Rants and Articles.
Roadtrip ii
Our roadtrip through Chiapas went on without much incident. At Jerusalem, a small (under 300 people small) village in the middle of the Lacandona jungle, we saw a river of an unnaturally clear shade of blue. We stopped there to bathe for a while (by that point, we had adopted a waterfall-and-river-only bathing policy — which didn’t help improve the smell inside the car at all).
At the river we got to see the ceremonial launch of a boat, and a bunch of kids said quite a few things in tzotzil (the regional dialect language) while they pointed and laughed heartily at us when we were in the river. Now, I don’t speak an iota of tzotzil, but to this day, I’m pretty much convinced that they were saying something along the lines of:
Look at dumb fatty white guy, bathing in crocodile-infested area!!”
I promptly got out of the water and scanned the surface for evil crocodile eyes (didn’t see any, but I know they were there, the sneaky bastards).
At the waterfalls of Lacanjá, I became painfully aware that it had indeed been a bad idea to eat the tamales we had forgotten at one of the car compartments for two days. Clenching my teeth, I started the way back with Gabo, but we were at least a few miles into the jungle and the camp site was still a long way when I decided I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Having some common sense, and aware of my almost complete lack of botanical knowledge, I wasn’t about to risk it using a leaf from the area, so I turned to Gabo and demanded he produce some paper. Any paper.
- I don’t have any.
- Give me your wallet.
- What?
- Your wallet. NOW!
At that point, I was willing to wipe my butt with a fifty. I rifled frantically through the contents of the wallet and found the official Permit the Secretary of Tourism had given us to visit the church at San Juan Chamula. The paper wasn’t nearly of the ideal texture, but it would do. Permit in hand, my face discomposed with pain, I sprinted it out of there as fast as I could until I found a tree suitably concealed from the view of the path.
What followed was a feeling of relief so unabashedly pure that the mere remembrance of it still brings tears to my eyes. When I finished I felt like rolling sideways and spooning with the tree, it was that good.
It took me quite a while to make it slowly back to the path. Gabo was waiting there, watching a creek flow.
- That was my memento from the trip, you know?
- Well, it’s not completely destroyed. You could go back and fetch it if you want.
- I don’t think I’ll do that.
- Your loss.
I looked up at the sky and smiled. Life was good.
— sergio on May 18, 2004 
Comments
oohh and also … If you were to shy to use the river (possibly by environmental reasons)… why didn’t you use your OWN stuff from your OWN wallet??
1. Yeah, he bought a bunch of tourist crap in Villahermosa.
2. Of course I thought of that. I just couldn’t find a spot secluded enough.
3-ish. I wasn’t carrying my wallet. What kind of weirdo takes his wallet with him when going hiking in the jungle??
Well, you made a point there…..
and just a little tip in case you ever find yourself in such a situation, Use your socks dude!!, (whispering) waaay more buttocks-gentle than paper ….
Nice story, I never noticed you leaving the path, but I did notice a strange smell for days afterward. I think this answers part two of Elroy’s second question.
There are so many cool stories from that trip. It’s been one of the best i’ve had.
Rememeber the counterfeit Guatemalan gasoline bought at a roadside hut we put in Gabo’s brand new car? Best mileage i’ve ever seen.
Irrelevant sidenote: Tzotzil is a full language, nut just a dialect of Maya.
Thanks Fer. I updated the reference to tzotzil. Even added a link to a cool resource on it I found online.
didn’t you guys took the same trip about 2 years ago?
anyway, great story, glad you guys took the time to go.
Turumbar: Yeah, this is actually a retro entry. It’s about that trip, two years ago.
I just can not remember what crazy things were going through my mind to get me to have an idea as warped as to bring my wallet along.
I do however, remember that we were all enjoying ourselves at these amazing waterfalls when Sergio said “I think I should be getting back.. will you accompany me?”. Being a wonderful friend that I was, I tagged along… when the previously described situation arose. It was I who took the memento from my wallet and said: “I don’t have toilet paper, but I DO have this receipt..”, “It will do!”.
It seems I was always the one who had to make sure we had a contingency plan or some kind of answer for any emergency. I don’t know how you’ve lived the rest of your life without me Serge.
Oh, and as Salamastre will surely agree.. Sergio tends to slightly deform reality (just the slightest bit) when he tells stories so take them with a grain of salt.
You should hear the one about the girl in the Mall who was perversely looking at him…
Dude, that’s called “creative license”.
And yeah, I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long without you. You *did* always seem to bail me out of trouble. Maybe I should go to Canada and bug you there.
And the thing with the girl, in the mall, that was completely true, bud. Totally. She had crazy eyes. Crazy, evil eyes. With lasers. Yup.
Creative License my eggs…
However, to your credit, I must admit you do deform reality in cool ways.
I was going to comment on some of Sergio’s most epic moments of creative license, but I am afraid to embarras anyone sponsored by Google. And I may also have a very long tail.
Do you have any idea of Mr. Knighton’s whereabouts? I beleive he would be proud of Sergio’s site here, Phillip was always one for suspension of disbeleief and creative license.
Sergio tends to slightly deform reality in the same way that the earth tends slightly to orbit around the sun.
Offtopic: Sergio and Gabo, check out http://www.marylandtesol.org/
Who are you, nameless person who defies my truthful account of events past?
Et tu, Fer?
Sergio,
Te audire no possum. Musa sapientum fixa est in aure.
Vah! Denuone Latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur.
Salamastre:
Si Hoc Legere Scis Nimium Eruditionis Habes
That said, utinam modo subiunctivo semper male utaris!
Wow! is that really THE Phillip Knighton? I will send him an email.
Gabo.
Semper ubi, sub ubi.
great story :) Thanks for the laugh.
Very interesting in deed…..I think you had already told me this one….
what really bugs me about this story is….
1. did Gabo ever got another “memento” of that trip??
2. it never occurred to you, that a river is a good place to take a shit? I bet that permit didn’t work too well as a cleaning device, did it?…OR you just wanted to ruin Gabo’s memento????
As for the little tzotziles….yes dude they were definitely laughing at you.