Journals

I was attacked by a hideous snot monster and have been pretty ill for the last two days. Martina and Nerri stopped by mi casa yesterday with a giant bag of oranges for vitC and well wishes. Mi abuela and Antonio have been bringing me warmed, fresh squeezed lemon juice and hot tea morning, noon, and night. She yells at me if I walk around in only socks because I’ll catch a chill.  Jeff just searched 3 cafes until finding me here in El Cuartito . He was worried. I stopped by la farmacia early today to purchase some nasal spray (which by the way, was extremely gratifying even though I felt like death, because I was successfully able to describe my symptoms, ask for nasal spray, distinguish between two types, and ask the pharmacist if it's okay to take my allergy medicine in addition to the spray entirely in Spanish!). I realized I needed to return to my casa for more quetzales—short by only 2$. Bummer. Just as I exited the farmacia , Hugo, my school's director, and Luvi happened to be walking by; Hugo spotted me 20Q. It’s the little things.   When Martina and I were packing at the Lake to return to Xela , I caught myself thinking, I can't wait to go home. Home in Xela . Don't get me wrong, I miss everyone in the States, (and wish Shane, Stevie, and Stella were here) but I'm really sad to leave Xela and shortly after, Guate . I can speak the language. I know my way around. I know how to catch a chicken bus. I know what drinks to order and what eateries to avoid. I've mastered bartering. I eat hand-made tortillas everyday and everyday I intermingle with (or at least gaze sight upon) ancient customs that survived time. I've become accustomed to round-the-clock bombas . I've made great friends. My homestay family has taken me in as one of their own and I've reciprocated. Less than a month ago these people were strangers and now, I can honestly say that I have love for them. I've met amazing people from Israel, Germany, Norway, Australia, Korea, China, Boston, Washington, Mexico, New Zealand, I wake up every morning surrounded by volcanoes and palms. I have a thousand stories in my head waiting to be written. I’ll be writing about Guate for months after my return. There just isn’t enough time to get it all down. Wish I had more time here. I look forward to sleeping on my feather bed, taking 20-minute-long hot showers, supermarkets, 24-hr/day internet access, driving my car, and drinking tap water. But still, I’m going to miss this place and these people more than I could have anticipated.   Soon I’ll post about the primary purpose of my trip—to learn about, and help in some small way, the humanitarian crisis of violence against women that exists here. It won’t be pretty. This isn’t paradise. Nonetheless, I’m pretty struck by how attached I’ve become.   I’ve been forced far and away from my comfort zone. Not going to lie, initially, it sucks quite a bit. But, I’ve learned a lot about myself. Jeff once said that it takes a lifetime to get to know oneself. Well, I have Guate to thank for leaps and bounds in that process.