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Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Turns out there are no saints.

I'm pretty much completely out of the loop for the next week and a half because I am at the school's mountain location just outside of a small town called Colomba. Being here is a sad reminder to me that back in my real life, I never actually relax. Jessica: when I get back we have to talk to Robyn about setting up hammocks.

Spent the last half of last week not actually attending school because there wasn't room for me in Xela and I gave my mountain spot away. This is why I went to the lake. Lago Atitlan is beautiful, but here's a secret: just as San Pedro is way more horrible than people tell you, Panajachel didn't seem nearly as bad as people say during the brief time that I waited for a bus there. Ended up getting to Xela via a transfer in Los Encuentros, which I got to via transfer in Solola. I've heard San Marcos is "creepy," but since I saw a bunch of hippies juggling at the boat launch, I didn't stop there to find out. Santa Cruz is very nice, and there is a very cool little women's co-op restaurant up in the actual town where the actual people live.

I think I mentioned that I kayaked out on the lake from San Pedro. Kayaking is a lot of work, and I don't think I ever realized that it's actually a lot slower than walking. It was sort of a bad weather day, so I was literally the only person on the lake, and the water was warmer than the air, and it was wonderful. I went swimming for the first time in forever when I was there. Two days ago after class I took the first nap I can remember in months. I'm never coming home.

I took a pickup truck from my bus to San Pedro last week. The state of California robbed me of my sovereign right to ride in the back of pickup trucks sometime in the 1980's, and now I am taking every opportunity to right this wrong. Riding in the back of a pickup truck is the finest method of transportation in this or probably any country. Our truck driver from the mountain school into Colomba is a drug dealer here. I think it is so bizarre that I left Los Angeles only to be trucked around the mountains in an F150 by a member of the 18th Street Gang.

Rick James is playing in the Internet cafe.

In other news, I'm reading a book called Bitter Fruit about the American-staged coup that plunged this country into a 40 year war and genocide and what have you. If you have interest you should check it out, not because the story is surprising but because it's interesting to find out just how horrid the Dulles brothers were. I was distressed to find out that the much-lauded, super awesome Senator Bob LaFollette was involved in convincing Eisenhower to give the ok to the coup. It's weird because as far as I know, the Progressive Party really was progressive. I don't know why I would be so bothered since he died before I was born, but I am bothered.

In other news, the mountain school has a huge, heavy "non violent bottle opener" in the shape of Gandhi's face. It's the best thing I've seen ever.

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2 comments:

j said...

i rode three blocks in the back of a pickup truck in december, and it was the most fun i'd had in forever. why, california, why??

would it be wrong to steal the gandhi-head bottle opener?

if yes, at least take a photo, for the love of pete!

pickleandcake said...

i have to admit my first thought was also that you should steal it, but i suppose then no other students would share its joy. but pictures, please!

oh steven i am so happy you are there and having an awesome time! i wouldn't blame you if you stayed. naps, pickup rides, swimming and kayaking, coffee.

do you do this here, hayrides? we did in texas sometimes, where you sit in the back of a truck on hay. also my great uncle had a cattle ranch and so we often go to ride in the back of his pickup, and it was ok because we drove slowly through fields of grass where there were no other cars.

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