Thursday, August 25, 2005
The International Perspective
Thought I'd start out the almost certainly painful process of sharing my vacation photos (much like your Aunt Agnes with her slide projector, except my language is much cleaner) with some images from the ancient city of Chicken Itza (which only sounds like something you'd order at the Kenny Rogers' Roasters) . If I'd listened more carefully to our tour guide, I could give you a lot of background information, but I was really distracted by the unfortunate prepoderance of people wearing denim shorts and by the fact that our tour guide had actively made fun of me for hitting my head against one of the tvs hanging from the ceiling of the bus. (The pain from this incident was only intensified by the fact that we were forced to watch Bruce Almighty on our way back to the resort.) So all I can really tell you is that Chicken Itza is like, well, real old and shit. And that they allow people to panhandle throughout it.
Here is the view from the top of the main temple. See why I was freaking out? There's like four hundred morons in fannypacks pushing and shoving behind me while I take this. And the ancient Mayans were definitely not ADA compliant.
I bask in my triumphant conquest of the temple. Okay, so I basically crawled down while clutching a rope and sobbing like a baby, but that's how they express triumph in some cultures, right?
A detailed carving, purportedly the work product of the ancient Mayans, although I swear I saw an Arby's in there towards the back. Mmmm, horsey sauce.
The observatory at Chicken Itza, as viewed from a desperate huddle underneath a tree in a driving rainstorm. In what only the tour guide viewed as a hilarious coincidence, many of the carvings here honor the rain god. That bastard.
Thought I'd start out the almost certainly painful process of sharing my vacation photos (much like your Aunt Agnes with her slide projector, except my language is much cleaner) with some images from the ancient city of Chicken Itza (which only sounds like something you'd order at the Kenny Rogers' Roasters) . If I'd listened more carefully to our tour guide, I could give you a lot of background information, but I was really distracted by the unfortunate prepoderance of people wearing denim shorts and by the fact that our tour guide had actively made fun of me for hitting my head against one of the tvs hanging from the ceiling of the bus. (The pain from this incident was only intensified by the fact that we were forced to watch Bruce Almighty on our way back to the resort.) So all I can really tell you is that Chicken Itza is like, well, real old and shit. And that they allow people to panhandle throughout it.
Here is the view from the top of the main temple. See why I was freaking out? There's like four hundred morons in fannypacks pushing and shoving behind me while I take this. And the ancient Mayans were definitely not ADA compliant.
I bask in my triumphant conquest of the temple. Okay, so I basically crawled down while clutching a rope and sobbing like a baby, but that's how they express triumph in some cultures, right?
A detailed carving, purportedly the work product of the ancient Mayans, although I swear I saw an Arby's in there towards the back. Mmmm, horsey sauce.
The observatory at Chicken Itza, as viewed from a desperate huddle underneath a tree in a driving rainstorm. In what only the tour guide viewed as a hilarious coincidence, many of the carvings here honor the rain god. That bastard.
