Eight Egotistical Egoists Eagerly Echoing Egotistical Ecstacies

Playa Sayulita- 10,11,12 de Julio 2012 I had always heard very positive feedback from anyone who has ever visited playa Sayulita which is 40 km north of Puerto Vallarta on the pacific coast, in the estado of Nayarit. Early Tuesday morning Carli and I jumped in a cab that took us all the way across Guadalajara to the Central Nueva bus station where the most popular busline in Mexico; Primera Plus has its main station. The bus was surprisingly comfortable with reclining seats and plenty of leg room. From Central Nueva we traveled 4 hours northwest back through the tequila lands, rolling hills and expansive lava fields to the little town of La Penita de Jatamba 20 miles north of Sayulita. For security reasons the bus would not take us to the entrance of Sayulita since it wasn’t one of their designated stops, so we had to jump onto another more local bus that would take us the remaining 30 minutes. Upon entering Sayulita, I knew I was going to love the town. It was the quintessential Mexican pueblo with cobblestone roads that followed the gradual slope of the terrain and eventually faded into sand directly in front of a beautiful bay. Our hostel Casa Amistad was about a 3 minute walk from the beach. Luckily it was the slow season and we were the only guests besides Sofia, our new friend the Swedish caretaker. At this point we had been in Mexico for 8 days and had only eaten tacos and vegetarian food. My stomach was begging for a change up and begged me to stop at the first fresh fish tostada stand we approached. My god was I glad I listened to my stomachs urges for fresh pargo, ceviche de camaron, and full size camarones filled my plate. Besides the traditional hot sauces that accompany every table at every taco joint, there were a few new varieties of which we eagerly welcomed. Upon making my way down to the beach to round up a surf board, I met a cool local surf instructor named Juan and he gave me all the local knowledge. I had just missed the swell by a day unfortunately, but he was sure it would pick up again the following afternoon. The owner of the surf board rental and lesson hut came out and chatted with us. Her name was Patty o Patricia and her and her husband moved down here 16 years ago from Portland Oregon. Her husband spends the summers in the states as a Steelhead fly fishing guide, and then the rest of the year surfing and enjoy the warm waters and colorful vibes of Mexico, my kind of people! They raised two sons in Sayulita and found a Canadian expatriate tutor to teach them what the waves and streets could not. Both the sons are pro surfers for Mexican surf companies and were away competing in El Salvador, so I never got to meet them. For the next three days we lived the typical beach scene life; sun, surf, reading, food, cervezas, more sun, beach runs, more tasty tacos, a lot of small talk, and just mellowed out. I only surfed a total of 4 hours and much to my regret was forced to use a long board since the waves were just two small. There is no need to document every encounter of our mini beach vacation, but I will share two anecdotes that stood out. For our second night Sofia told Carli and I about a fun place with live music. After a few entertaining card games the three of us headed out to Don Patos which is a very narrow three story bar by the main plaza. It was very rustic and felt as though it would collapse from the live reggae that was blaring within. This is where Carli informed me that she “hates” reggae (I didn’t know that was possibility) so we made our exodus and headed straight for the Ocean. The night was calm, there was a thunderstorm in the distance, and the water was at least 84 degrees making the perfect formula for an evening swim! We ended up playing in the water for a full hour and never once cooled down since the water is so warm this time of the year. It was extra entertaining because in a think Swedish accent Sofia would yell our names “Kaylie” or “ Romney” in hopes we would be right next to her at all times given that she wasn’t the most natural water person I’ve encountered. This was Carli’s first tropical late night ocean swim, and seeing how excited she was made me smile but at the same time a wave of nostalgia came over me once I thought about the good old days in Costa Rica where a late night ocean swim was pretty standard. My My It has been a wonderful life!

During our last night we decided to just cruise around the town and of course “smash some tacos” which in addition to “sick” and “ching ching chingale” we say far too often. In a poorly lit little taco hut we recognized and Kiwi that we had met in Guadalajara. We went up and chatted to him and he introduced us to his buddy Miles whom was staying in the same hostel. We sat down and had a few Pacificos, and as the dialogue continued, it turns out Miles and I had much more in common than we would have guessed. We are both Oregon boys, surf, fluent in Spanish, studied at the University of Oregon, Studied abroad in Argentina, then found out we both studied abroad in the same city; Rosario. There were just too many coincidences and I had this funny feeling that there were more to come, so I looked over at Miles and asked who his host family was…”Marilyn Moran” the very same host mother I lived with. I was in total shock and had goose bumps covering my arms. What are the odds, a random little taco stand a tiny Mexican beach town…What the hell? Wild eh? Anyway after the initial shock faded out, we continued to talk and made plans to meet up in Guadalajara, which we did! The ride back to Guadalajara is only worth mentioning for how awful it was. Four hours of windy roads with two kids behind us both vomiting on their laps , the smell was so repulsive that I too almost lost it, but somehow mustered enough strength to hold it in. I would much rather be physically uncomfortable than to have to be forced to breath in a perpetual stank with the occasional whiff of parents attempts to mask it with cheap cologne!

El Mercado Libertad "San Juan de Dios" is quite the experience. It is a three story public market spanning the length of three massive city blocks, where you can find anything you could possibly imagine. In our quick jaunt into its depths I saw; ceramics, belts, shoes (boots, heels, sandals, imitation nikes...), fruits, meats, strange toys, paintings, cheap electronics, rabbits, parakeets, puppies, exotic juices, neon lights and way more. Basically everything I would never purchase, well, except for the juices and some coconut meat which I devoured... Oh, that is a lie, I also picked up a pretty sweet as in piece of junk jump rope to assist in my urban workouts!

Thursday July 5th- Tonalá Jalisco. Only a five block walk from our hostel is the old San Fransisco church which is surrounded by horse drawn carts on one end, and a major bus stop on the other. As tempting as it was to hop in a poorly treated / over heated horses carriage we continued on in search of bus 231. For 6 pesos we caught a ride on a bald tired bus driven by an overly aggressive young driver with poor hygiene. I have ridden buses in many countries but due to the narrow streets and our drivers need for speed, I was on the edge of my seat for the duration of the 35 minute ride! The reason we headed to Tonalá was because on Thursdays all the artists come out and set up shop in the heart of the city. The streets were filled with thousands of tented booths displaying jewelery, paintings, ceramics, scrumptious local foods and then of course further down all the knock of clothing brands. I was surprised with the quality and ingenuity of the crafts in this town. After intense exploration Carli adroitly spotted a western stores entrance behind on of the tents. If you know either of us, then you know we like our boots, so naturally we were headed in! This little store had about 200 different boots on display as well as hand made leather belts with all sorts of neat embroidery. Above the boots, the walls were covered with phenomenal Mexican Wrangle shirts. The owner / super smooth salesman don Victor told us that in addition to what we saw he could easily have some boots custom made for us. He instructed us to pick out certain details of existing boots and patterns and then from there we could design our very own "botas hechas en Mexico", that would be ready within a week. I was originally going to go with brown square tips with a band of borrego (big horn sheep) but Victor said that although it is exotic, the Borrego doesn't have the best longevity, so I ended up with Bull hide! Carli went a little more exotic than I and will soon be sporting Boots with Cobra skin! In the end Victor is very content with the price we are paying, and we are beyond pleased with the total cost. So there you have it, a mutually beneficial exchange of goods!

We proudly stepped back into the lively streets in a state of euphoria from our exciting new purchase. We didn't buy anything of significance other than those boots and many tasty treats from the streets, but for the record, if I lived in Mexico, this is where I would come to load up on art and numerous house hold items!

Vaqueros, Tequila, Goyte and transvestites...

Saturday July 7th- Today is a mandatory mellow day after 5 days of non stop action. Yesterday was about as busy of a day as I have ever experienced. Forget chronological order, I'm going to jump all over this page with details of our adventures. Yes...I slept until 11:15am today, and damn right I earned it! I'm going to focus on last night before I go into details of the weeks more traditionally educational experiences... Picture this... Carli booted up with a clean white summer dress. Myself in a brand new Mexican wrangler shirt tucked into dark jeans with a hand made leather belt embroidered with proud roosters every six inches, and of course I was sporting my Stetson boots. Miguel our new buddy was looking ever so suave with his slick black leather jacket, freshly ironed white dress shirt, black slacks and shoes, and of course being a proper mexican he had a silver chain necklace dangling from his neck. Now that you have met the main characters, time to describe the scene... Let me start by saying this is after a ten hour day of driving through the scorching heat of the Tequila Zone and drinking at least 16 different types of Tequila which I'll go into more detail later on...Miguel picked us up and then drove to his friends parking garage from where we jumped in a cab and went about 10 minutes in only god knows what direction of the city center...We knew our destination was near for the cabs windows were vibrating with heavy bass, and a chaotic onslaught of vehicles were approaching in every direction. Mexican cowboys with pounds of gel in their obsidian black hair filled the streets along with beautiful women in remarkably tight colorful pants. I suddenly forgot about how tired I was and quickly came back to life. Banda music was blasting and in the distance I could distinguish some tasty electronic beats! Once past a surprisingly intensive admission process, we were greeted by two tequila girls who gave us some complimentary but watered down shots.

After wading through the crowds of young lovers, cowboys on the prowl, and drunken bigote sporting lads we arrived to the main stadium which was a half moon with about 30 rows of sardine packed aficionados. I thought a rodeo in the states was fun, but this was something else entirely. There was a live mariachi band above the stalls where the animals and vaqueros enter the stadium, and about 4 different lasso experts concurrently displaying their clever tricks. The announcer not only described the scene, but quite frequently would break into song in rhythm with the Band. Once the Alcohol started flowing and the night progressed the crowd got louder and not a soul was sitting down. I have never seen sexier dancing, the banda music requires a tight close dance that is our equivalent of grinding, but far more passionate and skillful. I knew I loved Mexico and the culture, but looking up at those stands and taking in the spirit and incredible energy the crowd was omitting, I realized I fucking LOVE Mexico...

We made some new friends, enjoyed the show, drank some coronas, and then once the lethargy started to really sink in, we headed back towards our neck of the woods. You can't go out at night here without a drunken visit to a taco stand. It turns out that our hotel is in the epicenter of the homosexual community, so naturally we had to hit up the taco stand "gay tacos". What a treat let me tell you, smashing delicious tacos to the sounds of strange electronic music from the gay club on the adjacent corner while partners paraded out into the streets and into dark corners. One other thing we learned was that apparently the transvestite prostitutes love the corner of Madero and Galeana meaning we had to walk through 4 of them to get to our room while they made smooching sounds at me for the last 60 feet of our walk. What an entertaining night, and my god was I happy to reach my bed...

Mexican Inception

Well after more than a two year hiatus I figure it is about time to start documenting my adventures once again. My primary reason is that I feel I rarely get a chance to write these days and can feel my vocabulary hastily dwindle away. The second reason is of course to have a documented account of my adventures to look back on since unfortunately, my memory seems to be fading at the same rate as my vocabulary. And my final reason is to entertain my friends and family with tales of my escapades through foreign lands. So with that attempt of an introduction I shall begin... Most of you who will be reading this are pretty caught up with me and my life but for those of you who are not, let me indulge you... My sister Carli and I headed south to Guadalajara enrolled in a Teaching English as a Foreign Language course. Our initial flight was cancelled and we ended up arriving 30 hours later than we originally anticipated. Once landed we quickly cleared customs and jumped in a taxi to our surprisingly spacious and tidy room at the Posada San Pablo. After a quick shower we headed into the ITTO school to meet our classmates and teachers. I'd say about an hour in, Carli and I locked eyes and gestured to head out into the hall for a little pow wow. During that little discussion we both expressed our lack of motivation to be stuck in that classroom for another 4 weeks while the wild streets of Guadalajara pumped with action, beckoning us to come explore every single corner. We decided to give it until the end of the day and then decide whether or not we were going to commit. Let's just say that here we are, day #3 and haven't been back to the physical classroom, but rather have been immersed in the intensive life study program taught to us by the streets of Guadalajara!

Our home for the month is located on Calle Madero entre calles Donato Guerra y Ocampo, Which translates to right in the epicenter of all the Centro Historico action. The streets are constantly filled with students, professionals, viejitos and every once in 3 days a fellow tourist! The exhaust from bald tired old buses mixes with the aromas of delicious pastries and hundreds of taco stands dispersed at least 3 per side of every block. We are but a five minute walk to the cities most iconic attraction; the Catedral Metropolitana. Within fifteen minutes we can be at the front door of palaces, theaters, museums, Cathedrals, be splashed by the numerous fountains, post up on plaza and park benches, and of course pose for photos below gargoyles and other eerie sculptures.

On our second day after hours of walking the aged streets, we impulsively popped our heads into an enticing old building that just happened to have only been open to the public for less than two years. It was the Museo de Arqueología del Occidente. It was originally a giant convent that housed around 150 nuns. The amable guia told us that for the original construction in el año 1700 a group of men came and worked until the last stone was set and then disappeared without requesting a single cent. Naturally the word spread that angels had descended from the heavens to aid in the construction of this lovely convent. Unfortunately after one hundred years the Mexican military didn't honor this holy place and decided it would be an ideal location for their head quarters. The transition was quick, but not pleasant. The residents were quickly disposed of, some to the streets, some to their deaths and the entire Library was destroyed, eliminating all 200 plus years of records and collections. For 96 years up until 2010 this was the Military Generals head quarters in the city of Guadalajara. Our guide Marisela Guzman had been working there for about a year and after a little persuasion by flattery I convinced her to take us to the roof. She had never been up there and had to ask the director for his keys, but sure enough he handed them over and to the rooftop we went. Let's just say that I can't think of a better introduction to a new city than from a roof top view. Guadalajara is even more expansive than I had pictured and it was astonishing how many steeples reached into the clouds in every direction.