The path less travelled

I’m sitting here in the library (as my graphics card decided to die on my laptop the week I returned from Guatamala), and the woman next to me has sighed perhaps 15 times since sitting down.  Distracting to the extreme.  What in the world could warrant such consternation?  Oh, there she goes again.  <sigh>

I played down the camping bit in this email as the group I was sending it to included various family members, who no doubt would have had their eyebrows raised if I had mentioned that it was a two person tent that I was sharing with a guy I met the day before, and was squeezing myself next to, in order to sleep.  Details details.

February 13, 2009

Okay, stopped the journal I was writing in that previous email for some breakfast, and now I’m back at the computer.

As promised, my adventures in Tikal.  I took another Chicken bus to Flores from Rio Dulce, which probably had capacity for 40 people and they smashed about 80 in there.  I got a seat but my fellow traveler wasn´t so lucky and stood the entire 4 hours! 

Tikal, for those of you that don’t know, is a huge complex of Mayan ruins in the rainforest of northern Guatemala.  It’s about an hour and half from Flores, a little lake side town, so most people end up staying here and heading to Tikal for a daytrip.  That was my original plan, before I got talked into camping on the Tikal campgrounds by some folks I met in Rio Dulce, so that I could see the sunset and sunrise the next morning sitting on the temple steps.  So that’s what we did.  Got to Tikal about 3pm and headed straight into the park, to the Gran Plaza, which has two huge pyramid type temples facing one another.  The sun was already going down, and the ruins were pretty empty of all the day trippers, so it was magnificent climbing up on one of the temple steps (about a 200 feet staircase up the side) and catching the waning light over the steps of the other temple across the way.  The dark came pretty quickly afterwards so we went back to campgrounds– no lights around, so the sky was lit up with the stars and nothing else.  Since we’re so close to the equator, the moon takes a while to get up there as well.

Anyway, through the night it was fairly okay, but then it started raining pretty early on, which turned into a downpour, which turned us into drowned rats of sorts.  I had my raincoat and figured the whole day would be a washout, but we headed into the park anyways, and luckily the sun burned most of the rain off in about an hour.  The rest of the park was equally amazing, with a couple temples that rose about the rainforest canopy to give you the most amazing view out over it.  Temple V was by far the highest, with mind-numbing stairs to climb to the top.  No joke, about 300 feet or so of an 80 degree climb.  Good thing that I’m mostly okay with heights.  It being Guatemala, there were no railings at the top, just amazing views. 🙂

Anyway, this morning I’m taking it a little easy in Flores, and just soaking up the sites around here before taking a night bus back down to Guatemala City.  From there I head to Lago Atitlan, where the Hospitalito is.  I start working in the Hospital on Sunday, so I’m soaking the last of my free time up before heading down.  Still, I’m looking forward to it seeing what the Hospital will be like, and getting into the fray.

My second email from my trip to Guatemala last month.  It’s funny, as I read these emails over again, and contrast their style with my blog entries, I’m struck by how different the tone is.  Guess upbeat is the name of the game with fun emails from abroad, not that I’m morose in day to day life, but I suppose I write more realtime emotion when blogging about something occuring at that moment.  Hmm.

February 13, 2009

I’m writing this overdue second installment from Flores, a cute little lakeside town in the north central part of the country.  I headed down that day to Livingston, the Caribbean sea-side town, which was interesting.  Lots of aggressive touts trying to sell you stuff or take you to hotels to get their cut.  I was with a fellow traveler that I met at Rio Dulce and we found a place right on the sea, with straw covered cabanas surrounding a small garden.  After wandering around town for a bit, I tried some tapado for dinner, which is a coconut seafood stew, complete with crab, fish and shrimp.  And when I saw crab and fish…I mean whole crab and whole fish.  It was like three meals in one but demolish it I did anyway (it took me about an hour but oh well).  It was so delicious I was tempted to take some on the road for me (a bit messy I know).  Made an early night of it as I was subsequently in food coma, but I woke up for the sunrise.  The colors of the sky were painted in tones of pink and coral, with the only sound being the quiet lapping of the sea against the docks.  Fisherman in canoes drifted by, casting their nets for the catch of the day, smoothly rowing back when currents took them beyond.  The silohuettes against the backdrop of the rising sun were amazing.  I took pictures. Lots. 🙂

The next morning I headed back up the river to Rio Dulce, and once again was awed by the scenery on the way.  The river is flanked by masses of trees, rising up as far as the eye can sees.  There are cranes and cormorants (sp?) everywhere, and the green of the trees is interrupted by little houses with their laundry hanging out to dry.  Plenty of big boaters around though, I think that the River is a good place to moor for for them.

After arriving back in town, took a Chicken bus (where people are shoved in as much as possible into a remodeled old American schoolbus, complete with colorful decorations and dust) to Finca Paraiso (Paradise Farm).  I had been told of some gorgeous hot springs, and had a half-day to spare.  I was sort of thinking that I wouldn’t really be able to spend several hours there as what would there be to do at a simple hot spring for that long.  Um..I had to drag myself away at the end to catch the last bus back.  It was unbelievable, with wide waterfalls falling down into a cool pool.  The waterfalls were hot. As in as hot as a hot shower.  We all just leaned against the rock and stood in disbelief as the hot water fell over us.  The pool was full of fish that would nip at your feet as you swam to the waterfall on the other side.  Surrounding the area was lush jungle, so I felt as though I was in jurassic park or something.  Absolutely lovely.

The next morning I headed straight to Tikal, to… camp overnight!  Yep, that was an adventure.  More in the next email. 

Once again, I have been horribly neglectful of this travel blog, though I have done my fair share of traveling (considering I’m still in residency.)  Just got back from a trip down to Guatemala, which was phenomenal.  So in the spirit of “whatever works” that is alive and well down in Latin America, I’m going to cut and paste some of my recent emails detailing my travels.  

Monday Feb 9, 2009 

As promised, my first installment from Guatemala…  
I am writing this from Rio Dulce, a little town in the middle of Guatemala.  Am killing some time before taking a river boat down the river to Livingston, which is on the Atlantic Ocean. I arrived in Guatemala on late Wednesday night, and arrived in Antigua via shuttle just before midnight.  The weather there was quite a bit cooler than expected, and it was really windy too, so my first impressions of Antigua consisted of wind, dark, and cold.  Not the best start, but the light of day (without electricity mind you, thanks to the wind) showed a beautiful colonial town with cobblestone streets and colorful homes.  It reminded me some of Granada as the doors there were beautiful and ornate as well.  Needless to say, I have taken plenty of photos!   Antigua is surrounded by 3 volcanoes, which make for stunning scenery.  We managed to catch a sunset over them one night from atop a terrace roof bar.  At any rate, the volcanoes are lovely to look out, not so lovely to climb (though worth it in the end!)  I hiked up Volcan Pacaya, which is still active.  The hike itself takes about 2 hours, and is a pretty steep climb, capped off by a climb up mounds of volcanic ash to get closer to the lava flows.  My shoes are still full of rock and ash days on despite several cleanings out!  And the wind was crazy up top!  At any rate, we stopped about 20 feet from the lava flow, but there were some idiots who got even closer (there were lava rocks tumbling down every now and then).  Stayed for sunset, which was phenomenal.  The whole time in Antigua, I stayed in a cute little hostel, where the owner made everybody feel like one big happy family.  
Anyway, last night I was in a cabana on a hostel about 20 minutes down the river.  In the middle of nowhere, really and in the jungle, complete with lantern-lit boardwalks over the river to connect the cabins.  Got woken up this morning by some bird letting everyone know who was boss at about four thirty this morning.  Luckily it shut up after about 5 minutes and it was back to sleep!
The plan for the rest of the day is to head down the river to Livingston, stay there for a night soaking in all the Caribbean Garifuna culture and eating some good seafood, then back up the river and to Flores and Tikal.

So as I’ve done miserably at keeping this blog even remotely updated, I will not attempt a mad scramble to update you on the last year of my life. Suffice it to say that I was swallowed by the jealous monster that is intern year of residency and managed to survive intact- no doubt thanks to a combination of peristalsis and a life jacket and boots to help slog through the muck.

Second year is a little brighter and I’ve somehow decided on what I want to do with my life after residency: prolong my entrance into the real world, of course. I love working in the pediatric ED, and look forward to coming to work when I do, so I’m aiming for a fellowship in it. So let’s see: Peds residency + Emergency Medicine fellowship = 7 years of procrastination peristalsis. Add that to Medical school and I’m looking at 11 years of training before getting a “real” job. Yes, yes, I know. Residents and fellows do get paid, but it’s pittance compared to the hours worked. I’ll spare you the minimum wage comparison to preserve the blissful ignorance.

How did I get talking about my salary? Isn’t that on the list of topics unmentionable in polite company? At any rate, it isn’t what I went into Medicine for in the first place, so I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining. Oh, wait, I can’t have my cake and eat it too? So much for idealism…

Actually, along those lines, I just finished my CARE (Community Advocacy Resident Education) block; my instructor gave up his lucrative practice, rode to work on a bicycle every morning, and taught us a few things beyond the importance of advocacy. Why is it that this country is so caught up with the importance of money and one’s salary amount? There’s an inherent competition between your income and the income of your peers; such that in order to save friendships from it, salary or money issues are on the list of things not to talk about. But just as people don’t talk about it, doesn’t mean they don’t advertise what they’ve got. Cars, Boats, McMansions. Ridiculous pieces of jewelry that could feed a small nation. But when is enough enough?

There’s a term that’s been coined for it: affluenza.

I was reading an article in the NY Times that underlined how much like a sickness affluenza really is. People in California who are millionaires still feel as though they are poor since there are plenty of people around them who are wealthier. These millionaires put in 6 or 7-day weeks at the office, and wouldn’t dream of an early retirement. The cost of living is such that they probably would have to downsize or move if they chose to do so . I’m mocking it, but really it’s just sad. Have these people travelled to a third world country to know what poverty really is? Heck, forget the travel, just head away from the gentrification and into a homeless shelter. I shouldn’t point just to California; its a country-wide phenomenon, simply exaggerated in grotesque detail in affluent cities. I’ll put in the requisite reminder:

Money ≠ Happiness

Now that that is in, I’m free to talk about my trip to Belize that I took back in April. (This is in theory a travel blog, is it not?) I was really at the end of my rope and needed a break, so I flew down to Cancun and made my way down to Belize and back up again in 10 days. It was utterly lovely- I did all the ‘s‘ words: sunbathe, snorkel, smile, and of course, sample the food! I find talking about it in detail so many months out is a bit awkward, so I’ll just copy in my description of one snorkeling trip emailed to friends.

Porque no es tres en Belize, it’s three!

Time for the next installment…

I’ve made my way down to Belize, and am on a tiny island off its coast, called Caye Caulker. I found my way to Belize the day before yesterday after spending a day or so in Tulum and being stung by sticker shock. Tulum is as beautiful as it was a year ago when I last visited, but it seems that the world of tourists have discovered it in the interim, and things have doubled, if not tripled, in price. Its a shame really, how undiscovered gems become a little duller after rich tourists come with their need for all creature comforts. A plate of french fries cost $6 US to give you an idea. Okay, I’ll get off my soapbox.

I stayed in a hostel in Tulum center, where I met a guy from Washington state who was recovering from Dengue and hobbling around after a nasty motorcycle crash. There’s these speed bumps all over the place, and he was taking a curve at around 65 mph, didn’t see it, and went flying. He knows he’s lucky to still be here, but he’s got gashes all over the place. Between his fevers, scrapes, and limp, all of a sudden I was the consultant physician.

Anyway, hopped a bus headed for Chetumal and crossed the border- what’s the deal with all these departure taxes anyway? It was funny, the bus was a converted old school bus blaring regaton music with all the windows down, heading down these dusty roads in the middle of nowhere–but the second that we crossed the border, it was reggae instead! There’s one song in particular that seems to be on rapid rotation, and it’ll be in my head for weeks, I’m sure.

I met these two Canadians on the way and we all spent the night in a somewhat picturesque, somewhat sketchy little town called Corazol. After mulling it over while slapping away mosquitos, I decided to abandon my plans to head further inland and instead hopped a ferry the next AM (at a godawful for vacation 7am) to Amberguis Caye. We had some scrumptious relatives of the famed New Orleans beignot, except here they are called Fly Jacks. In our immediate quest to get in the water, we found a tourguide to take us out to snorkel at a nearby shipwreck and Hol Chan Marine Reserve. And Damn. I have never seen that many fish, sharks, or stingray before in my life. The coral is alive with fish; most are camoflauged and hard to see unless you know where to look, but some proudly display their multicolor glory. I tried really hard to touch one but they kept darting this way and that. Got some great shots though, thanks to this underwater camera bag I got before I came down. But my three hours out there cost me: my back is now the color of ripe tomato, and is declaring war. Doh! Forgot to put sunscreen there. So I’m hobbling today on Caye Caulker, and have retreated to the hammocks (and air conditioned internet cafes for that matter) in order to ward off eminent peeling. I’ve signed on to do more snorkeling tomorrow as apparently I can’t get enough (punishment or sea life, take your pick).

I’ll be headed back up to Mexico in the next couple days.

 Fish vs. Me : Fish 1, Me 0.