Surf, roll, repeat or. . . my week training BJJ in Mexico.
Back in April, I spent a week in Puerto Escondido, Mexico training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, surfing, and surprisingly for me, drinking more coconut water than beer. Ok, maybe not more, but probably the same amount. Alright, maybe slightly fewer coconuts than beers. Fine, so I had like 5 coconuts, and probably 15 beers. Don't judge me, I was on vacation!
This whole excursion into paradise was planned/facilitated by a former teammate from Connecticut and some friends in Mexico, to provide old training partners of ours in Connecticut, and as it turned out, all over the US, Caribbean and Mexico, an opportunity to train with each other in a surfer's paradise in Oaxaca, Mexico.
I could write a whole post about each of the people I met and how much I enjoyed getting to know them all, but I'll summarize by saying I felt the same way about them as I do about all my old training partners in Connecticut and my new ones Portland. They're all really great, fun, friendly people who I am honored to be choked by. The picture below was in our open air gym that the four brothers (coincidentally, the 2 men to my left and the two to my right) who hosted us created. Not pictured: a beautiful pool behind us, the ocean in front, and a cooler full of coconuts and coronas to the right.
Before class each morning, we had a surf lesson. These started out as a fairly large group, which got whittled down to a couple die hards. Me, and my roommate, Craig. We shared a room, but also waves, as you can see below. Having this much time on the board, plus having instructors out there helped me big time, as I progressed from my starting point: Keanu Reeves at the beginning of Point Break, to my current level: the part where he's bringing his longboard into the office, but still sort of acts like a poser.
Craig (foreground) and I (background) surfing a point break in Puerto Escondido
After the morning class we'd break for lunch, and then meet up later for another class in the early evening. Next was usually a group dinner wherever they didn't mind pushing 8 tables together for us.
We are mega table. Bring us all of your chairs.
The instructors for this camp consisted of my first teacher, Master Marcio Stambowsky, who I would need to write an entire separate post to introduce properly. Suffice it to say, it was great learning from him again, this time with greater appreciation thanks to a couple more years of experience that widened my perspective. When you are brand new at something, like I was when I started training with him, you can't appreciate the depth of someone's comprehension of the subject. I still don't think I can.
Photo by Taylor Gracie
Other instructors were Brad Wolfson and Kroyler Gracie who each run their own schools in Connecticut and Indiana, respectively, and Cesar Osario who came down from the city of Oaxaca to instruct.
Kroyler demonstrating a super secret move that I can't tell you about, with help from Brad (top)
Photo by Taylor Gracie
But, we also did other cool stuff! Like, going to a sea turtle sanctuary where we released endangered baby sea turtles and watched them crawl into the surf. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of them. Just kidding! I have video!
But this trip got really interesting after I missed my connecting flight in Mexico City. I will summarize how this happened, thusly: When the airport posts a departure time that is later than what is on your boarding pass, just go to the gate and double check on the delay. Otherwise you might show up 30 min before the "new" departure time, only to find that it actually left on time, and you are stranded in the airport overnight. I was upset. With the airport, but also myself for not being more vigilant. Though I know he was just trying to make me feel better, It didn't help when the ticket agent booking my new flight told me, "This happens all the time. This airport is messed up."
Then I remembered: "Hey, Aarón lives here!". Hadn't seen the guy since he moved to Mexico City a couple years ago, and frankly, I should have planned a layover into the trip anyways. I shot him a Facebook message and took the least expensive Uber trip of my life into the city to meet him. He took me to a street market in his neighborhood of coyacán for some quesadillas, which did not resemble any quesadilla I'd ever seen, but you know, I figured they knew what they were doing. Here's a really flattering picture of it, no, those are not all my Cokes.
Then, we had some drinks, and just talked shop, you know, NBD.
Talking air guitar with the one and only Dry Ice
It sounded like this camp is going to happen again next year. I'll be there, for sure. And this time, I won't miss my flight. Or. . . maybe I will.