Reemergence

I am writing again for the first time in a few months and yes, I think I want to start to seriously write in this travel/lifestyle blog again. I think in the beginning my writing is going to be a little unpolished since it has been a while since I last wrote. Also, my language skills are pretty mixed up between Spanish and Portuguese. However, I am glad to be back and would like to share with you the many experiences of my last few months (especially those within the last few weeks). And yes, I have a plethora of stories to share. Finally, I want to apologize to those whom I did not inform about my current adventure (until this moment and hey, isn’t that better than nothing?). Anyway, it came quick and I had to make the decision quite swiftly, so either way, I hope you are not bitter and that all of you enjoy hearing more from me and my multinational adventures.

Currently I am in Manaus, Brazil. Surprisingly, I have found it much more enjoyable than I thought. This is due to the large quantity of negative comments I have heard from fellow travelers, travel books (lonely planet, can’t believe they were wrong ;) ha), and even from what I had learned from a lot of my cultural classes in the university. I guess it keeps reinforcing the fact that I should never listen to any of them, anyway, best advice is usually from locals and very seasoned backpackers. What I most liked about Manaus is that you are not expecting much and then you see the beautiful beaches of the Amazon River. The nightlife was great and everyone knows it is a great place to journey further in to explore the jungle. Oh and I almost forgot, its largest tourist attraction is its Teatro Amazonas, a giant opera theatre which is a relic of a time when Manaus was known as the Paris of the tropics, a day that is long gone, although, I was surprised to see the money that moves through this Amazonian hub.

Saturday was my first official day in Brazil. I arrived here by boat from Tabatinga, a trip that endured 3 full days. It was great to be on dry land again, (see videos when I post them). Also, there is no better way to be welcomed to Brazil than to witness the opening night of Carnaval and the Samba parties that go along with it. Frank, a German friend I met on the boat, contacted a girl he had met from here in Manaus. It was a great contact because she brought us to a Samba show and I am so mad I forget my nice brand new Flip video camera my mom and sister gave me for xmas. It was really great, with many different women and men strutting their stuff, the winner was to be crowned queen/king of Manaus Carnaval. The music was great, the energy incredible, and I have never seen people dance like that. It has most definitely excited me knowing that Carnaval will last another 3-4 weeks. I can’t imagine the insanity that will be the final week.

Following this post of Manaus I will be talking a bit on my next post, which will come soon, about the Amazon, my three day boat trip, and the vast quantity of fresh fruit juices available all over the tropics.

The Road Not Taken

Today, I felt like posting one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost. My uncle gave me his book for my Birthday once, and told me to check out this poem. I have been reading a lot of him lately, and this one keeps sticking out. Anyway, I though I would share. This weekend I believe I will post a more personal blog and hope all is well wherever you find yourself on this planet or elsewhere.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Chicken Buses

This entry looks to describe the experience of the chicken bus. For those of you who have experience with chicken buses (even if it is limited) you might as well quit reading because no words can illustrate the adventure (or it might be better to not provoke possible PTSD). For those of you who have not experienced the chicken bus, I will try to put it into words. After having taken my fair share of chicken buses I feel it is necessary to share my journeys, especially after last weekend. I rode a total of 7 chicken buses!

A chicken bus is an American styled school bus that is decked out with the most ridiculous decorations possible. For example: a typical chicken bus usually is painted at least 4 different colors in an exceptionally showy manner. The more colors and the more outrageous the paint job, the more respect it receives (flames across the hood and front panel is very common and highly admired). The unique appearance of the chicken bus does not end with the paint job. Actually, a true chicken bus must also possess a few other important qualities.

To me it seems the second most important characteristic is the ornamentation of the interior; this could mean, stickers, tassles, stuffed animals, flags, trinkets, and photos. Stickers seen frequently say things such as Dios te ama (God loves you), or maybe something supporting a favorite soccer team (FC Barcelona is very common), or even a Gallo one (Guatemala's most famous beer). I also have seen a lot of Tweety Bird ornaments and once a sticker that said USA Eagles, which, I have no idea what that means. Two other essential items are a name placed on the top of the front windshield facing oncoming traffic so that everyone knows the name of the bus (a typical name would be something like Manuelita) and also a metal rack on top to store luggage to allow the maximum capacity of passengers on board.

I guess the words maximum capacity of passengers might not bring the right image to mind. The maximum capacity of the bus means how many people can fit on to the bus, not safely, not comfortably, and not plausibly, but the amount of people that are willing to pay, that is the amount of people that can fit on the bus. Therefore luggage must go on top. Lets just say, I have never seen anyone rejected from getting on a chicken bus, even with every seat filled with three people, the entire aisle full of people standing up to the gear shift and people standing in the stairway. I actually have seen passengers riding on the top of the bus and the ayudante (assistant or person who collects money) hanging out the door. Let's just say you get to know the other passengers really well! So, now that we know the appearance and payload, let's talk about the transportation.

Usually from my experience chicken buses are for travels of a longer distance, by that I mean not just within cities (although it is possible, chicken buses have no limits!). Also, chicken buses don't just have specific destinations; they improvise as they go along, although they do have a beginning and final destination. What I mean by that is: chicken buses stop to pick up and drop off people at any location along the main route. Therefore, there is a lot of stopping and a lot of stopping. This usually makes the duration of the trip on a chicken bus a little longer than a first class bus line and much longer than traveling in your own vehicle.

Why only a little longer than a first class bus line that only stops once? Well, I believe it is because within every chicken bus driver exists a desire to be a Formula-1 racer. All I can say is if you have a problem with motion sickness, either take some good drugs before getting on or don't ride at all. Especially not through the mountains! I don't want to seem like I am overreacting, however, I think I have feared for my life a few occasions while on a chicken bus. First off, the majority of the highway between Xela (where I am living) and everywhere else is very mountainous. This means that there are many curves and there is not much between the road and the great abyss.

Chicken bus drivers don't know the word careful, and they seem to always be trying to live their dream of racing Formula-1. This results in them taking turns as sharp as possible on the windy mountain roads, as well as a competition between them and all other drivers. To them every day is the final race of the Grand Prix and every road in Guatemala is on the circuit. Chicken bus operators' total domination of the highway and fearless manner of taking on oncoming traffic not only has made many foreigners wet their pants (as well as lose their lunch), but it has also made driving chicken buses a dangerous profession. It seems the public opinion on chofers (drivers) in Guatemala is not very positive, and a lot of violent crime is directed toward them. Unfortunately, this is somewhat the result of their aggressive driving techniques, which, probably should never result in violence.

Finally, one may ask, what are the advantages to riding a chicken bus? I would say the chicken buses provide many. First, the price is unbeatable, you can get a 5 hour bus ride for the equivalent of US$5. Second, I think the cultural experience surpasses any other form of transportation here in Guatemala (although I would recommend seeing all types of transportations to get a diverse perception of Guatemalan culture). Thirdly, for you thrill seekers out there, it is most definitely the most exciting way to travel! There is nothing quite like weaving through road construction on the peaks of the Sierra Madres de Chiapas, swerving into oncoming traffic, listening to the air horn of multiple vehicles, being sold peanuts and mangoes, reading Christian propaganda, and having a conversation with the 7 people sharing a seat with you.

Spark from the Fire.

"How strange is the lot of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he sometimes thinks he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people -- first of all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness is wholly dependent, and then for the many, unknown to us, to whose destinies we are bound by the ties of sympathy. A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving..." ~ Albert Einstein

I feel that my previous post only represents a part of what my reason in being here is. To some it may seem to be self-centered. It could appear as if my only reason for traveling is to find inner freedom and truth, without regarding the existence of others. The quote that preludes this post seems to sum up my interpretation of self-improvement, but also supplies an alternative interpretation of identity. Another quote I would like to use (since all my thoughts and ideas will and have always came from others) is: Love thy neighbor as thyself because you are your neighbor. It is an illusion that makes you think that your neighbor is someone other than yourself.

This quote is from Sarvepelli Radhakcance and I believe it sums up my existence. I feel that not only is it important to find inner truth, but in doing so one becomes capable of sharing it with others. Whether we want to believe it or not, our existence is completely dependent on every other person who exists, has existed, and will exist on this planet. Therefore, in my opinion I am not myself but a kaleidoscope of the various people who I have influenced me. I am who I am today thanks to my family, my friends, my teachers, and the people who preceded me and helped construct the world in which I live. Obviously, we do not live in a world without problems and probably never will, however, I believe that we can work together to create a more positive existence not only for today but for those who come along in the future.

My being apart of an organization such as the Colegio Miguel Angel Asturias helps me not only give some of myself to others, but also, helps me grow as a person by learning from those who surround me everyday. Although I am suppose to be the teacher I am very much still a student. Luckily the students still work with me. In the last few months I haven't been able to spend much time in the classroom. Primarily because two weeks of class were cancelled by the government due to swine flu, although I believe there were separate reasons behind this cancellation. Also, before these two weeks we had a medical delegation come and this week were I spent 40 hours giving eye exams and translating for medical professionals. What a week! Even though I wasn't teaching during the last two weeks, I was learning quite a bit. A few individuals with expertise in foreign language education were helping me plan and provided me with different techniques for teaching. This was quite helpful, and consequently, I was much more prepared to start teaching last week.

As for classes, they are going well. I really enjoy spending my whole morning with students between preschool and sixth grade. Having seven classes is a lot, and having somewhere around 100 students is a lot of work (still getting to know the names). Lately, I have been working on teaching the different body parts, and medical stuff (since this month's theme is health). Most of the students have been doing well learning and I am glad to have finally started getting into a routine. Anyway, although my teaching the students english is very important, I think education relates very much to the beginning of this post. I think it is great to be able to work together with the students not only to learn knowledge, but as well to acquire the skill to think more critically about ourselves. This second part I feel will come easier as the days go by and we feel more comfortable in the classroom.

Anyway, sorry I haven't updated for a while but I believe my life has slowed down a bit and I will have more time to spend uploading pictures and sharing more experiences. Hope all is well for those reading, and check the blog again soon!

Why I travel (title idea taken from George Orwell's short essay Why I Write).

Not long since, a strolling Indian went to sell baskets at the house of a well-known lawyer in my neighborhood.  "Do you wish to buy any baskets?" he asked.  "No, we do not want any," was the reply.  "What!" exclaimed the Indian as he went out the gate, "do you mean to starve us?"  Having seen his industrious white neighbors so well off,--that the lawyer had only to weave arguments, and by some magic wealth and standing followed, he had said to himself; I will go into business; I will weave baskets; it is a thing which I can do.  Thinking that when he had made the baskets he would have done his part, and then it would be the white man's to buy them.  He had not discovered that it was necessary for him to make it worth the other's while to buy them, or at least make him think it was so, or to make something else which it would be worth his while to buy.  I too had woven a kind of basket of a delicate texture, but I had not made it worth any one's while to buy them.  Yet not the less, in my case, did I think it worth my while to weave them, and instead of studying how to make it worth men's while to buy my baskets, I studied rather how to avoid the necessity of selling them.  The life which men praise and regard as successful is but one kind.  Why should we exaggerate any one kind at the expense of others.  ~Henry David Thoreau, Walden

I chose to post this quote because I feel it demonstrates the reasoning of many of the drifters and travelers I have met while abroad, as well as those that follow a more unconventional lifestyle, which, I feel traveling generally tends to bring about.  I think it also relates to the title of this post: "Why I travel," and I believe this quote illustrates, at least somewhat, the logic behind my desire to travel.  Although I do find it worth my while to weave the journeys I embark on, they usually are not aimed toward the ordinary reward many seek.  

For me, travel engenders feelings that I usually can not find through other means, and it keeps something inside me alive.  If I were to create my own thesaurus (where all the definitions were defined by my own interpretation), travel would be synonymous with freedom.  Yes that is right, when you flipped open Ryan Rafferty's Pocket Thesaurus and sifted through until you landed on freedom, travel would definitely appear in the list of words beside it.  Well then, I guess it would be important to see what the definition for freedom would be in Ryan Rafferty's Unabriged 1st Edition English Dictionary.  

What does freedom mean?  Well, in the words of my singing-song writing friend Thomas Kivi, "freedom to me is just a word."  I would agree with his statement, that words are only constructions of our own thought process, and in reality contain no true meaning.  However the specific meaning I attach to a word, such as freedom, is significant, at least to me (and maybe this blog??).  In the Oxford American Dictionary, freedom's definition is:  the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.  I would say this is a pretty solid definition, but it does have its complications.  To what degree can we be unhindered or unrestrained?  We can never completely act without the hindrance or restraint of some of the physical limitations that are beyond our control.  I mean, I can't just go speak fluent Mandarin because I feel the desire to do so, I would obviously hit some linguistic obstacles along the way.  And I most definitely could not just fly to the moon to fulfill a sudden impulse; gravity most likely would impede this desire.  I am not even able to bring a 300ml bottle of Coppertone Sunscreen through Chicago O'Hare's Airport Security (sunscreen which is now most likely being used by the TSA manager of Terminal 3 of O'Hare International's Security Check-in on his weekend vacation to visit his retired mother in Ft. Lauderale, Florida.  The same TSA manager who is currently basking in the balmy floridian sun laughing about how he stole the sunscreen shielding his skin from some poor worthless college graduate traveling in Guatemala that will probably suffer from extreme melanoma sometime in the near future).

Anyway, the point of this rambling, long-winded assertion is that freedom is only something one can find within oneself, or within one's own perception of reality.  Therefore exterior limitations are insignificant when one can find freedom within oneself.  An example that comes to mind here is the buddhist monk who found complete liberation while imprisoned in a 5x8 cell being beaten and tortured.  This exemplifies that freedom is not only absolutely subjective, but also, it is experienced individually (although we can experience freedom collectively, it is still only through our own perspective).  When one can truly search their soul, they are able to find truth, identity, and thus, personal freedom.  This is not to say, I would not be capable of doing this anywhere, just as the Buddhist monk, but that I can find this inner freedom much more easily while in moments of solitude.  To be free of the quotidian grind and reflect on it from another angle is something quintessential to my existence.  To take a new perspective on the world, with new eyes, like being born again, provides a very refreshing view of reality, and thus truth.  The world never ceases to amaze me, and when I travel, I continue to wonder and search, as if returning to a youth where I must learn the world all over again. 

This quote by Jostein Gaarder I think is a good way to end this blog:  Sadly it is not only the force of gravity we get used to as we grow up.  The world itself becomes a habit in no time at all.  It seems as if in the process of growing up we lose the ability to wonder about the world.  And in doing so, we lose something central--something philosophers try to restore.  For somewhere inside ourselves, something we once experienced, long before we learned to think the thought.

First Post

I will be putting up a more extensive post tomorrow but I thought for now this would do:

I have arrived in Xela and have been here for about a week.  I really enjoy the lifestyle here and it is definitely an adventure trying to understand and live in a new world.  The school I am teaching at is a very welcoming place and the students I am teaching are something else (I am teaching english to students between preschool and 6th grade).  Anyway, I am posting a poem by Jack Gilbert from a book of poems my sister Jocelyn gave to me as a graduation present and thought it might be relevant to my new existence.

Having reached the beginning, starting toward 

a new ignorance. Places to become,

 secrets to live in, sins to acheive. 

Maybe South America, perhaps a new woman,

 another language to not understand. 

Like setting out on a raft over an ocean 

of life already well lived. 

A two-story failed hotel in the tropics, 

hot silence of noon with the sun 

straying through the shutters. 

Sitting with his poems at a small table, 

everybody asleep. Thinking with pleasure, 

trailing his hand in the river he will 

turn into.