Road Trip

Ahhh… and the adaptation of "Cobanero" life has gotten the better of me, and once again I've fallen behind on my journaling. As with many other young travelers' blogs, it almost seems as if I might forget my familial audience of four or five readers. Fear not! I've been busy, but I intend on inundating you with stories and photos over the next day or so. For now, let me recap the last few weeks.

November 7 - 17

A majority of our work has been focused on the documentary project. We shot video 9 days out of those 10, and sometimes even twice in one day. We're now left with hours of footage to revise, narrate, translate, etc. We have the next week (November 28 - December 3) to solidify themes and a storyline. Our release date (via YouTube) is December 3, when Padre Pedro presents it to St. Patrick's Parish in Edina. Again, this video will serve as a informational video to heed new or further financial support from donors.

While I don't want to give away what is in the video, I can say we've shot over 10 interviews with monks and different community members (including the Bishop of Alta Verapaz). We got further exposure to aldea life, and furthered our understanding of the community's interaction with the people of Coban.

Aside from video work (which truly took up a lot of time), we did the typical routine: a few Sopranos here and there, a few late-night whiskey drinks, some cat-naps on the hammock and PLENTY of coffee breaks.

ROAD TRIP PART 1 November 18

As you folks may or may not know, the visa situation in Guatemala is very interesting. As an American citizen, I am permitted a 3-month visitor's visa very easily. In order to renew that visa for another 3 months, I must leave the country for 72 hours. For our first trip, Justin and I determined that our destination was Placencia, Belize. Translation: "Required Trip to Paradise"

We were even more excited when we heard that Raul and Donal were going to Road Trip up to Placencia with us.

Raul and Donal fit in a very similar character description. They are both in their mid-50's, only speak Spanish, and are rich family men. They both appear rather passive but LOVE to drink scotch whiskey (and their bellies show it). Raul started a radio station in Coban in the early 80's (his connection with Bernie) and knows everyone in town. Donal works in the cardamom import business but has struck hard times recently due to a loss of a daughter, wife and aunt all in the same year. They seemed worthy enough travel partners, and we were happy to get a free ride up with two locals.

The trip started out rough. I awoke at an early 6:00am to find myself with a massive headache. Raul and Donal picked us up at 6:30am, clearly excited to "road-trip it" with a couple of young rascals. On the way out of town, we stopped at a gas station for the famous "Abre de ojos" (eye-opener) drink that Bernie had told us so much about. As I sipped on my so-called "Something Special: Fine Scotch Whiskey" and tried to get into the spirit of things, I realized that I felt worse. 

We packed up and headed out in Raul's Jeep: old guys in the front, young guys in the back. As soon as we were on the open road, Raul pulled out a burned CD Titled "Ingles," put 'er in the CD player, and CRANKED the volume. A variety of Pop blasted over the speakers, including Spanlish cuts from Pitbull, Enrique Iglesias, and other unbearable artists. While this music can be fun to some in a bar or club setting, I can assure you it is no fun when it's 7:00am and you're about to find out you have food poisoning. 

After a few feeble attempts to car-dance and look like I was having fun, I began to curl in to the fetal position, feeling my stomach tighten up in complicated knots. With each curvy turn in the wandering mountain roads, I realized I didn't have much time.

"Necesitamos PARRAR!" 

Click. Plunch. Burp. BLAHHHH!

I dropped out of the car on my knees and could barely hold myself up as I revealed what was inside my stomach. After I was done, I was bound in a cold sweat, drenched in my "100% Guate" Gallo shirt that I won at Oktoberfest. After I had my intimate vomiting session with the side of the Guatemalan mountain road, we carried on (blasting music and all) to a place for breakfast.

I ordered up a nice meal of steak and eggs. This did not work very well. My stomach didn't even ponder the situation; I threw up in the restaurant bathroom. As I returned from my second hellish episode, I resolved I would only be eating what I felt like. All I felt like doing, though, was lying down. This was something I was not able to do until 8:00p.m. that night.

The rest of the day is rather hard to recount, as I was either sick as a dog or sleeping. I excused myself once more on the side of the road and was dry heaving for most of the day. I consumed several glasses of sparkling water with Alka-Selzer, as well as a few pieces of pineapple. We made several stops along the way, doing this or that. Raul stopped several times to say hello to friends and relatives (during this time sat hunched in the car, hoping to be struck by lightning). The whole trip was plagued with 100% volume from the speakers. We hear our far share of Reggaetone, Pop, and awful Maringa music. Our playlist was also fairly concentrated. The next few songs were played the most; often times twice or thrice in a row..

(I'm convinced this is the worst song I've ever heard)

Pitbull...

and more Pitbull...

I was exhausted but relieved when we reach Raul's cabin in Peten that night, and in no condition to explore the place. I found a half-inflated air mattress in a small cement room covered with a thatched roof. I briefly looked for a pump (didn't realize it was in a bag hanging from the bed post) and flopped down on the bed. That was it. lights out.

ROAD TRIP PART 2 November 19

I woke to find myself on a rugged but pristine lake shore property. It was like something out of Robinson Crusoe: thatched roofs, dirt stairs, simple structures (see photos below). 

Donal, me, Justin, Raul

I felt better, and although I was not inclined to have fried fish and an "abre de ojos" with Raul, Donal, and Justin, I was game enough to go for a swim in warm Lake Iztbal. I caught a pretty good one of Justin with an "abre de ojos" after swimming.

(see photos below).

Abre de Ojos

The second road trip day was as the first: less conversation, more loud music. This time, Raul pulled out matching Coban Radio shirts (you can see mine in the banner picture below). We courted around Belize with these matching jerseys.. looked like one heck of a crew. We stopped several times to visit more friends of Raul. Crossing the boarder was easy, and Belize was fun to sightsee. After countless stops and drive-bys, I was able to pull these two gems out of the camera:

Guy riding horseback, wearing Do-rag

Banner

I hope I win the drawing...

Turns out everyone in Belize speaks English: what a wonderful break for us! In fact, the roles were reversed: no one spoke spanish! Our position was "translator" for the rest of the trip. We arrived in Placencia late at night, coincidentally the same night as a Garifuni (remember Livingston?) celebration. Thus the town was shut down and booked out. After talking to a few of the locals, we ended up lucking out and getting some rather expensive sea cabins which were only yards from the beach and ocean. We settled in, got cleaned up and went out for dinner on a seaside bar and grill. Food was typical American (Thank God!), and I had my first meal since the previous Thursday: a grilled ham & cheese, fries, and onion rings. It tasted wonderful, but I was full immediately afterwards and I still couldn't stomach beer. We at and watched a few local rastamen dance with some touristy young white women. While this was incredibly entertaining, we were tired from our journey, and retired to our rooms soon after dinner.