San Pedro, Lake Atitlan
After a particularly treacherous drive through the volcanic hills surrounding Lake Atitlan, I notice the brakes on the van are beginning to fade. We hope it’s only because the brake fluid is boiling from overuse and not something worse. The next day, our trusty Mazda MPV gets some much-needed attention. We change the oil and check the fluids. Most everything seems ok. Except I notice some differential oil on the inside of one of the rear wheels. Turns out that one of the axle gaskets has broken and was leaking oil onto the rear brake. We get it fixed before it gets any worse, and thus we safely get through the first car problem after 4500 miles of driving. (Insert sound of knocking on wood.)
Lake Atitlan is a huge body of water formed by a ring of ancient volcanoes. It has always been considered a sacred place by the indigenous people, and, needless to say, it is a strikingly beautiful spot on this Earth. More recently, there has developed a serious bacterial infestation that has rendered the water incredibly toxic. The stench near the waterfront is unbearable. There are attempts by the locals to clean the lake, empty statements made by the government, and much speculation posed by everyone on the community. This whole situation is a great surprise to us and will be covered further in the movie.
Surrounding the lake are 12 small towns named after Jesus’ apostles. The influence of Catholicism is a constant in the local culture of Guatemala. In San Pedro, we stay at a home where we are each afforded our own room and we even have an outdoor kitchen. All for less than $2 a night! And after a couple days, we are even able to convince them to leave the water on at night. Great place.
Max and Ana Paula are a joy to travel with and have proven very useful for the movie as well. Their intelligence, humor and good spirits are great assets to the group. Also, it helps that they like to sit around and bullshit and drink Gallo (still our favorite local beer) and Old Friend (our newly-discovered favorite local whisky). The Dream Team.
We secure interviews with two local spiritual guides, Pedro Garcia and Feliciano Pop. Interesting stuff, if not exactly what we expected. They both ask for money after the interviews. This is going to be a common request among subjects. Not sure how I feel about it.
San Pedro has a good share of American and European tourists, and, as such, plenty of cheesy bars to accommodate them. There’s the “techno bar”, the “reggae bar”, etc. I’ve never heard so much Bob Marley in my life. One night, we decide to stay on the other side of town and hit a local bar. True to form, there is a guy passed out on the floor, the regular drink here being a pint of aguardiente. Of course, we 5 gringos are immediately noticed, providing a distraction from the Madonna songs and wall-to-wall filth that seem to be the norm of the place. When the proprietor, a middle aged woman who must be no taller than 5 ft, calls closing time, we leave. But not without being followed by a new friend we refer to as “Anthrax”. He is wearing an Anthrax t-shirt, so it seems appropriate. After he refuses to leave us to walk home, the moniker seems even more so. Through his drunken, broken English we hear tale of a crack addiction and an abusive mother. We don’t want him following us home, so we head on back to the tourist strip and ditch him at The Buddha Bar. Last I see, he is talking to a German girl who is passed out on the front porch.
A few days later, The Buddha Bar is showing a downloaded bootleg of “2012”. We agree that it’s better than “Day After Tomorrow” but not as quotable as “Independence Day”. Woody Harrelson is definitely a high point. To our relief, Anthrax did not attend the screening. Maybe he got lucky.
Santiago, Lake Atitlan
We have a very productive day traveling to another town across the lake, Santiago. We take a boat there and shoot along the way. Then we meet a young kid called Miguel that acts as our tour guide for the day. We shoot from the back of the pickup truck en route to our first stop in town. Great fun. He takes us to our first experience with a shrine to San Simon. Found only in Guatemala, these shrines generally involve some kind of wooden or plastic sculpture of a mustachioed man, surrounded by candles and decorations. Locals come to the shrine and make offerings of liquor, cigarettes and cash. There’s also usually some kind of ritual that involves chanting around a fire pit. Weird, interesting stuff that’s great on camera.
Later, we run across a Marimba band playing at a bar. To be more clear, the 9 piece group is crammed together on a second floor landing of an unfinished cinder-block building. This country has no shortage of character.
Fuentes Georginas
Beautiful pools fed by natural hot springs. Finally some hot water! We also get a bunch of food from the local market to cook on the grill outside our bungalows. Finally some proper hamburgers! We stay overnight here and have a very relaxing evening with the pools all to ourselves. We need the rest to prepare for our next adventure, the tackling of Volcan Santiaguito.
Until next time-
Friday, November 27, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
filmakers without borders
So I'm sure you're all dying to hear about our high speed car chase and the machine guns so better late than never and better alive than dead. Where do we start?
We were in Mexico. We swam in the pacific, filmed our first shots, had our car searched in three places, and were chased by dogs. At borders, dogs and men behave differently than they do elsewhere.
The border of Mexico and Guatemala is seperated by a river and a bridge and is a magical place called Guatmex. Guatmex has a lot of employees. Maybe 200. They all want to help you cross the border and practically lay down in front of your car to get you to stop. All of them have very nice badges that look like press passes and are lamenated. They're insistant, persistant, and they like Pearl Jam. If you've ever left your car door open for five minutes and every fly in the vacinity enters you might have a slight understanding of what these guys are like.
We finally acquiesed to one man's english pleading to let him help us get through this experience. I am used to people working for tips in such situations so I consented to accepting his help. First, we went to the Mexican passport office and had all three of our passports stamped with only myself and this Pearl Jam lover present. We then had to cross the bridge, the geographical border, and Pearl Jam wanted to ride with us but we did not let him so he walked on the driver side. A man dressed as a sherrif that looked like Wilfred Brimley charged us 5 quetzals to cross.
The next step was much the same where me and Pearl Jam got all of our entry stamps taken care of and then began working on our car permit. I was told that this would cost 20 Quetzals a day and since we were staying 70 days this would be 1400 Quetzals or about 160 U.S. dollars. Thats about would our Mexican permit cost, so why not?
Pearl Jam wanted my passport, drivers liscence, and registration to go by himself and take care off everything for me. I'm dumb, but not stupid, so a no go there. He also wanted us to park in a gated parking lot while all this happened but we also refused. Some things that seem convienent are obiously not. Anyway, we finally get all the paper work taken care of and drive into the line of cars crossing the border. We are the only car not towing another car. A little weird. I ask why other cars are driving through on the other side and he says they're not supposed to, but I am smart enough to check with the border guard and make sure we're not in a line to sell our car in Guatemala.
So, to this point, we've been rather good at avoiding a scam; until we are supposed to pay the 1400 quetzals at the bank at the end. They only except quetzals, not pesos, and don't take credit cards. Weird. Pearl Jam says thats OK and we can follow him and his buddy 10 miles up the road and take care of it at a bank where they live. Would you do that? Would we do that? Who would do that?
The decision is we tell him we don't need his help anymore and we'll take care of it from there. He says thats not possible, he's vouched for us, and has to make sure the payment and reciept are taken care of. This ends in a ten minute argument where no matter what we say he and his friend are going to follow us on their motorbike. We have a car. We will win.
We follow them for several miles, look at the map, acess an escape plan, and let several other cars pass us to create a larger divide between us and them.
As we're driving I realize that the bill we are supposed to pay is not only not to the government, but a deposit slip to Francisco Cordobo in BanRural which is a major bank here. Not gonna do it. So, at the fork in the road they go left and we go right. Fast!
Many problems occur here. There are speed bumps taller than our car, dogs in the road, children in the road, and cars coming at us in our lane. Long story already but to make it shorter they actually catch us on their moped, pull in front of us, and stop our car. Bummer. Plus they caught up to us in the rain. We were nervous before, but now we are all shitting our pants. PJ says looks pissed. Comes up to our car and is all what the f and we're all what the f and everything is f'd.
Fortunately a cop car comes by and we stop it. These are the guys with machine guns. One police officer that must be 17 years old holding a shotgun and an older guy in fatigues that is presumably a member of the Guatemelan military with an SKS assault rifle 10 feet away. Later we'd notice that there were 3 more like him around the perimeter of our car. Not speaking good Spanish is a disadvantage here. Not speaking good english is another disadvantage. Finally after much pleading and showing the officer that what were supposed to do is obviously unjust the officer descides that we should definately pay the guy but not nessicarily what he's asking. Forgot to mention that we gave the bike riders three hundred pasos as a tip when they stopped in front of us to make everything cool.
With only pesos and no quetzals, I ask the officer if he could accompany us with these banditos to the bank, but he replies that he has two corpses in back of his truck with their throats slit open so he can not.
Fortunatly, Rafael has a U.S. one hundred dollar bill given to him by his aunt a week before for, "just in emergencies," that we negotiate our way out of this situation with. The armed coppers agree, (they probably took a cut), we all shake hands, and the deal is done.
Its now almost dark, we have to figure out how to get back on the actual road, and drive three hours to Xela over one of the craziest mountain passes I've ever been on. Could it get worse? Dogs, children, and a complete white out of fog on the road is the answer. Finally we make it, get a room, and have a drink. Fin.
john
We were in Mexico. We swam in the pacific, filmed our first shots, had our car searched in three places, and were chased by dogs. At borders, dogs and men behave differently than they do elsewhere.
The border of Mexico and Guatemala is seperated by a river and a bridge and is a magical place called Guatmex. Guatmex has a lot of employees. Maybe 200. They all want to help you cross the border and practically lay down in front of your car to get you to stop. All of them have very nice badges that look like press passes and are lamenated. They're insistant, persistant, and they like Pearl Jam. If you've ever left your car door open for five minutes and every fly in the vacinity enters you might have a slight understanding of what these guys are like.
We finally acquiesed to one man's english pleading to let him help us get through this experience. I am used to people working for tips in such situations so I consented to accepting his help. First, we went to the Mexican passport office and had all three of our passports stamped with only myself and this Pearl Jam lover present. We then had to cross the bridge, the geographical border, and Pearl Jam wanted to ride with us but we did not let him so he walked on the driver side. A man dressed as a sherrif that looked like Wilfred Brimley charged us 5 quetzals to cross.
The next step was much the same where me and Pearl Jam got all of our entry stamps taken care of and then began working on our car permit. I was told that this would cost 20 Quetzals a day and since we were staying 70 days this would be 1400 Quetzals or about 160 U.S. dollars. Thats about would our Mexican permit cost, so why not?
Pearl Jam wanted my passport, drivers liscence, and registration to go by himself and take care off everything for me. I'm dumb, but not stupid, so a no go there. He also wanted us to park in a gated parking lot while all this happened but we also refused. Some things that seem convienent are obiously not. Anyway, we finally get all the paper work taken care of and drive into the line of cars crossing the border. We are the only car not towing another car. A little weird. I ask why other cars are driving through on the other side and he says they're not supposed to, but I am smart enough to check with the border guard and make sure we're not in a line to sell our car in Guatemala.
So, to this point, we've been rather good at avoiding a scam; until we are supposed to pay the 1400 quetzals at the bank at the end. They only except quetzals, not pesos, and don't take credit cards. Weird. Pearl Jam says thats OK and we can follow him and his buddy 10 miles up the road and take care of it at a bank where they live. Would you do that? Would we do that? Who would do that?
The decision is we tell him we don't need his help anymore and we'll take care of it from there. He says thats not possible, he's vouched for us, and has to make sure the payment and reciept are taken care of. This ends in a ten minute argument where no matter what we say he and his friend are going to follow us on their motorbike. We have a car. We will win.
We follow them for several miles, look at the map, acess an escape plan, and let several other cars pass us to create a larger divide between us and them.
As we're driving I realize that the bill we are supposed to pay is not only not to the government, but a deposit slip to Francisco Cordobo in BanRural which is a major bank here. Not gonna do it. So, at the fork in the road they go left and we go right. Fast!
Many problems occur here. There are speed bumps taller than our car, dogs in the road, children in the road, and cars coming at us in our lane. Long story already but to make it shorter they actually catch us on their moped, pull in front of us, and stop our car. Bummer. Plus they caught up to us in the rain. We were nervous before, but now we are all shitting our pants. PJ says looks pissed. Comes up to our car and is all what the f and we're all what the f and everything is f'd.
Fortunately a cop car comes by and we stop it. These are the guys with machine guns. One police officer that must be 17 years old holding a shotgun and an older guy in fatigues that is presumably a member of the Guatemelan military with an SKS assault rifle 10 feet away. Later we'd notice that there were 3 more like him around the perimeter of our car. Not speaking good Spanish is a disadvantage here. Not speaking good english is another disadvantage. Finally after much pleading and showing the officer that what were supposed to do is obviously unjust the officer descides that we should definately pay the guy but not nessicarily what he's asking. Forgot to mention that we gave the bike riders three hundred pasos as a tip when they stopped in front of us to make everything cool.
With only pesos and no quetzals, I ask the officer if he could accompany us with these banditos to the bank, but he replies that he has two corpses in back of his truck with their throats slit open so he can not.
Fortunatly, Rafael has a U.S. one hundred dollar bill given to him by his aunt a week before for, "just in emergencies," that we negotiate our way out of this situation with. The armed coppers agree, (they probably took a cut), we all shake hands, and the deal is done.
Its now almost dark, we have to figure out how to get back on the actual road, and drive three hours to Xela over one of the craziest mountain passes I've ever been on. Could it get worse? Dogs, children, and a complete white out of fog on the road is the answer. Finally we make it, get a room, and have a drink. Fin.
john
i saw an albino guatemalan lady wrapped in a confederate flag
here's a grip of photos from guatemala:
GuatMex
GuatMex
Monday, November 16, 2009
Me llamo Rafael
We tried to set up an audio recording of our adventures at the border, but there was a technical problem. So it will have to wait until another time. Some things can’t be rushed. Until then…..
Once we are safely inside Guatemala, things are great!
Xela (Quetzaltenango), GUAT
We spend about a week here, I guess. Aside from the abundance of hippie douchebags, a beautiful town. People are friendly. Streets are safe. John mentioned some shooting we do in town. It feels god to get some footage in the can. I’m definitely looking forward to coming back to shoot the “Natural” History Museum. Weird shit. We stay at a kind-of backpacker’s hostel that features a talkative parrot.
And the street food is great here. All kinds of tostada and tortas. When you order a hotdog, you get a free cup of Orange Crush!
There are some beautiful hot springs up the side of one of the many local volcanoes. The ride there is fantastic. From town, we take a “chicken bus”, which is an old American school bus painted and bedazzled like a Vegas showgirl. To get up the hill itself, we catch a “Pickup”, a small Toyota truck with up to 10 Guatemalans and as many Machetes crammed in the bed. This won’t be the last time we travel by either method.
I make a friend at a local bar and she takes me to an after-party at another club. At 3:30am, two cops (who in Guatemala all look like SWAT team members) come in and question the bartender. He takes a license off the wall and walks out side. Five minutes later, the bartender comes back with a scowl on his face, grabs a fistful of cash from the till and goes back outside. The party doesn’t stop, but they do try to up-sell everyone on the larger beers. So to answer your question Doug, yes, there is L&I in Guatemala.
My Spanish is getting just a little better, but also occasionally useless when dealing when indigenous locals who speak Quiche or Tule. So I’ve learned to become very creative with hand gestures.
We also discover the local liquor, an Aguardiente called “Quetzalteca Especial”. Tastes like moonshine and cheap as dirt. And of course it goes well with Guatemalan beer, our regular being Gallo.
We also plan several shoots for the next weeks. Looking forward to it.
Max and Ana Paula meet up with us here in town. I can already tell they’re going to be a blast.
Chichicastenenga, GUAT
We did some great shooting at the outdoor market here, but I’m learning that hamburgers are not a reason why anyone should come to this otherwise great country.
San Pedro, GUAT
So it seems like we’ll be here or nearby for several weeks. There is plenty to discover in this beautiful lakeside town. Firstly, that the lake is actually dangerously polluted by a new bacteria. I’m not sure how, but I am sure this will play into the film. We are somewhat stable in a nice home here and the internet is readily available, so I would like to think there will be more updates to this blog, including pictures.
Hasta Luego-
Once we are safely inside Guatemala, things are great!
Xela (Quetzaltenango), GUAT
We spend about a week here, I guess. Aside from the abundance of hippie douchebags, a beautiful town. People are friendly. Streets are safe. John mentioned some shooting we do in town. It feels god to get some footage in the can. I’m definitely looking forward to coming back to shoot the “Natural” History Museum. Weird shit. We stay at a kind-of backpacker’s hostel that features a talkative parrot.
And the street food is great here. All kinds of tostada and tortas. When you order a hotdog, you get a free cup of Orange Crush!
There are some beautiful hot springs up the side of one of the many local volcanoes. The ride there is fantastic. From town, we take a “chicken bus”, which is an old American school bus painted and bedazzled like a Vegas showgirl. To get up the hill itself, we catch a “Pickup”, a small Toyota truck with up to 10 Guatemalans and as many Machetes crammed in the bed. This won’t be the last time we travel by either method.
I make a friend at a local bar and she takes me to an after-party at another club. At 3:30am, two cops (who in Guatemala all look like SWAT team members) come in and question the bartender. He takes a license off the wall and walks out side. Five minutes later, the bartender comes back with a scowl on his face, grabs a fistful of cash from the till and goes back outside. The party doesn’t stop, but they do try to up-sell everyone on the larger beers. So to answer your question Doug, yes, there is L&I in Guatemala.
My Spanish is getting just a little better, but also occasionally useless when dealing when indigenous locals who speak Quiche or Tule. So I’ve learned to become very creative with hand gestures.
We also discover the local liquor, an Aguardiente called “Quetzalteca Especial”. Tastes like moonshine and cheap as dirt. And of course it goes well with Guatemalan beer, our regular being Gallo.
We also plan several shoots for the next weeks. Looking forward to it.
Max and Ana Paula meet up with us here in town. I can already tell they’re going to be a blast.
Chichicastenenga, GUAT
We did some great shooting at the outdoor market here, but I’m learning that hamburgers are not a reason why anyone should come to this otherwise great country.
San Pedro, GUAT
So it seems like we’ll be here or nearby for several weeks. There is plenty to discover in this beautiful lakeside town. Firstly, that the lake is actually dangerously polluted by a new bacteria. I’m not sure how, but I am sure this will play into the film. We are somewhat stable in a nice home here and the internet is readily available, so I would like to think there will be more updates to this blog, including pictures.
Hasta Luego-
Friday, November 13, 2009
Guatemala so far
Ok, we´re holding off a little bit on the border chase because we haven´t had much time to make it sound as good as it was. Therefore I´m going to skip that for now and fastforward to Xela. We had a lot of good things happen there so far. We filmed some Mariachis on a roof top and hired a bicycle with a cart on the front to use as a dolly and drive Zafer through the cemetary. We also were joined by our friends max and Paula Ana from D.F. We left with them and headed to Chichicastenango and interviewed our first Mayan spirtual guide named Miguel. He talked a lot about 2012 and the changes they expect to come. I won´t disclose any information about content here because you´ll have to watch the film of course but it went well for sure. The market was also very beautiful and we captured some good footage and now me, Daniel, and Max all have native garb to try and fit in while we´re here and make locals feel more at ease while being filmed and talking to us. Finally we are in San Pedro La Laguna which sadly has become very polluted and the lake has become unsafe for swimming. This is quite sad to me as it has always been one of the most beautiful and charming parts of the country. The lake smells like shit now. We´re interviewing some men in hazmat suits tomorrow to find out more as well as our second spiritual guide Pedro Cruz. Today we changed oil in the car (when I say we I mean Zafer who is now called Rafael)and detected a bad gasget on the rear axel of the car which we have to get replaced on Monday. We´re supposed to be back in Xela filming the museum that day which I´m very excited about so hopefully we can reschedule or rent a car.
I´m going to keep this short for now as the t button is broken and keeps sticking constanly writting tttttt´s which I am constantly fighting to erase.
At least this keeps everyone up to date.
Until next time hopefully full of car chases and adventure
John
I´m going to keep this short for now as the t button is broken and keeps sticking constanly writting tttttt´s which I am constantly fighting to erase.
At least this keeps everyone up to date.
Until next time hopefully full of car chases and adventure
John
Saturday, November 7, 2009
The road to here.
Oakland, CA
We leave. Finally. We fixed the van. Buy some shit. Drank some stuff. Drank too much at the Command Center. High winds on the Grapevine!
We leave. Finally. We fixed the van. Buy some shit. Drank some stuff. Drank too much at the Command Center. High winds on the Grapevine!
Los Angeles, CA
Not as much traffic as we thought there’d be. Ate burritos and drank Tecate to prepare for Mexico . Next morning, friend of the guy we stayed with told us a story. Mexican guy was in prison and got into fight. He got stabbed. Stabbed to death. Apparently, his last words were, “You made me miss 2012.” Weird.
Drove through sandstorm in AZ and NM. More crazy, gusty winds. I have a feeling it’s going to be a theme on this trip. Mazda is holding up.
Austin, TX
Met up with some old friends. Ate some barbecue—likely the last of the proper American food on this trip for a long while. We spent a lot of time securing the car. Used Liquid Nails to glue the license plate to the car because we were told the Federales like to take them for ransom. Also, we have a huge box on top of the car that is now held in place with 6 padlocks. We feel safer.
Went to a softball game in a park, heckled some folks, drank some Lone Star. Good times.
Laredo, TX
We decided to stay the night on the US side of the border. Used proper internet service. Had a good, American shower, watched Curb Your Enthusiasm on the laptop. Drank California wine. Definitely saw the best hotel ever. Super old, giant rooms, only spoke Spanish. Only problem was no wi-fi so we had to Super 8 it.
Nuevo Laredo, MEX
Crossed the border. No problems at all in dealing with either the American or Mexican Imigration Officials. Immediately chased by Mexicans who wanted to help us with our immigration papers. Got through the red tape all on our own. We felt strong. A fading feeling.
Unkown City, MEX
Drove for miles through the desert. Though we were driving on the “toll” road, on what we supposed was the major Mexican highway system, there were sections where we were waved through detours that involved driving through piles of dirt and rubble. It’s clear we’re in a foreign country now.
Ate 7 tacos. At the hotel, we watched the only TV available—a scrambled cable broadcast of “Kill Bill Pt. 1”. Also, more Tecate.
Next morning, we installed a power inverter in the van while the locals slaughtered a pig and changed a tire on a truck. By locals, we mean 13-year old kids.
Leaving here, we passed at least 5 miles of desert that were populated by Indians selling snake skins on the side of the road. We plan on buying some on the way back.
Mexico City (D.F.), MEX
Met up with friends. Stayed at a beautiful hotel in a cool part of town. It’s a huge city and we definitely got the impression that we’d never see it all in the short time we had there. But we had some good times there. Went to a party on the rooftop of a fancy hotel sponsored by Bacardi. It was a Halloween party. We went as ZZ Top. (see pics) We definitely got that “Who are these guys and how did they get in?” look we are all too familiar with. Later, we crammed 9 people into a Toyota taxi cab and went to a house party. Much better there. Made more friends.
Also, there was great TV in the hotel. Hardcore pornography and our new favorite channel, “De Pelicula”—all Mexican movies, all the time.
Ate 15 more Tacos Al Pastor.
Did some test shooting with the camera, finally. It seems to work.
Our friends, Max and Paula will hopefully be joining us in Guatemala soon.
Oaxaca, MEX
The road to Oaxaca was the first of many truly heroic drives. We are learning more Spanish now. Apparently, “No Pase, Curva Peligrosa” means “Drive as Fast as Possible around huge buses on blind turns.”
Beautiful city. First night we arrived was 11/2—a date significant to the Day of the Dead celebrations. At the foot of one of the many historic churches there, we walked in on the end of some kind of show that involved fireworks and dancing zombies. Cool stuff. Next day, we found some great music at a local store. They sold exclusively unlabeled DVD-Rs with photocopied cases. Cherengue rules!
Being that it is Mezcal country, we felt obligated to drink the local booze. Tried the expensive stuff. Still cheap for us Americanos. But the next day, I went to a Mezcal shop and asked for something that was made “aqui”. Guy pulled a plastic jug out from behind the counter. It was covered in grease and had the word “Especial” written in magic marker; he said it was his own “producto”. He poured it into a used, half liter water bottle. It was delicious.
I got a haircut and proper shave from an old-fashioned barber. One of the best I’ve had.
Dan says the lady at the hotel was a prostitute. I believe him.
Lots of VW beetles here in Mexico. Guy at the hotel was really into his. Must have been every five minutes he was coming out to check on it. It did make us feel better about leaving our own car outside.
Bought some locally made chocolate at the market. A couple days later, when we’d get searched by the Federales, one officer would find it and agree that it is delicious.
First night we arrived we couldn’t find a bar. The next morning while walking to find breakfast we found multiple bars open and full of patrons. It was clear that drinkers get started early and end early.
While Dan was driving, he exclaimed “that car is driving sideways!” He later explained that there was a car in oncoming traffic that must have had the rear axle broken, so they set the wheels in a forward direction, and had to steer the front of the vehicle sideways, so that the body of the car was actually travelling at least 15 or 20 degrees off of center.
Driving out of town the roads are getting crazier. The turns are getting sharper, the roads narrower, the drivers more fearless.
Mexcal farms everywhere. And factories too. In Mexico, a Mezcal factory is generally 3 piles of bricks and a piece of tin overhead. We have to come back and taste more of this stuff.
Puerto Paloma, MEX
One thing we forgot to mention is that not driving at night in Mexico is highly recommended by anyone who has ever done so, drawn a map, or written a book on the subject. We learned this lesson a few times on our own. This time we decided that any beach town was a good town and drove down a 5 mile road (no pavement with lots of pot holes and dogs) to nowhere. This wasn’t supposed to happen after dark but since we were thoroughly searched by the Federales twice we had no choice. This town was too real. We had to turn around and drive back tormented by ideas that every car we passed was going to stop and kill us. We no longer qualify for a No Fear bumper sticker.
Puerto Arista, MEX
Getting here was a hell of a trip.
Swam in the Pacific Ocean this morning. Beautiful.
Dan finally figured out what that banging sound in the back of the van was. Only took ten days. You figure it out.
Coming Up Next:
The border crossing from southern Chiapas into Guatemala. A scam. A high speed car chase. And us surrounded by machine guns.
-Zafer
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
comenzar
So,
where to start. The beggining? Maybe in this case the end. Earlier in the year I travelled through Mexico and Guatemala and started hearing about people waiting in the jungle or near pyramids expecting something to happen, maybe even specifically in this region, in the year 2012. What are they expecting? I could make some guesses as to this, read a book, or type 2012 in google as the billboards are suggesting, but instead I thought it best to find and ask them. So now I'm driving to Guatemala from California with a cameraman (Zafer Ulkucu) and a sound recordist (Daniel "dan"Abell) to make a film. As this is my first film and first blog and we're driving across some insane terrain this could go a number of ways. From disaster to success, fame and fortune to starving and broken, soaring down the freeways to tumbling down a mountain side. The world could end. I'll leave it at that for now.
Until next time amigos.
John
where to start. The beggining? Maybe in this case the end. Earlier in the year I travelled through Mexico and Guatemala and started hearing about people waiting in the jungle or near pyramids expecting something to happen, maybe even specifically in this region, in the year 2012. What are they expecting? I could make some guesses as to this, read a book, or type 2012 in google as the billboards are suggesting, but instead I thought it best to find and ask them. So now I'm driving to Guatemala from California with a cameraman (Zafer Ulkucu) and a sound recordist (Daniel "dan"Abell) to make a film. As this is my first film and first blog and we're driving across some insane terrain this could go a number of ways. From disaster to success, fame and fortune to starving and broken, soaring down the freeways to tumbling down a mountain side. The world could end. I'll leave it at that for now.
Until next time amigos.
John
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