Distances and Borders

When traveling between countries it begins to take on a sameness.  Fill out the declaration form, pay a fee, answer a few questions, stand in line and wait.  When going by bus, the waiting is the longest, watching as all the passports and documents are processed wondering if you managed to correctly fill out the form in its miniscule printing, and occasional vague wording.

These steps could be made easier I assume, but it is now a familiar thing to do, and if they made the whole process easier those who came beore would complain about how the new travelers have it so much easier. ;)

But it is that last line that really resonates with me.  How much easier.

In the late 1800's an early 1900's travel had a definite glamour.  There was no real fast way, the easy way was by ship and if your destination was not near an ocean,   the infrastructure was not in place for easy transit.

People who did ravel did so for very strong reasons.  Immigrating to a new country, exploring to find wealth, escape from oppression or prosecution.  All very valid reasons to travel, but those who traveled for the sake of new horizons were few and far between.  The sheer relative cost, the length of time away, plus the void you were stepping off into.  We truly are in the information age.  I can find out what the local language is, currency and exchange, political stability, disease, good maps,  and the list goes on and on at the click of a mouse button.

I have had a few people say that they could not leap into a different culture and travel at whim like I am, but that is nothing to me when stacked up with how other, earlier travelers went about their trips.  Travelogues, diaries and such give us a picture of the places but also the perspectives of the person writing.  Your own cultural background, what you take for granted so colours how you write about the similarities and differences of those around you.  And all of those early writings are awash in the prejudices and bias of the writer.  I am blind to my own, for the most part, but at least I know that people from other places and times will have different views.  I think I need to read a few of the travel tales to really be able to put things into place.  I have not read any fully, just a few excerpts here and there, so I think that is going to be added to my reading list very soon.

Here in Central America I look at the steep jungle covered hills, and even in the dry season the frequent streams and rivers and think about how much different and slower the travel would be.  And even that only scratches the surface of the problems.  Money and the exchange of currencies are so much easier as well as access to international transfer of funds.  Whip out your bank card and get local cash, verses travelng with either a very large amount of valuables and cash or letters of credit which would take months if not years to set up.

Taking companions along with, strong of will to help you out of any difficulties, and a few sober ones to keep all from starting trouble.  The people you meet along the way real are the meat and bones of your experience and I always imagine that in the times when getting from place to place was so much harder that the 'local flavour' was very much more felt and experience than now.
Things we take for granted as travelers like inns, hotels and hostels etc. are not easy to find and pulling over to the side if you got tired was not an option.  Chances were if you liked your creature comforts they would be few and far between in most of Central America and packing a tent etc would be de riguer.  After a few weeks of backpacking with tent etc as a youth I can well remember the welcome hot shower found in civilization after the trek was over.  How then for the traveler, struggling through jungle and making their way on rough road for weeks on end to come upon a place to rest and relax, put up your weary bones, wash the clothes have a bath and not have to deal with taking down the camp yet again.

By putting myself in that place, stretching my mind to fill in the weariness and draining effort, but also seeing new vistas and animals and plants I begin to know the travelers whose footsteps I walk in and who give me pause at their determination to stretch their own horizons and all of those that they came in contact with, both on the road and when finally back at home.


In terms of how we humans get along, from country to country I think that the travel experience and how much easier it is, is a good thing.  The world as a whole is becoming more blended, with most borders being easier to cross, shrinking not the miles but the antagonistic differences between countries.  The next major step needs to be taken by the so called first world, and ending the economic exploitation of the third.  We in the first have a hunger for cheaper and cheaper goods, which is natural, but we need to force the corporations supplying those cheap goods into ensuring a decent living wage for the employees.

The above ramble brought to you by limited sleep and a long bus ride.

Religon and Fireworks

The great use of firecrackers and fireworks in conjunction with Christian religious services is so different from what I grew up with. 

It is hard to step back and accept what these people obviously see as a significant part of their worship.  The amount of firecrackers drowned out the sound of the church bells, and the fireworks were well done, seeming to draw attention to the celebration rather than detract from it.

But as I said, it was jarringly different from what I am used to.  The number of christmas lights and small electronic devices playing christmas carols made for an annoying background noise.  The use of icons and statuary has always been something that jars against the Anglican themes I was raised in.  Once the procession started, taking a statue of Mary for a slow journey round the centre of town, there was a constant barrage of noise from both fireworks and firecrackers.  The casual use of fireworks was also something quite different, with random people setting off fireworks in spaces barely large enough for safety.  Most times there were people within five meters of the steel tubes used for launching the larger ones.  The immediacy of this meant it added to the whole scene, tying the whole crowd into the experience of the visual display.  My western eyes found the whole thing to be gaudy and over done on the one hand, but on the other hand I could see both the sincerity of the participants and going by the size of the crowd it meant that a large slice of the town joined in.

I did not stay for the whole procession, choosing to slink away when it was less than half over, and I could hear the noise echoing off the walls behind me as I went down to the lake.  I have avoided religion for the most part on this trip of mine.  I long ago accepted that different people worship god in different ways and it is not something that I choose to do.

It is too easy to mock or look down on what others do as part of their belief, and disregard the emotions and sincerity of the worshipers, forgetting that their upbringing was so different from mine and their expressions and outward display of ceremony are thus far removed from what I experienced as part of my cultural norm.  It does enhance my travel and bring me farther along the road to understanding these people and how they contrast as well as mirror those who I grew up with.

Because it was night, and personally I find flashes to be intrusive, I dd not take any photos.  I may wander up to the church in the next day or two and take a few, just to round out this article.