Coding for fun and pleasure

Brian wrote on 12/13/2009 at 22:21 from (18.55, -99.6)

Just because I haven't been writing to you doesn't mean I haven't been writing at all. In fact, we've both been very busy on this little jaunt of ours. Marijana's been learning at her same, insatiable rate, and I've taken up programming for a few open source projects I've either dropped or had on the drawing board for a long while, for fun and to keep the ol' brain sharp.

One little result of my work is Hum.

Now, for most of you, this is an utterly useless tool, but I've been having fun working on it, and it's been the thing that's kept me from communing more closely with all of you sweet people. So in the spirit of accountability, here you go. It's bug-filled and incomplete, but Marijana and I use Hum exclusively for listening to music, now.

There's more that I've been grinding away on (indeed, we've both compiled tons of ideas, lists, and code in the past few months), but nothing that currently has a pretty face or is in a very usable state.

Enjoy!

Taxco de Alarcón

Brian wrote on 12/13/2009 at 21:13 from (18.55, -99.6)

Taxco is a vertical city, a sheer and soaring jumble of white buildings and red tile roofs bound together by a matrix of narrow, twisting cobblestone streets so steep they often give up being roads altogether and decide to become stairs instead. It is beautiful and hive-like, humming and bleating and bustling with a relaxed but intent rhythm, unconcerned as it clings precipitously to a plunging arc of rock. The city stands as an open challenge to the gods to shake the mountain down, a defiant community of stone surfers, riding the face of a rocky wave.

We saw it and, even in the darkness, we knew we were in love.

Morelia (lit. "Place of Morelos")

Brian wrote on 10/13/2009 at 21:52 from (19.85, -101.033333)

We dedicated the entire next day to discovering more about Morelia's namesake, José María Morelos y Pavón. Morelos was the Mexican Revolution's equivalent of Nathan Hale, George Washington, and Frederick Douglas, all rolled into one. An inspirational figure, he embodied the complex cultural and racial threads that weave Mexico's great tapestry. Born in Morelia (then called Valladolid, and the seat of a number of prominent families whose power derived from the Spanish crown) to a poor, mestizo family, Morelos was keenly aware that there were classes in society, and that he did not occupy the highest of them.

Through his formative years, he worked in a number of manual labor jobs, traveling throughout Mexico to find work. All the while, he saved his money and studied Latin and Spanish, intent on becoming a priest. He enrolled in the seminary at Vallodolid's Colegio de San Nicolás and studied under Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, who would eventually launch the Mexican independence movement.

As a result of his friendship with Hidalgo, he became involved in the independence movement early, distinguising himself and rising quickly to the rank of generalisimo after Hidalgo's capture and execution. Under Morelos' command, the revolutionary army made a series of successful and increasingly daring assaults on Spanish forces, decimating the imperialists and taking control of central Mexico. Morelos quickly became known for his lightening raids, brilliant strategy, and a staunch refusal to surrender, even when surrounded and besieged.

Revolution central

Brian wrote on 10/12/2009 at 21:53 from (19.85, -101.033333)

The next day, we set out in search of new accommodations. Hotel Señorial had served its purpose as a place to crash for the night, but we figured that, for marginally more money, we could find a nicer place that was closer to the sights. Max had a place picked out, so we lugged our packs down several blocks, past the film festival and the Plaza de las Rosas, to the hotel that would serve as our home for the next week: Hotel Colonial.

The hotel was a lovely, restored colonial mansion, situated around an atrium at its center, which served as an open lobby. The staff was pleasant and the rooms, though a bit pricier than the previous night's (~USD$60 per night), were still very reasonable, especially when split three ways. We enjoyed a room overlooking the lobby, with an excellent bathroom (and shower!) and clean, comfortable beds. Perhaps best of all, though, was that the cathedral and the rest of the plaza was only a short walk away.

Exchanging histomenes for history

Brian wrote on 10/11/2009 at 23:19 from (19.85, -101.033333)

Preparations for our San Blas departure began early. When I settled the bill with Pompi, he gave us a steep discount on our stay and wished us luck. We, in turn, left a tip and thanked him profusely for patiently teaching us (me) the basics of surfing. Despite the length of our stay and the degree to which we had settled in, we were showered, dressed, fully packed, and ready to leave within an hour of waking up.

It's a strange feeling being able to so readily abandon a place that had become a sort of home for us, but it's also incredibly liberating to have that degree of mobility. In spite of the various insect-related tribulations we had encountered in San Blas, it was still the first place we stood up on a wave, where we met some great friends, home to some great food, the staging point into our La Tobara adventure, and just an all around nice little town filled with nice people. All the same, we celebrated our new record and our escape from the jejenes with grins and kisses, then set out on foot for town, happy to be charting a course for new adventures.

Fútbol, cerveza, y wifi

Brian wrote on 10/10/2009 at 23:56 from (21.527881, -105.282218)

Our last full day in San Blas was designated as internet catch-up time. We had agreed to write to friends and family, research the next hop (our plans were, surprisingly, still quite murky), and watch some soccer, if possible. We struck out late, as the sun rose high over another stifling day in San Blas. After a small lunch at La Parrillada (apparently, that's the name of Beba's place), Marijana and I headed over to Cafe Wala Wala (the restaurant with free wifi that we had discovered earlier) and indulged in some internet time and sodas.

La Tobara and lots of crocodiles

Brian wrote on 10/09/2009 at 23:51 from (21.527881, -105.282218)

The next day we all agreed to meet beside our palapa around 8am and head into town together to tour La Tobara (or La Tovara, or La Tobarra, depending on which sign you were reading, which locals you talked to, and which guide book you owned). Once I was done procrastinating and fumbling for cash, we took off into town again, a slow, gangly, glaringly white bicycle gang. We chatted in the morning calm, weaving our way through the muddy streets.

Once in San Blas, we all stopped to grab some snacks and run a few little errands, then headed toward the outskirts of town, where we had agreed to meet our guide, Victor. He hailed us as we approached and directed us down the street to his house, where we locked up our bikes. He waded out to his boat, jumped in, motored it toward the dock, steadied it as we all hopped in, then backed us out into the center of the slow-moving river.

Surfing and sitting

Brian wrote on 10/08/2009 at 23:18 from (21.527881, -105.282218)

The following day was slated for more recovery. My stomach had settled down, but I was still tired and cranky from the past several days. The sky was overcast and a storm threatened to roll in during the day, so I opted to sit and watch as Marijana surfed. As she played in the waves, I chatted with the occupants of the beachfront palapa, a Swedish couple named Christian and Malin and an Italian named Massimiliano (Max, for short). We had briefly introduced ourselves the previous day (Malin was the young lady who had passed by just after the spider assault and Christian recognized Marijana as "the screaming girl") but I wanted to get to know them a little better.

As it turned out, Marijana and I were not the only ones supporting the local mosquito population. In fact, Christian was quick to point out that we could consider ourselves lucky. They had to deal with the additional annoyance of sand fleas, which, for their small size, carried a nasty and painful bite. We commisserated for awhile, swapping bug bite stories, trading hydrocortisone, and theorizing as to the effectiveness of the mosquito coils that purport to keep the critters at bay.

San Blas: Spanish for 'place of many biting things'

Brian wrote on 10/07/2009 at 19:25 from (21.527881, -105.282218)

The mosquito attack demanded a full day of recovery, as my stomach refused to settle down and my bites continued to swell. Marijana spent a good portion of the time tending to my various needs and wants, so she was effectively out of commission as well. It wasn't until our third day in San Blas that we left our cabaña and actually cast more than a cursory glance at our surroundings.

Flying death

Brian wrote on 10/06/2009 at 20:13 from (21.527881, -105.282218)

We woke up this morning to a horrific sight. Blood streaked the sheets and all around us spread the unearthly vision of hundreds of twitching bodies. The night had borne witness to a pitched and violent battle, one without winners, and the sun rose slowly over a singular scene of carnage.