Today I sit at a small computer in an un-airconditioned office in the Rio Dulce, Guatemala. We've just got back from ten days at sea in Belize. Truly one of the most incredible experiences of my life. We were leary when we left that we'd end up going stir crazy on a sail boat for longer than a week. I was amazed to find, however, that we acclamated incredibly quickly. It seemed after a few days and one trip with seven foot quartering swells (that resulted in my macbook pro taking a salt bath and dying) that I found my sea legs and pretty soon being at sea became the norm. After leaving Guatemala, we sailed for five hours to Placencia, Belize. There we provisioned and picked up Jim's wife Lois, who happened to be the ship doctor as well. It was a good thing, because my cameraman got a pretty voracious case of sea sickness and needed a little TLC. Drugs and a 24 hour nap later we were all fit and ready and headed east to island hop. We visited all kinds of keys and islands, reefs and shoals. I snorkeled for the first time, and saw an incredible variety of wild life in the belizian coral reefs. One night culminated with us on a small sliver of an island trying to build a fire at sunset. Even though the sunset was beautiful, and we had brought our secret ingredient, we could not get the fire lit. Apparently, the wood was a little too wet for even gasoline. Oh well.
We spent a few days in Glovers reef. Another beautiful island and headed back. Its amazing to think how natural it became to be on the boat. A few hours on land and I'd be jonesing for some water under my feet again. Yesterday we dry docked the boat in what Jim has said was the fastest turn around for the Lorena yet, and today we hop a bus to head for Flores. Flores is a small town on an island in the middle of a lake in Northern Guatemala. It's about a forty five minute bus ride to Tikal, where the ancient Mayan ruins are located. We're supposed to meet Jordan and Libby in Flores. Our australian boatmates for the past two weeks, we dropped them off in Belize on our way back to the Rio. Jordan just finished two semesters studying abroad in Long Beach, CA and George Washington University, in DC. Libby, his girlfriend, had a work visa and stayed with him for the journey. On their way back to Australia to finish his masters degree on his way to becoming an Architect, they decided to spend a few months in Central America. Hopefully we'll see them again. Its the end of our trip, and its been incredible.
Michael
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Launching the Lorena
We’ve spent the last few days in RAM marina on the Rio Dulce. We tested GoPro mounts, we worked on the Lorena. We also met an Australian couple that are going to hitch along for the ride for a while: Jordan and Libby. Libby has offered her services in the kitchen for a few days, which will be great as I’ve had about as many egg and bean breakfasts as my stomach will allow. I’ll eat whatever you feed me, but my spoiled pallet will welcome the change. One of the managers at RAM mariana had a death in his family and so left on our launch date for Guatemala City for the funeral, taking with him the only boat lift operator in the marina. It’s given us time to complete a few projects we would not have had time for otherwise on the boat, but has caused an insatiable case of stir crazy. Today, however, we were offered a reprieve. At 5:30 AM this morning, we paid a local tour boat (called a launch, probably a 15 or 20 footer) to take us up the Rio Dulce to Texan Bay and Livingston so we could get our immigration papers taken care of ahead of Jim and the Lorena.
The river in the morning is breathtaking. Surrounded on both sides by rolling green hilltops and mountains, a light mist hovers just above the trees and the mountains. Couple it with small dugout canoes piloted by paddling mayan fisherman emerging tenuously from said myst and it feels like I’m in a disney movie. Our first stop was Texan Bay, a small ex-pat hang out where they’ve built a school and a very small community, about forty five minutes from Fronteras. We got to film school kids on their way to school across the river paddling in dugout canoes. Talk about a back-in-my-day story. A friend of ours that volunteers at the school told us tonight that most of the kids can’t swim. A common phrase is to be hungry for knowledge, and these kids must have huge appetites.
Afterwards we headed up river toward Livingston. We passed a natural hot spring in the mountain that smelled like rotten eggs. Nothing like a warm sulfur bath to take your skin, I mean, the edge off. From here the Rio opens into winding caverns of limestone and tree covered cliffs. Josh and I have our work cut out for us to film it. It is truly awe inspiring. Even with numerous passes, the reality is it would be impossible to show the scope and the beauty of this passage without a helicopter and a 35mm film camera with all the bangs and whistles. I have been to the Jungle, and it is amazing. I didn’t venture very far in mind you, maybe a big toe. Maybe the next smaller toe down, but I have been to the Jungle.
Afterwards we cleared out passports through Livingston. We’ll be making another pass through Livingston when we have Lois aboard on our way back through in 9 days, so I will leave this posting brief. Leave it to say Livingston is a multicultural community with a large Garfuni population, which is largely composed of the predecessors to African slaves dropped off by French Trade ships decades upon decades ago. A large Reggae community exists, I almost bought a bamboo flute of sorts, and Josh nearly ended up with braided dread locks. It took way too long to process our passports for leaving Guatemala, and it cost way too much money but we got the job done.
After heading home, with only brief stops to mount the GoPro cameras to small mayan fishing boats, we arrived back at RAM marina just in time to launch the Lorena from her dry dock. I’ve been on many boats in my life, but none like this. A sixty foot sail boat with beds for 5 is no small boat. Today, I feel like this is something that could very easily get into your blood and stay there. We’ll see how I feel in nine days when I’m stir crazy and jonesing for some permanent terra firma.
We had dinner with the crew and new friends at a small cantina off of Texan bay and early tomorrow morning we ship for Belize. I’m glad to be moving. I’m even happier to be filming. We’re working, we’re playing, and we’re experiencing life. It seems to be there to be lived, all you have to do is hop on board.
Michael
06/15/2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Day 4: Rolli's story and the Long Bus to Fronteras
Most of the people in Sumayak have some form of livestock, and the house behind Rogelio’s home has a rooster with an over-developed voice box. It was actually a delightful change from the blaring monotone ‘beep’ of my alarm back home. Rogelio’s wife Reina prepared a fantastic homemade breakfast of eggs and beans, cheese and locally made bread; including the best coffee I’ve probably ever had. Guatemala is known for their incredible coffee exports, and Sumayak has many small coffee plantations nearby. Locally grown, and locally roasted, it was as fresh as fresh could get.
After breakfast, over another cup of coffee in his yard, we filmed Rogelio’s story. A conversation only sporadically interrupted by excitable kids and neighbors, it went very well. Running behind, we filmed the belt maker on the way out of town and headed for a Tuk Tuk to take us to the main highway to catch a bus to Guatemala City.
Three hours later we were thankfully picked up by Borris again and made our way to Yo Cargo to pick up a battery Jim had shipped in for the boat. We had been aiming for the 4:30 bus to Fronteras, which is a six hour bus ride from Guatemala City, but ended up making the 7pm. It was a better bus than the previous buses we’ve had: it had assigned seating and drapes on the windows. Most of the windows weren’t cracked. Once they reached full occupancy they stopped letting people board. Like most buses in Guatemala, however, it still made a dozen or more stops along the way, many to let vendors on to sell their wares. I’ve begun feeling the effects of some sort of virus or infection, and was looking to sleep the ride in. The lights coming on and off every time we stop and the bus driver’s intense affinity for loud polka music said otherwise. Even still it was a better ride than most have been.
We got in to the Rio Dulce at 130 AM and headed straight for the hotel. I’ve heard this place is something special, but currently, its far too dark to tell. Jim showed up to the highway on a golf cart provided by the hotel that was probably running on one battery with only an eighth of a charge left. Every time the cart driver turned on the light, the cart would slow down. At one point Josh actually got out and pushed, with the driver being none-the-wiser. With one of the most important points to our story already in the can, I feel I can breath a little easier tonight, so long as this virus doesn’t have anything to say about it. Today was a long day, and even though I sat for most of it, I am definitely tired. Tomorrow we’ll rent a Tuk Tuk and mount the GoPro’s to it and film some of the streets of Fronteras.
After breakfast, over another cup of coffee in his yard, we filmed Rogelio’s story. A conversation only sporadically interrupted by excitable kids and neighbors, it went very well. Running behind, we filmed the belt maker on the way out of town and headed for a Tuk Tuk to take us to the main highway to catch a bus to Guatemala City.
Three hours later we were thankfully picked up by Borris again and made our way to Yo Cargo to pick up a battery Jim had shipped in for the boat. We had been aiming for the 4:30 bus to Fronteras, which is a six hour bus ride from Guatemala City, but ended up making the 7pm. It was a better bus than the previous buses we’ve had: it had assigned seating and drapes on the windows. Most of the windows weren’t cracked. Once they reached full occupancy they stopped letting people board. Like most buses in Guatemala, however, it still made a dozen or more stops along the way, many to let vendors on to sell their wares. I’ve begun feeling the effects of some sort of virus or infection, and was looking to sleep the ride in. The lights coming on and off every time we stop and the bus driver’s intense affinity for loud polka music said otherwise. Even still it was a better ride than most have been.
We got in to the Rio Dulce at 130 AM and headed straight for the hotel. I’ve heard this place is something special, but currently, its far too dark to tell. Jim showed up to the highway on a golf cart provided by the hotel that was probably running on one battery with only an eighth of a charge left. Every time the cart driver turned on the light, the cart would slow down. At one point Josh actually got out and pushed, with the driver being none-the-wiser. With one of the most important points to our story already in the can, I feel I can breath a little easier tonight, so long as this virus doesn’t have anything to say about it. Today was a long day, and even though I sat for most of it, I am definitely tired. Tomorrow we’ll rent a Tuk Tuk and mount the GoPro’s to it and film some of the streets of Fronteras.
Day 3: Sumayak
Today we started the day off filming on top of the hotel roof that we stayed at in Guatemala City. Rogelio left us for a few hours to go to the bank and run some errands and Josh and I filmed until our hearts were content. After exhausting material to film at the hotel, and being under strict orders not to venture off on our own (What possible trouble could two Americanos with a ton of camera gear get into?), we busied ourselves watching the most extreme Japanese cartoon show I’ve ever seen. Most Japanese Anime rely heavily on close ups of intense emotions such as jubilation and anger. This was a show about soccer. Battling soccer. And it relied heavily on the latter. Dubbed in Spanish, we about had an aneurism.
After filming in the hotel and teaching Rogelio how the Lavalier microphones (wireless mics) work, we hopped into a cab to head to the bus station. Yesterday we had made a deal with a local cabbie, Borris, to drive us around Guatemala City for a reasonable price. After speaking with him, and practicing my spanish, I was glad to see he was to be our driver again today. Borris had a tourist visa to the US for a while, and bliss for him would be to work and live in San Fernando, CA. He loves Guatemala he tells me, but California is the icing on the cake.
After bidding farewell to our new friend, Rogelio took us to the local bus terminal. Its the local bus, very safe he assures us. After filming for a few minutes in the bus station, we get promptly shut down. The guard was nice enough about the ordeal, but photography was strictly prohibited. Luckily, we got everything we needed. At the bus station Josh and I experienced what is rapidly becoming a modus operandus for us: people staring. A unique look at what it must feel like to be a celebrity and not be able to be another face in the crowd; our blue eyes, pale skin, and light hair made us stand out like sore thumbs. It seems we are a rarity in this part of the world, and the fact that we are lugging around cameras and gear seems to add to our mystery. I asked Rolli why they were staring at me, and he told me its because I look like an actor. Surprising, and intriguingly reassuring, I bashfully welcomed the compliment.
After getting to the commercial bus terminal, we lugged all of our gear onto a medium sized bus headed for Sumayak, Rogelio’s village. Three hours and change and some frazzled nerve endings later we arrived, A word about Guatemalan bus drivers. They are equal part amazing, awe inspiring, and terrifying. If I told you I knew the exact number of times we were driving on the wrong side of the street, overloaded the bus, or passed within inches of another on-coming bus, I’d be lying. New York cabbies be warned: you have competition.
A warm and hearty welcome is waiting for us in Rogelio’s village. His mother is the first person to greet us. She takes my bag regardless of my protests and sits us down in her home. Within minutes I’ve met a half dozen people all in Rogelio’s family and there is a beer in my hand. Rogelio has two twin boys, Balin and Javier, who likes to go by Javi. What followed was easily one of the most incredible and rewarding experiences of my young life. Pulling the GoPro camera with its LCD back from my pocket, I got to give the kids a camera demo and show them how to make movies. Maybe not Hollywood films mind you (as if I’m a staple there anyway), but some of the very basics they never would have had access to otherwise. A solid hour of entertainment ensued as the kids ran around filming each other.
Afterwards Rolli took us with his wife on a tour of Sumayak which included but was not limited to the main church, friends, family, the main market place and a taxi ride in a a Tuk Tuk, a local motorcycle taxi with three wheels. After our tour his wife and parents hosted us for dinner with homemade chicken soup and hand made hot flour tortillas. The soup was incredible, the company was better. Though I struggled through my broken spanglish, they were warm and accepting. Afterwards we spent another thirty minutes saying goodbyes and taking photos before heading back to Roli’s home to download footage and work. I got to show he and his family some entertaining features on my macbook and our gear (most had never seen anything like it), the highlights including playing with the wireless lav’s in the house (room to room) and taking silly photos of everyone on Photo Booth with various effects.
As we were preparing and discussing tomorrow’s itinerary, Rogelio sat us down to tell us his story. A perilous journey from Guatemala to eventually Los Angeles, it was both heartwarming and moving. At one point the house shook slightly, and though my over-excitable imagination tried to chalk it up to the content, we decided it was a small earth quake and moved on.
It’s Eleven PM: Roosters are crowing, Crickets are chirping and a more than likely slightly intoxicated man is singing lonely spanish love songs somewhere off in the distance. Guatemala is another world. A serenely beautiful one.
Day 2: Guatemala City
Today we filmed the main marketplace in Guatemala. People bustling to and from selling their wares. Its a subterranean mall with dozens upon dozens of small shops with hand made items ranging from leather bags and clothing to food of various sizes and smells. Jim (the EP and illustrious ship captain) purchased a few hand made leather bags that we are going to take back to Rogelio's village: Sumayak. In Sumayak there is a belt maker Rolli used to work for that has fallen on hard times. A talented leather-smith, our hope is he will be able to duplicate bags of a similar nature that we could purchase off of him to sell through a new nonprofit company we're trying to launch called "Third World Trading". The idea is that we would purchase hand made items off of local subsistent economies and resell them for a markup in a place that has a wider market reach, ie the US. These particular leather bags are perfectly suited to contain an iPad and journals, etc. After we recoup our costs we'd send all the profits back to the village. Poverty has a cause, not just symptoms. Hopefully this will treat it.
After the market we drove to the American Embassy. Dozens of Guatemalan's wait everyday at the American Embassy on the miniscule chance that they'll be able to get a visa to come to the US. Both front and back, the Embassy was packed with people desperate for a better life. We did our best to film it, but as with most of Guatemala City, the embassy was staffed with armed security guards. Armed security guards that do not like filming or photography. When I say security guards, mall cop is what comes to mind. I assure you, these are not your average mall cops. These guys are armed to the teeth, most with shotguns and many with assault rifles, and they mean business. They are not exclusive to the Embassy either. They can be seen in the beds of trucks on patrol or standing guard in front of store fronts all over the city. Surprisingly, I've never once felt uncomfortable or unsafe. Every "Buenos Dias" has been kindly returned and met with a smile and a nod. The only snub I've gotten yet was from another American, incidentally the only other one we've seen since we left the Airport.
After the embassy we drove through the slums. Poverty like this I've never seen in real life before. Homes are rarely more than tin shacks strung together for structural support. Nobody in these parts owns the land, they just start building. While that seems like a great idea (who wouldn't want free land?) it unfortunately comes with the unfortunate caveat that there are no building codes, regulations or rules. Add to it that many of these structures are stacked on top of one another and are built on less than sound hillsides, and it leads to a very dangerous existence. One land slide and a couple hundred to a thousand people could easily disappear. The sad and disturbing thought is who would notice if they did? Everything about the area makes you want to look away. They appear forgotten.
At 4:30 we parted ways with Jim. His boat "The Lorena" still had a few days worth of work to do on it before we hopefully set sail on the twelfth. We saw him off to the bus station and filmed our goodbyes. Our foursome has become a trio for the next few days, just Josh, Rolli and I. After visiting the marketplace one more time, and buying more bags for the Leather smith, Rolli took us to the main square in Guatemala City where we got to see a mariachi band play in the street, feed the Palomas (the pigeons) and see Guatemala's main building of governance. The architecture was beautiful, and the people were friendly. It was the perfect end to a busy day.
Michael
After the market we drove to the American Embassy. Dozens of Guatemalan's wait everyday at the American Embassy on the miniscule chance that they'll be able to get a visa to come to the US. Both front and back, the Embassy was packed with people desperate for a better life. We did our best to film it, but as with most of Guatemala City, the embassy was staffed with armed security guards. Armed security guards that do not like filming or photography. When I say security guards, mall cop is what comes to mind. I assure you, these are not your average mall cops. These guys are armed to the teeth, most with shotguns and many with assault rifles, and they mean business. They are not exclusive to the Embassy either. They can be seen in the beds of trucks on patrol or standing guard in front of store fronts all over the city. Surprisingly, I've never once felt uncomfortable or unsafe. Every "Buenos Dias" has been kindly returned and met with a smile and a nod. The only snub I've gotten yet was from another American, incidentally the only other one we've seen since we left the Airport.
After the embassy we drove through the slums. Poverty like this I've never seen in real life before. Homes are rarely more than tin shacks strung together for structural support. Nobody in these parts owns the land, they just start building. While that seems like a great idea (who wouldn't want free land?) it unfortunately comes with the unfortunate caveat that there are no building codes, regulations or rules. Add to it that many of these structures are stacked on top of one another and are built on less than sound hillsides, and it leads to a very dangerous existence. One land slide and a couple hundred to a thousand people could easily disappear. The sad and disturbing thought is who would notice if they did? Everything about the area makes you want to look away. They appear forgotten.
At 4:30 we parted ways with Jim. His boat "The Lorena" still had a few days worth of work to do on it before we hopefully set sail on the twelfth. We saw him off to the bus station and filmed our goodbyes. Our foursome has become a trio for the next few days, just Josh, Rolli and I. After visiting the marketplace one more time, and buying more bags for the Leather smith, Rolli took us to the main square in Guatemala City where we got to see a mariachi band play in the street, feed the Palomas (the pigeons) and see Guatemala's main building of governance. The architecture was beautiful, and the people were friendly. It was the perfect end to a busy day.
Michael
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Day 1: Murphy's Law
Every production wishes to start off on the best foot possible. You plan for contingencies. You buy spare parts. You pack and you repack. You lift your bags and realize you have to carry them for a month, and the stress on your back just isn't worth that extra pair of pants. You repack again. You drive from Phoenix to Los Angeles and make plans to leave. You say your goodbyes. You feel ready. No matter how prepared you are, or what you plan for, somebody always invites Murphy to the show.
Murphy's Law states that whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. Typically, whatever will go wrong, is something you couldn't possibly have planned for. It's June 6th, and our day in Los Angeles is spent busy. We drove all over town grabbing establishing shots to use for later in our episode. From a Home Depot in Culver City to a beautiful wide shot of the surrounding Los Angeles area from atop the Hollywood Hills, we were moving. Despite my Cinematographer's intensifying head cold, we pushed on.
It's June 7th. My cinematographer Josh Gill and I have a plane to catch at 10am at LAX to Dallas for our connecting flight to Guatemala. At one thirty in the morning, Josh's cold decided to become a severe ear infection which culminated in his ear drum rupturing in the back of a friend's car.
After an hour of sleep, a trip to the Emergency Room, antibiotics and rush hour traffic, we made it to LAX with no time to spare. If we hadn't made it through security in 10 minutes, we would not have made our flight. Favor shined on the meek, however, and disheveled and tired we have arrived.
Today we see Guatemala City with our new friend and official guide/translator/keep us out of trouble guy Rogelio Ortiz. Tomorrow, we head to Rogelio's village.
The adventure has begun.
Today we see Guatemala City with our new friend and official guide/translator/keep us out of trouble guy Rogelio Ortiz. Tomorrow, we head to Rogelio's village.
The adventure has begun.
Michael
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Common Ground: Guatemala
My name is Michael Lee Peterson and I'm a filmmaker from the United States. Join me as I ship out on the first adventure to many in a new television pilot called 'Common Ground'. The series follows me as I sail south of our borders on the sailing vessel the "Lorena" with the ship's captain Jim Gregory, his wife and ship doc Lois, and his friend and stalwartly first mate Rogelio on a journey to put a face and a heart on the rest of the World. The Human Race shares a common ancestry, and though our culture's clash and our perspectives on the world differ most of the time, we must share some Common Ground. That's what we're out to find.
This blog is an attempt to collect my thoughts, gain insights and share new perspectives as I broaden my horizons with this wonderful band of people. Our first stop is Guatemala. Coincidently, it also happens to be Rogelio's home. Rogelio is an amazing young Guatemalan man with a unique story. In our first episode, we're looking to tell it. Join us on this wonderful adventure, and spread the word!
Michael
This blog is an attempt to collect my thoughts, gain insights and share new perspectives as I broaden my horizons with this wonderful band of people. Our first stop is Guatemala. Coincidently, it also happens to be Rogelio's home. Rogelio is an amazing young Guatemalan man with a unique story. In our first episode, we're looking to tell it. Join us on this wonderful adventure, and spread the word!
Michael
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