Mexico Photo Book

Snapshots, quotes and good memories. Enjoy!

 

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Mexico Wrap Up

I've been home for two weeks and have been taking my sweet time posting the last four weeks of our trip. So the cliff note version is this: Mark and Andrew fished for crocodiles, we went to a funeral and wedding in the same weekend, and finished the trip at the Copper Canyons which are said to be 6 times larger than the Grand Canyon and the part of the trip I looked most forward to.

Before all the craziness, we stopped at Chacala for endless hours of cards, backgammon, beach volleyball, stray dog lovin, and down time.

So here we go. Yes, this actually happened. Mark spotted a crocodile and pulled over, told Andrew to get the fishing pole, then God knows why, but he casted and CAUGHT THE CROCODILE. It was probably 8-10 feet and it was splashed around like crazy until Andrew broke the line. What were they thinking? We never know with them.

Once we pulled up to Jose's house (for the second time since October), he told me his father passed away the night before and the funeral was in an hour. The coolest thing about that funeral was the burial. The family buried him there (cement and all) instead of leaving it for the cemetery officials to handle.

At the burial, the widow of Jose's dad told us her son was to be married the following day and we were invited. It was awesome for two reasons. The first because the same group of people we saw mourning on Saturday were in celebration on Sunday. The second because they invited us the day before the wedding unlike American weddings where you can't show up unless you have an invite. That family is the most loving, giving, gracious group of people I'll ever meet.

From Aticama, we headed to El Fuerte for the beginning of our week in the Copper Canyons. El Fuerte is an old Spanish Colonial town and it holds a lot of beautiful history. From there, we took the train to Creel and at one of the stops, Tarahumara Indians come up to the train to sell their baskets made of pine and apple empanadas.

In Creel, we ventured for a family hike to a 900 foot waterfall and a view that reminded me a lot of Yosemite. We walked down and hung at the water pool at the bottom, then hiked up and around the rim. We bought some Pinole and souvenirs then headed back to Divisadero where all the views were.

Our last days in Divisadero were what I'd been waiting 6 months to do. Andrew and I started our Mexican journey in September and slept either in the van, or tent. Spending our last nights watching the sun rise and set over the canyon from a hotel room was quite the finale to our trip.

I read the book "Born to Run" a few years ago and since then had become obsessed with the idea of visiting these canyons. Over 60,000 Tarahumara Indians live in the canyons and run with sandals made of old tires. They run 60-100 miles per day. They are shy people and you wouldn't know a house unless you were sitting right on top of one. They trade corn for wool and live on the most basic amenities. Most of them don't speak Spanish; they have their own language. Their smiles are contagious and cheeks are permanently rosy from the cold air. Their energy is spread throughout the canyons and hiking through them was an unforgettable experience.

It was bittersweet leaving Mexico yet some memories will never leave me such as mangy dogs, topes and pot holes, military check points, dirt roads, "todo derecho," and the music - so loud... why so loud? I already feel homesick for that ugly beautiful country, but when I saw Jayme running down the driveway screaming for her Bebba, I was happy to be home. In the end, there's no place like home and until I get another itch, memories of Mexico and the company of family will keep me happy.

Parasites and Paradise

After the surf went from this photo to flat, we decided it was time to head north. I caught some kind of bug which we all debated between Dengue, the flu, or maybe just a parasite but either way, I'm glad the days of lying on the bathroom floor are over.

We had a fun last day decorating Pols with all the sunscreen Zinka sent us, and I left with memories of the funny things Pols says:

Pols: "Hey Angie, what's the necklace you're wearing?"
Andrew: "It's a Nami Nami, the river god of the Zambezi" (he goes on to tell Pols the history of it.)
Pols: "Hm... I reckon that's crap"

Dave: "I come from a land down under"
Pols: "Yeah Dad that's great, but I come from a land of tacos and I want to eat one right now, so let's go" 

Becca: "My stomach hurts"
Pols: "Well, if you eat the salsa, make sure to put the toilet paper in the freezer so it's cold on your bum" 

Pols: "Mmm... This taco is orgasmic!"
Becca: "Do you even know what that means?"
Pols: "Yeah I googled it last night"

I love this kid!!! 

On our way up to meet the parentals, we stopped at a couple beautiful beaches. Kiwi Dave taught me how to make salsa so I put that to practice with a fish Andrew so proudly speared. The rest of those two days were spent playing on a wide open, empty beach. The first was La Peñita and the second night was just north or it. On the road to Puerto Vallarta, you can veer left off the main highway and this is what you'll find.

It's a good thing I was paying attention and wasn't on auto pilot like I usually am when driving because the road to Arroyo Seco was out to get me.

We made it to Puerto Vallarta, picked up Mark and Nancy and headed to Sayulita where a beautiful hill side house awaited us along with a ton of down time. That first night, Nancy made soup and just the smell of thyme trickling into my room made me think of home (mostly Christmas). She also makes a mean Choffee (hot chocolate and coffee).

It's so nice having them here because there's nothing better than family, really. It also means we're closer to coming home! I woke up Valentine's Day to find pajamas from Nancy (she bought us matching ones :), and Andrew was the most excited because that meant I could get rid of my "party pants" which everyone hates.

The only moment I've hated so far, was hearing a loud explosion in the kitchen. Mark and I were outside reading and when we heard it, both our hearts stopped. We ran in to find Andrew and Nancy catching their breath after the oven exploded. Luckily, they were both okay. Mark said an extra prayer of thanks before dinner that night and I think I hugged Andrew and Nancy about 20 times - so thankful!

Groms, Kooks, and Creepers

Pascuales.
Big, heavy, hollow, fast, did I say heavy yet?

This wave is not for me but I've enjoyed watching Andrew and 10 year old "Pols" and his friend Alan.
Where Pol's name originated:
Rolando
Rollie Pollie
Pols

Yes, that's right, two 10 year olds surf this wave and I want nothing to do with it unless it's small (still throws me on my ass).

I've become quite fond of Pols, who is Kiwi Dave's son (the guy we're staying with). Dave is from New Zealand, married a Mexican and Pols is fluent in both languages.
Right out of a nap, Pols will stumble sleepily over to his bow and arrow, and when he's bored with that he'll come over to me and say in his kiwi accent, "Boom Boom Becca, do you want to go surfin' board ridin' or body wompin'?" Every day, he paints his face a different color with all 8 Zinkas we gave him.

Top: Pols, Andrew and Alan (10 years old!)
Bottom Left: Pols playfully snaking Andrew
Mid Right: Andrew being selective
Bottom Right: Pols and his war paint 

The rips here are unreal and they don't take long to sweep you out. The other day, Pols and I were swimming when I heard the whistle blow and I looked to the beach to see Pol's 16 year old brother sprinting towards the water with the other two life guards. I looked out and saw two guys being swept out to sea so I yelled at Pols to go in, then sprinted my way over to the guys
...on a full stomach and rum 'n coke. Fail.

I swam out to Juna (Pol's brother) and he told me to grab the guys arm and this guy just had a look of terror on his face when I told him we had to go "abajo" because two set waves were about to hit us.
I'd never been gripped onto so tightly.

Once we got them in, they told me it'd been 6 years since going to the beach and they weren't the best swimmers (ya think?) The lifeguard Carlos and I gave them a quick lesson on swimming out of rips and I tried not to throw up.
Don't want to waste a good rum n' coke.

I never realized some people don't know how to swim in the ocean (thank you, Mom for teaching me about rips at a young age!)

The thing about rips here, is they're super wide so it takes awhile to swim out of them. On my evening "body wompin'" session with Mr. Pols that same day, he got swept out super quick and I swam after him. Somehow, he scorpioned his little body out of it and passed right by me. By the time I got out, we were both exhausted but laughing about the irony of me saving someone from a rip earlier, then being taken away myself. Humility at it's finest as the ocean reminded me of it's unpredictable nature.

Top: Mexican fisherman, Dave and Pols
Bottom: Creepers watching me take photos, Lifeguards Simon and Carlos

I haven't left a quote or Bible verse at the end of my recent blogs so I'll leave you with one of each! Hasta luego amigos.

"If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there'd be a shortage of fishing poles."
-Doug Larson

"Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds." - Matthew 6:25-26 MSG

Saladita and Nexpa II

Not much to report since the last post. I love Mexico more every day, I've become obsessed with pelicans and the ice cream in Michoacan, and I can still eat tacos for every meal.

So we spent Christmas in Saladita with some small but fun surf (good thing for long boards). I fell in love with a puppy we named "mini mange" and the camping was pretty epic - secluded, quiet, clean and the perfect place to spend a mellow Christmas.

We made our way back to our beloved, Nexpa. A piece of my heart has been left there permanently and it was bittersweet to leave after a month. Some of the highlights included sunrise beach runs, coffee and journal time, choco-banana smoothies, learning to do a legit bottom turn, watching whales jump  every day, and cooking on the disco over the fire. It was also fun to see so many girls in the water. About 10 girls from Canada showed up and with the few of us already there, we took over the line up.

Andrew thinks I have way too many journals and he might be right just by looking at that stack. Between the book on top and my Bible on the bottom, four journals might need to be slimmed down to one this year. Although, realistically I'll probably acquire one more for good measure. Five is my lucky number after all.

We're posted up in Pascuales for a few weeks until heading north to Aticama again. The lady we stayed with on the way down passed away recently so we'll be paying a visit there for a week with Andrew's parents before heading to the Copper Canyons (so stoked for this). Probably won't have much more to post before then. I'm still living the dream and don't want to wake up!

The film crew from Forge made an awesome video of the boys kayaking in Tlapacoyan so you can see what these crazy boys got themselves into. Not nerve racking at all... Cascada

Nexpa to Nexpa

Hooray to no more busses!  I traveled nearly 40 hours by bus in 2 days and I'm thankful to be done with that. After Rio Nexpa with the girls and a two day pamper in Puerto Vallarta with Pops and Alex, I was ready to get back to Andrew and the van.

Round 1 of Nexpa was a success, and luckily my girls and I got some great waves. Besides bed bugs and jellyfish stings all over my body, it was an awesome trip. We met some really great people and I think the highlight was a group bonfire on the beach with everyone in town. Kyle and Gabby were great hosts at Rio Nexpa Rooms and I can't wait to go back.

Top: Clean-up set
Middle: Turkey vultures, Erika and I successful in Rikki having a beer, girl play time
Bottom: View of it all 

In Puerto Vallarta with Pops and Alex, it was Italian food, fancy cocktails by the beach, salon pampering, and nights on the town. Once we were out, I had my boobs grabbed by the waitress, Alex got the elevator eyes from men (PV has a very large gay population), and I was really happy to have a cold and not able to smell anything because I forgot how rancid my dad and brother smell.

Now it's back to tacos, cheap beer, bug spray, and going to bed by 8. On our way up, Andrew and I stopped at a few cool little spots. Playa Ventura is off the beaten path and we didn't want to stay in the concrete jungle of Acapulco (heinous) so we stayed here a couple nights. Not expecting anything really, we found a surf-able wave with no one on it, locals kids that kept asking me for kisses, and turkeys that sounded like old women laughing.

From there we headed towards Zihuatanejo and planned to stay the night somewhere on the beach. We headed down what seemed to be a road and landed at this little gem hidden behind the shrubbery. With not a soul out, we grabbed our boards for a sunset session. Fire ants and Andrew's ear infection kicked us out this morning and now we're heading back towards Truncones/Nexpa area for Christmas where it's going to be sand angels and hammock lounging. La buena vida continues.

Happiness

Currently, Andrew and I are en route north at Playa Ventura somewhere between Huatulco and Acapulco. I'm watching the sun rise with a cup of cinnamon coffee, listening to the waves and Marc Cohn, thankful as ever. Pelicans are flying by, low over the ocean. Up, down, side to side, they are in perfect, effortless unison. What a life that must be.

It's funny though, how I have to watch this morning routine of theirs in order to appreciate my own blessings in life. I'm sure somewhere, someone has watched me in the ocean, early in the morning, wishing they had my life as they drank their cup of joe.

In his book, "The Age of Absurdity," Michael Foley translates Jacques Rousseau's vision of happiness: "if you have it, you can't be aware of it, and if you are aware of it, you can't have it." He also makes the point of happiness sometimes being recognized only retrospectively, after it's lost.

It's easy to look in my memory bank to remember some of life's greatest times, but to be present and happy in the moment sometimes slips away from me. Always trying to make something what it used to be, or what it could be, when in reality, I'm going to look back at this morning and realize how perfect it was.

It's a good thing the morning isn't over and I still have time to appreciate it. Life is good, and I'm as happy as I've ever been. Now it's time to swim with the pelicans.

"God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing."- C.S. Lewis

Painting Busses and Giving Interviews

I'm en route to the west coast for surfing and family time. Flights are expensive and the boys need our van on the east coast which leaves me with the only option, take the bus. 

Since I forgot to take Dramamine until right before getting on the 5 1/2 hour bus ride to Mexico City this morning, it took me all of 10 minutes to lose my breakfast. Fail. Since the bathroom was occupied and of course I couldn't hold it in, I painted the back of that bus, only to clean it up with my bare hands. EPIC fail. It's a good thing for hand sanitizer and as all of you could guess, I spent the next five hours hovering the toilet.

Once in Mexico City, I decided to spend the money I don't have on a flight to my next destination because 15 more hours in a bus sounded HEINOUS. Still vomiting, I got the airport and saw there was a flight leaving in 30 minutes. Perfect. Except the lady told me it was $200 for the flight, and get ready for this... $300 for my boards (yyyeah). I just smiled and walked away, accepting defeat.

I felt like I was going to lose it again so I bolted to the bathroom only to be stopped by a girl who assumed I spoke English and kindly asked if she could interview me. FML. I felt like God was really picking on me at that point. I sat with her for 10 minutes as she asked me what I liked most about Mexico, why I come here, etc. Her entire family was there and had a video camera three inches from my face. Gotta love 6th grade school projects. 

Dinner at the bus station 

 I got a cab back to the bus station and met Jesus, who lectured me on why I'm not married with at least a child at 28 years old. Ay yei yei. I suppose it would be strange to a 46 year old man who already has grand kids (his daughter is 31...whhha?) He was nice though and told me to have a shot of 1800 in his name once I made it to the beach in the morning. 

So I've made it to the bus station where I found a corner to lay down and re-coupe with a 7-Up, peanut butter sandwich, and a surprise note from my love that's keeping a smile on my face. I've been approached twice now asking if I'm "that one actress in the 'Corona' telenovela." At the end of a day like this, all I can do is laugh because memories aren't always made because things go right...right? 

Jacomulco y Punta de Partida

After a Thanksgiving tailgate in the Bodega parking lot, a crew of us ventured south for a few days to Jacomulco to stay with our friend Misael. He had a double kayak so that was my opportunity to take a stab at kayaking. FAIL. I thought I would be much better at reading white water but after flipping twice, leaving Andrew (who was very patient) and I both scratched and bruised, it was apparent I'm best to stick with surfing.

After three days in Jacomulco, we came to Punta Roca Partida, home of the Rio de Oro. The take out from the Oro is the river mouth so we took the opportunity to camp on the beach for a couple days (leaving the double behind). It's a nice change of pace and it feels good to be living outdoors again with the added bonus of east coast sun rises and a full moon shining on the ocean. Besides "Gangnam Style" being loudly (sooo loudly) repeated every minute on the Mexican Jukebox, and the occasional dog fights, things are pretty peaceful.

The scenery here surpasses all I've seen thus far. I went for a run the other day and the confused looks from both the locals and cows fueled my desire to keep running until I reached a lookout to the ocean. (The concept of running for pleasure hasn't reached this town either). Usually, five miles at high noon with no food or water would be enough for me, but after the ocean view with wildlife surrounding me, I was fueled with all the energy I needed to turn around and take in another five to get back to camp.

Next week I'll be taking a much needed break from boys and heading to the west coast to surf with Rikki and Erika. Even if we get skunked on swell which is quite possible this time of year, it will be nice to get in the water with my girls again. It's going to take me two days to get there by bus so I'm sure I'll have some good stories for you. Until then, que tengan un buen dia.

Rainy Days

Today, I woke up home sick. Nothing in particular sparked it, but I felt so far away from home, I actually started crying. I didn't know how to get ahold of myself so I went for a walk and asked God to come with me. Different prayers came to the surface of my thoughts and all I did was embrace the storm passing through. 

I thought of my little sister who just got engaged to her high school sweetheart. I thought of my niece, my best girl, growing so fast and prays for me every day on her own as she says, “Bebba, safe, Mexico.” I thought of Sis who is two months from giving birth to my nephew and two weeks from moving into their new home and needs me now more than ever. I thought of my little brother who is doing amazing things with the church and taking risks going to Juarez to share with the people of Mexico. I thought of my parents who worry about me more than they need to. All I could do was cry. 

12 years later, she circled "yes"

All these thoughts and worries came storming though all at once and I was overwhelmed. Then I remembered a quote I read recently by Freya Stark: “To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.”  Of the 308 million-plus citizens in the United States, 30% have passports (CNN 2011). Everyone dreams of traveling the world, but very few actually do it. I'm one of the lucky few, living the dream. Not the American dream, but my own.

Before walking back to the house, I noticed an old woman in her apron carrying a bucket full of something heavy. With very little effort, she hiked up the hill with a smile on her face. She stopped and looked at me, as I sat on the sidewalk with my head in my hands and tears on my cheeks. She looked me right in the eye and said, “what a beautiful day it is today.” And she left, saying nothing more. 

I realized then how lucky I am to wake up in this foreign town, and the old woman who has probably never left this small town of Jacomulco, was here to remind me of the beauty of this world. Sometimes I get caught up in my own world and forget to look around to see what’s really going on. The world keeps on turning, with or without me and it's a beautiful thing. I'm traveling and that in itself is a blessing. Once home from Mexico, I will have no job, no money, no plan, and that's okay because someone else has it all mapped out for me. Bring on the rain. 

Matthew 6:3-4

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." 

Todo es Posible, Nada es Seguro

...so goes the motto of each new day in Mexico. 

Rafa on Big Banana (Left) and Tomata 1

The boys are going big here in Tlapacoyan starting with Galen, the invincible 17 year old from Ithaca, New York, who will run anything saying “it’s good to go.” A few days ago, camera crews arrived and offered to pay the $200 fee for Gaylin to extend his flight if they could get a shot of him running down Big Banana Falls. Without hesitation, he agreed and 12 hours later was charging down the 2nd largest waterfall in the world to be run in a kayak (128 feet). The next day, motivation and adrenalin ran through the rest of the boys and fired them up to run the smaller, yet stout, Tomata 1. 

Boomer decided it was time to ditch his kayak and take the 60 foot Tomata down with a stand up paddle board (yyyyyeah). It’s easy to get fired up here when camera crews and energy are never ending. All survived the day with a few aches and pains and after Riley had a not-so-good line and had to swim, Marlow told him, “your mum would eat you for breakfast!” but Riley was fine and still stoked on life (like always). I would have to say, I’m thankful none of these boys’ mothers are here because I’ve only known these guys for two weeks and I think my blood pressure has nearly doubled. 

Top Left: Ica charging Tomata, All the boys contemplating, Marlow on a sketchy ledge helping the camera crew
Bottom Left: Boomer and Tyler doing some yoga before the drop, Riley on his way down Tomata 

Tomata having its way with Boomer 

Ozzies, a Kiwi, and Montezuma's Revenge

Oh My...

We met some amazing boys here at Adventurec in Vera Cruz. Two of them are from Australia (Riley and Marlow), one of them from New Zealand (Sandy), yet all three live in Canada which I’ve come to find out is very common. I don’t know if it’s their positive attitude, politeness, accent, or all three combined, but I love these boys. Riley in particular is always just so stoked on life. 

Every time I look over at him, he’s grinning from ear to ear and I have no idea what goes on in his head. He also rocks a sweet mullet so how could I not love this kid? Marlow is always without shoes and can’t smile without his tongue hanging out, and Sandy kinda just cruises around, open for any conversation and never turns down a beer. Everything they say ends with “ay?” and it’s become quite contagious around here.  

We’ve only been here a few days and the boys are already walking zombies with bodies sore from head to toe. The other 7 of us in the hostal are getting over a two-day Montezuma’s Revenge and we’re guessing we all ate the same thing but no one is sure. I walked out of my room yesterday on my way to vomit, and Smiley Riley says “WOW you look like shit, ay?” Five hours later, he was in the same boat. Gotta love Mexico.  

Top Left: Riley charging Meat Locker, Andrew scouting the 40ft fall into Silencio
Middle Left: Marlow scouting the 62ft Tomata 1, Boys at Big Banana Falls, Chris at Meat Locker
Bottom Left: Smiley Riley, Marlow 

Mainland Part 1

Aw the dreaded ferry. I made it alive after 18 hours. I only got dizzy once and we slept outside under the stars with fresh air to save both money and the chance for me to lose my dinner. The best part of the ferry was the movie selection. Wow, Mexicans have no boundaries. With more children on board than adults, the movies they played were both Hangovers, and Apocolypto, which they chose to play at breakfast while I ate machaca. Straight up disturbing.

We spent a few days with Jose and Petra who Andrew's dad met about 25 years ago and they've been like family ever since. We did nothing active, ate way too much food, had an unforgettable church experience from the 1950's, saw some crocodiles, and hiked into a waterfall where I was unsuccessful in my cliff jumping and as a result, have a bruise the size of Texas on my leg. 

We didn't spend more than a day in Puerta Vallarta but we did make it to the set of "Predator" where Andrew and Chris took the crowd by surprise and went down the waterfall in front of the restaurant. We also found some puppies and I wanted one so badly until I remembered I'm living in a van for the next five months. We stopped at an overpriced campground, then headed out dark and early the next morning. 

After 14 hours of driving towards San Luis Potosi through crazy Guadalajara, we stopped for some tacos at sundown. We asked the owner if she knew of any good/safe places to camp and instead went in search of her sister, Magdelena, who insisted we stay in her house for the night. She said to come by anytime - just bring wine. I could tell she enjoyed our company as much as we did her hospitality. 

Once in Ciudad Vallez, the boys ran Puente de Dios which is a double tear waterfall and the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. It was surreal and only one of many places I'll get to see in Mexico. We stayed in El Naranjo and camped near the Micos, Minas Viejas, and El Salto which all have their fair share of beauty. Vera Cruz is our next mission and on our way we stopped at the Tajin ruins to break up the 10 hours drive. Once in Vera Cruz it was goodbye tan, hello frizzy hair and mosquitos.

Sugar Cane and Plantains

Running through sugar cane fields in San Luis Potosi is now a memory as I get acquainted with banana tree paradise in Tlapacoyan, Veracruz. The amount of open land in Mexico is beyond what I ever expected to find. At Minas Viejas in SLP, I could run as far as my legs would take me through sugar cane fields and hills overlooking green fields with horses and cows. One of my favorites there was through the fields at Rio Salto, and on our way out of town, we pulled over to the side of the road so I could capture this photo as a memory of that run.

Now in Tlapacoyan, we’ve unloaded the van to get cozy at Adventurec which is the most amazing place for kayakers to post up. Sleeping outside hasn’t been bad, but it’s definitely a treat to have a room with shelter from the rain. Weather here is cooler, yet still humid so the mosquitoes are most abundant and find every exposed part of my body to leave their mark. Besides my unmanageable curly hair, and pink calamine lotion on every piece of clothing, I really like it here and found a run I could definitely get used to. 

I dropped the boys and our new Australian/Kiwi friends off at the top of their kayak run, Big Banana, then parked it to go back and run the trail. It’s 6 miles of straight incline on dirt road surrounded with banana trees. An old lady picking bananas stopped me to ask where on earth I came from and why, the next guy told me I must be a gringa because only gringos were crazy to run, then a truck stopped and the asked if I needed a ride somewhere because apparently no one in these parts has seen people run without running from something. On my return back down the hill, the second guy was waiting for me with two oranges and insisted I ate them to stay nourished. As I ran by with a quick “gracias,” and a giggle, he shook his head in disbelief. I love Mexico. 

When the Boys are Away

If you’re wondering what I do while the boys are kayaking, here it is: drop them off at put-in, wait around for a few hours, pick them up at take-out, drive back up if they want to make the run again, wait another few hours, pick them up. This will go on for the next couple months, and yes, I do it for free with no complaints. Why? Oh please, let me tell you. 

Not only do I get a break from living with boys, I get to explore Mexico. Between yesterday and today, I’ve hiked to secluded pools, ran through sugar cane fields, and right now I’m drinking an ice cold Chelada overlooking a 100 foot waterfall. All these things done in peace and quiet (minus one crazy dog that chased me down in the sugar cane fields yesterday). Rabies shots-- check. 

“To sit in solitude, to think in solitude, with only the music of the stream and the cedar to break the flow of silence, here lies the value of wilderness.” -John Muir

La Chiquita Gordita

How can something I love so much, the one thing I would give anything for, not love me in return? No matter how much I express my constant (ever so constant) unconditional love, all I get is a sick feeling in my stomach and an extra five pounds on my waist line. This is the worst relationship I've ever been in.

No, I’m not talking about my boyfriend. I’m talking about my obsession with Mexican food (specifically, tortillas). 

I’ve always been able to consume copious amounts of food, but as soon as I crossed the border into Mexico, my capabilities somehow increased. It doesn’t help staying with a family who feeds me until I’ve had my fill, then throws in an extra serving on top of that just to make sure. Here is a play-by-play of a day in Aticama:

Morning: Instant Nescafe, eggs, beans, avocado, tortillas, and banana pancakes “solo para probar” (just to try)

Mid-Morning: Machete open some coconuts, lay in a hammock, forget any physical activity

Afternoon: Homemade, oyster enchiladas, followed by an extra made with chicken “solo para probar” 

Early Evening: Walk to el centro, sit on the beach,  4 tostadas, I’m stuffed, I’ll have a magnum chocolate bar

Evening: Watch some telenovelas, eat cookies, escape to my room to keep myself from eating anything more

Here in la casa de Perez, no one goes hungry thanks to my amiga Blanca who won’t eat until everyone has had seconds, then afterwards makes me another pancake so I can sit with her while she eats. They want me to pruebalo “try it” and it’s rude not to try their food, so of course I indulge. 

Apodos, nicknames, are given to everyone in Aticama. El Gordo, El Hippie, La Blanca, La Bebe Fea (most beautiful baby ever), Chuy, and now me, La Chiquita Gordita. In order to build a healthy relationship, I will be taking a break from my beloved up in the mountains of San Luis Potosi and Vera Cruz, where I will trade in the tortillas for quinoa, magnum ice cream bars for vegetables, and hammocks for running shoes. 

But not until after breakfast. We still have a kilo of tortillas to bid adieux. 

Contentment Through Simplicity

My family does a good job at keeping my birthday very simple, yet meaningful. The only two gifts I received before I left for Mexico, came from my sisters. The one in particular was from Joben. She got an idea from her previous travels, to give a small, plastic magnetic picture frame with a photo of us being silly (below). It’s light, doesn’t take up any packing room, and is a constant reminder of my family. On the back she wrote something short and sweet without getting too mushy, even though she probably wanted to. 

Today, I reached into my computer bag and pulled out the picture frame, only to have it fall apart on my bed. I thought I ruined it and was pretty bummed, but as I successfully put it back together, I noticed for the first time, an insert from her daily devotional (whether or not she put it there on purpose, I’m not sure). It reads like this: 

“I say it is better to be content with what little you have. Otherwise, you will always be struggling for more, and that is like chasing the wind.” -Ecclesiastes 4:6

“When it comes to evaluating your life, God’s scales weigh differently than yours. Seeing through His eyes, the smallest things can bring you the deepest joy. When you embrace your life just as it is, you can lay down the struggle for what might be or might have been. You can feel the lessing of contentment that, for this moment, your life is the perfect starting place for the next step in the journey.” 

The smallest things can indeed bring me deepest joy. It’s easy for me to get caught up in the world I live in, forgetting to be thankful for the little things. I’m lucky enough to have a little sister who can remind me through a piece of paper of how great my life is right where it is - not where I’ve been, or where I’m going or not going. Right here, right now, watching “How I Met Your Mother” from a computer, in a motel, drinking a $4 bottle of Sangria from a gas station in Mexico, while the town dries out from a hurricane, is exactly where I’m supposed to be. 

I don’t have to worry about where my life is going because that’s already handled for me. This clever little sister of mine, also added a useful Bible verse after her short and sweet note: 

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of it’s own.” - Matthew 6:34 

Hurricane Paul, Conejo y Más

"He draws up the drops of water which distill as rain to the streams; the clouds pour down their moisture and abundant showers fall on mankind." - Job 36:27

Baja brings much adventure, critters, waves, and most recently a hurricane. I just recently finished the book of Job, where I found this verse. The timing of finding this verse and Hurricane Paul was most amusing to me. We spent the last four days or so in Conejo and so far, that was my favorite wave. We heard there was a hurricane in Cabo and the waves improved immensely because of it. We took advantage of it, until one dark morning when gusts of wind and rain kicked us out of camp, bringing us to the flooded city of La Paz where we'll wait until Thursday to take the dreaded 18 hour ferry to mainland as I consume copious amounts of dramamine.

When we aren't surfing, our days ::ahem:: the boy's days consist of fishing, hunting kangaroo rats, turkey vultures, scorpions, and snakes, while I fight off mosquitos and do some reading, journaling, and yoga. It's been an adjustment without Todd here, but we're hoping he'll join us again next month. As you can see by all the photos, they are always getting into something exciting, and if it's not exciting, they will find a way to make it so.

Living with boys has taken some getting used to for me. So far, I've had to surrender my usual custom of one sponge for the dishes and one sponge for wiping off dirty surfaces, sleeping in, vanilla creamer, and taking showers on a regular basis. We now use one sponge for everything, wake up with the sun (or whenever Andrew wants everyone to wake up), use sugar instead of creamer, and shower in the ocean (as fresh water is not always available). These outdoor living, stinky, river boys are teaching me a thing or two about what it's like to really live dirtbag style.

Not being in constant communication with my family is also an adjustment for me. I usually talk to each of them at least once a day, so taking that down to once a week (if that) has taken a lot of getting used to for all of us. I miss my little nugget who doesn't quite understand how she can't feed me, hug me, or kiss me. All she knows is "Bebba Skype" means she gets to see me and talk to me on the computer, while she persistently tries to hug, kiss, and share her snacks with continuous interception from a screen.

We're looking forward to the days ahead in mainland spending time with family friends, hopeful kayaking in Puerto Vallarta, and doing some much needed laundry :) This will probably be my last post for a few weeks. Until then, the tortillas...

Abreojos and Scorpion Bay

Since internet is very random, I've been journaling every day and when I post blogs from now on, they are probably a few days, maybe even weeks old but you'll get the picture. This is from October 11. If you want to see all the photos, keep checking into the Baja Album

We are currently sitting at la Taqueria de Cristi in Scorpion Bay where I’m playing with Abraham and his 2 week old puppy, Bobby. Abraham is 5 and is fascinated with the computer camera and all the different effects. Even his grandmother (Cristi, owner of the taqueria) came out to have a look. Last night we brought in 3 large filets of corvina fish for her to make into tacos while we sat and enjoyed the gringo watching. Lots of retirees and LHB’s as my girls in Long Beach like to say. LHB’s are “leather hand bags” and it’s what people look like after too many years in the sun. I saw one lady who looked like Laird Hamilton, and you could imagine her not being the most feminine.  

Scorpion Bay is not the most convenient place to get to. You have to go down and back up the peninsula a few hours, but when there is swell, it’s world class and people come in from all over to get one of the longest rights. There are three main points and some say when 
it’s good, you can catch it from the 3rd point down to the 1st point, but I don’t think that’s happening on this trip. I’ve been practicing walking on the long board with all the old men and fat children who populate this small town. We’re in for another couple days, hoping the swell comes through tomorrow, and if not, we’re out maybe to Conejo. 

We’re now sitting on the side of the road, losing one of our crew, as Todd tries to hitch hike his way back home to a girlfriend in Montana we all hope is still there. Todd is the neutralizer in the group. He’s mellow and reminds everyone how easy life is. This morning, I woke up on the beach (first time sleeping outside for me) and Todd walks up and says:

“Good morning, seniorita. Welcome to the restaurant of dirtbags. Today we have coffee and oats. If you don’t like oats, there’s peanut butter. If you don’t like peanut butter, we have a bag of candy... for the kids...” 

Before Scorpion Bay was Abreojos. What a great spot, except those damn flies. The point was fun, but broke right over rocks, which of course  was a bit of a deterrent for me. My favorite spot was Petequi’s (not sure how to spell it). It’s also a right that goes forever, and on a 5’9 fish was one of the funnest waves I’ve ever ridden. The first time I went was with Kelsey from Santa Cruz. Her husband was surfing the point, and both of us looked at each other and said “hell no” since it was double over head and sketchy. So we ditched the boys for a couple hours and surfed Petequi’s with no one out except us. Surfing with her made me miss surfing with my girls back home. We were screaming for each other on every wave, even though they were only about shoulder high. The guys on the beach got a kick out of it and appreciated our energy. One guy Miguel, finally paddled out and commented on the girl’s heat taking over. 

The next day, I brought the boys back out to the point so Todd and Chris could surf. They’re both new to surfing so the inside was perfect for them. On our way back to drop Andrew off at Razors (no thank you sharp, shallow reef), Todd forgot his sandal so I drove us back to Petequi’s to get it. No big deal, except when the hard dirt turned into soft sand. We were stuck, and had about an hour left of good daylight. After 5 failed attempts, Todd looks at me and says “you got your running shoes?” I decided instead of running back to camp which was 3-4 miles on soft sand, I’d take my chances with the only two guys camping at Petequi’s who had a big 4x4 and were only two miles away. Luckily, I made friends with one of them, Jim, earlier in the water. I ran up and his friend Paul was just cracking a beer as he looked up and said “lemme guess, you’re stuck?” The three of us loaded into his truck, with a shovel, a rope that Jim found in the back of his bronco back in 1974, and three beers for the road.

Rewind for a minute. Earlier that morning, we found a guy who was also stuck pretty bad. We pushed him out and the last thing he said to us was “thanks guys, that’s good karma for your day.” Jim and Paul laughed hearing that and I assured them I wouldn’t wish them good karma on their trip because they would probably get stuck too. 

So we pulled up to a sweaty Todd who had another few failed attempts, but was happy to see his success in sending the girl in a bikini to run for help. I gave him my beer and within minutes, we were out of there. I left those guys some beer the next day with a note that said “cheers to good karma.” 

So Todd just got picked up and is on his way back home. There are now only three in the wolf pack, myself, Andrew, and Chris who will be with us until December(ish). Surf is small, cloud cover just rolled in, breeze picked up and we are out of beer. Looks like the whole town is mourning Todd’s departure.