A caution: If you fall into the trap of trying to define yourself by traveling, you will not feel that special while traveling. It is the incorrect state of mind.

I am certainly am in the land of migrating existentialists. Many common themes. Recently I have Been hanging with an ex Microsoft employee who couldn't take IT (as in the daily grind) anymore and decided to travel south. neither of us can really define what the whole point is just yet, we can only agree that "now" is better than "then", and tomorrow looks pretty good too.

My day to day in PE is more or less, get up, eat, surf, eat , go to Spanish class, eat, go to class, eat, surf, eat, go out somewhere, maybe eat go to bed.

There are also 3-4 BM's in there in case you were wondering. I eat a lot of raisin bran to keep everything tight.

I don't have much in the way of coherent stories right now, so I will just mix in some bits and pieces of stuff which has come to pass.

1. The Israelis were beyond amused by the fact that the only reason i even knew gerod was because our wives were friends first, then they both left us at the same time and now that we are both divorced we decided to wander through mexico.
It's like a movie they said, like the next big American comedy. They went on to say that the movie would need to have some kind of homosexual encounter between the main characters as well, because it would be sooooo funny.

I happen to disagree with the last part, but it will depend on how much the movie rights go for...

It will be purely fiction.

2. A side note on planning my Mexico rendezvous with gerod:
Want to go to Mexico?
Let me check...
Yea
Ok
I land in cabo on Tuesday the 8th at 230
See you there.

Literally that many words over the coarse of 3 weeks. We haven't spoken since, but I believe the relationship remains stable in both condition and heterosexual status.

3. Two barrels today in zicatela. Countless beatings, one broken board, not mine.

4. The Frenchmen and the windsurfer, Pierre and shahar (pronounced sort of like Shaka but from the furthest depths of your throat) have continued to be incredibly entertaining.

Side note: The essence of "Pierre" is something like this. "Pee errrr you f*** errrrrr." When I think of him, there is a French voice in my head saying the above line... Hopefully this will give you some idea of his type.

P & S delight in one another's misfortune and spend most of the day searching for displeasing things to do to one another, or lightly disagreeing. They are best friends too.

5. P&S
Shaka: how hot is the hot sauce
Pierre: not very
Shaka loads up a fatal dose of realllly hot sauce, then proceeds to sweat profusely, remove his shirt, and drink some other girls beer, all the while trying to act casual. Pierre barely contains himself.

6. Apparently in Olympic windsurfing all of equipment is the same for all of the athletes regardless of size or conditions. The heavier surfers are better in heavier wind, but get killed in light winds, therefore each team has to select an athlete they feel will best cover their bases for the games. Shaka, for Israel was known to be one of the lightest riders crazy enough to go full speed in a heavy wind... Don't know the name of the sail but there is basically a flap used by lighter, More novice surfers which will bleed off speed, and which Shaka does not use at all.
Apparently he is somewhat of a bumblebee flight mystery, as he really should not be heavy enough to keep the sail upright in the heaviest winds, he is on the absolute brink of collapse at all times.

Also when he is doing just about anything, surfing, dancing, windsufing (I suspect) he does it at top speed while making a sort of high pitched eeeeeeeeeee weeeeeeee cry. If the surfing photos had sound, that is all they would sound like because Shaka took the photos as the waves came in and pummeled him.

To spite his exuberance he is not immune to misfortune in the least. In the last week he has broken 4 boards, two of them not his own, one of them twice, gashed his foot on the fins, and lost my flippers to the sea. The flippers were both removed from his feet by a single wave, which beat him all the way to the shore while he was taking photos.

His recount of most things sounds like this (sort of a frenchy accent)

I take off
Tons of speed
Eeeeeeee
And then
Bum bum bum
Eeeee
An I was like woooowwww

7. My current plan is to kill another week in PE...then head over to Oaxaca for a different language school, a home stay, and the worlds best cemetery party on my birthday.(dia de Los muertos)

8. Side note: I started Spanish school in PE. Genius idea, really enjoying it.
My group lesson has one other girl in it, she is currently in medical residency in Canada. Ella Es Doctora de gynecolgica.
One of Life's little jokes I suppose.

We have become friends, although I have come to realize that this familiar and powerful breed, can be very opinionated, needs lots of exercise, can be self destructive, and writes very quickly. Altogether, not great for family's, or households with other occupants. Those seeking companionship best go with a Labrador.

9. P&S
Last night at the bar, I asked Pierre where Shaka was, his response started out calm but then became an uncontrollable belly laugh.

"He iz et home....laughter begins....sssshhhhhiiiittttinnnnggg by himselfppppffff bahahhhaha."

There isn't really a punch line to that... Except to note that shaka literally said hold my drink I have to make a s***, and ran out of the bar. Ran.

10. Today Shaka broke the board which he got repaired yesterday, in a different spot, actually right along the line of the other repair.... Stress riser for the engineers, he took it back to the shop (plywood/tarp/banner/rubble pile lean-to) that originally repaired it to complain. The man said he didn't have the money right now and to come back at 4 or 5. When Shaka returned at 5 the man laughed, told him to f*** off and threw a half eaten green orange (fruit) at him. Shaka came back to the house with his head hung a la Charlie Brown.

Pierre could barely tell me the story.

Eeeef only theeeessss I could hev seen, he go like dis (middle finger) and throwing the green leeeemon. Get dee f*** out of heeer Man.

11. While traveling through Baja, there was one night which just wouldn't pull together. After visiting several s***hole hotels which cost way too much and wouldnt bargain, and after going to two rv parks which turned out to abandoned but did have the classic "sketchy dude in empty graffitied concrete building" type character hanging about,I was finally forced to camp at el Cerritos, which i believed would at least be populated. El Cerritos is kind of like the walmart of beaches in baja. tons of wallmartians, all products are just ok, it is sort of dirty everywhere, and the parking lot (where you camp) is immense. As it turns out, the parking lot is also completely deserted around dusk which is when I pulled up.

Well s***, camping alone I baja. Not ideal.

Parked in the corner and tried to sleep. Had difficulty though;
It was beyond hot in the back of the truck which shielded the ever so slight breeze perfectly, there was a diesel generator redlining somewhere in the dark, probably keeping the hotel ACs cranking for those a******s who were at present significantly more fortunate than i, and the bugs...as big as gulls.

While the Mosquitos feasted, I managed to doze off lightly, only to become aware of the presence of people around the truck at about 2 am. Then the Mexican electronica music started to play. I decided I wouldn't be giving up anything strategically by turning on my light, so I began to read and also ponder exactly what type of situation I was in...amateur bandits just getting up the nerve to strike? Probably not...drunk opportunists who were just trolling the streets for something to entertain themselves with? Possibly. Kids partying? Yea hopefully... Then there was a knock on the window. Two Mexican marines. Hola adonde viene? Etc etc. basically they took all of my information down, name, lic plate, origin, purpose, vehicle year.... Then they told me they were in charge of security for the whole coast and that they keep track of campers and visitors etc. which seems good. It's probably much easier to sort out who camping and to catch people for registration at 2 am then it is in the busy day too. They then left and continued there techno party for another hour or so , knocking one more time to see if I had any cigarettes.

The life guards woke me up around 7 am, too see if I had any of that good weed from the states. Sometimes the Mexican weed just doesn't have the power needed to get you through a day of pulling gringo kids out of the sea.

On the military: they in contrast to the salvavidas were pleased I didn't have any drugs. So far I have found the military to be very straightforward, no hassles no bs, just inspections and some questions... there timing isnt always the best but its a minor flaw.... One guy wanted a soccer ball, or I think just anything that they could entertain themselves with.. A nerf football wouldn't be a bad thing to carry around as a gift. It would sure go a long way, although as I said, it hasn't been necessary with the military.

P&S
I overheard the following outside,
For unknown cause and in a verrry thick French accent:
"Shaka.....

Yew ken gew.....

f*** yearself."

To my dismay the P&S duo have traveled north, thanks for the memories, and I'll see you guys in Rio 2016.

That's ll I have now, although some friends just returned from the south with a goat, which is now staying in the hotel with us. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Good luck everything forever,
Joe