Time flew

I sit now on my mom's laptop in San Diego, California. A lot has happened, I suppose, since March, the last time I wrote on here. Let me try and sum it all up.

Merida, Venezuela

Ruben and I went to the mountains after spending many months on the beaches of Colombia and Venezuela. We headed to Merida, which turned into a wonderful month in Venezuela. Merida saved my failing opinion of Venezuela. We found a room to rent about an hour bus ride out of the city deep in the country hills, in the farm house of Senora Maria and her sister.

Maria was in her mid-90s and still hand washed her clothes in a bucket on the ground with a straight back, brought the cows in from pasture, milked her milking cow, made DELICIOUS cheeses, danced, took care of maybe 50 ducks, chickens and turkeys and sang her way through every day.

Maria and one of her baby cows.

Her sister had moved up the hill to live with Maria after what she described to me as "too many years living as a prisoner in her son's house." She told me how Maria needed the help, but in reality I think she needed to help Maria more than Maria needed her help. She grew, prepared, and roasted her own coffee beans and would make afternoon coffee every day. Also delicious. Daily, she and Maria carried on a consant sisterly-nit-pick-banter, every now and then escalating and ending with both of mumbling angrily to the cows they were towing by the ropes around the house.

Coffee beans drying in the sun.

Maria's sister leading one of the cows up behind the house.

Maria's chair.
This chicken here started limping around one day. I mentioned something to Maria about it, expecting her to be worried about one of her dear chickens. She loved her chickens. Ruben, who also loves chickens, and her would talk on and on about all the different types of chickens, and their own personal chicken stories all the time.

The side of the house with Maria and the cows up on the hill.

Maria (left) and her sister, the day we left.

Nicole at the river down behind our house.

The mountains from the front porch.

On a hike to some natural hot springs near our house. It was the coolest hot springs I've ever been to.

Gato and Ruben talking in their underwear by the river.

Our view from our room. Gorda, my dog for the month, and one of the baby cows above. When I came to check out the room, Maria showed me a square concrete cell with nothing but a wooden bench in it. I asked about a bed and Maria told me matter-of-factly that "beds are for tourists." So we brought up old cardboard boxes from the city and made a nice hobo-bed. But for about $5 for the month, we didn't have too many qualms.

Gorda and Ruben hanging up clean laundry.

After a month in Merida we left to pass Semana Santa on the beaches where we could make more money more quickly because we had decided we wanted to go to Panama. Erin wrote me a email the day we left Merida telling me she had finally booked a ticket. She was flying into Panama City.

Semana Santa flew by in a rush to make money in order to be there for Erin's arrival. We barely made it. There were all sorts of hoops to jump through as far as buying the plane tickets in Venezuela. We had made the cash during Semana Santa to pay for the tickets, but we needed the cash to buy new materials and to get out of Venezuela. I didn't have any access to an ATM card, so I asked my mom, to whom I never cease to be grateful for (and certainly not just for money reasons), to wire the money from my account to this German store owner's account, from which he could give me cash in Venezuelan currency. If I had had an ATM card I would have been taking out money on the Venezuelan's government market, which meant the tickets for both Ruben and I would have cost about $500. However, if I could buy the tickets in Venezuelan currency they would cost about $200. Total. So that's when this German guy really saved us. He, along with half of the rest of the country, run on the side, black markets for exchanging tourist's money. Tourists transfer money into his German bank account which he uses to buy all his store's merchandise, and then he gives the tourist Venezuelan currency using the black market exchange rate. Apparently this type of opperation is so common that even Chavez, the one who controls the government's outstanding rate, benefits from it.

After much running, worrying and arguing, Ruben and I finally had the wired money in our hands and eventually in the bank to pay for our tickets. We ended up officially buying the tickets about 21 hours before the flight, I think. Erin was already in Panama by this point. I had failed to meet her at the airport.

Once we got there, we sped through Panama. It was really awesome being with Erin again, seeing Panama with her and hearing and watching her reactions to Panama and other primal living experiences. We started off in Panama City, went to Santa Catalina, a surfer's paradise on the Pacific with not too much of a village but lots of good surf. We rented, traded, borrowed and bartered for surfboards whenever we could.

We were also in Bocas del Toro, on the Carribean, where we rented two rooms in La Casa de Moody, a young rasta trying to start a hostel. He had his entire yard filled with rain filled tents, and rented out his two bedrooms in his cabin. He slept on the floor in the kitchen. He was super nice and showed us lots of hospitality.

We stayed in David, a city in central Panama in the mountains. David is one of Panama's "large" cities, but large in Panamanian standards is not too big. It had a slower, friendly atmosphere to it and was a fun place to sell. We were the only artisanos selling there at the time.

Around this time, Shay was back south, working this time for a family in San Jose, Costa Rica. Her time working was about up and we agreed to meet up in Puerto Viejo, a little beach village on the Carribean. Another several wonderful weeks went by spending time with another good girl friend. I realized after being with Shay and Erin again how much I missed my girls back home. This led me to realizing just how much I wanted to see everyone back home. So I went back. I booked a flight for a month in advance and took a month to think it all over and by the time I was saying bye to Ruben in the airport I knew I was coming back.

Now, it's August 19th. I fly back to San Jose, Costa Rica tomorrow. I spent two wonderful months visiting with friends and family, relaxing, working with my dad, cleaning house for my mom, backpacking and camping in the High Sierras with my brother, Sean, my dad, Italy and O.B, my little dogs, listening to music I was missing for ten months, surfing and losing a little of the fried food diet weight that I gained in South America.

I'm rested and equiped with a new little sack of clothes to go back to travelling. The plan is to just go north up through Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, Belize and Mexico. I'll let you know how it's going....