So here we go agian, a GIGANTIC POSTING from the mysterious and far-flung Greg Hodapp. It has been a long time and I sincerely apologize to everyone that I have not talked to for a while. It's been a crazy two years. As you know I decided to strike out to california almost two years ago to earn some money and be free for a few more years of my twenties. I worked at Walker Creek Ranch Outdoor Education Center for a year and half and during that time met a wonderful, sweet, smart, strong, wierd woman named Sara Ashkannejhad. Emailed, phoned, visited every other weekend, and snail mailed for almost a whole year, and now here I am. Living with my sweetie in Eugene Oregon. After travelling from wisconsin to california to oregon my mind is still a bit boggled but adjustment is a process and its processing along well.
Sara Grew up in Gilette Wyoming so along with being wierd she is humble, solid, and down to earth. She got her masters in forestry and ectomycorrizhial fungus, and likes to brew beer, wine, and cider (we made ten gallons of hard cider last fall). she's an interesting mix of hippie, gardener, funk dancer, folk dancer, pirate and farmer. So obviously she's awesome.
Sara and I have raised garden beds, chickens, cold weather, and coniferous trees so in an odd way its a lot like wisconsin. We also have rolling hills, river valleys, and congested traffic so in and odd way its a lot like cincinnati ohio. Perfect combination for a Greg. Sara and I both like smaller towns so we think about moving to the country or to another town, but Sara has a great Job with the Bureau of Land Management and we need that right now especially since I am currently Gainfully Unemployed.
So with all the crazy process of moving, and meeting people, adjusting, looking for work, getting my last paychecks, and getting down to buisness of learning just who is this wonderful crazy person I have moved in with we decided that it was high time to go to a foriegn country. Actually we'd bought our non- refundable tickets quite some time ago. So like it or not (and we did like it) we were going to the YUCATAN, MEXICO (insert a mariachi band and a sweaty moustached many going YII YII YIIIYIIIIIIIII HAHAHHAAHHAA!! here)
It was great, we went from cancun to valladolid far inland on the first day. we stayed in nice cheap hotel fro 12 dollars a night and had our first traditional yucatecan meals of cochinata pibil and pollo escabeche. this first one is sort of pulled pork in a sweet pepper sauce with beans and rice, and the second is a well roasted half chicken plopped in a bowl of chicken stock, roasted peppers and onions and lime juice served with fresh corn tortillas. yum yum yum. As you can probably tell most of the high poinst of our trip were defined by food.
this is also were we contracted traveler's diahrea, which consists of the feeling that there is a boa constrictor making its way slowly through your intestines that likes to spend an extra specially long period of time in your stomach to kick around and blow bubbles for a bit making you feel like your appendix may have just burst, then squirming its squishy way down your small intestines making strange noises as it goes then taking a break in your large intestine to kick REALLY hard and blow yet more bubbles before it careens drunkenly through your back door with even knocking first. freaking boa constrictors. The cardinal rule of travelers diahrea: never trust a fart.
This is made doubley tricky by the fact that there are no toilet seats anywhere in the yucatan, I guess in the fear that somone will steal them and sell them on the lucrative toilet seat black market. I can just see blindfolded american gangsters being led into dark cloaked smokey rooms where row upon row of toilet seats await to be smuggled out of the country as neck rests in buisness class flights to miami.
but we made do sara is talented enough to not have to actually sit on the toilet (yes I know, she's amazing... and she's all mine) I however am not physically coordinated enough to accomplish this feat and therefore had to heroically risk drowning and certain death to relieve myself.
Valladolid where we spent two days was a biggish town of 50,000 or so with incredible murals about the history of the yucatan from the Classic Maya to the peasant revolution against the spanish upper class who were apparently real slavedriving, maya language book burning, temple destroying dousche bags. There was also a beautiful spanish colonial church (falling apart like most of them)by a big town square where sara and I sat and played the mandolin on beautiful cement love seats made so that you sit facing each other. Sun setting, fountain, cute mayan kids running around, music, getting pooped on by a flock of a thousand screaming grackles. very romantic.
This is also the place where I sustained my first and only major injury. I was lightheaded and hungry and tired from traveling and not being too observant at the time I stepped in what I thought was the shadow of the curb of the sidewalk cast by the streetlights, but which was actually a foot deep four inch wide gutter that promptly swallowed my foot whole cutting my leg lightly in two places. I didn't think much of this untill we got back to the hotel and I was cleanign the wound out that I remembered just how many stray dogs and rusty pieces of metal I had seen in only our first few hours of being here. I crossed my fingers and dabbed on as much iodine as I could, with toilet paper our only sanitary cloth which of course came off in the cut so for the next few days I had a toilet paper second skin there.
Not that I was carefull or anything but the next day we went swimming in some cenotes with lots of bird poop (another generall theme of the trip). Let me explain what cenotes are. Most of the yucatan's soils are composed of a solid layer of very porous limestone so when rain falls it doesn't waste any time but goes its merry way directly twenty feet underground where it stays untill it reaches the ocean. This historically has made it very hard for the Maya to do things like grow food, ...and drink. No wonder the main deity there is Chaac, the Mayan rain god. luckily there are cenotes which are sinkholes that open up here and there exposing the vast underground river below.
We went to two cenotes across the road from each other, walking down ancient Mayan steps and since we were still on oregon time we were super early and had the beautiful crystal blue waters and cascading banyan roots all to ourselves. We also had the skin nibbling guppies, black catfish and raining swallow/bat poop all to ourselves. With all this grossness its suprising that the water stays so clean and beautiful and you realize why when you swim over the hole in the middle of the cenote which goes down and down into to the black heart of the earth full of ancient extinct sea monsters and giant black catfish with a taste for gringos. Or at least that's what I thought while swimming over it. The other cenote had more people and a guide who for ten pesos would show you stalactite formations that sort of looked like: a camel, a turtle, an old man, a mask, and a penis.
After we were all cenote'd out we bought a whole chilled coconut and two straws from a Mayan vendor and sat in the shade in a hammock and sipped fresh coconut juice while watching scrawny puppies fight,.... yeah, I know it sucked.
We thought we'd walk the six kilometers or so back to the highway and catch the bus but after a few hot kilos (of walking) we thought better and hitched a ride with some construction guys in a van to the crossroads. And after waiting an hour or so for the bus for Tizimin (we were headed north through there to Rio Lagartos) we got impatient and hitched a ride in the back of a pickup. Nothing says fun and adventure like bouncing along in the back of a pickup watching the yucatecan countryside roll by stopping in small towns where old Mayan ladies sell fresh jicama, fruit, and juice to thirsty drivers.
We got to Tizimin on the day of a huge History days festival, lots of cheap vendors and stands and throngs of people, non of which knew how to get to the bus station, but Mayans are extremely helpful and friendly so not knowing how to get to the bus station doesn't stop them from giving you directions there. So after getting lost and wandering up and down the streets of Tizimin asking every bus and collectivo if they were heading to rio lagartos and getting a definitive no we sucked it up and got a taxi. We learned later that you need to ask where the Terminal del autobus is instead of where the Estacion del autobus is.
So we arrived in rio Lagartos a realy nice fishing town of 2,000 or so where all the fishermen and boat guides walk barefoot everywhere, flocks of snowy egrets float over the bay at sunset and everyone is friendly and laid back. It was like what jimmy buffet likes to think he sings about times a million. We had heard that the inland waterway and barrier islands in rio lagartos was were almost all the flamingos in this part of the worlds went to breed and gather for feeding frenzies in the salt flats. So being a bird nerd I had to go. We hired a guide for sixty dollars, had a boat all to ourselves and proceeded up the river surrounded by huge multitudes of herons, egrets, night herons, shorebirds, anhingas, cormorants, frigates, and more ospreys then I've every seen in one place. After about an hour of the coolest coastal swamp anywere we arrived at the salt flats. they have been harvested since classic maya times and now have a mountain high salt pile and factory. They also just happen to have flocks of hundreds and hundreds of bright pink, crazy, wierd-ass, fighting, gobbling flamingos. As a bird nerd I was speechless, as a wierd-o I was honored and inspired. Nobody does wierd like a flamingo. Something that you think should be stately and beautiful is really dumb, has an upside down beak, beady eyes, makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a turkey and a lap dog, and has three fot legs skinny as a toothpick. Did I mention that they eat sea monkeys upside down?
After the river tour and some awesome and extremely rare american crocodiles we had the guide drop us off at the barrier Island beach which we had all to ourselves and which was coated with incredible sea shells, and all kinds of birds, and a dead dolphin, I mean how much cooler can you GET?!!
We were in Rio Lagartos for two days, we should have stayed longer it was so relaxing and we had a cheap place to stay and the food was so oceanically delicious (whole fried snapper anyone?) but we had the travel bug (no not the pooping one0 so off we went to the second biggest city in the yucatan- merida.
We arrived in Merida in the rain and I made the mistake of asking a crazy old hammock salesman for directions. He followed us for two blocks giving us nonesense directions and asking hopefully if we wanted una hammocka muy barato. Eventually after navigating through the wet puddle filled streets that smelled like pig shit we made it to the cheapest hostel in Merida. We were greeted at the door by a very nice, but very senile old man who said in perfect english "don't worry this is the right place to be, I'm in deep with the Merida mafia so no one will bother you here. You know my mission as a bishop is very important to me, I know an archangel he sweeps the sidewalk in the park- great wise man, Did I tell you I was a car-theif in my youth? I can tell you about my time as a federale...... or wait I guess I wasn't ever a federale.... what was I..... I guess I was a federale of God, yes that's it." A very kind and charming but definitely nuts man. The next morning he invited us to sit with him and told us we couldn't leave untill we had coffee and some of yesterdays fish and bean soup which we had seen rotting in the kitchen yesterday. The kitchen itself was piled high with dirty dishes, rotten food stained walls and floors and was scrupulously ignored by the two "helpers" that the old man had working for him. They apparently only
In Merida we walked to the natural history museum which had a great exhibit on the rainforest with a mix of both mounted and plastic toy animals in a room full of wax plants and sticks. (it really was a nice museum though)
We went to the zoo as well which had (as our guide book said) and impressive collection of sheep and goat species from around the world. Stupid book, there were only two species of sheep and goat, but there were a whole hell of a lot of turtles and a walk through aviary full of pigeons ( as if our poop luck wasn't bad enough) and a random and very lonely white pelican. ("sure," I can imagine the zookeepers saying, "A pelican in the pigeon and duck aviary makes perfect sense").
We were also at the peak of traveler's diahrea in merida and we spent a lot of time avoiding food. But we did go to the public market which was covered with acres and acres of Maya family farmstands brimming with crazy insane unrecognizable fruits and vegetables and hanging chunks of meat, and home made pots and pans and tools. and boxes full of live chickens and ducks and a random box full of puppies. There was also a drum band full of Yucatacen student punk hippies playing and singing (I think) Yucatecan songs. It was the classic market scene that I imagined. If only we still had such a strong showing of such places in north america, I think people would be much more aware of what they're eating, where it comes from, and who grows it, building ties and community. That would be nice. We have that in Eugene, and in Chequamegon bay, and I can only hope we get more of it.
After merida we went to Ticul by bus, and (this is really cool) all the first class busses show movies, so we were treated to a great cinematic classic called "Alien v.s. Alien." A timeless story of good versus evil, where and alien called the omega centurion who is trying to destroy earth is batteled by an alien named Jude and his new human friends. Plus it was in english so my brain could take a break from thinking for a while.
Ticul was nice, we ate a lot of fruit there since it had a great friendly public market. We had a great traditional meal from a Cocina Economica (economic kitchen -which in the states means "shitty food" but in the yucatan means "cheap delicious food") Boiled turkey, pig leg section, boiled carrots, squash, plantains served with tortillas, limes, salsa, and a bowl of the boiled stuff's own stock. Once again, yum yum yum.
Sara and I also discovered the glory that is panuchos. These are thick corn tortillas slit open and filled with bean mush then fried in lard and topped with shredded turkey, lettuce, fresh salsa, and pickled onions. And holy crap they are good. We searched in vain for them on the carribean cost but to no avail. They are like an endangered delicious animal, eat them while you still can. Salbutes are similar but are not stuffed with delicious bean mush. There is also a delicious greasy corn bread, baked in a smokey oven and mixed with sprouted black beans. That eaten with a fresh giant ovacado and half a perfectly ripe cantalope is just about enough to make your brain explode. Given that all that costs under five dollars I think my brain actually did explode. Apparantly I'm better now since I'm writing but that doesn't necesarrily mean much.
While we were in Ticul we made a side trip to the small town of Santa Helena, up in the maya hills. It has a large colonial church built (as are many) on top of the orignial mayan temple of the town to symbolize spanish dominance. You can still see the shape of the temple and the steps leading up to the church. Everyone is friendly and the language of choice for the old folks is Mayan.
The reason I bring up Santa Helena is for all my urban and rural homesteading friends (If Xander doesn't get this someone send it to him) The yucatan, especially here, is the mecca for every experimental home-made, mud built, cinder blocked, plastered, palm thatched, ingenuified living structure possibly imaginable. What people do with thier homes and yards is enough to make an american homesteader wet themselves. Everyone has chickens, turkeys, and ducks in their yard, Many people have small cattle, pigs, and goats. They're fed with agricultural waste and kitchen scraps. Everyone has a garden and a small banana, papaya, mango, avocado orchard. Everyone has a building with a traditional palm thatched wattle and daub hut on it somewhere and the placement of such structures does not matter on a neighborhood to nieghborhood basis. Cinder block mansions with yards full of garbage are situated directly next to mayan huts with immiculate yards and banana plantations, and vice versa. Keeping up with the jonses, and zoning regulations do not exist there. I'm sure that causes some problems, but none that I noticed in Santa Helena.
After ticul and about nine days of travel, and one night in Tulum at the weary travelers hostel (so called because you get no sleep there due to all the college students playing techno untilll 2:00 am and making you feel really old) we went to our last stopping point and the SLOTH and LAZINESS part of our journey- Punta Allen. This is a small Fishing village on the end of an extremely long and skinny sand peninsula. Its starting to get a bit full of expatriates, hippies, and burgeosie flyfisherman, but its still the same friendly open group of people that greet you anywhere you go in the yucatan besides Cancun and the Riviera Maya.
My friend Jeff Gecas, owner of the Gunflint tavern, used to talk about this place all the time so I decided to take his advice and check it out. We rented a Palapa (maya palm thatched hut) on the beach- one for 45 dollars a night- cheaper becuase it was just slightly less close to the water than the others but still surrounded by sugar soft white sand, coconut palms, and the smell of frying fish from the incredibley delicious beach bar next door. This place is called the cuzan guest house if anyone is wondering, and rents palapas from 180 - 45 dollars a night.
So we lazed our days away, drinking beer, eating fresh plank cooked fish and shrimp, guacamole, beans and rice, and tiny little bananas that tasted like sweet apples. Once agian- yum yum yum. I know you might be feeling sorry for Sara and I, but don't worry, we perservered and tried to keep our minds off the wonderful food and relaxation by snorkeling off the shore chasing sea turtles and sting rays, and lying on the dock playing music while watching the carribean stars swirl around in the warm black sky. Yeah, ...it was pretty rough.
We also had the oppurtunity to meet with my friends Chris, Bridget, Moosa and of course Jeff Gecas from Grand Marias Minnesota. It was a bit odd hanging out with people from a small, cold, touristy fishing village, IN a small warm, touristy fishing village. Sara and I sat especially long with Jeff and chatted while I remenisced about playing music up in Grand Marias. Jeff kept on ordering beers and and we were pretty drunk when we realized it was almost time for us to go on the tour we had signed up with (a three-hour tour no less). So we weaved our way back to the palapa got our stuff together and climbed on board the boat with some very nice and funny quebecois and belgian couples we had met last night. Lesson number one about drinking a lot of diuretics and then going on a three hour boat tour- Don't.
I never had to pee so much in my life, and was extremely uncomfortable especially while bouncing from wave to wave while my bladder did it's best Star Trek's Mr. Scott imitation (if yee giver any more, she's gonna blow!)
However it was a beautiful trip we saw a huge sea turtle, an island full of pelicans, cormants, and roseate spoonbills, and we dove on a coral reef. I peed as much as I could on the reef. I found that it's hard to pee while swimming and pretending to looked amazedely at natures bounty, especially when your urinating on it. I stayed in the water a long time and even outlasted the gigantic belgians (thank you blubber). Sara and the quebecois folks got really cold, and we had to cuddle up in bed for a long while afterwards to get warm (sans qeubecois).
This was our last night in the Yucatan, after we warmed up we had dinner and some more beer with jeff and ran into some musicians, Diego and his traveling group of gypsies (hippies). We got more drunk and played more music, then got drunker and musicier untill finally amidst many farewells, goodbyes, and thank yous, we went to bed if for nothing else then to avoid watching the sixty year old Tarot card reader shake her booty anymore.
We woke up at 4:30 in the morning to catch the collectivo to Tulum arrived in Cancun at 10:00am ate pork tacos and a milk shake which did not go well together, and got to the airport with time to kill.
Got back to portland oregon, tired, reminiscent, and slightly sunburnt. We spent the next day with Sara's sisters Mina, and Holly had a wonderful day laughing and recuperating and after a three hour drive Arrived back home to Mr. Toby Malone (dog), Ara (housemate), Chickens (chickens), and Rain (cold).
So, things are well, and I'm ready go get back into playing music. I've been running around like the proverbial chicken- booking gigs, making phone calls, trying to get some part time work, and even (gulp) looking for land.
Hey I just built a strawbale house, why not another one? (picture cringing greg here).
Hope all is well with you and yours, take care untill we meet agian.
-Greg
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