 |
| Rosa de Jamaica - a hibiscus relative |
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| Sansevieria, Mother-in-Laws Tongue, Snake Plant |
Monday, December 29, 2014
Flor de...[Part I]
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Happy Holidays & New Year
Happy Holiday Season 2014 from El Jocotel, specializing in nondemoninational tranquility, El Jocotel Blog and The Tzununa' Bread and Coffee Shop, where everything is for sale.
15 months in Guatemala for me now.
A while back, I met this guy J*, a tall, imposing, vaguely Mormon, gringo builder. He was putting up a hotel his family would manage in Panajachel. He told me openly that a good part of their business would come from visiting religious groups. We got to talking about Mayan workers. I really can't remember what lead him into it, but at point during that chat, he looked right at me and declared, "These people are the devil." At that point, with my own crew newly on the payroll, questioning to myself how religious he really was, his comment did not resonate with me. It also shocked me.
Like coffee and mony other things, integrating into a foreign village and neighborhood drastically different from my own carries a burden of knowledge. This burden includes petty(mostly) theft. Things disappear, not only from my place. The locals survive in this difficult location because they've figured it out over many years. For every challenge, they figure it out and magically it often seems like they don't get wet. I need to figure it out: what will they steal, and what will they leave alone. And if it gets stolen, I won't have that thing (until there's more of a guardian around at El Jocotel, then we'll have whatever we like and the problem itself should disappear).
This morning, I met with Santiago and the new stonemason, Bartolo. Bartolo is taking over for Gaspar who accepted other work during a two-week, unpaid vacation I mandated and he is sticking with that for now. Bartolo is a hard worker and does beautiful stone work. He's stout, looking almost like a stone wall himself. As Santiago said, "Bartolo has more intelligence [than Gaspar]." Gaspar did the top 26 meters of the wall and Bartolowill do the lower 26 meters. For this perimeter wall, parts of Gaspar's section will double as walls for a small house, bodega, shower, bathroom and restaurant area. Bartolo's section wraps the coffee farm, kitchen/bakery and bodega two. It is a big, strong wall and it has been quite a project. The process gives me a much greater appreciation for construction ventures of any scale. Even though the scale of this project is actually quite small, to me it feels like the Great Wall of China, My intention is the enclosed feeling; protected, secluded, behind closed doors, Antigua-style. Shade gardens with huge foliage and delicious coffee.
When I felt my questions were answered enough to prepare me for my meeting with Charlie, Santiago and I sat down to talk about other things. Since my cabin got rented out for the season, beginning in February, it seemed like a good time to finally consider in earnest who would become the main caretaker for El Jocotel. I was considering Felix. I've known Felix for an entire year myself. He's a neighbor (both pro and con), he's worked with Santiago for years, he's old enough to have a 20-year old kid, he's a hard worker and among his many hats is that of an excellent coffee farmer. Also, Felix does not have the gift of gab, at least not for the Spanish language.
When I mentioned Felix seeking Santiago's thoughts, it jogged something in his memory. Santiago's been busy wrapping up details at the Bambu while the owner is in town and I've been gangster gardening, which in this case means I take unauthorized (stolen) cuttings or root divisions from other people's gardens and get then started in my own. I guess I steal, too, though very often I get permission.
"I forgot to tell you", says him, "your cat is with Felix's family." (no relationship to the Forest Park food establishment). "Have you had any girls over? Local girls from here?"
"No." I don't have local girls over. I wish that kind of thing were less complicated and more acceptable, but no. I had one local friend over, but she visited from San Pedro.
"Well, Gloria...", he began, naming the sister. Gloria is a pretty teenager with a slightly pudgy face. She's charasmatic and friendly and we say hello to each other on the path or the street. Barring the fact that she's the accused cat thief, you would want Gloria as a member of the Tzununa' Girls Rugby Team, if that existed. They're physically trained to punish some other squad and if you could get the girls to understand the rules, that team would go places. The best bet would be a patient Spanish-speaking rugby player or referee unless a Kaqchikel rugby person exists somewhere.
"Here's what you'll say when you see Gloria. Tell you're sad because your cat is gone."
I descended upon the internet shop and found Juana kibbutzing with the attendant, Maria, Juana is Gloria's sister. I told her I was sad and she asked why.
"Because my cat is missing. Have you seen a cat around the neighborhood?"
I would describe her reaction as maybe too shocked and benificent and concerned. She declined any knowledge of any cat. The informant about the cat is I***, a ten-year girl with a propensity for wood-splitting, from a good family. I have no reason to disbelieve I***. If what I*** and others say is true, if the cat is there, then logically Juana has to be lying to me.
I checked my one email which was so short I could read the entire thing in the inbox preview. Either nothing new had come in, or I'd been hacked and all my new emails were read and deleted and I'll never know of their existence. I checked Face, blowing a few minutes, then picked up to go.
"So you haven't seen a cat..." I try again with Juana. Now she seems more interested in the computer screen. "Small, kind of grey, some black, some white."
I tried to channel Larry David as I stared into Juana's black eyes and thought back to J*'s comment. It's been eight days since the cat vanished like a fart in the wind. Do they have her? Was she torn limb from limb by he mountain gato or a mythical creature? Can I go to their house and poke around. I will not negotiate with terrorists (read: buy my cat back) but it's really the principle and what's more, she was forming into a fine car. She was already far more well-liked by myself than the dog.
I am no socioeconomist. I cannot say how a village, this village or any other, came to be what it is or why it may have more theft than other places. Maybe someone could explain it to me, I happy to listen. It's especially confounding because the population in general is so humble and friendly. Thinking about the annoying bullshit that is petty theft is something I've never done, except a little at prep school, and didn't really want to do. I will maintain
There is no real upshot or message to all this except to say that if your day to day life is free of this hassle, then give thanks for that this Christmas, Hannukah and New Year season. Last night, I was treated to amazing turkey dinner at the home of my friends Shad and Colleen. The turkey was a twenty pounder bought by Shad at one day old some months back and raised on his farm with a slew of others. I wish everyone a happy, healthy season and the best for 2015.
I'm often asked if I can receive mail down here and the answer is yes. If you send something, please let me know so I know to go pick it up 'general delivery' at the post office in a near by village.
Max Benjamin
Lista de Correos
Panajachel, Solola, Guatemala
Centroamerica
15 months in Guatemala for me now.
A while back, I met this guy J*, a tall, imposing, vaguely Mormon, gringo builder. He was putting up a hotel his family would manage in Panajachel. He told me openly that a good part of their business would come from visiting religious groups. We got to talking about Mayan workers. I really can't remember what lead him into it, but at point during that chat, he looked right at me and declared, "These people are the devil." At that point, with my own crew newly on the payroll, questioning to myself how religious he really was, his comment did not resonate with me. It also shocked me.
Like coffee and mony other things, integrating into a foreign village and neighborhood drastically different from my own carries a burden of knowledge. This burden includes petty(mostly) theft. Things disappear, not only from my place. The locals survive in this difficult location because they've figured it out over many years. For every challenge, they figure it out and magically it often seems like they don't get wet. I need to figure it out: what will they steal, and what will they leave alone. And if it gets stolen, I won't have that thing (until there's more of a guardian around at El Jocotel, then we'll have whatever we like and the problem itself should disappear).
This morning, I met with Santiago and the new stonemason, Bartolo. Bartolo is taking over for Gaspar who accepted other work during a two-week, unpaid vacation I mandated and he is sticking with that for now. Bartolo is a hard worker and does beautiful stone work. He's stout, looking almost like a stone wall himself. As Santiago said, "Bartolo has more intelligence [than Gaspar]." Gaspar did the top 26 meters of the wall and Bartolowill do the lower 26 meters. For this perimeter wall, parts of Gaspar's section will double as walls for a small house, bodega, shower, bathroom and restaurant area. Bartolo's section wraps the coffee farm, kitchen/bakery and bodega two. It is a big, strong wall and it has been quite a project. The process gives me a much greater appreciation for construction ventures of any scale. Even though the scale of this project is actually quite small, to me it feels like the Great Wall of China, My intention is the enclosed feeling; protected, secluded, behind closed doors, Antigua-style. Shade gardens with huge foliage and delicious coffee.
When I felt my questions were answered enough to prepare me for my meeting with Charlie, Santiago and I sat down to talk about other things. Since my cabin got rented out for the season, beginning in February, it seemed like a good time to finally consider in earnest who would become the main caretaker for El Jocotel. I was considering Felix. I've known Felix for an entire year myself. He's a neighbor (both pro and con), he's worked with Santiago for years, he's old enough to have a 20-year old kid, he's a hard worker and among his many hats is that of an excellent coffee farmer. Also, Felix does not have the gift of gab, at least not for the Spanish language.
When I mentioned Felix seeking Santiago's thoughts, it jogged something in his memory. Santiago's been busy wrapping up details at the Bambu while the owner is in town and I've been gangster gardening, which in this case means I take unauthorized (stolen) cuttings or root divisions from other people's gardens and get then started in my own. I guess I steal, too, though very often I get permission.
"I forgot to tell you", says him, "your cat is with Felix's family." (no relationship to the Forest Park food establishment). "Have you had any girls over? Local girls from here?"
"No." I don't have local girls over. I wish that kind of thing were less complicated and more acceptable, but no. I had one local friend over, but she visited from San Pedro.
"Well, Gloria...", he began, naming the sister. Gloria is a pretty teenager with a slightly pudgy face. She's charasmatic and friendly and we say hello to each other on the path or the street. Barring the fact that she's the accused cat thief, you would want Gloria as a member of the Tzununa' Girls Rugby Team, if that existed. They're physically trained to punish some other squad and if you could get the girls to understand the rules, that team would go places. The best bet would be a patient Spanish-speaking rugby player or referee unless a Kaqchikel rugby person exists somewhere.
"Here's what you'll say when you see Gloria. Tell you're sad because your cat is gone."
I descended upon the internet shop and found Juana kibbutzing with the attendant, Maria, Juana is Gloria's sister. I told her I was sad and she asked why.
"Because my cat is missing. Have you seen a cat around the neighborhood?"
I would describe her reaction as maybe too shocked and benificent and concerned. She declined any knowledge of any cat. The informant about the cat is I***, a ten-year girl with a propensity for wood-splitting, from a good family. I have no reason to disbelieve I***. If what I*** and others say is true, if the cat is there, then logically Juana has to be lying to me.
I checked my one email which was so short I could read the entire thing in the inbox preview. Either nothing new had come in, or I'd been hacked and all my new emails were read and deleted and I'll never know of their existence. I checked Face, blowing a few minutes, then picked up to go.
"So you haven't seen a cat..." I try again with Juana. Now she seems more interested in the computer screen. "Small, kind of grey, some black, some white."
I tried to channel Larry David as I stared into Juana's black eyes and thought back to J*'s comment. It's been eight days since the cat vanished like a fart in the wind. Do they have her? Was she torn limb from limb by he mountain gato or a mythical creature? Can I go to their house and poke around. I will not negotiate with terrorists (read: buy my cat back) but it's really the principle and what's more, she was forming into a fine car. She was already far more well-liked by myself than the dog.
I am no socioeconomist. I cannot say how a village, this village or any other, came to be what it is or why it may have more theft than other places. Maybe someone could explain it to me, I happy to listen. It's especially confounding because the population in general is so humble and friendly. Thinking about the annoying bullshit that is petty theft is something I've never done, except a little at prep school, and didn't really want to do. I will maintain
There is no real upshot or message to all this except to say that if your day to day life is free of this hassle, then give thanks for that this Christmas, Hannukah and New Year season. Last night, I was treated to amazing turkey dinner at the home of my friends Shad and Colleen. The turkey was a twenty pounder bought by Shad at one day old some months back and raised on his farm with a slew of others. I wish everyone a happy, healthy season and the best for 2015.
I'm often asked if I can receive mail down here and the answer is yes. If you send something, please let me know so I know to go pick it up 'general delivery' at the post office in a near by village.
Max Benjamin
Lista de Correos
Panajachel, Solola, Guatemala
Centroamerica
Monday, December 22, 2014
Dear Max
Hi Max,
A replacement order has been entered and a new headlamp will ship shortly. There is no need to send anything in. Please keep your old one for spare parts.
Cheers,
Logan
RA 156575
Black Diamond Service Center
2084 East 3900 South
Salt Lake City, UT 84124
Note from the Editor
I first was asked to fill out Black Diamond's Warranty Issue thing online. This took only a couple minutes. I have received shipping notification for the new headlamp. Black Diamond made good, thanks Black Diamond.
Note from the Editor
I first was asked to fill out Black Diamond's Warranty Issue thing online. This took only a couple minutes. I have received shipping notification for the new headlamp. Black Diamond made good, thanks Black Diamond.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
| Live Update | El Jocotel Bodega Booked for the Season
Sorry folks, availability is gone for the cabin at El Jocotel for tourist season 2015. That place has been rented out by a [age withheld] year-old [nationality withheld][gender withheld] named [name withheld].
There will be affordable housing at El Jocotel in a brand new Shelter Box relief tent complete with full bedding. A blog post to follow will detail that arrangment.
Talk to me about availability for the 2016 season.
El Jocotel is also looking for a
There will be affordable housing at El Jocotel in a brand new Shelter Box relief tent complete with full bedding. A blog post to follow will detail that arrangment.
 |
| Dry wall by Gaspar, one of Tzununas rock masters and a young father of five. |
El Jocotel is also looking for a
- Permaculturalist - for rainy season 2015. June - November 2015. This person will live in the cabin and improve the grounds including building small terraces and planting garden bombs around money trees, swale, pond and other water control work, taking care of and possibly installing new animal systems and planting Zone 5 woods on the inclined area beneath.
- Coffee Intern 2015 - November - December 2015 or extending into 2016. This person will learn the coffee process from tree and orchard care to a dried, storable and roastable bean. This may spill over into coffee shop duties as well. The process can be learned very quickly and then its simply work. I consider processing the coffee therapeutic and very controllable and as always, the work is in an incredible place.
 |
| Cherry Red |
If youre interested, ping me and if you know someone who might be, ping them. Thanks very much to the dedicated readers of El Jocotel Blog.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Dear Black Diamond,
I had one of your headlamps for a
while. In fact, I still have it. After about five years, a little plastic
piece broke off, the small tip of the piece that determines the angle of the
light by holding on between one of the grooves.
I moved to Guatemala about 15 months ago
and back in May I returned to the states for my sister's wedding and a visit
with my people. I took the opportunity
while back home to get a new headlamp and I decided to be loyal to Black
Diamond because I was happy with the first lamp. I like the modes, the dimmer,
the waterproof and I considered that failure after five years
understandable. Also, the light still
works and is fine for reading in bed.
 |
| Beans growing behind me. Piloy(see below) and pigeon pea (gandula). |
I ordered the new version of the same
headlamp. I ordered from Campmor online,
order #752177, confirmation email attached to this letter. It seemed to have some updates in the shell
design and brighter lamps. Right off the
bat, it felt cheaper. The light did not
last a month. The circuitry went wonky
and unreliable. It let me down in an
early morning pig kill and it let me down soon after during an evening session
of beekeeping where we tried to move into a box the ~5000 bees that formed a
hive in my outhouse. After the period of
unreliability, the light stopped emitting light altogether, even with fresh
batteries.
I am fairly angry about the headlamp
breaking. It was one important item that
I took the chance to get while home.
Where I live here, in Tzununa, Solola, Guatemala on Lake Atitlan, I have
a small cabin and no electricity. It's a
lot like camping, but with a comfortable bed.
I live on a mountainside and it's often too breezy for candles. I rely on my headlamp and I wanted a fully
functional one with my old one as a backup.
It did not last one month. I
really hope my copy was a fluke, and that Black Diamond hasn't taken to selling
the people flimsy junk. Please don’t make
me fill out any paperwork, or worse, send the headlamp from Guatemala. I do not deserve to do that. Please make this right, Black Diamond and
send me a new headlamp.
I'm writing because a friend of mine will
be coming to visit January 5th.
If you would like to make this right and replace the lamp, please a send
it to my parents, who will put it with the other items slated to be brought
down.
Peter Benjamin
°address withheld°
I keep a blog for some friends back home
about things that happen here in Guatemala and photos of plants, scenery and
animals. I invite you to have a look. I'll be posting this letter for my readers,
and I'll let them know whether or not the new lamp showed up.
Jocotel.blogspot.com
Yours,
Max Benjamin
 |
| Piloy, or as theyre known in Tzununa, Jaibalito and Santa Cruz, phloy. When fresh, like the fatter ones in this photo, they cook in a half hour. Once dried, they boil for three weeks. |
Friday, December 12, 2014
Rest in Peace Tom Magliozzi
My mother emailed the day after Tom Magliozzi died to let me know. At the time, for whatever reason, it did not register.
Yesterday morning, I began the Fresh Air from November 4th, 2014 and, sitting in my outhouse, Terry Gross informed me the Tom Magliozzi died yesterday. For me, this was extremely heavy news.
Tom, along with his brother Ray, are the hosts of NPR´s Cartalk. Cartalk has been a Saturday morning thing for as long as I can remember. To this day, or at least up until the final day of being a car owner, I would always think of Cartalk if driving anywhere on a Saturday morning.
Tom was the philosophical brother. He was the one who thought abstractly believing anything was possible. His brother Ray ´´represented reality´´. There was clearly more to Cartalk than just automotive diagnostics and jokes about their wives. Did you know both brothers went to MIT? Hats off to Terry Gross and producer Doug Berman for putting into words how it worked, what made it so special, and drawing distinctions between Tom and Ray, somethings a lot of listeners may not have been able to do on their own.
So rest in peace, Tom Magliozzi, a radio hero who will be greatly missed. .
Yesterday morning, I began the Fresh Air from November 4th, 2014 and, sitting in my outhouse, Terry Gross informed me the Tom Magliozzi died yesterday. For me, this was extremely heavy news.
Tom, along with his brother Ray, are the hosts of NPR´s Cartalk. Cartalk has been a Saturday morning thing for as long as I can remember. To this day, or at least up until the final day of being a car owner, I would always think of Cartalk if driving anywhere on a Saturday morning.
Tom was the philosophical brother. He was the one who thought abstractly believing anything was possible. His brother Ray ´´represented reality´´. There was clearly more to Cartalk than just automotive diagnostics and jokes about their wives. Did you know both brothers went to MIT? Hats off to Terry Gross and producer Doug Berman for putting into words how it worked, what made it so special, and drawing distinctions between Tom and Ray, somethings a lot of listeners may not have been able to do on their own.
So rest in peace, Tom Magliozzi, a radio hero who will be greatly missed. .
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Meet the Scorpion
Saturday, November 29, 2014
KITTEN!!!! Meet the Kitten. Ten Kitten Photos - The Full Installment [Kittens]
 |
| Coffee Cat |
 |
| Day 1 - Six feet high into a coffee tree |
 |
| "Look, this is how tiny I am. I am demonstrating how I will be crushed if you step on me. You would think I wouldn't make myself perpetually susceptible to being trampled underfoot, but actually I will." |
 |
| Here's how the dog feels about the new cat. Actually they sleep together and play as well. |
Monday, November 24, 2014
Jocotelcast Episode 2
Audio Updates
I didn't circle around on every point, but I did it again one take.
Hope you like it. Any questions, send them in and I'll try to address if it seems interesting for the masses, or at least the few listeners.
Jocotelcast 002
Same deal, Google Drive, it seemed to work last time.
I didn't circle around on every point, but I did it again one take.
Hope you like it. Any questions, send them in and I'll try to address if it seems interesting for the masses, or at least the few listeners.
Jocotelcast 002
Same deal, Google Drive, it seemed to work last time.
Friday, November 21, 2014
El Jocotel - Open for Business
If you missed it on Facebook....
Listed up on AirBnB. Book now as availability for 2015 nice season is going fast.
El Jocotel Mountain cabin at AirBNB
If you're interested in the cabin, email me and lets make a deal and avoid paying fees to the internet man.
Listed up on AirBnB. Book now as availability for 2015 nice season is going fast.
El Jocotel Mountain cabin at AirBNB
If you're interested in the cabin, email me and lets make a deal and avoid paying fees to the internet man.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Shots from Around
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| Shot from the lancha on a nice afternoon. Panajachel to Tzununa. |
 |
| Sacks of avocados from the mountains shipping out at the Jaibalito dock. |
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Meet the Cooch
Cooch (kooch) - Kaqchikel for pig
 |
| Heres the cooch, se llama Cuchumatan |
 |
| Heres where the cooch lives |
 |
| Cooch working in the pond. |
 |
| Blown out to show the pond |
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| The future cooch - a bowl of fresh chicharrones. Sorry folks, but its gonna happen. |
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Coffee Process
Fact: A cup of medium roast and cup of dark roast have the same amount of caffiene.
 |
| Nice ripe coffe. See some leaf rust. |
Saturday, October 25, 2014
What is Growing
 |
| Easy-sticking succulent ground cover with a pretty little flower. |
 |
| Bouganvillea starting up. This will climb up into the fence. It has spikes and a brightly colored brack(?) around a small white flower. Also some nice plastic fertilizer in there. |
Friday, October 10, 2014
Jocotelcast 001
Apologies to anyone who has been looking for an update lately.
This time around, I'm making available a recording I made that will bring any listener up to speed with my goings on here in Guatemala. I set forth with a couple topics listed in my mind and no notes and came away with a 37-minute unedited monologue. It's ambitious, but I'm happy with it and you might like it. If not, I apologize but I can do nothing else for you at this time, unless you visit.
I do not have fancy hosting but the talk is available from my google drive. Click the link here to go to the shared file. It may or may not let you listen straight away, but you can download the file with a button at the top of the page and listen where and when you please.
Jocotelcast 001
This goes out to my cousin Jeff, who encouraged it, the people who've been listening lately to other things, the people who have sent recorded messages back to me and most of all, the people are coming down to see me. Enjoy.
 |
| Volcanic Morning: Volcan Fuego blowing smoke |
Thursday, July 24, 2014
All Well at El Jocotel plus KITTENS!!!
 |
| Heres the lake part of the view from my front porch. |
 |
| Grey Water System. Tube feeds from the kitchen sink. There are seven plant species in and around the pond. Enormous taro leaves should dominate and cover everything eventually. |
 |
| I asked Negra what she thought of someone climbing in, breaking the fence (I fixed it already) and stealing a big stump for firewood. |
 |
| By the time you read this, I got a haircut. This is the semi-rare and beautiful Flor del Izote from my very own tree which is a fencepost as well. Maria pointed it out to me; Im embarrassed for not noticing. She said you have to cut it down because if you dont, one of the neighbors will. The flower petals are edible and I ate them all sauteed in a bit of oil with tomato and one egg. They reminded me of brussell sprouts. I hope theres enough smile in this to satisfy my mother. |
 |
| The same flower on my dining table, showing the kitchen in the background. |
 |
| Kittens, as promised. I really need the pageviews. Theyre not mine, but I may be adopting the mother soon. She looks just like the white one. |
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Km148 to Puerto Escondido
After crossing to the westbound sde of the Pan-American highway, I advanced on foot to urinate in private at the roads side. Only with an empty bladder could I smoke half a joint and before boarding a bus toward Xela. Once done, I strolled back to the little plaza where the other Xela-bound folks waited. I wondered both how high I would be and how much I would be aired out before a passing bus stopped to pick up the group.
I boarded last with my backpack still atteched to me. Stepping into the full bus, a quick count let me estimate about 6.3 people per row. Beyond six adults, one cant really be expected or ordered to sit down, so I stood, with my backpack still attached to mem wishing I had unloaded it with the ayudante to be strapped on top. I stood there, a lone gringo in the aisle among a chicken bus loaded tot he gills with Guatemaltecos. The backpack situaton couldve been easily solved , but Ill admit that a high brain fart precluded me from being the one to solve it. All I needed to do was shift a couple bags in the overhead racks and insert mine sidewys with the top sticking out a bit. Solved.
Next came the process that seems as impossible as it is uncomfortable. This is the one where the ayudante has to pass by me tot he front of the bus. There are already six men sitting in the row and me standing in the aisle. I cant think of any other situation where such a hetero man on man ass-crotch rub occurs, but I take solace knowing he is so used to it that he wont think twice and I know itll be over quickly. A quick firm rub-squeeze, and he is past.
Someone exits the bus and Im upgraded to the third seat with two fully grown men between the window and myself. On a good curve, Ive got three quarters of one cheek on the seat. An unadvantageous curve leaves my ass suspended above the aisle. This becomes a test of core strength and indirect forces work certain leg muscles in ways they are not used to. This test is set to last until my personal seating arrangement can be improved, an unknown.
The bus is going faster and taking the curves harder than any other Ive experienced on this stretch. Its a little more interactive for the rider and a little harder on the gas tank, but we are barreling toward Xela just that much faster. I examine the driver and can assert a hypothesis of which Im very confident that his above average heft allows him to feel less relative centripetal force around these bends. He has more Normal Force than the rest of us; he is less likely to slide out of his seat. I imagine he has spent at least one year, if not several more, creating a form-fitting ass and back groove, an advantage us riders do not have.
Now that Im satisfied with my Physics 101 assessment of the bus, the driver and the passengers with free-body diagrams drawn clearly in my head (Ive also noted the twin styling of the driver and his ayudante including a white tee and short, curly gelled hair), the gassing begins. With far less cientific proof and out on a limb, I blame the man immediately to my right. Ive spent just shy of 30 years studying, and enjoying, the smell of my own farts but I have never derived pleasure from the stench of another. Drawing again from all that research stored away neatly in a very important area of my brain, I diagnose the cause of this particularly dense and awful odor to be a beef dish of an integrity some notches below top, probably ingested by my neighbor at last evenings supper. The farts are coming about every four minutes and each time one does, I can hold my breath only until I am forced to draw in one horrible breath before the chaotic, Brownian (no pun intended) motion of air disspates the offending molecules and returns the local atmosphere to tolerable. I hate the farts, but I do not hate the man. I would let loose, too, even at 6.3 people per row.
At this point, my thoughts turn within for a look at my own mood. Let me count the ways this situation could cause one discomfort or even induce a phobic reaction:
Despite the list, Im in a great mood. The marijuana tunes my senses into everything (helping with the meat of this paper) and causes me to laugh it all off. Im traveling again. Ive built a comfortable and simple home in an amazing place, one to which Ill be overjoyed to return, and left it in the hands of trusted friend. Ill move through some new places for a couple weeks and arrive at my sisters wedding, and event that brings about the largest gathering of family and friends that we have ever known, to take place in Northern California at a perfect time of year. In life, I am in a great position, and in no way is it passing by unappreciated, but just the opposite. Im blessed and and I am thankful, all the time.
I just finished my second cup of coffee as the sun begins to set behind the 18-foot tubes crashing in from the Pacific at Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca, Mexico. Ill see everyone soon.
I boarded last with my backpack still atteched to me. Stepping into the full bus, a quick count let me estimate about 6.3 people per row. Beyond six adults, one cant really be expected or ordered to sit down, so I stood, with my backpack still attached to mem wishing I had unloaded it with the ayudante to be strapped on top. I stood there, a lone gringo in the aisle among a chicken bus loaded tot he gills with Guatemaltecos. The backpack situaton couldve been easily solved , but Ill admit that a high brain fart precluded me from being the one to solve it. All I needed to do was shift a couple bags in the overhead racks and insert mine sidewys with the top sticking out a bit. Solved.
Next came the process that seems as impossible as it is uncomfortable. This is the one where the ayudante has to pass by me tot he front of the bus. There are already six men sitting in the row and me standing in the aisle. I cant think of any other situation where such a hetero man on man ass-crotch rub occurs, but I take solace knowing he is so used to it that he wont think twice and I know itll be over quickly. A quick firm rub-squeeze, and he is past.
Someone exits the bus and Im upgraded to the third seat with two fully grown men between the window and myself. On a good curve, Ive got three quarters of one cheek on the seat. An unadvantageous curve leaves my ass suspended above the aisle. This becomes a test of core strength and indirect forces work certain leg muscles in ways they are not used to. This test is set to last until my personal seating arrangement can be improved, an unknown.
The bus is going faster and taking the curves harder than any other Ive experienced on this stretch. Its a little more interactive for the rider and a little harder on the gas tank, but we are barreling toward Xela just that much faster. I examine the driver and can assert a hypothesis of which Im very confident that his above average heft allows him to feel less relative centripetal force around these bends. He has more Normal Force than the rest of us; he is less likely to slide out of his seat. I imagine he has spent at least one year, if not several more, creating a form-fitting ass and back groove, an advantage us riders do not have.
Now that Im satisfied with my Physics 101 assessment of the bus, the driver and the passengers with free-body diagrams drawn clearly in my head (Ive also noted the twin styling of the driver and his ayudante including a white tee and short, curly gelled hair), the gassing begins. With far less cientific proof and out on a limb, I blame the man immediately to my right. Ive spent just shy of 30 years studying, and enjoying, the smell of my own farts but I have never derived pleasure from the stench of another. Drawing again from all that research stored away neatly in a very important area of my brain, I diagnose the cause of this particularly dense and awful odor to be a beef dish of an integrity some notches below top, probably ingested by my neighbor at last evenings supper. The farts are coming about every four minutes and each time one does, I can hold my breath only until I am forced to draw in one horrible breath before the chaotic, Brownian (no pun intended) motion of air disspates the offending molecules and returns the local atmosphere to tolerable. I hate the farts, but I do not hate the man. I would let loose, too, even at 6.3 people per row.
At this point, my thoughts turn within for a look at my own mood. Let me count the ways this situation could cause one discomfort or even induce a phobic reaction:
- being a lone stranger in a foreign land
- overcrowding
- highly aggressive driving
- noxious air quality
- physical discomfort
- loud music
Despite the list, Im in a great mood. The marijuana tunes my senses into everything (helping with the meat of this paper) and causes me to laugh it all off. Im traveling again. Ive built a comfortable and simple home in an amazing place, one to which Ill be overjoyed to return, and left it in the hands of trusted friend. Ill move through some new places for a couple weeks and arrive at my sisters wedding, and event that brings about the largest gathering of family and friends that we have ever known, to take place in Northern California at a perfect time of year. In life, I am in a great position, and in no way is it passing by unappreciated, but just the opposite. Im blessed and and I am thankful, all the time.
I just finished my second cup of coffee as the sun begins to set behind the 18-foot tubes crashing in from the Pacific at Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca, Mexico. Ill see everyone soon.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Maximo Supertramp [Live Update]
I took off from the lake leaving a friend in charge of the house and dog. Theres only one dog now. Sanson has not returned though hes rumoured to be with some isolated neighbors nearby. I felt bad because he was cared for by the couple at the Moon Lodge before I took him. Chris had some Muscle Milk or a similar product but decided to stop ingesting it himself so he fed it to the mother of the pups as they nursed. Life goes on and theres plenty of other chuchos and animals to fill the void.
First stop was Tilapita, a coastal sandbar island village very near the mexican border. I took the scenic route bringing me to the island just after nightfall. I arrived with two lanchas, which cruise thru the canals behind the island. Lancha men here are friendlier than at the lake and the boats are more chill too because I think those backwaters remain pretty calm. The island is like a manhattan shape turned sideways, about 2 ave blocks top to bottom and about 12 streets wide. The streets and aves or whatever you would call them here are all sand. I spent the evening with the hotel{s only other guests, three Norwegian girls and didnt realize until the morning that we could see the crashing waves in the ocean from the hotel.
I spent plenty of time in the ocean and in the sun the next day. Waves were sizable but breaking all over the place. The big ones were tough to reach but I caught a couple good ones with my bopdy as a board.
After two nights, I set off early yesterday morning for Mexico. I finished my pot and hopped on the lancha alone. The pilot offered me a tour of of the mangle (mangrove) and I accepted. I was up early, and the half hour tour seemed a good idea, and it was. Most of what we launched thru was mangle colorado if youd like to look it up, and it was cool. Perusing Tilapita, a sandbar lush with vegetation and mango harvest among others was a major teachable moment for me about how certain plants can thrive in sand. The mangroves are another example of plants being interesting, adaptable and really strange. These mangle colorados produce a dart shaped seed 10 inches long which fall from the tree and stick in the mud. A new tree grows.
At one point, the tourguide Adolfo, pulled up to a small platform on which you could enter a bit into the forest. He told me here, I could listen to the natural sound. Once on the platform, he repeated, bellowing, that here I could hear the sound of the naturaleza. Sure, Adolfo, Ill be able to hear it if you could just SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A SECOND: It was a fairly deafening cacophony of some kind of beetle or cricket or something. A few birds were around. So were some plastic bottle floating in the water.
My Spanish was partially useless near the coast and even worse in Mexico. I made it Tapachula and tried to draw some money from a couple ATMs. They all told me I couldnt connect with my bank. I didnt have much. I went on to Escuintla. At this point, and I hope this will change, but Im plenty happier in Guatemala than Mexico. There is some good gringo loathing going on lately.
ATMs told me the same in Escuintla. I was not going to increase my cash flow this day. I had like 60 pesos, $8US, 250 Quetzales I wished I had changed. I remembered theres been a US twenty in my backpack for the last 8 months or more. A tuk tuk driver approached me with some English. He brought me around to the ATMs and when I asked him what else there was to do in Escuintla he told me Well, that depends on what the fuck you want to do. You can go to the fuckin river or walk to the fuckin waterfall or find a fuckin prostitute. He brought me to guy who give me ten pesos to my dollar. The rate is just under thirteen. Not too bad a hit and now I can pay for the room for the night. I needed to save my money to get to Tonala the next day, so I decided to skip dinner. It was so hot that I had to get a beer, and some water.
100 pesos for the room. Shitty room, shitty night. The fan works, but it has no front. No problem, my fan didnt have a front cover in Northampton either. I forgot to mention its very very hot here. The shared bathroom is a toilet behind a curtain. Theres no toilet paper, theres no lid on the toilet, no seat. Theres no shower but you can bucket pila water over yourself and this I did to battle the extreme heat.
The bed was ridden with all kinds of bugs that wanted to bite me throughout the night. There was a long, loud and close thunderstorm in the night and at one point I thought the the thunder would break the tejas that made up the roof above and my head would be covered in rubble. That didnt happen but eventually I felt the vibration through the rock pillow of water droplets hitting the pillow. I was very calm throughout all this and at one point expressed my thanks that at least there wasnt any loud music. At 3am I exited the room dissapointed to find darkness persisting. I maximized my situation but putting on my yoga pants and a long sleeve tee and with the fan on high, this was comfortable and the bugs were mostly fought off. My feet remained exposed and I solved this by placing around them the pillowcase from the extra pillow. I slept some hours and left quickly in the morning.
Transport in Mexico is a bit more expensive than it should be and my peso count was low. I decided to give hitchhiking a try to save a bit. Good old fashioned hitchhiking in Mexico. I picked up my first ride pretty quickly. I sat in the middle seat up front in a box truck between a teen and the guy driving who had had a couple beers quickly in the morning. When they asked me where I was from I told them Canada. When we were stopped at a checkpoint, the military guy asked me where I was from. Hmmmm, I thought. Quick calculation and I told him I was from Canada. If he asks for my passport, which he did, Im using the German one, so the double lie can go over undetected.
I was walking along the side of the highway waiting for another ride when I started to get hungry, I still hadnt eaten. Luckily, God had left a couple ripe mangoes by the side of the road. Thats a Louis CK reference but really they had a just fallen off a big mango tree. I made it to Tonala with two free rides and two paid stretches and a few pesos left over. When I found an ATM, it meted me a bunch of pesos with no trouble and I was back. I took a nice hotel room for 2.8 times the previous nights price. King size bed, private bathroom with shower, toilet, toilet seat, paper, soap and a telvision with about 87 channels and lights to read by. Also air conditioning so tonight I should be happy.
Without bothering to shower, I hit the streets for food. Opened with a mango smoothie, big size. 20 pesos. Then three tacos, one beef, one chicken, one tripe. The tripe wasnt too gross, Just less flavor than the others I thought. Then the real meal upstairs of chicken in mole with rice and a Sol. Back to the hotel and now this...
Im in Davis, CA May 20 to 28th. Im in WMass May 29 to June 11.
First stop was Tilapita, a coastal sandbar island village very near the mexican border. I took the scenic route bringing me to the island just after nightfall. I arrived with two lanchas, which cruise thru the canals behind the island. Lancha men here are friendlier than at the lake and the boats are more chill too because I think those backwaters remain pretty calm. The island is like a manhattan shape turned sideways, about 2 ave blocks top to bottom and about 12 streets wide. The streets and aves or whatever you would call them here are all sand. I spent the evening with the hotel{s only other guests, three Norwegian girls and didnt realize until the morning that we could see the crashing waves in the ocean from the hotel.
I spent plenty of time in the ocean and in the sun the next day. Waves were sizable but breaking all over the place. The big ones were tough to reach but I caught a couple good ones with my bopdy as a board.
After two nights, I set off early yesterday morning for Mexico. I finished my pot and hopped on the lancha alone. The pilot offered me a tour of of the mangle (mangrove) and I accepted. I was up early, and the half hour tour seemed a good idea, and it was. Most of what we launched thru was mangle colorado if youd like to look it up, and it was cool. Perusing Tilapita, a sandbar lush with vegetation and mango harvest among others was a major teachable moment for me about how certain plants can thrive in sand. The mangroves are another example of plants being interesting, adaptable and really strange. These mangle colorados produce a dart shaped seed 10 inches long which fall from the tree and stick in the mud. A new tree grows.
At one point, the tourguide Adolfo, pulled up to a small platform on which you could enter a bit into the forest. He told me here, I could listen to the natural sound. Once on the platform, he repeated, bellowing, that here I could hear the sound of the naturaleza. Sure, Adolfo, Ill be able to hear it if you could just SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A SECOND: It was a fairly deafening cacophony of some kind of beetle or cricket or something. A few birds were around. So were some plastic bottle floating in the water.
My Spanish was partially useless near the coast and even worse in Mexico. I made it Tapachula and tried to draw some money from a couple ATMs. They all told me I couldnt connect with my bank. I didnt have much. I went on to Escuintla. At this point, and I hope this will change, but Im plenty happier in Guatemala than Mexico. There is some good gringo loathing going on lately.
ATMs told me the same in Escuintla. I was not going to increase my cash flow this day. I had like 60 pesos, $8US, 250 Quetzales I wished I had changed. I remembered theres been a US twenty in my backpack for the last 8 months or more. A tuk tuk driver approached me with some English. He brought me around to the ATMs and when I asked him what else there was to do in Escuintla he told me Well, that depends on what the fuck you want to do. You can go to the fuckin river or walk to the fuckin waterfall or find a fuckin prostitute. He brought me to guy who give me ten pesos to my dollar. The rate is just under thirteen. Not too bad a hit and now I can pay for the room for the night. I needed to save my money to get to Tonala the next day, so I decided to skip dinner. It was so hot that I had to get a beer, and some water.
100 pesos for the room. Shitty room, shitty night. The fan works, but it has no front. No problem, my fan didnt have a front cover in Northampton either. I forgot to mention its very very hot here. The shared bathroom is a toilet behind a curtain. Theres no toilet paper, theres no lid on the toilet, no seat. Theres no shower but you can bucket pila water over yourself and this I did to battle the extreme heat.
The bed was ridden with all kinds of bugs that wanted to bite me throughout the night. There was a long, loud and close thunderstorm in the night and at one point I thought the the thunder would break the tejas that made up the roof above and my head would be covered in rubble. That didnt happen but eventually I felt the vibration through the rock pillow of water droplets hitting the pillow. I was very calm throughout all this and at one point expressed my thanks that at least there wasnt any loud music. At 3am I exited the room dissapointed to find darkness persisting. I maximized my situation but putting on my yoga pants and a long sleeve tee and with the fan on high, this was comfortable and the bugs were mostly fought off. My feet remained exposed and I solved this by placing around them the pillowcase from the extra pillow. I slept some hours and left quickly in the morning.
Transport in Mexico is a bit more expensive than it should be and my peso count was low. I decided to give hitchhiking a try to save a bit. Good old fashioned hitchhiking in Mexico. I picked up my first ride pretty quickly. I sat in the middle seat up front in a box truck between a teen and the guy driving who had had a couple beers quickly in the morning. When they asked me where I was from I told them Canada. When we were stopped at a checkpoint, the military guy asked me where I was from. Hmmmm, I thought. Quick calculation and I told him I was from Canada. If he asks for my passport, which he did, Im using the German one, so the double lie can go over undetected.
I was walking along the side of the highway waiting for another ride when I started to get hungry, I still hadnt eaten. Luckily, God had left a couple ripe mangoes by the side of the road. Thats a Louis CK reference but really they had a just fallen off a big mango tree. I made it to Tonala with two free rides and two paid stretches and a few pesos left over. When I found an ATM, it meted me a bunch of pesos with no trouble and I was back. I took a nice hotel room for 2.8 times the previous nights price. King size bed, private bathroom with shower, toilet, toilet seat, paper, soap and a telvision with about 87 channels and lights to read by. Also air conditioning so tonight I should be happy.
Without bothering to shower, I hit the streets for food. Opened with a mango smoothie, big size. 20 pesos. Then three tacos, one beef, one chicken, one tripe. The tripe wasnt too gross, Just less flavor than the others I thought. Then the real meal upstairs of chicken in mole with rice and a Sol. Back to the hotel and now this...
Im in Davis, CA May 20 to 28th. Im in WMass May 29 to June 11.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
I Moved [Live Update]
I've moved up into my house. It's been a stretch leading up. I wouldn't say stressful or frustrating, but a little drawn out.
I'm thrilled to be up there. It's just as perfect and peaceful as always and on my first night I realized, in addition to everything else, it's firefly season as well.
There is a house, or rather, a deluxe lean-to.
The house has:
I'm thrilled to be up there. It's just as perfect and peaceful as always and on my first night I realized, in addition to everything else, it's firefly season as well.
There is a house, or rather, a deluxe lean-to.
The house has:
- One room
- Adjoining outside kitchen
- No windows yet
- A 200-lb door
- no electricity
- a full-size bed with a semi-firm mattress
- No lock yet
- Sanson: male, dominant, coffee-colored. current intelligence: 7/10
- Negra: female, black. current intelligence: 4/10 current kindness & cuteness: 8/10
- a lovely roof of 'tejas romanos'
- a poo hole
- a pee hole
- a spectacular view
- a sink, to follow
- 1.5 libras raisins (pasas)
- 1 libra salted (manillas)
- 5 oz. pepitas (don't know the English)
- 4 oz. cashews (cashew)
- 4 oz. almonds (almendras?)
- 1 oz. sesame seeds (?)
- 4 oz. coconut (coco)
- 0 oz. macadamia (macadamia). no macadamias today.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
We Don't Serve Food Here
A hernia and a hemorrhoid walk into a bar. Bartender says 'Oh great, just what i need.'
Monday, March 31, 2014
Friday, March 14, 2014
Why I Chose This Plot, Part II
Is the title clean? Who am I
dealing with?
There was a hotel owner back in San Marcos who, while quite sheisty himself, taught me a lot about how all this works when I started looking at land in earnest. I'm not afraid to name him. His name is Rigoberto, or as my friend Jenny nicknamed him, Rigobusiness. Rigobusiness owned land, houses, tiendas and would sell dial-up modems if he found a good deal on them. His hotel where I stayed advertised wireless internet. A couple I knew staying there paid for an entire month or more based on the fact that there was internet that would allow them to work and make money. When they showed up, they found the internet worked extremely slowly or not at all a lot of the time. They wanted to leave the hotel and even had everything about the internet in a contract but if they left, Rigobusiness only agreed to give back a fraction of the money he would've owed. Besides utilizing Dale Carnegie tactics, which work better in business deals at the sale stage rather than when trying to recover money due to a breach in contract, it seemed like their only option was to go to court. I say to hell with going to court in Guatemala against a Guatemalteco. This should be avoided at all costs. Fuck Rigobusiness, I'm not dealing with him and hopefully not anyone else like him. That said, his hotel was really well done and quiet and the two of us are still buddies.
My scout is Santiago and the land owner was Don Ilario. Santiago is like an angel who fell into my lap. Most gringoes seem to have their 'guy'. Santiago is 'my guy'. He is the Andres to my Terry, the Nicolas to my Shad. He showed me this land as one he has known for a while is really nice. Other gringoes have looked and shown interest but no one ever got it together and made with the cash. I realized where Santiago lived and he said "I want you to buy this land, I want you to be my neighbor." He'd be just below in the village, about five minutes away, and I'll be welcome for tortillas and meals. How can I trust Santiago, besides the neighbor thing? Santiago is the lead builder on Shad's bamboo hotel. Walter, the leader of the other crew, has more bamboo experience, but Santiago is really in charge. Charlie is the architect on Shad's hotel and he picked Santiago and his group.
Little things happen like once I was standing on the rock viewpoint at my place's edge before the deal quite went through. A kid came up and we got to chatting and I mentioned the land. He said something like, "Oh, you're buying the land of Don Ilario?". Everyone knows it's his land. No second or third person can come out of nowhere and say 'hey, that's actually my land, Ilario can't sell it unless I approve' or something worse. The paper's are good. I went to dinner at Santiago's house New Year's Eve and it was quite good. I was speaking to Santiago's father, another Andres, who seemed happy at the whole deal. A real nice guy, he concluded "Don Ilario's been a friend of mine for 35 years". Ilario might run for mayor at the next election. Why would he want to get into any issues behind this land? Why would Santiago, a successful builder and trusted land scout, want to get into any issues behind this land and jeopardize his reputation and Charlie's confidence, especially over a plot only five minutes from his own? The commision is certainly not enough for that. The deal done, Santiago is still a great help and has expressed his interest in working for me. That'll be discussed down the line. I'll hire him if chooses to drop some of his other obligations and take care of my place, or I'll hire someone else and we'll remain friends and he'll still help me out. Meanwhile, I've been threatened (not really) by Shad that, right now, Santiago's responibility is to have his bamboo hotel finished by this May. After that, Santiago is up for grabs and he does come with Shad's recommendation, which is weighty. Serendipitously, Santiago was born about a month after me. All in all, I went on the fact that this deal had Charlie's stamp on it and Ilario is a longtime, respected member of the Tzununa community. He'll be a neighbor, too, just further down the hill. Because this deal has been so smooth, I may have been a little light on all the manner of horrible headache that can accompany a land deal or the acheievement of building permit, power or water thereafter. Suffice it to say things can be sufficiently bogged down in bullshit and added expense. I guess if there's one thing to take away, it's that a good, trusted land scout will help all these other things fall into place.
Is the price right?
If you do enough looking and asking, you get a feel for the real going rate of land. Then, you add or substact based on assets or drawbacks and their added expenses. I got a really nice price per cuerda. Responsibilty for this lies with Santiago as well.
How's the view?
View is important. If you're here on the lake, you should have one. It's nice and different throughout the day and each day of the year. Tourists love it. There are amazing views, awesome views, cool views, and views. Mine is amazing. When I first wrote this, I wrote awesome but a couple weeks later, ready to post this and having more time up there, I have to change it to truly amazing.
___________
There you have my primer on Atitlan real estate. If anyone is interested in a piece land here, hit me up in private, I'll consult. I'm a land scout too now. I'll plant fruit trees, bamboo and cypress and keep an eye on it until you come down.
There was a hotel owner back in San Marcos who, while quite sheisty himself, taught me a lot about how all this works when I started looking at land in earnest. I'm not afraid to name him. His name is Rigoberto, or as my friend Jenny nicknamed him, Rigobusiness. Rigobusiness owned land, houses, tiendas and would sell dial-up modems if he found a good deal on them. His hotel where I stayed advertised wireless internet. A couple I knew staying there paid for an entire month or more based on the fact that there was internet that would allow them to work and make money. When they showed up, they found the internet worked extremely slowly or not at all a lot of the time. They wanted to leave the hotel and even had everything about the internet in a contract but if they left, Rigobusiness only agreed to give back a fraction of the money he would've owed. Besides utilizing Dale Carnegie tactics, which work better in business deals at the sale stage rather than when trying to recover money due to a breach in contract, it seemed like their only option was to go to court. I say to hell with going to court in Guatemala against a Guatemalteco. This should be avoided at all costs. Fuck Rigobusiness, I'm not dealing with him and hopefully not anyone else like him. That said, his hotel was really well done and quiet and the two of us are still buddies.
My scout is Santiago and the land owner was Don Ilario. Santiago is like an angel who fell into my lap. Most gringoes seem to have their 'guy'. Santiago is 'my guy'. He is the Andres to my Terry, the Nicolas to my Shad. He showed me this land as one he has known for a while is really nice. Other gringoes have looked and shown interest but no one ever got it together and made with the cash. I realized where Santiago lived and he said "I want you to buy this land, I want you to be my neighbor." He'd be just below in the village, about five minutes away, and I'll be welcome for tortillas and meals. How can I trust Santiago, besides the neighbor thing? Santiago is the lead builder on Shad's bamboo hotel. Walter, the leader of the other crew, has more bamboo experience, but Santiago is really in charge. Charlie is the architect on Shad's hotel and he picked Santiago and his group.
Little things happen like once I was standing on the rock viewpoint at my place's edge before the deal quite went through. A kid came up and we got to chatting and I mentioned the land. He said something like, "Oh, you're buying the land of Don Ilario?". Everyone knows it's his land. No second or third person can come out of nowhere and say 'hey, that's actually my land, Ilario can't sell it unless I approve' or something worse. The paper's are good. I went to dinner at Santiago's house New Year's Eve and it was quite good. I was speaking to Santiago's father, another Andres, who seemed happy at the whole deal. A real nice guy, he concluded "Don Ilario's been a friend of mine for 35 years". Ilario might run for mayor at the next election. Why would he want to get into any issues behind this land? Why would Santiago, a successful builder and trusted land scout, want to get into any issues behind this land and jeopardize his reputation and Charlie's confidence, especially over a plot only five minutes from his own? The commision is certainly not enough for that. The deal done, Santiago is still a great help and has expressed his interest in working for me. That'll be discussed down the line. I'll hire him if chooses to drop some of his other obligations and take care of my place, or I'll hire someone else and we'll remain friends and he'll still help me out. Meanwhile, I've been threatened (not really) by Shad that, right now, Santiago's responibility is to have his bamboo hotel finished by this May. After that, Santiago is up for grabs and he does come with Shad's recommendation, which is weighty. Serendipitously, Santiago was born about a month after me. All in all, I went on the fact that this deal had Charlie's stamp on it and Ilario is a longtime, respected member of the Tzununa community. He'll be a neighbor, too, just further down the hill. Because this deal has been so smooth, I may have been a little light on all the manner of horrible headache that can accompany a land deal or the acheievement of building permit, power or water thereafter. Suffice it to say things can be sufficiently bogged down in bullshit and added expense. I guess if there's one thing to take away, it's that a good, trusted land scout will help all these other things fall into place.
Is the price right?
If you do enough looking and asking, you get a feel for the real going rate of land. Then, you add or substact based on assets or drawbacks and their added expenses. I got a really nice price per cuerda. Responsibilty for this lies with Santiago as well.
How's the view?
View is important. If you're here on the lake, you should have one. It's nice and different throughout the day and each day of the year. Tourists love it. There are amazing views, awesome views, cool views, and views. Mine is amazing. When I first wrote this, I wrote awesome but a couple weeks later, ready to post this and having more time up there, I have to change it to truly amazing.
___________
There you have my primer on Atitlan real estate. If anyone is interested in a piece land here, hit me up in private, I'll consult. I'm a land scout too now. I'll plant fruit trees, bamboo and cypress and keep an eye on it until you come down.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Why I Chose This Plot, Part I
I sometimes tell people that the thing I'm most expert in is
photography. That's not to say I'm a grandmaster, but in a
comparison to my knowledge of other topics, I probably know the most
about taking photos. The process of buying land in Guatemala has
been such an education that it may now be my number two. I feel that
because I've done it once, and had to learn everything it took to get
it done fairly easily after finding the right spot, I would be well
to do it a few more times as investment if I didn't want to focus on
improving my first place, which is well big enough. At this point, I
want to stop and touch wood. After finally finding the combination
of the right fixer, piece of land, seller and price, the process has
been eerily smooth, through to the point of having my building permit
in hand and my taxes paid for the year 2014(only six days after the
land deal went through). Water and power remain to be connected;
both should be smooth and easy as well.
I've never actively looked for land in the US or any other place, so I can't compare it. Here, it's quite tiring. It's generally hot and sunny, especially in the morning. I joke that you can get two things done per day here. One in the morning, and one in the afternoon, give or take. If you blow one of those looking at land, you've blown one maybe taking a boat, maybe a tuk-tuk, but probably walking uphill and scrambling around steep, rocky, unkempt squares of the mountain. Unkempt isn't a reason to write off land so you have to give due diligence around through the brush as tall as you to try to quickly imagine where a house might go and the degree of impossibilty of constructing in that location. The person escorting you has strong odds of being sheisty and their company can be a drag or can be tolerable.
Here's how it works commonly, not exclusively. An owner puts it out there in the aether that heshe would sell a certain piece of land if someone was buying. Anyone interested (in quickly becoming a real estate agent) could come by this information easily. You can show the land to all the gringoes you want and if you bring an eventual buyer into the owner, you get paid. For this reason, multiple people may show you the same spot, a great waste of time and kick to the day's enthusiasm. What did Yogi say? You always find something in the last place you look. Most of the properties you're shown are a bust and dealbroken quickly for one reason or another(e.g., no water, too far, too loud, too steep). At that point, you figure out how to most quickly have the scout take you over to the next place and address a new set of measurements and asking price.
In my assessment below, I could see many gringoes disagreeing with me on a couple things. I was willing to sacrifice lake proximity and view for other advantages and securities. After you've chosen a village, here's what you need to ask for about the piece of land:
How big should it be?
Guatemala deals in cuerdas, which is pretty Guatemala because a cuerda can be anything from a bathroom tile to Lake Huron. I'm joking. A saving grace is that, I think, Guatemala uses the smallest version of a cuerda, 25m x 25m. I was looking for three to six cuerdas. Bigger would've been fine, but price was likely to prohibit. I ended up with six cuerdas, about an acre, which I'm thrilled about. The place is plenty large and spread out, and I hope it always feels that way with way less coffee and a few simple structures. It should be plenty of space for casitas, kitchen, chickens, garden and yoga. What's tricky about this aspect of the search is that a lot of gringoes end up buying up and combining several different properties into one, so that option is always there if you have interest and someone to help do the owner research. There is land open around El Jocotel, but that'll have to be later and hotel owners keep telling me 'don't let it get too big'.
What's the slope like?
People build on almost any kind of slope. Examples are close around. They know exactly how to excavate, refill, and build retaining walls and flat surfaces. It's still a lot of work and it leads to a very vertical life. If you succeed in finding flatter land, you've probably sacrificed your perfectly splendid lake view, and this is what I did. My land resembles the top of the cross section of an airfoil. The upper limit is nice and gentle, sloped, but softly not requiring much excavation to flatten out. This will unearth rocks all of which whill be used in building. I'll put the structures nearer the top, where it's flatter with better view. Garden and trees below. Good spot for chickens fenced in where the neighbor's chickens currently peck through.
Is there water?
Locals always tell me 'Water is the most important thing' or 'Water is the fluid of life' so they like water, too. You pretty much gotta have it. You can do four things here. 1. Tap municipal water. This is the best I think, for price and ease. This is what I'll do. The pipe runs very close to the property and, knock wood, it comes through good and cheap. 2. You can tap for your own water, either into the ground or from a river. This is a nice option, but probably more expensive, if you're digging, than the muni. Smaller surface rivers run dry, but good underwater rivers run all the time, keeping trees nearby lush. Those trees help lead you to the water. Not every place has this option. 3. You can pump from the lake (regionally). People do this, but I would not be happy drinking filtered lake water. 4. You can not have water. This seems like it would become a drag fast.
Is there electricity?
Using the electrical grid ended up being the best option for my purposes. Electricity is cheap here, and it would've taken years and years to pay off a simple solar electricity system that surely would need replacement parts or new batteries not to mention sourcing the parts and putting it all together. A group of three power lines runs about 12 meters from the corner of my property. The power is helpful running certain tools so it would be nice to have power for building. This gets confusing. The electric company has a rule that you can't hook up power until you have a house. The loophole is that the neighbor between myself and the power pole can agree to have an electric counter (that I pay for) put in and and I can 'steal' electricity from that until I have a house up. I'm not sure this will actually work because they don't have a house up either. We'll see. I think it'll be easy, we'll see.
Do you have a right of access to your own property?
This means: are you allowed to walk to your own property? On the mountain, getting somewhere can involve either a public path or going through someone's property or both at the same time. Some properties I was shown would've required leaving the public path and crossing private property to get home. This could be fine for years and years with all your visitors perhaps or the landowner could have a problem and then you have a problem. Public path goes from the village right to the corner of my place then through it. I have no issue getting there. We're talking dirt walking paths here. There could be a bit of a grey area here as to what is considered a 'public trail' and what's private but the people seem to know. There is one more thing. If what's considered a 'public trail' runs through your property and you intend to fence it off, you must provide alternate trail access for the people. My property has an obviously public path running through it from the middle of the top to halfway down the side. Our first work project is to rework the path to the property corner. We'll smooth it out really nice and at each side add a rock seat area for people carrying firewood or bags of crops to rest. There is another trail through my place, but I'm told it's not public. It is well smaller but I know some people use it (and throw their trash on it). I'm very sorry, but people will have to detour around a bit. They are welcome to stop and rest at my resting area. I hope to not have a problem here. I wrestled, and still wrestle, with myself about whether or not to have a fence and what type of fence to build. Even though I waver, I've long since decided a fence was best for the place I want and the visitors I'd like. There's a group of well-intentioned people, neighbor's chickens and chuchos who need to have a reason not to wander in. If a real thief wants in, they're gonna come in but a fence is pretty necessary.
How far is it from a town? How far is it from a road?
In terms of getting materials there, you can build a house anywhere if you have some extra money for dragging materials up the paths to those places by hand. In some places, there's water and power, but i's an hour and a half walk from the boat. Much of your material will come in by truck, so the closer a truck can get, the better. My closest access will be at the road right where Shad's hotel is. It should be about a ten-minute walk up. I won't be super happy watching young and older Mayan men struggle with heavy loads for construction at my place, and I certainly won't be too happy while I'm struggling with them (while carrying way less), but I believe in the project and having a house. Charlie said that relative to being next to the road, construction would cost me 10% more. Maybe I can offset that by always helping out with 'cargando' and I'm thrilled with my location so I'm on board. As I mentioned, Gallo Beer may add tuk tuk access to very near El Jocotel, and if they do this while I still have things to construct, it will ease the labor heavily for all time.
Where is it? Who are the neighbors?
Tranquility was a must for me. Some places were dealbroken immediately for being right in the village. Tzununa is a loud town, be it church music, stereo music, corn grinders or chuchos in the night. I will hear some of it, but my place is just on the edge of the village with a bit of a buffer. I do have neighbors at one edge point of the property. These are Kaqchikel Mayan people. There's a guy Andres and his family of wife and four young daughters. Unfortunately, I did look at four of his properties and did not end up buying. I was worried he'd hold a grudge but I ran into him at the San Pablo Day Fair yesterday and he greeted me warmly. I'll be at the top of the village so behind me is just mountain. It's all people's property and mostly farmed and harvested for something or other. There are people around and passing through, but they're quiet, friendly and often carrying something heavy and going straight home.
As far as visitors and guests arriving to the hotel, I think it's cool that people will be forced to go right through the village to get there. Lomas and the Moon Lodge are not part of the village. Shad will be and we will be. We are in the village. What people have to say at the hill climb required, that's up in the air. I like it and I'll be in shape.
Is it geographically safe?
I just mentioned living on the same slope as the local people. Doing so gives me comfort that no rocks bigger than my house will roll down and crush my own while I sleep or that I won't wake up swimming in a soup of mud and rock sludge barreling down to the valley below. This is where a lot of gringoes throw Mayan caution to the wind and build right in a spot they like in a dangerous valley or right next to a rising lake. Sure, your house may be safe for five years or even all of your lifetime, but there were storms that devastated here in both 2005 and 2009 so the occurence of another couldn't come as a surprise. Tzununa's river is known to jump and carry over to unknown places. Because of property, trees, deception, magic, and lack of easy access to detailed topographical information, it's often really hard to understand the contours of the land, especially in dry season, and figure out what the water will do. Remember, these are huge mountains and a lot of water spills out and when it comes it happens fast.
I've never actively looked for land in the US or any other place, so I can't compare it. Here, it's quite tiring. It's generally hot and sunny, especially in the morning. I joke that you can get two things done per day here. One in the morning, and one in the afternoon, give or take. If you blow one of those looking at land, you've blown one maybe taking a boat, maybe a tuk-tuk, but probably walking uphill and scrambling around steep, rocky, unkempt squares of the mountain. Unkempt isn't a reason to write off land so you have to give due diligence around through the brush as tall as you to try to quickly imagine where a house might go and the degree of impossibilty of constructing in that location. The person escorting you has strong odds of being sheisty and their company can be a drag or can be tolerable.
Here's how it works commonly, not exclusively. An owner puts it out there in the aether that heshe would sell a certain piece of land if someone was buying. Anyone interested (in quickly becoming a real estate agent) could come by this information easily. You can show the land to all the gringoes you want and if you bring an eventual buyer into the owner, you get paid. For this reason, multiple people may show you the same spot, a great waste of time and kick to the day's enthusiasm. What did Yogi say? You always find something in the last place you look. Most of the properties you're shown are a bust and dealbroken quickly for one reason or another(e.g., no water, too far, too loud, too steep). At that point, you figure out how to most quickly have the scout take you over to the next place and address a new set of measurements and asking price.
In my assessment below, I could see many gringoes disagreeing with me on a couple things. I was willing to sacrifice lake proximity and view for other advantages and securities. After you've chosen a village, here's what you need to ask for about the piece of land:
How big should it be?
Guatemala deals in cuerdas, which is pretty Guatemala because a cuerda can be anything from a bathroom tile to Lake Huron. I'm joking. A saving grace is that, I think, Guatemala uses the smallest version of a cuerda, 25m x 25m. I was looking for three to six cuerdas. Bigger would've been fine, but price was likely to prohibit. I ended up with six cuerdas, about an acre, which I'm thrilled about. The place is plenty large and spread out, and I hope it always feels that way with way less coffee and a few simple structures. It should be plenty of space for casitas, kitchen, chickens, garden and yoga. What's tricky about this aspect of the search is that a lot of gringoes end up buying up and combining several different properties into one, so that option is always there if you have interest and someone to help do the owner research. There is land open around El Jocotel, but that'll have to be later and hotel owners keep telling me 'don't let it get too big'.
What's the slope like?
People build on almost any kind of slope. Examples are close around. They know exactly how to excavate, refill, and build retaining walls and flat surfaces. It's still a lot of work and it leads to a very vertical life. If you succeed in finding flatter land, you've probably sacrificed your perfectly splendid lake view, and this is what I did. My land resembles the top of the cross section of an airfoil. The upper limit is nice and gentle, sloped, but softly not requiring much excavation to flatten out. This will unearth rocks all of which whill be used in building. I'll put the structures nearer the top, where it's flatter with better view. Garden and trees below. Good spot for chickens fenced in where the neighbor's chickens currently peck through.
Is there water?
Locals always tell me 'Water is the most important thing' or 'Water is the fluid of life' so they like water, too. You pretty much gotta have it. You can do four things here. 1. Tap municipal water. This is the best I think, for price and ease. This is what I'll do. The pipe runs very close to the property and, knock wood, it comes through good and cheap. 2. You can tap for your own water, either into the ground or from a river. This is a nice option, but probably more expensive, if you're digging, than the muni. Smaller surface rivers run dry, but good underwater rivers run all the time, keeping trees nearby lush. Those trees help lead you to the water. Not every place has this option. 3. You can pump from the lake (regionally). People do this, but I would not be happy drinking filtered lake water. 4. You can not have water. This seems like it would become a drag fast.
Is there electricity?
Using the electrical grid ended up being the best option for my purposes. Electricity is cheap here, and it would've taken years and years to pay off a simple solar electricity system that surely would need replacement parts or new batteries not to mention sourcing the parts and putting it all together. A group of three power lines runs about 12 meters from the corner of my property. The power is helpful running certain tools so it would be nice to have power for building. This gets confusing. The electric company has a rule that you can't hook up power until you have a house. The loophole is that the neighbor between myself and the power pole can agree to have an electric counter (that I pay for) put in and and I can 'steal' electricity from that until I have a house up. I'm not sure this will actually work because they don't have a house up either. We'll see. I think it'll be easy, we'll see.
Do you have a right of access to your own property?
This means: are you allowed to walk to your own property? On the mountain, getting somewhere can involve either a public path or going through someone's property or both at the same time. Some properties I was shown would've required leaving the public path and crossing private property to get home. This could be fine for years and years with all your visitors perhaps or the landowner could have a problem and then you have a problem. Public path goes from the village right to the corner of my place then through it. I have no issue getting there. We're talking dirt walking paths here. There could be a bit of a grey area here as to what is considered a 'public trail' and what's private but the people seem to know. There is one more thing. If what's considered a 'public trail' runs through your property and you intend to fence it off, you must provide alternate trail access for the people. My property has an obviously public path running through it from the middle of the top to halfway down the side. Our first work project is to rework the path to the property corner. We'll smooth it out really nice and at each side add a rock seat area for people carrying firewood or bags of crops to rest. There is another trail through my place, but I'm told it's not public. It is well smaller but I know some people use it (and throw their trash on it). I'm very sorry, but people will have to detour around a bit. They are welcome to stop and rest at my resting area. I hope to not have a problem here. I wrestled, and still wrestle, with myself about whether or not to have a fence and what type of fence to build. Even though I waver, I've long since decided a fence was best for the place I want and the visitors I'd like. There's a group of well-intentioned people, neighbor's chickens and chuchos who need to have a reason not to wander in. If a real thief wants in, they're gonna come in but a fence is pretty necessary.
How far is it from a town? How far is it from a road?
In terms of getting materials there, you can build a house anywhere if you have some extra money for dragging materials up the paths to those places by hand. In some places, there's water and power, but i's an hour and a half walk from the boat. Much of your material will come in by truck, so the closer a truck can get, the better. My closest access will be at the road right where Shad's hotel is. It should be about a ten-minute walk up. I won't be super happy watching young and older Mayan men struggle with heavy loads for construction at my place, and I certainly won't be too happy while I'm struggling with them (while carrying way less), but I believe in the project and having a house. Charlie said that relative to being next to the road, construction would cost me 10% more. Maybe I can offset that by always helping out with 'cargando' and I'm thrilled with my location so I'm on board. As I mentioned, Gallo Beer may add tuk tuk access to very near El Jocotel, and if they do this while I still have things to construct, it will ease the labor heavily for all time.
Where is it? Who are the neighbors?
Tranquility was a must for me. Some places were dealbroken immediately for being right in the village. Tzununa is a loud town, be it church music, stereo music, corn grinders or chuchos in the night. I will hear some of it, but my place is just on the edge of the village with a bit of a buffer. I do have neighbors at one edge point of the property. These are Kaqchikel Mayan people. There's a guy Andres and his family of wife and four young daughters. Unfortunately, I did look at four of his properties and did not end up buying. I was worried he'd hold a grudge but I ran into him at the San Pablo Day Fair yesterday and he greeted me warmly. I'll be at the top of the village so behind me is just mountain. It's all people's property and mostly farmed and harvested for something or other. There are people around and passing through, but they're quiet, friendly and often carrying something heavy and going straight home.
As far as visitors and guests arriving to the hotel, I think it's cool that people will be forced to go right through the village to get there. Lomas and the Moon Lodge are not part of the village. Shad will be and we will be. We are in the village. What people have to say at the hill climb required, that's up in the air. I like it and I'll be in shape.
Is it geographically safe?
I just mentioned living on the same slope as the local people. Doing so gives me comfort that no rocks bigger than my house will roll down and crush my own while I sleep or that I won't wake up swimming in a soup of mud and rock sludge barreling down to the valley below. This is where a lot of gringoes throw Mayan caution to the wind and build right in a spot they like in a dangerous valley or right next to a rising lake. Sure, your house may be safe for five years or even all of your lifetime, but there were storms that devastated here in both 2005 and 2009 so the occurence of another couldn't come as a surprise. Tzununa's river is known to jump and carry over to unknown places. Because of property, trees, deception, magic, and lack of easy access to detailed topographical information, it's often really hard to understand the contours of the land, especially in dry season, and figure out what the water will do. Remember, these are huge mountains and a lot of water spills out and when it comes it happens fast.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Photos on the Way
Thank you to all my faithful readers who have stuck with me through these photo-less times.
In a week or so, I'll be moving up to the new house on my own property. At that point, I'm commited to finding a way to make some photos of the place and posting them here for everyone to finally see. I know everyone won't but I wish everyone would come visit. I'm sure the photos will act as encouragement so please stay tuned another week or so to have a look at my new home and it's surroundings.
When the time is right, when I'm ready, and probably when I'm in the states in May/June, I will get a new camera and resume my photography. I love photography and miss the activity but there is certainly something to be said for being in the moment without necessarily having the digital proof or needing to show/tell someone.
In a week or so, I'll be moving up to the new house on my own property. At that point, I'm commited to finding a way to make some photos of the place and posting them here for everyone to finally see. I know everyone won't but I wish everyone would come visit. I'm sure the photos will act as encouragement so please stay tuned another week or so to have a look at my new home and it's surroundings.
When the time is right, when I'm ready, and probably when I'm in the states in May/June, I will get a new camera and resume my photography. I love photography and miss the activity but there is certainly something to be said for being in the moment without necessarily having the digital proof or needing to show/tell someone.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
How to Cook an Egg Sunny Side Up
I've grown very fond of the kitchen here at the Mirador. Besides
preparing and eating my breakfast downstairs in the kitchen, the
family here also serves my dinner in there. We're quite friendly.
The abuela has pointed directly at me and told me I was her amigo.
Yesterday, the abuelo Diego came to check out my land and my house in
progress. He waved me off from his own hotel saying 'I know where
your land is' so I took off at a good clip in order to see what the
old guy could do. He's got plenty of years of behind him, not too
many teeth, leather sandals, a machete and a sweet palm hat like
mine. He stayed with me pretty well. He's mature in years but still
Mayan and I really haven't met one yet, male or female, who can't get
around any slope without shocking grace and speed. After that we
moved on to the real purpose of our trip, picking oranges from their
property. The oranges were delicious, I ate about 11 in two days.
I'll use the seed from a good one to plant a tree at my place.
Hidden behind the real purpose of the trip is the real real purpose
of the trip, making sure I know where their properties are, in
general, in case I want to buy one or show it to a friend. Despite
this genial relationship, I'm never invited into their kitchen, where
the fire is, for a meal.
My breakfast is often a brunch after doing other things. I get overhungry and try to eat a good amount. Sometimes I think it counts for lunch but then around four pm I get starving and realize I'll never make it to dinner so I eat something. Now I just do it that way normally and at 7:15p when dinner is served I'm always good and hungry again.
There's a breakfast warmup of a hard-boiled egg and a mouthful of trail mix just as I enter the room. This gets me through the prep, which I do fast and crazy so everything is ready at the same time. Mosh is oatmeal and mosh is one my favorite words to say many times throughout the day. I've been having mosh with banana, papaya, zapote, mango, trail mix, coconut, panella and milk powder. That's delicious, it's super instant and the stove boils hot. This paper should've been titled:
The mosh needs constant stirring but I fire up the egg pan with
the oil. College classes like Material Properties and Heat Transfer
made me look at cooking in a new way. This helped me a lot going
from Massachusetts to Guatemala and coming into a drastically new
cooking style. Back in Northampton, we used an electric stove with
burners that cooked low all the way down to room temp. Mostly, we
used cast iron pans. Specific heat capacity is heat capacity: how
much heat something can hang onto as a function of
volume. And this is quantifiable by material and shape. A 12"
cast iron pan, by the time it gets nice and hot, holds onto a lot of
heat in its bulk, and it's often the pan that cooks the food, not
exactly the fire. My eggs are cooked on a thin, light, blue enamel
six inch pan. It has a very low heat capacity. I get the oil pretty
hot, mysteriously sometimes crackling, and sometimes not, and I keep
the fire hot beneath. If you keep a lower fire, your first egg might
be fine, but it might suck every bit of heat from the pan, and when
your second egg hits, it splashes down onto a much cooler pan, not
crackling and bubbling immediately the way it should. Two eggs is
ideal, and remember, I've had a warmup egg, so this makes three all
told. Watch the eggs and tilt the pan around to redistribute the oil and
uncooked egg. When there is the right amount of liquid still
visible, kill the heat. I think this is the crux. Leave the eggs on
this pan over no heat for the right cure and now you have no rush to
get them on the plate. With cast iron, the pan can't help but
continue cooking the eggs and your yolk will begin to firm up. If
you killed the heat and put them on a plate, the temperature
difference of the cooler plate may halt the bit of cooking that you
still need to happen. If you just leave them on the cheap pan for a
time, the egg whites cook themselves through and the yolk warms up
but is completely runny.
My breakfast is often a brunch after doing other things. I get overhungry and try to eat a good amount. Sometimes I think it counts for lunch but then around four pm I get starving and realize I'll never make it to dinner so I eat something. Now I just do it that way normally and at 7:15p when dinner is served I'm always good and hungry again.
There's a breakfast warmup of a hard-boiled egg and a mouthful of trail mix just as I enter the room. This gets me through the prep, which I do fast and crazy so everything is ready at the same time. Mosh is oatmeal and mosh is one my favorite words to say many times throughout the day. I've been having mosh with banana, papaya, zapote, mango, trail mix, coconut, panella and milk powder. That's delicious, it's super instant and the stove boils hot. This paper should've been titled:
Cooking at hot temperature in
Guatemala as a result of cheap, light cookware and gas stoves with no
low heat capability.
Thinking back, there was a time
when I thought 'What is the deal with sunny side up eggs? I'd like
to learn how to cook an egg sunny side up.' In fact, I'd like to be
proficient at doing an egg every way. But I think I tried a few
times and didn't realize how to do it right, and I inadvertently went
back to over easy. I happened on it because of the Guatemalan
economy and the way it informs their cooking. Will I get cast iron
here? I'm not sure. I love it, but cast iron will be more expensive
to buy, heavier to carry, and more gas as the stove takes the time to
heat it up. Gas is a heavy tank that needs to be taken up the hill,
too. Should I do cast iron or custom-made stove with griddle-top for
those eggs? These are the challenges I'm facing. I'll have an egg.
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