Dollars in my wallet and wanted to buy some from me. After about a minute I got here to understand that I wanted to know at what rate she wanted to buy them. She offered a rate of 1,700 pesos to the dollar I told her I could get 1,870 to the dollar in Medellin, so no thanks. The room was small but very clean. The bed has 2 sheets and 3 thick blankets. How the hell cold does it get up here at night?
I grabbed my camera, donned my specs, Tilley and camera and headed out for parts unknown. I made it about 100 meters down a block and two men were holding a sheet metal cabinet with a countenances betraying consternation. I offered to assist and the man made a gesture that I understood to mean this had to be carried up a flight of stairs. “No problemo.” I grabbed the back and off we went. The gesture meant across town and up a hill. Oh well, the cabinet was light and the town is small. The only gringo in town, he just showed up and now he is a laborer, what the hell?
It was time for food so I walked around for 20 minutes, saw a cop’s motorcycle and ate there. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. The local cops know where to get high quality food and good prices. The place was crammed with eating spots, a small shelf lined a corridor with chairs lined up in front of it. Tables jammed every room. Obviously this place gets packed on the weekends, when the residents of Medellin invade the town. I ordered the tipico (“typical”) dish, once mill (Do you have that 11 thousand pesos, about 5.80 off the top of my pointed head.) I could plainly see into the kitchen. I like to eat at restaurants that don’t have to hide their operations, or the cutie making my lunch.
A couple of days ago I joined couchsurfer.org at the suggestion and request of a friend in El Valle, Cocles, Panama. If you have been paying attention, you know about Charles, if you have not, it is really of little consequence. Charles primarily wanted me to give him a good reference as couch surfing is a web of trust, built by references from highly credentialed people. To be highly credential many people must have vouched for you, either as a guest in your house or as a host. It was time to repay my hospitality by joining and vouching for Charles. There were over a 100 people in Medellin who would be happy to put up a guest for free for 1 to 7 days. They just like to meet interesting people.
I contacted a few all of them responded, the women suggested that I would have better success if I posted my picture. Although this is not a dating site I guess if my nose was pierced and I had satanic symbols etched into my forehead I could expect to receive fewer invites. I added more to my profile and posted a picture, which my facebook “friends” said looked like a mug shot and all of a sudden all three women replied again saying they would be happy to meet for drinks. The least attractive of these women was pleasant, one very cute one is young enough that she could be my daughter.
A profile that interested me was that of a 36 year old engineer who got sick of the rate race and was planning to open an eco resort in Panama. I dropped him a line and he didn’t decline, didn’t accept as I had not requested and told me that he was in Medellin for a couple of weeks before he was going to return to the US. I noticed that he was actually in a location that I had intended to visit, 2 hours east of Medellin on a large man made lake.
A guy just got on the bus, said a few words in Spanish and brought out a sheet metal cylinder perhaps 5” in diameter, a foot long dented like it had been shot thousands of times with a BB gun before being folded. It had a handle halfway up the side and he proceded to brush on it with 5 wires that stuck out of a handle and singing in spanish. The man next to me pulled out some money, whether to reward him or make him stop I don’t know. The man folded the money and put it in his shirt pocket, apparently this is a reward to the mobil busker.
The Columbians may not be rich but they are industrious. From selling gum, (2 chicklets in a box for 100 pesos) to a minute of cell phone use for 150-250 pesos they all seem to be at least making an attempt. The man just stopped and I rewarded him for stopping with a 1000 pesos the amount the man next to me gave him. We pulled to a stop, the “music man” exits; (total time on bus, maybe 10 minutes) and a man boards with a wide variety of food, mostly fried goods in home made cellophane bags. A few passengers buy some items and he hops off the bus before we have time to get through the toll booth.
Back to the main entry. What the hell, why not? I took a shower, packed my bags, went to the ATM, bought breakfast (scrambled eggs, toast and coffee was 9,500 pesos, way too much) returned, paid my bill, bid my hosts and fellow guests at the hostel goodbye and left. I had not met anybody there that would become a facebook friend or with whom I would exchange emails. They were friendly enough but we acquaintances, we never took any tours, organized or my style together so there was not much more binding than sympathizing for the drumming the Red Wings were getting or playing a little billiards.
My back pack is filled with my support electronics and camera while my clothes, 2 shirts, 3 pair of socks, 2 pairs of shorts, a towel, my toilet kit, my machete and a walking stick are in a rubberized boat bag. You never know when you might find yourself on a boat in a raging river. Hopefully I’ll be on the Amazon hunting giant anacondas in a few weeks, but I digress. I was hoping to get a proper back pack, like the fantastic one I have in storage back in Dallas. There were none to be had in Panama; I’ll have to go to a mall in Medellin and get one when I’m done with this little side trip.
The taxi ride to Metro was only a couple of kilometers and the weather was very pleasant. The bag is light but to large to carry in conventional style without dragging on the ground. Like some sort of a lazy ass I fetched a cab and took a ride to the metro, the fare was the minimum fare, 3,900 pesos ($2), for another 6,000 pesos I could have been dropped off at the bus terminal, but that seemed like cheating. I walked up the stairs to the station, paid my 1,350 pesos and without hesitation descended to the proper side of the terminal. I made a few notes on my I touch, moved some items from my fanny back to my back pack and the train came. I put on my back pack, grabbed my bag and a man came up to me and said some words in spanish. I didn’t bother to say anything I just gave him a quizzical look and he said “your bag is not zipped.” Thanking him I put it down and zipped it fully, it was only open an inch or two. Columbians, at least those in Medellin are exceptionally considerate people. They give up their seats to the elderly, a woman with a child in arms will be given a preferred standing location on the metro so she can hold a vertical pole while holding the babe with both arms. A cripple is assisted by an apparent stranger (albeit a metro cop) up a flight of stairs. A man drops a 100 peso coin, 5 cents and a child picks it up and hands it to the man. Daily life is a stream of small kind acts.
Yesterday I was walking down the street inspecting the strength of the garage doors. These doors were exceptionally strong, built from ¾” solid steel bars to 2” extremely thick walled tubular steel. How do I know? I was in the physical security business for years. I banged on the tubes, I pulled on them to see how much they would flex, I inspected the way they were fastened to the walls. All the while a man stood in front of a building watching me engage in this exceptionally suspicious activity. He finally came over and said something I’m sure translates into “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” but I have no comprehension. “Puerte muy “ then I flex my muscles not knowing the work for strong, “no necessito, muy tranquillo par que ?
The man took me over to the building he was standing in front of showed me his door, which was easily a 1,500 pound garage door, it was locked with rods at 6 different locations. He told me the door was 30 years old. “Ah necessito 1980, wars Escobar.” I was trying to indicate that when the worlds most dangerous and richest criminal Pablo Escobar was in Medellin, blowing things up, killing cops, judges, civilians by the tens of thousands things were probably a bit different. Then the man showed me the offices he rented out, the apartment, gave me his name, showed me where he lived and told me to come if I ever needed help on anything. That is the third time in three days something like this has happened to me here.
Back again to the story, where was I? Oh yeah, getting on the train. In front of me was yet another stunning beauty with perfect teeth, complexion that looked air brush, full firm breasts a narrow waist and hips that completed the rest of her form perfectly. The primary export of Medellin used to be cocaine, now it is beauty queens, models and stunning women who inhabit brothels and strip clubs in other Latin American countries. How can one not just stare, slack jawed?
“Proximo Hospital.” We are nearing the Hospital exit, mine is the one after that. I move closer to the door as people enter and leave in a very orderly, efficient but unrushed and polite manner. At the “Caribe” station I exited the train and walked over to the Bus Terminal.
There were 5 guys in white shirts standing in front of what appeared to be a ticket booth. This didn’t look too promising as based on the writing on their shirts they were all employees of some transport company. Nonplussed I walked to the window and tried to order a ticket to my destination, mispronounced it. A consecutive sequence of the correct dipthongs is not comprehensible without the correct syllabic stress. I wrote it down and the woman smiled and pointed behind her and said something in Spanish. I headed off in the direction she indicated and the man in line next me said “quince”. All right then, I’m off to terminal 15.
While waiting at the aforementioned terminal, I was second in line the man came up behind me and stated my destination as a single word interrogative sentence. This man was the master of communication, “I looked at him and said “Si, mi dumb ass gringo.” He laughed and indicated I should follow, and walked me over to a ticket booth I had previously passed that was plainly marked with my destination. I got to the window and tried to talk to the woman in the booth, but a sound like dozens of 50 foot metal locusts swarming drowned out all attempts. I showed her the name of my destination which was written in small letters on the bottom of a small piece of paper and looked at it, with a twinkle in her eye, looked back up at me and pointed to the 6” letters over my head on the window that separated us. “Si, uno.” She just smiled. None of the disgust that this may have evoked in Panama. “Dumbass of course you want to go to ??? that’s the only place we go.” She said “auto o bus” and pointed to a picture of each. I said “bus” she wrote me a receipt for 11,000 pesos and I gave here the equivalent of slightly less than 6 bucks for a 2 hour ride. Another smiling guy appeared out of nowhere grabbed my bag, looked at me, walked down the terminal a ways, took a right to where the buses were lined up, walked down the row, took a left, walked on the bus, put my bag on the seat, gave me a thumbs up and left not waiting for a tip.
Ok, I’m caught up with the day, I think I’ll watch the scenery for a while.
Time passes… This is written in the evening at about 8:00
After I arrived I entered the first hotel I saw, the bus stopped in front of it. I walked up a flight of stairs to see a lovely little hotel. I looked around for a bit and a woman came out. Private rooms with baths and TV were 30 mill (mill as in thousand like millimeter) . $30.000 is how they would write it here, the ‘.’ being the separator, so that is thirty thousand pesos or about $16 USD, no taxes. Are you getting this currency stuff?
The woman saw all of the Dollars in my wallet and wanted to buy some from me. After about a minute I got here to understand that I wanted to know at what rate she wanted to buy them. She offered a rate of 1,700 pesos to the dollar I told her I could get 1,870 to the dollar in Medellin, so no thanks. The room was small but very clean. The bed has 2 sheets and 3 thick blankets. How the hell cold does it get up here at night?
I grabbed my camera, donned my specs, Tilley and camera and headed out for parts unknown. I made it about 100 meters down a block and two men were holding a sheet metal cabinet with a countenances betraying consternation. I offered to assist and the man made a gesture that I understood to mean this had to be carried up a flight of stairs. “No problemo.” I grabbed the back and off we went. The gesture meant across town and up a hill. Oh well, the cabinet was light and the town is small. The only gringo in town, he just showed up and now he is a laborer, what the hell?
It was time for food so I walked around for 20 minutes, saw a cop’s motorcycle and ate there. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. The local cops know where to get high quality food and good prices. The place was crammed with eating spots, a small shelf lined a corridor with chairs lined up in front of it. Tables jammed every room. Obviously this place gets packed on the weekends, when the residents of Medellin invade the town. I ordered the tipico (“typical”) dish, once mill (Do you have that 11 thousand pesos, about 5.80 off the top of my pointed head.) I could plainly see into the kitchen. I like to eat at restaurants that don’t have to hide their operations, or the cutie making my lunch.
Need new shoes
I left 3 pairs of good boots back in Dallas and I wore out the only pair I had brought back with me in January. The river sandals I had been carrying were exceptionally uncomfortable so I went off in pursuit of new footwear. As with most of my travels there was not much of a plan. I walked to the metro station and proceeded north until it looked like I was in a promising area then disembarked.
Map of Medellin.
Notes to self:
Stops
Map of Medellin.
Notes to self:
Stops
- I boarded at El Pablodo
- disembarked at Parque Barrio
- Spent an hour trying to get a pair of size 45 shoes, visited 14 shops, most selling cheap knockoffs
- embarked at San Antonio
- disembarked at
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Arvi
After inquiring about good places to do some hiking I was informed that I could go to Arvi and that the best way to get there was via the Medellin Metro. I grabbed a tourist map and walked down Calle 7 to Avenida al Poblado and consulted my map there. Yet another friendly local stopped her jogging to inquire if I needed any assistance and then directed me to Calle 10 to find the station. The station was very clean and quiet unlike the subways of New York for example. In Medellin the trains run above ground and the cables overhead. For 2,600 pesos I purchased a ticket. I slipped the small ticket into the slot in the front of the turnstile, the ticket was consumed, the light turned green and I walked through the turnstile. Signs everywhere were in Spanish and English. The cars were filled beyond seating capacity but not stuffed. In short order I got to my transfer station. The north bound portion of the trip was in a Gondola that seated about 6 people. We travelled up the side of the mountains, over the tops of the houses of the poorest parts of the city. More processions with people on stilts and carrying banners. When we got to the end of the line there was a short walk to an attached terminal that had cables that crested the mountain. An additional ticket was required, about 2,400 pesos I believe. The coordinator efficiently filled the gondolas. Groups of 4 were topped off with groups of 2 for instance. The ticket was a plastic card. After a half hour wait (this is a very popular destination on the weekends) I approached the turnstile. The attendant performed a proximity scan on my RFID card and took the card. Strange system indeed. Maybe they were recording queue times.
As the gondola approached to summit, the wind, unabated by the surrounding terrain picked up considerably. After crossing the peak the cable descending and ascended a small number of times and at the 23rd tower we arrived at the terminal exiting into the park for no additional charge. The park itself is small, less than 2 hectare (5 acres) with a large paved road winding through it. This was a bit of a disappointment but after following the road for a bit I found a trail that led off into the forest and spent an hour looking at a great deal of lichen in what appeared to be a deciduous forest.
The trail ended back on a two lane road that I walked for a bit and I took another trail that exited on what was evidently, once again the same road. Walking further there was a large boisterous party with people evidently having a great deal of fun, excitedly singing along with the band from time to time. I found an opening in the fence but it was guarded by a private guard bearing a break action single shot rusty shotgun. Despite having no great respect for the quality of his munitions I acceded to his insistence that this was a private affair. I walked a bit further down the road and then doubled back and exited on yet another trail, near a river. The trail followed the river and after a short time I encountered the party again, this time on the far side of the river. A couple of kilometers later I climbed a steep hill. I heard a voice behind me. I turned and there was a tall, slender young man at the base of the hill. I attempted to reply, but due to the distance there was no communication, just a brief period of shouting between us. At the top of the hill was a large gravel road that went both left and right with no indication as to the correct direction. I guess the correct direction would be based on your intended destination, I just wanted to return to the road from which I came, hopefully a bit closer to the cable station.
The young man came to the top and I asked him which way to go. His mastery was absolute. "We go this way, if we find no bus, we backtrack." I was done hiking but I liked his attitude. His English was better than my Spanish, by a long shot but he apologized for it anyway. "Mi habla solo Espanol su comprende nada." "I understood that." We hiked for a while and finally reached the end of the lake I haven't told you about and crossed the dam which was obviously hydroelectric. At the far side of the dam we were on forbidden territory passing the administration building we headed for the gates that were obviously locked. The chains could be seen from over 40 meters away. Two more private guards were with two women. They were folding up a tent. Don't ask me I'll never know.
They allowed us to pass and said something in Spanish which Juan said meant that I obviously was tired. A few kilometers down the road we passed a hotel and Juan asked me if I wanted to visit it. Now, why in the name of god, would I want to visit this hotel? "No, gracias." A minute later... "Cerveza su vende hotel?" "Possible" We backtracked a little bit. Yet another private guard with the substandard armament was visible. A bus pulled up and we attempted to scurry past the gate while he was checking out the bus but were intercepted. "Necessito comprare dos cervesa aqui." Yeah, I'm the master of Spanish. The guard looked at us and just gave us a nod. I don't know what I could have said that would have denied us entry. "Tenemos que ver a las chicas jóvenes que están lejos de su padre" would probably have worked, but I didn't google translate with me at the time.
We each had a quick beer. I found out that Juan was an attorney fighting for the rights of the workers and defending himself from entering into a pact with the devil by not over exerting himself. I explained how big law firms work in the US, turning idealist young men into soulless sources of income promising that if they could suck enough cash out of enough people by working 80 hours a week at 1/4 the rate they were being paid they could in turn abuse the next generation while taking the profits of their labor.
Invigorated we returned to the trail and found a large queue of buses ready to take the revellers back to the gondolas to begin the reverse trip to Medellin. The lines extended into the forbidden territory and I just didn't want to deal with it all, getting more and more frustrated. I bid him goodbye and started to walk back.
By now I was pretty tired and I stuck out my thumb as I walked but I don't think that hitch-hiking in Columbia is a fruitful exercise no matter how bedecked one is in Gringo attire. Full bus after full bus passed me as I marched on.
At one point a bus passed me and came to a stop and a head emerged from the rear door. I ran to the bus and saw that it was Juan who was standing at the rear door. He had evidently boarded the bus and caused it to stop and wait for me. I shook his hand warmly and he directed me to the front so that I could pay. The bus was silent during my walk up the aisle but after I gave my money some guy whispered something to the guy next to him about the gringo. I turned and said "Gringo apreciar bus alto" which probably translates into "shove a plate up your ass" but there was quite a bit of laughter and peopled started talking about Juan stopping the bus for the overheated gringo.
A bit further down the road a tall, slender attractive woman whose hair was an improbable shade of red boarded the bus bearing a bouquet of flowers and a bag and indicated that she wanted to sit next to me on the seat. I was on the front seat of the bus so I had to fold my feet underneath me to get them behind the rise that separated the passengers from the driver. She tucked her flowers on the far side of the partition that separated me from the driver. The partition bore an image of a Spanish Christ, (nobody down here seems to think he would have looked Jewish or Ethiopian) and I turned to her and said "No necessito flor pora mi" and pointed at her flowers. She gave me a bemused and confused look and turned her direction gaze straight forward. Two other men boarded right behind her and secured proximate positions to this lovely woman, blocking the traffic from others who wanted to board the bus.
The old man who sat on the hump and faced backwards quickly read that the woman wasn't with me and engaged her in a protracted conversation. Juan walked back up the aisle and apologized for me not understanding that there was a bus that would take me directly back to Medellin and took a seat behind me. I watched the beautiful scenery as we wound our way up and down the hills on the way back to Medellin. Finally my legs couldn't take being folded back any more. I asked the woman to extend her legs to the right of the partition and to the left of the man giving her the attention so I could have room to rotate and pull my legs out from under the seat. The man pointed to her legs and his shoulders. I stifled a laugh, she laughed out loud. I thought this old guy went from being a complete peckerhead to a pretty cool guy and she was very well humored. Juan and I exchanged email addresses once before boarding the bus and I had him enter his address on my itouch while we were on the bus. He told me to write him if there was any way he could help me. The people here are very friendly and helpful.
We got off the bus in the middle of the city. Juan wanted to make sure that I could make it to the metro to get home, but I told him I would just wander around for a while and then get a cab. An hour later I hailed a cab. This was like crosstown traffic in Manhattan with Panamanian taxi drivers. We went nowhere and horns blasted all the time. Maybe Medellin isn't Nirvana after all. I told the driver "This is crazy. Fuck this, I will walk." He looked back at me, I couldn't even get out of the cab unless I rolled down a window and crawled out of it. After a while he got to a cross street and got us out of it and we proceeded apace to less hectic sections of the city.
I got back and wrote a big blog entry on this while hanging out with the exceptionally attractive receptionist and the incredibly built cleaning woman while the residents all changed clothes into "I'm going to go out and get me some" attire. Then the whole draft went away.
So that's what you get, more than what you wanted anyway.
As the gondola approached to summit, the wind, unabated by the surrounding terrain picked up considerably. After crossing the peak the cable descending and ascended a small number of times and at the 23rd tower we arrived at the terminal exiting into the park for no additional charge. The park itself is small, less than 2 hectare (5 acres) with a large paved road winding through it. This was a bit of a disappointment but after following the road for a bit I found a trail that led off into the forest and spent an hour looking at a great deal of lichen in what appeared to be a deciduous forest.
The trail ended back on a two lane road that I walked for a bit and I took another trail that exited on what was evidently, once again the same road. Walking further there was a large boisterous party with people evidently having a great deal of fun, excitedly singing along with the band from time to time. I found an opening in the fence but it was guarded by a private guard bearing a break action single shot rusty shotgun. Despite having no great respect for the quality of his munitions I acceded to his insistence that this was a private affair. I walked a bit further down the road and then doubled back and exited on yet another trail, near a river. The trail followed the river and after a short time I encountered the party again, this time on the far side of the river. A couple of kilometers later I climbed a steep hill. I heard a voice behind me. I turned and there was a tall, slender young man at the base of the hill. I attempted to reply, but due to the distance there was no communication, just a brief period of shouting between us. At the top of the hill was a large gravel road that went both left and right with no indication as to the correct direction. I guess the correct direction would be based on your intended destination, I just wanted to return to the road from which I came, hopefully a bit closer to the cable station.
The young man came to the top and I asked him which way to go. His mastery was absolute. "We go this way, if we find no bus, we backtrack." I was done hiking but I liked his attitude. His English was better than my Spanish, by a long shot but he apologized for it anyway. "Mi habla solo Espanol su comprende nada." "I understood that." We hiked for a while and finally reached the end of the lake I haven't told you about and crossed the dam which was obviously hydroelectric. At the far side of the dam we were on forbidden territory passing the administration building we headed for the gates that were obviously locked. The chains could be seen from over 40 meters away. Two more private guards were with two women. They were folding up a tent. Don't ask me I'll never know.
They allowed us to pass and said something in Spanish which Juan said meant that I obviously was tired. A few kilometers down the road we passed a hotel and Juan asked me if I wanted to visit it. Now, why in the name of god, would I want to visit this hotel? "No, gracias." A minute later... "Cerveza su vende hotel?" "Possible" We backtracked a little bit. Yet another private guard with the substandard armament was visible. A bus pulled up and we attempted to scurry past the gate while he was checking out the bus but were intercepted. "Necessito comprare dos cervesa aqui." Yeah, I'm the master of Spanish. The guard looked at us and just gave us a nod. I don't know what I could have said that would have denied us entry. "Tenemos que ver a las chicas jóvenes que están lejos de su padre" would probably have worked, but I didn't google translate with me at the time.
We each had a quick beer. I found out that Juan was an attorney fighting for the rights of the workers and defending himself from entering into a pact with the devil by not over exerting himself. I explained how big law firms work in the US, turning idealist young men into soulless sources of income promising that if they could suck enough cash out of enough people by working 80 hours a week at 1/4 the rate they were being paid they could in turn abuse the next generation while taking the profits of their labor.
Invigorated we returned to the trail and found a large queue of buses ready to take the revellers back to the gondolas to begin the reverse trip to Medellin. The lines extended into the forbidden territory and I just didn't want to deal with it all, getting more and more frustrated. I bid him goodbye and started to walk back.
By now I was pretty tired and I stuck out my thumb as I walked but I don't think that hitch-hiking in Columbia is a fruitful exercise no matter how bedecked one is in Gringo attire. Full bus after full bus passed me as I marched on.
At one point a bus passed me and came to a stop and a head emerged from the rear door. I ran to the bus and saw that it was Juan who was standing at the rear door. He had evidently boarded the bus and caused it to stop and wait for me. I shook his hand warmly and he directed me to the front so that I could pay. The bus was silent during my walk up the aisle but after I gave my money some guy whispered something to the guy next to him about the gringo. I turned and said "Gringo apreciar bus alto" which probably translates into "shove a plate up your ass" but there was quite a bit of laughter and peopled started talking about Juan stopping the bus for the overheated gringo.
A bit further down the road a tall, slender attractive woman whose hair was an improbable shade of red boarded the bus bearing a bouquet of flowers and a bag and indicated that she wanted to sit next to me on the seat. I was on the front seat of the bus so I had to fold my feet underneath me to get them behind the rise that separated the passengers from the driver. She tucked her flowers on the far side of the partition that separated me from the driver. The partition bore an image of a Spanish Christ, (nobody down here seems to think he would have looked Jewish or Ethiopian) and I turned to her and said "No necessito flor pora mi" and pointed at her flowers. She gave me a bemused and confused look and turned her direction gaze straight forward. Two other men boarded right behind her and secured proximate positions to this lovely woman, blocking the traffic from others who wanted to board the bus.
The old man who sat on the hump and faced backwards quickly read that the woman wasn't with me and engaged her in a protracted conversation. Juan walked back up the aisle and apologized for me not understanding that there was a bus that would take me directly back to Medellin and took a seat behind me. I watched the beautiful scenery as we wound our way up and down the hills on the way back to Medellin. Finally my legs couldn't take being folded back any more. I asked the woman to extend her legs to the right of the partition and to the left of the man giving her the attention so I could have room to rotate and pull my legs out from under the seat. The man pointed to her legs and his shoulders. I stifled a laugh, she laughed out loud. I thought this old guy went from being a complete peckerhead to a pretty cool guy and she was very well humored. Juan and I exchanged email addresses once before boarding the bus and I had him enter his address on my itouch while we were on the bus. He told me to write him if there was any way he could help me. The people here are very friendly and helpful.
We got off the bus in the middle of the city. Juan wanted to make sure that I could make it to the metro to get home, but I told him I would just wander around for a while and then get a cab. An hour later I hailed a cab. This was like crosstown traffic in Manhattan with Panamanian taxi drivers. We went nowhere and horns blasted all the time. Maybe Medellin isn't Nirvana after all. I told the driver "This is crazy. Fuck this, I will walk." He looked back at me, I couldn't even get out of the cab unless I rolled down a window and crawled out of it. After a while he got to a cross street and got us out of it and we proceeded apace to less hectic sections of the city.
I got back and wrote a big blog entry on this while hanging out with the exceptionally attractive receptionist and the incredibly built cleaning woman while the residents all changed clothes into "I'm going to go out and get me some" attire. Then the whole draft went away.
So that's what you get, more than what you wanted anyway.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Medellin, Colombia
I was ready to move on, the heat in Cartagena was just stifling. Rodney was evaluating his options, he was considering going to Santa Maria, maybe. The bus to Medellin left at 11.
The walk to the bus stop was about 9 blocks. I was staggered by the huge number of buses queued and driving in the street, none clearly marked. I had read that taking a bus alone was a bit of an adventure. After the third bus passed me I just inquired to the guy who hangs out the door of the bus, "Terminal Cento?" "Si." I got on the bus. It was clearly marked as a 1300 peso ride. After almost about and hour of winding our way through various city streets I started to get a little apprehensive. I didn't know that Cartagena was so large and began to be concerned that we were actually not going to make it to a terminal.
When I arrived at the terminal I walked by a guy standing near the front gate who spoke a great deal of Spanish to me that I did not understand. I dismissed him with "No Comprende. Mi Espanol muy poco. Necissito bus Medellin." This evoked a great deal more Spanish and I thought that I was hearing that I was at the wrong terminal for intercity transport. God damn it. He gestured that I should follow him. We walked a couple of hundred meters and he looked at a bus that had no obvious markings and patted it on the side and said, "Medellin Directo ocho horas." I had no idea that there was a faster bus. He attempted to grab my bags and put them in the storage in the back of the bus, but I wasn't letting them out of my sight. He saw my apprehension and just carried them on the bus. Now I took up two seats, but there were plenty of empty seats, so what the hell. After I boarded he showed me 110000 on his cell phone. I gave him the requested number of pesos and he left the bus. He didn't scurry off, but nobody else was giving him any money. He brought on a guy wearing a company shirt and pointed at me. I asked "Necessito ticket" to which he replied "Tranquillo". What the hell? The bus company guy seemed to think that I was set, but was I really? I inquired with the driver, "Hasta Medellin Directo?" Si.
Then a company guy came on and starting charging people and giving them tickets. I didn't have enough pesos to buy a ticket if I just got ripped off, but I left on the bus, the only passenger without a ticket. We stopped frequently and people got on selling juices and all manner of foods, getting off shortly thereafter, presumably boarding a bus in the opposite direction in a travelling market. I had read about the hyper effective air conditioning on Colombian buses but there was no air on this bus. Every time we stopped it was stifling. After many hours we came to another bus stop and everybody got off. I inquired and was informed that I had to change buses, I thought. Direct my ass. The whole cycle repeated itself. After about 9 hours on the bus we got to another terminal I bought a couple of juices but after 9 hours on the bus I need to urinate and there was no bathroom available. I was told there was one one the bus. Another person took my bags and carried them to my seat, reclined my seat, lowered my foot rest gave me a thumbs up and walked off the bus, no pregnant pause waiting for a tip. After another hour we stopped at a restaurant, but by this time I was too tired and just wanted to rest in my seat. Finally Medellin was visible through the window, stretching far up the hill in a sea of lights. I saw no taxis and inquired; they were on the lower level. After descending the stair case there was a see of Chevy cars the size of Mini Coopers, all yellow at least 4 score and I was the only person at the taxistop. I showed the location of my destination to the taxi coordinator and inquired "Queno questo?" and received the response "Doce Mill", 12,000 pesos. I had a 10,000 note in my wallet. I got in the taxi, it had a meter, I had obviously left Panama. We whizzed down clean well maintained streets at 100 km/hr, the driver couldn't find the place with the map I handed him, but with three quick inquiries after getting off the highway we found ourselves at my intended destination. Everybody was very helpful.
Casa Kiwi only had a bed in the dorm and no lockers available. I walked to the ATM but it had a windows boot message that it could not locate "hal.dll". Shit out of luck. The town was hopping, beautiful women were everywhere. The town was in full swing but nobody was obnoxious or loud or rude. The weather was perfect but started to drizzle as I was writing this post and has already stopped. This is going to be good.
The walk to the bus stop was about 9 blocks. I was staggered by the huge number of buses queued and driving in the street, none clearly marked. I had read that taking a bus alone was a bit of an adventure. After the third bus passed me I just inquired to the guy who hangs out the door of the bus, "Terminal Cento?" "Si." I got on the bus. It was clearly marked as a 1300 peso ride. After almost about and hour of winding our way through various city streets I started to get a little apprehensive. I didn't know that Cartagena was so large and began to be concerned that we were actually not going to make it to a terminal.
When I arrived at the terminal I walked by a guy standing near the front gate who spoke a great deal of Spanish to me that I did not understand. I dismissed him with "No Comprende. Mi Espanol muy poco. Necissito bus Medellin." This evoked a great deal more Spanish and I thought that I was hearing that I was at the wrong terminal for intercity transport. God damn it. He gestured that I should follow him. We walked a couple of hundred meters and he looked at a bus that had no obvious markings and patted it on the side and said, "Medellin Directo ocho horas." I had no idea that there was a faster bus. He attempted to grab my bags and put them in the storage in the back of the bus, but I wasn't letting them out of my sight. He saw my apprehension and just carried them on the bus. Now I took up two seats, but there were plenty of empty seats, so what the hell. After I boarded he showed me 110000 on his cell phone. I gave him the requested number of pesos and he left the bus. He didn't scurry off, but nobody else was giving him any money. He brought on a guy wearing a company shirt and pointed at me. I asked "Necessito ticket" to which he replied "Tranquillo". What the hell? The bus company guy seemed to think that I was set, but was I really? I inquired with the driver, "Hasta Medellin Directo?" Si.
Then a company guy came on and starting charging people and giving them tickets. I didn't have enough pesos to buy a ticket if I just got ripped off, but I left on the bus, the only passenger without a ticket. We stopped frequently and people got on selling juices and all manner of foods, getting off shortly thereafter, presumably boarding a bus in the opposite direction in a travelling market. I had read about the hyper effective air conditioning on Colombian buses but there was no air on this bus. Every time we stopped it was stifling. After many hours we came to another bus stop and everybody got off. I inquired and was informed that I had to change buses, I thought. Direct my ass. The whole cycle repeated itself. After about 9 hours on the bus we got to another terminal I bought a couple of juices but after 9 hours on the bus I need to urinate and there was no bathroom available. I was told there was one one the bus. Another person took my bags and carried them to my seat, reclined my seat, lowered my foot rest gave me a thumbs up and walked off the bus, no pregnant pause waiting for a tip. After another hour we stopped at a restaurant, but by this time I was too tired and just wanted to rest in my seat. Finally Medellin was visible through the window, stretching far up the hill in a sea of lights. I saw no taxis and inquired; they were on the lower level. After descending the stair case there was a see of Chevy cars the size of Mini Coopers, all yellow at least 4 score and I was the only person at the taxistop. I showed the location of my destination to the taxi coordinator and inquired "Queno questo?" and received the response "Doce Mill", 12,000 pesos. I had a 10,000 note in my wallet. I got in the taxi, it had a meter, I had obviously left Panama. We whizzed down clean well maintained streets at 100 km/hr, the driver couldn't find the place with the map I handed him, but with three quick inquiries after getting off the highway we found ourselves at my intended destination. Everybody was very helpful.
Casa Kiwi only had a bed in the dorm and no lockers available. I walked to the ATM but it had a windows boot message that it could not locate "hal.dll". Shit out of luck. The town was hopping, beautiful women were everywhere. The town was in full swing but nobody was obnoxious or loud or rude. The weather was perfect but started to drizzle as I was writing this post and has already stopped. This is going to be good.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Inquisition
I visited a museum, the House of Inquisition, which sucked big time. All torture devices were reconstructions although the breast clamps looked like something out of a mammography warm-up.
Religion is great isn't it? Thank god this bullshit is all over and we are all englightened.
Oh, wait.Maybe not.
Religion is great isn't it? Thank god this bullshit is all over and we are all englightened.
Oh, wait.Maybe not.
What do I do?
What do you mean what do I do? I travel around. I go to visit friends in places I've never been, friends I've never met before. Then I move. Too much world to see.
Columbian Legal Advice
"As your attorney, I recommend you wipe the SD card on your camera, overwrite it several times. Overwrite all images on your hard drive. Deny everything always, today, tomorrow and forever. It never happened."
Hunter Thompson's three hundred pound Samoan from "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" gives me a visit, reincarnated as a Columbian.
Hunter Thompson's three hundred pound Samoan from "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" gives me a visit, reincarnated as a Columbian.
Trouble?
We kept running into the same two girls. One was kind of cute, with full breasts and tight hind quarters but a bit of a roll over the gut. The other was of an unpleasant countenance hair from a Steven King novel and smelled of cigarettes. Rodney had something for the cute one. I figured it was $20 and I had little use for the other. Around 11:00 last night a band played down the street. On my seventh sojourn I was waved over and informed that my friend was inside. Sure enough there was Rodney holding court. The undesirable girl kept putting her had under my clothing and trying to shove her ashtray flavored tongue into my mouth.
Rodney has a way with women. One night he had his iphone stolen from his pants while he was engaged in unknown activities. The next night, while availing himself of a $10 service in an alley in Panama he had $10 extracted from his shorts which were down around his ankles. He was sure that this girl had succumbed to his charms. I was sure she wanted $20. After many sets he had to settle his bar tab, but he had kept no accounting and had no idea what the cost of drinks were. Even with all the cash I had on me he had to go back to the room to get more. The bartender was willing to take USD at 1,600 pesos per, a really bad exchange rate. The girls wanted to come back to the room but I figured all of my possessions would be gone upon awakening and nixed that idea.
When it was time to part company the toad wanted $20 for cab fare. That would get her from here to another state. I told Rodney he had yet another personal problem to solve and went back to the hotel. I wonder if he is really going to see his true love at 11 when he recovers from his stupor.
I have some laundry to do.
Rodney has a way with women. One night he had his iphone stolen from his pants while he was engaged in unknown activities. The next night, while availing himself of a $10 service in an alley in Panama he had $10 extracted from his shorts which were down around his ankles. He was sure that this girl had succumbed to his charms. I was sure she wanted $20. After many sets he had to settle his bar tab, but he had kept no accounting and had no idea what the cost of drinks were. Even with all the cash I had on me he had to go back to the room to get more. The bartender was willing to take USD at 1,600 pesos per, a really bad exchange rate. The girls wanted to come back to the room but I figured all of my possessions would be gone upon awakening and nixed that idea.
When it was time to part company the toad wanted $20 for cab fare. That would get her from here to another state. I told Rodney he had yet another personal problem to solve and went back to the hotel. I wonder if he is really going to see his true love at 11 when he recovers from his stupor.
I have some laundry to do.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
This is my Amigo
"Americano, this is my Amigo."
"I'm sure she is."
"She like to fucky fucky."
"She's not 18".
Then the woman grabs my dick, "maybe she is".
35,000 pesos, that's what $20? No, that's 10 years in jail.
"I'm sure she is."
"She like to fucky fucky."
"She's not 18".
Then the woman grabs my dick, "maybe she is".
35,000 pesos, that's what $20? No, that's 10 years in jail.
Cartagena, Columbia
The wifi was down at the Jungle in Panama City yesterday. Thought we'd just wing it. I get held up leaving the airport as I had been in Panama 93 days. It took about 1/2 hour to pay the 60 dollar fine. The flight was uneventful. I exchanged 100 dollars for 175,000 pesos not a great deal, parity rate would be about 195,0000 but I had just cashed out $500 from the ATM in Panama in preparation for a little more anal probing at migration.
The taxi fair to Casco Viejo was $8 so I gave the driver a tenner and got 5,000 pesos back. This was a bit simpler in Panama. First hostel we went to was full, the called another, a woman came down the street to "pick us up" we walked the two blocks to stay at San Roque. 3 Bedroom airconiditioned dorm is 20,000 pesos. Good internet access. I'm off to take some photos. It is really frigging hot here.
The taxi fair to Casco Viejo was $8 so I gave the driver a tenner and got 5,000 pesos back. This was a bit simpler in Panama. First hostel we went to was full, the called another, a woman came down the street to "pick us up" we walked the two blocks to stay at San Roque. 3 Bedroom airconiditioned dorm is 20,000 pesos. Good internet access. I'm off to take some photos. It is really frigging hot here.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Next Stop - Cartagena
I was in Panama for about an hour and ran into Rodney.
Is every woman in Columbia stunningly beautiful? I am about to find out.
Flight leaves tomorrow. Wonder what my fine will be for staying here over 90 days.
Is there actually a cocaine plantation tour available in Cartagena?
I'm down to a small backpack. I need a new set of boots, maybe I'll buy them in Bogata.
Wish me luck.
Is every woman in Columbia stunningly beautiful? I am about to find out.
Flight leaves tomorrow. Wonder what my fine will be for staying here over 90 days.
Is there actually a cocaine plantation tour available in Cartagena?
I'm down to a small backpack. I need a new set of boots, maybe I'll buy them in Bogata.
Wish me luck.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
tag is not closed A
Why can't google maps play nicely with google's blog?
No that is not the end of the post body.
No that is not the end of the post body.
Santa Fe to Panama City my way
I was very disappointed in my real estate representative. He reneged on yet another commitment and then showed up at 11:00 for a 7:30 meeting. On my way in I ran into somebody else and discovered that he had been working on setting up a bar-b-q with somebody else. I had been discussing developing some land with him for three days and discussed the economics of smoking brisket and ham and he decided to do this with somebody else without discussing it with me. My 90 days are just about up so I thought I would just hit Columbia as I had advised him I would do a couple of weeks ago. The man has no sense of urgency or priority, I guess he has too many balls in the air. On the bus to Santiago I ran into a woman I met at the hostel last night and decided oh what the hell, why not see Santa Catalina before I blow out of here? Who knows when I'll be back. The ride to Santiago was eventless, with a very short layover. We missed our bus in Sona by minutes. I took advantage of the layover to run around town, sweat and take a few pictures. My travelling companion, Irma a Manhattan corporate tax attorney spent the time on skype in the internet cafe, checking up on her ill sister. They wouldn't let her install skype or use the wireless. I took out here laptop, disconnected the cat 5 cable, plugged into her lap top and said "Here you go. I'm from Detroit."
Irma got off the bus at some place she booked on line. She thought it was in Santa Catalina, in fact it is about 10 miles out. I took the bus to the terminal and walked around town before deciding where I was going to stay.
Irma got off the bus at some place she booked on line. She thought it was in Santa Catalina, in fact it is about 10 miles out. I took the bus to the terminal and walked around town before deciding where I was going to stay.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Getting around in Santa Fe
In town I would guess that 80% of the people walk, 18% ride horses and 2% drive cars to get around town. I would also venture to guess that 98% of the people use the bus as their primary means of transportation to Santiago. The village of Guabal is a $4.00 ride in a chiva (covered pickup truck and 75% of people get a ride while the balance walks the 19km to save money. I have a hard time believing that it is only 14km from Guabal to Rio Luis.
Flesh and Bones
I am made of flesh and bones. A horse reminded me of this yesterday.
Yesterday was the third day of surveying a 40 hectare land suitable, with some rehabilitation, for an organic farm. This morning I will be in discussions, not negotiations with a local prospective partner.
The quarter horse I was ride was pokey and reluctant to ascend or descend anything steep or rugged. As I was exerting more energy kicking this reluctant ride than I would hiking up and down the face of these hills I dismounted and lead the horse by the reins. After returning to the flat land at the base of the hill the owner of the horses suggested that I ride the grey gelding as it had more spirit. Several times Carlos took off at a reasonable pace and the grey quickly caught up.
On one occasion I lingered for a while, examining the topography, trying to figure out the best places to put in Tilapia ponds on the seasonal creeks. I moved the reins gently to the right, the reigns touched the left side of the horse's neck, I gave a little nudge with my feet to the ribs, no need to kick, just to let him know that the time for standing was done. He took off a rapid trot and then broke into a full gallop up the hill. Eight strides later we crested and started down, I passed Carlos; it was time to stop. I pulled up hard on the reins. Too hard I guess the horse skidded to a stop. My momentum was carrying me and I grabbed the horn which proceeded to take the saddle with me in the only way possible, by torquing the chest of this big boy. I had no desire to injure this horse and even less desire to roll down the hill with the horse on top of me so I threw my left leg back over the horse and down onto the scrub and sand, tucked and rolled. No contusions, but I bruised up a couple of ribs pretty well. I walked the rest of the day.
Yesterday was the third day of surveying a 40 hectare land suitable, with some rehabilitation, for an organic farm. This morning I will be in discussions, not negotiations with a local prospective partner.
The quarter horse I was ride was pokey and reluctant to ascend or descend anything steep or rugged. As I was exerting more energy kicking this reluctant ride than I would hiking up and down the face of these hills I dismounted and lead the horse by the reins. After returning to the flat land at the base of the hill the owner of the horses suggested that I ride the grey gelding as it had more spirit. Several times Carlos took off at a reasonable pace and the grey quickly caught up.
On one occasion I lingered for a while, examining the topography, trying to figure out the best places to put in Tilapia ponds on the seasonal creeks. I moved the reins gently to the right, the reigns touched the left side of the horse's neck, I gave a little nudge with my feet to the ribs, no need to kick, just to let him know that the time for standing was done. He took off a rapid trot and then broke into a full gallop up the hill. Eight strides later we crested and started down, I passed Carlos; it was time to stop. I pulled up hard on the reins. Too hard I guess the horse skidded to a stop. My momentum was carrying me and I grabbed the horn which proceeded to take the saddle with me in the only way possible, by torquing the chest of this big boy. I had no desire to injure this horse and even less desire to roll down the hill with the horse on top of me so I threw my left leg back over the horse and down onto the scrub and sand, tucked and rolled. No contusions, but I bruised up a couple of ribs pretty well. I walked the rest of the day.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Finca
I am just about to make my third trip in surveying a 40 hectare finca that I might turn into an organic farm. We will be conducting this one as the other two on horseback. Here is something for you to read while I am out.
My wife and I are watching “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire” while we were in bed.. I turned to her and said,
“Do you want to have sex?”
“No,” she answered. I then said, “Is that your final answer?” She didn’t even look at me this time, simply saying, ”Yes.” So I said, “Then I’d like to phone a friend.”
And then the fight started….
My wife suggested for my birthday I have a threesome.
I replied "Do I get to pick both girls?"
And then the fight started...
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.
My wife asked, "Do you know her?"
"Yes," I sighed, "She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since."
"My God!" says my wife, "who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"
And then the fight started…
My wife was standing in front of the mirror one day and said, "I look old, fat and ugly; I feel horrible. I need you to pay me a compliment."
So I said, "Your eyesight's damn near perfect."
And then the fight started...
My wife caught me cheating on her with our best friend.
But then she said it's OK because it was only physical, and she was right. So we went to watch Rocky III on DVD.
And then the fight started...
My wife said, "I'm not happy with my breasts. I want larger ones. Maybe I should get surgery".
I said, "You don't need to spend all that money. You can make them larger just by rubbing them with bathroom tissue".
"Bathroom tissue?!? What makes you think that would work??"
"Well, it's been working on your ass for years".
And then the fight started...
I was talking to this guy the other day and he said, "do you ever mean to say one thing, but it comes out all messed up? For instance, I was at the train station, when a very busty ticket agent came to the window. I meant to say, 'I'd like two tickets to Pittsburgh," but it came out as "I'd like two pickets to titsburgh."
And I said, "Well, yes, funny you should mention that. Just this morning, I was having breakfast with my wife.
I meant to say, 'Please pass the butter,' but it came out as, 'I hate you bitch, you ruined my entire life.'"
nationalmaverick 46 points 9 hours ago[-]
This is a joke from Frasier. "Niles: A funny thing happened the other day. One of my patients had a rather amusing
Freudian slip. He was having dinner with his wife and he meant to say "Pass the salt," but instead he said
"You've ruined my life, you blood-sucking shrew."
A man comes home from work and sits in his favorite chair. He asks his wife if she could "get me a beer before it starts"
and she complies. When he finishes his beer he asks his wife if she could get him another one before it starts. She seems confused but brings her husband a beer anyway.
The third time he asked, she was fed up. She said "before what starts? some stupid hockey game that you're
going to sit and watch for how many hours? You think because you worked today you're the only one
who has it tough and you get to just sit around when you get home? I'll have you know I had a HELL of a day,
and maybe I would like to just sit down and drink some beers and watch something but NO I'm in the kitchen
cooking supper and getting you beer! So what is so god damn important that I need to get you beer before it starts?!?!?"
The husband replies "and it starts..."
My wife and I were having sex and it just didn't seem to be working so good for either of us so I asked her
''What's the matter honey can't you think of anybody else either?'' And then the fight started.
A man comes home from work a says "honey pack your bags I just won the lottery"
she say "great should I pack for warm or cold weather?" the man responds " I don't care as long as your out by 8:00"
Marriage is like a three ring circus. First you have the engagement ring. Then you get the wedding ring.
And lastly you have the suffering.
I thought this was a Groucho Marx quote but can't find verification on the internets.
One year, a husband decided to buy his mother-in-law a cemetery plot as a Christmas gift.
The next year, he didn’t buy her a gift.
When she asked him why, he replied, “Well, you still haven’t used the gift I bought you last year!”
And that’s how the fight started…..
My wife walked into the den & asked “Whats on the tv?”
I replied “Dust”.
And that’s how the fight started…..
A woman is standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.
She is not happy with what she sees and says to her husband, ‘I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment.’
The husband replies, ‘Your eyesight’s damn near perfect.’
And that’s how the fight started…..
My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary. She said,
‘I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 200 in about 3 seconds.
I bought her a scale.
And that’s how the fight started…..
I asked my wife, ‘Where do you want to go for our anniversary?’
It warmed my heart to see her face melt in sweet appreciation.
‘Somewhere I haven’t been in a long time!’ she said.
So I suggested, ‘How about the kitchen?’
And that’s when the fight started….
I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95.
Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95. I told her the beer would make her look better at
night than the cold cream.
And that’s when the fight started…..
I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.
’I'll have the strip steak, medium rare, please.’
He said, ‘Aren’t you worried about the mad cow?’
’Nah, she can order for herself.’
And that’s when the fight started…..
I got fired from my job and had to explain to the wife that
'I got caught with my dick in the restaurant pickle slicer.'
'With your dick in the restaurant pickle slicer?' she asked astonished.
'Yes' I replied, 'She got fired too!"
And that’s when the fight started…..
Well...my mom always said there's 3 kinds of married sex.
First , there's kitchen table sex when you're first married and you have sex everywhere including the kitchen table.
Second, there's bedroom sex when you now have kids so you have to have it in the bedroom.
Third, there's hallway sex where the kids are grown so you pass each other
in the hallway and say to each other, "Fuck You".
My wife and I are watching “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire” while we were in bed.. I turned to her and said,
“Do you want to have sex?”
“No,” she answered. I then said, “Is that your final answer?” She didn’t even look at me this time, simply saying, ”Yes.” So I said, “Then I’d like to phone a friend.”
And then the fight started….
My wife suggested for my birthday I have a threesome.
I replied "Do I get to pick both girls?"
And then the fight started...
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.
My wife asked, "Do you know her?"
"Yes," I sighed, "She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since."
"My God!" says my wife, "who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"
And then the fight started…
My wife was standing in front of the mirror one day and said, "I look old, fat and ugly; I feel horrible. I need you to pay me a compliment."
So I said, "Your eyesight's damn near perfect."
And then the fight started...
My wife caught me cheating on her with our best friend.
But then she said it's OK because it was only physical, and she was right. So we went to watch Rocky III on DVD.
And then the fight started...
My wife said, "I'm not happy with my breasts. I want larger ones. Maybe I should get surgery".
I said, "You don't need to spend all that money. You can make them larger just by rubbing them with bathroom tissue".
"Bathroom tissue?!? What makes you think that would work??"
"Well, it's been working on your ass for years".
And then the fight started...
I was talking to this guy the other day and he said, "do you ever mean to say one thing, but it comes out all messed up? For instance, I was at the train station, when a very busty ticket agent came to the window. I meant to say, 'I'd like two tickets to Pittsburgh," but it came out as "I'd like two pickets to titsburgh."
And I said, "Well, yes, funny you should mention that. Just this morning, I was having breakfast with my wife.
I meant to say, 'Please pass the butter,' but it came out as, 'I hate you bitch, you ruined my entire life.'"
nationalmaverick 46 points 9 hours ago[-]
This is a joke from Frasier. "Niles: A funny thing happened the other day. One of my patients had a rather amusing
Freudian slip. He was having dinner with his wife and he meant to say "Pass the salt," but instead he said
"You've ruined my life, you blood-sucking shrew."
A man comes home from work and sits in his favorite chair. He asks his wife if she could "get me a beer before it starts"
and she complies. When he finishes his beer he asks his wife if she could get him another one before it starts. She seems confused but brings her husband a beer anyway.
The third time he asked, she was fed up. She said "before what starts? some stupid hockey game that you're
going to sit and watch for how many hours? You think because you worked today you're the only one
who has it tough and you get to just sit around when you get home? I'll have you know I had a HELL of a day,
and maybe I would like to just sit down and drink some beers and watch something but NO I'm in the kitchen
cooking supper and getting you beer! So what is so god damn important that I need to get you beer before it starts?!?!?"
The husband replies "and it starts..."
My wife and I were having sex and it just didn't seem to be working so good for either of us so I asked her
''What's the matter honey can't you think of anybody else either?'' And then the fight started.
A man comes home from work a says "honey pack your bags I just won the lottery"
she say "great should I pack for warm or cold weather?" the man responds " I don't care as long as your out by 8:00"
Marriage is like a three ring circus. First you have the engagement ring. Then you get the wedding ring.
And lastly you have the suffering.
I thought this was a Groucho Marx quote but can't find verification on the internets.
One year, a husband decided to buy his mother-in-law a cemetery plot as a Christmas gift.
The next year, he didn’t buy her a gift.
When she asked him why, he replied, “Well, you still haven’t used the gift I bought you last year!”
And that’s how the fight started…..
My wife walked into the den & asked “Whats on the tv?”
I replied “Dust”.
And that’s how the fight started…..
A woman is standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.
She is not happy with what she sees and says to her husband, ‘I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment.’
The husband replies, ‘Your eyesight’s damn near perfect.’
And that’s how the fight started…..
My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary. She said,
‘I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 200 in about 3 seconds.
I bought her a scale.
And that’s how the fight started…..
I asked my wife, ‘Where do you want to go for our anniversary?’
It warmed my heart to see her face melt in sweet appreciation.
‘Somewhere I haven’t been in a long time!’ she said.
So I suggested, ‘How about the kitchen?’
And that’s when the fight started….
I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95.
Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95. I told her the beer would make her look better at
night than the cold cream.
And that’s when the fight started…..
I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.
’I'll have the strip steak, medium rare, please.’
He said, ‘Aren’t you worried about the mad cow?’
’Nah, she can order for herself.’
And that’s when the fight started…..
I got fired from my job and had to explain to the wife that
'I got caught with my dick in the restaurant pickle slicer.'
'With your dick in the restaurant pickle slicer?' she asked astonished.
'Yes' I replied, 'She got fired too!"
And that’s when the fight started…..
Well...my mom always said there's 3 kinds of married sex.
First , there's kitchen table sex when you're first married and you have sex everywhere including the kitchen table.
Second, there's bedroom sex when you now have kids so you have to have it in the bedroom.
Third, there's hallway sex where the kids are grown so you pass each other
in the hallway and say to each other, "Fuck You".
Friday, April 2, 2010
Life in the Jungle
I just returned from a week in deep jungle where I was living with the natives in Rio Luis followed by 3 days at the coast in a town where everyone is living well with no visible means of support. Based on the location you can guess that there are some fast boats moving cargo surreptiously. A huge blog entry is coming up. I will be preparing it offline today and tomorrow. Every town is virtually shut down for easter.
Walk to the Caribbean
I apologise for all the typos, this was written on my itouch.
Monday, March 22
I had been told by Walter that the road to the coast man Pixvae look easy and that winches were required on the most hardy of trucks In preparation we made a trippto Santiago and bought knee high rubber boots, 2 tens and I still more waterproof bags and some batteries and a file… Rodney bought a 24” machete. The “Doit Center”, Panama’s answer to home depot had but one type of file, a triangular metal file.
I went to pick up my bags which had been shipped the previous Thursday from Bocas Town but was disappointed to hear that not only were they not at the depot, the would not be there that day. I ran into Karina and Sarah. They had just come from Santa Catalina having left Hrssus and Anat were were spatting were were bound for Jaco, Costa Rica. I told them they would not bin in that town long and to look the the Brazilians once they blew into Nicaragua. We wont we be there long “It is a tourist town, hi rise hotels, McDonalds, whores and drugs.
Tuesday, March 23
At 4:00 we hopped the gate in the front of the hostel. The gate swung as I attempted to raise my right leg over the pointed bars. The heel of my boot was too wide to fit between the uprights of the wrought iron so I had to turn my right foot 180 degrees from my left foot while swinging precariously, knowing that a stumble would cause me to get impaled in my ass or into my lower abdominal cavity through my testicles. Rodney, my traveling companion of the week, sorry for not keeping you up to date, mentioned that it rained for 2 hours last week. Hell, this trip is supposed to be difficult enough as it is. I opted for returning to bed. We reawoke at 7 and later that evening Steve the Clueless and Carlos the Columbian madman real estate mogul chef came to visit.
Wednesday, March 24
4:30 I was servicing the hot Columbian woman I met on the beach when there was a rhythmic vibration in my chest followed immediately by a rhythmic chiming. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, and grabbed my bags. It is 4:30 in the morning and the sky is cloudless. We hopped the gate to the hostel and walked to the cell tower. We now await our chival, a covered 4 wheel drive pickup truck with benches in the bed running along each side. Chivals are used as transportation in Panama for very rural areas. The towns serviced by chivals probably have no cellular telephone service, no electrical service and one solar powered satellite pay phone. More on that later.
5:30 The chival arrived at exactly the designated time. There were two men already on board, one with a bicycle taking up the middle of the aisle. We stopped to pick up five more, three of which came in the back including the little boy who stood between my legs.
5:47 two more kids were offered the opportunity to ride by standing on the bumper and holding on to the covering of the bed but declined. The road became very rough very soon and holding on would be a chore.
7:42 One of the women removed the top of the shoe box she was clutching and out popped the head of a little puppy she was transporting.
8:19 We arrived and unloaded our bags. There is a “medical brigade” in town. People have walked up to 3 days to visit the clinic, having received the news that the brigade was in town over their battery powered radios. A line of several hundred people has formed and more people are arriving. I have no idea how these people are going to eat or where they are going to sleep.
9:04 Our horses and horseman are no where to be found. Louis Carlos, a tall English speaking gentleman from Santiago is going to inquire about our horses. I figure the guy couldn’t procure any horses and is not coming. He suggested we hire a guide to walk us there for $10 but we figured we were just walking on a road, how hard could this be?
10:14 We have been advised that there might be some horses in Ortiga, the next town down the trail.
10:46 I have finally convinced Rodney that we are not going to see any horses for rent and we started off on foot.
11:09 We are joined by a young Indian, Rogoberto and his mule. The mule is carrying two 6 gallon containers of diesel fuel and Rogoberto is walking.
11:58 We have arrived in Ortiga and visited with Padre Joe,
When we arrived at Ortiga, I ascended a hill on the side of the trail and took some pictures of the Catholic Church. “Padre?” I enquired and received and affirmative response. “Mi Llama, Jim.” “Me llama Jose”. “Mucho gusto.”
I asked if I could fill my water as I had already consumed the contents of a half liter bottle I figured I would be filling it from a tap but Father Jose went in an return with an opened bottle of cold water. I topped off my bottle and returned the remainder to the father who indicated that that I could keep it, but I had no room in my pack. Rodney came up off the trail, further pleasantries were exchanged. Rodney offered the father some peanuts, which he accepted. In exchange he fetched a bag the size of a small pillow case ready to burst its load of chocolate covered coffee beans. We didn’t want to breach the bag and declined his offer. We sat in awkward conversation alternated with comfortable silence and drank some coffee while looking down at the small village. People walk 3 to 4 hours to attend mass on Sunday. Finally we bid him farewell and proceeded on our journey. Just a short while down the road our new found friend stood patiently while his mule availed himself of the roadside greenery.
The sun burned off the cold as the day was warming up. The vigorous exercise and the sun heated me and I shed my rain jacket. I tried tying around my waist with a simple double overhand knot of the sleeves but the high tech fabric did not provide enough friction for the knot to be effective. I looped the sleeves several times through grab handle of my pack and we continued.
With each hill the road became increasingly muddy, the ruts deeper and the dry sections fewer and farther between. Following the test ground taken by the mule was the least problematic rout. At times the sticks, sideways in the mud were 18” to 2’ below the nominal road grade. Caterpillar tracks and huge tire tracks could be seen in the depressions, each of which was filled with mud.
The water was frequently used to wash off our boots, lightening them by several pounds apiece for a while until the next time we sank up to our knees and had to pull out our feed with a loud slurping and sucking sound glad to see that the food was extricate still bearing a boot.
Our travel became near sinusoidal, we covered nearly as much distance walking side to side in pursuit of the least muddy purchase.
Although we were descending to the coast is seemed to be an entirely uphill journey, the downhill portions ending much too quickly with a short level area which, which of course, being low, was muddier than the slope. Then yet another uphill slog. Sucking the boot out of the mud, slinging it high and resignedly watch the mud ooze around it as it sank to repeat the endless cycle.
Hour after hour after hour after hour we trod with no indication as to the extent of our progress. Finally we were told that we had but an hour left. A while Suzuki Samurai, lifted and fitted with chains at by the side of the road. We considered approaching the house and asking for a lift the rest of the way but decided that we should just tough it out so we could say we made it. The road became worse, far worse.
Rodney pull out a four liter bottle half filled with Tank. We lightened his load by sever al pounds as we emptied the bottle.
The road was always ostensibly downhill the rest of the way. We climbed yet another hill and I inquired, “ I thought this was all downhill from here, what did he says?” Rodney’s command of Spanish is quite possible worse than mine. As every question asked of Rogoberto elicited a response of “si” including “Do you scuba dive?” “Do you weld underwater?” Okay, affirmative responses mean nothing and our questions probably make no sense. The only thing we can ask is “Que hora mas?” (How many more hours?) But the response is always optimistic. Although the slightly built Indian takes short steps and not very rapidly his pace doesn’t very. This is no resting. He proceeds apace uphill at the same rat as on level ground or when descending. Like a bulldozer on tracks, the engine idling.
4:30 About 6 hours after we left we spotted the river, Rio Luis and we were on the outskirts of town. Rogoberto rand over to a small market and bought a couple of candies. We trudged on while he made his side trip. When he returned I inquired as to whether waster was for sale. I’m sure he understood “Aqua su vende aqui?” is pretty straight forward. Rodney did not want to walk back the hundred yards to the store. I wanted to send our guide. Rodney pointed out a store on the way an suggested that we buy it there rather than back track. I staggered like Christ bearing the crossbar on the way to his execution to the next store. Unfortunately they didn’t sell any beverages. Now I am really thirsty and more than a little pissed at Rodney. We made our way to the final store A cute woman sat in front of it. Like so many of these stores it was a small one room building next to the owner’s house. The woman was drinking a cold Pepsi ”Pepsi su vende aqui?” “Si” Well, no one was in the store, the house was closed and music was blaring This didn’t look good. I disgustedly said “One in the hand is worth two in the bush” After pulling out my emergency whistle I gave it a good blow and a shrill sound cut through all the background noise. The door was quickly opened and a girl stuck her face out
I blew my whistle and a lovely young girl appeared and I request a couple of sodas, she gave a disgusted look and shut the door. I sat down, sure I would not be standing again for a while and chatted with the lovely young woman in the dental frock adorned with dancing toothbrushes and dental floss. I said to Rodney, “A bird in the hand… fuck I need a drink.” Finally an old man came out and I ordered four Pepsis and then Rodney order two before I got mine. I guess the old man thought that we hand changed our order. I had ordered two for me, one for Rodney and one for Rogoberto. Whatever, this was easily fixed by “Dos Pepsi mas por favor”.
I asked the woman if she was a dental hygienist. She told me that she was a physician. With a little more conversation I found that she was the only doctor and town and ran clinic.
Rodney worked his phrasebook and Migdalia and Sabrina walked us down a path along the river and led us to the house of a middle aged Indian couple and left. I guess we were now their guests.
Our hosts were two Bugle booGLAY Indians in the early fifties. The house was a simple wooden frame structure on stilts, half in rooms and half sections of half walls.
In the corner of the kitchen was a large sandbox about 30” off the floor. A fire of wooden sticks burning in the center with the wood sticking out radially Large stones supported a pot which water was about to boil
Finally, ground coffee was stirred into a pot and added to the water which was brought to a boil and then pulled of the fire and rested on the sand. Smoke billowed out from around the pot, much of it rising through the thatch roof, some of blowing and wan and the balance wafting into the living quarters. After five minutes coffee was scooped out of the pot with half of shell of calabaso.
The only electrical appliances in evidence were small fluorescent fixtures in the kitchen and DC to AC inverter . What was probably a small television was on a shelf along the wall beneath a cloth. All electrical appliances seem to covered when not in use in these parts. The computer screens, computers and keyboard at the internet café were blanked when not in use. The floor was made of some sort of split wood about the thickness of lathing (maybe ¼” to 5/16”) and flexed when I walked on it. The joists were over two feet apart. I was sure I was going to fall through.
The first priority was to she the thick layers of mud that coated our lower extremities and launder the boots, socks and underwear. While Rodney scrubbed his boots in the plastic half barrel that constituted the sink I showered beneath the showed comprised of a hose bib.
After Rodney was done, Timotea washed my boots in a manner similar to Rodney. Unfortunately my boots had but drying mud in them but that could have been brushed out as my boots, being waterproof with gortex had been dry on the inside, now they were thoroughly soaked and would remain that way for days. The socks and boots were placed on the rocks to dry in the sun.
We were given a tour of the 5 hectare (about 12 ½ acres) farm. Our hosts lived on subsistence farming eating primarily high carb roots and green bananas and plantains.
Conversation was effected by our hosts writing down their questions in spanish. I then looked up each of the words and tried to translate it into English. Generally my translation elicited a nod from Timotea, he could understand some English, but not speak it.
Dinner was a bowl of white rice. We augmented the rice with some tuna and oil we had packed, hoping this wouldn’t be an insult to our hosts.
By 9:00 our hosts were ready to go to bed and we were shown to our sleeping quarters, small rooms over an open area used for church services conducted by our host. I hung my hammock diagonally in the 10 x 10 room and attempted to sleep; despite my physical exhaustion sleep eluded me for the most part. The pre-dawn hours were heralded by a cock that exploded outside the windows of my quarters. Breakfast was boiled yucca rendered slightly ore moist than kitty litter by the addition of one quarter the contents of a small tin of sardines in Tomato Sauce.
Thursday, March 25
This morning a rooster underneath the window of my sleeping quarters exploded in the pre dawn silence.
Breakfast was boiled yucca, boiled green banana with a very small portion of tinned sardines in tomato sauce, a fraction of an ounce.
The house is 9.68459 degrees north and 8122639 degrees west according to my GPS.
We inquired as to the cost of our room and board but the concept of charging somebody seemed to escape them. We set the rate at $8 per person per day and the money was graciously accepted.
I looked at the lovely grounds and inquired “Alguda Tierra su vende aqui?” (“is there land for sale here?”) Porrada! (insipid). Ok then, let’s pick another topic.
I strolled into town alone, Rodney had departed earlier. Every person passing issued a shy greeting. Every eye in town was on me. No other white man was in site. As I passed the school Rodney came out and called to me. He was observing an English class at the invite of the professor. I joined the class. Professor Riccardo Herrera had a terribly strong accent, I could barely understand him. He said that we were the only native English speakers he had ever seen in the town. The children were carrying on what I can only presume they consider standard English conversations? “Why is your mother so big?” Rodney looked at me quizzically and I in my not so quiet whisper say, “Muy Gordo.” (very fat). This cracked up the class and everybody relaxed a little bit.
Ricardo learned English from his wife, who learned it from a book. The pronunciation of much of it is barely comprehensible. “Wharre did chu larn aenglidsh?” There are only 2 English/Spanish dictionaries in the town, in the library. Everybody seems to have an English primer. All of the kids had machetes in class. They use them on the trails. You don’t want to step where you can’t see around here. This town of 200 residents gets poisonous snake bites per year. A phone call from the solar powered satellite pay phone, the only phone in town dispatches a helicopter to pick up the victim. Ricardo said their was somebody in the clinic that had been bitten by a snake and that he had the snake in a tank. The tank turned out to be a one gallon bucket with a sliced hinged door on it. I thought it contained a live fer-de-lance, but was relieved to discover that it was in preservative. The snake must have been 6’ long and would have been very dangerous.
After a morning stroll I attempted to launder my shirt. The red stains from the clay discolored the lower half of the back of the shirt. I had sat and fallen repeated during my walk.
Rodney ha d a bag of Guyava ,the one I was offered had the texture of plaster but it was not ripe yet.
The neighbor’s dog is all bones. When I asked why it was starving the explanation I received was “The dog is starving because it won’t eat bananas.” It ate every type of table scrap I gave it but bananas.
We swam in the river and Timotea caught snails and shrimp with which to fish but we didn’t fish much.
??? PM “Hoy a budcar Lena“. I am going to look for firewood. Timoteo put on his knee high rubber boots. I told him to wait. I put on my boots and followed him up the path over the barbed wire and along the muddy cow path then another fence and a slog up another hill. Down the other side we were looking down the tops of palms and he took his machete in his left hand and quickly hacked through thick branches of fallen trees. The branches were then planed end down on the ground. The section blows were directed in such a manner as to impart most of the energy into cleaving rather than bending the branch. Two bundles were secured through a modified truckers know with twine and a large branch was given to the six year old girl who followed us up the hill. On the way down the mountain I steeped in mud over the top of my boots and exclaimed loudly a four letter word that starts with the sixth letter of the English alphabet. After I got back I washed off my shirt the mud off my boots and legs and helped myself to a cup of coffee.
6:00 PM Finished negotiating a trip to the beach with Clemente. We will leave on Saturday and return Tuesday. Clemente is Timotea’s neighbor. He has a 7 meter cayuca (dugout canoe). The round trip cost is $60 per person. Consulting our notes later we realize that the rate should have been $50. Another man inquired as to whether we needed to be taken to the beach and without solicitation offered to take us round trip for $50 per person.
Now we are eating chestnuts while Paula boils green sweet bananas.
6:09 PM Professor Herrera came to visit while we were fishing and looking for somebody to take us to the beach. I charged my itouch on the small inverter and Timotea seem concerned about the amount of power I was using and said I could continue tomorrow.
7:36 PM Timotea hand grinds the coffee exceptionally fine. The coffee is then brewed hobo style then scooped out with half a giant shell from the pot. The coffee is grown on the farm and roasted here.
Tomorrow Timotea is going to his other finca to look for a lasso with which to catch a rabbit that is availing himself of the yucca. Remember this was a failure as it would have been easy for the rabbit to chew through.
5:30 Dinner of rice and beans is served.
7:57 Baby just got stung by scorpion. Timotea showed it to me, I photographed it. The women attended to the child who continued nursing. Then the baby started screaming and two women ran down the path to the clinic in the darkness. I gave Rodney my flashlight and eventually he caught up with them. There were 10 people at the clinic although with only one doctor in town these were supposed to be urgent hours and it was expected that they would have to knock on the doctors door. I went to the out building quarters initially attempting to use a candle but it was less than useless. It was easier to see by the nearly full moon.
10:38 As we are enjoying this little town and its environs we are chagrin to depart without further knowing its inhabitants and the varied land. As such we have schedule our departure following another full day here.
Friday, March 26
5:07 Lying in my hammock rooster crows occasionally. I just took out my space blanket as the heat has been dissipating all night. Writing on my ipod .
Regresso yo voy.
3/26 ??? 8:32 Ends of sticks charred together with drippings of plastic bags and a single match followed by the ends of the new sticks we gathered yesterday. Pot on the fire within 90 seconds. The pot filled with water and the grounds stirred into a bowl an the contents added to the pot.
10:11 Breakfast of boiled green bananas and a boiled egg. Timotea off to get a snare. Boots drying out from bleach wash.
I walked into town and the entire class was gathered around a large pond getting a lecture from the teacher. Later they shoveled off the grass growing on the bottom of the pond, heavily weighted down with, of course, mud. Rodney joined in with the shoveling, attending to the task barefoot. Afterwards Professor Maria Theresa offered him the use of her neighbors outdoor shower to clean up.
Professor Herrara was anxious to practice his English and we engaged in some banter. We advised him that we planned to proceed to the coast and we were advised that Coloveboro is not a nice town and that if we see fast boats or boats at night to take no pictures and to pretend not to notice. It turns out that the Samurai we saw on the way in is Ricardo’s (Professor Hererra). He walks the hour between Rio Luis and the car then drives the car to Santiago, where he lives, a drive of 5 hours. He stays in some provided housing right by the river on the night between the two days in which he teaches classes.
Relate later tale from Patricia about seeing the abandoned boat on the shore being emptied of flour and guards bearing submachine guns.
3:16 Lunch was heart of palm, omellete, fern and patacones. We gave up on our guide in getting a horse back he agreed to everything. Rafael thought that we had two horses back kon Thursday for seventeen dollars apiece but when I asked to see the horses I got the same yes with now suspicion that he had any understanding of what I was asking him. Fifteen minutes of trying to get him to show us the horses and I gave up. It seemed that we would have to walk back or take the long way around, taking a boat to Chirique Grande and bus down through Bocas, Chiriqui and back to Veraguas. We come back to the finca had lunch and wrote down our requirements to Timotea. Rodney is dealing with it. I have wash out my boots with bleach; but they are never going to dry. They need to be replaced.
10:02 PM Walked into town and got Spanish lessons while teaching English. Timotea is finishing a Protestant religious service under our sleeping quarters. I am sitting next to the generator about to read “Around the World in Eighty Days” on my ipod touch.
Saturday, March 27
At the appointed hour of 9:00 we went to Clemente’s house. He shouldered the 15 horsepower Johnson outboard and we walked to the river. I used dry bags to triple bag my electronics. Clemente’s two sons came with us. The older son was wearing black wing tipped leather shoes. I guess you take what you can get.
The uneventful boat trip took about and hour and a half. We pulled up to the shore at the end of the river and there was no village in site. I walked down the beach to investigate a large boat that had been abandoned on the shore, took some pictures and returned to our boat. We walked several hundred yards across a peninsula and stood at the shore. A young man across the bay noticed us standing there and entered a panga, a fiberglass boat design popular down here.
3/27 3:42 Just finished lunch no place to eat or sleep in this town. Lunch was chorizo, rice and pork and beans. My shoes are drying out and Rodney is in my hammock. I have about 30 dollars They said it was $500 to Chiriqui Grande. Sitting in the bar. Nobody is engaged in productive enterprise in this town.
9:07 pm We had five beers between us and lunch of chorizo rice and pork and beans delivered to the house attempted to sleep on the beach but were advised that it was a problem as there would be too much drinking. We were advised that we could have a room with hammocks, bathroom and food for two dollars a night apiece. We request our supper at seven and we thing we were told to return to the bar to get the meal. As it would then be dark and we weren’t sure of the location we asserted “comidas, Aqui” A whistle signaled the arrive of my food a meal of a one egg omellete, rice and beans.
9:30 pm a cry of “Hymie” and stepped outside to see a legless torso sprawled on the lawn. No it’s Rodney in a contorted yoga position. He needs help standing. “Whiskey” the man who brought him exclaimed. Rodney staggered into bed and I walked back into town.
9:46 pm One big amigo passing around whiskey. Boxing match on TV. Tipico stereo. Hymie Sombrero, much laughing and gesticulated sombrero, his son, which pictures near mi finca. Edgar.
600 people 400 women, 200 men 137 students 10 teachers.
Sol dos grings aqui pora annos. We are the only gringos that came in years and the only ones to walk from Guabal to Rio Lois.
Whiskey my friend pretend to take a big swig.
10:18 The moonlight is diffused through the solid cover of the clouds providing ubiquitous, sourceless light.
10:20 My front door is open, my window is open, the camera is on the shelf over my head and I am sweating my ass off about to return to the adventures of Philleas Fogg.
11:38 Hymie, Whiskey? JESUS CHRIST? Que? Hezoos Kristo. Much laughter.
12:06 Ate the rest of Rafael’s egg
March 28
8:05 Wooden building 14 meters by 7 meters atop a concrete slab of which full 200 centimeters were exposed. Along the front runs a full veranda on an attached bit thinner also protect by an extension of the thatched roof and supported by fluted trunks. The building is symmetrically trimmed in one by four painted white. The front is painted blue and green in equilateral triangles whose height matches the building. Each half is further halved with a door centered on its bisecting line and a window in the inner quadrant the doors are painted green, the right door does not open from the outside. The left door is secure by a massive padlocked attached to a flimsy stamped steel hasp. A hallway runs the front of the building. The left most portion is employed as a kitchen. The balance of the interior is divided into three rooms of equal size with internal walls a couple of meters in height. The rooms lack a ceiling affording good ventilation. A panelled window secure by a large shutter, The back wall of the room. Next to the house is a shower constructed of concrete block ms a very large single seat latrine. We have been provided luxurious accommodations..
9:42 am Borrows a pair of sandals from the room I am rending as my socks and shoes are not dry. I fear that these boots have seen their last journey. The soles are worn nearly through. I walked through the tropical forest of the village but found myself uncomfortable frequently in the yards of the locals engaging in their morning rituals and both trespassing and intruding on their privacy so I made my way to the beach and around the cove There I found a group drinking beer and displaying rubbing their enormous bellies. Their shirts were rolled up to the chest in some central American display of macho fatness. I inquired as to where I could buy hot coffee and was directed to a white house on the hill. I inquired at the store and then knocked an the house. The woman came down to the store and then went back to the house to make the coffee. I was invited into the kitchen to enjoy my two cups of coffee a large toast day in a plastic Noel ??? A has stove water running in the sink.
6:59 pm Finished with dinner domino playing etc Agree to meet with Edgar at his finca (farm). Edgar wore my hat at the finca by the pigs just up the river. We meet at here at 9:00.
7:10 Showing hospitality dinner, dominos lodging everybody knows where we are at all times
March 29
9:55 At 9 we are having coffee at the white house. We met a half Chinese Jehovah’s witness who was here on missionary work. This is his sixth time here . The first time he walk from Guabal to Rio Louis it took him seven hours. Now he does it in four.
March 30
11:00 While sitting on the stoop between the with house and the little store I receive a tap on the shoulder and saw the gentle countenance of Timotea of Rio Luis and behind him our pilot Clemente. Clement wandered off at procured some gasoline I double bagged all of my sensitive electronic equipment for the journey. During our prior trip to Edgars finca we had the portage the canoe twice dragging it over rocks at a couple of spots. This larger, heavier cayuca required more labor to achieve the same result As we worked our way upstream we had to occasionally pole vigorously to augment the 15 hp outboard in order to make progress. On dozens of occasion we had to pole or get out and drag the canoe either because the water was shallow or because it traveled with great speed and the outboard was unable to propel the craft upstream. The most difficult sections were against powerful deep currents. Standing waist deep in the current one had to lean upstream in order to avoid being knocked over. It was tiresome work
The river bottom is solid rock upon rock. There is no hope of seeing a foot hold in a sandy bottom.
It took nearly four hours to make the return journey, while our downstream journey lasted but an hour and a half.
March 31
Tuesday I walked barefoot to the white house and ordered two ups of coffee I was invited into the kitchen to consume my coffee. The woman was frying tortillas, thick corn patties, Breakfast to others also included fried canned meat, a ham/ spam linke tinned lunch mdath. This is a far cry from the Indian fare in Rio Lous but perhaps I need some calories to carry me through what promises to be a long day.
I just asked I think I I could buy breakfast. The giggling response I received was not reassuring. Desayunu su vende? Mi comprare Desayuno. Giggled response with hands kneading each other clutched to her ample matronly bosom I shall have to wait to seen another tortilla is placed in the pan. buit this is not necessarily an indication of success as she has been frying non stop as long as I have been consuming my coffee.
I have manage to buy a third coffee there was a bit of confusion as I offered her an additional 20 cents as she apparently thought that I was offering here the money for the two cups I had consumed my dollar was on the table along with my 60 cents change. I placed my 20 cents on top of the dollar. , pushied it in here direction and said “Uno Cafee mas Por favor” and then received another coffee my virtually nonexstan spaninsh caused the simples of trnastion to be complicated.
Tin after tin of meat is fried as a troop of people of all ages enter the kitchen one at a time following the serving of breakfast to the preceeding. Momma wanders out, brings in another and hands him a plate. The only cheese in sight is processed american not available in any store between here and Sana fee it it brought in from Colon by boat.
I sip my coffee very slowly and write hoping to stall long enough that my turn arrives and that I may get some nourishment.
The daughter we moved previously takes a fried corn tortilla and places a piece of processed cheese atop it. . She is very overweight and about 19 year so of age. A diet like this will produce this result especially in an individual apparently so sedentary.
My coffee cup is moved the sugar is moved am I to be served? Never has anything so unappealing look so appetizing.
Service!
The food though greasy was dry I poured a little salsa para concian which evinced shudder and giggles from those in the kitchen and was handed a salsa picante.
Ingrediatns, agua, vinagre, mezcla de especies achote, sal espeesant te exallanted de sabor y benzoato de sodia
Fat Girl is Sophia.
Rodney then sat up the porch as I exited the kitchen. I explained that many calories could be acquired for one dollar. He had no cash with him so I have him my last remain bill, a fife. The foud is coursing thoru g me I need immediate relief” What “ I need to take a shit right now. I walked back to our house still barefoot, along the beach, passing once to pinch my lower cheeks hoping I could make it in times of gastric distress. The urgency of the colon seems to be inversely proportional to the proximity of a latrine. Sensing relief it grows more impatient. I dropped the roll of hygenic paper and while inside the overly large outhouse and did not stop to pick it up. I made it to the stool in the nick of time.
9:35 Rodney returned and says that Edgar left twenty minutes ago Looking for a boat to take us to Edgar’s Finca. I mentioned twenty minutes ago that I had heard a boat. Why did Edgar leave without us?
Getting contradictory tales of Edgar. He is in this house. He is in that house. He has left. He is returning. He is not returning. I bought a tin of corned beef and six eggs and requested Huevos Revultos. I off $2.25 for corned beef $1.20 for 6 eggs. Change for cooking brought on a big smile.
Tuesday morning we connived a ride to Edgar’s finca. When we arrived there was no sign of life. We placed our bags on the porch and discussed our options. Edgar came out of the house half dressed and looking worse for the wear. While we got his permission to stroll the grounds and he retired into the house We explored multiple pastures and then walked over to the fruit trees. The bananas were green and the coconuts were unreachable. We swam for a while and then borrowed the cayuca. We went aways upstream and saw the boat that had transported us from the beach. Near the shore stood a palme replete with green coconuts as we had departed I stated that “I think I’ll bring my knife for no apparent reason. The knife was a solid 6” blade drop point Buck with resin handle and a substantial full length tang. I had use it this morning to cut saplings and branches with a single blow to clear the trail. I have used it to open coconuts so that I could drink the milk and and split them so that I coule eat the meat. Rodney indicated that we should ask the men gathered at the house before helping ourselves. Approaching the house I saw Edgar with his friends, trying to keep out of sight. He obviously had no intention of show us his land or selling any portion of it at $1,000 hectare.
As all conversation had ceased since our arrival I suggested that this was ackward and we went to return the cayuca and wait for a returning boat to hail for a ride to the beach. There were several spots where the cayuca had to be dragged across the shallow water. My tender feet couldn’t keep up with the pace. Rodney was setting so I swam, pulling myself along the bottom.
Our inbound ride started up and proceeded downstream in our direction. I pulled out my whistle and gave it a blow. It was heard by the pilot of the sounds of the outboard. He killed the engine and I yelled “Regresso playa” Return to Beach. He went downstream away and we docked our cayuca. We boarded the boat. Just before the last portage I noticed that my knife was no in its sheath. Inspection of the boat revealed that it was gone for good. After arriving beach at the beach we walked back to the market at the white house and then to the closed bar at which I am writing these notes. This is banana country.
There is little to do here. We got the keys to the house . We had turned them in to the lady at the white house along with $2/pp/day for room and board,. We obtained the keys agiain
=====
I left to look for Rodney. He was at the white house sitting netxt to two cans of beer looking sheepish. “I found cervesa.” “Well done my good friend” “”But then I drank them both, I am not a good friend right now.”
Where did you find them” “At the house next to the telephone.” Like many other towns there is but one telephone and no cellular service. The telephone is connected to a parabolic disk. Which I am guessing is a satellite disk as there is not receiving town in view and due to the topography if it sis not in view their can be not terrestrial complement. I shall have to ascertain the orientation of each of these dishes.
Fuck horse flies. Fuck Chitras. Fuck Egyptian mosquitoes.
I opened the building put my bags on my bed and resecured the building and we to for a stroll around town At one point I spied the garb of my traveling companion at a small store. The owner/clerk started to point me out to Rodney as I execute an abrupt about face and continued my meanderings in another direction. I now have six dollars in my picked. The nearest places to get more cash are Santiago 13 hours of travel away and Chiriquii Grande, three hours by fast boat. Yesterday we were quoted $500 fare to Chiriequ Grande an absurd amount of money an amount that could readily get me to Thailand from here. The Jehovah’s witness with whom I talked this morning said that he was going to Chirique Grande for $10. The boat departs once a week anyway and communal orders are placed in a school book bound path.
The alternative is to Santiago via Boat to Rio Luis and the questionable transport from Rio Luis to Guabal via horse. We were disappointed on our outbound journey by the failure of the man providing the horses to show in Guabal. which gave rise to our arduous and strenuous walk. From Guabal it would be a $3 2 hour Chival ride to Sand Fen and then a $2.5 bus rid e to Santiago lasting an hour.
Raining no ride, no horses, just hung out at the house. Timotea announced that we could put our bags on the back of his horse and walk back in the morning. He wanted to depart at 4:00. It is already dark. I hate packing in the dark, what am I going to leave behind?
Last night I tossed in my hammock finding sleep elusive. Negotiated to pay Timotea on the 9th of April when he comes to Sante Fe. He will pick up for Clemente. Breakfast of Patacones.
It is 9:00 we were walking to town and were advised that the truck will not be coming from Santa Fe One of them is ostensibly having mechanical problems They deny that the condition of the road is the cause. It is possible that a constriction truck will be coming today. If not today then maybe tomorrow. The we can walk tomorrow . We both fee that it is unlikely that we could make the trip in a today. Tomorrow Timotea will ride his horse to Guabal by a gallon of gas and return.
Schools are all closed for the holy week. The teachers have left for the city and the town is very quite.
11:45 Just ate tow sour oranges and ten minutes later my lips are sting tingling. I can just trying to wile away the hours. My shoes and socks are soaking. I walked in the fiver in them. Then I washed them and hung them out to dry but it rained last night.
Fuck Microsoft, I just lost 4 pages of typing as I was not watching my screen and affirmed a reboot to install upgrades.
11:45 Just ate two sour oranges and ten minutes later my lips are still tingling. I am just trying to wile away the hours. My shoes and socks are soaking. I walked in the river in them, then I washed them and hung them out to dry but it rained last night.
Lunch of lentils, rice and cat foot (mashed sardines)
April 1
Left at 6:30 No glasses packed in the dark. We walked back from Rio Luis to Guabal. We left around 6:30 and arrived at 11:30. The return trip, though with a significant increase in elevation was a significantly easier walk. At Ortiga we left the road and took the trail through the jungle which was much more scenic. We grabbed our bags from Timotea and ran to catch the Chival, which returns at 12:00.
2:00 The boys are back in town (Santa Fe). Off to Santiago to get some cash and then back . Charged camera. Glasses. Locals are quite impressed. One person in town has walked from Guabal to Rio Luis, nobody has walked both ways. We are like cult figures. Somebody at the hostel asked if it was possible to make the walked and were told that we had just finished it. They wanted it described. The more difficult the trip the stronger the appeal. Of course this was from a kid who intentionally stung himself with a bullet ant the day before. Bullet ant stings have been described as feeling like “walking barefoot on hot coals with a rusty spike in the foot.”
Monday, March 22
I had been told by Walter that the road to the coast man Pixvae look easy and that winches were required on the most hardy of trucks In preparation we made a trippto Santiago and bought knee high rubber boots, 2 tens and I still more waterproof bags and some batteries and a file… Rodney bought a 24” machete. The “Doit Center”, Panama’s answer to home depot had but one type of file, a triangular metal file.
I went to pick up my bags which had been shipped the previous Thursday from Bocas Town but was disappointed to hear that not only were they not at the depot, the would not be there that day. I ran into Karina and Sarah. They had just come from Santa Catalina having left Hrssus and Anat were were spatting were were bound for Jaco, Costa Rica. I told them they would not bin in that town long and to look the the Brazilians once they blew into Nicaragua. We wont we be there long “It is a tourist town, hi rise hotels, McDonalds, whores and drugs.
Tuesday, March 23
At 4:00 we hopped the gate in the front of the hostel. The gate swung as I attempted to raise my right leg over the pointed bars. The heel of my boot was too wide to fit between the uprights of the wrought iron so I had to turn my right foot 180 degrees from my left foot while swinging precariously, knowing that a stumble would cause me to get impaled in my ass or into my lower abdominal cavity through my testicles. Rodney, my traveling companion of the week, sorry for not keeping you up to date, mentioned that it rained for 2 hours last week. Hell, this trip is supposed to be difficult enough as it is. I opted for returning to bed. We reawoke at 7 and later that evening Steve the Clueless and Carlos the Columbian madman real estate mogul chef came to visit.
Wednesday, March 24
4:30 I was servicing the hot Columbian woman I met on the beach when there was a rhythmic vibration in my chest followed immediately by a rhythmic chiming. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, and grabbed my bags. It is 4:30 in the morning and the sky is cloudless. We hopped the gate to the hostel and walked to the cell tower. We now await our chival, a covered 4 wheel drive pickup truck with benches in the bed running along each side. Chivals are used as transportation in Panama for very rural areas. The towns serviced by chivals probably have no cellular telephone service, no electrical service and one solar powered satellite pay phone. More on that later.
5:30 The chival arrived at exactly the designated time. There were two men already on board, one with a bicycle taking up the middle of the aisle. We stopped to pick up five more, three of which came in the back including the little boy who stood between my legs.
5:47 two more kids were offered the opportunity to ride by standing on the bumper and holding on to the covering of the bed but declined. The road became very rough very soon and holding on would be a chore.
7:42 One of the women removed the top of the shoe box she was clutching and out popped the head of a little puppy she was transporting.
8:19 We arrived and unloaded our bags. There is a “medical brigade” in town. People have walked up to 3 days to visit the clinic, having received the news that the brigade was in town over their battery powered radios. A line of several hundred people has formed and more people are arriving. I have no idea how these people are going to eat or where they are going to sleep.
9:04 Our horses and horseman are no where to be found. Louis Carlos, a tall English speaking gentleman from Santiago is going to inquire about our horses. I figure the guy couldn’t procure any horses and is not coming. He suggested we hire a guide to walk us there for $10 but we figured we were just walking on a road, how hard could this be?
10:14 We have been advised that there might be some horses in Ortiga, the next town down the trail.
10:46 I have finally convinced Rodney that we are not going to see any horses for rent and we started off on foot.
11:09 We are joined by a young Indian, Rogoberto and his mule. The mule is carrying two 6 gallon containers of diesel fuel and Rogoberto is walking.
11:58 We have arrived in Ortiga and visited with Padre Joe,
When we arrived at Ortiga, I ascended a hill on the side of the trail and took some pictures of the Catholic Church. “Padre?” I enquired and received and affirmative response. “Mi Llama, Jim.” “Me llama Jose”. “Mucho gusto.”
I asked if I could fill my water as I had already consumed the contents of a half liter bottle I figured I would be filling it from a tap but Father Jose went in an return with an opened bottle of cold water. I topped off my bottle and returned the remainder to the father who indicated that that I could keep it, but I had no room in my pack. Rodney came up off the trail, further pleasantries were exchanged. Rodney offered the father some peanuts, which he accepted. In exchange he fetched a bag the size of a small pillow case ready to burst its load of chocolate covered coffee beans. We didn’t want to breach the bag and declined his offer. We sat in awkward conversation alternated with comfortable silence and drank some coffee while looking down at the small village. People walk 3 to 4 hours to attend mass on Sunday. Finally we bid him farewell and proceeded on our journey. Just a short while down the road our new found friend stood patiently while his mule availed himself of the roadside greenery.
The sun burned off the cold as the day was warming up. The vigorous exercise and the sun heated me and I shed my rain jacket. I tried tying around my waist with a simple double overhand knot of the sleeves but the high tech fabric did not provide enough friction for the knot to be effective. I looped the sleeves several times through grab handle of my pack and we continued.
With each hill the road became increasingly muddy, the ruts deeper and the dry sections fewer and farther between. Following the test ground taken by the mule was the least problematic rout. At times the sticks, sideways in the mud were 18” to 2’ below the nominal road grade. Caterpillar tracks and huge tire tracks could be seen in the depressions, each of which was filled with mud.
The water was frequently used to wash off our boots, lightening them by several pounds apiece for a while until the next time we sank up to our knees and had to pull out our feed with a loud slurping and sucking sound glad to see that the food was extricate still bearing a boot.
Our travel became near sinusoidal, we covered nearly as much distance walking side to side in pursuit of the least muddy purchase.
Although we were descending to the coast is seemed to be an entirely uphill journey, the downhill portions ending much too quickly with a short level area which, which of course, being low, was muddier than the slope. Then yet another uphill slog. Sucking the boot out of the mud, slinging it high and resignedly watch the mud ooze around it as it sank to repeat the endless cycle.
Hour after hour after hour after hour we trod with no indication as to the extent of our progress. Finally we were told that we had but an hour left. A while Suzuki Samurai, lifted and fitted with chains at by the side of the road. We considered approaching the house and asking for a lift the rest of the way but decided that we should just tough it out so we could say we made it. The road became worse, far worse.
Rodney pull out a four liter bottle half filled with Tank. We lightened his load by sever al pounds as we emptied the bottle.
The road was always ostensibly downhill the rest of the way. We climbed yet another hill and I inquired, “ I thought this was all downhill from here, what did he says?” Rodney’s command of Spanish is quite possible worse than mine. As every question asked of Rogoberto elicited a response of “si” including “Do you scuba dive?” “Do you weld underwater?” Okay, affirmative responses mean nothing and our questions probably make no sense. The only thing we can ask is “Que hora mas?” (How many more hours?) But the response is always optimistic. Although the slightly built Indian takes short steps and not very rapidly his pace doesn’t very. This is no resting. He proceeds apace uphill at the same rat as on level ground or when descending. Like a bulldozer on tracks, the engine idling.
4:30 About 6 hours after we left we spotted the river, Rio Luis and we were on the outskirts of town. Rogoberto rand over to a small market and bought a couple of candies. We trudged on while he made his side trip. When he returned I inquired as to whether waster was for sale. I’m sure he understood “Aqua su vende aqui?” is pretty straight forward. Rodney did not want to walk back the hundred yards to the store. I wanted to send our guide. Rodney pointed out a store on the way an suggested that we buy it there rather than back track. I staggered like Christ bearing the crossbar on the way to his execution to the next store. Unfortunately they didn’t sell any beverages. Now I am really thirsty and more than a little pissed at Rodney. We made our way to the final store A cute woman sat in front of it. Like so many of these stores it was a small one room building next to the owner’s house. The woman was drinking a cold Pepsi ”Pepsi su vende aqui?” “Si” Well, no one was in the store, the house was closed and music was blaring This didn’t look good. I disgustedly said “One in the hand is worth two in the bush” After pulling out my emergency whistle I gave it a good blow and a shrill sound cut through all the background noise. The door was quickly opened and a girl stuck her face out
I blew my whistle and a lovely young girl appeared and I request a couple of sodas, she gave a disgusted look and shut the door. I sat down, sure I would not be standing again for a while and chatted with the lovely young woman in the dental frock adorned with dancing toothbrushes and dental floss. I said to Rodney, “A bird in the hand… fuck I need a drink.” Finally an old man came out and I ordered four Pepsis and then Rodney order two before I got mine. I guess the old man thought that we hand changed our order. I had ordered two for me, one for Rodney and one for Rogoberto. Whatever, this was easily fixed by “Dos Pepsi mas por favor”.
I asked the woman if she was a dental hygienist. She told me that she was a physician. With a little more conversation I found that she was the only doctor and town and ran clinic.
Rodney worked his phrasebook and Migdalia and Sabrina walked us down a path along the river and led us to the house of a middle aged Indian couple and left. I guess we were now their guests.
Our hosts were two Bugle booGLAY Indians in the early fifties. The house was a simple wooden frame structure on stilts, half in rooms and half sections of half walls.
In the corner of the kitchen was a large sandbox about 30” off the floor. A fire of wooden sticks burning in the center with the wood sticking out radially Large stones supported a pot which water was about to boil
Finally, ground coffee was stirred into a pot and added to the water which was brought to a boil and then pulled of the fire and rested on the sand. Smoke billowed out from around the pot, much of it rising through the thatch roof, some of blowing and wan and the balance wafting into the living quarters. After five minutes coffee was scooped out of the pot with half of shell of calabaso.
The only electrical appliances in evidence were small fluorescent fixtures in the kitchen and DC to AC inverter . What was probably a small television was on a shelf along the wall beneath a cloth. All electrical appliances seem to covered when not in use in these parts. The computer screens, computers and keyboard at the internet café were blanked when not in use. The floor was made of some sort of split wood about the thickness of lathing (maybe ¼” to 5/16”) and flexed when I walked on it. The joists were over two feet apart. I was sure I was going to fall through.
The first priority was to she the thick layers of mud that coated our lower extremities and launder the boots, socks and underwear. While Rodney scrubbed his boots in the plastic half barrel that constituted the sink I showered beneath the showed comprised of a hose bib.
After Rodney was done, Timotea washed my boots in a manner similar to Rodney. Unfortunately my boots had but drying mud in them but that could have been brushed out as my boots, being waterproof with gortex had been dry on the inside, now they were thoroughly soaked and would remain that way for days. The socks and boots were placed on the rocks to dry in the sun.
We were given a tour of the 5 hectare (about 12 ½ acres) farm. Our hosts lived on subsistence farming eating primarily high carb roots and green bananas and plantains.
Conversation was effected by our hosts writing down their questions in spanish. I then looked up each of the words and tried to translate it into English. Generally my translation elicited a nod from Timotea, he could understand some English, but not speak it.
Dinner was a bowl of white rice. We augmented the rice with some tuna and oil we had packed, hoping this wouldn’t be an insult to our hosts.
By 9:00 our hosts were ready to go to bed and we were shown to our sleeping quarters, small rooms over an open area used for church services conducted by our host. I hung my hammock diagonally in the 10 x 10 room and attempted to sleep; despite my physical exhaustion sleep eluded me for the most part. The pre-dawn hours were heralded by a cock that exploded outside the windows of my quarters. Breakfast was boiled yucca rendered slightly ore moist than kitty litter by the addition of one quarter the contents of a small tin of sardines in Tomato Sauce.
Thursday, March 25
This morning a rooster underneath the window of my sleeping quarters exploded in the pre dawn silence.
Breakfast was boiled yucca, boiled green banana with a very small portion of tinned sardines in tomato sauce, a fraction of an ounce.
The house is 9.68459 degrees north and 8122639 degrees west according to my GPS.
We inquired as to the cost of our room and board but the concept of charging somebody seemed to escape them. We set the rate at $8 per person per day and the money was graciously accepted.
I looked at the lovely grounds and inquired “Alguda Tierra su vende aqui?” (“is there land for sale here?”) Porrada! (insipid). Ok then, let’s pick another topic.
I strolled into town alone, Rodney had departed earlier. Every person passing issued a shy greeting. Every eye in town was on me. No other white man was in site. As I passed the school Rodney came out and called to me. He was observing an English class at the invite of the professor. I joined the class. Professor Riccardo Herrera had a terribly strong accent, I could barely understand him. He said that we were the only native English speakers he had ever seen in the town. The children were carrying on what I can only presume they consider standard English conversations? “Why is your mother so big?” Rodney looked at me quizzically and I in my not so quiet whisper say, “Muy Gordo.” (very fat). This cracked up the class and everybody relaxed a little bit.
Ricardo learned English from his wife, who learned it from a book. The pronunciation of much of it is barely comprehensible. “Wharre did chu larn aenglidsh?” There are only 2 English/Spanish dictionaries in the town, in the library. Everybody seems to have an English primer. All of the kids had machetes in class. They use them on the trails. You don’t want to step where you can’t see around here. This town of 200 residents gets poisonous snake bites per year. A phone call from the solar powered satellite pay phone, the only phone in town dispatches a helicopter to pick up the victim. Ricardo said their was somebody in the clinic that had been bitten by a snake and that he had the snake in a tank. The tank turned out to be a one gallon bucket with a sliced hinged door on it. I thought it contained a live fer-de-lance, but was relieved to discover that it was in preservative. The snake must have been 6’ long and would have been very dangerous.
After a morning stroll I attempted to launder my shirt. The red stains from the clay discolored the lower half of the back of the shirt. I had sat and fallen repeated during my walk.
Rodney ha d a bag of Guyava ,the one I was offered had the texture of plaster but it was not ripe yet.
The neighbor’s dog is all bones. When I asked why it was starving the explanation I received was “The dog is starving because it won’t eat bananas.” It ate every type of table scrap I gave it but bananas.
We swam in the river and Timotea caught snails and shrimp with which to fish but we didn’t fish much.
??? PM “Hoy a budcar Lena“. I am going to look for firewood. Timoteo put on his knee high rubber boots. I told him to wait. I put on my boots and followed him up the path over the barbed wire and along the muddy cow path then another fence and a slog up another hill. Down the other side we were looking down the tops of palms and he took his machete in his left hand and quickly hacked through thick branches of fallen trees. The branches were then planed end down on the ground. The section blows were directed in such a manner as to impart most of the energy into cleaving rather than bending the branch. Two bundles were secured through a modified truckers know with twine and a large branch was given to the six year old girl who followed us up the hill. On the way down the mountain I steeped in mud over the top of my boots and exclaimed loudly a four letter word that starts with the sixth letter of the English alphabet. After I got back I washed off my shirt the mud off my boots and legs and helped myself to a cup of coffee.
6:00 PM Finished negotiating a trip to the beach with Clemente. We will leave on Saturday and return Tuesday. Clemente is Timotea’s neighbor. He has a 7 meter cayuca (dugout canoe). The round trip cost is $60 per person. Consulting our notes later we realize that the rate should have been $50. Another man inquired as to whether we needed to be taken to the beach and without solicitation offered to take us round trip for $50 per person.
Now we are eating chestnuts while Paula boils green sweet bananas.
6:09 PM Professor Herrera came to visit while we were fishing and looking for somebody to take us to the beach. I charged my itouch on the small inverter and Timotea seem concerned about the amount of power I was using and said I could continue tomorrow.
7:36 PM Timotea hand grinds the coffee exceptionally fine. The coffee is then brewed hobo style then scooped out with half a giant shell from the pot. The coffee is grown on the farm and roasted here.
Tomorrow Timotea is going to his other finca to look for a lasso with which to catch a rabbit that is availing himself of the yucca. Remember this was a failure as it would have been easy for the rabbit to chew through.
5:30 Dinner of rice and beans is served.
7:57 Baby just got stung by scorpion. Timotea showed it to me, I photographed it. The women attended to the child who continued nursing. Then the baby started screaming and two women ran down the path to the clinic in the darkness. I gave Rodney my flashlight and eventually he caught up with them. There were 10 people at the clinic although with only one doctor in town these were supposed to be urgent hours and it was expected that they would have to knock on the doctors door. I went to the out building quarters initially attempting to use a candle but it was less than useless. It was easier to see by the nearly full moon.
10:38 As we are enjoying this little town and its environs we are chagrin to depart without further knowing its inhabitants and the varied land. As such we have schedule our departure following another full day here.
Friday, March 26
5:07 Lying in my hammock rooster crows occasionally. I just took out my space blanket as the heat has been dissipating all night. Writing on my ipod .
Regresso yo voy.
3/26 ??? 8:32 Ends of sticks charred together with drippings of plastic bags and a single match followed by the ends of the new sticks we gathered yesterday. Pot on the fire within 90 seconds. The pot filled with water and the grounds stirred into a bowl an the contents added to the pot.
10:11 Breakfast of boiled green bananas and a boiled egg. Timotea off to get a snare. Boots drying out from bleach wash.
I walked into town and the entire class was gathered around a large pond getting a lecture from the teacher. Later they shoveled off the grass growing on the bottom of the pond, heavily weighted down with, of course, mud. Rodney joined in with the shoveling, attending to the task barefoot. Afterwards Professor Maria Theresa offered him the use of her neighbors outdoor shower to clean up.
Professor Herrara was anxious to practice his English and we engaged in some banter. We advised him that we planned to proceed to the coast and we were advised that Coloveboro is not a nice town and that if we see fast boats or boats at night to take no pictures and to pretend not to notice. It turns out that the Samurai we saw on the way in is Ricardo’s (Professor Hererra). He walks the hour between Rio Luis and the car then drives the car to Santiago, where he lives, a drive of 5 hours. He stays in some provided housing right by the river on the night between the two days in which he teaches classes.
Relate later tale from Patricia about seeing the abandoned boat on the shore being emptied of flour and guards bearing submachine guns.
3:16 Lunch was heart of palm, omellete, fern and patacones. We gave up on our guide in getting a horse back he agreed to everything. Rafael thought that we had two horses back kon Thursday for seventeen dollars apiece but when I asked to see the horses I got the same yes with now suspicion that he had any understanding of what I was asking him. Fifteen minutes of trying to get him to show us the horses and I gave up. It seemed that we would have to walk back or take the long way around, taking a boat to Chirique Grande and bus down through Bocas, Chiriqui and back to Veraguas. We come back to the finca had lunch and wrote down our requirements to Timotea. Rodney is dealing with it. I have wash out my boots with bleach; but they are never going to dry. They need to be replaced.
10:02 PM Walked into town and got Spanish lessons while teaching English. Timotea is finishing a Protestant religious service under our sleeping quarters. I am sitting next to the generator about to read “Around the World in Eighty Days” on my ipod touch.
Saturday, March 27
At the appointed hour of 9:00 we went to Clemente’s house. He shouldered the 15 horsepower Johnson outboard and we walked to the river. I used dry bags to triple bag my electronics. Clemente’s two sons came with us. The older son was wearing black wing tipped leather shoes. I guess you take what you can get.
The uneventful boat trip took about and hour and a half. We pulled up to the shore at the end of the river and there was no village in site. I walked down the beach to investigate a large boat that had been abandoned on the shore, took some pictures and returned to our boat. We walked several hundred yards across a peninsula and stood at the shore. A young man across the bay noticed us standing there and entered a panga, a fiberglass boat design popular down here.
3/27 3:42 Just finished lunch no place to eat or sleep in this town. Lunch was chorizo, rice and pork and beans. My shoes are drying out and Rodney is in my hammock. I have about 30 dollars They said it was $500 to Chiriqui Grande. Sitting in the bar. Nobody is engaged in productive enterprise in this town.
9:07 pm We had five beers between us and lunch of chorizo rice and pork and beans delivered to the house attempted to sleep on the beach but were advised that it was a problem as there would be too much drinking. We were advised that we could have a room with hammocks, bathroom and food for two dollars a night apiece. We request our supper at seven and we thing we were told to return to the bar to get the meal. As it would then be dark and we weren’t sure of the location we asserted “comidas, Aqui” A whistle signaled the arrive of my food a meal of a one egg omellete, rice and beans.
9:30 pm a cry of “Hymie” and stepped outside to see a legless torso sprawled on the lawn. No it’s Rodney in a contorted yoga position. He needs help standing. “Whiskey” the man who brought him exclaimed. Rodney staggered into bed and I walked back into town.
9:46 pm One big amigo passing around whiskey. Boxing match on TV. Tipico stereo. Hymie Sombrero, much laughing and gesticulated sombrero, his son, which pictures near mi finca. Edgar.
600 people 400 women, 200 men 137 students 10 teachers.
Sol dos grings aqui pora annos. We are the only gringos that came in years and the only ones to walk from Guabal to Rio Lois.
Whiskey my friend pretend to take a big swig.
10:18 The moonlight is diffused through the solid cover of the clouds providing ubiquitous, sourceless light.
10:20 My front door is open, my window is open, the camera is on the shelf over my head and I am sweating my ass off about to return to the adventures of Philleas Fogg.
11:38 Hymie, Whiskey? JESUS CHRIST? Que? Hezoos Kristo. Much laughter.
12:06 Ate the rest of Rafael’s egg
March 28
8:05 Wooden building 14 meters by 7 meters atop a concrete slab of which full 200 centimeters were exposed. Along the front runs a full veranda on an attached bit thinner also protect by an extension of the thatched roof and supported by fluted trunks. The building is symmetrically trimmed in one by four painted white. The front is painted blue and green in equilateral triangles whose height matches the building. Each half is further halved with a door centered on its bisecting line and a window in the inner quadrant the doors are painted green, the right door does not open from the outside. The left door is secure by a massive padlocked attached to a flimsy stamped steel hasp. A hallway runs the front of the building. The left most portion is employed as a kitchen. The balance of the interior is divided into three rooms of equal size with internal walls a couple of meters in height. The rooms lack a ceiling affording good ventilation. A panelled window secure by a large shutter, The back wall of the room. Next to the house is a shower constructed of concrete block ms a very large single seat latrine. We have been provided luxurious accommodations..
9:42 am Borrows a pair of sandals from the room I am rending as my socks and shoes are not dry. I fear that these boots have seen their last journey. The soles are worn nearly through. I walked through the tropical forest of the village but found myself uncomfortable frequently in the yards of the locals engaging in their morning rituals and both trespassing and intruding on their privacy so I made my way to the beach and around the cove There I found a group drinking beer and displaying rubbing their enormous bellies. Their shirts were rolled up to the chest in some central American display of macho fatness. I inquired as to where I could buy hot coffee and was directed to a white house on the hill. I inquired at the store and then knocked an the house. The woman came down to the store and then went back to the house to make the coffee. I was invited into the kitchen to enjoy my two cups of coffee a large toast day in a plastic Noel ??? A has stove water running in the sink.
6:59 pm Finished with dinner domino playing etc Agree to meet with Edgar at his finca (farm). Edgar wore my hat at the finca by the pigs just up the river. We meet at here at 9:00.
7:10 Showing hospitality dinner, dominos lodging everybody knows where we are at all times
March 29
9:55 At 9 we are having coffee at the white house. We met a half Chinese Jehovah’s witness who was here on missionary work. This is his sixth time here . The first time he walk from Guabal to Rio Louis it took him seven hours. Now he does it in four.
March 30
11:00 While sitting on the stoop between the with house and the little store I receive a tap on the shoulder and saw the gentle countenance of Timotea of Rio Luis and behind him our pilot Clemente. Clement wandered off at procured some gasoline I double bagged all of my sensitive electronic equipment for the journey. During our prior trip to Edgars finca we had the portage the canoe twice dragging it over rocks at a couple of spots. This larger, heavier cayuca required more labor to achieve the same result As we worked our way upstream we had to occasionally pole vigorously to augment the 15 hp outboard in order to make progress. On dozens of occasion we had to pole or get out and drag the canoe either because the water was shallow or because it traveled with great speed and the outboard was unable to propel the craft upstream. The most difficult sections were against powerful deep currents. Standing waist deep in the current one had to lean upstream in order to avoid being knocked over. It was tiresome work
The river bottom is solid rock upon rock. There is no hope of seeing a foot hold in a sandy bottom.
It took nearly four hours to make the return journey, while our downstream journey lasted but an hour and a half.
March 31
Tuesday I walked barefoot to the white house and ordered two ups of coffee I was invited into the kitchen to consume my coffee. The woman was frying tortillas, thick corn patties, Breakfast to others also included fried canned meat, a ham/ spam linke tinned lunch mdath. This is a far cry from the Indian fare in Rio Lous but perhaps I need some calories to carry me through what promises to be a long day.
I just asked I think I I could buy breakfast. The giggling response I received was not reassuring. Desayunu su vende? Mi comprare Desayuno. Giggled response with hands kneading each other clutched to her ample matronly bosom I shall have to wait to seen another tortilla is placed in the pan. buit this is not necessarily an indication of success as she has been frying non stop as long as I have been consuming my coffee.
I have manage to buy a third coffee there was a bit of confusion as I offered her an additional 20 cents as she apparently thought that I was offering here the money for the two cups I had consumed my dollar was on the table along with my 60 cents change. I placed my 20 cents on top of the dollar. , pushied it in here direction and said “Uno Cafee mas Por favor” and then received another coffee my virtually nonexstan spaninsh caused the simples of trnastion to be complicated.
Tin after tin of meat is fried as a troop of people of all ages enter the kitchen one at a time following the serving of breakfast to the preceeding. Momma wanders out, brings in another and hands him a plate. The only cheese in sight is processed american not available in any store between here and Sana fee it it brought in from Colon by boat.
I sip my coffee very slowly and write hoping to stall long enough that my turn arrives and that I may get some nourishment.
The daughter we moved previously takes a fried corn tortilla and places a piece of processed cheese atop it. . She is very overweight and about 19 year so of age. A diet like this will produce this result especially in an individual apparently so sedentary.
My coffee cup is moved the sugar is moved am I to be served? Never has anything so unappealing look so appetizing.
Service!
The food though greasy was dry I poured a little salsa para concian which evinced shudder and giggles from those in the kitchen and was handed a salsa picante.
Ingrediatns, agua, vinagre, mezcla de especies achote, sal espeesant te exallanted de sabor y benzoato de sodia
Fat Girl is Sophia.
Rodney then sat up the porch as I exited the kitchen. I explained that many calories could be acquired for one dollar. He had no cash with him so I have him my last remain bill, a fife. The foud is coursing thoru g me I need immediate relief” What “ I need to take a shit right now. I walked back to our house still barefoot, along the beach, passing once to pinch my lower cheeks hoping I could make it in times of gastric distress. The urgency of the colon seems to be inversely proportional to the proximity of a latrine. Sensing relief it grows more impatient. I dropped the roll of hygenic paper and while inside the overly large outhouse and did not stop to pick it up. I made it to the stool in the nick of time.
9:35 Rodney returned and says that Edgar left twenty minutes ago Looking for a boat to take us to Edgar’s Finca. I mentioned twenty minutes ago that I had heard a boat. Why did Edgar leave without us?
Getting contradictory tales of Edgar. He is in this house. He is in that house. He has left. He is returning. He is not returning. I bought a tin of corned beef and six eggs and requested Huevos Revultos. I off $2.25 for corned beef $1.20 for 6 eggs. Change for cooking brought on a big smile.
Tuesday morning we connived a ride to Edgar’s finca. When we arrived there was no sign of life. We placed our bags on the porch and discussed our options. Edgar came out of the house half dressed and looking worse for the wear. While we got his permission to stroll the grounds and he retired into the house We explored multiple pastures and then walked over to the fruit trees. The bananas were green and the coconuts were unreachable. We swam for a while and then borrowed the cayuca. We went aways upstream and saw the boat that had transported us from the beach. Near the shore stood a palme replete with green coconuts as we had departed I stated that “I think I’ll bring my knife for no apparent reason. The knife was a solid 6” blade drop point Buck with resin handle and a substantial full length tang. I had use it this morning to cut saplings and branches with a single blow to clear the trail. I have used it to open coconuts so that I could drink the milk and and split them so that I coule eat the meat. Rodney indicated that we should ask the men gathered at the house before helping ourselves. Approaching the house I saw Edgar with his friends, trying to keep out of sight. He obviously had no intention of show us his land or selling any portion of it at $1,000 hectare.
As all conversation had ceased since our arrival I suggested that this was ackward and we went to return the cayuca and wait for a returning boat to hail for a ride to the beach. There were several spots where the cayuca had to be dragged across the shallow water. My tender feet couldn’t keep up with the pace. Rodney was setting so I swam, pulling myself along the bottom.
Our inbound ride started up and proceeded downstream in our direction. I pulled out my whistle and gave it a blow. It was heard by the pilot of the sounds of the outboard. He killed the engine and I yelled “Regresso playa” Return to Beach. He went downstream away and we docked our cayuca. We boarded the boat. Just before the last portage I noticed that my knife was no in its sheath. Inspection of the boat revealed that it was gone for good. After arriving beach at the beach we walked back to the market at the white house and then to the closed bar at which I am writing these notes. This is banana country.
There is little to do here. We got the keys to the house . We had turned them in to the lady at the white house along with $2/pp/day for room and board,. We obtained the keys agiain
=====
I left to look for Rodney. He was at the white house sitting netxt to two cans of beer looking sheepish. “I found cervesa.” “Well done my good friend” “”But then I drank them both, I am not a good friend right now.”
Where did you find them” “At the house next to the telephone.” Like many other towns there is but one telephone and no cellular service. The telephone is connected to a parabolic disk. Which I am guessing is a satellite disk as there is not receiving town in view and due to the topography if it sis not in view their can be not terrestrial complement. I shall have to ascertain the orientation of each of these dishes.
Fuck horse flies. Fuck Chitras. Fuck Egyptian mosquitoes.
I opened the building put my bags on my bed and resecured the building and we to for a stroll around town At one point I spied the garb of my traveling companion at a small store. The owner/clerk started to point me out to Rodney as I execute an abrupt about face and continued my meanderings in another direction. I now have six dollars in my picked. The nearest places to get more cash are Santiago 13 hours of travel away and Chiriquii Grande, three hours by fast boat. Yesterday we were quoted $500 fare to Chiriequ Grande an absurd amount of money an amount that could readily get me to Thailand from here. The Jehovah’s witness with whom I talked this morning said that he was going to Chirique Grande for $10. The boat departs once a week anyway and communal orders are placed in a school book bound path.
The alternative is to Santiago via Boat to Rio Luis and the questionable transport from Rio Luis to Guabal via horse. We were disappointed on our outbound journey by the failure of the man providing the horses to show in Guabal. which gave rise to our arduous and strenuous walk. From Guabal it would be a $3 2 hour Chival ride to Sand Fen and then a $2.5 bus rid e to Santiago lasting an hour.
Raining no ride, no horses, just hung out at the house. Timotea announced that we could put our bags on the back of his horse and walk back in the morning. He wanted to depart at 4:00. It is already dark. I hate packing in the dark, what am I going to leave behind?
Last night I tossed in my hammock finding sleep elusive. Negotiated to pay Timotea on the 9th of April when he comes to Sante Fe. He will pick up for Clemente. Breakfast of Patacones.
It is 9:00 we were walking to town and were advised that the truck will not be coming from Santa Fe One of them is ostensibly having mechanical problems They deny that the condition of the road is the cause. It is possible that a constriction truck will be coming today. If not today then maybe tomorrow. The we can walk tomorrow . We both fee that it is unlikely that we could make the trip in a today. Tomorrow Timotea will ride his horse to Guabal by a gallon of gas and return.
Schools are all closed for the holy week. The teachers have left for the city and the town is very quite.
11:45 Just ate tow sour oranges and ten minutes later my lips are sting tingling. I can just trying to wile away the hours. My shoes and socks are soaking. I walked in the fiver in them. Then I washed them and hung them out to dry but it rained last night.
Fuck Microsoft, I just lost 4 pages of typing as I was not watching my screen and affirmed a reboot to install upgrades.
11:45 Just ate two sour oranges and ten minutes later my lips are still tingling. I am just trying to wile away the hours. My shoes and socks are soaking. I walked in the river in them, then I washed them and hung them out to dry but it rained last night.
Lunch of lentils, rice and cat foot (mashed sardines)
April 1
Left at 6:30 No glasses packed in the dark. We walked back from Rio Luis to Guabal. We left around 6:30 and arrived at 11:30. The return trip, though with a significant increase in elevation was a significantly easier walk. At Ortiga we left the road and took the trail through the jungle which was much more scenic. We grabbed our bags from Timotea and ran to catch the Chival, which returns at 12:00.
2:00 The boys are back in town (Santa Fe). Off to Santiago to get some cash and then back . Charged camera. Glasses. Locals are quite impressed. One person in town has walked from Guabal to Rio Luis, nobody has walked both ways. We are like cult figures. Somebody at the hostel asked if it was possible to make the walked and were told that we had just finished it. They wanted it described. The more difficult the trip the stronger the appeal. Of course this was from a kid who intentionally stung himself with a bullet ant the day before. Bullet ant stings have been described as feeling like “walking barefoot on hot coals with a rusty spike in the foot.”
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