I Just Can't Wait to Get On the Road Again

Partly cloudy, 65 F, Barely a breeze -

I sit on a comfy recliner in a friend's house in Pacific Beach, San Diego, finishing the coffee I got on my four block walk down to the ocean to gaze at the surf, soak up the morning sun, and play some frisbee with my brother this morning. After a 12 day bike ride down the PCH from San Francisco to San Diego, where we faced inclement weather (supposedly one of the worst set of storms the California coast had seen in two decades), and cold nights in and out of the tent, Leigh Ann (my girlfriend of nine months, dear friend, and hearty and well-tested traveling companion) and I finally arrived in San Diego last Sunday. The first leg of the trip was a bit trying. It tested my patience and Leigh Ann's tolerance and mental toughness. Although we were blessed with good weather up until Big Sur, our pocket of sunshine did not hold up the second week. As we carefully plotted our course from Gorda, on the southern edge of Big Sur, to Los Angeles, it was stressful trying to cover distance in between rain storms. The looming threat of rain was a constant thought in the back of our minds. Although we got thoroughly soaked at some points along the way, the sun always came out for short bursts of warmth and light, and the green hills and swampy farmlands never looked so magical, glistening with their raindrop jackets. We found hosts to take us in on three different nights during this leg. It was great to feel welcome in these towns and made me feel part of a community bigger than anything I had known. That these people would open up their hearts and their homes to two weary travelers on bicycles is something special. Thank you Richard, Terry, and Leslie. Even when we did not plan it, we would find kindness from people along the roads, in parking lots, along the cliffs of southern california.

A couple highlights along the way: an organic strawberry and kiwi farm just north of Santa Cruz where we were able to do some jam tasting, and where payment for coffee and other goods was on the honor system - put your money in the box, take what change you need, with no one to govern it. It was nice soaking up the sun in a red chair in front of the store, overlooking the PCH, a field of yellow wildflowers, and the ocean beyond. Our last two days of riding was in pure, unhindered sunshine - a nice welcome to so cal. A beautiful sunset, and even more glorious sunrise on top of the ridge at San Onofre St. Park, our last campsite.

Since arriving in SD, there has been a lot to take in: sight seeing, old friends, old coworkers, and some taking care of business (application to USD grad school, and fixing up the trusty steed for its next leg through Baja), but it seems as if things have finally slowed down, at least for the day, and at least enough for me to sit here in silence, reflecting on things accomplished and things to come. I am enjoying all the amenities of societal living (stoves, refrigerators, chairs, beds, shelter, computers, cars, friends) while I have them. I got two responses from people that have shown interest in riding with me as far as the tip of Baja. One response was from a 20 yr old guy from Manitoba, Canada, who started his trip in early September. His name is Jordan. We met the other day and he seems like he will make a good companion. He managed to plant enough trees for the Queen last spring to finance his trip south. The other response was from a girl, Laurel, who is 26 and from Oregon. She is a field biologist and works during the spring and summer and has the winters off. I will meet her in just a few short hours. I have secured two places to stay my first two nights in Mexico. One will be in La Mision, a small town in between the beaches of Rosarito and Ensenada, and the next will be in Ensenada. These hosts should make for a smooth transition to Baja. After Ensenada, we will be far enough away from the chaos and congestion of the border towns that I will feel much more comfortable camping out. I am excited to get to know my two new traveling companions and for the sights, experiences, and adventures that await south of the border. My legs and rump are primed, my gear is tested and restocked, my bike is cleaned and tuned, my health is great, my spirit is high. Plans to depart are set for Monday, Feb. 1. A big thanks to the family, friends, and strangers who have helped me make it this far.

I am ready and open for whatever awaits me...

Ya Es Hora??

Dear Diary,
Its been a while since my last entry... Been pretty busy and out of touch. As my last entry mentioned, May has been a very trying month with my boys. The week before my third descanso brought more interesting situations in the house. Senora Bea, the lady in charge of the kids who stays at the orphanage (not the head director), involved herself with my boys more and more as the days wore on. It seemed like every free moment the boys were supposed to have was taken away from them and she forced them to clean. It grew very tiresome for them and for me, as I was forced to stay with them and help organize the cleaning. These cleaning sessions might at first have been necessary for them to get back in touch with how their rooms should be cleaned and how their chores should be done, but after a while, these punishments did not serve a purpose. If these punishments were given for them to behave better, it surely was not working. The wake up hour was changed from five in the morning to four in the morning. Around this same time, I found out that for some reason, Senora Bea had some problems with me and I guess found it hard to talk to me. I tried to talk to her about this several times, but I most often found that these conversations would end in her rambling on about how the cat has fleas, and avoiding the issue of some type of bad communication between us. Whatever the case may have been, I left for my third descanso angry at her, very tired, extremely sick, and not understanding why my kids could not understand how to follow simple rules.
The company on my third descanso was a charming little lady named Leigh Ann. A nurse from Tennessee, she came to the casa thinking she might help in the clinic, and ended up being a teacher for the pre-k class. Having similar tastes in music and many philosophies to discuss we set off to explore more of Guatemala. Traveling north, we visited a beautiful lake, Lago Petez Itza situated next to Tikal, the ruins of a Mayan civilization about 1500 years old. Traveling back down south from the Peten along the Mexican border, we got into an interesting situation trying to push a broken down pickup truck with no lights towards a town we had no idea the location of - not to be worried though, we hitched a ride with some other friendly locals who put us in the back of their truck where there were a few lively chickens. Then, another stop off in the north west at a national park called Laguna Lachua, a beautiful, untouched lake, where the fish did not know the danger of being fished, and where I accidentally swam a lot closer to crocodiles than I would have normally if I knew they were there. From there, it took a lot longer to get to Lago Atitlan than we imagined, because we ended up taking the smaller, unpaved roads through the Alta Veracruz, the Highlands. Besides the twisting and turning of our small micro bus and the rocky, muddy roads, a huge landslide at one point separated us from our destination. Hiking over this landslide to get to the other side of the road where we could pick up another bus and continue our travels provided some very comical situations. Arriving in Lago Atitlan, where I spent my first descanso, we met up with an old volunteer and returned her green backpack we´d been lugging along our whole break. We broke up the trip back to Rio Dulce, staying in Antigua, a the old colonial capital of Guatemala, where old Spanish churches sat in ruin next to coffee shops and comedores. It was a lot of traveling, but it being my last time to travel around a country I´ve found so beautiful and visit with local people I´ve found so friendly, it was well worth the countless hours in the buses.
I am now back at the orhpanage. It is weird to be back knowing that I have only two weeks left. Daniel, who I had been working with previously, changed positions after having some incidents with the kids. There is a new orientador, Marc, from Spain, who I am handing off all of my expertise to. He will take over the captains chair when I leave. So far, it seems we have the same philosophies on how to handle situations and how to mold these children´s lives, and so I think it will be a smooth transition. After initiating a couple new systems in the house, the kids seem to be responding well. Their behavior seems to have improved. Either that, or possibly I am just trying to enjoy my last weeks with them...
New pictures posted. Enjoy.
Looking forward to a music filled June, a good amber beer, and to seeing some familiar faces back in California - not quite a bad place to return home too.
Chris

Its Already May?

Wow. April has come and gone, and with the arrival May, thunderstorms have also come my way. I swear I did not mean to rhyme, the words just felt right at the time.
So much to say, but so little time. Some words are better than none though. Its been a long couple weeks since I got back from my second descanso. My second descanso, which I took with four other volunteers north to the Peten, and east to the Carribean, was average. It was a much different mood from my first, in which I traveled by myself, but the company was fun, and it was nice getting to know my company at the orphanage outside of those circumstances. Unfortunately, by the end, all of us had fallen under the weather, a serious storm at that. One had blinding jungle eye disease, two others a rare parasite from eating bad ice cream, and Andrea and I, just your normal everyday third world food poisoning. This being said, spirits were only their highest one or two days at the most. In short, Semuc Champey? awesome! Livingston? Skip it. Go to Honduras instead. Pictures are on the right for those who wish to partake in my vacation and my return.
My kids, it seems, have grown accustomed to my face, accustomed to my voice, and accustomed to me. Slowly but surely, their respect and obedience diminished as we became closer friends. This all boiled up in a kettle until I finally had to cut to the gas and put them back where they belong, in their place. Their is a fine line between parent and friend, one that is often times hard to see and easy to cross, but one that most be walked if you are to maintain some sort of order in the house. I continue to learn about myself, and about my work. Each day, new problems arrise, and each has to be dealt with. I find myself being tired, and often times very frustrated with a situation that I don´t neccesarily know how to handle. Some issues get solved; others don´t. The only consistency here is the beans and rice. It seems there is a lack of dinero for the old foodo. But what once I might have noticed as being boring and monotonous, I don´t think twice about, and eat it happily for every meal of the day, every day of the week. That is not to say that the other volunteers and I don´t have some very exciting conversations about food concoctions that we can only get close enough to smell in our dreams.
It is hot down here, so I shaved my head today. It was my first time in a barber shop in Guatemala. Not very different from Linda´s in San Diego.
Now I have to go walk across the bridge back to Fronteras to pick up the externos from school. They don´t really like walking with me back to the boat. I´m that lame babysitter that they don´t want people to know that I take care of them. Or maybe I´m a dead give away that they live at Casa Guatemala? No se.
Happy Birthday to my May friends: Caitlin, Alex, T, Melissa, Jimbo. Happy early Mother´s Day. Happy Spring to those that get it.