The Parochia on the main square.

The year before that, on another visit, I witnessed an amazing and intimate performance by a band called The San Miguel 5, led up by the band’s founder and part-time SMA resident Doc Severinsen. Yes, that Doc Severinsen, still going strong at 84. The house, a local restaurant, was sold out. What both Calderón and Severinsen know is that SMA is a very cool and tranquil place.

Built by the Spanish about 1541 as a silver transport way station, its colonial character has been maintained by strict preservation laws in force since the late 1920s. More recently SMA was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site. It is well worth a visit, even if you are not the president or even famous.

The best way to get to SMA is from the peaceful León airport, which has only 6 gates. Continental flies regularly from Houston. Simply reserve a shuttle ride from the León airport to SMA with BajioGo Shuttle. The shuttle ride takes about an hour and passes through Guanajuato, the capital (of the state of the same name) which, by the way, is also quite a charming town and well worth a visit on its own merits.

For accommodations SMA has a wealth of options. For example, you can rent a mansion by the week that sleeps 12 or more from Casas Elegantes, chose from a variety of B&Bs, or perhaps stay at the elegant Casa Sierra Nevada (be sure to have a Don Julio Reposado tequila in their bar).

Once in SMA there are endless things to do. Wonderful restaurants abound. At random I can recall good times at El Pegaso, Berlin, Café Etc., Olé Olé, Hecho en México, Buganvilla, Casablanca, and The Restaurant (often cited as the best). Get out and explore. Take in the music and cocktails at La Malinche. See if Doc is in town. Go on the Sunday morning House and Garden Tour sponsored by the Biblioteca (Library). Stroll the arts and crafts shops at the Fabrica Aurora. Sign up for a Spanish language class at any number of schools (Academia Hispano Americano, Habla Ispana, Warren Hardy, and others). Take an art or photography class at the Instituto Allende. Visit the nearby “ghost town” and artist enclave Pozos. And be sure to visit the Charco del Ingenio, a vast nature reserve and favorite with bird watchers.

Finally, before planning your trip, take a look at the SMA weather patterns. SMA is at about 6,000’ and tends to have pretty mild weather—although I was there once in January when we were dusted with an inch of snow for the first time in 20 years. The rainy season is the summer, with usually afternoon downpours.

P.S. The plumbing is 500 years old for crying out loud (well, much of it has been updated). Everyone drinks bottled water, including the Mexicans. If you want to add a layer of safety and peace of mind consider asking your doctor to prescribe Xyfaxan, an antibiotic that is not absorbed, acts locally in the GI tract, and prevents a good 70% of potential cases of “tourista”.

The straight and narrow

I made a reservation (using Hostelworld.com) for 6 nights (April 20-26, 2011) at the Damrak Inn Hotel, Amsterdam, Netherlands, basically because I got tired of looking for someplace cheaper—all of the Stayokay hostels associated with the YHA (http://www.hihostels.com/), of which I am a member, were booked up 6 weeks before my visit (and perhaps longer).

As an adult I find the YHA hostels mostly adequate, especially for the price, as long as one never forgets to bring along some nice solid-silicone ear plugs (not the less efficient foam ones). You will need them, as there are always snorers and other kinds of noise, especially in the dorms where I, as a single male, stay. In fact I have been told that I snore. One morning I actually found several one penny copper coins in my bed, mostly around my pillow, with several more on the floor at the foot of my bed. I assume someone was livid enough to undertake to disturb me into stopping. I hope throwing money at me worked. Take ear plugs. You might also be wise to bring blindfolds, as some people think it is OK to turn on the dorm room lights at midnight (not me). But I digress–back to the Damrak Inn.

The Damrak Inn has a youth hostel feel about it in terms of space—my single room (#46) was not six feet wide—I could not lie flat with my feet against one wall and my head against the other—and about 15 feet long, with attached bath. The window opened onto a small alley so the view was of another building. There was no place to hang clothes—only a chest of drawers. There was a safe in the room, as well as a folding chair (but no desk) and a small night table at the foot of the bed. The bathroom was of nice quality and everything worked well, although there were no hooks or shelves on which one could hang or stack ones things. At least the toilet had a solid lid (something often lacking at YHA hostels) so there was that surface to use—that and the floor.

Reaching the room was another matter! It was on the top (4th) floor and there is no elevator/lift so one must ascend a set of steep, narrow, windy stairs. Good luck. Hire a Sherpa. Plus, during my visit, the floor of the building at street level (not part of the hotel as far as I know) was being remodeled and the construction crew began using a jack-hammer every morning at 7:30 AM. I did not need an alarm clock. I am just happy that the building remained standing, given the intensity of the transmitted vibrations. At night there was constant street (Damrak) and partier noise, so once again the ear plugs were essential items! Finally, this hotel has essentially no lobby so you are either in your room, climbing the stairs, or on the street. At least the YHA hostels have common rooms, quiet rooms, often gardens, etc.

Given these drawbacks one would think the price close to that of a hostel, but no…it was about four times as much–925.00 Euros (154.00 per night), which included the 5% city tax and A 4% “SERVICE CHARGE” added “to process your credit card”! Fortunately the WiFi was free and the walk to the train station manageable.

Street level at the Damrak Inn Hotel

Barcelona street scene

Teachers and Students
My experience at any given school was always most strongly flavored by the individuals who happened to be in the classroom at the time. As for teachers, I had some excellent ones and some not so good ones but none who made me actually transfer to another class (although I thought about it a couple of times). My standout teachers were the two professors, both women from Spain, who taught me in Seattle, a young woman in Oaxaca, and a male professor in Salamanca. What distinguished their performance was their obvious enthusiasm for what they were doing, their ability to manage a class (and people) well, their sense of pacing, and their deep grasp of the language and how to teach it. Others teachers were not so good. I recall one man in Granada who would come to class every day, hunch over, sigh a lot, and say “Well, hmmm, what should we do today?”, seemingly expecting the students to tell him what to do. He never seemed to have any direction or drive. Another was a woman in Salamanca who was rather aggressively demoralizing—her favorite lines were things like “That’s stuff from a much lower level course—you should know that by now for Christ’s sake!”, said in a tone that was not supportive. She actually pulled this on a new student on their first day of class—they did not return for more. Gruff and abrasive would be good words to describe her. The great majority of the teachers I had were somewhere in the middle—competent, friendly enough, putting in their time at work.

Similarly the student mix had a strong influence. I made a few good friends with whom I still play. I also recall one student, a mid-60’s super-entitled woman from Santa Barbara who did not know how to stop talking, would cut others off to talk, and whose presence led to my premature withdrawal from a conversation class in Oaxaca. It is my opinion that speech monopolizing is a form of psychopathology at this level of intensity—perhaps a form of OCD? This was an experience quite to be distinguished from that of having one or a few students in class who are far advanced of everyone else—which was my experience last week here in Barcelona (I was not one of the advanced ones). However note that this Barcelona class was at level C2, which is the top level, so there was nowhere else these folks could have gone unless DQ had undertaken to split the class. Placing students into an appropriate level is a black art—always feel free to request a transfer to a different one if you feel out of place.

The student mix itself tends to be strongly influenced by season and location. In most schools summers and holidays will find a large number of younger students, usually college-aged. These students tend to run in packs, stay out late, miss class to sleep the next day, and, sadly, learn faster and speak better than I ever will. Most are friendly and fun in class. During the school year the language schools tend to have smaller classes with adult students. In Mexico, although I did meet a number of students from other countries (especially at DQ Guanajuato), most were from the USA and Canada as you would expect. In Spain, where I attended for 3 months this summer, the great majority were from Europe and Asia. The European kids seemed more willing to invite older students to hang out than their American counterparts would have—a cultural difference I have noted at other times as well.

My advice: be patient and give a class a few days. You will know when and if you are in a situation you are not willing to tolerate. Discuss your options with the teacher and/or directors. Bear in mind that the class mix, especially during the summer sessions, tends to change weekly—this alone may solve your problem. Also, become familiar with a school’s business policies prior to enrollment—many schools, especially the larger capitalistic structures like DQ, are rather inflexible when it comes to such odious ideas as location changes or, god forbid, refunds. ICO, to their credit, did refund the final 2 weeks of my 9 week enrollment in Oaxaca. DQ, on the other hand, excused themselves from changing my marginal pre-paid dwelling in Barcelona and also from moving me from Barcelona to a different city, citing fully-booked lodgings and too short a notice as reasons (this was high season). Popular cities can fill up fast during high season.

Curriculum

I am not an educator and I do not play one on TV. What I can say is that some curricula are better than others. I like having a strong curriculum with a sense of direction—mileposts if you will. The two college courses I had both had a strong curriculum with good textbooks. The textbooks and materials at AHA seemed dated. In Europe they use a six-level system (A1 and A2 beginners, B1 and B2 intermediates, and C1 and C2 advanced) with defined criteria for each level. I was never enamored of the DQ text materials, in spite of their slick production values—I think they often sacrificed clarity for splash. At higher levels the curriculum becomes less well defined and more governed by the needs of the students (and whims of the teacher). For example in Mexico I had one professor who liked to bring news articles and other reprints to class for us to read and discuss. Some were interesting and others, like the one cataloging the new slang words introduced by the drug trafficking industry, less interesting.

It is best to study in the location where you will be using the language. Language is tied to culture and always has a local flavor. Only the most gifted and experienced of teachers will be able to help you when it comes to learning which words and idioms are used outside of their region in lieu of their own, although most will know at least enough to keep you out of trouble—for example warning you that although the verb “coger” (to grab or get) is fine in Spain, it has a vulgar sexual connotation in Mexico and other Latin American countries and is not used there. Some language differences run deeper than idiomatic usages and involve grammar. Studying in Spain, for example, is a good way to learn the “vosotros” form, which you will never use in the Western hemisphere. Likewise with the “vos” form in Argentina. Most schools also offer culture classes that help you learn about the history, culture, customs, and food of the country and region. You won’t learn about the Spanish Civil war in Mexico, nor will you learn how to cook mole in Spain.

Finally a word about time in the classroom. I never found it worthwhile to sign up for more than 20 hours a week. My brain could not absorb any faster. A good teacher or teachers (I usually had two per day) will send you home with an hour of homework. At AHA during the month I refer to as “Subjunctive Boot Camp” (their level 5) it usually took me 2-3 hours after school just to keep up. The culture classes are typically optional (unless you need college credit hours—varies by school) so feel free to pick and choose. I often missed them, although I must say that those offered by Sergio at AHA were worth every minute! In most cases a school, and especially a large one like DQ, will make you pay for the culture class hours as part of the required weekly tuition. Shop around. At ICO they were fond of setting up a few hours of cultural exchange with local Mexican students who wanted to learn some English. I did not find these helpful as my Mexicans often failed to appear. Lastly, it was my experience that I could not sustain more than 7-10 weeks in a row of 20 hours per week school without some substantial time away. Plus, you will certainly want some free days for tourism in each location you visit.

Instruction Costs

Costs depend on factors like location, school infrastructure, textbooks, classroom hours, and teacher salaries. In general I have paid between $100 per week for 20 hours (ICO, for a 7 week stint) to three times that much at DQ in Spain. In Oaxaca instruction can be had for less than what ICO charges with some shopping around.

Room and Board
If you are doing an extended stay somewhere, lodgings and diet are pretty important. In this regard I have had several experiences and will share in detail.

Family Stay

At AHA in San Miguel de Allende (Nov/Dec/Jan) I had a terrific family (4 generations and two dogs under one roof) with whom I am still in contact. Rosa Maria cooked wonderful food, the location was great, and the comfort factor was very good (private room, private bath, good mattress, separate entrance). There were often other students in residence and we all dined together with Rosa Maria and Cristobal, creating a nice family feeling and cultural interchange. At DQ Guanajuato the family stay felt more like a business. A maid usually prepared our meals.

Going for a family stay is a crap shoot—you never know what you are going to get. Some “families” are single widows trying to earn some extra income who will dote on you, others are student warehouses, and others are wonderful situations you will never forget. I have heard stories of overprotective house moms—usually from the female college students. I have heard stories of excellent vegetarian meals in some homes. However I don’t think I would recommend a family stay without a word-of-mouth recommendation from someone who has stayed there.

Student Residence

For my 3 months in Spain I elected not to do family stays and I asked DQ to arrange my residences with half board (breakfast and dinner) so I would have more time for school and site-seeing. I had requested non-smoking locations only. Here’s what I got in each of the four cities I visited. Please note that DQ has many places they can lodge you–I have included the addresses of the ones I was assigned to.

Madrid (June)
Location: In Madrid I stayed in the student residence that is in the same building as the school (Calle Duque de Liria, 6). The location was very good, a stone’s throw from a metro stop (Ventura Rodriguez) and walking distance to the Plaza del Sol. It was nice to be able to get up 15 minutes prior to class!
Physical plant: The residence occupies an entire floor and has about 12 rooms, some single and others double occupancy. It is an older building. There was free WiFi in the bedrooms. The dining room had a TV and some old couches. It was all rather threadbare.
Room My room was small but well laid out with a bed, desk, chair, and wardrobe. The mattress, like most I had in Spain, seemed to be what we in the USA would call the box spring without the mattress! To call it lumpy and uncomfortable would be an understatement. I triple-folded the provided blanket and used it as a pad under the sheets to benefit. In my feedback to the school I referred to their mattresses as instruments of the Spanish Inquisition. Pillows are always quite personal and I always travel with a couple. Sheets were provided but not towels. The room faced a noisy street.
Bath: There was a bank of 4 bathrooms off the hall that were shared by all, but I never had a problem finding an open one when I needed it. The baths, like most I encountered in Spain, lacked shelving or hooks and it was a challenge to find a place to put your things. Bring a hanging toiletry travel bag like the ones they sell at REI. TP was provided.
Food: Irina, the resident attendant, lived in one of the units and did the cleaning and cooking. I love Irina, although her cooking was patchy at best (sorry, dear). Some nights we had frozen pizza, hot of course. Breakfast, typical at the residences I lived in, consisted of cereal, boxed milk (warm if it were a freshly opened box), white bread, butter, jam, sometimes cream cheese or Nutella, and powdered coffee or tea bags. In all locations I lunched and supplemented my diet with food from the grocery store or a restaurant visit.
Laundry: There was a washing machine usable for free and lines to hang your clothes (no washing on rainy days). The machine broke near the end of my stay and I went to my next location with dirty clothes.
AC: There was a fan in my room, which I had good cause to use. The residence had no AC.
Comfort (smoke, noise, etc.): Students were fond of straggling home loudly at 5 AM, chatting and smoking in the dining room until 6. Earplugs are helpful if not essential (I was glad to have brought a box of the solid silicone gel earplugs with me—don’t leave home without them—the foam type won’t be enough). Spain in general is a very smoke-filled country, like stepping back 20 years in the USA. I was quoted a figure of 36% of the population (compared with 20% in the USA), with bars and restaurants often still filled with smoke (although I hear laws are changing next year). Good luck with the smoke situation. To DQ a non-smoking residence is one in which no one smokes in your room (or so it seems). I suppose this would be difficult to control in any case.

Granada (June)
Location: In Granada I stayed in the DQ Residence (Cardenal Mendoza, 5), which is an easy 15 minute walk from the train station and a 25 minute walk to school.
Physical plant: The residence is its own building and has 4 (or 5?) floors and about 30-something rooms. It has a reception desk that is staffed all the time so checking in is no problem. Free WiFi is available although it was finicky in my room—some days fine, others not available except in a radius of 10’ of the router in the cafeteria.
Room: My room was large and amazingly quiet. It had a nice desk, reading lamp, wooden chair, and another box spring from hell. Sheets were provided but not towels.
Bath: My room had a private bath, although the small tub that formed the base of the shower took some getting used to in order not to slip and fall. A starter roll of TP was provided but then you were on your own. The bathroom did have a plastic shelving unit for my things. It also had a bidet!
Food: was similar to that in Madrid except that no coffee was in evidence. I bought a bottle of powdered coffee. The residence does provide ample refrigerator and shelf space for residents in the kitchen and there are facilities to cook. Several students did their own shopping/cooking and I was sometimes jealous.
Laundry: There were free washing machines (and a dryer for rainy days) on the roof.
AC: The building has AC but the staff appears not to use it much. Perhaps this is because the lobby is cooler and they don’t notice the heat, or perhaps it is a DQ corporate cost-saving initiative. In any case they were always willing to turn it on (it only works on a floor-by-floor basis) by request. I also made the fortuitous discovery that the skeleton key for my closet (who would want to lock their closet anyway), although it did not work for the closet itself, did work for the closet in the hall were the AC thermostat was located. So at least I and those on my floor had AC a la carte [I visited again in 2011 and the hall closets all had padlocks. DQ must have read my blog].
Comfort (smoke, noise, etc.): This was a very quiet and comfortable location (except for the mattress and finicky WiFi). The social areas were ample and well laid out. The smoking room worked pretty well keeping the smoke isolated.

Salamanca (July)
Location: In Salamanca I stayed in a university dorm operated by the Carmelites (Rector Esperabé No. 49-65). It is a long but doable walk from either train station, and a 15 minute walk to school or to the Plaza Mayor.
Physical plant: The residence is its own building and seems newer. It has 4 (or 5?) floors and over 100 rooms. Internet is wired into every room (ask for an Ethernet cable if one is not present).
Room: My room was large and very comfortable including the mattress! I was able to borrow a fan at reception although they made it seem like an exception was being made for me. TP, sheets, and towels were abundantly provided and the room cleaned on an almost daily basis. Compared with all the other places I stayed in Spain, this was heaven.
Bath: My room had a private bath with shelving for everything, towel racks, the works.
Food: was abundant and varied and served cafeteria-style to a hoard of students. Breakfast was cereal as usual but coffee was pre-made. Lunch/dinner had a nice salad bar and more than one entrée at every meal. I had no complaints. The lobby had vending machines for soda and beer!
Laundry: There were washing machines for which one had to pay 5 Euros per load, powdered soap included. At that price free ironing and a foot massage should have been included as well, but it was convenient.
AC: The building had no AC and my bedroom faced into the sun all day. Rolling down the metal storm shutters really helped, as did the fan. If possible ask them to give you a room that faces northeast.
Comfort (smoke, noise, etc.): This was a very quiet and comfortable location in almost every respect.

Barcelona (August)
Location: In Barcelona I stayed in what I took to be a contracted residence owned by someone other than DQ. It was a good 30 minute walk to school (or a 5 Euro cab ride) and located in a rather tired working class neighborhood (Calle Farrel 25). It was close to two metro stops (Hostafrancs and Plaza de España).
Physical plant: My residence was what had been an apartment or condo. I understand that a few of the other units in the building also house students. The apartment was long and very narrow, like living in a train car. There was no WiFi period. You could go across the street to an internet café and pay 1 Euro per hour to sit in a hot box staffed by a surly chap from India.
Room: My room was very small with barely enough room for the bed (another hellacious box spring), IKEA grade computer desk, halogen table lamp, IKEA wardrobe, and folding metal chair well past its prime. The window (actually a single French door) gave onto a small concrete enclosed patio with a clothes line, however this door could only be opened 1/3 of the way before running into the desk. It was claustrophobic to be in this room. Sheets were provided.

Don´t drop your soap!

School Infrastructure
Some schools were just more comfortable than others! Here’s the rundown on the ones I attended:

• Seattle (SCCC and SLA): typical college digs.
• AHA is in a wonderful old building with, in the winter, ice-box classrooms. Gas heaters were available and I was always turning them on. The student seats were a hodgepodge of old grade-school desks—less than comfortable. Free WiFi was available in the central courtyard. There was sometimes someone selling coffee and snacks in the cozy courtyard. The school was an easy walk to most places in this beautiful little town.
• ICO is in a wonderful old hacienda estate that occupies what seems like a whole city block. The classrooms had pretty comfortable chairs around tables. Free WiFi was available in the courtyard. There was a small café that served coffee, snacks, and a lunch of the day that was usually quite a bargain. There were plenty of places to lounge about and socialize—almost like being in a park. Walking to nearby restaurants and the town center was easy.
• DQ Guanajuato is in a great old building with the typical DQ corporate furniture—comfy chairs upholstered in red around configurable white Formica tables. There was a computer room with old computers but no WiFi. The roof had a comfortable terrace for hanging out. The school was a 15 minute walk from the town center.
• DQ Madrid is in a more recent office building with most classrooms on one floor, typical DQ corporate furniture, and free WiFi that sometimes reached into the classroom depending on which one you were in. Vending machines were available for coffee and snacks. AC was available and used. There was a notable lack of places to hang out—people would loiter, smoking, by the front entrance. The school is close to a metro stop.
• DQ Granada is in a tall narrow building with cramped stairs you had to climb to reach one of 4 (or was it 5?) floors each having a couple or three small classrooms with the typical DQ furniture. WiFi was available in the basement level, where there were also some old computers and some vending machines. AC was available and used. The school is close to the Gran Vía and a large Corte Inglés department store/grocery. Rather than hang out in the drab basement students would loiter, smoking, by the front entrance.
• DQ Salamanca is in a nice old building with attached ‘DQ Café’ with really good coffee drinks, snacks, lunches and dinners, wine and beer. The café spills out onto a large enclosed courtyard which was great for hanging out. There was a nice computer room as well as free WiFi in the courtyard. The school was an easy walk to most places in the heart of the city.
• DQ Barcelona is in a modern glass and chrome building, very slick, spacious, and quite air-conditioned. There were nice computers and free WiFi in the lobby. There is a nice large courtyard in the back for smokers. The school is a feasible walk from metro stops and the Barcelona Sants train station but is otherwise in a pretty boring part of town.

Don Quijote Language Schools
If I were to recommend DQ schools to prospective students I would rank the ones I have attended as follows:

1. Granada—mostly because I liked Granada, but also because the residence was nice.
2. Salamanca—depending on the day I would rank this as the number one spot. The residence was dynamite, the city very interesting, and the school comfortable.
3. Guanajuato—I also like Guanajuato a lot.
4. Madrid—nothing to write home about but not a bad place.
5. Barcelona—I would not return to DQ Barcelona. Come here as a tourist.

I also heard that Don Quijote was bought out a year or two ago by a language school named Enforex. I also heard that Enforex offers a similar experience for less money—that DQ was the “expensive brand” but without much difference other than the marketing. I also heard that the company is in the process of constructing a hotel-like structure near the center of Barcelona (with AC, WiFi, and a swimming pool) for student use in the near future. Still, I would recommend adult learners come to Barcelona as tourists and spend their educational money in a cheaper location like Salamanca or Granada. Also, I am certain that there are learning opportunities that are less expensive and, given the nature of language learning, probably not a bad way to go. In fact, I doubt that my next language school will be one that needs to pay for a slick corporate image and marketing campaigns—sorry DQ.
Addendum
I am currently taking German instruction at the Goethe Institut in Freiburg, Germany. I will have more to post later but after two weeks I have the following impressions:

• The curriculum materials are superior here.
• The teachers are quite professional and move through the material in an organized manner.
• The student residence is great. Not without problems but on a par with my Salamanca experience (noted above)
• Freiburg is a great small town.
• The Goethe Institut has several locations. I recall attending classes with them way back in 1970, so they’ve been around a while. They are also a not-for-profit organization. I can recommend them without reservation. DQ should come up and do a site vist to learn how to improve their operations!

Crew member Oriol on the Pacific Mystic in Marina Papagayo in Costa Rica.

Prior to climbing aboard I spent just over a week at the Sonora Sport Center Sailing School just outside Guaymas, Mexico. Vince Radice put me through the paces on a variety of vessels, teaching me the ins and outs of basic seamanship. However this was all what is known as “day sailing”, where one returns to the conveniences of land at the end of each day. Costa Rica to Panama was to be different—a combination of “coastal cruising” and “blue water” (deep ocean) sailing.

Costal and blue water sailing usually require at least a few nights at sea, where there is no place to “pull over” for the night. Someone must be at the helm 24 hours a day. On the Pacific Mystic we did 3 hour shifts at night. My shifts were 8-11 PM and 2-5 AM, with various turns at the helm during the day. When not at the helm try to sleep is what one does, but actually sleeping is another matter. Everything moves. The sea has layers of waves, from large swells to waves upon the swells to smaller waves upon the waves. Add the buffeting of the wind on the sails and you get the shake part of the equation.

At sailing school in Guaymas we were far enough north for February to be cool. Most days we wore long sleeves on the boat, and often a light jacket as well. Costa Rica and Panama in April were decidedly tropical—as in mid-90s with a humidity to match. Although travel brochures with photos of sandy beaches and palm trees can be appealing, the reality of the crush of heat that smothers one in the tropics is another matter. Sandals, a thin T-shirt, and a bathing suit are the only clothes I wore the entire time. I was seldom able to put the thought of a cool shower out of mind. And even when I was able to shower, the relief lasted only as long as the shower itself. Add to this the fact that boats are designed to keep water out of the interior spaces (and hence air) and you have the perfect oven. This is the bake part of the equation. If you enjoy the sensation of sticking to your sheets from cheesy sweat while trying but never quite managing to sleep at night, yachting in the tropics is for you!

But wait, there’s more! The Pacific Mystic, as fine a ship as it certainly is, does not offer convenient places to walk, jog, exercise, or even sit comfortably for long periods–a problem on all ships smaller than huge. They say that astronauts lose 25% of their muscle mass in 2 weeks in space due to lack of gravity. I suspect that one could lose as much at sea in a small boat, although it would probably take a bit longer. I felt beaten up after only a week.

Then there is the food situation. Fortunately for us Valerie is a gourmet chef! She made some incredible meals—the best French toast, scrambled eggs, meatballs in spaghetti, salted mango slices in lime juice, sandwiches, etc. that central American grocery stores could support. Still, it is difficult in a tiny kitchen that moves and that has a small upright refrigerator–imagine that your top-loading washing machine were your fridge and you’ll have a very clear picture–the things you want often migrate to the bottom. It is a challenge to maintain the diet that one may prefer and it is easy to develop, ahem, bowel problems.

On top of this we had to concern ourselves with the weather. We had some amazing star-filled nights with dolphins leaving phosphorescent trails while playing off our bow, and other nights with blazing thunderstorms and pounding seas. For the entire stretch from Golfito, southern Costa Rica, to Panama City, we also had the wind on our nose and an unfavorable current. This required that we take the sails down and use the diesel. With our top speed reduced from a typical 5-6 knots per hour (1 nautical mile = 1.15 statute mile) to about 2 knots, we were in fear of running out of fuel at sea before reaching our destination. And with only limited food supplies and 100 gallons of fresh water, being adrift at sea is not a desirable situation.

Finally, things break on ships. One of Valerie and Eric’s friends described yachting as “fixing boats in exotic places.” Prior to my joining them Valerie and Eric had broken their boom (holds the bottom of the main sail) in a storm, and almost toasted their diesel engine by sucking sand into the cooling system while crossing a sand bar. Expensive repairs. Fortunately nothing major broke during my time aboard.

And these are just the major issues. One still must deal with immigration and customs and port captains and marina fees and navigation (obstacles in the water!) and other traffic etc.

Oriol handling a line during the Panama Canal crossing. Right behind us was Eternal Fortune, a huge ship out of Hong Kong.

Kilos exactos!

Everyone could probably describe the characteristic landscape of their home location—the visual aspects of their environment that partake of the relief, vegetation, structures, light, weather, and so forth—perhaps even mentioning a brown cloud of pollution that might hang over things in winter (with its associated smellscape, which I won’t discuss). But could you describe your soundscape? This requires a bit more discrimination.

For example in Phoenix, where I lived for 20 years, the soundscape had some airline and traffic noise with the odd siren set against a relatively rich assortment of bird song: mockingbirds, often singing at night during mating season, the memorable cactus wren (the state bird), the mourning dove, the ubiquitous house sparrows and finches, and the odd flicker, jay, cardinal, phainopepla, warbler, or owl. In summer there would be the hum of air conditioners, the whir of ceiling fans, and the boom of the monsoon thunder set against the lazy hum of cicadas and crickets.

Seattle, on the other hand, was more subdued. More characteristic was the interminable gentle patter of raindrops on the desperate moldy-green sky-lights, a few paltry crows, robins, sea gulls, and flickers, and recently, where I was living, the European squeal and hiss of the light rail.

Oaxaca is a whole different ball game. It seems that every night when I lie down to sleep I am aware of the fact that my ears are ringing from the day. The ambient noise level is simply higher. The traffic noise is louder as there appear to be more vehicles with less muffling, and a decided affinity for laying on the horn at every opportunity. There is road construction everywhere, with workers cheerfully operating concrete saws without ear protection. Church bells are ubiquitous in Mexico as are, apparently, fireworks. People seem to love them, especially during church holidays and feast days, which are frequent. Especially popular are powerful bottle rockets (‘cohetes’) which, even though illegal in the city, are daily to be heard at almost any hour! I am hearing them even as I write this.

But perhaps the most unusual aspect of the local soundscape to the gringo ear is the sound of street vendors. Beginning at 7 AM there begins an hours-long chorus of chants from all quarters. There is the “Agua, el agua” of the purified water jug vendors, the loud clang announcing the arrival twice a week of the garbage truck (at which point one must run out with one’s trash, flag down the truck, and deliver the goods), and, my favorite, the loudspeaker-equipped propane delivery trucks. These trucks prowl the town, their speakers blaring a brief bit of branding music, followed by “Gas de Oaxaca, kilos exactos”. Most homes use propane to heat their water and cook. Although you can set an appointment to have your tank refilled, you can also just flag down the truck when it passes your house, which is often more than once a day.

The dogs here seem to love all of this, adding their barks to the mix. But the birds in Oaxaca? I think they are too sound-shocked to sing.

Olmec Statue

A long time ago—current science suggests at least 35,000 years ago—some humans crossed over the then passable Bering Strait and headed south. They had children, hunted, planted crops, found new and interesting animals and plants to domesticate, and settled in. And, as all humans do, they fought, conquered, killed, stole their neighbor’s land, and so forth.

Fast forward to the Olmecs (a word from the Aztecs, a later civilization, that means “rubber people” in náhuatl). This is one of the first well-developed cultures we know of in Mesoamerica, and dates from 1400-400 BC. The Olmecs created rubber balls and the first ball game, the number zero, giant head statues carved in stone, a written language, and were progenitors of many of the cultures to follow, including the Maya, known for their advanced astronomy (using a base-20 number system). Both of these cultures eventually died out for reasons anthropologists love to base their PhD theses on—we don’t know why the cultures disappeared for sure, but their ruins make for great objects of interest and enterprise. Eventually the Aztecs, who are through to have originated in what is now the American southwest, drifted down to what is now Mexico City and settled in, subsequently conquering the neighboring tribes and imposing their will upon them—which often included removing their hearts as sacrificial offerings to ensure the return of the sun.

In the 16th Century the Spaniards came to displace the Aztecs, but continued with similar rapacious intentions. They forbade the production of wine or olive oil, condemning Mexico to a sea of beer and lard. Disease, rape, slave labor, racism, and the lust for loot decimated the substantial existing population. Mountains of silver were shipped back to Spain, the miners often being worked without food as it was simply cheaper to replace them. Eventually arose a large mixed-race population (‘criollos’ or ‘mestizos’), looked down upon by the much smaller pure-blood Spanish elites or “peninsulares”. Finally on September 16, 1810, the “cry of independence” was issued by a priest in Dolores Hidalgo and bloodshed began. Mexico finally obtained independence from Spain in 1821 after 300 years of pounding.

One hundred years later, in 1910, it became clear to the Mexican people that one set of rapists (the rich, the Catholic church) had replaced the former. Inept leadership of a country that had been systematically stripped of resources for hundreds of years by the Spanish provided a perfect opportunity in the mid-1800s for the USA to take, by force, under the slogan “manifest destiny” (well, it looks like it should all be ours so we’re just going to take it), about two-thirds of Mexico, which now comprises the American Southwest (and the former home of the Aztecs). Remember the Alamo? So in 1910 began the very bloody Mexican Revolution, a multi-sided civil war lasting 20 years in which millions died to advance various causes, including land reform and the reigning in of the Catholic enterprise. This resulted in the Constitution of 1917.

As we approach the 100th anniversary of the Mexican Revolution many things remain unchanged. The rich are rich in Mexico. And the poor are oh so very poor. Many things have improved, but it is revealing to find that in Mexico there remains, alive and well in the public consciousness, such a thing as “Herod’s Law” (La Ley de Herodes). Basically this law specifies that one must either “screw or be screwed.” It will be interesting to see where Mexico is in another 100 years.

We come from the deep roots of corn

Probably the most frequent questions I am asked in Mexico are

1. Where are you from?

2. What do you do?

3. Why are you learning Spanish?

The first two are easy to answer: nowhere, and nothing. I tell people I am living out of a suitcase, that I was raised in San Antonio by Mexican parents, but that I’m coming from Seattle by way of Phoenix—neither of which I can call home now—and that I worked as an ER doc and later as a programmer for Microsoft but am now a bum learning Spanish. This is good for an easy 30 minutes of conversation (5 in Spanish as I have fewer words at my disposal).

That third question is more difficult to answer. Further, I ask myself what it means to learn Spanish and when will I know I have done so? Not easy stuff. Probably the best I can do is to say I enjoy the process of foreign language study. I spent several years studying German and living in Germany during my young adulthood—a wonderful time, and one which probably flavored my language predilection. My parents spoke Spanish as their native tongue, but hid it from us kids, using it as a secret language. Yet they would haul us all down to Mexico a couple of times a year to visit our grandmothers, who would serve us exotic foods (papaya and mango were exotic in the 1950s) we had collected at the chaotic marketplace. Less concrete is the sense that learning a foreign language and its cultural milieu expands my sense of who I am, enables me to think outside of my usual US English box, and washes away some of that inevitable ethnocentrism that seems to be part of the human experience.

However the most difficult question is the one I ask myself. When will it be enough? It is manifestly impossible, in my opinion, to fully learn a foreign language/culture without having spent several years of one’s youth immersed therein. There is simply too much to learn. Even native speakers of a language do not know all the parts, places, peoples, dialects, slang, and history of their language/culture. So when is enough? For me I’ve decided it will be enough when I am able to enjoy consuming, without sweating blood, some of the delicacies of the Spanish-speaking world in Spanish: movies by Almodóvar, books by Márquez, Fuentes, or Paz. And be able to chat about them afterwards. I think I’m about half way there. Check back with me in another 2 years.