We just got back from another trip to the Guatemalan border. This made our third trip so we are beginning to establish a routine. We found a very comfortable hotel in Tonala, Chiapas where we stay the first night. The next day we drive to the border, get our new visas, then drive back to Tonala. The next day we drive back to Don Pedrillo. It makes three short days of driving.

We are still accosted by the scam artists at the border but now ignore them the best we can. Some of them are very persistent! You have to become rude before some accept the message you want to be left alone. The biggest scam is the exchange of pesos to Guatemalan money. People walk around with wads of money looking to buy pesos. Their exchange rates are much less than the official exchange rates so the unsuspecting tourist can be gouged pretty good. We have to have our passports stamped in Guatemala showing entry and exit. One of the favorite tricks of money changers is to convince you that the Guatemalan immigration office will not accept pesos, but they do.

When we arrive back on the Mexican side we feel like we are home again.

While renewing our permit for our truck in Mexico, we met a couple of missionaries who work in Guatemala. Michael and Kambria along with their two young girls were driving up to Northern Texas. They normally drive up the Gulf coast of Mexico to Matamoros which is a curvy, hilly, two lane drive. It's a very tedious drive. It's not uncommon to come up behind ten cars trying to pass a slow moving, heavy laden, double trailer semi. It can take up to an hour before you reach the semi traveling at speeds down to ten miles an hour then get your chance to pass when there is a short stretch of straight road. Years ago we discovered that driving inland was much quicker and safer. By chance, Michael and his family had stopped at La Puerta del Sol, our hotel. We explained the new route to Michael and decided to travel together as far as our home. I received an email from him explaining that they'd just passed into the US. We hope to see them on their way back to Guatemala.

Southern Chiapas and along the Guatemalan border is very rain forest-like: a lot of rain, lush vegetation, and very humid. You have to sympathize with all of the people that live without air conditioning.

Talisman, Chiapas  is separated from Guatemala by the Suchiate River. Crossing into Guatemala is as strange as passing from the US into Mexico. Like many border towns Talisman, Guatemala seems very seedy. Michael told me that the highway system in Guatemala is as different as the road system is in Mexico compared to the US. Must be rough driving.

The Suchiate River.

Street view in Guatemala.

Notice the missing presence of much auto traffic.

Most bridge traffic is on foot or these mototaxis.

This is from the Mexican side looking towards Guatemala. Quite a difference from the border crossing into Matamoros.

Hotel Puerta del Sol

The hotel costs thirty seven dollars a night. Quite a deal for a clean, safe, hotel with air conditioning, a pool, fast internet, and a restaurant.

The store is a small Soriana. It's right across the street from the hotel. The Auto Zone is new. It was completely built in six months. There was no sign of it on our last trip.

Travel for us has changed dramatically because of our increased ability to speak Spanish. Asking for directions is less complicated and we often actually understand them. The process of obtaining our visas is much smoother because we know the procedure but are also able to communicate much better. A major advantage is the ability to stop and chat with folks along our way to ask about their lives and answer questions about ours. We have found the people of Chiapas to be warm and friendly and it’s such a beautiful state. The highways we travel are amongst the best in Mexico.

In Tonala we purchased a barbequed chicken from a gentleman. He was set up in front of a Soriana (large store). While we were waiting we struck up a conversation. He had crossed the border into the US in his early teens with the plan of being taken to Canada. Something happened at the border that resulted in him losing his ride. He eventually ended up in Atlanta where he was taken in by an American family. I was bursting with pride as he recounted his time with the family that saw to his education and taught him to be a young man. I wish I knew the name and address of the family so I could write and thank them for their kindness and generosity.

The teachers here in Oaxaca are back out in the streets again. This year their beef is a new law stipulating that all teachers must take and pass an exam in their area of teaching. So in protest, they block off main thoroughfares with buses or trucks. Not only does this cause much inconvenience for the people that live in Oaxaca de Juarez, it hampers commerce and hurts the tourism trade. I am astounded by the selfishness of the teachers here. Life is very difficult without the disruption of the transportation system. Closed roads add to the difficulty of trying to make a living. I believe this boils down to unqualified people being held accountable and their inability to accept the consequences of their lack of knowledge in their chosen profession.

While teaching along the border in Texas, I was always amazed at the different speeds that Mexican students acquired English. Some newcomers learned very quickly while others who’d resided in the US for years spoke little English. I’m not a linguist nor do I understand much about language acquisition but I have gained an insight from being around Americans here in Oaxaca. It seems to me that the best speakers are those who really desire to improve their Spanish and are good listeners.

The other day in Matalan, Beth and I attended a birthday party. One of the men showed up wearing a Duck Dynasty tee shirt. I started laughing and had to explain I was laughing at the tee shirt and not the man. At the moment it just struck me as odd. There was a picture of the old man on the front. I have no idea what the old man thinks about minorities but he doesn’t strike me as the most accepting person in the world. Anyway it cracked me up to see a Mexican with a picture of a redneck on his tee shirt.

Friday we were invited to Beto's mother's birthday party in Tlacolula. A Mariachi band played for a while before the switch to modern music.

Beth sucking on a Corona. I would guess Indio to be the most popular beer here. Corona is a little more expensive as is Victoria which is our favorite.

The Priest from Tlacolula loves to sing. I've mentioned that he always heads for my guitar when visiting.

Beth trying to explain something over the loud music and in a foreign language.

Normally men and women are separated in fiestas. It reminds me of junior high school dances.

Beth and Beto. Beto has become a very good friend to us.

Here comes the beer. This was one of those fiestas that you didn't get much rest in between drinks. The young man in the background is serving mezcal. The young man in the plaid shirt is from Tule. He recieved his degree in Vancouver, Canada. He speaks English pretty well and I'm sure we'll be seeing him here at Don Pedrillo. That's Beto's dad in the white shirt. He loves to dance.

During and after fiestas I always think back to Brownsville. Arnold and Melba Mendoza invited us to several fiestas as did a brother and sister from Totolapan, Oaxaca. We appreciate the friendship they showed us.

The other day while hoeing, I was listening to music with my little mp3 player. The song "Free" by Zac Brown came on and it really touched me. One of the lines was " We're free, free as we'll ever be". I couldn't help but think that the song pretty well expresses my feelings here. Having good health and being able to experience daily life without a lot of outside pressures is very fulfilling. We are confronted with just enough challenges to keep life interesting but not to the point of feeling overburdened.

We are in the rainy season and new life springs up almost daily. Normally when it rains here it pours but this year we've had some long steady periods of gentle sprinkling. I'd never noticed how much quieter it is when the ground is wet. We haven't had to water our trees for over a week.