Sunday, October 17, 2010 Flight back home

Flight back home :( I got the usual weekend 2 hours of sleep before catching the bus after an amazing Playa del Carmen week, and an incredible 3 weeks in Mexico. Of course, my flight was delayed 2 hours, so I had to connect in Philadelphia and take 3 hours longer. I made it 3 full weeks until today (in the Cancun airport) without eating a single American food. But I had to get Johnny Rocket's because my choices were that, Margaritaville, Bubba Gump, Domino's, or Baja Fresh. I thought we were in Mexico...? The airport was the worst! Full of fatter than fat Americans, Southern accents, 2nd degree sunburns, whiny girls in KKG bootie shorts, and loud cheers reverberating from the NFL bars. I took some shots of free premium tequilas because I acted like I was going to buy some duty free stuff for 3x the price at Mexican liquor stores. The flight to Philly was like a party, everyone was joking. Then I got to Philly and found out my next flight was delayed 2 hours; nothing like getting to my house at 2:30am. Luckily, there was no Mexican family chillin in my living room since they stole my keys. Mexico was seriously so fun, and I have no clue why Americans don't go! It's so close and cheap (you can take a bus from Tijuana anywhere in the country, it's that easy), with great food, some of the friendliest people in the world, and a great atmosphere of fun, music, color, and vibrancy. An unexpectdly excellent vacation, and a place that I am interested in exploring again in more detail because, why not?

Sunday, October 16, 2010 Cancun, Isla Mujeres

I was pissed because it was all overcast (not even a chance of sun) when online it said it was supposed to be sunny, while further south Playa del Carmen way, I could see it was perfectly sunny. However, better than have Hurricane Paula making things absolutely miserable as also predicted by the weather channel. I took a 30-minute ferry to Isla Mujeres, which is a small touristy island, which is supposed to have some great beaches. Well, it was void of tourists, full of hawkers, all cloudy, and the beaches had sandbags instead of sand. Not impressed to say the least. So I rented a moped, which I absolutely love doing in tropical paradises, and rode through the island. They said go slow; yeah right! I was zooming past normal cars, golf carts, and semi trucks, left and right. I spent the afternoon back on the mainland swimming on Cancun's absolutely beautiful beach. The color of the milky turquoise-blue waters was unbelievable, even despite the cloudy weather. It was warm and I just felt as though I was swimming in a giant Adios Motherfucker (and my insides did, too, from my hangover). There were seriously dozens of resorts, most of which were packaged tours or all-inclusives, which would be really fun with a group of people. The beach was full of fat American couples and drunk Mexican dudes. I was walking on the beach and some middle-aged man comes up to me and says in a Southern accent, "Say, will you go over there and flirt with my daughter?" One of the weirdest thing someone's said to me in a long time... So obviously I obliged, and was joking with her, etc. Too bad she couldn't have been oer fifteen years old! I took a shower in the still-deserted hostel and beelined back to the way better and way more me Playa del Carmen because, I'm sorry, but Cancun just sucks. Not only is it filled with underage Southern frat boys and sorority girls and Midwestern happily-ever-after honeymooners, but it's also expensive and not any better than Vegas. I did happen to have some pretty good tacos at this hole in the wall place, though. Right next to all the 5-star restaurants and Margaritavilles. In Playa del Carmen, I tried my luck at a different hostel, which was even better than the one before, because it had an enormous common courtyard where everyone was having fun and prepartying. I met a Swedish guy who happened to be coming to SF next weekend, so we got to talking and now he's staying over at my house! It was all Aussies and Europeans, which is not surprising because Americans don't travel and are all in Cancun, but exactly what I was looking for. They were really funny, and besides, I can hang out with Americans the other 364 days a year, in America. These Viking-huge Norwegian dudes were loving the fact that I was taking handlepulls, and even loved me even more after I explained the game Taroots to them. We all went out to the Blue Parrot, which was apparently the place to be; it was so much fun. The Australian guy Tim from the other hostel was there, the Israelis were all there, and it was good music and dancing. Playa del Carmen was bumping tonight because there were tons of rich Mexican vacationers for the weekend. I ended up staying out until 5am because that's what everyone here does. For me, Playa del Carmen kicks the shit out of Cancun, despite both being not really Mexico. Americans all miss this European secret, lured (like I was) by Cancun's booze cruises and wet t-shirt contests.

Friday, October 15, 2010 Cozumel, Cancun Nightlife

I caught the expensive but monopolized ferry to Cozumel Island, world-renowned for its clear diving reefs thanks to homeboy Jacques Cousteau and every single cruise that goes to the Western Caribbean. I went to the docks for snorkeling, because even though it was expensive, like I said, it's world-renowned snorkeling/diving country. Oh my god. The water was so unbelievably blue I can't even wrap my head around how it looks that pretty. It was the color of blue raspberry syrup and crystal clear, because the Yucatan is one of the largest barrier reefs in the world. It was so breathtaking, if you didn't catch that from the previous couple sentences. The only thing that would make it better is if there was some topography. Instead, the land is flat and unremarkable in comparison to many other island paradises in the eastern Caribbean. But the water is good enough! We went snorkeling at 2 places reached by boat, further south from the cruise ships. Good diving, as expected. Tons of yellow and blue fish, a barracuda or two, and schools of these bright green fish. It was also really warm. If I were here longer, I would invest in obtaining a Scuba certification. I hung out in the extremely touristy American-focused town for only so long. I was bored so I smoked a Romeo Y Julieta Cuban cigar in one of the cigar bars (like I said, American-focused). The cigar, to be honest, wasn't that impressive and how they are any different from their Dominican counterparts is beyond me. It got cloudy when I got back to Playa del Carmen, so I decided to pack up and hit up Mexico's glitziest resort, the one and only Cancun. I've read the guidebook so many times that I've memorized the line: "So send in the Maya dancers, swashbuckling pirates, and beer-chugging US spring breakers. Cancun can handle it. But can you?" Such a good description. But the best part is, work is paying for my flight home departing from Cancun International Airport. The bus ride was an uneventful hour, and dropped me off in downtown, which was so Mexican you'd never even know this was the Las Vegas of Mexico. Sorry, but this time, I didn't come to Cancun to experience the Mexican flavor. I came for what the guidebook called the "beer chugging US spring breakers". I took the bus to the Hotel Zone, which was absolutely ridiculous, packed with luxury resort after luxury resort for 30km all along the coast. But of course, I was not staying at one of those all alone. Instead, I was staying at what turned out to be one of the weirdest youth hostel's I've ever visited, all alone. Hostel Mayapan: In an abandoned shopping center (escalators and all), and my room was a 24-man dorm which was 100% empty except for me. The only other guest at the entire place was a girl across the mall, so I knocked on her door expecting a fun young party animal. The door opened and it's this lady who reminded me of an unearthed prehistoric hominid; she was blonde and skin the color of Hershey's milk chocolate and the consistency of my wallet. I was so shocked I had no idea what to say so on reflex I asked, "Hi... So I'm staying across the way. Have you been here a while or did you just get here?" Hmmm because I didn't already deduce the answer to that question based on her appearance. She said she didn't have time to talk because she was about to nap. I ambled around the commercial zone, which had an artisan market with Mexico's rudest and most annoying shopkeepers, every American fast food chain, upscale Tex Mex restaurants, travel agencies, and of course, the clubs (Senor Frogs, The Corona Bar, Daddy O, and Coco Bongo). I decided against my better judgment that it was worth it to fork out $60 to go to Mexico's top spot, Coco Bongo. I justified the cost because it included all drinks (what this really means is that beer is not included so they can give you your cocktails mixed with mere drops of well alcohol). The club was actually a great time, though. It was a huge disco with a stage and platforms, from which they interspersed shows and disco dancing. The acts were really entertaining and quite the spectacle. Batman fought the Joker, Beetlejuice and midget Beetlejuice did a duet, there were realistic Moulin Rouge, Guns N Roses, Frank Sinatra, the Beatles, and Lady Gaga impersonators. The best was probably the finale Michael Jackson show. There were tons of acrobatics Cirque du Soleil style. It was so touristy and hopelessly corny of course (they obviously played the requisite Living on a Prayer and Pour Some Sugar On Me), and it was hella WASPy, with all these oldie rock hits. It's weird because half the crowd was Mexican, which I didn't even anticipate when coming to Cancun: But there are actually domestic, non-white, non-fat or jacked tourists in Cancun. It was like 90% couples, and not horny college students (most likely due to the time of year). I was dead tired after the show, which probably wasn't worth the $60.

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Tulum, Playa del Carmen

After getting a full 4 hours of sleep after a crazy night, I tried to go snorkeling, but they weren't running because of murky conditions, so I took a van colectivo to Tulum, down the coast, stopping to drop off maids and dive staff at each of the megaresorts along the way. Tulum was jam packed with the same exact mix of people as Chichen Itza, because the ruins are pretty spectacular. Unfortunately the best viewpoints were closed, so I ha to go down to the beach to take photos. The beach was incredible; crushed coral sands and the most turquoise water imaginable. I can't believe it was real, it was exactly what you see on travel brochures, the epitome of idyllic. I bummed it on the beach along with tons of others, for a couple hours, then took the bus back to Playa del Carmen, where I checked out the beach, which was big and although beautiful, not as pretty as Tulum. Plus there was overzealous development up and down the whole Riviera Maya coastline. I took a long walk, which was nice. People were lazing around, playing volleyball, drinking, surfing waves, and just having a good time. There were definitely demographically designated spots for certain folks. The European part was full of hip, trendy beautiful people listening to trance, the American part was full of fat sunburned Midwestern or Southerner tourists sitting around and playing volleyball, the Mexican part was chill and everyone was laughing and having a good time. Why am I not European, again? It was a great stretch of beautiful coastline, and Cozumel's resorts peeked over the coastline at us. I laid out with the Israelis for a while before getting some dinner and trying to hang out at another hostel's common area before they straight up kicked me out. I prepartied with the Israelis again, but it was awkward because their numbers were dwindling and they were speaking exclusively in Hebrew. I went online but refused to check my Facebook or email. I love being disconnected when I'm on vacation. I ended up drinking in my room with this very well-traveled Aussie named Tim, who was really fun. We went out to basically the same bars as last night, parking ourselves at this Buddha Bar. Our other French roommate Jeff was dancing with these really hideous Mexican girls, and when he disappeared, they kept wanting to dance with me and speak Spanish with me. It was pretty fun, and it was a good mix of Europeans and Mexicans, and (woo-hoo!) no Americans (because they're all in Cancun). But many of the other bars were pretty empty because it's low season, Mexico has a travel advisory because of the drug killings, and the world economy sucks.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010 Chichen Itza

I woke up when we got to Tulum, and of course the one place I wanted to be sunny, it pulls a Seattle on me and is all overcast. I ate 10 carnitas tacos because I was bored, and the guys at the restaurant were cracking up each time I held up more fingers requesting more tacos. I didn't even go to the ruins; instead, I took a 3 hour bus to Chichen Itza, halfway across the Yucatan peninsula. Talk about Disneyland; there must have been about 20 buses parked outside, as well as an equal number of tourist vans. This is a popular daytrip from the Marriotts and Rius of Cancun. Everyone and their mothers want to come here to check off one of the Seven Wonders of the World. I basically ran through the ticket window to the pyramid so I could avoid a majority of the tour groups in my pictures, and because it was clouding over fast, and I wanted the photogenicy (that's definitely not a word) of the sunny skies. It's sad I think about these things, but they make a big difference. I also know which direction is north in an unfamiliar place due to the position of the sun. Anal retentive, or practical? That should be an HSBC ad you would see on airport walkways. The ruins were pretty sweet, though. Huge pyramids and collonated halls, enormous ballcourts, and observatory, and tons of archways. Cakmul offering stones and serpent heads were everywhere, and all of this is situated deep in the heart of the steamy Yucatan jungle. I think 95% of the visitors had a guide, and so I got fear of missing out, so I hired one for only $20 and it was a completely individual tour where he told me about everything Maya, it was great. I can't believe how good at math and astronomy they were. They knew a year was 365 days and 52 weeks, and everything was divisable into 260, which is a sacred number and happens to be the gestation period of humans. And all this was completely independent of the west. But what makes Chichen Itza really special is that it was constructed for astrological purposes. It was built specially so that on solstices, the sun casts a shadow and makes a serpent shape on the side of the pyramid. And that's why it made it to "Wonder of the World" status. We also saved this old lady who was taking a picture of the cenote (sinkhole) and almost fell into it. The mix of tourists was pretty funny. 1% was independent tourists such as myself who took the public bus there, 25% was European honeymooners, 25% were Mexican families, and 49% was Americans on packaged tours from Cancun. There was of course the requisite shirtless group of meatheads from the University of Texas Sigma Chi Spring Break 2010 trip... except that it's Wednesday, October 13. I could seriously just sit and watch tourists all day long. Luckily, I took my best photos early because it startedt to tropical downpour. I took the bus 4 hours to Playa del Carmen on the Caribbean Sea coast. I just walked around with my bag and got some quesadillas at a busy eatery, and asked the guy where a good hostel was, and the best wasn't even in Lonely Planet, it was this little hole in the wall called Maria Sabina. I cleaned up and then hung out at the lounge and it was me and 15 Israelis all speaking Hebrew. They adopted me as one of their own for the night, which was fun. We walked around down Calle 12, the busy street, where outdoor patios were bumping pop, electronica, and reggaetons for tourists and locals alike. We ended up at the Blue Parrot, a busy and fun bar right on the beach. The floor was sand, and the dance floor was busy, and they had swings around the expensive bar. I stayed out until 4am. Take that, USA.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010 Tourists, My traveling style, Palenque

There were all these European tourists at the bus stop. I love having tourists around, but only at hostels or at clubs and bars. Not on transportation, at restaurants, in cities, or at attractions, because clearly I want to hog those all for myself. But I do like having friends to party with and speak English to. I'm such a spoiled brat of a traveler, aren't I. Two things I don't really get about toursits. One, why do they all buy these tacky ugly hippie clothes and wear them every day? Your friends are going to get your Christmas card and be like ¨Since when does Lisa have dreadlocks, wear Aladdin pants, and use a Mexican poncho as a shirt and purse?¨ I guess maybe for women it's a rape deterrent... since no one's getting any dressed like that? Maybe for men they think it'll make them look more like a local and less like a tourist (since the locals all wear Major League Baseball hats, t-shirts in English, and fake Diesel jeans). Okay and number two is, if you've been traveling for a while, why haven't you learned how to pack? I'm here for three weeks and have a tiny backpack, maybe 15 pounds max. All of these people have enormous Mt. Everest status trekking packs, with two pairs of hiking boots hanging off, 3 bottles of wter (that are available for purchase at any street corner), 2 types of hats, another full daypack, and my personal favorite, the guitar case. Heaven forbid you have a buy a t-shirt or some toiletries in Mexico... I swear these people are like under the impression that they are going to space or Antarctica and stores don't exist. But then again, whatever, at least they're traveling all over the world for cheap and having a great time. I'll shut up now. Especially since I think the opposite is worse; when people bring all their luxury goods to third world countries, go on packaged tours with drunken friends and don't interact with any locals, stay at fabulous resorts for hundreds of dollars a night, and get drunk every night at super clubs that play Lady Gaga and Usher. I guess I just fall somewhere in between, but my style is to do everything at 4x the speed of the average human being. I blame work; since I'm working now, I have okay money but no time. Heaven forbid I spend a day just chillin, or spend hours at a restaurant or cafe waiting for my beard to grow. Which is probably why no one wants to travel with me, because I sacrific everything for efficiency and a multitude of experiences. If it means I have to, I'll skip food for the day, take overnight buses to save time and mney for hotel, and I buy absolutely nothing except for super discounted clothes I actually want, maybe postcards, alcohol to preparty with, and local music CDs. And of course, I'll sacrifice anything for good pictures. Like in Iceland when my camera fell into a lava field cavern and I fished it out. Traveling alone, I can say I'm like a 9 out of 10 at self-timer adeptness. It´s gotten to the point where people will watch and ask me if I want them to take the picture, so I have 2 and I end up deleting the one taken by a human being because it's lopsided, I'm too far away, or blocking the main object in the background. I just don't trust people with my camera anymore, sorry! Ok, so today: Bus from hell, so nauseaus, it was an hour late, and I had no chance to get food, and it was a 5 hour drive through the winding Chiapas countryside to Palenque. The drive was really pretty, though, I'll admit. The mountains were really verdant, and little valleys with small wooden or sheet metal farmhouses, indigeneous friendly albeit very impoverished farmers, and corn fields cut into the landscape. Palenque was definitely not in the highlands, and in the jungle. It was hot and humid, and I was sweating almost immediately. I took a little combi van to the archaeological site, which is why people come to Palenque in the first place. The Mayan ruins here were pretty spectacular. It was a whole town and complex, incredibly well-preserved. There were over a dozen temples, including very picturesque and imposing step pyramids, all of which I scaled of course, despite sweating out gallons of water and pounds of salt. I was so sweaty that my face was white with running sunblock and it was stinging my eyes. All I was doing was climbing up the pyramids. I can't even imagine trying to CONSTRUCT these things (don't forget; without the use of the wheel or work animals). After taking a zillion and one pictures, I had to walk through the jungle with waterfalls, to the exit, which was pretty and cool because I saw lizards, snakes, and a coati. I'm pretty sure I'm sunburned, since in SF I never go outside and I never do fake tanning, nor real tanning because it's awful for your skin. I drank 2 liters of water and went to a restaurant and ate an entire chicken for dinner. No exaggeration. I had to go to the bathroom and of course, they have Western style toilets, but you can't flush the toilet paper, and they rarely have a seat. So I don't know what the usual person does, but I've ended up just squatting with my feet on the lip. It's like, at that point, why not just get a cheaper and way more simple squat toilet? I actually prefer them for dirty public restrooms to be honest; there is no contact, and by now I've had lots of practice in Asia and Africa. The bus was pretty much empty except for some Frenchies brave enough to face this Caribbean hurricane. During the night, there were some security checks, including one by border patrol where I had to show my passport. No offense Mexico, but you didn't make my top ten list of countries to which I'd most likely try to illegally immigrate.

Monday, October 11, 2010 Ocosingo village, Tonina ruins

I was really discombobulated this morning when I walked outside the hostel and there was no protesting refugee camp. All I saw was the lone janitor sweeping the clear street. It was like the movie Big. I guess Monday through Friday, rebels gotta work. I waited a little while for this Astrovan to fill up with people before it left for Ocosingo, a Tzetzal village east of San Cristobal de las Casas. I was expecting the ride to be a quick hour max, but it took two hours to go just 20km! It was also the curviest road this side of Lombard Street, and the driver acted like the Astrovan was a Porsche on the Autobon. I felt like puking once I got to the town. Ocosingo was a tiny little town, but the market was the place to see and be seen. Basically all the vendors were Tzetzal women in their traditional colorful blouses, which was awesome. All of them were selling bananas and green oranges, so I bought some bananas. I really wanted to eat at the taquerias, but there were literally no customers in the five that I saw, so no thanks. So I starved instead. I took a small combi van to Tonina, which were a bunch of ruins in the middle of the countryside, which were picturesque. There was a huge temple, and actually the Tonina people commanded a large area of power for the Maya, around 800AD. It was slightly hot out, but also pretty empty, which was nice. I basically had the run of the place, and my pictures never even had any tourists in them. I'm still wearing the same black Lacoste shirt that I've been wearing the whole trip. In my defense, it's cold so I'm not sweating, I have four different ones, and they make great travel shirts because they match everything, are cool, are cheap (since they are fake), and look presentable for photos (clearly the most important reason; seriously, I'm not going to wear a cheap ugly t-shirt for my Christmas cards). I had some quesadillas at a roadside shack where time stood still, dogs were basking in the sun, and there was absolutely no noise besides some grasshoppers flying around. The combi for the return trip never showed up, so even better: I rode in the back of a pickup truck to Ocosingo. It was a pretty fancy pickup truck, with seats, handles, and a cover. We picked up these Mexican army men from the base, who were so classy: every other word was hue, and they were degrading women the entire time. I did the inevitable and hopped into a shared vomitmobile van back to town. I had dinner at this hole in the wall place which I'm almost positive gave me Montezuma's Revenge (I knew it was only a matter of time until it happened...) After that, I went online and basically posted my entire Mexico journal onto this blog. Why not? It´s only $1 per hour for internet here! What else am I going to do between dinner and drink/sleep? Back at the hostel I hung out with the French Canadians and we chatted, watched YouTube videos, and took shots of this "Fandango" anejo spiced rum, which was only the finest quality. For a normal fifth, a bottle was, I kid you not, two US dollars. I gave them each one peso ($0.10) for my shots, which mostly covered the almost more expensive Coca Cola chaser.

Sunday, Octiober 10, 2010 San Juan Chamula village, San Cristobal de las Casas

Today is TEN TEN TEN (10-10-10)! I nearly didn't realize it except that I checked Yahoo news, and that was the top story. Go Yahoo. Breakfast at the hotel was bomb; fresh guava juice, my favorite. I walked around for a while looking for a shared combi to the nearby village of San Juan Chamula, and finally got one, but it was fuming gasoline and I probably lost as many brain cells as at a good frat party. Today was the village's weekly market, which was awesome. The town is the capital of the Tzotzil people, a Mayan group who are poor and fiercely independent. I got there early enough to beat the crowds of tourists who always fuck up markets because they get in the way of commerce, and more importantly, my discreet photos. They do take some of the focus off my Gringo ass, though. There were some amazing photo opps. The weather was sunny, the women were all wearing colorful shiny blouses and had kids in cloth wrapped around their backs, and the men were wearing these woold gorilla suits with white cowboy hats. Since everyone was Mayan, I was super tall and super light skinned in the crowd. The Mayans, as in Guatemala, are poor, oppressed, quiet, and mostly resent having their pictures taken (minus one point for the Mayans). For example, I got into trouble by trying to take a picture of a group of weird-looking guys in white tunics and gorilla vests and gaucho hats. Everyone was speaking Tzotzil around me. People were pushy but reserved, it was weird. They are very suspicious of outsiders. Understandable, because the Spanish, the Mexican army, and Gringo tourists are their interaction with the outside world, all of whom in some way have definitely exploited them. I went around taking covert photos (this is why I don't have a SLR), and then got a tourist ticket to go into the main church. They worship all saints, whose statues were flanking the main area inside, culminating with Saint John the Baptist at the altar, who is their patron saint. But this was far from any ordinary Mexican Catholic Church. The floor was covered in pine needles, it was dark and smoky, and groups of poeple circled around barefoot on the floor, lighting candles for the saints. Families were crying, chanting in native Mayan languages, and offering gifts (such as soda, food, flowers, and LIVE chickens... I saw a girl wring a writhing chicken's neck until it was no longer flapping around). After that completely different experience, I took a walk around the little town, which was boring; just some of the same old houses, corn fields, and women and kids who shooed me away just for looking at them. I took the bus back to my base, San Cristobal de las Casas, and had lunch (ten tacos for $5) at a busy taqueria, before checking out the big market, where I felt a little less awkward taking photos. I walked through the nice pedestrian walking streets filled with rich Chiapans enjoying their Sunday afternoon. I walked up to two churches on different hills, San Cristobal and Virgin of Guadalupe, which both had pretty good views of the city. I met some Spanish people who were traveling in a van around the world over the course of ten years. Is that supposed to be some feat? Because I'm pretty sure Magellan did that 500 years ago in a motorless sailboat without a map, and it only took him a year. Some kids came up to me asking for money for a school thing, and one kid accidentally spit on me, so I pretended to get pissed so he went away. The other one was persistent, but then I figured out they hate pictures so I'd just point my camera their way and they left me alone. Gotta always see the positives! I checked the weather and there is a hurricane forming in Honduras heading straight for the Yucatan, where I'm suppposed to be in a couple days. Great, just great.

Sunday, October 9, 2010 Cañon del Sumidero

I woke up in the middle of the night on the bus and realized we were at a federal military checkpoint, surrounded by troops. Not that that was weird or anything. But what was weird is that there was a big sign in English only, explaining that the Federal Government is on an anti-drug campaign, which is the reason for the stop. But why only in English? a) Because Gringos are the only ones who freak out and need an explanation for a military checkpoint, or b) because Gringos are the only ones smuggling drugs. The bus arrived in Chiapas's big city, Tuxtla Gutierrez (try saying that five times fast), so I dropped off my bag and took a shared VW bus combi to some place called Cinco de Mayo, then took another combi to the little colonial town of Chiapa del Corzo, on some major river. It was pretty hot out and the sun was super strong. Tuxtla was a ho-hum town, whereas Chiapa del Corzo was nice, quaint, and colonial. Correspondingly, there were tons of restaurants and souvenir shops selling the same exact junky handicrafts. One thing that I couldn't pass up, however, was a coconut in which they add sugar, lime, and vodka to the juice, which was pretty pimp. I filed onto the lancha boat, with 15 other Mexican tourists, and the boat sped off down the river. The canyon was really high and spectacular. We had to plow through some islands of trash, which somewhat took away from the magic of the picturesque Cañon del Sumidero and waterfalls. We saw some pelicans, vultures, and big crocodiles. I caught the bus back to whatever Cinco de Mayo and had some bomb carne asada, beef fat, and tripe tacos. To be honest, the beef fat wa pretty good. Tripe, however... I slept on the bus to San Cristobal de las Casas; you guessed it: another colonial town, basically the same as Oaxaca but in Chiapas state, which is poorer and very indigeneous Mayan. I took a cab from the bus station to the Hosteling International Hostel, whose entrance was on a street on which there has been a continuous protest for the last several YEARS, where basically the Zapatistas have erected tents and tarps to demonstrate for self-determination for indigenous groups who have been oppressed since the Spanish conquest. But when I checked in, I was literally the sole guest. Ironically, the reason I chose this hostel was because I thought it would be the most social. Instead, it was deserted and just plain depressing. I threatened to check out after I realized there was only mildly heated water, and four employees all got up, checked my room, checked the boiler, checked another room, and they gave me my own room for the dorm price. But I was so bored that I went to another hostel to make friends, and ended up sitting with some Quebecois guys for a while, who were kind of different. One was a stoner who worked for 2 years in the Montreal youth hostel, and the other was someone who didn't mind that the boy on the bus next to him tried to steal his luggage while he was sleeping, and he understood my English but would respond only in Spanish, but the accent was so French that I could barely understand him. That was basically my Saturday night out. I went to a club and ordered a michelada (Corona mixed with spicy sauce), but all the people were locals, all with their groups of friends, so I felt awkward and just went back to my empty hostel via the refugee camp outside.

Friday, October 8, 2010 Oaxaca Villages

Today was a carbon-copy of yesterday. I took a shared taxi to Ocotlan for their Friday market, which took a little longer to heat up, but once it did, it was bigger than the one yesterday at Zaachila. My basis is that they had more turkeys at the one today. I had some more goat tacos and was serenaded by a pretty good mariachi band. After that, I came back to Oaxaca town. Luckily Oaxaca is smack-dab in the middle of all these little villages, because it takes over an hour to travel to each one, but then again, it only costs about $1 each way. I took a bus from the second class bus station, which was pretty funny. The first class one is brand new, with new bilingual signage, ample nice seating areas, well-paved driveways, and convenience stores and tourist information with computers. The second class one, on the other hand, has a huge pile of trash taking up a quarter of the lot, which is DIRT and has potholes, the terminal is made of wood, and there is no glass, screens, signs other than ones painted onto the wall back in 1990, or even lights. I took the most rickety school bus to Mitla, the furthest east village in the valley. I walked through the tiny town (on siesta) to the ruins, which were small and not that impressive. Instead, I walked up into the rural hills even above where anyone lived, so it was deserted. I walked through some grass fields filled with grasshoppers, in search of good vantage points. I was a little freaked out because there could be snakes, and the fact that I saw eagles flying overhead didn't put me at ease (remember, the Mexican flag has an eagle with a snake in it's beak). I took an equally rickety bus back to Oaxaca, and went online and DUN, DUN, DUN... checked my work email (nothing notable, thank goodness) and burned my pictures onto DVD just in case my camera gets stolen, etc., which would be unlikely because there's rarely a time when it's unattached to my wrist. I had the same amazing carne asada barbecue dinner again, and took a cab to the bus station for my 10pm bus east to Tuxtla Gutierrez.

Thursday, October 7, 2010 Oaxaca Villages

I walked to the taxi stand and caught one to Zaachila, where Lonely Planet claimed, again, that there was a weekly market. But this time they were actually right! The market was great; awesome fruit and veggie displays, a shitload of peanuts (which are native to Mexico), loads of men in cowboy hats and short women in huipil dresses and pigtails, and my favorite, a turkey trading spot where there were turkeys everywhere and women holding them up and weighing them. This is Precolombian Mexico at its best... amazing! The only shitty part is it's kind of rude to take pictures, so obviously I just had to basically sneak them. I had two breakfasts; one was goat stwew and tacos, and the other was a huge mole enchilada dish. I made friends with some Mexicans who live in New Jersey and then an accountant who said he could move to the US if he wanted to , but why? His family and friends are here, living is cheap, and the weather's great. I took a shared cab back and then caught another shared taxi to the nearby town of El Tule. The highlight of that town is that it's claimed to have the biggest tree in the world. It was pretty freaking big, and is also claimed to be THOUSANDS of years old. I walked around and got bored so I took a detour, walking down rural dirt roads, not seeing much except for country houses, corn fields, wild dogs, and some kids. I took a taxi back again, and then got into a tourist van to Unesco site Monte Alban, which was, well, a mountain, with a bunch of Precolombian ruins, which were pretty impressive because they were big and overlooked the entire Oaxaca valley. I took a bunch of photos, including self-timers galore (surprise, surprise). Yesterday I saw this part of the market I really wanted to eat at, where the veggie guys give you onions, you go over to the carne asada guys, who barbecue whatever meat you want with the onions, then you go to the tortilla guys and get some tortillas, then finally you sit back down and the veggie guys and they give you pico de gallo, runny (aka the best kind) guacamole, cucumbers, cilantro, onions, and you have yourself the best food of your whole trip. It's like the Mexican version of BBQ, which are my favorite types of food: Indian, Vietnamese, Korean, Filipino, now Mexican. I was still kind of sick, so I didn't go out.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010 Oaxaca City

I got into Oaxaca via overnight bus at 6am, and even though I slept the whole ride, I was exhausted, so I took a cab straight to a Lonely Planet hotel and slept for 2 more hours. When I woke up, I was sick with a cold, which sucks. Oh well, it happens, and plus it's not like a cold is going to stop me from doing anything I want to do. Tyler Rapp's itinerary does not accomodate sickness or injury. I walked to the bus station, which was in a really dusty, industrial, ugly part of town. I caught a shared taxi to the town of San Pablo Etla for their Wednesday market day. The cab driver kept driving around and asking people about this so-called market, and no one had any idea of any such thing; somehow Lonely Planet knew of one that no locals did? So I just took the cab back to town, and decided to spend the day exploring the city, which was supposed to be very cultural and therefore touristy and indigenous, but I didn't really agree. I ate at a sizeable indoor market, a caldo beef stew and the Macho Oaxaca Plate, which was a slab of beef, cheese, 2 enchiladas, and 2 tamales, all covered in Oaxaca's famous mole sauce. Mole is supposed to be really good; I just find it's too sweet and tastes like chocolate, it reminds me of Persian fesenjoon (I realize that probably won't help anyone reading this relate it). It was cloudy and drab outside, just like my health. The center was colonial and honestly I'm kind of over these colonial towns by now; I've seen like one every day for the past week and I like watching people, not 17th century European buildings. There was of course a central plaza, with music, couples making out, guys selling balloons and toys, and Indian women selling souvenirs. I had to buy some chapulines (grasshoppers), which actually weren't that bad. I was so tired so I took a nap at the hotel and then went back out, hoping the town would get more interesting the second time around... nope. I just had a chile de nogada (special for the 200th Anniversary of Mexico) for dinner and came back and did what I love doing best when traveling; planning a flexible itinerary of all the stuff I want to do. I decided to forego the beaches of Oaxaca (Puerto Escondidto, Puerto Angel/Zipolite, Huatulco) because you can't even swim there because of the undertoe, I've already been to the Mexican Pacific at Puerto Vallarta, from what I've seen the Caribbean waters looks prettier, and I'm already spending like a week in the Yucatan beaches.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010 Western Mexico City

What didn´t I do today? I beelined to the National Palace on the Zocalo, which is a must-see of Mexico City (and it´s free!). You walkin in (after 9-11 level security checks), and immediately see a huge plaza surrounded by the palace buildings, and up the stairs are the biggest and busiest Diego Rivera murals you´ve ever seen, including his most famous, which basially pictorilly recounts Mexico´s entire history, from Precolombian roots to the brutal Spanish conquest to Independence and the Revolution, to Industrialization and Communism and of course his unibrowed lover, Frida Kahlo. His murals wrap all around the second floor, which is a museum of everything Mexico in history, which was really well done, much like our Smithsonian Institution. After the museum, you walk through a room which would be the equivalent of our Congress room (which has a pyramid with an eye on the ceiling... WTF is with that, anyways?) Then you go into the very lavish state rooms for the leaders, with chandeliers, portraits of each president, and old furniture. After the palace, I got lost in the Centro Historico, which was awesome because it was like a street market, but on every sidewaolk, with literally everything you´d want. The police stopped me when I tried to go north into this one area that I guess I "really shouldn´t be in". Basically the black market. I can handle the illegal Canal Street street market in NYC with burned DVDs and fake Gucci purses, but the black market in Mexico City, now that takes thug life to a whole different level. I stopped to eat at the busiest street food places, for some good tacos guisados. Then I found my way through the vast jewelry district to the financial district, which was like any US downtown except 75% men. I ascended up the tallest building south of the border, the Torre Latinoamerica. The views up top of the city were amazing. As if it hadn´t hit you before, you really got a feeling for how enormous this place really is, since the mountaints surrounding the city were hardly even visible they were so far away. It was urbanization on a massive scale. I walked in the nearby park before heading over to Plaza Merced, a huge indoor market, which had about 100 of each type of food vendor; chilies, tomatoes, onions, meats, garnishes, cheese, nuts, mole, fruits, you get the picture. I took a bunch of photo and video and then sat down at some places, but got impatient because when I asked what was good, what their specialty was, or just give me something good, they wouldn´t give me an answer and wouldn´t serve me, so I just went to this mediocre huarache place instead. Mexicans for some reason love huaraches, I don´t really understand the attraction. I took the (busy, even at midday) Metro to Parque Chapultepec, the Central Park, National Mall, Griffith Park, Millenium Park of Mexico City. It had a bunch of vendors along the main walking paths. There was a nice lake with paddleboats. I went to the Anthropological museum, expecting to only pend an hour or so, and ended up spending three and closing down the place! Honestly one of the best museums I´ve even been to. There were priceless Mesoamerican artifacts from all over the country, great information, recreations of typical cultural displays for each Mexican region, and outdoor parks. I took tons of pictures. the highlights were huge temple re-creations, a ball game court outside, the famous Aztec stone circle thing that´s all over tshirts, wallets, blankets, etc, colossal Olmec stone head, Cakmul statues, and Mayan wall paintings and carvings. It was kind of funny; the entrance was explaining that the inhabitants of the Americas came over via the land bridge from Asia and that hominids evolved in Africa. Weird, for a country that is 95% hardcore Catholic. After the museum closed, I had dinner at a bus stop which catered to businessmen about to take their buses home, so there was a crasily busy taco shop with had the best tacos with fries in them... Mmmm. I took a walk through Polanco, the leafiest area in Mexico City (the Beverly Hills of Mexico), with BMW´s driving around, new yogurt places, trendy terrace cafes, and designer boutiques. The Ferragamo store was having some international fashion event outside, so I went up to the promoters and asked if I could have my picture taken and they said "Of course!" while I was expecting more of a "Hell no" or equivalent. So I posed in my North Face fleece and Rainbow sandals on the red carpet, and not only did they take pictures with my camera, but the official photographer also took my photo. This really happened? I had my second dinner and had a beer in one of the bars. I took the Metro to the Eastern Bus Station before hopping on the overnight bus to Oaxaca city. After walking miles on end today, I slept like a baby. Mexico City = Amazing = Success = I will return.

Monday, October 4, 2010 Teotihuacan ruins

I woke up and took a shower. When I got out, you freaking guessed it. Hector was waiting for me and followed me to my locker to change and pounced on me again. I forcefully had to push him away and jerk my arm out of his grasp. He was like¨You know you like me, why do you push me away?¨ Umm, maybe because you´re clearly fucking nuts. I was actually sincerely worried he would steal something or somehow sabotage me, and I´m pretty sure he stole my keys to my SF apartment (why, I don´t know...) Yeah, definitely NOT going to Facebook you. Luckily he was checking out today. I got picked up for my Teotihuacan tour and the first stop was an ancient Aztec site, which was later turned into a Catholic Spanish cathedral using all the stones of the Aztec buildings, and then later was the site of the nonviolent student protest in 1968 where President Ordaz ordered snipers to kill all the students in the square. 2 days ago was the anniversary and there was a big memorial. The next stop was the Church of the Virgin Guadalupe, situated in an enormous bustling plaza in the northern suburbs where Catholics from all over Mexico come to worship their holiest figure, the Virgin, wholse picture is everywhere in Mexico (and thus the SW USA). Her figure is a Virgin with a starred cloak with sun rays, and standing on a moon (which are all elemental Aztec symbols because in Mexico, Catholicism has melded with many other indigeneous traditions). The reason she´s so ubiquitous is that Mexicans make fun of many things, but they would never dare disgrace this figure, so if there is a crime-ridden area, people just put up a Virgin of Guadalupe altars, which takes care of the problem. The church was an ugly 1970´s building with the Virgin´s image and a Mexican flag. Across the plaza was the Catholic Cathedral, which was a typical beautiful colonial cathedral. But when you got inside, it was completely sloped, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It was literally like walking uphill to the altar. That´s what you get for building a city on a muddy lakebed. Perched atop a hill away from the plaza was the tiny chapel that where the indigeneous people were relegated to pray because God forbid they were allowed to worship with the Spaniards. Oh, and by the way, the way the Spaniards justified colonization of the Americas (and extermination of 80% of the indigeneous population) and holding the inquisition to expel all Muslims and Jews, was for the good of Catholicism. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why organized religion blows. I walked up the hill and was winded, for one of three reasons. a) I´m out of shape, b) Mexico City is at a very high altitude, c) Mexico City has for decades consistently ranked in the top 10 most polluted cities until China started to burn coal for energy and now they monopolize like 6 of 10 spots. After that, the van took us out of Mexico City basin, and all you could see was the same ugly gray cubical concrete houses reaching far into every nook and cranny in the city. It´s like LA but 8x the scale. And if LA, New York, Washington DC, and Chicago were all combined into one urban area. We made the requisite souvenir workshop stop at a place right outside the park gates, where the lady showed us how they make basically everything out of the maguey cactus plant that grows to like 10 feet tall, until it flowers (when it dies), so the Aztecs always killed the flower. From the plant, they got fiber to make clothes, sewing needles, waxy paper, alcohol (mezcal), and a sweet nectar. Pretty cool and resourceful. Then we saw all the different types of volcanic obsidian found in this region, which was used to make really beautiful statues and masks. Thank God there was a buffet lunch, which was really quite good and had an amazing variety. I made friends with some Spaniards. Don´t get me wrong, I love Spanish people and am dying to go to Spain. I just am curious as to why Spaniards come to Latin America (outside maybe Argentina, where everyone is European). Like hi, what did our ancestors do to this place? Well, they came on boats and introduced diseases that killed the majority of your population and those who survived were subjected to our rule where you weren´t even allowed to be in the same place in order to worship the same god, but we´ll still outlaw your heathenistic religious practices and make you convert and learn our language, oh and take all your land except the worst pieces, we´ll institutionalize racism so that none of you will hold positions of power or wealth in your own homeland, we´ll rape mane of your women and kill your beloved leaders after promising to set them free after unfathomable ransoms, make you pay taxes to fund our war effort in Europe again Napoleon. I´m sorry but if I were Mexican, I don´t really think I´d be eager to make any Spanish friends. I guess the US did take upper California (which is a pretty awesome piece of land) and Texas (which is well...bigger I guess? I got nothing) from you, which sucks. But those areas are almost 40% Mexican now, anyways. Ok so enough with my ranting. The park itself was awesome. There were several Aztec temples before the big daddy, the Temple of the Sun, followed by the small daddy, Temple of the Moon. These structures are actually incredibly impressive. Not only are they huge and rise out of the land like alien pyramids, they were built by the Mesoamericans (who didn´t have either wheels or work animals) in a highly seismic area without notable restoration efforts. Want to make a lot of money? Start a chiropractic practice back in the day right outside the temple complex. The pyramids and city is shrouded in mystery, and during the Spanish conquest Teotihuacan was deserted, which is (Thank God) why it was not destroyed. I climbed all of them sideways like asnake, really fast, and took tons of pictures (Christmas Card!) It was awesome contemplating the history of this rich land. On the path out, there was a clay dildo (probably circa 800AD) lying on the road, as a sweet farewell. Back in DF, I had a Corona forty o the patio and made friends with a girl from Brazil who was pretty cool and since she was from Brazil, obviously beautiful.

Sunday, October 3, 2010 South Mexico City, Lucha libre, Psycho hostel

I was in a random Mexico City neighborhood after a crazy night out and not sleeping. Just your typical Saturday night. The best part is, I was going back to the hostel and people were getting all ready to go to church. I walked into my room and was taking my contacts out and this guy was standing in the doorway asking me questions about myself and my night, etc. Apparently his name´s Hector and he´s from Venezuela, and he seems to be extremely wealthy in his country because he´s studying orthodontics and has been to the US multiple times. I hadn´t even taken out the left contact when all of a sudden he grabs me and sticks his tongue down my throat on the spot. After I fiercely pulled away and the initial shock settled, all I could say was that I had to go. Of course, since he´s in the same fucking room as me, there was nowhere TO GO except into the bathroom. And as if it couldn´t get any more awkward, he kept knocking on the bathroom door wanting to come in! Your typical Saturday night followed by your typical Sunday morning. I had a 10 minute shitty breakfast of 100% glucose foods and saw Hector, so I left and took the Metro to Coyoacan and walked through the leafy neighborhood to the house in which Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo used to live, now a museum with lots of Frida´s paintings, but unfortunately not her most famous ones. Those were probably stolen by the British and housed in the British Museum, like every other artifact of value from antiquity. I took a detour and went to this park with mobs of runners and a really upscale mall, greeted by friendly guards armed with Uzi´s. Yay. The mall was nicer than we have in the US. I went to the Mexicana Airlines office and asked how much a one-way ticket to Cuba would be. Oh wait, Mexicana has cash flow issues so they suspended literally all flights. I´m no CEO, but just an idea; I don´t think that will solve your cash flow issues. I took the Metro to what I thought was a transfer station, but it was acftually an inaccurate map and no line actually existed to tranfer. I was just about to name Mexico City´s as my second favorite in the world (to NYC, simply for the fact that it´s 24 hours); it´s cheap (as in $0.25 per ride), everyone takes it rich and poor old and young crazy and educated, it´s kinda fun (there are always people selling junk like kite-birds, or playing music), it goes everywhere of interest, and I´ve never waited more than 5 minutes for a train (the best part). I stumbled upon this super busy taqueria, which was a little differnt because they had tons of meat options, plus toppings that included beans, cactus, potatoes, guacamole, pico de gallo, cucumbers, onions, and lime. It was probably the best taco stand I´ve ever eaten a. Hence why I ended up ordering literally 8 tacos (while 3 tacos would feed a normal human). I think I´m killing my taste cells slowly but surely being in Mexico; everything is super spicy and I don´t even dare ask for the red sauce or chilies. Worth it; the food thus far has been exquisite, and much different from the fatty Tex Mex burritoes and Chimichangas found in ¨Authentic" fancy Mexican restaurants in the US. I took the Metro all the way to the southernmost part of the city, Xochimilco (clearly a Nahuatl word), and walked to these docks on the canals, a reminder that the site of Mexico City used to be an island in the middle of a volcanic lake. I didn´t really haggle but hired a boat myself and had a guy paddle me through the canals, which seemed like a lot of fun if you had a group of people. There were party boats playing music and serving tequila, family picnics, mariachi bands, and women selling beers and food. The boats were like gondolas. After that, I stumbled upon a market (I love markets), so I ambled through and saw a huge crowd eating these black bean-filled huaraches topped with cheese and guacamole so I had to get one. I´ve given up actively searching out restaurants using Lonely Planet. They always cater to tourists, they´re always overpriced, and are sit down and take WAY too long for my tapeworm-status appetite. They´re never as good as random hole in the wall local places, at least in a place like Mexico, which is all about the local and not about the Subways, McDonalds, Starbucks, and Burger Kings. And fingers crossed, if locals are eating it, hopefully no Montezuma´s Revenge, because little known fact, Mexicans also have to drink bottled water. I hopped on the Metro back to the hostel, took a power nap, and met up with this group of Spaniards to go to a lucha libre pro wrestling match in a nearby arena, which was amazing. It´s like our WWF, but better. The crowd goes crazy, and it was cracking me up because of how fake it is. The opening act was these women fighting one another, which might have been even better than the guys. The guys were really good, flipping all over the place, jumping in and out of the ring into the stands, etc. There were several times where the stunts were so dangerous that I was cringing that they weren´t going to break their necks. They obviously had the good guys vs. the bad guys. And an exclusive was a super flamboyant guy who kept trying to kiss the competitors, and a super Chinese team. There was tons of beer, cheering, and ¨Chinga Tu Madre¨ chants. The only bad part was no photos allowed. After that I came back and wrote my journal, and there is literally no one in this hostel I´ve decided. Kind of sad; I need social interaction. Of course, at that moment, Hector from Venezuela shows up and plops down at my table. I wanted to get out of there and go see the Plaza de los Mariachis, so I told him I was going and got up to leave, and he goes ¨So how do we get there?¨ Oh great. So of course he tags along and comments that I walk really fast and that he´s scared of taking the Metro because there are "ugly" people. I was so pissed since this just stems from ignorance, considering he has never taken ANY Metro before because he thinks it´s dangerous. I didn´t even want you to come, dude, and now you´re complaining?! We got out at the station and he insisted on asking every bypasser where the plaza was. Everyone told us the walk was dangerous, which made him so scared that he shut up, finally. The plaza was funny, basically people brought coolers and set up portable tequila-mezcal bars. Mariachi bands were all over, just kind of hanging out. Most were Norteño style, with ugly half crocodile-skin, half bright polyester baby blue suits, with accordians. It was really cold out and I was tired so I left. Hector kept asking if I would sleep with him in the room. Umm, no, bro. Then he kept pulling me into dark corners in the hostel to try and make out with me and I was pissed and thought I made it quite clear.

Saturday, October 2, 2010 Morelia, Mexico City nightlife

I had to wake up before the asscrack of dawn to catch the bus to Morelia, the capital of Michoacan state. I was there by 11am, and it really pissed me off because there was an overflow of free taxis, but they weren´t allowed to take me because I didn´t retain my bus ticket. So you can sit in the back of a truck but you can´t pay a taxi from the bus station to the city center. So I had to take a bus, which had a section "reservado por la gente fina y educada" = "Reserved for the beautiful and educated people". Too bad for the cripples, pregnant women, and elderly; Mexico is on a mission to protect their high-value economic resources. That would be pretty sweet if the US instituted that policy, except that no beautiful and educated people take the bus. Morelia was a big colonial town, in the colonial highlands, surrounded by your typical malls, car dealerships, auto shops, food wholesalers, and machinery shops. I started out at the big market, selling pretty much everything from shoes to DVD´s to apples to cow´s heads. I walked around the main plaza and the cathedrals and little cafes filled with rich Michoacanans eating their Saturday brunch. Lonely Planet loves Morelia; to me, it was just okay. I had gazpacho, a regional treat consisting of cut up fruit, but ruined because they put cheese and hot sauce on it. I really tried to give it a chance, but it´s just really exactly like it sounds. I walked around some more and had 3 lunches at a deserted mall. I made friends with the funny owners of this restaurant, which had a bunch of different and good foods. I headed over to the bus station after getting bored of the monotony of colonial town, plaza, restaurant, market. I caught the bus to the one and only Mexico City, el Gran Tenochtitlan! I was so excited to get into the biggest city in North America, how exciting! Driving into the city was unreal; urban sprawl for miles and miles, and not even in the Lake Basin yet. Lights for as far as you could see (through the haze), climbing up mountains in every direction. That´s what happens when 21 million people co-habitate one urban area, arguably the world´s most populated urban area depending on how good the Census is and how it is measured. I was dropped off at the North bus station, which was freaking enormous. Oh, don´t worry, it´s just one of FOUR main bus terminals. It was bigger than many international airports! I had the option of getting dropped at the Western terminal, but honestly it kind of weirded me out because the station was at the "Observatory". Hmmm, an observatory in Mexico City, winner of the most polluted cities award for the past 40 years and in a oversprawled metropolis where streetlights never end? The bus station had tons of restaurants and even more bus companies. If you wanted, they could even book you a ticket from here to CHICAGO. I can´t imagine they get many return tickets? The station was conveniently adjoined to the Metro subway system, which I took to the Zocalo area. The Metro was great! So easy to use, even though it was in Spanish. Every station even had a cartoon icon, and tons of people take it at all hours, and it goes literally everywhere you´d need to go in Mexico City. It´s not dirty, and it´s well surveilled, as well. I got to the deserted Zocalo, the main square in the city and therefore the entire country. It was dirty because today there was a memorial for the students who were massacred on 10-2-1968 by the Mexican army before the Olympic Games. I checked into the Catedral Hostal, which was pretty busy (a change). I changed and made a beeline to the the club zone. Lots of Lady Gaga, Enrique Iglesias, Daddy Yankee, Pitbull, which was funny because no one knew the exact English words they were syncing. I went bar hopping to a bunch of places, drinking muchas cervezas. Everyone thought I was a Mexican when they saw me. I guess that comes in handy traveling through Mexico so I don´t look so much like a gringo, and since I speak broken Spanish, it works, enough.

Friday, October 1, 2010 San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato city

I´m on VACATION! And I FINALLY got to explore the town of San Miguel de Allende, where I´ve been for the past 3 days. I took full advantage of the hotel shower and breakfast. I unfortunately had to pay $70 to ship my shitty laptop and work stuff to the US because I couldn´t be bothered to carry it in my suitcase for 2 weeks. I almost hope it doesn´t make it there; it sounds like it´s making coffee when I turn it on, and the battery lasts 12 minutes without using Wi-Fi. I also had to get malaria pills, which was annoying because 15 days prior to today, the Mexican government enacted a law that you need a prescription for drugs; I thought this was MEXICO, not Canada. So I took care of this by having the on-site doctor at the mushroom farm write me a malaria prescription... Perfect! I walked around the pedestrian-friendly town, to a bunch of the colonial squares and the little markets. Everyone was super friendly, and I really liked the town; good weather, cheap, good food, lots of American expat retirees, and it´s beautiful (colonial buildings on hilly terrain with cobblestone streets, it´s Unesco). There was some international conference going on, so there were armed Federales on nearly every corner, which was scary; however, preferrable to armed druglords on nearly every corner. I, of course, took a picture with them. After a couple of hours, I took a cab to the bus station and hopped on a bus to the city of Guanajuato, which is a college town in a little ravine setting which is also a Unesco World Heritage site for its colonial center. I checked into a hostel where I was literally the only guest, so I had a 10-bunk dorm room all to my self, including the bathroom. I spent the afternoon walking around; I swear, here, every corner you turn, there is another cute little plaza. I took the cable car up ot the hill overlooking town, which offered a really nice view of the colorful cubical town. I walked around some more, up and down the busy streets. I stopped in at a random but super busy taqueria. This vacation, I´m only eating at really busy places because a) that means the food is good, and b) that means the food´s constantly turning over, so it must be fresh. I´ve had too many bad experiences in the past with Montezuma´s Revenge, Shaka Zulu´s Revenge, Gandhi´s Revenge, Atahualpa´s Revenge, Ramsses´ Revenge, Hammurabi´s Revenge, Haile Selassie´s Revenge, to mess with unpurified water. That being said, I had to go back to the room because I felt really sick, I´m pretty sure because of the malaria pills; fucking Mexican chloroquine. It says I don´t really need them unless I´ll be in rural parts of Oaxaca and Chiapas, and I don´t trust myself to not be in rural Oaxaca and Chiapas. It´s like strong DEET; it´ll give your kids birth defects and cause you blindness, but at least you won´t get an itchy mosquito bite. Worth it, right? I went to the house in which Diego Rivera grew up, which was a super nice house with a courtyard and multiple stories; it figures why he could just spend his time painting, instead of selling gum and shining shoes. I walked around the main square, where there was a pub crawl led by these Swiss-Guard-looking musicians. I went into some cantinas, which was awkward because everyone was a local and with their group of friends. It took forever for this club to get going; like 1am before anyone showed up. Again, everyone was at their own tables getting bottle service and everyone was a local, so it was too awkward and I went home.

Thursday, September 30, 2010 Inventory Observation Day

Today is basically the reason I´m here; to count the inventory in the cannery. And so I can travel all over Mexico and the company can reimburse my flights, of which the return departs from Cancun... It´s business! Of course, they didn´t have anything ready until 4pm, so I was bored and watched them count their entire inventory of hay, which was all over the huge grounds, and literally amounted to over a MILLION dollars worth. The count was fine, no corrections. But I didn´t get home until 7, after which I didn´t even get to go out as planned because I had to wrap up other jobs. Welcome to seniordom.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010 Mushrooms Day 2, Queretaro

Second day at the client. I was zipping through my work, given that this is my third mushroom inventory and eleventh inventory observation total. They gave me a full tour of the entire premises, basically because for fun because I told them I wasn´t auditing the farm part. But this is always the best part; chicken manure, moldy hay, steaming mushroom growing rooms, etc. The controller offered to take me after work to the nearby colonial town of Queretaro. We drove in his car past lots of countryside houses made of concrete, as with all buildings in the non first world. The town was really nice; the outskirts were all upscale shopping malls, Walmart, Sams Club, Burger King, Volkswagen, while the center was full of nice plazas, souvenir shops, and churches. I feel like they just didn´t have anything for the natives to do, so the Spaniards made them build way too many opulent cathedrals. Oh, and all the public parks in Queretaro are equipped with free Wi-Fi, while the US still doesn´t have free Wi-Fi on most public university campuses; wtf. We walked around the safe, family-friendly squares and got some ice cream. On the ride back, he gave me a 101 on Mexico. Here´s what I learned: Mexicans are family people. It´s an extremely diverse country geographically and culturally and ethnically, but all Mexicans are proud to be Mexican and identify as such. The biggest problem facing the country is not drugs, but education by far. The poorest state is Chiapas in the South. Outside the border cities, Mexicans aren´t looking to move to the United States. President Calderon´s solution to the drug problem is to "clean up the house" aka kill everyone involved (which is why we drove through several police barricades with everyone holding machine guns, but went right through because we both had glasses on). Mexicans all have cell phones and credit cards. Most people live in cities nowadays but the Walmarts are slow to penetrate because it is a small-scale mom and pop economy. The reason their flag is what it is, is because the Aztec leader Tenoch was looking for the promised land and he said that God told him that when he saw an eagle with a snake in its beak that´s where he should settle. Well, him and 20 million other people agree, because that´s the site of modern-day Mexico City and the Jewel on the Spanish crown of their colonial empire in the Americas.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010 Day 1 of Mushroom Farm

I had breakfast in the boutique hotel in San Miguel de Allende, and then showed a cab driver the address to the mushroom plant, and he had no idea where it was. So he called and then he was like ¨Ohhh! The mushroom factory, of course, everyone knows that!" I showed up and had to give ID to the guard, and I was greeted by the Controller, who lives in Mexico City and was a former auditor for EY, whose client was Corona! Bad Ass. He introduced me to the huge accounting team, who all had typical Spanish names that I would never remember. I set up my computer and made some selections. Everyone was super nice. It´s weird because the whole plant thinks I´m like the head hancho, and will drop everything they´re doing to answer my questions. Kind of awesome how much respect I command, because I get none in the US. They also ordered lunch for management (aka because I was there and they didn´t want me to get Montezuma´s Revenge), and we sat and talked. The management was all men because, well, it´s Mexico, where machismo still is the norm. The controller gave me a ride home because he lives close to my hotel, and he insisted that someone from the plant pick me up instead of taking a cab every day because he´d feel more comfortable that I´d be safe. Hmmm, sketchy? Oh well, like I care... sketchier the better. After all, I was the one who decided to come here despite the US Department of State Travel Warning to Mexico (and Deloitte has suspended all firm travel to Mexico).

Monday, September 27, 2010 Guadalajara

Took a redeye to Guadalajara, Mexico. More to follow.