...and I thought I knew

Photos: Mole the World

acrossourworld — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 04:32:00 GMT

''We want to spread idea of ´moling´ - using that symbol in some art, funny or original way. There is no ´higher´ or political meaning, its big international fun, anyone can use it in his unique way and share the results.' http://www.moletheworld.com/

Photos: San Cristobal Zapotitlan

acrossourworld — Thu, 3 May 2012 01:54:00 GMT

Near Chapala Lake

Photos: Cementerio de Mezquitán

acrossourworld — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 04:04:00 GMT

Since 1896, this cemetery is one of the oldest in Guadalajara, Mexico. Still in service. Is now sectioned into two, there's a street that goes right through the middle; so when you drive or walk through you are basically walking over dead people. They say the street is hunted.

About the payphones in Czech Republic

acrossourworld — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 01:11:00 GMT

So here's a tip about the payphones in Prague... do not use them.

Apparently it would only provoke laughs.

Or that's what happened when I happily went to a coin phone in the street trying to reach my new friends at their hostel: I read the instructions, dial and then put the coins. Fine. Number number, coin coin. Nothing. Coin coin. Still waiting. Maybe more coins. Call ended. Mmmm that can't be right. Well who gets it right the first time :D

So once again, number number, coin coin coin coin coin. Let's see how that works... call ended. Jesus I need help, the phone just rob me!

Luckily a police man was just walking by, so I ran to ask about the phones and how did they actually worked. That's when the laugh came. He said 'they don't work, they only swallow the coins. Everybody knows that'. Well I didn't... but thanks anyways.

'You should buy a Prepaid Calling Card'... yeah ok thanks officer.

I just got the bus to their hostel and avoid any further contact with phones. Seemed saver.

Anyways. You've been warned!

Remember summer of 2006?

acrossourworld — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 03:12:00 GMT

At first I didn’t want to believe what he said. “Really? A forest fire?” That was just beyond bad luck, it was a mythological curse! I looked outside the train, and into the barren station in Marburg…

The year was 2006, and the Football World Cup in Germany was just begging. I saved for 2 years and with a little more help from my loving father I went backpacking to 8 countries and for a tiny German course in Berlin. I was happy. I was excited. But then again things didn’t come as planned.

It had just been one week since my arrival in Europe and the girl I was traveling with had manage to made me cry, abandoned me in the middle of Koln and made me feel more miserable then Jean Valjean. Rather than traveling with a friend it felt like a test in human relations in which I was battling to keep a smile and to be open to the new experience. After all it was my journey and nothing would prevent me from living it all. I was tough and ready for anything. Right?

So after an ugly episode in Koln (in which I'll give you no more details but to finally finding that my so call friend wasn't at all), and where we witness Mexico losing against Portugal on the big screens, I made some new friends, we drank, we yielded and we all agreed to meet in Leipzig for Mexico-Argentina the next day. Mexico had lost but still manage to the next round. Next match was going to be legendary, at least for me.Wait, I know what you’re thinking… a football match? Mexico-Argentina? We always loose! Never had a victory against Argentina before or after! Didn't matter! I was finally having fun, and I was meeting a high school friend in Leipzig, Julian. I was winning after all! I was about to... “I’m sorry miss, I don’t think you are going to make it to the match.”

My eyes filled with tears and I head back to my empty sit in an empty car of an empty stopped train. It wasn’t just the match, I have never felt so lonely before in my life, I needed to go, but once again life had manage to send me otherwise... So I sat with my big Mexico hat and waited to depart back to Koln. My most waited holidays and I couldn't help but crying. How awful it is to face struggle alone... just give me a break Universe!

The guy to whom I spoke, who was presumably french; walked by in a hurry checking something, but stopped at my side and looked at me with a nearly smile, I could only answered with a weak one. Five minutes later the train began to move and I hug my legs.

The french guy then returned, with a chocolate Magnum ice cream...

He handed the chocolate and I stared at it and then at him, he smiled as if saying 'you are not alone'.

I felt the warm back into my chest and accepted the ice cream, indeed was one of the nicest gestures anyone has had at me.

I looked at him with tears still in my cheek but I wasn't crying anymore; he smiled again this time saying 'right then...' and left.

And with a blink everything changed.

How miserable did I look to make the guy sympathize me? I dunno, but it wasn't the first or last time that a stranger had gotten close to me... those tinny little details that get you going.

So I say, thank you to all those unplanned friends.

My Scholarship entry - A local encounter that changed my life

acrossourworld — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 12:32:00 GMT

“Di-ma” means thank you, “io” means sun, “cone” means rabbit and “iu” means woman. I learned this and a few more words in Chinanteco in 2001, when I went on my first Mission trip to the tiny community of Armadillo Chico in Oaxaca. I was 15 and the youngest of our team of three, but we actually came in a bus with 50 others, fully packed with our luggage and food aid; made 25 hours on the road and through the mountains, where we nearly fell off a cliff… so lesson learned: send the food in a different bus than where the people ride, big busses do not fit in the roads of Sierra Madre.
Anyway, in our little community of 20 families we started distributing the food and assembled them for talks and workshops by ages, naturally I got the kids, because all I needed to do was play. That’s how I learned about the golden armadillo that's supposed to be hidden in the mountain from Cortés.
As for Gabriel and Marisol, my experimented partners, they did all the important dialogues because I wasn’t ready to lead any discussions. Gabriel finally allowed me to talk to the adults about the kids, so one night about 10 elderly and a couple of younger parents came to the little roofless chapel. I began to talk. Ten minutes after, I ran out of ideas, so I just looked at them embarrassed… they looked back gently and nodded. And then it hit me. They had not understood a word I said. They didn’t speak Spanish. And yet they came to hear to what we had to say. I started putting the pieces together, is true the elders never spoke, they just smiled and cooked for us meatless chickens, and they thanked us with a “di-ma”. They talked to us through their face and actions, I was amazed. There I was speaking my best out, and they didn’t speak Spanish; yet I believe they understood what I was trying to say. There was no need of any more eloquence, we were all talking the same language... brotherhood.
I never told anyone, but from time to time I remember Armadillo Chico, and say a quit prayer for them.