Isthmus of Tehuantepec

I have everything I want and need here in Huatulco but it's good to break out of the routine once in a while and last weekend I visited the town of Tehuantepec as a guest of one of my students of last semester and his local English teacher. Misael invited me a couple of months ago but circumstances (the apartment situation for example)led to several postponements. Time clicks right along. Opportunities were getting slim. The weekend after this one is a big out of town teacher's conference and then we're into the October term. I finally got my act together, more or less, and with the invitation still open, I finally made it to the town of Tehuantepec proper around lunch time on Saturday.



Misael wasn't right there at the bus station so I walked a few steps into town to an internet shop. His phone number was waiting for me in an email. Now, I'm not bragging but I am gradually becoming a bit more functional with Spanish but after having introduced myself to his mother on the phone and asked for Misael (in my best Spanish) I was a bit deflated when she answered "Disculpe. No hablar inglis." That was my Spanish! She told me later that she had understood every word. It was just a misunderstanding on my part.
I understood her when she said Misael was at the bus terminal that very minute. She was right. I must have missed him by 2 minutes.


Misael's father loaned him the truck for the day. I met Victor, his English teacher and the three of us drove off to another small town with this cool little restaurant with a small zoo of indigenous animals. I hadn't known that Mexico has monkeys, leopards and deer. The monkeys make sense. I remember being stalked by a few at a nature reserve in Atitlan, Guatemela and that's not so far away. I suppose they'll always be wherever the bananas are.







Misael dropped Victor off at his classroom and we went off to meet his parents with one quick pit stop on the way. I found out later he'd stopped to buy some glue for my sneakers. I've been meaning to buy new sneakers for several months now. the right one was ripped apart from the middle and would flop open completely. I don't know how I managed to do that. I treat my footwear rather roughly. Misael made them as good as new. Misael rocks and his family are very nice people. Language barriers and all, we knew there wasn't going to be any conversation but I felt genuinely welcome.

Victor's classes are from Monday to Friday but he called his students in to practise their English with me and we had a couple of impromptu low pressure classes. They were all charming and their English was rather good considering none of them had been studying too long. Cameras came out at the end of each class and I have a few commemorative shots of my own.



Misael offered to drive us to a bar in Salina Cruz that night. I was a bit wary of finding myself in a blaring discotheque so I had to ask, "Um, what kind of bar is this? It isn't a discotheque , is it?"
"No, no. It's a quiet bar."
I still felt a bit wary. After all, my idea of quiet and a younger person's are bound to be different. I shouldn't have worried. It was the coolest.
We drove to a huge lookout above the coastline of Salina Cruz and drank beers from a nearby store by the wall. It couldn't have been any better.
The water looked too rough to do anything other than look in awe at the power of the ocean. Another friend with us told me there were a lot of sharks out there. Besides, it's contaminated. Salina Cruz is an oil refinery town.

It was a short visit but quality. Time well spent.
Thanks, Misael.
To all of Victor's students: Keep up the good work.

Nuevo domicilio

Here it is. My new apartment. Bigger, better and brighter than the last hat stand. Some days you just can't lose. Look at that nice clean tile floor. No more dirty green carpet for this lad.

Not only did I get the bulk of my deposit back from the last place but I had my smoothest visit to the Immigration Office ever when I made the update on my FM3. The apartment administrator took off 250 for paint and cleaning although the place needed a paint job when I arrived and I cleaned up behind behind myself pretty well. I didn't quibble since there was a hole in my bedroom door from the night I locked myself out. I hold them responsible for that since they put locks on some doors without providing keys but who wants to get in an argument when some might say my case was weak. I was glad to get out of there. I took that deposit and dropped it on a new camera.


Hey look. Three wicker swivel barstools

Arthur volunteered his big red truck and Mike showed up ready to pitch in with some heavy lifting. The whole move took less than half an hour. My entire worldly possessions didn't look like much out in the parking lot. A taxi could have taken most of it. We even threw the ten speed in. Mike drove me back to pick up the scooter and the administrator was there on the spot showing another apartment. I gave her the keys. Wahoo. I was gone.
Like the last place, it has a ton of furniture but it's all in better taste and doesn't feel excessive. You can still move around comfortably. I may even move a small work desk under one of the windows. I was afraid to call open house so I had a soft opening with just the regular gang, some semi-regulars and a couple of cool teachers visiting from Oaxaca City. There were maybe ten of us and furniture to spare. Good times.

Hidden behind my boogie board is a bottle opener embedded in the concrete wall. Nice touch.
Wind and light pour through these windows. There is a view. It's nothing panoramic but it's nice to look out and see palm trees and pigeons on the terra cotta roofs. My bedroom window window overlooks a pool.

Because I'm on the top floor I get a real patio. Right now it's still just a laundry area but it has such huge potential. The previous tenants left a barbecue, there will be no trouble hanging a hammock and there's plenty of room left for a little bistro table and a couple of chairs. Breakfast in the sun and dinner under the stars.

Spazz

The days of feeling timid on the scooter seem to be behind me. I have no illusions of being a great rider but, after a couple of- no wait, three- make that four- near disasters, I'm easing off on the throttle a tad. Even people who don't wear helmets themselves have been asking when I'm going to get one. The speedometer needle never reaches past 95 but another teacher, who tried and failed to pass me in her car on the way to work one morning, informed me I'd been doing well over 100. She also advised me to get a helmet and has been reminding me daily ever since.

I do a lot of joy-riding, just tearing along the roads with no particular destination. After splashing around La Bocana one Sunday with Will and Jasmine, I rode around for hours, checking out every little side road. Most of these exist just for scenic lookout points and are well worth the detour. I was going too fast after the steep hill between Entrega and Organo and completely forgot about the ginormous potholes. I hit a crater so hard the bike came to a hard stop. I shook and rattled a bit but I wasn't hurt and neither was the bike. If I'd been on the ten speed, I'd have been over the handle bars and spreading my skin across the asphalt.

My biggest daymares have always been about taking down an innocent bystander. That could have come true coming home around dusk last week. Between UMAR and town, is a split highway with 3 lanes each direction, perfect for ripping along like a rocket. I like to hang my mouth open and let the wind puff out my cheeks with tears pouring across my face. Fun. The only drawback is that the ride is over before Rancid can even finish playing "Some People Like Poison" and it's always way too soon to pull into the apartment block and park. Anyway, I was further to the right than necessary and I didn't notice this cyclist until I was much closer than I should have been. I probably wouldn't have clipped him but it was a solid wakeup call. I like to give cyclists lots more space than he had.

You know you're not a great driver when you almost plow yourself into the back of a parked bus. I was doing the max (maybe 110). I glanced in my mirror to double-check before changing lanes. Yep. Coast was clear. Whoa Nelly! In that quick glance, I'd covered a shocking amount of ground. I was right on top of that bus. I am a bad bad driver.

Worse than the mega-pothole was the big fat wasp that slapped my face and planted a stinger just below my eye at 80 kmh. I managed not to spazz completely and pulled over to the side. I peeled it off my face and its legs were still kicking. Ow. Ow. Ow. I felt like I'd been punched hard but I knew I could still punch the clock on time so I revved up again with a primal scream of frustration and pain that could be heard over the motor.

I had a sense of deja vu. It's been almost a year since the bicycle accident in Korea. Again I was heading to work with a swollen left eye. The damage wasn't as bad as I feared. I punched in and knocked on the medico's door. He gave me a prescription for anti-inflammatories or something. I don't know. By about 2 in the afternoon, it stopped hurting every time I smiled so I just put some ice on it when I got home.

I've been wanting to change apartments for a while now. I've never been quite content with the place but laziness and apathy have me kept me where I am. On days when I should be on the hunt for new digs, I tell myself that the place isn't so bad, in spite of the stupid carpet, the ugly peeling paint from the ceiling leak that took a month for the landlord to fix (the paint and paster may never be replaced), the non-working air conditioner, the toxic moldy cupboard, the ugly furniture. At least it's livable. But it keeps deteriorating and the owners never bother to do anything. This might have gone on indefinitely if it hadn't been for the blackout.

One night the power went out in several buildings for a few hours. Eventually it came back for everyone but me. Even the people above me had it but I went to sleep without a fan.

William thought I might not have paid my power bill. They don't wait too long down here. But I hadn't received a bill. No matter. Sometimes they get lost. OK. I went down to the power company (CFE)on my lunch break. They told me I hadn't been cut off and that the bills hadn't been sent out. I ended up paying a week early. I thought I understood the bulk of what the lady told me but I got Mike and Rowena on the phone to talk to her. When the power went out, the big fuses had had probably blown on the power box. Mike came right over to the apartment and I followed him through downtown traffic to a hardware store.

The first time we were separated in traffic, I was behind a young guy with an identical scooter to my own who said he'd had his for over a year without a single problem. Yay.

Mike installed the new fuses. No luck. A neighbor came by to help. Same result. I called the Residencial Chahue administrator. They would send someone over right. away. Eventually we had to go back to work and nobody had arrived. I stopped at the administrative office to ask about the holdup and the secretary promised me "Una hora mas". That was ominous. The last time I had a promise like that from these people, it was a week later before I saw any action. This time was no different. I was without power for a full six days and nights. A lot of food turned ripe and dangerous. I could rail on but you get the picture.

Some friends have said they liked the old dump and diudn't mind the nasty old carpet but they have never had to wake up to the place. What seems rustic and charming with a few drinks under the belt is just rotten and dirty when you smell it in the morning. The good times some of us have shared there had nothing to do with the locale and everything to do with the company. I know I won't feel sentimental about the mold.



Anyhow, I have a beautiful new apartment to move into tomorrow. It's clean and well maintained and basically the same price as the old one. It's going to be great.

Barra de la Cruz

Been meaning to visit la Barra since I got here. It's about 40 minutes from Crucecita and definitely worth the trip. I rode the scooter. The happy go lucky Huatulco split double-laned highway won't take you all the way but the regular road isn't half as scary as the one towards the airport. Drivers seemed more sensible and patient and there weren't as many of them. Beautiful countryside along the way.

Traffic was sane enough for me to try making a vid of the journey with the new Olympus in my left hand. It didn't interfere with steering too much. I'm not a daredevil. The problem was that the lens is in the upper left corner and I ended up with several minutes of my finger and the sound of the engine. You 'll have to take my word about how scenic the trip was.

The exit to la Barra is just about impossible to miss. Follow the Corona arrow to the right and down a poured concrete road until you reach the base of the hill. You're practically there. Pay 20 pesos at the gate and drive on through.

Turn to the right to circumvent the wetland lake. Surfers all start out at the cove at the end. Some of them end up swimming the lake as a shortcut on the way back. I'd rather walk myself.



The beach is huge. I'm guessing about 3 kms minimum but this is the cove where everyone goes. No bad currents as far as I can tell and the surfers can almost walk out to catch near perfect waves. They get quite the ride, often all the way back to the lake.
This leaves a lot of private beach space for anyone heading in the opposite direction.



My Olympus waterproof camera wasn't all it was supposed to. It died that day by the time I got home, probably from a small leak. Got my money back though. These pictures of Barra de la Cruz and my self portrait with the gob of lotion under my eye are all I have to show for this latest attempt at a camera.

Rio Copalita/ la Bocana

Day trip to La Bocana/Rio Copalita. Just before descending the final hill off the highway, there's this bright yellow structure to mark a scenic pullover lookout where you can see almost the entire beach and the river cutting it apart about a quater of the way. This is the tail end of Huatulco in that direction. The beautiful curvaceous highway comes to an abrupt stop after this point. Too bad. I wish that road could go on forever.




Another 26 km beyond is Barra de la Cruz, a beach I've been wanting to visit since I arrived here. Maybe I'll make it tomorrow. I need to get earlier starts to my days. It's back to reality on Monday and I won't be able to ignore the alarm when it goes off.

William joined me at La Bocana yesterday. We took turns playing with the boogie board and he made a good effort to catch some fish. It was the perfect way to kill an afternoon. Serious clouds stacked up out of nowhere and we hit the road. Saw lightning on the way home but it didn't break until some time past midnight.

This beach was reason enough alone to buy the scooter. It's a casual distance by scooter and the boogie board rests easily against the front. It's also the only beach in Huatulco where you can play in the waves. We have calm beaches for swimming that are almost always too crowded and beaches with steep inclines where the waves crash high right on the shore. Two exceptions are Violin and Organo. They don't get the same amount of traffic because to visitors they're only accessible by charter boat but we've all benefitted from Matt's explorations and know the trails.

As for today, maybe Conejos won't be too crowded.

Death Race 2009

"Don't look back 'cause something might be gaining on you."
(Satchel Paige)

Here it is, my new machine. I couldn't stand being without a camera any longer. Between this new Olympus (waterproof) and my scooter, the bonus money is gone. So what. I don't need it down here. Certainly not for cab fares.
One of my biggest fears when I bought this machine was that it would make me fat and lazy. My first night out, cruising slowly through a residential area, I felt a bit like a retired guy on a golf cart. It will only be a problem if I let it. So far I've been pedalling all day today. I have promised myself to pedal my way to work next week, just like before, but I know the temptation to burn gas over calories is going to be strong, especially in the afternoon when I soak my clothes with sweat. Meanwhile, other teachers whizz on by, feeling only their own cool refreshing breeze.

Two days ago, I had the scariest ride yet. My legs were vibrating from residual terror when I finally got off. Riding around Huatulco, even way out to Rio Copalita/La Bocana, is rather serene. No one seems to go too fast and if anyone feels the need for speed, it's all a curvaceous double-laned split highway. The other direction, towards the airport, is a different story. One narrow lane each direction, nowhere to pull over, lots of sharp blind turns and tons of traffic in a godawful hurry.

This was my biggest journey on the scooter yet, all the way to San Augustin. I'd been warned that the road off the highway was more than a little rugged. It certainly lived up to the hype but it was the 2 lane highway before the turnoff that took some years off my life. As soon as I passed UMAR, I was in a different world. All that traffic tailgating me and I was going as fast as possible to appease them all so they didn't get so antsy they tried passing on a turn. According to the signs, I was speeding. No one should be taking a "curvas pelligrosa" faster than 40kmh but I had to do a few at 50 although the signs said 30. I had to refuse to do the 50 trick after a few dangerous sweeps into the oncoming lane. Some of the oncomers were drifting my way as well. 40 became my absolute limit.

Given any choice, I would have gladly pulled over or pulled right around but there was no choice. I was on that road until at least the airport, my face tight and grim. After miles of turns there finally came a straight away and the speed limit jumped to 80. I didn't have the nerve for it by that time. I managed 73. Best that I could do. There were still potholes to look out for. It had been several kilometres back since I'd last looked in my mirrors. I didn't want to know. People started passing me and each other in both directions. I don't relate.

The speed zone only lasted for the lenght of one valley. At the peak, I saw the sign dropping us straight back down to thirty. Most were going too fast to see it. Right up ahead was the entrance to the airport. Lights flashed from federales cars and a lot of vehicles were pulled over. Thinking this was like an army checkpoint, I pulled over too. They were surprised to see me. The rest were there by special invitation. I asked, in Ed-Spanish, how much further to the turnoff. Not far. Less than a minute ahead. I could have made it to the Pochutla exit no problem. Another day.

The off road to San Augustin was just as primitive as promised. A heavy rain just the night before had washed away half the road at places. But I didn't mind. I could bump along all those hazards at my own speed with no one to hustle me along. And I learned what my bike could and couldn't do. it goes completely wacky in the mud. There was a wet river crossing. Washboard concrete carried you across a stream under two inches of water. fine. The trick is to rev a bit before getting on and let momentum carry you over. That concrete is covered in old slime and you might end up in the river if you give it some gas. Just a word of warning in case you ever pass that way.

Test drives

I believe I have the brake/accelerator on the new scooter completely straight now so no more little accidents. I had it parked on the sidewalk in Tangolunda surrounded by 6 inch curbs. It was easy rolling it down the curb. I just gave it a touch of gas and it was up and over but I wasn't sitting on it and it dragged me ahead, my hand tightening on the gas. It could have been a lot worse. I smashed into a wire mesh fence. Not an expensive car or a small child. It pulled free and I was out of there before anyone caught on that I had no business on any motorized vehicle. There wasn't even a scratch on the bike and my sore knuckles felt fine after a day.

I'm missing the camera every day.

I finally made it La Bocana/Rio Copalita on the bike. Fantastic. There is surf. It starts with a small cove. You might not have to climb some hazardous rocks at low tide but I had to to reach the beach beyond and the river. There were a few steps I didn't want to make but a pack of surfers had just passed carrying their boards so I figured I was just being a big chicken. I made it.

There's no way to cross the river as it pours into the Pacific without swimming. I'll save that for another day. A young lady warned me to swim diagonally. If I ended up in the ocean, there was a whirlpool waiting at the end. Some people struggled to land on the other side. Their friends extended helping hands. The surfers didn't seem to have any problems. They cut right through the current on their boards.

On the other side, people swam in a calmer spread-out basin of the river. There must be 2 miles of beach on the other side and no way to reach it without swimming the river so without an air-tight floating bag everything has to be abandoned. I thought there had to be a road there but there isn't. I took the scooter back to the highway and drove far enough to realize I had left the beach area far far behind.

There was a long stretch of straight road and I had the needle up to 80 for the first time. That was almost too exciting It felt a lot faster and I might have been doing 100 because the needle is much slower than the bike. I eased off. A speed bump or pothole would have finished me. Did I mention I don't have a helmet yet? I'm going to get one. Soon. Sure, riding without one is cool, like smoking, but I'm more afraid of surviving with a massive head injury than dying.