Life On The Oregon Trail

Yesterday our car got stuck fording the river, and I almost ate an iguana.

Let me explain.

Kenny got a bunch of people together to go to the river. Pablo and I came late, after we left work around noon, so we took a cab. I hope for your sake you never travel on a road with more sharp and frequent turns than the road we took to get to the river. I think I turned green. When we got to the river, we didn't see our friends, so we called them. They were at a different part. We would have to cross the river with our car. Now, we're in the dry season, so the vast river bed has been reduced to a rocky tundra-like terrain through which a modest and shallow stream flows languidly. But. The cab was an old sedan. We crossed the river once. We crossed the river twice. Then, we crossed the river a third time in the most secluded area we had been to so far, and we got stuck.

Ok, so the water was less than a foot deep, but our front tires were at least six inches deep in gravel. I took this opportunity to point out that where I'm from, we get stuck in SNOW. At this point water began seeping into the car through the floor and there were puddles where our feet should have been. But, our feet were outside of the car because we were pushing it, along with a man who had been biking past and stopped to help. Just as we got out of the river, we saw a white, fluffy dog in the distance! Casper! We had found our friends.

If I had to give one piece of advice on traveling, in Central America or really anywhere, it is that inconvenience MUST be funny. You MUST laugh when these sort of things happen. Really, everything that is not physically painful or damaging has to be funny or else you will end up like an apple left in the sun, shriveled and cranky and bitter.

They went iguana hunting and cut it up and boiled it. I had pledged to myself that I would eat it because that's the kind of person I am. Also, I would have been able to say on my blog, "I ate an iguana". Unfortunately, we left before it was ready.

The river was beautiful to swim in, with a bottom of polished stones. I made friends with Maria, my 13-year-old neighbor. The neighbor's boys showed me a big fallen tree you could sit on like a see-saw. Maria wants to be a forensic scientist when she grows up. Her dad is the town judge.

The day at the river was super typical: grilled beef stakes wrapped in corn tortillas, soda, Pablo singing on guitar, people sitting and lying around, and me feeling like a large adult retard. I mean literally at one point I was sitting in the river, while everyone else was chatting and joking, just putting handfuls of little rocks on my legs and watching the current take them away. For probably at least 5 minutes. And I suddenly realized that I must seem like I am so totally handicapped- after all, I barely talk or understand anyone, and I wander around silently and touch nature. What a life.

We went home in the back of a cattle truck in the moonlight, which was fun. When I got home, I was dying for french fries, and guess what? You can get them in San Pablo! I got those french fries. I got em good. Except, of course, they were bad. Undercooked, so they didn't have the outside crispiness that is essential. I think about New York City a lot. I think about this one night, last spring, when I was staying with Eric, and it was 10 or 11 at night, and I said, "I want pizza", and 15 minutes later I was sitting down at the counter of a pizza place eating pizza. New York is so unbelievably magical, you can get anything you want. Do you know, in SoHo, there is a macaroni and cheese restaurant?!!? That's all they serve. Gourmet mac and cheese.

Luckily, I live in what appears to be the mango capital of the world. The mangoes on the trees proliferate like cancer. They will all be ripe within the month.

Unluckily, I am allergic to mangoes. I learned this. I get a horrible, terrible rash for days. Not worth it.

Bob has started hoarding desserts in the fridge, in tupperwares that say, "Roberto's, don't eat". I mean, like, sheets of cake the size of a book. And his new year's resolution was to lose weight! What a prick. I am afraid that their negative attitudes and childishness will rub off on me and I will become a horrible person. I am appealing to my higher self to stay good.

I only have 9 days, including today, left. I am feeling so unimaginably impatient, so I have instituted a three-pronged survival plan:

1) Stoicism

2) Meditation

3) Studying Spanish

Stoicism means I am trying not to get riled, or believe in the urgency of leaving. It means staying patient and trying not to fantasize about the future.

Meditation is the act of meditating. Which I am not really doing, even though it is part two of my plan, which means I plan on meditating. A lot.

Studying Spanish is the only fun and enjoyable activity sometimes. I love it. My brain is like a sponge. Although I still speak at the proficiency level of an adult retard.

Do you know what else I've been thinking about a lot lately? How much I love the two home alone movies. They were the best, and I haven't seen them for years. When I get home, I'm totally going to have a home alone movie marathon.