Roadtrip with Matthieu Carlier: Morelia

05/05/08
We got up and left Guadalajara. It was a nice drive to Morelia but I was cashed by the time we got there having drove close to 20 hours in the past 3 days. Morelia has a very ugly outer city and Matt and I thought we'd only want to stay for a day, but when we discovered the city center we quickly changed our minds. We started at the cathedral and walked several blocks. We stopped on a park bench in the center to watch people pass. Matt noted, "Look at them. They're women and they're with children." We waited outside the cathedral to read and wait for Violetta, our host. She showed us around some more and we went to a fancy bar. As soon as we were alone Matt began telling me how much he loved her.

06/05/08
We woke up and Matt took another cold shower. It seems hot water is a luxury in Mexico. When he got out and dried off, he started itching his back which was irritated from sunburn. He kept complaining, and being extremely over dramatic - as is his fashion. "How can I go out or do anythign with this?" He kept scratching his back, ripping his clothes off, slamming doors, grabbing at his back, dancing in his underwear and wasting almost all of Violetta's lotion while I lied on the ground laughing and snapping pictures. We went to the grocery store for breakfast of doughnuts, bananas, and orchata then went downtown. We went to a museum with amazing engravings and woodprints. I snuck a few pictures while Matt distracted the gaurd.
We met up with Violetta after she got out of school at Casa de Cultura and went out to eat. Then we went to a market with dulces and artenesanias. We drove to another area west of the center so Violetta could go to her grandpa's house. After she left, Matt and I were exploring a park when Matt announced he had to pee and wondered down a main street. I saw him standing behind a car "making art with his prick" on the corner just as a cop was pulling down the adjacent street on a motorcycle. He began yelling that he was going to arrest Matt and he didn't care that people in France pee all up and down every street, because this is Mexico and people here don't do that (Yes, they do!). When I wondered up to see what was going on, the cop asked me, "Quieres ir con tu amigo?". I answered yes, not paying attention, I thought he had asked if I was with him. He had asked if I wanted to go with him, to jail. After a $35 bribe (Yes, that's $3.50 dollars) Matt and I were walking away with nothing more than a relatively cheap story. Matt complained of the cops, "I hate it. You have to fear the cops as much as the criminals. These cops rob me more than any criminal in my life.""
We walked to a nearby university with an alluring campus and decided to enter to read and maybe meet some students. We were the only white people and clearly didn't belong, so everyone had a strong reaction towards us one way or the other. The girls all seemed to take notice and the ones who didn't Matt complained, "I'm tired of all these girls pretending that they are not interested by me." He is genuinely cocky and I felt quite confident with him. "Look at them all. They can't help to look and admire us because we are so attractive and different," he'd say dead-seriously. The women on campus were all big-eyed and smiles. The guys were all defensive scowls. We left feeling like rockstars with Matt constantly pumping us up with lines like: "It's so fun to walk in this beautiful city and attract girls."
We met back up with Violetta and went to a pop art museum with a portrait photo exhibit of a collection of people who live on one of the most crime-ridden streets of Mexico City. Violetta took us to eat in a church basement which had a school cafeteria feel to it, but the food was good and cheap and the eight busboys couldn't take their eyes off my digital camera and lucha libre photos.
That night Violetta took us out to the highest altitude bar in Morelia located on top of the mountain. It was closed, so we continued on to a park with a view overlooking the city. The park was closed and gated, but we were hungry for adventure and felt they had no right to keep us out of the public park. Matt went to the left and I went to the right. I ducked under some barbed wire, went to the end of the fence and found a place we could swing around into the park. I went back to get Matt and Violetta. We were so excited and crazy with the view of the city and the lights in the night. We had the park to ourselves. We were running around. I was taking pictures of everything. We sat on the far edge of the park and took in the view. Violetta turned around facing the park, "Oh!". I turned and there's a security guard standing five feet behind us. He appeared without making any noise and we had no idea how long he had been standing there. He was wearing all black, including a black hat, and black tinted sunglasses and stood with his arms folded over his chest just under his square jaw and ultra-stern expression. He seems to take it as a personal insult that we would dare break into his park. He calls the cops. Three show up: a big, quiet guy, a buff woman, and a little guy who does all the negotiating. They are much more jovial about the whole thing than the security guard had been.
The little guy leader takes the three of us aside and runs us through the routine. First, he scares us, threatening that since Matt and I are foreigners we have to be treated differently - taken to customs. After letting this thought sit for a while, he begins joking with us. Calls me Jesus Cristo Superestrella. This whole time, the other two cops are gawking at the view, taking their phones out and snapping pictures - the same thing that got us in all this trouble. The leader suggests that there may be an easier way to handle this. He says they are hungry and could settle for some money for dinner. But they're really hungry. Just look at the big guy. He can eat a lot. We give them $200 and the female cop is practicing her English on me and they invite us out for drinks. The leader's been eying Violetta this whole time. We pass. They walk us to the front of the park, get in their car. Peel out backwards, up the hill while screaming like George of the Jungle on the loudspeaker. None of us can believe what just happened. We celebrated our victory at a lame sports bar.

Roadtrip with Matthieu Carlier: Playa de Manzanilla

02/05/08
So the people we were surfing with in Guadalajara had a 3 day weekend and were planning a trip to the beach. They had invited Matt and I to tag along, so a total of 14 people left from Guadalajara to Manzanilla Beach between my car and a Nissan pick up. It was an interesting mixture of people: one American, two French, two Australian chicks, two German chicks, and the rest were Mexican including a one year old baby. We drove through desserts, mountains, taquila bushes, and small towns stopping every 30-45 minutes to rotate people out of the baking truck bed into my car. We got to the beach at 6:45, but they told us we couldn't camp there because crocodiles were loose on the beach. We all got out to look at the crocodile and moved down the beach like a mile to another site.
We found a beach front campsite where we could camp for free. We pitched our tents and checked out the area. The men began gathering coconuts from the trees, which is more difficult than it sounds. Some of the guys attempted to climb the trees and pull them down. Orlando and I took huge logs and tried to poke them out, but it was cumbersome and we cut up our wrists. Sadey and I threw other coconuts up to knock out the fresh ones. Then Sadey tied a rope to a coconut to try to throw it over a bunch and pull them down, but he couldn't tie it on the coconut. I found an empty 2 liter and filled it with water, tied the rope, and threw it up over the bunch. It was hard, but it worked. Meanwhile, the girls were at town to buy items for a fish taco dinner. A few of us swam in the ocean, but most of the Mexicans didn't because it was la ispuma roja. Which is what they call it when the water has a red tint. They say it is a cleaning phase in the ocean where bacteria kills everything and washes it ashore.
We started a bonfire and cooked fish tacos and rice. After eating, we stayed up talking. They cut open the coconuts and drank the milk, mixing in rum with a few. Then slept in our tents.

03/05/08
We got up and swam again. This time the water had yellow foam. We had lunch of more fish, fresh fruits, and coconut. We swam more and had another bonfire and loved the beach.

04/05/08
We swam in clean water. Then walked to town and got banana shakes in bags. The crazy guy who was tending our camping site kicked us out a few times, but we weren't ready to drive back as half of the people had to ride under the sun in the back of the pickup. So we packed up and went to a small, dirty beach to kill some hours. A lot of us wanted to go straight home, but went to the other beach to keep the unity of the group. We were tired and angry and the beach was ugly and dirty. The 2 Australians: Emma and Juliet and Matt and I found a cheap restaurant with beachside seating and ordered tacos and drinks. Our mood drastically changed with the food. I got super high on life and kept telling everyone how much the trip meant to me and how I loved them and these were the moments that we'd never forget. Matt and I began a show off competition for Emma's love. I did a bunch of somersaults in the sand, got disoriented, and fell on top of a chubby Mexican and his sandcastle. He said he was ok, I talked with him and helped him build another, better sandcastle. Matt and I swam in a chlorinated pool to clean off a bit, Party Boy danced and we drove back to Guadalajara. On the way home Matt told me stories from his time in France when he organized a student protest to completely block of the school. This resulted in him getting beaten by the police to the point where he needed to get stitches.

Roadtrip with Matthieu Carlier: Guadalajara

30/04/08
I woke up with a fly buzzing in my ear and landing on my nose. Matt and I got up, said our goodbyes, and left at noon for Guadalajara. It took 5 hours to get to Guadalajara. Mostly an easy drive with maybe 2 hours of winding, slow mountain driving. We found our couchsurfer's house Orlando, but he was at work. He lives in a commune house setting. Similar to a dorm for grown ups. There are 6 rooms spread along the perimeter of a community outdoor area, living room, and kitchen. Everyone hangs out together and takes turns cooking and cleaning. We unloaded our stuff in Orlando's room and walked downtown. We went to an art museum, a million plazas with fountains and palaces. We settled in a plaza with a live mariachi band playing on stage in front of a huge crowd. Interestingly, mariachi bands and much of Mexican traditional culture originated in Guadalajara. We ate, found some street performers, and watched some kids playing music and dancing Capoiera. We got home at 11 and hung out with Orlando and the other roommates. There were like 8 people over. I met Ruth who rents out one of the rooms for an art studio. She's kinda really cute and funny. She told me what I should see in Guadalajara. She's super sick and has a bad cough, so we walked to Oxxo to get mango juice and talked for a while.

05/01/08
We woke up and went to a marketplace with crazy fruits called Yakas an the cheapest, gross tacos ever (5 for $10). I got two orders and a huge orchata for $10 more. We explored more and found another huge market where everyone sells the same things: guitars, leather crocodile shoes, panchos, perfumes, and food. We wondered some more and found a plaza and stopped to read at a shady bench. Found a bookstore and matt convinced me to buy 100 Years of Solitude in Spanish. That ngiht we decided to go see lucha libre in Guadalajara. We walked to the Arena Coliseo which was in a bad part of town. Everyone was staring at us unwelcomingly. We made it ot the Arena to find out it was not open on Thursday. We went back home disappointed. We got a group of us and went to a nearby taco stand. Matt and I had been talking about going out that night, so we invited Orlanda and Ruth and went to a music bar Scratch. They played blues, 60's, and James Brown. It was nice, but Matt and I wanted to dance-go out after spending our weekend in Chill Zacatecas. It was midnight, the four of us headed to a salsa bar Mutualista with a $15 cover and a live salsa band. At first we were all just standing around, waiting. Matt and Orlando went to get drinks and Ruth and I began dancing. Well she more or less taught me how to dance. Her feet were always moving twice the speed of mine. We danced all night. I joked that it was half dancing and half lucha, because the place was so full and we were constantly bouncing off other dancers. Matt danced with an attractive Mexicana until she asked to take a break and sit down. He couldn't stop and became fed up with her. They kicked us out at 2 am and we went home.

Roadtrip with Matthieu Carlier: Zacatecas

So a few days earlier at a Couchsurfing party, I met this French guy who was couchsurfing in Monterrey. He had been hitchhiking his way across the States for the past 5 months largely inspired by Jack Kerouac. After listening to his stories and plans to travel Mexico next, I shared that my life in Monterrey was very flexible without a job and offered to join forces with him in his trek through Mexico.

28/04/08
I picked him up three days later with two weeks and a loose plan of what we wanted to see. We both were slow getting ready as my house was without electricity that day following a storm the previous night. We left at 3pm for Zacatecas. We had a slow start stopping for groceries for the trip and to eat great tacos for under $35 a piece. We made it to the Tropic of Cancer and stopped to take photos. While I was taking a shot of a large globe that marked the spot, I felt something sting my toe. I looked down to see that I had stepped near a large ant farm and there was a fat one on my right foot. My toe hurt and as I continued to drive it throbbed a little.
We arrived in Zacatecas at 9 pm without a place to stay. We parked and decided to look for an internet cafe or a hostel. We passed a group of 3 alternative-looking guys about our age and I asked Matt if we should just ask them if we could stay with them. They said we could stay with them, so the 5 of us went to Wendy's for enchiladas then returned to their house located nicely in el Centro. The guys were Guillermo, Marvin, and Jose Luis. Guillermo and Jose Luis were guitar majors and Marvin is an engineer major. At their house we talked and they drank.

29/04/08
The next day I woke up and my foot was better. Matt showered with cold water as the guys haven't paid their heating bill. Also, when Matt went out to my car to get his clothes, their landlord told him that they hadn't paid their rent for the month - only $1000 each. Apparently, she has dementia and can't remember when they pay and when they don't. She also asked Matt and I to pay her for the nights we stayed. We refused of course.
Matt and I walked the streets of Zacatecas, wondering into a few tattoo shops for Matt to price tattoos. Matt wants a tattoo of a Mayan sun and keeps trying to talk me into getting a tattoo of Dia de los Muertos. We stopped at a bread store and got some pan dulce con flan adentro - too rich and heavy, but we both ate it. We explored a few churches and plazas. Matt became quickly frustrated with the aesthetic Zacatecas complaining that as soon as you put your camera away, you are surprised by another beautiful view. We climbed the mountain on one side of the town and took the teleferico over the city to the Bufa on the other side. We bought some small hand-made crafts from the gypsies on the other side and ate gorditas.
We went back to the guys' house to read and relax. WHen they all got home from school, we went to a cafe downtown that one of their friends Sol had opened. It's a cafe, bookstore, and art gallery all in one. The guys' guitar teacher was there drinking alone. He was already drunk, the guys invited him to come sit with us. He kept making the same jokes over and over again. Some being that the landlord wanted my money because I am Jesus Christ, so I have all the money in the world. Then a similar joke about how I should pay her because I'm such good friends with George Bush. He wasn't funny. We all talked about music, politics, and all the different meanings and uses of Spanish curse words. Sol kicked us out at 1 am as we were the only ones in the cafe. The teacher took Matt and some of the guys to another bar, followed by a gay bar. I went to get tacos and sleep.

Juacala

21/04/08

I'm watching TV with Marychewy and Tia Rita. They have Dish so they can order whatever movie they want. They've succesfully found three or four movies in a row that offend them. The last one was “30 Days of Night.” They watch the plot develop having no idea it's a vampire movie. Then they get to the first attack and look away saying “juacala... que horrible!”. Then the change the channel to “I am Legend” for a repeat. It's great. Other than that, my day is boring. They tried to explain juacala to me as "muy feo", but it's not in the dictionary.

I failed to get another job following an interview for GoEnglish. I took my first Monterrey bus last night and got a little lost. It was fun. I'm thinking about a brief roadtrip through the States in May to go to Greg's wedding in Indiana then St. Louis to see my family and maybe to California. On the job front. I met some American chicks who teach here and they couldn't believe I haven't got a job and made it sound like I must be trying not to work – maybe they're the first ones to figure me out.

My days are boring and unproductive, my nights are great. I need a new hobby. Weekends are awesome. Lucha libre is also good to me. Last night I saw La Parka wrestle. He's getting old and only did a few moves mostly poking people in the but when they bend over and ramming his crotch into their faces.

Weekend trip to Wine Country

13/04/08

Tuesday I had my interview with GoEnglish. The guy seemed cool. I have to wait another week or so to find out if I got it. Tuesday night I went to my first lucha libre match with Paloma. We arrived and paid 30 pesos ($3) for the upper deck. We went upstairs to an entirely empty arena. It was probably full to 10% of capacity. Apparently Sunday night is when the better wrestlers fight and when the people show up, but Tuesdays are cheaper. It was alright. The quality of the wrestling was less than I was expecting and it was mostly out of shape, fat guys totally telegraphing moves and making it abundantly clear that this is all fake. The crowd was really into it. I guess that's a big part of the appeal. The majority of the fights spill into the audience and the luchadors wave audience members out of their seats so they can throw opponents into them. Also, fans throw sodas, beers, tortillas and trash at the bad guys. Towards the end of the fight some of our other friends showed up. On the way out, I bought a La Parka mask for a bargain at 37 pesos. It's too small, but for once I went fashion over function as La Parka is the man. Then we went out to eat and got excellent food for too cheap.

I don't remember Wednesday except I saw Antes que el Diablo sepa que has Muerto. Alejandro was supposed to see it with me, but he bailed.

Thursday, I met up with Willem who's a couchsurfer from Belgium. We explored more of Monterrey. Mostly walking through busy market streets and museums and beautiful churches. He's great. He reminds me so much of my friend Brandon Hutsell I met from my semester in England. I keep laughing so hard at him and he doesn't understand why and that's why. He's traveling for like six months. He spent three months in Australia and one and a half months in New Zealand. Now he's spending ten days in Mexico and US before he goes home for his sister's wedding. I can't help but laugh at the amount of time he's allotted himself for Australia and New Zealand as opposed to the States. He's been a huge inspiration to me though, because he doesn't ever know where he's staying for the night. He just gets on a bus to a city and looks for a hostel or a couchsurfer. Later we met up with Paloma. Paloma and I were walking Willem to his hostel when we passed this plaza where a 20 + piece big band was playing tango music. The plaza was full of old people dancing. Everyone was between 50-90 except the three of us. Willem went to his hostel and Paloma and I danced for a little over an hour. That night we all went out to Cafe Iguana's which is the coolest place in Monterrey. It's a huge bar, venue, and dance floor all together in one huge, open-air building. One part of it has a DJ and fog machines and everyone's rave dancing. The rest of the place plays popular indie music too loud and everyone drinks and talks and looks at other people. It's very nice and we ended up dancing in the rave part for a while.

The next day we left for Parras. Paloma has family there and one of her niece's was having her first baptism followed by a family party. Paloma, Willem, Azael, and Camillo all went. We got a really late start because Paloma and Azael work until 7pm. We got there after midnight after a two hour detour at a grocery store. We stayed with Paloma's family: I forget the dad and mom's names, but the kids are Paloma (yes, another one like 14 years old), Choco (10), and Onya (5). The dad is a butcher.

Parras is another small town. Paloma says that it has the first winery in the Americas which is pretty impressive. Saturday, we got up and went to el Centro for breakfast. I got chicken tacos for 25 pesos ($2.50). After eating we went to El Tanque which is a huge swimming pool that is fed by a natural spring from the mountain. We all swam for about an hour, laid around, and I took Onya for a ride in a raft that Choco had rented. It was really tough to get anywhere because we had two oars and she refused to give hers to me, so we mostly rowed around in circles. Onya is the most precious girl that I've ever met. I told her mother so. Everywhere we went she would hold my hand, or ask me to pick her up and spin her around.

Somewhere along the way, Willem got really sick. He thinks he accidentally drank the water or something, so instead of swimming he lied on a blanket in the sun with a sombrero over his face. After swimming, we walked up to a church that was built on top of a small mountain. It was nice and small and from the top we had a nice view. Later, we went back home and fell in love with Paloma's family until that night when it was time to go to the party.

At the party Paloma introduced us all into like 30 different family members. Then we ate and drank at a table with some of the other young adults. After eating, we danced to Salsa, Raggaetone, and all kinds of Mexican classics. I danced with Onya, Paloma, Azael, Erica, and Monce. Monce is one of Paloma's too-attractive cousins who's an accountant. After the party, the original five of us (Paloma, Azael, William, Camillo, and I) and Erica looked for a Parras discotec with no luck. We ended up lying in a field drinking wine and water, just loving and looking at the starts. We saw one shooting star, well the best shooting star I've ever seen. It was golden.

Sunday, we ate breakfast at the same place. It was too good and cheap to pass up. We said goodbye and headed back to Monterrey. Onya gave me her pink stuffed animal of something between a dog and an elephant for a regalo to take home with me. It only has one eye. She asked Paloma when we were coming back to visit next and asked if we would come back tomorrow. Paloma told her that tomorrow sounds nice and that we'll be back.

On the way back my car hit 100,000 miles. Milestone! I dropped everyone off and Willem and I went to lucha libre as he wanted to see it and was leaving that night for Texas. Willem also told me that the word “Scherven” in dutch means smithereens and in old dutch it was spelled “Sjerven”. So I guess my last name means little pieces. Sunday's performance was better. Well we accidentally bought more expensive tickets than we had wanted at 100 pesos each. So imagine two blonde, (they call me blonde here), white guys over six feet towering above the average 5'6” dark-skin, brunette Mexican and we ended up in the front row. The put us on the jumbotron twice for like 30 seconds and I think people were cheering for us – I hope. We were talking like, “Man, I hope they don't put us up there again”, but I think we liked it because we were messing around, like I was making muscles and kissing them and Willem was dancing. When Willem danced the audience all made this sound they make whenever people solo dance and it's very sweet and encouraging.

Yeah, well the quality of the wrestling was much better Sunday. There was a mixed match two teams of a man and a woman each. It was alright, but for some reason after the match the girls switched guys and everything got crazy. The last match was a 4 on 4 match and each team had a midget. It was pretty amazing. There was also a fat, sexy guy who kept dancing and rubbing on everyone and a big guy in a bug suit. I don't remember who won, but it was great. I said goodbye to Willem before he caught his train to Austin and promised I'd try to visit him in Belgium. I also told him that I'm a dreamer and I intend to visit everyone I've met all over the world, and so far I've made it just to Mexico.

Una Tortuga

08/04/08

Yesterday, I had one of the most unexpectedly surprising days. It started as a slow, boring day. I did not feel like going downtown, so I walked to the nearby park. I went to my secluded area by the stream and sat down to read. About an hour later, around seven teenagers showed up and walked about fifty feet down stream where there was a rope swing hanging from a large tree. One by one they swung and dove in. One kid, climbed a fifteen foot tree and jumped in.

An hour or so later, a group of four kids and one teenager showed up further down stream and were working their way up. The oldest of them had a net which it looked like he was using to either fish or clean trash out of the creek. The littler kids had sharpened steel rods and industrial-strength rubber bands which they had fashioned into slingshot fishing poles. I can't remember the actual name for this method. The kids each had a few fish. They were scavenging along the far side of the creek, digging through the shrubbery. I returned to my book.

A few minutes later the oldest of the fishers started yelling at the kids who gathered around him. He pulled out a large turtle that looked like a snapping-turtle. Its shell was probably a foot in diameter and very flat to the ground. The guy brought it a shore and threw it up onto the land. The turtle immediately scuttled much faster than he expected and I thought was possible. He pounced on it again, grabbing it by its sides to avoid its head. The kids gathered around and the other group of swimming teens came over. I pulled out my camera to try to vaguely take pictures from my bench. It's difficult for me to do anything vaguely and they all immediately noticed. The kids started talking to and about me. “Para el periodico?” pointing at my camera. “No, por que quiero recuerdo, no mas.” After this the hunter held up his captive and posed. The other kids began shouting “un de toto” and they all climbed over another bench striking a pose and holding up gang signs. By this time a third group of teens had showed up. This group was the equivalent of Mexican thugs, wearing baggy shorts passed their ankles, fancy shoes, and different haircuts.

Everyone was excited about the turtle. One of the hunting kids asked me if I had some money. “No”, I lied. Everyone was asking me more questions than I could understand or answer.

Some of the thug kids asked me if I smoked pot, drank, or did cocaine. “No, me gusta refrescos y jugo, no mas.” He pointed to one of the hunting kids who was holding a small bottle up to his mouth and inhaling. I guess he was huffing something. One of the other kids grabbed it and took a drag. These hunting kids were like ten to thirteen years old.

The guy with the turtle by now had began trying to kill the turtle. He tried to place the head under the bench leg, but the turtle kept pulling his head in. He put the bench on top of the turtle's back and instructed one of the young fishers to shoot it in the head with his rubber-banded fishing rod. He did and the turtle began bleeding, but the rod hadn't gone all the way through the head. At this point the main fisher ripped a shirt into strips and tied it around the turtle, leaving excess on top to form a handle. They then put the turtle into a bag and continued further up stream.

The swimming kids took off as well, leaving me and the thugs. They asked me what bad words I knew in Spanish. I told them. They reminded me of a few others and taught me some that I hadn't learned yet. In return they asked me to translate these words into English, so they could try to repeat them. I obliged them. At this point they either became bored or realized how awkward I was with what was going on, and left. I finished my chapter and returned home as well to watch the Cards lose in extra innings.