Nepali times

Over two months in Kathmandu....love hate relationship with this city, especially in the monsoon. Seems to make the streets extra busy, noisy, polluted and dirty. We did a count and counted 45 beeps of car and bike horns per minute. The last week the sun has started to shine in between the rain and its amazing how different things look in the sun. I was thinking that I'm not sure I can survive in this city for very long, but when I really think of some of the moments we have been having in the last 2 months, it drives me on.

One of the moments was seeing 2 of the street young people our project supported with their photography get their taxi driving licences. But actually yesterday I was even prouder I think. Going down to Pashupati which is the cremation site in Nepal and walking amongst the burning bodies, breathing in the smoke from the fires and getting covered in human ash, we found one of

the young people we have supported. There he was wading in the river with a shovel bringing up silt looking for the coins and jewellery fallen from the bodies into the river. He was working so hard in that river trying to provide for his wife and his two boys.

It was Teej yesterday so the temple was bursting with women, queues of thousands of women in red trailed back out of the temple and far down the road waiting to make an offering to god for a good future. As far I understand Teej (which I realise is very little), the women fast and go to temple wearing red which is a lucky colour and also the colour they wear on their marriage day. If they are married

they ask for a long future with a husband and if they are unmarried they ask for a good husband to come soon. To be a widow here is a terrible burden and can mean being a complete curse to others and leave many woman a complete outcast. I heard the government had tried a new scheme where men receive a payment to marry a widow, supposedly to try and stop women being outcasts and giving them another chance but women are uprising against this. The women waited in the queue for several hours in the heat and many spent the day dancing with fervour to the sounds of Nepali beats. It was a beautiful display of sisterhood.

Things have been so busy recently I haven't had much time to write or think or update my blog...hoping the reasons for this I can share soon. This morning though, I was so struck that I felt the need to reflect. We are staying in Boudha which is the Buddhist Tibetan area of the city. We stay next to a monastery and listen to the young monks practising the Tibetan horn (not sure how its called) which sounds a bit like someone learning digeridoo! Amongst the nice buildings is a shack at the bottom of the guest house where a family of 8 (at the last count) live and work. They take care of the street dog and its new puppy and prepare foods to sell from their street cart in the evening. At the end of the lane is a Tibetan lady who sets up her noodle stall every day and does a roaring trade with the locals who enjoy slurping the white slippery noodles from the small bowls. Behind the noodle lady is a wall which at first looked like a pile of rubbish but at closer inspection is a woman's home. She has attached a clear plastic sheet to the wall that makes up her little cocoon. Everyday I see her peaking out of her little cocoon with a lost face looking too frightened to come fully out, just her head watching the world go by. Once I heard her sobbing and the locals were laughing. I tried to think about why that might be before judging. This morning the sun was shining and I headed out my guest house past the monastery towards the noodle lady and there the lady under the plastic sheet was. Someone has given her a bright orange tent which was obviously used for trekking at some stage and she was sitting bolt upright in the entrance of the tent smiling and waiving at me. The smile could have finished me off, I hadn't even realised that she had noticed me before. Such a small act to create such a smile in a person and encourage them out of their little cocoons.

p.s I've being trying to upload some pics but the internet is too slow so it keeps failing so i'm giving up...will add more later

El Salvador

5^th May 2011

I got an idea to cross the border into El Salvador though the Mountains so we could stop off at all the tiny villages and towns on the way and see the Lenca people.

We first stopped in La Esperanza where we pretty much had to build our own bedroom as we spent the first half an hour moving beds etc only to find that the rooms didn’t have locks on them. This town was a slightly disappointing first start as wasn't as pretty or busy as I thought it would be. We got up really early the next morning and took the chicken bus to Marcala which is where the journey got interesting. The bus basically went along a potholed, cratered dirt track for 3 hours, how the bus hadn’t fallen apart was

seriously beyond me, It was such a beautiful ride with the communities we passed along the way getting smaller and smaller. Lenca people climbed on the bus bringing the fruit and vegetables they had grown on their land and the bus filled with the smell of strawberries and green peppers. I was really wonderful- to have the chatter of the people so well known to each other and the magnificent view of the cloud forest. I really liked Marcala. We met the policeman straight away who wanted to show us where the mayor lived and how proud he was of this little market town.

We located the bus for the border and looked around as a demonstration kicked off about returning private companies back to public services. The bus to the border was jammed packed with el Salvadorians and hondurenos. The bus driver told us to tell the army that we wanted to visit a town near the other side of the border that was known for its revolutionary museum and that pride and interest in their country might just sway them to let us cross. I felt sure we could cross; we have already travelled for a few days! The bus rattled and rolled long another dirt track right up into th

e mountains past tiny farms and communities and then we reached the army post at the border. A soldier got on and asked all the men to leave the bus and he began checking everyone’s ID. I saw that some of the women didn't have the correct ID but he just waived them past

so I felt good. I tried to look cool (like they wouldn't notice the only white blonde person on the bus with the British passport). The soldier looked at my passport and asked me to get off the bus as he needed to confer with his boss. I saw Ray outside who seemed to have been let through (yet another example of even though the doesn’t speak much Spanish and his passport doesn’t say he is from Central America, his skin colour makes them sure he is!!!) so I said 'He is with me' hahaha and he was pulled from the men’s line too. The b

oss was called who explained to us that this wasn't actually an immigration post and it was for the CA4 countries only. The soldier said, but they only want to go see Perkin and then they have promised to come right back...right?' (!) 'Si si' I nodded enthusiastically. Boss wasn't having it and the next we knew the bus had thrown our luggage off the top of the bus and given us our 40 limperas back and they were off whilst we were detained by the army and politely questioned, photos taken of us and our passport (on his i phone as they didn’t have a camera or photocopier hahaha. We were made to wait in this remote mountain army post for a returning bus 3 hours back to the nearest town. The entire journey to cross this dam border took 3 days and the next bus cost $40 not 20 limperas but it was hilarious!!!!

9th May

So we are in El Salvador. On my last trip to central America there was no way I was going to El Salvador having heard it was too dangerous but I was liking it here. The first stop was San Miguel which had been described as 'San Salvador’s ugly step sister'. First thing I noticed was all the strip clubs about. Later found out that selling sex here is legal. Then you notice all the 'auto hotels' basically drive in sex joints but they get used for wives and girlfriends as well as for girls from the clubs The final thing you notice in this quite seedy ghetto town is the endless display of American chain restaurants smiling at you from every corner. An interesting mix...I like these kind of places. San Miguel was too dangerous to go out at night apparently. Actually the country El Salvador turned out to be such a safe and friendly place, not disturbed by tourism yet and the people were really cool. We headed out to the pacific coast (through a town where apparently even Popeye would look over his shoulder) to meet a friend who I had met the Dalai Lama with all those years ago in India. He was doing a photography project and offered us a chance to hang out with the clowns of El Salvador

Los Payasos

There was the manager, a serious guy who ran the show and a couple of young guys who were clowns. There was a whole family, the father the clown, the 14 year old daughter the dancer and the youngest occasionally appearing though they wished she would attend the schools they placed her in in each town. I loved this family and I developed a real shine for the 2 daughters one of which didn't seem to leave my side for most of the day. The eldest daughter went from being a real teenager playing football and cuddling her puppy to a busty spangly bra'd fish netted hit with the men in the evening. There was another dancer with 2 children. Mum spent time breastfeeding a chubby bubby and then insisted on having photos taken of her tits- 'chi chis for el Salvador' as she put it! Her other son was about 3 years old and spent the day amusing himself. Whether by nature or nurture this kid had spent his first few years surrounded by clowns and was an absolute natural. Whenever I saw him he was either tying his body and hands up with rope (assuming that’s the escape artist in him), climbing up high trees doing cartwheels or demanding a painted clown face and sought to be in front of the camera at any opportunity. He was incredible!

Throughout the day the circus attracted curious local people who would stop by to meet them. A local drunk came by several times to ask for a job and the local tranny became a regular who had a weird fixation with putting her bum in my face to show me her G- string (which by the way I notice she changed several times in the day). Later in the day another dancer appeared and another transvestite who put on a sexy outfit, mouthed popular songs and went into the audience to terrify (and turn on) the boys in the evening.

My friend got some incredible shots of them for his work. I found these circus people to be incredible people; so open, accepting, smutty, funny and really respectful of each other and the people they met including us. They opened their world to us for a day and I felt really honoured to have met them.

Xela- San Pedro- Rio Dulce

Leaving Xela

So I managed to stay 2 days in Xela with Ray before the cold and the grey got to me so I left him there to go climbing and I opted to go back to Lake Atitlan. I said a sad goodbye for a few weeks and in the process didn't notice the state of the taxi I was jumping into. It seems compulsory to have cracks in the windscreen here but this seemed an amazing feat of gravity that it was holding up it had so many cracks, or infact how the car was moving forward at all it was so so rusty. I checked briefly for Fred Flinstone feet but nothing. The car spluttered along the streets making rather strange cranking noises and then began to fill with black smoke coming from the boot..'Senor Senor hay humo' I told him slightly panicky...'Si si senorita' he chuckled happily. I ended up on the chicken bus option again but this time the bus drivers were a little calmer, the usual gaggle of vendors jumped on and off and a woman struggling to sing her songs for jesus and preach through her tears stayed on the bus for a while. Something that struck me was how many guys your saw passed out on the side of the highway. I wasn't sure if they were passed out drunk or had been knocked over, hoping for the former. At one point there was a dog in the middle of the road also nearly getting run over but he was trying to protect his owner who was sleeping with his feet coming off the verge onto the tarmac. The government has built bridges across the highways for the villages dotted along the side but the people don't really use them. It was great to get back to the Lake as we came down into the valley it looks so beautiful with its volcano, surrounding mountains and shimmering water in the sun.

San Pedro

Spent another 2 weeks in San Pedro crashing out verbs between 3 teachers and trying to have intellectual conversations in Spanglish. The current talk is of the Guatemalan president who has decided to divorce his wife so that she can run for presidency at the end of his term in September. She seems to have been a pretty big influence in his presidency so far and people are very divided on it thinking it a scam or that getting divorced is making a mockery of family values here. In between straining my brain I discovered a roof top hot tub over looking the lake and the volcano for the mere price of buying a beer which seemed to hand in hand nicely and eating copious amounts of tofu (weird Asian food influence in middle of Guatemala).

San Pedro to Rio Dulce

on Sunday we took a long ride to Rio Rulce (think about 13 hours in total) via Antigua where we got a really clear view of 'Volcan Fuego' puffing away and via Guatemala city where we took great pains at deciding to pay an extra £8 for the 5 hour aircon bus to Rio Dulce. The journey actually ended up being closer to 8 hours as we had to stop on the way several times for the driver to do his shopping whenever he saw a nice fruit and vegetable stall on the side of the road. We got to Rio Dulce in the dark and couldn't grasp what the place looked like. We called from a shop and a guesthouse sent out a boat to come and pick us up. It was so strange. We waited by the dock and out of the dark a little boat rolled up and we jumped in. We cruised across this river that seemed more like a lake in the pitch black with the boat driver holding a mag light in his mouth to warn people we were there. It was so beautiful with the stars out and this silvery water. We still had no idea what to expect and suddenly the boat took a left and went off down a little canal and we were slowly going through jungle. Giant trees grew on the sides with creepers that hung down and you could see how green the water was even in the dark. We pulled up a dock where we could see the lights of the guesthouse but I wished he could have kept going! last night we slept under a family of bats in the roof. Today we had an incredible day bathing under a scorching hot waterfall and taking a trip through a canyon by some local kids where we saw a Mayan face that had been naturally formed in the rock.

Los Chicken Buses

14th March 2011

We opted to take the several chicken buses to Xela. The second one was literally the scariest ride I have ever taken. I really don’t remember a country where the buses overtake ALL of the traffic and race the other buses around treacherous roads with huge drops on one side. The one from Chimaltenango to Los Encuentros was ridiculous, it overtook every single other car and bus in its path regardless of whether anything was coming the other way. Every person in the bus was having to hang on to the seat in front so not to fall off the seats although they seemed completely non plussed about it. One rather large mum couldn’t help squashing her 3 children into the side which sent her kids into screams of delight at every corner. My nerves were in tatters, my knuckles white and I couldn’t look at the road to see the latest more than near miss. I had to start naming the children and giving them hobbies and future careers so I could believe there would be a tomorrow! The bus actually drove one car off the road onto a dirt track so he could get past and all this to the beats of muy romatico love songs!

The buses here actually have a really interesting story which I would love to find out more about. Apparently they are school buses from the U.S which have gone into retirement and then they are sold at auction for the Central American market. When they are brought down here and given a complete overhaul; suped up engines, back tyres brought forward, sometimes cut down in size, an incredible paint job in an amazing array of colours and finally they are given names like Juanita and a couple of glittery Jesus stickers and then driven to their extremes.

The Buses seem to appear in the media alot here, particularly the buses in Guate (the capital). The main stories centre around the extortion that the drivers face and the robberies that seem to be a scarily regular occurrence. These days the ladrones are opting to rob the buses on the way into the city as it gives them more time in between stops to rob everyone on the bus. My teacher was telling me that passengers hide their money and belongings where they can leave a little available to try and satisfy a robber. People jump on and off the buses all the time here to sell a whole variety of goodies, beg for money or preach the word of god so it’s not unusual to see some appear from the back door as the bus is moving. My teacher was actually robbed once by person who dressed as a preacher, who gave a sermon to the passengers and then pilfered what he could!

The other interesting thing is how some of the Mayan communities here deal with law breakers. For example recently there was a case of extortion on a bus driver in the neighbouring town of Sololá. The bus owner ignored the demands for money so two people climbed on a bus one day and shot the driver and a stray bullet hit a passenger too. They managed to catch the 2 teenagers obviously hired to do the job or involved in a gang and the police held them in a cell. The local Mayans gathered together and marched to the police station and demanded the culprits be released. The police caved in once the group began aiming fireworks into the police station. Once they had dragged out the culprits they undressed them, took turns to beat them and finally tried to set fire to them. I don’t know whether the teenagers survived but this is justice in Mayan law, taking on an eye for an eye approach. The police were powerless to do anything as they are regularly overwhelmed by the people.

Still it’s a fun and uber cheap way to travel about Guatemala and the tunes are muy romatico.

the gypsy's back in town

so been trying to figure out what exciting things to write for my first blog entry in 3 years but think i'm still busy doing nada!

3 years back in the UK getting fairly settled with a good job etc, meant it was actually quite hard for this little gypsy to leave...but I somehow managed it! After 3 carboot sales, an online carboot sale (thanks to those who own all my crap now), several gumtree ads, and some boxes in a loft (thanks Fabio & Anja) and a feckin briilaint send off (thanks to all my London family), we were off.

First stop was Isla mujures (Mexico), a gringo invested island just off Cancun but a beautiful jumping off point from the airport and straight onto a white beach. Spent a week there, unwinding, having sunset beers and letting the sun get rid of a few London wrinkles (or did i just get older, cus they are still here!)

Then cruised through Chichenitza (got bored quickly trying to guess what everything was without a guide..stingy people!) and onto Tulum to catch up with everyone there. The GVI base where I worked before has gone now and the jungle has reclaimed it (or the pinche tabanos have). Was so wicked to get back there and see everyone after nearly 4 years away, hoping to go back after some more travel around central America. We left on the day that the police came and clauserado'd some of the main beach places as they are built on protected land, but they have done this several times before and probably makes a nice little earner. Was alot of fun to cycle about the streets reminising and going through the beach roads.

17 hours down to San Cristobal, land of the zapitistas which is higher up in the mountains (and veeeery cold at night, wearing all your clothes to sleep in is required!) and then we did another 11 hours to get to Lake Atitlan. San Pedro is really beaufitful and still love it here. The new mayor has done a good job of keeping it quiet by sending the police round to shut all the bars at 11am. He is staunchly religious and not that into tourists (suits this abuelita). We have been moving around pretty quick the first few weeks as been really keen to get back to Spanish school in the vain hope of getting past sentences like "will there be a 'fight' at 6pm?' in stead of 'boat' and Ray telling the hostel owner 'your coffee is your wife!'

We've been in San Pedro for 3 weeks now studying and leaving just a little time for kayaking, trying to weave, having to swap boats mid lake due to flooded engines, fending of the hostels crazy dog and regaining my beer gut. Cannot think in English or Spanish anymore so time for a weeks break to party in Antigua in a couple of days before moving onto Xela.

will send some updates soon and sorry for all the 'we' (can't be helped these days, having a ball:) )..will try to have a few 'i's too lol and sure will become less rusty and more interesting for you guys!

man... its all stress stress stress!