Bar Intima Bar

A few weekends ago I found myself in a small bar in Mexico. After two weeks of working in the hills of Arizona, I awoke on a weekend morning in Tucson and decided to skip town for a while. I had no plans, just that I wanted to see something other than downtown skylines and freeways. Although I had a pretty good idea that Tombstone, Arizona would be a cheesey tourist trap, I decided to head there anyway. I arrived in Tombstone early in the morning, and sure enough, the cheese was flowing in full scale down Allen Street. I walked the town for an hour or so, hoping to see some genuine sites and get a feel for what the town was like 130 years ago, and jumped back in the car. I looked at the map and noticed that Mexico was only about 45 minutes away, so I decided, "Why not drive into Old Mexico and cruise around for a day?"



daven-7-31-07 tagged map by user - Tagzania

I crossed over in a small border town in the state of Sonora in which the border patrol did not ask for any identification or intentions. All they wanted to know was whether or not I had any guns. I told them no, I had no guns, and they let me continue southward. About a mile outside of the town, near no buildings other than a small makeshift Catholic worship site, a man stepped into the middle of the road. The man was not wearing an official uniform, nor was he bearing anything indicative of being a government or security official. He was wearing blue jeans and a green fleece, and in his right hand he waved a high powered assault rifle as though it were weightless and wasn't able to distribute lethal bullets with an accidental slip of the finger. My immediate thought was, "Ahhhh crap! I'm going to get my car stolen at gunpoint in Mexico! This was a stupid idea!" I rolled up next to the man, and he asked me very quickly in Spanish how I was doing and where I was going. Although I had no plans for the day other than driving around Mexico, I had to give him some answer. Very nervously I told him, "Quiero viajar a Agua Prieta..." (I want to travel to Agua Prieta). He then smiled, dropped the barrel of his gun to the ground, and said, "Agua Prieta? Bueno! Viaja buena!" And let me pass on through.

I spent the following several hours driving around on small backroads in Sonora until I finally decided to head to Agua Prieta. Once I arrived in town, I wandered around the streets for a while. Close to the border in town, I found only taco stands, trinket stands, and discount pharmacies. I walked past these and further into town until I found myself standing in front of a weathered gray building with a sign reading: Bar Intima Bar. Although I was alone and a few miles into the town, I figured, "Well, I better go in and grab a Tecate," and pushed the door open. Considering it was only early in the afternoon, I assumed the bar would be empty. However, immediately after I entered the bar, I was greeted by 15 or 20 pairs of locals' eyes staring at the only gringo in their bar. Hesitantly, I made my way towards the bar to order a beverage, when I heard: "GRINGO! Come sit with me!" I looked in the direction of the voice and noticed a fairly drunk middle aged woman sitting in the middle of a few guys. I ended up sitting down with them (the drunk lady and her boyfriends), and they bought a Tecate for me. I returned the favor, and after two beers and our conversations in broken Spanish and broken English, the entire bar was shouting friendly sayings to me and calling me "David." After another beer, it seemed as though I was one of their pals as they then referred to me as "David, my good friend."

One of the locals I spoke with in the bar was fluently bilingual. I managed to learn from him that only three days prior to my presence in the bar, the sheriff of Agua Prieta was gunned down and murdered near the front steps of Bar Intima Bar. I must have been visibly nervous after I heard this bit of information, because another man immediately slid next to me and assured me that "Agua Prieta really is the safe town." Later in the afternoon I discovered that this man was the chief of police of Agua Prieta... And despite his official legal status in town, the chief of police's drinking friend came to me and in English said, "If you need anything-- weed, cocaine, women, just let me know..."

After a few hours of broken conversation along with the translational help of a few bilingual folks in the bar, I decided to leave. I had had three or four Tecates and was ready to leave when the chief of police demanded that he buy me another beer. I said no thanks, said my goodbyes, and headed for the door. He stood up and said, "David, I will not arrest you if you drive and drink. But I will arrest you if you leave this bar!" Not knowing if he was serious or not, and not wanting to spend any amount of time in a foreign jail, I looked around the bar for some kind of help. A few seconds passed, and then everyone burst into laughter. They let me know that he was joking and wished their good friend David safe travels.

I laughed, said my goodbyes again, pushed the door open, and headed for the nearest taco stand.

Drifting through Thai time

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity. -Gilda Radner
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. -John Lennon
There are a number of enticing prospects on the horizon just now. Several women worth knowing better, professional prospects to pursue.... I have even been offered a free doctoral degree (which would take the next two years of my weekends to complete), followed by the position of Dean of International Students.
However, I am content to move slowly, in a conscious drifting. An inner voice is cautioning not to forego present happiness in exchange for mental apparitions of anticipated future happiness. Or, in much simpler terms, for now it seems best to appreciate each day and trust life's unfolding.
After working in this Thai university for 2 and a half months, the school term is now over. Can you believe that? Two and a half month's work followed by three months off with pay! Someone should have tipped me to this phenomena years ago.
I do have some projects on the burner to keep me busy. In addition to my regular teaching duties (and at about 5x the salary), I have been instructing M.A. and Ph.D. classes on the weekends. This will continue throughout the break.
Also, the graduate department of the university is attempting to create their own standardized English proficiency test and I'm on the ground floor of that ambitious endeavor.
In addition, I'm helping to construct a 12-week English course for executives.
Then there are the short-term assignments that come my way. Last week I wrote an article for a public administration journal, and developed a pre-enrollment listening-speaking exam for the university. This week I'm writing a unit for an English textbook. In another month I'll be conducting a two-week English camp for an elementary school, followed by a five-day English camp for graduate students.
I'm also tutoring four women from a nearby town on a weekly basis.
Work aside, I've moved into a new home! While my former roommate was a nice enough Thai man, I decided that I wanted a space of my own. After spending the day interacting with a different language and culture, it's nice to have a private sanctuary. Although, in truth, even in the States this would be my preference. Maybe I'm just a sanctuary kinda guy.
The new house is next to the 'worker's village,' also located on campus, and I enjoy the proximity. My dwelling is two stories, and basically backs up against a rather large jungle. There were a couple of lizards living in (or at least frequenting on a regular basis) my bathroom. If I opened the door suddenly, I would see them scurrying up the wall and back into the ceiling. Now these aren't the type of lizards that eat flies. These are the kind that eat puppies. The smaller of the two was as large as my forearm, tail excluded. Still, I wouldn't have minded their presence if I hadn't had their droppings to contend with on a daily basis. Imagine cleaning up after a pigeon, but one that was about ten fet tall. Anyway, I bought some chicken wire and blocked their access to my toilet. If bears can do it in the woods, then lizards can do it in the jungle.
Speaking of which, I was teaching a class last Saturday from 4 to 7pm. At 5:30 my phone rang, and I turned it off (I don't answer the phone while I'm teaching). At the end of the class, I turned it back on and there was also a text message: YOUR HOUSE IS BURNING.
It's always something, isn't it? As it turns out, the jungle behind my house had caught fire, and burned all the way up to my building. Somehow (and I don't know how), the structure didn't catch. Ashes came in through the cracks, and it still smells like a campfire inside. But all is well.
I purchased a tv, to expand my entertainment options. A new dvd goes for under three dollars, and that includes the just released movies still playing in the theatres.
Next Monday I'm off to the beach with 16 Chinese students who are here on a three-month exchange program.
Next month I'm heading north to Chiang Rai for a five-day meditation course. Chiang Rai is part of the infamous Golden Triangle, and going there to meditate seems a bit like going to a temple for a heroin score. I'm looking forward to the adventure.
This is just a nutshell of my present time-space world. Everyday has its moments. The percentage of Thai women that are beautiful seems to defy the laws of probability. And a genuine Thai smile hits your eyes and doesn't stop until it reaches your heart. Also, while it may be environmentally unsound, I'm enjoying the chance to drink coke from a glass bottle.
But now I would like to end this entry on a less trivial note. There's been a lot of birth and death in my life recently, or at least in the lives of friends. I contemplated that as a topic for this blog, but I was more inclined to experience the process rather than expound upon it.
...when we finally know we are dying, and all other sentient beings are dying with us, we start to have a burning, almost heartbreaking sense of the fragility and preciousness of each moment and each being, and from this can grow a deep, clear, limitless compassion for all beings. -Sogyal Rinpoche
In particular, I lost a close friend to cancer. Those of you who know me, most likely know of Paul as my companion on two lengthy Alaskan expeditions. I won't eulogize, but I did want to say that his absence is tangible, and that his presence in my life will be missed.
This one's for you, Paul. Happy trails....
Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseperable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life. -John Muir
draft

Iditarod 2007

According to legend, the word "Iditarod" means "a distant or far off place." Begee first became interested in the Last Great Race, known as the Iditarod, the 1100-mile dogsled race from Anchorage (ceremonial start) to Nome, his first summer in Alaska when he saw a dog team in Denali National Park. He's followed the Iditarod every winter, getting updates online when we were in Utah, reading about it in the newspaper when we were in Florida, and boring Erin to death with the standings when we were in California. She was never so interested. It was a far off place, indeed.

Two of our highlights this past summer in Seward, where the original Iditarod Trail began, included the opportunity to go dogsledding ourselves. First we went at Iditaride, the kennel run by Mitch Seavey, who won the Last Great Race in 2004. It was a trip through the woods on sleds with wheels, but it still sparked our imaginations. Then we went via helicopter to the Godwin Glacier and were pulled by a dog team in the snow, which was slightly more realistic. Erin became more interested in the sport, especially after she got to play with the puppies.

One of the reasons we decided to stay for the winter in Alaska was the opportunity to watch the start of the Iditarod in person. The Iditarod is the most important sporting event in Alaska, and its tradition is based on the spirit of dog teams, which were once the only way to travel throughout the state in the winter. The race brings out all Alaskans, from volunteers in Anchorage at the start, to communities all along the trail, where people come out to meet the mushers and dogs. The Iditarod carries Alaska's heart and soul, combining its past with its future to unite Alaskans young and old.

First, we went to the Millenium Hotel, the official Iditarod Headquarters, for a booksigning. At the booksigning, we met Hobo Jim, Alaska's Balladeer, Gary Paulsen, Iditarod musher and famed writer (Erin read "Hatchet" in 8th grade, and Begee has read his book "Winterdance" and loved it), Lisa Frederic, who wrote a book about running with champions, and Gay Salisbury, who wrote a book Begee has been hunting down since August, "The Cruelest Miles" about the original serum run that became the inspiration for the Iditarod race.

Then, on Saturday morning, March 3rd, at about 9:00 am, we stood in anticipation. It was a balmy 7 degrees with windchills predicted at around -15 degrees. We were prepared. Begee had on 3 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, a big Carhartt coat, a hat, and gloves. Erin had on 2 pairs of socks, 3 pairs of pants (including snow pants on loan from her boss!), 4 shirts, a fleece, a coat, a hat, a scarf, and 2 pairs of gloves. We also had Egg McMuffins - the most important part (not available in Seward)! We stood at 4th and B Streets in downtown Anchorage and watched all the mushers and dogteams prepare to start. Early favorites were Lance Mackey, whose father and brother had both won on their 6th Iditarod try with bib number 13, and it was now his 6th try, and he'd camped out for days to get bib number 13, Dee Dee Jonrowe, local Anchorage favorite, Jeff King, last year's champion, and Mitch Seavey, Seward musher.

The first dog team out of the gates was led by Susan Butcher's family. Susan was a famous Alaskan musher who had recently lost her battle with cancer, and the state had proclaimed March 3rd as Susan Butcher Day. We watched each team come to the start, we counted back from 10, and we cheered them on their way. Each team took our well wishes and our dreams along with them on the journey to Nome.

Iditarod 2007

As we watched Lance Mackey, lucky number 13, start the race, we knew he would win it - a Cinderella story come to life in the Last Frontier. We spent the next nine days watching the updates as much as possible, Erin now just as excited as Begee, and looking online when we could to get the up-to-the-minute reports. We saw Lance Mackey lead his way into Iditarod history by winning the Iditarod after the Yukon Quest (the 1000 mile race from Whitehorse, Canada to Fairbanks, Alaska), a couple weeks before. We cheered as we saw him come into Nome first on live tv. He won - just like his dad and his brother, number 13, on his 6th try - a real dream come true! Watching a jubilant Mackey, we felt happy to be able to share this moment with him and with the state.

After a long, cold winter in Alaska, getting caught up in the excitement of the Iditarod was one way to warm our hearts, if not our bodies (it was -30 with windchill today!). Now that it has ended, spring must be on the way (at least that's what we're telling ourselves - it is still Alaska with its 9 month winters). The sun is coming back (and Daylight Saving Time has actually tricked us into feeling like maybe it's warm outside when we see it), though - small steps.

Next up: Erin will be running the Mayor's Cup Dogsledding Race, which is a fun event in Seward for local businesses. Each business submits a racer with absolutely no experience to run with a team of 3 dogs with the big goal of trying not to embarass him or herself. It will be a good way to come full circle with our own personal call of the wild, and it will be a good way to say goodbye to our Alaskan winter. Erin is most excited to see the puppies!

Caribbean adventure ended up in Panama

In December last year we got a dream to sail the Caribbean Islands. We were lucky and found a trimaran with an English captain, and thus got from Mexico to the first Caribbean island - Cuba. Unfortunately, short before getting there this sailing boat broke down and the captain brought it alone over to Key West (Florida, US) for repairs.

We had 5 weeks of getting to know Cuba, its people, culture and limited freedom system. Traveling for foreigners is also limited. The Cuban system forces tourists to stay only in paid accommodation. Theoretically, camping is forbidden, unless you will get a permission from the immigration office (which is unlikely). But we did camp in the bushes. Was a little bit stressy, as we always had to walk far out of the towns and wait for the sunset. We did not want anybody to know where we are.

During five weeks one of the main activities was to search for another sailing boat, which would bring us OUT of Cuba. Yes, we wanted to escape Cuba. Not beecause of the people or experiences. This part we liked very much. The problem was that it is extremely difficult to travel low-budget, as we do normally - hitch-hike, sleep in a tent and cook for ourselves. Let's not be pessimistic: low-budget is possible in Cuba. We gathered several tips and tricks how to do that and have published them on our http://www.followtheroad.com/ website.

Back to the boats. We checked 4 marinas on the Southern coast of Cuba. Finally, we spent 2 weeks in Cienfuegos, as in that marina time to time arrive yachts that leave to Jamaica or other Caribbean islands. Cienfuegos marina is an international-exit point for the sailing vessels. Many boats were heading towards Mexico or neighbouring countries. After chating with different boats, we found out that current and wind are the enemies of the ones heading East, towards other islands.

After checking marina one week long. having no potential boats heading towards other Caribbean islands, we got ourselves to consider heading back to Central America. Actually, there was one luxury yacht sailing towards a couple of other Caribbean islands in the East in the middle of March, but it was an expensive charter boat http://www.wildtigris.com/, and we were not sure we would feel comfortable having no experience and working together with a professional paid crew.

The 12th of February was a lucky day. We met a French couple with "Cheeca-Bey" 44 feet yacht almost ready to leave to Panama. They agreed to give us a lift and one week later we were officially registered as a crew of the boat. Before heading to Panama, we stayed a couple of days in Cayo Largo island of Cuba. This place is designed only for tourists, life of locals does not exists, no markets, no bakery, nothing.

The non-stop sailing to Panama took us 6 days, meaning 144 hours at sea with no ships, no other islands, no birds or any other living creatures. Only wavy sea and sunset in the evening. Well, once we were only 30 nautical miles away from Cayman Islands, but the captain was not interested in this destination. We do not want to generalize saying sailing was boring, but for us it was. One of the reasons - it was our first real sailing and our bodies were searching for a balance for several days. The only thing we could do was sleeping, eating or sitting outside and watching the sea. As soon as we started reading or doing similar activities, the stomach tried to call our throat for duel. We were getting feelings of being sick. In the end of the trip we felt that we are feeling every day better, making it possible to read or work on the computer. In all, we were happy having got to experience REAL sailing. We think that next time we come aboard, it will be easier. Our bodies will meet known conditions and adjustment to the sailing in-balance will happen quicker.

Today we are in Panama City. This city was in recent history very much influenced by the US. As always, we are not sure where our destiny brings us next. We would like to jump into South America, but before we are thinking to make a short, 1-2 months tour, through Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador. Afterwards we might go back to Panama and look for a boat willing to give us a ride to Colombia or Ecuador.