Para que llorar?¡?¡?

The end of my stay has come, the adventure is almost over. Reflecting upon my expereince I can truly say that ten weeks in this beautiful regoin of "Mexico" has altered my vision of the world. A gigangtic plate of different people, emotions, and ideas filling up my metaphorical belly. These elements that I have consumed have nurtured my mind and body in ways that humble and energize action. I am ready for the next step what ever it may be. The illusions are melting evoporating into air. The illusion of self and the powers the torment our brothers and sisters accross our blue green planet. Generation upon generation of people from pueblos, counties, cities, and nations whos view has been coerced into seeing only the rat race chasing mirages only to hug a cactus (and get taxed for it). I have read the most powerful thing is good intention the desire to want help create better world can move mountains and alter futrues. A person cannot do these things alone, there needs to be community there needs to be relationships that are not determined upon how much mula can be milked out of the endless pastures of people. People who work together because they feel compassion and enjoy each others company.

The family that I was with in Tihosuco, taught me alot about unity and solidarity. I came into their home as a stranger, and in many ways I still am. No need to sugar coat the situation, I did not grow up in the same enviroment. I have never gone into the jungle on bicycle, spent 14 hours chopping wood, and carried it back home. The hardship of this type existance creates a ferocious bond within their family; which was enormous mother father, ten children, and recently adopted another boy. The father is a catholic missionary, though I am not a big fan of the faith, Catholocism has helped them. Many think of Mexicans and have two images a drunk man wearing a sombrero under a cactus the other a Narco traficante (drug trafficker). The family does not drink, they are as pure as mountain spring water; as was the case with the majority of the people who were at the prime age for rowdy binge drinking. Beside this fact they are not sheltered or oblivious to reality. The constant reminder of drugs are presented everyday in Mexican News papers. They are loyal, there were no arguments just discussions, talking in a way tht I have only seen between close friends. It is a strange thing that in Western Univeristies there is a constant drilling of developing an "argument", forced to fight with like minded people. An individualistic ideology the can be dangerous. The family worked together the mother made sure everyone was fed and in good health. The father being a missionary was constantly out of town, but it didn´t matter. Rather then wine about, take meds, and go to a therapist. The oldest brother played the role, guided the family. It was team work at its finest. Their family structure was not strict of rigid, no dont do this or that. They love by example and guide the best they know how. Right now the brothers who can, are working in Cancun, sucked into the world of debauchaury and mayhem of globalized society. They are difinetly affected by this experience, but they don´t go for the booze, drugs and rock n´or roll. They go so they can help their family. One day the oldest brother and I were talking about the the Mayan prohpecy of 2012, and I asked him what he thought was going to happen. He responded "things are gonna change because thats the year I graduate and am able to get a better job to help my family". Until we learn to love with this type of devotion Ill qoute one of my favorite hip hop MC´s "People are people, but I still love em"-Atmosphere

Moises Plascencia

Moises Plascencia

You want a blog here it is...

Aug 1st, Philipe Carillo Puerot. Got up today after a long night of good times and deep existential conversation. What is existance? How does the mind function? Past, future, and present ralities; all that rubbish (Not rubbish but in a way, Yes, Universally nothing). 9AM, Cathryn (an english in Philipe Carillo Puerto) told us that she was going to teach english class. An nasty check out too early for the lathargic and comfortable. She never showed, a fib that worked as an alarm clock for the scoundral that we were that day. Carillo Puerto is an interesting place. Beer is sold 24 hours a day, bars don´t close til´4Am. The social bussinesses work at the schedule of what the humd hot climate allows. Happy hour is non existant, noone wants to go out when your sticky and smelly. Showers for me have been far and in between events, but the people here shower 2-3 times a day. Drinking here is all or nothing for the local ladies and gentlman, social drinking is a concept not well understood.
Went to the local market, walked around the dozens of fruit vendors which is towards the entrance area. In the center the butchers, cleavers at the ready, set up theri choice cuts of meat. In a fashoin that in a way resembled a horror movie. Ribs, legs, and heads are on display dangling, like a scene out of Texax Chainsaw Massacre. The smell almost made me puke. A reality that as an American, spoiled and used used to my meats prepared and ready for consumption, I never really knew. What was seen as delicious and prestigous to the population, was grotesque for me. A strang cultrtural norm, I can not imagine Santa Cruz with a butcher system like that.
The journey continued, Had lunch in the restaraunt section of the Mercado. the system of restaruants service is confusing and intricately beautiful. Tables of different trademarks (Pepsi, Coca Cola, Superior Beer, Corona, Sol etc...) seperates your selection of restaurant. Goddam impossible to eat where you want to. I spotted a fat Narco Trafficante looking mother hefer, whos lardacious appearence at the front of one of the restaurants promised deliciousness. Within the hustle and crowds, I thought "How the sam hill Im I gonna get there?". The sorrounding table were full. Shit, Oh well. Second choice, or so I thought. Sat down with Tom in front of a taqueria, where 3 healthy looking old ladies cooked, that looked like it offered tastiness in a taco form (or torta form) and was bamboozled. The server was a double agent working for two restaurants. Well hey that´s Mexico life is a hustle. Here are some images of this trip so far enjoy....

My Adeventures in San Ramón Begin

It's been some time since my last post. This is the result of three main factors: 1. I've been busy 2. I'm having too much fun to take time and share with others 3. Internet connections have been notoriously inconsistent/non-existent these first two weeks in San Ramón. I'll do the best I can to re-hash the events leading up to this wireless café I managed to find in Matagalpa, which is my savior, as I will explain.
I felt a great weight lifted from my shoulders driving away from Estelí, replaced by an infectious excitement for my true calling in this country: bees! As I drove down the Pan-American towards Matagalpa, Juan Miguel and I discussed agriculture, Nicaraguan life, and most importantly, country living. We made a brief stop in Matagalpa, which gives off a very San Franciscan vibe (the hilly streets are partially to blame for this feeling), ate lunch, and made our way towards my new home and family. The road quickly became almost undrivable, all potholes and cattle. Suddenly, San Ramón unfolded before me, nestled comfortably in a valley surrounded by breathtaking mountains. It was love at first sight, the quaint tranquility of the pueblo inviting me to explore the roads beyond heading East into the mountains. My cooperative, La Pita, lies 3 Km outside San Ramón, a beautiful walk I have the pleasure of taking just about everyday. In these first two weeks I've met some extremely valuable contacts with a wealth of information about Central American beekeeping projects, including a wonderful and boisterous Honduran woman named Rosemary, who emailed me close to 40 pages of beekeeping project info I've slowly been translating. As an added bonus, she's taken the unnoficial role of maestra de Español, teaching me various phrases, some wildly innappropriate, so that I can communicate in a less university trained dialect with my coworkers. Today was my first time journeying into Matagalpa. I would be happy spending every weekend with my amazing family in San Ramón, but due to some torrential storms these last few days, our house has been without electricity since Thursday, and won't have power again until Tuesday. As a result, my computer has been dead since Friday, and many of my documents are on here since I don't want to waste paper, a principle that may need to change if these outages become commonplace.
Lack of power aside, my days have been full of good people and lots of learning. I arrived not knowing much about beekeeping, and I still have a mountain to learn, but my project is coming together wonderfully, and I look forward to meeting the neighboring cooperatives this coming week. Luckily for me, the president of the Beekeeping coop lives next door to me in La Pita, a jolly man named Pedro Torres.
The coffee is out of this world, the pace of life out here couldn't be better. What a way to receive school credit! The other day, I visited the cooperative's fruit orchard with mi hermano and picked fresh mangoes and cacao fruits. It was my first taste of raw cacao, an experience I will never forget. I don't know when, but I do know that I'll be returning to this wonderful community sometime in the future, it has already built an irrisistable place in my heart.

Con amor,
Taylor

P.S. Apologies for the lack of photos, the server I'm using might kill me if I tried to upload anything. Curse the finicky internet down here! We're far too spoiled up in the states.

brief post

greetings from jose maria morelos

moises and i have been holed up in the library working on papers.

as i slave away on field notes for mr mike rotkin, you are all in my thoughts

the program seems to be moving real fast now, with many friends to see, many places to go, papers to write... SO LITTLE TIME

soon we will leave this computerland and we will go out to kancabchen again

where there is no phones, no internet, no running water...

just buckets, jungle, turkeys, nice people,

and 1000 year old maya ruins

sitting on an ancient well, in the
jungle. from left to right: Fabian, Edgar, Alma, El Tom, Don Mambo, Yuli

out on the weekend...

maalob kiim

some grand adventures por David Sussberg

Wow, as I sit and wonder how I could possible put to words the feelings I feel so deeply in my chest a mayan woman dressed in her beatiful atire, bursting with viberance and color walks a pig down the street and I simply know all I must to do is write about a few adventures and experiences I have placed inside my bag of stories and directly into my heart. I am in the Guatamalan Highlands right now, in the little town of Chi Chi and tomarrow morning Scott and I are head to live with a small mayan community in this quilted landscape of awe and brillantly loved farming landscapes. We have befriend an amazing and strong man that is helping different mayan communities around Lake Atilan and he has set up us for a homestay and we are going to help with various community projects and see and live how the mayan do. It is so incredible and quite funny to me because I came to central america for a few reasons, to strengthen some good roots (my good friends, from forever) of the tree I am, experience life from other rooted cultures live life and help the communties I find myself with, all of which will change mylife and further empower myself, por su puesto. So I have been traveling with 5 of my bestest friends in Nicaragua, learning from good folk all along the way. In Nicaragua I reunited with a good friend and fellow CANista Taylor and we all had a wonderful opportunity to learn plant medicine and work on in agroforestry (food forest farm) . Planting coffee, drink coffe, share food and life and celibrating merrily. From Nicaragua we traveled to old mayan ruins a poco gringo but always connecting with the locals, I learned all about different trees and about the old ways of the Maya. Traveling now for a little over two weeks I have experienced some amazing things, even with such a large group. One day my friends and I voyaged to the top of a volcano only to experience the shere magnifigance of lava. Where fire and sun melted rock to act like a river and flow out of a gaint mountain. We toasted bagels over the lava and celibrated life with bagels and creamcheese staring into liquidfire and looking into grand distances of vistas hermosas of forests and bursting clouds and other towering and majestic volcanos in the distance. Yesterday I snuck away from my friends to call the woman I love and came back an hour late, so Scott and I had to run to catch the last bus, and hanging on the back as it drove away only to break down a few miles later, three Guatemalan Ladies joked that I should show some leg and so I did and to toot my horn, a truck pulled over and so we jumped in the back of a truck with fifteen others, (the way people travel here) to make it to a little town. Only to arrive an hour too late for the next bus so we stumbled upon a quaint resteraunt to enjoy good chirizo tacos and talked about the importance of community and how to really go about creating/strengthen them. We walked to a hotel near by a little to price of our pockets so we bartered with them to sleep outside and camp for good price, to only to discovered by a man that felt bad that we were out in the cold, not understanding that we enjoy nights like this he invinted us in and soo over a cerveza or two we talked all about life, different cultures and thier relationship to the earth. We learned that he was mayan and we talked all about our desires in life, what we are studding being students of life and basically score this opportunity of a life time to live with a good community and share life for awhile. I will write more in a little bit and will also fill in more for there is soo much, especially when my belly rumbles for some good handmade toritillas, and my friend scott looks weirry as I type these feelings and thoughts. I am simple being in the constant state of giving my gratitudes to this amazing life, full of soo much love, compassion, beatiful people and this mama of an earth.
Adios con paz y amor,
David

I was wonderfully reminded last Thursday just how small our world is. While returning from an informative afternoon activity through my language school learning about Nicaragua's abundance of natural medicinal plants, (they even have a book cataloguing the different species and their medical benefits that I had to buy) I ran into none other than our fellow CANista David on the side of the Pan-American! Had either of us had any idea of each other's stay in Estelí, our sudden meeting would have been less incredible, yet there we were, clearly not in Santa Cruz and absolutely ecstatic to have found each other in such a coincidental manner. We spent the afternoon at the serene and beautiful cafe la casita drinking juice, sharing bread and cheese, and discovering just how connected our lives are at this point in time. He was in Nicaragua travelling with a group of his childhood friends, and I happily agreed to join them for a weekend trip to the nature reserve Miraflor. While the sights and sounds of Estelí are certainly exciting, I was ready for a few days of serene beauty and farm life that characterizes the population within the reserve.

However, I was not prepared for the sensational beauty of the Nicaraguan countryside. To the north of Estelí lies a nearly untouched landscape; the only signs of human existence consisted of a few free roaming cows and the occasional campesino driveway. We passed a never-ending blend of evergreen and green, stunning and expansive plains broken by cookie-cutter hills and mountains, lush forests and fincas growing bananas, beans, corn, and various agricultural products. The bus, not surprisingly, was stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey, with passengers eventually forced to ride on the roof. We arrived in Miraflor and made the mildly short trek to our home-stay. And what a hike it was! Every hill and turn presented another spectacular sight. White horses dotted the hillsides, happy cows munched on an endless supply of greenery (California cows have nothing on these guys), and a lone pig snorted happily as we passed despite being hopelessly tangled to his fence-post. This truly is a farmers paradise, I thought to myself as the sunset wrapped it's final rays around us and we arrived at our home-stay.

The family was polite and very hospitable, providing endless smiles and the best food on the trip to date. Every ingredient was grown on their farm, save the eggs, which I discovered the next morning had made the short trip from a neighboring farm. That night David and I had the first of many beautiful conversations with Jose, who contains an endless array of knowledge about medicinal plants and organic farming. While talking about the importance of organic farming and the need to preserve the natural harmony and symbiotic roots of organic farming in the region and beyond, I was struck by the pure poetry of his words. This place truly is a land of poets; David and I were giddy with anticipation for the opportunity to learn more as we fell asleep to the sounds of the finca.

The next morning, following another delicious meal, we assisted Jose in the planting of young coffee shoots using organic fertilizer and compost (!). Every few minutes he would stop to point out this plant or that, listing the various medicinal properties they held. There were even plants that we recognized from back home, plants considered nothing more than a weed by most accounts. I was sad to leave after such a short visit, but quickly remembered that I have ten weeks of finca life to look forward to in the very near future. David and I parted ways yesterday, but our mere acquaintance has blossomed with just a few short days into an exciting and promising new friendship. I wish him the best on the rest of his travels, including his eventual arrival to the Yucatán for a magical CAN internship experience of his own.

I can't thank CAN enough for the wonderful opportunity I have been provided, for the friends I have already made and will continue to make over the next 10+ weeks. My life is changing before my very eyes, and I wake up everyday excited for what lies ahead in this beautiful country that feels more and more like home with every passing moment.

Abrazos, besos, y la pura vida,

Taylor

P.S. I recently recalled a song titled "Sandinista" off of one of my more listened to CD's Drums and Guns by the group Low. It felt like a more appropriate time then ever to look up the lyrics while here:

Where would you go if the gun fell in your hands?
Home to the kids or to sympathetic friends?
Oh sandinista, oh sandinista
Oh sandinista, take my side

Deep through the clouds hear them marching up slowly
Fresh with the blood of your father so holy
Oh sandinista, oh sandinista
Oh sandinista, take my side

Hola de Nicaragua! Upon safe arrival in Managua, I made the fairly short drive north into Esteli, located in the nicaraguan highlands. The city, with more than 100,000 inhabitants, is loud, colorful, and bustling with activity. Because of it's rich revolutionary past, many of the people here are direct descendents of the sandanista's and speak openly of their political views. I am currently living only a block from my spanish school, with a wonderfully polite family (abuelita, padres, y dos ninos) and a medical student visiting from San Francisco.
Classes are draining, and I am discovering my love of the afternoon siesta. Each day, the other students and I are taken to a different place of cultural interest. On Monday, we visited the Casa de Cultura and learned about Nicaragua's rich artistic culture. Esteli, in particular, is known for it's vast amount of colorful murals, which grace the walls of many of the buildings here. Yesterday, we visited Las Mujeres, a group of women who use the town's trash to make organic compost and paper. They then use the paper to create beautiful arts and crafts for sale to both Nicaraguenses and tourists. Today we visited the local library, which is powered by a solar panel! Classes are taught there, and the children learn about the various forms of renewable energy that can be employed in the more rural areas of Nicaragua. I checked out a book of famous Nicaraguan poems, for there is a saying here that, loosely translated, says, “everyone in Nicaragua is a poet until they prove otherwise.” The poems are tragic, symbolic, sensual, political, social, and above all, beautiful. What a way to view the Spanish language!

I haven't managed to take many pictures, but since it was father's day at my host family's house this last Sunday, I couldn't help snapping a few photos of their adorable children, Katherine and Michael (named after the one and only Michael Jackson. I kid you not, they share birthdays.)

Too cute!

I can't wait to get out of the city and into the Nicaraguan countryside, but for now, there is an endless supply of this fabulous country right here in Esteli, and I can't wait to discover more of it.
I miss you all back in Santa Cruz and beyond.

Abrazos y Besos

Taylor