4/15/14
Guatemala City, Guatemala
People like to say that travel changes the way you see the world, and,
having travelled extensively, I can say it is bullshit, hackneyed cliché. Travel doesn’t change the way you see the
world. People who travel like I do do so
because they see the world in a different, because they know that the world has
more to fofer than the sheltered lives they live at home. They travel because they want to experience
these new cultures. Anyone with half a
brain knows that people around the world are different in many ways. People who continue to live their sheltered
lives choose to look down on those other cultures. People who travel the way I do (going on a
tour group to China or wherever and oohing and and aahing with a herd of
people at the exotic culture your guide shows you does not count), do so
because they respect these cultures, because they want to compare and contrast
these foreign cultures to one another and to their own. You don’t go to a beach in the Caribbean or
walk the Great Wall because you want to experience new cultures. Anyone who comes back from Antigua thinking
only of the quaintness of the islanders and the clarity of the turquoise waters
has missed the point. Anyone who goes on
a cruise and spends more time at sea than on land cannot claim to experience
any new cultures. Do the people who got
off the port in Basseterre realize how bad the roads on the rest of the island
are compared to the few that are near the cruise terminal? Do the people who arrive at Roseau and see a
thriving city alive with people realize how dead the island is once they leave
or if there is no ship that day? I think
the most important thing to learn about different cultures is what they
value. Different people and different
cultures have different values. The
theme of tonight’s entry will be primary values.
I spoke of one of my primary values last
night, and I will speak of another one tonight: achievement of my desires. Other people may value differently privacy,
security, religion, charity, education, any number of primary values, and
rational men may disagree about those values.
However, there is one thing that completely kills any rational
discussion of value: force. No man may
initiate the use of force against another man.
When you kill someone because they disagree on your religious values,
you no longer have the right to any values, to anything, not even to your own
life. I have spent a lot of time the
past year in the Muslim word, and I understand the emphasis they put on
religion. That’s great. They can believe whatever they want, but they
also have an obligation to let other people believe how they choose. So too in Central America and the Caribbean
is there a strong emphasis on religion, but you never hear a story about a
Guatemalan killing someone for practicing the wrong type of Catholicism, do
you? Having arrived in El Salvador
during Easter week, I will be making my rounds of these 4 countries, leading up
to spending Easter in San Salvador. Last
Easter, I had a magical Easter in the Caribbean, and I expect the one in San
Salvador to be just as wonderful. It was
clear practically immediately upon landing just how important this holiday is
to these people.
I had been upgraded to
first class due to my Star Alliance (United) status and got the best seat on the
plane: 1A. I was the first one on and
the first on off. The seat next to me
was empty as well. As soon as I got on
the plane, I put my eye mask on and my feet up and went to sleep, trying to catch
up after getting less than three hours of sleep. It was a mad rush to get to the airport, and
I didn’t even do my printouts right. As
I pulled into MIA, the one song came on that would have made me considered
risking it with the check-in time: Sk8er Boi.
Instead, I blasted the music and sang along as I unloaded the car. My father said in his response to Sunday
night’s entry something to the effect of that it was good to air out those
painful memories. I thought about and
realized that the memories were not at all painful. Sure, they were memories of a painful time,
but I got over it by the end of the summer.
That didn’t mean I didn’t still want my little Sk8er Boi fantasy, which
I did get in the end. As I mentioned, I
have been travelling the world for the past 2 years and helping to create
wealth with my capacity to think. She is
working customer service at JetBlue (the irony), which is as far as her limited
capacity to think can take her. I won
that battle. I got my wish. It is a very happy memory. I have become the kind of person that could
never be attracted in any way to a gorgeous ditz. She’s still probably chasing after the
Michael Zombak’s of the world. Okay,
maybe I’m a little vindictive about it, but there is no pain there.
To continue where our story left off, I
looked at my watch and saw that it was fast approaching 9AM EDT. Wait, that meant that it was 8AM CDT. My flight was supposed to land at 7:35
AM. What was happening? I wasn’t yet on a time crunch, since I wanted
to go to the San Salvadoran souvenir market first, and they didn’t open until
possibly 10AM. It turned out that San
Salvador was actually 2 hours behind Miami, which meant that I would be getting
2 hours of sleep on the plane, not 1, which made all the difference in the
world. It allowed me to arrive in San
Salvador refreshed and ready to take on the world. I stopped for cigars at a couple of different
places along the way, getting a three-pack of Trinidads, and 2 boxes, Cohiba
Siglo #2 to serve as the Cigar of the Trip, and Hoyo de Monterrey, since I hadn’t
had a box of those in 6 months. The
Cigar of the Trip is a very special cigar, and it was fitting to choose Cohiba
Siglo #2 as the Cigar of the Trip for such a special trip, since it is my
favorite cigar in the world and since I bought my first box of them the first
time I went to Mexico on my own.
Typically, as a rule, I do not smoke the same cigar on consecutive days,
but I make one conscious exception to that rule. The first full box of cigars I buy during a
trip, if bought before or during Day 1, can be considered the Cigar of the
Trip. It is a cigar that I can smoke
every day during the trip, and I have recently started using it for the first
WHS of each day of the trip. It is done
like this by design so that, when I bring the box home, I will be reminded of
that trip each time I smoke one of those cigars. If this trip is a success, what could be a
better memory while I smoke my favorite cigar in the world?
Immigration took forever, and I saw the car
rental place, followed by some doors that kept out the well-wishers. I was quite sure that it would be a problem
getting in once I left that area, but I also knew that I wanted my guide with
me for the rental process so that I got everything I needed. I walked out the doors and was instantly
accosted by people asking if I needed a ride.
That was when I heard my name. It
was a bright, cheerful, young man, completely different from what I
expected. This was Fernando, my trusty
guide, who would, for better or worse, be my boon companion for the next 6
days. We tried to walk back to the
rental car counter but were stopped by the police. Fortunately, Fernando was familiar with the
process, and he waved over to the agent who came to take care of
everything. Meanwhile, I had one of the
best cups of coffee of my life. It was
just a cup of what the workers were drinking at Pizza Hut, but it was so
good. Apparently, El Salvador knows its
coffee.
After Fernando took care of
everything with the car for me (all I had to do was pay and sign), we went to
the car. When I got in the car, I saw the
last thing I expected: an actual ashtray and a working cigarette lighter. I was so shocked. I immediately lit up my Davidoff Nic Toro,
considering this to be a separate trip from the Florida portion. We were on our way, chatting about our lives
and various things. I was fascinated by
this man, only a few years older than I.
He was pushing 30, and I am sure he had no such list of travel goals,
but here was clearly a man who loved and enjoyed his life. As the day wore on, the conversation died
down, and we still have five more full days to go. Other than Stuart and my family, I have never
spent so much time with someone for so long.
We are going to be travelling together, driving together, and even
staying in the same hotel rooms. It’s a
good thing I like him.
Our first stop
was the souvenir market, where I loaded up on all the El Salvador souvenirs I
needed. We probably had enough time to
stop at the legislature, as well, which would have allowed me to say “El
Salvador Complete,” but I constantly decided against. Just as I have a vision of smoking some
ridiculously expensive Cuban on September 12, 2017, saying “U.S. Complete” and
some other miraculous string of Completes, I also have a vision of smoking my
last Bolivar on April 20, 2014 (Easter) in front of the El Salvador Assembly,
saying “CA-4 Complete.” That vision does
not hold as much water on April 19, 2014 in front of some Nicaraguan
cathedral.
I decided that we would go
straight to the archaeological site of Joya de Ceren, but I was starving, and
we stopped right before we got there at a roadside stand. I got some crisp-fried chicken, along with a
local beer. The chicken was delicious,
and the beer was good enough, though I only drank half of it and just wanted it
for the cap. They also brought me a pupusa,
which was practically pure carbs, but it was the national food of El Salvador,
so I had a few bites just to say I tried it.
The price for this meal? Less
than a bagel with cream cheese at Zucker’s.
Joya de Ceren was a mini Pompeii, a well-preserved pre-Columbian city
that was covered by a volcano. We took
pictures with the plaques and then proceeded to walk around the uncovered
houses. After we passed the first
security guard, I lit up my Cohiba, figuring that the sites were technically
outdoors. No one stopped me. While it was interesting, I wanted to get a move
on and keep going. Once we found the
spot to take the nomination photo, I decided it was time to get a souvenir and
move on.
After I finished the Cohiba, I
fell asleep on the way to border.
Fernando woke me up right before the border, which took some time, but
it was simple enough. It took far more
time to leave El Salvador than to enter Guatemala. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed
that I did not get a Guatemalan stamp in my passport, but I’m leaning towards
relieved. I lit up Garcia My Father
cigar. Since I have spent a great deal
of this trip thinking about my father, it was slightly ironic that I did not
think of my father during the smoke. I
asked Fernando what the national dish of Guatemala was. He said it was something called guachitos. I suggested that we stop at the next place
that had them. We found ourselves in
this bustling town, fresh in the middle of traffic jam. I went to get my gauchito, which is basically
a hamburger. I said no bread, and she
just said no. I went back to look for
Fernando, thinking they didn’t have them.
He talked to her, and she was just refusing to serve it to me without
bread. I thought maybe they didn’t have
plates and had no way to wrap it up without bread. Fernando told me to just throw out the bread. It seemed so stupid, but I agreed. She put my gauchito on a plate. I took the bread right back on the
counter. That could not have been easier
for her. I used a napkin to hold the guachito,
which came with an egg and cheese, and managed to eat it. During this whole process, my cigar had gone
out, and I hadn’t brought my lighter, so I relit it when I got to the car. Once I finished it, I programmed the GPS for
the next 48 hours and took another nap, more exhausted from the heat than lack
of sleep at this point. It should have
been about 45 minutes to our next stop.
I woke up 45 minutes later, and we still weren’t there. I asked if we had hit some bad traffic, but
Fernando said that it was the police checkpoints. Over the course of the highway, there are
dozens (hundreds) of police checkpoints, which use cones to reduce the two
lanes to one for a few meters. We were
never stopped, but the merging caused us to constantly slow down. It also causes a bottleneck. That was what delayed us, but we were pretty
good on time. After we finished in
Antigua Guatemala, there were just two things that needed to be done, both
before 6PM, both right next to each other: the Guatemalan legislature and the
souvenir market. We arrived in Antigua
Guatemala at 3:45 PM, and the drive to Guatemala city shouldn’t have taken more
the 45 minutes, tops. We arrived,
parking in a makeshift parking lot with the same kind of “attendants” that they
had in Panama. Fernando was telling me
all these things to see in town. I
pulled out a small Romeo y Julieta and told him that I didn’t want to stay
longer than it took for me to finish that cigar (about 30 minutes). I walked into a little coffee shop I saw and
asked for cheese, which was local and excellent, along with an espresso, also
great. There is a lot to be said about
local food. It’s always good, even when
it’s bad. Fernando said that the
attendants wanted a parking fee, which I gladly supplied, the price being so
nominal. I also got Fernando an
espresso. The price for the two
espressos and quarter pound of premium cheese?
About the same as a fancy cappuccino at Starbuck’s. My cigar is almost done, so I will pause and
move inside.
I lit up my Romeo on our way to the arch, which formed the main part
of Antigua Guatemala and was the location of the nomination photo. It was just a yellow arch over a bustling
avenue, but by the virtue of that one picture on the WHC page, it meant everything. We took some pictures and then proceeded to
the souvenir market, which was huge, possibly unlike anything I had ever seen,
but it was mostly crafts, so I had trouble finding something that would work as
my official WHS souvenir. I got a
t-shirt, a pound of coffee, gifts for the ladies, two magnets, and a keychain. The total price? About what I would have paid for a t-shirt
and a keychain in a western European capital.
We walked back towards the car, taking a slightly different route, since
I had budgeted an extra 15 minutes. I
found another souvenir market, but it didn’t look right, either. I have come to be able to instantly appraise
a souvenir stand and see if it has anything thing that I need. It is a useful skill since it not only saves
times but also allows me to avoid being accosted by vendors. I did not find anything until I was walking
out, and an unlit case in a distant corner caught my eye. I walked over to it and saw that it was not a
mirage. There was a replica of some of
the houses of Antigua Guatemala. It wasn’t
quite the perfect souvenir, but it fit the bill. We headed back to the car, right on
schedule.
We had an estimated arrival
time at the legislature of about 5:15 PM, which would have been perfect. Unfortunately, we hit some bad traffic
getting into the city, and we were now facing a time crunch. By the time we found the right side of the
legislature building to match the picture I had found, it was 5:40 PM. Fortunately the souvenir market was nearby,
but it was tight. To make matters worse,
it was very difficult to get a good picture, since we needed to stand on the
opposite side of the street, and the view was constantly blocked by
busses. We got the photo and raced over
to the souvenir market, where I was once again fawned over by every
vendor. I held my ground, only buying
what I wanted, including the all-important flag pin, some keychains, and a
couple of t-shirts. The total cost was
about the same as what I spent at the market in Antigua Guatemala. We were done for the day. All that remained was to get to the hotel,
eat, write this entry, and get to sleep, since we had to be up at 4AM to have enough
time at our destination tomorrow. I
would be doing the first shift of the driving since Fernando did all the
driving today, which was fine by me. 4
hours of driving on 8 hours of sleep is like a cake walk to me. Of course, it will probably be more like 6
hours of driving on 6 hours of sleep, but that’s also fine by me, especially
with cigars and company.
We hit some bad
traffic on the way to the hotel and had some difficulty parking. My debit card also got rejected for the
deposit, despite having plenty in the bank.
The first thing we did when we got to the room was to order room
service, since we were both hungry and had no desire to go anywhere. The prices were right, and it was a nice
selection. I ordered the ceviche and the
duck, which will forever remind me of Grace.
It is such a shame that things did not work out with her, since we have
such similar values. If only I had been
more mature when I had the duck on that fateful evening last year. While we waited, Fernando went to chat with
his girlfriend, and I uploaded my photos to Facebook and sorted things out with
Citibank. They thought my card was
stolen. It wasn’t stolen the past 10
times they blocked it for being used in a foreign country. Why would it be stolen this time? I got them to unblock it. Fernando got back well before the food did,
and, at 8PM, we called room service to check on our order. He spoke with them and I went outside to see
if maybe they had just left. Just as I
opened the door, there was the guy with our food. The ceviche was not to my liking, and the
duck was overcooked. The spinach was actually
the best part. I finished my meal, lit
up my Hoyo de Monterrey, which I had been considering making my Travelogue
cigar of the trip, but it was try, cracked, and plugged. I will probably go back to Avos for that
purpose. I then proceeded to write this
entry, which I will now close so that I can publish it and get some sleep.
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