San Cristobal de Las Casas is an incredibly charming place, blending Spanish colonial churches and streets with an indigenous cultural feel, authentic and completely unbearing. It's the sort of place you can get lost in time as you walk the streets, with only the cars or the occasional internet cafe as proof that you haven't somehow slipped back in time. A day in San Cristobal might include...
A ride in a Collectivo. Usually an old converted VW bus, these shared taxis are crammed full of people (locals and travelers alike) as they go about their business through cobblestoned streets and up into the hills.
Walking the city, one is likey to encounter a myriad of colorful walls often sporting graffiti. Strings with colored flags hang overhead, each different according to the neighborhood.
Take a break in a Plaza to get a look at one of San Cristobal's many churches as Mexican lovers take a break on a bench. Here more conventional means of Catholicism take practice, and not so much the ritualistic sacrifice of roosters (as in San Juan Chamula, apparently the rooster seen there was slain about 10 minutes after I left)
Wandering the streets, one sees graffiti but also simple requests "Do not park here, please"
In 1994 a local indigenous rebel group rose up to protest the Mexican government, the signing of NAFTA, and in general fight for indigenous and farmer rights. They occupied San Cristobal for several days and a high spirit of support remains here for the cause.
Much walking around the city will build up an appetite. My favorite? Elote. Boiled corn with Mexican mayonaise (better than in the states, although not as good as Holland, plus with lime!), salt, salsa picante, chile, and cheese. Mmmmm.....
Finish your corn on the cob snack while watching a local Bohemian perform in the town square. This fellow was quite impressive and entertained us with his juggling, gestures, and mystification of kids.
Get back on a walkabout with a visit to a local church (note different colored banners, different neighborhood)
Huff and puff you way up a hill to a church on top, complete with splendid views of the city.
Say hi to "The King of the Mountain" along the way.
Stop in the town square to watch soem gentlemen get their shoes polished.
Or just check out local kid vendors trying to peddle their goods.
And of course, what is a town square without pigeons? And what are pigeons without kids to chase them?
Eventually return home to the hostel at the end of the day for some much needed mutual lovin'. Who wants a buttscratch?
Add this one to the very long list of "The Deification of Michael Jordan" (/ global spread of Americana)(/tacky third world culture) (/only in Mexico) but yes, what we have here is a Jesus Christ bumper sticker combined with the legendary Michael Jordan jumpman pose. Snapped this one on the rear window of a collectivo from San Cristobal de Las Casa up to Zinacantan.
IMG_1359
Canon EOS Rebel T1i
55-250 mm Canon IS lens
F stop: f/8
Shutter: 1/500
ISO 100
When I returned to the States from the Caribbean this past summer I finally pulled the trigger and bought myself a nice fancy camera. I don't really know how to use it all that well just yet, but I've been practicing and starting to take some good shots. But really, more than anything, I think photography is about capturing a moment in time. These moments I'd like to share with you. So, here it is, the start of a series where I'll show you a photo I've taken on my travels and tell you all about it. Still looking for a title to this series, so we'll go with a working one for now, Through the Lens.
We start with a photo above, taken from a beach on Isla Mujeres looking back to Cancun. On this day, I woke up early and made like a baby to head out and do my usual travel thing-meander. And so meander I did and came across this father and daughter fishing from their boat. Along the beach other fishing boats sat idle while their fishermen drank beers nearby. Today was a Sunday during Carnaval and thus a day where fishing is better left to family pursuits or drinking and swapping fish tales. Here we see the former. In the father's hands is a Palometa, and I don't recall whether he kept it or threw it back. The daughter holds out a baited line in anticipation as the father looks on after it. Below is another photo from a few minutes before.
There are times on the road where you can't help but look around and ask yourself... where the hell am I? There are others when the question is 'when' am I? What a unique experience I had today as I roused myself from a very warm bed into the very cold morning air of San Cristobal de Las Casas. Determined to find a worthy market I got my morning going with a (warm! oh thank god) shower and small breakfast before setting out and finding a collectivo to San Juan Chamula, which according to the Lonely Planet All-Knowing-Travel-Bible informed me there was a market to be had in Chamula up in the hills.
So, there I was seated in an old VW bus collectivo (Dad, you'd be jealous) amongst eight or so indigenous folk, one of whom I am positive was purposefully dressed in his Michael Jackson imitation Sunday best. The old bus wound its way up through the hills, stuck in first gear most of the way and as its engined whined I tried my best not to think about how an engine burnout would result in us rolling back into town. After about 25 minutes of passing small farming plots, green with plants or rich red-brown clay that only a masochistic farmer can love, our bus came to a sudden jolting stop in the square of San Juan Chamula. Commence Twilight Zone.
I paid the driver my ten pesos and immediately took in the environment. On a platform at the municipal building side of the square were about 40 men dressed from the ground up in boots, jeans, a white long sleeve collared shirt with a white sheepskin vest over top, secured down by a light brown leather belts with palm sized belt buckles and topped off with immaculately clean cowboy hats. The leader appeared to be at first running a sort of auction, although I could only understand numbers as the rest was conducted in a Mayan dialect unbeknown to my gringo ears. Below them were similarly dressed men but with black sheepskin vests and surrounding them were men dressed in their Sunday best (cowboy hat included) but lacking the vests. An occasional cheer from the crowd was sent up as numbers were read off by the leader as myself and other gringos wandered the square, sneaking in pictures (photos a no-no here) and wondering what the hell was going on. It was, like I mentioned from the start, a question of where am I and when am I? I doubt this tradition had changed much in 100 years. As I was informed by a Spaniard several hours later, this auction was actually the reading of government allocated funds to various communities in the area, leading to quite a few disputes and very angry (or ecstatic) looking groups of men from various nearby pueblos.
I positioned myself in a rotunda and changed over to my 55-200 mm lens. Time for zoom shots from afar. Trying as discretely as possible to take these, I snapped off quite a few before noticing a palomitas (popcorn) vendor about 50 m away. Naturally the boy selling popcorn gave me gringo price (10 pesos, later I saw them sold for 1) despite my talking in Spanish and trying to argue him down to 5. Oh the joy of being able to argue for 40 cents! I settled down with a Coke, out of the bottle- always better, and watched a Catholic/traditional hybrid procession of horse riding and smoke swinging (can a Catholic enlighten me to this one?) as it went around the square. Photography of this was strictly forbidden and while I will bend in some cases to get some great shots, this was not one of them. But, I assure you it was quite a sight and worth seeing one day.
I continued to wander around the square, observing old Mayan women selling scarves and necklaces as young whippersnappers set off bottle rockets from their hands into the sky. Sometimes their aim was bad and the rockets were more horizontal than vertical but I am still in one piece (although I am expecting another to come flying in to the hostel at any moment, quite a few going off outside... wisssshheeewwwwww BAM!). I bought a half a chicken, cooked over a grill for 25 pesos ($2) and then chopped into pieces and sat by the square to continue observing this local political happening. Determined to find the market after my meal, I wandered up the hill, stopping to buy a nice blue scarf for 50 pesos, eventually stumbling upon about 20 vendors of fruits, dried fish, and snails (noooo! not this time, thank you for that lesson Morocco. Review here, here, and here). Not quite the market I had hoped for and made my way back down the hill to the square.
But what do you know greets me? The entire square of men, led by the white vests and followed by the rest coming en mob up the hill. I had some warning for this shot, and once again switched over to BIG lens and snapped a few. Very much reminded me of that movie with Johnny Depp in Mexico and Day of the Dead and ... (Emily help me out here!). I let them pass by and on to their business and walked down to the square, encountering Pippa, an English lass from my hostel in Playa and her two Dutch friends along the way. They wanted to eat and naturally being the travel-food-fatty that I am, joined them in their quest. We sat down at a taco joint on the side of the square and were joined moments later by a threesome of very poor sibling kids who asked us for 'Uno dos peso' but settled for tacos and playfully posed for our foreign cameras. Yet another beauty of blonde women is the reaction foreign kids give them as they play with Dutch and English and even my, yes, my blonde locks. I had mine up in a bun (hmmm... will need new diction to describe my hairstyle du jour) and they wanted to play with it but told them 'Es la casa de mi cerebro' at which point they backed away, not wanting to upset the house of my brain.
Post lunch, we found a bathroom (always interesting bathrooms in Mexico) where you paid 2 pesos and tried not to slip in pools of human excrement on the way in or out. Pippa and I set off to take a look inside the church as the Dutch girls headed out to buy tacos for street dogs and other hungry children. The church itself is a brilliant mixture of white and pastel colors (like most building here in Mexico) and the inside was like the ritual in the square earlier, and interesting mixture of Catholicism and traditional religion. Pine needles scattered the floor as relics and porcelein dolls of various saints lined the walls and drapes hung from the ceiling. Settled amongst clearings in the pine needles were locals chanting as they set down burning candles. At one such spot, a rooster, in some state of mental disarray lay quietly by the candles as a local woman chanted eerily next to it. I have to find out more about this ritual later and will let you know.
I bid the girls adieu as they set off on their scooters back for San Cristobal to find an ATM and back again to Chamula to buy some boots and hopped in a very crowded collectivo. Mayan children sat on my lap and used my jeans to wipe their hands from their boiled potato lunch as we thundered down the mountain. Instead of wondering if the old VW would make it up the hill, I wondered if the breaks would work and we'd be able to stop, as well as that the door which I was shoved up against would hold lest I and the Mayan children be sent spilling off a ledge on a Chiapan roadway. Oh travel, how I love thee. It's mid afternoon now and I'm off to take some photos. I'll post photos up when I can but for now you'll just have to imagine me walking around a charming colonial Mexican town and hope that a stray bottle rocket doesn't blow me up.
Well, it's been a while, and at the request of family have decided to get this up and going again. I must say I've had a bit of a change in the way I look at travel. Before on this blog I chronicled my adventures abroad from the standpoint of the backpacker, someone in the process of travel but always destined to come home. But really, since I graduated over a year ago, I haven't really been confined to a return and lately my concept of "home" has seemingly gone on a journey of its own. The real fact of the matter is, what I'm engaging in now is life... not a trip. This is conceivably my new identity and becomes less about the travel and more about my life in a given place.
As such, pardon me if these updates are few and far between. Really, my life here isn't that interesting. I can't tell you all about my escapades in Pamplona during San Fermin or the joys of a small Moroccan town of Chefchaouen. Nor can I really detail how I went tubing down some river (chronicled back in the email days) or going Canyoneering in Switzerland (when I first really got the travel bug). This is my typical day in Playa, and for the most part it doesn't really change:
0630 Wakeup. I've discovered the joy of slow mornings. Time to hit snooze, make breakfast, enjoy quiet. I'll usually shower, depending on the state of my hair, which is getting to be quite long and not too far away from the atrocity that was my sophomore year of high school. Although sun bleached and on a dive instructor, it seems to fit. At any rate, I am out the door at...
0740 ... for my daily trip to Starbucks. Yes, yes, I know... Mark supporting the evil capitalistic empire, how strange (I also occasionally shop at Wal-Mart here, gasp!). But, they make a nice coffee and it's become very ritualistic for me to start my morning. I walk to work from here, either via the beach or through the main road in Playacar (resorty/expat area where I work).
0815 Work has started. I'm usually one of the first to get in the shop and go about my OCD cleaning and whatnot. When customers arrive we outfit them in their dive gear, have them sign waivers, and send them off to their destination for the day- Cozumel, Cenotes, or Local Diving. I usually hang around the shop for a bit after this, channeling more OCD power into our disorganized shop or fixing regulators...
10-1030 ...Comes around and I head off the pool, either at the Occidental Allegro or more commonly the Occidental Royal Hideaway. I set up my pool demo then begin to make the rounds, turning up the charm and getting first time divers to go out to the ocean with me for the afternoon. No, it's not a glorious dive job at all, but the people love it and I make some good money doing it. So there!
1215 Brings lunch. Cafeteria style. Not too shabby.
1300 Pool session with DSD (Discover Scuba Diving clients). Sometimes this is easy but most of the time can be quite challenging. Many folks, especially those at the hotels where I work, are not the most coordinated or adventurous of people. It sometimes takes a lot of convincing and coaching to get people through the skills but completely worth it, because at...
1500 We head off to a shallow reef for the ocean dive. This is usually fantastic and what I love about my job. Not the greatest dive site in the world, but to see the expression on people's faces when they dive down and you can just tell they love it. That's what it's about. That look in their facemask. Where they completely forget the oddities of scuba equipment and geek out on the underwater world. Some days, we're even rewarded with cool sites, like today. 3 FRICKIN' BULL SHARKS!
1630 Returning to the dive shop from the DSD dive, I clean up all the equipment and wrap up loose ends for the day. 1700 brings the end of the day but sometimes this goes later. All depends.
Nights bring a variety of choices, but lately it's just been me going to bed early. I'm usually pretty drained by the end of the day and do enjoy myself a good sleep. Sometimes I go out. Tonight is one of those nights. I'll do a Playa nightlife post later.
So, it's a start here. Not much I know, but it's 10PM and I'm going to bed. What I'll write about in the future:
-My Spanish and understanding of Spanish slang
-Nightlife of Playa
-The Good and Bad of Tourism here
-Food
-Friends
-My apartment
-And more...
So I leave you with a photo taken on the way home from work.
Hello again from the BVI. I'm enjoying my first off day in a while and will briefly recap a bit of my life goings and whatnot.
(And for the record, I now have a mustache)
Staff training was an interesting look into what life has become on board sailboats with lots of other individuals. Over 9 days, we ran an accelerated program with lots of training sessions, meetings, disaster scenarios and whatnot. During days we sailed between various islands of the BVI interspersing life stories with crash courses on tacking, jibing, points of sail, mooring/anchoring, head (marine toilet) maintenance, engine repair, and the like. My staff training boat was amazing and for the most part liked everyone there. We sailed on a Footloose Charter boat Lis (a 50' Beneteau) which, while slow, is quite homely and is currently my home boat on program. Highlight days were those with a lot of time spent sailing and especially our day following staff training B night out at the Bitter End Yacht Club, a night beginning with shower beers and followed by rum, a dance party, and a moonfish school (bootius showus) which took over the docks. I enjoyed most of it although the close proximity to 10 other strong (and mostly type A) individuals certainly took its toll on me as I struggled to find free time and a chance to decompress from the madness, a process I continue to struggle with. All in all however, a fine time and something that turned me from zero to hero in terms of sailing knowledge. I now feel completely comfortable in running a boat. So hey, how about that.
Following staff training came a few days on docks as kids came in and we prepared for our first program. I have been placed on the Chavo fleet, a mixture of the Bravo and Charlie programs. On arrival day I was sent to St. Thomas to pick up nearly 80 kids from the airport there and since then have seemingly been running around with my head cut off. My captain on my home boat, Claire, is great and we get along well although communication is tough especially seeing as how I, as a mate and dive instructor, am frequently switching around to other boats. The kids here are a mixed bunch but mostly great. Most come from great families (what you'd expect from a 5k per session camp) although there are a few princes and princesses scattered about. Add in a whole bunch of awkward and a dash or two of teen comedy luminaries and you have quite an interesting mix. It definitely keeps things entertaining. I seem to be received quite well by nearly all the kids (despite wanting to leave a few out to sea) and get along well with the other captains and mates. I have some problems with leadership especially given the high stress conditions we've been working under but after some conversations and a day spent on the staff boat I am beginning to walk a bit more in their shoes and see their perspective. Do I still have problems and things I would improve upon? Oh most definitely. Our program director describes it as a "crazy train" and apparently every year it is this way and that's just the way it is. Staff morale has been quite low, a mixture of stress, inexperience, harsh criticisms, and lots of bad luck. But we seem to have turned a corner after a beach day at Anegada yesterday (wonderful place) and hopefully now on the home stretch of the first program can put it all together.
The strange thing about all the craziness of working here is that at the end of the day it seems to be rather enjoyable. We all have a common goal of making this program great for the kids but I am beginning to see that this summer will ultimately end up in making me a stronger person and very much the better off as a result of it. The staff bonds that get formed here are amazing as well. Definitely quite a few people I hope to know for life.
The diving here as been less than ideal both from the actual diving standpoint and my role. As for the first I think I just got spoiled on Bonaire and as for the latter I have many complaints mainly about being used primarily as a glorified divemaster and not really doing as much instruction as I would have liked. One of the selling points for me was that because there is a land based staff a lot of the odd jobs would be taken care of so I wouldn't have to worry about those and spend more time with the kids but in reality I just get entered in to a system with a pecking order and I'm very low on the totem pole. The other instructor/mate and I have been quite frustrated with this and had a meeting with the owner of the company and hopefully it gets better. Many agree we've gotten the short end of the stick but because it's "just the way it is" I don't think there is much to be changed. At any rate, it's an opportunity to suck it up and prove myself worthy of more dive instruction as well as helping out the best of my abilities in other areas where I can be useful. I'm trying real hard to use this summer as an opportunity to make myself a better person, stronger in will and overcoming any sense of entitlement I may have and hoping to get myself back on track as far as who I want to be in life. It's all quite grey to me now, but I hope to have a better feel on who I am and where I want to go with my life following this summer.
In other news I was evacuated the other day in a medical accident that was more or less a sum of parts than any one particular danger. In a culmination of several extremely stressful days, I was placed on the baby boat which is also the fleet short bus. Vivaldi is the combination of 2 parts Persian Princes, huge maturity variation, 1 part Willy (the 12 year curse like a sailor completely ridic class clown and funny as hell), and a lot of incompetence, with a dash of the just plain weird all under a captain who I love and is one of my good friends here yet lacks toughness with the kids. At any rate, after a very hectic and off-schedule morning, we left Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbor while kids downstairs cooked omelets (very tasty). We ended up struggling throughout the day with boat safety, were keeling over quite a bit, entered a squall with sails up and a day that you just can't wait to be over. To top it off, we have to anchor in Savanah Bay, which can be quite windy and has a very precarious entrance with little wiggle room. Upon trying to anchor in the bay, our winless would not work to lower our anchor (which we later discovered to be a problem with the battery not having enough juice to power it). There was, however, a small line caught up in it, and I set about trying to fix it with my multi-tool yet failing to secure the anchor hatch before doing so. Add in one big part wind with anchor hatch and bolt from anchor hatch plus my head and you have a lot of blood, quite a bit of dizzyness, and a VISAR (Virgin Island Search and Rescue). While heading out of the channel to be picked up by VISAR, a massive squall came up, blowing off our bimini, freaking the kids out, and all hell breaking loose. VISAR picked me up, rushed me to shore where an ambulance awaited. I got in, enduring a very bumpy road to a very questionable hospitable where they cleaned me up, spoke some form of english, and released me and my captain who accompanied me to walk all the way back to harbor to be picked up and sent back to fleet. Ultimately, I think it was not so big a deal, but better to be on the safe side. A combination of dehydration, stress, blood loss and seasickness led to severe head trauma like symptoms (dizziness and nausea/vomiting) and while it was quite frightening I don't think it was that bad. I was able to dress my wound as well as call our program director over radio to inform regarding the situation and at the end of the day all I have is a story and a scab on my head with my a small section of hair around the wound which has been shaved away. So, med evac and ambulance ride can be checked off my life-to-do list.
Overall I'm doing great here. It's high stress, high structure, low pay, low appreciation, low R&R, and crazy all the way but I love it. It's exactly what I need right now and at the end of the day, I'm with kids who never cease to amaze me with their insight, humor, innocence, and general ability to make the most out of every situation and have a great time. Oh, and in other news I have taken great pride in being able to fix any and all head issues the kids might have and refer to myself in these situations as "Poo Bear" and/or the Poomaster General. Anything to get me through the summer.
In closing, life is grand, and this bear travels on.
Well, I'm here in the BVI and have now completed 3 days of work. Overall, it's great. I think this job is going to be one of the more fulfilling ones I've ever had. Anyways, the trip so far...
I took off on Tuesday night on the last bus from Portland, ME to Boston, MA after a pleasant thai meal with the folks in Portland. The bus ride was uneventful and Concord Coachlines has an excellent product. Relatively cheap, clean, quick, no muss/no fuss, and has reliable internet. Done and done. Upon arriving at Logan airport, I set out to find a bar to watch the NBA finals as well as get some booze in me hopefully leading to a nice little nap before waking up for my 7am flight. As it turns out, all bars were closed, so I hopped in a shuttle to the airport Hilton where I watched the end of the game and then back to the airport. Truly bumming it, slept on benches, the floor, wherever I could but in the end didn't really get much sleep due to the incessant noise of the floor-buffering wannabe zamboni and muzac somehow blasted at a higher volume during the night. The morning eventually arrived and I took myself and my stuff into the American Airlines check- in line. Of course it took forever. Of course everyone around had way too much luggage (three to four large suitcases each per person on some international flights). Of course American has different policies posted online in regards to overweight baggage (my dive stuff weighed about 35 pounds at least). But, once all checked in, I gradually made my way through security and blah blah blah, why am I writing about this, what you really want to know is life in the BVI.
So, here we go.
I'm currently staying on a sailboat with 3 other dive staff members and 3 college interns who will be working with the company this summer. It's cramped quarters which is to be expected of a sailboat. Not a lot of storage room at all but I'm finding little nooks and crannies with which to keep stuff, the rest goes all in a big hockey equipment bag which is working out great as a duffel and gets thrown around from bed to floor or wherever it's not in the way. At nights, I've tried sleeping on the deck but sporadic showers from 2am to 5am make that a bit difficult. My hammock is best for the day time to chill in, lacking the true width and size to fit my Cheever derriere for a night of sleep. We've been provided scraps and fixin's for breakfast and lunch and taken out to dinner the past two nights at local places on Tortola. Food is not that great, but we've been working our asses off to a carb/meat heavy dinner is amazing. Hamburger the first night, appetizers and pizza the second night, and bbq reminiscent of Bobbajans on Bonaire last night. Overall, pretty good.
The days are spent helping out the dive staff here with the student programs. We meet up for a daily briefing at 7:30 followed by prepping the boats and heading off to meet the students who are currently on the early Bravo (sail + scuba) program. We've been alternating between dive op training and assisting some of the full-time instructors with their OW (open water) classes. The guy I'm assigned to has a bit of a Napolean complex but it's not so bad. The students have been great and it's made me realize how much I have missed working with kids. They're thrilled to be down here and really eager to learn so many things. Passing on my diving knowledge to them has been incredibly rewarding and I can't wait to get classes of my own.
The diving itself down here isn't as good as Bonaire although I had a dive today which could have very well been a Bonaire dive. Seen a few turtles here and there, as well as eels, and my favorite, creole wrasse. The water is exceptionally warm though and I am quite toasty in my 3mm. It's BRILLIANT to be diving in tropical waters again. My foray into dry suit diving has been nice and all, but let's face it, diving is much more fun in warm, clear waters. Diving is done off a dive boat that meets the students at various docks wherever the sailboats are moored. The boat is staffed by the dive shop which is well organized with great leadership which is really easy to work for. Also, because of the summer camp clientele, everyone has a real upbeat attitude. You can kind of be a big enthusiastic kid and nobody is gonna stomp on your toes for it.
The people here are great as well. Really have no complaints. I think tomorrow we might have off and I'm hoping to get some diving in. Monday and Tuesday we do our Wilderness First Aid classes and then on next Wednesday we have a 10-day staff training sailabout which is a crash course in what the kids get. So yeah, my training is on sailboats and chilling out with fun activities in what I've been told "will never be like any training you'll ever have again".
What have I done to deserve this good life? I dunno, but it's amazing.
Will write when I can, although once I'm out on boats internet will be hard to come by.
Wow, I have been absolutely terrible at updating this and my friend Lina definitely called out me out for it. So here you go... my past two months summed up and my summer plans.
I finished up my PADI IDC (instructor development course) in mid-April. The course itself, consisting of 6 modular days was mostly focused on the PADI system, liability issues, and how to teach and market PADI courses. At the time of finishing I was a bit disappointed it did not focus more on the actual teaching aspects of being a dive instructor, but at the end of the day, and as a friend told me, "that's something you already know how to do" and something I think you can only really learn with experience. I passed my Instructor Exams with flying colors, with averaged scores in the high 4's (out of 5-they never give 5's) and my examiner told me in regards to what to work on: "if it ain't broke, don't fix it". He said I'll be a fine instructor in time and just need to work at it. So there ya go. Overall, what does it really mean? Not much. Once I get into teaching I'll figure out what works and what doesn't but until then, I'm just a newbie with a dive instructor certificate and a lot of options.
(Below: New happy dive instructors and our wonderfully nice yet comparatively vertically challenged course director, Dianne) and (video of a nurse shark on a dive off Jupiter, FL after my IDC/IE) and (stingray and scalloped (?) Hammerhead off Jupiter, FL). Now, as I had finished college, the answer to "What next?" had been "Become a dive instructor, travel the world". It seemed like a perfectly logical sequence at the time, but as of a year ago, I was only an Advanced Open Water Diver (AOW) with about 25 dives to my credit, more or less a guppie in diving terms. I had a long ways to go, and while I knew I loved both diving and traveling, taking such a leap following graduation looks pretty bold in hindsight. But youth, determination, and optimism are three friends that go well in the corner of any 23 year old lad and I suppose it's turned out alright.
So, now that I'm a dive instructor, now what? The plan was always to go to Asia, become an instructor, then travel around southern Thailand/Indonesia and walk right into a job. But, between a US roadtrip with cousins and my sister's graduation, things didn't go as planned.
Upon returning from instructor-whatnot in Florida, I spent a little while at my folks' place in Maine while waiting for my sister's graduation celebration from NYU in mid-May. Not wanting to take a break from the water (as well as not being able to pass up a great deal) I decided to get into the world of dry-suit diving. Now, in the wonderful Caribbean where waters are in the high 70's/low 80's, you can dive in just a swimsuit or preferably a thinner wetsuit (3mm thick for mine, while others prefer a 5mm or 7mm) and be just fine. However, up in Maine, it is a chilly 47 degrees give or take in the water and needless to say, you get quite cold, quite quick (for water, think 47 degrees in air and multiply by 10 and that's the cold factor you're talking about). So, for those divers limited by the geographics of regions lacking warm, crystal-blue waters there is the drysuit (at right, although filled up with air, usually it is much more trim). It seals off at the neck and wrists and you wear warm winter clothes or a sleeping-bag-esque onesie underneath under the theory that the air around your body will keep you warm. And the verdict? The dry suit works! It keeps you warm and dry although is a bit like relearning how to dive int terms of buoyancy. I feel quite awkward underwater and it is like having your body as a balloon you somehow have to control and keep oriented properly.
(Below: me in full Maine diving gear) Like I had mentioned previously, my sister graduated from NYU in mid-May and I went down the weekend before to see some of my friends from Cal who were in the city. On Friday night, we went out to see one an electronic music group called The Glitch Mob. We were in for quite a treat as it was an amazing show, setting a new standard for the sort of skill I now expect to see out of an electronic music show. All three members were able to switch between computerized players and other standard DJ equipment, soundboards, percussion and guitar/bass instruments resulting in some tremendous sound to go along with some great visual displays which are gradually become a bigger part of the live music scene. Wild stuff and great to party with my friends from Cal again, certainly do miss them. Wish I could find a good video from the show, but none to be seen. Here's a look at their latest official video:
The next week was occupied with Emily's graduation activities. Grandma came up from Virginia and we naturally ate wonderful meals as our family tends to do. When not with family, I spent the days hanging with Emily and the night we'd go out with her friends. Odd to think they're all graduating now. Seems like just yesterday I was visiting Emily during her freshman year at NYU. Now she's all graduated. Funny, cause at my graduation it really didn't hit me that much that "adulthood" had arrived but at Emily's it really sunk in. While I'm opting for a career abroad, Emily has taken to NYC and will be staying there and is currently trying to find a job. I'm sure she'll get something soon, she's quite bright and I'm one proud brother.
And so we continue... after Emily's graduation I went with my dear grandmother down to Virginia to visit for a bit. I stayed there for a week, visiting with family and friends from high school and had quite the time before heading back up to New York for the season finale of LOST.
Emily and I went to see her friend Adam's band, Previously on Lost which recaps episodes and storylines from the ABC television show. They played before the season finale and have to say were quite good. Entertaining upbeat music with a high enough dork factor for me to buy a t-shirt afterwards and thereby establish my coolness. But yeah, the band was great. The show? Great until the last twenty minutes when (SPOILER ALERT) it turns out that everyone was dead all along. So a big middle finger to you, LOST. And since then, I've been up in Maine, doing more drysuit diving, working out, and biding my time until my next great adventure, which, dear reader, I don't believe I've discussed yet. So here we go... (but after this cool picture of a sunset the other night)
My summer plans....(drumroll).... I will be working for Sail Caribbean (website) as a dive instructor and glorified camp counselor on board their sailboats in the British Virgin Islands.
Tough life, I know.
So how did this all come about? While down in Florida at my IDC, one of my fellow candidates had worked for a company called Action Quest which does sailing + watersports activities in the Virgin Islands and recommended I take a look at it. I did, and applied, and waited... and waited... and waited... But no response. So after calling them up, I discovered they had never looked at my application, the woman who oversaw that went on leave and so they filled up all positions. Oh well.
I was a bit discouraged at this and continued to email various other diving operations, although the idea of working on sailboats in the Caribbean was definitely still appealing to me, no openings really seemed to be out there. At the lowest point of my unemployment I was at my grandma's house and woke up one morning determined to find a job or at least get out as many options as possible. I checked the PADI website job boards and applied and applied and applied. As luck would have it, two jobs came up with pretty much the same description as I had hoped for with Action Quest: dive instructor on a sailboat summer camp. Within a period of 24 hours, I had applied, interviewed, and had reference checks with both Sail Caribbean and Broadreach. Although I had interviewed with Broadreach first, my contact with Sail Caribbean was with the owner, Mike, and had a real positive feel to it. The next day... boom, got my first diving job.
So here I am, ready to ship out tomorrow night to spend the night in Boston Logan airport followed by a flight on Wedensday to St. John and then a ferry to Tortola. Packing all my stuff tonight and you can't even begin to imagine my excitement level for this trip. I get to dive in the Caribbean again. I get to learn to sail. I get to pass on my diving knowledge to teens. I get to earn a paycheck! All good things.
Ultimately it's been quite a past two months with a lot of fun times but also a lot of uncertainty. But, it all works out in the end and the more and more I experience, the more and more I find that if you put yourself out there, life will find a way to make everything work out in the end. Cristina Zenato, a shark feeder/sleeper, gave me some advice after I finished my rescue course last October. She told me "you're young, and no matter what road you take, you can hop off and you'll land on both feet, and from there you'll have 5 more roads to take. And it will work out. And if it doesn't, you can always go back."
It certainly seems as if my road is taking off. So, I'll see where it goes from here and hopefully won't be "going back" anytime soon. As I will be on sailboats for most of the summer, I can't promise much in the way of blog posts or pictures or anything but until next time, here is an absolutely badass video that should keep you occupied till then.
Much has gone on since I last wrote over two months ago and now I have a little bit of time to sit and catch you, dear reader, up to speed on the latest travels and progress on becoming a scuba instructor.
My time in Bonaire finished up in mid-March and overall I have to give the experience high marks. Bonaire was fabulous for what it was: a step in my professional diving development as well as a great opportunity to see yet another place in this great world of ours. I completed my divemaster rank on Febuary 23rd and then became an Assistant Instructor exactly a month later. At one point on Bonaire, I had given much thought to staying on the island and working. I'm not sure whether it would have worked out at Dive Friends Bonaire where I had been working. While I enjoyed working there, there was quite a power vacuum left when the manager was fired, and the management that took over has struggled quite a bit. Long term, I think I would have been unhappy in the stagnant and scattered work environment that it seemed to be. And I don't really quite know if they would have been happy with me working for them either. I don't know what I did, if anything, and perhaps it was my being American- or rather, not being Dutch- but it seemed overall as if I was always just considered a temp, someone not really to invest much in. But, c'est la vie as the French say. Overall, Bonaire was great, for these reasons...
I got great work experience in the dive industry- and REALLY enjoyed it. Sure, there were times when I could grow frustrated with the "island work pace" or having to deal with cruise shippers (worth another discussion all together), but being able to be actively engaged with customers and running through many different facets of the dive industry was incredibly rewarding for me. On any particular day, I would deal with customer service, equipment repair, guided dives, slave work like tank filling and errands, and various other challenges.
I became a much better diver while on Bonaire. I think I added somewhere around 60 dives to my log book and really became comfortable with being underwater. And what better a place to do it? Warm water, little current, great vis. Much different than a lot of my other diving. All in all, a fantastic place to dive. (Although sadly I didn't see any sharks...)
Living on a Caribbean island is a very interesting experience. It was certainly an eye opener for me to realize how fortunate I've been living where I have in my life, areas of higher culture and options for escape. While no doubt sunsets and tropical breezes are wonderful things, after a while, you realize that living on an island can be a very trapped existence, often leaving "Happy Hour" as the default activity for time-occupation once 5 o'clock rolls around. Acquiring good food is near impossible on the island, and I realized how fortunate I was to really get in to cooking and my own personal diet when I was in California, a land of fresh and delicious produce year round. And the attitude of most islanders is that of a very lazy existence. The slow-pace is tremendously nice and a needed break from the hectic rate of the "real" world, but sometimes you wish for a little bit more initiative from people. But all cannot be perfect in a location, at least I haven't found that place yet or rather I haven't evolved into that place yet.
I got to work with great people (for the most part). Those who know me and have worked with me know I can be quite hard-headed at times. At times this got the better for me with some of the other staff, but they had their issues as well. But, 95% of the people I worked with were amazing and became close friends with during my time there. To be able to work with a predominantly Dutch workforce was great as I got to know a bit of their culture and ways. Many of my closest friends on Bonaire I worked with every day, and that made work incredibly rewarding in and of itself.
Our clientele at Dive Friends Bonaire were amazing. We had quite a few repeat customers from the Hoffmans who were always cheery (and who brought me back new Rainbows when my pair washed away in the second week!) to the Johnsons who were quite charming in their Southern ways. We had tons of other repeat customers who were all quite lovely and welcoming. It was common for me to ask someone if they needed help to have them respond with something like, "Oh, I'm just in for a tank fill, but welcome to Bonaire, you're new here aren't you? How you like it? My name is Sue" etc. and so on. Funny thing about Bonaire is it is so very much a community of people, those living on the island and those who come to visit year after year. And that's a very good thing.
In addition to the people I'd see at work everyday, I met a ton of other transients like myself on Bonaire. One of my closest friends, Nick, I met on the plane flight in. He was Dutch and off to explore his youth much like me. He worked at a local restaurant/bar and had the very convenient habit of always putting me as a separate tab in which a few of my beers seemingly disappeared from the bill. Of course, I reciprocated with tip in the form of beers during our nights of shenanigans. The rest of the staff at City Cafe where Nick worked also became cohorts of mine, all in all wonderful people down to share a beer and discuss our wide range of experiences. Also to note was the American study abroad group, CIEE, who were all amazing people and I came to share many good times with. I hope to meet up with them, especially Andrew and Zach, my bro-partners in crime when they get back to the states in May.
Deserving a separate note was an absolutely wonderful Swedish girl I met, Olivia, several weeks into my stay there. She was taking the Open Water course I was assisting on and after the course one night out for drinks we got to talking and well just clicked. Not sure how well it would have worked in the real world, but for an "island girlfriend" she was underbar as they say in Sweden. Incredibly nice and beautiful to boot. One of the amazing things about traveling is the romances you make as you go, although quite a kick in the gut to realize that they very much exist in their own little time and space with an expiration date and many butterflies left over.
There are many stories from my Bonaire experience that I would love to share on here, but I lack the skill to express myself in such a medium as writing to truly convey the sites, sounds, and emotions that accompanied daily and nightly happenings. I left Bonaire on the 24th amidst a particularly vicious flu/food poisoning/dengue/tropical disease what-have-you which left me with killer chills and a sky-rocketing fever. The 7 hour delay in Curacao due to the plane being broken didn't help matters much yet despite the sickness I had a very pleasant day with a largely Venezuelan passenger group discussing life in their country from electricity blackouts to crazy Chavez. Upon getting to the states, I passed through the ridiculous state of affairs that is US customs, a maze of largely show and "Fuck you foreign terrorist" attitude that I am sure is so endearing to visitors to our country. Spending the night in a seedy Miami hotel, the next day I returned to my folks' place in Maine with the plane getting delayed yet again (although this time at T5 JFK, THE place to get delayed if you must) and eventually arriving in bed in Maine with fevers, chills, itches, and general weariness following my journey home.
Overall rating for Bonaire, 7/10. For a short stay, it was great and while I didn't fall in love with it, I made many friends that I hope to stay in touch with for many years to come.
I'm now in Florida at my Instructor Development Course (IDC) and will write more on that in a few days. I PROMISE! I'll be better about updating.
Folks, I know it's been a while. So, on my off day, I've decided to bring you a little more about my time here in Bonaire...
First, updates and random things. In bullet style, cause it's my off day and I'm too lazy to make a paragraph work.
Work is amazing. I'm in the final two weeks of my divemaster internship. They're now putting me on classes, boat dives, and higher end stuff which I love. Yesterday, spent all day on the boat, playing divemaster for 3 dives. Found my first seashorse too! Good day.
I recently bought a wetsuit cause I got tired and cold from the diveshop's shorty I had been borrowing. A 3/2 mm Bare Velocity. Working out great. Also got a LED light for night diving. It's pink, for breast cancer and was the only one of the model left. I got some flack around the shop but whatever, it works great and who doesn't love to save the boobies?
On Bonaire, 5 days after the full moon, ostracods do their spawning thing. THIS IS REALLY COOL! Ok, so the ostracods, which are little crustacean shrimp zooplankton, release their sperm and eggs. They combine and give off a flourescent color, green or blue and this color is activated when you swirl them around. Also when you shine your light on them and take it away. So, imagine if you can, swimming through the ocean as it lights up with little stars all around you. You can make them dance with your hands too. And they form this helix shape as they move upwards from the reef. Words don't do it justice.
Cooking. So I think I've detailed how it's hard to get really good food on the island. Doesn't mean I still don't eat. So, some pictures. First, from mexican night I did with some friends and the second a meal I made the other night, a cilantro-garlic rice with fried egg, pasta sauce and cheese. Sounds nasty, but was great.
While we're at it, some other great stuff you find in the stores here...
Social life on Bonaire is much more simple than back in the states, which I really like. There is a happy hour everyday at City Cafe which I occasionally attend along with others from the dive shop. Friday is the big night out on Bonaire, with everyone more or less going to Havana's for drinks and a dj who plays the same songs every week. One of the more popular songs played every week...
We had quite the night for the Super Bowl last week. Some of the American study abroad kids and I went out last Saturday and bought a bunch of food and beers, leading to blue cheese burgers with prosciutto and pineapple for Super Bowl Sunday along with a fair amount of Heineken and a massive Watermelon-Rum fail.
Overall not much more to say. Life is pretty good. Oh, and lucky for me had a gorgeous Swedish girl in one of the classes I assisted with a couple weeks ago. And well, one thing led to another and what do you know, I've got an island girlfriend of sorts.
Well, here I am on my first off day in a while and it is very much needed. There's been quite a lot going on so strap yourselves in for a marathon blogpost, with pictures of course.
I'm now two weeks done with the Divemaster Internship program with Dive Friends Bonaire. This included completing all tests (relating to dive physics, physiology, how to teach, decompression theory, etc) as well as assisting around the shop. Speaking of the shop... I've also still been doing quite a bit of work on the beach. And by work, I really mean taking people around snorkeling. Some days are better than others, but it's always nice to be out in the sun, and it's definitely busy. A group will come in and stay for two hours in which you have to constantly monitor them to not step on the coral, not swim too far, etc. etc. There is also a lot of schmoozing, because we work for tip. By far the best tippers are Americans/Canadia, followed by the Brits, Europeans (mostly Dutch/German/and a few French), and Latin Americans. Most days we don't get any tip from the Latin American ship, Enchantment of the Seas (which, oddly enough the Cheever family was on Thanksgiving 2004). But, occasionally we do pull off a coup and manage a little extra cash (I am sure there is a direct relationship between my schmoozing/flirting and tips... hey, American guy who can try and speak Spanish? Ok, maybe we'll give). Enchantment days are a bit tough as I am the only Spanish speaker on the beach and my vocab doesn't always translate to snorkel stuff, but something I need to work on. We've had a bit of staff turnover lately (more on this later) and I'm the only Spanish speaker left. Opportunity for a job? Maybe... But, enough typing, you want some more pictures. So, here it is, the beach (sans equipment) Hmmm... more about work... I really do like the people I am working with and am getting closer with many of them with each passing week. For the most part everyone works hard (with a few exceptions) and is always willing to answer my questions here and there. Work could be more organized however as it sometimes takes a while to find forms or parts for equipment but it's not really my place to overhaul that and with time I'll learn where everything is. We recently had a bit of a shakeup. Our highest ranking instructor left for another resort (where her husband works) which is too bad. She was American and definitely went out of her way to help me at times which I am quite thankful for. Not to say that the rest of the instructors are helpful, they are, but I think Carolyn could empathize with me and my situation as she had been down that road somewhat. We also lost our general manager recently which is the subject of much speculation but really an understanding that while really good for business he had some drawbacks which I won't discuss. Gerrie was kind to me however and I think it is nearly unanimous that our business will suffer without him. He ran a tight ship, which kept everyone busy at all times and on their feet to keep doing better. How will things be without him? I don't quite know but will let you all know when we get there.
Let's change routes for a bit and talk about Bonaire. Two days ago, there were elections which I think drastically shaped Bonaire's future. Currently, Bonaire is an independent part of the Netherlands and as such receives quite a few benefits, namely in the way of aid in healthcare, education, economic trading laws, etc. A March referendum is in place to see if this will continue or whether Bonaire will become freely associated with the Netherlands. Now, the time leading up to these elections were quite the event. Nearly every night, fireworks would be the norm, and every time one boomed in the distance it would set off the Bonairian version of the "London bark". Within the past week, cars, all adorned with flags of the different parties would caravan around the island, honking and generally creating a scene (in addition to setting off the Bonairian bark, which can also be activated by walking in the road late at night, ah, island dogs). At any rate, here's the election in a few sentences: The Green Party (Christian party by name?) is in favor of Integration with the Netherlands, which keeps the status quo. The opposition was led by the Red Party which favors Free Association, or a much more independent state loosely affiliated like Australia/New Zealand/Canada are with England only the Netherlands more or less said kiss our ass goodbye if you go this route. The UN stepped in saying that more time was needed to have fair elections and gather information as well as make the ballot less confusing but this was largely ignored. And then there was the Blue party which more or less wanted to kick every foreigner off the island. End result? Green in a close one (over red), which is best for just about everyone here on the island in the long run via money from the Netherlands for education, healthcare, economic support, etc. So now that the Green party has won, looks like the March referendum may be canceled but who really knows, Bonaire is a third-world island nation and as such has third-world island politics.
Time for more pictures... here is Bonairian currency, the guilder, or expressed as Naf.
The food situation is very much the same here on the island... somewhat limited. But I suppose I got very jaded living in California and in Berkeley in particular. I've found tortillas here on the island which is a staple of mine. They are, after all, the best food delivery vehicle ever. Lots of sandwiches as well. I would kill for some good tomatoes. KILL! But no, they are all quite bland. I got quite excited to find avocado the other day (not the Californian kind) but it needs ripening so I've got to give it some time. If I do end up staying on Bonaire, I will start my own garden. It's a must.
I am making more and more friends here on the island which is definitely a good thing. It's nice to have a bit of a social group and get together outside work.
Other than that, the same stuff as always. I will leave you with some photos of the Hilma Hooker, a wreck here on Bonaire (it's story can be found here, quite a good one)
Some tarpon... Underside (bow) of Hooker Triggerfish! Other half of Team California...So that's it for now. Time to enjoy my weekend.
