Internet Antigua

Twelve hours of sleep, I feel better. I think this thin air does take getting used to, as my head remains congested and foggy.
Nine o´clock Goodbyes this morning to the crew headed to Panajachel. Dashanti and Asenka will spend their last full day touring Antigua before flying out tomorrow. We enjoy crepes stuffed with fruit and nutella at the Kaffee just a block away from the hotel. Our hostess/duena/camerera takes our order.
As this kind eyed, gray haired, weathered Mayan woman props her head up with her elbows on her our table, leaning in to us at eye level, every other word uttered from her lips is "mi corazon, mi amor, mi carino" and she throws in the winks and smiles for free. Antigua is friendly. I feel right at home. The average height of these Mayan descendents seems to be five feet.
Without burdening you with too much history... there are three categories of Antiguenos. The socio-polical agenda here dates back to Spanish colonialism with those at the top of the food chain being whites of Spanish descent. These folks hold the money and influence in the land (and previously over all of Central America, as Guatemala was the capital of the entire isthmus). They are followed by the ladinos, the middle class shoppe keepers of mixed blood (much of that blood was unwillfully bestowed during colonial times of land seizure and rape). Finally you have the bottom, second class citizens. Yep, you guessed it, the original inhabitants that were exploited and abused for centuries, the Mayan descendants. You would think that time heals all wounds, however, the inbalance is evident. For those of wishing to know the truths about colonialism in the 1500-1700s, you will likely find that the United States history is not too different. In fact, most countries in Central America have had a long history with the United States and our capitalist agenda. We have influenced and applied political pressure in most of these countries to ensure capital gains and revenue for our nation over the last century and a half.
Without causing a political debate, traveling in Central America is eye opening, as I learn how our government has twisted the fate of the vulnerable to maintain our high standard of living. I do not mean to suggest that we are alone in this, but wars have been fought and many lives lost with what many in the international populace would consider illegal US foreign affairs, manipulation and puppeteering. There have been many CIA cover ups and mini scandals as recent as the Reagan Adminstration, for example, that were down played in US media coverage.
I can´t help but feel a sense of personal disgust and responsibility.
I hope to encourage students to ask questions of their history teachers, to do individual research, and to seek the truths about the cultural ties we have with other nations. I love the privileges and luxuries that I have enjoyed all my life. We have an exceptional lifestyle in Maine. At the same time, the continued historical exposure I have while traveling that speaks to the peasant class sacrifices being made by those enslaved in dictatorial administrations of corrupt governments being funded by the US, does make me feel guilty and ignorant.
Slowly I lift the veil to see the beauty of a surviving people contrasted with the "what ifs" had history laid out a different, less selfserving path. History blends into future, and I smile in witnessing the exciting denouement of these developing countries.
Learn Spanish! Learn Mandarin, Chinese! Dynasties come and go, as will ours. Be a part of the connections in the world today by exposing truths and shaping a more honest and positive future for those who are working to balance inequities and violence.
Stepping off my soapbox, I will spend what is left of my afternoon in Antigua having lunch with the Torontan Newlyweds and visiting the market place, just a few blocks west from the hotel.

I have started an online e-application process for a competitive government education grant, through the Fulbright-Hays Foundation. My focus is is a five week summer program designed for teachers to discover and research the indigenous peoples of Mexico. Culchah! It keeps changing and redefining itself. Tonight I´ll ponder three narrative prompts that I must respond to in the application process: Please comment on your ability to learn from international and/or intercultural experience that you have had. Explain your need for this overseas experience and why you want to participate in the seminar you selected. Indicate why you require greater knowledge of the host country by traveling overseas. Include a discussion on what aspects of the society you are interested in learning about. Demonstrate a connection between the seminar and your current teaching responsibilities. (And, finally) Describe how you plan to incorporate the seminar experience into your professional work to enhance international, intercultral understanding (such as teaching, curriculum development and outreach activities).

Yes, I am busy in Antigua. Not just a vacation. It has been four hours of internet this morning!
Dushani and Asanka await me for lunch and to show me the souvenirs they found in the market.

To get to know this city
visit: www.aroundantigua.com

Copan, Honduras

My day in Copan starts early. Lorraine and I awake an hour before the others, awaiting Jose, our Caballero y guia de caballos, seven o´clock sharp was the plan. He is late and unapologetic. We are not impressed. He overslept. We would have loved to do the same. Sleepy eyed Jose leads us "por abajo"- down the cobble stone streets of Pueblo Copan Ruinas to the edge of the village where another caballero is finishing saddling up the three horses. It is close to 7:30.

We mount up and start down a basic dirt road... leading to we don´t know where. The sites are okay, but the rocky roads improper for gallop. Suddenly, Jose proceeds to whip our horses from behind, startling both them and us. He does this several times. He says, "You have to dominate and show the horse who is in charge." Well thanks for the tip, Jose, but if you are whacking the horses rump, the horse will think me to be an inexperienced rider and won´t be anymore apt to follow my prompts. I politely ask him to discontinue directing our horses for us. Lorraine is gritting her teeth in frustration. We ask Jose to adjust the stirrups and to tighten the sloshing saddles, as we both feel like we are going to fall off (especially with the quircky jerks of the horses that suddenly lurch when they see Jose and his whip). I end up changing horses with Jose, as I am convinced that the horse I am riding is not a good match. He jumps onto her and shows Lorraine and I how perfectly capable the horse is. He shows off by doing a "look ma, no hands, ... and no feet neither!" as he kicks and whips the horse so she will run over the rocks. Lorraine and I roll our eyes, sharing our disgust with the treatment of the poor horse, and his neglect for insuring his clients a pleasant experience. He hasn´t said anything about the area, culture, plants, or way of life.

(As an aside: Later we would weigh the culture differences with the way in which cultures view the value and role of animals. We realize our idea of a pet is different. These horses are a means of income, and have historically been used as a means of transportation and laboral service. In the US, horses have become a luxury, having been replaced by cars. We would also sympathize to some degree with the adjustments these qausi-companies must make to meet the expectations of increasing tourism, especially if they wish to stay in business.)

As we have a deadline to visit the famous Copan Ruinas, by the time we get to the base of the mountain (and our grumpiness mounting) when Jose asks if we´d like to go up the mountain, we take advantage of having an out and tell Jose we´d like to head back and get to the ruins. This shortens the trip on both ends (his being late and our early arrival to the ruins). We were further dismayed by horseback riding along the motorway to the ruins. We had specifically been assured that we would ride a trail to the ruins.

Lorraine and I agree that the poor service and tardy morning departure is a breach in our contract and does not merit full pay. We had already paid half of the $20 per person and thought it was generous to give $10 more, but not the full $20. Jose is perturbed and won´t take the ten. He babbles on about his boss and how he got us to the ruins in time. I said that I would be happy to explain our point of view to his boss, and that they could meet with us at the hotel between 11 and noon. The discussion never got heated, but I was firm about his responsibilities to his clients. We head off to the gate of the ruins.

www.copanhonduras.org

(Wonderful source to for a virtual visit to the Mayan ruins of Copan, Honduras.)

Time to shake off all that negativity, Lorraine and I agree. Laughing and teasing I say "Yeah, I´ll give you "tip" buddy. Show up on time!" Perhaps juvenile, but we really need the relief.

Ah, la piece de resistance, Copan and her stelae, hyroglyphs, carvings, ballcourts, pyramids and sacrificial altars. The majority of the stelae are dating from the 300s to the late 700s a.d. and depict sixteen ancient Mayan kings, like Smoking Jaguar. Shocking to us, all but a handful of the ruins are open to the weather and damaging climate of constant rain. Many are buildings or plazas. The $10 entrance fee should pay for some tin roof shelters, but very few statues enjoy this luxury. The rest are being defaced and losing the depth of their carvings as the years, decades and centuries go on. In and around the ballcourt we view decorative sculptures with macaw heads, serpents, turtoise, and skulls. For a fun research on ancient Mayan gaming, look up Mayan campo de pelota (ballcourt) and find out how this dangerous game was played.

Wandering along the paths of an ancient civilization can give one a tingle up the spine. Imagine how it must have been to live in this palace, along the Rio de Copan, and trading with other Mayan kingdoms dotted along the Central American coasts and interior. With the active volcano looming overhead, angrily spewing out lava and causing earthquakes, it is no wonder the people would try anything to appease this god, by throwing virgen sacrifices. Many treasures, such as pottery, jade, and bone remains of jaguars, have been unearthed and placed in the Museo de Copan Ruinas. As recently as 1989, a king´s tomb was discovered behind the amphitheatre of the Plaza Occidental. From the 800s to the 1200s these kingdoms are abandoned and have scientists and anthropologists still speculating the fall of these dynasties. Perhaps food shortages, as there is not enough evidence to suggest that warring drove them out of these highly civilized and intelligent cities.

The jungle constantly encroaches upon such ruins, and whose upkeep proves to be labour intensive. Crews of employees with machetes and weed killer holdback the forest from reclaiming Copan. Ruins continue to be discovered in the Americas. We will visit several more along the volcano trail and of course Mexico, D.F herself.

In the meantime, enjoy:

http://www.copanhonduras.org/ruins.htm

This afternoon we will cross the border into Guatemala, just 12 km away. Ben has hired a private, luxury van for this purpose. Suffering from a tension headache I receive a massage from Dale (licensed sports massage therapist in Australia!) and return the favor later in the day (I´ve had some training, too!). We cross the massive diesel and industrially polluted Ciudad de Guatemala during rush hour, oops. A final evening descent into the pleasant valley of Antigua, we are surrounded by three volcanoes and several mountain ranges. Still, we are some 4,500 feet above sea level. The air thin, the nights cooler.

I will stay in Antigua this weekend to catch up on work projects, while my travel companions go on to Panajachel. Exhausted and rather travel nauseous upon arrival, I go right bed at 7:30pm, skipping dinner.

Nicaragua on Horseback

Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua

Lago de Nicaragua is the largest lake in Central America and the 10th largest freshwater lake in the world (177km long, 58 km wide and 60m deep) with fortyfive rivers flowing into her. The world´s only fresh water sharks live in Lago de Nicaragua. The lake is thought to have once been a golf, part of the Pacific Ocean, but got sealed off by the lava flow of erupting volcanoes. Over hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, the sea water eventually lost its salinity and the fish evolved to fresh water conditions. There are three major islands in the lake, one being Ometepe which was formed by two large volcanoes (1310 and 1640 meters high), one with an almost perfect cone. Arriving by boat the volcanic view is exceptional, and I could see the smoke from one that is still active! People are dotted around the island in small settlements. There is really no city, just a couple of small towns with schools. An incomplete figure eight road loops around the two volcanoes, a foot path finishes the eight on the far side of the active Volcan Madera.
Our hotel is called Finca de Santo Domingo, a rather isolated bungalo villa whose songs of the birds are matched by the lapping of the waves just feet from the terrace and our rooms.

Several of us spent our free day horseback riding. Rosilla was a lazy horse... until we reached the seaside (okay, it is actually now a lake, but so great you can´t see the mainland). Rosilla loves to gallop on the beach. Our guides took us up a rocky path, a bit treacherous for our shoeless horses, which walked gingerly and occasionally slipping on the muddy rocks. We viewed ancient stones and Mayan petroglyphs (rock carvings) atop a mountain, now part of someone´s fruit plantation. They depict people, animals, birds, and geometric shapes, especially spirals. Today in this region you will find pottery with these markings in the decorations.
We sipped cokes, fresh squeezed lemonade and nectar from freshly picked and split open coconuts, all the while swinging in hammocks of the mirador (viewing spot) atop the plantation, petting the dog and chatting with the natives. The family supplements their finances by charging a small fee to view the petroglyphs and offering refreshments to parched tourists such as us.
Lorraine and I didn´t want to stop riding, so we dropped off the others and headed to El Ojo de Agua, which upon arrival I discovered was the equivalent to a watering hole or spring. We soaked a spring fed pond tucked up in the woods beyond the banana plantation. Our horses were so gentle and obedient. Considering the heat, we had pushed them enough. Returning to our cozy lakeside retreat, we all gathered for a meal and a dip in the same waters that would lull us to sleep tonight. The wooden swinging porthole door that covers the screened window would need to be closed in the middle of the night during the thunder storm and winds.
Thankfully it continues to rain primarily on travel days while we are on the bus, or during the night when we are sleeping. The further north we go, the further away from rainy season.

Sky Trek - The Zip Line Adventure

What do you do when you wake up on a Sunday morning?
In Monteverde, you join your friends for a bosque nuboso cable adventure -- taking just 50 seconds to traverse an entire valley and canopy between one mountain top to the next.
7am breakfast, 8am van pick-up to the Arenal Rain Forest Reserve.
First we warm up with "SKY WALK" -- a unique opportunity to explore the forest canopy in a safe and easy manner. SKY WALK is a combination of 4,700 feet of trails and suspension bridges built in the cloud forest. It's a paradise for birdwatching and orchid lovers!
The SKY TREK lasts approximately two and a half hours. We fly through the forest and over the treetops on SKY TREK zip lines that are from 131 feet to 2,525 feet long! We climb observation towers suited up in harness, helmet and gloves. We clip on the caribeeners to the two inch cables, grip the metal handles of the free pulley, cross and tuck up our legs, and call out like Tarzan in a ripping rush of adrenaline. Several smiling guides tend to safety, attachement, take offs and landings.
Me? I took to it immediately, having been up in a hot air balloon with my grandmother and parasailing above my home town of Naples, Maine. There is, however, a certain vulnerability when you look directly below and have to sign of attachments in your peripheral. The thrill and exhiliration is heightened, as each zip line becomes longer and faster, reaching speeds of up to 60kph/40mph.
The rain has held off, the clouds encroaching during the last two zips. Number ten is the longest (2,525 feet) and the wind is blowing me around, causing too much friction between pully and cable. I don't make it all the way. Guide Aron quickly clips on, slides out to me, locks his legs around mine and effortlessly shimmies me back to the platform. What service atop the canopy! I thought I'd have to "do it myself", as the other two had done on earlier lines. We safety touch down and wander through the hummingbird garden on the path back to the lodge. Feisty creatures weighing as little as three grams, they allow me to place my head next to the feeder for a snap shot.
Cafe Monteverde gratis awaits us. I appreciate the warmth. The taxi has already arrived so we reclaim our bags and tip our guides. We recognize many of these twenty-somethings from last nights discoteca, at La Taberna.

Phew! Who knew it could be like this? Not just some cheezy tourist trap. Oh, no! A livin'-in-the-moment-flight that strengthens the bond of the group. From moments of panic while climbing the high towers to screeches of fear that turn into laughter, we walk away wiped -- coming down from the emotional highs that finally settle as decompress in the van ride back to Don Taco.
On the hotel terrace we huddle for a travel briefing for our next stop, Ometepe. Ben reminds us to get all the spending money we will need. This remote island in Nicaragua will not allow access to any first world advantages, such as stores or ATMs.
I stock up on chocolate and olives for the next three days. I find my hand-carved leatherback turtle souvenir, visit the internet cafe, and now am off to the Serpentario to view an amphibian and reptile zoo. The more than forty species of snakes, turtle and frogs are behind glass and are said to be more active at night. I'm about to find out! (visit www.snaketour.com)

For more information about the Arenal Region and her forests, visit www.arenalreserve.com
Wishing to find out more about tours? Desafio Expeditions specializes in tours for this area. You may find out more by visiting www.monteverdetours.com Janet will be happy to respond to any inquiries, especially if you like horseback riding and rafting.

El Bosque Nuboso de Monteverde (Cloud Forest)

Monteverde Cloud Forest is located in the center of the country on the continental divide.
A boat ride across the placid Lago Arenal, then a rocky, meandering mountain passage delivered half the group to the Bosque Nuboso de Monteverde, Costa Rica. El Hotel Don Taco is set into the hill overlooking the village. A dusty main street of which only a couple blocks are cobble stone takes us past cafes, pizzerias, tabernas y super(mini)mercados.
Others have selected the full mountain passage route that will deliver them in the late afternoon. For $10US extra, Lorraine of England, Xavier & Sandra of Switzerland, Dashani & Asenka Newleyweds of Toronto, and Gary of California take a direct route across the large fresh water basin that is fed from the springs descending from the volcanic, cloud-covered mountains we see in every direction.
Minutes after checking-in, I lead three of my travel companions to the center of town into a local tour company called Camino Verde. Here we cash traveler's checks and purchase a tour that will take us immediately into the La Reserva de Santa Elena - Bosque Nuboso de Monteverde. The entrance into the reserve is a $9 conservation fee used to maintain the trails and for their sponsor school, a local high school in which the students actively take part in the preservation of this home to an amazing variety of birds and monkeys. The entrance to the reserve is lined with hummingbird feeders. Los colibries are zipping around our heads, stopping within inches of our noses. They say "hola" with a moment of curious before returning to their business of sipping the sugar nectar so needed to sustain their remarkable metabolism. Quite undisturbed by our presence, we are able to capture photos... but you must be quick, as they are gone in a blink. They seem territorial, as they bicker with their chums in little aerial spats. They take care not get stung by the bumbles and wasps that share the feeders.
We were happy to sign in, so the park rangers could take an inventory of hikers. Our receptionist provides a photocopied simple map that denotes river crossings and turns. We hike three our of the four senderos, each becoming progressively more challenging than the last. Lorraine and I are accustomed to such strenuous activity, however, our Torontan Newleyweds are easily winded by the vertical demands of this damp forest. The special significance of this place lies in the rareness of having such an expanse tract of land that is a primary forest, that is a forest that has never been cut. We pass thru a secondary forest which seems healthy and lush, yet are shocked by the difference in vegetation density of a true cloud forest, as we cross into the primary forest of 200 year old trees that are coated from trunk to tip with moss, ferns, vines, orchids, and a variety of other hitchhikers.
So gargantuan are the ferns and palms, that I can easily hide behind one leaf. Species of such plants range in the thousands. Several ferns so desperate for light they have grown some eighty feet in height and easily span twenty feet across. I feel small(-er?). We enjoy a visit off the path to a miniature waterfall. It refreshes us, giving good courage at the halfway point of this four hour adventure. Birds, such as the clay-colored robin, Costa Rica's national bird, flit and chirp but are difficult to spot in this overgrown and obscurely lit dream, now becoming overtaken by drifting fogs. The clouds have now settled in around us and chill my ears, but my heartrate raises the body temperature enough to continue for the most part without my jacket, that is, until the rains come. Thunder enchos across the valleys. Occasional dull flashes are filtered through the clouds, and a light dusting of droplets moisten our hair and tickle our noses. The smells have changed, as the earth scents are triggered by the excessive moisture and the increased airflow lifts them to our nostrils. A couple five inch yellow striped black catipillars appear at our feet. They freeze upon seeing us, on the cross sections of hardwood trees that have been sliced and placed as stepping stones for the paths.
One more abrupt turn and we enjoy our final kilometer return to base in a silent satisfaction. One ranger awaits us outside the giftshop at the base. He calls the taxi for us.
Our evening meal is at Restaurante Morphos, with all the GAP Adventurers. We sit at chunky, varnished log tables and chairs handmade from indeginous cloud forest trees. Everywhere we go there are bags of coffee from numerous plantations. Monteverde Coffee donates a percentage of their revenue to the preservation of the cloud forest, once again providing examples of Costa Rica's commitment to ecology.
The night is young, and so are "some of us". It's off to the pub slash disco to mix and mingle, okay to salsa with the Ticos (native Costaricans). We arrive in advance of the action. A few folks glued to the soccer match with light music in the back. By the time we've finished a ron con pina bebida the music has gone up several decibles, y la gente llega para bailar!
Baile, baile toda la noche. Lorraine wants to learn some salsa steps. The rhythm and electricity that flows across the floor peaks by midnight. Hip-hop Latin mixes, the DeeJay knows how to please the crowd. In true latin fashion, movement is all in the hips and ripples down to the feet. Here, the spins, dips, and occasional grinding moves made famous in our part of the world by La Lambada dance troups and the movie Dirty Dancing are common place. Latins are not shy and can be highly sensual as they freely display their sexuality with deep stares, holding gazes that usually unfold with grins and hair tosses, as it is all meant for good fun and teasing.
Six foot seven Karl from Sweden scoops me up under his arm to match his height. A couple camera flashes go off. The crowd is applauding. Probably a third of the couple hundred people crammed in to this sauna are tourists, mostly from Europe and the U.S. Having made a good evening of it and realizing our next day commitments, we politefully bowed out. This is a tremendous workout of frivolity and fraternity. Sleep comes easy considering the miles of water and road we have traveled, steps we have hiked and moves have danced. All this, hidden behind a volcano under the clouds.