Awwww... Look at the puppy!

Sometimes it’s easy to get wrapped up in emotions down here, and while I didn’t really care to talk about politics in this blog, I think it’s one of those things that’s inevitable while in a developing country—let alone a Latin American one. Other than that last post, I’ll probably not get too political anymore. So with that out of the way…

The tough life

Harvey and I currently find ourselves literally laying in hammocks, feeling a cool breeze float over the hot black sands, and listening to some pretty relaxing music here in Monterrico. Our hostel, Johnny’s Place, is pretty much the ideal tropical bungalow: tree trunk supports, palm roofs, stiff drinks, and an attitude that says, "Hey stay for a few days because...why not?"

I had come to the beach with the intention of finding some waves that I could surf, but Monterrico is not the place for such things. With no real identifiable point or reef break, the waves are unpredictable at best and deadly at worst. The tubes are fast growing—and they grow very, very big—and fast crashing, and when they crash they land right on the sand. If you find yourself getting caught in the underside of a building wave, I’ve found it’s best to try to not resist it’s power and just try to not land on your head (trust me from personal experience—not fun). What is the most spectacular phenomenon about the waves here in Monterrico is the undertow. The back suction from a receding wave is absolutely unbelievable, and we’ve seen our fair share of unsuspecting people get trapped in the mess of a break here.

With all that aside, there are certainly better times to be trying the ocean than others. Yesterday, Harvey and I spent a good two hours boogie boarding, body surfing and getting our asses handed to us by the force of the Pacific. Being in the ocean is always an insanely humbling experience, and the breaks of Monterrico have certain proven to be the pinnacle of that for me. Hanging out in the NorCal waters has never really been too big of a struggle (local territorialism aside), so experiencing the real force of the ocean has been quite the learning experience.

Another thing that has been a learning experience has been the dogs down here in Guatemala. Everywhere you go in this country you see packs and packs of stray dogs mingling all over the place. Most of the time you will see the dogs in the cities and their only concern in the world is finding any scrap of food that they can. Since Xela didn’t have the most efficient trash pickup service I have ever seen, there would often be large plastic bags of trash left around businesses late at night. It was not an uncommon thing to see 20 if not 30 dogs surrounding a few bags, tearing them apart and fighting over food scraps. When you did see it, it was absolutely amazing to watch—from a distance of course.

Most of the dogs we’ve encountered here have been really, really sweet, beautiful dogs. Since it seems that Guatemala has gotten the memo on the benefits of spaying and neutering their animals, the mutt mixes in this country have made for some beautiful animals. While I would love to be able to take one of these dogs home, for some reason I don’t think my parents or the National Park Service would appreciate my humanitarianism. But overall the dogs in Guatemala haven’t really been any cause for concern, until we got to Monterrico.

When I think about all the travel stories I have heard over the years, there is one that takes the cake for being the absolute greatest. I hope she forgives me if I tell the story wrong, but when my friend Sarah and her friend Colleen were backpacking throughout Southeast Asia, they found themselves being chased by a seemingly rabid Cambodian mutt. Wanting to avoid the consequences of being attacked by a wild dog overseas, they tried to hightail it away from the dog. For Sarah, that choice ended up being a wise one, but for her friend Colleen—who cartoonishly got bit on the butt by the mutt—the end result was not so glorious.

So with this story in mind, I have been very, very careful about my interactions with dogs in this country, but like I mentioned before, I haven’t had any problems. But the other evening, Harvey and I decided to take a romantic stroll with each other down the beach to explore the area and watch the sun set over the Pacific. While walking down, we noticed a little crab scurrying about a conch shell, and I stopped to take a picture. A pack of four dogs mosed on up to the conch shell and started sniffing around it, trying to make something of it. Wanting nothing to do with the dogs, Harvey and I kept walking, talking in a loving voice to the dogs as we passed them (something that we always do). But within 15 seconds of us walking away, we found ourselves getting surrounded by the four dogs, as they barked loudly, showed their teeth and snapped their jaws at us. It was at this moment that I had wished I read that “Worst Case Scenario” book that I always see for 50% off at Borders. Instinctively I decided to react to these dogs as I would if I saw a mountain lion, so I backed away slowly hoping that I would show to them that they had the dominance in this situation. That didn’t work. I looked behind me and saw that Harvey was actually getting away from the situation successfully by walking very fast into the water and allowing the dogs to focus all their attention on me. So while backing away didn’t work, I decided to take the black bear approach, so I lunged at the dogs and started screaming and yelling at them. While they were initially shocked at my reaction, I only pissed them off more. I tried looking around for a large stick so I could fight my way out of the situation, but there wasn’t one to be found. With my luck looking very dire at that moment, another pack of dogs came out of nowhere with their snouts gnarled, barking very loudly at my attackers. This new pack swooped in and diverted the attention from me on to them and the two packs began to fight, as I was able to make a quick get away. Needless to say, we don’t go exploring on the beach anymore.

We’re spending our last day in Monterrico with some newly made expat friends, taking dips in the pool and staying out of the sun, as the two of us have some of the worst sunburns we’ve ever gotten. Now I can hear all of you saying to the computer, “Brien you need to put on sunscreen,” and in response let me tell you that I reapplied three times yesterday but it didn’t matter.

We are in the process of deciding whether we want to chase the surf South to some nicer beaches in El Salvador or head up to Honduras for a few days. We’re getting pretty excited for a large boat party this upcoming week in one of the most beautiful lakes in Guatemala, so the future is looking bright. Oh, and Harvey’s birthday is on Thursday. Good times ahead, I hope everyone is enjoying life back home.

Also, kudos to everyone in Madison standing in solidarity, as it is very neat to see videos and photos from the protests in the Capitol Square.