South America...Great!!! We got on a boat at the Guayaquil yacht club and skimmed the surface of the Pacific Ocean for 2 hours. We arrived at our destination and pulled up to a small deck leading to an island dedicated to Biocentinela's shrimping. What an interesting place! To give you an idea of what the last month has been for us here are some buenos y malos (highs and lows).
Smelling the ocean air as our boat captain navigated through mangrove pathways, destination Jontec Island...bueno. Weeks later getting stuck in the mud and having to wait in the ocean for 45 minutes on a wooden boat until the tide rose was not comforting...malo.
Choclo con queso fresco, so delicious on a cold morning when you're excited to try new things...bueno. Queso fresco three days in a row and nothing with flavor to help you choke it down...malo.
Three large meals a day in the company of the nicest people you would want to be stuck on an island with...bueno. Large portions of rice three times a day...with queso fresco on top for a treat...malo.
Watching everyone communicate with three deaf guys even though no one knows proper sign languauge. Some how they could all understand each other and everything worked beautifully...bueno.
Being married and spending mornings rowing with my spouse on serene lakes feeding shrimp, listening to egrets and basking in the sun...que bueno. Tasting the microorganisms that the shrimp get....whoa, malo.
Watching B rated movies after dinner dubbed over really badly in Spanish, then barely being able to keep our eyes open before dragging ourselves to bed around 7:45 p.m., priceless and oh so bueno. Being awaken from wonderful dream filled sleep at 4 a.m. by cross bred rooster chicken birds...malo.
Mateo becoming a top notch futbol goalie and helping his team win two days in a row, he was never scored on...bueno
Fishing for shrimp at midnight until almost sunrise was a first for both of us. It was dark, cold and a lot of work...bueno. Preparing the drained lakes for new crops of shrimp is dirty work. We walked through mud above our knees throwing lime and bokashi (a japanese organic mixture for the bottom of the lake). Good process (organic) but thick stinky mud...malo.
Getting our feet sliced up by sea shells. If you've never done it you might not know that shells are like razor blades and if you step on them with no shoes they cut your feet like butter. The worst is trying to sleep because they sting for days. I only had a few but both of Mateo's feet were sliced to pieces...malo
It was overall really really good. Eat organic shrimp if you get a chance, it's great! We left the farm and stayed in Guayaquil at the company house for a couple days before making our way back to Quito...
So what did we do when we got to Quito? We walked for an hour in the dark at 5 a.m., since we couldn't get on the local bus with our big backpacks, found our hostel and prepared ourselves for home. That's right...after 9 months of adventure our next destination was set for The United States...and we're BACK! Maybe we'll be in a city near you soon!
We want to thank everyone for travelling with us. We can't tell you how much it meant to us to have your presence. You really helped pull us through some tough times. We can't wait to see you all and hear what you have been up to. We are still working on elements from the trip so keep checking back for updated pictures through the end of our trip. New photos should be up in the next week or so. We will continue to use the blog for future travel and updates on some of the projects we plan to continue to support so don't throw away the address. Again, thank you so much and we should see you soon.
salaam
Mateo and Joronda
15 June 2006
09 May 2006
fried shrimp, baked shrimp, boiled shrimp...
Well we went to that volcano and here's the scoop. Three thousand years ago this volcano imploded and all the snow that was on it at the time created a lake. Now it's a tourist spot where you can take a boat or kayak in the crater of the volcano. We went out on a boat and learned a bit. Seeing the cool sulfur bubbling in the crayon blue water was a bit unsettling as we stopped to listen to our monotone guide give us information about why the rocks are yellow and how the three mountainous islands in the middle of the lake are actually lava mounds. It was interesting and erie. We got out of the boat and started out on a 4 hour hike around the rim of the volcano. Beautiful!Early into the hike I was shaken by a few people's warnings of armed bandits robbing tourist so I stopped about an hour in. I sat on a bench where I had a beautiful decending view into the crater. I have had enough close calls on this trip and I didn't feel like walking down a volcano shoeless as supposedly 4 French tourist were forced to. Mateo went on a bit further with a few travel buddies and I sat there for a little over an hour eating fruit and watching the clouds roll up and down the crater. It was really serene until I heard what sounded like horses galloping over rocks. It was Mateo getting a good workout. He came flying past me in his flip flops looking very energetic.
We were travelling with a couple from New York and they went on and made the hike. Four hours later they returned to us very wet, freezing cold and saying it was the most horrible experience of their lives. They didn't get robbed though.
This morning we parted from our friends and headed back below the equator. We had been waiting a few days to decide our direction. It was between a medicinal forest with an Ecuadorian shaman or an organic shrimp farm on an island in the gulf of Guayaquil. Even though I don't swim very well Mateo and I will board a shrimp boat at 7 o'clock in the morning for a two hour ride to Isla Puna. If you want to check out our whereabouts go to www.biocentinela.com.
There will be no internet when we get there so it may be a while before you here from us. That seems to be the way of the simple life...
Ciao
Joronda
We were travelling with a couple from New York and they went on and made the hike. Four hours later they returned to us very wet, freezing cold and saying it was the most horrible experience of their lives. They didn't get robbed though.
This morning we parted from our friends and headed back below the equator. We had been waiting a few days to decide our direction. It was between a medicinal forest with an Ecuadorian shaman or an organic shrimp farm on an island in the gulf of Guayaquil. Even though I don't swim very well Mateo and I will board a shrimp boat at 7 o'clock in the morning for a two hour ride to Isla Puna. If you want to check out our whereabouts go to www.biocentinela.com.
There will be no internet when we get there so it may be a while before you here from us. That seems to be the way of the simple life...
Ciao
Joronda
more new photos!!!
salaam
6 new photo albums have been uploaded! for the best experience, view the slideshow of each album.
enjoy!
salaam
mateo
6 new photo albums have been uploaded! for the best experience, view the slideshow of each album.
enjoy!
salaam
mateo
06 May 2006
Walking on Clouds
Thanks you all for your suggestions and sympathy regarding our chicken head situation. I should just let you know that the following day we sat down to chicken feet soup and although equally alarming it was quite tasty...
For the last couple of weeks we have been living in a cloud forest picking coffee, planting pineapples and waking up at 6 am to extremely loud cumbia music. The cloud forest situation is both weird and amazing. We can sit in the kitchen and watch the clouds drift through the glassless window and out the back door. Sometimes we can´t see anything past the house as we head out to the fields through moist grass with our Ecuadorian made rubber boots on and tools over our shoulders. The work is really strenuous and my hands literally have callouses on top of callouses.
We would have communicated earlier but getting to internet is 50 miles away. It´s a four hour bus ride through what looks like scenes in Jurassic Park or a ride at Universal Studios. Cascading water rushes off the side of the mountain and like pouring rain pounds the roof and windows of one side of the bus. The leaves are so large they look prehistoric and farmers stand up straight to stare at the bus as it squeaks past their mountain side "campos".
Today we made the journey into town and the trip turned into an adventure. Everyday it rains and the roads get soft and difficult to navigate. Our bus slid into a ditch and got wedged into a mud trench pressed against the mountain. No problem though because that´s why the bus has passengers. The assistant conductor crawled under the bus and attached a rope somewhere and everyone grabbed a piece and pulled. Never mind the fact that Mateo was wearing flip flops, he just kicked them to the side of the road, turned his unbiforcated travel garmet into waders and pulled with the crew. The pulling, turned into trench digging and this went on for 2 hours. When the bus finally did get out we all had to run up the road as fast as we could before the bus ran us over. We couldn´t expect the bus to stop for any slackers because it might get stuck again. Oh yeah I left out one part. Once the bus was out of the ditch I was looking for Mateo and found him way up in a tree with the assistant conductor trying to knock the tree down because it had been growing there for years but was now a problem. With no knocking down sort of tools they used the only thing they could, shear weight...and well, I couldn´t really get a snapshot of the little asst. conductors body flying into the shoeless Mateo and two guys I couldn´t even see from the road jumping out of the jungle vines but I will not forget the sight anytime soon. What a team effort!
So at the end of the race, everyone climbed back on the bus at the top of the hill and we road into town like it was just a regular bus ride. Now we´re in Otavalo planning on getting some good rest tonight before we go hike a volcano tomorrow...
Joronda
For the last couple of weeks we have been living in a cloud forest picking coffee, planting pineapples and waking up at 6 am to extremely loud cumbia music. The cloud forest situation is both weird and amazing. We can sit in the kitchen and watch the clouds drift through the glassless window and out the back door. Sometimes we can´t see anything past the house as we head out to the fields through moist grass with our Ecuadorian made rubber boots on and tools over our shoulders. The work is really strenuous and my hands literally have callouses on top of callouses.
We would have communicated earlier but getting to internet is 50 miles away. It´s a four hour bus ride through what looks like scenes in Jurassic Park or a ride at Universal Studios. Cascading water rushes off the side of the mountain and like pouring rain pounds the roof and windows of one side of the bus. The leaves are so large they look prehistoric and farmers stand up straight to stare at the bus as it squeaks past their mountain side "campos".
Today we made the journey into town and the trip turned into an adventure. Everyday it rains and the roads get soft and difficult to navigate. Our bus slid into a ditch and got wedged into a mud trench pressed against the mountain. No problem though because that´s why the bus has passengers. The assistant conductor crawled under the bus and attached a rope somewhere and everyone grabbed a piece and pulled. Never mind the fact that Mateo was wearing flip flops, he just kicked them to the side of the road, turned his unbiforcated travel garmet into waders and pulled with the crew. The pulling, turned into trench digging and this went on for 2 hours. When the bus finally did get out we all had to run up the road as fast as we could before the bus ran us over. We couldn´t expect the bus to stop for any slackers because it might get stuck again. Oh yeah I left out one part. Once the bus was out of the ditch I was looking for Mateo and found him way up in a tree with the assistant conductor trying to knock the tree down because it had been growing there for years but was now a problem. With no knocking down sort of tools they used the only thing they could, shear weight...and well, I couldn´t really get a snapshot of the little asst. conductors body flying into the shoeless Mateo and two guys I couldn´t even see from the road jumping out of the jungle vines but I will not forget the sight anytime soon. What a team effort!
So at the end of the race, everyone climbed back on the bus at the top of the hill and we road into town like it was just a regular bus ride. Now we´re in Otavalo planning on getting some good rest tonight before we go hike a volcano tomorrow...
Joronda
20 April 2006
chicken head soup
62 hours by bus and we're in Quito, Ecuador. Not a bad trip since we were able to see the variety of flora and fauna this botanical garden of South America has to offer. I can't say so much for the driving though. Every bus was skidding and sliding around corners, breaking through thick cloud covering and stopping frequently for snack carrying road vendors. We spent most of the time looking out over huge cliff drops and sliding back and forth in our seats trying to get comfortable. It seems like both Peru and Ecuador are lands made of just mountains. We spent so much time travelling through the Andeas I kept wondering if any part of these countries have flat land.
We didn't get much sleep so we are resting for a few days before jumping into our next volunteer opportunity. We are taking in Ecuador even though it feels weird to be using U.S. currency again. It's a good thing the prices aren't the same. We had dinner last night for a dollar a piece and there were firsts and seconds. It was a good meal but when I discovered there was what appeared to be a chicken head in my soup I kept using my spoon to cover it with more juice. Every once in a while the head would turn up and I would see an eye looking up at me. I thought I must have just gotten a special batch but it turns out that was the soup of the day. Mateo ate the soup but not the chicken but I went for it. I can't say I would do it again. Not that it wasn't tasty, I'm just still trying to get over the chicken thing.
So tommorrow it's off to Otavalo where we'll get on another bumpy bus for a quick 4 hour trip to our pueblo.
Joronda
We didn't get much sleep so we are resting for a few days before jumping into our next volunteer opportunity. We are taking in Ecuador even though it feels weird to be using U.S. currency again. It's a good thing the prices aren't the same. We had dinner last night for a dollar a piece and there were firsts and seconds. It was a good meal but when I discovered there was what appeared to be a chicken head in my soup I kept using my spoon to cover it with more juice. Every once in a while the head would turn up and I would see an eye looking up at me. I thought I must have just gotten a special batch but it turns out that was the soup of the day. Mateo ate the soup but not the chicken but I went for it. I can't say I would do it again. Not that it wasn't tasty, I'm just still trying to get over the chicken thing.
So tommorrow it's off to Otavalo where we'll get on another bumpy bus for a quick 4 hour trip to our pueblo.
Joronda
16 April 2006
Machupicchu
It's cold and rainy today and we're feeling the after effects of a hard day on the Inca trail. We left our hostel three days ago in search of a glimpse of the lost Inca city. Arriving in Cusco was impressive. The city is planned in the shape of a puma, the animal most sacred to the Inca's. From Cusco we jumped on a small local bus to Urubamba about and hour or so up the mountain. We were the only foreign tourist on the bus but we were told going this route would be more rewarding. In Urubamba I noticed most of the houses had crosses with two bulls flanking the symbol. I had no idea what this meant but I knew we were getting closer to Machupicchu.
From Urubamba we climbed into a 10 seater colectivo where a number of passengers were already waiting. I have found that I enjoy the way people take public transportation in other countries. Our colectivo was packed but four people waiting on the side of the road in the middle of an agricultural district climbed right on in and with one man on Mateo's lap and another right in my face we found a way to slide the door closed and chug further up the mountain to Ollantaytambo. No one left behind.
Peru is beautiful! The colors across the land make it look like a patchwork quilt and the dialects and clothing are so vibrant. It's a culture I don't believe I have ever been privileged to. In Ollantaytambo we bought our way overpriced tickets to Agua Calientes (AC), the Machupicchu pueblo. With 3 hours to spare we sat in the town square ate choclo con queso (huge corn and cheese) and watched tourist try to sneak pictures of the Inca Trail porters who were wearing traditional Peruvian garments.
2 hours after leaving Ollantaytambo we made it to AC and settled in for the night. At 5 am the adventure began. In the dark on the previous night the shadow of the mountain was a bit intimidating and at 5 am the dark was still looming. We bought our tickets and began the 5km walk straight up. We met a large group of Semana Santa worshippers who were walking in a candle light vigil carrying a huge cross. With a few days until Easter there's a lot of re-enactments of the Passion in this area. We broke through the crowd and met a raging river and a stone staircase with a small sign reading " a Maccupicchu" to Macchupicchu.
The sounds, smells, temperature and feeling in my chest were all incredible. At over 11'000 ft elevation the clouds are just right on your shoulder. Some of it must have been in my chest too because I was sucking so much air I was finding it hard to believe I was once an athlete. Surprisingly we passed other mountain goers and one poor guy was really on the brink of giving up saying a very loud "NEVER AGAIN". Mateo was dripping with sweat but passing people no less and calling back for me every once in a while. I was there but, my goodness...
At the top sweet victory and when we walked passed the control tower into this unbelieveable pristine lost civilization I didn't want to leave. Can you believe the Spanish missed this huge community on their conquest. It's a good thing they did and it's a good thing the Inca knew how to keep a secret. Only in 1911 was it discovered, centuries later.
The morning sunrise is a great time to get there. Very few group tours are there and watching the clouds reveal and cover the city minute after minute is like opening a present and then closing it to open it again with the same pleasantly surprised look on your face. I could have stayed up there for days. Well we did stay for 12 hours and went even higher to a point that looks down on the ruin. That is a story in itself. Let's just say we came down on our hands and butts. What a site.
So that was Machupicchu for us. The rustic route. Now it's off to Ecuador. We probably won't have contact for a few days but stay tuned to see where we make it to. Our destination is a small village east of Otavalo, just outside of Quito. Talk to you soon.
Joronda
From Urubamba we climbed into a 10 seater colectivo where a number of passengers were already waiting. I have found that I enjoy the way people take public transportation in other countries. Our colectivo was packed but four people waiting on the side of the road in the middle of an agricultural district climbed right on in and with one man on Mateo's lap and another right in my face we found a way to slide the door closed and chug further up the mountain to Ollantaytambo. No one left behind.
Peru is beautiful! The colors across the land make it look like a patchwork quilt and the dialects and clothing are so vibrant. It's a culture I don't believe I have ever been privileged to. In Ollantaytambo we bought our way overpriced tickets to Agua Calientes (AC), the Machupicchu pueblo. With 3 hours to spare we sat in the town square ate choclo con queso (huge corn and cheese) and watched tourist try to sneak pictures of the Inca Trail porters who were wearing traditional Peruvian garments.
2 hours after leaving Ollantaytambo we made it to AC and settled in for the night. At 5 am the adventure began. In the dark on the previous night the shadow of the mountain was a bit intimidating and at 5 am the dark was still looming. We bought our tickets and began the 5km walk straight up. We met a large group of Semana Santa worshippers who were walking in a candle light vigil carrying a huge cross. With a few days until Easter there's a lot of re-enactments of the Passion in this area. We broke through the crowd and met a raging river and a stone staircase with a small sign reading " a Maccupicchu" to Macchupicchu.
The sounds, smells, temperature and feeling in my chest were all incredible. At over 11'000 ft elevation the clouds are just right on your shoulder. Some of it must have been in my chest too because I was sucking so much air I was finding it hard to believe I was once an athlete. Surprisingly we passed other mountain goers and one poor guy was really on the brink of giving up saying a very loud "NEVER AGAIN". Mateo was dripping with sweat but passing people no less and calling back for me every once in a while. I was there but, my goodness...
At the top sweet victory and when we walked passed the control tower into this unbelieveable pristine lost civilization I didn't want to leave. Can you believe the Spanish missed this huge community on their conquest. It's a good thing they did and it's a good thing the Inca knew how to keep a secret. Only in 1911 was it discovered, centuries later.
The morning sunrise is a great time to get there. Very few group tours are there and watching the clouds reveal and cover the city minute after minute is like opening a present and then closing it to open it again with the same pleasantly surprised look on your face. I could have stayed up there for days. Well we did stay for 12 hours and went even higher to a point that looks down on the ruin. That is a story in itself. Let's just say we came down on our hands and butts. What a site.
So that was Machupicchu for us. The rustic route. Now it's off to Ecuador. We probably won't have contact for a few days but stay tuned to see where we make it to. Our destination is a small village east of Otavalo, just outside of Quito. Talk to you soon.
Joronda
15 April 2006
more new pictures
salaam
4 more albums have been added, including one that was missing from viet nam (9), and the infamous shaolin pics.
enjoy.
salaam
mateo
p.s. machupicchu was nuts, but more on that later...they're closing the lab down.
4 more albums have been added, including one that was missing from viet nam (9), and the infamous shaolin pics.
enjoy.
salaam
mateo
p.s. machupicchu was nuts, but more on that later...they're closing the lab down.
10 April 2006
NEW PHOTOS FINALLY!!!!
8 new albums have been uploaded to the photo section. We know we´re really behind but please bear with us... as we have some 2600 photos to upload. If you would like to refresh your memory of the stories then check the photos and reread the post for those countries.
Thanks for being patient.
Mateo and Joronda
Thanks for being patient.
Mateo and Joronda
Soaring to new heights
Mateo and I both have our issues with heights so why are we trying to figure out how to climb the largest sand dune in the world and somewhat ski-surf down it. Sandboarding is a popular sport in Southern Peru and with the number of dunes around here there are plenty of places to practice. Cerro Blanco is where we´re trying to learn.
We arrived in Nazca last night after a 9 hour bus ride through the ever changing Peruvian land. The bus was extremely packed at times and when it shut off once all the men got off and started pushing. We weren´t sure what was happening but when the push driver routinely put it in gear we just shrugged and said great we´re on our way. Had Mateo figured out what was going on he would have been at the back of the Ormeño bus with the rest of the passengers getting us down the highway.
When we walked through the city of Nazca today, we could see the height and mass of the sand and it is too impressive. Nazca itself is just impressive with the 2000 year old drawings in the sands. We could get a private plane and soar over the Nazca Lines but I don´t know about that. Maybe we´ll have to come back with one of you and do that.
As far as sandboarding we´ve got about 5 days to get our nerves together. Our bus for Cusco leaves at midnight and we´ll stay their for two days to acclimatize before we go to Machu Picchu. At 11,000 feet and rising I´m curious to see how our bodies react. Although we wanted to hike the Inca Trail to get the full 4 day experience of reaching the ruins we´ll have to settle for the 1 hour walk to the top of the hill from Agua Calientes. It costs $6 to take a bus from the hostel to the gates of the ruins but I´m sure the Crocodile Hunter will want to wack bushes at 5 o´clock in the morning and show up at sunrise as the lazy tourist step comfortably from their 20 minute lazy ride.
If you have no idea what any of these cities or names are check out the map on our page. Just click on the moving flag.
Joronda
We arrived in Nazca last night after a 9 hour bus ride through the ever changing Peruvian land. The bus was extremely packed at times and when it shut off once all the men got off and started pushing. We weren´t sure what was happening but when the push driver routinely put it in gear we just shrugged and said great we´re on our way. Had Mateo figured out what was going on he would have been at the back of the Ormeño bus with the rest of the passengers getting us down the highway.
When we walked through the city of Nazca today, we could see the height and mass of the sand and it is too impressive. Nazca itself is just impressive with the 2000 year old drawings in the sands. We could get a private plane and soar over the Nazca Lines but I don´t know about that. Maybe we´ll have to come back with one of you and do that.
As far as sandboarding we´ve got about 5 days to get our nerves together. Our bus for Cusco leaves at midnight and we´ll stay their for two days to acclimatize before we go to Machu Picchu. At 11,000 feet and rising I´m curious to see how our bodies react. Although we wanted to hike the Inca Trail to get the full 4 day experience of reaching the ruins we´ll have to settle for the 1 hour walk to the top of the hill from Agua Calientes. It costs $6 to take a bus from the hostel to the gates of the ruins but I´m sure the Crocodile Hunter will want to wack bushes at 5 o´clock in the morning and show up at sunrise as the lazy tourist step comfortably from their 20 minute lazy ride.
If you have no idea what any of these cities or names are check out the map on our page. Just click on the moving flag.
Joronda
06 April 2006
Anyone up for Spain?
Hey guess what we did for fun on Sunday night? We all got weighed on a pig scale. It started with the family wanting to know how much Mateo weighs. He eats so much that they just had to know where he was putting it. About two minutes later Francisco walks in with a long silver contraption with ropes hanging from it. One by one we secured ourselves with the ropes and dangled from the chestnut beams in the ceiling of the house. I thought it would only be us youngsters but everyone hoped on. Francisco, Pepe, Isabel their guests and no one was shy to let their weight be told. Pepe beat us all out at 86 Kilos. If you want to do the conversion Mateo is 75 kilos.
We all pitched in to prepare dulces for Mateo the goloso. It was great and after a few hours at the house we headed down into the pueblo to snuggle into our casita until the next days work. Once again it´s sad to leave a place where people are so good and everyday is an adventure. Before we went home you´ll be interested to know that Mateo doubles as the Crocodile Hunter when wild snakes find themselves stuck in tiny holes. I walked outside to see if the sweets were being prepared on some big open flame and found Mateo unwinding a large snake from a hole in the bottom of a propane tank. Everyone one was standing really far back while this snake was gapping his mouth in what seemed like pain and curling it´s tail around Mateo´s hand. Even though he´s not a trained zoologist the Crocodile Hunter knows snakes can´t crawl up their own bodies; and they say don´t try those things at home. Everyday is an adventure.
If you´re interested in doing a bit of hard work in Spain and helping out a great family let us know. There are only three people in the family to do a ton of work and they can really use some good assistance. There are goats to be milked everyday and a host of other things to be taken care of including picking up fresh bread from the panaderia every morning on the way to the farm. I´ll miss that alot. This is another place on our list to return to. Seriously if you´re interested let us know and we´ll give you more details.
So we´re on the road again and we´re off to Peru. At 10:30 p.m. Spainish time we´ll set off on a 13 hour excursion to Lima. Look out America we´re coming home!
Joronda
We all pitched in to prepare dulces for Mateo the goloso. It was great and after a few hours at the house we headed down into the pueblo to snuggle into our casita until the next days work. Once again it´s sad to leave a place where people are so good and everyday is an adventure. Before we went home you´ll be interested to know that Mateo doubles as the Crocodile Hunter when wild snakes find themselves stuck in tiny holes. I walked outside to see if the sweets were being prepared on some big open flame and found Mateo unwinding a large snake from a hole in the bottom of a propane tank. Everyone one was standing really far back while this snake was gapping his mouth in what seemed like pain and curling it´s tail around Mateo´s hand. Even though he´s not a trained zoologist the Crocodile Hunter knows snakes can´t crawl up their own bodies; and they say don´t try those things at home. Everyday is an adventure.
If you´re interested in doing a bit of hard work in Spain and helping out a great family let us know. There are only three people in the family to do a ton of work and they can really use some good assistance. There are goats to be milked everyday and a host of other things to be taken care of including picking up fresh bread from the panaderia every morning on the way to the farm. I´ll miss that alot. This is another place on our list to return to. Seriously if you´re interested let us know and we´ll give you more details.
So we´re on the road again and we´re off to Peru. At 10:30 p.m. Spainish time we´ll set off on a 13 hour excursion to Lima. Look out America we´re coming home!
Joronda
26 March 2006
La Leche
Well Lucy and Ethel are back at it. Make sure you read the previous post before this one.
We are now in Andalucia, Southern Spain in the province of Málaga. Our new home is in Alpandeire and we are working with animals. After only two days the owners left us to milk goats by ourselves.What confidence! When we walked in the first day, Syl´s first comment was the "Simple Life" but you should see her now she can handle four at once
So Lucy and Ethel were down in the pit with the utter suckers while Fred (Mateo) went into the barn to wrestle up the goats. 400 of them. Sometimes he would be in the barn with the door closed then the door would come flying open and Mateo would come storming from one end of the room to the other trying to get the baby´s and keep the males out. We almost milked a male as Mateo tried to hustle him into the stall but Francisco hollered "huevos" so we let him go. Luckily we´re not milking by hand but have you ever tried to attach anything to a goat. We get kicked quite often and the goats scream when they don´t want to come into the milking room. Our clothes are filthy when we leave but we get quite a bit of goat milk.
The pueblo is great and the family we are living with are equally wonderful. For the next couple of weeks we should get pretty good with goats.
Joronda
We are now in Andalucia, Southern Spain in the province of Málaga. Our new home is in Alpandeire and we are working with animals. After only two days the owners left us to milk goats by ourselves.What confidence! When we walked in the first day, Syl´s first comment was the "Simple Life" but you should see her now she can handle four at once
So Lucy and Ethel were down in the pit with the utter suckers while Fred (Mateo) went into the barn to wrestle up the goats. 400 of them. Sometimes he would be in the barn with the door closed then the door would come flying open and Mateo would come storming from one end of the room to the other trying to get the baby´s and keep the males out. We almost milked a male as Mateo tried to hustle him into the stall but Francisco hollered "huevos" so we let him go. Luckily we´re not milking by hand but have you ever tried to attach anything to a goat. We get kicked quite often and the goats scream when they don´t want to come into the milking room. Our clothes are filthy when we leave but we get quite a bit of goat milk.
The pueblo is great and the family we are living with are equally wonderful. For the next couple of weeks we should get pretty good with goats.
Joronda
El Huerto
Wow. Thank you so much to everyone for letting us know you´re out there. Sorry it´s been a good few weeks since we´ve posted. Internet time is scarce. Since we left Barcelona we´ve been living la vida del pueblo and life is good.
We set off for northern Spain to a small pueblo called Aguinaliu. If you look on the map you won´t see it but you will see a small town called Huesca. It´s kind of close to there but muy muy poquito. From the terrace of the house we can see the Pyrenees mountains snow covered and demanding of several glances on a clear day. The air is dry but frigid and the smell of burning wood from a few casitas wafts into our nostrils. Not much is happening in the pueblo because it was abandoned a long time ago. Only 15 people live there and a poster from 1970 indicated that year may have been when people were forced out. There are an unbelievable number of abandoned pueblos in Spain. The house we live in is at the very top of the hill and we have to climb it twice a day to go home for lunch as well as after the days work is done. We live with Mario a Mexican Buddist Carpenter, Lucas a French Briton Fiddler, a 14 year old dog named Mora and a frisky over grown kitty named Huero. We exist off the fruits of labor from el huerto. Very little is bought from the market. Hopefully our work helps to produce more fruit.
On our first day at work Syl and I jumped in a water trough 7 feet deep to scoop out frozen green ¨sardine¨ water. In our rubber water proof boots we scooped for 4 hours. We did break for tea in the garden with Mateo and Lucas. I´m telling you life is good you all. Syl and I sang old school R&B trying to keep warm and forget about the smell. This was part of our first big project to set up drip irrigation for the garden.
Everyday we work in ¨el huerto¨ getting things ready for permament agriculture. Making seed beds, Mateo is built like a Chevy truck so he hauls the majority of dirt out of the earth while Syl and I swat never ending swarms of knats and mosquitos between every few shovels of dirt. We had previously been exiled to the evergreen forest to sing our songs and collect rich soil for planting. Then I opened my mouth and said I wanted hard work to do. A ten minute walk up the hill in the evening now takes us 20 aching, deep breathing minutes with Mora turning around every few meters to check on us and then walk back down the hill to encourage Syl to make it up.
Mora is really good to us and one day we ended up 8 miles away from home with her. She followed us out of the pueblo and went all the way to town with us. It´s a 6 hour round trip and she walked the entire way then waited outside of each store for us. She´s a small black dog with a greyish white beard showing her old age. She is very fit for her age and we looked like Lucy and Ethel trying to keep this dog from getting hit on the highway, but wouldn´t you know she got us a ride home on the way back. Mora is a dog from the campo so lots of people know her. Our 6 hour round trip was cut to 4 hours and we were glad Mora had refused to go home when we tried to make her. She goes to work with us every morning and walks us up the hill every afternoon. Morita es viejita pobrecita! 3 weeks in Aguinaliu is not nearly enough time to enjoy this place but hopefully we can return.
Hasta Luego
Joronda
We set off for northern Spain to a small pueblo called Aguinaliu. If you look on the map you won´t see it but you will see a small town called Huesca. It´s kind of close to there but muy muy poquito. From the terrace of the house we can see the Pyrenees mountains snow covered and demanding of several glances on a clear day. The air is dry but frigid and the smell of burning wood from a few casitas wafts into our nostrils. Not much is happening in the pueblo because it was abandoned a long time ago. Only 15 people live there and a poster from 1970 indicated that year may have been when people were forced out. There are an unbelievable number of abandoned pueblos in Spain. The house we live in is at the very top of the hill and we have to climb it twice a day to go home for lunch as well as after the days work is done. We live with Mario a Mexican Buddist Carpenter, Lucas a French Briton Fiddler, a 14 year old dog named Mora and a frisky over grown kitty named Huero. We exist off the fruits of labor from el huerto. Very little is bought from the market. Hopefully our work helps to produce more fruit.
On our first day at work Syl and I jumped in a water trough 7 feet deep to scoop out frozen green ¨sardine¨ water. In our rubber water proof boots we scooped for 4 hours. We did break for tea in the garden with Mateo and Lucas. I´m telling you life is good you all. Syl and I sang old school R&B trying to keep warm and forget about the smell. This was part of our first big project to set up drip irrigation for the garden.
Everyday we work in ¨el huerto¨ getting things ready for permament agriculture. Making seed beds, Mateo is built like a Chevy truck so he hauls the majority of dirt out of the earth while Syl and I swat never ending swarms of knats and mosquitos between every few shovels of dirt. We had previously been exiled to the evergreen forest to sing our songs and collect rich soil for planting. Then I opened my mouth and said I wanted hard work to do. A ten minute walk up the hill in the evening now takes us 20 aching, deep breathing minutes with Mora turning around every few meters to check on us and then walk back down the hill to encourage Syl to make it up.
Mora is really good to us and one day we ended up 8 miles away from home with her. She followed us out of the pueblo and went all the way to town with us. It´s a 6 hour round trip and she walked the entire way then waited outside of each store for us. She´s a small black dog with a greyish white beard showing her old age. She is very fit for her age and we looked like Lucy and Ethel trying to keep this dog from getting hit on the highway, but wouldn´t you know she got us a ride home on the way back. Mora is a dog from the campo so lots of people know her. Our 6 hour round trip was cut to 4 hours and we were glad Mora had refused to go home when we tried to make her. She goes to work with us every morning and walks us up the hill every afternoon. Morita es viejita pobrecita! 3 weeks in Aguinaliu is not nearly enough time to enjoy this place but hopefully we can return.
Hasta Luego
Joronda
27 February 2006
Misconceptions
We´ve left the confines of our mud hut in Kenya but not without many memories to muddle over. It seemed like most of the people we met there wanted to be in the U.S. We were told that everyone in the U.S. is comfortable and rich. They believed you could do any job and get paid a lot for it. They had no idea there was poverty and a journalist told me she wished her grandfather had been an African slave. On top of that they had no idea there are black people in the U.S. and you don´t know how many times we were asked if we were ¨white¨. One person was so confused that they wanted to know how could we be white with such dark skin. Ok, so now I was confused ¨What about all the Black American artist plastered on everything from the Matatus to clothing? We saw more 50 cent stuff in Kisumu than we ever see in Arizona. Oh, well that´s because ¨50 cent is so dark he must be a Luo from Kenya¨. My mouth was dropped wide open. ¨So what about all the other black entertainers whose names and faces are airbrushed everywhere?¨ It turns out that there are people who believe these are Africans coming from some other country in Africa that they are not familiar with. This is all a true story. With that said my ideas of the back to Africa movement are over. If you want to know more you´ll have to read my book.
Today I woke up in Barcelona and walked to a fluhsing toilet after I reached for my own roll of toilet tissue. I don´t have to carry that with me around here but I think it will be a while before I kick that habit. I went to wake up Mateo and our new travel buddy Miss Sylvia ¨Akua da poet¨ Doku so we could cruise downstairs for some free breakfast. It´s a good thing it´s free too because the Euro beats the dollar 1.2 to 1 and money goes fast in this part of the world. So much for being rich. Now that there´s three of us travelling, perhaps we´ll be able to stretch the money a bit further.
We´ll be heading North to Huesca to an organic retreat in the mountains where we´ll have to quickly adjust to consisitent Spanish dialogue. We´re getting our taste of it so far and we´re handling ourselves but between the three of us we speak about 60% Spanish. Let´s see how we do in a months time.
I have a little roll call I want to do. We´re not sure who is following us so respond to this post and give a little shout out to let us know you´re here. We see some consistent names and we are usually really excited to read our blog responses to see if those people have commented but we don´t know if other people are out there but silent. Also if you may, tell us what´s been your favorite place that we´ve visited so far and what is something we haven´t done that you suggest we do.
OK folks, we´ll be standing by to see who´s out there.
Joronda
Today I woke up in Barcelona and walked to a fluhsing toilet after I reached for my own roll of toilet tissue. I don´t have to carry that with me around here but I think it will be a while before I kick that habit. I went to wake up Mateo and our new travel buddy Miss Sylvia ¨Akua da poet¨ Doku so we could cruise downstairs for some free breakfast. It´s a good thing it´s free too because the Euro beats the dollar 1.2 to 1 and money goes fast in this part of the world. So much for being rich. Now that there´s three of us travelling, perhaps we´ll be able to stretch the money a bit further.
We´ll be heading North to Huesca to an organic retreat in the mountains where we´ll have to quickly adjust to consisitent Spanish dialogue. We´re getting our taste of it so far and we´re handling ourselves but between the three of us we speak about 60% Spanish. Let´s see how we do in a months time.
I have a little roll call I want to do. We´re not sure who is following us so respond to this post and give a little shout out to let us know you´re here. We see some consistent names and we are usually really excited to read our blog responses to see if those people have commented but we don´t know if other people are out there but silent. Also if you may, tell us what´s been your favorite place that we´ve visited so far and what is something we haven´t done that you suggest we do.
OK folks, we´ll be standing by to see who´s out there.
Joronda
10 February 2006
top ten
salaam
recently my mom just celebrated a birthday, which now puts her less then 1 year away from retirement...hooray!!! after 40 plus years as a medical technologist (microbiology, mycology, phlebotomy, etc.) my mom is finally approaching her glory...getting the hell out of the proverbial "9 to 5", and finally being able to do what she wants with her time...and i for one couldn't be more happy and proud!!!
so with that, i thought that i would offer everyone a few travel suggestions on how to spend your retirement, honeymoon, vacation etc. in a lettermen-esque "top ten" style.
be forewarned...the following is all true and uncensored
Mateo's Top Ten Experiences That Are Not To Be Missed By The Microbiologist In You.
10. being on a train somewhere in china and watching passenger after passenger plug a nostril and forcefully expel the others snotty contents into the air, and onto the floor, walls, tables, chairs, sleeping bunks, and bodies of anybody that happens to be near.
9. being on the same train and hearing the gutteral orchestra of numerous people pulling mucous from every part of their body into their throats and spitting the thick nasty blob directly on the carpet and floors of the cabin...then having to wade through the spit to get to the toilet, water heater, etc.
8. passing through a vietnamese kitchen to use the toilet and witnessing your meal being prepared directly on the floor with cockroaches, flies, and dogs all trying to sneak a taste.
7. being anywhere (in any of the countries that we've visited) and watching people jam no less than 2 knuckles worth of finger into each nostril, dig for gold, find it, roll it into a ball, and then flick it with no concern as to where it may land...then having the same people shake your hand, pat you on the back, or make your breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack or whatever with the same hand they just used to clear their nasal passages.
6. just arriving in your shaolin dormitory, looking at your bed and noticing that your sheet, blanket, pillow, and headrest are all stained with dirt, body oil, urine, and blood...then checking all the other beds in the room and realizing that they are exactly the same.
5. passing back through the same vietnamese kitchen with dirt and urine on the bottom of your sandals...stepping over vegetables and around meats and realizing that, not only is there no soap for washing hands, but you've just dripped dirt, urine, and whatever else is on the bottom of your sandals, directly onto the vegetables that are going into your spring roll....mmmmm.
4. precariously squatting over a loose pit latrine in a mud hut with a roof that is exactly 5'6" from the ground and inhaling the maggot infested scent of everyone elses bowel movements during the course of the year. listening to the fighter plane like sequences of the flies and mosquitos as they dart at your bare ass, and feeling many of them land on you back and crawl down the crack of your ass trying to get to the source of the liquidy shit that hasn't been solid since you left home. watching the biggest cockroaches you've ever seen crawl 6 inches away from your face, arms, legs, and over your exposed toes. and finally, watching the dust particles circle your exposed flesh and wondering if your inability to pee the previous day and night was the direct result of dirt lodged in your urethra, and whether or not you were on your way to a uti.
3. catching and weighing chickens, some with congestion, diarrhea, and rectal boils, and then being covered (hands, barefeet, pants, shirt) in their shit, feed, vomit, and blood, and slaughtering some 200+ of them at your compound in kisumu, kenya...then coming back and finding one of them dead in the same coop that you've been in for the past week.
2. going to the food prep area in your kisumu compound and seeing that same dead chicken lying in the "kitchen" next to a pot of boiling water and knowing that it is almost dinner time...then hearing on the news that a case of the bird flu has been found in nigeria.
and the number one experience that is not to be missed by the microbiologist in you...
going to use the squat toilets in your shaolin dormitory and finding that all of them are filled with stale urine and mounds of shit...then having no choice but to piss directly on someone elses shit and feeling their shit and your piss splash back up onto your shoes, pants, bare legs, and bare ass...and knowing that you have no running water or soap.
so who's ready to travel? :)
happy birthday mom!
salaam
mateo
p.s. i don't have a uti.
p.p.s. we never ate the dead chicken, instead it was thrown into the trash pit and burned...but its cause of death is still a mystery.
recently my mom just celebrated a birthday, which now puts her less then 1 year away from retirement...hooray!!! after 40 plus years as a medical technologist (microbiology, mycology, phlebotomy, etc.) my mom is finally approaching her glory...getting the hell out of the proverbial "9 to 5", and finally being able to do what she wants with her time...and i for one couldn't be more happy and proud!!!
so with that, i thought that i would offer everyone a few travel suggestions on how to spend your retirement, honeymoon, vacation etc. in a lettermen-esque "top ten" style.
be forewarned...the following is all true and uncensored
Mateo's Top Ten Experiences That Are Not To Be Missed By The Microbiologist In You.
10. being on a train somewhere in china and watching passenger after passenger plug a nostril and forcefully expel the others snotty contents into the air, and onto the floor, walls, tables, chairs, sleeping bunks, and bodies of anybody that happens to be near.
9. being on the same train and hearing the gutteral orchestra of numerous people pulling mucous from every part of their body into their throats and spitting the thick nasty blob directly on the carpet and floors of the cabin...then having to wade through the spit to get to the toilet, water heater, etc.
8. passing through a vietnamese kitchen to use the toilet and witnessing your meal being prepared directly on the floor with cockroaches, flies, and dogs all trying to sneak a taste.
7. being anywhere (in any of the countries that we've visited) and watching people jam no less than 2 knuckles worth of finger into each nostril, dig for gold, find it, roll it into a ball, and then flick it with no concern as to where it may land...then having the same people shake your hand, pat you on the back, or make your breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack or whatever with the same hand they just used to clear their nasal passages.
6. just arriving in your shaolin dormitory, looking at your bed and noticing that your sheet, blanket, pillow, and headrest are all stained with dirt, body oil, urine, and blood...then checking all the other beds in the room and realizing that they are exactly the same.
5. passing back through the same vietnamese kitchen with dirt and urine on the bottom of your sandals...stepping over vegetables and around meats and realizing that, not only is there no soap for washing hands, but you've just dripped dirt, urine, and whatever else is on the bottom of your sandals, directly onto the vegetables that are going into your spring roll....mmmmm.
4. precariously squatting over a loose pit latrine in a mud hut with a roof that is exactly 5'6" from the ground and inhaling the maggot infested scent of everyone elses bowel movements during the course of the year. listening to the fighter plane like sequences of the flies and mosquitos as they dart at your bare ass, and feeling many of them land on you back and crawl down the crack of your ass trying to get to the source of the liquidy shit that hasn't been solid since you left home. watching the biggest cockroaches you've ever seen crawl 6 inches away from your face, arms, legs, and over your exposed toes. and finally, watching the dust particles circle your exposed flesh and wondering if your inability to pee the previous day and night was the direct result of dirt lodged in your urethra, and whether or not you were on your way to a uti.
3. catching and weighing chickens, some with congestion, diarrhea, and rectal boils, and then being covered (hands, barefeet, pants, shirt) in their shit, feed, vomit, and blood, and slaughtering some 200+ of them at your compound in kisumu, kenya...then coming back and finding one of them dead in the same coop that you've been in for the past week.
2. going to the food prep area in your kisumu compound and seeing that same dead chicken lying in the "kitchen" next to a pot of boiling water and knowing that it is almost dinner time...then hearing on the news that a case of the bird flu has been found in nigeria.
and the number one experience that is not to be missed by the microbiologist in you...
going to use the squat toilets in your shaolin dormitory and finding that all of them are filled with stale urine and mounds of shit...then having no choice but to piss directly on someone elses shit and feeling their shit and your piss splash back up onto your shoes, pants, bare legs, and bare ass...and knowing that you have no running water or soap.
so who's ready to travel? :)
happy birthday mom!
salaam
mateo
p.s. i don't have a uti.
p.p.s. we never ate the dead chicken, instead it was thrown into the trash pit and burned...but its cause of death is still a mystery.
06 February 2006
Here Chicken Chicken
Over the past couple of days we've spent most of our time in chicken houses. We're involved in a poultry raising project and we had to get chickens ready for market. I thought I might become strictly vegetarian but so far so good. We started the first day with an order of 100 chickens but very quickly it got dropped to 30 because the chickens weren't making weight.
If you read the previous post then you know our living situation. There's no running water so we have to fetch it from a 65' well and haul it back to the village or travel a long distance over uneven terrain losing a quarter of the water on the way back. The toilet is a pit latrine with maggots crawling on the feces about 7' down and flies circling the pit opening. The door is half of a 70kg chicken feed bag. Meals are cooked outside or inside over wood burned coals and the fire temperature is raised using a plastic plate to fan the coals and flame. Our light source at night is a small parafin lamp and a flashlight. When the moon is in the sky it gives us enough light to make it from our mud hut to the latrine without the flash light. It really puts a lot of things in perspective for us. In one of the mud huts lives several orphans that live in the compound doing most of the daily work.
We are invloved in several projects but right now the chickens are a top priority. They are ready for market at 41 days but our chickens are about 7 weeks old which means the community is losing money. 400 chickens eat and drink a lot daily so they need to be sold quickly. It takes a lot of work to dress them for the market too. Going to the grocery store in the U.S. I was never aware of the process but now with first hand experience a chicken will never look the same to me again. Mateo and I have been responsible for weighing the live chickens and sending the good ones to slaughter. The slaughtering is done behind the mud hut where all of our cooking is done. Interestingly, the person slaughtering does it in a humane way which we later found out he learned from a Muslim.
The chickens are plucked, cleaned out, washed off and put in individual bags. Then all are put in a feed sack to go to the hotel that has placed the order. The workers are paid with the gizzards. Everyone working comes from the community and the money made will funnel back into community projects. It's all really grassroots. No high tech tools or machinery just knives sharpened on rocks, a few buckets, a wood fire and some plastic chairs. Everyone sits out in the grass under a tree getting the work done.
In addition to the chickens there's also trench digging to lay water pipes. Although women's rights are extremely lacking in Kenya the women in this part of the country are the major bread winners in the house however it's not by choice. The women spend so much time fetching water it takes time away from their economic endeavors. The pipes should help reduce time so people don't have to go so far for water. The women are also making homemade cinder blocks to build 10 composting latrines in the community. The waste will be used for manure after a drying process some years down the road. Every project that will benefit the community is done by the community. Old and young people are out there putting in a lot of hard work. We're trying to lend a hand wherever we're needed meaning sometimes were doing multiple jobs at once. It is so cool though.
As for our dealings with the chickens. We've slaughtered 132 so far. We have another order to finish filling on Wednesday and when everything is done the focus will be on the layers, the chickens who will make lots of money for the community with 400 eggs per day.
If you read the previous post then you know our living situation. There's no running water so we have to fetch it from a 65' well and haul it back to the village or travel a long distance over uneven terrain losing a quarter of the water on the way back. The toilet is a pit latrine with maggots crawling on the feces about 7' down and flies circling the pit opening. The door is half of a 70kg chicken feed bag. Meals are cooked outside or inside over wood burned coals and the fire temperature is raised using a plastic plate to fan the coals and flame. Our light source at night is a small parafin lamp and a flashlight. When the moon is in the sky it gives us enough light to make it from our mud hut to the latrine without the flash light. It really puts a lot of things in perspective for us. In one of the mud huts lives several orphans that live in the compound doing most of the daily work.
We are invloved in several projects but right now the chickens are a top priority. They are ready for market at 41 days but our chickens are about 7 weeks old which means the community is losing money. 400 chickens eat and drink a lot daily so they need to be sold quickly. It takes a lot of work to dress them for the market too. Going to the grocery store in the U.S. I was never aware of the process but now with first hand experience a chicken will never look the same to me again. Mateo and I have been responsible for weighing the live chickens and sending the good ones to slaughter. The slaughtering is done behind the mud hut where all of our cooking is done. Interestingly, the person slaughtering does it in a humane way which we later found out he learned from a Muslim.
The chickens are plucked, cleaned out, washed off and put in individual bags. Then all are put in a feed sack to go to the hotel that has placed the order. The workers are paid with the gizzards. Everyone working comes from the community and the money made will funnel back into community projects. It's all really grassroots. No high tech tools or machinery just knives sharpened on rocks, a few buckets, a wood fire and some plastic chairs. Everyone sits out in the grass under a tree getting the work done.
In addition to the chickens there's also trench digging to lay water pipes. Although women's rights are extremely lacking in Kenya the women in this part of the country are the major bread winners in the house however it's not by choice. The women spend so much time fetching water it takes time away from their economic endeavors. The pipes should help reduce time so people don't have to go so far for water. The women are also making homemade cinder blocks to build 10 composting latrines in the community. The waste will be used for manure after a drying process some years down the road. Every project that will benefit the community is done by the community. Old and young people are out there putting in a lot of hard work. We're trying to lend a hand wherever we're needed meaning sometimes were doing multiple jobs at once. It is so cool though.
As for our dealings with the chickens. We've slaughtered 132 so far. We have another order to finish filling on Wednesday and when everything is done the focus will be on the layers, the chickens who will make lots of money for the community with 400 eggs per day.
Fish Eyes
When Mateo was a child his mom would make him a good hardy meal of tuna noodle cassarole. As tasty and filling as it was he would throw up everytime. He was convinced she put fish eyes in it and whenever he bit into a "fish eye" everything that went down immediately came right back up. It wasn't until last year that he foun out the infamous fish eyes were in fact bread crumbs quit contrary to our first lunch in Kisumu.
We sat down at a table covered with flies on Lake Victoria. The server brought a basin and pitcher for us to wash our hands. Moments later the largest fish I've ever seen on a platter was sat in the middle of the table and 5 of us started pulling from the fish with our fingers and some corn meal mixture called ugali. We were told we had the honors of breaking open the head. We just kind of looked at each other like, is this some sort of test. They said we could have the eyes and I just knew they were joking. Then they started questioning us on not eating the eyes. "it's very nice, it's the nicest part...it's delicious" I didn't even try to grab for it. One of our host stuck his finger through the eye socket and detached it from the fishes head. Mateo and I were both watching flies land and take off of this fish while drippey hands dove in to grab flesh and juices. Our host Edward grabbed the eye and for the next 60 seconds he was chewing away. "it's very chewy" he said.
We didn't eat those fish eyes but a dinner and lunch time staple at our compound is small fish. We believe they are minnow. They are cooked with oil and diced tomatoes and again eaten with ugali. It's the whole little fish, eyes and all starring at us from the bowl. We get plenty of fish eyes over the course of the week.
We sat down at a table covered with flies on Lake Victoria. The server brought a basin and pitcher for us to wash our hands. Moments later the largest fish I've ever seen on a platter was sat in the middle of the table and 5 of us started pulling from the fish with our fingers and some corn meal mixture called ugali. We were told we had the honors of breaking open the head. We just kind of looked at each other like, is this some sort of test. They said we could have the eyes and I just knew they were joking. Then they started questioning us on not eating the eyes. "it's very nice, it's the nicest part...it's delicious" I didn't even try to grab for it. One of our host stuck his finger through the eye socket and detached it from the fishes head. Mateo and I were both watching flies land and take off of this fish while drippey hands dove in to grab flesh and juices. Our host Edward grabbed the eye and for the next 60 seconds he was chewing away. "it's very chewy" he said.
We didn't eat those fish eyes but a dinner and lunch time staple at our compound is small fish. We believe they are minnow. They are cooked with oil and diced tomatoes and again eaten with ugali. It's the whole little fish, eyes and all starring at us from the bowl. We get plenty of fish eyes over the course of the week.
29 January 2006
E- I - E - I - No!
48 hours after boarding a bus to Rongo we were boarding a bus back to Nairobi. Un freakin belieavable!
First of all wwoofing is an organinzation that connects volunteers to small communities and organic farms to exchange food and accomodation for hard work. We had e-mailed our hosts numerous times to work out the details. In that exchange they said everything was covered but they would need $9 to cover the cost of some food for us. No problem. Our budget was heavily based on wwoofing for this part of the trip but that $9 was certainly doable.
The sun came up after we napped from our 4 a.m. arrival and before we left the house I went to give the wife a U.S. 10 dollar bill. We didn't have 9 but take the ten it's ok.
She asks "what is this"
"it's the nine dollars you asked for."
"No no no, this is not enough. $9 a day"
My face changed and I said "that's not what you said"
The conversation persists for a minute and I ended with, "I need to talk to my husband about this."
By the time we got to the school we realized that these people believed we were there as some sort of philanthropist offering financial support. Only the school director and his wife knew about wwoofing. The staff had no idea. In fact, there wasn't even a farm there.
That night Mateo and I had to have a silent conversation by passing paper back and forth to discuss the issue. There was no private place to talk and the walls were open at the top so any sound could be heard. We asked to talk to our hosts the next morning and expressed to them that we felt we were invited there under false pretenses. We felt we should leave because we didn't want to be a burden but in addition to that we were uncomfortable with being lied to.
We ended up getting to the next town to catch a bus back to Nairobi but we had to take a chaperone with us because if you remember from the "Fools Gold" post we had no shilling...our hosts used it all. We reimbursed our chaperone, paid for his way back and invited him to have a meal with us. Don't you know a few days later I received an e-mail from our host asking why did we refuse to pay for the matatu fare like we agreed. The wife said she was forced to pay him. I was livid. I don't know what type of games those people are running but I sure am glad we're away from there. We got to Nairobi and were greeted with some real Kenyan hospitality.
Major, major appreciation to Baba Kanyana and Mama Kanyana and the Muriuki family. We spent 5 days at their house and it was great. The first morning Mama Kanyana fed us then had us go take a nap to rest from our long trip then woke us up to feed us again. We were like two little kids. We Spent a full day with Baba Kanyana touring the rural area, meeting his lifelong friends, seeing where there family is from and visiting family and friends. At every point we had to take tea or juice or at least water. They said you can't leave a place without swallowing your spit. We swallowed so much that we almost burst before making it to the bathroom to relieve ourselves when we returned to the city. It was great!
They connected us to an NGO and set up another opportunity for us to volunteer. So here we are now back in western Kenya but this time in Kisumu. There's truly a farm and lots of other projects. We'll be here for 3 weeks. We've already gotten blisters on our hands from trying to dig water channels.
We are living in a traditional Kenyan village. There's no electricity, no running water and the sanitation system is a pit latrine. The houses are made from mud and cooking is done over coals. We will be involved in the creation of water channels, poultry as well as community needs assessments and impact assessments. Two full nights under our belts and it's a good experience already. We'll have so many stories to tell. We live 13 kilometers outside of town. So we will be able to get on the internet whenever we come to town.
Joronda
First of all wwoofing is an organinzation that connects volunteers to small communities and organic farms to exchange food and accomodation for hard work. We had e-mailed our hosts numerous times to work out the details. In that exchange they said everything was covered but they would need $9 to cover the cost of some food for us. No problem. Our budget was heavily based on wwoofing for this part of the trip but that $9 was certainly doable.
The sun came up after we napped from our 4 a.m. arrival and before we left the house I went to give the wife a U.S. 10 dollar bill. We didn't have 9 but take the ten it's ok.
She asks "what is this"
"it's the nine dollars you asked for."
"No no no, this is not enough. $9 a day"
My face changed and I said "that's not what you said"
The conversation persists for a minute and I ended with, "I need to talk to my husband about this."
By the time we got to the school we realized that these people believed we were there as some sort of philanthropist offering financial support. Only the school director and his wife knew about wwoofing. The staff had no idea. In fact, there wasn't even a farm there.
That night Mateo and I had to have a silent conversation by passing paper back and forth to discuss the issue. There was no private place to talk and the walls were open at the top so any sound could be heard. We asked to talk to our hosts the next morning and expressed to them that we felt we were invited there under false pretenses. We felt we should leave because we didn't want to be a burden but in addition to that we were uncomfortable with being lied to.
We ended up getting to the next town to catch a bus back to Nairobi but we had to take a chaperone with us because if you remember from the "Fools Gold" post we had no shilling...our hosts used it all. We reimbursed our chaperone, paid for his way back and invited him to have a meal with us. Don't you know a few days later I received an e-mail from our host asking why did we refuse to pay for the matatu fare like we agreed. The wife said she was forced to pay him. I was livid. I don't know what type of games those people are running but I sure am glad we're away from there. We got to Nairobi and were greeted with some real Kenyan hospitality.
Major, major appreciation to Baba Kanyana and Mama Kanyana and the Muriuki family. We spent 5 days at their house and it was great. The first morning Mama Kanyana fed us then had us go take a nap to rest from our long trip then woke us up to feed us again. We were like two little kids. We Spent a full day with Baba Kanyana touring the rural area, meeting his lifelong friends, seeing where there family is from and visiting family and friends. At every point we had to take tea or juice or at least water. They said you can't leave a place without swallowing your spit. We swallowed so much that we almost burst before making it to the bathroom to relieve ourselves when we returned to the city. It was great!
They connected us to an NGO and set up another opportunity for us to volunteer. So here we are now back in western Kenya but this time in Kisumu. There's truly a farm and lots of other projects. We'll be here for 3 weeks. We've already gotten blisters on our hands from trying to dig water channels.
We are living in a traditional Kenyan village. There's no electricity, no running water and the sanitation system is a pit latrine. The houses are made from mud and cooking is done over coals. We will be involved in the creation of water channels, poultry as well as community needs assessments and impact assessments. Two full nights under our belts and it's a good experience already. We'll have so many stories to tell. We live 13 kilometers outside of town. So we will be able to get on the internet whenever we come to town.
Joronda
Fools Gold
We arrived in Kenya after spending a full night in the airport in Doha, Qatar. We had no complaints about spreading out on the floor and chairs among all the Hajj travellers. Qatar Airways was supposed to put us up in a hotel but every time we went to the counter to ask they just kept giving us food vouchers. So we ate very well all night.
We weren't sure if our host would be at the Jomo Kenyatta airport even though they told us we would be collected when we arrived. We've been travelling a while now so negotiating a good taxi price to town was relatively easy. We made our way to the hostel and called our host from a payphone. Through the static of heavy down pouring rain we were told we would be picked up the next day after lunch.
The next day we decided to go to the city center before heading to western Kenya. Getting to Nairobi center was just a short trip in a very crowded matatu. The matatu is a small van like bus with 3 rows of seats. You kind of have to flag them down, then hop in before they pick up speed. I banged my head twice and put a contusion on my knee trying to get it right. Suprisingly they play extremely loud uncensored music. I kept looking at the lady next to me to see her reaction to some of the lyrics but she never moved. Very quickly we learned this was just Nairobi matatu style.
Our host did meet us but it was after numerous failed attempts to reach him. The time was 6 pm when he and his brother walked up to the hostel. Somehow it turned out that we needed to take a taxi with them to the brothers house in one of the city slums and without really understanding the arrangement we ended up paying for all of us to go there. So much for being collected.
We spent the next day trying to cash in a gold coin so our host could buy some things for his school. We followed him to numerous jewellers while collecting more people in our party on the way. We were excited to be in Nairobi but as the day wore on we weren't really sure what was going on. On the quest to exchange the gold we picked up a female pastor, a young girl claiming to be the pastors daughter, a strange man eating lunch with our host when the young girl reunited us with our host and several building security guards. Somehow all of these people were involved in the exchange of this gold.
After hours of tireless trekking our host walks us through some back alley streets without saying a word until we asked and were told we're going to book our bus tickets. He also said he didn't have enough money to get back home so he was sending us by ourselves. Turns out the coin was gold plated and he would have to find his fare the next day. Well, this meant we would be arriving in a small rural town at 4 oclock in the morning, by ourselves, with no idea of where to go and not knowing if someone would meet us. No way! We could have done that 2 days ago and had much more money in our pockets. At this point we had zero Kenyan shilling because our host used it all.
We did a bit more walking around and he miraculously got his fare from some street vending man so we booked his bus ticket and boarded the Akamba bus for Rongo that night.
Joronda
We weren't sure if our host would be at the Jomo Kenyatta airport even though they told us we would be collected when we arrived. We've been travelling a while now so negotiating a good taxi price to town was relatively easy. We made our way to the hostel and called our host from a payphone. Through the static of heavy down pouring rain we were told we would be picked up the next day after lunch.
The next day we decided to go to the city center before heading to western Kenya. Getting to Nairobi center was just a short trip in a very crowded matatu. The matatu is a small van like bus with 3 rows of seats. You kind of have to flag them down, then hop in before they pick up speed. I banged my head twice and put a contusion on my knee trying to get it right. Suprisingly they play extremely loud uncensored music. I kept looking at the lady next to me to see her reaction to some of the lyrics but she never moved. Very quickly we learned this was just Nairobi matatu style.
Our host did meet us but it was after numerous failed attempts to reach him. The time was 6 pm when he and his brother walked up to the hostel. Somehow it turned out that we needed to take a taxi with them to the brothers house in one of the city slums and without really understanding the arrangement we ended up paying for all of us to go there. So much for being collected.
We spent the next day trying to cash in a gold coin so our host could buy some things for his school. We followed him to numerous jewellers while collecting more people in our party on the way. We were excited to be in Nairobi but as the day wore on we weren't really sure what was going on. On the quest to exchange the gold we picked up a female pastor, a young girl claiming to be the pastors daughter, a strange man eating lunch with our host when the young girl reunited us with our host and several building security guards. Somehow all of these people were involved in the exchange of this gold.
After hours of tireless trekking our host walks us through some back alley streets without saying a word until we asked and were told we're going to book our bus tickets. He also said he didn't have enough money to get back home so he was sending us by ourselves. Turns out the coin was gold plated and he would have to find his fare the next day. Well, this meant we would be arriving in a small rural town at 4 oclock in the morning, by ourselves, with no idea of where to go and not knowing if someone would meet us. No way! We could have done that 2 days ago and had much more money in our pockets. At this point we had zero Kenyan shilling because our host used it all.
We did a bit more walking around and he miraculously got his fare from some street vending man so we booked his bus ticket and boarded the Akamba bus for Rongo that night.
Joronda
25 January 2006
The Bold, the proud, the Marines
I know we said four days and it's been much longer than that but the scenic route turned out to be a bit more than we bargained for. Hopefully you all haven't been too worried. We're o.k. now but it was touch and go for a minute there.
We found ourselves at the Airport in Yemen trying to get a plane ticket to any East African Country close to Kenya...this is where the story begins. We approached the transfers desk to ask about a ticket and and hour and a half later we were still waiting there. Remember we wanted to fly to Djibouti but it turns out the flight wasn't leaving until Tuesday and it was Saturday. No way we were going to be in Yemen that long.
After we spoke with the airline reps, the security asked for our passports to put with the rest of the passengers. This was the biggest mistake we made. After 3 hours we were still trying to get our passports back. If you didn't know, Hajj (the muslim pilgrammage to Mecca) just ended. The airport was filled with hajj travellers and they assummed we were headed to Dar es Salaam with the group who came in right behind us.
It's kind of exhausting to tell this story so please bare with me...
Ok, so the airport is filled with security in different uniforms a lot of them are carrying heavy artillery. In the effort to retrieve our passports we follwed around a guard who was promising us the documents were coming. When we did get them back it was with a few men around us trying to get us to leave the area and pay for a visa which we read we didn't need to get into Yemen. During hour 4 we tried to purchase a ticket and I had to be escorted by the military police to the salees office while Mateo watched our bags. The guard escorted me to the ATM then into a small room full of military men where he had the lead guard tell me in English "this man will help you but you have to pay him...is this ok?" I said no and inched my way to the door behind me. The guard escorted me back to the sales office where I bought what I thought was an airline ticket.
Hour 5 we tried to confirm the ticket but security tried ushering us up the stairs. They gestured that we would go to jail if we didn't listen. All for a ticket confirmation. When a manager came over we were walked back to the ticket office with all of our things and given our money back. The manager yelled at the sales guy in Arabic and moments later we had our U.S. dollars back in our hands. OK great...but were in Yemen. We sat outside the security gates with our big packs on trying to figure out what to do. We saw a securitydissappear past a wall an a few seconds later come back with an armed guard. Great!!! We are now being monitored inside the airport with no ticket to fly out and no way to walk out the front door.
Mateo went to the only other airline open and after being surrounded by all types of guards he was able to go pay for visas and get the number to the U.S. Embassy where this airline rep suggested we run to.
Hour 6 we're in a taxi headed to the Embassy. In front of the fort guarded by Yemenia military guards we got a supervisor who got a U.S. Marine on the line. I have never been so happy to hear an American accent. He said "we'll take care of you". We got in the Embassy and Cpl Preston gave us info and what felt like great security. We stayed in a hotel next to the Embassy and baracaded ourselves inside for 2 days. We still stayed in Yemen until Monday but after another visit to the Embassy we were on a plane to Qatar. It turns out the Embassy was celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday so they were closed for business when we needed them.
Joronda
We found ourselves at the Airport in Yemen trying to get a plane ticket to any East African Country close to Kenya...this is where the story begins. We approached the transfers desk to ask about a ticket and and hour and a half later we were still waiting there. Remember we wanted to fly to Djibouti but it turns out the flight wasn't leaving until Tuesday and it was Saturday. No way we were going to be in Yemen that long.
After we spoke with the airline reps, the security asked for our passports to put with the rest of the passengers. This was the biggest mistake we made. After 3 hours we were still trying to get our passports back. If you didn't know, Hajj (the muslim pilgrammage to Mecca) just ended. The airport was filled with hajj travellers and they assummed we were headed to Dar es Salaam with the group who came in right behind us.
It's kind of exhausting to tell this story so please bare with me...
Ok, so the airport is filled with security in different uniforms a lot of them are carrying heavy artillery. In the effort to retrieve our passports we follwed around a guard who was promising us the documents were coming. When we did get them back it was with a few men around us trying to get us to leave the area and pay for a visa which we read we didn't need to get into Yemen. During hour 4 we tried to purchase a ticket and I had to be escorted by the military police to the salees office while Mateo watched our bags. The guard escorted me to the ATM then into a small room full of military men where he had the lead guard tell me in English "this man will help you but you have to pay him...is this ok?" I said no and inched my way to the door behind me. The guard escorted me back to the sales office where I bought what I thought was an airline ticket.
Hour 5 we tried to confirm the ticket but security tried ushering us up the stairs. They gestured that we would go to jail if we didn't listen. All for a ticket confirmation. When a manager came over we were walked back to the ticket office with all of our things and given our money back. The manager yelled at the sales guy in Arabic and moments later we had our U.S. dollars back in our hands. OK great...but were in Yemen. We sat outside the security gates with our big packs on trying to figure out what to do. We saw a securitydissappear past a wall an a few seconds later come back with an armed guard. Great!!! We are now being monitored inside the airport with no ticket to fly out and no way to walk out the front door.
Mateo went to the only other airline open and after being surrounded by all types of guards he was able to go pay for visas and get the number to the U.S. Embassy where this airline rep suggested we run to.
Hour 6 we're in a taxi headed to the Embassy. In front of the fort guarded by Yemenia military guards we got a supervisor who got a U.S. Marine on the line. I have never been so happy to hear an American accent. He said "we'll take care of you". We got in the Embassy and Cpl Preston gave us info and what felt like great security. We stayed in a hotel next to the Embassy and baracaded ourselves inside for 2 days. We still stayed in Yemen until Monday but after another visit to the Embassy we were on a plane to Qatar. It turns out the Embassy was celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday so they were closed for business when we needed them.
Joronda
11 January 2006
From one wonder to the next
So we weren't too shaken after that last adventure. Although sore for a few days and then hit with a little cold bug but we've recovered. So now it's time for the next plan.
We hit the continent of Africa and we didn't quite know how we were going anywhere from there. Some of you may remember that we planned to take trans-siberian railway across Russia and then scale the borders of numerous European countries before crossing the Mediterranean sea. Instead, after darn near freezing to death on the Great Wall we hopped on a 757 and booked it across the open skies straight to Cairo. I know we've talked about cold a lot but neither of us had ever been this cold in our lives. The wind was trecherous and climbing straight up to cross watch tower after watch tower just became debilitating after a while. How could it possibly be this cold and how could people live in it! China on one side and Mongol on the other was an unbelieveable experience. I mean we were actually walking on one of the man made wonders of the world and the photos in our history books had done it no justice. But my God my knees and ankles were rock solid frozen. Maybe it would have been better if we knew there was a nice cozy heater to go back to but it's been a rare occasion when we've been privy to a heater around these parts. Mateo's forehead and cheeks were red, my ears were ringing and both our noses were running and freezing at the same time. Have you ever seen snot crystalize... then shatter?
So a few days later we're living it up in the 55 degree Cairo weather. Ahhhh warmth. Cairo is a bustling metropolis with donkey and horse carts pulling men and women wrapped in scarves headed to their spot to sell their goods. The buildings are close together like New York City and the living is apartment style. You can buy bread on the street from the guy riding his bike with the whole rack on his head. Sweet potatoes are cheap, hot and fresh off the grill with wheels (easy mobility). Black and white Fiat Taxi's dart in and out of lanes never breaking for pedestrians. Packs of boys walk the streets arm in arm singing and yelling and having fun together. The same streets where men stroll arm in arm conversing with their brothers.
We've traversed the streets with our huge backpacks looking like foreigners coming home. We look foreign but somehow doemstic as well. Before we got here we got all kinds of stares and more than several times people just started speaking French to Mateo. Now we're asked what part of Africa we're from. Of course we have absolutely no connection to Africa and this garners a wealth of emotion for both of us. We are asked where we're from and America just doesn't suffice for people. They want to know where we're originally from. Of course we don't have that answer. A lot of people seem to think I'm from Sudan and Mateo looks a bit Egyptian and maybe South African. We've started telling people we're from Mexico and that seems to be suitable. Actually one person got it right when he straight out asked if we were from Mexico. I figured he should be able to see that for sure in my husband.
So how does all of this amount to more adventure? Well, even though I look Sudanese, we can't take the chance of going through Sudan to get deeper into East Africa. Instead we're taking the scenic route. We've opted to exit Africa briefly and then reenter through Djibouti. We will stop in a total of 4 countries before we reach Kenya in just about as many days. Most of that trip will be overland so that will require some patience and a little bit of blending in.
We tried to practice blending today as we trekked the sands of Giza to see the pyramids and the Sphinx. We were offered so many camel rides but no way because we could do it on our own...and we did. The camels were cool but I didn't think they were treating the animals right and it was all just a big tourist trap. Wait until you see some of the pictures. We don't blend very well with my lime green jacket. Anyway, tomorrow is our last day in Cairo before we head to Alexandria, up the Nile on the Mediterranean. We may be out of contact for a few days so here is our plan.
1. Fly from Alexandria to Sajrah, United Arab Emirates January 14th at 1:10am
2. Take a connecting flight to Sana'a, Yemen 6:45 am
3. Stay one night in Yemen and then fly or merchant ferry to Djibouti January 15th
4. Take a bus to Dire Dawa, Ethiopia
5. Transfer to a train in Dire Dawa and head for Addis Ababa, Ethiopia (Capital City)
6. Try to get on a bus the same day going straight to Nairobi (overnight bus maybe January 17th)
This may take about 4 days
Once we're in Nairobi we may be met by our host where we're volunteering who will take us 7 or 8 hours to Rongo (Mbita) a small town on Lake Victoria just across from Uganda
As soon as we can we will post and update you all on our status and location.
Salaams from Cairo
Joronda
We hit the continent of Africa and we didn't quite know how we were going anywhere from there. Some of you may remember that we planned to take trans-siberian railway across Russia and then scale the borders of numerous European countries before crossing the Mediterranean sea. Instead, after darn near freezing to death on the Great Wall we hopped on a 757 and booked it across the open skies straight to Cairo. I know we've talked about cold a lot but neither of us had ever been this cold in our lives. The wind was trecherous and climbing straight up to cross watch tower after watch tower just became debilitating after a while. How could it possibly be this cold and how could people live in it! China on one side and Mongol on the other was an unbelieveable experience. I mean we were actually walking on one of the man made wonders of the world and the photos in our history books had done it no justice. But my God my knees and ankles were rock solid frozen. Maybe it would have been better if we knew there was a nice cozy heater to go back to but it's been a rare occasion when we've been privy to a heater around these parts. Mateo's forehead and cheeks were red, my ears were ringing and both our noses were running and freezing at the same time. Have you ever seen snot crystalize... then shatter?
So a few days later we're living it up in the 55 degree Cairo weather. Ahhhh warmth. Cairo is a bustling metropolis with donkey and horse carts pulling men and women wrapped in scarves headed to their spot to sell their goods. The buildings are close together like New York City and the living is apartment style. You can buy bread on the street from the guy riding his bike with the whole rack on his head. Sweet potatoes are cheap, hot and fresh off the grill with wheels (easy mobility). Black and white Fiat Taxi's dart in and out of lanes never breaking for pedestrians. Packs of boys walk the streets arm in arm singing and yelling and having fun together. The same streets where men stroll arm in arm conversing with their brothers.
We've traversed the streets with our huge backpacks looking like foreigners coming home. We look foreign but somehow doemstic as well. Before we got here we got all kinds of stares and more than several times people just started speaking French to Mateo. Now we're asked what part of Africa we're from. Of course we have absolutely no connection to Africa and this garners a wealth of emotion for both of us. We are asked where we're from and America just doesn't suffice for people. They want to know where we're originally from. Of course we don't have that answer. A lot of people seem to think I'm from Sudan and Mateo looks a bit Egyptian and maybe South African. We've started telling people we're from Mexico and that seems to be suitable. Actually one person got it right when he straight out asked if we were from Mexico. I figured he should be able to see that for sure in my husband.
So how does all of this amount to more adventure? Well, even though I look Sudanese, we can't take the chance of going through Sudan to get deeper into East Africa. Instead we're taking the scenic route. We've opted to exit Africa briefly and then reenter through Djibouti. We will stop in a total of 4 countries before we reach Kenya in just about as many days. Most of that trip will be overland so that will require some patience and a little bit of blending in.
We tried to practice blending today as we trekked the sands of Giza to see the pyramids and the Sphinx. We were offered so many camel rides but no way because we could do it on our own...and we did. The camels were cool but I didn't think they were treating the animals right and it was all just a big tourist trap. Wait until you see some of the pictures. We don't blend very well with my lime green jacket. Anyway, tomorrow is our last day in Cairo before we head to Alexandria, up the Nile on the Mediterranean. We may be out of contact for a few days so here is our plan.
1. Fly from Alexandria to Sajrah, United Arab Emirates January 14th at 1:10am
2. Take a connecting flight to Sana'a, Yemen 6:45 am
3. Stay one night in Yemen and then fly or merchant ferry to Djibouti January 15th
4. Take a bus to Dire Dawa, Ethiopia
5. Transfer to a train in Dire Dawa and head for Addis Ababa, Ethiopia (Capital City)
6. Try to get on a bus the same day going straight to Nairobi (overnight bus maybe January 17th)
This may take about 4 days
Once we're in Nairobi we may be met by our host where we're volunteering who will take us 7 or 8 hours to Rongo (Mbita) a small town on Lake Victoria just across from Uganda
As soon as we can we will post and update you all on our status and location.
Salaams from Cairo
Joronda
05 January 2006
new years eve...shaolin style
a little background...
we left xi'an by train to the city of zhengzhou, stayed in zhengzhou for a night and then ventured south by bus to dengfeng where 17km outside of the city lies the original shaolin temple and several dorms which would become our new "home". when we arrived at the shaolin temple area it was cold and so we found a place to stay the night and bunkered down. the next day we woke up to falling snow and equally declining temperatures, we then decided to forego our shaolin escapades for a nice quiet day in our new dorm room listening to music and playing gin rummy (sp?). enter day 3...on day three (new years eve) we ventured out of our dorm and down the snow covered paved path to the various sights of the shaolin temple. first it was a very touristy martial arts gallery/museum, then the actual shaolin temple, then another temple, then the "forest" of pagodas...all were lining this well paved path with much vehicular traffic and tourists walking and getting out of little electric cars at the various points. nothing scary and nothing to worry about at this point.
adventure time...
we had previously read in our lonely planet guidebook, and subsequently seen on the tourist map that there was a hanging bridge in the shaoshi shan mountains surrounding shaolin. i was very excited to see this bridge and it was one of the main destination points in our sight seeing for that day...joronda, on the other hand, was very apprehensive and not enjoying the potentiality as much as i. (you should ask her for her version of the story). anyway, we decided to give it a whirl knowing that it was going to be somewhat of a hike. at this point it was just short of noon and we had plenty of daylight remaining, so we headed some 2000 meters up the street towards our destination. it turns out that once you traverse the street portion you then reach what appears to be the base of the mountain, and you are then faced with a series of staircases that are to take you the rest of the way. now it wasn't actively snowing but the ground was covered in snow (just up to the ankles at some points) and the stairs were pretty steep...but we're montanos, so we pressed forward.
we walked for about 15 minutes through a mediocre range of stairs and flat land before we reached this beautiful iced over waterfall. i've never seen anything like it before...the majority of the waterfall was frozen, but you could still hear and see some of the water underneath. over one of the rocks the water had frozen mid fall and was hanging in the air...it was beautiful. because the water was iced over we were able to walk right up on the waterfall itself and get a once in a lifetime look at it...i was thouroughly impressed. so, i just knew that the hanging bridge was somewhere at the top of this waterfall and that we were very close to finding it. so we took several pictures and then continued up the mountain. now by this time the stairs were extremely steep and as we were climbing, both our muscles and lungs were burning from lack of oxygen. but it was good to be working out and the scenery was so beautiful that i felt it was a small sacrifice for our experience. so finally after about 2 hours and some 2000+ steps we made our way to what we thought was the top of the mountain...it turned out to be the stopping point for the cable car/ski lift that wasn't in operation that day because of the weather. we were both feeling tired and hungry, but seeing as how we only had two small steamed buns, a little peanut butter, and less then a quarter of a bottle of water we decided to hold out and continue our journey. we would eat at the hanging bridge and it couldn't be that much farther...could it?
so we pressed ahead, grateful that the path was flat and that there didn't appear to be any stairs in our immediate future. after 10 minutes of easy walking we rounded the bend of the mountain and looked out in amazement at what lay before us. the mountain had completely opened up and the path was precariously perched along the side of it. the path looked like a tongue depresser on toothpicks, rubber cemented to the biggest mountain i've ever seen. we were much higher than i'd anticipated and looking over the railing produced nothing but looming fog and shakey knees. the entire bottom half of this mountainous valley was engulfed in snow, trees and fog...as was the "hanging plank", as they call it, minus the trees of course. joronda was noticably nervous and shaken and certainly did not trust this time tested support system. quietly, i did not blame her, but i knew that i couldn't let our fears and self doubts stop us now, the scenery was too impressive to quit and the hanging bridge had to be close.
so we walked nervously along this hanging plank that was clinging to the side of the mountain and when we got to the scariest point, we turned around and realized that where we had just come from looked much scarier then the point we were at. with our self doubt momentarily subsided we pressed on...up and down numerous stairs, over paths suspended in time, around the circumference of the mountain, through the snow and fog, all at dizzying heights and all fueling our desire to reach our goal...the hanging bridge. after 2 hours of the most scenic hike we've ever taken, we finally reached the hanging bridge. thump thump, thump thump, thump thump, our hearts pounded with fear and our bodies surged with adrenaline as we looked at the 782-step, snow covered, rope bridge dangling across the foggy expanse of this mountain some 1500 meters above sea level. being that i am deathly afraid of heights, it hardly looked safe...my heart was beating in my throat and joronda was on the verge of tears...but there was no turning back now!! i decided to go first just in case some should go wrong, so with all of the bravery i could muster up i gave my teary-eyed wife a kiss and said a heartfelt prayer before stepping out onto the bridge. immediately the cables tensed and the bridge sagged under my weight. from that height the bridge swayed side to side clanking against it's movement restricting supports, but i felt like EVERYTHING was swaying, the mountain, the trees, my courage...nothing seemed to keep still as i walked one foot in front of the other towards the end of the bridge. in the middle, i paused momentarily to look out and down to get an idea of just how high i was. as the mountain and trees moved beneath me and the fog swirled up and wisped my shoes i had no doubt as to just how high i was...enough sightseeing i thought, it's time to get to the other side, so as quickly and safely as i could i continued. having reached solid ground successfully i was exstatic, i could hear my heart pounding out the "eye of a tiger" beat as the wind carried the lyrics through my chest to harmonize with my ego. wiping the sweat from my brow i turned to look at adrian, um joronda, who was very scared and seemed to be miles away. nervously, i pulled out the video camera to capture her harrowing victory on tape...stepping slowly onto the moving platform she gripped the chicken wire sides for reassurance. in much the same fashion as i, she crossed shakily, safely, and thankfully. glad to have reached the safety of the other side, joronda was real cool on ever repeating said feat again. but not me, i was so excited to have done that...i really felt like i'd accomplished something. i mean, i'm still a chicken shit when it comes to heights but it felt good to challenge myself on that level and momentarily overcome my fears. so with that, i ventured out onto the middle of the bridge a couple of more times for some crucial photo ops...i was going to have documentation of this moment!!!
our journey was finally complete and we were very happy to have made it to our destination...but now reality set in. we were 4 hours into the mountain and only had about 2 hours of daylight remaining...shhhiiiit. what do we do? according to the map it was a shorter distance to the ending parking lot if we just continued to press forward instead of turning around and going back the way we came...so we decided to do just that. after a few more last minute pictures we continued forward over equally rugged and precarious terrain. at one point, joronda felt so weak that we decided to break into our steamed buns and water...we each ate 1/2 a steamed bun and drank a sip of water and then continued. eventually we broke off icicles from the overhanging rocks and nawed on them to get water...and let me tell you, that icicle felt so good against our tongues that we didn't even mind the dirt in our teeth as a result. still continuing forward our 2 hours of daylight quickly slipped away and we soon found ourselves in a much more adventurous situation than we had originally bargained for. to make matters worse, the snow had begun to turn to ice which made all of the thin stone steps we had to descend, very slippery and dangerous...plus, there were no hand rails in some spots which would make for a hell of a fall. on top of all that, the fog was so thick that it engulfed our path in a visionless blur...so we couldn't really see what was awaiting us until we were a few feet from it. did i mention that the sun was setting? talk about living on the edge...literally!!!
so there we are, descending into the unknown foggy depths of this snow covered mountain somewhere in central china with very little food and water, a fast setting sun, and no concrete idea as to how much more of this mountain we would have to travel through to get to the other side...plus no one knew that we were out there. but we had courage, each other, and God on our side so i believe that we were good. anyway, about 40 minutes after the sun had gone down we happened upon this very small mountain village who's residents were extremely surprised to see us. they pointed us in the right direction, which was the direction we were already headed in, and we continued on our way. at the very least we figured that if push came to shove we could head back to them and hopefully get a meal and a corner to sleep until daylight. clinging to the side of the mountain we navigated the terrain like a brain surgeon wearing boxing gloves...v e r y, v e r y s l o w l y, and fumbling a whole hell of a lot. so now, about another 40 minutes or so after we had passed the mountain town we were face to face with the longest, snow covered, foggy staircase we have ever witnessed, imagine the yucatan pyramids...on crack!!! slowly we began descending the first 100+ steps praying for an end...no relief, just more steps. our legs burned, our hands were frozen, and my fu manchu 'snot'stache keep dripping into my damn mouth...eww!! on to the second 100+ steps...again, no relief, just more steps. 3 and 4 more landings of 100+ steps a piece all resulted in nothing. finally after 6 hours of mountaineering we made it onto solid ground, through a set of gates, and into the open, snowy field of the parking lot...hoo "muthaf'n" oray! (bernie mac tribute)
but not for long...
the parking lot was pitch black and there were no cars, no taxis, and no cavalry to greet us. instead we were now some 20+ km away from our dorm room and we had no real idea how to get back without venturing through the mountain again. so armed with my little flashlight and my wife's hand in mine, we set out walking down some two lane mountain highway in china hoping that we would eventually see a sign or something that would indicate which way we should go. by this time the sun had set well over an hour ago and it was only about 7 pm, so we figured that people should still be out and about, if you will. while we were walking we had plenty of time to bond like we had never done before...we talked about our relationship and the future of it, kids and time capsules, compliments and apologies, and what we were most excited about for our future...it was beautiful, and we really felt connected. alone, on that mountain highway, with nothing but the foggy moonlight to guide us, we really had a special moment and i believe that our relationship will prosper as a result.
anyway, at the first sign that we passed on the road it indicated that a right turn would take us to dengfeng (the city 17km outside of shaolin) and a left turn would take us to what would turn out to be a temple...how do we know that?...because we took the left turn and then had to turn back around and head towards dengfeng. no worries though, because we figured that when we got there we could hire a taxi and make it back to the dorm in no time. so the next sign we reach is all in chinese, as are all of the future signs that we would encounter on this dark roadway. there were no cars and no lights...who knows if we were even still headed to dengfeng...we never saw another sign that indicated that we were or weren't for that matter. eventually, after about 1 1/2 hours of walking we heard cars and decided to head in that direction assuming that it was the main road of the town. so with new enthusiasm we plowed ahead...when we finally reached the cars we were on a bridge that over looked the freeway. WHAT THE HELL?!?!
both of us were visibly defeated as we honestly believed that this would be the main road...we had absolutely no idea where we were as our guidebook was of very little help at this point. we didn't know if we should keep going forward, or turn around and go back the way we came and take one of the side streets that we had passed, or walk alongside the freeway. joronda went into the woods to use the toilet and i just slumped down and prayed and poured through our guidebook for any glimpse of an answer. eventually we decided to just keep heading straight since we had seen several big rigs going in that direction. so moving a few paces forward, and really just standing in the middle of the road, we spotted some headlights coming in our direction. both of us were hoping that this would be our good samaritan and help us out...zoom...the car whizzed past us. dejected, we turned back around to keep walking when we noticed brake lights and the car making a u-turn...alhamdulillah. the little hatchback pulled up next to us and the front and back windows rolled down to reveal 2 men, 2 women, and a baby...much chinese and broken english was passed between us and thankfully they offered us a ride. we gladly accepted and piled in the backseat...it was the 2 women, the baby, myself, and joronda in my lap all crammed in the back of this yugo-type of economy car. we proceeded to head down the road as our hosts tried to figure out where we needed to go. the vehicle reeked of alcohol and the one girl that spoke english the best seemed drunk. joronda was heavy as hell on my lap, the driver was swerving in and out of traffic, the man in the front seat was trying to extort money from us in chinese, the women in the back were laughing and chatting loudly, and the baby was screaming and crying uncontrollably. it turned out to be a nightmarish test of patience.
when they finally "understood" that we were staying in the dorm of one of the shaolin schools it seemed like everything was going to be ok. soon we were stopped at some school with the people telling us to get out of the car because this was our school...we told them for the umpteenth time that this was not our school and that we were not staying here. they then proceeded to tell us that the shaolin temple was closed and that we should stay here for the night and return in the morning. we told them that was not an option and pleaded for them to take us to our school...the english speaking one kept saying "don't worry we will help you" and so we left again. about 15 minutes later we were at yet another school and the same scenario repeated itself, however, this time we were "forced" to get out of the car and the driver and his drunk male friend left us and the english speaking lady at the front gates of this school that "her friend owns". again she wouldn't listen to our pleas that this was not our "home" and that we wanted to go to our "home". finally we decided to set out on foot again and leave our samaritans...so we thanked them and departed. fortunately, we now knew that we were in dengfeng and we had seen several taxis on the corner. so we walked to the corner and were immediately solicited by a taxi driver...we paid him 50 rmb and he took us HOME. thank GOD!!!!!!!!!!
so after a hell of an afternoon/night we arrived safely at our dorm and we were both never more excited to see the dirty, piss scented place that we had called home. the time was 2230, and we stayed awake just long enough to ring in the new year before drifiting off in a well deserved slumber.
on behalf of my wife and i, we would like to wish all of our family and friends a very happy new year and a blessed 2006. may you all prosper and be shown mercy in this life and the next.
salaam
mateo
we left xi'an by train to the city of zhengzhou, stayed in zhengzhou for a night and then ventured south by bus to dengfeng where 17km outside of the city lies the original shaolin temple and several dorms which would become our new "home". when we arrived at the shaolin temple area it was cold and so we found a place to stay the night and bunkered down. the next day we woke up to falling snow and equally declining temperatures, we then decided to forego our shaolin escapades for a nice quiet day in our new dorm room listening to music and playing gin rummy (sp?). enter day 3...on day three (new years eve) we ventured out of our dorm and down the snow covered paved path to the various sights of the shaolin temple. first it was a very touristy martial arts gallery/museum, then the actual shaolin temple, then another temple, then the "forest" of pagodas...all were lining this well paved path with much vehicular traffic and tourists walking and getting out of little electric cars at the various points. nothing scary and nothing to worry about at this point.
adventure time...
we had previously read in our lonely planet guidebook, and subsequently seen on the tourist map that there was a hanging bridge in the shaoshi shan mountains surrounding shaolin. i was very excited to see this bridge and it was one of the main destination points in our sight seeing for that day...joronda, on the other hand, was very apprehensive and not enjoying the potentiality as much as i. (you should ask her for her version of the story). anyway, we decided to give it a whirl knowing that it was going to be somewhat of a hike. at this point it was just short of noon and we had plenty of daylight remaining, so we headed some 2000 meters up the street towards our destination. it turns out that once you traverse the street portion you then reach what appears to be the base of the mountain, and you are then faced with a series of staircases that are to take you the rest of the way. now it wasn't actively snowing but the ground was covered in snow (just up to the ankles at some points) and the stairs were pretty steep...but we're montanos, so we pressed forward.
we walked for about 15 minutes through a mediocre range of stairs and flat land before we reached this beautiful iced over waterfall. i've never seen anything like it before...the majority of the waterfall was frozen, but you could still hear and see some of the water underneath. over one of the rocks the water had frozen mid fall and was hanging in the air...it was beautiful. because the water was iced over we were able to walk right up on the waterfall itself and get a once in a lifetime look at it...i was thouroughly impressed. so, i just knew that the hanging bridge was somewhere at the top of this waterfall and that we were very close to finding it. so we took several pictures and then continued up the mountain. now by this time the stairs were extremely steep and as we were climbing, both our muscles and lungs were burning from lack of oxygen. but it was good to be working out and the scenery was so beautiful that i felt it was a small sacrifice for our experience. so finally after about 2 hours and some 2000+ steps we made our way to what we thought was the top of the mountain...it turned out to be the stopping point for the cable car/ski lift that wasn't in operation that day because of the weather. we were both feeling tired and hungry, but seeing as how we only had two small steamed buns, a little peanut butter, and less then a quarter of a bottle of water we decided to hold out and continue our journey. we would eat at the hanging bridge and it couldn't be that much farther...could it?
so we pressed ahead, grateful that the path was flat and that there didn't appear to be any stairs in our immediate future. after 10 minutes of easy walking we rounded the bend of the mountain and looked out in amazement at what lay before us. the mountain had completely opened up and the path was precariously perched along the side of it. the path looked like a tongue depresser on toothpicks, rubber cemented to the biggest mountain i've ever seen. we were much higher than i'd anticipated and looking over the railing produced nothing but looming fog and shakey knees. the entire bottom half of this mountainous valley was engulfed in snow, trees and fog...as was the "hanging plank", as they call it, minus the trees of course. joronda was noticably nervous and shaken and certainly did not trust this time tested support system. quietly, i did not blame her, but i knew that i couldn't let our fears and self doubts stop us now, the scenery was too impressive to quit and the hanging bridge had to be close.
so we walked nervously along this hanging plank that was clinging to the side of the mountain and when we got to the scariest point, we turned around and realized that where we had just come from looked much scarier then the point we were at. with our self doubt momentarily subsided we pressed on...up and down numerous stairs, over paths suspended in time, around the circumference of the mountain, through the snow and fog, all at dizzying heights and all fueling our desire to reach our goal...the hanging bridge. after 2 hours of the most scenic hike we've ever taken, we finally reached the hanging bridge. thump thump, thump thump, thump thump, our hearts pounded with fear and our bodies surged with adrenaline as we looked at the 782-step, snow covered, rope bridge dangling across the foggy expanse of this mountain some 1500 meters above sea level. being that i am deathly afraid of heights, it hardly looked safe...my heart was beating in my throat and joronda was on the verge of tears...but there was no turning back now!! i decided to go first just in case some should go wrong, so with all of the bravery i could muster up i gave my teary-eyed wife a kiss and said a heartfelt prayer before stepping out onto the bridge. immediately the cables tensed and the bridge sagged under my weight. from that height the bridge swayed side to side clanking against it's movement restricting supports, but i felt like EVERYTHING was swaying, the mountain, the trees, my courage...nothing seemed to keep still as i walked one foot in front of the other towards the end of the bridge. in the middle, i paused momentarily to look out and down to get an idea of just how high i was. as the mountain and trees moved beneath me and the fog swirled up and wisped my shoes i had no doubt as to just how high i was...enough sightseeing i thought, it's time to get to the other side, so as quickly and safely as i could i continued. having reached solid ground successfully i was exstatic, i could hear my heart pounding out the "eye of a tiger" beat as the wind carried the lyrics through my chest to harmonize with my ego. wiping the sweat from my brow i turned to look at adrian, um joronda, who was very scared and seemed to be miles away. nervously, i pulled out the video camera to capture her harrowing victory on tape...stepping slowly onto the moving platform she gripped the chicken wire sides for reassurance. in much the same fashion as i, she crossed shakily, safely, and thankfully. glad to have reached the safety of the other side, joronda was real cool on ever repeating said feat again. but not me, i was so excited to have done that...i really felt like i'd accomplished something. i mean, i'm still a chicken shit when it comes to heights but it felt good to challenge myself on that level and momentarily overcome my fears. so with that, i ventured out onto the middle of the bridge a couple of more times for some crucial photo ops...i was going to have documentation of this moment!!!
our journey was finally complete and we were very happy to have made it to our destination...but now reality set in. we were 4 hours into the mountain and only had about 2 hours of daylight remaining...shhhiiiit. what do we do? according to the map it was a shorter distance to the ending parking lot if we just continued to press forward instead of turning around and going back the way we came...so we decided to do just that. after a few more last minute pictures we continued forward over equally rugged and precarious terrain. at one point, joronda felt so weak that we decided to break into our steamed buns and water...we each ate 1/2 a steamed bun and drank a sip of water and then continued. eventually we broke off icicles from the overhanging rocks and nawed on them to get water...and let me tell you, that icicle felt so good against our tongues that we didn't even mind the dirt in our teeth as a result. still continuing forward our 2 hours of daylight quickly slipped away and we soon found ourselves in a much more adventurous situation than we had originally bargained for. to make matters worse, the snow had begun to turn to ice which made all of the thin stone steps we had to descend, very slippery and dangerous...plus, there were no hand rails in some spots which would make for a hell of a fall. on top of all that, the fog was so thick that it engulfed our path in a visionless blur...so we couldn't really see what was awaiting us until we were a few feet from it. did i mention that the sun was setting? talk about living on the edge...literally!!!
so there we are, descending into the unknown foggy depths of this snow covered mountain somewhere in central china with very little food and water, a fast setting sun, and no concrete idea as to how much more of this mountain we would have to travel through to get to the other side...plus no one knew that we were out there. but we had courage, each other, and God on our side so i believe that we were good. anyway, about 40 minutes after the sun had gone down we happened upon this very small mountain village who's residents were extremely surprised to see us. they pointed us in the right direction, which was the direction we were already headed in, and we continued on our way. at the very least we figured that if push came to shove we could head back to them and hopefully get a meal and a corner to sleep until daylight. clinging to the side of the mountain we navigated the terrain like a brain surgeon wearing boxing gloves...v e r y, v e r y s l o w l y, and fumbling a whole hell of a lot. so now, about another 40 minutes or so after we had passed the mountain town we were face to face with the longest, snow covered, foggy staircase we have ever witnessed, imagine the yucatan pyramids...on crack!!! slowly we began descending the first 100+ steps praying for an end...no relief, just more steps. our legs burned, our hands were frozen, and my fu manchu 'snot'stache keep dripping into my damn mouth...eww!! on to the second 100+ steps...again, no relief, just more steps. 3 and 4 more landings of 100+ steps a piece all resulted in nothing. finally after 6 hours of mountaineering we made it onto solid ground, through a set of gates, and into the open, snowy field of the parking lot...hoo "muthaf'n" oray! (bernie mac tribute)
but not for long...
the parking lot was pitch black and there were no cars, no taxis, and no cavalry to greet us. instead we were now some 20+ km away from our dorm room and we had no real idea how to get back without venturing through the mountain again. so armed with my little flashlight and my wife's hand in mine, we set out walking down some two lane mountain highway in china hoping that we would eventually see a sign or something that would indicate which way we should go. by this time the sun had set well over an hour ago and it was only about 7 pm, so we figured that people should still be out and about, if you will. while we were walking we had plenty of time to bond like we had never done before...we talked about our relationship and the future of it, kids and time capsules, compliments and apologies, and what we were most excited about for our future...it was beautiful, and we really felt connected. alone, on that mountain highway, with nothing but the foggy moonlight to guide us, we really had a special moment and i believe that our relationship will prosper as a result.
anyway, at the first sign that we passed on the road it indicated that a right turn would take us to dengfeng (the city 17km outside of shaolin) and a left turn would take us to what would turn out to be a temple...how do we know that?...because we took the left turn and then had to turn back around and head towards dengfeng. no worries though, because we figured that when we got there we could hire a taxi and make it back to the dorm in no time. so the next sign we reach is all in chinese, as are all of the future signs that we would encounter on this dark roadway. there were no cars and no lights...who knows if we were even still headed to dengfeng...we never saw another sign that indicated that we were or weren't for that matter. eventually, after about 1 1/2 hours of walking we heard cars and decided to head in that direction assuming that it was the main road of the town. so with new enthusiasm we plowed ahead...when we finally reached the cars we were on a bridge that over looked the freeway. WHAT THE HELL?!?!
both of us were visibly defeated as we honestly believed that this would be the main road...we had absolutely no idea where we were as our guidebook was of very little help at this point. we didn't know if we should keep going forward, or turn around and go back the way we came and take one of the side streets that we had passed, or walk alongside the freeway. joronda went into the woods to use the toilet and i just slumped down and prayed and poured through our guidebook for any glimpse of an answer. eventually we decided to just keep heading straight since we had seen several big rigs going in that direction. so moving a few paces forward, and really just standing in the middle of the road, we spotted some headlights coming in our direction. both of us were hoping that this would be our good samaritan and help us out...zoom...the car whizzed past us. dejected, we turned back around to keep walking when we noticed brake lights and the car making a u-turn...alhamdulillah. the little hatchback pulled up next to us and the front and back windows rolled down to reveal 2 men, 2 women, and a baby...much chinese and broken english was passed between us and thankfully they offered us a ride. we gladly accepted and piled in the backseat...it was the 2 women, the baby, myself, and joronda in my lap all crammed in the back of this yugo-type of economy car. we proceeded to head down the road as our hosts tried to figure out where we needed to go. the vehicle reeked of alcohol and the one girl that spoke english the best seemed drunk. joronda was heavy as hell on my lap, the driver was swerving in and out of traffic, the man in the front seat was trying to extort money from us in chinese, the women in the back were laughing and chatting loudly, and the baby was screaming and crying uncontrollably. it turned out to be a nightmarish test of patience.
when they finally "understood" that we were staying in the dorm of one of the shaolin schools it seemed like everything was going to be ok. soon we were stopped at some school with the people telling us to get out of the car because this was our school...we told them for the umpteenth time that this was not our school and that we were not staying here. they then proceeded to tell us that the shaolin temple was closed and that we should stay here for the night and return in the morning. we told them that was not an option and pleaded for them to take us to our school...the english speaking one kept saying "don't worry we will help you" and so we left again. about 15 minutes later we were at yet another school and the same scenario repeated itself, however, this time we were "forced" to get out of the car and the driver and his drunk male friend left us and the english speaking lady at the front gates of this school that "her friend owns". again she wouldn't listen to our pleas that this was not our "home" and that we wanted to go to our "home". finally we decided to set out on foot again and leave our samaritans...so we thanked them and departed. fortunately, we now knew that we were in dengfeng and we had seen several taxis on the corner. so we walked to the corner and were immediately solicited by a taxi driver...we paid him 50 rmb and he took us HOME. thank GOD!!!!!!!!!!
so after a hell of an afternoon/night we arrived safely at our dorm and we were both never more excited to see the dirty, piss scented place that we had called home. the time was 2230, and we stayed awake just long enough to ring in the new year before drifiting off in a well deserved slumber.
on behalf of my wife and i, we would like to wish all of our family and friends a very happy new year and a blessed 2006. may you all prosper and be shown mercy in this life and the next.
salaam
mateo
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