Home!!!

We celebrated my Dad's 50th birthday and my homecoming on the same weekend.

As has been happening for the past few months, I let a long time pass between experiences and countries that I no longer wrote the same as I did at the beginning.

Well, lets see how far I can recap. I'll start with-

Now: Back Home

I am back home with my family in Moreno Valley (after some 20 odd years of living in La Puente, my parents moved to MV to live closer to my dad's work). I got to see the house before I left, but it still feels strange to be living out here. I landed back in LAX on July 2nd and it was such a trip to land in Los Angeles and literally fly over the house we used to live in (I saw it!). As the plane was landing I instantly thought of how nearly 10 months ago I was taking off from this same airport to Tokyo; I can remember almost every detail of that day (what I ate, who I sat next to on the plane, the song that was playing at the airport...) and of how anxious I felt! And before you know it, here I am, back home again. It all felt that it happened in a blink of an eye. Some memories of the trip are more distant than others, but overall it feels like it was all a dream. Perhaps this is because I felt I was already home when I got to my parent's hometown in Mexico...

Mexico: Family, Death and Friends

My experience in Mexico was far more intense than I could have imagined. I had moved my Guadalajara flight to an earlier date because I had received news that my grandmother was very ill and my mom was already there (it was her mom). It was so bittersweet to be reunited with her because although I had been really looking forward to seeing her again, I didn't want to see her under these circumstances. After a difficult, long week of hospital rotations and taking care of my grandmother with my mom and her family, she passed away. She had a sudden stroke which led to several other complications; she was not sick or had any major diseases, which made it much more difficult for the family to digest her sudden death. I was very glad to be alongside my mom during this time as well give her a bit of comic relief.


My mom ties a black bow outside my grandparent's house to represent a death in the family.

The days that followed her passing consisted of pueblo (small town) burial rituals and ceremonies which I had never witnessed. It was so strange (I'm not sure if I'm finding the right word to describe this feeling) to be so part of the experience as a family member and yet be an outsider at the same time. For example an aunt explained to me the significance of certain practices, such as placing a bowl of diced onions and vinegar underneath the casket. This is so all the bad spirits ("cancers") will be sort of sucked into the bowl. After the burial, the bowl is thrown away so that the body and house where the body is viewed do not carry these "cancers" either; and yes, the morning of her passing, we cleared the front part of my grandparent's house (the kitchen and living room) and that is where the altar and body are viewed. Within hours of a person's death, the body is prepared and given to the family to view in their homes. It was incredible how within hours all the preparations for the casket, plot of burial land and flowers were arranged. The viewing goes on through the night and the following morning. Throughout the evening (we estimated about 150 people passed through the house) people stop by and offer flowers, cinnamon, sugar, and coffee to serve guests during the night. Throughout the evening people are also praying the Rosary. My mom explained that the more people pray the Rosary in her memory, the easier the gates of heaven will open for her. I asked my mom, "But wouldn't that have already been decided based on her life actions?" My mom replied, "In any case, when I die, you better pray as many Rosaries for me as you can." The continuous Rosary prayers reminded me of the Buddhist prayers (sound like chants) I heard in Thailand and India. I found the Rosary prayer to be quite meditative and helpful after about 10 straight rounds of it.


My grandma had over 20 kinds of herbs in her backyard for just about every ailment you can imagine.

[Funny side note: my mom made a comment about my "grunge" look in Mexico and also noted that I wasn't paying attention to what I was wearing (I would wear the same pants 3-4 days straight), nor whether my shirts needed to be ironed, nor if I combed my hair everyday. It was funny because I didn't really notice these things after a while, but reconnecting with my mom was a taste of reconnecting with home and ideas of dress norms].

My mom returned to California a week after the burial and I left for Guanajuato to meet up with Mari, a friend from Fullerton who was vacationing in Mexico at the same time. Her family has a house in Abasolo, Guanajuato and we agreed that it would be a shame to be so close and not meet up at some point. After a few days of unwinding, at her parent's house, we went to the romantic, historical and colonial city of Guanajuato. There is a list of all the tourist attractions that are a must-see and do if you visit, but at that point, I was no longer in tourist sight-seeing mode, I was just happy catch up with a close friend! Luckily she was also in this mode and so we went with the flow and spent three days eating, drinking and people watching under the green shady trees of the plaza- it was perfect!


With Mari enjoying every minute of doing absolutely nothing.

After Guanajuato, I reunited with Coco and Canek in Mexico City (I took red-eye buses between cities) and that was another great visit. That first evening I arrived they took me to UNAM (they're both grad students) for a discussion on the criminalization of critical thought in academia. This was in regards to the deportation of Colombian scholar Miguel Angel Beltran Villegas, http://www.desdeabajo.org.mx/wordpress/?p=1730%22%3E. As I had written about them before, they are a really positive, healthy couple and aside from the other things this visit made think about (future directions, research agendas, life-long projects) they also made me think about relationships and marriage vs. long-term stability...hm...


With Coco when we went out to eat for my birthday (and had the incredible chile en nogada!)


Canek eating really fast!


Later that evening Canek's parents invited us to an event at the Cuban Embassy (celebrating Che's life in Archipielago magazine). "Just don't say you're from the US," Canek warns. "With the nopal on my forehead, who would think that?" I wondered.

After my two week visit catching up with friends I returned to my parent's hometown to spend the last two weeks with my mom's side of the family. Since I had never really spent as much time with her family (we were mostly raised with my dad's side, which I can get into, but not today) it was so nice to live with my mom's sisters and spend time cooking, drinking and playing loteria every night with them and my cousins as well as getting to know them at a different point in our lives- them a little older and wiser, and me, a little older as well. I am so grateful to have such strong beautiful women for aunts! It was also good to spend time with my grandpa and ask him to share funny anecdotes of his dating days with my grandma. I was glad to see that he was joking quite a bit and had a lighter tone in his voice. Right before I left an aunt even said to me "Gusto en conocerte" (nice to meet you) since in many ways, it did feel like I was just meeting them, and I was so thankful that despite her death, my grandmother was able to bring the family closer and created the space to embrace and rekindle our love towards one another.

Back Home Again:

Now I am home job hunting and I find that even this period is a good test of patience. Before returning I thought I would have had some sort of a job lead, hoping that I'd have a few things more structured after my whirlwind experience, but no. I think in another point in time this would have freaked me out, but the difference is that, despite my surface anxieties, I have a sense of assurance that things will work out. This has definitely been one of the greater lessons of the trip- no matter what, there is a plan for you, and you'll be alright (otherwise, how the hell did I travel around the world alone for 10 months and manage to return in one piece??). I am learning to be patient with the job search and in the mean time, enjoy time with family, friends, continue writing and making slide shows of the trip.


From La Capilla overlooking Ixtlahuacan de los Membrillos (my parent's hometown in Mexico)

What would 10 months around the world look like? That's the slide show I'm working on now. In all, I visited Japan, South Korea, Thailand, India, Egypt, Israel (one day in Jordan, that counts, right?), Brazil, Argentina, Bolivia, Peru and Mexico- 12 countries!


While walking the Shikoku pilgrimage route- 221 kilometers total! (137 mi)


With Kyoung Min in Korea


In Thailand on the island of Ko Chang


A 6th grade dream come true!


In Petra, Jordan


Taj Mahal, Agra, India. The detail of all the inlay marble work is incredible!


Llama crossings, Bolivia


Machu Picchu at sunrise.


With Christ the Redeemer on a cloudy day in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.


Hundreds of monks meditating in Bodghaya, India.


In La Higuera, Bolivia, where Che Guevara was shot.

In DF

Es lo malo de aveces dejar tanto tiempo pasar sin escribir porque se acumulan tantas historias y sentimientos que ya ni se por donde empezar...

I'll begin with the present: I am in Mexico City staying with an amazing couple I met two years ago in Mexico (Coco in Mexico, Canek in D.C.) through Mexico Solidarity Network, a program they were working for and I was taking a summer seminar in. Individually and together they are laid back, down to earth and hilarious (not to mention very smart). They have one of the most solid and healthiest relationships I have seen, too; overall they are such a pleasure to be with. It has been so good to hang out with them, know how they are doing, what they're up to, and they really make me think about things in ways I haven't thought of. They are politically conscious, leftist, Latina Americanistas that have a positive and critical way of interpreting and understanding the world. Although I feel like I am practically home, they make up a special part of my trip that is making me reflect on the steps ahead through conversations, lectures and events I've attended with them. But no politica talk for this entry- it's all about the FOOD!

Here I am with Coco (aka Coco Chanel or Coco Eh-mo)



Funny picture with Canek looking like he's giving me a lecture or something



They took me out for my birthday today (I'm now 26!!!) for a DELICIOUS comida (here comida = lunch, which is about 2-3 pm) to Hosteria Sto. Domingo, the oldest restaurant in DF that serves traditional dishes in the historic center of the city.

I had the Chile en Nogada: OH MY GOODNESS...



It is stuffed chiles with ground seasoned beef and about 20 something other ingredients inside with an almond sauce (with a hint of platano macho) all over (think- Like Water for Chocolate special occasion dishes). I took the first taste and it was like nothing I had ever tasted, it was an explosion of flavors and I felt I could taste every single ingredient. I ate it so slowly, with my eyes closed at times, savoring each bite. I even took breaks to reintroduce the flavor in my mouth, I'm serious! I don't think I'll ever forget that moment, that feeling and that sabor.



And yes, that is pomegranate sprinkled on top!



On another day we had brunch with Canek's parents and sister at a well-known pozole house (really, a house in a residential area that has insisted on keeping it a family business for over nearly years and there are tons of people waiting outside as if it was an IHOP on a Sunday morning on Mother's Day.) Here they serve a green pozole, al estilo Guerrero (the state) and it has all sorts of condiments and it is a little more thicker. You add pork rinds, avocado, sardines (si quieres), limon and some chile and voilà, another incredibly delicious meal.

...and here I am enjoying appetizer chalupas before that massive pozole I had above.



I had a hard time walking after that meal (I was overstuffed) but it was worth it.

Pictures below- making our way back home (late at night) on a nearly empty subway.



Pareja Eh-mo

Machu Picchu

Despite all the hype, and so many people everywhere, it still makes you stare and say "Wow, I´m really here."



Click on picture below for album.

From Machu Picchu

Songs on my mind

Gracias a la Vida (interpreted by Mercedes Sosa)

My favorite part:

"Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado la marcha de mis pies cansados.
Con ellos anduve ciudades y charcos,
playas y desiertos, montañas y llanos,
y la casa tuya, tu calle y tu patio."



Al Otro lado del Rio

por Jorge Drexler



Soledad

por Jorge Drexler



Such a beautiful song!

From el libro Poesia de Protesta

Autocrítica

Por Alfonso Chase

Los falsos intelectuales de izquierda no se bañaron esta
mañana
y sudorosos y sedientos, indefensos y hediondos,
insistieron en repartir sus octavillas,
a los intelectuales de derecha y algunos otros estudiantes
que buscaban sus nombres entre la lista de aplazados.
Los falsos intelectuales de izquierda pasaron los memoriales
en donde no firmar era de mal gusto,
y proclamaron nuestro puesto ante la revolución,
mientras los obreros en las cantinas y en sus casa
bebían ron con coca cola y comentaban los diarios.
Los falsos intelectuales de izquierda, esta mañana
luego de comer sus corn-flakes
se montaron en los carros de papá
y junto con algunos otros amigos
empezaron a repartir hojitas en las calles
donde un leguaje que sólo ellos entendían
llamaba al pueblo a subleverase,
porque es muy fácil estar full-time en rebelión
cuando se tiene el estomago lleno
y las caries y el hombre son de los otros, lejanos, y cercanos
pero siempre prendidos como el aire.
Los falso intelectuales de izquierda, esos muchacho de pulóver,
vendidos del alcoholismo y la putería o mas bien,
los hijos de señor Ministro y la señora Embajadora,
que encontraron en la Revolución un justificante para su tedio

y la retrasan en sus relojes para darse tiempo
de aparecer en las crónicas
o en las reseñas históricas que han de hacerse en el futuro.
Los falsos intelectuales, esos que hacen la revolución
en sus tazas de café, mientras los días transcurren y mueren,

sin pedirle a nadie permiso,
o simplemente amarillos como los pergaminos
languidecen en sodas y bares o restaurantes
haciendo la revolución ante un chop-suey,
soñando ser los fieles Castro o los Chees Guevara de bolsillo.

Los falsos intelectuales de izquierda, ligeros
como un ascensor, haciendo versos para agradar al Partido
o angustiándose de pronto porque la noche apenas llega
y en el día no hicieron nada por la revolución.
Estos hermosos muchachos con sus amiguitas al lado,
pálidas sombras de posibles mujeres,
Luisas Micheles sin barricadas, de ojos pintados y pestañas amarillas,
mudas y pálidas como las vestales,
y que nadie ha sabido si son inteligentes o idiotas
porque nunca abren la boca.
Los eternos muchachos, los que después de los treinta aun
siguen siendo los mismos que cuando tenían veinte
y para los cuales la arrugas son solo el pretexto para aducir
sufrimientos conflictivos o conflictos interiores.
Los falsos intelectuales de izquierda
lívidos y sucios deambulando por los bulevares o las rotondas
y fumando marihuana o viendo festivales de cine de protesta
o deambulando en la noche por el Jardín Rosemary.

Los precoces aspirantes o diputados o munícipes,
hablando ante parlamentos juveniles
sobre la necesidad de la rebelión
y ante la muerte heroica
y que por la tarde asisten a la boda de fulanita
y menganita y entre cócteles
y aceitunas
y escotes
tratan de extender la subversión
por entre todas las mesas dispuestas
los hacedores de la revolución de paquete,
la que nace de todas las tardes y se muere de tedio
y puede leerse entre octavillas o diarios o revistas
y esta en sus cuartos un retrato del Che junto a otro de Raquel Welch
y confunden la revolución con el manoseo o el Kama Sutra
y pierden los años y los días en lamentos,
como en una película de Sarita Montiel,
salidos de un cafetín en las mañanas cuando los obreros van a sus trabajos
y perdidos por las calles de la mano de una pequeña amiga,
pálidos y nostálgicos como un poema, del primer Neruda.

Buscar y encontrar

Muchas cosas por compartir. I went with a friend to the small town of Curva, a small town nestled somewhere por las montañas de los Andes, where the hawks fly freely and gracefully. This is where the Kallawaya culture of natural herbal medicine is preserved and practiced. Here we also found Don Max, a yatiri, uno que sabe, for a consultation and a menuchada (ritual for healing and good fortune). The overal trip was beautiful and I felt quite at ease with what he told me. The sights along the way were incredible; I felt far, far away from everything. We were part of this ritual high on a hill that gave us a perfect 360 view of the valleys, and mountains and where the only sound you could hear were that of the birds, wind and rivers below. This was nature and spirituality in perfect balance.

Por Bolivia

Llamas: cute to look at (and they stare right back) and good to eat. Un lomito con su respectivo arroz y salcitas. Mmm mmm.

What´s going on in Mexico?! I have a flight to el DF next month. Several countries (and my mom) are warning against traveling to Mexico and I just got a hold of a friend there that also recommends that "por nada en el mundo vaya." So I´ll have to figure out soon to see if it´s safe enough to change the flight to Guadalajara, or continue seeing more of South America (Colombia?) or just head home early (I suspect my bank account will have more say in this decision than I do); ya veremos...

Now: I flew in to La Paz early this morning (I finally decided to splurge a little after taking several overnight buses) from Santa Cruz. It was beautiful to fly over the rich green landscapes and the snake formations of rivers of Santa Cruz, and then fly over el altiplano and get an up close view of the Intilimani mountain-it was a spectacular sight! I checked into a hostel (where I´m meeting up with a Canadian couple I´ve been traveling with off and on since Rio), called home and just had some delicious rice and potato patties with some fresh squeezed orange juice on the street. Besides being a little short of breath (altitude here is about 3,600 meters above sea level), La Paz reminds me of Mexico city with houses way up on the hills and the fast-paced movement. This is Evo territory and it feels good to be here, where it feels a little less pretentious than Sucre or Santa Cruz.

I´ve been working on this blog post (paragraphs below) for a long time, and I´m still not done really summarizing (so many layers to how I´m experiencing Bolivia), so I´m just going to post what I have now...

Unfortunately I was only in Brazil, and really, only in Rio for a week, but it's been going so well in Bolivia! I've been traveling through here now for about 3 weeks and I´ve been meeting other nice travelers and seeing some beautiful landscapes…but how to summarize experiences in Bolivia without also noting the effects of colonialism, the political tension and la gente…

Entering Bolivia
I was waiting to board a night bus* from Salta to La Quiaca (border town of Argentina with Bolivia) and I noticed a funky dressed girl chatting on the phone with her dad. It was cool to see someone dressed like a backpacker and speaking Spanish (I haven't seen too many other Latino Americanos traveling por aqui). It turned out our assigned seats were next to each other- and she had bought her ticket off some man earlier that day! I asked her if she was on her way to Bolivia, she said yes she was going to meet up with a friend at the border and then head to the Salar de Uyuni (slat flats) and one string of conversation lead to another and we ended up talking for 3 hours (3 am) about school, education, US/Mexican/Argentinian cultures and societies; it was so nice to connect with someone I can call mujer. Her name is Ani and she is from Argentina, works as a nutritionist in indigenous communities and is also getting her PhD in (se me olvido, something to do with nutrition and health); I was so inspired to talk with her and listen to how much she loved what she does and how certain she is about her vocation in life.



Something else- it was nice walking with Ani through the market and passing by women that reminded us both of how our grandmothers worked en los mercados; hers selling and grinding spices and mine (my dad´s mom) selling cheese. There´s not too many people you can share those moments with...



We hung out in Villazon (the border town of Bolivia) where we walked around other mercados and ate tipica comida Boliviana. Below Ani explains how a potato is dehydrated (that video is taking for ever to upload, it´ll go up soon) and later prepared for a meal (also below is a plato de conejo falso, meaning beef.



She suggested that I should join her and her friend (Shawn) to Uyuni (I was on my way to a completely different part of Bolivia) which, from the border would be the closest area to visit. I hesitated at first because that would mean I would have to rethink my rough idea of the order of places I was going to, but we were getting along so well so why not? So I ended up taking a train with Shawn and Ani to Uyuni.

Salar de Uyuni
We got to Uyuni at about 5 am and slept for a few more hours at the train station while we waited for tour agency offices to open and book a 3 day trip to the salt flats. With that last night, it was my third consecutive night sleeping on a bus or train (this means: no shower, smelly clothes, socks, no real sleep and wondering if the lady next to you can smell you; bird baths help but it's not the same!) Below is a picture from a "Train cemetery" in Uyuni.



The trip: three days driving through incredible landscapes making you think you are driving through different worlds. There were seven of us in total (Ani, Shawn, 4 Germans working in La Paz and me). I am so glad that I did end up going with them because I was able to share emotions, feelings, impressions and take funny pictures. El Salar de Uyuni- about 12,000 square kilometers of salt flats. Can you imagine? Looking out and seeing nothing but flat salt earth and seeing the dimensions of clouds (since they're so far away!) Some time in history, this was all an ocean! Then there are areas where after it rains, the water left behind leaves a surreal mirror effect with the sky- we were lucky it recently rained and this view took my breath away.





It was sad splitting, but Ani had to go back to school and work and Shawn and I moved on to Potosi.

El Otro Lado de la Moneda (other side of the coin)
Oh, but many of these wonders and rich resources in Bolivia paid a high price. Take the city of Potosi for example...(skip this if you don't appreciate history or you've heard this one already).

The next stop was Potosi (highest city in the world at 4,060 meters above sea level; you lose breath just walking up a few steps!), a city known for its “Cerro Rico,” full of pure silver and other minerals. Background story (from Galeano, 1971): Inca leader Huayan Cápac went to this city for the curative thermal waters of Tarapaya, where he had also heard of the beautiful mountain of Sumaj Orcko. Once there, he was able to see this beautiful colorful mountain for himself. He suspected there were some precious stones set on the mountain and had miners find precious metals for new adornments to the Sun Temple in Cuzco (so they never used these metals and stones for exportation or trade). He sent miners to the mountain and the legend says that once the miners were inside they heard someone say in Quechua, “This isn't for you; God reserved these riches for those who come from afar.” The miners ran away, the excavation was abandoned and the Inca changed the name of the mountain to “Potojsi” which means “thunder, burst, explode” in Quechua. As Uruguayo writer Galeano wrote, those who “come from afar” didn't take long to arrive and in 1545 a campesino found a shiny sliver of silver on the mountain (after having to spend a night in the mountain looking for a lost llama) and shortly after “se descadenó la avalancha española” (Galeano, 1971, p. 31) (my translation-all hell broke loose).

So this mountain was rich in silver! In gold! In so many precious minerals! Potosi was one of the biggest and richest cities in all of Latin America in the 1600s and supported Spain´s (and really, as Galeano explains, helps all of Europe´s economy) for two centuries! There were over 30 churches and gambling houses in the city and fine linens, fabrics, and jewels were imported from all over the world to here in Bolivia! It´s really hard to imagine all of this while walking through those streets now, passing by the UNESCO World Heritage designation monument at a cross street (now full of tagging), noticing the outskirts of the town still unpaved and learning that miners still work in similar conditions as they did during the silver rush. Forced indigenous miners and African slaves worked in poor conditions (not to mention the already high altitude and bitter cold) in the mountain which lead to the death of millions. It made me rethink about my eargerness to find cheap silver jewelry in the area, which didn´t matter anyway since ironically, you can´t find much silver here anymore; most of it was for export.

Oh, but you´ll find plenty of that in the wealthy, colonial and conservative-anti Evo city of Sucre. The city has a meditteranean feel with it´s white and terra cotta shingles. It´s a beautiful college town (40% of the university supports this town) which is also the official capital of Bolivia where the declaration of independence was signed. Here I learned a little more about Bolivia´s colonial history and it´s "independence" (Spanish fathers overtaken by their criollo sons) and the bravery of badass Juana Azurduy.



I also took a much needed break from moving and stayed for almost a week in Sucre. It´s a small enough town that you can walk nearly every where and the mercado is great- lots of fruits (chirimoyas!), veggies and meals on the third floor for almuerzo, comida y cena. Those 5 or so days revolved around that mercado. I also stayed at a hostel with a big kitchen where one night I cooked carne molida con tomates, arroz con frijoles fritos (cocinando el aceite con un chile y cebolla for that extra kick) and I also showed travel buddies from New Zealand how to make pico de gallo y guacamole, it was delicious!

Next I went to the small town of Samaipata, the jump off point to follow La Ruta de Che, to trace some of Che Guevara´s final steps. It was incredible. I visited the school house in La Higuera where he was shot and that laundry room space where his body was washed and exposed for the media in Vallegrande. I also chatted with inspirational Cuban doctors (and great admirers of el Che) that are working at a small community clinic- medicine and supplies all courtesy of Cuba... I have many more thoughts on this route but I think this is it for now.

After this I´ll visit el Lago de Titicaca, Tihuanaco and then cross over to Peru, I will post more pictures soon. Now I´m hearing some fireworks from some demonstration not too far from here, maybe I´ll go check out what that´s all about.



I can´t say it enough- el Salar de Uyuni was the most amazing sight I had ever seen.

Citation: Las venas abiertas de America Latina by Eduardo Galeano, 1971.

Still Going

My pictures are large images so they take a long time to upload (and cost money to be on the internet).

It´s been going ok, I think I´m finally getting tired of moving around...so I´m looking forward to getting to Bolivia tomorrow and taking it easy. Money goes by fast! Especially in a place like Brazil, so I was only in Rio de Janeiro for a week, which was not my plan. I really wanted to go to the north to see more of the Afro Brazilian culture and learn more about Condomble but with all these transportation costs, I just had to make the decision and head to Bolivia sooner than I thought...so I´m not sure that a capiriña buzz (Brazilian sugar cane liquor drink) and a few Carioca (Rio locals) nalga sightings quite justify a trip to Brazil, nope, I´ll definitely have to come back...sadly, it was a cloudy day when I went to pay a visit to buddy Jesus...



...but I did get to see him the following day, with a beautiful sight of the city from the Pan de Azucar mountain.





Ipanema Beach

I´ve also loved some of the graffitti art on the walls, it´s pretty hard to miss when it seems to be almost every where.





"To acuse is easy, to understand it´s difficult, to abandon, is (my interpretation) worthless"...left me with a lot to think about...

Next I stopped in Puerto Iguazu, on the Argentinian side and oh my goodness, those waterfalls were incredible, I´m not sure how to even describe the sound and that energy that comes from all that water! It was such a beautiful park, and I was completely wiped out by the end of the day from walking and swimming.





I´m on a bus terminal now headed for Salta, Argentina, to make my way to Santa Cruz en Bolivia. Ah! Picture below is with Sasha and Netali from Israel (I met them in Thailand). They were so, so cool, down to earth, super hospitable and I enjoyed every minute of hanging out with them. It was nice to relax for a week and stare out into the Red Sea.