Collectivas...Just part of the "Cultural Experiance"

If you have not been to Central America, you may be unfamiliar with "collectivas".  Well they are nine (9) passenger vans usually on their last legs.  Did I say nine passengers?  That may be what they were designed for, however, if you are going to make a profit carrying the populace between village and city, well.....more is definitely better!  The most that I have ever had was twenty-nine (29) in one van.  We were cheek to jowl, babies on laps, bags of veggies and fruit in laps and people hanging out the sliding door.
Cynthia and I have been regulars on the collectiva to Morales.  Cynthia has braces and must go for routine adjustments we find ourselves grabbing the various collectivas.  We are learning which drivers are just a little too crazy for us. We know that the weekends are just plain suicide.
I will admit that I miss read her appointment slip so last Saturday just past noon we found ourselves on our way to Morales.  Our driver started out just fine.  Then just as we hit the curves he really put the petal to the metal and we were flying around blind curves, passing in no passing zones, just the normal driving habits of your friendly colectiva driver.  So when we saw him yesterday with his helper and money collector holloring, "Morales,  Morales, Puerto Barrios"  we got in.  We needed to get there.

As we are going over the bridge that spans our beautiful river we stop and pick up a clown.  This guy is in full costume and has 7 soda cans all attached to each other in a line.  As we pull away he hands the driver a picture of himself on the bridge with the river in the background.  The driver is looking at the picture and commenting all the while we are weaving across the center line on a two lane bridge.

We are heading down the road and the clown starts to sing and accompany himself with the cans.  He holds them horizontally and there must be seeds inside as it sounds like a rain stick.  So he sings his song of going to the beach and seeing the beautiful girl in the white top and pants, who he calls to and declares his love.  She of course ignores him and he is sick at heart with love for her. ( I am telling you about this song...because it was all in Spanish and I understood 90% of it!)

After dropping off 2 people and picking up 4 more in the village of Buenas Aires I notice that the helper is making arm motions to a collectiva behind us.  The other collectiva pulls around us and then stops to drop off his passengers.  We pull around him and then all of a sudden he as pushed us into the on coming traffic lane!  We are half on the shoulder and he has us blocked in.  Yes, we are in a blind curve!  The other driver comes over and yanks open the door and grabs our driver.  There is yelling and accusations flying.  Cynthia and I are trying not to pay too much attention and are hoping that we won't be hit by on coming traffic.  Fortunately,  the other driver leaves and we continue on our way.

We will never know what it was all about.  The ride home was boring...Can't wait till next month.

SPAM, SPAM, SPAM.......

SPAM, SPAM, SPAM,SPAM......

Monty Python has the Broadway production of Spamalot.  The rest of us have SPAM!

 Either you are a lover of Spam or not.  We are not talking electronic spam here.  We are talking canned meat!
I am not sure when or where I had my first taste of spam, but I know that I like it.
Michael and Cynthia like it too.  That makes it easy for me.  Especially for breakfast.  Now there are some people and they know who they are, that....gasp...do NOT like SPAM.  So of course Murphy's Law is in place.
They sent a cruising friend with a wish list for shopping in Guatemala City.  Being Australian, George picked up canned meat as requested...Well not really.  He came back with two (2) cases of SPAM!  To their credit they tried to like it and then promptly worked out a work trade with Dragonheart.  Spam for sewing.
SPAM is versatile, fried, diced in eggs with pancakes, as a sandwhich, etc.  The list is endless.  Check of the SPAM website for recipies.
 
Roger and Carole like spam also and as Roger is back in England, Carole is at loose ends for breakfast.  Seems that Roger cooks breakfast for her and Sunday breakfast is special.  So we invited her over for breakfast.  Yes, waffles and fried SPAM!
Just a little history about SPAM!

Hormel developed America's first canned ham (''Hormel Flavor-Sealed Ham'') in 1926, and eleven years later developed the first canned meat product that did not require refrigeration. It was a ''distinctive chopped pork shoulder and ham mixture'' developed by Jay C. Hormel, son of Hormel founder George A. Hormel, and marketed as ''Hormel Spiced Ham'' - not a terribly inspiring name for an innovative product fated to save lives, win wars, and balance diets of people world wide.
Hormel Spiced Ham got off to a slightly rocky start. Other meatpackers began to introduce their own canned luncheon meats, and Hormel lost its controlling share of the market. Soon, however, they came up with a cunning plan to rectify this situation - they would give Hormel's luncheon meat a truly catchy name. Toward this end, they offered $100 for a suitable appellation. The winning name was, of course, ''SPAM'', and a legend was born.
SPAM was launched with much high-profile advertising in mid-1937. It was called ''the Miracle Meat'', and promoted as an anytime meat. In 1940, SPAM was the subject of quite possibly the first singing commercial. The jingle was to the tune of the chorus of ''My Bonny Lies Over The Ocean'', and the lyrics were ''SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM/ Hormel's new miracle meat in a can/ Tastes fine, saves time./ If you want something grand,/ Ask for SPAM!''. Hormel also sponsored George Burns' and Gracie Allen's network radio show, which included ''Spammy the Pig''. During World War II, sales boomed. Not only was SPAM great for the military, as it required no refrigeration, it wasn't rationed as beef was, so it became a prime staple in American meals. SPAM supported the war effort more directly, too. Nikita Kruschev credits SPAM with the survival of the Russian Army during WWII. During the late 1940s and early 1950s, the Hormel Girls performing troupe advertised SPAM as they performed throughout the country, distributed SPAM door-to-door, and even had a national weekly radio show. Ads proclaimed, ''Cold or hot, SPAM hits the spot!''
In 1960, SPAM began to be sold in 7 oz cans alonside the original 12 oz ones. SPAM began to spawn variations in 1971, when smoke-flavored SPAM was introduced. Next came less salt/sodium SPAM, in 1986, and with it the honour of being considered ''state of the art in its industry'' by the Minnesota Association of Commerce and Industry." In the early 1990s, SPAM Breakfast Strips were introduced, as was SPAM lite.
What now awaits us on the SPAM front? Only time (and possibly Hormel) will tell.

Try SPAM!   You just may like it.

Now That's a Gadget I Can Use!

I know that I seem obsessed with our last trip to the States.  So please bear with me.  One of the things that makes your heart beat faster is when you are checking into the airlines and you put that first bag on their scale.
You are right...it is over.  How can that be you ask?  I know that we weigh and re-weigh ever bag at least 4 times.  How do we do this?  With the bathroom scale.  It really is quite funny to watch.  Someone usually me lifts the bag, balances it on the scale, and then lifts so that the other person can read the weight.  We never seem to get the same reading.  You can also stand on the scale with the bag in your hand and then subtract your weight from the total.  I never opt for this version as I hate math!

Well we have ordered a hand held digital scale to weigh our bags on our next trip.  There are several out there.  

Supposedly, you just wrap the strap around the handle of your bag, lift and it digitally gives you a read-out.
Sure hope it works as well as it is advertised.  I hate transferring items at the airline counter.

Help us name our Holes???

This is posted on YouTube and Facebook.  I just can't imagine that they didn't realize what the inuendo would be....A hole or B hole????

I laughed.  May-be you will too.

Packaging

On our recent trip to the States we bought a significant amount of stuff.  Stuff for us, stuff for friends and fellow cruisers.  So much stuff was delivered to my sister's home that she quit sending me emails to alert me of arrivals.
One of the first things people tell you is, "break it down".  Couldn't have done it if we hadn't "broke it down".  We filled half of a small dumpster with packaging.  It took me two days to break down the packaging.  Once you get the item out of the packaging then I put it in Zip-Locks and label who it belongs to.

Here is an example of over packaging.
The Original box.

The box inside the box.

 The actual item which is only 3"X3".

Multiply that by a water pump, depth finder, 2 mice for computers, multiple external hard drives...you get the idea.  And that doesn't even take into account the bubblewrap, the styrafoam peanuts, the paper, and those new little airbag things.

No wonder our landfills are full to overflowing and the price of every item is affected by all the PACKAGING!

Red Shirt Friday

This was sent to me by a friend and I feel I need to pass it on.  I may not support the War, but I most certainly do SUPPORT OUR TROOPS!

If you want to see and may-be understand what happens when a Solider/Marine is brought home I highly recommend the movie, "Taking Chance".  It is a true story and brings home the message of what it means to be an escort for a fallen Warrior.

Because of every Warrior that has been willing to lay down his/her life or has laid down his/her life for me and mine...I am grateful.  I am proud to have come from a military family.  I am proud that I am a disabled Vet.  I am proud to be married to a retired warrior.

Red  Shirt

                 If  the red shirt thing is new to you, read below  how it went for a man...

                 Last  week, while traveling to  Chicago on business, I noticed a Marine sergeant traveling with a  folded flag, but did not put two and two  together..

                 After we boarded our flight, I  turned to the sergeant, who'd been invited to  sit in First Class (across from me), and  inquired if he was heading home.

                 No, he  responded.
                 Heading out I asked?

                 No.  I'm escorting a soldier home.

                 Going to  pick him up?

                 No. He is with me right now.  He was killed in  Iraq , I'm taking him home to  his family.

                 The realization of what he  had been asked to do hit me like a punch to the  gut. It was an honor for him. He told me that, although he didn't know the soldier, he had  delivered the news of his passing to the  soldier's family and felt as if he knew them  after many conversations in so few days.

                 I turned back to him, extended my hand,  and said, Thank you Thank you for doing what  you do so my family and I can do what we do.

                 Upon landing in  Chicago the pilot  stopped short of the gate and made the following  announcement over the intercom.

                 "Ladies  and gentlemen, I would like to note that we have had the honor of having Sergeant Steeley of the  United States Marine Corps join us on this  flight He is escorting a fallen comrade back  home to his family. I ask that you please remain  in your seats when we open the forward door to  allow Sergeant Steeley to deplane and receive  his fellow soldier. We will then turn off the  seat belt sign."

                 Without a sound, all  went as requested. I noticed the sergeant  saluting the casket as it was brought off the  plane, and his action made me realize that I am  proud to be an American.

                 So here's a  public Thank You to our military Men and Women  for what you do so we can live the way we  do.

                 Red Fridays.

                 Very soon, you  will see a great many people wearing Red every  Friday. The reason? Americans who support our  troops used to be called the "silent majority."  We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for God, country and home in record  breaking numbers. We are not organized,  boisterous or overbearing.

                 Many  Americans, like you, me and all our friends,  simply want to recognize that the vast majority  of America supports our troops. Our idea of  showing solidarity and support for our troops  with dignity and respect starts this Friday --  and continues each and every Friday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening  message that ... Every red-blooded American who  supports our men and women a far, will wear something red.

                 By word of mouth, press,  TV -- let's make the  United States on every  Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming  football game in the bleachers. If every one of  us who loves this country will share this with  acquaintances, coworkers, friends, and family,  it will not be long before the  USA is covered in  RED and it will let our troops know the once "silent" majority is on their side more than  ever, certainly more than the media lets  on.

                 The first thing a soldier says when  asked "What can we do to make things better for  you?" is. "We need your support and your prayers." Let's get the word out and lead with  class and dignity, by example, and wear  something red every Friday.

                Now go and get out your RED SHIRTS!

And There Was Customs and Duty...

We arrived in Guatemala City after being awake for almost 24 hours.  We were tired!  As we were waiting for our baggage I noticed X-ray machines near the Customs Area.  Not a good sign.  Oh, well we finally got our bags, I think that they were the last ones off the plane.  No worries we are spending a couple of days in the City.

Now we notice that everyone is having their bags opened and searched  and some are asked to move over and go to see the officials behind glass.  I really got nervous when I saw that a fellow cruiser was sitting with his bags in front of the Customs Office.  This definitely is not good.

So here go the bags into the X-ray machine and now they are being opened and stuff is being removed and three people besides Michael are asking me questions.  Three are asking in Spanish.  Holy Crap Batman, we are in it now.  They are asking for receipts.  Receipts for what you ask?  Well,  there is the new 20" IMac computer, the depth finder, the new SSB Radio, the electric pump, the Wii and the Wii Fit Board, the wind instrument and varies other small electrical items.  You get the picture...we were burros for other cruisers and now we got to pay.
They want to know how much it all costs.  What is the right answer?  We made a stab at it and were told that we now would need an agent.  I couldn't find all the receipts and now we have our own customs person, Gina, who took over and took care of us.  Gina tells me to calm down, not a problem!  She takes what receipts I can find and goes over and talks to someone behind the GLASS.  She comes back.  We will not need an agent, but we will need NIT's.  NIT's are numbers in Guatemala so that you can pay your taxes and duty and customs.  Okay we can do that.  Only one more small problem, Cynthia is 14 and she will need a NIT.  Gina is trying very hard to keep me calm and move us along.   "Do you know anyone that has a NIT in Guatemala?"  "If you do we can use their number for some of the stuff and off you go."

I call Marco at the Marina and once again he helps us.  He gives his NIT and Mirna's NIT.  Paperwork is being done in triplicate and stamps are flying.  Now all we have to do is PAY!  Lucky us, we brought Quetzales with us and we still have some dollars.  After we pay all our customs and duty and for the NITs we have 20 Quetzales left.  That is about $2.50 US.  Thankfully we have a free airport shuttle.  We can't afford a cab.

We hit the ATM and get more money.  We are at the Biltmore, taking showers, eating pizza and drinking beer.  We are exhausted or "Estamos Fritos" as they say in Spanish.
The moral of this little tale is...never carry more that you can pay for and only be a burro for yourself.  Like I told my Dad, "Next time it is bathing suits and underwear!"