Thoughts as I sit in the departure lounge, part II

Another early morning, another departure lounge. Only this time the music of Frank Tuner's 'Peggy Sang the Blues' is in my ears, I am considerably browner than before (though nobody in Mexico believes this) and I am trying to work out how to show you all a photo slideshow of my time in Mexico without missing my flight while uploading pictures.

Mexico, my friend. We spent a month together. You taught me a lot of things, including:

• Enchiladas an Quesadilla are not the same thing
• Enough Spanish to successfully talk to a taxi driver at 3 in the morning
• 11am is a very acceptable time to visit a bar
• Turtles really DO just hang around near the beach, waiting to say hello
• How to hold a taco properly to stop all the sauce from falling out
• The Tzolkin (ancient Mayan Calendar) and the concept of Galactic Time

And the history! O Dios Mio, do you guys have some history! From the steaming jungles of Palenque to the Great Yucatan plain and beyond, the beauty of the Mayan, Olmec and Mexica (the proper name for the Aztecs) civilisations has left me speechless. Stonehenge is cool, and very old, but it is just a circle of stones. But you guys went all out and built pyramids, tombs, jade masks and intricate calendars. I am in awe of it all.

But I think, most of all, the thing that has astonished me time and time again is the people. In the UK we are not taught much about Mexico; it's a dangerous place, it has a massive drug trade, and you can't trust anyone. But here, I've seen a totally different picture: people who are happy to open their doors to a stranger, to welcome them, and look after them. I've been offered food from people's picnics just because I was sat near them. At least three Mums have sent me off with packed lunches as I got on a bus, and I've had dinner bought for me more times than I can mention, despite my best efforts to pay for something. The generosity of Mexicans astonishes me time and time again. Their trust has also been something of an honour, as I have been left alone in houses, or helped to look after kids, all belonging to people that I've known for a day or more.  Now I'm not stupid; I know there are people who aren't so nice in Mexico, and I know that I have been lucky because of my Scouting connections. But even so, I think I am still right about the people of Mexico; the bad people are no worse than those in the UK, or the USA, or anywhere else in the world. And Mexicans... I don't know how to describe it. They just seem to live more than we do in the UK. Their passion for all things - Scouting, cooking, drinking, partying - they live it all on the outside of their skin in a way that is quite incredible.

I've also gone and learnt some stuff about myself on this journey so far. The best way to sum it up came to me last night as I was sat on my 12 hour coach from Guadalajara to Monterrey, as the music from the credits of whatever film was on played. One phrase stood out: "you can do whatever you want".  Now that phrase probably makes you think of wild antics, doing as much in as possible, and pushing yourself as hard as you can because you might not get another chance. But I would say, after my experiences in Mexico, that is only a part of what those expressions are about. "You can do whatever you want" isn't a challenge to do as much as you can; it's an invitation to do as much - or as little - as you want. Looking back over my life thus far, I can think of far too many times when I haven't wanted to do whatever was going on at the time, and felt bad about it because I felt like I wasn't living up to my potential. And that's wrong. In Mexico I've done what I wanted, when I wanted to, and if that wasn't as much as everyone else would have done then it didn't matter. Nobody in Mexico made me feel bad when I wanted to get some sleep to get up early, or to just sit and read a book for a day instead of dash off to see the sights, and when I think about it, nobody in the UK actually makes me feel bad when I want to do my own thing - it's just me, feeling like I've failed some sort of test. So, going forward, I'm going to try and keep the phrase "do whatever you want" in mind, to remind myself to be comfortable with what I want to do, whatever that is.

Right - time to go get on the plane. See you all stateside, and thanks for reading so far! I promise to try and get some picture related things up soon; if anyone has any ideas for how to o that then just leave a comment!

Week 4: Blink and you'll miss it

Neckers swapped: 2
Drug dealers met by accident: 1
Statues of Don Quixote seen: 5
Mummified children seen: 18
Moped rides taken: 2
Ex-Pinkies met: 2


As the title implies, time is speeding up. I'm sitting in Miguel's house in Guaalajara, while he works this morning, and I'm wondering how I got to the point that there were only two days left in Mexico.

So what happened this week?

Well it all started in Celaya, meeting Gaby, Ex-Pinkie from 2010. For the uninitiated, a Pinkie is a short-term staff member at Kandersteg International Scout Centre (KISC), which is something I did during the Autumn of 2011 (I wrote a blog about it that you can read here, too). She took me for my first ever moped ride, which was exciting.



Mexican traffic was probably a bad place to start, but at least I'll now only be scared of mopeds in India or Vietnam!

She also took me to dinner with the local Scout Group, Grupo 5 Celaya, at which I met some Caminantes, Rovers, Lobatos and Scouters from the group. They were very happy to swap a necker with 1st Helmsley Scout Group in Yorkshire

They also donated me one of their neckerchieves for my own
collection, which was good because I really liked them!

After that, I was shown the rover house of Grupo 5, which I was going to sleep in until someone suggested that I actually went to Hector's house, as he was travelling to Queretaro in the morning, where I needed to go, so he could give me a lift and save me the price of a bus ticket. I was really touched by the gesture, though a little embarrassed when he actually mopped his floor before he would let me in his room! There was just time for some late night necker swapping and badge swapping before bed.

The next day I was off to Queretaro, where I met my fantastic tour guide/friend from Facebook Armando Quintana, who showed me round the beautiful town centre, the local convent and gave me a traditional Oaxacan food experience!

Yum

Having recovered from the Oaxacan food experience, I was off to Guanajuato to meet Erick Perez. Unfortunately for Erick I was about 2 hours late after my bus broke down and we had to stop in a next town to change busses. Good thing Erick had a book to read while he waited! We dropped my stuff in his house and went to see a bit of the town by night, including Estudentinas (wandering groups of musicians who perform local folk tunes), a rock bar, and watching the semi finals of the Mexican league in a very noisy bar

The next day I was shown the sights of Guanajuato, including the Mummies. The story here is that in Mexico you have to keep up payments if you want your family's remains to stay underground; when you can't pay any more, they dig up the body and cremate it. However, when they started digging up bodies in this cemetery, they found that the ground had naturally preserved them, sometimes in incredible condition. I won't put any of the pictures up as some of them (especially the children) are really a bit creepy, and some of you might have been inspired to start eating your own Oaxacan friend grasshoppers and blue tortillas so I don't want to make you sick!

Just kidding- here's one! This is a

 mummified fetus, and reportedly

the smallest mummified human

 in the world.

 



After the mummies we saw more of the town, found something to eat, and took a trip up the funicular railway to see the giant statue at the top of the town. That evening, we found another bar to sit in while we waited for Miguel to arrive from Guadalajara, before finding his cousin's taco restaurant for a bite to eat. I asked if we could head home at that point for some sleep, so we headed home at 1am. At 3am we finally went to sleep, after talking and catching up and generally having a great time.

On Saturday we took a quick trip to San Miguel de Allende to see the sights, and then on to Uriangato (with a detour back to Celaya because I left my water bottle there the first time!). At Uriangato I met up with the Red Jovenes, a network of rover scouts who meet to discuss issues important to Scouting. I also got to participate in a session that is apparently very common in Rovers in Mexico, though somehow up until now I had never encountered it.

Everyone was given some red wine, some cheese and some bread. Then, we went round in a circle, telling stories. The red wine symbolised grief or melancholy, and so first round everyone told a story about a sad time in their lives. Each story was finished with a toast of "Avante" (literally "forwards" or "ahead") and a sip of the wine. The cheese was, in this case, for indecision or neutrality (different clans assign different meanings to the wine, cheese and bread), so a story of that nature was the next round. And finally, the bread symbolised good things and so the final story we told was of a good time in our lives. It was a great thing to be  part of. And afterwards, along with an exchange of campfire songs  I got to swap a necker with one of the new Rovers - even better!

The following morning, Miguel and I sat through a presentation about Scouting in the region, which I didn't really understand but had some very awesome videos which I hope to share on Facebook soon. We then set off in the car back to his house in Guadalajara, some 3 hours away, but I will save that for another blog post as this one has already gone on long enough! And with only two days left in the wonderful wonderful country that is Mexico, the next post might be coming to you from Texas, USA... watch this space.

Here's another mummy, because SERIOUSLY LOOK AT THESE THINGS!!! This one is watching the space with you...

Week 3: Up the mountains to the mother of all cities

Neckers Swapped: 2
Rover Meetings organised: 1
Games of Jenga played: 20 (at least)
Miles travelled:
Tacos eaten: 3
National Scout chiefs met: 1
Bowls of cereal eaten: 4


Well, another week has gone by, and this time I find myself sitting in a Mexican university computer suite writing this post while waiting for my friend Carina to finish submitting her coursework before we walk to her Mum´s work to get a lift to the Scout Cabaña for a rover meeting which I´m running. That´s pretty much been the way it´s gone in Mexico city; constant activity. The hustle and bustle is relentless, even when out in the ´suburb´of Tlalnepantla, where I am staying in a Primary School run by my host´s Mother.

But I´m getting ahead of myself.

Where did I leave you last? If memory serves, I left you in Tuxtla, about to go teach some rovers some songs and hop on an overnight bus to Puebla. The songs went ok, though the focus of the evening was definitely on the many games of Jenga we played (sadly, my Jenga skills are not up to the same standard as my singing skills). I was even donated a miniature Neckerchief (did I already mention that they are called Pañoletas over here?) belonging to Patty´s stuffed rabbit; of course, when I get home I will give it to my stuffed rabbit Otto, thus promoting international scouting links in the animal kingdom too.

The overnight bus to Puebla was fine, though I made the same mistake as I have made with every bus I have got so far. Always, if you can, ask how many stops the bus will make before reaching your destination! In Mexico especially, the bus stations don't always have their names in an obvious place. And if, like me, you didn't get a photo of your destination before you left, you may find yourself sitting in your seat, stationary at a bus station, panicking that you should be getting off, and wondering: would I be better getting off an risking getting left behind, or staying on and ending up somewhere I didn't mean to go? This was especially true when the bus suddenly announced that it was on a 13 hour journey to somewhere that definitely wasn't Puebla; thankfully a kind lady managed to explain to me that Puebla was the next stop and that I should really stop gripping the armrest so hard.

Unfortunately, I only got to stay in Puebla one night. But that night was great; I saw Cholula (giant pyramid with a  church on top), and their beautiful cathedral, and I was offered salsa lessons by a waitress who took a little bit of a shine to me; she, like everyone else, was adamant that I should stay for at least three days, and learn to dance (my new friends were very helpful at this point, needless to say). A few beers in the evening helped to wash away the taste of the ash that was still falling in Puebla after their volcano erupted, and the next morning I was back on the bus to Mexico City.

Mexico City, to put it into perspective, houses 22 million people. That's three times the size of London. You can drive for 50km through the city and not get to the other side. It's one of the only places in Mexico that still has a working train system (a very efficient, French-built metro system) and the smog means that you can rarely see from one end to the other.

Their metro stations also have symbols that look like

they were taken from the Crystal Maze

I loved it though. The pace of life was definitely faster than in Merida or Tuxtla, but there was always something to do. If I wasn’t off to visit the ruins, it was to see the scouts, or to go for a drink, or see the museum, or go and try sushi (turns out I don't like sushi). And, as before, the generosity and friendliness of people never failed to amaze me. In some places when you are travelling, it can be a bit scary when someone new starts chatting to you, even if you are with people you know, but in Mexico the people I met were always quick to let me know they were just joking around, and that I was very welcome.

My new friends even managed to get out to a nightclub, which for those of you who know me you will appreciate is no easy task! I don't know if it was just the club I was in, but unlike the UK you could buy your spirits by the bottle, at which point a waiter would come over, armed with cans of mixers and a bucket of ice, and make the drinks for you! I also tried Mezcal, which is like Tequila but more disgusting, though the shot of what I can only describe as fruit salad that came afterwards made it all better. But I digress.

I saw ruins:

I saw museums:

I met one of my international patrol for the Moot!

 

Though both of them are going, only Raul on the left is in my patrol

I also met the national chief scout of Mexico, though you will need to look here for the picture of that. Needless to say, by the time I arrived in Celaya to meet Grupo 5, one of whom used to work in Kandersteg International Scout Centre, I was so tired that I ran out of time to finish this post, hence why I'm publishing it now, almost a week late! Sorry guys! I'm off to meet some of the Mexican Moot contingent along with my bestest Mexican pal Miguel (sorry all of my other Mexican friends, but Miguel and I were roomates for three months in KISC!) You will have to wait to hear about my adventures in Guanajuato and Guadalajara though, so here's a question to keep you occupied in the meantime: Where can you find the world's smallest mummy?

Mexican Scouting part 2: My time with Grupo 88 Naucalpan

First, a correction: In Mexican Scouting, the term Manadas (Which you will notice I spelt wrong in my last post) refers to the cub pack as a whole. The kids themselves are referring to either as Lobatos or  Lobeznas for girls. Thanks to Alfonso Padilla, Manadas leader freshly paired with 28th Croydon Cub pack, for the update!

 This week, I was privileged to go along to Grupo 88’s Scout meeting. Grupo 88 operate in one of the suburbs of Mexico City, and while with them I learnt a lot more about Scouting in Mexico!

Firstly – I discovered that Beavers do exist in Mexico! The Castorres, literally beavers, are adorable little things that can actually start at age 5, one year earlier than our Beavers in the UK. They are not an official part of Scouting in Mexico, and they don’t exist everywhere, but that doesn’t stop them! Their uniform is pretty cool as well; white shirt with a brown waistcoat, and (best of all!) Little beaver hats! It might have been just because I had been hanging round with an all-girl rover crew for the day but I felt an urge to take one home with me.

He didn't seem as keen, but OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT HAT

Speaking of – that’s right, a girls-only rover crew. In Grupo 88 all the official sections were split by gender. Officially this is no longer Scouts Mexico’s policy, and it was the first time I had seen groups split this way in Mexico, but Grupo 88 is huge, and so they decided to keep the historical split in place to keep the numbers manageable. It seems that, just as in the UK, larger groups with more history tend to stick by that history as they go forwards - and one of the girls I met from the head office was very surprised to hear that we have the same thing in the UK! For Grupo 88 it seems to work fine, as the two packs/troops/units/crews meet up fairly regularly, so they don’t work in isolation. I hung around with the girls rover crew for the day, as my host Mariana was a member, so it would have been a bit rude to head off and spend time with the boys! It was interesting to note that the gender split was not kept up with the Scouters; there were female scouters in charge of the boys’ Menadas, and vice versa.

Meanwhile, a Lobezna had stopped by to watch my negotiations on taking a Castorre home with me

Another difference between Grupo 88 and other groups I had seen was that 88 had their Tropa and their Caminantes together. I can’t remember if an official reason was given for this mix, but speaking to some of the scouters it seemed the thinking that the Caminantes were in a good position to act as Patrol Leaders or a Senior Patrol, lending some much needed maturity to the younger Tropa. Keeping them together also seemed to help bolster the numbers of Caminantes present, as there was less chance of them not coming to an activity because they thought it might be boring, which I know from personal experience can be a problem sometimes with our Explorer units in the UK!

I was very lucky to witness three different ceremonies while I was with Grupo 88. First up I saw one of the Caminantes joining the Clan de Rovers, which took place in a beautiful park setting. Then, back at the group’s Cabana, I got to see the equivalent of a “swimming up” ceremony where a Castorre joins the Menada; then I got to see some Lobatos joining the Tropa. The ceremonies were all relatively similar in that they consisted of three parts: saying goodbye, changing uniforms, and being welcomed into the new section.

For the Castorres, the uniform change took place in a brown velvet tube; they entered in their Castorre uniform, a leader helped them to change into their new Menada uniform, and they emerged a new scout! I couldn’t help but compare this with the UK, where if a leader was to climb into a tube with a Beaver scout there might be complaints made! As it was, there were rovers holding both ends of the tube open so you could see in to see what was going on. Once the Lobato/Lobenza had emerged, they were presented to the rest of the pack, and allocated a six (or Seisiesta as they are known over here).

The Menada ceremony involved the Lobato/Lobenza arriving at two wooden poles horizontally resting on some tyres; one lower, one higher. The Scouter for the Tropa stood past the taller pole. The Lobato stepped over the first pole, and at this point removed their yellow shirt for the green of the Tropa (in this case the shirt was hidden in one of the tyres). They then jumped over the second, higher pole, and they were into the group! All through this part the Scouter was talking to the Scout, explaining what was expected of them now that they were going to join the Tropa, and so forth. Once they had made it into the Tropa, they were allocated a patrol. Unlike the Menadas, who voted from a distance, in the Tropa the patrol leaders ran up to the scout in question (fairly towering over them in this case – must have been a bit scary!) and then decided. In Grupo 88’s case, this was then followed up by passing the new scout (or scouts – 3 graduated on Saturday) down a line made by the Tropa forming two parallel lines an linking hands; the new scout was passed down this line, with a little bit of throwing them up in the air for good measure!

The Clan de Rovers’ ceremony had the Caminante blindfolded, and walked from the rest of the unit to where the Clan were waiting (just like in Cancun). In this case, that involved going up a slope and across a suspension bridge to where the Clan waited. There were candles arrange on the floor, and various bits of paraphernalia to symbolise various aspects of their scouting lives (for example, a guitar to symbolise camping and campfire songs). The new rover was again talked through the change in section, and what it meant to them, and then they handed over their old uniform (note that at this point they were still blindfolded!) They were then handed their new uniform, and presented to one of the Rovers who would be their ‘teacher’ while they were new in the Clan. It works similar to a buddy system that we might use in Cubs or Scouts, in which the Aspirante (the new person) was shown what to do and had a person they could come to with problems and questions and the like. The buddy started by taking them aside and explaining to them about some of the symbolism in the Clan (and believe me, there is a LOT in this Clan!), and the ceremony was finished, bar the usual chanting and shouting that opens and closes most scout meetings in Mexico.

The Clan all gathered to meet their latest member. I am

actually a little surprised that sunglasses aren't an official

 part of the uniform

 

It was interesting to note that at all the ceremonies, the words spoken to the scout who was joining were spoken pretty quietly and to them alone. It seemed to make the ceremony that much more personal to each scout, which I’m sure made it a lot more personal for them. And, as before, the amount of symbolism, pageantry and meaning in the Mexican scouting traditions is far greater than I’ve seen in the UK. Everybody’s neckerchieves have meanings, from the colours down to the size of a line of colour. The Clan de Rovers in Grupo 88 even have secret bits sewn into the tabs they wear at their socks to symbolise the lifeblood of the group, and they wear different colour tabs depending on if they are an Aspirante or a regular rover. You can't move for meanings! And honoured as I was to be a part of their meeting on the Saturday, I was a little apprehensive when they asked me to run a meeting for them on the Tuesday evening.

 

"What kind of meeting do you want?" I asked.

"Oh, whatever you want to!" They said with big smiles.

 

"So guys, I'm here to talk to you about helping me out with a little project... can anyone dance?"

Thankfully, I had thought about this before I left the UK, and so yesterday evening we made tea, learnt some games, and I spoke a bit about Scouting in the UK and how it was different to Mexico. We also translate the rovers' prayer, which the clan use to open and close meetings. The first part is spoken by one person, and the part after the "/"

"Lord give me a valiant heart / that no vain thought turns me away from you

A noble heart / that no unworthy affection reduces

A righteous heart / that tolerates no evil

A kind heart / that no passion enslaves

And a generous heart / to serve"

At the end of the meeting I was surprised again when I was handed a red rose, and all the girls got a white rose. They each took it in turns to personally thank me for my meeting, and for visiting them, and to wish me well on my trip. Finally it was my turn to do the same (well I didn't wish myself well on my trip - well I DO wish myself well on the trip, but - oh never mind) and with that the meeting was finished. It was a beautiful little ceremony; I have a feeling it was just the girl rovers of Grupo 88, but it didn't really matter - I'm sure that as I go forwards and meet more scouts in Mexico I will find similar ways of showing appreciation for brother and sister scouts all over the world, which is basically what this whole trip is about!

Week 2: Did you order your Mexico with extra heat, sir?

Neckers swapped: 4
Bags of recycling sorted: 8
Cenotes swum in: 1
Mayan ruins seen: 4 cities
Miles travelled: 723.5
Habanero chiles eaten: 1/5
Species of monkey observed: 2

As I sit in Luis' office, fan in the corner and classical music wafting through the air, I am reminded that Mexico is a place of contrasts. I have gone from Playa Del Carmen, where I was staying with Victor in his very nice bungalow in a gated community, to staying with Mauricio Vidales in his two storey house, and now Luis Aguayo's house which also has his office built into it for the pest control business he runs, three storeys with two garages (and one mental little dog who I am thinking of stealing!), and it's fair to say that I have been very lucky with the people I have met and the kindness they have shown me thus far on my trip. However, as my bus to Tuxtla drove down mountain roads that no bus should ever attempt (which, due to my pitifully small bladder, I had to try to go to the loo in. Possibly the most dangerous thing I've done yet in this country), I saw houses that really were no more than sticks with some corrugated iron over them. The people weren't starving - they had luscious jungle in the lowlands, beautiful mountain forests in the highlands, and had plots of land to grow food in. But their lives were totally different to the lives of the people whose houses I have stayed in over the last few days; I doubt you could find such a massive difference in way of life in the UK!

The places have been extraordinarily different, too. Playa del Carmen, and Merida, on the Yucatan plain, have been hot, with palm trees, sand, and quite dry heat. In Playa, I visited Tulum, my first ancient Mayan city, set on the edge of the Caribbean sea; if was spectacular, and an afternoon on the beach at the local resort of Akumal, eating at the beachside café, transported me in one instant from ancient ruins to a very typical - but enjoyable - tourist experience. I even saw a couple of turtles, chillin' on the sea floor, when I went snorkelling.



It was just like this documentary I watched

Eventually, though, it was time to wave goodbye to Victor, his wife, his son Pablo and daughter Rohita, and get on a bus to Merida, on the opposite coast of the Yucatan. Merida was similar to Playa Del Carmen, but hotter. Rather than the paltry 35 degrees in Playa del Carmen, in Merida we were looking at 38 degrees during the hottest part of the day. Nobody told me that May was the hottest month of the year for Mexico, so I suppose that this is the hottest I will be on this trip! There I met up with Gabriel Gongora, a Scouter in charge of national opportunities for international experiences, and Mauricio Vidales, a local rover who had agreed to host me. I had an incredible time in Merida, seeing more ruins (Chichen Itza, which is the one with the famous snake shadow pyramid thingy, and Ek Balam, a smaller ruin but one that you can actually climb on, to get the real Indiana Jones Experience!) and swimming in the underground cenote; possibly one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

I believe the word you are looking for is "oooooooooh"

I also got to see some more scouts! In Mexico, every scout troop meets on a Saturday afternoon, rather than in the evenings in the week, and on this Saturday I got to watch (and participate in!) an Aro Indio tournament between two units (for more details on this, see this post about the game) and at which I swapped another two neckers, linking Cockermouth Explorers with Grupo 11 San Jorge Caminantes, and Purley & Pangbourne Explorers with Grupo 17 Caminantes. Hurrah! I also got to talk to the rovers about what I was doing, and why I was taking this trip, which was great and gave them all practice at playing the role of translator! One of the Caminantes was also very keen to work at Kandersteg International Scout Centre, so hopefully he will keep in touch and let me know how he gets on with that.

My two groups in Merida, and world champion Aro Indio players as well!

Time, however, waits for no man (or Scout) and so it felt like no time at all before I was packing my bag (complete with new hammock!) to get the overnight bus to Palenque. And when I got off the bus, bleary-eyed and half asleep... well I didn't see much, because I was half asleep. But when I had woken up, and taken the collectivo (a collectivo is like a little bus service run by minibuses) to the ruins of Palenque...

Gone was the flat. Gone were the palm trees. Gone was the sandy, dusty  earth. In its place, there were luscious jungles, crowning hills and mountains in which sat the ruins of Palenque. The air was alive with the sounds of insects and birds, and the air felt close and humid. As I walked through the ruins of the main temple (you could actually walk through hallways in the dark and emerge at the top of the structure!) a roaring in the distance made me look up at the higher half of the site, where three temples sat. My guide book said that it was Howler Monkeys, which is pretty cool on its own, but in that place it was so easy to believe that they were dragons. I spent the whole morning gawping at the ruins, and slowly saturating my clothes with sweat - the humidity in the jungle more than made up for the (slightly) lesser temperature.

Yeah I did the big arms pose. What are you gonna do about it?

Tell me you wouldn't want to get yourself a whip and a leather jacket if you were here

 



Alas, my bus to Tuxtla was leaving at 12, so I had to tear myself away from the ruins to walk to the museum. Even more unfortunately, the museum was closed because it was Monday, so I had to settle for reading my book for a  few minutes while I waited for a Collectivo back to town. I managed to get my postcard to my old work posted, though I had to put the stamps over some of the writing (sorry guys!) and then I made it back to the bus station, where I accidentally tried to pay the lady in the secure luggage storage in apples, and got on my bus, which took off up and down more insane roads that made me think I should have travelled by helicopter.

After another 6 hours of isolated mountain villages, farms and corrugated shacks, we pulled into Tuxtla. I was sat texting my latest contact when he walked right up to me, and in a blur we had loaded my bag into his truck, had a quick bite to eat in a restaurant, and I had been taken to his massive house to get settled before a quick jaunt round the town. Luis is a wonderful man, and his wife Miriam is the state chief for Scouts in Chiapas (an equivalent of County Commissioner here), and I met him through his daughter, who works for the Scouts Mexico HQ. His son, Luis Antonio, is also going to the World Scout Moot, as is one of the rovers I met last night when we went to a restaurant which featured traditional folk dances, and a bizarre ritual where any takers can sit in a chair and be blessed by the dancers with a floral wreath. Of course, I was volunteered to participate!

"Don't act like you're not impressed"

While I have been in Tuxtla, I have visited San Cristobel, a mountain village with lots of churches, and been on a river trip to see some crocodiles (we only saw one, but we made up for it by seeing a family of Spider Monkeys). Tonight I will meet up with more rovers, and apparently teach them some English songs, before hopping on my overnight bus to Puebla. What will I see there? Who knows. But I have been assured that it WILL be cooler than here (we were still had 38 degrees on the river, though in San Cristobel it was a chilly 28!), so maybe I can finally actually wear the trousers that I packed for this trip!

Aro Indio

It's morning in Tuxtla, and I am slightly nervous that we have made it to nearly 8.30 am without someone coming to tell me we have to get up to go and do something today! However, I will take advantage of the opportunity to jot down the rules of a game I have learnt while I have been out here in Mexico. It's a great game and I intend to teach it to as many scouts as possible when I get home! So read up on the rules here, and then when I come to see you in the UK we can play!

The game is called "Aro Indio", meaning (as far as I remember, since Google Translate won't play today), "Indian Ring". The game is played on a court that should be roughly the size of a basketball court, but in practice can be any old stretch of grass. Standard teams are 5: four on the pitch, and one goalkeeper. The goalkeeper is armed with a stick, about 4 feet long, and the players play with a ring. The idea is for each team to try and get the ring onto their goalkeeper's pole to score a point. Simple! In all the games I have seen the ring has actually been made from an old car's fan belt, wrapped around with twine/thin rope and then gaffa taped in place. This shouldn't be too hard for scout groups to get hold of, and a fun part of the activity can be making the playing pieces, but if you are short for time then any ring will do!

Play starts in the centre, with a referee tossing the ring up and two players making a grab for it as in Basketball. Players cannot run with the hoop, though they can slide it along the floor, run to it and pick it up again. Passing obviously happens by throwing the ring to another player. Players of the opposing team can intercept the ring and pass to their own team members when the ring is in the air. If a ring is caught by two members of different teams, then play stops, and the referee throws the ring up at the point where the two players are standing, as at the beginning of the game. If both players catch the ring, then the process is repeated. The referee can choose to throw the ring high or low, so players have to be ready for a big jump, small jump, or even to crouch down to win the ring!

A point is scored when the ring is caught by the goalkeeper; the goalkeeper cannot move from their spot (in one version of the game they stood in a tyre), though they can reach out on one foot if they want to. If they put a foot down outside their area then no point is scored. Also, if the ring falls off the stick then no point is scored! There is also an area in front of the goalkeeper which nobody is allowed into, to stop people from getting too close to the goalkeeper (so they have to throw the ring to score), and if you cross this line the other team gets a penalty. The line is the 'D' in a Basketball court, or whatever semicircle you agree on in your Scout Hall (so you can make it shorter for Cubs and longer for Explorers!)

Once a point has been scored, the ring is given to the team who lost the point and they start from either side of the goal (like a goal kick in Football), and if the ring goes out of play at the side or at the end of the pitch then play continues like in football (the team who threw the ring have to give it to the other team, who then throw it in from the point it left the court). To take a penalty, one team gets a straight shot at their goalkeeper from behind the halfway line.

So those are the rules! I have put up a video of the Caminantes playing, which you can see here to get an idea of how the game is played. If anyone has any questions about the rules then ask away, and if I can't answer then I'm sure one of my Mexican friends can answer for me. And if you give the game a go then be sure to tell me how it went on the blog or on Facebook! 

The Necker Swapping Begins...

First of all, can I please just say. Mexico. WHY ARE YOU SO HOT?! I thought I would be ok in the heat today, and it's fair to say that I didn't die, but oh my God! 38 degrees Celsius is no joke. But I made it, and - even better - Mauricio's mum (Mauricio is my host in Merida) has washed my clothes for me, so I won't run out of underpants tomorrow!

But that is not important right now. What is important is that I have now swapped two neckerchieves, and linked two UK scout groups with groups here in Mexico!

The first groups to be linked were SADnet, a Scout Network in the north of the UK, and Grupo Uno Cancun Clan de Rovers, with whom I spent my first weekend in Mexico camping.



Here I am, in my official scouting swimming shorts, exchanging
 the neckers with Jorge, one of the rovers, in his official sunglasses

As you will remember from my blog post about Mexican Scouting (you did read it, right?), the Clan de Rovers are aged 18-22, and get up to all sorts of cool scouting activities that any Scout Network would love to try in the UK (building and sleeping on your own sleeping platform, anyone?) For the non-UK readers, the Scout Network is the final section in UK Scouting, for ages 18-25, and they take part in many camps and activities. Many Network members are also Scouters, or Scout Leaders, with the younger sections.

The second necker I swapped was with 1st Fram Scout group, who are based in County Durham, again the north of England, with the Tropa of Grupo Uno Playa del Carmen. I met the leader, Victor, when on camp with the Rovers, and he very kindly agreed to host me for a few days, and was very excited by the chance to swap neckers and make contact with a UK Scout troop!

Here he is, proudly wearing his new necker! No uniform this time
as we weren't at an official scout meeting, but we did do the proper
handshake and salute, at least!

So the project is off to a flying start! I hope that it goes this well throughout the trip, and I hope that all the necker swapping is going to result in lots of international contacts, understanding, and friendship. I'll be honest - this project hasn't been done before as far as I know, so I don't know if it will work. But I really hope that it does, and with the support of the groups who are involved, I am pretty sure that this will be something special. Maybe I'll try to keep the blog going after the trip, to follow the progress of the groups.

Anyway, that's enough from me! We are thinking of swimming in more cenotes tomorrow (if you were too lazy to click the link, then cenotes are underground pools sacred to the Maya) before Scouts, so I had better get to bed! I think I will try sleeping in the hammock tonight, so that Mauricio can have his own bed back!

Mexican Scouting - a brief introdction

I've now had the pleasure of meeting quite a lot of Mexican Scouts from the Quintana Roo region of Mexico, (on the Yucatan Peninsula, including Cancun, Playa del Carmen and Merida), so I think I can start to let you know about how they work and what they are like compared to us back in the UK. Of course, some of the details might be different in other regions, but if they are then I'll let you know in a subsequent post. Of course, this does mean that you will need to keep reading to find out if anything changes!

First - the sections. split down quite similar lines to the UK sections, but the first section pretty much incorporates beavers and cubs together. So from 6-10 years old is the Menadas, the equivalent of our cub scouts (Menada means cub in espanol).The next section up is the Tropa , or Troop, from ages 11-14, pretty much the same as our Scouts. Up next is the equivalent of our Explorer Scouts, the Caminantes, or Pioneers, ages 14-18. Once you graduate from the Caminantes, you have the Clan de Rovers, (the Rover Clan) who correspond with our Scout Network, but only go from ages 18-22. After the ages of 22 you become a Scouter, or a Scout Leader. This means that, at 23, I should technically be a scouter.



It was just a bit unfortunate that the rovers adopted me first!

The sections, as in the UK, are easily identifiable by the colours of their shirts; Yellow for the Memadas, Green for the Tropa, Dark Blue for the Caminantes, Red for the Clan de Rovers, and Scouters wear a light blue/grey shirt. The shirts are all the same style, so it's only the colours that differ; unlike the UK, the Menadas wear full shirts instead of jumpers. The official scout trousers in Mexico are also far cooler than the UK Scout trousers, and the model they took the sizing from seems to have actually been a genuine human being instead of whatever it was they based the UK trouser sizes on! They zip off to make shorts, which I suppose is necessary given the weather, and for the girls there is an option very similar to the old Girlguiding Culottes, only more hardwearing - shorts with fabric over the front and back so they resemble a skirt.

There's quite a bit more pageantry surrounding the scouts that I've seen so far; on the camp, each group had their own banner to mark their area, and the individual patrols in the different Tropas all had made their own flags, so when they all formed up they really looked quite good! Each section also has their own chants (which I won't pretend to have remembered or understood), which made it quite hard for the county commissioner to get everyone's attention when trying to close the camp! Its something that I think we could do a bit more in the UK, it was quite apparent that the kids were getting into the spirit of things quite a lot more thanks to all the chanting and the jumping and the flags. In fact, especially with the Menadas, the leaders really struck me as being tremendously excited about what they were doing there; they were certainly jumping around enough!

As for the programme, the only section I can talk about is the Clan de Rovers; while on camp I attended a four hour forum about their community service projects (surprisingly, it wasn't boring, despite being in Espanol!) It seems that the rovers here include, as part of their programme, various service projects which they conceive of, organise and run. Suggestions at the forum included beach cleaning, painting the bottoms of trees to prevent ants from destroying them, and other things which I didn't get time to ask about as I was whisked away by an avid badge collector to talk about badges. But the idea struck me as one that we could use in the UK - how big a part of community service is Scouting, these days? We have our resurrected version of bob a job week, but certainly for groups in my area, this is about it. And it’s certainly true that one of the reasons Network doesn’t work that well in many places is a lack of focus. What if we incorporated these service projects into our programme for network, and so gave them something to base their programme around? Of course they would do other things, but making a difference in their local community might give them a bit of focus – and, of course, help the community, which is one of the things Scouting was originally built around! Because the planning and organising are all part of the process too, you can try literally any project you want – arranging it with the local council, getting paperwork; all these are part of the challenge!

So there you have it. No doubt I will add more as I go, but right now I need to send some more couchsurfing requests and pack for Merida and the 38 degree heat they were talking about on the TV earlier. Wish me luck!

Week 1: Finding my feet, Cancun, and The Quintana Roo Camp

As this blog might have people reading it from other countries now, I am going to have to try and use simpler English! However, there is a translate button at the top of the page, for if you get stuck, so I hope there are no problems with anyone reading this!

The first week has been, to put it mildly, brilliant.

Landing in Cancun, I was a bit disappointed to see that it was raining! It was only a brief shower though, and in no time at all I had met up with Monica, who I met through Couchsurfing.com! She and her friend Alfonso picked me up and took me to the local shopping centre, where we ended up sitting in a McDonalds, enjoying the free Internet. Monica was meeting some students at university to get some studies done (her final project was in on Friday) and I was trying to stay awake, as although it was 4pm in Cancun, it was 10pm in my head; I had got up at 5am that morning so to say I was a bit tired would be an understatement! I also met Adriana, a friend of Monica's who is in a rover crew here in Cancun.

Monica on the left, Adriana on the right - my first friends in Cancun!

We went for some pizza, and then met up with Armando, another friend, and saw a popular local hangout, complete with stands selling corn in all its glorious forms, some of which are nice and some of which are not so nice! By now I was getting a bit delirious from the lack of sleep, so Adriana drove me and Monica home for the night. Now I thought that I was going to stay with Monica in her house, so I got very confused when she got out of the car and started asking directions! It turns out that she had a friend who rents out apartments, and he had one free for a few days, so I was staying there! It was a bit scary when they closed the door and left me on my own for my first night, but I was so tired I didn't care!

For the next few days I saw some of the touristy side of Cancun, like the Mayan ruins and the museum (in the rain; it's so hot here that sometimes you get sunshine in the morning, and then rain in the afternoon after all the moisture has been evaporated. Finally my Geography A Level is worth something!) and the aquarium, with a dolphin show to finish it off. I also saw some of the other side of Cancun with Adriana; she took me with her to help with her university work, taking pictures of places in the city that they want to improve, and also going to a high school orchestra recital with Montse, another rover. For some reason, I also went to a salsa club, despite not knowing how to salsa and having decided to go to bed half an hour beforehand!

This is harder than it looks, especially after you have been bullied into eating lots of Tacos!

 

And then I went camping. The camp was the equivalent of a county camp in the UK, as it had all the Scouts from the Quintana Roo state of Mexico. This was good news for me because it meant that I could talk to Scouts from Playa del Carmen, my next destination, to try and find somewhere to stay! The camp was incredible, and lots of people wanted to get a photo with me because I was from the UK; it was like being a Scouting version of Robbie Williams! We did plenty of cool stuff, including a camp fire, making traditional Mexican food, building a sleeping platform (unfortunately I didn't get to sleep on it because there wasn't room but it was still good to help!) and I was honoured to help invest a new rover scout after the camp fire on the Saturday evening. It was great to see what they got up to on the camp, and I will put that in another blog post - this one is already long enough!

Suffice to say that on the Camp, Victor Torras very kindly invited me to stay in his house, so here I am! I had a fun coach trip with the Tropa and the Manada (more on those in another post, but basically other sections) home, and then we went out for Tacos with one of the Scout leaders (we had to wait for Victor because he was taking another leader to the hospital with a broken ankle), and I started taking my antimalarial tablets. So far, no bad side effects, and today I went swimming in a cenote (sacred Mayan pool, good for snorkeling and with a nice little ledge to jump in from), so all in all I am off to a great start! The people I have met have been so kind and willing to help me out, and have been very forgiving of my terrible Spanish! I will try to make the blog posts shorter in future, but thanks for reading and speak to you all soon!

Some thoughts as I sit in the departure lounge

There are times when the world feels huge. As I woke up this morning, the walls of my room seemed a million miles away, and the journey I was planning to take infinitely more so. The shower wasn’t warm enough, for some reason, and as I sat there shivering in the morning light at 5:15am, I will confess I had a moment of doubt. Well, I’ll confess that that moment of doubt was the latest in a few I had been experiencing over the last couple of days as the start date of my trip hurtled towards me like an out of control cement truck. Wouldn’t it be easier to spend the summer at home, with friends? After all, I had gone through a break up relatively recently, and I wasn’t sure that I was entirely over it yet. My friends and family had been a lifeline for me in the first part of this year, and now I was planning on leaving them for a third of a year. I felt like a helicopter with intermittent power failure, dipping down only to stutter back into life and ride up on another wave of positivity and enthusiasm for the trip, leaving a trail of smoke in my wake. Was I ready for this trip?

The answer, really, is no.

We are never ready, really. We can try to prepare, to brace ourselves for what’s about to happen, and we can try to reason away what is happening, but we are never truly ready for life. Now obviously I’m not talking about the small stuff, though I’m sure those of you with kids jumped immediately to thoughts of the school run when I said that. I’m talking about big life events: first day of school, first kiss with someone special, leaving your job, death of a love one. You can never be truly prepared for what you will feel, or think, or say (I’m not prepared for half the things I say), and you certainly can’t be prepared for what other people are going to do and say. There is no brace position that protects you from what life will do to you, either. Life changes you, and sure – you can try and prepare for that, but what will it change you into? Will you like what it does to you? Will other people? Life washes over us as sure as the tides, and it we aren’t drowning then we’re really doing quite well.

So what do you do? Is there any way, as Baden-Powell loved to say, to “be prepared” when it’s almost impossible? My answer would be, in this instance, don’t. To prepare yourself emotionally, spiritually even, for events like this can all too easily become the equivalent of making sure you can stem the impact of what life does to you. It’s like making a backup copy of your psyche, to be preserved against what is going to happen to you and what those things will do to you. To use the swimming metaphor, it’s the equivalent of putting on your diving suit, or getting in your submarine. But what do you miss from inside that cocoon? What glorious sights are you missing as you walk the floor of life’s ocean, safe inside your suit of armour? I feel like, at times, I have walked along my own ocean floor, insulating myself against the damage life might do to me, telling myself that I was really swimming.

That’s partially what this trip is about; this is me taking off my diving suit, and giving swimming a go. That’s what the anxiety is about; right now I am in the troughs and swells of the waves, gasping for air, with my diving suit tied to my back in case it all gets too much. But of course, the suit is weighing me down. So my first mission on this journey is to let that suit go. Because once the weight of that is gone, I will be able to swim with that tide. It won’t matter what life throws at me, because I won’t be busy trying to protect myself against it. The wave will swell, and I will be there at the forefront. And life, let me tell you something: not only am I going to swim with you, but I am going to conjure a surf board out of nowhere and ride the waves for as long as I can. If anyone wants to try surfing with me, just give me a call. Because that’s also what this trip is about; if I can free myself up and embrace life’s changes, then you sure as hell can to.

Now, where’s the Dixons? I forgot to buy a travel adaptor for the Surface.