Worst rest days ever. I don’t know what I have or who I got it from but I think I’ve almost kicked this thing. What started out as a headache has worked its way down my poor body in a rather systematic manner: headache, runny nose, sore throat, coughing and then stomach problems (won’t go into details). I tried walking around today to get some fresh air and didn’t do too bad. There’s a church at the top of a huge hill that I wanted to see but I gave up half way. Didn’t have the energy for it.

Lot’s of people out enjoying the nice weather. The market was crazy. Not a good place for tall people though. Glad I was wearing my bike helmet. Just kidding.

There are a lot of people struggling to survive here which is sobering when you’re strolling around with a nice camera and a full stomach. There was a guy sitting in one of the aisles at the market with his leg extended out. He had a really bad case of elephantiasis on it and I doubt he could even walk. The indigenous people, mostly of Mayan descent, have tonnes of sidewalk booths set up where they sell everything from blankets to jewelry. There are just so many you have to wonder if entire days go by where they don’t sell anything.

The hippy/dreadlocks people here are a bit wacko. I can’t tell where they’re from but I don’t think it’s the States. One pair was playing a set of drums outside a church while a hippy girl spun around some rope or something. Really? It seems a bit tacky to me to travel to a developing country and try to hit people up for loose change so you can keep traveling the world. Maybe its just me though. Besides the hippies the other foreigners here, of which there are quite a few, seem to stay pretty low key.

Tourism has definitely left its mark on the people that live in the main historical area of the city though. For the first time someone made a snide comment when I couldn’t explain in Spanish what I wanted. It was a guy in a bike shop and after spending all of 15 seconds trying to tell him I wanted a bike tube he walked over to get it and muttered “Spanish” under his breath. Fair enough–not speaking the language very well sucks but give me a break. It’s not like I was being demanding about it and it was kind of obvious I’d traveled a long way so there shouldn’t be an expectation that I know every word in the language. If I encountered a foreigner traveler in the States or Canada and they couldn’t speak English it wouldn’t even cross my mind to be anything but helpful. If I was living here totally different story. Of course you never really know what experiences he’s had with people before me so I’m sure that played into it. Pete had a similar experience with some seemingly anti-gringo sentiment and that guy speaks Spanish better then anyone I know. On a positive note, one good thing about this place is that almost no one stares at me (except the ladies). I kind of miss the small towns now.

I also haven’t seen anyone since I got here. I had to bail on seeing Roland/Belinda and Karin/Marten this morning and Pete left this morning and I didn’t get to see him either. If I got any of them sick I’d feel horrible.