Gary... Oh My.

Post date: Jun 18, 2010 9:35:20 PM

South of Palenque I entered a world that made the rest of Mexico seem like another planet. The mountains, cool and green and quiet, were the refuge I’d needed since the last time I left them. Without a doubt, I am a man of contrasts; I typically find little pleasure in monotony, although I admire those who do. So although I loved the chlorophyl-soaked jungles of Chiapas and Tabasco, the dancing of Villahermosa, and the Caribbean reef, the mountains felt like the answer to my prayers. Every so often you cross through a little village with little people, quiet and soft in their ways. The air was different. Cleaner. Immediately the senses awaken. The heat of the Yucatan is deathly. It poisons the motivation, confuses judgment. I actually think it may be very good for manic phases of bipolar individuals.

I saw a boy carry a frail old lady up a steep hill. I wonder if this is a regular chore for the boy. How touching. I saw people carrying bundles of sticks (they’re actually called “faggots,” believe it or not) on their back with the straps wrapped around their foreheads. I saw women in brightly colored, traditional Mayan clothing. Such vibrant colors on such white white. They all thought me strange, and they probably all hated me for whizzing by at such speeds. And the scenery was spectacular. The prettiest since the last mountains.

No good comes without a price, it seems, and this price was bad roads. Gravel, gravel everywhere. At one point, the lane ended immediately after a turn. In place of a lane was a collapsed road. Traffic funneled to the one good lane while workers tended to the chore. Sometimes boulders were in the road. Sometimes a dog will be there scouting for a meal. Usually it’s a speedbump, the size of which is hard to ascertain, so you must slow way down even for the smallest ones. You find cursewords you never knew existed when you hit one you missed. I’ve learned to slow down.

I was in a hurry to get out of Mexico so that I could reach the Aduana office before they closed so that I could receive my $200 deposit refund for my bike. That meant fun riding through the mountains. It also caused me to wipe out.

I laugh now at how I’d said before that I wanted to wipe out on the bike just to feel what it’s like, to know the limits of my bike’s handling. Now I know. I hit a patch of gravel in the middle of a turn at maybe 30 mph. I was wearing shorts, my jacket, and helmet. You sorta black out when it happens. When I stopped, the bike was on my left ankle, trapping me with the left saddlebag. Now I know why they say hard cases are dangerous, but they also saved my possessions during the accident in Actopan… and here. Adrenaline pushed the bike off of me. The ankle was sore but unsprained. I survived with mere scrapes and a swollen ankle. A bus slowed to check if I was okay, and some construction workers helped me lift the bike, which is 500+ pounds when loaded. It started right up, and off I went. Now I chuckle!

The mountains got bigger and the scenery got better the closer I got to Guatemala. I saw two monkeys circling in a cage on a truck headed north. A cow stopped in the road, stopping traffic. A local threw rocks at it to move it. Men used machetes to whack the grass on the sides of the highway. Reminded me of my chores in Alaska. Pigs grazed on the sides of the road, along with the horses and cows. When I have my farm, there will be no mowing; I will have a goat and a cow for that.

I arrive by 5pm, the office is open, and guess what… no refund on my deposit because I never paid one, he said. Ah, the wipeout was for nothing… But passing the border was a breeze. I thought some police were going to harass me as they checked my bike, but they were just curious I guess.

To exchange my pesos for quetzals (Guatemalan currency), one must do business with these completely unprofessional-looking men on the street outside the customs office. A cop pointed me to an old man with a sombrero. I did the math ahead of time since I knew the exchange rate. I don’t know the man’s age (other ethnicities’ ages are hard to read), but he was old enough to have some mental impairment. And visual. He couldn’t find anything in his pouch, and I had to repeat my needs very slowly. Wasn’t just my accent. Some other money-changers came to help. They turned out to be good guys. They helped the process. My calculations were dead on. That made my ego happy. The old man, I’m sure, would be receiving disability and social security benefits in the United States. But not in Guatemala. Here, as in Mexico, I know, and probably in most parts of the world, you work somehow, someway, until you simply cannot (for real). I admire that greatly. It is also sad that poverty drives such necessity, but at the same time, such work is so health-promoting (still the Employment Specialist, I guess.)

I stayed that night in a cheap Guatemalan hotel. I felt extraordinary. My bike survived it out of Mexico. I saved some money not going back to Villahermosa, and I was confident I’d make Guatemala City for the repairs. Only 200 miles left. I reflected on Mexico.

Recap of Mexico:

Broken nose, robbed by the police, setup and robbed by the police, twice inoperable bike and over two weeks of inoperability in shops/maintenance, delayed over two weeks due to lost items, never received memory card. Made friends in Actopan, Mexico City, Merida, Villahermosa and was helped in more places than that. Fulfilled life-long dreams to explore Teotihuacan, Palenque, and Chichen Itza, and I witnessed historic Mexico City and the wild Mexico City streets, Cenote Ikkil, snorkeled a Caribbean reef, saw some beautiful mountains, tried all sorts of exotic foods, and received a good introduction to international motorcycle travel and Latin America. I went head to head with my loneliness and doubts about this trip due to my motorcycle problems and expenses, but I overcame them and I am continuing. By gods, I am continuing. The heat was a factor in my mental functioning. Mexico has been one of the toughest things I’ve ever encountered. But I feel stronger now. I’m in Guatemala.