It was almost the perfect crime (7/28/05)

Ok ok, actually I think this time it was the perfect crime. My fellow volunteers and i decided to escape from our small town to go to the beach. While the town was egging us on to go since they saw that we needed a break, Amigos rules keep us from leaving our villages for non amigos related activities. We have a whole list of rules, mainly because most of the volunteers are teenagers. So we decided to turn the list of donts into a list of dos. And we've been quite successful. Our escape to the beach that is about 9 hrs away consisted of much caution and many close calls. We had to change buses in Oaxaca where the supervisors' lair is. I knew this was a bad idea from the get go, definitely since we decided to up the stakes by spending about 6 hrs in Oaxaca, eating dinner, going to a bar (also on the list of donts), and basically putzing around. I donned my wrap on my head because I’m well aware that I can be spotted from afar, definitely in a land sans dreadlocks. This one detail probably saved us. As we were walking to the bus stop Dylan, one of the volunteer, came up behind me and said "watch out, the supervisor!" It was a joke. Little did he know karma would come knocking two seconds later when we were standing face to face with our supervisor. In a city of half a million people, what are the odds that you would run into the one person that you were avoiding? Luckily for us, he is the most spaced out kid I’ve ever met. He looked right at us but didn't see. And with our heightened supervisor avoiding senses, we jumped into the closest shop we found, a backpack store, and hid. The owner asked if we were in trouble. If we were, he would come out and help us. He was ready to get his militia of salesmen. We explained the situation and he strategically placed the sales guys at the door, obstructing any view of us. After the coast was clear, we met up with our new British friends that were going with us to the beach and headed for our van. The van ride was insane. Going around cliffs during the day is crazy, at night it's not recommended. But it was either the van or the bus. And apparently, the other Brits we had befriended and had gone to Puerto Escondido, the beach, before had had some troubles...namely coyote trouble. they were the last ones on the bus and the driver didn't feel like going any farther so he instructed these non-Spanish speaking travelers to get off and wait for the next bus...the bus that never came. So they spent the next 2 hours walking in the dark, which turned into running from dogs and coyotes, until they got to the next town. Coyotes or motion sickness? You choose.

So we get to Puerto Escondido at 4 am and all pass out on the beach until the sun rose. It was one of the best sleeps I’ve had. Then we found the youth hostel owned by this psycho French expat and I spent the two days eating nutella. (No, this is not a stereotype...this is I spent those two days) I also had the best prime ribs ever at this restaurant owned by these two Philadelphians (the cook was Georgian hence the good ribs).

So we lived the good life. I boogie boarded the whole time, remembering my summers as a child on Galveston Island. Well, I lived the good life. Everyone else got sick. lucky to know that my story about having a stomach of steel is actually true.

And then there was the ride back. I thought the bus ride down that mountain a couple weeks ago was bad. But we got a crazy driver who must have thought he was practicing for NASCAR. I’ve never seen anyone tackle mountains like that. Luckily for us the side of the road was covered with trees so we couldn't see the 50 ft drop. That didn't keep my friend Ana from projectile vomiting out the window. I must hand it to her, it was a clean projection. I think it also hinted to the driver that he should slow down. Apparently the girl in the seat behind me who was thrown to the other side of the van was not a severe enough sign.

btw, I slept through most of that ride. I’m beginning to wonder if I have narcolepsy.

So we made it back to san martin Huamelulpam, not before stopping in Oaxaca again and risking it all. But we are back, no one is the wiser, I finally have my summer tan, and things are on track. The mural is almost completed and looking great. The town has stopped complaining (I explained numerous times that the final product would be very different from the first coat but they still appeared very worried). My kids have helped paint it and I think they are very proud of their work.

Speaking of paintings, my friend's apartment where i was storing all my stuff including all my paintings, is collapsing. He was kind enough to have them on the top of the list of things that were rescued before the building is demolished. Unfortunately he and his roommate might lose a lot of things, and there might be some paintings still in there somewhere. So, if you know Anthony, send him a nice message because he is awesome. Also, pray. If you do that sort of thing.

Anyway, I’m going to go paint. Then I’m going to go find someone's donkey to ride.

mmuuaahh

maya