Nicaragua and done

I'm not sure anyone is reading this blog anymore, but I still like writing it, and besides, I feel the need for some closure after more than 6 months away. We're heading home in two days.

First, an update on the events of the last 2+ weeks. Elise, Deb and I ventured off to Nicaragua via a 2 day megabus ride from Guatemala City to Managua with a short overnight stay in El Salvador and a pass through Honduras.

Nicaragua is a wonderful country, quite a bit poorer than Guatemala, with less of a tourism infrastructure. All told, traveling in Nicaragua is more taxing than either Guatemala or Mexico, and by the end of our two weeks there, we were a bit frazzeled. The people of Nicaragua are quite nice, most of them have forgiven us for the Reagan years, when our tax dollars were paying to arm and train assassins to kill all things communist, socialist, or generally non-capitalist (those older readers will remember the Iran-Contra Scandal). On the other hand, I was suprised to find out that Daniel Ortega is not that popular in Nicaragua, and not just with business owners, but with taxi drivers and many others. Daniel Ortega, for those that don't know, headed up the Sandanista Revolution that finally toppled the Somoza regime in 1979. He has been in and out of power since then, he has 1 year left in the current election cycle. In fact, I never talked to a Nicaragüense that liked ol' Danny boy. They state that he has turned into something of a dictator himself, only without the jobs of the Somoza times. For example, he has managed to change the constitution in Nicaragua to enable him to hold office indefinately (sound familiar, think Honduras).

Once our bus arrived in Managua, we got out as soon as possible (Managua, like most of the major cities in Central America is dirty and dangerous). We took a colectivo to Granada, a pretty town that sits right on the banks of Lago Nicaragua. Granada reminded me a bit of Antigua in that it had a beautiful parque central and friendly people. We stomped around the city for a couple of days, enjoying the sights and food. While there, we took a day trip to Masaya, a town nearby with a large market.

From Granada, we took a 4 hour ferry to an eden-like island in the middle of Lago Nicaragua (the largest fresh water island in the world), Ometepe. Ometepe is formed from two adjacent volcanos merged together, looks a bit like a cell in late anaphase. We spent 4 days on the island in a town called Merida, truly, el medio de la nada. We hiked up Madera, the smaller of the two volcanos. Although smaller, it was still over a 4000 foot ascent up steep muddy trials. It took us 9 hours and silenced any suggestions of climbing the other volcano the next day. Unfortunately, it was so overcast that we didn't get to see the laguna in the crater, in fact, because we were in the clouds most of the day, we didn't get to see much in the way of views. To add insult to injury, we got drenched in a torrent the last hour or so of the hike. All told, it was a meat grinding experience. We did get to see some wildlife, though, including a coral snake, howler and capuchin monkeys (a mama capuchin was carrying her baby on her back as she made her way through the trees), and crabs. Now, crabs might not sound like that big of a deal unless you consider we were probably 4 miles up the volcano, and at least 30 miles from the nearest saltwater. Here is a picture of the sun setting from our hotel. If you look to the right, that mountain capped by the clouds is Concepcion, the larger of the two volcanos.

Due to general fatigue and inertia, we spent the next day hanging out and reading. Somewhat refreshed, the next day we took a kayaking tour up a jungle river were we saw caymans (small alligators), turtles, and tons of birds. I have a picture here of a cayman we saw and another of Elise with our guide with Madera in the background.

We were sad to leave Ometepe, but leave we did, and made our way to Laguna Apoyo, a large crater lake in the middle of the jungle (you may have noticed that everything here is in the middle of the jungle). Apoyo was a delight, the water was clean and perfect for swimming, which we did. Alot.

Then on to Leon, a town about an hour north of Managua. We were in Leon during the 31st anniversary of the Sandanista Revolution/overthrow of the dreaded Samosa regime. The Somoza family ruled Nicaragua with an iron fist from 1936 to 1979, first by the father, then by two of his sons. We were running low on steam by this time, but managed to take a two hour walk through some of the parts of the city less seen by tourists that took us to El Fortin, a prison where Somoza incarcerated, tortured, and, of course, murdered countless political enemies (the Somozas had lots of those). I have a picture of Deb next to a prison cell that was no bigger than 6 feet long, 4 feet wide, and too low to stand up in. Note Deb's disapproving look. If there is anything Deb hates worse than a bad bagel, its torture and murder. From Leon, we also took a day trip to Poneloya, a beach just to the west of Leon on the Pacific Ocean. The surf there is too dangerous to swim, but we puttered down the beach for a couple of hours, then returned to Leon. My last picture if of Deb and Elise on the beach at Poneloya. From Leon, we jumped on another megabus to San Salvador, spent the night, and back to Guatemala.

I have compiled a rough list of things I've done in the last 6 months. I don't know why, but I have, and here it is. I have chosen to do so in the style of the Harper's Index:

Number of months working in a Spanish-speaking clinic treating patients ranging in age from 2 to 82 with an amazing variety of orthopaedic and neuorological disorders: 3+

Number of weeks of Spanish classes: 5 (but, I'm still not all that good at Spanish).

Number of different countries: 6

Number of countries never visited before: 4 (Belize, Honduras, El Salvador, and Nicaragua)

Number of international borders crossed: 12

Types and numbers of forms of transportation: Planes: 8; buses: countless, including full on touring buses (one for 19 hours), shuttles, collectivos, minibuses, chicken buses, open bed pickup trucks with over 20 people in the back; river taxis: 3, open ocean boats: 3; ferries across salt and fresh water: 6, tuk-tuks: 1; taxis: countless; horse drawn train cars: 1; Camels: 0.

Number of hotels, hostels, etc stayed in: >30

Number with truly hot water: 1

Number of times I flushed toilet paper down the toilet in those hotels: 1 (by mistake, forgot)

Bicycle tours: 1

Backpacking trips: 1

Hiking excursions: too many to count,

Miles of walking: hundreds and hundreds.
Volcanos climbed: 2

Nights spent on an active volcano: 1

Feet away from a lava flow: <10

Kayak trips in jungle: 2

Underground river explorations: 1

Whale sharks seen: >50

Whale sharks swam with: 3

Earthquakes felt: 1

Tropical storms: 2

Eruptions of volcanos: 1

Types and numbers of wildlife seen: Birds: >90 species including over 50 new species; whip tailed scorpions: 3; monkeys: >20, 3 different species; coatis: ~10; other small furry mammels: bunches; poisonous snakes: 2 different species; wild pigs: 4; tamazotes (tiny deer): 1; cayman (small alligators): 3, crocodiles: dozens; turtles: bunches; Camels : 0.

Number of world cup games seen in country of team playing: 2 (Honduras in Honduras and Mexico in Mexico).

Number of Mayan ruins seen: 12

Number of Mayan ruins seen past saturation point: at least 4

Types of local cuisine tried: countless, including penuchos, gringas, pollo de jalapeno, chilaquis, pollo de molle, picadillo (Nica shredded beef stew), chaote, ceviche, pan de chazon (shark), pitaya, liche, etc, etc, etc

Bad beers: way too many

Good beers: 1 (Guiness in the can with those cool nitrogen pressure thingies)

Other drinks tried: tons, including bunches of papaya, sandia, mango, melon, and pino licuados, various Carribean Rums, michalada (beer mixed with salsa, lime and salt), El Macua (national drink of Nicaragua), refresca de cacoa con leche, horchada de arroz, others.

Number of interesting people met: lots, but never enough; both of the countries visited and of dozens of other countries. I met an Irish author for Frommer's travel guide (a dream job for me), surfers from Australia, amatuer anthropoligists from Zimbabwe, entrepreneurs and/or small business owners from Mexico, Belize, Honduras, Guatemala, Belize, Nicaragua, Canada and the U.S., physical therapists from New Zealand and Mexico, Marketing executives from the Netherlands, tons of medical students from England (I would say half the English folks I met were medical students, go figure), professional dancers and actresses from Canada, and lots of folks trying to avoid being much of anything professionally.

Although still a bit disappointed about the camel thing, all told, this past 6 months must have been a success because I'm actually looking forward to returning to work (to quote Elvis Costello, I don't suppose that will last). I think the first thing I'm going do when I get home is flush toilet paper down the toilet, then drink a good beer (or two), get a good night sleep in my own bed, wake up and go to work on my bike. I am going to be teaching Medical Spanish to the PT students and will be treating Spanish speaking patients in the clinic, so hopefully I won't forget too much Spanish between now and when I take my next sabbatical in 6 years!

Thanks for putting up with my blog, and I hope to see you all soon after returning.

Reunion!

So much has happened since my last post entry. I finished Spanish school, Elise and Deborah joined Kyra and me in Guatemala, we made our way over to Honduras, where we visited Copan, the furthest south the Mayan empire was known to extend. I have enclosed a picture of a us standing in front of a sacrificial stone, evidently the Mayans would position folks face up over the stone and slice and dice them. I thought it would make a great X-mas card with the heading "wishing you were here", but Deb thought better of it. We all got a strange vibe (mal onda) from Honduras, I'm not sure if it was just because the people in Guatemala are so friendly that anyone else would seem stand-offish by comparison, but we were happy to move on. We took a long bus from Copan to Rio Dulce, Guatemala, then a water taxi from Rio Dulce to Livingston, that was magical. You start out in a freshwater lake where they take you by this old Spanish fort, then by a few islands full of waterfowl (we saw a Northern Jacana, an odd looking creature who has feet made to walk on top of water lillies). The lake then gives way to a river that passes through a deep, narrow canyon of the plushest jungle imaginable. Then you end up popping out into Livingston, a sleepy little ocean-side pueblo on the Carribean Sea. Although still in Guatemala, it had a totally different, typically Carribean feel to it. We only stayed there for a day, just long enough to have possibly the best shrimp I have ever eaten, then took a water taxi to Belize. We ended up in Placencia, a nicely beached little town that is the very definition of peaceful. We stayed there for several days enjoying the water and seafood. We booked a snorkling tour that took us out to a small island which has been designated as a National Park. The coral and fish were as good as I have ever seen. We then took a series of long, painful buses all the way to Playa del Carmen. I already described Playa to you, but it was nice to see it again through my families eyes. We spend 5 days there, culminating in a tour where we swam with whale sharks. The tour involved a long boat ride (almost 3 hours out) into the open ocean. It was rough seas, and nearly all of the 11 people on the boat got sick, including all of us (I even ralfed, the first time in some 27 years! There goes my record.) On the way back in, we got caught up in a swell, the waves got rather big for our 20 foot lancha, and it was raining like a good shower head. All the while, the captain had rediculously loud music pumping into the boat, a little like Apocalype Now. During the worst of the storm, the theme song for the Titanic came on, which made us all laugh despite ourselves. I have here a picture of a whale shark from the internet just so you can appreciate what it might be like to swim right next to the largest fish in the world. I swam right next to one that had to be at least 30 feet long, I was so close that I had to watch to make sure he didn't hit me with his tail (they are plankton eaters, but they swim with there mouth open and could easily swallow a small adult whole).

It was in Playa that Kyra decided she needed to return to New Mexico to try to find work before heading off to Morocco and Jordan for 4 months in the Fall. Elise, Deb and I then took another marathon bus ride (19 hours) to San Cristobal, Mexico. San Cristobal is a bohemian town in southern Chiapas not far from the Guatemalan border. We enjoyed our stay there, although a tropical storm (yes, yet another one) left us in rain for 3 days straight. Not the hopeful, usually disappointing desert rains we desert rats are used to, but a unrelenting, driving rain. In the midst of said rain one night, on our way home from dinner, we heard some jazz playing, stepped into this bar, and were rewarded with an amazing 8 piece Cuban jazz band. We listened and danced until the wee hours. These are the rewards, often unexpected, that make traveling so worth it.

Then, another series of long buses back to Antigua. After reuniting with old friends in our hostel, (OX), in Antigua, we went to Semuc Champey. Semuc about 8 hours north of Antigua by windy, awful roads through jungle mountains broken up by a tapestry of farms. The last 11 kilometers is a dirt road which delivers you to, quite honestly, a jungle paradise with a series of rivers, waterfalls, and caves. We went caving the first night we were there and saw tons of bats, tailless whip scorpions, and, of course, stalagmites and stalagtites. I have a picture of some bats exiting the cave. The next morning we took a tour through an underground river system inside a seemingly endless cave. Rumor has it that the river goes back over 11 kilometers into the mountiain, but the truth is the end has yet to be found. Our tour took us about a third of a mile into the cave, where we waded through the river, at times having to tread water because the water was so deep, all while holding a candle in our hands (our only light source). There were places along the river were we could jump from ledges into the river, natural water slides, and even a chute about as big around as a patio table, where you hold your breath, jump down through the chute about a meter or so until it spits you out into a chamber below. That part was actually pretty scary. We then went tubing down a river outside of the mountain for a bit, and finished up in a different part of the river where an amazing natural limestone bridge about 1/3 mile long was formed over the river. The "bridge" has springs that feed into it, forming a series of small waterfalls and turquoise ponds. All of this sits atop of the river running underneath. We swam in the ponds for a couple of hours, then returned to our cabin. I have here a series of pictures of Semuc. The first one is us up at Miradora, or "the lookout", the next, a closer one of the pools we swam in. This day ended up to be one of the most memorable of a very memorable trip.

Without Kyra, the translating has been left mostly to me, although both Elise and Deb are pretty good. I told Elise that it would only take her another year of classes to pass me up, getting passed up in language is nothing new to me. We returned to Antigua from Semuc after 3 days, and right now we are at the Earth Lodge, a hippy ecolodge just up the valley from Antigua. It sits at the base of a rather extensive cloud forest, where the birding is especially good. I saw a blue-throated motmot, an exotic bird found only in a small region of Central America. My last picture is looking down into the valley from the Earthlodge, if you look closely, you can see that the volcano to the left has just erupted, that is a plume of smoke, not a cloud. We are going to stay here for a couple of days, then we will take a 2 day bus ride to Managua, Nicaragua, where we will slowly make our way back to Guatemala over a 2 week time. Then, finlly, it will be time to return home. I will try to add one more post before I return.

Earthquakes and Eruptions and Cyclones, oh my

Starting out with a nice picture of the valley just outside of Antigua, I took this picture while on top of Pacaya. It has been a busy few weeks here in Antigua, Guatmala. Kyra joined me a week ago, we have been going to Spanish classes together (together in the sense of in the same school, since all lessons are one on one and her level is still quite a bit higher than mine). It is wonderful having Kyra here, she is always fun to be with, except that all of the male 20 somethings are vying for her attention, and I have to keep reminding them that she is my daughter and how embarrasing it would be for them to have a 52 year old man kick the @$*%! out of them. My Spanish is moving at a snails pace, some days seems better, some days even worse. My teacher keeps trying to convince me that the process is altibajo (up and down), but I still think I'm liguistically retrasado (delayed, retarded). I am out of the house and living in the student housing with Kyra, these two Mayan women cook our meals, if they stood on each others shoulders, they would barely be as tall as I am, but they make the best pancakes in the world.

Kyra and I were watching a movie at the school in the afternoon on the El Salvador civil war when we experienced a 3.4 temblor (tremor, or mini-earthquake). Immediately after the tremor, there was a sudden loud part in the movie, and we both shot three feet out of our seats. The locals tell us that they get as many as 10 tremors a year like that one, but it was the first time I've ever experienced one.

But wait, there's more.

Evidently, the tremor triggered an eruption of Pacaya, the very volcano I climbed two weeks ago (see previous post), sending rocks and ash flying all over the place, killing a reporter, and as many as 3 other people who are still missing. The black ash blanketed Guatemala City and has closed down the airport for the last 4 days. I have here a video link that was taken just a minute or two after I moved out from under the flow that I was standing under in the previous post. Just click on it, it is only a minute long, and it gives you a sense of how active the volcano is right now: http://www.flipshare.com/ViewReshare.aspx?i=8f4c1d4b-5221-44a4-92e4-1e2e07672307&s=14107403&emt=b871045f-96e6-468c-bca5-724a29301965&locale=en-US&senderLocale=en-US

But wait, there is still more. If you order now, we will throw in a free cyclone with the earthquake and eruption!

Thats right, we have a cyclone (hurricane, only on the Pacific side rather than the Atlantic) that is pounding us as I write this, with as much as 50 cm (20 inches) of rain expected in the next 2-3 days. That is more than 2 years worth of rain in Albuquerque! We were going to go to Lago Atitlan this weekend, but the threat of mudslides is too great to be traveling right now. Our little house is springing leaks left and right, the streets are ankle deep rivers, it has gotten so bad I went so far as to buy an umbrella! Right now it is raining so hard that it is nearly impossible to carry on a conversation indoors. The good news is that all of this has been great for my Spanish, how else would I have learned the word for earthquake (terremotto), flood (inundacion), landslide (derrumbe). Anyway, before all this started, Kyra and I went for a walk and found this family doing a street performance.

The immediate future is going to see Kyra and I taking classes and awaiting the arrivel of Deborah and Elise in less than 2 weeks! That is if the world is still here as we know it.

Back to School

I felt that my Spanish was stagnant and that I needed to do something to take it to the next level, por eso, I flew to Antigua, Guatemala last week where I am attending (intensive) Spanish classes M-F from 8 to 3 and staying with a local Guatmalan family.
First, the family. I am staying in the front of their house with the grandparents, Alicia and Raphael. They are in their 80’s, but their health still appears to be good (a rarity here). I share a bathroom with them and at least 2 other family members (quite frankly, I'm not sure how many people live in the house or that I share a bathroom with). The house is typical of houses in Latin America in that at least three generations of the family are living in a sprawling house that was built a room at a time as needed. My bedroom is just that, a bed in a room. There is a single bare foco (bulb) dangling from the ceiling which offers just enough light to read at night. I feed the mosquitoes throughout the night since the room lacks a mosquitero (mosquito net) and is too hot to keep the windows closed. One of the daughters, Maria, cooks me my meals. So far, they have been simple, but good. There is a pet loro (parrot) named Pancho (of course), who starts talking to himself about six in the morning. He asks himself questions and answers them himself. I think I might be joining him soon. The good news is that he speaks Spanish, and since he says the same thing over and over again, I'm able to understand him. Spanish here is somewhat different, the accent, the rhythm, the vocabulary, but I’m already getting used to it. They are having more problems with my accent then the folks did in Mexico, I figure my accent is a cross between gringo and Mexican. I’m sure it will morph soon into a mezcla of all three, gringo, Mexican, and Guatemalan, and then no one will be able to understand me. Should be fun. Actually, folks here are much more accustomed to gringos and Europeos who don't speak Spanish well, so they know how to slow things down a bit without talking to you like you were 5 years old. This was not the case in Campeche, folks there weren't used to non-Spanish speakers, and since none of them spoke a second language, they weren't sure how to deal with me. They tended to either talk way to fast, or dumb it down too much.
The school, Sevilla de Antigua, is simple, but thankfully they have wireless internet, so I can communicate with my family. My cell phone, of course, doesn’t work here. The school is only a few blocks away from my house, so it is an easy Trek.
Antigua is still a pueblo. Deb and came here some 23 years ago, the summer before we got married. It has easy access to several big volcanoes to climb. I remember when Deb and I climbed Acatenango (13,045 feet), we got to the top of the mountain, it was freezing cold and raining hard. We crowded into a cinderblock shack (about the size of an average bathroom) with at least 20 other people to spend the night. The sardine analogy was perfect because, since the floor had 2 inches of standing water in it and the roof leaked, we were packed in water. All the while we were being asphyxiated by the gases coming from the crater not 200 yards away. Good times. Thinking back on that night makes me feel a little better about my accommodations here.
Antigua is still beautiful, suprisingly, it hasn't changed that much in 23 years. It is Spanish colonial with a smatering of ruins left standing after a devastating earthquake in 1773. The center plaza is filled with people all day and into the night, it is the center of the social scene, not unlike Campeche, and, doubtless, the vast majority of Hispanic towns. The place is crawling with anglos, mostly Europeos, who are either here to go to one of the dozens of Spanish schools, or simply traveling the area. The locals seem to take it all in stride, so far I haven't noticed the resentment in their eyes one often sees in touristy areas. In general, Guatemaltecos are friendly and laid back. The town itself is pretty safe, in sharp contrast to its bigger, dangerous neighbor 30 miles to the north, Guatemala City.
I have enclosed a picture of the Inglesia San Francisco de Asis with Volcán de Agua in the background (12, 356 feet).
Maria's brother, Freddy also lives with us, he is quite the artist, he took me on a tour of his works, which are hanging in the local churches and museums. He is sordo (deaf), (so is Maria), and he told me that he is able to paint well because his mind isn't constantly cluttered with noise. He can simply immerse himself in his work. I have enclosed a picture of him at the Inglesia San Francisco de Asis with one of his nicer pieces behind him. He has pieces all over the world, he paints religious themes, which he says are easier to sell, but he also does modern art.

When he first told me he was an artist and that he wanted to show me his work, I was afraid I would be put in that awkward position we have all been in where we have to pretend we like something we don't, but, fortunately, his work was excellent. In fact, a good bit of the artesania here is nice, I have a picture of a small artesania mercado with a ruin on the right, and of course, Volcán de Aqua in the background.
Yesterday was Friday, I finished my first week of classes and decided I needed to get out and do something other than study, so I went with a local excursion troupe on an overnight backpacking trip to Pacaya, an incredibly active volcano. It just recently started acting up, with dozens of new flows developing just in the last couple of days. The tour included a hike up in the afternoon where we sat on a ridge line watching the spews of lava erupt from the crater while sipping wine. They then fed us dinner, after which we went right to bed because the next morning they woke us up at 3:30 for a hike to the lava fields. Watching the lava flow down the side of the mountain in the dark was one of the coolest thing I've done in a long time. The picture below was taken as the sun was rising over Pacaya. It is a bit dark, but if you look closely you can see the flows on the lower right.I got within 10 feet of a flow that opened up right before our eyes. When we hiked down to the lava field, the flow you see to my right was just a glow under the rocks. While we watched, the pressure from the lava underneath pushed a large rock out of the way (which was obviously acting as a plug) and lava started flowing out, creeping slowly down the hill. It was so hot where I was standing that I had to move after about a minute. Besides, if I hadn't moved, there is a good chance I wouldn't be here to write this. Two people were killed and another injured on this very lava field not 3 weeks ago. Evidently, a lava flow triggered a land slide that buried them. Anyway, I have to go study for my Spanish class next week, my teacher is quite the task master (all classes are one on one). Class usually consist of 2-3 hours of grammer followed by 2-3 hours of conversation. You would think that I would be near fluent by now, but alas..... however, I guess I can call myself conversant, and if I keep this up for the rest of my time here (9 weeks), I might even make the distinction of bilingual. Anyway, ouch, my brain hurts after class each day. My daughter Kyra will be joining me for classes at the end of next week, and three weeks later, the rest of my family will join us. I will keep you up on the details and let you all know about future adventures as soon as they happen, Hasta luego!

Tulum and Tummy Troubles

I hadn’t left Campeche on my own since I’ve been here, (3 ½ months) so I decided it was time to go for an adventure by myself. There was another Puente (of course) for Cinco de Mayo, so I jumped on a 9 hour night bus to Tulum. Tulum is a modest ruin by Yucatan standards, but it sits on the cliffs overlooking those magical beaches on the Caribe side, which makes it a must see. I met a Morman guy on the bus to the ruins, and we decided to walk the ruins together. He had just finished his 2 year missionary work in Guatemala and was knocking around Mexico on his way back home. When we were up on a cliff overlooking the ruins, we saw this great little inlet of beach and decided to climb down the rock face for a swim. While we were body surfing in the choppy waters, this official-looking guy started screaming at us to get out of the water. At first I thought he might be telling us there were sharks in the water, but, after seeing no evidence of a dorsal fin, I realized that the beach we were on was cordoned off from the ruins and was off limits. It was probably the first bad thing that young Morman man has ever done in his life. (Mom always said I was a bad influence). I took this picture right before the felony was committed. Please note that someone was already at the scene of the crime, and note also the iguana enjoying it all in the foreground.I stayed at a youth hostel when I was in Tulum (emphasis on youth), it was cheap, but offered me yet another opportunity to feel even older than I am. Actually, the folks there were incredible, they seemed interested in learning a bit about a 50 something year old who was still willing to travel on the shoestring. I was equally interested in their stories, one woman from California was 3 years into a trek around the world. She started out in Equador teaching English, made her way through South America, then over to Southeast Asian, including Thailand, the Phillipes, Singapore, then over to Canada, down to Central America, finally ending up in Mexico. She told me she had no plans of returning to the U.S. any time soon. Another young man from Canada told me he had been robbed four times during his travels, three times in the U.S alone. I told him we make sport out of robbing Canadians. He seemed to believe me, which explained why he had been robbed 4 times. I shared a taxi with several of them to (yet another) cenote a few miles outside of the pueblo. This one, the gran cenote, was indeed grand. By far the biggest of the five I have been to, one can scuba dive way back into the depths of it, still, I chose the more timid approach and snorkeled around. There is something about diving deep into a dark tunnel that just doesn't resonate with me. Here is a picture of it. While we were there, someone told us there were two other smaller cenotes further back in the jungle. We made our way down a sendero (trail) where we came upon two holes in the ground, the larger of the two no bigger than a patio table, with a ladder descending down about 20 feet to the water level. The water didn't look all that inviting, full of leaves and God only knows what else, but when I stuck my head in the second, smaller cenote, a pair of Turquoise browed Motmots flew out of the hole, sat on a branch nearby and allowed us to marvel in their splendor. Now, I realize that bird watching is one of those things that either appeals to folks a whole lot or not at all, and that the vast majority of folks fall in the second category, but I really love to spot new, colorful birds. All told I have seen close to 50 new species since I've been here. (Steve, if your reading this, you probably will be disappointed with me, I remember you telling me you saw some 150 in Costa Rica in 2 weeks). Here is a picture of a Turquiose browed Motmot (not mine, I didn't have my camera out at the time). I couldn't help noticing the color of the bird's tail in relation to the color of the water in the cenote and the ocean in Tulum. Coincidence? You be the judge.

After two days in Tulum, there wasn't much left to do, so I took a collectivo to Playa del Carmen. Collectivos are mini-vans that are both cheaper and faster than the buses. The only disadvantage to them is they drive like a bat out of a cave (or, more apropos, a Turquiose browed Motmot out of a cenote) and you have to pile your luggage on your lap. I think of all the beach areas I've visited, Playa del Carmen is my favorite. Cancun has bigger waves, Tulum is more layed back, but Playa del Carmen has better coffee than Tulum and is safer and less populated than Cancun. I am going to try to make it over to the island of Cozumel some time in the near future, but not on this trip.

My Spanish is undergoing a little different test, it is always a challenge to change my environment a bit to see if my language skills are sufficient. In the clinic, conversations tend to be similar, and I have gotten used to saying the same things over and over again. Traveling alone, I have to figure out how to say all kinds of different things, such as "Qué sugieres para cenar, mesero?", which translates to "What do you suggest for dinner, waiter?" Had I have asked this, he might have answered "Yo Sugiero que usted come en cualquier lugar pero aquí", which, loosely translated, means, "get out of here now!" Had all of this transpired, I might not have gotten my first case of Montezuma's revenge of the entire trip. I will spare you the details.

More later, amigos!

Business as Unusual

This could end up being the most boring post yet, so be prepared. The first half of my Mexican experience is over. It probably should be time to reflect, but I'm not in that frame of mind yet, so I'll tell you what I've been up to instead.

I gave a couple of talks the last couple of weeks, one to a group of docs and enfermeras at the local hospital, the other at CREE, the clinic where I work. Both in Spanish of course. The first presentation addressed the role of exercise in the rehabilitation of patients with cancer. This is a topic I admittedly knew little about, and I was given 8 days to prepare for it. I suppose this is penance for having too much fun down here. Those of you that are in the medical fields know how hard it is to keep up with the current literature. The problem here is at least 90% of the research in science these days is done in English, and little of it makes its way down the translation pipeline, so the docs here that don't at least read English (I would guess the vast majority) have added problems keeping up. Enter gringo. Anyway, the talk went well, but I blanked on how to say 500 (quinientos) en espanol, but the audience seemed to forgive me for it. I think putting together these talks has helped me with the past tense, since a good deal of the talks are literature reviews.

The second talk was more up my alley, a comparison of acute tendinitis and chronic tendinosis with rehabilitation implications. As I mentioned in the last post, I actually used this as a vehicle to compare therapy in Mexico with that in the U.S.. I knew it would create some tension with the physiatrists here, they tend to treat the PT's as techs, but I felt it was my duty to speak up in their behalf. Exit gringo. The reaction was mixed, actually some of the PT's were more shaken up by it then the docs, probably because I contrasted the more modern, differential diagnosis, evidence based, active type therapy that is commonly practiced in the states (and by some of the younger therapists here) with the passive, modality driven type that is more common here, especially with the older therapists. Anyway, I had a couple of therapists tell me that I have been a positive influence on them, and that they are going to try to read more, ask more questions, think more before treating. It kinda made me all warm and fuzzy inside, but, after brushing the tears from my eyes, I went back to work.

I must admit that I have gotten a little lazy studying Spanish the last couple of weeks. I'm trying to pay closer attention to what people say, so my comprehension is somewhat better, but I haven't been looking things up as much, etc. It really has been quite mentally exhausting, this process. I still fear the out of context question, because it often takes me a bit of time to figure out what is being said. My speaking is better, I have been able to include more tenses, including the imperfect, preterit, conditional, future, a bit in the present perfect, imperative, and have even been dipping my toe into the subjunctive occasionally.

As far as traveling goes, Aldo and I went on a jaunt last weekend. We were originally going to go straight to Holbox, this island in the northeast corner of la península Yucatán. I said originally, because we missed the exit from the autopista north to the island and ended up almost in Cancun before we realized our error. It really wasn't an error, though, because there wasn't an exit there. In Mexico, to save money, they only have toll stations every so often, so they simply don't have exits were you would think they would. Anyway, it ended up being fun for me, because I hadn't been to Cancun in some 27 years. Boy has it changed. But one thing that hasn't changed are the incredible beaches. We were walking along the beach and I noticed this archeological site nested between two hotels. It is hard to see, but I really got a kick out of it so I decided to post it. Cancun is dfferent from Playa del Carmen in two ways, there are more Gringos and bigger waves in Cancun. The reason there are no waves in Playa del Carmen is because the island of Cozumel is just off the coast and blocks them, you can actually see Cozumel from the beach at Playa del Carmen. Anyway, I love to body surf, so I let the waves pile-drive me into the sand for a few hours, we then cruized the malls (you might as well be in Los Angeles when your there), spent the night, and made our way to Hobox the next day. Here is a picture of those pile-driving waves, of course with perfectly blue water, sugar sand, etc, etc.

Holbox is an island famous for los tiburones ballenas (whale sharks) that migrate very close to shore in great density. They have tours that take you out to swim with them. It must be quite an experience, since whale sharks (the largest fish in the world) can grow in excess of 40 feet long, and there are often dozens of them at a time. During the whale shark season, Holbox is evidently a bustling place. Unfortunately, the season for the whale sharks doesn't start until late May, so we had to be content splashing around in the ocean, which was more like a therapy pool in both placidity and temperature. I have enclosed a picture of the front of our hotel, which was right on the beach (you can sort of see it in the background). All told, it was very relaxing. We then headed back to Campeche, and, save an out of control truck coming right at us that might have squashed us like a bug, the ride back was uneventful. I am heading off to Tulum in a couple of weeks, so I hope to have more fun stuff to talk about and share with you, but for now, Adios!!

Pinche Elton John and the Riviera Maya

I've been in the Yucatan for well over 2 months and I just now made it over to the Caribe side. The beaches along the Mexican Caribe, or Riviera Maya, are as nice as I've ever seen. White sand, ridiculously blue water, you know, the usual fantasy. Equally as nice are the tranquilidad and seguridad I've come to expect in the Yucatan. The weekend of Domingo de Resurreccion (Easter) comes with a 4 day puente here in Mexico, and Aldo, Aldo's brother Leonardo, and I took advantage of it by bopping over to the "other side".

On the way we made a couple of detours. First we hit Chicen Itza, probably the most famous Mayan ruin in Mexico. Unfortunately, Elton John was going to perform a concert there in two days, so they cordoned off a bunch of the site, including the front of the largest piramide (pyramid), the famous reclining man, and the largest cenote. Of course they didn't tell us that when we were buying tickets, and getting a refund in Mexico..... well, I'll leave that up to your imagination. Anyway, it was a bit disappointing. I've never liked Elton John, but now.... well, I'll leave that up your imagination too. Anyway, here is a picture of one of the nicer parts of the ruin that we could access.

After Chicen Itza, we went to a nice cenote (you can't spit in the Yucatan without hitting a cenote) in the middle of this town halfway between Merida and the Caribe called Valladolid. We stopped there for lunch and tooled around. They were doing some sort of shoot there, the place had a camera crew and a Mexican model getting all dolled up. Here is a picture looking up at the restaurant from the inside of the cenote.

Finally, we got to Playa del Carmen, which is about 50 miles south of Cancun (everyone here told me to take a miss on Cancun, too crowded and lousy access to the beaches). Playa del Carmen is plenty touristy too, but suprisingly, once you get off of Avenida Quinta (Mexico's answer to South Beach), you could just as easily be in any small town in the middle of the Peninsula. For instance, there was this great little taqueria run by two very Mayan looking woman just 1 block off the drag.

Our hotel was tucked up right next to the beach, right off of Avenida Quinta, was clean, had air conditioning, a pool, hot water, two queen sized beds, and was less than $100 U.S. a night. Mexico, you gotta love this place! Couldn't resist a picture of the beach right off of the hotel. There is an active night life in Playa del Carmen, it is totally asses to elbows every night until about 4 am. Aldo and his brother closed the bars every night, stumbling in around 5 or so, slept 4 hours, and were ready to go again. I managed to make it until 3 one night, was asleep by 12 the other two (which I'm sure is still some kind of record for me). If you happen to be older than 25, you feel older than 75 when your there.

After 4 days of such tonterias, we were ready to get back, and we blew across the peninsula on the suprisingly good carreteras that run all throughout the Yucatan (yet another misconception about Mexico is that the roads are all bad).

The difference between Mexico and the U.S. are so vast its hard to generalize, but I'm going to do it anyway. In (at least this part of) Mexico, people spend less time being angry, stressed, depressed, judgemental. They work hard, but when they leave work, they leave work. They have much less guilt about having fun. We could learn alot from them (I already have). I only hope that when I get back, I don't fall back into the same old stress fest we have come to accept in the states. Certainly there are things that are better in the states, hmm...for instance, coffee and beer. I'm sure there are others, I just would need more time to come up with them.

Work really has gotten to be more fun. I saw a patient for another therapist the other day who presented with a diagnosis of pes anserine tendinitis. It was obvious that isn't what he had, so I sent him back to the referring MD to see if he would consider an MRI to check for a possible medial meniscus tear. The referring doc wouldn't budge, so I told the PT that: 1. The patient wasn't going to get better with the current treatment, 2. Eventually, the patient would insist on getting an MRI, and 3. He will end up having a degenerative tear of the medial meniscus. Now, if you know me, you know I wouldn't be telling you this story if I didn't end up being right. Anyway, the doc didn't get mad at me, I'm now a bit of a rock star. Hardly a day goes by where I don't get a referrel with imaging included. I'm seeing the staff's family members, I casted a fractured hand the other day, I'm fabricating splints, giving mini-inservices on taping techniques, etc. It really is quite an experience. In addition, I'm going to give a talk for the entire staff here in 3 weeks (of course, in Spanish). I'm going to use the opportunity to contrast PT in the U.S. with PT in Mexico (OK, the list of things that are better in the U.S. is now coffee, beer, and PT). I'm going to use two different treatment approaches for chronic tendinosis as a vehicle. I just want to show the docs that the new generation of PT's being produced here in Mexico are capable of so much more than they realize (and utilize). Wish me luck.

Which brings me to the language part. I'm still struggling with comprehension, so much so that I've now decided I have audio dyslexia. I'm sure the diagnosis doesn't exist, but my audio processing skills are so terrible, they simply deserves a diagnosis all their own. I am improving in speaking though, and my reading skills are good enough to read novels in Spanish.

The daughter of one of my patients has taken pity on me, and I am going over to her house three times a week in the afternoons to talk with her. Her English is only slightly worse than my Spanish, so we trade off languages. She also has two incredibly precocious sons, one 5, the other 8, who are more than willing to correct my grammer and pronunciation. I used to think I was able to speak Spanish as well as a 6 year old, (which, according to Vicente Fox would make me 2 years better than George Bush) but now I'm not so sure.

All told its been quite a ride so far, but I'm not sure I will have much to talk about for quite awhile, so I will sign off for now. Chao.

Northern Yucatan

Merida is centrally located in northern Yucatan and is therefore a great jumping off point. Deb and I did several interesting things from there. First, we went to Uxmal, yet another wonderful Mayan ruin. What makes Uxmal unique, at least in comparison to the other sites I have seen, is the quality of the façades (picture 1). In addition, there is a well preserved Mayan ballcourt. The Mayans played a game with a small rubber ball that they would strike with their hips. The idea was to keep the ball in play in hopes of passing it through a stone ring (see picture 2). Kind of like quidditch without the broomsticks. The games would go on for quite a while, and I have been told that the winning team would be rewarded by being sacrificed. So, in essence, the best athletes in the Mayan world probably never got the chance to pass their genes on to the next generation. Talk about your reverse evolution!

After Uxmal, we drove way out to el medio de nada, and, of course, got lost several times (Mexico, at times, neglects to provide one with signage) We finally prevailed, and found the cenotes that we had heard about. Cenotes are underground sinkholes/caves filled with crystal clear water. The water is the perfect temperature, so swimming is a must. Just outside of the little town of Cuzama, there are three such cenotes within a few kilometers of each other. When we drove up to the place, we were met by a guy who directed us to a small train car on narrow gauge tracks pulled by a horse! And I thought I had traveled in every conceivable way. We were able to see all three cenotes, and all told, it was quite a unique adventure. Below is a picture of Deb and me in our car, and another of the first of the three cenotes.

The next day was our last together, so we decided to trek off to the northwest coast of the Yucatan to check out the flamingos and beaches of Celestun. The flamingos were impossibly colorful, more orange than pink, and stood more than a meter high. They live in the mangrove swamps all year long, but are only visible in the spring when they come out to mate. We also saw several other species of birds as well as a crocodile. The beach was nice, but not up to par with the Caribe side of the Yucatan. I think the mediocre beaches on the Gulf side of the Yucatan are the major reason that it isn't packed with tourists. That evening, we drove back to Merida, got up early the next morning, I saw Deb off on the plane, returned our rental car, (with over a 1000 new miles on it) jumped on a bus, and returned to Campeche.
On the language side of things, I am back in the saddle, I had a series of dinners with patient's families, and as long as I was able to direct the conversation somewhat, I was OK. The trouble for me is still comprehension, so when people change the subject quickly (for instance, this physics professor, who is all over the place) I lose track. Actually, it works out fine for me because I can talk, but I can't understand. Since I really don't care much what other people have to say, and just want to get my opinions heard, its rather optimal.
Finally, on the therapy side of things, things are good, although a bit slow. The average PT here only sees about 12 patients a day, and they see the same patients for months. Imagine groundhog day in Spanish, and you pretty much get it. In addition, there is no HIPAA here, no malpractice, no demandas (law suits), so instead of spending 50 hours or more a year taking (and retaking, and retaking) on-line courses on HIPAA and all the other related topics, and spending 10 hours or more a week documenting, therapists here actually have time to treat patients. What a concept. Next weekend is yet another puente (long weekend), so I'm going ot take a bus to the east coast of the Yucatan to check it out, that should give me something to talk about for my next post. Nos vemos!

Deb arrives!

Forgive me Father for I have traveled and it has been almost 3 weeks since my last admission.

The last 10 days have been a whirlwind. Deb arrived, and we whipped through the Yucatan like an unruly hurricane. First, we went to Calakmul, an ancient Mayan city plopped in the middle of a 6 million acre jungle. We stayed in an "ecolodge". (translated, ecolodges are expensive, rustic cabins, a veritable miracle in modern marketing. Since it contains the prefix "eco", you feel really good about spending lots more money than you normally would for such austerity).

Let me try to set the stage for Calakmul. On the drive in, you pass a gate (where you, of course, pay a bunch of pesos), and drive for about 40 miles deep into the jungle before you arrive at the entrance, (where you, of course, pay a bunch more pesos), and walk for another couple of miles to the ruins.

We gave a ride to a local guy who has worked at Calakmul for 15 years. He had us stop at various places to show us cool stuff, like a scarred chicle tree that used to be drained for its sap to make chewing gum, (it doesn't kill the tree, kind of like tapping maple trees for syrup). This is, by the way, where the term chicklets came from. Evidently there used to be a big chewing gum factory along the road. It must have been good karma to pick him up, because in the course of our one hour drive in, we saw keel-billed toucans, wild turkeys, chachalacas, a great curassow, a fledgling eagle, a pack of wild javelinas (picture above), a tiny deer about the size of a dog (second picture) called a red brocket deer, or temazate in espanol (which is evidently quite a find), and a cascabel (rattlesnake). Even the local guy said we were lucky.

Then we got to the ruins. The ruins are only partially excavated and seem to grow right out of the jungle floor. It is like no place I've ever been. There are four ruins that are taller than the trees that allow for views of the vastness of the jungle that are, well, vast. The third picture is of Deb and me on top of a ruin (estructura uno) looking across the jungle to estructura dos and neighboring Guatemala. Evidently, back in the day, the city of Calakmul, along with Palenque and Tikal, were the most important of the Mayan settlements. Calakmul and Tikal had a trade route, or camino blanco, between them that stretched through the jungle for 50 miles. Like all good neighbors, they fought constantly, trading off dominance for hundreds of years.

We ended up spending over 6 hours hiking throughout the ruins and saw all kinds of birds as well as both howler and spider monkeys feeding from the same tree. We visited 4 other ruins on that leg of the trip including Balamku, Chicanna, Becan and Hocheb. Each ruin has its own charm, but Hochob was especially cool because it is so off the beaten path, Deb and I spent a couple of hours there and saw only one other person, the caretaker. They tell us that Hocheb, although quite small, is one of the best examples of the Chene style of architecture (I have no idea what that means, but it sounds pretty impressive, and I'm a professor, after all). The last picture is of Deb inside the mouth of a serpent at Chicanna.

After returning to Camphece, I gave Deb the two day special tour of the museums, muralla, malecon, etc., and then we were off to Merida. Merida is a nice enough place, a city of over a million in northern Yucatan, but I'm still not sure why folks rave about it. I found it a bit touristy, with lots of shops filled with the same old same old, and proprietors trying to pull you in off the streets. I guess I'm accustomed to the "mas tranquilo" atmosphere aqui in Campeche. Anyway, Deb and I used it as a jumping off place for three adventures which I will talk about in my next blog! Tomorrow I am to return back to work, spending 10 days with Deb was a blessing, but I'm afraid I've forgotten half of the little Spanish I knew.

Mas Gringos en Campeche

The last couple of days have been interesting. As bad as my Spanish still is (todavia es muy mal, yo prometo), I have actually been called upon to be a translator twice in as many days. First, for a woman who's husband had a stroke while working in Lousiana. Most of his medical records were in English and the family was curious what had happened to him there (he is totally aphasic). I discovered that he had some money that mysteriously disappeared while he was at a hospital in Lousiana (bienvenidos a Estados Unidos).
The next day, I had to translate a conversation between a tecnico en Estados Unidos and another tecnico aqui in Campeche. It seems that there was something wrong with the gas water heaters they use to heat a therapy pool at a facility here. I managed to figure out that the heaters were designed to run either on natural gas or propane, and the folks here in Mexico were using butane gas. The only type of gas available here is butane. So, they invested about $7,000 in two heaters that aren't going to work. Esto es un gran problema. Esto es Mexico. Anyway, it was a good test of my Spanish.

Two of the biggest industries here in Campeche are fishing and shrimping. For those of you who don't know, the Gulf of Mexico has the best shrimp in the world, and Campeche has some of the best shrimp in the Gulf.

There are these gigantic shrimp in the Gulf that Texans call "jumbo shrimp" (talk about your oxymoron). Here in Campeche, they are called piguas. I have attached a photo of a camaronero (shrimper) who was pushing his boat out into the gulf to check on his shrimp traps. Actually I just made that up, I have no idea what he was doing. I didn't notice it at the time, but he had on a University of Michigan hat. My brother Jim, who works at U of M, got a big kick out of that. I talked to the fisherman later, and he told me he was mortified with the performance of the U of M football team in recent years. Actually, I never talked to him, I just made that up as well.

Jessica Castellano arrived to Campeche this week. It was illuminating to see the city through her eyes. I took her to the muralla (wall around the city) and to the market, where there are a series of kioskos of fruits, vegetables, etc. for sale. The reason I said this was illuminating is because it seemed so foriegn to Jess, but so familiar to me. I realized that I have, in some ways, become a part of Campeche. I have never felt this way in all of my world travels. In the past, I have always felt like an outsider looking in.
For those of you that know Jess, I don't have to tell you what a breath of fresh air she brings to everything, and her first day in the clinic was no exception. It was a fun day indeed. It has been interesting to see how differently Mexicans respond to a young woman verses a crusty old guy. Now, I realize even in the states a pretty young woman is going to elicit a different response than a man, but the difference here is much more pronounced. Below is a picture of Jess on top of the eastern baluarte (bastion) of the muralla. The baluartes can be found at several places along the muralla and were areas of extra fortification against the piratas. While we were atop the muralla, Jess got to see her first iguana (always a defining moment in any Mexican experience). I also took Jess to Fuerte San Miguel which has been transformed into a wonderful Museo Arqueológico. I have attached a photo of a 1700 year-old Mayan figurine from the Museo.

Jess speaks some Spanish, so this has been a good chance for her to hone her skills in Spanish and experience physical therapy in Mexico. Aldo and I took her to Edzna to see the ruins. All told, I think her experience here has been a good one. She is going to be returning to the states next week, and then Deb is coming for 10 days. Deb and I are going to travel throughout the Yucatan, the details of which I will talk about in my next blog posting. More later!

Los Campechanos y Cocodrilos

Today was hot, not warm, hot, and its still February. Rumor has it that April and May here are not fit for man nor beast. And misquitos, Dios mio, I'm not saying they're big, but they ought to require a pilot, co-pilot and navigator in the cockpit. Live is actually taking on a bit of a routine here. No big trips to report. I am starting to feel a bit like a real Campechano, except I can't speak Spanish very well, am at leat 12 cm taller than the average Campechano, have light skin, light hair, and blue eyes (and, I'm sure, dress funny). My one month aniversario has come and gone. I did get invited to a cocodrilo farm located in an escuela preparatoria (instead of grade school, middle school and high school, the Mexican equivalent is escuela primaria, secundaria, and preparatoria). We later went to a nature center where they had preserved a few acres of the mangrove swamps that Campeche used to sit on. I have attached a picture of both the crocodile farm and the mangrove swamp. (You can click on the image to get a better look at that bad boy above). In addition, I recently got an invite to a football (soccer) game that my buddy Aldo was playing in. The level of football was actually quite good. I have discovered if you want a quick insight into the culture of a given area, go to a public sporting event and to the local cemetary. Anyway, I learned all kinds of words at the football game I probably won't be able to repeat too often. By the way, I did make it to the local cemetary.

My Spanish speaking has hit a bit of a wall, but I think that is to be expected. I am trying to engage more folks in conversation, but I continue to have good days and bad days. In addition, there are folks that are easier for me to understand than others. The dialect here is quite different, I think it is the equivalent of a Costa Rican, for example, learning English in London for a few months and ending up in rural Alabama. En resume, espanol en los libros y en la aula es muy diferente que espanol en la calle.

The PT thing is moving along, patients here in Mexico, as I said before, are more involved on the whole than in the US, and are therefore seen for a lot longer period of time. There are no insurance companies to appease, therapists don't even do daily notes. It is left to the professional opinion of the PT to decide when to DC a patient (imagine!).

I mentioned last entry that the final day of Carnaval was Martes de Pintadera, the day before Miercoles de Ceniza (ash Wedensday) when the locals douse each other with paint. It ended up that I did brave it and go out, and I'm glad I did because I got this great picture of some boys just coming back from the festival.

In the immediate future, Jessica Castellano (one of my PT students from UNM) is coming next week to help out and get the Mexican experience for 10 days, and then Deborah (my wife of veintiuno anos) is coming for a 10 day vacation. Deb and I are planning a trip to Merida, Calakmul (a wonderful Mayan ruin deep in the selva muy cerca de la frontera de Guatemala) and to Celestun (an island con muchos flamingos y otros pajaros interesantes). More later! Hasti Spumonti!

Palenque, Chiapas and the Zapatistas

I just got back from a long weekend in Chiapas, a state in Mexico very close to the Guatemalan border (Long weekends due to holidays are called puentes in Mexico and are, happily, quite common). Palenque is a small town in Chiapas were there are a series of Mayan ruins in the jungle, the majority of which are still unexcavated. The first picture is of me in front of some of the excavated ruins. I went for a hike in the unexcavated part where I was swallowed up by the vastness of the jungle and reproached by howler monkeys.

Equally interesting to me was the area just south of Palenque, were there are a series of Zapatista villages. The Zapatistas are a group of socialist rebels concentrated in Chiapas who are opposed to what they believe is the government sanctioned (or at least ignored) repression of the Mexican people by big corporations and land barons. They have been around for nearly a hundred years, and conflicts between the Zapatistas and the Mexican Government are common, and often bloody. Currently there are areas in Chiapas that are not under the control of the Mexican Government. I was in such an area when I went south from Palenque to Aqua Azul, a series of stunning waterfalls in the middle of the jungle. To the left is a picture of Agua Azul. After Aqua Azul, I went to another area, Ocosingo, where there is a large waterfall, Misol-Ha, where one can hike around and even behind the falls. The second picture is of Misol-Ha. On my way back to Campeche, I hit the beach in Sabancuy for a couple of hours. All told the trip was a bit of a whirlwind, covering over 600 miles of the Mexican landscape in under three days.

At the clinic, my day typically consists of work until about 3, at which time my Spanish speaking is all but over. This weekend, however, I had to think in Spanish every waking hour, which I found mentally exhausting. I am at the point were I have a collection of canned phrases down pat, and can work outside of them with halting Spanish. In addition, I am able to conjure up more words and conjugate (even correctly on occasion) more verbs on the run. Don't get the wrong idea though, I'm certian my Spanish continues to be a source of amusement to Aldo and others.

On the therapy side of things, things are going well, I continue to help with patient treatment. I find it sad that a typical therapist here in Mexico makes the equivalent of only about $10,000 a year! And, after they are done with their 5 years of study, they "owe" the government of Mexico a year of servicio social, which is only reimbursed at about 1/2 the usual salary (even if they went to a private school!). I have enclosed a picture of a patient being treated by Alejandro, one of the therapists in our clinic, (Cree), and another of a group of PT students and "servicios sociales".

The Carnaval is almost over here in Campeche, it seems to go on forever (it is two weeks long). Yesterday was a large desfile, or parade, with floats and costumes. Today is the last day, the Martes de Pintadera. Evidently, on this day, people stand in wait to attack each other with balloons filled with dyed water, or even oil. I think I'm going to lie low. Tomorrow is back to normal, clinic all day. More later!

Carnaval

A couple of days ago, I went for a run along the malecón, which is Spanish for, essentially, seawall or jetty. It runs at least 6 miles along the sea in the city limits. It is quite nice, with a lane for bikers, another for runners, and a third for walkers. Anyway, I was running and I saw a large congregation, in the middle of which a man was running with a torch. He was flanked on both sides by motorcycle cops, I guess for fear that someone might try to blow the thing out. Anyway, the torch was either to celebrate the upcoming carnaval or the upcoming olympics in Canada. I'm not sure which, but I'm going with the latter, at least when I tell my grandchildren about this adventure.

On the Spanish speaking side of things, in my first couple of weeks here, the only Mexicans I could understand were those that were transplanted here from larger cities such as Puebla or De Efe (short for Distrita Federal, another name for Ciudad de Mexico, others refer to it simpy as "Mexico"). The other night however, I could actually carry on a conversation with Téodoro, the guy who works nights here at the hotel. When I first got here, he might as well have been speaking Greek (In fact I think he was, just to mess with me).


The therapy end of things is going well, it is refreshing to treat only patients that really need my services, there is no litigation or worker's comp here. Folks don't come here because they have a little pain in thier low back (don't all of us?), they come in because they have foot drop, amputations, multiple trauma, etc., and most of them are still working, they have no choice. They are also incredibly generous. Hardly a day goes by where I don't get some sort of gift from a patient, cookies, soft drinks, whatever. They have practically nothing to give, but they want to show their appreciation in some way. In fact, tonight I am going to dinner at one of my patient's houses, she and her husband have asked me and Alejandro, another terapeuta fisico here to join them. I went out with some of the docs last night, we drank tequila and karaokied (is this even a word?) until 1:30 (actually they were still going strong, but I bailed, that is way past my bedtime). Imagine me trying to sing Mi Manera (My Way) in Spanish. Tomorrow, Superbowl Sunday (most locals couldn't care less). I'm going to Aldo's house for a Superbowl party.



Amidst all of the social scheduling, I managed to squeeze in a long walk today to El Barrio de San Francisco, where sits the oldest Catholic Church in North America, Iglesia de San Francisco (built in 1546), and the coolest building, the Teatro Renacimiento (revival theatre, it burned to the ground in the 1910 and was completely rebuilt). I have enclosed a picture of each. Next weekend, if the weather is good, I am going to go north to Merida and the beaches of northern Yucatan, or south to Palenque, Chiapas if the forcast calls for rain. More then!!