Economics With A Face

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September 30, 2005

A Lessons from the Braceros: Don’t Trust the Government with your Money

On an overcast summer morning this past July, a group of over one hundred older men gathered in the main plaza of Aguascalientes, Mexico. They wore white cowboy hats, workers clothes, and their faces were worn, no doubt from years of hard work. Not the type of people you would expect to find at a protest, yet in a way that is exactly what they had come to do. They had turned up in numbers to pressure the government, whose offices were located just off the plaza, into handing over money that had been withheld from their wages decades ago. It was a task that was proving to be quite difficult.

These men, many now in their 70’s and 80’s, were former braceros, Mexican citizens allowed to enter the United States legally to work in the agricultural industry in the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s. Unlike many undocumented workers who currently reside in the United States, after the picking season was over the Braceros returned home to their families with the money they had made. There was no need to pay thousands of dollars to illegal smugglers or to risk their lives crossing treacherous deserts as they were able to legally travel to the U.S. to work. As a consequence of the program, U.S. employers found willing workers while braceros received better wages than possible in their home country of Mexico making both parties better off.

One aspect of this program was that during its initial years, by law, 10% of their wages were automatically withheld by U.S. employers. This money was to be set aside for savings in old age. It is with regards to this last point that a current controversy has erupted. No bracero has ever seen a dime of this money.

The leader of the group in Aguascalientes made it clear that he blamed the Mexican government. “The money was sent years ago by the U.S.” he explained, “It’s our government that has eaten it up and kept it from us.” Reading up about the situation this appears to be the case. The money was deposited in a Wells Fargo Bank in San Francisco and then transferred to a government bank in Mexico City. While the details of what happened next are unclear, I don’t think there are many doubts that their money was not saved but instead spent by the Mexican government.

Today, not surprisingly, lawyers are suing everyone involved. For its part, the Mexican government has set up a fund to compensate the workers. But it is still trying to figure out whom to give the money to and is currently compiling a list of names. Meanwhile, similar demonstrations by braceros across the country have continued, some of which have sadly turned violent. No clear solution is in sight.

These braceros had every intention to believe that the money being withheld from their paychecks was being put aside and saved for a later date. They have found out the hard way that governments are not the best instruments to save for old age. With this in mind one can draw a few parallels with the U.S. Social Security system.

By law, U.S. employers also withhold wages from workers paychecks that many think is being saved in an account. The truth is that this money, much like the braceros withholdings, is not being saved but is spent by the government as soon as it is received. The main difference I see between the braceros and those who are currently paying into the U.S. Social Security system is that today’s workers have no excuse for being duped.

Economists, politicians, columnists, and many others have made clear for decades a simple fact: no Social Security payroll taxes have ever been saved. When today’s workers retire their benefits will not come from a bank account where the government has put away their money. Instead, all future benefits must come from future taxpayers.

Excess payroll tax revenue that is represented in the Trust Fund is money that has been spent as well. The government spends excess payroll tax receipts on aircraft carriers, national parks, or whatever else it needs and places a special issue treasury bond in the Trust Fund. Unfortunately, if these bonds were ever to come due their source of revenue is also future taxpayer’s dollars, so they do not help fund the system in any way.

It is for these reasons, along with demographic changes that mean fewer workers will be supporting each retiree, that the Congressional Budget Office now estimates that there are trillions of dollars of unfunded liabilities within the system. Something needs to be done.

Since the alarms have already been sounded on numerous fronts, I though I would take the opportunity to cite a few such forewarnings chosen specifically because people might find either their sources or their timing surprising. Currently the debate over Social Security reform has cooled considerably, but there is no doubt that it will at some point be back on the table. When that time comes, the more people that are informed about the unsound nature of the program the better. Hopefully, this small collection of citations will help to accomplish that goal.

***

To start off with many believe that the complaints about the structure of the Social Security system are an advent of the current administration. But way back in the 1940’s, only years after Social Security was signed into law, economist Ludwig Von Mises in his magnum opus, Human Action, made the point that no savings were taking place within the system.

He wrote: "Paul in the year 1940 saves by paying one hundred dollars to the national social security institution. He receives in exchange a claim which is virtually an unconditional government IOU… The government's IOU is a check drawn upon the future taxpayer. In 1970 a certain Peter may have to fulfill the government's promise although he himself does not derive any benefit from the fact that Paul in 1940 saved one hundred dollars.... The statesmen of 1940 solve their problems by shifting them to the statesmen of 1970. On that date the statesmen of 1940 will be either dead or elder statesmen glorying in their wonderful achievement, social security."

One needs only to change the dates from 1940 and 1970 to 2000 and 2040, respectively, and the quote would be as valid today as it was in the 1940s.

***

More recently, economist Paul Krugman called Social Security what it is: a “Ponzi” scheme.

In 1996 in the Boston Review he correctly pointed out that Social Security had a “…Ponzi game aspect, in which each generation takes more out than it put in. Well, the Ponzi game will soon be over, thanks to changing demographics, so that the typical recipient henceforth will get only about as much as he or she put in (and today’s young may well get less than they put in).”

While Krugman is now a vocal critic of reforming Social Security, in 1996 his words rang true… and they still do.

***

Politicians too have frequently warned about the flaws in the program. In 1991 Harry Reid, now Senate minority leader, defended his vote to cut Social Security taxes by pointing out the fact that excess receipts from the system were not being saved but instead were being spent on other projects.

Specifically he said: "I think we have to stop spending social security monies on foreign aid and other wasteful programs and that in effect is what's being done…When we go to the vault to get that money it's going to have been used for other purposes."

I’d be interested in hearing what Senator Reid would say about his quote today.

***

And just a few years back, Bill Clinton’s proposed budget for fiscal year 2000 made a similar point.

It stated that the Social Security Trust Fund is “…available to finance future benefit payments and other trust fund expenditures--but only in a bookkeeping sense. These funds are not set up to be pension funds, like the funds of private pension plans. They do not consist of real economic assets that can be drawn down in the future to fund benefits. Instead, they are claims on the Treasury, that, when redeemed, will have to be financed by raising taxes, borrowing from the public, or reducing benefits or other expenditures. The existence of large trust fund balances, therefore, does not, by itself, make it easier for the government to pay benefits.”

Quotes like this show just how much of a role partisan politics is currently playing in the debate over reforming the system.

***

One of the favorite lines of those who oppose dealing with Social Security’s unfunded liabilities today is that “there is no crisis.” They are right. There is no crisis today… but one looms down the road.

We have been amply warned that the money withheld from our paychecks will not be financing our future retirement benefits. This money must come from the paychecks of our children and grandchildren. The fact is that if we don’t start putting our money in real assets and reform the system, our offspring will likely be saddled with an unfair burden. That, or senior citizens will have to take a large cuts in benefits. Neither option seems fair to me.

Braceros in Mexico I spoke with felt that the government is waiting until they all pass away so they will never have to pay up the money they are due. What a depressing state of affairs. While the fact that Social Security has promised to pay out trillions more in benefits than it will take in through taxes should act as a wake up call, a scene such as this should get us out of bed and working on the system’s problems today.

For in 2050, one of the last things I want to see is senior citizens in the U.S. spending their Sunday mornings trying to pressure bureaucrat politicians into paying them their promised benefits that have actually been spent decades ago. It was a sad sight to behold in Mexico, and no doubt a sadder one for anyone to go through personally. Let’s tackle this problem now to avoid any chance of such a situation.

Posted by Peter Mork at 6:55 PM | Comments | TrackBack

Surfs Up

Today Em took a surf lesson in the afternoon while I relaxed on the beach and did some reading. Her instructor was a great guy from Florida named Bob who had been in the military the last 7 years and had got our 6 months ago. He was down in Tamarindo teaching some surfing, working at a restaurant, and enjoying the Costa Rica lifestyle. After the lesson we saw him at a local café where we talked about some books he recommended we look into.

Inspired, we over to the local book and music store called Jaime Peligro and were shocked to find out that the owner was raised in St. Helena, California, Emily’s hometown of about 6,000 people. She actually went to high school with his daughter who was a few grades ahead of her. Apart from the home town connection, it was interesting talking about the benefits of CAFTA with someone who described himself as a “hippie” in his youth. A successful businessman, he was counting down the days until it was ratified by the Costa Rican congress.

Tonight we ate dinner at the pizza place that Bob works at and watch the Boston/Yankee game with a bunch of rowdy fans from New York and Massachusetts. Tomorrow we head southwest along the coast to Manuel Antonio.

Posted by Peter Mork at 11:53 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 29, 2005

La Playa

This morning, after eating, we checked out another hotel. We were both shocked to see the quality of the room which really was so much better it wasn’t even comparable. Better yet it was only a few bucks more. We rushed to our hotel, checked out, and headed back down to our new place. Em was ecstatic.

We spent the afternoon on the beach about 20 minutes south of Tamarindo at Playa Langosta. When we first came across the mouth of a small river hitting the sea I immediately started out across it. Em was worried about getting her camera wet to which I replied “How deep can it be? Just hold you bag up and it won’t get wet.”

A minute later I was walking in water that was a good 6 inches over my head and holding my bag up as high as I could praying it wouldn’t get wet (though knowing if the water got any deeper it would be soaked). All the time I was jumping up and down gasping for air when my mouth would momentarily reach the surface as the current pushed me out towards the sea. Once again Em was right and I was wrong.

After braving the river again (luckily I found a place to cross that was only chest deep) and we laid out a towel and took in some sun on the practically deserted beach. Tonight we had pizza and watch the sunset at a local restaurant and shortly afterwards called it a night.

Posted by Peter Mork at 11:50 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 28, 2005

Trek to Tamarindo

We caught an 11:30 bus to Playa Tamarindo on the Pacific coast. It was another long journey and at this point I’m thoroughly sick of being on buses and boats. At one point of the trip the road was completely flooded but the bus driver showed no fear and plowed through the river which was a few feet deep over the road.

At 7:00pm and now dark we arrived in Tamarindo and grabbed a taxi to one of the recommended hotels in the LP. A group of about 8 little kids and a teacher doing yoga and what appeared to be meditation spiritual chants in a circle on hardwood floor near the entrance of the hotel greeted us as we entered the building. Classic Lonely Planet authors I thought, but the owner informed us that she was just about to close for the week as she was heading out of town.

Heading out we met a teenaged Italian girl who informed us that her mother had a place for rent nearby. We checked it out and ended up taking a room. It was far from luxurious but at least it was a place to sleep. Down the road we splurged on dinner at a sushi restaurant of all places. This town must have a decent sized expat community judging by the variety of restaurants which range from a Burger King to some pretty nice places. It’s much more developed than the small beach town I was expecting. Tomorrow we’ll get to see the town during the light of day.

Posted by Peter Mork at 11:47 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 27, 2005

River Boat Border Crossing

A little after 5:00 in the morning, and after another half-hour nap under the table, the boat finally docked in San Carlos, Nicaragua. The town is situated along the southern end of Lake Nicaragua where it meets Rio San Juan which flows along the Nicaraguan-Costa Rican border until it meets the Caribbean. A hot and muggy port-town, the place was bustling as we stumbled off the ferry. A woman was selling coffee and pan dulce along the side of the dusty main road, so we bought some and sat on plastic chairs with a couple of Canadians to pass the first hour, and then had breakfast in a small restaurant a few doors down. Finally at 8:00 the immigration office, which was located on a dock on the lake, opened and we got our exit stamps for Nicaragua.

The boat heading to Costa Rica didn’t leave until 10:30 so we headed down the street to take a look at a small market where people were selling fish and crabs that they had caught out of the lake and the mouth of the river, as well as chickens and bananas. The small crabs were sold ten at a time laced on a string. We watched customers walking through town with this string of crabs, bundles of fish, and live chickens held by their feet. Before long we were on the river boat heading up the Rio San Juan into Costa Rica. During the hour journey we met a nice family: the parents were originally from Nicaragua but now lived and worked in Los Chiles, Costa Rica, while both of their two young boys had been born in Costa Rica. We had heard stories that Costa Rica was full of immigrants and migrant workers from other Central American countries; people were drawn there by the stronger economy. This family was an example.

Once in Costa Rica when I went to pull money out of the bank I realized I didn’t have my credit card. Most likely I never got it back after the last meal but who knows. There wasn’t much I could do about it as we needed to quickly get on a bus to Ciudad Quesada. Luckily we made it in time. Hours later we jumped out of this bus and into another headed for San Jose along the side of a road. The buses here are no longer school buses but instead luxury cruisers. I kinda miss the former. Finally, around 7:00pm at night we checked into our hotel.

When I was 19 I took a trip to Costa Rica, the first trip I had taken to what one might consider the developing world (I had gone with my parents to Acapulco, Mexico when I was 5 or 6 but this was my first trip as a young adult). Landing in San Jose and making our way through the city during a torrential downpour I felt like I was in a completely different world. Entering San Jose this time around, I felt like we were back home. It was instantly obvious that this was the strongest economy in Central America we had seen.

Once settled in the hotel I gave Juan Carlos Hidalgo a call. Although we have never even spoken before, we had corresponded by email. Juan Carlos formerly worked at the Cato Institute and now works with the Libertarian Party in Costa Rica (10% of the Congress in Costa Rica is Libertarian). Unfortunately, he was leaving for Spain the next day, so tonight was our only chance to meet. When I reached him he was at a bar having a few drinks with some friends before his departure, and invited us to join them. I said we would try to make it over after we got a bite to eat, but made no promises as both Em and I were tired after our 28 hour journey.

Dinner recharged us though and an hour and a half later we caught a cab to the La Villa, a bar in a trendy part of Costa Rica. Unfortunately, we never did meet up with Juan Carlos. He might have just left or we might have walked by each other 20 times in the happening place. Although we missed each other, it was great to get out and see some of the San Jose nightlife.

After a few drinks and cruising around the bar one last time we called it a night. Tomorrow we are off to Playa Tamarindo. We have heard that Costa Rica (and all the rest of the Pacific coast of Central America) is being flooded by rain from Hurricane Stan and the dirt roads quickly wash out. We´ll see if we make it.

Posted by Peter Mork at 11:45 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 26, 2005

The Journey into Costa Rica

Over breakfast we met an employee at the third hotel named Jose who wanted to give us a tour of the surrounding forest in exchange for practicing English with him during the walk. We all agreed to meet at one o’clock to give us plenty of time to do the hike, eat lunch, and then catch the 4:00pm bus to get up the ferry for San Carlos which left at 7 pm.

Before the hike we explored a bit more of the island on our own heading to the south. It is really a beautiful place and once we ended up back at the hotel I took a swim in the lake. The water on this side of the island is like glass and I floated out in the lake for a long while just listening to the howler monkeys on shore and watching flocks of parrots fly by. It felt like a place I would come back to.

At one we met up with Jose and he took us on the hike. I had questioned whether we really needed him in the morning thinking it was an easy trail to follow. As it turns out we would have been totally lost without him. When we finally emerged from the jungle at the end of the hike near the hotel, I was so turned around I thought we were getting close to the other side of the island.

During the hike we saw large parrots, bats, howler monkeys, and white-faced capuchin monkeys. It was well worth it. Back at the hotel Jose was our waiter for lunch and I gave him a good tip to thank him. He was also an amazing student. He had started to learn English, practically on his own, six months ago and was already nearly fluent. Every time he heard a phrase he didn’t know he wrote it down in a booklet he carried in his pocket which he would study every night. It was impressive.

We were packed and waiting on the side of the road with our luggage at 4:00 but the bus never came. We were told it probably broke down and there would be another one at 5:30 but it never came either. Some howler monkeys entertained us in the huge trees across the road. Everytime a bus would roar by (in the opposite direction from where we wanted to go) the howlers would let out their deep growns in response. At 5:45 we flagged down a pickup full of people in the back. I asked how much it would be to Altagracia, but the guy in the back just started to grab the bags and told me not to worry about it. I asked the driver again, not wanting to get charged more than we had on us once we arrived, but he said he was heading that way already and it would be free of charge. He dropped us off 20 minutes later at the edge of town.

We walked another 2km to the port, most of it with a 17 year old named Diego who worked for a hotel in Altagracia. Another nice kid and another diligent English student.

We thought everything was going to plan when we arrived at the port but when we went to buy tickets we were informed by the ladies behind the counter that ticket sales stopped at 6:00pm and we were 20 minutes too late. I asked if there was any possible way that we could buy a ticket as missing this boat meant that we would have to wait another 3 days on the island and we were already low on cash. There was no way one of the women replied and turned her back to me and sat down. Rules were rules and they couldn’t or didn’t want to see beyond them. I was dumbfounded feeling like I was dealing with DMV employees, quite a difference from the bus service we had encountered throughout Central America where bus operators begged you to get on their bus as it was pulling out of the station.

After I offered to pay more for the ticket which got another resounding no from the lady who had turned her back on me, Em started in explaining how the buses were not running and we had been walking for some time just to get to here 20 minutes late. To my surprise the she looked around and saw us both dripping with sweat. “These poor kids” she said “they’ve been walking with their bags since Altagracia. Alright we’ll sell you the tickets.” I was shocked but happy.

Soon we were on the boat on the top level. We paid a bit more for the upper level which had air-conditioning, but needless to say the air-conditioning broke two minutes after we were inside. The boat departed around 8:00 and I made my way out on the deck to just sit and watch a lighting storm for the first 2 hours of the ride as I unwound. Em after writing in her journal eventually joined me but just as she came outside it began to rain. Back inside the boat I found room to lie down under one of the benches and Em found a place next to me under the table. We made a few stops during the 8 hour journey through the night. At 3 in the morning I woke up to the sound of 10 year olds selling hot coffee and tortillas and queso fresco signaling we were docked. These kids have an unbelievable work ethic. Unable to sleep I made my way out on the deck to watch crews unload cargo such as bananas before we departed.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:50 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 25, 2005

Ojo de Agua

Today we set off walking through the banana tree fields after breakfast towards the Ojo de Agua, a natural spring about a mile north of our hotel. Once there we met the lady in charge of the place and paid a one dollar fee that allowed us to use the pool that had been constructed for swimming.

It was a fun and relaxing time. A family from the island was there at the same time and Em got some great photos of both the older kids jumping off the rope swing and the youngest member of the family, a 6 month old boy who was enjoying his first trip to the spring.

On the way back to the hotel we got a good view of some howler monkeys that were passing over the road as we were walking back. There is definitely a plethora of wildlife on the island.

Since the island has no banks, and we were running low on cash, we had dinner at the third hotel, which was the most expensive of the bunch in Santo Domingo but it accepted credit cards. It was a good meal and we’ve decided that our final two meals here will be here tomorrow since we can pay with my visa. We don’t want to run out of cash for the ferry to the Costa Rican border.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:47 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 24, 2005

Isla de Ometepe

We woke up and grabbed a bus to Rivas where we next jumped on a taxi towards Lago de Nicaragua. First, though, in the bus lot leaving Granada, Em spotted a friend from highschool that she used to play basketball with jumping on another bus. She raced the bus down and knocked on the window. Tish Landis was heading to Costa Rica. Crazy. Before long were on a small cargo boat headed to Isla de Ometepe, an island created from two volcanos, located right in the middle of the lake. The best part of the boat ride was when some Nicaraguan boys in bathing suits who were with us on the ferry as we left the dock, ran and dove off the top deck to swim back. It looked like great fun.

Once on the island we jumped aboard a bus headed to Playa Santo Domingo, a beach on the north side of the island. We arrived about an hour and a half later. There were three hotels in town but we headed for Hospedaje Buena Vista (recommended by Eelco and Bas) run by island native Byron Flores. Not only was it the cheapest but in our opinion it was also the best. Hammocks and rocking chairs lined the patio which opened up to a great view of the lake. Not only was it beautiful but we were the only guests in the hotel so we had the whole place to ourselves.

We had dinner at the next hotel over whose owner I talked to for a while before we ate about politics in both Nicaragua and the U.S. While we were eating, a curious and aggressive cat came to our table looking for some food. We broke down and threw her a few bites of fish. She disappeared quickly. We found out later that she was a cat from our hotel that had just had kittens.

To my delight, as we were finishing up our meal, I heard HBO Boxing come on the television in the lobby. After paying the bill we headed inside and I watched a Miguel Cotto fight with a worker from the hotel while Em and his girlfriend were bored to tears. The Klitchco/Peters match that was supposed to be up next wasn’t show on Nicaraguan TV and I told the guy that Em had gotten lucky. “So did she…” he replied gesturing towards his girlfriend. We headed back to the hotel and got some sleep.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:41 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 23, 2005

Las Islas

This morning we took a tour of several small islands that lay off the shore of Granada. Our guide, Roberto, was hilarious. He just kept feeding us one comic story after another. They ranged from him being attacked by a monkey, eating a grilled horse leg for $50, the day before putting a friend who had passed out in a gutter roaring with water as tourists passed by, and many more. He had a real soft side too as he shared stories with us about his adopted one and a half year old son and the various pets he had back at his house. He, like Miguel in El Salvador, was about to become a citizen of the U.S., he had passed the test and just needed to be sworn in.

The islands surrounding Granada were beautiful. Several had incredible vacation homes on them. Some were home to local fishermen and their families with basic houses beyond the mangroves. Three monkeys lived on one of the small islands. We stopped at one island that had a restaurant for a drink and a swim. Em of course got some more great photos.

The afternoon was hectic as we rushed around to purchase our airplane tickets to Venezuela as well as outbound tickets to Panama from San Jose. It amazingly all worked out and at 6:00 we went out to grab a bite to eat.

We ordered a plate for two that turned out to be huge portions of various greasy appetizers. There were chicken wings, fried bananas, even fried cheese. Needless to say I was in heaven. As we were finishing two ten year old boys came in who saw us packing up the leftovers. They asked if they could have some so of course we gave them some food and they were off. One of them came back into the restaurant 2 minutes later and asked if he could just have the entire bag of leftovers so he could share them with his friends. We handed it over and as the boy, surprised, exited the restaurant and screamed “Marcos!!!” to his friend across the street, holding up the bag victoriously as if he had won the lottery.

That attracted the attention of another young boy who was 12. He came in and after offering to sell us some cashews asked if he could have some food. We’d just given away all the good stuff we explained, but he pointed to the bed of lettuce and vegetables that the appetizers had come on. If he wanted it, it was his, we explained, so he sat down next to us and devoured the salad as we talked to him about his living situation. He described what he and his family had to eat on a daily basis. Gallo pinto, a mixture of flavored rice and black beans, which comes with practically every meal in Central America, was the staple. They rarely had chicken and rarely vegetables. It is a telling sign when a 12 year old boy gulps down huge bites of salad as if it were ice cream.

Another group of nine and ten year olds passing by saw the boy eating next to us and came in to see if they could get any food. We explained there was nothing left yet they pointed to the plate of leftover bones from the chicken wings. “There’s still some meat on those,” they said with a somewhat dumbfounded look on their faces. Em put these leftovers together on some napkins for them and they thanked us and were out the door cleaning the bones completely. It was a heart-wrenching scene.

As we were getting up to leave, Carlos, from the night before came by. He walked with us to the plaza with his hand on Em’s arm and I gave him some money and some advice. It really didn’t seem like he wanted any advice though. I’m not sure if it was because he was only 7 years old or because he was a very hardened 7 year old and didn’t want to be taking advice from a gringo. Either way you could tell he smart nice kid. You’d have to be inhuman not to feel for all these young guys.

That night back at the hotel we talked some more with Eelco and Bas, a couple from the Netherlands, who we had met earlier in the day. If you thought we were on a long trip take a look at their website, www.baseneelco.nl. They have been traveling for the last 11 months in the south of Mexico and Central America with no set date for returning home. Along the way they make websites for hotels (both have masters in computer science) and often stay for free because of it. They plan on traveling around the globe but if they get tired are just going to head back. Next up they are going to do a big loop through South America, and then head up through the Caribbean to the U.S. They might stop by and see us in California in about a year and half.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:38 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 22, 2005

A Day In the Cafes

Today was a very quiet day. We spent the morning exploring the city and relaxing in intent cafes narrowing down our options for getting to Venezuela. It was a nice change of pace and we enjoyed just taking it easy.

Over dinner a 7 year old boy came up to us and asked us if we had any spare change. We didn’t at the time but instead I gave him a pen we had bought in Mexico that was surrounded by colorful threads. He liked it and after I asked him his name, Carlos, I took the pen from him and wrote it on the palm of my hand, along with my own name Peter.

Immediately he was writing on his own hand trying to spell out his name. I gave him some paper to practice and wrote out both our names as an example and he diligently practiced writing until we left. You could tell he was another good kid in a tough situation.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:34 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 21, 2005

Huelga

Entering the hotel after breakfast, it looked like all hell was breaking loose in the city on the TV people were watching in the courtyard. People were getting arrested by the cops, cameras followed bloodied individuals who had been hurt in skirmishes between the police and bus operators, and there were reports that the strikers were blocking traffic and lighting tires on fire across the city.

The reason for all this mess is that while all buses in the country used for transportation are privatized, by law if you want to operate a bus you must belong to the union. In exchange for granting the union monopoly operating privileges, the government sets price controls on how much they can charge. With the price of gasoline soaring in Nicaragua, as in the rest of the world, the bus operators say they need to be able to charge more in order to recover their costs. Well, politicians don’t want to raise the price cap because then they are going to get an earful (at the minimum) from their constituents. So that was the basis of the strike that had now turned violent

A guy from Nicaragua in the hotel explained that like many things in the country the people suffer on both ends. The politicians say they are going to control how much the buses can charge, but then gas goes up and they have problems like this. Another example he gave me was that politicians attempting to control the price of electricity for the masses passed laws that only let prices go up for businesses (i.e. consumers who used over a certain amount of electricity a month). But as this meant even greater price increases for businesses than what otherwise would have been, the businesses pass the cost onto the consumer in the form of higher prices. Again, life is harder for ordinary Nicaraguans.

Although we were packed and ready to go on our tour, the guide never showed up, which we decided was probably for the better. In the hotel a guest from Honduras and one of his friends/coworkers from Nicaragua I had talked to earlier gave us a lift across town so we could get on a bus out of town to Granada. They even walked us to the bus to make sure we got on the right one. On the way it was interesting getting their perspectives on Central America.

An hour later we were in Granada. It is similar to Antigua in appearances and both duke it out for the title of “oldest city in the Americas”, but Em and I agree we both like this place better. There is more of a sleepy, local vibe here, where in Antigua we felt like we were in big tourist bubble. The hotel is great. Over lunch a young kid selling things table to table got lightly hit by a car that was backing up. Surprised and angry, he yelled at the driver but was mainly ignored as the guy sped off. He broke into tears but luckily the lady from the restaurant brought him inside and gave him some food and a coke to try to help him feel better.

Tonight we ate tacos and talked to a group of 17 year olds we met in the plaza about life here in Nicaragua. Tomorrow we plan on just relaxing and trying to finalize our airline tickets to Caracas.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:31 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 20, 2005

Off to Managua

We had a quick breakfast at the hotel and then jumped into a taxi and were off to the bus station. Before leaving though we talked to Bob and Sarah, the couple we had met yesterday, who suggested some hotels in Granada we might want to consider staying at.

A couple hours bouncing around in the back of another school bus brought us to Managua. The LP guide only lists one area of town to stay in, but it looked like there were many options so we picked one that had a decent description in the book and had the taxi driver take us there. Driving through the city all the buses were lined up on the side of the roads as the city buses were currently on strike. On the way our driver warned us that in this area of the city we were staying tourists were known to get mugged so we should be careful.

The driver got a bit turned around when we were looking for the hotel and as he was flipping a U-turn in the intersection a 18 year old kid came up and asked where we were going. When the driver told him the name of the hotel he handed us a business card of the same hotel through the back window and then took off in a sprint towards the place. The driver tried to beat him in a race for the commission but we all arrived at the same time. The elderly lady who ran the place had me testify as to exactly what happened and in the end the taxi driver walked with the commission. I gave the young guy the change in my pocket so he wouldn’t walk away empty handed but he was still disappointed with the outcome.

When asked about a good place to eat we were again warned about getting robbed in the neighborhood and were told to only take enough money for lunch and to leave all valuables locked in the room. That way if we did get robbed we wouldn’t lose too much. Not the type of neighborhood I really wanted to be in and to my surprise the guidebook said nothing about any kind of danger.

We walked down the street and found a good buffet and had a good meal. On the way back I found a place to get a haircut, which I desperately needed, so I found out how much it was and ran back to the hotel to grab some more cash. Eveling, the girl who cut my hair, confirmed as well that the neighborhood had gotten worse in the last year, which explained why the guidebook said nothing about any kind of danger. Luckily there have not been any cases of anyone getting hurt, that these kids will flash a knife to scare tourists, and then take their cash but if you told them no and then walked off they most likely wouldn’t do a thing. She said that the police had been more lax about crime in the area recently but it didn’t have anything to do with a change in political parties. She also said that poverty was the excuse people used but at the same time there were a lot of these kids that just didn’t want to work. As an example, she said the other day she was washing windows outside the shop and a kid walked up and asked for a cordoba. When she replied that she would give him five cordobas if he would help her he replied that he asked her to give him money, not a job.

That night at dinner around the corner we ran into the brother and sister traveling together from Japan that we had met in Guatemala. They were in Managua for just one night as well and we staying at a place just a block away. No one had told them the neighborhood was dangerous so we debriefed them on the situation. In another example of the poverty around this area a kid came up to us as we finished our meal and had us scrape our leftovers into a bag for him to eat. We gave him the food and some cash as well although he didn’t ask for any money. It’s a tough life here without many opportunities.

After dinner we exchanged emails at our hotel and then said goodnight. Tomorrow we have a tour planned at 9:00pm of the city. It should be interesting to compare it to San Salvador.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:29 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 19, 2005

Selva Negra

Today we spend the majority of the day at Selva Negra, a park with old growth cloud forest, a coffee plantation and a hotel originally founded by a German couple decades ago. It is about 15 km north of the city and features several hiking trails where you can explore the Nicaraguan forests. It was very muddy given that it had just rained but we managed the trails.

During the hike we met a couple that was also backpacking through Central America. They were in the process of moving from England to Australia, this trip being their vacation in-between. We hiked with them for a bit and actually got to see some howler monkeys from the top of one of the ridges.

After making our way back down we had a snack at the hotel and then walked to the road where we caught a bus back to town. We had a great dinner at a little restaurant in town and then after attempting to catch up on some email on a very slow internet connection we headed back to the hotel and called it a night.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:25 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 18, 2005

Crossing Into Nicaragua

Today, after eating at a great breakfast place the little guy on the right led us to, we jumped in a colectivo van that took us to the border. The driver and the collector almost got it as full as the bus last night but not quite. Em had a 7 year old on her lap most of the ride and in all there were 26 people in the mini-van. No kidding. Soon though we had our backpacks on and were walking into Nicaragua.

After going through immigration we jumped in a taxi to get to the nearest town Somoto, which was about 20 km away. The driver and I talked about sports, Cuba, Nicaragua and more during the ride. After he dropped us off we were again shortly on another school bus. Before we departed to Esteli we talked with a 12 year old and 15 year old who sold us some bottled water for the trip. When Em asked if they were brothers the older boy replied that they were friends but only at work, as the younger boy would ignore him when he saw him on the street at night. Apparently, he wasn’t popular enough to hang out with the other kids outside of work but Em and I thought he was a sweetheart. We talked to him until our bus left and he shook our hands and said he was happy we met before he jumped off the bus as it pulled out of the station.

Two hours later we arrived in Esteli and found out we needed to head to another terminal to get to Matagalpa. Everyone has been quick to help us out, often without us asking or asking for anything in return. At about 4:30 we pulled into Matagalpa. It turns out that we are here for the annual town agricultural fair which today featured a huge parade through town with horses and floats.

We found a hotel, watched the parade, grabbed some food, and then made our way to the fair where at 8:00 I got to see my first live rodeo. We talked with a family next to us who had 4 boys ranging from 6-11 and a little girl who was 4 years old. The rodeo was a bit disappointing as it mainly consisted of a young bull bucking someone within 5 seconds and then 5 minutes of the clowns torturing the poor animal that was clearly confused and outmatched. Still it was an interesting experience. I had to keep reminding myself where I was. Traveling through all of these countries in such a short time it is easy to lose track. Also, being at a rodeo is one of the last things I thought I would be doing on my first night in Nicaragua.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:20 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 17, 2005

No Maximum Occupancy

It was an adventurous day of travel. Over breakfast we saw the first other tourists we have seen in El Salvador. It was a couple from Australia who were about to head out to the coast to spend 3-weeks surfing. They borrowed our guidebook over the meal to get the names of a few places to say and then were off.

We packed up our bags and before long were on a series of buses to get to the Honduran border at El Amatillo. Arriving at the bus station in San Salvador we were swarmed by guys trying to get us to ride on their buses. Within 3 minutes we were jumping aboard the bus we wanted which was already rolling out of the station. Experiencing how well all of these private buses operate getting everyone across the country or wherever else they want to go for practically nothing makes me wonder if we really need public transportation in the U.S.

At the border, now about 12:30, we jumped on a bike taxi and made our way through customs and immigration. Once in Honduras I had to haggle with the guy who gave us a ride because upon exiting the bus he said he’d give us a ride for a small tip and I stupidly jumped on the bike without realizing his definition of small was $10. In the end it all worked out though after some negotiation.

Driving through Honduras on yet another school bus the first thing that stood out was how many more animals grazed on the sides of the road. Goats, cows, pigs, and more. The highway was like a big farm. We bounced around in the back of the bus and after another couple hours we were in Choluteca, one of the largest cities in the south of the country. We collected our bags and hurried off to find the bus to San Marcos, a town near the Nicaraguan border which would be our final destination.

The police blocked the way of the bus momentarily as a thief has stolen something from a woman directly in front of us. They were trying to figure out what had happened. Before long though we were off… unfortunately not for long.

About 20 minutes into the ride the bus broke down and everyone on our bus that was already full, had to make our way onto another bus that was already half full. I was considering just spending the night in Choluteca but we decided to go for it as it would really make our trip tomorrow much easier if we could make it to San Marcos. One of the operators threw our bags uptop and tied them down, so now we definitely had to get onto the bus. One problem though. There was no, and I mean absolutely no room at this point. Every seat was full and isles were so packed that people were literally coming out the doors.

I left Em at the rear entrance with instruction for her to beg her way on if need be. I could tell there was no way both of us were getting on at this entrance as an older lady and kid were already packed tightly together on the last step. I was able to get a foot on the bottom step near the driver, getting half my body aboard. At the rear of the bus I could see one of the bus operators making sure Em got squeezed in.

We drove off with two guys hanging out the front exit, half my body hanging over the edge, and all in all about 5 of us on the bottom step or hanging out the door. I was shocked when the bus continued to stop to pick people up. Soon there were about 5 guys hanging on the bars that extended out to the side view mirror or from the windows. Just when I thought “Well, at least we are going to make it” we turned a corner where a police pickup was parked and quickly waved us over. Initially when the guys outside saw it they all tried to cram inside to hide but not even one person more could fit. Next thing I knew the cops had the driver out of the bus and were talking to him and the other operator.

I asked a guy next to me if they were going to detain the bus, but he replied they probably just wanted a bribe and then would let us go. “Bienvenidos a Honduras” he jokingly told me. Sure enough the driver shortly made his way back to where we were standing, slyly took out his wallet beyond the view of the policemen, and removed a 20 lempira bill, although I could see he had much more. He made his way back to the police and after paying the bribe we were on our way again. This time it was tougher as we all had to give the bottom step to a mother with her 3 year old daughter. The poor young girl was having a temper-tantrum with such a hot, packed bus so we all gave her some room in hopes that the girl would relax a bit. This meant that I too was completely hanging outside the bus like I was riding a cable car in San Francisco, which I enjoyed, but unfortunately didn’t help to calm the little girl down who continued to throw a fit for the next 45 minutes.

Slowly people departed the bus and about 1.5 hours into the trip I finally got a seat. The views were incredible as we made our way through the highlands of Honduras. Finally we made it to San Marcos at about 5:00pm after a long day of traveling. An elderly gentleman who Em had been talking to during the ride walked us to the pension in town and showed us where to get a cheap dinner.

We eventually got to sleep despite a good deal of noise on the street (I’m also sick again with a bad cold which doesn’t help). Tomorrow: Nicaragua.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:17 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 16, 2005

Touring San Salvador

We woke up and grabbed some breakfast and at 9:30 were back at the hotel to meet with Miguel who was taking us on our tour of the city. After speaking for the first half hour in Spanish we found out that Miguel was a resident of the U.S., had lived there for a year, and was in the process of becoming a citizen. We started speaking in English which was kind of a nice break as we didn’t have to worry about missing anything.

During the day we toured a good deal of San Salvador and the surrounding areas. We got to see the main soccer stadium from a nearby hill, visited a national park called the Puerto de Diablo where we could see all the way to the ocean, sampled pupusas s, a cornmeal, chicharron and queso mixture, in a local restaurant, passed through the suburbs where a growing middle class was visibly thriving, and we again headed into downtown to look at the cathedral.

We talked with Miguel about a variety of subjects: gangs, the civil war with the FMLN, the dollarization of the economy and much more. One interesting discussion we had was when I asked him if the economic growth was only benefiting a certain portion of the population who already were well off. In essence, if people were born into a poor family were they trapped there?

While he acknowledged that of course it was harder to come from a family with scarce resources it definitely could be done. Living proof was his own family. His father had started making money as a young boy selling milk, later working his way up to other products. It wasn’t until he was 19 years old that he bought his first pair of shoes. Miguel himself had grown up in a one bedroom house with his parents, siblings, and often a cousin or two. Their family was now benefiting from a stable and growing economy that El Salvador was providing.

After the tour and back at the hotel, we headed out. Em ended up getting a manicure from a beauty shop across the street, while I had a few beers watching an under-17 World Cup match. We grabbed some dinner and then shortly afterwards called it a night. Tomorrow: Honduras.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:13 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 15, 2005

Wal-Mart in Teotihuacán

In a recent post over at the Wal-Mart Watch website, a leading critic of the retailer, the topic of Wal-Mart’s disregard for historical preservation sites came up. Among the many examples that were listed, one was of the Wal-Mart store built near the Teotihuacán pyramids outside of Mexico City. Specifically, they cited a Knight Ridder article from October 2004 that stated:

Wal-Mart Built Store on Traditional Mayan Grounds. “A Wal-Mart store rising near the 2,000-year-old pyramids of the Teotihuacan Empire has ignited the wrath of Mexican conservationists and nationalists, who say the U.S. retailer is destroying their culture at the foot of one of Mexico’s greatest treasures… Last week, 63 prestigious artists and intellectuals, in a letter published in Mexican newspapers, asked President Vicente Fox to stop the structure. They see it as a battle pitting Mexico’s heritage against encroaching U.S. influence. Wal-Mart is already Mexico’s largest retailer, with 664 stores in 66 cities, with sales of $12 billion.”

In the comment section Kevin Brancato made the point that the Teotihuacán example was overblown. To back up this claim he quoted my travelogue from our trip to the site.

This drew the response of another reader who posted a link to some photos of the pyramids. He claimed the photos “put it in better perspective” and they demonstrated that putting a store within 1 kilometer of the pyramids would clearly “have quite an effect.”

I thought I would take the opportunity to repost some of the photos and my response to the comments.

Here are a few of the photos that were linked to:

And here is my reply:

The photos in the link you provide do not provide a better perspective. The photo on the top right [the first photo in this post], taken from the top of the Pyramid of the Moon, is particularly deceiving as to how close the town of San Juan and various businesses are located.

The photo is taken looking directly down the Avenue of the Dead, a 2 kilometer stretch that will never be developed. If the photo were to be extended to the right you would see rows of small shops about 200 meters from the base of the pyramid that sell everything from clothing to Coca-cola.

Another kilometer past these shops is the town of San Juan de Teotihuacán. In the town, closer to the pyramids than the Wal-Mart, you will find every kind of shop you would expect to find in a small town. There are internet cafes, small grocery shops, pharmacies, and restaurants that line the plaza when you first drive in.

Following the street off the plaza towards the Wal-Mart (it is actually called “Bodega Aurrera”) you’ll see a huge “Elektra” electronics store pained bright red and yellow. Continue another couple blocks and turn to the right and you will find the Wal-Mart, tucked away in what used to be a vacant lot and further away from the pyramids than any of these businesses. A hotel located next door is similar size and color. The only difference is that the hotel has a large sign outside advertising its presence. The Wal-Mart on the other hand is one of the simpler buildings in town and looks more like a small warehouse with a parking lot.

Here is a picture of the store:

Here is a picture of the town (all businesses pictured are closer to the pyramids than the Wal-Mart):

More interesting to me was the reaction of some people we talked to in the town. We were told that the international press wanted to make it sound like the Wal-Mart was going to be put right next to the pyramids when nothing could be further from the truth. According to people we spoke with, the majority of protesters in San Juan were not residents who thought Wal-Mart was destroying culture, but store owners who did not want to face the increased competition.

Anyone that travels to San Juan and sees where the Wal-Mart is located is going to be hard pressed to come to a different conclusion.

Peter Mork in Antigua, Guatemala Monday, September 12 at 04:34 PM

If anyone is interested in reading the full account of our trip to the pyramids it can be found here.

Posted by Peter Mork at 10:11 AM | Comments | TrackBack

Chaotic San Salvador

After breakfast at El Mirador, we checked out of our hotel and caught a bit of the independence day parade in the town square where nuns were barbequeing in front of the church, vendors were selling vegetables, and people were enjoying their plaza. A bit reluctant to leave, we caught a bus and were off to San Salvador. We changed buses in Somoto, where we were joined by a bunch of university students who were on their way to the capital to watch the university team from Somoto compete in the Central American Championships (tonight we found out they won the game 5-2).

Entering the capital city it looked relatively prosperous. There were lots of franchises, everything ranging from Goodyear to fast-food. Once at the bus station we caught a cab with a friendly driver to our hotel near the center of the city. We checked in and decided to immediately get out and explore the center of the city and get a bit to eat.

Heading towards the cathedral in the center of the city it became apparent that San Salvador had one of the largest and most centrally located informal markets we have seen in our travels. Music was blaring from every corner and one plaza, just a block from the cathedral, was completely covered with small informal restaurants. Everything from nail polish to Converse shoes to pineapples to video games was for sale, and it seemed as though the market was slowly swallowing up the streets and sidewalks and surrounding buildings. It was a bit overwhelming.

We found a great little restaurant where we were served up with huge portions of all types of food (cafeteria style) for about $4 a plate. Afterwards we looked without luck for an ATM but all the banks were closed. We made our way back to the hotel and after a stop at a bar where I had some excellent chorizo and a beer we decided to call it a night. Tomorrow we’re taking a tour of the city which we hope will be interesting.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:07 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 14, 2005

The Waterfalls in Juayua

Today we woke up and had breakfast at a nice place on the other side of the plaza called El Mirador. The owner was super friendly and let us take a look at the new edition of the Lonely Planet over breakfast. Her hotel wasn’t listed in our version (we bought ours in 2002) but was featured in the latest version.

We also inquired about getting a guide to head to the waterfalls which had been highly recommended by both the LP guide and Sonia at the hotel. She said that Manuel who worked at the hotel could take us but he was finishing some painting. He came out and introduced himself and we all agreed to meet at one o’clock to head over to the falls.

We came back at one and were shortly off to the falls. Manuel was a great guy and we talked about El Salvador as we made our way. I really was not expecting much, so I was taken aback when we finally made it to the site. There was a large underground river the fed the falls and it was really breathtaking.

It began to rain, but we continued. After the first set of falls we continued down the path to another set of falls, this one with a swimming hole constructed out of concrete directly below. I jumped in for a quick swim in the crisp water, which felt great after the walk. According to Manuel the pools were constructed by a resident of the Juayua years and years ago for the community and to help attract tourists. At least in our case it worked.

Manuel walked us back to the hotel and we said we would probably see him tomorrow when we stopped by for breakfast before the trip to El Salvador. Tonight we made our way to the plaza again where we saw another performance by a local school and decided to stay for the “Liberty Torch” to make its way into town at about 10 o’clock, despite pouring rain. Tonight we came prepared with raincoats so we stayed dry.

When it finally did arrive the scene was a bit like the Olympics as people ran with the torch with a long line of cars and crowds and ambulances with sirens in tow. They lit the lantern in the town plaza and then the huge throng of people were off again, supposedly to the Guatemalan border. It was another fun night and easy to get caught up in the excitement. Tomorrow we are off to San Salvador.

Posted by Peter Mork at 12:03 AM | Comments | TrackBack

September 13, 2005

Crossing the Salvadoran Border

We grabbed a quick breakfast in the morning and then were off in a shuttle to Guatemala City. We dropped off a few people at the airport and then made our way into town to catch a bus. I had called the day before and found a line that could drop us off in Ahuachapan, in northern El Salvador, but when we stopped to drop off Nick, a 22 year-old Australian who was heading to San Salvador, we found out that the bus he was taking could also drop us off so we just jumped on the bus with him.

Leaving the city in the bus took a while but it was fun to get at least a glimpse of Guatemala City. Soon we were in the countryside though and making our way to the border. The whole time we were chatting with Nick, a nice guy from Australia. He had been traveling by himself for 2 and a half months and was halfway done with his trip.

Crossing the border was relatively easy but a tad bit hectic. Exiting the bus for our Guatemalan exit stamp, the bus driver put his fingers to his lips and told us to change money on the El Salvador side of the border as it was “dangerous” in Guatemala. Getting swarmed by currency exchangers as we made our way to immigration a few asked it we wanted colones. Colones have not circulated in El Salvador for years as the economy was dollarized in 2001.

Back on the bus, we drove across the border, which was a bridge over a river, and made our way to the immigration office. We had not changed money yet so luckily Em and I had enough dollars left over from the U.S. to cover both our $10 entry fees as well as Nick’s so none of us had to run out, change some money, and then be at the end of the line.

Outside we changed money. It was bizarre seeing dollars again, but it sure will be a lot easier for us. I asked the money changer if he was scared carrying so much money around. He said not really, although he had been robbed in 1994. Supposedly the police “anterior” had taken something like $3000. I asked if things were better now and he said somewhat.

Fifteen miles into El Salvador the bus pulled off to the side of the road at what was apparently our stop, and Em and I jumped off. The guy who unloaded our bags said a collective would be passing soon and sure enough as the bus was pulling off we saw one approaching. We jumped aboard and I made sure the driver would let us know where to get off for the bus to Juayua. I had the feeling we were really getting off the beaten track when a twelve year old boy couldn’t take his eyes off me in the van. Apparently he was not used to seeing two gringos on this route.

Ten minutes later we were standing at another fork in the road on the outskirts of Ahuachapan. It looked like a fairly prosperous town judging by the appearance of some very clean franchise restaurants. A vendor selling cola gave us some stools to sit down on while we waited and he let us know the bus should pass by shortly.

Before long an old US school bus pulled up and we were off to Juayua. The ride was great, heading through mountains covered with rows of coffee plants, despite there being a somewhat shady character that decided to sit right in front of us. Everyone else was great helping us out. The highlight of the trip for Em was when an 8 week old husky puppy got on for part of the ride with its mom and owners.

We pulled into Juayua in the afternoon and found a great place to stay at Casa de Huespedes Dona Mercedes. We literally had the whole place to ourselves as we were the only guests. We headed out for a bite to eat and had a roast chicken meal as we watched Real Madrid get dominated by Lyon. We had some coffee on the plaza and watched a group of little kids in yellow uniforms following a teacher cross the street. They were on their way to exercise in the plaza.

That night we heard some drumming and made our way out to the street to see a school parade heading to the plaza. It was another event for Independence Day (all of the Central American countries have the same day of independance, September 15). Suddenly, it started to pour rain, and cute little kids were running everywhere for cover. The show went on, however. The highlight of the performances was a group of about ten 5 year old girls dressed as flowers dancing. The low point of the performance was when the principal of the school droned on and on how the Twin Towers didn’t fall on September 11th, 2001, but had fallen long ago when the U.S. turned its back on God.

For the first time, we feel like we are the only foreigners in town. We’ve heard that many people come from the capital on the weekends to enjoy the weekly food fair, but right now we are the only outsiders here.

When we got back to the hotel, Sonia, the owner of the place, said that she saw us on the local television station that was broadcasting the event. Guess we just used up 1 or 2 more minutes of our 15 minutes of fame.

Posted by Peter Mork at 11:57 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 12, 2005

Internet in Antigua

We decided against hiking up the volcano today and instead just had a laid back day in town. After our dollar breakfasts that included eggs, queso fresco, tortillas, beans and a cup of Guatemalan coffee we set out to buy more supplies for the trip and to send a package home. We found a DHL office and while sending off a package of books home I enquired about where the headquarters was located. Turns out that they used to have their main offices in San Francisco, but have since moved them to Germany. That made sense as there was an office in the outskirts of Havana. We also bought tickets to Guatemala City where we will hopefully be catching a bus to El Salvador.

Midday we ran into the group of European girls (one from Spain, one from France, and one from Belgium) who had traveled with us from San Cristobal to Panajachel. They were by far the most linguistically talented group we have me on the trip so far. They work for the EU website writing articles on current events, and between them they spoke 6 different languages. They are also leaving tomorrow but heading in the opposite direction up to Tikal.

The afternoon was spent uploading photos and updating the site which is always fun with a slow connection. We went through 2 internet cafes and many but at least we got some photos and writing up before El Salvador, where we really don’t know what the connections will be like.

For dinner we grabbed some sandwiches and then were off to bed. Tomorrow will be in our 4th country.

Posted by Peter Mork at 11:51 PM | Comments | TrackBack

Leaving La Ruta Maya

Tomorrow we are off to El Salvador. The time in Chiapas, Mexico and Guatemala has flown by. We’ve visited indigenous Mayan villages outside of San Cristóbal, explored Lake Atitlán, checked out the local wares at the market at Chichicastenango, and much more.

We’ve updated our photo site with new images from Oaxaca south to Guatemala. Check out the Blessing of the Animals in Oaxaca.

We will check in soon.

Posted by Peter Mork at 7:59 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 11, 2005

Exploring Antigua

During breakfast, reading a local newspaper, I found a sad story that fortunately has a happy ending. The article chronicled the last three years of the life of a young boy from Guatemala. He and his two sisters were orphaned by their mother years ago. Three years ago, his sisters were adopted by a family from the United States, but he had run away from the orphanage at this point and when he returned he found out that his sisters had left the country. At the age of 9 he decided to set out on foot to find them. During his first attempt, not knowing much about the geography of the world, he headed in the wrong direction and didn't realize that the United States was in the other direction until he was in Honduras. Subsequently, he had to travel back to Guatemala. Over the past 3 years he has been apprehended in Mexico six times and quickly returned to Guatemala. This last week, now 12 years old, he was finally put in touch with his 14-year-old and 9-year-old sisters in the United States after a astute Mexican official decided to give the child some help. It turns out that the family in the U.S., unbeknownst to this young boy, had planned to adopt him with his sisters three years ago, and now will be able to finalize the process which will reunite him with the only family members he knows. I'll try to see if I can find a copy online for people back home to read as it really is inspiring.

After a quick breakfast, and finishing some more of the newspaper, we walked to theParque Central where we were hearing some pounding drums. To our surprise we found the main square filled with young Guatemalans in marching band uniforms. Representing different local schools, the marching bands were performing as part of the Guatemalan Independence celebrations. Hundreds of kids, decked out in different uniforms, playing instruments all at the same time as they marched by the government building was quite a sight to see. We remembered hearing several different school bands practicing (for this event, I guess) when we were in Lake Atitlan.

Next, we headed over to some ruins on the edge of town. The ruins were of a giant colonial cathedral that was built between 1701 and 1707 but was completely destroyed in a huge earthquake in the 1750's. While most of the walls are still intact, the grounds are covered with huge portions of the ceiling. As we took photos of the ruins, a modeling photo-shoot was taking place right next to us.

On the way back to the hotel we stopped to watch part of a soccer match that was being played in a dirt field, with the impressive volcano, Volcan Agua, looming in the background.

After reviewing our last few bank statements we are really trying to cut back on our expenditures. So today we had a cheap lunch, explored around town a bit, and then just caught up on some reading in an internet café. For dinner we splurged and had 6 tacos, instead of three, but it was well worth it. We are in the process of figuring out the best way to make it through El Salvador, where we will be headed in the next few days. It's fast-paced traveling, but we are loving it.

Posted by Peter Mork at 7:48 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 10, 2005

Mental Note: Don’t Swing from Hanging Vines

This morning we woke up early to visit a nature reserve right outside of town before we had to catch the shuttle to Antigua. The reserve was great; we were the only ones there. We hiked around the place for a few hours, during which we were able to cross suspension bridges and see waterfalls, spider monkeys, and a butterfly farm that was also home to an injured hawk. The only bad part about the hike was when I decided to swing from a vine hanging from a tree crossing the pathway. Needless to say it broke, I slipped on a rock, and landed directly in a pool of muddy stagnant water. To remember the moment properly, we’ve got a photo of the stagnant pool.

We caught a little open-aired cab back to our hotel, got a quick bite to eat at a restaurant right next door, said goodbye to our buddy Miguel, and then soon were off to Antigua in the shuttle.

Once in town we found a decent hotel and set off to explore the city. It reminds us of San Cristobal de las Casas in Mexico (in the highlands, terracotta tile roofs, indigenous Mayan influence, cobblestone streets) but has its own feel. Definitely a lot of tourists here; it is more of an established tourist destination than San Cristobal, however you can sense the same dangerous undercurrent as is around Lake Atitlan. Everyone is advised to be accompanied by a tourist policeman when visiting the nearby volcano, the town’s overlook, or the cemetary. Yet all of these things are advertised as popular tourist excursions. We’re probably just going to wander around town for a few days. We had a good dinner and then headed back to the hotel to make plans for the next few days.

Posted by Peter Mork at 7:44 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 9, 2005

Lago de Atitlán

Today, after breakfast chatting with our favorite Guatemalan so far (our fourteen-year-old waiter Miguel), we caught a boat to San Pedro, a town directly across the lake. On the boat we met an adventurous brother and sister from Japan that were traveling through the area. They had just made their way from Cancun through the Yucatan into the north of Guatemala. With limited English and practically no Spanish they had crossed the Mexican-Guatemalan border at a remote and daring location. The sister explained to me how they were both scared to death as they were the only foreigners, and a boat full of guns was being unloaded into Mexico where they were crossing the river border. Being from Japan they said they were not used to seeing guns, which made it all the more terrifying for them. They are basically headed in the same direction as us and will be leaving from Panama City in a month.

San Pedro was a funky little town. A mix of bohemian type foreigners who lived there and locals gave it an interesting feel. I initially wanted to climb the volcano near the town but when I inquired about a guide they said it was too late in the day. Instead we decided to have drinks at a lakeside restaurant and watched a middle-aged German lady in a tiedied shirt lead her horse and five dogs to the lake for a drink. While our waiter was a local, the cook behind the counter was a dread-locked Europpean.

Our outdated Lonely Planet suggested several hikes to neighboring towns, which sounded like a good backup plan. But when we inquired about the trail to Santiago Atitlan we were informed that it was probably too dangerous for us to walk. A kid that sold us some peanuts and cashews told us that he didn’t walk over to Santiago to sell his goods anymore after he himself had been robbed by Santiaganos.

Instead we headed in the other direction to a town called San Juan. It was a pleasant walk where we were greeted by several friendly locals walking in the opposite direction or farming along the side of the road. However, once we reached San Juan, hoping to continue walking on the road to the town of San Marcos to catch the boat home, we were again informed, this time by policemen on a motorcycle, that it was far too dangerous to walk along the road connecting the towns. This violent undercurrent was surprising to us. These are sleepy little towns that are inhabited by quite a few foreigners and have seen tourism for a long time. That even locals selling nuts get mugged is unsettling. It taught us not to trust our lonely planet guide and to get second opinions from locals and other travelers. In fact, maybe we should ween ourselves off of the ubiquitous Lonely Planet.

So to get to San Marcos, we jumped in one van and changed to the bed of a pickup truck to make our way safely into the town. It actually would have been a few-hours walk and was just as interesting riding in the back of the truck with several Mayan women who were making the same journey. I helped them lift the large packages that they carried on their heads into the back of the truck. One of the ladies, who appeared to be over 70 years old, was carrying a very heavy, steaming hot cauldron full of something on her head in this manner. Don’t know how they do it. Once there we explored little San Marcos a bit, listened to the local school’s marching band practice, got chased by some dogs, skirted past the foreign-owned meditation retreats and then caught a boat back to Panajachel.

Back in town we had some dinner, checked the internet, and then called it a night.

Posted by Peter Mork at 7:36 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 8, 2005

The Market at Chichicastenango

We were up early and caught a bus to Chichicastenango to see the big market that is held every Thursday and Sunday. Marcelo and Rosi had described it to us back in Sonora, Mexico. It was about an hour’s drive on windy roads through unbelievable Guatemalan countryside.

The market was quite a social event. Block after block of market stalls sold everything from carefully embroidered traditional Mayan clothing to baby chickens. Near the town plaza was the Iglesia de Santo Tomas which had similarities to the one we saw in San Juan Chamula with lots of candles along the ground, pine needles carpeting the floor and incense.

One of Em’s favorite aspects of the market was that everyone was so busy buying and selling stuff that no one seemed to mind her taking pictures. Head over to the photo site to check them out.

We also made our way up to a small Shrine of Pascual Abaj atop a hill that was about a 20 minute walk from the market. A tourguide trying to get us to pay him to lead the way said it was too dangerous to go alone. Our guide book also warned of robberies. But when we walked to the base of the hill a young Mayan girl laughed when we asked if it was dangerous. She then pointed out an elderly British man who was making his way down the hillside. He also confirmed the walk was fine. We found the shrine without any problems.

Back in Panajachel we had dinner outside our hotel in a restaurant that overlooked the lake. Tomorrow we plan on exploring a few of the other small villages around the lake.

Posted by Peter Mork at 7:33 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 7, 2005

¡Vamos Guate!

The morning started with a bang today. I shut off the alarm when I thought that I had just hit the snooze button and I finally opened my eyes 10 minutes before we were supposed to be at the plaza for the bus to Guatemala.

We miraculously packed all our stuff up, checked out of the hotel, and made it to the plaza in about 15 minutes. When we arrived we were informed that there was a problem. Protesters had blocked the road to Antigua, our final destination, so we had to make a choice. We could either get a full refund and wait it out a day or two until there was news that the road was cleared, or we could instead go to Panajachel, a city 2 hours from Antigua.

It was a no brainer as the night before Bob had told us that Panajachel, located next to lake Atitlan, was a must see and we were planning on backtracking there anyways. Again I thought we might be the only ones on the trip but again to my surprise after a few stops at various hostels the bus was absolutely full, even a third person rode in the middle between the driver and the person in the passenger seat. Eleven backpacks were strapped to the top of the van.

The road was windy so it was tough to read but the views traveling through Southern Mexico and Western Guatemala were unbelievable. Crossing the border was easy enough, we switched vans and had a new driver but it was obvious from the fast crossing that immigration officials were used to backpackers heading through.

After driving all day we finally arrived in Panajachel. Descending towards Lake Atitlan during the last 15 minutes of the journey I knew we had made the right choice. It’s similar to Lake Tahoe except that three volcanoes with 12,000 feet peaks line the rim of the lake.

We found a cheap place near the water. There was a great hotel right across the way, complete with parrots and an 8 week old puppy, that was tough to turn down but we really need to be saving our money. The place we found is just fine and about half the price.

For dinner we headed over to a restaurant up the street. They had a TV and after doing a few errands we came back watch the US play Guatemala in a World Cup qualifying match. It was a tough game to watch over the cries “Vamos Guate!!!” from the other patrons. Guatemala needed a least a tie to keep their World Cup dreams alive, a tournament the country has never qualified for, so both Em and I were pulling for them as the U.S. qualified last week with the win over Mexico. It ended up as a 0-0 tie to the satisfaction of many in the bar. We headed out for one more drink with two guys we met in the restaurant and then called it a night.

Posted by Peter Mork at 7:21 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 6, 2005

Cañon del Sumidero

We woke up early and headed to the town square where we were to catch the shuttle to the Cañon del Sumidero. Naively I thought we might be one of the few people on the trip but the bus ended up full of other backpacking tourists.

After an hour or so of windy roads we reached the river that flowed through the canyon and were soon on a boat. This excursion came into existance when a hydroelectric dam was built in the 70’s, flooding the river and allowing boats to travel up and down the river easily. The lush surroundings have been declared a national park.

It was an impressive journey. There were several crocodiles on the banks of the river, birds, waterfalls, and of course the impressive sheer cliffs that create the canyon. At one point we also had to make our way though a huge backup of driftwood and trash in the river that had collected due to recent rains washing garbage down from the hills. A few men in boats were gathering the trash in bags and hauling it away but they had an enormous task in front of them.

Once back in San Cristobal we made plans to meet Bob, a Londoner who was also on the canyon trip, for dinner. We had a good time drinking a few beers and sharing some traveling stories. Having traveled extensively in Southeast Asia, he gave us some ideas and advice. On this trip, before entering Mexico, he had traveled through the United State’s southwest. In Vegas, he actually won a Texas Hold’em poker tournament at the Sahara. Just as remarkable but much more devestating was his story of being in Phuket, Thailand last December during the tsunami.

Tomorrow it is off to Guatemala so it is our last night in Mexico.

Posted by Peter Mork at 6:54 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 5, 2005

Immigration Office

We started our day at the immigration office in San Cristobal. It was shockingly easy. The immigration official that looked at our cards told us it looked like 90 days to her, and she typed it out on the card so we wouldn’t have any problems at the border. Like I said we left the office 10 minutes after we entered both surprised how painless the experience had been.

The day was now free as we had assumed we would be trapped in the immigration office for a good part of the it. We decided to head to the café where Nicolas worked to catch up on some writing and reading. He was there again and we talked with him and another co-worker about everything from Pemex (the state-owned oil company), to languages, to the Zapatistas between coffees and scribbling down posts for the website.

That night, we headed over to a small movie theater and watched a documentary on the recent Zapatista movement. It really left with me with more questions than it gave me answers. Where the general demands were made clear: justice, liberty, democracy for the indigenous people of Mexico, who do indeed face discrimination, the film was short on specifics. Days later I would read that some of Sub-Comandante Marcos’ more recent, specific goals are to unite the political left to fight neo-liberalism. My message to the indigenous groups would be less Marcos and more De Soto (one of my favorite economists who shows the importance of the combination of justice, liberty, democracy, and property rights), which would be the clearest path to better lives.

Tomorrow we’re off on a boat tour of the Cañon del Sumidero. It should be fun.

Posted by Peter Mork at 6:50 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 4, 2005

San Juan Chamula and San Lorenzo Zinacantan

We woke up and headed to the north end of town to catch a colectivo to the town of Chamula. The driver absolutely packed the VW bus with anyone looking for a ride to the town; kids sat on parents laps; a man sat in the very back of the van with the supplies people were transporting. And soon we were off. On the way I talked Gerardo, a 17 year old resident of Chamula who worked as a carpenter in San Cristobal. We spoke Spanish, but he admitted that he was still learning, as his native language was Tzotzil . He was a friendly guy and gave us some pointers about the area. San Juan Chamula is a gathering place for a Mayan community of 40,000 Tzotzile people.

The market was in the main square where Tzotzil speaking Mayans were gathered around selling various goods. My first impression was that it was clearly one of the poorest places we had seen in Mexico. Most markets we’ve visited vendors have their own stalls, here many people just laid their goods out across the ground. Chickens and dogs roamed the plaza. Children were approaching us more frequently than in other markets, asking for change or if we could buy them sandals as they were barefoot.

We had to buy tickets to visit the Church that sat just off the main square. We had to promise on our lives that we would not take photos inside. The scene was an interesting mix of Catholicism and traditional Mayan religion. Entering the church, there were no pews nor was there a traditional alter; people sat on the floor. The floor itself was covered with pine needles and rows of burning candles, with thick incense in the air. It was a very unique scene, but you’ll have to head to Chamula yourself to get a look.

We walked around the market. A girl and her little sister approached us trying to sell us woven bracelets. We bought one, but they continued to ask “Cinco peeeeessooos. Poooor favooor.” The older girl talked us into buying her barefoot sister a pair of sandals at a nearby stand. As we walked away, they continued to haggle with the sandal seller (another young girl), perhaps trying to sell the sandals back.

After another hour of touring the small market and the surrounding streets talking to people where we could, we caught another colectivo towards San Lorenzo Zinacantan and were dropped off at a fork in the road about halfway back to San Cristobal. It was peaceful waiting alongside the rural road. It took about 20 minutes to catch a cab (all the colectivos passing were full and would not stop to pick us up), but soon we were in the small town of Zinacantan which is in the middle of a beautiful valley. The Tzotzile community of Zinacantan is known for its flower growing, and it was possible to see the greenhouses dotting the valley.

We took a look at inside the town’s church, which was similar to Chamula’s, although from appearances seemed a bit more traditionally Catholic. Upon exiting we decided to accept the invitation of a young girl named Maria Elena to see her family’s textile shop. She was dressed in traditional Mayan clothing specific to the Zinacantan community that we had seen in San Cristobal as well (evidence that they were from this community) as along the road into town: an embroidered black, blue and purple cape with a dark skirt. We followed her down the dirt road and we asked her where she learned her excellent Spanish, as it was not her native language. “In school,” she replied proudly. Her family’s shop was actually an open air patio in front of their home a few blocks away. Her mother and a few other women came out to show us their goods that were all of excellent quality. Em ended up buying a small scarf (she had given away the one she had to a 6 year old girl who was admiring it in Chamula so it worked out well). We were about to head out and explore some more of the town when they invited us into their home to try some corn tortillas. We accepted, and walked through the house to the kitchen, an open-air, covered structure in the back of the house. Soon were watching Maria Elena cook fresh corn tortillas over an open fire, behind her were the family’s corn fields. We sampled the hot tortillas with queso fresco, pepper, and salsa. They were delicious. Her mother sat down to chat with us.

When we were getting ready to leave I offered them some money for the food but they absolutely refused. I persisted a bit, saying we would have had to pay for a meal elsewhere, but the mother continued to say no and even turned to Maria Elena and told her daughter it was her decision. Maria Elena smiled, but also refused, saying it was their treat. We said good-bye, first giving Maria Elena our contact card. We’re not sure if she has access to the internet anywhere, but maybe someday she’ll be able to contact us.

We rode back into town in another collectivo and called it a night after dinner.

Posted by Peter Mork at 6:49 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 3, 2005

USA – 2, Mexico – 0

The day started searching for the post office to buy some stamps and send off some postcards to friends back home. Unfortunately, the lonely planet map was incorrect and put us on the opposite side of town. Eventually we found it though and afterwards headed to a café across the street.

At the café we helped out our waiter, Nicolas, with some Gwen Stephani lyrics he was trying to translate. We made some progress it was tough finding a counterpart in Spanish to the word “Hollaback” since I wasn’t sure what it even meant in English.

Next it was up a switch back trail to take a look at a church that sat atop a hill that overlooked San Cristobal. It was a great view and Em got some pictures of a baby pig on the way up. On the way back down we stopped by a travel agency to make plans to head into Guatemala. Looking at our tourist cards the lady at the front desk thought we should head over to the local immigration office as the number of days we were allowed to travel in Mexico was unclear. It was true. Thanks to the sloppy handwriting of the immigration officer at the airport in Cancun, you couldn’t tell if the number was 20, 30, 80, or 90 days. We had originally asked for 90. If it turned out to be 20 or 30 we would have overstayed our visas and at the minimum would have to pay a fine. The last thing we want to do is to spend all day Monday dealing with immigration officials, or have to pay a steep fine, but I guess it will be better than getting sent back here or to Mexico City from the Guatemalan border if there is a problem.

The Na Bolom museum was interesting. It was actually the former house of a anthropologist/archeologist European couple that had come to San Cristobal in the 40’s and decided to stay to document the way of life of the Lancodon people who lived in the Lancodon Jungle of southeastern Chiapas. The displays did a decent job of portraying the struggle between the desires of some in the community to keep the traditions of old, while others desired more contact with the outside world.

Leaving the museum at about 5:00pm it was still a little too early for the game so we stopped off at another bar/restaurant to get a snack and to kill some time. An hour later, leaving the restaurant, I asked the waiter huddled around the television watching pro-wrestling if they were going to watch the game. “What do you think we are waiting for?” was the reply. I shook my head as they told us Mexico was going to win.

At Café Tuloc the owner wasn’t present but we got a table right in front of the TV. The waiters were glad to see us as we were an excuse to turn the game on in the restaurant. I had to suppress my joy as the U.S. dominated the game. The waiters equally tried to suppress their disappointment. Another patron from San Cristobal left at half-time telling me that he was sure the U.S. was going to win the way Mexico was playing despite the score being 0-0 at the time.

His prediction came true as the U.S. scored twice in the second half to get the victory. Leaving the restaurant I told the disheartened waiters that we would have the rematch in Germany.

Posted by Peter Mork at 6:46 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 2, 2005

San Cristobal

Since our Lonely Planet guide is from 2002, in Oaxaca I looked in a bookstore at the just released edition for Mexico. It recommended a great new hotel in San Cristobal at rock bottom prices. I plugged the name and the number into my cell phone so we’d have a good option when we got into town.

Getting off the bus there was yet another sign that this was a popular backpackers’ destination. As we all stumbled off the bus at 9 in the morning, all the passengers were greeted by a throng of salesmen and women with pictures of their hotels and hostels. We took the a pamphlet for what looked to be a decent hostel, but told the guy we already had a place in mind.

Unfortunately, the number I had didn’t work and the taxi driver had never hear of the place. So we instead headed to the hostel whose information we had just received. After checking the place out we actually decided to stay at a nicer place right across the street with a private bathroom that worked out fine.

After getting settled we headed out to get some breakfast. A few blocks off the main square we found a place called Café Toluc. Em was happy as she got a huge plate of fresh fruit. During the breakfast we talked with the owner who gave us some information about the town, some villages around the outskirts, and he also wanted to make sure we came back for the US v. Mexico game tomorrow. We said we probably would and set out to explore.

We located the street that the colectivos left for San Juan Chamula, a nearby village, and explored the market in the center of town over the next few hours. This was the first city we’ve seen where some of the men and women walking around town are dressed in traditional embroidered clothing alongside others who are dressed just as we are. After making our way back to the hotel and relaxing a bit we had a great dinner at a restaurant called El Fogon de Jovel . I had the parrillada chiapaneco , an assortment of grilled meats, chorizo, vegetables and queso fresco that came sizzling over hot coals. It was one of our favorites of the trip.

After dinner we made it back to the hotel where we were once again horrified by the news coming out of New Orleans on CNN. Truly depressing stuff and it was strange watching it from so far away.

Posted by Peter Mork at 6:31 PM | Comments | TrackBack

September 1, 2005

My Birthday

Today I turned 29. What did we do to celebrate? Play video games and drink beer? Nope, I’m married. We started the day at a botanical garden.

We showed up at 11:00 for the 2 hour plus tour of the botanical garden in Oaxaca that featured flora and fauna from across the state. It was actually very interesting. Oaxaca is one of the most diverse places on the face of the earth for flora and fauna. By the time it got close to 2:00 we had seen a good deal of it.

After the garden we headed over to another plaza on the north end of town and found a good place to have a nice birthday lunch. It was a seafood restaurant that Em had read about and we both had excellent meals and pretty much stuffed ourselves.

For the rest of the afternoon we finished uploading photos at an internet café. We then picked up our bags at the hostel and caught a taxi to the bus station right as a torrential downpour started. By nine we were on the bus and off to San Cristobal. Nearly everyone on the bus were backpackers just like us which was a new experience. Before long the windy road put us to sleep and so ended my 29th b-day.

Posted by Peter Mork at 6:28 PM | Comments | TrackBack

Heading South

Since our last update, we've visited avocado growers in Uruapan, relaxed with friends in Puerto Vallarta, celebrated a wedding back in Guanajuato, hit up the pyramids in Mexico City (and the Wal-Mart "next-door"), and have now made our way south to Oaxaca (photos to be posted soon). Scroll down to read all about it.

I've also put up my last piece on Cuba. It's really a condensed version of my daily notes with some new commentary. Hope you enjoy it.

We have a few more days in Mexico and then we are off to Guatemala . We'll be posting again soon. Thanks for keeping up with our travels.

Posted by Peter Mork at 5:45 PM | Comments | TrackBack