My Blog

Viva La Rhumba

it all began with a google search from peru.  bored and waiting for the cold
rain to end, it found me sitting in my chair, coffee-in-hand..... adventure.
a possibility to explore a no-no country with a reputation that sends
chills down the spines of billions of mothers across the world, colombia. 
synonomous with the word cocaine and associcated with the worst drug cartels
the world has ever known, colombia.  dangerous and mysterious, colombia. 
words like paramilitary, guerillas, kidnappings all spring to the forefront
of your mind with the word colombia.  colombia, now my most favorite of the
countries i've visited;  friendly colombia, cultured colombia, green and
plush colombia, beautiful people colombia, BEAUTIFUL WOMEN...  GO colombia,
white sand beaches colombia, towering mountains colombia, welcoming,
inexpensive, salsa..... viva la rhumba, colombia.

unsure if the money i sent to this tour agency wasn't in fact a front for
some drug cartel, i cautiously left the airport scourring the parking lot
for my name on a card signifying my entrance into the country:  `Gringo
Here' was how i felt.  big pack, quick drying clothes, merrel shoes.  i fit
in like a black sheep at a wolves convention.  half expecting not to find my
name and half expecting to be held for ransom the second my foot hit
pavement, i walked toward the car to find a friendly colombian (one of
thousands i was to meet on this journey) eagarly awaiting to show me his
most incredible country.  he dropped me off at the hotel where i met the
remainder of the tour, a large group from holland with only two english
speakers and one with a proficiency in spanish.  for some reason, everyone
must have majored in smoking in college because where ever we went, i felt
like the industrial section of town.  two packs a day was the norm with
these guys, as if being 6'5 and blond wasn't enough of a smoke signal that
the gringos are here.  this was going to be a long three cancer-filled
weeks.  day one was rafting down this small puddle of a river compared to my
prior experience in peru on the apurimic but the town we went to was exactly
out of a movie.  by mid-afternoon, every bar had beautiful men and women
salsa'ing to vairous decades of music.  to my untrained ear, i couldn't tell
the difference between the '50s and 00's, but man, can those colombians
shake some ass.  day two had us off to santa marta, a beautiful beach town
filled with gorgeous women, cheap exotic drinks, and a great steak
restaurant.  in preparation for the following day, we all got loaded on
colombian beer.  the next day began our trek to the lost city (from my
description, the question will be lost or purposefully forgotten).  think
the trek to machu picchu but twice the days hiking, six and not three, hot
and humid and not temperate or cool, torrential rains every day, mosquitos
that could carry off small children and probably use deet as their
aftershave lotion, isolation with no nearby towns with maybe twenty people
passing through a week, steep rocky green cliffs, mist, indians,
paramilitary, hammocks, cocaine factories (thousands), poisonous snakes,
oh... and no porters to carry all your crap across rivers or up the 2000
steps at the end.  it was great!!  after day one and the first of the
torrential rains, all of our clothes got soaked and remained wet until the
final day; welcome to a rainforest.  the terrain was steep, muddy, rocky and
often you would play chicken with wild pigs. multiple times, across our
path, our guide would use some word i definately know wasn't in my
dictionary and would quickly jump out of the way with a trail of gringos
following suite like a silly game of follow the leader.  down the trail
would head some nasty looking snake probably hungry for some foreign gringo
meat; soft and fatty and not wanting with a natural marinade of msg.  often,
they were black and big with a face large enough for a personality and name
like bubba or killer or sandra.  once, it was a coral snake, and once, our
guide no tiene ni puta idea what kind of snake it was but he wasn't getting
any closer than the rest of us.  of course big hairy spiders the size of
your hand and centipedes big enough for a meal if you dared to try were the
norm.  on our way back through the river we had previously crossed, we
noticed a substantial rise in the level to now above our heads requiring a
dummy cart suspended on a thin, rusty wire 50ft above the rocky surface
below (no US regulations here).  luckily, i was the last to go... sparing
details, that was fucking crazy;  a jump and a prayer without anyone holding
the cart or the rope in check, before my feet entered the plane of the cart
there was far more movement towards the other side than i care to remember.
anyways, on the way, we were greeted by a nice young paramilitary guy that
knew our guide like an old school friend and offered us a tour of his
cocaine factory.  seriously, i've got the recipe and some photos but i did
decline the offer to taste the paste before the final acetone-purification
step.  for me, it's the good stuff or nothing.  there's more.  plenty more
like the night i was in my hammock and was attacked by hatching termites in
park tayrona, and the gorgeous views of endless green countrysides, and
cartegena... oh dear god, cartegena.  what a beautiful walled city.  a world
heritage city with beautiful buildings and beaches and people, good food,
and music eminating from every doorstep.  go there!!  aaahhhhhhhhhhh, and
medellin.  friendly people (notice, this phrase is often repeated in
association with colombian people), metro system, plastic surgery, good
food, cheap beer, wonderful spring like medellin.  can you tell why i plan
to spend the next several months here.  my place (for $325) gives me a pool,
sauna, patio, security, turkish bath, steps to my university.... oh, and
it's fully furnished.  i am repeating my previous statements:  fellow
travelers are welcome.  there's a party everywhere.  of course that's just a
bonus because i'm really here taking spanish lessons and studying my
medicine for the continuation of my residency in july, not just getting
loaded every night.

for my fellow frisbee players... and this is important, i've joined a team
out here and will be playing in colombian nationals this december.  given
this, info, it is likely a little late to join any other team. though, if
you plan to come visit now,  i'm coach/player of a team called gato negro
(black cat), so you've got a space with my squad;  regular workouts,
strategy sessions, and scoober/hammer practices every night of the week. 
however, and even more importantly, there will be a tourney in barranquilla
during carnival in late february, a city off the north coast that
apparnently has a carnival that rivals the best of brazil.  again, i repeat,
fellow adventurers and frisbee players are welcome.

if i were to give more details of all the adventures i've had, places i've
been, and things i've seen, this e-mail would never end.  feel free to send
specific questions, especially if you've got plans to come visit.  for now,
i am alive, well, and happy in colombia.  pictures will soon follow with
each representing another  thousand words or so.  take care and viva la
rhumba.

kevan

doing life one adventure at a time

Peru/Bolivia Update

truly, the adventures in the last two weeks have been amazing compounded with hours/days spent busing it third-world style.  after leaving lima, i visited puno and lake titicaca, a small city bordering bolivia where many of the residents actually weave an island of reeds that float atop the pure blue waters of titicaca and upon which they still live. the scenery is incredible, the air crisp and clean (a nice contrast from lima), and everything is dirt cheap as you can witness from the various threads i'm sporting.  from here, i back tracked to cusco to hit one of the top 10 rivers in the world for rafting, the apurimic.  the rapids were short but challenging and very technical.  basically, it was me, 17 israels that just completed their military stent, and five peruvian guides.   with several flips, frigid waters, and excess adrenaline, after three days we survived to party the night away back in cusco.  for those unaware, this city that starts your treks to machu picchu is one hell of a party place.  details can be purchased for a dark beer (oh, how i miss the american beers).  thirty hours of buses later, i arrived in uyuni bolivia to tackle the solar de uyuni salt flats and colored lakes filled with pink flammingos.  words can not describe your feelings of desolation and awe.  three days of driving into nothingness revealled natural, untouched beauty.  painted mountains (given their name due to colors of various minerals in-laid within and shaped by time), colored lakes- red, green, white littered with flammingos, salt flats as far as the eye can see wth the sky blending with reflection causing reality to appear like a bad trip.  at times, it appearred as though the very 4X4 was floating in the sky.  granted, this could have been the elevation of 14-15K ft or the coco leaves we would chew to adjust to the elevation and exertion required at these heights.  our final night had us in the freezing andes overlooking a red lake, series of painted mountains, bordering yellow sand, and blue sky.  words alone can not describe the severe contrast to the cities we all know and love.  black skies like i've never seen, 300 miles of nothingness, oh, and a beautiful natural hot spring at near 13,500 feet of which we visited at 5 am to catch the sunrise. yeah, i was loving this.  finally, some typical adventure.  yes, i knew bolivia was slightly unstable but i had no idea how much they truly hated the US.  upon arriving after another 14 hr bus trip (sin bathroom, lucky for me i had an empty coke bottle), i come to learn that demonstrations are planned and the vice president was speaking in the center of town.  thousands of people and flags with words combining the US and evil and hate.  the city is closed down.  no buses are allowed to leave.  camera in hand, i brave the crowds, listen to some statements, take a few pictures and get the hell out of dodge.  the following morning the same however there is a mountain biking tour down death road that leaves at 6am prior to the demonstrations.  death road is called that because it is a windy, dirt road with no rails in which several have died.  obviously, this is a challenge for me.  there's room enough for one car with periodic extensions so bus can pass bus.  every turn, you send your tires to the edge as you never know if a truck is taking the turn giving you the view point of looking down a steep drop and mist.  half-way down you start to see scattered graves and shrines for those lost from prior years.  starting high up, we had snow and by the time the afternoon had set in and we had descended from 14,700 feet to a mere 4,000 feet hitting temps now of close to 90 degrees.  more exhilartion and adrenaline spent, i head back to lima to find more demonstations.  bus schedules slightly altered, i find a bus leaving to the border early in the morning that understands that you can not pass through the demonstrations and actually will pick up its passengers (basically, foreigners that want to get the hell out) from their hotels.  on the border, i see the other half of lake titicaca from the city of copacobana, bolivia and crash away the night.  waking up, i take a 30hr bus ride back to lima to chill for a few days before flying to colombia for some extended stay.  smart enought not to do the initial journey on my own, i'm taking a three week- all over tour of the country prior to my branching on my own for an uncertain stent of time.  i promise more adventures to come.  sorry for not having anything more hair-raising but after the last few series of muggings and beatings, i'm due for a breather.  given that i'm heading to colombia as well, anything hair-raising may come with a $100K ransom... so start saving your pennies.  attached are some shots of solar de uyuni, a shot of death road, and one shot early morning as the demonstrations were picking up.  take it easy.  as always, co-travelers are welcome... and, adventure is promised. 

Update Peru

hey kids, so the journey continues in peru. the last update had me chilling in the barrios of lima where, once again, i have returned after an interesting trek to machu picchu with my mother as my travel partner. in itself, that experience will not be forgotten any time soon. but, machu picchu, there are no words to describe the sensations one feels admiring the awe of another's granduer, but 'wow'. we took the train and not the four day trek option as many now do. travelling along-side the river looking up the cliffs steeped in mystery and fog one begins to wonder how a civilation can survive under these conditions. but as the train turns to a bus to challenge the steep cliff and traverse the otherwise inpassable way, before you, around a turn, opens to picturesque view of what can only be described as incredible. steeped in fog and mist are the ruins of machu picchu. the ruins of a civilazation wrapped in mystery; where? why? how? what happened to the them? speculation is all that remains with gorgeous stone structures, beautiful views, and a spiritual energy that is unique to this place. granted, the presence of thousands of visitors taintes the experience, but we stayed a second day allowing us the morning trek to the summit in the presence of a handful of others. what was accomplished there needs to be seen and felt at some point during your lifetime. i've attached pictures through my borrowed cable to show you some of what has occurred on this trek to date (teotihuacan mexico, puerto escondido mexico, machu picchu). from here, there is no particular order of what will be seen; challenging the rapids on the apurimic river, taking in the history of lake titicaca, the salar de uyuni salt flats in bolivia, the colored lakes in bolivia, the most dangerous ride by mountain bike..... and then to colombia on the 21st of october for a planned three week trek around the country. nothing else is planned to date as anything can happen in a country so extreme as colombia. ideas and travel partners are welcome at any time. take it easy. zipin doing life one adventure at a time

not dead yet

hey y'all

nope, i'm not dead yet.  from oaxaca, my bus did finally leave later that evening about twelve hours behind schedule dropping me in mexico city well past two in the morning at a bar to join some friends in my last night of salsa.  much chaos followed in oaxaca city and actually made the headlines in the US. something like more burning cars and demonstrations getting out of hand.  but, it's lost me know.  i've left mexico and have entered another bizarre country... peru.  here, i've old friends from the days working at the ski mountain and thus am, once again, experiencing the country as a local; living in the barrios far outside the city.  likely, i am the only tourist for ten miles as can be seen on the faces of those i pass on the streets.  there's good and bad.  the bad, is that there's little actual night life besides the occassional teenager trying his turn in the local park-ampitheater with some psuedo karaoke, going out past eleven means that even a few blocks means a taxi, no hot water... in winter (oh, how i miss the luxaries of the states) there's little that is clean and beautiful.  the good, i can buy a kilo of strawberries for $.50, a kilo of cocaine for probably about the same price, an entire dinner for four for $4, my month's rent is $50, a month gym membership for $9, and as a gringo it is easy to befriend folks... unfortunately, i keep befriending those that work at pastry shops and thus have a need for gym membership.  and, for those who are curious, the ceviche here kicks ass and the chinese food ain't so bad neither.  what am i doing...? nothing really.  studying my spanish for now (which is slowly improving; it's a good thing i'm a doctor as languages are hard and i'm retarded at them), learning a few recipes and enjoying this remarkable, dirty, colorfully grey, strange, culture-filled city.  in two weeks, somehow, i've convinced one adventurous spirit (oddly, my mother) to join me in cusco to enjoy the wonders of macchu picchu.  where, from there, i'll continue to explore the amazon by whitewater raft for several days, make my way to puno and bolivia for the amazingly colored lakes of titikaca (that's the real name. it borders peru and bolivia and those here say that the titi is for peru and the caca is for bolivia, i won't get in the middle of this feud).  all this is in the future and yet to be determined as nothing is solidified until it is completed.  from there, i promise other adventures and wonders and maybe even a few photos.  that's all to report for now, so hasta regresso.  luego.

Again?!

ahhhhh, the fates.  how cruel and methodical their madness, and with a sense of irony, their consistency.  where to begin as i know many of you waited, wanted yet another story of excitement.  now, i´m not an idiot.  stop shaking your heads.  this time i did everything right and the fates just had it in for me.  after five weeks of traveling, teaching ultimate, and beaching it with little more than my normal chaos, lightning need strike somewhere.  it just so happens my aura contains a lightning rod.  so it begins monday morning with an inconspicuous bus ticket to oaxaca; leaving at two in the afternoon and arriving four hours later in the gorgeous colonial city of oaxaca.  with its cobblestone streets, craft markets, food stands, festivals.... and the recent violence, destruction, and push for communism destroying much of this peace lovin community.  but, alas, that all occurred weeks before i arrived and recent u.s. reports suggest it is safe to once again visit this beautiful city.  climbing steep mountainous roads with green, tree ridden hills in the back drop it started to rain.  actually, rain really isn´t the word for it.  within minutes, the bus was at a crawl.  and, with me in the front seat, i managed to see the white knuckles of the driver veering from the drops below.  oh, and there was fog.  lot´s and lot´s of fog. so thick, so viscous, it felt as though the very bus was struggling to squeeze through.  in other words, the four hour bus ride took twelve hours dropping me in my destination at around two in the morning.  luckily, i had reservations and took my taxi to now await the morning. right?  yeah. not this kid.  the taxi took me to my hostel which was now booked as they had assumed i had cancelled by not showing by seven as i said i would.  taking another taxi, i found casa de azul.  a hostel i was told that was more expensive and for that reason, often empty.  the taxi dropped me off and i rang the bell... and rang the bell... and knocked... and rang the bell... and knocked.  with my free time, i looked around and saw the remnants of a festival with few stragglers on the streets cleaning.  now fifteen minutes later, i see one guy walking towards me.  not unusual as many walk towards me and passed without incident.  this one stopped and began talking to me.  now, after my many experiences, every bell and alarm went off... GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.  i looked around, and there were still people on the streets and an open hotel behind me with a man watching this at the desk.  here, i should stop and say that i am carrying on my back a thirty pound pack strapped at my waist.  WHAM.  a second guy from the side of me that i didn´t see hits me in the ribs and reaches for my pockets.  then a second punch to my head from the first guy.  i am off balance and throw my first of many punches in the head of the guy in my pockets.  now, realizing i´m in a whole-lotta-shit, i scramble for the open hotel.  i can see people watching this, turning their heads with shame.  shame of their own cowardess or for the now representation of their country, i just don´t know.  personally, i hope they never sleep again.  more punches to my head.  i punch the guy in front of me in the chest, the face and he pulls out a knife.  FUCK ME!!  now, i am really scrambbling.  trying to get this mother fucker off my leg so i can run to someone, anyone to make this stop.  he swings wildly across my chest.  agile, like a drunken snail with too heavy of a home, i step back.  he misses.  each time, another swing, another step back and this mother fucker on my leg trying to get at my wallet.  i start elbowing the guy after my wallet in the head, on the back of his neck to get him off me so i can move away.  another swing.  i punch the guy with the knife in the chest.  almost there.  i can see the light of the hotel on the ground.  almost there.  a few more steps.  a flash of light and another swing.  again, i push backwards tripping over the step into the hotel and falling on my back.  all i feel are kicks to my head.  only through reflection do feel the kicks to my chest.  want to know how i felt?  ever turn a turtle upside down. legs scrawling, arms flailing while two vultures pick and peck and peck.... and then it all stopped.  i am alIVE. half a second of joy before i realized i have no wallet.  no credit card. no atm card.  seconds of panic.  fuck the hotel guy for watching and doing nothing.  i throw my bags behind his desk and start running left.  i think they went left.  another left.  now a right.... a left?  nothing.  no mother fuckers.  no money.  then it occurs to me.  my passport.  with my passport i keep an emergency stash.  not much, but enough to keep me going, find a hotel, food, and maybe a bus back to mexico city where i have some friends.  finally, the door across the street opens.  in the most manly way i know, i limp to the hostel, pay for a night and crash out... not the best sleep i´ve ever had.  ok, here, i´m an idiot.  i realize, all my friends numbers were in the wallet and i never copied down the numbers of my cards.  go mom!  a collect call, some, ¨i told you so´s, followed quickly by concern and all was good.  my mother, through much leg work, cancelled my cards and sent me money via western union as i am trapped here in oaxaca and have a plane ticket to peru on saturday.  ok, as things aren´t that perfect.  in reality, western union (on this end) has no record of the transaction and i am still without the money needed.  in reality, i can´t do anything as i need to pick it up at this one place.  until it arrives, i am here.  lucky me.  no worries.  i have faith and luck on my side.  besides, the fates aren´t through with me yet.  they´d have done me in long ago if my string wasn´t riddled with knots.  oh, how do i feel?  i feel like two guys just kicked the shit out of me and stole my wallet.  let´s just say, i wish the hostels had more than just cold water for showers.  on the positive, my knuckles are bloodied and my elbows hurt are a little bruised, so i know that i got in some good shots.  that´s it for now.  you all take it easy.  and, i´ll keep you updated if i ever make it to peru.  luego.

zipin

feel the pain

in the infinate wisdom that combines too much sun, beer, and testosterone, i decided to try surfing without lessons. there are three beaches, one with the mexican pipeline where everyday around six in the evening during my run, i see an ambulance or two heading off with its lights going... i did not try here. the other beach and fairly tranquil with five or six foot waves, lots of kids, and restaurants... i did not try here. the third beach is just a short twenty minute hike up some hills and then down a stone carved cliff leading to a sandy beach enclosed by two other towering cliffs on either side and walled in by a third force of nature... ten to twelve foot waves. many of you may think this is an exaggeration but let me assure you that at the very least, this is an average and does not include the many waves that battered my ego for the course of several hours and caused my raggedy ass to consume too much salted beverage of the sea. even the skilled surfers get abused here but then these waves travel head on to the beach with most breaking from left to right... apparently that is an important thing to learn with. to cut to the chase, three of us rented one long board... basically, it is a huge styrofoam yacht that wouldn´t sink if it struck an iceberg. of course, we´ve been chilling with some other surfers with real boards that are practically a third the weight and size... this is the board i used. so i lathered up my back with extra suntan lotion, placed some on the back of legs, attached the safety line, threw my board into the water, and got toppled by a huge wave. just for your information, that safety line is for others and in no way protects you from your board as i was dragged, tail between my legs, back up to the beach with a pound of sand in places that were not intended. collecting my pride from the scattered bits that now lay exhausted on the sand and mixing that with a little testosterone, i grabbed the board and off i went sprinting toward the water and leaping into the air with my board under my chest, hitting the water like i´m straight from the hawaii 5 o intro just in time to realize my mistake when the board began to slide back or rather i continued to fly foward at a greater speed than intended, the board now between my legs, now nose pointing down and the tail pointing straight up, followed by a sudden slingshot motion of the board finding bouyency and launching straight into the air catching my safety line, and you can picture the rest. sort of a similar sequence. skipping to the meat here; avoiding the embarassment that is balancing and sitting on the board, swimming the board out, learning to duck under a wave, the countless waves that either drowned my spirits, or were missed while i furiously paddled to catch the wave... though deep down both the board and i knew that i had even less of a clue what to do if i caught a wave and really a part of me didn´t even want to catch the wave given the memories of the safety line and the bitter saltyness of the sea. when, after what felt like an eternity, somehow the wave caught me. a big wave. a really big wave. in fact, i was trying to get out of the wave... but as you can imagine is a skill that i did not yet have. picking up speed, bouncing on what felt like solid ground, my face filled with what must have been both absolute terror given the size of the wave and exhilaration given the velocity and sense of accomplishment (though it was not of my own doing). now, turning to avoid those smart of enough and skilled enough to avoid the wave as well as those just like me who were getting battered and beaten by its force, and then there´s me just traveling. cruising really, enjoying my ride... probably mouth open like a dog hangin´ in the back of the car window open going sixty. as the wave caught me and not the reverse and the oncoming land rapidly approaching i began trying various ways to get off the wave. sinking the base...no. sinking the tip.... no, that only increases the oncoming solid mass that´s really really going to hurt. at last, i settled on flipping over the board and gracefully exiting this incredible ride. believe or not, it was just that, a graceful exit. there was pride and self pats on the back but also the realization that i just body'boarded in on a surf board also surfaced, but no worries, it is day one. now addicted to this new adrenaline rush i had become. spending the next twenty minutes paddling out, eating wave after wave after wave like evey other surfer until my very arms practically gave up. one! i hit one wave on my first series of attempts. exhausted and bruised, i started paddling in repeating the same process of abuse that i went through while going out there. eventually i came to land with cheers and jeers from my new friends. a cold beer and a smile from the guy i borrowed the board from saying, ¨thanks for not breaking my board.¨ i knew what he had meant. he had bet against me and lost as there was no need of an ambulance to take me to the nearest hospital. i´m a winner damnit. and, i will prove it today when take to the surf once again. zipin

mexico update

yeah, i know it has been quite a while since my last e-mail, but nothing really exciting has happened.  the first two weeks were all about traveling and teaching ultimate in san luis potosi with the following week spent in mexico city organizing a clinic and a tourney while chilling in the city.  i have meet so many very cool people, both locals and travelers alike.  as of now, i am chilling on the beaches of peurto escondido... ie the mexican pipeline.  picture all of those flicks with crazy surfers hitting hard curling waves; as the waves climax and crash, you can actually feel the vibrations.  the waves are so strong, no one but surfters even enter the water on this beach.  me, i hit one of the nearby beaches for the surfer wannabes with waves still larger than anything i have ever seen.  in series of four or five progressively larger waves, with all being impossible to remain standing when struck.  i have no idea how big you would classify them but it is hysterical watching the 5 and 6 year olds miscalculating their pendulum like dance trying to out-smart the waves and then wham; a hand, a foot, an arm, a butt, a bathing suit, a naked child in tears.  this is in no way a rarity.  it is more like, next show in 10 minutes. the entire beach can{t be more than 150 meters across surrounded by gorgeous cliffs, backed by a cheap restaurant the serves beer for a buck and an entire fresh fish dinner for six bucks.  the water is as clear as the corona commercial and as warm and refreshing as you coud only expect perfection to be.  yesterday, even with my now tan and 15 spf, i fried like a plantane in a pan hot oil.  today, i am going to chill with some folks from denmark and then make my way down to the bad ass beach to organize some surf lessons for tomorrow or saturday.  i will keep you updated.

again, and as always, co-travelers are welcome.  oh, and as a heads-up, i plan to head to peru in a few weeks but about four weeks after than in late september, i am going to hike manchu pichu near cusco.  any takers?  the views are supposed to be breath taking.  and, if you are concerned about training for disc, besides bringing one with us, the elevation alone (not even including the hike) should be enough to improve you performance.  anyone interested?

zipin

frisbee

those who know me know that i love ultimate.  disc is and always will be a part of my life.  here is mexico, it´s just now catching on for perhaps the last six years.... and it´s growing.  to think about it, we´ve got soccer, football, tennis, basketball, baseball, and endless other sports.  here, there´s soccer and nothing more.  ids have only one sport to play and if they´re not good at then they just don´t play or exercise.  ultimate frisbee is trying to find it´s niche and my friend jen and i have been helping along its growth by teaching little kids in san luis potosi and now teaching the top teams some new offenses and defenses, as well as drills.  they already appear to have the partying thing down though no one here is aware of the land shark.  to be honest, i´m too sober to be teaching them now anyways.  besides the culture isn´t quite there yet.  in exchange for running them ragged they´ve extended their arms in friendship taking care of our social life.  almost passing off the responsibility of making sure we´ve experienced all we can in mexico.  they´ve opened their homes, their lives, their beer, given us transportation, meals, and friendship.  their excitement for ultimate can only be described like thirsty drunken alcoholics wanting more.  ok, it can be described in other ways but after a year at bmc, i´m kind of missing the whole alcoholic admission thing.  at the moment, we´re trying to strengthen the women´s ultimate by organizing a hat tourney for all the regions of mexico next week and from there, two weeks post, i join some random team in some two day coed ultimate.  i´m dieing to get back into shape.  let me rephrase that, it´s killing me to get back into shape.  take it easy.

deathtrap mexico

so we rented this tiny white chevy something. it wasnｴt much larger than my hiking pack and to think that on several occassions, we fit six or seven folks in there including cleetes and cones and packs.  let me describe our baby.  first off, i can only speak ill of it now as if she had caught wind of my true feelings, sheｴd have left us stranded in the mountains or the dirt roads of the cascadas or worse have decided to end it there during the rain storm by plunging to her and our demise during the torrential flooding in a some freakish storm.  as weｴve turned her in, i feel it is now safe to speak ill of her.  for starters, the right blinker didnｴt work unless someone held the connection at an angle, which to be honest, isnｴt at all possible the way mexicans drive.  now picture bald.  bald like a fat manｴs head.  bald like a babyｴs bottom.  bald.... and losing air.  each and every day was an adventure and not only because of the blinker and the tires but because the driving is every bit as the rumors suggest.  think new york on crack and drunk like your 18 year old cousin.  there are lines on the roads.  and, street lights... stop signs, one ways and such but to be honest, they really only appear to be suggestions.  not like- hey, pay attention to me suggestions but more like pardon me, excuse me, is anyone listening kind of suggestions.  yeah, i can now drive in anything.  oh, and i forgot.  rather than police, they use these randomly placed bumps.  now, iｴm talking bumps like catch some serious air.  like, unles you crawl over them itｴs dukeｴs of hazards for real.  and no, there arenｴt warnings nor are they painted any warning color, like yellow.  yeah, it´s been fun.

mexico: the begining

it has been a week in mexico without much to report beyond the norm beyond the first day of forgetting my passport in the photocopier at my parents house.  props to my father for driving to boston at 6am to deliver it with seconds to spare prior to my discharge to the land of irresponsibilitity.  thanks dad.  as for the rest, i flew into mexico city without incident and travelled by rental car to san luis potosi (like the providence of new york city... four hours north and much much smaller).  the center is quant with cobble stone streets and artesan vendors with a church at every corner and incredibly few gringos; like i am one of two- my friend jen, who has joined me in bringing ultimate to the masses.  my true mission in mexico, where there is plastic there shall be a child with a scoober and hammer.  the organized leader, fernando (the planner of the world reknowned acapulco tourney) recently has had marrital and job issues leaving the ultimate camp a little less than together.  no worries. we have scoured the country-side and found day camps and teams in need of the talents of the northern plastic disc.  a team called avalon has adopted us and i{ve whored myself into a tourney to take place in a few weeks.  the days are filled with plastic and evenings are filled with equally flat tortas.  i do miss annas burritos.  as for the sun, damn it{s hot.  before heading out, i was white like casper.  not a tan line in sight and now, it{s difficult to distinguish where the ground stops and i begin.  the nights have been chill but that will soon change as i head back to mexico city and continue to peurto escondito in a few days. for now, we chill, toss, and tan.  take it easy and as always, co-travellers are welcome at any time.