The Family and Home of Gilmar and Maria (Pics)

I am home in Georgia, but I have a few things left to post from my trip. In my previous post I spoke about Gilmar and Maria, but I didn't have my camera with me when we were at their home last Monday morning for breakfast. Pics have now been exchanged between David/Amy and me, so here are some pics from that Monday morning.

Here we are walking down the path to their home, which sits maybe 100 yards from the bumpy little dirt road:


They live in the outskirts of Quetzaltenango, the main city beginning just beyond the first hill visible in the picture. The church meets (and nearly all its members live) in this same neighborhood.

Their house is made of mud brick, a floor of concrete, and roofed with a single layer of corrugated metal.


The only door leads into the kitchen, and the exhaust chimney from the wood burning stove is visible at upper right. There are no windows. The far wall of the kitchen (the only concrete block wall) can be seen (barely) through the doorway. At bottom right are a few ears of the black maize they've grown.

Amy learning to make tortillas:


Maria was cheerfully making these tortillas when we arrived, and she got Amy in on the action also. I'm not sure if Amy was thinking of how close her skirt was to the open wood burning area of the stove - you can see the glow of embers - but there wasn't any real danger there, as the fire was quite well contained within. The cooking surface is a large metal plate laid across the top of the otherwise concrete structure. The chimney is visible at far right. White paint has been applied to the inner sides of the mud brick walls of the house.

The kids' table:


Breakfast was black(?) beans, scrambled eggs, and the tortillas from the earlier picture. Their kids seemed accustomed to not having chairs to sit on when visitors were there, but of course Sophie and Katie seemed at a loss as to what to do. Maria noticed and brought some concrete blocks and laid towels over them, for some of the kids to sit on.

Their daughter and younger boy:


The loom:


Visible are Gilmar, David, and Gilmar's daughter. This loom is in a separate building next to another home (I believe the home of Gilmar's sister), perhaps 50 yards away, beyond another little field of maize. This structure is just large enough (maybe 10'x15') to contain the loom, and formerly served for a time as Gilmar and Maria's home.



I really enjoyed spending time with them, and with the other Christians there as well, and wished I could stay longer to see more of their faith, service, and teaching.
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(If for some reason you would like to see the comments left on the page where this was originally published, they are viewable here: http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/301709-the-family-and-home-of-gilmar-and-maria

Some Observations

My pictures in the previous posts have shown the nice things. But not everything is nice. In America, in the places where "we" live, everything is nice....as we expect them to be, and sometimes think we have a right for them to be. The Tapachula hotel, pictured in the previous entry, was really nice, so I showed lots of pics. The other hotels looked nice from the outside, but for the most part were marginal on the inside. Marginal, but satisfied our needs just fine. In the US, "we" would be upset with the conditions: abundant mildew inside one of the hotel room's shower, toilets that easily clogged, water that took 15 minutes to get hot. "We" tend to think that we should never be expected to endure such indignities.

And yet these flawed hotel rooms are so very far above the living conditions of so many people the world over.

I haven't made many pictures of the very small concrete block homes that some live in, here in Guatemala, and in Mexico. By small, I mean smaller than a 1 car garage. I really don't suppose those homes have indoor toilet facilities. Sure there are wealthy people here, with larger nicer homes than mine, but so many do not live that way.



While we were waiting in the parking lot at the Guatemala border, I saw a very small Guatemalan man (they're all small here). He looked to be in his 60's, but that may have been just the difficulty of his years showing on his face. Deep wrinkles; worn, hard skin. A body that would have preferred easier work at this stage of life. I may have previously mentioned the tropical heat at the border area...we were VERY uncomfortably hot, sweating heavily, just standing around. He, on the other hand, was pulling a hand truck, loaded with three untypically large sewing machines, through large gravel. They may have been his, or they may have belonged to somebody else, and this is his job, to tote things around in the customs area. The hand truck was leaning against his back, he leaning hard forward to bear the weight, with his hands gripping the sides behind him. The parking lot through which he pulled the hand truck was gravel, and the weight of his load dug into the gravel, making it harder to pull. At one point, the right-side wheel got jammed, refusing to rotate, and then dug harder into the gravel. This is a day in his life.



This morning we were invited to eat breakfast in the home of Gilmar and Maria, and their three children, one of the families in the church here. Their house, and those nearby, are situated among small fields of maize and other crops. Very nice family, with very well behaved children -- much better than most in the States I might add. And I very much enjoyed being in their home.

But consider: Most of the walls were mud brick with some straw mixed in, another wall was actually concrete block (houses of some of the other brethren are all concrete block, some plastered inside). Gilmar and Maria had painted the inner sides of the mud brick walls white. Concrete floor, painted if I remember correctly. The door was a few rough pieces of wood (more or less similar size as 2x4's) to form a frame, and a sheet of corrugated metal nailed to it. Three rooms. That door led into the first room, the kitchen, maybe 8' by 12'. At one end was a large concrete block stove, built in place, with a thick metal surface across the top. At one end was an opening, through which the burning wood could be seen. Maria was cheerfully making tortillas and placing them on the cooking surface as we came in. She taught Amy how to do it also. On to the second room: it was divided in the middle by a tall, wooden wardrobe, the kind that sells for big money in our antique stores, when they're in good condition (this one wouldn't make the cut); and by another similarly sized piece of furniture next to it. On the near side of this divider a simple table was set, with plastic chairs around it, the kind we might use outdoors. The children sat at a low table next to this one, and our hostess brought in concrete blocks for them to sit on (an accomodation that wasn't normal procedure), covering each block with a towel first. Behind the furniture, the other half of the room held a couple of beds, one much larger, one smaller. I never saw more than a glimpse into the third room. Outside was a small shack which I suppose was the outhouse. For laundry, Maria and the daughter use a washboard.

The roof was a single layer of corrugated metal, gabled, but the walls didn't make exact seals with the roof. Gaps remained in places, but the high-altitude climate here is somewhat constant year 'round, 70's or up to 80 in the day, though into the 40's and 30's at night. In one place in each room, a section of the corrugated metal ceiling/roof had been cut out and replaced with translucent corrugated plastic, to allow light in during the day. There were a few bare light bulbs to light the home at night. I noticed a few small holes in the metal roof, through which rainwater would easily drip.

They provided us with a fine breakfast of scrambled eggs and black beans, with fresh tortillas, and a very weak coffee (looked more like tea, perfect for me as I normally detest coffee), somewhat sweetened. We very much enjoyed it all, and had very enjoyable conversation.

Gilmar, the 30ish husband and father, walked us afterward to a similar, but considerably smaller structure, which used to be their home, and where he now has his loom with which he makes the fabric for the traditional dresses of the women here. Amazing process with all the multicolored threads.

Gilmar, and some of the girls with skirts of the same kind of fabric which he weaves:


He's an intelligent guy, and said he could have done office work, but chose weaving because it allows him more time with his family, and more time to be able to go and help other churches. Mind you, he's not “the preacher” here; they don't have a “the preacher.” He's just a Christian that's spiritually minded rather than earthly minded. After breakfast and showing us around, he went with us to town. When I stopped in a little store to buy a refrigerator magnet for someone back home who requested such, Gilmar also made a purchase: three postcards of nice scenes in Guatemala. As we left the store, he gave them to me as a gift.



When "we" hear of such living conditions as this family has, our immediate reaction is that we have to help them live better. We should send them things. They should have a higher standard of living, because no one should live like that.

You know what? They're living just fine. They're happy people. He provides a living, they're raising good children, he taught a lesson in the Sunday class period. Don't we say that such things are the things that matter?

I'll recommend a reaction. Don't sacrifice time with your children to make more money for more things (with the excuse, “it's for the children”). Don't sacrifice time for study, meditation, teaching your neighbor, and meeting regularly with the saints, to work for more money and things. Don't be bothered, if you don't have the things "we" think everybody ought to have. Be willing to take a lesser job, if its hours or location allow you to be a better, more fruitful servant of Christ. Don't make all your decisions with a standard of living in view. And if you're able to help the cause of Christ in other lands, then be willing to give up what really are our luxuries of royalty, to serve the One who truly is royal.

It's not these people here who need changes in their lives. It's us.

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(If for some reason you would like to see the comments left on the page where this was originally published, that page is viewable here:
http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/300342-some-observations?page=2

Catching Up

We have arrived sooner than expected, since the plan to stop and visit the Reaves family in southern Mexico was scuttled. That being the case, I could have scheduled my return flight a bit sooner, but since my flights are non-refundable, I'm glad to have a few extra few days to be here. :)

Adventure While Entering Tapachula

Deservedly or not (I don't know enough to know), the southernmost Mexican state of Chiapas is known for some degree of lawlessness. Just before crossing into Chiapas, we saw a few military checkpoints, guys in uniform with machine guns atop military Hummers, that kind of thing. But we crossed into Chiapas and went through most of it without anything troublesome, finally arriving in Tapachula maybe 45 minutes after dark, just short of the Guatemalan border.

As this late model Honda Pilot and nice new trailer entered the outskirts of town, a band of about 7 men jumped out in the road, motioning us to the side, next to some buildings I never could quite identify. David pulled the car over and stopped, and lowered the window just enough for conversation. Although I understood very little at the moment, they were telling David that they wanted to help us, and that they work for the government. They were not in uniform, but did have similar shirts, though I don't think they were identical. I saw them displaying what they claimed to be official credentials, laminated and hanging from a lanyard on one of the men; at the same time, they were saying that we can trust them because they have these credentials -- and the laminated credentials did appear to be official. They asked whether we were going to Guatemala, and when David confirmed that we were, one of them said, “I'm Guatemalan too, you can trust me.” By this time, one of them had taken up a position standing directly in front of the car.

I told David to fill me in on what they were saying. He started to talk to me, but was immediately interrupted by the guys outside, so David raised the window completely and told me about their badges and their claims to help us. He then spoke with them some more, and they asked to see the transit papers for David's car, given to us at the northern border, to take it through Mexico. I emphatically told David not to hand it out the window, but only to let them see it through the glass. David showed it, and asked them why they need it. They offered a lot of explanation, but David only understood some of it, and even that didn't make sense to him. David raised the window and filled me in again, and asked my thoughts about it. My counsel to him was, “I´d put it in gear, and hit the gas.” David put it in gear, and as he hit the gas, he said through the window “Goodbye!” I liked that little touch. We heard several of them hitting/slapping the car and trailer as we pulled quickly away, and then checked to see if anyone followed us. For a while that evening, that event colored our whole perception about the town we were entering, and where we needed to find a place to sleep and store the car and trailer. It was a dismal looking town as we searched for the city center, but finally getting there, things began looking up, and then in the gridlock Fiesta/celebration traffic, as I got out to run ahead to inquire at a hotel half a block up, interacting with the locals, I began to feel more at ease. The hotel had no vacancies, so David got out and checked another -- it turned out to be where we stayed. Good hotel, secure parking, and we all felt better, and got out and enjoyed walking through the crowded town square (see pics in earlier entry).

Pics of the hotel in Tapachula, the first three leading successively in further toward our room:






Crossing the Border From Mexico Into Guatemala

When we first entered Mexico, it was with the understanding that there would be a careful checking of us on the way out at the southern border. And then there was the “tax” when we discovered that our documents were incorrect, and who knew what troubles that might lead to at the southern border? David made a couple calls as we neared the border region, and we were told to stop just before the border at a government office, “Viva Mexico,” where some things might be put in order for the crossing.

Well, we never saw Viva Mexico, and suddenly there we were at the border. There was a long, I mean long, line of cars (parked really, drivers not even present in many cases) in the Transmigrante line, which we had been incorrectly labeled as; we bypassed that lane and went on in our unoccupied lane. Guys began running up to the car, then alongside the car, offering their services and telling us to stop, showing (of all things) credentials hanging from lanyards. We ignored some of them and told others a firmly blunt “No.” We spotted a guy in uniform, and he told us to proceed, kind of shooing away the running guys.

Then we crossed a small bridge over a mountain stream (in which Guatemalan women were washing clothes) suggesting we were no longer in Mexico. Sure enough, there was the Guatemalan border control just ahead. Well, any concern for what the Mexican government might demand of us (more “taxes”?) quickly dissipated. By this time another group of guys had locked in on us, guiding us up to the obvious stop point for the Guatemalan side. And all of this amidst a kind of festival or state fair kind of atmosphere that I've never seen at any border anywhere. People walking in every direction -- I'm quite confident a person could simply walk through this border without ever being questioned at all; we walked around with complete freedom, and never saw any uniformed men stopping anyone. With a car, you might get stopped, but I have my doubts (at least in the direction from Mex. to Guat.).

As we came to a stop, these guys wanted to take charge of David's affairs, and David had to actually seek out the official guy there on the scene. Turns out David already knew about the young guys who assist travelers by taking them through the whole process, in expectation of a tip, but neither Amy nor I did. Anyway, we were told to back up about 30 feet, and enter a parking area back behind the buildings, and then walk back across to the Mexican side to get our passports stamped -- this was in a building off to the side. That done, there were a few other affairs on the Guatemalan side (passport control, changing money, making a list for customs of all the electronics we had, etc.). The guys that led us in walked us through all of this, which really, we could have done by ourselves. Their high-fiving each other behind us, when it became clear we were going to use their assistance, was disconcerting for a moment, but nothing really threatening.

Also, the whole time there are people offering to polish shoes, attempting to wash the car (one guy, the same guy, started washing it at least three separate times, always being told “no”), and boys age 11/12 or so begging for money. Also in this no-man's land between checkpoints, or rather between the Guatemalan checkpoint and where a Mexican checkpoint might be expected, were street vendors with food, clothing, etc. for sale, permanent stalls for the same, and even (I think) a hotel and restaurant. It was just craziness. Amy summed it all up later, in one of the videos below. About halfway through all of this, David ran into three of the Christians who had come to the border to meet us: Jeronimo, Elder, and Farinez (questionable spelling on that last one, though I can say that the n would have the tilda thing over it). Elder in particular was truly helpful. Pictures of the guys leading us into the initial stop on the Guatemalan side:





And here's a couple videos I made as we made our way through the western Guatemalan highlands:

OKAY, VIDEOS WILL HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW -- THIS INTERNET CONNECTION AT THE HOTEL IS ENTIRELY TOO SLOW FOR THAT. I'LL GET TO AN INTERNET CAFE TOMORROW, SO CHECK BACK IN THIS SAME SPACE

This next video begins as a Spanish dissertation on coffee, to the best of my knowledge, but then includes a cool view and some coffee plants:

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(If for some reason you would like to see where this post was originally published, and the comments left there, it is viewable here:
http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/299976-catching-up

At Our Destination

We arrived in Quetzaltenango today. The drive from the border took considerably longer than the advertized two hours...we were guided in let´s say ´"not-shortcuts." Anyway, David has gained much experience in maneuvering the trailer in reverse.

We are all exhausted tonight from the week´s journey. The border crossing was like no other >I have ever seen (and I´ve seen my share of 3rd world border crsossings) and the adventure as we came into Tapachula, Chiapas, Mexico is yet to be told....but those will ahve to wait.

met some of the Christians tonight, looking forward to meeting with them tomorrow for their assembly.
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(If for some reason you would like to see where this post was originally published, and the comments left there, it is viewable here:
http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/299768-at-our-destination

Our Last (anticipated) Night in Mexico

After a little bit of adventure, we are safely in Tapachula tonight (a large border city in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas. Nice hotel, lobby is open to the street, rooms open to lushly planted central courtyard, open to the sky. The “Grand Fiesta” continues, and getting through the one-way streets of central Tapachula, to find a hotel, was quite a challenge. Some folks saw David's trailer-towing SUV go by 2, 3, maybe 4 times: Lost Gringos. We joked that it almost sounds like a Mexican town.

From near the Gulf, we drove across to the Pacific today. In fact we took a 10 mile side road to go out to the Pacific coast, where we saw the very unpacific waves roll in, where especially Sophie enjoyed running around dodging the incoming water, and where she and Katie then promptly ran into each other, both falling in the sand just as the water was receding from it. Sand, water, and tears were everywhere. I have a couple video clips, but the connection speed here is way too slow for me to stay up longer and post them!



Came on into Tapachula after dark, arriving in the center after some little delay on the outskirts, and found the center packed with the fiesta. After the others settling in, and me locating my misplaced passport (I had unconsciously put it in the place I used to store it when traveling), we took a walk around the square where the celebration is centered, got something to eat (very good again), and returned to the hotel. Couple of pics from the square...I can't believe I got pics without showing the crowds of people.



Tomorrow we hope to cross the border into Guatemala in mid to late morning, and then have about a 2 hours' drive to Quetzaltenango, and the end of David and Amy's move. Some of the saints from there plan to meet us at the border when we cross.
The Yellow dot on the map below represents the location of Quetzaltenango, David and Amy's new home.

Safely (but with some adventure) in Tapachula Tonight

Tapachula is only some 15-20 miles from the Guatemalan border, which we hope to cross in the morning, and then just two hours to David and Amy's new hometown of Quetzaltenango. I hope to make another new entry later this evening about today's travel.

Today's fun: Not the Driving, But the Stopping

That's a place we unfortunately did not get to see (ripped the pic from the internet). Leaving Poza Rica, we intended to stop at these remarkable ruins some 10(?) miles to the south, El Tajin. Got to the side road leading to it, went maybe a mile on that road, and came to a place that was roped off. Turns out that road was under repair, impassable, and the only other approach meant going back into Poza Rica and taking another route. That's too long, so we continued on our route southward toward Guatemala. Oh well.

Vegetation continued to be lush and dense, and the landscape hilly/mountainous for the first half of the day.


Then the road came to parallel the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, and this is a view toward the interior:


For lunch we stopped at a seaside restaurant in this area known as Costa Esmeralda (the Emerald Coast). The restaurant was actually under repair, but their outside tables were still available. Great food, great scenery.




Clockwise starting with the plate with french fries, the entrees are beef, kinda chicken fried; shrimp, snail (a first for me, and really good - we all liked it); and langostina, a smaller version of lobster.Maybe you can see the Gulf in the background.

Tonight we are in Acayucan. From this point, we will head across from the Gulf side to the Pacific side, and then continue toward Guatemala. We are fortunate to be Acayucan during a “grand fiesta,” lots of people in the streets in the center of town where our hotel is, and lots of open markets. We got a very good price on this quite nice hotel --Hotel Plaza-- with very friendly staff. Although the attached restaurant looked fantastic and good prices, we decided to eat elsewhere, more casually. After wandering the streets for a bit, and with lots of locals interested in us and especially in Sophie, Katie, and Emma, we found the Los Tucanes restaurant (The Toucan), kind of a simple cafe/diner atmosphere. I had, well I don't really


know, but when a waiter is especially friendly, I generally trust them to choose something for me. I knew it would be fish, but nothing more. It turned out to be a quite large serving of baked(?) fish smothered in tomato, pepper, onion, a few green olives and chunks of garlic, with other unknown bits and spices, somewhat spicy hot. It was the best meal of the trip so far. :)

Walking around for a bit I found the locals to be very friendly even without having the 3 little blondes with me. Couple of gentlemen talked with me for a bit, one is Pablo, speaks almost no English, the other is (I don't recall), and told me he is half Mexican, half Italian. The hotel here does not have wireless, but one of the older guys at the desk, who couldn't explain to me how to find the nearest internet cafe (little English, and I have no Spanish), walked me there. He's the one that explained the ongoing fiesta....and also that he is actually Spanish, while his wife is Mexican. I really do enjoy dealing with foreigners. Partly because the language difficulties never fail to make for pleasant/comical conversation, but also because each party is more interested in the other than in typical same-culture conversations. A few pics from town, including lastly our hotel.



All are well. In red, here's the travel today:

Slow Going

We left Ciudad Victoria this morning, and crossed the Tropic of Cancer in our first hour on the road. Sadly, there's no marker, so we couldn't know exactly where it was, nor take any pics at it. As the day progressed though, we did notice the vegetation getting a lot more full, dense, and lush.

In Tampico/Madera, we stopped at the car insurance office, as doubts had arisen whether anyone but David was covered by the insurance procured at the border. They checked things out and said we were all good. Also stopped at a bank there and changed money. But those two things, plus a little nursing time, took 2 hours out of the day.

And today, all the warnings of my Mexican friends about slow travel in Mexico came true! (our rate of travel has slowed down considerably) First there are the speed bumps. When you come into town, speed bumps slow you to nearly a stop. When there's a random place for people to cross the highway in town, speed bumps. And then there were places, not in town, where I didn't really see any reason for them, but nevertheless, speed bumps. But the speed bumps have their fun side, too. First, the reader must understand passing in Mexico. If you have someone coming up behind you wanting to pass, you slide over part way -or all the way- on the wide shoulder, to let him go by. IF oncoming traffic is paying attention (and they do), they slide over also, leaving plenty of room for the passing car (I like this system a lot, similar to European driving as well. I wish Americans could learn it). So, there's already an understanding that lanes are not absolute. But then out in the countryside, when there's a solid line of traffic, everybody trying to pass each other, and you come upon some little wide spot in the road with a business or two, and speed bumps appear, it becomes a free-for-all. With no oncoming traffic, our one lane spread into 3 or 4 lanes approaching the speed bumps, everybody trying to use them as a tool to get ahead of everybody else! Accelerating away from the speed bumps, cars go whizzing past on either side (this is a two lane highway). Craziness. And pretty comical.

Then the potholes. Long sections of the road today were as much pothole as they were highway. David was driving when we were on the worst of these sections, and was all over both lanes of the highway, as was everybody else, dodging holes and finding less rough surfaces.


Tonight we are in Poza Rica. Amy just mentioned that there doesn't seem to be any hot water in our bathroom. I talked to the guy at the desk and he says that it is a problem common to all the rooms, but hot water will arrive if we let it run for 10-15 minutes. Good enough, seeing as the hotel rate tonight is about half of what it was last night.

Hopefully tomorrow will bring a better rate of travel than we had today.

The Roads in Mexico from Darryl Smelser on Vimeo.

This is a mountain that caught my eye...looks volcanic to me.


And here's the updated road map, today's travel in green:

Into Mexico!

Everything's going reasonably well. :)

David and Amy met me at the Houston Airport on Monday, about noon. After picking up my bag I headed for the exit, calling David on the cell phone to see where they were in lapping the terminal, in their Honda Pilot...I caught myself and did NOT ask him (in the midst of numerous airport people) "Hey, what color is your Pilot?" Still in the Houston area, we stopped at a Honda dealer to check out some remaining symptoms of the previous wreck and imperfect body repair. Very good folks at the dealer identified some possibilities, and said that we were quite safe to travel all the way to Guatemala, and then have the remaining repairs done there.

Sophie and Katie while we were waiting at the dealership:


We made it to Pharr Texas (next to McAllen) and the home of Warren Berkley for the night. Very hospitable, helpful people. Took care of various border crossing errands this morning, then went to the border not knowing if we would make it across today at all. All seemed to go quickly and smoothly, and we left the border area at about 3 pm. At a later checkpoint, some 30 miles (?) into Mexico, we discovered that the border folks had incorrectly marked our papers, indicating "transmigrantes" status instead of "Tourist"
status, but had not done other things necessary for "transmigrants". The cop at this checkpoint indicated that this is a problem. After much discussion he said if David paid a "tax," that we could go on even though our papers weren't quite right. Paid up, traveled on.

About 7 pm, an hour after dark, we reached the city of Ciudad Victoria (I think that's redundant), and we have a room at the Paradise Inn, and had supper in the attached restaurant, El Eden. Wireless in the Lobby!

Approaching sunset, a ways north of Ciudad Victoria:


My supper in the restaurant was Enchilades con Carne - very good!


Finally the map of our travel today:

South of the Border

One week from today, I drive to Atlanta, fly to Houston, and, well, here’s the rest…


My niece Amy and nephew (“nephew-in-law”?) David, with their three little blondes age 4 and under, are moving to Guatemala to teach the gospel there. They’re driving down next week, and for whatever assistance I may be, I’m riding down with them and then flying home. I’m happy to offer whatever assistance that might be, but also I have to say that I really look forward to the trip. For years I’ve thought it would be really cool to drive all the way to South America, and while this is not that, it’s at least part of it. Of course in my previous imaginings, there weren’t three little girls trapped in a car for a week…that should be fun, but yes, I’m taking my iPod. :)

David and Amy will pick me up Monday Nov. 5 in Houston, we’ll drive to the Mexican border, and hope to cross the border on Tuesday. Then it will take however long it will take (who knows?) to get to the Mexican/Guatemalan border and cross it. Then a relatively short drive to the 2nd largest city of Guatemala where they’ll be living: Quetzaltenango. If our travels go well, I should have a couple days there, before traveling to the capital city – Guatemala City – spend half a day there, and then fly out on Thursday Nov. 15, headed back home. Looks like I may get to see Cuba from the plane on the way home. Cool.

I’m planning to take my laptop with me, and I’ll try to update with pics here on pleo along the way.

Oh...and for any of you east coasters who saw my headline at the top, and were expecting a great article on that famous neon center of culture, entertainment, and puns just South Of The NC/SC Border, I'm so sorry to have disappointed. ;)