Map of the Americas

Map of the Americas
We are using this map to find our way home. We will be marking where we are in big fat red marker like Indiana Jones. (map idea courtesy of Blake Golden)

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Beach Bummin

Well, haven't blogged in a while. That's almost becoming routine, but this time I had a reason! I was being a beach bum. Now, truth be told I did nothing this past week besides play the boardgame Risk, sit on a towel in the sun, sit in an loungechair in the sun, lie in a hammock in the sun, play chess, read various books, and spoke a lot of Spanish. It was perfect. I mean, after I was there for a week, I asked myself why would I not want this life?

I helped a man with his ear problem while I was there. I obviously was just helping, I didn't expect anything in return. But nonetheless, how did he repay me? He brought me two lobsters he had just caught in the ocean. He had a bucket full of them. Gave me two. So I had lobster for breakfast for free. I had been paying five dollars a night for my beach side cabana, and probably five dollars a day for good food (shrimp and stuff) and I thought, why not move down here? I mean how crazy must I be to not live down here? Anyhow, the thought is still there. Who knows? Maybe I'll just move to Gulf Shores and live down there and still be a beach bum. Work eight hours a day and fish and eat shrimp the other sixteen hours a day. I could have a guest house for anyone wanting to come stay a week, month, or year.

Anyway, so beach bumming is a great life. I only did it for a week, but I caught a good glimpse of it by the owners of our hostal. As much as I want to say they run a good business and work hard (which they do, I highly recommend them) really they are just bumming it on the beach at heart. I mean this guy Franz, between playing risk with his customers or chess or monopoly, just reads and surfs. It's so amazing. He built his hostal, (which is incredibly nice, six bedrooms with private baths and a few rooms with dorms with shared baths with his house on the third floor) on a half acre of absolutely beachfront property (like the floor of the common ground of this place is sand) for around sixty thousand dollars. Hell, I'll be double that in debt in a year. How easy would it be to just do that? And enjoy life and the beach...

Anyway, I wasn't really planning on blogging on beach bumming but it sort of happened. Well I'm headed back stateside real soon. To tell the truth, I'm really excited because I miss everyone over there. I'm sure I'll be equally excited to return to South America in January. So see yall real soon!!!

Blog Points:
1. I was asking someone how to say kleats the other day. Like for your feet. Because, how cool is this? they call them tacos in Venezuela. Well they told me zapatos de futbol. I was like, yeah I know they are for soccer, but what do they call them, for like other sports. Then it dawned on me. They don't play baseball or football here. Only soccer requires kleats, so the name works. Amazing

2. Merrill met this girl on the way to the beach. She was nothing more than loco for him. So we get off this bus, he tells her he will call her and not five minutes later she is calling him. Merrill, who is making strides with his Spanish, was now having a conversation over the phone. Meanwhile we are on a boat taxi crossing this bay. Now Spanish over the phone is a lot harder than Spanish in person. I know this sounds silly, but it's the truth. Well she asks him how the boat ride is going, and he says, "Pues, estamos en el barco, y el barco esta sobre el agua." He was just trying to make coherent sentences, and was doing a good job. Turns out he said, well, we're on the boat, and the boat is on the water. HA! Real Don Juan right? We got a good laugh out of that.

3. Franz applied for a land-line for a phone to his hostal. But there are only so many lines coming into the small beach town of Canoa. So when do you ask did he actually apply for that land line? A week? A MONTH? Nope. Apparently land lines here are like tickets to the Master's. People have to die to get them. He applied two years ago for his land line!!!

4. So, I saw a truck the other day. It was a chevy. If you couldn't tell from that backwards bowtie on the tailgate, you could tell from any of the dozen chevy stickers posted on it. I mean this guy would probably throw up on himself if he ever got in a Ford. One of those guys. Anyhow, one sticker kinda stuck out. I don't think he really understood it's significance. But sure enough on the back of his truck he had a Calvin sticker peeing on a chevrolet symbol. S.A. never disappoints.

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