Morning sounds and human behavior

Roosters typically start crowing around midnight, and stop about 11:59pm. If you're lucky enough, you can avoid hearing them for one full minute per day. I suppose the myth about roosters crowing at sunrise took hold because nothing else is making noise at 4:30 am except for those worthless birds. The rest of the day they are drowned out by diesel engines, dogs, cows, sound systems, drive by broadcasts and children.

As humans we appear genetically predisposed to mimicry, which is why you need to be careful what words you use around your offspring. When we age and mature the tendency to mimic doesn't seem to die very much; which is why it can be very easy to pick up a dialect. A certain amount of impulse control does develop in the more intelligent of our species; a judgment that says stop, wait, don't imitate that. No need.

As our van ambled up the dirt road at 5:30 am with the shrill crow of the rooster penetrating our opened windows, my first impulse was to crow back, but I stifled it. Others in our vehicle could not. Why is this? Is it why dogs howl at sirens? Why we cheer at football games? why we follow along with songs? Is it all just basic instinct mimicry unbridled by better judgment?

The one annoying sound that humans do not mimic is the aneurysm-causing earthquake of a baby's cry. Although, I think that if an adult could replicate that sound, we would, and people would give us money to stop. The closest we've managed to come to it is the trunk-filled sub-woofer.

Perhaps that's also why I have difficulty being around the Bus Stop People, those with uncontrollable tics, shakes, and repetitious body motions. There's nothing there I want to emulate and it sends a message of rejection through my core. Don't look at that! don't be THAT! don't mimic THAT ! We need positive influences in our lives to want to be better sometimes. I found little I wanted to emulate on the El Salvador part of this trip. Only perhaps our former professional surfer, who exhibited a greater depth of character, humility, grace and playfulness than one normally sees in surfers, was an inspiration.

Worst Advertising Display EVER

Take a close look:


Sorry bout the flash burst. I only had one pic before my batteries died.
You got this girl spewing some kind of frozen blood particles out of her mouth. They seem to loop around a bit before connecting with another blood spurt coming out of the coca cola bottle.
Then there's that hideous chunk of liver with legs sticking its tongue out at me. And a disembodied eyeball getting a fix on the whole spectacle, wishing it could shut, but alas, it has no eyelid.

If this is what coke does to you, good thing I didn't have any on the trip.
The placement seems to suggest that if you buy the coke, you might need the product displayed below it...

Perfection

Wednesday Day 12

Perfection in a wave was found yesterday at Punta Mango (see photos from previous post). The boat ride was fun; we had to wait out a set at the point and then point the boat into the whitewater which launched the vessel partly into the air. It was about a 20 minute ride and another boat had already disembarked. All in all three boats were out there and about 20 people. It was hard to catch waves once again.

I did manage to get a few. My first big one I was afraid to pull in. It looked like it was going to close out on my so I pulled out, but I probably should have gone for the barrel. It's a heavy wave and if you get hit with the lip it can hurt. I was nervous most of the time. It was really hot out and I went for water once. At 8:30 the sun was punishing and there was not a trace of wind. Beautiful spot though; nothing on the coastline except rocks and trees and green hills. My muscles were hurting and a cramp was trying to form in one of my calves. This perfect wave was a little much for me, going on a night of zero sleep. Eventually I crawled into the boat, found some foam padding, propped up my bodyboard for shade and tried to sleep on the bottom.

I ended up in that room with three other gals. Mike had gotten a room for himself and two teenage girls. Uh-huh. Mic, the rather large guy, also wanted to sleep in a room that night instead of a hammock. So John moved the gals in with me and moved Mic and Goggles in with Mike. Mike is a very hyper guy who didn't finish high school. And his logic evades most of us. For instance, he noticed that people drive very fast and there's no highway patrol. Because of that he figured that the government must really care about its people because it doesn't get money from them from speeding tickets. Um, right. That's why there's no sidewalks -- most of the people, who don't even have a car, have to walk on the shoulder with trucks going by at 60mph. That's why there's dirt roads everywhere and poverty and orphans and... and... anyway. Because the govt. cares so much.

A huge, close and very very loud electrical and rainstorm moved in after dark. At first I thought someone was dragging something very heavy across cement. No, it was thunder. The Erikas were so freaked out by it they screamed and fell on the floor then ran outside then back inside. I told them they had to stop screaming or they were going to have to sleep in the hammocks again! Apparently they didn't get any sleep out there either. I put on my cd (was able to recharge the batteries in the room) to a "Relaxing Thundering Rainstorm" so I couldn't tell what was nature and what was memorex, at least for awhile, The sound of the rain on the roof was lovely and I drifted off til 6am.

This morning I paddled out at the point at Los Flores. There was just a little bit of a bump on it and smaller, but still clean. Caught a few good waves, although what might have been one of my best, my shorts created drag on the water and I got behind the peak. I didn't want to use the lycra that early in the morning but it seems to be the only thing that works. If I use just my bathing suit, a two-piece, my bottoms get ripped downwards by the force of the wave. I managed to put my rash guard over the shorts and tuck the ends of the shorts under my bathing suit. That seemed to take care of it.

Turns out I didn't have to pay for the room after all. Somehow John found money to cover all but $1. Getting that room was the best decision I made this entire trip.

On the way back we were able to save some time by fording a river. The bridge is under construction. I guess the water levels were low enough to drive through it. The whole way back, I was in the very back bench seat, which is also where the subwoofers are. The people in the front played this nasty disco crap most of the way home with a very loud base. I don't get this kind of music. The young ones seemed to love it and danced in their seats. I kept begging them to turn it down but they just laughed at me. It rattled my brain. Luckily the trip was over and we're back at the house, the house without any screamy teenage girls. I even got a few decent pictures of me on a wave.


Myself with a guy we'd met at El Zonte, who came down for the better quality surf at Los Flores.

Los Flores

Tuesday Day 9.




I'm kind of over it. This whole business of waking up at 4:30 to wait for transportation that arrives 45 minutes late just to fight waves and figure out how to get a good one in a crowd. Today's transportation hiccup was boats. The largest of our group couldn't go because the boat would probably sink. These were very simple fishing boats with outboard motors and a few benches. He is that big... so big his stomach is split and his butt crack sticks out of his surf trunk when he paddles.

Last night was another hellish night of crazy tired but no sleep. Up at 4:45 for some really magnificent waves. At that place I cannot mention. Only, Goggles had a huge problem with the way I caught a wave, and hopped me intentionally to teach me something. I was furious at him and he wouldn't budge his position, so I paddled north and caught some really nice big ones by myself. It was something about taking turns. The problem is on a bodyboard, nobody gives you a turn so you just go when something comes up.

The day before we'd surfed twice at K59. Three of the four treks from the van to the beach I ended up walking alone. We later discovered that someone had been robbed there, it wasn't safe. Great. Another great wave we cannot go to. When I got out of the water a local guy talked to me, he'd liked my waves. I kept an eye on my fins but he seemed cool. I was so tired anyone could have taken me. Half way up the walk to the van I got a ride in the back of a pickup truck. One of the guys spoke fluent English so I was able to tell them to stop when we passed the van.

After the Monday morning session we visited children in this huge orphanage, giving the kids squirt guns and playing with them. A church group from Missouri was doing construction; the already large place was growing. Mostly kids end up there because their parents can't afford to keep them. Anna took over a class for a few minutes and taught the kids to say "John is hairy."

That morning's surf I almost felt like my legs were getting used to all this activity. I arrived cut and bruised from riverboarding and will leave with infections and more bruises. The busted up finger isn't bothering me too much, but it's still very sore to touch. I vow when I get home to exercise, then this sort of vacation won't be too draining.

After the orphanage and lunch, we piled into the vans and headed south. Just outside San Salvadore we saw a man we'd talked with from El Zonte. I guess he heard the swell was big and decided to drive down too. So Punta Roca is the second best wave in El Salvador. Today we discovered #1.

We're staying at a surf resort at Los Flores. It's a large outdoor restaurant and bar with a bunch of hammocks strung up, pool, and some hotel rooms. John thought we could all sleep in the hammocks. Problem was, the Brazilians there picked that night to stay up til 2:30 hollering and partying as loud as they could be, and the room I ended up in didn't have a/c so we coudln't shut the windows. I'd hoped to get one of the back rooms with air conditioning; a guy from Vancouver named Sasha started talking to me and said they had an extra bed. A couple hours later I asked his cousin if I could stay there and he said he wasn't comfortable with it. My batteries in my cd player were dead and my fan had quit working (turns out it was just bad batteries, something a $7 investment would have taken care of.) Around 3am a loud engine roared, tires squealed and the noise abated... just in time for the snoring to kick in as I was sharing a room with four men. I got about 15 minutes of sleep when John came in and told us to get ready to go to the boat.

Which is why today I don't mind paying $65 for my own room. If I get someone to share it great, it will be cheaper. It's huge. Concrete and rock floor, oriental rugs, hand hewn wooden queen bed and full-sized bunk bed. Big ole shower with river rock and concrete. For a few hours I relished in the privacy of quiet air conditioning and a good firm bed.

Exhaustion

Sunday. Day 7. I haven't felt this exhausted from physical exertion in a very long time. Let it be known, this isn't really a vacation in the vactaiony sense of the word. Unless getting up at the crack of dawn every day to push your body to its limits seems restful. If it does, you are a navy seal and you have my utmost respect.

Last night I wanted to write more but Anna turned out the light, which I figure is fine because my laptop is illuminated and the keys are all backlit. But not a second had passed when a nasty ugly flying bug was drawn to the light of my monitor! Not wanting a bug in my computer I brushed it away, closed it and slept very, very hard.

Having a few issues with the group dynamics here. Sometimes I feel like I have to really look out for myself; people just aren't all that helpful except the paid help - they've been my saving factor this entire trip. Today there was a bit of confusion because one van was going back to the house, another was staying for lunch and then surfing. I mentioned to someone, I thought, that I wanted to stay. I'd been in the other van to run to the pharmacy to get some synthroid because I forgot mine. Been taking the same stuff for a couple years every single day and I forgot it. It wasn't too much - $11, but I had to buy 75 pills. I only needed nine. Oh well, so much for eating out today (my budget is about $10/day). I did manage to buy a frozen coconut bar, my fav. They're only $0.40 here and really good quality. After I move my stuff I'm looking around for everyone and they've sort of disappeared into the fray. It's a narrow dirt street with shops and restaurants on both sides leading to the beach, with restaurants lining the beach as well. I looked at all the places we'd been earlier that day to get ready for and to host the free surf contest for the local kids, but no groupo. I went back to the van and found Julio nearby and he said they were in the internet cafe. I looked there and no group. I went back, and Julio found them in another restaurant upstairs. I said, Just once I'd like to know where everyone is going! They said they thought I was going back to the house in the other van.

I ordered a Limonade which tasted and had the texture of a virgin margarita. Not bad for $1. I had enough change left over just for that.

After lunch those of us who wanted to surf went to a spot I really cannot name because it's kind of a secret. Access is limited; we know a hotel owner who lets us use his access. It takes me awhile to gear up because I cover myself head to toe in lycra. The only thing getting tanned on this trip are my hands. And yes it looks funny. But not any funnier than the long scars on my legs and shoulders from having bits of skin cancer removed. So by the time I got to the beach everyone was in the water, only I could not see them. I saw two guys out at a beach break and thought maybe that was them, to the south of me. I followed fresh footprints and jumped in what looked like a channel, only to get completely pummeled by the waves hitting a sandbar. I took a wave in.

Then two other bodyboarders started to head out and I started out further south and made it to the outside. But the guys surfing out there weren't from our crew. I looked north towards the point and sure enough, barely made out a few heads bobbing in the water. I decided to paddle over rather than fight that sandbar again, although it probably would have been faster to walk.

The waves were really nice I thought, still heading the wrong direction for me, but it was easy to get back out and only a few thrashed me. Sean, our representative from the world of professional surfing, hopped me on one wave and said he didn't see me. I said sometimes it seems like I'm not going to make the wave but usually I do. He let me have another one that he could have easily taken. It was a really good wave. I thanked him for it.

I didn't surf this morning because I figured I needed a day off, or at least a morning off. I slept pretty well last night in spite of a painfully stiff neck and an arm that feels like it's going to drop off my shoulder any minute. I missed the van going to the beach and walked down an hour later. Chad was still sick and really bumming about it.

The surf contest seemed to go pretty well although it was a bit of a late start. They had it where no one was surfing or swimming; mostly really big close-out waves. Some of the smaller ones were more surfable. I listened as Sean spoke to Erika about surfing in competitions as he's a full time coach now. He was on the pro tour and was top ten. He's on the cover of SURFER June 1993. I think I remember it, oddly enough. Said it was really freaky the way it happened. They were out at the power plant near Rosarito, which I've never gotten all that great. He said it was junky but they'd come all that way so why not just go out and get a few. Then the wind turned, the clouds parted, the swell picked up... and the photographer got some great shots not only for the cover but an inside spread as well.

In spite of all the exposure and success on the tour, money started dropping out around then as it did for a lot of things. Not able to keep up their commitments his sponsors were shorting him and he had a wife and two kids. He was offered a job managing a retail surfing store and took it. I believe recently he was laid off from that, but does surf coaching full time.

Another time I came in from a very long session and was really cotton-mouthed and dehydrated. There were three unopened bottles of water, dripping with that ice sweat, and a few opened ones at the table of the people from our group who didn't surf that morning. I asked if I could just have a sip, and they told me I could get some in the restaurant. Of course to do that I'd have to go to the van and find money etc. it just looked so inviting and quenching and later I thought to myself, if one of my friends came in from the ocean and wanted a sip of my water, I'd give it to them. Even if there was plenty around the corner in the restaurant window. I'm missing the riverboarding crowd.

Tomorrow at some as yet unappointed time, we head south to Las Flores. John has budgeted for us to sleep in hammocks. Obviously I won't be bringing my computer if we have no security besides the van and probably no electricity. Someone else who had gone there on the weekend said the beach lodgings were completely booked. I'm kind of hoping that there aren't enough hammock spaces and we might have to get rooms of some kind. We haven't been briefed on what we should bring or what to expect; all I know is we're supposed to do two boat trips and there are surf breaks in the area for those who don't go on the off day. We're going to stay two nights. I'm not sure if we're supposed to go surfing in the morning or not. These days I just take it as it comes, and sometimes as it doesn't.

El Zonte

Saturday. Awoke in the fuzzy state of not knowing the time, and unable to comprehend my roommate's answer. The watch has glow in the dark dots on its hour and minute analog pointers, but without my reading glasses they don't tell me much. Within 15 minutes I was ready to go, and four of us plus Julio headed north. El Zonte looked a bit worse than yesterday, so we continued to K-59. We weren't quite sure how to get there, but after spying it from the highway above, we knew that was the spot we wanted to get to. After a u-turn and a phone call, we headed down a dirt road that could have passed for a driveway, went about 100 yards and stopped at a locked gate.

The walk from there was short but unpaved, partially paved with broken pieces of rock and brick, not the best conditions for leaving everything in the van including shoes. I ended up putting my fins on when I got to the gravel section. There were already a dozen people in the water at 6:30 am at the point. I watched a couple lefts roll in the inside and thought I'd try for those. As I was paddling out a large set came through and I was getting a bit worked, so I pushed outward. Then the current got me and I was almost at the peak. Mike said I should move over and just take the rights. "But I like lefts." "you should get some of these before it gets too crowded." "But I like going left." "There's some really good waves over here." "But I told you, I like going left." There was no getting through.

Eventually I caught a couple, but the majority I was dropped in on and even Mike took off on me on one. One wave I shared, he seemed careful to avoid me but it was hard to enjoy the massive wave with the spray of the shoulder-hopper hitting me in the face. I kept up though, just to prove I wasn't intimidated.

After a couple hours the crowd thinned and I started catching more waves. One wave barrelled over me and I sort of pushed out the bottom and kept going. I positioned myself for another cover up but it was less forgiving and took me for an underwater spin.

Goggles and Ryan walked down the coast for some waves to themselves and got really good barrels. He said it was gnarly and there were a lot of rocks inside.

After returning to the van, which was parked along the highway, and waiting for Goggles and Ryan in a mosquito-heavy area, we came home, ate, and crashed hard. Chad was up but still sick, had been throwing up the last two nights. I took a nap on the top bunk in the boys room. The bed I have I just put the mattress on the floor because the box is realy just wooden slats with a few springs, and I could feel my body slipping down between the slats. This resulted in more neck and back pain. It's wrecking me. I slept fitfully but had some dreams, so I know I did sleep. In one dream we were back in LA and the trip was over and I didn't make the CD of my photos for John. Maybe it means I don't feel like I'm pulling my weight and I want to go home.

About 3:30 we headed out again to K-59. The tide was very low and the waves not nearly as good as earlier, but it was still fun. There was a sandbar that was making the paddle out a lot of work if you had the pleasure to be caught inside. More than once I had to take the whitewater back in to catch the outgoing current and not get thumped. After trying to duck the wave and getting completely held down and twisted underwater, I said to myself "I give up" and thought I'd let the next ball of whitewater take me in. Only instead of taking me in, it just took me, overran me and held me under for what seemed like too long. The next wave was a little nicer to me, and I made it closer to shore.

Yesterday after surfing El Zonte a little smaller than the day before, I went down to the surf shop and internet cafe in Trunco, and paid to use the internet for 1/2 hour. I wish we were closer to Punta Roca. The restaurant there has wireless. Maybe tomorrow I can get a ride there or take the bus.