Day 11: Copan Ruinas

10.11.2012

Copan Ruinas is subtly pretty. There's no "wow" moment here no matter where you go.
Yet, it was my favorite ruin.

After the first hour of roaming, Dad goes into the tunnels that I didn't pay entrance fees for (didn't think it'd be worth it), so I decide to head straight back to the entrance and write in my journal.

On the way back, I catch a glimpse of a set of ruins not too tall nor really spectacular. No one seems to be interested in them, understandable, but I decide to give it a shot and jump into the desolate zone.
While approaching the first structure, I'm suddenly mesmerized by the balance of nature and artificial piles of brick. On top of the highest platform there, I look down at the scene, take a deep breath in, and sigh with big relief.
For the next 30 minutes, I hop around like a kid, stop to look at flowers, question oddly positioned stones, jump onto new heights, look for new angles/approaches to the scenery, and lose track of time...
I like this place, and for the short moment, I forget about the world and lose myself within the bricks, flowers, and trees.
All is brought back to reality when two stupid tourists enter my kingdom. I become self conscious, gather myself, act like I'm just hopping around to take pictures and nonchalantly leave my sacred space.

I realize here that alone time is important. Unknowingly, trying to be considerate of each other, Dad and I had been speeding-up/slowing-down our paces. Sharing experiences is always wonderful, but at times it's important to go at your own pace and absorb the things in ways that only you can.
Or was it Copan Ruinas itself that made me lose myself? It probably was a combination of both my free time and the beautiful ruins.
Whatever the case, for the first time in my life, I truly enjoyed just looking at old stuff.

Dad and I agreed that from here on, we'd try to find a good balance of time together and alone.

Day 10: to Copan Ruinas (Honduras)

10.20.2012

Simply put, on our way to the local bus stop, we were tricked into paying a taxi driver in the early early morning. I try my hardest, speed up my thinking to avoid all negative outcomes, rightfully accuse the driver of his lies, but end up paying him after his persistent sob-story. He smiles hugely and vigorously shakes both our hands as he leaves.
He had won.

Here starts the long journey to the border and beyond, to Copan Ruins. The locals' bus makes frequent stops to load/unload people and baggage; vendors come in to sell food and drinks; salesmen make speeches to advertise beauty products, magazines, and lollipops (lollipops need a speech?); it gets windy; it rains and droplets fall through the wide open emergency-door on the roof; it's quite entertaining.

But even with all the "entertainment," somehow I hit the blues. The beautiful scenery and Guatemalans hard at work don't serve as inspiration to pick me up.
"I want to go home."

Something changes though once we transfer onto a microbus at Chiquimula, to make the last stretch to the border. The air cools, the greens are calming, and the mountains grand and peaceful. My heart relaxes, I can feel energy flowing through my body, and I realize that I have a smile on my face. 9 hours in the dark. I come back to remind myself why I'm doing this, and start making further plans for the future.
Throughout the microbus ride, a lady in her later 30's, keeps on blurting out words of advice. "pay now," "no, not here," "show your ticket to him," "almost there," "get off here." So subtle, her kindness. And although I don't consider her attractive really, she is beautiful. I thank her as we get off and she shyly responds, "de nada."

Concerned still about our rate of spending, we eat on the streets in Copan. Chuleta - huge slice of grilled pork cuz Dad is craving meat. $3.25 for a dinner plate of that with an additional bbq'd beef on a stick.

One beer, a few pages in my book, and I knock out.

Day 9: Tikal and Miguel

10.19.2012

Tikal ruins are super duper tall.
The view from Templo IV is quite a sight, with the tallest temples sticking their their heads out amongst the gigantic tropical trees. All you can see from there are lush greens, tips of temple tops, and the horizon. What a view.
Magnificent place really, but I cannot help but think of how amazing nature is, over any artificial creation. The ruins had to be dug up from under the soil, leaves, and trees that covered the structures. Some are still kept without being touched, and all that's visible are unnatural looking hills covered by awkwardly grown trees, sprouting diagonally towards the sky. Ah, the life force!

We meet Junko Tokushima, a sweet lady from Osaka, traveling solo. My father sits with her throughout the 2-hour bus ride back to Flores. I'm happy he is able to communicate with someone other than me. We both find relief from Junko's sudden appearance.

As promised the day before, now accompanied by Junko, we meet Miguel at the closest dock to take a 30 minute boat ride and watch the sun setting from within the lake.
The photos will explain how beautiful this ride was, but more beautiful was Miguel's aura. So tender, so smiley, all the while holding his sick 5 year-old son with the utmost care. His eyes, looking at his poor kid, were so dear.
I almost teared up saying "bye," as he left us at a dock closer to where all the restaurants were. How is it that I, who's so used to saying "hi, bye, see you again," can be so sad about parting with a 30-minute encounter?

How many people like Miguel are out there in this world? Not that I really need to know numbers nor to actually meet them all, but I feel like I'm a better person after encountering Miguel. There are great, diligent, smiley people hard at work in this world; living and taking good care of their children.

I miss Miguel.
I want to see him again.
Maybe next time, I will know what being a father is like.

Day 8: to Flores

10.18.2012

6am pick-up for our long road to Flores, Guatemala. Under the darkened blue sky, waiting for the sun to show itself from behind the jungle, the sleepy town starts its wake too. The young receptionist is there again lying on the couch across the desk. He wakes to take our keys and smiles his calm smile, "hasta luego".

The ticketing system for cheap border-crossing-transportation is the same here as that of SE Asia; the destination and paid amount handwritten on a 5x8 inch paper receipt, with the company letterhead and serial number in print.

A large white van takes us to the border of Mexico-Guatemala, where awaits a huge river about 100 meters wide. We stroll across the river on a lanky motored boat that carries about a dozen people.
A small, rusty bus takes us for an hour or so through thin and bumpy roads as we pass by local villages comprised of wooden huts with thatched roofing.
Then we're transferred onto another white van that takes us to the immigrations office and beyond, to our destination Flores. A 9.5-hour ordeal on 1 receipt using 4 vehicles, for the flat rate of $30 per person. We show the receipt at every transferring of vehicles, but there's no showing of ID's. I don't know how they do it exactly, but all the parties involved must get paid somehow...I want to know so badly how the communication/transactions take place (some of it is international!).

30 minutes prior to our long-awaited arrival to Flores, a short man in his mid thirties gets picked up off the street and hops on our van with just a small backpack. He perches himself right behind the passenger side, faces us and asks us all "duu youuu a-speeeek ingliiish?" We all nod and he goes about carefully explaining the details of Flores and how to get to its main attraction, Tikal. Although his English is quite annoying, overly enunciating all his "rrrrrr"s, it's really helpful information to a foreigner. He ends his long and thoughtful monologue, we're pleased with the info, and then his real job starts.
"Who has their hotel booked? Anyone need an ATM? Who needs a ticket for a bus to Tikal? Where are you planning to go next?"
Makes sense, he's from a travel agency. Smart way to rake in the customers during slow season.
Not only is he smart, he is aggressive. As the bus makes a stop at the ATM, he comes around to all of us asking about our plans. It's our turn now, and without agreement he starts writing out receipts for our bus to Tikal the next day. We keep looking back at our travel books asking him questions, trying to avoid decision-making until we actually get to Flores, but no use. In no time, we find in our hands: bus tickets to Tikal, a 2-night stay at a hotel, and bus tickets to our next city. As I finished counting the leftover money, he was already taking more away from the next set of stupid tourists. I felt like we were bulldozed over by a man who knew from the start, that we would fall victim to his years of experience dealing with many types of tourists.

With that said, Flores is one of those places that people dream about. Surrounded by fresh water, it's buildings are all set in colorful pastel, roads made of cobblestone, there's a hill in the center that houses the central park and cathedral, wooden docks with small boats all around, the water warm enough to casually dive in (day and night), lakeside restaurants and bars galore. All within a small island that can be walked full-circle in 15 minutes. My honeymoon is pretty much set :)
I just need to find a wife.

At night there are high school teens and couples hanging out on the docks, spending a lazy and dreamy time looking out towards the lake and the starlit sky. I wondered for the first time how life would have been being brought up in such a romantic place. Would I have traded my teenage years in California for all this? Sports? Taiko? Proms? Friends? Girls?
If I were to be able to give an answer, it'd only be because I had already experienced being a teen. I decided to keep building upon my imagination.

Sadly, I lose my sturdy Leatherman flashlight that I received as a birthday present from my Dad close to 7 years ago. I walk around he whole island looking for it with my flashlight App but alas, it is gone...sorry Dad, and thank you for the 7 years, Flashlight.

Day 7: Misol-Ha and Agua Azul

10.17.2012

I love water. Much more exciting to see moving water and what the rivers and waterfalls have created over thousands of years, as compared to no longer useful manmade ruins (other than for tourism). They're alive, forever changing, natural, flowy, and plain beautiful.

The many waterfalls and stair-like levels of blue potholes at Agua Azul made me want to come back again; swimming, climbing, exploring, exhausting myself until nightfall. Everyday I'd come back to my dwelling, have a beer, pass out, and repeat the whole process for a week.
There, for the few hours at Agua Azul, I returned to being a 7 year-old.

Getting there and back, we were on the same micro-bus as the family that sat in the very front of our Oaxaca-Palenque bus from 2 days ago. Holding a calm and charming little 9 month-old, the couple was friendly and taught us many things about Mexico and their home, Oaxaca. I'm starting to like packaged tours. You're stuck together for hours, but that forced time allows some memorable friendships to form.

I also realized that a baby, has SUPER magical powers. In a group setting, it acts as an international hub of positive energy. Through it, no matter how old or young, whatever language they may speak, people funnel in and share smiles and kindness. Babies may just be the best ice-breaker in the world...along with cute dogs.

Day 6: Palenque

10.16.2012

8am we arrive via overnight bus to the town of Palenque. Check in at a cheap yet tidy hotel with a young, handsome receptionist who has a very laid back aura about him.

The Palenque ruins are different compared to those seen before, mainly because of its tropical weather. There's something really jungly about the setting, and it makes the approach to the ruins that much more exciting.
A river (or a few rivers) run through the whole of the park, and I realize that I enjoy bodies of water more than any other geographic or artificial creation. The path down to the museum along the flowing river pleased me more than anything here.

Back into town, Dad wants coffee, but not just normal coffee, he wants "GOOD coffee in a cool place." So we ask around and find a place that makes espressos and spend what seems like a bit of a fortune for good coffee and A/C.

For dinner, tired of tortillas, Dad wants pasta. So by default we choose a touristy restaurant that offers spaghetti and hamburgers for 2.5 times the price of local food. Dad learns his lesson to not order pasta around here, the noodles are overcooked and he leaves the place dissatisfied with both the taste and damage done to our wallets.

Back in our humid room with laundry hanging on every protruding object from the wall, I calculate our spendings up until now. About 33% more than what we had hoped for.
We look back at the days and realize that what we think we NEED are actually just WANTS. We're being luxurious beyond necessary. We decide on a coffee a day for Dad, a beer a day for me, and to try and hold back on any cravings for particular food; especially if they're expensive.

I take a quick walk to refresh myself from all that math, and see the receptionist again, sitting on his comfy couch, blankly looking out into the street with a grin. He seems so satisfied with life just sitting there...
He notices me, smiles, bids me buenas noches, and goes back to being entertained by the street, its passerby's, lights, and noise...

Buenas noches :)

Day 5: bubai Oaxaca

10.15.2012

A lazy day with our only task to get on the overnight bus by 5 pm.

We eat soup for breakfast, as Dad had been craving it ever since he got a glimpse of people devouring it the morning before. I let him decide on the counter of choice and we're served beef-intestine soup...along with liver, and chewy, colorful pieces of I don't know what. Was alright at first, but after a huge bowl of mushy, chewy, slimy stuff, I started feeling a bit sick. I think Dad was expecting chicken soup...I promised myself that I'll make sure and help by always asking what he wants :P

We take a cafe recommendation offered to us by a friend on FB (how useful it is while traveling!), and end up on the other side of town which we hadn't stepped foot in. It was way more colorful than "our side" and seems to have hip stores and eateries. What a waste! All this time we'd just been roaming around our hotel vicinity without knowing what more Oaxaca had to offer...Nah, I like our surrounding neighborhood; there's no end if we start being greedy about our experiences.

For the next few hours we walk north, up the hill to see the town from above. We pass by an elementary school with kids running around in uniform, printers, local groceries, and get a glimpse of Oaxaca not really meant for tourists. I find this to be the funnest time here.

Would Definitely like to come here again :)

Day 4: Monte Alban Ruins

10.14.2012

Fiesta time the night before? The music and laughter was bumping so loudly next door that I was kept in a state of half sleep/awake until I remember my phone showing 3:30am.
Still, I manage to wake up at a decent time and we head out to the themed arcade markets of Oaxaca. First stop, FOOD, since Dad can't function well when he's hungry...and boy does he get hungry. I must say his metabolism is amazing for a 62 year-old.

The arcade is huge. The restaurants are set up like an open kitchen bar-counter, the popular places have their seats filled up with barely any elbow room for the eater. We are entertained by the liveliness here and I think Dad forgets his hunger for a moment trying to capture all this on film (SD card, he's not that old).
With much contemplation, we decide to eat at a counter that's not overly crowded, but what seems to have a reputable cook. We order coffee, and it comes in a soup-bowl with a huge roll of bread that's semi-sweet and super dry. The coffee has a bit of cardamom in it. The bread and coffee both disagree with my taste. BUT, when the dryness and sweet aftertaste is washed down with the coffee, somehow the combination makes much more sense and I can see myself getting addicted.
All the cooks/servers here are women. And they work hard. With limited gas stoves and a heck load of pots and pans, they take orders, pour coffee, sauté meat and eggs, cut up vegetables, and even give you your change. There's something very attractive about people that work hard and well. The simplicity and speed of movement they've attained shows years of experience, and I wonder to myself if I'll ever be able to play taiko like that.
I order the best mole chicken that I've had thus far in my life, and we leave the place content.

After a random vest purchase made by Dad at the artisans' market, we agree suddenly to head towards the local ruins, Monte Alban. We look for the office that the books explain is the departure point for shuttle buses bound for the ruins. As we reach the proximity, a street vendor selling fruit juice grabs our attention and points towards the ticket office located right next to her stand. Such a nice smile, this lady.
We purchase our bus ticket. A one hour wait, Dad wants another cup of coffee, so we ask the juice lady where we can find a cafe. She compliments my Spanish and points us down the street. The cafe is closed, so we decide to take a stroll around the block. No luck with coffee this time, and we head back to wait it out on the benches of the ticket office. I ask the juice lady where I can buy a coke and water, and she again kindly guides me to the cheap corner shop.
The bus to Monte Alban arrives on time (as is the case for all buses in Mexico), and as I bid my farewell to the juice lady, I realize that she's selling FRESH JUICE, and she never bothered to try and sell us any of it. Come to think of it, we should've gotten fresh juice instead of coke...how unselfish of her.

The Monte Alban ruins are situated on top of mountain, hence the name Monte(?), and although not on the same grand scale as Teotihuacan, the view of Oaxaca from such great height made everything spectacular.

"Amazing, but how inefficient was this location?" I thought to myself. It took us 30 minutes of a winding, uphill bus-ride to get to this place. How'd they haul all that stone to build the pyramids here? And food? Water? It must've been a huge strain on the common folk.
Thoughts of one of my favorite childhood movies flashed back in my mind, "Castle in the Sky, Laputa," by Miyazaki. I remember the heroine in the movie, still a young girl who was a descendant of the sky-people, making a statement to the villain, "humans can't live without their feet touching on earth. No matter how powerful and advanced our people became, they finally understood the need to be grounded and the importance of spreading roots in the soil. That's why they deserted this castle and came back down to earth." I'm sure there are many theories out there as to how the people of Teotihuacan, Monte Alban, and even Machu Piccu disappeared, but I felt like I understood why... Newfound respect for Miyazaki and what it is he teaches us through movies.
Although there may have been extravagant and glorious years for the civilizations that existed here, nothing lasts with an unbalanced strain on the land and people.
And now, we are left with grand tourist sights that are definitely something to awe at. But maybe more importantly, we must learn to work hard and enjoy our average and peaceful daily lives. There's beauty in it, just like the woman that cooked up our breakfast with such grace this morning.

Dinner time, we make good use of our terrace by purchasing street-vendor food to-go. Tacos, clayudas, and charcoal-grilled corn on the cob with mayo, powdered cheese, and chili-powder.
Beer.

Yum.

Day 3: to Oaxaca

10.13.2012

7-hour bus ride to Oaxaca reminds me of how slowly time passes when you just sit.
I read, listen to music, watch the setting sun, and snack on my 5 tacos purchased for 20 pesos...

9pm, we arrive at the Oaxaca bus terminal, and from the looks of the place and people, it seems like a cute city with buildings, churches and statues that are left intact from colonial times.
We find a very cheap hotel in pastel pink with no electrical outlets, no hot water (sucks for Dad) but a nice terrace that gives us a view of the surrounding mountains and the densely packed building rooftops.
As we unpack our bags, I realize that some of my zippers are halfway opened in my hiker's backpack. Hrm. Then realize that some straps are loose...
"Oh #%*@!!!!"
I quickly open the compartment that holds my iPad and surely enough, it's gone.

3 days into the trip, everything seemed so promising, and BAM, it's gone. All my hopes for an exciting and memorable trip, lost in an instant. "Why, why, why???"
After being frozen in shock for 3 minutes, I gather myself and send an apology to the family who gifted me the useful device. More than anything, I felt like crap for not taking good enough care of their kindness. I take a smoke, pick myself up, and we walk to the city center to try and feed our hungry stomachs.

Similar to the Coyoacan park in Mexico City, Oaxaca's people (and tourists) gather at the central park at night to chill. With such liveliness as our backdrop, we eat at a rather expensive looking outdoor restaurant. Dad tries to lift me up by allowing this, and even suggests that we get beer. And so, we dine in luxurious atmosphere over local beer, and for a moment I am able to forget about my loss.
Halfway through our meal I get a response from the gifters of the lost iPad.
"guess someone needed it more than you did. Stay safe!"
Talk about the right things to say, I almost teared up being reminded of how giving and thoughtful some people are.
Yes, maybe the thief will put it to better use than I. Maybe he has a sick child at home that he can't pay medical expenses for. I can live without an iPad for now, and won't waste my time moping over something that won't come back to me.

3 days into the trip. Had a huge loss, but I'm alive and well
I can still go on :)


To the Jones Family, thank you.

Day 2: Teotihuacan

10.12.2012

With not enough sleep and a huge Mexican breakfast with eggs, we are on our way to Teotihuacan by Metro and bus.

I'm sure knowing a bit of the language helps, but the Metro here is by far the easiest to understand compared to any other city that I have been to (even Tokyo, which I know pretty well). Such easiness shows thoughtfulness to me. When a foreigner can come in and understand where they are, know which train to take, and get off at their desired destination without hesitation nor having to ask around, it is a thoughtful place.

With no problems or delays (here all buses depart and arrive on time), we arrive at Teotihuacan.
Although the history of the place more interesting to me than the ruin itself, it is nonetheless a grand site.
On top of the Moon Temple, where the view of the Sun Temple marvelous, Dad starts tearing up. Although I ain't such a huge fan of ruins, this trip has been already worth it for me.

At night, I meet up with Nahoko (introduced by my brother-in-law via Facebook) and her boyfriend Victor, in the lively Coyoacan area.
Nahoko plays taiko in Mexico City and we enjoy listening to our past along with what hopes we have for the future. Communication was done with a weird combination of 3 languages, English, Japanese, and Spanish...mostly Japanese. Sorry Victor. This was a first for me.
The two treat my beers, finger food, and even pay for my taxi ride back with their trusted driver. We make promises to meet again in LA next summer. Gracias Nahoko y Victor :)

I love Mexico so far.

Day 1: Mexico City

10.11.2012

Guess it all starts at the port of departure, this time LAX. Flight to Mexico City is delayed, making our arrival into the city at around midnight. Due to our recent busy-ness and a possibly cocky attitude from our experience in SE Asia, we thought, "things should be fine..." but when imagining our late arrival, I finally start feeling a bit scared.

The United flight attendants are all from the US with knowledge of simple Spanish vocabulary. I chuckle to myself as one of the attendants asks Dad, "leche?" while serving him coffee. To her defense, people have told us that he looks Mexican, and he looked identical to the Mexican gentleman sitting next to him. She must've thought that they were brothers. It was a funny moment.

Mexico airport is super clean! And we had no trouble getting a taxi into the city. Since I made a huge booboo in booking a hotel way out of the way, we decide to test our luck by going straight into the city center for cheap hotels.

We arrive at the Zocalo area at 1am to find that all doors are shut and the streets are dead silent except for construction workers digging up a huge hole. Troubled for directions to the cheapy hotel listed in our books, we ask a police officer sitting in his car for help. For the next 30 minutes, he, along with 2 other officers walk and follow us in their police cars until we find the location of choice. I told them "La policia en Mexico son muy simpaticos (Mexican police are really nice)," the officer gave an embarrassed smile and walked on.

Dad and I settle in, purchase a beer for 20 pesos and call it a good start to our trip.
My Spanish is working amazingly well too :)

Before falling a sleep, I write in my journal, "yudan wa kinnmotsu," which simply means, "don't get cocky."
An easy start, but I still have to be careful.

3162 Central and South America

A bit more discreet than the last, my father (Toshi) and I will depart today from LAX to start our 8-week travel throughout Central and South America.

First stop, Mexico City.
Loosely planned, what follows will include Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Peru, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay(?), Brazil, Puerto Rico, then finally back to LA.

If you've heard me talk about this 2nd trip before, you'll notice that a whole continent (Africa) has been omitted from the itinerary.  Based on the last experience throughout Asia, along with budget concerns, we decided it'd be best to spend more time in each city/town rather than covering more kilos.

Similar to Project3162:Asia, the main concern of the trip will be ruins and UNESCO World Heritage sights.
My goal For the next 8 weeks:

• be more thoughtful of dad, and truly cherish every moment with him
• Keep up with my blog (last time was a major FAIL)

Thank you Mom for being so supportive of our travels.
Thank you to all my close friends who have given me courage and kind words.  I stil have the SD cards that you lent to me at the beginning of the year, will send them filled with photos from both trips.

Wish us luck with my 6 years of grade-school Spanish :)

Adios!