I`m sitting at the post office at the airport in Guatemala City at the only existing computer for which they charge me an outrageous 8 quetzales/15 min rate. Anyhow, I felt that it is my duty, as I haven`t been on the radar for a while to provide an update on my ludicrous adventures. So let`s do the mundane chronological order. Yoxchilàn was about 40 minutes boat ride literally on the Mexican-Guatemalan border, one side of trees was the former, the other, the latter. Both Yoxchilan and Bonampak were lovely and interesting, but nothing extraordinary to report. I parted from my small group to head towards the ecological reserve with a small indigenous guy who picked me up. He was telling me on the way how he loves to swim in the smaller rivers, but not in the big ones because there are crocodiles. He asked me if I would like to see one of these rivers, and I said why not. As we were making our way through the jungle on a barely visible small trail, he told me that this was actually the local shaman`s territory and pointed out the ceremonial grounds and sacred trees that were marked by colourful ribbons tied around them. We got to a tiny clearing, where the river gave a small turn and formed a little bay, not bigger than maybe two bathtubs. So my new friend began telling me about this cleansing ritual that he and his people perform against all sorts of pain and fatigue. It involves getting completely naked, getting in the water, praying and rubbing clay on your body in a particular way. Of course I was completely torn between trying to decide if this was for real or it might just be the most elaborate plan on part of a man to get me out of my clothes. We got rid of my skirt, because he said red was too strong of a colour and it disrupts the ceremony. I put my foot down at the bra and underwear. Nevertheless he got butt naked. Smallest penis ever, by the way. I know I wasn`t supposed to look, but I couldn`t help to sneak a peak. Anyhow, we prayed in the local mayan language and asked permission from nature to be able to perform this ceremony, then for about 20 minutes he rubbed this clay all over me and it was incredible. Eventhough the water was quite cold after a while I stopped shivering and actually felt as if something bad was leaving from me. As we dried off the sun was already quickly sinking and on our way towards the road he stopped and held me back. The shaman was coming and we weren`t supposed to be around. We hid in the now almost completely dark jungle for what it seemed like eternity and then decided to take a detour which involved passing through the totally creepy garden of the shaman, and an abandoned shack which for all I know could have easily been a set of a horror movie. When we finally got to the car we found some of his family waiting for him to give them a ride. As he introduced me, for a moment I wondered that maybe I just taken place in some marriage ritual and I didn`t even know it. The place where I slept was simple with a few hammocks and the mosquito net around the bed. I slept like an angel, instead of bothering me or scaring me, I enjoyed the crazy concert of the insects like never before with the smooth noise of the river as the background noise.

The next morning I crossed to Guatemala and left behind this marvellous country, which held surprises for me until the very last minute. Flores was about a good 4 hours of bumpy ride away. When I tried to find a bank on the island it turned out they only exchange dollars, so I had to cross to Santa Elena, following the instructions of a lovely gentleman, who even gave me 5 quitzales for the tuc-tuc ride. I spent the afternoon having some food and beers, which rapidly turned into more beers and then a joint Israeli-Portugese-Hungarian venture to the liquor store where we managed to accumulate about three bottles of good guatemalan rum. Of course we were eventually asked to leave the hostel, and managed to find the only bar open in Flores where we danced salsa and for the sake of good measure had some tequila too. Went to bed around 1 and the next morning caught the 7 o`clock bus to Tikal. On the bus we met a guide who offered us a tour, first for a 100 then for 80 a head. As I was still hesitant, he took me aside and told me I can pay 50 as long as I don`t tell the others. He was a very good, knowledgeable and clearly interested in what he was doing and despite my sizable hangover I fully enjoyed the 4 and a half hour tour and 10 km walk-through of the biggest Mayan site of the world. The Russian-Israeli-New Yorker couple I met here were also staying in Flores, so as we got back we decided to take the boat-taxi to the other side of the lake to San Miguel, cross the little peninsula where we had the most well-deserved and satisfying swim at the deserted beach in the beautiful water. As the sun was setting we walked to the Mirador to marvel at the sight of the island of Flores, Santa Elena and the surrounding flora and fauna and of course the large and completely full moon. Despite this long day I managed to get caught up in some drinking action again with these lovely boys that I met in Los Amigos. This night I didn`t even get to sleep in my hammock, I dosed off on the bench around 5 and at 6 I got my things and headed off to the airport. On the tuc-tuc I bade a last goodbye to the beautiful Petèn Itza and swore that I will return here to relax and to definitely do the 5 day hike to El Mirador. Hopefully San Juan travel will be out of business by the time of my return.

I would like to start by paying a moment (about four lines) of respect to my blanket. You have served me well, and kept Miguel and I warm for long weeks. You have protected me from the dirty sheets and biting freeze in Hierve el Agua, may you keep having the same fulfilling purpose of life in Oaxaca with one of the Mujeres Artesianas, where I left you. Goodbye.

So the 14-hour bus ride in line with expectations was long and not fun. There were only two people who actually were on the bus for the whole ride. Me and the bus driver. I think that is actually absolutely prohibited for him to drive for that long. I still wonder what he was on. I am staying in El Panchan, a wonderful congregation of cabañas surrounded by actual jungle. It sounds like there is a rock concert outside my window. I arrived here around 8, had a quick breakfast and caught the local bus to the ruins of Palenque. I let myself be talked into a ^guided tour of the jungle^. I was a bit sceptical at first, but it was absolutely worth it. Fifty minutes of just my boy Oliver and I fighting our way through the green. He showed me calbo (not sure about the spelling) that the locals chew against toothache, camfor, cocoa and many other plants. The guides gather every second month with a biology professor from the nearby university, to study and learn to spot different local plants, from dangerous trees to poisonous mushrooms. He showed me sweet water shrimps and despite my srong wishes he attempted to find me a flying spider that is as big as a palm. Thankfully, he didn^t succeed. Getting back to the ruins of Palenque with the amounts of tourist was a dramatic break in our peaceful walk. Nevertheless, they were beautiful.

Got back to El Panchan just in time to catch the bus to Mislo Ha and Cascadas Agua Azul. Met two lovely Mexican and two equally lovely Israeli ladies. The waterfalls were absolutely amazing, the road was nauseating and terrifying, curvy as crazy and everytime we took over a car my life was flashing in front of my eyes. Regardless, Chiapas feels like a big, fuzzy, green pillow, where, no matter where you fall, you will never hit yourself. Everything is covered with all shades of green and nature is crawling, reaching and growing out of control. This is one of the reasons, why I decided to postpone the crossing to Guatemala with a day and tomorrow I will pack up my stuff visit Yoxchilan and Bonampak and spend the night in an ecological reserve and only the next day head off to Flores. If this entry feels a little rushed, it^s because it is. It is a Saturday night and I have a michelada and some live music waiting for me in a bar where the roof is made of dried banana leaves. Hasta mañana!

Getting to Hierve el Agua was actually a bit more difficult than I expected. The fancier minibuses that took me to Monte Alban only took people there who wanted to rent a guide and a round trip. I wanted to spend the night, and wasn´t having any of that. So I made my way to the periferico where taxi compartidos and buses honk and literally are on top of each other, and you can just fight your way through 3-4 lines of traffic and hop on. The bus to Mitla was late (no wonder, I could have walked faster in that chaos) so I waited around. Some locals, true to form, this happens almost everywhere, advised me to keep an eye on my stuff, because there are a lot of scumbags around. As my feet touched the ground in Mitla I got yelled at ´Hierve el Agua?´, it was a guy hunting for tourists. He told me that so far I am the only one, but because he usually takes up 6 people and makes 300 pesos he´ll take me for 200. Needless to say I wasn´t gonna eat this up, so we waited around and eventually I hunted for him two german girls. So I paid 50 pesos, which was still the double of what local buses ask for, but I was getting anxious as it was nearing 4 and we still had 20 kilometers of mountain road to get through. When I finally settled in the cabaña where I was to spend the night, I went outside to the patio, where the whole mountain range was laid out underneath my feet. Hierve el

Agua means the ´boil of the water´, or something along those lines.

Well, there wasn´t much boiling going on, nor it was very hot (although after it turned out that there is no water in the room, I considered some splashing around) it contains some heavy minerals, which, dripping down on the side of the mountain produce something that can only be described as a frozen waterfall. Sitting on the top, I looked around, feeling nature´s every heartbeat yet when I looked to my right the waterfall looked like as if one of these heartbeats just froze in time. It was one of the most magnificent and humbling experiences of my life. I went to bed around 8, exhausted, but not before the guy-at-the-gate came around to hit on me a little bit. The night was more than eerie. The strong wind made not only my terrace and entrance door creek and thump like crazy, but the chair inside was also shreeking in the dark, like someone was shifting around on it to get comfortable. I killed a spider before going to bed, I know it´s bad luck, but I can´t have that thing climb in my mouth or something. A Mexican grasshopper (by this I mean it was big, brown and making drilling noises) scared 

the living shit out of me as it hopped on my bed just as I opened my eyes at half 5. What was, I presume, a breathtaking sunrise, unfortunately was more or less covered up by clouds. As I made my way through the small paths to discover and see more, and besides encountering numerous large bees that were defending their territorry and admiring the colibris and, what I suppose were eagles, I also got completely terrified by the death fight of a bird who was dragged away by god knows what. Had a strong coffee at the village (of about 15 houses) which was to the

 brim of its absorption level with sugar. I think it will never fail to surprise me when my coffee is made with real fire in a large tin pot, and when drinking it I have as many chickens and dogs running around under the table as children. Three to be exact. The chickens may have been more, I can´t distinguish them. Got on the first bus, which was for the locals, no tourists arrive at 8.30 in the morning. Six people in the front, in the actual car, and seven of us at the back of the pick up, and one hanging off the back. The little girl was wretching in front of me. Thinking that when I was a kid I would vomit in the car, on an asphalted highway, for me she was a hero. No surprise she couldn´t hold it on a 2-meter wide dirt road, U-turns, in the back of a pick-up car (because it definitely wasn´t a truck). Caught the bus from Mitla, and on the way I realized that I had forgotten to pay for my ride down. This is how much this trust-based manner of handling things hasn´t sunk in yet. Of course it also could be the fact that sometimes I fail to pay any attention. To anything. Nevertheless, I felt so ashamed! Now I´m back in Oaxaca, I have four hours until catching my lovely 14-hour ride to Palenque, Chiapas. So I am off to see this city a bit.

Actually arrived earlier than expected, so I bummed around the bus station until 6 waiting for the first bus to the center. Chatted with a guy from Switzerland, and I realized that I already forgot how much less friendly most Europeans can be. Although it is also entirely possible that I wasn´t at the top of my conversation and entertainment skills at 5 in the morning and I just simply scared him. Brushed my teeth and cleaned myself up a bit in the bathroom and caught the bus, from which, of course, i got off about 10 blocks away from my intended destination. So I wandered, and watched the city wake up. Later I found Calle Mina which

is full of buses heading to Monte Albán, my first destination. The gentelman from the phar

macy, just opposite to Hotel Rivera del Angel, who sold me the ticket, advised me to spend

my time until the bus leaves at half 8 at the nearby chocolate factory/breakfast place on the corner of Mina and 20 de Noviembre. I am not a sweet tooth generally, but the sound of the machines, the sight of the workers turning the massive brown paste, and the sweet smell while I was sipping on my hot and delicious chocolate, dipping sweet bread in it and reading the newspaper, was truly a cosy experience. The sight of the Sierra Madre from Monte Alban, and just the positive energy oozing from the place is unexplainable. The cattles of shrieking and obnoxious tourists remind me how wonderful it is to travel alone, or with somebody that shares a similar rythm and calm with you. Thankfully, it was relatively easy to ignore and lose sight of them in the massive spaces of the ancient city. I am now on the hunt for taxi compartido to get me to Hierve el Agua, a place at 3000m with hot water springs, where I plan on spending the night.

Wanderings in space and time

'-Have you ever transcended space and time?'

'-Yes. Space, but not time. No, I have no idea what you are talking about.'

I am leaving behind today at midnight Mexico DF, which has been my welcoming home for almost three months now. Welcoming, except of course for the time when Christos, my flatmate was robbed by two guys and a gun outside our door. But I try to pass this off, because it can happen anytime and anywhere, especially when you live in such a huge and chaotic city.

I promised (myself, I didn't let anybody else know) that I would keep a brief, funny, entertaining yet insightful diary of my stay here on this very blog; keep an account of the difficulties and wonders I may encounter when interacting with this different and sometimes puzzling culture. Needless to say (and clear to see) this did not happen in the slightest. So hereby, I am making the promise in 'public' that I will try to document the next 3 weeks and some days to come, when I will be rushing through some of Central and South America in my desperate attempt to see all the wonders of this part of the world. Let us see if this time I can live up to the plan. Following is my itinerary, for numerous reasons: so you can keep track of me, appreciate in one breath the 'locura' of the situation and not the least to already make an excuse if all this does not happen, 'Just look at my plan! There was no way I was going to be able to find a computer, let alone reflect in writing on anything that is going on!'

Nov. 25. Taking night bus to the capital of Oaxaca state, Oaxaca.

Nov. 26. Visiting Monte Alban and then setting out for Hierve del Agua and spending the night there

Nov. 27. Seeing a bit of Oaxaca, before taking a 14-16 hour busride to Palenque in the southern state of Chiapas

Nov. 28. Take a 5am. bus through Yaxchilan, cross the river to Guatemala, take another bus to Flores

Nov. 29-Dec. 1. Enjoy the island of Flores, the city of Santa Elena and the Mayan ruins of Tikal

Dec. 2. Arrival to Panama City and reuniting with Camden

Dec.3. 5am jeep taking us to the other side of the country to take a boat (sailboat, yacht or a tanker? unknown as of now) to Cartegna in Colombia

Dec. 3-8/9. Fighting sea-sickness and visiting some of the uninhabited islands of San Blas

...

Further plans are fuzzy. Depending on arrival of the boat, hopefully visiting Medellin and on the 13th flying out of Bogota, Lima bound. There I am at the mercy of my dear and totally crazy friends. Budapest bound on the 22nd of December. Hope you hear from me soon.

Because everybody is talking about it

Just a quick thought on Michael Jackson's funeral. I find it simply odd, how people are so passionately mourning somebody who gave kids wine and taught them to masturbate. If we must employ the old and rubbed down cliché of the artist being separate from his art, then can we just let the pervert with an unfortunately disturbed mind-set rest in peace, and celebrate his music that lives on forever? Cheers.

On the importance of participation

"Sok kicsi sokra megy" is a Hungarian saying, meaning something along the lines of "lots of little goes a long way". Earth Hour is an initiative to encourage people to switch off their lights for an hour today, the 28th of March at 20.30 their local time. When I say "lots of little goes a long way" I'm not really talking about a significant change in the consumption of energy. Sure, for this particular hour there is certainly some detectable change, but what really goes a long way is these 60 long minutes that I, personally will spend with some dear friends, candles and some wine. Those 60 minutes, that usually just fly by unnoticed during the course of the day, will be spent reflecting on the direction we are headed. It is a collective doom, towards which we are speeding faster and faster with every minute of every hour of everyday, and these 60 minutes are a reminder of our belonging together as a damned humanity. Most importantly, these 60 minutes are a lifeline to regain faith in ourselves as conscious individuals and active participants. There is a way to slow down the slide towards oblivion. We are not a mindless mass that marches towards its own destruction. We vote Earth. We vote life. We vote decision.

http://www.earthhour.org