Roatan: Numero Dos

As of lunchtime today Sarah and I are both PADI (Professional Association of Diving Instructors) certified divers. We have completed four dives and a couple hours of bad instructional videos and now can dive unsupervised to 60 feet (actually don't tell PADI but we accidentally dipped to 68 feet when we were checking out a shipwreck). The more we dive with PADI the more certifications we earn and beyond recreational diving there are opportunities to be a rescue diver or diving instructor. So far we are just thinking about the enjoyment of it and Roatan has been perfect for that. Every time we surface from a dive we are babbling like fools, talking about all the things that you can't communicate underwater. The "okay" hand signal and wide eyes behind a scuba mask is about all you can do to get across your excitement while diving. The reef here is lovely and healthy, the water is as clear as I've seen and the aquatic life is abundant. We've seen turtles having lunch, puffer fish, huge groupers and snappers as interested in us as we are in them, and thousands upon thousands of tropical fish of varying sizes all doing their thing. The PADI course is very well designed, by our final dive I felt totally comfortable and natural with our scuba equipment. At first I felt very alien-like, in and out of the water. A full wetsuit, BCD vest, various hoses and valves, a heavy air tank, giant flippers and scuba mask make for awkward movement and a feeling of being removed from the environment. Once you get under the water most of the awkward feeling leaves you but the alien sensation takes over as you are traveling in an environment that all reason tells you you shouldn't be surviving in. Once the nervousness leaves you diving is a real treat. Being able to move in three dimensions is constantly a thrill for me and the graceful, easy movement underwater is great. For our last dive our instructor took us to a little sand patch and we took off our fins and enjoyed a little under water kung-fu. How often can you leap up and do two consecutive backflips? Unfortunately a full tank only lasts so long (even less time if you are doing strenuous things like flying dragon kicks) and once you surface reality sets in with 40 lbs of equipment and all the saliva and mucus you missed out on underwater. Now that we've got our PADI diploma we're going to get our fill of the sea and head back to the mainland. Our travel fund and traveling energy are starting to run low and we are thinking about heading home (wherever that is) soon. We are definitely on the downhill side of the trip and are slowly forming a return plan in our minds. Our original plan was to head north to Belize and spend a bit of time in San Cristobal de las Casas in Mexico. Cancun and the cheap spring break flights are a quick bus ride from there. It would be nice to hop over to Cuba if we have the time and money to do it justice. We've many option but no real deciding factors at the moment. We've been sending out the e-mails to see if anybody wants to take an end of winter vacation and meet up to escort us back to the states. If anybody out there has been thinking, "Gosh, I want to get my name on DailyDirkandSarah." now's your chance. Drop us a line and we'll keep a beach chair free for you 'til you arrive.
-Dirk

Funniest Sight of the Week

Big news....we've got new hair. Well, sort of. The fact is, Dirk has no hair at all and I have got myself a decent head of dreds after much daily work and a lot of help from other hands. We've somehow held off on breaking the news for about three weeks, but it was worth the wait because it takes dreds a while to look good, and not like frizzy nest on my head. Even though you might think having all your hair knotted into little ropes would be easy to take care of, I spend at least an hour a day counter-intuitively back-combing and knotting my hair. It's way more time than I ever spent untangling my normal old hair. The result of all that knotting is that my hair is about half the length it was and much much wider. Wheee! Dirk, on the other hand, has nothing to with his hair at all in between the days he shaves it. Completely bare, bald, no hair, and slowly acquiring a tan. The skin was very, very white the first day he shaved it - so much so that if you looked at his head and squinted your eyes it almost looked like he had white hair... but the caribbean sun has been good to the color, and now I get the "hey rasta" and he gets the, "military, or just short hair?" You can find more pictures of the new styles under the sketch book link to the right.
-Sarah

Roatan Parte Uno

So far, Roatan has been treating us very well. We arrived and took the first room we found, which turned out to be our favorite place even after we looked at many more places in the town of West End. West End is curved around two little beautiful blue bays with one sand road that all the dive shops and restaurants and bars line. It's more expensive than anywhere else we've been in Guatemala or Honduras, but it's got the cheapest diving certification in the world, so here we are. Diving starts tomorrow morning at 8 AM. We took a walk our first day here, and plopped down on a dock to hang out (all the piers are public property) where who pulled up but a parasailing boat. We got to talking with the guy who was driving and he offered to take us down to West Bay Beach the next day, supposedly the best beach in Honduras, if you trust the Lonely Planet (which I only do with a grain of salt these days). We were cooking breakfast the next morning and talking with the other two girls who were also cooking, and came to find out that they too were going to meet Ken and get a ride to the beach with him. We all walked down to his pier together and met Ken himself half way there, looking for his deckhand who had apparently slept in. He gave us all one appraising look and decided the four of us would do the job. It was about then that I realized he was going to fly all of us with his equipment for free! He gave Dirk a training on how to run the parachute, from unpacking it, gathering the lines up, inflating it, and hooking the person in, then unhooking them after the ride. Our two new friends went up first while Dirk deck-handed and I watched, still not quite believing that I was actually going to fly myself. Ken lazily drove the boat, letting the wind do all the work in flying Amelia and then Hannah, occasionally shifting course to keep under them, smoking a cigarette to time each flight and chatting with us about life. And then it really was our turn! Dirk and I flew together, me hooked in front of him, the harnesses like swings under us, and suddenly, the wind catches us, and the ocean soars farther and farther away, and then we're looking out over the island from way, way high, with the wind ripping and catching at us, driving us up and down until the winch on the boat started cranking us in. Wow. I couldn't stop saying Wheeeee! until my feet hit the deck, and honestly, everything we've done since then has paled a bit in comparison. I forgot to mention that it was the most fabulously beautiful day we've had in weeks, with the ocean that incredible blue and the sky matching. We spent the rest of the day lounging on the beach until we got a ride home at four on the parasail boat. The next day we met up with four people who were going out to the old pirate hiding spots in the mangroves on the east side of the island. They invited us along because Dirk helped fix the lead guy (David's) car as it drove by us dragging a plastic wheel-well insert. We went all the way to the far end of the island and rented a low long boat (plus driver) to take us out for half an hour through the winding tunnels and bays formed by the mangroves. It was a little weird because I felt like we were intruding on a previously planned trip (which we were actually) but I'm also never one to turn down some free travel and we never would have seen that end of the island otherwise. Tomorrow we start our open water dive certification, and I'm sure that will bring new and exciting tales!
-Sarah

Onward to Honduras

Sarah and I have crossed over into Honduras after using up almost all of our 3 month visa in Guatemala. We've been given another 90 days to explore Honduras but so far it looks like we won't need all that time. Our first few days here have been kind of a shock... a very dramatic difference from just over the border in Guatemala. In Mexico and Guatemala it is expected to give a polite greeting to people you interact with or pass on the street. Coming from New York it took a while to adjust and make a quick "Buenos Dias" part of the routine but now it is second nature. Here in Honduras if you nod and smile at people as you walk by you are more often than not given a blank stare in return. The younger kids and the older folks still will shoot back a hello but I've found the reluctance to speak on most peoples parts very disconcerting. Honduras also has none of the indigenous charm that flavored so much of Guatemala. It seems that lacking any old culture or traditions Honduras has adopted U.S. culture and ideals. After Livingston we have meandered along the Caribbean coast of Honduras, stopping in a few towns before we head off to the diving haven of the Bay Islands. Our ferry to the islands was cancelled so we were ended up taking up lodgings in a hotel... across from a mall. Just like in the U.S. the mall has sucked all the life from the surrounding area and all the services or goods you would need are housed in the one building. There aren't many stores we know from the states but many are named things like; "USA Best Brand," or "American Style," or, my favorite, "Carrion." All of the favorite fast food chains were there including Burger King, Wendy's, Popeye's, KFC and Pizza Hut. All in all it was a pretty nightmare experience... I wanted to stop the Hondurans shopping and apologize. "I am sorry for globalization. I am sorry for conspicuous consumption. Please forgive me for Ronald McDonald and his mangy group of friends!" Oh well. Soon we will ship out and have some lovely island time. Roatan and diving the second largest reef in the world should soothe my neon sign burned eyes and warm my air conditioning chilled skin. -Dirk

ahh... The Caribbean

After about 2 months away from the ocean we´ve made our way back to the big blue. We arrived in Livingston via Rio Dulce and Lago Izabal, only stopping in Rio Dulce long enough to rest our legs and relax under a hot spring fed waterfall. Under the rock formation left by the hot springs is an incredible natural sauna. It was perfect for soothing the Peten tired muscles. Not that life has been demanding since then, we toured the rio Dulce and landed in Livingston and here we sit, two weeks later, still passing the time. Livingston is on the Caribbean coast, only accessible by boat so the only vehicles are the few taxis and delivery trucks that have business around the town. There are no roads in or out. The culture is a great mix of Guatemalan, Garifuna and whatever foreigners stray into town, mostly yachters and budget tourists. When arrived in town we took a room in a building with a gorgeous veranda, crooked and brightly painted and the perfect place to watch the traffic go by. Generally the traffic here is a smattering of cars and trucks, plenty of 150cc or less scooters and motorbikes, lots of bicycles and a full palate of darker than blue to piel canela (cinnamon skin) to I-just-shaved-my-head white pedestrians (plus one albino), all dodging and weaving in the barely two lane street. For the first week we partied in the stream of travelers that passed through our hotel, most people only staying in Livingston for an overnight bed. We met up with Sean and his dancing banjo on the second day and he was like a pied piper for drawing in the strays to sit and enjoy some old timey music in a scene that wouldn´t have been out of place in New Orleans (interesting note: Sean had played at Two Boots in Brooklyn about a year before I worked there). It`s hard to say what has kept us here in Livingston the second week. The people here are kind and even the hustlers are generally well meaning, the waitress at our daily breakfast spot now knows us and our orders and now that we have a room with a kitchen sharing dinners with new friends has been great. For the travelers with a limited amount of time Livingston can be a comfortable and interesting lay over but passing a little while here opens up a whole lovely and welcoming community that has help to recharge those tired traveling batteries. -Dirk