One of the most infamous experiences for anyone visiting Latin American countries is riding the public bus - affectionately known among gringos as the chicken bus. There are various very logical explanations for the origins of the title "chicken bus." One is that there are often various forms of livestock among the passengers - especially in the outlying villages - including chickens in rope nets, pigs and a herd of goats tied to the roof rack. (How the goats got up there in the first place remains a mystery, but creates a very vivid picture in my mind.) Another explanation for the term chicken bus is that the drivers play chicken with other traffic when they drive. This is an irrefutable fact, but not necessarily a lock on the origin of the name.
For the uninitiated, the bus system here is truly free enterprise. Various groups or individuals own and operate the buses that transport people, freight and livestock from village to town and back. Most operate along the same roads...so the bus in the front of the pack gets the paying passengers. When the front bus stops to pick up passengers, the following bus leap-frogs ahead and gets the next group. This creates a competitive environment, whereby the front bus wants to go as fast as it can to gain some separation from the bus behind, possibly maintaining the pole position as he adds passengers and then speeds off. I believe this is where most Indy drivers learned their skills...except they don't stop to pick up passengers during the race.
(Warning to those who have never ridden a chicken bus: When loading, the driver watches the foot of the last person boarding. When that last foot separates by only millimeters from the pavement, the accelerator pedal goes to the medal. Unless you are holding on firmly, the acceleration slams you down the aisle for at least 10 seats, sometimes on top of other passengers. But they're used to it.)
On the plus side, the bus will stop to pick you up regardless of where you are along the route. The bus stop is wherever you are when you lift your hand. This feature also poses a problem for the uninitiated riders. If you are standing in the aisle when an unexpected passenger stop occurs, you can involuntarily find yourself right back at the front door again. Or, if you are lucky, a larger passenger will be in front of you creating a plug in the aisle, which has to be at least four-inches wide. In this case, you will merely find yourself compressed into the person in front of you, with everyone else compressed into you. This acceleration to the rear of the bus and compression toward the front of the bus continues until you depart at your destination. At least you hope it's your destination...because between accelerations and compressions you seldom are able to glance out the heavily shaded windows to determine you present location.
For those truly skilled in the art of chicken bus riding, ejecting one's self through the rear door, in some cultures called the emergency door, within a mile or so of your ultimate destination creates the ultimate high. This is especially true if he bus is still traveling down the road at 20 mph in heavy traffic. (Which brings up a topic for later discussion - following a chicken bus in your car when it ejects passengers onto the roadway in front of you.)
You may ask, why would any sane person subject them self to this kind of craziness. Because it's cheap. It only costs about Q20 - $2.60 to ride all the way to the city! When you get there, your clothes are pressed, you are wearing the perfume of that large person in front of you (for free), sometimes all that heavy stuff like keys and money are no longer in your pocket and you have survived one of the world's most extreme sporting challenges. The other being, driving in a herd of chicken buses on a narrow road. Now that's extreme! You can have your shark diving, your sky diving, your rock climbing. As for me, I'm sticking with chicken bus surfing until it becomes an Olympic event. I can see me on that top step now! Holding my crushed trophy!!!
Monday, April 7, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Where have I been???
I can't believe it's been nearly two months since I last posted...but then, I'm the only one who reads this thing, and I've been too busy to do that, so it really doesn't matter I guess.
I do have an excuse. You see, the week of Thanksgiving, I picked up a little cough...that gradually grew into a big cough. So, putting on my medico hat, I self-diagnosed and got four or five different types of cough medicine to suppress the cough. Here in Guatemala, one can get almost any kind of prescription drug without a prescription - or even visiting a doctor. Come three days before Christmas, the cough was well developed and deep - and I developed a fever, with the chills to go with it. Finally, we went to see a medico. I had developed "bilateral pneumonia." All by myself. And cough medicine was the LAST thing the doctor wanted me to be taking. After a two-week series of serious antibiotics,I'm on the mend. No more pneumonia...but I'm still working to get my strength back. Yes, the medical profession in Third World countries is alive and well. I didn't need to make an appointment to see the doctor. He spoke enough Engish to diagnose me. The entire examin, including x-rays was $52. Drugs not included.
So now that I've explored the Guatemalan medical profession for you and found it to be excellent, I'm trying to come up with some other experence you may find engrossing. Maybe a hike up an active volcano...or a trip to Monterrico and it's famous black beaches. Stay tuned....
I do have an excuse. You see, the week of Thanksgiving, I picked up a little cough...that gradually grew into a big cough. So, putting on my medico hat, I self-diagnosed and got four or five different types of cough medicine to suppress the cough. Here in Guatemala, one can get almost any kind of prescription drug without a prescription - or even visiting a doctor. Come three days before Christmas, the cough was well developed and deep - and I developed a fever, with the chills to go with it. Finally, we went to see a medico. I had developed "bilateral pneumonia." All by myself. And cough medicine was the LAST thing the doctor wanted me to be taking. After a two-week series of serious antibiotics,I'm on the mend. No more pneumonia...but I'm still working to get my strength back. Yes, the medical profession in Third World countries is alive and well. I didn't need to make an appointment to see the doctor. He spoke enough Engish to diagnose me. The entire examin, including x-rays was $52. Drugs not included.
So now that I've explored the Guatemalan medical profession for you and found it to be excellent, I'm trying to come up with some other experence you may find engrossing. Maybe a hike up an active volcano...or a trip to Monterrico and it's famous black beaches. Stay tuned....
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
What's with that "remember me" check box?
What’s with the “remember me on this computer” check box?
Okay, I write stuff for our other blog about our life here in Guatemala. That blog site is http://dennyandphyllis.blogspot.com. I recommend you check it out because it’s a whole lot more interesting than this one.
Today’s topic on Snavely Speaks is, what is with that little check box on the sign-in box on the various websites that says, “Remember me on this computer”?
I check that little box every time, in hopes that it may remember me. But the next time I check in, it’s already forgotten me. I’ve ruled out a time limit on “remembering” me, because I have purposely logged out and immediately logged in again…and it still doesn’t remember me.
I considered that the name “Scheminske” may be way to long to remember, but it’s only remembering my sign-in name – which is really short. So now I’m starting to develop a complex. I wonder if it remembers other peoples sign-in names. Am I being excluded for some reason? Can I claim digital discrimination and call Al Sharpton and have him stand outside someone’s home with a megaphone and shout obscenities until I get justice? What’s the deal? Is this like the telephone customer “service” sites that – before you can get a real person on the phone – ask for your credit card number, your age, your personal secret password, your social security number, your children’s names and the last time you had your teeth checked as you wait in the queue…and when the agent actually answers, you get asked the same questions all over again? Is it just to give you something to fiddle with while you wait?
The answer to this question could be the one that breaks open the secrets of the universe. So, please, if you have the answer, share it with others. Don’t keep it to yourself. If it only saves one life, it’s worth it. This could end global warming. AHA! That’s it. The reason it’s not remembering my sign-in information is that its worried about global warming. It can’t remember because all of its digital brain is stuffed with global warming issues. Wow. Thanks for helping with this. I feel a whole lot better.
Now if I can only remember my sign-in name and pass word.
Okay, I write stuff for our other blog about our life here in Guatemala. That blog site is http://dennyandphyllis.blogspot.com. I recommend you check it out because it’s a whole lot more interesting than this one.
Today’s topic on Snavely Speaks is, what is with that little check box on the sign-in box on the various websites that says, “Remember me on this computer”?
I check that little box every time, in hopes that it may remember me. But the next time I check in, it’s already forgotten me. I’ve ruled out a time limit on “remembering” me, because I have purposely logged out and immediately logged in again…and it still doesn’t remember me.
I considered that the name “Scheminske” may be way to long to remember, but it’s only remembering my sign-in name – which is really short. So now I’m starting to develop a complex. I wonder if it remembers other peoples sign-in names. Am I being excluded for some reason? Can I claim digital discrimination and call Al Sharpton and have him stand outside someone’s home with a megaphone and shout obscenities until I get justice? What’s the deal? Is this like the telephone customer “service” sites that – before you can get a real person on the phone – ask for your credit card number, your age, your personal secret password, your social security number, your children’s names and the last time you had your teeth checked as you wait in the queue…and when the agent actually answers, you get asked the same questions all over again? Is it just to give you something to fiddle with while you wait?
The answer to this question could be the one that breaks open the secrets of the universe. So, please, if you have the answer, share it with others. Don’t keep it to yourself. If it only saves one life, it’s worth it. This could end global warming. AHA! That’s it. The reason it’s not remembering my sign-in information is that its worried about global warming. It can’t remember because all of its digital brain is stuffed with global warming issues. Wow. Thanks for helping with this. I feel a whole lot better.
Now if I can only remember my sign-in name and pass word.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
An amazing place...
It's raining. Not surprising, I guess, as we near the end of the rainy season, but rain is so calming. A gentle rain, like we have here - mostly, anyway - slows the heart, makes the eyelids heavy and quiets the spirit. It also waters some of the most plentiful vegetation I have ever seen. Like the garden of Eden. Our landlord told me a story about a time when he stacked some fence posts in a shed during the rainy season. There was a "skiff" of dirt on the floor. When he came back a few weeks later to install the fence posts, they had sprouted roots!
This week I was taking a closer look at some of the plants in our garden - our yard. I noticed that some of the blooms had insects on them, munching their way through the petals. I figured they'd shortly consume all the blossoms on the plant. What I didn't realize is that the plant would sprout blossoms faster than the bugs could eat them. Amazing! The bugs get their fill, and there are still dozens of blossoms covering the plant for us to enjoy. No insecticide needed. There's plenty for all. I think that was God's plan all along. I love it when a good plan comes together.
Today was "gringo" day in Antigua. Apparently, a Holland-America ship docked on the west coast of Guatemala, and hundreds of toursits boarded buses and came to our little berg. We've only been here a month, but have walked nearly every calle at least one time, and are pretty good by now at figuring out north and south (the volcano is south, the cross is north). But many of our visitors were losing their way and, seeing us and realizing we spoke English (which we plan to maintain, by the way), were asking us how to get back to the square and their tour bus. As the seasoned, one-month residents we are, we helped them find their way, which can be difficult since few of the streets are marked. So it's more a matter of counting blocks..."go three blocks this way, go right and then go four blocks to the square." On the map, the streets are marked, which is totally misleading. In reality, I would guess fewer than 12 street signs exist. The good thing is, the streets of the city are all cobble stone. So we warned the people, "if you start walking on asphalt, turn around...you've gone too far." Probably sage advice for us all.
The best tip for directions is, go into one of the many travel agencies lining the streets here. Many of the Guatematecos there speak pretty decent English, and they are pretty good at giving directions...even when clouds hide the volcano.
We are having a blast here...meeting new people, discovering new things and testing our limited Spanish skills. So far, we haven't hit "the wall" people predict will come. When it does, I'll share that with you, too. More mas tarde.
This week I was taking a closer look at some of the plants in our garden - our yard. I noticed that some of the blooms had insects on them, munching their way through the petals. I figured they'd shortly consume all the blossoms on the plant. What I didn't realize is that the plant would sprout blossoms faster than the bugs could eat them. Amazing! The bugs get their fill, and there are still dozens of blossoms covering the plant for us to enjoy. No insecticide needed. There's plenty for all. I think that was God's plan all along. I love it when a good plan comes together.
Today was "gringo" day in Antigua. Apparently, a Holland-America ship docked on the west coast of Guatemala, and hundreds of toursits boarded buses and came to our little berg. We've only been here a month, but have walked nearly every calle at least one time, and are pretty good by now at figuring out north and south (the volcano is south, the cross is north). But many of our visitors were losing their way and, seeing us and realizing we spoke English (which we plan to maintain, by the way), were asking us how to get back to the square and their tour bus. As the seasoned, one-month residents we are, we helped them find their way, which can be difficult since few of the streets are marked. So it's more a matter of counting blocks..."go three blocks this way, go right and then go four blocks to the square." On the map, the streets are marked, which is totally misleading. In reality, I would guess fewer than 12 street signs exist. The good thing is, the streets of the city are all cobble stone. So we warned the people, "if you start walking on asphalt, turn around...you've gone too far." Probably sage advice for us all.
The best tip for directions is, go into one of the many travel agencies lining the streets here. Many of the Guatematecos there speak pretty decent English, and they are pretty good at giving directions...even when clouds hide the volcano.
We are having a blast here...meeting new people, discovering new things and testing our limited Spanish skills. So far, we haven't hit "the wall" people predict will come. When it does, I'll share that with you, too. More mas tarde.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
The First Posting
Okay. I'm here in a foreign country where no one has heard the term "carbon footprint." Well, no one but the gringos, that is. It's wonderful to be able to breathe again without all the guilt associated with it back in Boulder, CO. Which makes me wonder how all those people there can be running, jogging, biking, hiking and all that other stuff that requires even heavier breathing. Don't they know they're destroying the planet?
I considered proposing a breath tax to the city council, to try to cut down on all the unnecessary breathing. I have no doubt it would have passed, the city council being the feeling people they are. But another group beat me out with their Kyoto tax. I have to admit, Kyoto does have more zing to it - not to mention it just feels better.
The Boulder Kyoto tax, according to the proponents - several of whom are receiving a sweet salary from the tax money - is going to clear the air in Boulder and provide free energy audits for residents. I sent them an Email asking if they had set a basis point for the air quality in Boulder, just to make sure they could tell the difference between now and when they can all see the sun again through the heavy haze. I also informed them that Xcel, the local, publicly regulated energy company, already provided free energy audits - for every customer anywhere in the state. I got a nice form letter back thanking me for feeling good about the Kyoto tax.
All this makes me think: I wonder how much carbon dioxide the billions of prairie dogs in Boulder are emitting. And the college students. Do you realize how clean the air would be if the University of Colorado moved to, say, Beijing? It would also drastically cut the number of DUI arrests for the Boulder police department - but it would cut into the tips the pizza delivery people make. So I guess there has to be a balance somewhere. Nature abhors a vacuum.
That leads directly to another revelation. A vacuum is probably what accounts for Boulder's winds - 50 mph sustained with 90 mph gusts. It's the air trying to get to the vacuum between the thousands of ears in that city! No wonder the wind drops off in the summer, when all the students and faculty are off in Third World countries somewhere doing highly-funded research on the local beers and chicas. Good work if you can get it, I guess. But, somewhere along the line, we all need to grow up - or become life-time students or tenured faculty.
Okay. Enough stream of consciousness. More later...and maybe a photo or two also. I would have put one on this time, but I don't want to scare you away so soon. It's great to live in the Third World! Next time I'll tell you about this place.
I considered proposing a breath tax to the city council, to try to cut down on all the unnecessary breathing. I have no doubt it would have passed, the city council being the feeling people they are. But another group beat me out with their Kyoto tax. I have to admit, Kyoto does have more zing to it - not to mention it just feels better.
The Boulder Kyoto tax, according to the proponents - several of whom are receiving a sweet salary from the tax money - is going to clear the air in Boulder and provide free energy audits for residents. I sent them an Email asking if they had set a basis point for the air quality in Boulder, just to make sure they could tell the difference between now and when they can all see the sun again through the heavy haze. I also informed them that Xcel, the local, publicly regulated energy company, already provided free energy audits - for every customer anywhere in the state. I got a nice form letter back thanking me for feeling good about the Kyoto tax.
All this makes me think: I wonder how much carbon dioxide the billions of prairie dogs in Boulder are emitting. And the college students. Do you realize how clean the air would be if the University of Colorado moved to, say, Beijing? It would also drastically cut the number of DUI arrests for the Boulder police department - but it would cut into the tips the pizza delivery people make. So I guess there has to be a balance somewhere. Nature abhors a vacuum.
That leads directly to another revelation. A vacuum is probably what accounts for Boulder's winds - 50 mph sustained with 90 mph gusts. It's the air trying to get to the vacuum between the thousands of ears in that city! No wonder the wind drops off in the summer, when all the students and faculty are off in Third World countries somewhere doing highly-funded research on the local beers and chicas. Good work if you can get it, I guess. But, somewhere along the line, we all need to grow up - or become life-time students or tenured faculty.
Okay. Enough stream of consciousness. More later...and maybe a photo or two also. I would have put one on this time, but I don't want to scare you away so soon. It's great to live in the Third World! Next time I'll tell you about this place.
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