Kimbo Slice

We got to talking about stories, which are the crux of a community's culture. Forever sewn into the fabric of the Finca's culture is the story of a white English Bulldog named Kimbo Slice. Erica, who hadn't even seen their new adopted dog from San Jose, was told on the phone by Matt, (who was in tears) that Kimbo had freaked out and ran across the bridge, and had been missing for a few days. The story goes that every man in camp was out looking for this dog, and finally found some evidence of his tracks going up into the hill, accompanied with puma tracks about 3 times as large as his. Signs of a struggle showed further up the hill, with only puma tracks exiting the area. That was day 5. On Day 12, a guy by the name of Paul was out into the finca's forest when he screamed Matt's name. Everyone ran over to Paul immediately, and saw a big bulldog head with emaciated body barely alive behind him. The local Tico's were convinced it was a ghost, that's how bad that dog looked. His eyes were caked open with layers of gunk, a 25 pound weight loss, and two deep gashes on the side of his neck. Today, he's as stupid as ever, mostly blind from the experience, but still the finca's protector with an affinity for balloons and Chester.

Tirar De Basura Parta Treis

I moved some garbage around. 8 hours with a wheel barrow, rake, shovel and thick gloves from a labour standpoint, overcoming a fear of homeless people, and dogs, snakes and needles from an emotional. In the heart of the most dangerous, run-down and sad part of downtown San Jose, it seemed ridiculous to venture out into an empty lot and clean up garbage. From our 5th floor fire exit, it excited me to be able to make a change, imagining a green area full of life instead of plastic, & rubber. It was to be a internal journey in and of itself, and I was not prepared for the rollercoaster of thoughts that beset me throughout.

Without firm statistics, I can only guess that an average Costa Rican creates much less garbage than a North American in one year. I also believe that there are only a few Latin Americans that throw their garbage on the streets: whether they're poor, or just careless. The only difference is that in some areas, their garbage is visible, and ours is not as much. The problem still exists in both countries - what to do, and should we even care, for care's sake?

Well, I couldn't expect anything to change if I was part of the problem. I've had so many cravings for Taco Bell, I think from the advertising, but there's just too much packaging in one meal. My money can help a small restaurant much more than funneling it back to Headquarters in California, or Kentucky. You wouldn't believe the lineups here for KFC, Taco Bell and McDonalds, and they're not cheap. People just aren't eating at home as much anymore.

A Mother's Love

I returned from a dinner and drinks with a waitress I had met at a restaurant last night and it was an enlightening, but depressing conversation. Cecilia moved from Nicaragua to Costa Rica 16 years ago for a better life for her and her mom and sister; 4 other kids and father stayed there. Her father put her mother's hands on the stove to teach her a lesson on how to make tortillas. Cecilia's own husband resorted to physical violence too; it's the Nico way representative of Ortega, so she says. At 30, she's worked for 17 years straight without seeing anything outside of San Jose. She lives for her kids: she only wants to make them happy. She wants to give them nice clothes, nice shoes, a nice house; what mother doesn't? I'm not sure she believed me when I told her I didn't think Canadians were much happier........ of course it's not my right to speak for 30 million others, but my thoughts were that no matter what you have, it's the human condition to want more.

I paid for the meal, and drinks for both of us, about $22. I gave our server $40, and when the change returned, I gave it all to Cecilia, and told her it was for her kids. How did she respond? "Peexza". Not hot dogs and potatoes even. "Peexza". Why the hell would she be so happy to give her kids "Peexza"?

I'm just disgusted right now I'm full of anger at the state of advertising, the state of our stinky world that's created this world where if you want to sell something, you can. It really doesn't matter what the impact is on families, you can sell it, because you know, people will want it. If you just have to pay some money, and POP! your food comes out without the least bit of effort, it doesn't matter that you had to work 3 weeks to afford that 'peexza', you, and your kids are going to want it. Because it tastes good.

A large percentage of the money we spend on our products in the grocery store goes to advertising, not to mention bloated corporate salaries. This is not something you will see on Dateline NBC, because 100% of their income comes from advertising! First, if it is our money that's being spent on products, it should be our decision how the advertising goes. Advertising's sole purpose is to get people to buy their products.

Food in Costa Rica is expensive. Cecilia makes $80/week: $100/month for rent + 50 or so for utilities. Doesn't leave much for food........... food that is being charged at a rate to include advertising.

Does anyone really give a shit that some waitress in San Jose only wants to buy her kids a pizza that's going to burn the entire $20 some idiot Canadian gave her in hopes of making her kid's life better? Does it help ease the pain if we have stocks in these companies, these companies that solely want to entice a new generation of buyers?

Who cares if they're obese? Who cares if they can't wait for their next fix of Taco Bell, where they simply have to have the money (money possibly stolen from some tourist) to get it, and then throw their plastic, and paper packaging into the garbage?

EVERYTHING is connected. There is no simple answer, except to stop want, stop greed.

Nicaragua?

Nicaragua? It's probably just another back-water country with an exotic name full of malaria, violence, despotic leaders and poverty. With a little research, one would have discovered the centre of the Iran-Contra affair of the 80s, where the American government were caught selling arms to Iran to fund anti-socialist aims in Central America. A visitor would be wise to throw out any pre-conceived notions, or ignorance of Nicaragua and experience it first hand.

As the jade-green waters curl up and over the toppled surfers, it pulls up a thin layer of tan-coloured sand with it, effectively scrubbing away the small amount of negative publicity Nicaragua has garnered in the last 25 years. Ten dollar lobster grilled to perfection is just one example of how far the tourist dollar can go, and another tempting reason to proclaim the country's coast line the best in the world. Ancient volcanoes filled with azure-blue water, Carribean seas a warm bath-tub temperature with colourful marine life, colonial towns retaining an old-world charm: Nicaragua can offer a lifetime of adventure and relaxation.

It will certainly take much more to wash the memories of the Nicaraguan people clean, as years of corrupt government, brutal warfare, and a devastating earthquake would be enough to put a permanent cloud over the future of the country. A strong, and proud Nica heritage has created an attitude of acceptance, and making the best with what one has. Perhaps the future of Nicaragua will shine brighter as the outside world continues to take note of it's natural wonders, and beautiful, resilient people.

At ease

I had the wonderful opportunity to meet a family of 5 kids and mom in Eastern Guatemala. They were all so relaxed, friendly, and laid back. I don't think any of them really cared what kind of car they drove, or how big their house was, or what XBOX game they want to play. It was a rare opportunity to see children authentically excited to get something that would give them hours of fun play time. A vendor just happened to walk by with a basketball, so for $7.50 I hoped I made a positive difference. They were so pumped, excited, happy just to have one thing.

Molcajete

A massive dish with a warning of it's size was handled easily at Victoria's classy 'Tributo' restaurant a couple nights ago. This time, a night of stomach aches, and back pain, I surrendered and Pablo ended up taking the remainder home. Several animals met their maker in this dish, and I was a bit turned off by the amount of meat we eat down here. The restaurant we visited this night was a lot more traditional Mexican, with a large pan full of bubbling grease and chorizo sausages and a cow brain wrapped in plastic. Many people indulge in cow brain and tongue tacos at least 3 or 4 times a week here. Not for me. I was hoping for a few more onions and cactus leaf this night. Side note: The 'Cambie' t-shirt to commemorate the Oilers run in 2005 has a different meaning in Spanish - turn off. Could explain some of the looks.

Beware of the Spank

Tonight Monica and her fiance Jorge will accompany to the Mexican wrestling ring. I will be taking the red metrobus to meet her close to her office, as they are given a lane just to themselves and is the fastest way to traverse the city. One would expect many warnings to keep in mind on this journey, but she had only one: "BEWARE OF THE SPANKS". When I asked her what it meant, this was her reply:

Spanking is a form of corporal punishment commonly used to discipline a toddler, child, or teenager. It generally involves an adult -- typically a parent or teacher -- striking the offender's buttocks as a response to poor behavior, with either an open hand or an implement, to cause temporary pain without producing physical injury.^[1] When an instrument is used in lieu of a hand, spanking becomes switching, paddling, belting, caning, whipping, or birching, depending on the type of implement. When an open hand is used, some countries refer to spanking as slapping or smacking. Historically, boys have tended to be more frequently spanked than girls.^{[2][3][4][5][6]}

Spanking can also refer to the practice of striking an adult in a playful manner as a social ritual or form of entertainment.

Some countries have outlawed the spanking of children in every setting, but many allow it at least when administered by a parent or guardian. For the legal status of corporal punishment in different countries, see Corporal punishment in the home and School corporal punishment.

MEXICAN TRANSLATION :

AND OLD LADY CAN SPANK ( TOUCH ) YOUR BUTT!!!!!! J

CYA

Fireworks

It's almost 12:3o am local time in the district of Santa Ursula Xitla, and someone is setting off fireworks here: no special occasion, no holiday, just because. It's Wednesday morning. A common occurrence here regardless of which day. We're so used to it we don't even jump anymore. Pablo warned me tonight the church and cemetary seems to attract some dangerous people and when there's a party he recommended to be very careful in the area. A fair is coming this weekend, and will shut down the whole street for days. It is to commemorate the anniversary of the church, and it is replete with carnival games, food, and rides. You can buy anything here.

Teotihuacan

An ancient people's handiwork is so ancient it was discovered by the Aztecs 15 centuries ago, who, without seeing any inhabitants, deemed it a gift from the gods. The sheer size of Teotihuacan's (Tayo-tee-wahcon) pyramids 50 km north of Mexico City was an homage to the sun, and moon in hopes of receiving plentiful harvests for their massive undertaking. There is much debate still as to who exactly these people were, but they have undoubtedly left their mark, and it has survived the ages, with millions of rocks expertly held together in perfect symmetry with the same material we rely on today - concrete. Built at 15.5 degrees east of north, the city's urban grid was precisely constructed to align with the sun at it's zenith in the summer months, and effectively kept track of the growing season for it's inhabitants.

Although their monument has stood the test of time, their civilization was unable to survive much past the 5th century A.D. Considered now to have been a multi-ethnic community, the human, and animal sacrifices these people performed to appease the gods, could not innoculate them against their own human trials. Evidence indicates extensive fire damage to only the areas inhabited by the ruling elite class, suggesting unrest among the civilization. It seems Teotihuacan continues to fight for it's place as a spiritual centre, as a Wal-Mart was built on the grounds in 2004, and an enormous light and sound show contends for the area, featuring large metallic structures, 2,500 lights and three kilometers of cables, according to Statesman.com.

Either way, this UNESCO World Heritage Site will continue to be a cherished spot for tourists, and business, alike. Filled with vendors selling everything from bow and arrows, to jaguar whistles to obsidian masks, it is a popular tourist destination for the locals as well. People of all ages scale the Pyramid of the Sun, and raise their hands in tradition at the top, possibly feeling the power and grand scale of human accomplishment, and a connection to their ancestors.

It is a cultural experience the locals use to connect with their ancestors. The nearby Wal-Mart is concealed from view.

Pedro held-up twice, luis once, luis's dad express kidnap, pedro's friend express kidnap, marivy's house broken into twice and her dad's watch collection, and mom's jewellery gone. Laura's brother express kidnap. Everyone has a story in this city of extortion or violence, and a sad reminder that the residents of Mexico City are afraid to live in their own city. It is a tall order to walk through this city, knowing what can happen, and not feel fear, but one must. Mexico City is alive and vibrant, and with some common sense you can enjoy a wonderful life here. In case of a banking machine hi-jack, my sister tells me you can put your pin in backwards to alert the bank of your situation. Don't count your money in public.

Policia

A run through the red light at 4 in the morning did not go unheeded and $400 pesos later our deal was done. We ended up talking in spanish for an hour but i had to say goodnight.

Basura

People still throw their garbage wherever they like here in Mexico. It is changing, and will be a matter of time. A crucial step is the recycling of cans, where aluminum will be diverted from the landfill, cutting into the profits of the fulltime garbage dump residents. Garbage is money regardless. We did our part down on the presa and the boys helped me out a bit. We found well over 20 fish dead on the shore and I thought about how noone probably knows why. Helpless to stop the cycle.

Cien Pesos Gringo

We get down to the Presa and I´m feeling no fear. I refused to let the Narco presence scare me, and I wanted to enjoy myself and take the lead. A drunk woman asks me for a dance, and to be polite I accept. We dance with the live music on the sidewalk of the lake´s parking lot with several people drinking and egging us on. After a couple songs, the drummer starts motioning agressively to me. We finish and I come over to him. Cien pesos ($10) for dancing. I don´t understand nobody told me about this. The lady intervenes, and roman is feeling uncomfortable he says music is expensive here. I don´t understand. I don´t have any money for you. The lady is asking me for another dance and offers to pay. Finally I explode. Why I ask in spanish why do you do this nobody told me there was a charge for the music. I was furious. I tell roman we´re leaving to get some cash to pay the fucker. I realize i´m out of my element here and the narcos are everywhere. we get out of here and i try to start processing what happened. we get back home, and i let it all out in english. they knew what I meant. we decide to forget about it and move on.

El Rancho

Half an hour ride down the worst country road i´ve ever been on almost getting hit by a car that tries to pass a tractor. It was worth it with a big fiesta for the lady of the ranch´s birthday with the biggest gathering of locals I´ve seen in years. Kids, grandparents, friends all together. We danced to the band and Roman told me to take it easy and follow his lead. This was a place of tradition, not a disco.

Les Mujeres

One beautiful woman, two beautiful women, 3 beautiful women. And they´re all sisters. A cousin comes over in the afternoon, and I´m starting to believe Roman´s conjectures that Sinaloa is home to some of the most beautiful women in the world.

Famillia Gamez

We get into a traditional stone and mortar mexican house, and through a doorway covered by a blanket into an oasis of AC. Rom´s sister and mom meet us, and give me the royal treatment having known me for about 1 minute. his promise was true. we talk for about an hour in spanish using about the 50 or so words and phrases i knew to get around. my blue mexican spanish book became my bible. I joked I couldn´t speak spanish at night unless i had a light to check my book as necessary. Toilet has no seat, and shower is a square made out of concrete blocks. I was in heaven.

BC Ferries

Every single one of the customer service related staff on this ship is young, sweet and stunning. The owners of this Mexican Ferry are Italian. Not enough research on this subject to determine if the two are associated in any way. Rom and I were joined by a couple from California - and she grew up in Lacombe, about 45 minute drive from my home town! We had a great conversation about life and he was living on his boat full-time, referring to QTL, quality time left.

Cock Fights

What can I say? One of the most surreal experiences - we went down to the cock fighting farm this afternoon, and fed the monkey. Save your jokes for later, this is serious business down here.

The Painter

Although my instincts tell me to be careful around certain people, I take every person at face value, and give them a chance regardless. It was my idea to get the trim painted, as I told Kiko I thought it would spruce up the place a bit. I started late, and when I got on the roof, there was another painter there. He looked at me defensively. The painter guy started on me right away. He was quite aggressively speaking in Spanish about my painting, and I just kept saying "no entiendo" or don't understand, and went back to work. Turns out after I had told Kiko it would be a good idea to paint the trim, a labourer from the south with plans to go to Tijuana was willing to barter goods. He would exchange room, board, and food for painting. By 8 pm it was completely dark, and I decided he needed it more than me, so I left him to it. Besides, I simply wanted the job done, and I didn't need any unneccessary aggression. I asked Kiko later to ask the fellow what the hell his problem was. He came back smiling, saying the guy thought I was painting wrong and that all the wood had to be scraped first. Fine, fair enough. I just wanted to get it done. I was glad to be away from it, as they use these huge brushes in Mexico that are very hard to get used to.

He did an excellent job. I remembered Tom's words about being nice to the labourers and smiling, but everytime I saw him, I just felt like defending, and giving him a scowl, but i didn't. Everytime I saw him I told him Bueno, Bueno. He finished the job yesterday, and Kiko gave him $400 pesos for his work, which was about 3 days. Last night, he got himself into trouble. He got drunk, tried to start a fight with Miguel, the sweet 24 year old kid that introduced me to everyone here. Turns out a Military sargeant from the base was here, and decided to pound the krap out of him. Kiko went over to him this morning to tell him to leave, as he said he didn't want any more problems. The fellow had an awful face I guess, as the military guy was kicking him in the face and body.

It's a sad story. The painter guy is uneducated, and probably had a tough life. Perhaps though, the Mexican justice will teach him a lesson.

Universidad de BCS

Kiko generously offered for me to join him at the Universidad to see about how education works in his town. He had 4 different classes: English, Ecology, First-Aid, and Outdoor Pursuits. I was outside puking up my sandwich for at least one of them, but I didn't miss much as it was test day. Kiko pays $1200 pesos for a semester of class - thats 6 days a week, 4 hours a day. I paid $300 pesos at the bar the other night for 4 drinks. He said the government subsidizes education here. The school was very well taken care of with probably the only patch of grass in town surrounding a cute statue of a whale.