Metalika decides he does actually really like the "girlie dog". Arturo also likes the girlie dog, Metalika does not want to share. Metalika decides to share the girlie dog just a little.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Wherever you go, there you are.
When my family lived in Italy, we were taught that you can never be prepared. Ever. You get to the front of a long line, they tell you to go to another line which then tells you to go back to the other...After which you will probably be missing the proper paper work or they're suddenly closed for this or that reason. There is no concept of time, no serious set of rules because they seem to change every minute or so, and finally, you just have to relax.
Turns out, this extends to Mexico too.
As with Italy, Mexico forces you to relax....even when the situation does not call for such nonsense.
I am speaking, of course, of airport staff and immigration.
We left our house in Melaque just a little bit too late due to...unexpected reasons (Ryan..) so Arturo drove us "Mexico City Style" to the airport 30 minutes away in Manzanillo. We arrived 30 minutes before our flight was supposed to take off. Jessy and I ran inside while the boys unloaded our baggage. We arrived at the check-in counter at the exact moment they were closing the ropes on us, and with a slight attitude, they let us in. We overheard them saying that we would be the last passengers allowed to check-in that day. OhMyGod. We stood there awkwardly with the disgruntled staff waiting, holding our place in front of the counter, waiting for our third passenger (Ryan) and our bags to check. Finally, we were all there. They took our check bags and completely unpacked them on a counter right in front of us. All my careful packing - all my fragile things - unpacked. They even took out every article of clothing from my duffle bag and stuffed it all back in. I frantically tried to coach the man re-packing our fragile gifts, which he let me do..but the other lady was a meanie-head.
Ryan and I stepped up to the counter first, handed the lady (another seriously perturbed lady in need of some spa time and maybe a Xanax and/or a hug. Not from us though, she blew it on that one.) ANYWAY, we handed our passports to her and she looked through them, la di da everything is fine, da da da, "Oh, do you have your visas?"
"Why yes, we do, they are right there in the passport."
---Silence---
"Mmm." After which she began telling us that we had not paid something and had to go back to immigration. See, we'd entered by Bus and we're leaving by Air, so we need a stamp in the shape of a little airplane. Seriously, I could have gotten that thing at a toy store and done it myself.
"So where is immigration?"
"Other side of the airport"
Good thing its a small airport. None the less, it felt like a mile. The gates were all closed, we were cutting it way too close. At this point, I resisted very hard the urge to say - but I will say it now, in the safety of non-face to face confrontation - I TOLD YOU this would happen.
Right.
So.
Now we're sprinting across the airport to the immigration room which was - guess what- EMPTY. After a moment of looking around for ANYONE who knew what was going on, someone nodded towards a button which rang a bell. A guy who was standing, seriously, like 3 feet away, came over and opened it up, told us to take a seat, and began the whole next process.
At this point everyone was speaking English, but Ryan, being used to speaking Spanish to people, made the mistake of speaking Spanish to him to which he said, "Oh you speak Spanish?" and continued the whole thing in the language that I DON'T understand as well as English. I mean, I can get by, but the words you use in immigration aren't exactly "Can I get 2 tacos please?"
So I understood this much:
"Where did you enter from? Ok you needed to pay this. You need to pay a bank - in Chiapas (where we entered Mexico)."
-Great. We're going to have to go back to Melaque to the bank. That's it, we missed it. Arturo came in to tell us that the people at the front desk were getting upset and we're telling them that we would miss the flight. Surprise, the desk people are upset. Turns out they were being dramatic drama pants' and probably just wanted to go home already, because the immigration guy said we could pay him here, and then he called the airplane people and they were fine, and wouldn't leave without us.
Right on.
So we pay him. "Hang on I'll look for some change"
This was my thought process at this point:
NO NO, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??? Don't disappear, we need to leave!!
And he left. Came back a few minutes later. No change. Oh, but there's a cash machine outside.
Seriously? Outside? Do you really think we have time to go take a walk to a cash machine? Because I really really think this plane is going to leave with or without us in about...oh, 10 minutes.
Antonio lent us 100 pesos and we were able to give him exact change.
We ran back to the check-in desk and faced that hateful hateful desk lady who took our passports, looked sceptically at them, began printing our boarding passes and said, "You really HAVE to go NOW." with her death eyes. Daggers. There were daggers coming out of her eyes. I said, "Yes, thank you, if you would just give us our boarding passes we will run our fastest. Thank you." So she sat there holding our passports and printing our boarding passes at her own pace telling us to leave. I'm like, Ummmm yeah, we can't go without boarding passes or passports so....your move.
Its a good thing it was a short flight, because we were sure people were going to throw tomatos at us when we got on the plane. Lucky for us, the airport staff just had some issues and everyone on the actual aircraft was dandy and the plane didn't actually get a late start. In fact, we landed EARLY. Yeah. Did you hear that, Manzanillo airport staff?
Early. Yeup.
The rest of the trip was more or less seamless. We landed in YVR which was lovely up until we stepped outside, at which point I saw my breath and retreated like the groundhog seeing its shadow. Unfortunately, I can't survive off airport food, and I really hate the color scheme in the baggage claim area, so on we went.
And now we are home.
It is still cold.
It snowed a little bit on and off with the rain a few times.
I couldn't help but keep saying, "I should have just gotten a job passing out flyers on the street and stayed in Mexico!"
I would have saved $30 that it cost to leave the country.
But I didn't.
And it was nice to get home, take a shower, drink from the tap, speak my native language, eat cheddar cheese... You know. The little things.
So until the next big adventure, this is more or less the end of part one of these Postcards. I might keep posting at random times, but until the next big adventure, life is probably just going to go right back to normal. Thanks for reading with me..
"Wherever you go, there you are."
Home.
Turns out, this extends to Mexico too.
As with Italy, Mexico forces you to relax....even when the situation does not call for such nonsense.
I am speaking, of course, of airport staff and immigration.
We left our house in Melaque just a little bit too late due to...unexpected reasons (Ryan..) so Arturo drove us "Mexico City Style" to the airport 30 minutes away in Manzanillo. We arrived 30 minutes before our flight was supposed to take off. Jessy and I ran inside while the boys unloaded our baggage. We arrived at the check-in counter at the exact moment they were closing the ropes on us, and with a slight attitude, they let us in. We overheard them saying that we would be the last passengers allowed to check-in that day. OhMyGod. We stood there awkwardly with the disgruntled staff waiting, holding our place in front of the counter, waiting for our third passenger (Ryan) and our bags to check. Finally, we were all there. They took our check bags and completely unpacked them on a counter right in front of us. All my careful packing - all my fragile things - unpacked. They even took out every article of clothing from my duffle bag and stuffed it all back in. I frantically tried to coach the man re-packing our fragile gifts, which he let me do..but the other lady was a meanie-head.
Ryan and I stepped up to the counter first, handed the lady (another seriously perturbed lady in need of some spa time and maybe a Xanax and/or a hug. Not from us though, she blew it on that one.) ANYWAY, we handed our passports to her and she looked through them, la di da everything is fine, da da da, "Oh, do you have your visas?"
"Why yes, we do, they are right there in the passport."
---Silence---
"Mmm." After which she began telling us that we had not paid something and had to go back to immigration. See, we'd entered by Bus and we're leaving by Air, so we need a stamp in the shape of a little airplane. Seriously, I could have gotten that thing at a toy store and done it myself.
"So where is immigration?"
"Other side of the airport"
Good thing its a small airport. None the less, it felt like a mile. The gates were all closed, we were cutting it way too close. At this point, I resisted very hard the urge to say - but I will say it now, in the safety of non-face to face confrontation - I TOLD YOU this would happen.
Right.
So.
Now we're sprinting across the airport to the immigration room which was - guess what- EMPTY. After a moment of looking around for ANYONE who knew what was going on, someone nodded towards a button which rang a bell. A guy who was standing, seriously, like 3 feet away, came over and opened it up, told us to take a seat, and began the whole next process.
At this point everyone was speaking English, but Ryan, being used to speaking Spanish to people, made the mistake of speaking Spanish to him to which he said, "Oh you speak Spanish?" and continued the whole thing in the language that I DON'T understand as well as English. I mean, I can get by, but the words you use in immigration aren't exactly "Can I get 2 tacos please?"
So I understood this much:
"Where did you enter from? Ok you needed to pay this. You need to pay a bank - in Chiapas (where we entered Mexico)."
-Great. We're going to have to go back to Melaque to the bank. That's it, we missed it. Arturo came in to tell us that the people at the front desk were getting upset and we're telling them that we would miss the flight. Surprise, the desk people are upset. Turns out they were being dramatic drama pants' and probably just wanted to go home already, because the immigration guy said we could pay him here, and then he called the airplane people and they were fine, and wouldn't leave without us.
Right on.
So we pay him. "Hang on I'll look for some change"
This was my thought process at this point:
NO NO, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??? Don't disappear, we need to leave!!
And he left. Came back a few minutes later. No change. Oh, but there's a cash machine outside.
Seriously? Outside? Do you really think we have time to go take a walk to a cash machine? Because I really really think this plane is going to leave with or without us in about...oh, 10 minutes.
Antonio lent us 100 pesos and we were able to give him exact change.
We ran back to the check-in desk and faced that hateful hateful desk lady who took our passports, looked sceptically at them, began printing our boarding passes and said, "You really HAVE to go NOW." with her death eyes. Daggers. There were daggers coming out of her eyes. I said, "Yes, thank you, if you would just give us our boarding passes we will run our fastest. Thank you." So she sat there holding our passports and printing our boarding passes at her own pace telling us to leave. I'm like, Ummmm yeah, we can't go without boarding passes or passports so....your move.
Its a good thing it was a short flight, because we were sure people were going to throw tomatos at us when we got on the plane. Lucky for us, the airport staff just had some issues and everyone on the actual aircraft was dandy and the plane didn't actually get a late start. In fact, we landed EARLY. Yeah. Did you hear that, Manzanillo airport staff?
Early. Yeup.
The rest of the trip was more or less seamless. We landed in YVR which was lovely up until we stepped outside, at which point I saw my breath and retreated like the groundhog seeing its shadow. Unfortunately, I can't survive off airport food, and I really hate the color scheme in the baggage claim area, so on we went.
And now we are home.
It is still cold.
It snowed a little bit on and off with the rain a few times.
I couldn't help but keep saying, "I should have just gotten a job passing out flyers on the street and stayed in Mexico!"
I would have saved $30 that it cost to leave the country.
But I didn't.
And it was nice to get home, take a shower, drink from the tap, speak my native language, eat cheddar cheese... You know. The little things.
So until the next big adventure, this is more or less the end of part one of these Postcards. I might keep posting at random times, but until the next big adventure, life is probably just going to go right back to normal. Thanks for reading with me..
"Wherever you go, there you are."
Home.
One More Margarita
(Tuesday night at Kyla's)We were busier than we had been for the entire trip the second we arrived in Melaque, and all that doubled when Jessy got here. Every night and, every day - or whatever was left of them once we finally all rolled out of bed - were full of plans... We never had particularly busy plans. When I say "plan" I don't mean hard work and lots of errands and productive stuff, I'm more along the lines of "We have to get up at a reasonable hour so we can go to the beach, get some sun while its still hot, and still get back in time for dinner at Kyla's..." Tough life... Not only that, but soon after Jessy arrived, a series of celebrations began in honor of St. Patrick's Day. As in, weeks of parties.
(A nice exciting surf day for the guys at Rachito.)
Every night in the square, everyone gathers and dances to the banda music being played in the gazebo.
(The square as viewed from Paco's bar.)
Vendors sell light up toys that give your brain a mild heart-attack, cotton candy, the usual tacos, and several other food items. There is a fair set up on a couple of the side streets complete with rides, games, a giant candy stand, and churros rellenos. The best part of the night is the castillo, a giant tall structure which, when lit, spins, and spits out fire crackers...INTO THE CROWD.
(Standing at the base of the castillo)
Everyone in Melaque gathers around to take a fire shower. You could not get further from the North American safety standards. Kids jump and scream and yell and run around testing how close they can get to the castillo. Every few seconds, one shoots into the middle of the people who THINK they're safe and explodes into a whole new storm of sparks. At the end, the crown flies off into the sky and lands in the crowd. IMMEDIATELY after this, everyone books it. The square pretty much clears within seconds, save for a few clusters of people. There is this sense of urgency in the air and even if you don't know whats going on, you just know you need to get to safety NOW. Kind of like in the movies when "something is coming!". A moment passes and you hear more screaming, you see a group of kids start running and jumping again, anda mass of smoke - And then you see it. A man holds a structure over his head in the shape of a bull. The back is rigged with firecrackers that shoot out at random directions. The man runs, swings, bucks, and generally wreaks as much havoc as possible - and people LOVE it. I've never been so thrilled to get shot at with sparks. Someone always gets some kind of nasty burn - one guy walked into the bar afterward showing off his burnt t-shirt and skin, grinning and laughing, and probably about to do it all again tomorrow night. 
I can be 99% sure I am the only person in the square thinking, "What happens if it catches my hair on fire? What happens if it shoots some kid in the eye??" Nope, no one else cares about that stuff, its just fun - even after the burns of those unlucky few.
(This is a bunch of boots.)
We sort of accidentally always ended up doing the same thing. All the friends would meet up in Paco's bar - best view of the festivities in town. We'd have a few beer, play some cards, watch the castillo, and hang out until after it closes when Paco and the other people who work at bars can come hang out with us after-hours, banda music still going full blast in the square until long after we go home to our beds.
Just a side note before I get distracted again: I LOVE how all the Mexican kids learn to dance. Every person, not just the old people who were around for the foxtrot times, know how to banda. Kids, teenagers, and most impressively, teenage BOYS partner up and dance dance dance the night away. I think everyone should learn at least a couple dances from a young age. Something BESIDES the one-two-step and strange inappropriate grinding motions that happen with the kids up North.
Other than that, we spent as much time as we could on the beach.
(Our footprints and a nice Skim competition in the background.)
The boys did some surfing, but the swell wasn't great until about the last day or two....but there was a huge catch.
(Boys at play @ Ranchito)
(Some good chill dude time.)
A couple days before we left, Ryan, Arturo, Jess, and myself went out to a beach near Melaque so the guys could surf the swell that was reportedly coming in. After a little while out, and a few jelly fish on the beach (more than I'd seen the day before) we saw a girl come out with huge welts all over her body.
(Surfing in an ocean of Jellies)
Little by little other surfers came in and either stayed in or put on wet suits and went back out. Turns out the bay had FILLED with jellyfish that came in with the swell. Not just little clear ones either. Real stinging ones. Some that just make you red, and some that full of make you swell up. We saw Ryan come in first and I could immediately tell something was wrong. For one thing, he was looking into the water and stepping around in strange patterns, but the real frightening thing was the faces he was making. I imagine it was kind of like walking on hot coals...except all over your body. Jess and I couldn't help but giggle a little bit at the boys coming in all twitchy and frantic, but as soon as I saw Ry's chest, it was just unfortunate. All the guys had gotten ravaged by jelly fish.
(Suffering for his art.)
They told us stories about lifting up an arm and having jelly tentacles hanging and wrapped all around them.. It was insane. Needless to say, that beach day got cut shorter than it would have. They wanted to stay out pretty badly since there was FINALLY some good swell, but no one was willing to brave the jellies again. I don't blame them. I stepped in a tidepool full of them and my one foot was enough pain to keep me away from the water that day.
(Transporting surf boards...They get the good seats, we're the second priority.)
(Ryan and I soaking up the last rays of the day @ Ranchito)
(Total surfer dude, dude.)
(Arturo and Kahlua in tattoo form.)
Ok, what else is interesting...
Its hard to write about our days in Melaque after the fact. Most of our days weren't full of crazy stories, just...normal ones. The kind that are difficult to write about without remembering a conversation word for word...which I didn't. I did, however, get better at taking photos so I might have to do the old caption thing and let the words come with the photos.
(Evening skim sessions on the beach in Melaque)
At this moment we are sitting in LAX waiting for our flight to Vancouver. While our Melaque time might be hard to write about, our little trip to the Manzanillo airport today will be all too easy to talk about. Not in a fun way. Be prepared.
(Agua Chile on the beach. Antonio's has some nice Habanero sauce allll over it.)
(Arturo driving us around as usual. Photo cred to Ry!)
(Adrian's dog Spike... Yep.)
(Agua Chile feast on the beach)
(Rockin the surf shorts/cowboy boots/waist belt combo)
(Paco finding his poetic side.)
(Ryan and his first love, Kahlua.)
(Kahlua)
(Going to Arturo's)
(A little game of Slaps)
(Surfer soup)
(This is Ryan, I think..hard to tell from far away, but I was pretty good about taking photos of him this day, so lets say it is.)
(No idea....)
(Awesome.)
(Ryan on one of our last sunset days in Melaque)
(Little Ganja and her special shade tent made by Jessy. The sun was just a little too hot for her little puppy body.)
(Packing up the car just moments before we have to leave for the airport.)
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Eat, Play, Love.
Ok so here is a blog about Melaque....
This isn't easy because I can't think of anything specific to write about. This might be a very short post.
I'll post another one more about the town later when I have more photos of it, this one will have to be more about the people..
We are loving our house - We make food, hide out from the world, watch movies, an hang out with each other. Ryan's sister Jessy is here, which we are also loving. Finally I had someone to watch the Academy Awards with. Ryan doesn't exactly understand nor care why it is important that whats-her-face's dress was so hideous. There's no explaining that kind of thing to a guy like that.
We only do a few things here, really:
-Lounge around the house being lazy and exhausted from staying out too late.
-Go to the beach, order ceviche and margaritas and play cards and scrabble whilst getting our tan on.
Ryan and I have been on "vacation" now for a while, but this is a whole different level. No walking around aimlessly, no catching 16 hour buses. Having said that, its good that this is all temporary. If I don't start waking up in the MORNING and going to sleep in the EVENING again at some point, I can see us all starting to resemble Jeff Bridges as The Dude.
Hey, sidenote..to people who haven't been here, if you have, you have an unfair advantage:
When you think MEXICO does the word CROCODILE come to mind?
Right? No. Maybe Iguana, Tarantula, or Street Dog.
Well, guess what the first thing I saw getting out of the car the other day was?
A street dog!
Just kidding, it was a Crocodile. Not here in Melaque, just north of here, but still. Suddenly I felt like I was in Florida. Again.
That's not the first time I've felt like I was in Florida on this trip... Which is super weird, because usually Florida is not on my mind. Sometimes Nebraska maybe, but that's just because Lady Gaga sings about it loudly in a song that comes on a lot. Also Maine interests me - Probably because I always forget its there, but I bet its nice. Actually, Florida is on my mind when I'm doing my alphabetical US States list (yep, I do it for fun...), but only for a second because its the only "F" state...
Wait, what was I talking about?
Mexico. Right.
Melaque.
Hey! If you're on Salt Spring, and you're at Barb's, get the Melaque Skillet sometime. Its not really reminiscent of Melaque the town, but it IS reminiscent of DELICIOUS.
I should probably tell you something nice now before I go, otherwise you're going to be left with that image.
Nope, can't think of anything.
And on that note, I'm going to the beach.
Adios!
This isn't easy because I can't think of anything specific to write about. This might be a very short post.
I'll post another one more about the town later when I have more photos of it, this one will have to be more about the people..
We are loving our house - We make food, hide out from the world, watch movies, an hang out with each other. Ryan's sister Jessy is here, which we are also loving. Finally I had someone to watch the Academy Awards with. Ryan doesn't exactly understand nor care why it is important that whats-her-face's dress was so hideous. There's no explaining that kind of thing to a guy like that.
The boys at the lookout
We only do a few things here, really:
-Lounge around the house being lazy and exhausted from staying out too late.
-Go to the beach, order ceviche and margaritas and play cards and scrabble whilst getting our tan on.
Beach time, at Bigote's
-Go out with friends at night to their various work places. Paco owns a bar in town, Adrian works at a nice restaurant on the water in the next town, Kyla cooks a mean dinner and invites everyone over sometimes. Jessy and Ryan, knowing everyone, always have a place to go to see someone and that usually involves eating some good food, or at least having a drink.
This is me trying to get a good look at Ryan's hand. I did, but then I forgot to use it. I suck at cheating.
Up at the lookout before Jessy got here. Metalika, Me, Paco, Ry
This was all the girls complaining about how awful we look in photos until Kyla's husband told us to shut up and take a picture with each other. To all of our surprise, we actually all like this one. Chloe, Jessy, Kyla.
Up at the lookout before Jessy got here. Metalika, Me, Paco, Ry
This was all the girls complaining about how awful we look in photos until Kyla's husband told us to shut up and take a picture with each other. To all of our surprise, we actually all like this one. Chloe, Jessy, Kyla.Ryan and I have been on "vacation" now for a while, but this is a whole different level. No walking around aimlessly, no catching 16 hour buses. Having said that, its good that this is all temporary. If I don't start waking up in the MORNING and going to sleep in the EVENING again at some point, I can see us all starting to resemble Jeff Bridges as The Dude.
Ryan, as you can see is super cute and not at all Jeff Bridges-y
Hey, sidenote..to people who haven't been here, if you have, you have an unfair advantage:
When you think MEXICO does the word CROCODILE come to mind?
Right? No. Maybe Iguana, Tarantula, or Street Dog.
Well, guess what the first thing I saw getting out of the car the other day was?
A street dog!
Just kidding, it was a Crocodile. Not here in Melaque, just north of here, but still. Suddenly I felt like I was in Florida. Again.
That's not the first time I've felt like I was in Florida on this trip... Which is super weird, because usually Florida is not on my mind. Sometimes Nebraska maybe, but that's just because Lady Gaga sings about it loudly in a song that comes on a lot. Also Maine interests me - Probably because I always forget its there, but I bet its nice. Actually, Florida is on my mind when I'm doing my alphabetical US States list (yep, I do it for fun...), but only for a second because its the only "F" state...Wait, what was I talking about?
Running late for dinner at Kyla's, and we get blocked off by a passing parade...Of course!
Mexico. Right.
Melaque.
I had to take a picture because this was the WORST hand I could possibly have had.
Mmmmmelaque.....Hey! If you're on Salt Spring, and you're at Barb's, get the Melaque Skillet sometime. Its not really reminiscent of Melaque the town, but it IS reminiscent of DELICIOUS.
Jessy, Arturo, Kahlua, and Ganja taking a beach walk
So anyways....I got five bites on one toe yesterday. FIVE. Not 2, not 3, FIVE. On how many toes? ONE! Now it looks like I have some kind of skin disease on that one. Yeah you're welcome for THAT image. Also, I scratch them mercilessly without being aware of actually doing it, so now you can see where EVERY bite I've had this whole trip was. It's so hot, just wait till it catches on in Hollywood. Spotted legs. Lady Gaga will be all over that.I should probably tell you something nice now before I go, otherwise you're going to be left with that image.
Nope, can't think of anything.
Ryan and Paco having a good bromantic moment.
Two more weeks left in the trip and for Ry and myself, its starting to feel like we're going home any day now. Two weeks isn't a lot for us, and we both know how fast that can go. For now we're soaking in as much more Mexico as we can get before its back to the grind in the great North. From here, Salt Spring feels like a Jack London novel. Like I'm going to go home and start living off the land in the snow, fighting wolves and cooking squirrels over a campfire. I'll have to start chewing tobacco and then it will turn my beard red and freeze and break off. I don't know how that's relevant, but I read Call of The Wild once and that scene just stuck with me for some reason.And on that note, I'm going to the beach.
Adios!
Arturo, Kahlua, Me, Ryan having chats and coconuts at La Manzanilla
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)