The End

Well, the end is near my friends. I'm heading to the Yucatan Peninsula to spend the time remaining as a beach bum. Left San Cristobal and spent literally 24 hours almost uninterrupted on the bus. I've learned my lesson, should never have got that 2nd class overnight bus to save money. It was uncomfortable, hot, and filthy. Slept through my desired stop in Tulum, woke up in Cancun at the end of the line, grumbled and got back on a bus going the way I had just come. Fun times, thank god I'm now within 2 and a half hours of the airport. I never want to ride a bus again. Have been kind of leaving the camera locked up more often recently, having as I do a strong fear of getting it lost or stolen at the very end after going more than 4 months. So, maybe not as many end-of-the-trip pictures as I'd have liked but it was fun being there, believe me!

Tulum is a laid-back little town, basically a dusty mainroad lined with restaurants, tour outfits, souvenir shops, and accomadations. Found a nice little hostel with a DIY BBQ grill and free transport to the beach. The beach here is incredibly beautiful, uncrowded, and stunning views from the water of Mayan ruins on nearby cliffs overlooking the sea. In 10 years i will probably be as crowded and resort-filled as Cancun, Cozumel, and Playa del Carmen but for now seems secluded and quiet.


Woke up this morning and faced an immediate existential crisis, wondering: Who am I? Where am I? Why am I looking at the back of a naked man who appears to be rubbing lotion onto his ass and thighs? Luckily I recovered fairly quickly, without too much difficulty coming up with: Azad Gaffaney Kamali, born 1981 in Seattle. A hostel in Mexico, I've been travelling. Because Europeans are just weird like that. Satisfied with these answers I rolled over and went back to sleep. So, after splitting a couple bottles of rum, a Mexican, a German, a Spaniard, and an American all walk into a bar clutching fistfuls of coupons for free tequila shots...that's it, if there's a punchline I've forgotten it.


Spent multiple days in a row lazing about with friends at the top-optional (giggity) beach sleeping under palm trees, playing soccer, watching kite-surfers and generally vacationing. Roused myself one morning and went on a little tour of some nearby Cenotes which are freshwater holes-in-the-ground connected to one another by underwater cave systems and featuring cool geological features. Me and two nice fellows from Norway and a pair of wonderful Swiss girls spent the morning riding bikes through the jungle and snorkeling in these awesome caves. Was really quite pretty and definitely nice to swim in cold, fresh water. Spent multiple nights at the hostel cooking up burgers, losing pesos at Texas no-hold-em and sipping beers to try and stay cool in the ungodly heat.








All good things must come to an end, and with only a couple days of trip left I headed to Playa del Carmen, just South of Cancun, for some last minute partying and celebrating of Mexican Independence! This place is crazy! It's full of high-end resorts, the beaches are jam-packed, numbers bolstered by the daily cruise ship disembarkations, every conceivable tourist orientated product is being sold everywhere, and there's bars and clubs on every street. Perfect! I'm no longer backpacking but am now officially vacationing for 2 days! The beachfront is lined with beds for gods' sake! Anywhere that boasts a giant Walmart is no longer off the beaten track. The Independence Day celebrations were wild, seemingly a nonstop street and beach party. Had traveled down to Playa with the Swiss girls and we all went out and had a great time. The beach is also very nice and spent two full days on it, playing beach volleyball and recovering from the celebrations. The mosquitoes seem to know they're running out of time to bite me and consequently are taking every opportunity to drink my obviously sweet blood while they still can.


Alas, it's over and after stocking up on duty free tequila I boarded my plane and headed back to native soil. Fairly uneventful trip except my Guatemalan made duffel bag loaded with presents broke open after I cleared customs and was trying to stuff it full of bottles and I had to tie it together with a rope. Go figure. Am so glad I went on this trip, it really was the experience of a lifetime and I think I'm addicted to traveling now as I already have vague ideas of going to SE Asia at the next available opportunity. Hope everyone enjoyed reading my blog and I can't wait to see everyone. Met so many great people on my travels and very much enjoyed their company. Thanks for the good times!

There's so many Americans everywhere! It's disorienting! It's a bit difficult to remember that toilet paper actually gets flushed down the toilet, and that I don't have to negotiate and quote a lower price when buying things to avoid getting ripped off. I'm sure I'll adjust though. So, once again, good to be back and hope you enjoyed the description and pictures of my trip. -Azi

Viva, Mexico!

Made the border crossing into Mexico to be greeted by a military checkpoint where bored looking young men with machine guns lackadaisically rifled through our bags before waving us on. Arrived in the town of Palenque in the state of Chiapas and found accommodation in a little complex of cabins and hostels right outside the nearby ruins of the same name. My dorm room can only charitably be described as ¨basic¨ but a more honest assessment would be ¨a dark, dingy hole in the wall with basketball sized holes in the netting over the windows rendering them useless in keeping out mosquitoes. Palenque is extremely hot and humid to the point where my sheets felt continually damp and I was constantly covered in a sticky sheen of sweat. Met some nice fellow travelers though and we made our way to the large open air restaurant where seemingly all of the people in the little compound gathered. Had a delicious meal, listened to some great live salsa music and jealously watched as skilled Latin men whirled their companions around. In preparation for an uncomfortable night I partook in the traditional Mexican welcome of multiple tequila shots and was finally persuaded by the German girl who was sharing the dorm and dinner with me to give Salsa dancing a try, secure in the knowledge I´d probably never again see any of the people present. A fire show followed and afterwards we stumbled back to the room where I proceeded to drunkenly persuade, with the help of a stick, a large frog to hop his way on out of the room.

Awoke the next morning with a new collection of mosquito bites and headed to the ruins for some sightseeing. Thought I´d be underwhelmed after seeing Tikal but they were actually very pretty, white limestone buildings shining in the sun among the jungle. Wandered around for a few hours climbing ruins and sweating profusely and then proceeded to a nearby waterfall. It was very impressively massive but really what´s the point if you can´t jump off of it? Joking, that´d be a suicidal proposition as it had rained heavily the previous night (I know because I awoke from dreams of Chinese water torture to find a leak in the ceiling was located directly above my forehead) and the falling water was torrential. It hit the water at the bottom with such force that it apparently pulverized it into its component particles sending mist everywhere and soaking everything within range. There was a path that led behind the waterfall giving us a unique view of it and completing the job of drenching me completely.






Onwards to the falls and pools of Agua Azul where we spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between roasting in the hot sun and swimming in the freezing water. Very relaxing, ate a nice lunch of tamales and corn roasted in the husk and generally lazed about.




Spent another hot night in my primitive shack resolving at first light to make my escape to the town of San Cristobal de las Casas, reputedly mosquito free. Arrived yesterday, winding our way up out of the jungle into mountainous regions with proper pine forests and hillsides dotted by shaggy black goats. The town is another colonial marvel with cobbled streets, beautiful churches and garish,wildly colored shops and restaurants. Hands down my favorite colonial town so far with a great climate, awesome restaurants and clean streets. Found a great hostel with nightly bonfires (it gets seriously chilly at night, I need to buy a sweatshirt) , hot showers and comfortable beds. Such a relief.


Checked out the market today, it´s filled with the usual dizzying array of unidentifiable items, lots of people wandering around with dead unplucked chickens hanging from their hands by the feet and also pre-slaughtered ones with head, feet, body, and internal organs all neatly layed out. Haven´t taken any pictures yet as I need to buy a new memory card for the camera and besides the Maya, who are a large percentage of the areas inhabitants, are notoriously touchy about having their pictures taken. I´ll try to get some good ones though.

Going to hang out here for at least a few days, maybe longer, for some R&R, enjoy the lively nightlife and generally relax and enjoy myself. Also it´s time to start buying souvenirs to take back with me, so if you have any requests now´s the time. I thought a dead chicken or a live piglet would make a nice present for someone but would probably give me troubles at customs, so don´t ask for one. Sorry. Started to do some shopping today but ended up just buying things for myself and was quickly fatigued by the experience. I´ll try again tomorrow I think. I love the elaborate and ornate belt buckles that are popular down here, some the size of dinner plates, and had to purchase a giant silver and gold scorpion one for myself. Awesome! Anyway, gonna head back to the states in few weeks or so. I´ll be sad to leave but happy to go home. I think it´s about time and my bank account seems to be agreeing with me.






Well, I bought my ticket and am flying to Phoenix on Thursday, September 17th to visit AZ friends. Should be fun. So this will probably be one of the last Central America blog updates. Hope you enjoyed them. Still hanging out in San Cristobal, it´s nice to stay in one place awhile, especially such a nice place.

Met a cool Canadian guy named Bud. Too bad we aren´t going in the same direction as we both agreed it would be fun to travel together solely to be able to introduce ourselves as "Azi and Bud." Maybe next time. He´s works on oil rigs, a.k.a. a ¨Roughneck¨ and is an all around fun and decent guy. Had a good time drinking around the fire and checking out salsa bars with him and a couple Australian girls, Jess and Geet. Also met the first American I´d seen in quite some time, a van driving missionary named Chris of an apparently crazy Evangelical variety. He managed to drop the words, ¨The Lord Jesus Christ¨ with that particular intonation of the proselytizer early in our conversation. When I politely and conversationally mentioned I´d run across a few other evangelicals in my travels he somewhat ominously commented that he, ¨hoped they were teaching the right kind of evangelicalism.¨ Yeahhhhhh. He seemed like a fairly decent guy despite all of that but the Aussie girls took a strong and immediate disliking to him and we didn´t spend too much time hanging out with him. He did have a particularly annoying habit of answering any interrogative with, ¨Wherever the Lord leads me/guides me/decides,¨ or some such variation. Thus, ¨So where are you headed next? Got any plans for the day? What are you having for dinner? etc.?¨ all elicited this response. On leaving he asked if he could have my email address to send me Christian spam. I smiled sweetly and said, "of course!¨ while swiftly wracking my brain for an appropriate email address of some acquaintance. So, if I know your email address don´t be too shocked to be receiving missives on saving your eternal soul.

Spent an afternoon taking a boat tour of a nearby canyon with Bud and Geet. It was enjoyable though not spectacular, but certainly a nice way to spend the afternoon. Saw some crocs sunning on the shore, presumably the ones that escaped from the children´s park in Livingston, Guatemala and made their way North on the Underwater Railroad to freedom in Mexico.




Headed out for some sightseeing, shopping, and picture-taking today but the expedition was cut short by the weather. After ascending a hill to a picturesque church and some good aerial views of the city it began to pour torrentially and I was forced to seek shelter and refuge in the church vestibule. I know, I know, that just has to be ironic or something. In thanks I gave some pesos to the donation box to have the church´s electrical system rewired. After waiting for a half-hour in a pew the rain abated somewhat and I made a mad dash for it. It´s amazing how quickly the previously packed main streets had cleared out, leaving behind happily enthusiastic umbrella and rain-slicker salespeople free rein. I inquired about the price of an umbrella to a local kid and he quoted me the equivalent of 10$ for what had to be a 2$ umbrella. I decided to continue hurrying back to the hostel in the rain; cheeky bastard! The town has an ingenious gravitationally based drainage system whereby all the water simply runs downhill in huge rivers through the streets. The few manholes I did come across seemed to actually be contributing to the problem by shooting water upwards. Oh well, will have to try again tomorrow. Tonight features a match between Costa Rica and Mexico which should be exciting, no less due to the 2x1 beer specials apparently mandatory in all bars across town.




Mexico won and I got some, thankfully dry, dry souvenir shopping done the next day even though it was exhausting. Getting everything together today in preparation for a long bus journey to Tulum tomorrow. Going to hang out, read my book, and check out a local subtitled film on the Zapatista movement tonight. Getting close to the end of the trip, it´s been a blast and It´ll be nice to finish out with a week on the beach. Will try to do a last ¨goodbye¨ update before I fly home. -Azi

Ruined

The ruins at Tikal were easily as impressive as I´d been led to believe. After an hour drive through jungle we arrived, were treated to the obligatory signs about no littering, no guns, no hunting, and watch out for the howler monkeys who like to defecate on the heads of tourists from the treetops, and paid the somewhat exorbitant entry fee. Tikal is a vast compound of ruins and temples, some fully restored, some in the process, and some still mostly buried. Gone are the days of full access where you could climb and enter temples at will but there´s still plenty of opportunity to explore and monkey around on your own. I guess part of the reasoning was to preserve the ruins, but I suspect the handful of tourists who managed to fall to their deaths from atop the ruins played a part too. For being so generally short the Maya built the temple steps for seemingly a race of long-legged giants...they must have had some well defined calves. As usual I skipped the guide, preferring instead to sidle up to groups with guides and catch a snippet or two of the history.




















It´s really quite impressive what you can get accomplished with hundreds of years, an absolute ruling theocracy, and a huge supply of slave labor. I´m sure there´s something I could learn from their obvious work ethic but I suppose there´s no motivator like the fear of a not so swift and painful death. It´s hot, humid and buggy out there in the jungle and looking up at these massive structures, many of them built on top of hillsides, I found myself grateful not to have been around to be conscripted in helping to build them. Kind of cool to imagine the swarms of activity, bronzed kings in magnificent headdresses resembling jaguars, holding still-beating human hearts and looking down from ahigh on the masses of peasants bowing reverently. Like I said, I only caught bits and pieces of the history stuff, though I have seen Apocalypto. Seriously though, you really do get a feeling of being in the presence of History, capital H, and it´s hard not to imagine some of the more macabre practices of the Maya when looking at their sacrificial altars. I must say though that it´s kind of annoying that so many people, when faced with these awesome structures rich in history, instead of simply appreciating it feel the inexplicable need to do something inane like carve ¨Jack hearts Lucy¨ into the wall. ¨You think what the Mayans built and passed down to posterity is impressive?! Yeah well look what I can do too!¨Thanks for the contribution assholes.










Spent a quality a5 hours wandering around and on top of the ruins and I believe I saw pretty much all there was to be seen. Stopped for lunch in the ¨Great Plaza¨looking up at the huge Jaguar Temple and had to fight off a few raccoon relative creatures who have lost all fear of humans and were intent on clawing their way into my backpack. All in all it was definitely something I wouldn´t have wanted to miss. I´ll be checking out some ruins in Mexico in the near future, it will be interesting to see how they compare. Well, not much more to say on that, I´ll let the pictures speak for themselves. Off to Mexico tomorrow!

Paradise Found

Made a mad dash through Belize to the tropical island paradise that is Caye Caulker. 6 hours on a 40+ year old bus made for school children remains a painful and ass-numbing experience. I will say it´s nice to again be in a country where the majority of citizens speak English, the first language of most Belizeans. I´d gotten used to the uncommon feeling of being rather tall in comparison to the inhabitants of the regions I´ve been travelling through and this seems to be no longer the case. The somewhat diminutive Maya and other Spanish speakers have given way to what appears to be a population of tall, large, and heavily muscled locals. A lot of the women even have a generous size advantage over me. Oh well, but I did like feeling tall for once! The English spoken is very unique: lilting and musical with a lot of slang and creole words mixed in. When they speak to me it´s relatively easy to understand, but when they´re speaking to each other it might as well be a foreign language for all I can tell.


I understood immediately why this place is such a popular resort destination for rich Americans looking to escape cold winters and beach-less landlocked states. While much of Belize lives on in the unfortunately common Central American world of violence and poverty Caye Caulker and its even more upscale and resorty neighbor Ambergris Caye are sheltered havens for tourists. The nice things are the uncommonly garbage free streets and coastline, the relative safety, friendly locals and that even the stray dogs are well-fed. The bad thing is the fact that everything is incredibly expensive, sometimes not even just by C. American standards. The Caye is a foodie´s paradise and made me instantly wish I was much richer than I am so I could spend a couple weeks here sampling the food from every available restaurant and stand. Everywhere seems to have gourmet menus with lobster drizzled in garlic butter, slow-cooked lamb, exotic seafood in delicious sauces, and a huge variety of other delicious sounding menu items. Everywhere I went I found myself drooling from the smells emanating from restaurants and outdoor grills. The sandy streets of the small town lead to a small little beach and swimming docks, an area known as the cut for the small channel that now separates the island after the most recent earthquake. A great place to relax, read a book and have a beer. If you appear to be in at all of a hurry or really even walk with more than a languorous stroll one of the island´s residents will call out with friendly and mild reproach, ¨Go Slow!¨, the island´s semi-official motto.




The hostel that was recommended to me only had dorms with AC available and I dutifully shelled out the extra four bucks, a decision I was not to regret. The rooms were lovely, my roommates variously nice and cute and I was later to learn the people in the non-AC dorms had the unfortunate experience of being woken by rats scampering through the walls, across the floor and eaves, and even in one case on the bed where said person was trying to sleep. So, yeah. Met some nice British girls and found a place that was doing pub trivia where our team ¨6 Brits and a Yank¨ almost won, and would have if not for the reluctance of some members to bet the full amount of points on the last question. I´m not still bitter though...really, I´m not!


Arranged the next day to go on a snorkeling tour of the nearby reefs on a sailboat. Was a bit disappointed that we did not get to see the manatee, but it was nevertheless awesome. Saw mammoth stingrays and nurse sharks, beautiful coral, magnificent tropical fish, and creepy looking moray eels. Our snorkel guide grabbed a stingray and let us ¨pet¨ it, feeling the mucousy skin while carefully avoiding the stinger. He next managed to snag a good size nurse shark by the tail, wrestled briefly with it, flipped it upside down seemingly rendering it immobile and again let us touch, this time sandpapery skin. Oh to have a good underwater camera. Our captain and assistants were all good-natured, funny and interesting people. One of them a Canadian lady had been a professional power-lifter, canoe racer, construction worker and stripper. Hell of a resume.




After the final snorkeling stop the rum punch was broken out and we began to slowly make our way home. Shipwreck! Haha, the disappointment of not seeing a manatee was quickly replaced by the excitement of running aground on coral. Our now embarrassed and completely mortified captain had been sipping a rum and chatting up one of the girls which apparently left him precious little attention to devote to where the boat was headed. After some frantic and futile backpedaling with the small outboard motor and various shifting of the passengers to extremities of the boat, tilting it at an alarming angle in some cases, we seemed well and truly stuck. Eventually I along with a few others were tossed overboard with our snorkel gear to lighten the load and try to free us. With my mask on I watched as the crew mightily pushed on the boat from the water, finally smashing off a huge chunk or 3 of coral and freeing us. Oh, the irony! We had been given a serious lecture on how precious and fragile the coral ecosystem was and how we should avoid at all costs even standing on it with flippers or in any way endangering it. Now I had witnessed our eco-friendly tour boat rip a massive chunk of it out of the reef. Not cool. On the plus side the delay gave unintentionally turned the tour into one featuring magnificent views of the sunset. Silver lining, etc.

An embarrassed Captain Willie





A few more nights of drinking, good eating, reggae, and lots of funny Brits, Scots and Irish and I decided my budget demanded a speedy exit from Belize. I´m now in the Guatemalan town of Flores near to Tikal where I will be going tomorrow. Can´t wait, it should be really good. Will post pictures of it when I can, probably from Mexico, my next stop. Getting closer to my homecoming, can´t wait to see everyone! -Azi

Livingston, I Presume

Made my way up the river to the Caribbean seaside town of Livingston. Home to a fascinating mix of Garifuna (cultural group derived from West African slave-descendants), Maya and Spanish-speaking Guatemalans. Place has got a very cool laid-back vibe, but it´s set to that backdrop of slight seediness and and that subtle scent of lazy lawlessness that seems somewhat common to the Caribbean port towns I´ve been to and is undoubtedly what made them such popular haunts of the pirates of yore. Though no actual pirates were in evidence, our arrival at the dock was predictably marked by the loud calls of the local hustlers promising to lead you to a good hotel, carry your bag or in any other way ¨help you¨ regardless of whether that help is actually desired. Had heard a lot of good things about Casa de Iguanas and upon learning the only available accommodation there was a hammock decided I could bear it for the night. The owner has adopted and hand-raised an orphaned raccoon. As anyone who has traveled in Central America knows: sleeping outside in a hammock in a hot, humid, and mosquito ridden coastal town with the jungle looming over you requires certain preparations. Chief among these is drinking enough alcohol to elevate your blood alcohol enough to discourage the mosquitoes from mistaking you for anything from which it could possibly be safe to drink blood to feed unborn mosquito children. Liberal amounts of deet containing substance smeared over exposed skin is also a good idea. All very scientific I assure you. In addition, upon learning of my predicament a young local, whom I assumed was a traditional medicine man, offered me a packet of herbs with the understanding they could be used to assist sleeping. The hostel staff were young, funny and party-oriented guys and I awoke the next morning having slept but somehow feeling not at all rested.






A quick boat ride to some nearby waterfalls, guarded by an old man watching over an elaborate and incense clouded shrine to Bob Marley, provided the necessary refreshing swim to wake me fully up and yet another opportunity to jump off of something into water. We were next transported to a boat-accessible only private white sand beach to spend the afternoon relaxing. Played some volleyball with the locals, but as the net only came up to my head I found it a bit unsporting to be able to spike the ball at my much shorter opponents without having to even jump. We quickly switched to futbol and after an hour running around in the sand on a hot beach I recuperated by swimming, lying on the beach, reading my book, and watching a large group of French frolic. Tough life.





Smoky shrine to Bob Marley







The town is quite charming, with drumming and vaguely African sounding rhythms competing at odd hours against the more typical Latin music heard throughout the rest of the region. The city planners also had the commendable foresight to place a large open air crocodile pit in the middle of the children´s park. Two foot walls protect the children from an unobstructed four foot drop down into a small holding cell for a pair of giant crocodiles, one of whom I was informed carries the name ¨Kunya Kinte.¨ There are spaces for four crocodiles but apparently the other two managed a daring escape into the river while their cells were being cleaned out. Went out at night, despite somewhat dire warnings about a series of tourist robberies at knife-point the previous weekend, to check out the local Garifuna music. Extremely passionate drumming and maraca rhythms accompany singing/chanting and the highlight for me: the guy playing an instrument constructed from tortoise shells, of which I have semi-clear recollections of seeing in various cartoons throughout childhood.





Wonder what happens when the ball accidentally goes in the pit...

The British hostel owner, Rusty, offered me a job working at the hostel, which I´m sure would have been entertaining, but I declined. For one it´s just too hot to do anything during the day and nights aren´t much better. Plus I´m starting to think about home more and more and want to continue on my journey towards its eventual finish. Finally one of the other staff has recently contracted dengue fever which I didn´t find all that encouraging towards semi long-term employment in the area.

The direct boat to Belize apparently only runs twice a week and I´ll be hanging out here till Friday when I leave for Belize. Just gonna relax, sip rum on the beach, read my book and generally enjoy the tranquilo atmosphere of the place. Looking forward to Belize, will keep you updated! -Azi