Puebla, Mexico

Nunca deja de soñar...

Today’s journey brought nine hours of travel and turned it into conversation and understanding.  I woke up this morning in San Cristóbal and tonight I will lay my head down in the beautiful historical city of Puebla, Mexico.  

The future is a very uncertain thing and in this confusion I somehow take a great comfort.. but enough of my esoteric words, rather I wish to tell you that in this moment I’m content with my uncertainty.  You see, earlier today we struggled with a very important choice to make as we weren’t sure which border would be safest for us to cross from Mexico back into USA.  Although we are still days away from the border we must begin making plans to guide our vessel home.  This took us to Puebla.  

Perhaps you’ve e heard of cinco de mayo in college when you took shots of tequila and wore a silly Mexican sombrero but honestly that crap is nonsense here.  The fifth of May represents a great part of Mexico’s history and it’s really wild to believe that we have appropriated their culture to such a degree yet who am I to be surprised when we still celebrate saint Patrick’s Day be getting blindingly drunk with no knowledge of its origin?  To me Puebla represents so much more. Let me explain...

I believe that the manner in which we view a culture not only reflects our knowledge of their history yet it reflects how we see ourselves in the world in general.  Do we see ourselves as alone and vulnerable to the unknown?  Or do we embrace our differences and see ourselves as an integral part of the notion of “culture” in general?  Do we believe what we hear about other countries or do we go see for ourselves that really we aren’t so different after all?

This takes us to Puebla, a city I’ve barely begun to explore.  We came here on a whim that the Matamoros/Brownsville border is currently too dangerous to cross.  This probably isn’t true as thousands of vehicles pass every day but the fear gripped me and I found myself looking into other ports of entry into USA.  (Listen listen what speaks to you? Listen listen you know it’s true..)

Cumbia.. my not so secret love of a musical genre that has barely crossed into the United States.. your 4/4 shuffle has tempted me for years.  I’ll say it, I want to go to Monterrey, Mexico and hear for myself the rhythm that has imported itself from Colombia.  Is this why I have found myself in new paths unexplored? I might not know the answer to that question for several days but for now I know that in this moment I’m happy, content and eager to explore the next chapter of my travels.

Never stop dreaming.

Intrepid traveler

We are not humans having a spiritual journey.... we are spirits having a human journey 🙏

This post begins in the unpronounceable Mexican border town directly across from La Mesilla, Guatemala.  The town’s main road serves as a connection between the two countries and should you find yourself staying here, it would be presumable that you’ve reached nighttime and the immigration offices are closed.  So now there is not much more to do than sit at outdoor food wagons drinking cold Coca-Cola from a glass bottle while eating amazingly inexpensive tacos and finding yourself in Spanish conversation with locals and other viajeros (travelers).  Sitting on low plastic chairs, these light-hearted yet somehow deep conversations with total strangers in their native tongue feel very familiar and comforting to me for they are happening all over the world.

These moments are indeed among the cherished reasons why I travel.  Here at this taco stand there are no borders between our countries, no disgusting politicians telling us how we should feel about people of other nations, yet here myself and my new friend share a meal and a few laughs about esoteric references that only true lovers of Latin American culture would understand.  

I come back to the cheap motel which coincidentally we stayed at two years ago, the first time we drove to Guatemala, look at myself in the mirror and realize that my greasy face shows it’s travels well.  I’m 36, proudly covered in tattooed scars, awake and alive in this moment.  

Travel is different now that I’m older.  I’m no longer the shirtless hostel guy playing guitar on the roof drinking beer with travelers of many nations (wait... yeah I am) but now something more; a man who has found himself a wonderful fiancé and a newly discovered lust to search this planet for signs that my original theories were correct: when you tear down the borders created by imaginary geopolitical lines, when you try even a little to entertain the notion that you can learn another language, when you harness enough courage to travel across great distances of land only then do you truly realize that we aren’t so different after all.  

My gosh, the horrible things I hear these days coming from the mouths of those back home who have never so much as tried the food of a different culture.. it pains me to think that so many people have such terrible beliefs about people from other nations.  

Que puta eres señor trump.. te compadezco..  

How cliché I feel saying this but a little understanding goes such a long way.   

My friends, we are not the opinions of our government nor the fear which is embodied within us from the media.  Travel.  Buy a ticket to somewhere you are supposed to be afraid of and go there.  Not for one week but for a long time.  See for yourself if what you’ve been told is true because nobody else will do it for you.  We should celebrate our differences not fear them.

This journey is a long one which will take me four solid months.  We shall continue across Mexico and back into the United States only to find ourselves flying soon back to Guatemala and eventually to a small Caribbean island off the coast of Honduras where we can begin a new life and a new chapter in our story together.  This sounds complicated but to Elena and I it makes perfect sense.  (Hu)man has long carried an insatiable desire to explore what lies beyond the hills and across the sea and to me personally it’s sad that we’ve come to deny ourselves this wanderlust.  This is very normal for me and I have no plans to stop.  As it’s been said before me, one day I shall return with wider eyes and words more soothing to the ears.  The world will sleep yet we too shall continue to travel as it is our birth right to do so.  

Tomorrow we depart for San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico.

Love and respect your neighbors.

Return to the Sea

"The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.."

-Jacques Yves Cousteau

I found myself a few months ago about thirty meters underwater somewhere off the coast of Utila, Honduras.  My girlfriend and I traveled there in February being guided by a calling to explore somewhere new yet strangely familiar.  Islands seemed to be calling to us as we find our elements seem to collide where water meets tropical trees.  We've wandered jungles and waterfalls and even vast deserts to find absolute peace in abundance as well as absolute mystery in absence of anything at all.  Yet, as it came to be, I found my true self deep underwater.

Scuba diving is a great sport.  There are few things to compare diving to besides deep space travel with mysterious alien lifeforms abounding.  You'll come across corals that so beautifully remind you of plants and trees yet they are actually miracles formed by tiny animals who live with such fragility that even the tiniest changes to their environments can devastate their populations.  On any given dive you will probably encounter fish who greet you with all sort of expressions ranging from curious to hostile or even perhaps indifferent to your amazement of their beauty.  Some fish are amazingly evolved predators trying to catch other fish who are impressively skilled in their art of camouflage.  Among the coral and fish you will find other types of life in the form of the universe's wild imagination and at times you won't believe that you are still on Earth.  These things are all truly beautiful and I'm lucky to have such a hobby which will soon enough be my job, however it's not these surreal beauties which have captivated me in the way I'm referring to.  I found myself while staring deep into the abyss.

"He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.  And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze also into thee."

-Friedrich Nietzche

Admittedly, I've kept a secret from the world for a long time.  It's only recently that I've become more open about depression, which is something that I've almost felt ashamed of since I was very young.  Honestly there is no time in life to waste feeling ashamed and truth be told things have actually been marginally easier for me once I started coming clean with others about my struggles with serotonin levels.  For some reason I had even believed that men in the workplace are unable to talk about their feelings yet I boldly tried at the marina a few months ago one particular day when I was quite beside myself.  I asked everybody to bear with me and I apologized for seeming scattered and distant.  Much to my surprise nobody really mocked me for it and a few other dudes even contributed that they too struggle with similar things.  

This is new to me, being open, in fact I've only been honest with myself for a few years now.  Somehow in that long journey I've made traversing the planet I had found and lost myself so many times that I just assumed it was part of the travel process.  Sometimes I felt so lonely even in the company of good friends who truly cared about me.  Other times I felt lost in my own head like I didn't know who I was when looking in the mirror.  I'd catch myself finishing half sentences out loud saying things like "...then I guess I'll never know what's wrong with me."  

So after years of assuming I was just an over-traveled sojourner of unimaginable freedom who has somehow found peace in losing his mind abroad I began to realize that there was a conversation which was desperately overdue.  

This conversation I speak of is the kind of conversation one has with nature on long walks alone or even those thoughts which vocalize when driving long distances and becoming closer with the open road miles from your home.  For me, this conversation began a few months ago about thirty meters underwater.

The abyss is seriously intimidating.  In my travels I've been privileged to see the underwater abyss in her many different forms.  When I lived in Samoa I used to don a simple mask and snorkel which I borrowed form my fishing village.  For what seemed like hours I would sit on rocks underwater holding onto pieces of shelf to keep myself submerged about six inches over my head.  Just breathe.  Stare into the endless blue and know that there is no land to be seen for thousands of miles.  

Some parts of the oceans I've explore have given me the opportunity to see first hand the edge of tectonic plate (I think that's what they are called).  The depth of the water will drop from about one hundred feet to immense distances of many miles towards the endless nothing below: The Abyss.

Maybe some people feel this endlessness when staring at the stars at night or perhaps even far away in the desert where they are surrounded by nothing but sand and their own thoughts.  I guess this would be the closest example I could think of but the abyss of the sea has a special hold on me and I would like to offer perhaps a warning of her beauty.  

To me the abyssal sea is like (...searching desperately for examples) the ring from Lord of the Rings (d'oh... lame example) or perhaps the tree of knowledge of good and evil.  I know of her temptations and I've been warned by philosophers who have come before me that this spell she casts on you could one day cost your life if you fall under her enchantment.  To me, I came to visit her with what I hoped was a strong heart and a healthy sense of listening.  We have an ongoing conversation when I'm deep underwater and visiting her is like running into an old friend at Ram's Horn at 3:00am and talking over coffee.  We just pick up right where we left off and she looks deep into each time and asks the words I've waited so long to hear from anyone that cares about me, "how are you?"

"How am I?"  I'm not sure.. I haven't really thought about it in a while.  We haven't spoken since March and in the meantime I've been working my ass off on my boats trying to save up for the next phase of our togetherness.  

After a few months more of training I'll have achieved my Dive Master and legally be permitted to take tourists around interesting parts of the reef.  I liked the idea at first but honestly I'm only pursuing Dive Master as a means to eventually become an instructor.  You see.. the abyss didn't reveal to me that I was non-deserving of mental happiness nor did she tell me I was unfit to live in such a world, she did however tell me that I need to teach others again.. I haven't been a teacher in over three years.  She reached to me and told me that I'm going to get any help from others but I have to look deep into myself, my own abyssal thoughts, to find my true calling on this planet.  

I'll say it... I miss teaching.  Somehow I became kinda good at it and since I've stopped teaching I've missed out on amazing opportunities to reach others.  That conversation, that ongoing dialogue I've had with the deep dark blue has shown me that I'm really the abyss and unless I conquer my own monsters I too will become swallowed up whole.  

I won't advertise to the world that I've written this blogpost, I'll just publish it and walk away.  Come with me if you like and follow this journey of a fish returning to the sea.. it all starts now, in this 18 hours or so I have left in my homeland before returning to Central America tomorrow and eventually to the sea.

Sea Glass 6

When dogs once roamed these beaches the objects which washed ashore were much different.  There were no plastic bottle caps nor corn chip bags, in fact the only trace of human’s influence on the sandy shores were pieces of sea glass.

You might not have been aware of this but there are different categories of sea glass each based on how rare they are.  Normal valued sea glass are typically green or brown like beer bottles but rare sea glass includes pink and aqua marine or even orange or red.

It didn’t matter to the dogs though they are colorblind