The man with a permanent "hang loose" sign

May 30th, 2010: Took a trip up the Nevado del Ruiz which is the highest active volcano in Colombia reaching 17,457 feet. Of coarse I didn't make it to the top...I just walked with a bunch of others for about an hour up before turning back around. Hiking this high again reminds me that no matter what shape I am in...I can always blame being out of breath because of the altitude, not because I haven't worked out since I climb out of my mothers womb - and that was tough. Thinking about it...perhaps it has not been that long ago, but it has been a while.

When heading off the mountain our 2 wheel drive van seemed to try to bury itself in the mud, starting wheels first. After getting out of the vehicle, by the time I tip toed through the mud pit, the back of the van was already filled with hands all shapes and sizes. Pushing forward the tires spun, thinking it was not a good spot standing directly in the back, doing nothing. Feeling as if I needed to help, I placed my hand on what I thought was a locking sliding door on the van. Little did I know as I pushed forward it was going to bite my fingers...every one of them minus my thumb and little ole pinky.

I don't know how I managed to get it out of the door before they were decapitated, but I somehow did. I didn't do anything but feel the aftermath. It looked like I will only be losing 3 finger nails and fortunately no need to visit the doctors to sew those nuggets back on. Close call to being the man with a permanent "hang loose" sign...forcing me to move to Hawaii or some other surfers paradise without being looked at as a freak.

A dogs poker face...

May 29th, 2010: Today I felt that I completely fell for a dogs poker face thinking it was going to bite me or some other walking chew toy in my group. The viscous looking bread of dog came at us from behind barking some unknown obscenities. I then stepped in front of a women to let the dog pass but then realizing it was not going to pass, thinking it was going to go for the woman in the back.

Why...did I then step aside and let her step in front of me as I closed the gap? - as if my skin is tougher than hers...which clearly isn't. I thought it would be better for me to take the injuries instead of her. After my body seemed to involuntarily take an adrenaline shot as I awaited contact. Stumbling a bit from the quick natural boost, I had to smile thinking that I just fell for this dogs wonderfully effective poker face.

It is almost 5:00am...

May 29th, 2010: It is almost 5:00am and I just finished watching the movie Hostel 2. It suppose to be a scary movie about backpackers traveling around and they of course get killed. I am now out in the countryside at a coffee plantation that is ironically a hostel, where I have been staying for the past couple of days.

No other guests or anyone else for that matter are here tonight and the woman who cleans the place is in a house out back somewhere. This is great if I wanted to sneak someone in, run around the hostel naked or be killed...but, I don't want to do any of the above. It is not because of the bug bites in unusual places or because of the cockroaches or rats getting some cheap peaks at me...it is just a little cold in here at the moment.

Trying to stay awake I drink coffee straight out of the machine with no need for sugar or milk. I feel as if I am becoming a "real" coffee drinker or I am just that dehydrated my body is tricking me into drinking almost anything. Thinking about it...why am I trying to stay awake...it is almost 5:00am.

The 8 Standardized Backpackers Questions

May 25th, 2010: Leaving Medellin 2.4505056 days ago, I took a 4.55505059 hour bus ride to Manizales which is a city in the coffee region of Colombia. I am once again a backpacker. Well, I have always been...it is just that I am now back in the hostel in the early evening instead of staying till the wee hours of the night at my friends house. Best of all...now I get to answer the 8 standardized backpacker questions list multiple times throughout the night typically within the first 2 minutes of meeting someone, over and over again.

Here are some sample questions (Q) with my typical answers (A). I think I got most of them. Don´t let me fool you, The reason I know them so well is that I also find myself going off this list from time to time.


Q1: What is your name?
A1: El Tony Taco, Anthony, Miguel Antonio or simply...Tony.
Q2: Where did you come from?
A2: Whatever city I just visited, today my response was Medellin.
Q3: Where are you from?
A3: California.
Q4: How long have you been traveling for?
A4: A little bit - if they ask again...I will say over 13 months.
Q5: Where have you been?
A5: Colombia, Ecuador, Venezuela, and Trinidad for Carnival.
Q6: Where are you going next?
A6: South.
Q7: How much longer are you traveling for?
A7:Dont know...perhaps I will be like Forrest Gump, running and running until one day, I just stop.
Q8: What did you do back at home?
A8: I was an auditor at an accounting firm.

It doesn't matter what language the person asks me speaks, this questions are all known in English. If someone only knows has 10 questions in their entire vocabulary, it would be these 9 questions with...Q10: Where is the bathroom?

Is fighting considered a hobby?

May 24, 2010: It is never good when a man with a flock (yes, the 80`s hair style) and about 15 metal bracelets and a huge girly nose ring at my hostel proceeds to attempt to pick a lock to set free the cold beers in a fridge with a swiss pocket knife. I said nothing as I sat in chair watching from above since his feeble attempt made him look more pathetic than he already was in front of his friends.

Since he is unable to pick a weak padlock, I wouldn't be concerned about my personal items in my room if I had a padlock, but I have a combination lock. I wonder how he is at combinations? Meeting people like this while traveling makes me want to take up fighting for a hobby...just a hobby.

Low expectations = Happiness?

May 20th, 2010: I decided to do a little work today and take a tour that included a horseback ride to some waterfalls outside the small coffee town named Jardin. Sitting on top of this gigantic mammal´s hairy back for a couple of hours went extremely well. I was thrown off guard a little bit when this Canadian girl told me how good of a rider I was and how relaxed I looked - giving it away that she was a complete beginner since I am still a horrible rider who still looks like the Hunchback of Notre Dame as I held the horn on the saddle in one hand and the ropes in the other.

Thinking about it though, I was doing really well by not even giving the horn a death grip ruining my baby soft hands - until...I wanted just a little more speed. Making the smallest noise and given my hairy friend just the slightest nudge to his body with my heels...my horse seemed to take off faster than a, "I have a small penis car." My heart seemed to break a few ribs as it tried to rip through my chest quickly transforming my soft grip on the horn immediately into my signature death grip.

Telling the horse "no" in english enough times to legitimately be considered by the medical community to have a stuttering problem, it didn't seem to work. What did work was the obvious. Since the horse didn't understand english, I had to revert to brut stregth with my 35 inch bicep and pull back on the reins to make him realize I didn't want to fly, but to stop.

After the huge shot of adrenaline my legs were like rubber the rest of the ride...including the downhill portion where I was leaning so far back as the horse was literally sliding down the step trail and at times dropping off ledges that seem to me, huge. It was one of those love-hate moments.

Once reaching the waterfalls, they ended up being spectacularly unique as it came pouring down through a hole in the rock. I went on this trip expecting only a decent horseback ride and happily got much much more. Having low expectations can sometimes make life so much more simple and happier. I wonder if this is something I should consider taking into consideration went I start dating again.

The Medellin StairMaster

May 17th, 2010: Why go to a gym to wait in line behind sweaty overweight women in tight spandex supporting a major camel toe to workout on the StairMaster when you can simply go on the Medellin StairMaster, have no lines, much more pleasant views and not even have to pay a membership fee?

Today I visited one of the low income to no income areas on the hillside of Medellin and even had 3 other white folk join my group. While walking up the hills of the barrio, I had to wonder if it was safer to travel in a group or alone. Yes, I don't blend in very well here...I am too tall and my clothes some how make me stand out since I don't have rhinestones pasted on my shirts and my nose is a bit too pointy...but, when you have 4 of us walking and talking in english, it is a sure give away that you don't belong.

While walking up the endless stairs weaving through the houses made of brick, metal, plastic and random wooden material we would hear random words of English being shot out at us from the houses or the streets by the verbal snipers saying such things as, "hello" or "how are you?". The poverty stricken houses were amazingly beautiful - as long as the big bad wolf didn't come to blow some houses down. Some individuals would even follow us wanting to say something but to scared to until they built up enough strength and leak a few words of english out. This is why my spanish is so bad...local people seem to want to practice speaking english...not spanish, but english. I have a feeling they don't see to many tourists up in the hills around their houses.

The only thing I lost today was a lot of calories as I struggled with the drastic elevation change of each step. While the others walked quickly ahead...I ran into a guy and spoke to him and his daughter that lived in one of these amazing houses. I briefly thought, perhaps he knows someone who would like to rent me a room made of plastic, wood or some other creative material for a few days. I am interested on what goes on at night...perhaps this would explain all the military that is situated on this hillside with their automatic weapons. When walking through...it seemed beautiful to me, why would there be a need for such a strong presence of force? Hmm. I would like to find out, but I must seriously start thinking about moving on.

A beer...and no donut hole!?

May 15th, 2010: When Police officers back at home take a break...they will usually enjoy some fresh donut holes and a fine cup of coffee. Very rarely you will see the uniformed officers who are armed, in public pouring out a beer bottle into a plastic cup in a store, handing the empty bottles to the store keeper, jumping into the police vehicle, starting it up and driving away as driver now enjoys the hops behind the wheel...without a donut hole in the other hand.

If this happened at home, it would have definitely be miraculously recorded by either the 4 year old with his or her first phone or pulled off of some security tapes as it would be quickly sold to some local news agency making this little observation of the officer not eating some sort of donut product with his beer turn into epic proportions.

Holy Sock!

May 12th, 2010: In the process of trying to see everything and everyone before leaving Medellin, it seems that I might have prematurely worn out my socks from all of the walking. I am not sure how the holes on the tops of the socks appeared but they miraculously appeared - HOLY SHIGHT!!!! - I mean holy sock!! I just noticed this...my left sock looks just like the Virgin Mary!! It is happened...she answered my prayers and visited me verifying it by means of my socks (quite a creative women that Mary is) and left an imprint of her face right on the top of it!

For anyone who is an active Ebay user, please contact me right away. I can see it right now, selling for thousands - any idiots out there looking to purchase a holy sock now before it goes to the highest bidder?

The other day I started to complete my "to visit" list and went to some gardens, observing some ducks getting molested by a mass of drunken teenagers at the pond. I also enjoyed my visit to an art museum named Perez Something and a cemetary also named Perez Something (everyone has Perez Something in there name so it seems). Some of the boxes here with bodies or ashes in them I suppose were so high up the wall, I am not sure how you can enjoy looking at your dead family or friend who is at such great heights in these cement capsules. To me, it is sort of like going to a high-rise building, picking out a boarded up window and saying...my grandmothers body is in there.

To finish up the day I did some grueling exercise and walked up the hillsides where all of the economically challenged live to add a bit of excitement to my life. Getting into sections that I felt I might be making an involuntary donation of my Ipod and camera...I decided to turn back. In the next day or so I am going to head back to the hillsides and attempt to lose a few inches in height to help blend in with the locals and attempt to get lost in the narrow passageways and streets. This might be a difficult task because it is hard to get lost when all you have to do it head downhill...but somehow I always seem to find a way.

My next visit to this area, my camera or anything worth taking will not be joining me. If someone wants my shoes that the soles are falling off, dirty underwear or even the shirt off my back...I will happily hand them over, folded. But if someone even thinks about taking my holy sock...there might be a problem...a big problem.

A Catastrophic Event

May 7th, 2010: Helping Genny relax a bit I decided to watching the 88 week old Samu...yep, 88 weeks (give or take a few days). Under my supervision he had an accident. An accident does not even effectively begin to describe this catastrophic event. Standing there I noticed an odor seeping out of his white Mickey mouse pajamas.

I assumed that he pooped his pants. Not a big deal I thought...he is okay squishing around in them for an hour or so until Genny woke up. Then I notice he was not supporting the typical bulky padded look around his lower disposal zones. Afraid to touch him with my hands to confirm this, I used my foot to give him a poke to his butt and then I discovered, that he was going commando. At that very moment I think I caused the leak to increase in severity as he now stood there with pee rushing almost unprotected out of the front of the pajamas and into his Mickey Mouse boots.

Thinking that is was a good time to wake Genny up...I decided not to and to watch Samu completely. So I tried to put him inside the laundry sink as he made a nice shape of a cat, unable to put him in the 3 foot deep tiled sink.

I must have been pure entertainment for the housekeeper who was watching me as she ironed clothes. In the back of my head I was thinking that if cleaning babies and there poopy pants is a task that she is required to do if told to do so. Not having time to go into telling her I needed help or asking her how much it would cost me to clean Samu up, I continued to tried to put Samu in the sink as he tried to touch me with his hands which where now covered in a fecal matter. My strength increased 10 fold as I held him straight out without the slightest shakes from the weight load.

Finally in the sink I was able to get him to play in the water a bit as it was now clumped on his behind, chest and feet. I hoped that he would play in the water for such an extended period it would just eventually break free. It was not going to happen. Taking a rag I dabbed him and then took a deep breath after putting a massive amount of cloth washing soap on my hands (didn't have regular bath soap handy at that moment) and squinted as I quickly went over his body breaking free the sticky substance. While doing this Samu tryed to grab his pants that rested next to the sink and there I saw the aftermath - I almost vomited at the sight and gagged for a second before I was able to block it out.

Once Samu was finished, I was going to leave the pants...but as I said, I wanted to help Genny and watch Samu completely - not just when the times are good. Again I began to gag as I shook of some off the poop and swished it down the drain. When finished, I was able to sit down to attempt to forget about what just happen as the smell of poop lingered in the air. It either absorbed in my skin or I was hit and didn't know it.

I don't know how parents do it. Perhaps it is easier when you start off doing this stuff when the kids are small along with the packages they so ungratefully deliver.

If I wanted some tongue, I would rather not pay for it

May 7th, 2010: As usual...Genny`s father, Mr. Perez and I typically go to lunch, eat at the restaurant and bring back some food for the inmates - meaning Genny and Samu. I don't typically say much while eating since Genny´s dad does not speak English but today throughout the entire meal I could not wipe the smile off my face as I would stare at his food. Hopefully he does not now think I am somewhat strange.

When ordering I try to make things really simple and if I don't understand what in on the menu, I will always go for chicken - I don't think it is possible to mess up chicken no matter how it is prepared. Looking at what Mr. Perez ordered, I couldn't stop staring. It was a huge tongue stretched across his plate. When he cut into it looked like how meat suppose to look, but on the outside,it is obvious that it was a huge tongue. Disgusting, I thought...happily consuming my chicken, briefly wondering if the tongue too tasted like chicken. Today was not a day for experimenting...figuring, if I wanted some tongue, I would rather not pay for it.

Living in the Now...

May 7th, 2010: I just used up about one branch from perhaps the last tree in a remote section of the Brazilian rain forest for this post. I thankfully will not lose any sleep over it but I must say that this post has been extremely difficult to compose. The past 2 weeks I have done absolutely nothing but did everything. How do I begin to explain this...I don't know.

Currently I am in the drug slinging border city Cucata that is more like city sized oven with its temperature averaging about 99 degrees Fahrenheit. I am here with my friend Genny and Samu visiting her father and many others in her family that is in total about 1,402,020,248 people...and this is just in Cucata! I am staying at their house which resembles the typical white collar federal prison back at home because of the Colombian standard that is the 104 locks to enter and leave the house with the heavily barred windows and roof in the open areas - keeping everything but perhaps an anorexic cat and rodents from entering the compound...and...keeping everyone in, if absolutely necessary or if so desired. Thinking about it, Venezuela is by far worse with bars on high rise buildings windows and balconies all the way to the 22 floor in case Spiderman decided to make a few extra dollars after hours.

At this place...I feel I discovered somethings I must have lost a long time ago or perhaps never truly experienced. One of them is that I discovered the joy of living in the now instead of the past or the future. I have always heard people say (high pitched voice) "you need to live in the now." Yes, that sounds really easy...but in the past I was only capable of being able to do it for a few minutes at a time and then having to re-remind myself to live in the now every annoying minute or so until the past or future would quickly infiltrate my mind.

I first did not want to take responsibility for my own lack of movement here in Cucata in addition to my lack of getting out of the house. I wanted to put the blame on the city I am in, then the weather and finally an horrid excuse that I brought nothing but some clothes and a book that I think would be better if used as toilet paper instead of study material. The book is so misappropriate named "How to learn Spanish in one week" - more like 3 years.

During my time here in Cucata, I have enjoyed what most people that work 5 days a week dread doing everyday once they get off of work such as: washing cars, clothes, floors and other household chores - that I have not done much of in well over a year. I have experienced something special which money can not buy and that was hanging out with a ton of wonderful people which includes Genny´s family, making me miss living around family and a life of some stability even more.

With this said...in a few weeks, I will be back on the trail and will be going south toward Popayan, Colombia to meet up with some friends for a few days, pick up a few of my cameras and my laptop, starting to make my way back through Ecuador (since I am now again allowed to re-enter Ecuador, maxing out my stay last year on a tourist visa) going to Peru.

In a perfect world, sometimes I would like things to go differently - "but"...I will of coarse be back someday...this is definitely a country I love.

Even the Virgin Mary loves Colombia...and perhaps Vegas too!

April 26th, 2010: Taking a 12 hour bus ride through some spectacular landscape, my friends and I finally arrived to the town of Ocana to attend a child´s 3 year old birthday party. I am saddened to announce that at this party I discovered that the walking, talking potty trained mouse known as M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E has also invaded this peaceful remote place.

While here in Ocana I was able to go to the same exact spot the Virgin Mary came to see while she too visited Colombia. This is actually my second VMS (Virgin Mary Sighting) location I have visited in Colombia. Why didn't Mrs. Mary ever decide to stop off at my house to pay a little visit? Better yet...land herself on a piece of toast which I could sell on EBay for a nice hefty sum. Needless to say...the Virgin Mary has seemed to made a quite a few visits, turning small towns instantly into tourist attractions. This is could be a good way to increase tourism in any city, no matter the size. I am surprised Las Vegas didn't think about this to increase tourism - but, I suppose as the slogan goes...what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.