Irresponsible Reality: Part Two Cultural Diversity

The wind finally blew us off the road but we made it a few more clicks closer to home. Chris knew this cute little place in Beaver to bed down called the DeLano Motel. It’s less than $80 usd all in. The guy that owns the place is a great business man of middle eastern decent. The place is cute on the inside and has a nice patina shall we say? The personal touch he put into the detail of the rooms reminded me of someone who takes pride in his business. In this rural area of Utah this motel would be known as “a dive hotel.” I’ve learned not to judge a book by its cover. The Hotel McCoy in Tucson, Arizona, has the same vibe. You drive into the McCoy Hotel and it is a converted storage shed facility. The rooms are retro in style and very quaint.

While in Mexico, we mostly lived in our van and boon-docked or dry camped. We always tried to find a local eatery or roadside taco shop to get at least one meal a day. It actually costs less to buy a meal out, than to buy all the ingredients and make it for ourselves. Once a week we needed to find a hot shower or a place to use our own and refill drinking water. You could always get a room for $17 usd and use it solely for the hot shower and flush toilet. Costs a bit more than a camp spot on the beach, but the hot shower makes up for it. You then can park the van in a safe parking lot. Score! Two birds with one stone.

The Bufadora Hotel in Acension, BCS, Mexico, was one of those places that was a cute “dive hotel” by European standards… but we aren’t in Kansas anymore Dorothy.

When we pulled into Acension, it was a normal windy day on the Pacific side of the Baja and guess what… We were stuck in the van by the hurricane force winds. We found the hotel by a referral from my cousin, who lives in Acension permanently, at least for now. They had two small rooms around the back of the complex. The room had a large double bed a window, night stand, ceiling fan, and typical plastic chair. The bathroom had a warm shower, depending on who was showering, and a flush toilet. Best part of the hotel was the patio area which ended up facing the perfect way to block the wind and enjoy the sun. Everyday we’d gather on the back porch and enjoy the sun and the view. The tide coming in would cause the waves to crash on the rock buttress and blow up through the natural blow holes. The sound was thunderous.

The owner is a well known savvy business woman, whose personal touches made you look past the rusted chairs, rotting fish corpses, and the garbage thrown over the cliff side. Culture… don’t pass judgement.

As you drive through the small towns all up and down the Baja, you see the squalor and the pride side by side. Children play, woman gather on the porches and prepare the big meal for the day. Bright colored clothes hang in rows on drying lines. I am but a passer by on my way to where ever the road takes me. I am in their country, a visitor with permission to explore. Our money is needed in the local communities and those towns that have learned to entice the adventurers, keep a clean area and put pride in every taco, quesadilla, and pollo they prepare for their clients do well. These people are very proud, and kind.

I fought the urge the first few days to be super vigilant and to not be plain old paranoid. Why? Fear of the unknown. Fear because of a prejudice that exists in the recesses of my mind from childhood and cultural conditioning. As I walked across the parking lot of our hotel last night in Page, Arizona, I can honestly say that I felt more vulnerable and fearful walking there than I ever did in the Baja. I never encountered a crazed drug addict with a gun or homeless people lying around. The locals took care to be quiet and respectful and take care of their own. So many horrible pictures painted by the media, state departments and travel advisors that when you see the reality of the kindness of the locals and the communities, you wonder if you’re in the right country.

The people we encountered were always friendly and eager to talk to you. If anyone engages you, local, nomads or transplant, better not be in a hurry. This relaxed pace is a way of life that spills over into everything. For example, if you order food or a drink, it will take some time for it to arrive but may be the best meal you’ll ever have, and after you ask for the bill, your pleasant mood will not be dashed… drinks and a full meal for four people… less than $300 pesos or $15usd. It’s hard to believe such good service and great food can be so cheap… by whose standards?

The conversation must be had… COVID in Mexico… we met a gentleman in El Trufino who came out of a clinic door and announced to us that he had just gotten his shot and he was proud to do his part. The man was thinking about others as well as himself. Every establishment took our temperature, required masks and cleaning your hands, before entering because COVID has effected so many families on the Baja, no one argues, travelers and locals alike. Some had lost their entire family on the main land. Everyone respects everyone. How kind. I know a country that could take a lesson from these kind, hard working people. Masks all around, even in outdoor settings. End of subject.

Religion and celebrations seem to always go hand in hand in most Latin countries. The predominant religion is Catholicism and these lovely people have made it fun! The traditional Mexican folk lore and celebrations have been incorporated into the catholic celebrations. Missionaries for hundreds of years have been trying to break this spirit but it seems that a compromise was made, or the Mexicans are just stubborn. This religious stance makes their family key. It was not unusual for an entire family of 9 to pile out of a Ford truck at the beach and spend the day swimming, eating and drinking. We always seemed to be included and they would send over the person who could speak the most English and ask us to join in. We were always served first as the family watched… a bit uncomfortable the first few times but how can you say no? Fresh ceviche anyone? There is a lot of hand jesters and laughing as we all try to communicate.

Traveling has afforded us with experiences beyond our wildest dreams. An open mind and acceptance can take you into a world feared by so many who don’t. “Women shouldn’t travel alone…”

“You will get mugged or worse…”

If I listened to the naysayers my life would be very boring.

Mexican families are matriarchal and no family would ever abandon their elder parents outside of their own home. The men respect women. Families are a community affair… meaning everyone makes sure that if help is needed for a struggling family, everyone steps in. In a way I truly think that they have much better respect for family of all ages.

My friends have moved to Loreto, settled in, and bought an 18 year old house and Louisa, who has been the housekeeper since, came with the house. She and her daughter had been taking care of the cooking, cleaning and whatever was needed since the house was built. Sound strange? Actually it is common to allow the house keepers to keep their job. It’s her livelyhood and source of income for 18 years. They want to keep their jobs and continue to be a productive member of the community, but also support her family. One of the hardest things for a traveler, seeker, an outsider to understand is we can completely ruin the lives of the native peoples if we try to impart our gringo views, meaning… our wealth and extravagant life styles are not theirs. We shouldn’t pity them or try to save them. Guidelines should be observed in tipping and paying for services. We could literally set them up to fail if you should move away. We all spend more when we make more. The concern is… the gringos can always leave.

There is so much more to say but we are coming up on our stop for the night. We just drove down a road in Beaver, Utah that had every religion covered. One denominational church sits beside a different and so forth and so on for 12 churches. I bet that only on Sunday, if ever, will this town wake up to the sound of the church bells. Those are things I will miss from our travels into the neighborhoods and supporting the local economy. I hope that things have changed… I am afraid though that my hopes will not be found so I will let things be as they are and just be.

An Awakening…

The Tribe has Gathered

The stirring ceases

The mind clears

The thoughts drift away

We sit as one tribe

The moment we all sit silent

I can hear my heart beat

The tiny birds in the canyon

Crows talking above

The wind in the rocks

The incense burningQ

We meet as one

Each in their power

The silence brings tears to my unfocused eyes

I drift off…

I am Alex the protector

The strong warrior

The wild child

I seek instant gratification

I would fight to the end for the Tribe

I am LJ the broken hearted

I feel the tribes pain as my own

My tears are your tears

This world is beautiful

And I am home here

This world speaks to me

It listens to me

The animals are my friends

I am Aubrey the lost one

I am scared

This world is big

I miss my new friends

I only want a hug

I am Otter the Empath and Healer

I am bodhichitta

I am shaman

I have a heart of love and compassion

This is my world

I walk with the tribe

Into the unknown

And comfort the fear

The universe is my father

The earth my mother

I am most powerful

I am Butch the two spirited

I have the energy of love

Misdirected at times

I am the jester

I bring overwhelming love to my new tribe

I need direction

I am Zak the Poet

I hear the thoughts

I am the scribe

The record keeper

The story teller

I am powerful yet equal to the tribe

I hold wisdom and knowledge of the ancients

Together we live in this vessel

This mind, heart and soul

Together we are one united

A balanced driving force

Individual we loose the focus

I return to my soft stare

The wind cools my body from the heat of the sun

My mind calm

My body relaxed

Good day world

ja 2020

My”self”

So fragile am I… I don’t even exist. I’ve fought for my being… alive, vibrant. I hold a place on this earth, a marker of an empty shell, only now willing to be… to exist. Not to defend my”self” any longer… but to recover and heal… to risk opening my heart. The small chamber that holds it safe so I thought. A Pandora’s box… a myriad of thoughts, jumbled emotions… a small girl wanting to live. Walk through this door with me, guide me, keep me safe and don’t run away when I breakdown. Just love me and tell me it will be all right… I’ll believe you… I’ve always believed someone. The path is hard… but I am harder, I’m still here aren’t I? My tears may be endless but my resolve even more. I want to believe… I want to exist and no longer defend… my “self”

Decompressing

One of the reasons we are traveling to so many strange and new places it to “try them on for size”. Last year we went to Cotacachi, Ecuador… before that Belize, before that Costa Rica (8 times), Mexico, Peru, Chile, Argentina and all over the Caribbean.

The last time we went to Panama our experience was less than a good one. One overpowering event molded our opinion. The fact that one company took advantage of five gringos by putting us on a rafting trip on a river deemed unsafe by SINAPROC, and putting our lives in danger, was an impression that burned deep. We chose to give Panama another chance. This time… the Islands of Bocas del Toro.

Now I’m not saying we are professional travelers, and heaven knows we are not perfect. Not saying that every now and then we compare our lives at home to what we see and experience in our host country. We both are looking for those special places we can settle into for a while, some place to call home, even if it’s for a month or two. One important thing we look for is how the indigenous people take care of their homes, their people, their natural resources. How do they treat travelers?

Bocas was a bit of a let down. Online it was painted as this beautiful “Caribbean type” place. The people, bright eyed, smiling and inviting… an up and coming eco-friendly set of islands with beautiful beaches. What we found on this trip was far from that. Not to say it was all bad… we made it enjoyable and definitely relaxing. In decompressing though we found that it was a bit disappointing.

Now let me say that I was not expecting an “American 5 star resort”. When the places you are staying average 80-100 dollars a night, you would think that they would be top notch. In our experience, a country where the people are living a modest life, at best, the locals and expats usually rent their homes at lower rates… and if they do charge a premium… at least there should be screens on the windows, a working fridge and stove, and a bed big enough for two normal sized adults, not one child. The property should be free of trash and debris. When they say you can snorkel “right off the peer”, there should be some resemblance of a reef or at least some fish.

I guess we are partly to blame for wanting to believe in people and what we see on their websites. Believe that those that live there… depend on tourists to improve their current station in life… these people would want to modify their behaviors, clean up their beaches, repair their homes and not overcharge their guests, and lastly not prey on visitors. Perhaps they should not over embellish what they have to offer, so that when we arrive, we find what was presented online.

Please… I know that there are many places that cater to travelers, but we are not “rich”, we cannot afford 200-300 dollars a night… or more. The restaurants we had to eat in charged prices like a European restaurant but with local cuisine and their establishments were in disrepair. We were afraid to walk on the floors thinking the rotted boards might fall through. Walking on the boardwalk trails around the marine park we visited, was like taking your life in your hands. One gentleman told us that they have cut back flights to the islands. It’s not because they want to punish local tourism, but perhaps that more and more people, like us, are seeing this in real life and seeing the pretty pictures painted are far from the truth. Sad…

As a travel writer I feel I have an obligation to tell it like it is. This is my opinion of course. I understand that countries try their best to grab their share of the million dollar tourist industry. The internet has made the world a small place. Just don’t believe all the pictures… or everything you read. At the same time these countries/people have an obligation to at least try to represent what is true and accurate… not just from a Tuesday when they raked the beach, photoshopped the buildings and used a wide angle lens to portray a fantasy world. When we arrive it is a huge letdown. We spend hard earned money and dedicate our precious limited vacation time to this online fantasy. Not only does it harm us but the people who are trying to improve their lives through our visits.

I don’t really know if there is anyone to blame… at the same time, perhaps the locals might make a concerted effort to clean up, make repairs, and improve the level of service they offer. Take pride in their country and the impression indelibly etched into the tourists mind. Feedback is everywhere. We need to stop sugar coating it and be honest. Change will never occur if we continue to paint a rosy picture of a destination in serious need of renovation and cleanup. Travel abroad can be dangerous, not only to your safety but also to your health. If we don’t sound the alarm, and get honest, nothing will change. The next time we are afraid to hurt someone’s feelings… do you really think they will care if you are mugged or seriously hurt just walking around? Travelers beware.

While we were in Bocas del Toro, a lady on a jungle path on Isla Sorte was mugged walking on a recommended trail, another was lost on Basementos where there is a known gang who hate the gringos on their island and hold up people at gun point. My partner almost fell backwards while stepping off a floating swimming pad, provided by the lodge we were staying at,onto their dock which had a loose board. Had I not had her hand she could’ve been seriously injured only three days into our two week trip. If you don’t think it happens…think again!

A Night on The Town… Bocas

After a nap in the middle of a rainy day, we decided that we would head “out on the town”. Now Chris and I are not much for partying… those days are long gone… at least the staying out till 2am drinking and dancing. No I am afraid we are a bit wiser and more controlled than in our younger days. That’s not to say we won’t go out for a nice dinner, meet strangers who become friends, drink a few glasses of wine, have a good beer at a local brewery or take a long walk around a new town. Last night we did a little of each.

We went out to a Pizzeria called Ciao Pizza in Big Creek, Isla Colon, http://www.ciaoepizza.worldpress.com , They had real wine, not the boxed Clos wine served everywhere in the islands. The pizza was cooked in a wood fired oven and the atmosphere was quaint. We met some folks that had just arrived on the island and warmly invited them to join us. Filiberto came strolling in and viola we had a party. We shared good food, good wine and listened as Filiberto told us of his exodus from Venezuela.

We next strolled down the muddy road side to a local brewery. There we found some locals enjoying some good craft beer and more conversation. http://www.bocasbrewey.com. We sat through a few rounds until the heaviness of the night air lulled us into a drowsiness that followed a great day!

The Artist’s House on The Sea

The third stop on our journey was The Artist’s House on The Sea, on Isla Colón. We packed up to head out from Un Puerto Particular via water taxi back to the main island of Colón. We notified Filberto of our arrival and planned to meet him at the dock at 13:00. Filberto said he would be driving a Kia Double Cab and wearing a leather hat. He said we wouldn’t be able to miss him. In Island time he showed, as planned, and he was wearing a top hat made of leather… no doubt he made it. He is an eccentric type of fella. His thick accent was easy to listen to. He carried himself well. On the short ride to our new home he told us a quick synopsis of his life. Recommended eating establishments and told us how to get about.

Upon arriving we entered a small mud path that was lined with garbage. He explained that the neighbor was piling it there to eventually claim the property for himself… some convoluted law about him using the property that eventually he could claim it as his own since the owner didn’t care to take care of it? We were getting used to seeing large garbage piles sitting about… this was not the act of nature but of man.

Shaking off the vision, we entered into Filberto’s domain. There was a small wood planked walkway that lead to a charming three story building. Once inside he showed us his works of art. He told us about building this house and his own house 300 mts off the main house. We have left Kansas Dorothy. The home was basically three large bedrooms with three baths and one stand-up shower on the main level. The bathroom on the second level has a shower that you sit on the toilet to use. The third floor bath is tucked away in a small slanted closet, good for children but an adult might find it difficult to use. The main level has the cooking area. Stove, shower, fridge, table and chairs and a small washing machine. Totally open to the world.

On each level there was an eclectic assortment of art work. Filberto gave us a tour and explained each one, where he found it or where his inspiration came from. His art was expressive and down right strange… but totally reflected his demeanor and personality. The more I watched him, listened to him and grew to respect his choice of lifestyle, I couldn’t shake my grandfathers image from my head.

He left us and departed to his home on the water in a small Zodiac inflatable boat… that no longer was inflated but served his purpose of traveling to his small home on The Sea. His home was now ours…