Flamgos of Celestun

    I use walking as a way to burn off my excessive taco and pan dulce  calorie consumption. It is very rare that I will get a taxi anywhere, even if I don't know where I am going. Merida is a pretty big city with 3 bus stations, and yesterday I needed to find one of them. I left the house early in the morning to catch a bus to the coastal town of Celestun, where there are huge populations of flamingos, frigates, herons, and pelicans that take refuge in the slough. As I am walking in the direction that my internal compass say is towards the bus, I stop 2 men and ask directions. ATTENTION!! When asking directions of locals NEVER ask a leading question. They will just agree with you!  Anyway... they give me some directions, but I still get lost. For 2 hours.
   During my little wayward walkabout I found the market, which was positive. Mexican markets are gorgeous. There are giant mountains of oranges, towers of bananas, rolling hills of red tomatoes. A girl could spend her day eating her way through the market, but this girl was on a mission. As I was charging head down, full throttle through the walkway, all of a sudden this black furry animal drops from the ceiling into my arms. The market is already a sensory overload, without things falling from the ceiling. It startled me a bit, and I noticed that it was a fake rat. I hear the laughter of two young booth owners, at my expense. I gave them a good you-got-me gesture, and headed on my way.

Celestun flamigo reserve. 

   When I arrived in Celestun I happened to get grouped with a family of 4 visiting Merida from Mexico City. This was such great luck for me, because not  only were they so much fun to spend the day with, you also have to split the cost of the boat rental tour into the estuary. The tour is about $100 US, and leaves from the bridge of the Ria.

Pelican Island. 

Frigate birds chillin in the breezy Ria.

A little tunnel through the mangroves.

   Flamingo's congregate in big clusters, and create gorgeous pink pods. They are pretty ridiculous when they fly. Their skinny little bodies can't support their long legs.  The estuary also has a pelican island, where the pelicans relax in clusters. At the front of the island hoards of frigate birds hover on the winds above. The mangroves on the edges of the estuary are very important as a source of shelter and breeding ground for many varieties of birds and fish.
 

 After the tour I returned to Merida with my new friends. On the bus ride home Diana, Hiraam, and I chatted the whole 2 1/2 hours. Diana speaks wonderful english, and Hiraam is learning quickly. A good portion of our conversation was about different types of food in Mexico. Naturally, when the bus arrived  we all went to dinner together. Last night I discovered the most delicious dish they have here in the Yucatan- Cochinta Pibil. It is pork that is marinated in a anchiote sauce, then wrapped in a banana leaf and baked in the oven. This makes some juicy mouth watering pork tacos!  I can't wait for lunch today!

    Today I tried to go to the Museo de Mundo Maya, but it was closed. It looked pretty awesome by the head statues outside!  Tonight I take my first night bus, and I'll arrive in the  morning at the Mayan ruins of Palenque!

The family I spent my nature day with. They are visititng from D.F.

Museo de Mundo Maya- from the outside.

Rosca De Reyes

When the weather turned bad in Holbox, I decided to get on the bus and head to a sunnier horizon. Boy did I find it. I am here in Merida, where it is a good 85 degrees. I had to use sunscreen for the first time in Mexico. Yipee!!

Not my CS house- but the style of home very typical in the area.

  I am staying at a couch surfing friends house. His name Rodrigo, and is he a salt water fly fisherman. If only those Montana boys could see the size of the flies he uses. They are real monsters! He uses them to catch tarpons I believe. Rodrigo lives in the colonial center of town in an antique colonial house. It has giant 20-30 ft ceilings, enormous doorways, and big courtyards that allow the air to move freely. It is really a gem! Rodrigo's house is also located in the fancy part of town, next to all the bank houses and expat homes. There is a Walmart, Starbucks, and Hennesy's two blocks away. He was telling me that Merida has become a popular place for Americans to retire, because they can purchase these giant old homes for very cheap. However, this causes the prices of rent to increase to a point that is unaffordable for locals.

The Rosca de Reyes. It was impossible for me to take a photo of the whole thing.

The 3 kings

   After I met Rodrigo, and chatted a bit about the New Year and Christmas I went out for a stroll. Tomorrow, January 6, is Three Kings Day. Three Kings day is somewhat similar to Christmas, but instead of a Santa you have have three kings that bring you gifts. Another tradition on Three Kings Day is that you eat a circle "fruit" cake. It is not really a cake and there is not really fruit on it.... so why am I calling it a fruit cake? It is more like a delicious sweet bread that has dried fruit on top. In celebration of Three Kings Day the hotel district hosted a bit of a party. They created a circular cake that was the length of an entire city block. When I started walking past I was thinking to myself how many people do they plan on feeding here! For 30 pesos  ( about $2.50) you received a piece of cake and a soda. You always chose your own piece of cake. This is really important because there is a little baby inside the cake somewhere, and whoever it is that gets it has to make a meal for everyone on Feb 2. It was such a fun family activity.

Rodrigo is so gracious and lets me take silly photos with him... even at the taco stand. :)

Merida's Loncheria. Yummy Mango smoothies. I'm addicted. 

 Later that evening Rodrigo took me to the most delicious taco stand. Here I found out there is a special technique for eating tacos that are super full of pig and cow fat. Rodirgo informed me that you have to support the tortilla from the bottom or all the stuffing falls out, and your tortilla breaks.

I love these neat S chairs they have in the city! Rodrigo and I
sat here and chatted in the shade for a while in the morning. 

The folklore dancers in Merida's Central Plaza.

 Rodrigo speaks perfect English, but is being very patient and letting me speak with him in Spanish entirely. I told him that for every taco I eat my Spanish improves 10 times. He laughed and said by the time I leave Mexico I'll be fluent in that case. I can't wait.
   Sunday's are a big day for catching up with the family in Latin America. They know how to do it right here in Merida. I went out for a run this morning on the main avenue, and realized that they had closed off about a mile or more of the road for runners and cyclist to use! It was so nice seeing families out riding bikes together, or just strolling down the street. The biking path ended at the Grand Plaza in front of the big Catholic church. Sunday is a market day, and the plaza was filled with food vendors, artisans, and a stage where they put on performances of regional dances. A terrific way to pass a Sunday morning.









Here is a link to a video of the dancing in the plaza. https://drivegoogle.com/file/d/0Bzqb0g33bQ4aSkhDRlk0RUU5aDQ/edit?usp=sharing

Holbox Island

 The weather in Holbox turned nasty on Friday, and whats a girl to do on a tropical island with 30mph winds and rain. Well, if you are my girlfriend Anna, you grab your kiteboard and get to surfing. I met Anna when I was living in a house in the coastal hills of Costa Rica. She is one of those fabulously talented individuals that as soon as she decides to do something, she is the best. She is a gorgeous artist, and painted practically half of the artwork on the walls of the Tribu hostel. She also teaches poi dance. Poi is most common at raves, when everyone is tripping on LSD and lights are extremely stimulating. Anyway... Anna now lives on Holbox, and teaches Poi classes to the guest of the Tribu Hostel.

The beach in Holbox. 

Although the day was pretty relaxed, and I spent most of it bothering the two Mexican sister staying in my dorm with spanish questions, the night was a riot. The hostel has a small bar upstairs, where they invite DJs and other artists to perform. Friday night they invited a couple to play djembe drums. The wife was a good 6 months pregnant, but kept a great rythm. I hope to have that kind of stimania without carrying around an extra human. Anna did a poi performance with them and it almost made me dizzy. She has such a beautiful way to move along with the rythm of the music.

Other highlights of Holbox were the excellent company of the other hostel guests. I had forgotten how fun it can be to simply sit around, and share stories with other travelers. One of my favorites was my roomie Georgia who recently finished univeristy, and is starting on a journey through Central America. She and I spent a good amount of time giggling, and sharing travel tips.

Tribu Hostel- The place to stay if you in holbox. 

A little breakfast spot with ocean views. 

Here is a link to a video I took of a little boy in the plaza beating the tar out of stuffed doll on a nuse... i don't think it was full of candy. Maybe it is just practice for when the real piñata comes around. https://drive.google.com/file/d/0Bzqb0g33bQ4ackFxRjJQakp5UEE/edit?usp=sharing

Doce Deseos

New Years Eve was fantastic in an entirely different way than I had expected it to be. Judging a little to quickly by Irac profession as a party promoter I thought we were going to be raging the whole night in some smoked out club with pulsing cruchy techno! Not the case at all.
  First we picked up Irac two gorgeous lady friends, Liz from Mexico and Yovani from Colombia, and did a little taco depot to satiate  Liz's mojito induced hangover. We returned Liz to her apartment to recover for the evening, because she obviously knew better than me what the night would entail. We drove across town a little ways, and pull into this quiet family neighborhood. We are going to the home of Irac's mother. It is modest and lovely home, and there are three separate tables set up in what appears to be the gated carport. Everything is really calm, and there are little kids running in and out of the party blowing whistles.
   At about 11:30 the hostess brings out a Thanksgiving sized feast. We are talking the turkey, the pork, the fettuccine, apple salad, bread, some sort of delicious corn flour soup. As I hadn't eaten in 27 hours I was beside myself to get after, and boy was it yummy. We were in the middle of finishing up dinner when someone yeld out," siete minuto!" ( 7 minutes) No one really seemed r
rushed or excited about it, but then when it was 11:59 everyone was standing up with whistles in hand, and this gigantic bowl of grapes get thrust in front of me and everyone is frantically grappeling for a handful of grapes. I didn't know what the deal was but I grabbed some grapes and started eating them. I found out later from Yovani that the 12 grapes that you eat in the first minute of the New Year are a symbol for your 12 desires for the New Year. It can be health, success, love, money, family, whatever you want to have in the New Year.
  After the normal hoopla goes down everyone starts embracing. And its not like in the US with a quick pat on your shoulder. It is a long embrace, where you tell the person why they are so important to you and how much you love them. I even saw tears accumulating in the mothers eyes as her son hugged her for a good 5 minutes. It was really beautiful, and much better than drinking my face off till 6 am at the dirty frog, or whatever that place is called.
   Yovani, Irac and I left at about 2 to go home, but how could I be so silly to actually believe that. We stopped at a friend of Iracs home, where they were just setting up the Karaoke machine. Holy Moly, I don't know too much about Latinos but I can say with confidence that they love to sing, dance, and be with family. Irac told me that in Mexico when you go to someones house there are three thing you always do. First you greet absolutely everyone there with a kiss and a hug, then you drink something, and you eat something. It doesn't matter how much you ate before you arrived at their house. Now you must eat the food the Señora of this house prepared. I ate, drank a few sips, and then promptly paced out on the couch. Irac felt for me and got me back to his apartment. I was happy to be in bed especially when I heard him come back at about 7:30am.

There are mangrtoves all over the island. The bird symphony at night is wonderful.

   Yesterday I caught the bus to Holbox, where I am in full on relax mode. I am stuffing my face with Sol cerveza, and tacos al pastor,and ceviche fresco bien rico! Its a little difficult to just sit on the beach all afternoon when you are accustomed to having so many tasks to take care of during the day. But let me put your anxieties to rest, i am making

Beach in Holbox at sunset.

the transition okay.

Feliz Año a todos de Mexico!

Breakfast with Huevos Rancheros, and fresh tortillas

Gringolandia

I just arrived in Cancun after a grueling 24 hours of travel. Last night myself and the newly weds  left Casper at about 8pm. We spent an uneventful night in the airport. However, nothing makes me feel more like a bum than crawling out of my sewn up goodwill sheet, and grunting on the floor in the darkest corner of the Denver International Airport.
   This go around I am trying out the international couch surfing circuit, and I am impressed! Half out of necessity, because not a single hostel room was available in Gringolandia on New Years Eve, I searched out a host in Cancun. Irac accepted my request right away, and picked me up at the chaotic bus terminal in downtown Cancun. While he navigated the obsurd  downtown traffic to his apartment, he told me he has lived in every state in Mexico, plus Torronto, Canada and New York City. Once we arrived at his super chic/modern apartment he told me that tonight we are going to party all night long with his friends, and it is going to be a real Mexican New Years celebration. So now I dont want to be the lemon guest that falls asleep before the salsa dancing evens starts! I am taking a power nap, and getting my party face on! PRONTO

Tomorrow I am headed to Isla Holbox to meet up with an Italian girlfriend I met in Costa Rica. La vida esta Buena! Feliz Año Nuevo. Aye, I have to over come my fear and start speaking spanish quickly!

If It's Not Yours, Don't Touch It

           

The MacCarter Family Christmas tree is up, which seconds as the cat lounge when no one is on guard, and we are all excited to spend one of the last Christmas’s with all 4 of us together. Over Thanksgiving my brother shared the wonderful news that he received a promotion for being a bad-ass computer dude and would be moving to the Southeast to… write code or whatever, and make big-ish bucks! Now, my big bro and I have not been pumping the big-foam-finger for one another our entire lives, but hey we’re not in the 90’s anymore and well, I love that guy!

             My brother is the opposite of me in almost everyway. He is a total minimalist. For example once I bought him wall and table décor as a house-warming gift and he rolled his eyes and inquired about the receipt. It was only after convincing him that the ladies need a hallway mirror to check their make-up when they come over that he consented.  So he doesn’t have a lot of stuff, but when he decides to splurge it is on techi gadgets, with price tags that make my head spin. Okay, honestly that doesn’t take much.  I am the girl with the quasi-broken hand me down ipod shuffle with 2 settings play/ off, and the only flat screen I own is a kindle e-reader. But my brother is cool! He’s got it all. The so fast it’ll melt your face Mac-book pro pro, the I-pad, the Mini Cooper, and the swagger like Mick Jagger. Alright, now I am getting carried away. 

            My brother is also the opposite of me in his preparation and organization. Most mornings you’d find me rinsing toothpaste out of my mouth with coffee from my mug, as I sprint to the car. Where as my brother is the annoying guy that arrives to work at 7:50, and has everything lined out for the day. Which is why when he was preparing to come home this evening to visit the family he had his little cooper all stuffed like santa’s slay with gifts and gadgets to give away. Then some sculduggerous Christmas hater chose to break the window of his car, and remove ALL the fun toys.

            Thieves get my blood boiling in a special way. When a thief stole my wallet at a border in Central America I didn’t stand there and just start crying. No, I ran that carnál into the jungle, shouting obscenities I don’t want my mother to read.  Then there was the time my bicycle was stolen from my basement, and I posted signs around town that said “I hope you ride my bike without a helmet and get hit by a monster truck.”

             When someone steals from someone you love it gets you upset in a whole different way. A way that is more helpless and less justified, but equally infuriating. You know what mr. car thief you didn’t just steal a lap top or a jacket. You stole Christmas! You stole a mom getting to coddle her son for 3 of her 7 days a year, and her opportunity to share some part of his exciting big move. You stole a father’s opportunity to tell his son that he thinks “he is a good man, and he is really proud of him.” You stole my chance to wrangle him into making mom-mom’s sugar cookies, and laugh at our silly parents. These are things that would have been humdrum had he been here, but will be missed when they don’t happen. Like a stockings stuffed with toothpaste and deodorant.

Scene of the crime

Eye Spy with My Little Eye, Red Leaves Falling From the Sky

               While running this afternoon I got this feeling- maybe you’ve felt it too. The air is biting. The trees are undressing for winter, and an old crisp friend greets you at the sunrise. Autumn is my favorite season, and I always welcome him with open arms and many layers. 

    

There is something familiar about this change, but its difficult to pinpoint just what. Staring across at the park, and the cottonwood full of rusty crinkling leaves I remember the boy  I once kissed there under the shower of fall. I’ve been here before. 
          I feel the urgency to get to mountain once more, before it cozies up beneath its winter blanket. I’ve been here before. 
       I smell the allspice from my mom-mom baking pies in anticipation of Thanksgiving. Mmm, yes I have been here before. 

    I’ve seen the ebb and flow of the seasons, and I am reminded that nothing can stay forever. At this I resign myself to knit caps, hot tea, and backgammon tournaments with my father. I get swept up in reverie about what the coming seasons offer, and reminisce over my fortunes from the most recent. 

    My work is seasonal. The life of a gypsy allots opportunities to experience remote and exotic locations, meet diverse and energetic friends, and constant transition to new stations. I’ve already moved on from my magic summer in Montana, but I held tight to the idea ‘my Montana’ had not yet transitioned. Until recently, my companions could still be found preparing gear and playing guitar Monday nights in the St. Regis bunk house. But just like the leaves from the cottonwood across the street, slowly we are letting go, letting the wind carry us on to new adventures. A year from now we will all be gone, but I hope we will be in better places. Places where maples leaves decorate tailgates, and sled dogs howl at the full moon. Maybe this time we’ll say, “I’ve never been here before”.