Ok I have way been lagging on writing anything here and I have no real excuse. I have been around and I owe some sort of documentation. You can find me in New York, starting this randomly at 2:08 AM. I can't sleep. Maybe that is beacuse I work evenings or nights if thats what you want to call it ( I get off at 11PM). Wait I guess I need to backtrack. You are probably thinking, "What? this fool is working in New York?"
To that I must say: Yes. Im sure it is not what would have been expected of me, but then again what is? So yea the job is lame and not even worth mentioning aside from the point that it is income and eats into my happy hour time. This could be a blessing in disguise, even though I hate it. Happy hour combines two of my favorite things: drinking and being frugal.
So I have been here about a month, and heres what I think.
There are way too many people in NYC. Manhattan that is. I guess the other boroughs are more spread out but this island is fucking packed. Im not that fond of it. Too many people, where is my space? Now dont get it twisted because you probably know Im out her living with my girl and we live in a flat. Or a studio if you want to sound gay about it. So there are no walls and we pretty much live on top of one another and there is no privacy here either. Its mad chill with her though, not a problem! Its out side that is too over crowded and annoying. Populations control? Maybe the government did create crack or aids.... Don't judge me
Jay walking is very sick. To think I got a ticket for it in pussy law Arizona once. Here it is like a game of frogger. You gotta take the most direct angles, not wanting to wast a second. I don't tip taxi drivers. They pick you up and are on the phone the whole time speaking some language from the Fertile Crescent or India or somewhere in between. I dont care if you paid everything you have to bring your family over and a medallion, a tip is earned by someone who does something extra, warranting a tip. These dudes do not. Some smell way foul. Sounds cruel but thats is life.
The worst part about my experience is Door Men. I fucking hate having one in my building, this I cannot explain in words. I can not blame my girl as she was a tiny female living alone in a big city, and they kept her safe and if that is what they are for then I am glad. Now with that said, I fucking hate living in a place where they are present. My immediate family lives in a guard gated community and I hate that ( I will save that for another time)! You must walk by this person every time you want to leave or enter your apartment. Now I dont like talking to any other people I dont want to, and this is the worst. A casual whats up every time just to be cordial. I hate it. I now regularly hesitate about leaving the place or try to make things done in one trip to avoid the inevitable awkward whats up or head nod or eye contact as I enter or leave the building. I feel very uncomfortable being around them. I have worked hard to conceal my whereabouts from a majority of people over the past X amount of years, and now I have these fucking guys who know when I come and go! It drives me nuts. It is all that I think about for a good 5+ minutes anticipating the interaction and how bad it will suck! I don't know what is wrong with me but it cannot stand their presence. I must change topics.
I went to a Jewish Syrian wedding. It was in Brooklyn. My friend Gina invited me. We met in Israel on Brithrigh. (Yes I went to Israel, I have a lot of catching up to do) She told me to meet her at her place around 9:30 on Tuesday night. She invited me the night before the wedding and was like " yea they're Syrian, it wont start till 11PM and will go till 4AM (Tuesday mind you). Anyone is invited, there are no seating arrangements its just a party." This all turned out to be correct. The bride walked the isle at 11:45PM and the party started at 12:30. People were lighting up smokes before they could walk out of the Synagog. The food was all sushi and asian. I guess they don't really have pork or cheese, so kosher is easy. It was great food, also an open bar, I dug it. Stupid old school custom took place, not only were men and women separated at the service but also on the dance floor. At first I thought it was weird ( I can be a homophobe, but only around actual gay men, more importantly the only person I knew is my friend Gina and to be together we kinda just stood in the back and ate and drank) I began feeling good off the free Johnny Black, and started to dance with the men. I learned the lightbulb dance. Just kinda move in a circle and act like you are unscrewing a bulb with one hand and screwing on in with the other. I started talking to the barmaid in Spanish and convinced her to let me take the rest of the Johnny bottle home with me, and that no one would notice. She told me to put it in my jacket. Its still on the shelf crackin, Epic win
I went to Rockaway to visit my good buddy from CR. Turns out that on that day he just got suspended (hopefully not terminated) from his city life guard job he has had for years. A few days earlier there was a drowning a few miles down from where he is normally stationed. This tragedy occurred on an un life guarded beach. Also that day a lot of others were saved by hard working life guards doing their job going un-recognized. The following day a reporter came down to the beach looking for a story. This day was a stormy one that shut down the beach due to lightning. My buddy was chilling at his post on an empty beach listening to the weather report on his headphones when the reported approached. The repoter asked a few basic questions looking for a story. As he left he snapped pic of my homie with his headphones on as he left. Next day front page news is along the lines of how can lifeguards save lives if they cant hear? Good point but total libel. In the pic you can see the shit conditions that had the beach closed down and not one person in the water let alone on the sand. Not to mention they don't require hearing tests like they do vision screenings. So even though it would be inappropriate for an on duty guard to be with headphones on, hearing tests are never administered. Basically my boy got canned after getting bullshit slandered the previous day. Funny thing is how I just happened to be out there as all of this was going on and it was the talk of the town. All of the other life guards were upset as they know how good of at his job he was, but still as friends do still had to bust his balls by each bringing copies of the paper over. Good to see friends are like that no matter where. The next day he even had a political cartoon about him. Sharks eating the surfer and all. First time I have ever known anyone with their own political cartoon. Reality is that its a shame, I know this guy and would trust loved ones lives to swim under his supervision. The guys a fish. And I dont mean at the bar like I am. Guess its a good excuse to move back out the country. Dale mop.
*Family and the law skip the below paragraph
Weed is delivered to your door by a dude you dont know and he doesn't know you. You call a number and a dispatcher dude answers, you drop a name, ( just a first name, and you dont have to say how you know them) and a dude rolls over. They just ask your address and stop on by. Dude comes up, opens a big ass bag, with lots of little plastic rectangular jars each with a sticker and bud name on it. You say which ones you want, pay, and the guy bounces. Shits expensive, but its fire, and mad convenient. Surprised they don't get pinched, or maybe they do, as it seems risky as fuck. Not for the buyer but the seller. I can think of a lot of ways to jack a dude like that or for the 50 to swoop on them, but everyones got their hustle.
The population of gay dogs her is astronomical. If you would have asked me the bread types of these beasts a month ago I would have identified them with: little gay lap dog, as I have never known any of these breeds. I try to be sympathetic as it is my species that has manipulated these creatures to their current state that has rendered them snake food in any natural setting. Yorkies, mini pinchers, maltese, and these poor little toy breeds are around to give women and their spineless boyfriends something to accessorize. Now there They are ideal for apartment living... because they require small amount of exercise. The saddest thing is when they are dressed up in clothing to be cute. I kinda almost understand the rain coat, but the way it is done it is so not purposefull, and done for style. Another dislike of mine are dogs bread with poodle. I have come to notice in my short time here ( I have never really seen poodles before, have you?) they are agressive as hell. Also they are ugly as hell. I guess due to their easy on allergy fur, which I assume is a cover to follow a gay trend to get a poodle, they are popular to breed with. Results in a bunch of strudel doodle cockadoodle mixes, all gay
Diverse people everywhere. Races, income levels, styles, ethnicities, attitudes all different. Look around the subway car, you see everyone. I like that.
Grab a slice of pizza at any corner. As a matter of fact every street block you walk down there are at least 3 reasteraunts with chalkboards out front soliciting you with their happy hours or specials of the day. If you walk around enough your bound to find something that satisfies your palette as well as your wallet.
Thats what I got for now.
viernes, 4 de septiembre de 2009
sábado, 27 de junio de 2009
Annoyances of Traveling
Now if you know me, which you should, you would know that traveling is one of my favorite ways to spend my leisure time. It ranks up there with eating In-N-Out, chillin with Saint Dog, and imbibing. However when one decides to exit their comfort zone and experience new places, people, and things; uncomfortable situations occur.
You also should know that I can be very cynical and critical, but don’t get it twisted, I am very go with the flow. The following are just interpretations of some of my views and a critique, but in my style.
To put it more bluntly when traveling I observe, and the following things piss me off!
First I must admit that I am a hypocrite in some of these situations, as I partake in a lot of the following bull shit that is ruining travel. However the first step to recovery is admittance, and I just took that one.
So in no particular order…
Travel Books:
Are you looking for the most unadventurous, trendy, on the beaten path manner to see a foreign destination? Pick up a Guide book and follow it to a T! Lonely Planet, Fromers, and Footprint all are written by a bunch of lucky bastards, (of whose profession I am jealous), and there is an overbearing abundance of goobers who follow these things like the state of Utah does the Book of Mormon.
I have owned the too popular “LP” (I hate when they call it that) and a Footprint and they do provide some good information. My buddy Chris, who has traveled much more of this world than I have once told me “ yes Lonely Planet is good to have for a reference, but only as a reference and you would be a fool to travel with it as your only source” or something along those lines.
The huge problem is a majority of travelers uses these books directly against Chris’s advice, and they all congregate in the same spots and its not a authentic experience. When I did take the advice of my travel book I found my self thinking, “oh perfect this is why I came to Colombia, to hang out with a bunch of Irish and Australian guys, and pick up on some stupid sounding English.”
As these books have made traveling more convenient they have also created “Gringo Trails”. This takes away from a big part of traveling, being away from the norm, and emersion in something new.
Backpackers:
Ok, not all of them but the douche bag ones. The ones who live by their travel books. They make me think “why did you leave your country.” I want to complement people for wanting to get out of their home and experience a different cultures and places, but if you go you should do just that! I want to castigate the “Backpackers” who travel for months in big groups, don’t learn a lick of the local language, and live by Lonely Planet.
Taking pictures:
People go to a location, bust out the camera, and immediately take as many pictures as possible.
Commonly, travelers will arrive at a historical landmark, impressive natural scene, or point of interest, and skip over the conveniently placed informational sign to describe the thing you are looking at. They will proceed to take a bunch of pictures to show people that they were there, and that is that.
There is always the concern of getting the picture, and this takes away from the actual joy of being there in the present time.
People refer to certain places and say: “heres a great place to take a picture so get your cameras ready”. It seems that taking the picture has become more important than actually seeing the site.
This also occurs when going out at night. People want to bring the camera to take funny drunken pictures. Sounds incriminating to me, I tend to act a fool when drinking, and I am not a fan of evidence. Also you can never get every one in, and the photos have to be taken multiple times.
“Oh wait, we have to take that one again, Billy wasn’t in it.”
Now I agree it is fun to look back at photos to reminisce, but not at the inconvenience of the moment.
Facebook:
Probably the main reason people take photos in the first place. To tag people and share with all their friendsies!
Again I am a hypocrite as of course I have an account, as does anyone who has access to the internet.
My beef is the people who abuse it and there fore are addicted. It’s a vicious pattern. You get a Lonely Planet, you go to Backpacker hostels, you meet others who are the same as you, you exchange facebook friend requests, you share pictures, and make little cute comments.
ITS FUCKIN GAY!
If it weren’t such a great networking tool, I would delete it right now!
Asians in SARS masks:
I am not one to be racist or stereotype but this is dead on. I have been in a few airports recently, and only Asians are wearing these masks, and they are doing it in numbers.
Here is a ratio.
6,767,555,800: 263
The global population : People who have died from Swine Flue.
Do the math, you will not get it.
Just learn to wash your hands more often, use a condom, and stay away from suspect looking people and you will be fine.
Israelis:
Generally I don’t object to people who are introverts, I actually encourage their presence. I my self am not a fan of being around people who are supper outgoing and want to make mindless chitchat with me regarding shit that is none of their business. But Israelis taken standoffishness it to a whole different level.
They travel together in large packs, and tend to always meet up with other Jew packs, and are pretty much rude to all outsiders. Not a good way to travel.
I did meet 2 chill ones out of the bunch, but the majority seemed to reject others if you were not born in the promised land. I told one that I was part of the tribe, and he was astonished as this piece of info came to him right after I asked for his bacon.
He ordered a hot dog at a convenience stand that was right next to a soccer field where we just played. It came with cheese and bacon. At first I was shocked at the fact that he would order a hot dog as that does not sound too kosher, but he did. He then sent it back when it had cheese on it.
I asked him for his bacon and said sure. He then proceeded to explain to this Irish guy and me that he was kosher and what it meant and I said yea I know Im Jewish. He then was astonished that I had ate his bacon.
I said yea that if he wanted to get down to it I don’t belief in God and if there is a God it would be a fool for not allowing people to eat bacon!
He did not like this comment.
If eating a bacon is a sin, then send me to the inferno and I will eat bacon with Satan and Michael Jackson.
Traveling in large groups:
I like to go do my own thing on my own time. Being with others on their agenda is a pain in the ass! One other person who is on my level is cool. More than that is a hassle.
The exception to this is when I am with my Grandparents. They have earned the right to take their time and I enjoy accommodating them.
When I am doing independent traveling and get stuck with a bunch of people who want to go together this is a problem.
Your with some people about to do something and wait, one more guy wants to come. But wait he needs to shower first. Oh and not a quick shower, he wants to rub one out in there while he is doing it.
I lose tolerance for this quick.
I want to do my things when I want to do them and your agenda does not fit in.
Kapish?!
Computers with time limits:
Like the one I am currently on! I have to cut this short because there are others waiting.
PS: Im sure I sound like an asshole after this entry. Which is pretty accurate. However I have been traveling 3rd world lately, and I am now being pampered on a nice Cruise/Bus adventure. It is a tough reverse culture shock for me and I am still adapting. I am really enjoying my self, but part of me is bitter.
I love my family and friends more than words can describe.
Peace
You also should know that I can be very cynical and critical, but don’t get it twisted, I am very go with the flow. The following are just interpretations of some of my views and a critique, but in my style.
To put it more bluntly when traveling I observe, and the following things piss me off!
First I must admit that I am a hypocrite in some of these situations, as I partake in a lot of the following bull shit that is ruining travel. However the first step to recovery is admittance, and I just took that one.
So in no particular order…
Travel Books:
Are you looking for the most unadventurous, trendy, on the beaten path manner to see a foreign destination? Pick up a Guide book and follow it to a T! Lonely Planet, Fromers, and Footprint all are written by a bunch of lucky bastards, (of whose profession I am jealous), and there is an overbearing abundance of goobers who follow these things like the state of Utah does the Book of Mormon.
I have owned the too popular “LP” (I hate when they call it that) and a Footprint and they do provide some good information. My buddy Chris, who has traveled much more of this world than I have once told me “ yes Lonely Planet is good to have for a reference, but only as a reference and you would be a fool to travel with it as your only source” or something along those lines.
The huge problem is a majority of travelers uses these books directly against Chris’s advice, and they all congregate in the same spots and its not a authentic experience. When I did take the advice of my travel book I found my self thinking, “oh perfect this is why I came to Colombia, to hang out with a bunch of Irish and Australian guys, and pick up on some stupid sounding English.”
As these books have made traveling more convenient they have also created “Gringo Trails”. This takes away from a big part of traveling, being away from the norm, and emersion in something new.
Backpackers:
Ok, not all of them but the douche bag ones. The ones who live by their travel books. They make me think “why did you leave your country.” I want to complement people for wanting to get out of their home and experience a different cultures and places, but if you go you should do just that! I want to castigate the “Backpackers” who travel for months in big groups, don’t learn a lick of the local language, and live by Lonely Planet.
Taking pictures:
People go to a location, bust out the camera, and immediately take as many pictures as possible.
Commonly, travelers will arrive at a historical landmark, impressive natural scene, or point of interest, and skip over the conveniently placed informational sign to describe the thing you are looking at. They will proceed to take a bunch of pictures to show people that they were there, and that is that.
There is always the concern of getting the picture, and this takes away from the actual joy of being there in the present time.
People refer to certain places and say: “heres a great place to take a picture so get your cameras ready”. It seems that taking the picture has become more important than actually seeing the site.
This also occurs when going out at night. People want to bring the camera to take funny drunken pictures. Sounds incriminating to me, I tend to act a fool when drinking, and I am not a fan of evidence. Also you can never get every one in, and the photos have to be taken multiple times.
“Oh wait, we have to take that one again, Billy wasn’t in it.”
Now I agree it is fun to look back at photos to reminisce, but not at the inconvenience of the moment.
Facebook:
Probably the main reason people take photos in the first place. To tag people and share with all their friendsies!
Again I am a hypocrite as of course I have an account, as does anyone who has access to the internet.
My beef is the people who abuse it and there fore are addicted. It’s a vicious pattern. You get a Lonely Planet, you go to Backpacker hostels, you meet others who are the same as you, you exchange facebook friend requests, you share pictures, and make little cute comments.
ITS FUCKIN GAY!
If it weren’t such a great networking tool, I would delete it right now!
Asians in SARS masks:
I am not one to be racist or stereotype but this is dead on. I have been in a few airports recently, and only Asians are wearing these masks, and they are doing it in numbers.
Here is a ratio.
6,767,555,800: 263
The global population : People who have died from Swine Flue.
Do the math, you will not get it.
Just learn to wash your hands more often, use a condom, and stay away from suspect looking people and you will be fine.
Israelis:
Generally I don’t object to people who are introverts, I actually encourage their presence. I my self am not a fan of being around people who are supper outgoing and want to make mindless chitchat with me regarding shit that is none of their business. But Israelis taken standoffishness it to a whole different level.
They travel together in large packs, and tend to always meet up with other Jew packs, and are pretty much rude to all outsiders. Not a good way to travel.
I did meet 2 chill ones out of the bunch, but the majority seemed to reject others if you were not born in the promised land. I told one that I was part of the tribe, and he was astonished as this piece of info came to him right after I asked for his bacon.
He ordered a hot dog at a convenience stand that was right next to a soccer field where we just played. It came with cheese and bacon. At first I was shocked at the fact that he would order a hot dog as that does not sound too kosher, but he did. He then sent it back when it had cheese on it.
I asked him for his bacon and said sure. He then proceeded to explain to this Irish guy and me that he was kosher and what it meant and I said yea I know Im Jewish. He then was astonished that I had ate his bacon.
I said yea that if he wanted to get down to it I don’t belief in God and if there is a God it would be a fool for not allowing people to eat bacon!
He did not like this comment.
If eating a bacon is a sin, then send me to the inferno and I will eat bacon with Satan and Michael Jackson.
Traveling in large groups:
I like to go do my own thing on my own time. Being with others on their agenda is a pain in the ass! One other person who is on my level is cool. More than that is a hassle.
The exception to this is when I am with my Grandparents. They have earned the right to take their time and I enjoy accommodating them.
When I am doing independent traveling and get stuck with a bunch of people who want to go together this is a problem.
Your with some people about to do something and wait, one more guy wants to come. But wait he needs to shower first. Oh and not a quick shower, he wants to rub one out in there while he is doing it.
I lose tolerance for this quick.
I want to do my things when I want to do them and your agenda does not fit in.
Kapish?!
Computers with time limits:
Like the one I am currently on! I have to cut this short because there are others waiting.
PS: Im sure I sound like an asshole after this entry. Which is pretty accurate. However I have been traveling 3rd world lately, and I am now being pampered on a nice Cruise/Bus adventure. It is a tough reverse culture shock for me and I am still adapting. I am really enjoying my self, but part of me is bitter.
I love my family and friends more than words can describe.
Peace
miércoles, 17 de junio de 2009
Some reflection on Colombia
-THE FEMALES ARE SMOKING HOT!
There are so many great things that happened to me in this country, but I would not qualify as an actual dudebro if I did not start with this topic. Generations of fornication between Latinos, Europeans, local Indians, and imported black slaves from Africa has resulted in the procreation of beautiful, exotic, divas who arouse from far away. Mestizo at its best!
The bodies are curvy like a cello! Thick apple bottoms with the epitome of the tuck; and bosoms so round, perky, and voluptuous. The accent in which they speak Spanish is also incredibly sexy. An accent is not something you can easily describe in written text, but let me say it is the sexiest dialect I have ever heard. Much sweeter sounding than the half tongued tone of Central America, the vulgar whiny sounding Mexican, the lispie gay sounding Spanish of Spain, the uncomprehendable speak of the Caribbean Islands, or the wannabe Italian Argentinean dialect. The Paisas (what the females are referred to as down there) even smell bomb.
I have never seen such a high concentration of sexy bitties in my life, and I went to ASU! Ok well maybe at ASU, but sexy Latina Momies tan RICAS, estan solas!
Walking around Cartagena me and my British buddy Mat could not stop pointing out the next hot chick who was walking by. This was very hard to do because there are so many. College campuses are a good observation point.
Medellín, or Latin Silicon Valley, as it is referred to by people who think they are funny, is very famous for breast implants. So yea there is a lot of that there. I prefer real titties but I did not complain.
In the country there is a plethora of 10s and I would say that the median of hot chicks who would rank is an 8! Think about that one for a minute!
-THE PEOPLE ARE SUPPER HOSPITABLE!
As a country Colombia is the third largest consumer of our Vision Screeners, following the USA and the UK respectively. Therefore, we have a lot of clients there, and one of the many things I do at Saco is customer relations. With that said I have a few contacts in Colombia. A vast majority of my relationships with clients is via email and phone, but I always casually and jokingly inform them that I will eventually make it to their part of the world and would love to meet them personally. This is my slick way of casually inviting my self to stay at their home. And it works!
In Cali I stayed with customer of ours ,Randy Hurtado, and his Mother Esther.
Esther is from NY but has lived in Colombia for about 50 years. She is an artist whos passion is painting, and her works of art that are up in her studio easily museum quality. They could easily pass as the work of Rembrandt or Velazquez. This was the first time I have personally met such a great artist!
She brings her watercolors to a location and paints what she is observing in a little book. She then takes that book to her studio and works on a larger canvas. Again this is the best artist I have ever met in my life. Beautiful work! Also she is an incredible salsa dancer. It was incredible to see a woman the same age as my Grandma and Nana move so gracefully to the rifts of the salsa rhythm. So full of life, energy, and strong spirit. An incredible woman!
Randy her son was born in Cali, but went to school in Tennessee, and is the definition of 100% bi-lingual. Aside from that he is a great man, who unbeknownst to him, he indirectly taught me a lot about how to live life.
Randy had work to do that night when I arrived so I took a taxi directly to his house, where his mother and maid were awaiting me. When I arrived I was greeted with open arms and presented to the loft where Randy has a computer and flat-screen with Direct TV. I was just chilin checking email and enjoying being in a nice big modern home after traveling for a few weeks, when Esther comes up with a fresh squeezed juice and a full dinner plate. Sweet!
The food and hospitality proceeded like this my whole stay there in Cali. When I woke up I was made breakfast, if I was around I got lunch, and dinner was made for me when I got back in the evening. Good fresh food too! Randy's girlfriend and her son Pablo (age 9) were hanging out all weekend, and I got to get to know them too. We went to a local river and hiked around and got wet in the rapids.
We later hung out in his yard laying around the pool. Pablo and I played catch with a baseball, badminton, and went swimming. He was a cool kid and it made me think of playing with my little brother. I am now looking forward to going home and messing around with Mexican Andrew.
I am supper glad I was able to spend this time with Randy and his family. Great time spent with awesome people and an invaluable part of my trip.
A few days later in Medellín I randomly ran into this Austrian guy Jorj who I met earlier in Cartegena. Small world. We then decided to go check out a part of the city and just wander around. We get on the metro and instantly he starts talking with a girl he is seated next to. Her name is Erica. She then asks us if we want to party and meet her friends, and of course we say Sí!
We then proceeded to go to her barrio in the NorthEast part of Medellín. This is an area not frequented by Gringos and is kind of a ghetto area. She introduces us to her house mates, Omar, Marta, and MyLady (that was her name) and we then go get some booze at the store next door and go chill on the top of the roof. Slowly but surely friends of theirs start to come up to the roof as this is their place to come after work and just chill and unstress. We are partying all throughout the night, going through boxes of aguardiente (Colombian Liquor), beer, matas, and basically pegando la cachimba!
Two of these dudes used to be break dancers and love rap and all of the hip hop culture. You best belive we did some freestylin. We also had some deep conversations about global politics, the world's perception of Colombia, how we are privileged to travel and how they could never afford to do what we are doing, and if people would invite strangers into their home like this in our country?
It was pretty tough for me to answer some of these questions, as I felt that these people were intelligent, just stuck in a shitty situation. I guess we all cant be lucky sperm. I told them that they are more than welcome to come to my home if they ever make it to the United States, or wherever I end up living. And that I wish the best for all of them.
For example, Marta is part of the first group in the city who is now doing social work advancing woman's rights as the culture is still very Machista where men are very dominate. She was a very well spoken and intelligent woman. She then proceeded to inform me on the woman's suffrage movement in the US of 1913 and Susan B. Anthony and all that. I was pretty impressed.
In an nutshell these people were supper cool with me and Jorj!
Nice things they did for two perfect strangers:
Let two random dudes into their home.
Cooked dinner for us.
Provided party favors.
Tried to teach us how to dance.
And most importantly called in a favor with a taxi driver. He had a friend taxi driver come and pick us up at 3 AM, as 2 Gringos cannot just take any random taxi, especially in these parts. Kidnapping and robbery are a reality, and precaution must be taken.
This night provided me with a real Colombian experience. A night like this is something that one would never encounter if they stuck to the Gringo trail, and only went to the touristy spots. I thank all of them for adding to my Colombian experience!
When in Bogotá I stayed with another contact I have made at Keystone View, my good buddy Martin Peralta. He is an Argentinian man who met his Colombian wife in Orlando, Florida as he lived there from 2002-2005. You would not know this however due to his non existing English speaking capability. Just goes to show there are a lot of Latinos in the States.
Martin and his wife (Shes is from Bogotá and I forgot her name, so lets call her Martina) met in Orlando and decided to move to Colombia and start a business and a family. They now have a 3 year old son and a one year old daughter. Their son is not well behaved, maybe its the age, but I will not tolerate the behavior displayed by this child when I have one of my own. Whiny, running around hitting me, throwing his food, disobedient, and the like. I would have laid the smack down.
They also have their own business, a practice providing the tests needed to get a drivers license. In Colombia there are private practices that provide the service of administering various exams to patients in order to get a license. Martin and Martina have 2 of these practices. Aside from a vision test the government also requires an audio test, a psychological test and a general health examination. For each of these tests they need a specialist to administer the exam.
Martin and Martina are the warmest most caring couple I have ever met! He picked me up in his car at the bus stop when I got in, took me to dinner, bought us some beers, and brought me to his house. The whole time we were touring around the city he would not let me pay for anything, and insisted that I was his guest and that he wanted to take care of me.
An example of how caring they are:
It is Saturday night, my last night in Colombia before I go back to Costa Rica. We did some sight seeing and the plan was to go pick up an ex employee, Rosario, who we would be dropping off at the buss station that night as she will be moving to Cali. He proceeded to explain to me Rosario's situation and how the met her and what she was doing. It proceeded like this....
Two years ago Martina saw Rosario looking for food out of a trash can in front of their office while holding a 3 month old baby. As anyone should feel perturbed to see such a thing, Martina felt inclined to do something. She approached Rosario and offered to buy them food. Rosario of course accepted and this and wanted to figure out a way to keep good relations and maybe get more help from Martina. Turns out that Rosario is a drug abuser addicted to heroin, cocaine, and god knows what else. Martin and Martina decided that they wanted to help Rosario kick her addictions, and try to provide her son with some type of future.
Martin and Martina offered Rosario a job cleaning their building and doing very basic tasks. She would not earn money, as that can easily be used to buy drugs, but was offered trips to the market to buy food and close for her and her son. Also part of the deal was that Rosario had to go to therapy one hour a day to try to get some psychological counseling. This worked out because as part of their practice they have a psychologist, so when he was not busy he spent time with Rosario.
Fast forward to present day and Rosario has now kicked the drug habit and is recovering well. Martin and Martina have contacted her family in Cali and arranged for her to now go live with her sister and mother there who are not crack heads. This is where she is going to go this Saturday night, but first we need to go pick her up.
Martin and Martina have bought her a cell phone and some minutes to contact her for this journey and to call them to inform as her safe arrival and her family when she was at the terminal. In Colombia it is pay as you go, not that contract bullshit we are forced into in the states. So they got her the phone as a going away gift. Just more genuine caring that they do.
As Martin and I are going to pick her up Martin point out to me a hill on our left and says that is Barrio Cazuca the most dangerous in Bogotá. He said not even the police go in there in small numbers. There are 2 dichos or sayings that they say about this area. "Entras si quieres, salgas si puedes" and " no llevas la machete, le da la machete" or in English "enter if you want, leave if you can" and "don't bring the machete they give you the machete".
Ok! So its a shady slum like that movie City of God. Good advice and well noted, I will not go there!
We then get to the spot where we are supposed to pick up Rosario and she is waiting with her baby in a dirty baby stroller, covered in mud. It will soon be apparent why. She is supposed to be ready to go from this meeting place. Martin then askes her where is the rest of her stuff? She said that no one would help her bring it down so we have to drive up to her house in Cazuca to go get it.
Martin looks at me nervously as we are already committed to get Rosario to the buss stop, so we have to go to this shady area to complete the mission. FUCK!
Martin proceeds to drive and she says not to worry as she is very well know and loved in this area, and God is with us and this area is a paradise on Gods great earth. Great a junkie conformed God freak. As we continue to drive up a hill through a slum, it seemed like her house was further and further up the hill. The road was not really a road either, more like a mud slip n' slide.
As we are climbing the hill the conversation was pretty much like this:
Martin" Aqui"
Rosario " No mas adelante, sigue"
Martin "Aqui"
Rosario " No, no por aca, mas adaelante"
We finally arrived and she passes Martin the baby, jumps out and runs into her shack. She proceeds to throw trashbags full of cloths into the back seat and a bunch of little kids are also carrying trashbags and putting them into the back seat. We back out and haul ass down the hill and out of the barrio.
We dropped Rosario off at the bus station and she called the next morning to let us know she made it safe to Cali. Hopefully she will start a new life and her son at least now has the opportunity to not grow up in a Favela.
That night we went out to drink a beer after the whole Rosario debacle, and Martin finally let me buy him a drink.
This couple went well beyond the call of duty to help a fellow human being and saved the life of a little boy. Growing up in that environment selling drugs and being a thug is all but inevitable.
This caring was apparent in the way that they took care of me in the few days before. But seeing what they had done for Rosario, was a big fat !
Fortunately I did not meet any crazy Guerrilla fighters nor anyone who wanted to kidnap me to do the Paseo de Millionario.
Not saying that they don't exist, but from my experience Colombia was a very friendly country glad to be rising out of the drug induced civil war of the past and embracing the future.
MAKE SURE YOU HAVE A YELLOW FEVER VACCINATION TO ENTER CENTRAL AMERICA FROM SOUTH AMERICA!
I never knew this was the case. They should tell you this when you buy a plane ticket. Get your shit together Taca!
I get to the airport in Bogotá an hour and a half before my flight, ignoring their advice of 3 hours. I go to the window to get my ticket and they ask me for my passport and my yellow fever certificate.
Me "What certificate?"
Her "To go to Costa Rica from here you need a certificate to get on the plane, with out it you can not go and should change your flight"
Me "Well Im getting on this flight, how do I get the certificate, can i do this here at the airport?"
Her " Yes but the vaccination needs to be in your blood stream for 10 days to take affect. You can get it but you will have to stay in Colombia for 10 days"
Now this does not work for me, I have a flight leaving for the states from Costa Rica in 5 days then go straight to Alaska, I gotta figure something out.
I go to the clinic and ask the girl working there for the vaccination. She said that she can give it to me and hopefully I can explain to the lady something and that they can let me on.
Ok I guess Ill try.
I go to back to the window and try to check in with a different lady and seemed in a big hurry as now there was like 50 minutes until my flight and I needed to go now as security is such a bitch. She said ok but I could not check my bag as baggage check for this flight is now closed and I had to run to the security. She then was about to hand me the ticket and then remembered to ask me for my passport and certificate. Shit I almost got away with it I thought. I gave her the documents and she said that this certificate is good but it was done today and I have to wait 10 days. I told her that I had the vaccine before but lost it and just got a new one. She told me to go get the girl at the clinic to write this on the certificate and they would let me on.
I ran back to the clinic and asked the girl to "find my previous vaccination in the system, and I would be grateful and love to help her how I could". She agreed and was able to find the record of my old vaccination I got on July 23 of 2004. I gave her all the aguardiente that I had in my bag, as I could not bring liquid on the plane, gave her my knives and some extra money I had. Well worth it! And thank god for the power of the dollar and some countries still working with a palm up!
I ran down to get my ticket and they said finally my certificate was good. I had to beg and plead with people to get me through the security lines as in Colombia they are a bitch. Im sure you understand why. First security like any normal airport. Then a thorough a customs process, then another security where they open your bags and do a body frisk.
As Im at the last security point, a girl from the airline comes and is screaming "Señor Gerson, Para San Jose"
Me: Si Voy!
I look at the guy with his hands in my bag like " Parce, dejame irme profa no llevo nada"
He understood and let me run to the terminal. I was the last to get on the plane and everyone was kinda looking at me like I was the asshole who didn't get to the airport 3 hours before my flight and didn't have my vaccination certificate.
Boy were they way off!
I entered Costa Rica with no problems, and Im pretty sure I didn't bring Yellow Fever! The good thing is I now have this certificate and I can now go to any dirty disease ridden country on the world!
It is an incredible how the mind works when it is forced to act in such a quick manner. Take away options and the brain will be forced to find a solution! Think fast!
Big ups to my old man too for answering my prayers!
THE LANDSCAPE IS BEAUTIFUL!
How can I go into beautiful green lush mountains, huge forests with waterfalls and cascades, big beautiful valleys, white beaches, jungles, awesome sunsets, rivers and all types of nice nature.
Well I just did.
Google image Colombia, its a really pretty country with everything, and Im over writing.
-IN CONCLUSION
Colombia is a great country and I am glad I was able to go and make my own opinion. That is the most important thing I learned on this journey. Nothing is more valuable than ones own instincts and experiences are priceless to help improve on this best of all intuitions!
I will be back to Colombia some day in the future, but with more time to explore and a valid yellow fever certificate!
Nos vemos pronto parces. Que chevére la cachimba!
There are so many great things that happened to me in this country, but I would not qualify as an actual dudebro if I did not start with this topic. Generations of fornication between Latinos, Europeans, local Indians, and imported black slaves from Africa has resulted in the procreation of beautiful, exotic, divas who arouse from far away. Mestizo at its best!
The bodies are curvy like a cello! Thick apple bottoms with the epitome of the tuck; and bosoms so round, perky, and voluptuous. The accent in which they speak Spanish is also incredibly sexy. An accent is not something you can easily describe in written text, but let me say it is the sexiest dialect I have ever heard. Much sweeter sounding than the half tongued tone of Central America, the vulgar whiny sounding Mexican, the lispie gay sounding Spanish of Spain, the uncomprehendable speak of the Caribbean Islands, or the wannabe Italian Argentinean dialect. The Paisas (what the females are referred to as down there) even smell bomb.
I have never seen such a high concentration of sexy bitties in my life, and I went to ASU! Ok well maybe at ASU, but sexy Latina Momies tan RICAS, estan solas!
Walking around Cartagena me and my British buddy Mat could not stop pointing out the next hot chick who was walking by. This was very hard to do because there are so many. College campuses are a good observation point.
Medellín, or Latin Silicon Valley, as it is referred to by people who think they are funny, is very famous for breast implants. So yea there is a lot of that there. I prefer real titties but I did not complain.
In the country there is a plethora of 10s and I would say that the median of hot chicks who would rank is an 8! Think about that one for a minute!
-THE PEOPLE ARE SUPPER HOSPITABLE!
As a country Colombia is the third largest consumer of our Vision Screeners, following the USA and the UK respectively. Therefore, we have a lot of clients there, and one of the many things I do at Saco is customer relations. With that said I have a few contacts in Colombia. A vast majority of my relationships with clients is via email and phone, but I always casually and jokingly inform them that I will eventually make it to their part of the world and would love to meet them personally. This is my slick way of casually inviting my self to stay at their home. And it works!
In Cali I stayed with customer of ours ,Randy Hurtado, and his Mother Esther.
Esther is from NY but has lived in Colombia for about 50 years. She is an artist whos passion is painting, and her works of art that are up in her studio easily museum quality. They could easily pass as the work of Rembrandt or Velazquez. This was the first time I have personally met such a great artist!
She brings her watercolors to a location and paints what she is observing in a little book. She then takes that book to her studio and works on a larger canvas. Again this is the best artist I have ever met in my life. Beautiful work! Also she is an incredible salsa dancer. It was incredible to see a woman the same age as my Grandma and Nana move so gracefully to the rifts of the salsa rhythm. So full of life, energy, and strong spirit. An incredible woman!
Randy her son was born in Cali, but went to school in Tennessee, and is the definition of 100% bi-lingual. Aside from that he is a great man, who unbeknownst to him, he indirectly taught me a lot about how to live life.
Randy had work to do that night when I arrived so I took a taxi directly to his house, where his mother and maid were awaiting me. When I arrived I was greeted with open arms and presented to the loft where Randy has a computer and flat-screen with Direct TV. I was just chilin checking email and enjoying being in a nice big modern home after traveling for a few weeks, when Esther comes up with a fresh squeezed juice and a full dinner plate. Sweet!
The food and hospitality proceeded like this my whole stay there in Cali. When I woke up I was made breakfast, if I was around I got lunch, and dinner was made for me when I got back in the evening. Good fresh food too! Randy's girlfriend and her son Pablo (age 9) were hanging out all weekend, and I got to get to know them too. We went to a local river and hiked around and got wet in the rapids.
We later hung out in his yard laying around the pool. Pablo and I played catch with a baseball, badminton, and went swimming. He was a cool kid and it made me think of playing with my little brother. I am now looking forward to going home and messing around with Mexican Andrew.
I am supper glad I was able to spend this time with Randy and his family. Great time spent with awesome people and an invaluable part of my trip.
A few days later in Medellín I randomly ran into this Austrian guy Jorj who I met earlier in Cartegena. Small world. We then decided to go check out a part of the city and just wander around. We get on the metro and instantly he starts talking with a girl he is seated next to. Her name is Erica. She then asks us if we want to party and meet her friends, and of course we say Sí!
We then proceeded to go to her barrio in the NorthEast part of Medellín. This is an area not frequented by Gringos and is kind of a ghetto area. She introduces us to her house mates, Omar, Marta, and MyLady (that was her name) and we then go get some booze at the store next door and go chill on the top of the roof. Slowly but surely friends of theirs start to come up to the roof as this is their place to come after work and just chill and unstress. We are partying all throughout the night, going through boxes of aguardiente (Colombian Liquor), beer, matas, and basically pegando la cachimba!
Two of these dudes used to be break dancers and love rap and all of the hip hop culture. You best belive we did some freestylin. We also had some deep conversations about global politics, the world's perception of Colombia, how we are privileged to travel and how they could never afford to do what we are doing, and if people would invite strangers into their home like this in our country?
It was pretty tough for me to answer some of these questions, as I felt that these people were intelligent, just stuck in a shitty situation. I guess we all cant be lucky sperm. I told them that they are more than welcome to come to my home if they ever make it to the United States, or wherever I end up living. And that I wish the best for all of them.
For example, Marta is part of the first group in the city who is now doing social work advancing woman's rights as the culture is still very Machista where men are very dominate. She was a very well spoken and intelligent woman. She then proceeded to inform me on the woman's suffrage movement in the US of 1913 and Susan B. Anthony and all that. I was pretty impressed.
In an nutshell these people were supper cool with me and Jorj!
Nice things they did for two perfect strangers:
Let two random dudes into their home.
Cooked dinner for us.
Provided party favors.
Tried to teach us how to dance.
And most importantly called in a favor with a taxi driver. He had a friend taxi driver come and pick us up at 3 AM, as 2 Gringos cannot just take any random taxi, especially in these parts. Kidnapping and robbery are a reality, and precaution must be taken.
This night provided me with a real Colombian experience. A night like this is something that one would never encounter if they stuck to the Gringo trail, and only went to the touristy spots. I thank all of them for adding to my Colombian experience!
When in Bogotá I stayed with another contact I have made at Keystone View, my good buddy Martin Peralta. He is an Argentinian man who met his Colombian wife in Orlando, Florida as he lived there from 2002-2005. You would not know this however due to his non existing English speaking capability. Just goes to show there are a lot of Latinos in the States.
Martin and his wife (Shes is from Bogotá and I forgot her name, so lets call her Martina) met in Orlando and decided to move to Colombia and start a business and a family. They now have a 3 year old son and a one year old daughter. Their son is not well behaved, maybe its the age, but I will not tolerate the behavior displayed by this child when I have one of my own. Whiny, running around hitting me, throwing his food, disobedient, and the like. I would have laid the smack down.
They also have their own business, a practice providing the tests needed to get a drivers license. In Colombia there are private practices that provide the service of administering various exams to patients in order to get a license. Martin and Martina have 2 of these practices. Aside from a vision test the government also requires an audio test, a psychological test and a general health examination. For each of these tests they need a specialist to administer the exam.
Martin and Martina are the warmest most caring couple I have ever met! He picked me up in his car at the bus stop when I got in, took me to dinner, bought us some beers, and brought me to his house. The whole time we were touring around the city he would not let me pay for anything, and insisted that I was his guest and that he wanted to take care of me.
An example of how caring they are:
It is Saturday night, my last night in Colombia before I go back to Costa Rica. We did some sight seeing and the plan was to go pick up an ex employee, Rosario, who we would be dropping off at the buss station that night as she will be moving to Cali. He proceeded to explain to me Rosario's situation and how the met her and what she was doing. It proceeded like this....
Two years ago Martina saw Rosario looking for food out of a trash can in front of their office while holding a 3 month old baby. As anyone should feel perturbed to see such a thing, Martina felt inclined to do something. She approached Rosario and offered to buy them food. Rosario of course accepted and this and wanted to figure out a way to keep good relations and maybe get more help from Martina. Turns out that Rosario is a drug abuser addicted to heroin, cocaine, and god knows what else. Martin and Martina decided that they wanted to help Rosario kick her addictions, and try to provide her son with some type of future.
Martin and Martina offered Rosario a job cleaning their building and doing very basic tasks. She would not earn money, as that can easily be used to buy drugs, but was offered trips to the market to buy food and close for her and her son. Also part of the deal was that Rosario had to go to therapy one hour a day to try to get some psychological counseling. This worked out because as part of their practice they have a psychologist, so when he was not busy he spent time with Rosario.
Fast forward to present day and Rosario has now kicked the drug habit and is recovering well. Martin and Martina have contacted her family in Cali and arranged for her to now go live with her sister and mother there who are not crack heads. This is where she is going to go this Saturday night, but first we need to go pick her up.
Martin and Martina have bought her a cell phone and some minutes to contact her for this journey and to call them to inform as her safe arrival and her family when she was at the terminal. In Colombia it is pay as you go, not that contract bullshit we are forced into in the states. So they got her the phone as a going away gift. Just more genuine caring that they do.
As Martin and I are going to pick her up Martin point out to me a hill on our left and says that is Barrio Cazuca the most dangerous in Bogotá. He said not even the police go in there in small numbers. There are 2 dichos or sayings that they say about this area. "Entras si quieres, salgas si puedes" and " no llevas la machete, le da la machete" or in English "enter if you want, leave if you can" and "don't bring the machete they give you the machete".
Ok! So its a shady slum like that movie City of God. Good advice and well noted, I will not go there!
We then get to the spot where we are supposed to pick up Rosario and she is waiting with her baby in a dirty baby stroller, covered in mud. It will soon be apparent why. She is supposed to be ready to go from this meeting place. Martin then askes her where is the rest of her stuff? She said that no one would help her bring it down so we have to drive up to her house in Cazuca to go get it.
Martin looks at me nervously as we are already committed to get Rosario to the buss stop, so we have to go to this shady area to complete the mission. FUCK!
Martin proceeds to drive and she says not to worry as she is very well know and loved in this area, and God is with us and this area is a paradise on Gods great earth. Great a junkie conformed God freak. As we continue to drive up a hill through a slum, it seemed like her house was further and further up the hill. The road was not really a road either, more like a mud slip n' slide.
As we are climbing the hill the conversation was pretty much like this:
Martin" Aqui"
Rosario " No mas adelante, sigue"
Martin "Aqui"
Rosario " No, no por aca, mas adaelante"
We finally arrived and she passes Martin the baby, jumps out and runs into her shack. She proceeds to throw trashbags full of cloths into the back seat and a bunch of little kids are also carrying trashbags and putting them into the back seat. We back out and haul ass down the hill and out of the barrio.
We dropped Rosario off at the bus station and she called the next morning to let us know she made it safe to Cali. Hopefully she will start a new life and her son at least now has the opportunity to not grow up in a Favela.
That night we went out to drink a beer after the whole Rosario debacle, and Martin finally let me buy him a drink.
This couple went well beyond the call of duty to help a fellow human being and saved the life of a little boy. Growing up in that environment selling drugs and being a thug is all but inevitable.
This caring was apparent in the way that they took care of me in the few days before. But seeing what they had done for Rosario, was a big fat !
Fortunately I did not meet any crazy Guerrilla fighters nor anyone who wanted to kidnap me to do the Paseo de Millionario.
Not saying that they don't exist, but from my experience Colombia was a very friendly country glad to be rising out of the drug induced civil war of the past and embracing the future.
MAKE SURE YOU HAVE A YELLOW FEVER VACCINATION TO ENTER CENTRAL AMERICA FROM SOUTH AMERICA!
I never knew this was the case. They should tell you this when you buy a plane ticket. Get your shit together Taca!
I get to the airport in Bogotá an hour and a half before my flight, ignoring their advice of 3 hours. I go to the window to get my ticket and they ask me for my passport and my yellow fever certificate.
Me "What certificate?"
Her "To go to Costa Rica from here you need a certificate to get on the plane, with out it you can not go and should change your flight"
Me "Well Im getting on this flight, how do I get the certificate, can i do this here at the airport?"
Her " Yes but the vaccination needs to be in your blood stream for 10 days to take affect. You can get it but you will have to stay in Colombia for 10 days"
Now this does not work for me, I have a flight leaving for the states from Costa Rica in 5 days then go straight to Alaska, I gotta figure something out.
I go to the clinic and ask the girl working there for the vaccination. She said that she can give it to me and hopefully I can explain to the lady something and that they can let me on.
Ok I guess Ill try.
I go to back to the window and try to check in with a different lady and seemed in a big hurry as now there was like 50 minutes until my flight and I needed to go now as security is such a bitch. She said ok but I could not check my bag as baggage check for this flight is now closed and I had to run to the security. She then was about to hand me the ticket and then remembered to ask me for my passport and certificate. Shit I almost got away with it I thought. I gave her the documents and she said that this certificate is good but it was done today and I have to wait 10 days. I told her that I had the vaccine before but lost it and just got a new one. She told me to go get the girl at the clinic to write this on the certificate and they would let me on.
I ran back to the clinic and asked the girl to "find my previous vaccination in the system, and I would be grateful and love to help her how I could". She agreed and was able to find the record of my old vaccination I got on July 23 of 2004. I gave her all the aguardiente that I had in my bag, as I could not bring liquid on the plane, gave her my knives and some extra money I had. Well worth it! And thank god for the power of the dollar and some countries still working with a palm up!
I ran down to get my ticket and they said finally my certificate was good. I had to beg and plead with people to get me through the security lines as in Colombia they are a bitch. Im sure you understand why. First security like any normal airport. Then a thorough a customs process, then another security where they open your bags and do a body frisk.
As Im at the last security point, a girl from the airline comes and is screaming "Señor Gerson, Para San Jose"
Me: Si Voy!
I look at the guy with his hands in my bag like " Parce, dejame irme profa no llevo nada"
He understood and let me run to the terminal. I was the last to get on the plane and everyone was kinda looking at me like I was the asshole who didn't get to the airport 3 hours before my flight and didn't have my vaccination certificate.
Boy were they way off!
I entered Costa Rica with no problems, and Im pretty sure I didn't bring Yellow Fever! The good thing is I now have this certificate and I can now go to any dirty disease ridden country on the world!
It is an incredible how the mind works when it is forced to act in such a quick manner. Take away options and the brain will be forced to find a solution! Think fast!
Big ups to my old man too for answering my prayers!
THE LANDSCAPE IS BEAUTIFUL!
How can I go into beautiful green lush mountains, huge forests with waterfalls and cascades, big beautiful valleys, white beaches, jungles, awesome sunsets, rivers and all types of nice nature.
Well I just did.
Google image Colombia, its a really pretty country with everything, and Im over writing.
-IN CONCLUSION
Colombia is a great country and I am glad I was able to go and make my own opinion. That is the most important thing I learned on this journey. Nothing is more valuable than ones own instincts and experiences are priceless to help improve on this best of all intuitions!
I will be back to Colombia some day in the future, but with more time to explore and a valid yellow fever certificate!
Nos vemos pronto parces. Que chevére la cachimba!
miércoles, 3 de junio de 2009
Pirates of the Caribbean
I decided some time ago that since I have been living so close to South America (compared to the states) I really wanted to put my footprint on that continent. I have heard great things about Colombia from everyone who has been there, and horror stories from those who are clueless and have never been. I wanted to decide for my self.
Due to the Darien Gap, one of the wildest jungles on the earth, land travel across the southernmost point of the Panamanian isthmus is virtually impossible. Aside from being one of the thickest, wildest, untouched piece of wilderness on this planet, the only inhabitants are indigenous Indians who still live incredibly primitive, and FARC the Colombian gorilla fighters. Oh yea and thousands of different type of animals, including a shit load of malaria and dengue. The Panamerican Highway goes from Alaska down to Chile and only has one break, this is it.
Therefor the two logical means of getting from Central to South America are either air or sea ( it is possible to trek the Darien, but it is a bad idea and one must be out of their mind).
As air travel is quite boring and mundane, a sea adventure seemed like the sweeter option.
A pirats life for me!
This is quite common with travelers and there are often boats leaving from parts of Panama that arrive in parts of Colombia.
I found a catamaran, Ashanti, with its Captain Henry which was leaving in a few days, so I singed up and waited. Henry is a 50+ German sailor, probably the son of an Third Reich SS soldier. He is now living the lonely life of a sailor and it will soon be apparent why. Calling him socially awkward does not come close to doing the justice.
With a few days to go till I take off from the city I didn't have much to do as I had been around and seen all the sites. I proceeded to engage in one of my favorite pastimes, Binge Drinking. This continued up until and beyond Friday morning when I met at the pickup spot at 5AM to go to the boat. I met two of my fellow sailors, Nile and James, 2 British Blokes who were not traveling together, but randomly I get stuck with a bunch of Brits.
James has been a dive instructor in Bocas Del Torro and Dominical (get familiar with geography or look at a map) and he is a chillaxed surfer type dude, but British, which was a trip. And Nile (like the river) a prepubescent 19 year old traveling the Americas and trying to grow body hair.
We get to the boat in Carti, San Blas and we are greeted by another mate from the UK, Mat. This dude has been traveling all over the world, starting in Japan, did all of the orient and SE Asia and has now made his way down from the Bay Area.
When we boarded the sail boat, I thought Mat was the first mate, and greeted him with a very casually ¨Yo what up fool¨ as I would any amigo especially in my still inebriated state. He looks at me in shock and says in a funny British accent ¨ is that a term of endearment where your from¨ I told him yea and to stop trippin and help me with the bags and to hit the bottle of rum, he immediately followed my orders.
He also informed us to take of our sandals as the captain is incredibly anal about everything and that he will be back to demonstrate this character trait in a few minutes as he just left on the dingy to go get water and random supplys that are to last us the 5 days at sea.
At this point in time we decided that we need to talk to this guy Henry as we did not really have any clue what the deal was, and only that this guy should be taking us to Cartegena and we should get there in about 4-5 days. We had also said that we wanted to discuss the price and what was expected of us, like were we just chillin on the boat, or are we the crew? Either one would be cool, but we were very uninformed and needed to know como era la vara.
So Henry rolls up with a bunch of bottles of water and some tomatos and yells at us to go to the front and start passing the jugs and filling up the water tank. We follow directions, and it becomes apparent we are the crew.
We had decided as a group in the previous 10 minutes that if we were indeed the crew we could use this as a bargaining chip and try to get the price of the trip down. After filling the tank, bringing the dingy on board, and putting the bags away Henry proceeds to ask for passports and money. We bring up the point that this trip was explained to us as a holiday vacation and that if we were to be working could we get a discount.
Henry freaks out and is astonished at the fact that we would ask such a thing and in his mind we seemed like this group of whinny bitches who couldn't handle manning a ship. Our plan kind of backfired and got us off on a bad foot.
Henry:¨I can not believe I am having this conversation, what is this Kindergarten¨
Us: ¨Tranquilo Guebon, we just want to know whats the deal, as we have know info, so know we know the deal, Chill!¨
A great way to start a long joinery in a small boat about to be away from land for a few days. Thank God he did not know I am a Jew.
Shit cooled off and I took it upon me to make the situation chill and handle it and make it smooth, as I do! I calmed him down to the best of my ability and told the other mates that it would be cool. I mean whats the worst that could happen?
We then pulled up anchor, hoisted the sail, kicked the engine, and took off for our first destination, Porvenir Island in San Blas. This is where we need to get our exit stamps from Panama and some document that allows him to sail into Colombian waters.
Henry is showing us how to do things on the catamaran and he appoints me driver, and then takes the others to the port side of the bow and starts showing them how to work the boom and mast and all that.
Did he not smell the liquor on my breath, or rather see me carrying around the bottle of rum the whole time we were working? Whatever I don't think I'm gonna get a BUI in the Caribbean, well hopefully right.
We start to pull up to the Port after a few hours and Henry takes over driving. We drop anchor and the dingy and Henry takes off to the island with all our passports and to get the document. He comes back about 30 minutes later, and said
¨We have a big problem, the only guy who can stamp the passports left early today and wont be back until Tuesday, but hes going to fax a paper over that gives us permission to leave, but we can not get stamps, you are on the list as crew so you have permission and don't need the passports stamped, we shall still go!¨
¨Wait what?¨
At this point I am a bit wigged out as this guy is making his first journey from these particular ports, is acting like an AWOL U-boat captain, and we are trusting him with our lives, not only on the sea, but to get us into Colombia a country with revolutionary problems with out problems? I need another swig of rum!
The group seems to think it will be fine, Henry as well, so we sail on.
We drop anchor at our first island where we will be staying the night before taking off to the next one in the morning. We will then hit high water and will not see land for a few days.
At this point Henry and James are butting heads as James is down to work but is not having Henry´s attitude.
We could feel the water boiling.
Henry accuse James of being a lazy bitch, and James starts talking shit. Henry comes up chest to chest and then suddenly Henry shoves James off the boat!!!
We all look at each other astonished and at a loss of words. James was literally and physically just thrown off the boat.
James gets up on the boat and surprisingly calmly tells Henry how irresponsible, inexperienced, and unprofessional he is, and that he is staying on the island and wants his money back.
Henry agrees but makes James write and sign a declaration stating he is leaving on his own will.
Swig of rum.
Luckily a little Kuna boat is approaching and James flags them down and get on and takes off!
I take another swig of rum.
This was all within 5 minutes, and thank God that Kuna boat passed or who knows what kind of shit would have hit the fan.
We proceed to discuss these issues we had with Henry with him over a few drinks that night, and try to settle down. I dont know how much registered but Mat was very helpful and calm, great help in the situation.
We get up in the morning to one of the most beautiful island back drops in the world and forget all about the night before and the hangover I should have. Oh wait I'm still buzzin! However the feeling is serene!
That wears off soon, as we proceed to the sea and I start to get woozy. I go pull the trigger, get some toxins out, lay down, drink some water, pull the trigger, eat some fruit, jump in the water, and try to man up and grow some sea legs.
I did it and it was better.
Henry then casually informs us that we will each have to make a 2 hour night shift in the cockpit each night, making sure the boat does not crash. What?
¨Yes¨he said ¨The boat will be driving on auto pilot, but we always need to have someone making sure that we dont hit another boat and watch the depth and currents. You remember I showed you how to work the instruments?¨
¨Uh yea I guess we can do that, did you ever think of providing the hostals with this information to tell the passengers beforehand? So they can mentally prepare right?¨
He looks at me like Im a pussy.
We could not do anything right, weather it be cooking, cleaning, manning the wench, raising the sail, or taking a piss of the back.
He even got upset with me as I was singing,
Yo no soy marinero,
Yo no soy marinero,
Soy Capitan
Soy Capitan
Dude was the Gestapo!
After a few days of this we are approaching the port in Cartegena and Henry then decides he wants to tell me something.
¨Brandon, I know you speak Spanish, but let me speak to port authority, regrading the non stamps and funny faxed document, don´t say anything!¨
Now I had thought about this, if something were to occur I would play dumb to the fact that we did not even get our passports stamped, explain how he demanded them right off the bad and I did not know anything about the situation and trusted him, and if needed, let me pay the fine (bribe) to let me get the entry stamp and leave the boat and be on my way.
To Henrys credit I guess, we enter the port get our stamps after a few hours, and bounce.
What an experience! I learned a lot on this 4 day adventure. How to deal with different people in close quarters, how to be mature enough to deal with an unideal situation out of necessity, gained some sea legs, and last but not least, how to sail a bit.
In the end I must say and recommend to anyone who asks how to get to Colombia from Panama..... is there any question, dont be a pussy and sail!!!!
Yoho Yoho a pirates life for me
Due to the Darien Gap, one of the wildest jungles on the earth, land travel across the southernmost point of the Panamanian isthmus is virtually impossible. Aside from being one of the thickest, wildest, untouched piece of wilderness on this planet, the only inhabitants are indigenous Indians who still live incredibly primitive, and FARC the Colombian gorilla fighters. Oh yea and thousands of different type of animals, including a shit load of malaria and dengue. The Panamerican Highway goes from Alaska down to Chile and only has one break, this is it.
Therefor the two logical means of getting from Central to South America are either air or sea ( it is possible to trek the Darien, but it is a bad idea and one must be out of their mind).
As air travel is quite boring and mundane, a sea adventure seemed like the sweeter option.
A pirats life for me!
This is quite common with travelers and there are often boats leaving from parts of Panama that arrive in parts of Colombia.
I found a catamaran, Ashanti, with its Captain Henry which was leaving in a few days, so I singed up and waited. Henry is a 50+ German sailor, probably the son of an Third Reich SS soldier. He is now living the lonely life of a sailor and it will soon be apparent why. Calling him socially awkward does not come close to doing the justice.
With a few days to go till I take off from the city I didn't have much to do as I had been around and seen all the sites. I proceeded to engage in one of my favorite pastimes, Binge Drinking. This continued up until and beyond Friday morning when I met at the pickup spot at 5AM to go to the boat. I met two of my fellow sailors, Nile and James, 2 British Blokes who were not traveling together, but randomly I get stuck with a bunch of Brits.
James has been a dive instructor in Bocas Del Torro and Dominical (get familiar with geography or look at a map) and he is a chillaxed surfer type dude, but British, which was a trip. And Nile (like the river) a prepubescent 19 year old traveling the Americas and trying to grow body hair.
We get to the boat in Carti, San Blas and we are greeted by another mate from the UK, Mat. This dude has been traveling all over the world, starting in Japan, did all of the orient and SE Asia and has now made his way down from the Bay Area.
When we boarded the sail boat, I thought Mat was the first mate, and greeted him with a very casually ¨Yo what up fool¨ as I would any amigo especially in my still inebriated state. He looks at me in shock and says in a funny British accent ¨ is that a term of endearment where your from¨ I told him yea and to stop trippin and help me with the bags and to hit the bottle of rum, he immediately followed my orders.
He also informed us to take of our sandals as the captain is incredibly anal about everything and that he will be back to demonstrate this character trait in a few minutes as he just left on the dingy to go get water and random supplys that are to last us the 5 days at sea.
At this point in time we decided that we need to talk to this guy Henry as we did not really have any clue what the deal was, and only that this guy should be taking us to Cartegena and we should get there in about 4-5 days. We had also said that we wanted to discuss the price and what was expected of us, like were we just chillin on the boat, or are we the crew? Either one would be cool, but we were very uninformed and needed to know como era la vara.
So Henry rolls up with a bunch of bottles of water and some tomatos and yells at us to go to the front and start passing the jugs and filling up the water tank. We follow directions, and it becomes apparent we are the crew.
We had decided as a group in the previous 10 minutes that if we were indeed the crew we could use this as a bargaining chip and try to get the price of the trip down. After filling the tank, bringing the dingy on board, and putting the bags away Henry proceeds to ask for passports and money. We bring up the point that this trip was explained to us as a holiday vacation and that if we were to be working could we get a discount.
Henry freaks out and is astonished at the fact that we would ask such a thing and in his mind we seemed like this group of whinny bitches who couldn't handle manning a ship. Our plan kind of backfired and got us off on a bad foot.
Henry:¨I can not believe I am having this conversation, what is this Kindergarten¨
Us: ¨Tranquilo Guebon, we just want to know whats the deal, as we have know info, so know we know the deal, Chill!¨
A great way to start a long joinery in a small boat about to be away from land for a few days. Thank God he did not know I am a Jew.
Shit cooled off and I took it upon me to make the situation chill and handle it and make it smooth, as I do! I calmed him down to the best of my ability and told the other mates that it would be cool. I mean whats the worst that could happen?
We then pulled up anchor, hoisted the sail, kicked the engine, and took off for our first destination, Porvenir Island in San Blas. This is where we need to get our exit stamps from Panama and some document that allows him to sail into Colombian waters.
Henry is showing us how to do things on the catamaran and he appoints me driver, and then takes the others to the port side of the bow and starts showing them how to work the boom and mast and all that.
Did he not smell the liquor on my breath, or rather see me carrying around the bottle of rum the whole time we were working? Whatever I don't think I'm gonna get a BUI in the Caribbean, well hopefully right.
We start to pull up to the Port after a few hours and Henry takes over driving. We drop anchor and the dingy and Henry takes off to the island with all our passports and to get the document. He comes back about 30 minutes later, and said
¨We have a big problem, the only guy who can stamp the passports left early today and wont be back until Tuesday, but hes going to fax a paper over that gives us permission to leave, but we can not get stamps, you are on the list as crew so you have permission and don't need the passports stamped, we shall still go!¨
¨Wait what?¨
At this point I am a bit wigged out as this guy is making his first journey from these particular ports, is acting like an AWOL U-boat captain, and we are trusting him with our lives, not only on the sea, but to get us into Colombia a country with revolutionary problems with out problems? I need another swig of rum!
The group seems to think it will be fine, Henry as well, so we sail on.
We drop anchor at our first island where we will be staying the night before taking off to the next one in the morning. We will then hit high water and will not see land for a few days.
At this point Henry and James are butting heads as James is down to work but is not having Henry´s attitude.
We could feel the water boiling.
Henry accuse James of being a lazy bitch, and James starts talking shit. Henry comes up chest to chest and then suddenly Henry shoves James off the boat!!!
We all look at each other astonished and at a loss of words. James was literally and physically just thrown off the boat.
James gets up on the boat and surprisingly calmly tells Henry how irresponsible, inexperienced, and unprofessional he is, and that he is staying on the island and wants his money back.
Henry agrees but makes James write and sign a declaration stating he is leaving on his own will.
Swig of rum.
Luckily a little Kuna boat is approaching and James flags them down and get on and takes off!
I take another swig of rum.
This was all within 5 minutes, and thank God that Kuna boat passed or who knows what kind of shit would have hit the fan.
We proceed to discuss these issues we had with Henry with him over a few drinks that night, and try to settle down. I dont know how much registered but Mat was very helpful and calm, great help in the situation.
We get up in the morning to one of the most beautiful island back drops in the world and forget all about the night before and the hangover I should have. Oh wait I'm still buzzin! However the feeling is serene!
That wears off soon, as we proceed to the sea and I start to get woozy. I go pull the trigger, get some toxins out, lay down, drink some water, pull the trigger, eat some fruit, jump in the water, and try to man up and grow some sea legs.
I did it and it was better.
Henry then casually informs us that we will each have to make a 2 hour night shift in the cockpit each night, making sure the boat does not crash. What?
¨Yes¨he said ¨The boat will be driving on auto pilot, but we always need to have someone making sure that we dont hit another boat and watch the depth and currents. You remember I showed you how to work the instruments?¨
¨Uh yea I guess we can do that, did you ever think of providing the hostals with this information to tell the passengers beforehand? So they can mentally prepare right?¨
He looks at me like Im a pussy.
We could not do anything right, weather it be cooking, cleaning, manning the wench, raising the sail, or taking a piss of the back.
He even got upset with me as I was singing,
Yo no soy marinero,
Yo no soy marinero,
Soy Capitan
Soy Capitan
Dude was the Gestapo!
After a few days of this we are approaching the port in Cartegena and Henry then decides he wants to tell me something.
¨Brandon, I know you speak Spanish, but let me speak to port authority, regrading the non stamps and funny faxed document, don´t say anything!¨
Now I had thought about this, if something were to occur I would play dumb to the fact that we did not even get our passports stamped, explain how he demanded them right off the bad and I did not know anything about the situation and trusted him, and if needed, let me pay the fine (bribe) to let me get the entry stamp and leave the boat and be on my way.
To Henrys credit I guess, we enter the port get our stamps after a few hours, and bounce.
What an experience! I learned a lot on this 4 day adventure. How to deal with different people in close quarters, how to be mature enough to deal with an unideal situation out of necessity, gained some sea legs, and last but not least, how to sail a bit.
In the end I must say and recommend to anyone who asks how to get to Colombia from Panama..... is there any question, dont be a pussy and sail!!!!
Yoho Yoho a pirates life for me
sábado, 23 de mayo de 2009
San Blas
So its a little island archipelago on the Caribbean coast of Panama. It is very sweet, and if I want to be cheesy I would say San Blas is a blast. So this entry will be more to inform, as before I went I attempted to research about this mysterious place, but for one of the very few times in my life the Internet and my guide book let me down.
For some reason the info on is archipelago was not helpful, nor that accurate, and it was kind of a struggle to figure shit out...or I just didn't have the right resources. So first if you want to go, don't even think about flying. You are much better off getting a round trip in a 4x4 which can be arranged for you by any of the youth hostel. Ask for Junior, hes legit! They come pick you up at 5AM any you make a few little stops, to get breakfast and any last minute supplies, and then you arrive at the little port or the spot where the canoe picks you up you board and then take off to the islands.
A few things to know first. The islands are inhabited by Kuna Indians, an indigenous people. They live very primitive in huts with no potable water and live on fish and rice. They do however do get shipments of soda, beer, water, and marijuana to sell to the visitors. I indulged in two. Guess which?
They make their living on the tourists by selling them random things they need or want, including jewlery and traditional cloths and stuff like that. They are very conservative speaking their native toung and some spanish. The men all speak Spanish and the women who are fortunate enough to go to school do to. Thankfully times have changed and all of the younger women now go to school and all of the kids learn, Kuna, Spanish, and some English.
Make sure you negotiate your price for staying on the islands first, before you take off. You don't have to pay until your trip is over and they take you back to the drop off area. The dude tried to charge me 25$ per night but I schisted him and pulled a maneuver. I am nice like that, and if you go I suggest trying something. Be creative!
Also it is recommended to bring food to "munch on" or just to eat, as the food they provide you with, will keep you alive, but it is far from good. I would say tolerable for a day but I would not rely on that. Bring canned food and stuff that wont perish in a short time. Tuna, canned veggies, chips, apples, oranges, salt, pepper, and the like.
The first spot I went to was Isla el Diablo. Real rocky but a jungley island. The water wasn't that great for bathing/swimming due to all the rocks. It was sweet however to hand the hammock that the natives lent me, and drink Flor de Canas and pass out.
Next mooring I had some of the Kunas take me to Isla Pelican. This island was probably about 2,000 meters squared ( You could fit at least 2 on an American football field). This was the most private beautiful island I have ever seen in my life including pictures. There was this turquoise ring around the island and then a deep blue all of the sudden as the depth went from about 7 feet to 25 suddenly around the whole island. It was an underwater cliff that was around the whole thing. Too cool for words.
Stayed there for the night, then took off the next day to Isla Ansuelo. Bigger, awesome sunset and closer to the main port.
As I was in the car returning, accompanying me was this dude from Israel who had the worst mosquito bites I have ever seen. He was on Robinson Island, and that is the most popular. Thats the party island, which was not what I was after. I would say if you go, bring mad replant and make sure it works, as many of them don't.
Yea so theres a bit of info. Hopefully the next person who wants to go can find this and not be as confused. Lonely Planet get your shit together.
Much love to Panama, another great country on the vast planet of ours.
PS If picturs wernt so God damn incriminating I would take some. I gotta keep my chances alive incase I ever do want to run for office. Or I could just go the gangster rought and be a dictator......
For some reason the info on is archipelago was not helpful, nor that accurate, and it was kind of a struggle to figure shit out...or I just didn't have the right resources. So first if you want to go, don't even think about flying. You are much better off getting a round trip in a 4x4 which can be arranged for you by any of the youth hostel. Ask for Junior, hes legit! They come pick you up at 5AM any you make a few little stops, to get breakfast and any last minute supplies, and then you arrive at the little port or the spot where the canoe picks you up you board and then take off to the islands.
A few things to know first. The islands are inhabited by Kuna Indians, an indigenous people. They live very primitive in huts with no potable water and live on fish and rice. They do however do get shipments of soda, beer, water, and marijuana to sell to the visitors. I indulged in two. Guess which?
They make their living on the tourists by selling them random things they need or want, including jewlery and traditional cloths and stuff like that. They are very conservative speaking their native toung and some spanish. The men all speak Spanish and the women who are fortunate enough to go to school do to. Thankfully times have changed and all of the younger women now go to school and all of the kids learn, Kuna, Spanish, and some English.
Make sure you negotiate your price for staying on the islands first, before you take off. You don't have to pay until your trip is over and they take you back to the drop off area. The dude tried to charge me 25$ per night but I schisted him and pulled a maneuver. I am nice like that, and if you go I suggest trying something. Be creative!
Also it is recommended to bring food to "munch on" or just to eat, as the food they provide you with, will keep you alive, but it is far from good. I would say tolerable for a day but I would not rely on that. Bring canned food and stuff that wont perish in a short time. Tuna, canned veggies, chips, apples, oranges, salt, pepper, and the like.
The first spot I went to was Isla el Diablo. Real rocky but a jungley island. The water wasn't that great for bathing/swimming due to all the rocks. It was sweet however to hand the hammock that the natives lent me, and drink Flor de Canas and pass out.
Next mooring I had some of the Kunas take me to Isla Pelican. This island was probably about 2,000 meters squared ( You could fit at least 2 on an American football field). This was the most private beautiful island I have ever seen in my life including pictures. There was this turquoise ring around the island and then a deep blue all of the sudden as the depth went from about 7 feet to 25 suddenly around the whole island. It was an underwater cliff that was around the whole thing. Too cool for words.
Stayed there for the night, then took off the next day to Isla Ansuelo. Bigger, awesome sunset and closer to the main port.
As I was in the car returning, accompanying me was this dude from Israel who had the worst mosquito bites I have ever seen. He was on Robinson Island, and that is the most popular. Thats the party island, which was not what I was after. I would say if you go, bring mad replant and make sure it works, as many of them don't.
Yea so theres a bit of info. Hopefully the next person who wants to go can find this and not be as confused. Lonely Planet get your shit together.
Much love to Panama, another great country on the vast planet of ours.
PS If picturs wernt so God damn incriminating I would take some. I gotta keep my chances alive incase I ever do want to run for office. Or I could just go the gangster rought and be a dictator......
domingo, 17 de mayo de 2009
My last 100 hours
I spit a story backwards I start at the ending.
.South travel I before, Saco at days last My
Sunday 5AM Casco Viejo, Panama City:
I just got into my buddy Kens Milburn place in Panama city. I ask the first taxi guy to take me here and he declined and told me to wait till the morning, as he doesn't want to drive there in the dark. Great, Ken lives in a shady area. He forwarned me of this, and said that the bario right near it was El Chorillo, and that is the shady part. He said he would be waiting for me in the lobby, which he was and I entered without any drama.
12 Midnight Santiago, Panama:
The bus stop at a soda restaurant as they do about every 4 hours for a little break. I walk through the buffet line to get some food. I order a plate of chicken and fries, with a pear juice. Cost $3 as in Panama the national currency is the Dollar. I ask for salsa de tomate which is what they call ketchup in Costa Rica, the lady looks at me funny and said, "Ketchup", I said "si" She handed me 3 packets of Heinz!!! Awesome!!! The salsa de tomate in Costa Rica tastes like tomato paste and sugar, the only way I eat it is to mix it with hot sauce. I finally got real ketchup. 3 dollar meal and real ketchup, so far Panama so good!
8 PM Saturday Costa Rica/Panama border:
Fairly simple border crossing process. Get my exit stamp:Free. Panama entry sticker: $1. Panamanian visa:$5. The guy who was supposed to check bags at customs, was not around so they let us pass. Done, Im in Panama.
10 AM Saturday San Jose:
I get off the bus from Bagaces and take a taxi to the Panamanian express terminal. I buy a ticket for $25 to take me from capital to capital. I wait in the lobby until the buss leaves at Noon.
5:30 Am Saturday Bagaces:
I wake up, write a note on the white board, to say whats up to whoever ends up in the Synagog, grab my bag and head out. I stop by JJ's to tap on his window as that crazy fool got up to watch Arsenal draw with Manchester U, as Manny U got another title, sorry Bro. I grabbed him and made him walk to the parada and do some unstressin. I gave him my key and few instructions, we gave a little abrazo and said peace.
12:30 AM The street we all live on, Bagaces:
Struggleing to drag the bitty home, Ella estaba un pocita picada, y bein turca. Euphemism!
9 PM Friday Las Tejas, Bagaces:
We meet up with the gang to celebrate Kate's Birthday. Drink some pilsens do a tequila shot with her for her and do the standard Tejas stuff. Solo Bueno.
3:30 PM Friday BDC, Bagaces:
Last game of disk until I return to Bagaces. We play teams. Jeff and I are the Gringo B-team, however at Tittyair even the B-team is titty. Aaron and JJ are Gringo A-team (I pity the fool), and Randal and Mario are team Tico. B-team are always heavy underdogs but this day we held our own. We finished with par, I think our best team outing. We even finished the front 9 one under. A-team won with 5 under and that won them a caja de cervezas (24 beers) as they took the 2 out of 3 series from the Ticos. The point is that B-team is getting good!
1 PM Friday Saco, Bagaces:
I finally make it in to my last day of work. Give Alexis my Basket Ball, as he gave me this sweet Costa Rica National Soccer futbol jersey the week before. JJ got me a Guatemalan "Playera" when he went back, and all the Ticos were ragging on me for representing Guatemala and not Costa Rica. I said to Alexis it was a gift from a Guatemalan, and why hadn't
a Tico given me a soccer jersey to wear first? Then next day Alexis brought me one. Gracias Don Alexis solo calidad. I finish up a few projects I had lingering, sent out some emails, said "hasta luego" so some co-workers, and took it all in.
10 AM Friday The Synagog, Bagaces:
Woke up feeling pretty bent from the Gerson Goes Goodbye party the night before. Gathered my self, re-checked my bag to make sure I had everything ready, Took the bitty out to lunch and went to Saco.
12:30 AM Friday Randal and Emer's, Bagaces:
A Dudes Bien Tuanis Production in the making, yes we also throw parties, freaking sweet ones too. BDC presents Gerson Goes Goodbye, part one. Poker in the front liquor in the rear. I didn't get in on the gambling as I was DJaying, freestyling and entertaining. Bullshitted with Emer and Jess, spat some with Jeffry Cowface and some other mops, pegando la concha, y charlando con la bala, me calle bien este mae!
9:45 PM Las Tejas, Bagaces:
Las Tejas after futbol, standard crew. Have a long conversation with "Cholo" at the bar about how I have broken his negative stereotype of Gringos and how he loves me. This is a good thing, because if I were to ever get into a fight in Bagaces (very unlikely) I would want this beast of a man on my side. Honestly this is standard love I get from Bagaceños all the time.
7 PM Thursday, El Gymnasio, Bagaces:
We play futbol (Soccer) in the gym every Thursday evening. Normally everyone just shows up and teams are formed. It is futbol cinco, so 5 on 5 including the goalie. If there are four teams we play first goal wins and the new team enters, winners stay, this was the case this Thursday. This week however we decided to make a Gringo team, and show up in matching jerseys. We are Dudes Bien Tuanis, Aaron Sweeper, Justin Goal and Defense, JJ Forward, Jeff Goal and whatever, Me Midfielder and Wingman, and our sub and honorary Gringo, Mario Forward (surprisingly he can play quite well and even had a sweet bicycle kick shot attempt) . Because we declared this earlier in the week, the gym had a good amount of spectators show up to see the Gringos play. Word travels fast in Bagaces. So we lose our first few games, and were good matches but we couldn't score. We finally get our shit together and JJ puts his own rebound back in for our first win. The crowd in cheering and we are pumped. We loose the next game but it was a good one. Then at our next entry JJ scores again. Nice we are starting to get the hang of it. Next match I have a kick that the goal keeper blocks with the rebound right to me. I re-blast it at the goal and score. THE CROWD GOES NUTS! JJ comes up and hugs me and then Aaron. Like a real world cup game there was so much emotion. It was such a sick feeling, I don't score that often maybe once every few weeks, but this was team gringo and we are by far the worst team, as these maes live futbol. It was very cool to feel the love that everyone had for me, my teammates, the other teams, and the fans who showed up to watch. Bagaces Kicks Ass!
10 AM Thursday, Saco, Bagaces:
Work and stuff. JJ is busy making the T-shirt Jerseys that we will wear in the Majanga (futbol 5) tonight. Printing out mad iron on stickers and ironing them on to our shirts.
8 PM Wednesday, The Bagaces Synagog:
DBT begin our rap which still has no name. JJ got a sick beat off Freeloops and put a dope guitar rift to it. We are chillen for a good 5 hours rapping over and over again into a mic hooked up to JJ's computer. Lots of Litros de Pilsen y peggando purros. We even got two bitties to sing the hook, a Latina on the Spanish part and a Gringa on the English part.
Si tu eres un mop
y te gusta hip hop
Escupimos fuego y esa varas muy hot
So dudes listen up
Cuz its real what we got
No one ever said to start
So theres no need to sto....
You better get that shit working Jota!!
6:30 PM Wednesday,KT's Chicken House, Bagaces:
Waiting for happy hour. Pilsen, disk talk, and the DBT rap session coming up.
4:30 PM Wednesday, BDC:
Last league night for me before I bounce. I go out in style. I shoot a + 4 by far my best solo round, I tied with Aaron, and didn't get last for the first time. Dudes give me props.
This is Brandon, leave it, Peace!
* Side notes
The Bagaces Synagog is Justin and My appartment. We are probably the first Jews to ever live in Bagaces let alone together. Therefore it is reffered to as the Synagog. Too bad we don't have a Mezuzah.
A majenga is a pick up game, normally used for futbol sala, or on an indoor stadium.
I am on a lack of sleep as I suck at it, and on a buss all night does not help. This must be right though as I just had deja vu as I just wrote "not help". I had a lot more details I wanted to put in but Im a bit out of it.
Iinform more on Panama as it comes up.
.South travel I before, Saco at days last My
Sunday 5AM Casco Viejo, Panama City:
I just got into my buddy Kens Milburn place in Panama city. I ask the first taxi guy to take me here and he declined and told me to wait till the morning, as he doesn't want to drive there in the dark. Great, Ken lives in a shady area. He forwarned me of this, and said that the bario right near it was El Chorillo, and that is the shady part. He said he would be waiting for me in the lobby, which he was and I entered without any drama.
12 Midnight Santiago, Panama:
The bus stop at a soda restaurant as they do about every 4 hours for a little break. I walk through the buffet line to get some food. I order a plate of chicken and fries, with a pear juice. Cost $3 as in Panama the national currency is the Dollar. I ask for salsa de tomate which is what they call ketchup in Costa Rica, the lady looks at me funny and said, "Ketchup", I said "si" She handed me 3 packets of Heinz!!! Awesome!!! The salsa de tomate in Costa Rica tastes like tomato paste and sugar, the only way I eat it is to mix it with hot sauce. I finally got real ketchup. 3 dollar meal and real ketchup, so far Panama so good!
8 PM Saturday Costa Rica/Panama border:
Fairly simple border crossing process. Get my exit stamp:Free. Panama entry sticker: $1. Panamanian visa:$5. The guy who was supposed to check bags at customs, was not around so they let us pass. Done, Im in Panama.
10 AM Saturday San Jose:
I get off the bus from Bagaces and take a taxi to the Panamanian express terminal. I buy a ticket for $25 to take me from capital to capital. I wait in the lobby until the buss leaves at Noon.
5:30 Am Saturday Bagaces:
I wake up, write a note on the white board, to say whats up to whoever ends up in the Synagog, grab my bag and head out. I stop by JJ's to tap on his window as that crazy fool got up to watch Arsenal draw with Manchester U, as Manny U got another title, sorry Bro. I grabbed him and made him walk to the parada and do some unstressin. I gave him my key and few instructions, we gave a little abrazo and said peace.
12:30 AM The street we all live on, Bagaces:
Struggleing to drag the bitty home, Ella estaba un pocita picada, y bein turca. Euphemism!
9 PM Friday Las Tejas, Bagaces:
We meet up with the gang to celebrate Kate's Birthday. Drink some pilsens do a tequila shot with her for her and do the standard Tejas stuff. Solo Bueno.
3:30 PM Friday BDC, Bagaces:
Last game of disk until I return to Bagaces. We play teams. Jeff and I are the Gringo B-team, however at Tittyair even the B-team is titty. Aaron and JJ are Gringo A-team (I pity the fool), and Randal and Mario are team Tico. B-team are always heavy underdogs but this day we held our own. We finished with par, I think our best team outing. We even finished the front 9 one under. A-team won with 5 under and that won them a caja de cervezas (24 beers) as they took the 2 out of 3 series from the Ticos. The point is that B-team is getting good!
1 PM Friday Saco, Bagaces:
I finally make it in to my last day of work. Give Alexis my Basket Ball, as he gave me this sweet Costa Rica National Soccer futbol jersey the week before. JJ got me a Guatemalan "Playera" when he went back, and all the Ticos were ragging on me for representing Guatemala and not Costa Rica. I said to Alexis it was a gift from a Guatemalan, and why hadn't
a Tico given me a soccer jersey to wear first? Then next day Alexis brought me one. Gracias Don Alexis solo calidad. I finish up a few projects I had lingering, sent out some emails, said "hasta luego" so some co-workers, and took it all in.
10 AM Friday The Synagog, Bagaces:
Woke up feeling pretty bent from the Gerson Goes Goodbye party the night before. Gathered my self, re-checked my bag to make sure I had everything ready, Took the bitty out to lunch and went to Saco.
12:30 AM Friday Randal and Emer's, Bagaces:
A Dudes Bien Tuanis Production in the making, yes we also throw parties, freaking sweet ones too. BDC presents Gerson Goes Goodbye, part one. Poker in the front liquor in the rear. I didn't get in on the gambling as I was DJaying, freestyling and entertaining. Bullshitted with Emer and Jess, spat some with Jeffry Cowface and some other mops, pegando la concha, y charlando con la bala, me calle bien este mae!
9:45 PM Las Tejas, Bagaces:
Las Tejas after futbol, standard crew. Have a long conversation with "Cholo" at the bar about how I have broken his negative stereotype of Gringos and how he loves me. This is a good thing, because if I were to ever get into a fight in Bagaces (very unlikely) I would want this beast of a man on my side. Honestly this is standard love I get from Bagaceños all the time.
7 PM Thursday, El Gymnasio, Bagaces:
We play futbol (Soccer) in the gym every Thursday evening. Normally everyone just shows up and teams are formed. It is futbol cinco, so 5 on 5 including the goalie. If there are four teams we play first goal wins and the new team enters, winners stay, this was the case this Thursday. This week however we decided to make a Gringo team, and show up in matching jerseys. We are Dudes Bien Tuanis, Aaron Sweeper, Justin Goal and Defense, JJ Forward, Jeff Goal and whatever, Me Midfielder and Wingman, and our sub and honorary Gringo, Mario Forward (surprisingly he can play quite well and even had a sweet bicycle kick shot attempt) . Because we declared this earlier in the week, the gym had a good amount of spectators show up to see the Gringos play. Word travels fast in Bagaces. So we lose our first few games, and were good matches but we couldn't score. We finally get our shit together and JJ puts his own rebound back in for our first win. The crowd in cheering and we are pumped. We loose the next game but it was a good one. Then at our next entry JJ scores again. Nice we are starting to get the hang of it. Next match I have a kick that the goal keeper blocks with the rebound right to me. I re-blast it at the goal and score. THE CROWD GOES NUTS! JJ comes up and hugs me and then Aaron. Like a real world cup game there was so much emotion. It was such a sick feeling, I don't score that often maybe once every few weeks, but this was team gringo and we are by far the worst team, as these maes live futbol. It was very cool to feel the love that everyone had for me, my teammates, the other teams, and the fans who showed up to watch. Bagaces Kicks Ass!
10 AM Thursday, Saco, Bagaces:
Work and stuff. JJ is busy making the T-shirt Jerseys that we will wear in the Majanga (futbol 5) tonight. Printing out mad iron on stickers and ironing them on to our shirts.
8 PM Wednesday, The Bagaces Synagog:
DBT begin our rap which still has no name. JJ got a sick beat off Freeloops and put a dope guitar rift to it. We are chillen for a good 5 hours rapping over and over again into a mic hooked up to JJ's computer. Lots of Litros de Pilsen y peggando purros. We even got two bitties to sing the hook, a Latina on the Spanish part and a Gringa on the English part.
Si tu eres un mop
y te gusta hip hop
Escupimos fuego y esa varas muy hot
So dudes listen up
Cuz its real what we got
No one ever said to start
So theres no need to sto....
You better get that shit working Jota!!
6:30 PM Wednesday,KT's Chicken House, Bagaces:
Waiting for happy hour. Pilsen, disk talk, and the DBT rap session coming up.
4:30 PM Wednesday, BDC:
Last league night for me before I bounce. I go out in style. I shoot a + 4 by far my best solo round, I tied with Aaron, and didn't get last for the first time. Dudes give me props.
This is Brandon, leave it, Peace!
* Side notes
The Bagaces Synagog is Justin and My appartment. We are probably the first Jews to ever live in Bagaces let alone together. Therefore it is reffered to as the Synagog. Too bad we don't have a Mezuzah.
A majenga is a pick up game, normally used for futbol sala, or on an indoor stadium.
I am on a lack of sleep as I suck at it, and on a buss all night does not help. This must be right though as I just had deja vu as I just wrote "not help". I had a lot more details I wanted to put in but Im a bit out of it.
Iinform more on Panama as it comes up.
lunes, 11 de mayo de 2009
Disk Golf in the Pouring Rain
I refer to it as disk golf, and would never insult myself, my friends, or the game by saying we play frisbee golf. I can't think of stupider word than Frisbee, well maybe platypus, but don't even get me started on that beast!
The word frisbee comes from the Frisbee Pie Company, a bakery in Connecticut, who gained fame providing Union solders with baked goods during the Civil war. Fast forward a century and a bunch of Ivy League geniuses start throwing these tins around, and a new leisure activity is born. Now to be honest I would much rather associate our game with a much cooler Discus Throw of the ancient Greek era, than that of some stoned granola kids throwing around pie tins. So for sake of argument, we play disk, and are Greek warriors!
So for those who are not hip to the pastime of Disk Golf, heres a quick tutorial. Its like golf but with disks and you have to throw them into a basket. There you have it.
We have designated Wednesday night as league night, mainly due to the fact that the bar right down the street, KT's Chicken House (we are trying to talk her into making waffles too), has 2 por 1 cervezas between 7 and 8 on Wednesday. So we throw disk and then go chill at the bar and struggle to get a smile out of KT. It is quite the sweet evening, and really has us all looking forward to hump day.
Normally we tend to play Friday afternoons too, as we get out of work early and there is good sunlight. This was the case last Friday.
So there we are Friday afternoon. The Dudes Bien Tuanis, chilling in the very cloudy Bagaces Disk Club (BDC), looking at the sky awaiting the enviable downpour that is quickly approaching. To play in the pouring rain, or not to play, that is the question. Jeff decided to stay in his office and not come out, and Mario was a bit under the wether and decided he was not down, playos! Aaron, JJ, Randal, and I all decided we did not have sandy vaginas and took off our shirts, and proceeded to get wet.
A few points to consider:
-One cool thing about Costa Rica is that it is tropical and when it does rain, it is generally not cold. So if you can deal with the water its not that bad.
-I am by far the worst player.
-This particular afternoon is was F@$&ing pouring! By far worsening my game.
The first hole was cool because we were excited to play in the the rain for the first time. So were at the first T-Box and the rain was at our back and coming down at a 45° angle. It was kinda pushing the disks down which could have been good for me because when I drive I tend to throw high. We all drive and as expected all of our disks land shorter than our normal drives. Ahh gravity and the rain hitting the disk doesn't allow them to fly as far. Noted.
After the first hole JJ and Randal pared and Aaron and I bogeyed. Move to hole two, a par four, and the rain pegging you right in the face as we throw. This was a bitch! At this point in time we had 17 holes to go, and were all soaked to the bone. We decided to battle through though.
After struggling through the front nine, Randal and JJ were tied at +1 Aaron had +4, and yours truly was holding it down with a +7. It then stopped pouring and we were blessed with a drizzle for 2 holes... until it proceeded to pour again. After getting 2 double bogies in a row, I got pissed at my self and stopped keeping my score. I just was throwing more for practice, trying the 360 toss, and backhands which I cannot do well. This actually was a blessing in disguise, as one relaxes and doesn't really care how they play, they tend to play better. This was the case with me. I learned this in a rigorous Bocce Ball game back in the day, but forgot this virtue up until this exact moment. Hopefully I bring this lesson with me to the next match.
We finished out the back nine and JJ and Randal ended up tying for the win with +2 each, Aaron finished with something like +8 and I sucked it up and got all poor sport and didn't keep my score. At least Im honest.
After that we came back to the office and dried off as best as we could, and then traditionally proceeded to KT's for some chilling and bullshitting.
I wonder if I will continue to play in the states? It will be tough as our course is like one I have never seen. Well I have not really played much disk in the states, but after being one of the founders and pioneer of a course like this it is hard to compare any others. Well maybe I will play,especially when Aaron gets our custom BDC disks. Sport those in the states. Oh mae solo bueno!!!
The word frisbee comes from the Frisbee Pie Company, a bakery in Connecticut, who gained fame providing Union solders with baked goods during the Civil war. Fast forward a century and a bunch of Ivy League geniuses start throwing these tins around, and a new leisure activity is born. Now to be honest I would much rather associate our game with a much cooler Discus Throw of the ancient Greek era, than that of some stoned granola kids throwing around pie tins. So for sake of argument, we play disk, and are Greek warriors!
So for those who are not hip to the pastime of Disk Golf, heres a quick tutorial. Its like golf but with disks and you have to throw them into a basket. There you have it.
We have designated Wednesday night as league night, mainly due to the fact that the bar right down the street, KT's Chicken House (we are trying to talk her into making waffles too), has 2 por 1 cervezas between 7 and 8 on Wednesday. So we throw disk and then go chill at the bar and struggle to get a smile out of KT. It is quite the sweet evening, and really has us all looking forward to hump day.
Normally we tend to play Friday afternoons too, as we get out of work early and there is good sunlight. This was the case last Friday.
So there we are Friday afternoon. The Dudes Bien Tuanis, chilling in the very cloudy Bagaces Disk Club (BDC), looking at the sky awaiting the enviable downpour that is quickly approaching. To play in the pouring rain, or not to play, that is the question. Jeff decided to stay in his office and not come out, and Mario was a bit under the wether and decided he was not down, playos! Aaron, JJ, Randal, and I all decided we did not have sandy vaginas and took off our shirts, and proceeded to get wet.
A few points to consider:
-One cool thing about Costa Rica is that it is tropical and when it does rain, it is generally not cold. So if you can deal with the water its not that bad.
-I am by far the worst player.
-This particular afternoon is was F@$&ing pouring! By far worsening my game.
The first hole was cool because we were excited to play in the the rain for the first time. So were at the first T-Box and the rain was at our back and coming down at a 45° angle. It was kinda pushing the disks down which could have been good for me because when I drive I tend to throw high. We all drive and as expected all of our disks land shorter than our normal drives. Ahh gravity and the rain hitting the disk doesn't allow them to fly as far. Noted.
After the first hole JJ and Randal pared and Aaron and I bogeyed. Move to hole two, a par four, and the rain pegging you right in the face as we throw. This was a bitch! At this point in time we had 17 holes to go, and were all soaked to the bone. We decided to battle through though.
After struggling through the front nine, Randal and JJ were tied at +1 Aaron had +4, and yours truly was holding it down with a +7. It then stopped pouring and we were blessed with a drizzle for 2 holes... until it proceeded to pour again. After getting 2 double bogies in a row, I got pissed at my self and stopped keeping my score. I just was throwing more for practice, trying the 360 toss, and backhands which I cannot do well. This actually was a blessing in disguise, as one relaxes and doesn't really care how they play, they tend to play better. This was the case with me. I learned this in a rigorous Bocce Ball game back in the day, but forgot this virtue up until this exact moment. Hopefully I bring this lesson with me to the next match.
We finished out the back nine and JJ and Randal ended up tying for the win with +2 each, Aaron finished with something like +8 and I sucked it up and got all poor sport and didn't keep my score. At least Im honest.
After that we came back to the office and dried off as best as we could, and then traditionally proceeded to KT's for some chilling and bullshitting.
I wonder if I will continue to play in the states? It will be tough as our course is like one I have never seen. Well I have not really played much disk in the states, but after being one of the founders and pioneer of a course like this it is hard to compare any others. Well maybe I will play,especially when Aaron gets our custom BDC disks. Sport those in the states. Oh mae solo bueno!!!
jueves, 7 de mayo de 2009
Brief Introduction
It begins! Here I am, sitting at my desk as I just finished recreo (recess, or my break what have you) and it seems like just any other standard mundane evening in the office. At this point in time I generally try to finish up the daily tasks I have been working on, and then proceed to dick around on the internet for a few hours until it is time for me to go home. Not gonna lie, I am normally burnt out from working for the past eight hours and ready to go home. However at Saco, I still have two more working hours to go. I don't know what exactly hit me today, but I decided that it was time for me to start a personal blog. We shall see how long it lasts.
I feel that I must start by saying a few things to explain my self, and maybe lay down some guidelines to ease readers expectations and answer any preconceived questions. Im going with a basic list of factors that have inspired me to do this, and a brief explanation of my thought process. This also can serve as a method to provide my kick ass readers (yes you automatically KICK ASS for reading what I have to say) with some insight, and lay down some guidelines as to how to interpret my writing style and what to expect. As you should well know, I speak like I want, and I type like I speak, neither one of them very conventional. I control words they do not control me! With that said maybe you should have another window open to Thesaurus.com. or even better Urbandictionary.com to better understand some of the spit Im laying down. Oh yea, I take a while to get to the point too so bear with me...or don't.
So some points:
- I want to declare that I am doing this for me, and not really trying to impress anyone.
- Since Im on line too often, I read a lot of blogs. Some of them are good and entertaining, whereas others should be reading material to help assist insomniacs. Hopefully mine is the former.
- I actually write a lot of stuff secretly (don't tell anyone) and I think I don't suck. So I guess I will sack up and see if others agree or if idiots dont?
- The internet is a trip and anyone can post whatever they want. So Ill be a joiner.
- Recently I have discovered a sort of a creative side and I guess Im going with it.
- And most importantly this can serve as a way to keep others updated on my abnormal happenings. As I know people want to know whats going on with me as I try to keep my life far from mainstream. I appreciate everyone for not bugging me too much as you know Im not huge on uninvited attention, so for this I reward you. I guess it would have been wise to start this when I moved to CR, not as Im leaving, but whatever. *A note on that, I will have to see how this thing goes to determine if I really want to post the wild shit, or leave this thing tame. We shall see, but if this blog goes ordinary I will block you mom and turn it up a notch.
So if you made it this far I thank you. I know that nothing of real substance was written and it is more just me on a rant about my motives, but I guess I had to start somewhere. I will update this soon and put some type of antic-dote of the happening that are going on around me. There is an abundance of entertaining situations that happen on the norm around me, bueno digo yo verdad. Ok so check back soon, or sign up for the alert thing. Peace
I feel that I must start by saying a few things to explain my self, and maybe lay down some guidelines to ease readers expectations and answer any preconceived questions. Im going with a basic list of factors that have inspired me to do this, and a brief explanation of my thought process. This also can serve as a method to provide my kick ass readers (yes you automatically KICK ASS for reading what I have to say) with some insight, and lay down some guidelines as to how to interpret my writing style and what to expect. As you should well know, I speak like I want, and I type like I speak, neither one of them very conventional. I control words they do not control me! With that said maybe you should have another window open to Thesaurus.com. or even better Urbandictionary.com to better understand some of the spit Im laying down. Oh yea, I take a while to get to the point too so bear with me...or don't.
So some points:
- I want to declare that I am doing this for me, and not really trying to impress anyone.
- Since Im on line too often, I read a lot of blogs. Some of them are good and entertaining, whereas others should be reading material to help assist insomniacs. Hopefully mine is the former.
- I actually write a lot of stuff secretly (don't tell anyone) and I think I don't suck. So I guess I will sack up and see if others agree or if idiots dont?
- The internet is a trip and anyone can post whatever they want. So Ill be a joiner.
- Recently I have discovered a sort of a creative side and I guess Im going with it.
- And most importantly this can serve as a way to keep others updated on my abnormal happenings. As I know people want to know whats going on with me as I try to keep my life far from mainstream. I appreciate everyone for not bugging me too much as you know Im not huge on uninvited attention, so for this I reward you. I guess it would have been wise to start this when I moved to CR, not as Im leaving, but whatever. *A note on that, I will have to see how this thing goes to determine if I really want to post the wild shit, or leave this thing tame. We shall see, but if this blog goes ordinary I will block you mom and turn it up a notch.
So if you made it this far I thank you. I know that nothing of real substance was written and it is more just me on a rant about my motives, but I guess I had to start somewhere. I will update this soon and put some type of antic-dote of the happening that are going on around me. There is an abundance of entertaining situations that happen on the norm around me, bueno digo yo verdad. Ok so check back soon, or sign up for the alert thing. Peace
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