Saturday, April 22, 2006

sabado, 22 abril

hmmm. saturday now. san pedro seems worlds away and a lifetime ago. the capital is very urban. both modern and anachronistic. parts of it feel very much like the 1950’s, but some of it feels like the seventies and some is right up to date, but with a central american twist. a lot of the businesses and brands that advertise on the signs are US companies. the clothes sold on the street mostly have catchy english phrases or American name brands – either actual or knock off, depending on the brand mostly I think, but if you want something designerish you can pretty easily get it.

also dvd’s and cd’s are everywhere as are lots of food choices if you’re willing to eat carne o pollo, which so far I’m not, but I’ve been really considering it. I looked around yesterday and couldn’t find any nearby restaurants that had a non-meat dish. today I expanded my search and tried to hunt up a vegetarian restaurant that was listed in my guidebook, but it musta moved or been closed on saturday… which seems like a strange idea, but a lot of the shops and restaurants are closed today. I’m not sure what to expect for tomorrow.

I got up bright and early after a really great night’s sleep. I was exhausted last night, after a few nights of revelry in san pedro, followed by the four hour tight squeeze busride here and then a day with little to eat – there is a grocery store down the street, and I think that’ll end up being my solution, I’ll just buy something there and bring it back to my room. anyway, last night was an early one. thought briefly about going out exploring and trawling for edible vegetarian food, but then it started pouring down rain and that made my decision for me. I don’t know how long the rain lasted, but I was asleep when it stopped. I woke up to a bright morning pouring in through the skylight at around 6:30 local time.

I should’ve gone out to breakfast. it was silly not to, because it’s probably the one meal that I could find a meatless version of, but it was too late by the time I realized my mistake. the thing was, I was in a bit of a hurry, and at that point was more optimistic about finding options. my plan was to walk to the popol vuh museum, which houses (according to the lonely planet, and I’ve no reason to mistrust them) the country’s best collection of mayan artifacts. it’s located all the way across town on the grounds of the universidad francisco marroquin in zona 10 (my room is in zona 1). on saturdays the museum is only open from 9am – 1pm, so I wanted to try to get there as early as I could. thinking the walk might take me as much as two hours, I wanted to get an early start. I really figured I could walk it in an hour and a half, but figured I should allow for confusion (which, of course, I’m prone to) as it turned out, I made it there in just a little more than an hour, maybe an hour exactly, whatever it was, I had plenty of time to read while I waited, but no place close by to get some desayuno.

the museum was great, very educational and inspiring. the explanatory cards that accompanied the pieces were in both Spanish and English, so I was able to practice my translating abilities as I went along. learned some interesting things about the jaguar and the maize gods, I particularly liked the depictions of the maize god with a corncob growing up out of his head, and also of him emerging (being born out of) the jaguar god’s mouth – that’s some good stuff! they also had a really interesting collection of ancient clay whistles in interesting shapes (animals, humans, plants) including one double sort of vessel that when one side was filled, the sculpted bird on the other side would whistle because it was constructed in such away that the process of filling woud force the air out – I guess you probably had that figured and didn’t really think it was just magic… of course maybe it is, I didn’t see/hear it demonstrated… I’m just guessing myself.

after the popol vuh, I let the lonely planet talk me into checking out the museo ixchel, next door. the authors loved it and said it was a must see, but I was pretty unimpressed. the only worthwhile thing about going was that if I hadn’t, I woulda felt like I’d missed out on something… so I guess that itself was worth the 25Q.

from there I retraced my steps back to the hotel room, which is in a building that reminds me of the kind of place mickey spillane or mike hammer would’ve lived in LA in the fifties. big, airy, dilapidated, with sitting areas and a bar downstairs. the room is the nicest that I’ve had in Guatemala, with a dresser with a mirror, two end tables and a queen sized bed. it came with a roll of toilet paper, a small bar of soap and a towel. the bathroom is just close enough and the shower is warm. it’s three times the price of my room in san pedro, but even at that it’s only a seventh of what my rent in Venice was… so that puts thing in perspective I guess.

I’ve spent the afternoon so far, exploring the city to the north of the hotel. the plaza de la constitución is there as is (I had hoped) a veggie restaurant. instead I just wandered around the plaza and through the stalls along the street selling various things. I checked in at one store that sells cameras to see if they had the memory card I need, but they didn’t… too bad really, because there’s a lot of things to take pictures of – good graffiti and signage all over the place. I never found the restaurant – I guess I mentioned that already, but I did finally give in and buy some papas fritas on the street.

tomorrow I’m going to walk even further – to zona 13, and go to the zoo and the museo arqueología y etnología, which, I just discovered when I looked in the book to check my spelling, is the home of the largest collection of mayan artifacts, although apparently they’re not well labeled, which is where the popol vuh gets the advantage on them – so popol vuh isn’t the biggest, but is thought to be better, if I have it right, which I might not. anyway, it should be a good outing.

my knees feel good, but my back hurts – in case you were wondering. my stomach feels great, if a bit empty. maybe this little enforced fast is being good for me.

the photos are leftovers from san pedro, just included here because it just seems better to have something other than words to look at___actually, it looks like no pics today. the place I found yesterday where I could plug in my laptop, was closed early today, which makes tomorrow not look promising. the good news is that I found a place where I can plug in and post this, but photos seem like too much to ask. oh well, that's more for later since the hopes of finding a memory card look pretty dim too.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

martes, 18 abril

today is my sister’s birthday. happy birthday liz!

the great san francisco earthquake occurred one hundred years ago today (my father, I believe has just recently delivered a talk, taking that event as its topic – I wish I’d been there). 231 years ago tonight, paul revere made his famous ride. my sister had nothing to do with either of these two events… as far as I know.

the weather is overcast and the town is quiet, having been abandoned by most of the holiday revelers and tourists. I’ll take it for now - it’s a pleasant relief, although departure is in the air, and as soon as I figure out the best way to do so I’ll get back on my way. this has been a pleasant way to spend a few weeks, the time has flown by slowly, like honey spilling from a jar… well no, not really like that at all, but you know what I mean, slow to experience but quick when recalled… like life itself, and with none of that sticky mess on the floor that you get with the spilt honey.

went out for a nice pasta dinner last night at a new place that I hadn’t been to before. it was very nice. lots of veggies on the pasta__ snow peas and portabella mushrooms that I wouldn’t’ve guessed could be found around here.

this morning of course, I had my breakfast at shanti shanti, overlooking the lake. the ingredients of the fruit salad are unpredictable from day to day, but always include some combination of watermelon, cantaloupe, pineapple, and banana. today it was cantaloupe and banana, which to my taste is the best of the combinations. eating breakfast is (always, I guess, but especially so at shanti shanti) an everchanging, everdifferent experience__ unique like a sunset or the view through a kaleidoscope. but it’s a creative act (even if consumption is at its heart), like painting a picture, or how I would imagine it would be to compose a piece of music… or maybe it’s more like the collaboration of two chess players. the game begins with the same series of moves that begins every game, but quickly, and almost magically, it deviates from previous paths through the exponentially expanding potential options.

the plate arrives along with the bread basket and coffee. the waitress, who is busy with work and obligations, is seldom as consistent with the early stages of this game, as I am, but her innocence and beauty make it forgivable in her. she sometimes sets the coffee down to my left and the plate to my right. sometimes it’s the reverse. usually the bread is opposite the coffee, but sometimes they are adjacent. regardless of her placement however, I invariably wait politely until she departs (not wanting her to, in anyway, think I’m disapproving) and then reposition each element in my preferred manner – which I believe dates back to the way she happened to place them my first morning here. this is as simple for me as positioning the pawns on the second row, the rooks on the corners and the queen on her own color. so, once the coffee is to the right and the bread to the left, and the plate between them and rotated so that the eggs are at seven o’clock, the play can begin.

a covered dish with sugar is on the table, in the middle next to a small vase with one purplish flower. I remove the lid and uncover the sugar. I feel a sense of urgency, knowing that this necessary first step must be performed quickly. I am aware of my responsibility, my obligation, my debt to future breakfast eaters. I must get a half teaspoonful of sugar into my coffee before any flies land in the sugar bowl. this is sort of a sacred duty and one I take seriously and can proudly state, one that I have never failed to perform successfully… it only just now occurs to me that it’s possible that others haven’t always obliged themselves in this same manner, and that possibly the sugar has been tainted through the complicity of their negligence and the flies’ diligence… but no! that cannot be, look at the purity of the sweet stuff – surely nothing has touched it but the clean stainless steel of the spoon.

this sugar is not like the sugar we have back home. not like the seemingly unnaturally white stuff that comes in the paper packets with the historical facts or homey greetings printed on it, not even like the brownish golden stuff that comes in the natural looking packets made out of 100% post-consumer paper product, or is at least colored to make me think it is – both the paper and the sugar looking very natural, like they come from santa barbara or one of those places up north (from an LA perspective you know), although I’ve been told that neither really is any more natural than the other stuff, and that the startlingly white stuff is closer to the truth___ the important thing of course being to steer clear of anything in a pink or blue wrapper. no this sugar is sort of off white, like the faded fabric of your grandmothers wedding dress, it’s a whiteness you can trust, not so ostentatiously white that you think it must be fake (even if it isn’t) and not so tainted that you wonder if perhaps the flies have gotten to it afterall, this is a white that announces itself as being beyond suspicion, unsullied by industrialization, bleaching agents, deceptive marketing strategies and prepackaging… and as such, it is the kings pawn to k4, of my breakfast ritual.

I daintily (yes “daintily” do you have a problem with that?) dip my tiny spoon into the sugar. I sprinkle its contents into my coffee, as if I’m sewing seed in an early vangogh painting (or is that millet?), aiming for a uniform dispersal and hoping my seeds descend slowly, because I must set down the spoon and replace the lid (both actions being done with my left hand) before the flies realize the sweet treasure has been left unguarded. that accomplished, my left hand returns to the spoon, while my right hand reaches for the tiny pitcher of milf (leche, we call it) which holds just enough to raise the coffee level one centimeter and turn it the perfect shade of brown (like the skin of a certain girl I used to know) as I stir it in. I do this in the same order everyday, partly because I theorize that it is better to put the sugar into the hot coffee so that it dissolves more readily before the temperature is cooled by the milk. in truth, the coffee is seldom so hot and the milk never so cool as to make any difference, but often it is preferable (simply for the sake of pleasure and security) to hold to our traditions even in the face of their lack of firm foundation.

so up until this point in my breakfast, I have relied on previously determined decisions, I have followed the tried, the trusted, the true (one hopes) path. the preparation of the coffee is the equivalent of the kings pawn move already mentioned, followed by the opposing pawn meeting it, followed by my knight threatening the opposing pawn… but what comes next?… the canvas is stretched and primed (I’m switching metaphors, but stay with me) now I must paint the picture. I glance up, and take in the view… this in itself becomes the next move, the first brushstroke. breakfast is not simply about taking in food, it is about taking in sights, scents, inspirations. so I look out over the lake. I notice the color of the water and the patterns made by the natural ripple of waves are met by the contrasting angle of the wake (is that the right word) left by a boat arriving from (perhaps) panajachel. I notice the lovely blue of the water close to me and wonder about the brownishness of it further away, and then realize that it’s caused by the reflection of the bare hill rising above the opposite shore. it takes much less time to see all that than it does to type it all out or, I imagine, to read it all in (we know my typing skills are not worldclass, and I imagine you’re all savoring these words, or at least stumbling over the awkwardly constructed phrases and incessant parenthetical interruptions) and so only a second or two have passed. my gaze falls to the plate as my left hand, having returned the spoon to it’s place on the saucer next to the cup, reaches for the napkin-wrapped knife and fork which were delivered atop the basket of bread. I unroll them and, placing the napkin in my lap, set them to the side of my plate while I make my first choice. the options are suddenly myriad. I could butter a slice of toast and place it beneath the eggs. this will have to be done before I begin eating the eggs, but there is nothing that says that my first bite need be egg, so I can put it off, if I choose. I could take the fork and spear a chunk of melon, and if so, ought it to be cantaloupe or water? (this morning, as I mentioned above, there was none of the latter, so that decision would’ve been made for me) I could have a sip of coffee, I could, but rarely do this early in the meal, butter and jam (strawberry, the perfect amount in a small ceramic dish placed on the plate, but at some point usually relocated by me). I could take the jam dish and place it someplace else, freeing up workspace on the plate, and often uncovering a small bed of shredded carrot. I could have a bite of shredded carrot, or a cucumber slice.

once the early decisions are made, a pattern generally seems to become established… a rhythm develops and the meal flows. one flavor suggests another, the warm saltiness of a bite of egg suggests the complimentary possibilities of a cucumber disk or piece of melon. the necessity of chewing might lend itself to the taking a moment to contemplate the lake, the sound of laughter from below the ledge, where women are washing clothes might break my revery enough to remind me that I wanted a sip of coffee. towards the end, consideration often falls to the balancing and combining of the elements__ a tomato slice and onion sliver, carefully balanced on an ideally sized square of toast and egg. and finally the anticipation and necessary planning of the ultimate morsel__ toast with jam? or is that two sweet? maybe some melon, or how about cucumber today? but finish the eggs while you think about it and then go with your gut (if you see what I mean). so, one thing leads to another and the course of the meal takes on a character of its own, resulting in an experience with familiar and general similarities to previous meals, but unlike any that have come before in the details. that’s what makes breakfasts and sunsets and people and the days of our lives themselves such beautiful and fascinating things.

well, ok maybe I do have a bit too much time on my hands afterall, huh?!

Monday, April 17, 2006

sabado, 15 abril

happy birthday den, you’ve caught up to me again.

nothing much goin’ on, laid around in the hammock reading a tom robbins book (villa incognito) it’s not bad, but sorta the same old stuff. I think it just doesn’t quite live up to the captain corelli quality. but it’s fun to read and he is pretty clever, and what else have I really got to do?

the thing is, that for the past few years I’ve really been trying to live the life that I felt like I ought to be living, and I liked it, and a lot of the life overlaps with the kind of life I’d choose to live, but I think that by the time I get back from Guatemala I’ll be able to fully live my life again. it feels good to simply know what I want to do from moment to moment, and have the freedom to act on my choices.

domingo, 16 abril

happy easter… pascua de resurrectión, according to my dictionary, but I haven’t heard anybody say it… it’s more likely that they just mention the whole semana santa thing rather than just the day at the end. it’s a huge gathering, but things are kinda quieting down. pretty revelrous last night, but everybody up this morning for the procesión.

I finished villa incognito and then got back to work on studying/reviewing Spanish, which I’ve kinda been neglecting this week. d’noz, the bar/library where I’ve been borrowing the books I’ve been reading, is closed on sunday, as are the other places where books can be found, so if you finish reading one on a sunday, you’re pretty much out of luck until monday morning. just as well really, it’s good to have an excuse to get out of the hammock every once in awhile. I probably exaggerate the time spent lazing around reading, it is quite a bit, but I get out for a couple walks every day and spend a good amount of time mingling and exploring… nevertheless, the hammock is awfully nice.

as I was reading earlier (and it might have had something to do with the book more than the holiday, but the train of thought wasn’t clear, so who I can’t say) I was suddenly filled with an epiphanously elevating feeling, as I’d suddenly been absolved of and released from all guilt… the kind of guilt that you don’t even know that you’re carrying around until you notice its absence. it felt great, like I could do no wrong, like I was immune to life’s ills, like everything was ok, like maybe there was a savior that had actually died for my sins… so I guess this easter thing is an alright holiday afterall.

Cyril and Annette left yesterday and the new couple that took their room is from germany and not real personable… oh well, can’t win them all, and I’ve had pretty good luck with neighbors so far.

tonight I’ll head up to the allegre for the pub quiz, should be fun.

lunes, 17 abril

the allegre was fun last night. I’m really gonna miss this place when I leave. I’ve stuck around long enough to get pretty comfortable, and to have met enough people to sorta feel a part of things. in Antigua, I mostly just got to know other travelers, who were all transiently on their own schedules, but here there are a lot of people who live here, ao they’re more permanent, feels more like your leaving… oh well, it’s been nice being here, but it will be good to move on. my trip is half over now… it’s flown by, and yet seems like I’ve been gone for ages… I’ll bet the next month and a half really goes by quickly though.

the town is quiet again, and probably no moreso than the first week, but after all the festivities from last week, things seem very tranquil. very few people on the street, not much noise, it’s very nice really.

the german couple left this morning and have been replaced by an equally uncommunicative guy. maybe he’ll open up a bit if he sticks around. Stephanie leaves tomorrow for Honduras, I hope whoever moves into her room is fun, but if not it’ll make moving on by the end of the week that much easier.

there’s an interesting balance that must be struck between seeing both sides of a situation and nevertheless being willing to choose an opinion… the trick is to enjoy the decision making process and not to take things too seriously. I guess it involves a willingness to be wrong too.

Friday, April 14, 2006

viernes, 14 abril

well, it seems like I’ve lost a few days to distraction and a disinclination to simply repeat the same old things. things have been pleasantly and relaxingly routine and more or less uneventful enough to allow me to relatively guiltlessly ignore my blogging obligations. however, it being the end of the week and a beneficent opportunity for writing, I’ll try to catch things up a bit.

if my grandmother was still alive, today would be her birthday, and I believe it would’ve been her 99th, but I’m uncertain of her age, because it was never a topic on which she was prone to elaboration.

in addition to that, today is also good friday, which must mean that one thousand nine-hundred and seventy-seven years ago today (give or take) jesus was nailed to a cross up on Golgotha hill where he later died for our sins, spent the weekend going to hell and back, then he returned to his tomb from where, sometime that sunday, he ascended to heaven, taking his body with him.

the locals love this holiday. the mayans were reportedly readily able to embrace jesus as one of their own when the Spaniards introduced Christ to them half a millennium ago. this was partly due (according to something I think I read somewhere, but forgive me if my faulty memory has mangled it) to the Spanish clergy who, in the interest of assimilation, allowed for a relatively liberal interpretation of scripture by these new converts, and also partly due to the similarities in the existing mayan belief system and symbology, to that of the Christians. the mayan people believed that they had been created by a combination of corn and water, and as corn people, they could easily follow the idea of a springtime death and resurrection. they also had from what I recall, a four pointed conception of the cosmos and cardinal directions, symbolized as a cruciform world tree, which apparenty allowed the Christian cross to seem familiar to them also and thereby embraced and understood, when the Spaniards arrived bearing that. the maya also had various blood letting ceremonies and so the last supper thing was right up their alley too. these days, not only are most of the walls decorated with pro-christian slogans (and a few anti-gringo/americano ones) but also it’s rare to see a pick-up that does not have decaled a Christian themed message on the upper part of its windshield___ and last weekend, most vehicles sported palm fronds tied to grills, wipers, rearview mirrors, door handles, handle-bars, and any other spot available. as I’ve mentioned before, I like the way the guatemaltecos enjoy their religion… even if it doesn’t quite satisfy all my theological hopes and expectations.

the festivities here in san pedro will be pretty subdued compared to what goes on in Antigua, but so will the crowds, which is why my craving for tranquility has led me here. however things are lookink more and more like the Venice boardwalk out there, completed with conga drums, fire spinners, jugglers, hippies, and of course stalls selling trinkets and t-shirts.

so let’s see, apparently I posted the last entry on monday. that evening I went up to the allegre, had a few beers, and watched narnia on their rooftop screen. you wouldn’t ordinarily think of coming to Guatemala for the movies, or at least I wouldn’t, but it seems that this is the place to come, to catch up on American cinema. several of the bars show nightly movies, simply exhibiting the dvd, projected onto a homemade screen. clearly that intimidating fbi/Interpol warning is not nearly so intimidating from a Guatemalan viewpoint.

narnia really wasn’t too good, I thought__ but for that reason I was all the more glad to have watched it down here for the price of the beer I accompanied it with. the following night or maybe wednesday(?) I saw walk the line, about johnny cash, a d’noz__ I liked that one much more.

I’ve seen a couple other movies and read several books here, as I’ve mentioned this place really lends itself to a sort of decadent relaxation, which I’ve mostly interpreted to be a lot of reading and talking (but mostly with fellow English speaking travelers, so my Spanish is kinda getting neglected). I just today finished reading captain corelli’s mandolin, which I really enjoyed. I’ve read some mediocre things recently too, but even those seem to have wonderful little insights hidden within them that make them worthwhile reads.

the current batch of neighbors include Cyril and Annette. He’s French and spent five years in the military in Africa, and she’s from Sweden. he eventually got into a motorcycle accident which caused him to spend a year in a wheelchair and abandon his military career, but is now fully recovered and has largely embraced a more pacifistic way of life, but definitely has been able to express some interesting responses to my questions about violence, which he sees as a necessary and important side of humanity.

the bartenders at the allegre have all learned my name, which I have to confess, I find irresistibly endearing, which leads me to spend more evenings there than I might have otherwise. nevertheless, despite the ideal nature of my circumstances here, I think I’ll be more than ready to move on by sometime next week. as the crowds gather however, I’m very glad that I found a comfortable spot in which to ride out the semana santa, because judging by the number of travelers stopping in here looking for lodging, I think rooms are hard to find and at a premium. and with lots of tourists, as well as many locals on holiday, I think that’s the case pretty much throughout the country.

I’ll try to get backing the swing of daily entries – although maybe those are too long-winded to make for interesting reading anyway, although I think I’ll be glad later to have the writtrn record of thoughts… if I ever bother to reread them.

Monday, April 10, 2006

sabado 8 abril,

if arbitrary color usage is not really arbitrary… then are arbirtrary decisions in general really arbitrary either? does arbitrariness really exist? and if it doesn’t does that change the nature of the decisions we’ve been attributing to it all along. are human beings capable of discarding both rhyme and reason, and operating nonsensically, amorally, and randomly, without intent or agenda? it seems that we’re not. so maybe the focus should turn to what motivators lead to the decisions we make, rather than to simplistically attributing arbitrariness as being our only catalyst.

I remember in an art history class once___ I’m pretty sure it was judy george who was teaching it, she was discussing the fauves and she used the term arbitrary color usage. that phrase just didn’t ring true to me; those painters were clearly making color choices based on something – there was an esthetic intent that was apparent and revealed a certain consistency that belied arbitrariness. the phrase stuck with me though, and at times it irritated me because it seemed like such a lack of appreciation for what the fauves were doing, at other times however, it inspired me to try to pursue the achievement of arbitrariness… what if I could liberate myself from intention and reason?

I think however there is always a reason and perhaps, always a purpose behind the decisions we make, but these are not always (if ever) readily perceivable… the trick (and maybe the obligation) then is to see through the veil of obscurity and identify the causative elements.

this applies to why derain painted the way he did, as much as to why terrorists, presidents, and ceo’s do the things they do. and of course, why I am doing this right now… and why I will choose to do that later.

the day was pretty low key. it was cooler than usual and overcast, I spent most of it reading in the hammock, just wandering out occasionally for supplies.

domingo 9 abril,

is that true? I guess it is. seems like it must be later than just the 9th of april, time is going by wonderfully slowly here… I wonder if I’ll be able to keep it at this pace when I return… probably not.

it’s a shame… well, not really a shame, more of a drag, I guess__ about my camera. both because I keep seeing things I’d like to photo, and because I wanted to stop off in Antigua at the end of may and give it to alejandra as a thank you and going away present… maybe I can find a memory card… seems that giving it to her without one would sorta be worse than not giving it to her at all. hmmm.

my digestive system doesn’t quite feel right, and I’d blame it on Guatemala, but it was acting up before I left Venice, so that wouldn’t seem fair. hard to tell whether it’s gotten worse or is simply not getting better. I don’t think there’s much I can do from here though, and it’s not really that bad, just a little off. some days moreso than others.

I wonder if there’s anyway we could fix our failing political system. the very fact that bush could get elected___ the first time through deceit, and political manipulation, and the second time simply through the stupidity, fear, and prejudice of the constituency, who it appears did actually vote him into office that time___ shows that there is clearly something very wrong in our decision making process. the system is fallible and prone to foul play, and voters are easily misled. if we could somehow limit campaigning to written statements outlining intentions and platforms and then somehow hold elected officials accountable to their expressed intentions. it would be interesting to see what would happen if names and photos of the candidates were withheld… would women, blacks and other under-represented groups be more likely to win elections? it seems that people base many of their decisions on unimportant factors, but then__ who am I to say? maybe those choices are just as legitimate, or more so, as the ones based on the criteria I value… people voting for a president because they like the way he looks, or because they trust him to protect them might be operating more accurately (even if that leads them to choose somebody like bush) than somebody trying to weigh a candidate’s potential job performance and political tilt.

how does this relate to the arbitrariness question from yesterday? and the continuing theme of decisiveness in the face of overwhelming opportunities/options?

there are many less successful forms of government than what we have in the us, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have plenty of room for improvement… and it doesn’t mean we can’t look to other countries (denmark, norway, even canada) for ideas.

that’s enough for now… it’s still early and time for breakfast. I wish you were here and we could all have breakfast together at shanti shanti and look out over the lake on this lovely spring morning.


this is the view from the breakfast table at shanti shanti.


lunes, 10 abril

well, that is good news. I’d forgotten that I wrote yesterday morning, but I knew I hadn’t written last night, so I was thinking I was a bit further behind than I am. but here it is monday afternoon and I’m sorta caught up and all.

last night I went up to the allegre. I had run into anna the bartender earlier in the day while I was out for a walk and she was on her way to work. she mentioned the sunday night trivia quiz, so I decided to check it out. I did alright, with a little help from udi, but didn’t win the prize (beer). it seems the strategy is to form bigger teams, and I hadn’t caught onto that, so I just sat at the bar and answered what I knew and took udi’s advice when it sounded better than anything I had. it was fun, and due to the odd system of specials that they have there, I managed to drink four beers for the price of two, so it was quite an evening. udi, bytheway, is a friendly guy from tel aviv who I was thinking I’d mentioned in an earlier entry, but now I realize that maybe that was in an email to aliza, who is herself, currently in tel aviv, I believe (good rhyme, huh?!) anyway it was a fun evening, but resulted in my neglecting to write.

today, has been pretty relaxing. a couple walks, a lot of hammock time, some conversation with my new neighbors, as well as the remaining old one. I think I might go ahead and post this today, the internet place is closed on sundays, so I didn’t go up there yesterday, I’m thinking it might be worthwhile to relax and take my time and get caught up as far as the internet goes, a bit today. I usually try to get in and out of there in fifteen minutes, which is enough time to check email and glance at headlines, but loading the blog (at least with photos) takes longer… enjoy the pics now though, they’re gonna be running out soon, I fear.

speaking of reading the headlines, I’m heartened by the cia leak implications for both bush and cheney___ having just read that Nixon book I think I’ve mentioned, it’s clear that they had less on Nixon than they do on these guys and we know how that turned out… it’ll be interesting to see whether things fall apart as quickly for them as they did for Nixon once they start to slide downhill… I’ll be down here with fingers crossed, although still not holding my breath… one never knows, you know.

Friday, April 07, 2006

martes 4 abril

martes 4 abril

I did all my really productive work this morning before I got up. hmmm. there’s not a lot of point to getting going before seven down here… don’t know if there ever is elsewhere either, unless you’ve got cows to milk… but I often am awake before that, and have tried starting the morning early, but the reassuring truth seems to be that just about everything can wait until after seven___ and, the breakfast spot I’ve mentioned doesn’t open until then and even if it did, it would be too chilly for comfort, the sun not having ascended above the volcano. I just mention this, because all of these factors were playing a role as I lay there deciding to keep my eyes closed and my body buried beneath my cozy blankets, while I gave consideration to our world, our concerns, and my future paintings this morning. the question that was in my mind, as I slowly slalomed back and forth between wakefulness and not, was this – when did the violence start? if you’ve been reading this, you know that my thoughts have been turning to “violence” lately and I’ve spent a fair amount of time considering its nature, and the role it plays in the way human beings live and interact. so, this morning, I finally got around to wondering about it’s roots. at what point did man first turn his aggression against his fellow man? at one point in our evolution did violence move from hunting to killing/murder? early on assuredly. chimpanzees have wars if I remember my jane goodall accurately, and on that point, I’m sure I do. I’m not sure if they eat the victims, but as I recall___ whether or not they do, the observations miss goodall made, made it clear that these were wars (I think territorially related – don’t quote me on that though) not hunting expeditions. so we can guess that proto homo sapiens, and probably even proto hominids had developed violent traits which they inflicted on their own species for reasons other than cannibalism. what about other animals?… I don’t know… what drives them to violence?… is it only predation? I don’t know… but I’m getting ahead of myself, I probably ought to do you a favor and rewrite these things sometime, so it wouldn’t be all jumbled up and disorganized… I’m sure you’re all skimming over this stuff anyway, looking for the action… “yeah, yeah, joe, enough of this pondering mankind’s inhumanity, what about the girls, man, the girls?”

anyway, as I was lying there with my eyes closed this morning, and thinking about the roots of violence, I suddenly laughed out loud at the startling (to me, anyway) realization of the archetypal story related to this question. I’ve spent most of the past two and a half years contemplating eve and the significance of that story, and her character, to our contemporary emotional being. and now, having completed that to a degree that allows me to move on, I’ve spent the last couple months focusing more and more on why we as humans seem intent on hurting each other and exerting our influence through violent means… these two themes, on first inspection, would seem to be worlds apart from each other___ and they definitely seemed so to me (and I was pretty smugly pleased with the breakaway step I was taking to tackle such an unrelated topic) until of course this morning when, in a flash, it dawned on me that I had only moved as far as from the apple and expulsion, to the violence and aggression of eve’s male offspring. cain’s killing of his brother is of course where my theme begins. so I really don’t seem to have leaped very far at all. and not only that, but I seem to be simply treading a path that is so well beaten that it’s written right into our cultural texts… makes me really wonder what a slave I am to this paradigm I’ve grown up with… and whether there’s any way to break free… and for that matter, any need to…

and it doesn’t mean that the Christians don’t still piss me off when I read the news__ not to mention those others of us that trace our common cultural roots back to eve and the boys___ and let’s remember that the impetus of this whole line of questioning were those Christians in northern Africa (right before I headed down here and began my current neglect of current events) who went on a rampage, rioting and killing the muslims that had gone on a rampage, rioting and killing the Christians because of pent up anger and frustration unleashed by a series of Danish cartoons… hmmm, well more of that later. for now, I think I’ll call it a night… well, not a night, but a late afternoon early evening, time for a beer and a movie sorta thing.

I hope you are all anger and fear free and enjoying a peaceful period of non-violence.

buenas noches.

miercoles, 5 abril

of course I’ve been thinking about this violence thing for longer than just two months, but it’s only been recently that it’s moved to the forefront of my thoughts, so to speak.

it wasn’t really until shortly after the world trade centers were destroyed that I recognized the extent of my pacifism. so many people, even in Venice, were filled with a sort of fear-driven furor, calling for a violent response to that violent act. I remember being immediately and completely certain that there was no way that violence would solve the problem and no justification for retaliation. I’m still shocked by the fact that never has anybody in a position of leadership looked for the underlying motive and cause of the wtc attack. dismissing it as an act of “evil doers” and then looking no further into it, is so childishly simplistic to me that it’s done more than anything else to disillusion me about the abilities of our leaders.

so, the northern africa thing after the danish cartoon riots was really just the culminating event… the straw breaking the bactrian back perhaps, or possibly the broken back itself… I guess the camel back was my unconscious awareness of all this violence which had become overfilled and needed to burst like over-filled balloon or floodgate – choose you simile… either way the stupidity of it all finally proclaimed itself to my consciousness along with the apparent inseparability of humanity and self immolating violence. earlier and heavier straws had already been loaded; the war to root out the mythic wmd’s or the destruction of the wtc, or maybe we can trace straws throughout our collective history all the way back to abel and cain, but somewhere along the line violence began and then sometime later, I took notice of it and wondered why it keeps recurring, despite it’s lack of success… why do we repeat the same unsuccessful cycles over and over again? that’s the question… and of course the even bigger one is… must we continue? is violence an essential and inseparable human trait or can we out grow it? the obvious answer is that it could never be eradicated, but on closer thought, I know a lot of people, who in normal circumstances are not prone to violence… there are factors that lead human beings to violence… can we do away with violence by doing away with those causative factors? maybe so.

gonna go over to a place called the allegre pub… maybe tomorrow I’ll write about something more interesting… and then again, maybe not.

jueves, 6 abril

just as I was thinking that maybe no clarity was going to come during my waking ritual this morning, my thoughts wandered back to the question of poverty and opportunity that I think I at least mentioned some time ago in this blog (just did a quick search for the keyword “options” and found it at the bottom of the 21 marzo entry). the crux of the problem was the relationship between the wealth of options balanced against the burden of choosing among them in our pursuit of the most worthwhile existence. the solution seems (and has to me for quite awhile) to point toward the necessity for arbitrary decision making and making the most out of whatever situation those arbitrary decisions plunk you down in, but the chaotic and pointless nature of that viewpoint doesn’t rest easily with me because it leads too readily towards hopelessness and nihilism.

but this morning there was a bit of clarity and let me see if I can backtrack a bit and try retracing my thoughtsteps.

  1. lack of money (physical wealth) is often seen as a direct cause of unhappiness

  2. this is as fallacious as the commonly held belief that the presence of money (physical wealth) is a direct cause of happiness.

  3. because of these two beliefs, people often try to acquire money in order to attain happiness, and they try to avoid its lack, for the sake of avoiding unhappiness.

  4. rather than being directly connected to material riches, wealth and poverty are in fact, more closely related to the presence or lack of opportunity and choice.

  5. wealth is the

  6. poverty is the lack of opportunity or the inability to see or act on opportunity.

  7. the confusion that causes the beliefs mentioned in statements 1 and 2 above, is because opportunity often travels hand in hand with physical wealth.

  8. the danger hidden in the beliefs mentioned in statements 1 and 2 above, is the expectation that the acquisition of physical wealth will lead directly to happiness – and the discouragement and disappointment experienced when it doesn’t. similarly there is the dilemma of, the expectation that poverty can be solved with the dispersment of physical wealth alone__ and the related disappointment that accompanies its failure to do so.

  9. so to paraphrase summarily, we have at this point concluded that money cannot buy happiness, but that opportunity can

  10. now the puzzle that I mentioned on march 21st centered around the question of (and if you’ve been following the above statements you’ll see that I’ve already added the necessary qualifiers to solve the puzzle – qualifiers that hadn’t occurred to me a few weeks ago) this; if the presence of opportunity relates directly to happiness (a sense of fulfillment or worth) why is it that an over abundance of opportunity can cause exasperation___ it seemed that too many options simply become overwhelmingly frustrating in the face of the knowledge that they cannot all be pursued.

  11. my realization this morning centered around the idea that opportunity itself is not what brings us wealth, it’s the (as stated in statement 5 above) possession of opportunity along with the ability to perceive and act on that opportunity.

  12. if overwhelmed by too many choices and unable to choose from among them, then we are as impoverished as if we had no choices or awareness of them at all.

  13. we must have the ability to choose decisively in order to attain true wealth (happiness/fulfillment/etc.).

along this line of thought there is also the interesting situation, that I haven’t worked into the above (but is present just slightly beneath the surface), of seeing opportunity held by others (but not by ourselves) and the manner in which that vision affects us. an awareness of others’ opportunities can blind us to our own___ that is the sin of covetousness___ there is of course nothing wrong in covetousness itself, but the discontentedness connected with it stands in the way of our own acquisition of joy. that’s the part of this that I find very important and pertinent, because before coming down here, I felt myself surrounded by discontentedness___ discontentedness seemed to be pandemic throughout my community and the society itself. by coming down here, I hoped to find a society far enough removed from ours that it would exhibit an immunity to the plague of discontentment back home. I was hopeful of this because of the experience of having perceived the people in turkey when I was there, who had been removed from the temptations of western rags to riches dreams, seeming to have a greater degree of contentment than what I was accustomed to witnessing. but having come down here, what I’ve really observed is more discontentment, which I think is probably caused by a combination of limited opportunity combined with (through the presence of tourism and satellite tv) an awareness of the unshared opportunities had by others. I don’t think this makes tourism or satellite tv bad, it simply makes happiness more of a struggle to attain… these obstacles along the road distract us from the destination… or the awareness that we’ve already arrived.

viernes, 7 abril

gerri’s thirty five, paul gritsch is two-fifths that… together they appear to be a perfect square. good thing they’re not together, I guess.

I, on the other hand, am halfway between gerri’s age and her and paul’s combined total… but less than three months away from moving from an age divisible by seven to one that’s only divisible by itself… back into my prime so to speak.

you know, I can’t imagine that the second half of this trip can be as productive as the first… but who knows really what’s to come? I don’t think I really needed the full three months, but I’m glad I’m taking them, if for no other reason than to have had the need to return so distant that it’s given me an unhurried period of reflection.

here I am though, not yet six weeks into my adventure and I’ve pretty much accomplished all (and more) of what I set out to do. significantly, I’ve come to terms with both sex and money issues and feel comfortable and positive with both; I’ve had groundbreaking insights into love and relationships and my own past five years of avoidance; I’ve made outlines of what are likely to be the next two groups of paintings and begun considering how to accomplish those goals profitably; I’ve begun several amusing side projects and have made progress in Spanish__ even if I haven’t attained the level of proficiency I might like…; I’ve read several pretty good books___ it’s been a good period, and I do wonder what the second half of the trip will hold for me___ it will likely be very different, with a lot more moving around and, I suppose, looking into the past… what with mayan ruins and all.

the question I woke up with this morning had to do with why it is that I feel compelled to even puzzle out this violence thing… what draws me to it? and really, the even more compelling question for right now is, what drew me to the eve paintings? I’ve wondered that for quite awhile and still don’t quite feel content with the answer… why do I concern myself with the unhappiness and discontentedness and shame of others?… am I projecting my own unhappiness, etc. onto others and trying to heal myself through them?… I really don’t think that’s it… but am I trying to heal myself through healing them? that might be closer to it and even more embarrassing somehow (did you know that the Spanish verb to become pregnant is embarazar? or that pregnancy is embarazo, and pregnant is embarazada? that’s very strange to me) what am I trying to heal myself from? am I simply tring to find meaning in my life and does some part of me believe that meaningfulness lies hidden in these goals? maybe… maybe… I guess maybe this’ll give me something to ponder during the coming weeks, since I’ve already taken care of all this other stuff.

it wouldn’t hurt me to do some drawing to, I’ve been doing more writing and photoing than drawing since I’ve been down here.

____________________

later, still friday and about to post this. the good news is that I feel quite a bit better today, I don’t think I mentioned thaqt yesterday I was afraid I was coming down with something, but I think it’s an air quality issue rather than a viral one. hard to tell, slight sore throat and a little congestion… but don’t reallt feel sick… although yesterday did feel kinda feverish at one point… oh well, the main thing is that I’ve felt pretty good today.

so that was the good news. the bad news is that my camera is broken, or at least the memory card is kaput. that’s a drag because I’ve really been enjoying taking photos, although I was just mentioning this morning that I ought to be doing more drawing, so maybe that’s the answer… I’ll look into getting a new memory card too though, but that might be tough from down here, I think my card is pretty outdated.

after typing that morning entry above, I went to breakfast and then took a boat over to san marcos, it was lovely and peaceful. I wandered around for awhile, did some exploring and then decided to walk back to san pedro, which took a few hours but was a wonderful adventure. overwhelmingly beautiful… too much to take in really, which was just as well, because for much of the walk it was best to focus on my footing as I sorta blazed a trail along the lakeshore rocks… I managed to stay dry.

stopped off at the café azul to reward myself with an orange crush when I got back to town. now I’m gonna run up to the internet place and post this. I’ll have to start doling out pictures gradually.

Monday, April 03, 2006

miercoles, 29 de marzo

well, I didn’t write last night, and I’m gonna let myself slide on it. the day flew past in a school’s out kindaway. had class, covered the future imperfect, which turns out to be much easier than the others. actually the past imperfect was pretty easy too__ it’s really just all the irregulars, especially with the present (preterate) that are a bit rough, and rougher having been kind of ignored by me lately with all the other info coming so quickly… it’s kind of surprising I remember them as well as I do.

anyway, after class I was filled with the elation of having the day to myself, with no tarea or awareness of class responsibilities for the manana. so, I headed up to the bagel barn to upload this blog one last time before stepping into the unknown connection realm of the lake (see above, of course for that entry). then headed off to café no sé and had two afternoon beers, which was unusually decadent of me, but I felt in a celebratory mood having successfully finished with four weeks class. had a bit of an interesting conversation with a very American-looking and sounding guy, who I overheard mention that he had grown up in Antigua. it turns out that his mother is a mayan archeologist, which I thought was sort of intriguing. he goes to college now in Montana, but is back in Antigua for spring break.

after no sé, I headed home and ate some dinner which amounted to finishing off my left over peanut butter and bread because I didn’t want to pack them or waste them. I had quite a lot of peanut butter because I haven’t been eating it much lately, and quite a lot of bread because that girl has such a great smile. so it was a pretty dense meal which had somewhat interesting digestive results later, but not too uncomfortable. I focused a bit on the salad today though, in order to balance things out.

while eating, I read a little downloaded news, catching up on the demonstrations in LA, the situation in france, the stupid things that bush and blair are saying, and the latest in the moussaoui trial… I should really try to stay away from current events, it’s an unnecessary inclusion to my day and an embarrassing addiction. so, after eating and reading, I decided I had time to write a quick email to liz before going out with my schoolmates for a fairwell fiesta. I typed away with a sort of rambling abandon, letting one thing lead to another and occasionally would glance at the clock to see how I was doing for time… forgetting that the cheap clock I bought for 5Q at the market on my first day in Antigua always stops at 8:10 twice a day. so when I finally finished the email and wondered what I should do with my next fifteen minutes, before I had to leave, I suddenly got a horrible feeling that I was late. which I was, but only by about fifteen minutes and the rest of them were late by twenty, so it all worked out. we had a lovely time and were out past one, and I didn’t get to sleep ‘til well past two, and had to be up by six. so I set the alarm on my reliably unreliable clock and it worked great.

got washed and teethbrushed and dressed, etc in time to get to the park to send the email off to liz. it turns out that 6:15am is a great time for connecting in the park, no glare and a good connection… maybe because of the angle of the sun(?) I dunno – no sé, you know? anyway got such a good connection that I actually got word from my dear but recently silent LA friends, so that was nice… I think maybe this blog is working a bit against me, because people feel kinda caught up with me, but forget that I’m not caught up with them… nevertheless, everything works out in the end, and for my distant (non LA) friends who are used to not being around, everything’s the same as it ever was… I s’pose. even denise says she’s discovering the joys of email… so that is something!

caught the bus uneventfully. foolishly had a cup of coffee before boarding, and three hours later upon arrival in panajachel, was pretty anxious to find a place to pee. got off the bus, walked five minutes more or less in the direction of the beach, found a nice little place for breakfast, ordered some comida and then asked for el baño.

read up on pana in the lonely planet while I waited for my food. after eating, went out in search of a room. turned one down for 50Q, was considering heading back to one I’d seen when I first got off the bus that had a sign saying 40Q, but found one for 35, which suits me fine… and has it’s own bathroom__ with shower (cold water, of course), which is very decadent and sorta unnecessarily wasteful to me after sharing both bathroom and shower for the past four weeks. I’m sure I could get used to it quickly though.

pana seems to be recklessly geared towards the tourist industry… almost to a discouraging degree. it seems to focus on shopping, eating and drinking. I spent the day doing quite a lot of browsing, a fair amount of eating and a little drinking (an orange crush, a bottle of water, and something called a cuba libre, which might’ve been rum and flat luke warm coke with a limeslice… all I’m sorta certain of is the limeslice, but I ordered it, so I drank it. mostly I took photos of the storefronts and shop signs which I love, with any luck they’ll appear along with this when I post this sometime soon, I hope.

I’m calling it an early night now, and going to try to catch up on last night’s missed sleep. finished the Nixon book finally and have begun Eleanor of aquitane, I think I’ll read myself to sleep with her.

domingo, 2 abril

well, I’ve got some more catching up to do. haven’t quite gotten into a post-antigua routing well enough to have kept up on this the past several days, but I think I’m turning the corner on that and will be back into the swing of things and maybe be even more of a regular writer now__ in the coming week anyway.

that last entry was wednesday. thursday morning I got up and went immediately to the pier to catch a boat to san pedro. I arrived and chose the first place to stay that I found for 15Q ($2) a night, so that I could get rid of my backpack and look for a better place in comfort. I had a lead on a place I’d heard about in Antigua, so I set off to look for it, but first looked for breakfast. I found a great place that has a wonderful desayuno especial (15Q before 9 and 20Q after) which I was so pleased with that I took a photo___ which with luck will appear here when I post this. the view from my table was lovely and the coffee was included. I read up a bit on san pedro and then headed off to explore. met a cute little girl who told me her name was lola and a fisherman friend of hers who’s name was renaldo (?). he started to introduce her as something else, but lola is what she wanted to be called and when I run into her on the street now she always greets me kindly with an, “hola jose!” and I reply “hola lola!” which rhymes appealingly, if a little awkwardly. I took photos of each of them and maybe they’ll get posted here also.

I explored the town for awhile, which rises steeply up the slope of the volcano. the touristy lower part of the town quickly gives way to a more expat midlevel and a thoroughly local upper area. the whole place has a wealth of spiritual graffiti covering the walls, some of which I photo’d.

stopped into a restaurant just for some water and spoke with a couple of guys; one from new hampshire, the other from nova scotia. the nova scotian (nova scot?) told me the directions to the place I was looking for and also told me of the place he was staying__ as it turned out, I never found either though.

had a good day of exploration and wound up back at my room after an early evening beer. the room really wasn’t great, with a screaming baby on one side and a congo player on the other and could easily have been enough to convince me to move on to a completely different lakeside town, but I felt I owed this place another chance, and it is beautiful.

the next morning I headed out immediately with a new place in mind and a willingness to try again to find the other places. the new place I’d chosen was full, and I tried another, but it was also filled. looked up the hill a bit, but really kinda had my heart set on the new place, which had some possibility of a vacancy at 11am checkout time, so I decided to have the shanty shanty breakfast special again (it was still before 9) and kill time ‘til 11. the vacancy never appeared, but I walked by a place with a sign out front declaring rooms for fifteen quetzals and I could see it had a shady courtyard with hammocks, so I decided on it (I forgot to mention that the other room had, in addition to all the noise, been oppressively hot). so that was friday morning and I’ve been staying here ever since.

for some unexplained reason, the entire town was without electricity all day friday until about 6pm, so exploring the internet situation was out. just as well, because I had lots more exploring to do. the hospedaja is called casa emmanuel, and I’ve gotten quite skilled at lounging in the hammock. I finished the eleanor of aquitane book and then found a place that for a 50Q deposit and 10Q a week (first week deferred because I donate the eleanor book) will lend books, so I began white teeth, by zadie smith, which it seems was getting a lot of attention a few years ago, but I hadn’t read. the current casa emmanuel guests aside from myself are three girls, two of whom just returned from a month of hitch hiking around Honduras (Rachel, from new Zealand and Rufus from England__ I assume that’s how she spells it, but I hadn’t really considered the feminine form of rufus before, although she wears it well). there’s also a girl from Colorado named samara. they’re all very nice.

this morning I went kayaking with Rachel and that was fun, and a great way to explore the lake. after that it was more laying around in hammocks reading. I’ve been studying a bit of Spanish, but probably not as much as I ought to. nevertheless the time seems to be passing pleasantly and thoughts for the future are continuing to come together.

yesterday, I found a place where I can plug my laptop in and receive email and upload the blog, which is great, because although I can email and blog from any internet place, it’s much nicer to be able to write from the comfort of my room and then just post when I’ve finished rather than having to type while I’m on the clock… performance pressure, you know. anyway, I worked out the system yesterday, which involves getting there right at 6pm to plug in, because there’s only room for one and it’s through a phoneline that’s in use until 6, and the whole place is closed on sunday, so if you’re reading this it must be after 6 on monday… that’s 4 in California, you know.

I’ve had some new thoughts about love and I know they seemed profound when I had them, but I don’t know if I can quite come up with the words right now… but perhaps it has something to do with a wider understanding of it’s nature. already thinking that after painting about violence and socio-ethics, it might be time to return to love… but I do probably need to explore other themes (in the paintings anyway) for the time being…

that’s it for now. I’ll try to write a bit tomorrow either when I post this or before.

lunes, 3 abril

I'm at the internet place and have had an easy day of relaxing and reading, I'm just gonna load a bunch of photos below for your visual entertainment... if all goes well, for the moment this seems like a good connection.




there are more, but they'll have to wait until next time. now, go write me an email. goodnight, it's time for una cerveza, here. oh, bytheway, figured out today that you people are on daylight savings time__ puts me only an hour ahead of LA, but two, behind the other side.