When life give you waves, learn how to surf

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Yet again, I'm slacking off in my writing. I know I've been back a week now, but the final edition of Mexico 2012 is better late than never. I hope you enjoy my rambling recollections.

3/24/12
How time flies by ever so fast. Sadly, tonight is the eve of my last full day in Mexico. I fly out on Monday, but Steph has to work so tomorrow is really the last time we’ll get to hang out until I come visit again. I suppose, my current life as a student requires that I leave this misconstrued “fantasy” world for the life of stress, work, and studying back in the States. I am most definitely proud of my country, but I am the first to admit we have our priorities in such a wrong place. Although I know I am bettering my life and future with my choice to pursue higher education, my heart breaks a little bit each time I step on the plane back to my university, not knowing how long it will be until I may return to the life I truly desire.

I suppose it is best to start where I last left off. This week has more or less been time to relax and explore on my own, which we all know is right up my alley. However, I did get put to work on Wednesday when I visited the school with Steph. Since it is the end of their quarter, the school puts on an English exhibition where all of the students demonstrate what they have learned, including speaking only in English. My job, as “visiting marine biologist“, was to guest judge the science fair. I was a little nervous, as the parents of the children also showed up to support and encourage their kids during the presentations. My first task was to judge the 4th graders, and I have to admit I was incredibly impressed with their projects. It was pretty obvious who got the most help from their parents, as some of the kids really didn’t understand what their projects were about. Next up was 5th grade, the group who impressed me most. There were projects about solar, electricity, geology, chemistry and much, much more. The winners from this group (and of the day, in my opinion) were the group who created a fertilizer and pesticide using cigarette butts and soap. I plan to try this at home in my garden, just need to find some smokers! After lunch I judged the 6th graders, whose projects were much more complex, but most of which seemed to be right out of a box. Regardless, the kids seemed like they did their research and understood the topics quite well. It was adorable to see how excited the winners were when they received their ribbons and prizes. It did break my heart a little, when I saw a little boy nuzzled in his mom’s side, trying to hide his sadness for not winning a prize. I just wanted to hug the poor little guy, but I know he’ll be alright.

Thursday afternoon Steph got off work early, so we drove back up to Santiago to meet her friend Pepe for a tour of the local hot springs. After a long and VERY dusty ride through bumpy dirt roads, the fields opened up to a desert oasis in the valley, compete with palm trees and all. We pulled up to a small farm and chatted with the owner for a bit. Pepe owns an ecotourism company and dive shop based out of Las Barilles, so he knew the owner quite well. We made the short hike down to the pools, and I was instantly in heaven. The mineral waters were just the right temperature to rest in the shade for a long, lazy afternoon. After an hour of chatting and just passing time, our hunger started to speak up; mine likely due to a promise of lobster tacos at a local restaurant. Lobster in the middle of the desert? Weird, I know, but I was assured it was worth it, and I don’t question food recommendations. Heading back to the restaurant proved to be another death-defying, dust-filled tumbler ride.

While we waited for the main course, we snacked on some amazing fresh guacamole and salsa, accentuated by a cool margarita made with fresh squeezed lime juice. YUM. Between courses, we made the short hike down to the nearby waterfall, where a group of college students were busy jumping off ledges into the cool water below. If my food wasn’t on the way, I would have been all over the cliff jumping! But alas, my stomach always takes priority, so we headed back and the food came out shortly after our return. I’m not lying ort exaggerating, but my first bite of that taco was phenomenal! Rich, buttery and fresh, I swear the thing just melted in my mouth. No Mexican meal would be complete without setting my mouth on fire, and I thoroughly succeeded after a few nibbles of a chile de arbol. I have no clue what the little pepper was, but AYE, my stomach was on fire for hours! I savored every morsel of those amazing tacos, and told the chef in all honesty, it was one of the best meals of my life. Seriously, if you’re ever in Baja, get to Santiago and find this chef. The sun was setting as we drove back to San Jose, and our big plans to go to Art Walk were trumped by our exhaustion when we walked in the door. That’s what a toasty mineral bath and delicious meal will do, I suppose.

Friday I was on my own, so I wandered downtown San Jose to explore. I didn’t realize it before, but there are more, and better art galleries here than in Todos Santos. Some of my favorites included an artist named Ivan Guaderrama, a 27-yr old with some incredibly unique pieces. Very impressive, and sure to be a huge success in the future. I chatted with one of the employees, and even had the chance to meet the artist himself. Apparently he also has a gallery in Laguna Beach, CA, so I can’t wait to check it out when I get back to Cali. There were also very impressive jewelry makers, displaying their work, as working on new pieces as I browsed the shops.

I walked around some more, started to get hungry, and decided to cave and eat some gringo food for a change. I ended up at a rooftop bar called “Shooters”, apparently owned by Canadians judging from the sports memorabilia and constant hockey channel on every TV. I pulled up a stool in the shade and opened up my book, set to relax while I waited for my burger and fries. Naturally, that plan changed as soon as the crazy gringo next to me lit up a stinky cigarette and started talking. Turns out the nut job is a semi-new resident, stuck in Los Cabos due to an arrest warrant back in the States. After a few unnecessary shots of tequila, he proceed to tell me all about his past bar fights, business in Chicago, current (dwindling) free-lance business he’s trying to run from here (apparently conference calls while on a bender are frowned upon by clients- who would have thought?), and his disgust for his family who wants to seem him pay for his crimes and spend a little clean up time behind bars. Yes, I always manage to attract some interesting folks. Anyway, I munched down my food and said adios to my classy new friend, and headed back to the house. It was a long, scorching hike back and rested my aching calves for a bit before dinner.

Steph and I decided to change things up a bit and went downtown to an Argentinean grill where she ate once before. Despite some painfully slow initial service, our waiter proved to be quite friendly and helpful. We listed to the live singer/guitarist while we waited for the food. First came the break, chimichuri sauce and a savory herb butter. Everything was melt-in-your-mouth amazing! Chimichuri is officially my new favorite condiment. Now I need to master making it at home and I’ll be set for life. Next was the main course, for which I ordered a juicy steak, cooked quite literally over open flames, as the only stove/oven in the place was essentially a campfire style grill. Well worth the wait, and a steal for the price (only ~$13: my splurge meal for the trip). All in all, it was yet another meal that failed to disappoint.

I have to admit, I’m starting to feel a bit like I’m writing “Into the Wild”, not because I’m wandering out into the Yukon unprepared, but because I feel like I’m just raving about my food. Apologies, but that’s what happens when you read the blog of a foodie. As a TMI side note, I am extremely proud that even after eating countless meals of local, raw, and possibly “scary” vendor food, I made it through the entire trip without any, ahem, “issues” to keep me back. I don’t know if my Colombian ameoba experience toughened up my gut or my relentless need for “mas caliente” peppers killed every last bit of bacteria in my gut, but I’m happy.

Anyway, after working a bit on papers and grant applications, Saturday we ventured out to the weekly organic market that’s held during dry season in the arroyo (dried up riverbed). I was very pleased to see the vast array of prepared food, farm products, artwork, jewelry, massages, music, and about everything else you can imagine. I had no idea so many hippies lived in Los Cabos. I slowly meandered through the different booths, sampling my way around the market. I found some tasty and beautiful products, but unfortunately, the market seems to cater to rich gringos so everything was expensive, even for US standards. I stuck with Steph’s advice and had some delicious organic pizza and a tasty cucumber-mint lemonade. We then listened to a lecture about one of the environmental organizations in Baja, and their attempt to reforest areas that have been mined, farmed, or deforested. It seemed like a great organization, but I sadly can’t remember its name.

After more browsing, we headed home to work a little more before returning later in the evening for the concerts and magic show. Typically, the market is just that, but with summer’s heat approaching, crop season is about finished, so this was the last one of the year. Lucky for me, this also meant a huge party instead of simply market day. The band we tried to find the night before (Pura Vida) was playing, so we were excited to check them out. They’re a local band that plays a lot of pop covers, but they have a great sax player and crazy harmonica player, but that part of the story is coming. While we were listening to one of the first bands, Steph’s friend introduced me to two girls visiting from Minnesota, as well as the harmonica player, slightly-crazy Robert, and his student, Alfonso. After a quick exchange with Alfonso, I had a good feeling about where this night may head.

Next, the magician was getting ready for his opening act. I’m not typically a magic fan, but this guy was not only adorable, he was hilarious, too! I’m told he moved here with his parents from Washington, and they are his biggest fans. His dad was running sound for him and beaming the entire time. He did simple tricks, but pulled them off without a hitch. He also did the entire show in Spanish which was impressive for a newly uprooted gringo. The little kids had a fantastic time, as did the adults. After the show, we chatted with all the new folks while waiting for Pura Vida to start up.

Once the band started, it took only one song before Steph convinced me to get out front and join the mass of free dancing. We had a blast, just going crazy for a couple hours. A few times, I even joined in the “smashing” or what we better know as the mosh pit. Thankfully Rasta music makes for a slightly more mellow mosh pit, but it was so much fun just bouncing around off of every crazy person in town. After about two hours of incredible music and madness, we weren’t ready to call it a night quite yet, so we headed to the after party where the Minnesota girls’ friend was the DJ. I was happy that my new friend also tagged along, to make for a much more entertaining night. We had a fantastic time, chatting and dancing the night away.

Since I stumbled home entirely too late, Sunday was yet another lazy day. We trekked down to a beautiful beach and watched the surfers tackle some pretty big swell. I was intimidated by the incredibly rocky beach, and my lack of sleep didn’t help my confidence, but I decided I had to paddle out at least once and give the San Jose surf a shot. As soon as I hit the water, I was instantly rejuvenated. I quickly paddled past the shore breaks and out towards the bigger waves. Unfortunately, my energy burst disintegrated as quickly as it appeared, and I was stuck riding some whitewash for a while before I got too exhausted and headed back to shore. At least I could get salty one last time before heading home. That evening we were all spent, so after dinner I repacked all my gear and tried to get some sleep before the long journey home.

3/26
The trip home is always a time to reflect on my experiences, both good and bad, and also hope of the many good times to come. Sitting in my sardine can of a seat, gazing down at the landscape below I couldn’t help but stare in awe at how quickly the view can change from vast blue to barren desert and massive dunes to towering mountains, complete with snow capped peaks, green vegetation and deep blue lakes. As much as I complain about it, Southern California really is an incredible place. It is sad, however, to experience Baja and see what the SoCal landscape should look, and did before the drones of people flocked here. Just ten minutes after looking over the thirsty dunes, there were only homes and development, as far as my eyes could see. If nothing else, it is pretty incredible to think how much of an impact the human race made on this globe over the last 100+ years. As the plane descended slowly over the last piece of land, made a slight right turn before Catalina Island on our final approach to LAX, I closed my eyes and tried to relax during my last few minutes of freedom.

Customs and Immigration in LAX are equally efficient to those of Mexico. You may think it not be necessary for lines to literally wrap around every room in the airport, but sadly, you’d be wrong. Since I had not traveling companions to hold my place in line while I visited the bano, I was quite literally the last person in line to go through. Thankfully, though my collection of passport stamps might have proved beneficial as after a quick, “how long were you gone?” conversation, I was through the doors to reunite with my long awaited backpack. The bus ride back to Union Station put me in about 5 minutes too late for my train, so I had to kill an hour while I waited for the next one. I was thrilled to have noticed an apparent street fair just a few blocks from the station in the Chinatown district. Fabulous! I admit, although I did manage to maintain a diverse palate on this trip, some authentic Asian food sounded pretty amazing. After hiking through the station and across a few streets, though, I was abruptly reacquainted with Mexico. Huh? Apparently my “street fair” was some corny tourist trap with Mexican vendors and (overpriced) taco stands. I laughed at myself countless times as I browsed through and said, “no gracias” again and again. I always seem to have this kind of luck. I hiked back to the station and settled for a fat Subway sandwich instead. And I have to admit, it was pretty tasty.

The train ride back proved to be uneventful, and gave me a chance to catch up on more reading and writing for the upcoming quarter. I smiled sadly as I stepped off the train and onto the platform, back into this reality I know all too well. Yes, back to the grind: school, work, and life as we know it. That is, until the next time I can manage to escape back into my own little paradise on the road less traveled.

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