I had my own visit to the Doctor today due to some nagging ear pain that was getting worse instead of going away. My ear canal far too swollen for a diagnosis, I have been relegated to anti-inflammatories and a mess of other pills. Worst of all is the request that I too keep my head above water and I'm not allowed to drown my sorrows with any alcohol. So, now begins stage two of my vacation trying to enjoy Sayulita sans surfing and cerveza. I think my goal will be to try my best to match Joya's photographic prowess about town. Perhaps in a couple days I will try and venture back out in the water for a bit with the help of some ear plugs.
If nothing else, I will enjoy sitting on the beach watching my travel-mates tear it up on the waves ;)
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Playa de Los Muertos
Thanks to Nic's aural injury and Jen and I growing weary of our own brand of surfing, we spent some time exploring a neighboring beach to the south of Sayulita. We found directions online and also got some pointers from our neighbors on how to get there.
However, that didn't seem to squelch our touristic ability to get lost. Well, lost is probably a pretty strong word considering the Pacific Ocean is always within walking, and to a lesser extent hearing distance. Along the way we got to see a bit of the underbelly of Sayulita. Apparently all the homes aren't has plush and comfy as the one we are renting. In fact, many don't even have walls. We were able to witness a second floor kitchen conversation between a mother and child due to the lack of a western wall on their building. This definitely caught my eye, and if not for already feeling like I was intruding on their privacy by just walking on the road, I opted to not raise my camera.
In the end we found that our wrong turn simply amounted to walking two to three times the distance necessary to arrive at our destination. Somehow after multiple forks in the road we managed to take a path leading directly to Playa de Los Muertos or Beach of the Dead. If that doesn't sound like a good vacation spot then I don't know what is! This beach earns it's name by the cemetery that lies northeast of it. One thing Jen pointed out on our lengthy bus ride from Puerto Vallarta to Sayulita was the number and condition of the cemeteries along the way. She mentioned that it looked that more effort has gone into housing the dead than the living. However, it's fair to say that a number of the cemeteries aren't in that great of shape.
The cemetery itself is nestled into the hillside in it's own private section of jungle. This provides for a beautiful setting for some of the sites, but at the same time the growth and neglect gave me concern for the others. Between the erosion from the extremely heavy rains and the lack of growth control it would not have surprised me to see a limb or two unearthed. While I was careful where I placed my feet as I walked through a cemetery which clearly did not lay out "plots" for its inhabitants, I noticed a lot of trash strewn about. Along with the trash were a lot of weathered decorations and underwater candles. The cemetery definitely felt lonely as if its been a good while since anyone has come by.
After a little bit of research the unkempt feel of the cemetery could very well be the remnants of last year's Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead). In Mexico, the first and second day of November mark days of remembrance and celebration of the lives of those who have passed on. During this time, the family members left behind decorate the graves of their loved ones. Since it's September, that means 10 months have passed since the last celebration. You can imagine what 10 months in the jungle will do to a wreath or bouquet of flowers. Perhaps this is why many of the flowers left are artificial. In some cases, altars to the deceased are created in their former homes and are adorned with candles, skulls made of sugar, and for some their favorite food or drink. They are also known to have fresh water to refresh the weary soul. This could explain the jugs of what we assumed to be water on some of the graves in the cemetery. While most in Mexico commemorate the day of the dead, there are customs for honoring the deceased that are highly localized. I don't imagine we could fully understand everything about this cemetery without conversing with a local familiar with it.
Unlike the maintenance of the cemetery, much care has gone into the creation of some of the grave sites. The headstones are typically ornate and embellished with cherubic statues. Most every grave site is adorned with a crucifix. Statues of Mary can also be found and they take the form of the Mexican rendering of her likeness that you are likely familiar with.
On the other side of the cemetery lies a secluded beach which is excellent for swimming. Rock formations jutting out on both ends of the beach create a protected cove and a sense of privacy for the handful of people that are willing to abandon the glorious surfing to the north. We spent some time floating in the 80 degree water (don't worry, Nic obeyed his doctor and kept his head above water) and appreciating the new scenery in the much calmer waves. This also gave us a chance to hone our synchronized swimming routines and practice our Ariel impressions.
However, that didn't seem to squelch our touristic ability to get lost. Well, lost is probably a pretty strong word considering the Pacific Ocean is always within walking, and to a lesser extent hearing distance. Along the way we got to see a bit of the underbelly of Sayulita. Apparently all the homes aren't has plush and comfy as the one we are renting. In fact, many don't even have walls. We were able to witness a second floor kitchen conversation between a mother and child due to the lack of a western wall on their building. This definitely caught my eye, and if not for already feeling like I was intruding on their privacy by just walking on the road, I opted to not raise my camera.In the end we found that our wrong turn simply amounted to walking two to three times the distance necessary to arrive at our destination. Somehow after multiple forks in the road we managed to take a path leading directly to Playa de Los Muertos or Beach of the Dead. If that doesn't sound like a good vacation spot then I don't know what is! This beach earns it's name by the cemetery that lies northeast of it. One thing Jen pointed out on our lengthy bus ride from Puerto Vallarta to Sayulita was the number and condition of the cemeteries along the way. She mentioned that it looked that more effort has gone into housing the dead than the living. However, it's fair to say that a number of the cemeteries aren't in that great of shape.
The cemetery itself is nestled into the hillside in it's own private section of jungle. This provides for a beautiful setting for some of the sites, but at the same time the growth and neglect gave me concern for the others. Between the erosion from the extremely heavy rains and the lack of growth control it would not have surprised me to see a limb or two unearthed. While I was careful where I placed my feet as I walked through a cemetery which clearly did not lay out "plots" for its inhabitants, I noticed a lot of trash strewn about. Along with the trash were a lot of weathered decorations and underwater candles. The cemetery definitely felt lonely as if its been a good while since anyone has come by. After a little bit of research the unkempt feel of the cemetery could very well be the remnants of last year's Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead). In Mexico, the first and second day of November mark days of remembrance and celebration of the lives of those who have passed on. During this time, the family members left behind decorate the graves of their loved ones. Since it's September, that means 10 months have passed since the last celebration. You can imagine what 10 months in the jungle will do to a wreath or bouquet of flowers. Perhaps this is why many of the flowers left are artificial. In some cases, altars to the deceased are created in their former homes and are adorned with candles, skulls made of sugar, and for some their favorite food or drink. They are also known to have fresh water to refresh the weary soul. This could explain the jugs of what we assumed to be water on some of the graves in the cemetery. While most in Mexico commemorate the day of the dead, there are customs for honoring the deceased that are highly localized. I don't imagine we could fully understand everything about this cemetery without conversing with a local familiar with it.
Unlike the maintenance of the cemetery, much care has gone into the creation of some of the grave sites. The headstones are typically ornate and embellished with cherubic statues. Most every grave site is adorned with a crucifix. Statues of Mary can also be found and they take the form of the Mexican rendering of her likeness that you are likely familiar with.
On the other side of the cemetery lies a secluded beach which is excellent for swimming. Rock formations jutting out on both ends of the beach create a protected cove and a sense of privacy for the handful of people that are willing to abandon the glorious surfing to the north. We spent some time floating in the 80 degree water (don't worry, Nic obeyed his doctor and kept his head above water) and appreciating the new scenery in the much calmer waves. This also gave us a chance to hone our synchronized swimming routines and practice our Ariel impressions.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Surfing is Hard
I think most people have an impression of surfing that is a bit ideallic. That any beach bum could do it, playing on the waves, carving it up.. how hard could it be. I think the truth is closer that you NEED to be a beach bum to become truly excellent at surfing, it isn't a great casual sport.
Unlike almost any other sport, surfing never lets you practice a particular skill over and over under the same condition. When learning how to mountain bike, you can always pick the bike up carry it back over the log and try again under until you master it. When surfing, if you don't nail your pop up and slip off the board, you instead have to fight your way back through the crashing waves and wait for another wave, who's circumstances will be completely different and only slightly relevant to your last try. It's a sport where do-overs are non-existent and persistence alone isn't enough, you just need to spend tons of hours in the water.
Until Joya arrives, I'm the one with the most experience, but that isn't saying much. Getting hammered for a month straight in Hermosa last December mostly just taught me how not to drown and maybe a bit on how to stand up quickly, but I still can't ride a wave worth a damn. And although Eric and Jen have much nicer conditions to learn the art, it is still a steep slope. In short, we all pretty much suck.
An atypical and highly successful two hour outing might involve us catching two or three waves each for a few seconds of riding. But for those three waves, we fought to catch a dozen more, were called off a dozen more and probably bailed on half a dozen as we were getting up. There isn't much positive reinforcement going on.
But I'm not complaining, being out on the water and splashing in the waves makes it all fun, and those few seconds you ARE riding the wave make it all worthwhile. We all look at the incredible surfers about and can only imagine what it must feel like to carve through the waves as they do, to fly off the lip only to land back into the wave, to slide down the face backwards after a cut back. To reach that level, I think you really do have to be a beach bum, but sometimes it sure looks like it would be worth it.
That big package from the store.. (Pt 2)
In our continuing quest to figure out what to do with our excess of bland chip like doodads, Jen decided to use them as building material for a sail boat. Not too surprisingly it floated quite well in the bathtub, though I'm not sure how much longer it would have lasted before losing its integrity.
Any suggestions for what to do with the remaining eighteen? We must use them somehow, and clearly they were not made for eating.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Shredded Feet
Earlier this week it seemed I couldn't go to the beach without coming back with some new lacerations on my feet. Amid calls to not put my feet down when I get off the board, I was pretty adamant there was little I could do to avoid it. The further north you go on the two waves in Sayulita the closer you get to the shallow entry covered in rocks laced with flesh from my feet.The safest bet for me is to constantly make sure I'm working the southern shoulder of the wave which serves two purposes -- staying out of the locals way and leaving less blood in the sand when I leave. The dog and iguana population have ensured that the roads here aren't exactly the cleanest surface for open wounds, so I'm glad I seem to have found a way to avoid getting new ones.
Tiempo de Cerveza
There is one interesting side effect to having endless days of sunshine and humidity: a seemingly bottomless thirst for ice cold cervezas. It's no surprise that most Mexican beers are light and refreshing, they are perfectly suited to dull the edge of the incredibly hot and humid afternoons and evenings. They are also so easy to drink that Eric and I find ourselves polishing off a six pack per day, and that's when trying to exercise some restraint. Meanwhile, Jen was born with some kind of immunization against beer and prefers the water.
To this I say "Nonsense", when a bottle of beer can be had for 80 cents (compare that to bottled water) it is simply a fool's game to drink anything else!
Salud!
Surfing Etiquette
Probably the biggest thing I was concerned about coming into this trip was dealing with experienced and/or local surfers.
I had worries that a newbie as well as a blindingly white tourist would do a lot to cramp their style. I'm totally okay with a fair amount of localism. It's only fair really, I could imagine living and surfing here and constantly fighting with new surfers who know little if anything about the sport. Nic coached me a bit on the finer points of surfing etiquette and my pal google tried to fill in the gaps.
The most important thing is to not drop-in on anybody. This basically means whoever is closer to where the wave is breaking (and on his feet) gets the right of way. At the same time, some level of respect should be given to the local surfers who are capable of ripping up every wave they come across. It is generally bad form to join a lineup of experienced surfers if you are just learning, so it's better to hang out on the shoulder of the wave or closer in to shore and try to gain balance there. The problem here is that the good surfers use the entire wave and pretty much any time there is a surfer to your left -- which is almost always, you are considered to be dropping in on them.
I was starting to get frustrated to the point of not wanting to surf after getting called off 4 or 5 consecutive waves which I had caught. Thankfully it turns out there seems to be a bit of an unwritten rule out in Sayulita -- or perhaps it just works out this way naturally. The early morning is apparently gringo hour. There is only a handful of surfers and only a couple pretty good ones. None of the really aggro guys are out which makes it much more mellow and fun for a beginner. By starting early, the day's schedule gets bumped up and your post-siesta surfing can then take place while everyone else is resting. But man, there are a few REALLY good surfers here, and not coincidentally they are the most aggressive as well.
I had worries that a newbie as well as a blindingly white tourist would do a lot to cramp their style. I'm totally okay with a fair amount of localism. It's only fair really, I could imagine living and surfing here and constantly fighting with new surfers who know little if anything about the sport. Nic coached me a bit on the finer points of surfing etiquette and my pal google tried to fill in the gaps. The most important thing is to not drop-in on anybody. This basically means whoever is closer to where the wave is breaking (and on his feet) gets the right of way. At the same time, some level of respect should be given to the local surfers who are capable of ripping up every wave they come across. It is generally bad form to join a lineup of experienced surfers if you are just learning, so it's better to hang out on the shoulder of the wave or closer in to shore and try to gain balance there. The problem here is that the good surfers use the entire wave and pretty much any time there is a surfer to your left -- which is almost always, you are considered to be dropping in on them.
I was starting to get frustrated to the point of not wanting to surf after getting called off 4 or 5 consecutive waves which I had caught. Thankfully it turns out there seems to be a bit of an unwritten rule out in Sayulita -- or perhaps it just works out this way naturally. The early morning is apparently gringo hour. There is only a handful of surfers and only a couple pretty good ones. None of the really aggro guys are out which makes it much more mellow and fun for a beginner. By starting early, the day's schedule gets bumped up and your post-siesta surfing can then take place while everyone else is resting. But man, there are a few REALLY good surfers here, and not coincidentally they are the most aggressive as well.
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