and just one last weekend in Guate...

our trip back on Sunday was brutal. my stomach was in a lot of pain and the hours of windy, bumpy bus rides were rough. by the time i got in bed, back in Santa Lucia, my fever was at 103 degrees. my sample sent in to the lab tells them i have some sort of bacterial stomach infection; i'm barely eating. today i'm "home" sick again, and more homesick than ever. i received a letter from my ex-boyfriend and also heard that one of my closest volunteer friends might be going back to the States. it's hard to love this life right now. hard to feel "lucky" and hard to not want more than anything to be home.

***

Feeling much better. i treated my traveling buddies to Domino's pizza- it's a luxury here. my close friend is gone; she's the 6th trainee in our group to leave Belize so far. this isn't for everyone.

***

tonight i joined my host mom at an Independence Day school performance. the kids were adorable- Andrea was a dancing monkey, all in black, black paint on her face. the monkey children shook maracas, devoured actual bananas, and swung their tails. it was hilarious and i had a good laugh with her Grandma. Guate has been breathtaking, amazing, unforgettable... we have one last weekend left here. but i'm ready to be back home... in Belize.

***

in Antigua with a handful of friends, we find ourselves at a bar where i fall in love with a member of the Buena Vista Social Club. this old man could play drums like he wasn't a day over 20, dancing and belting his beautiful songs, but with the talent and ease of someone who has done it for a lifetime. i got 2 hugs and kisses out of him; it was a magical evening of the music that moves me. i was so happy to be dancing in my seat, in that moment, watching someone so happily share his talents. i would've been content if that night never ended.

in the morning, 8 of us piled into a shuttle, headed back to Monte Rico for Independence Day celebrations on the beach. it was an afternoon of wine and conversation and wandering from the cabana to the hot blacksand beach to the hammocks to the pool to the Pacific... we danced to a Cuban salsa band and drank mojitos as the sun went down, burning pink. we had plans to go out and celebrate that night, but a fierce storm arrived; the loudest cracks of thunder, flash after flash of lightning, and a drizzle that quickly became a downpour. we found shelter in our cabana (this guy holds this particular dorm-like hut for backpackers and PeaceCorps kids), and the electricity quickly went out. we sat on all the beds, one candle glowing in the center of the room, and had random conversations in the form of the game "Truth." this weekend has been relaxing; lots of reading and resting.

***

coming back from MonteRico, we took the little boat to Avellana, and then spent the longest leg of the trip, from there to Esquintla, in a van that was so tattered and slow, spewing black clouds of exhaust and clunking with every gearshift, i swore there was no way it would get us to our destination. it was hot and packed (we had something like 26 people crammed into an 8-person van?), and the only ventilation was the permanently opened side door. somehow i managed to get some reading done; my friend squinged up next to me swore he was going to die.
the trip from Esquintla to Antigua, pushed against a window, going from sticky hot to pouring rain. a few of us stopped at a joint in Antigua to catch some NFL and good tourist food- i'm finally eating again.
i found out from home that my mom has broken her hip and dislocated her shoulder, and has been in the hospital now for about a week. while the situation seems minor enough, it's hard not being home right now for her...

***

the group had a "last supper" at a nice restaurant in Antigua wednesday night. amazing food. i left after ordering and called my mom at the hospital; she didn't sound good and the idea of her having to be tested for bone cancer makes my head spin. she's a breast cancer survivor, and it's just a broken hip... but she needs someone home with her full time when she's released. dad's got work, my sister's got GradSchool... i feel like i need to be there. i hung up and managed to enjoy every bite and sip in front of me at the grand table... followed by watching a mellow band at the Rainbow Room one last time.
we'll spend one night in Guatemala City, at that gorgeous HowardJohnson, before flying away from this wonderous place. back to our new families and homes and jobs in Belize.

the adventure continues...

(*I apologize for taking so long to update this thing... I'm months behind. I'll try working on that...)

following our magnificent volcano/beach weekend, i got sick. Tuesday morning. fever of 102... which meant missing class... which meant missing discussion (in Spanish) of Venezuelan politics with a side of Bob Dylan and Miles Davis ambience music. also missed word getting back to my traveling buddies that it was reported that "a group of hippies was seen leaving the compound last Friday." oh mom would be so proud. random visits throughout the day from those traveling buddies of mine.
this morning, fever at full force, the Spanish was too much. i couldn't comprehend it and it took great effort to form the one sentence i did my best to repeat: tengo un fiebre de 102 y necesito llamar la escuela.
my dresser is strewn with medication- most of it delivered by a training center employee this morning. while i'm relieved that my fever has subsided, i hate feeling medicated like this. i want to crawl out of my skin. i'm sleeping a lot and thinking about my bed back home.

***

it's Saturday morning, and I'm swinging in a hammock on the second story of our Q15/night hotel in San Pedro. last night we arrived in Panajachel.

traveling buddies and i left the training center Friday afternoon, catching a bus to Antigua in search of a bus to Chimaltenango. once there we got off and waited in a sea of madness at La Cruce. a mass of people waiting around us, a mess of cars honking and darting, the shouts of the bus ayudantes. after waiting in this chaotic purgatory, a bus that didn't say any of the right towns assured us it would get us where we wanted to go. that was good enough for us.
and the bus was packed. amazingly, i was able to find a "seat"... though it was actually more painful to balance myself on 6inches of seat, stabling myself through all the swerves, than to just stand. as i stood, my knee propped on the seat, the Mayan woman next to me fell asleep, a mirror image of the child she clutched in her arms. his little hand eventually plopped down to rest on my knee. while the moment was sweet and left me smiling, one stop opened up the seat to my other side and i gladly took it. one of my friends moved in to balance between the two seats and i was pushed into an older man wearing a cowboy hat- my shoulder fit perfectly in his armpit.
a few more buses and we were spiraling downwards after a massive climb. the view was literally breathtaking. Lake Atitlan is surrounded by green mountains, a few purple grey volcanoes, scattered towns, and low clouds. regardless of still feeling sickly, i was so glad i made this trip.
we found a great cafe at the end of a strip of tourists and their souveneir shops, right by the water. we enjoyed a moonlit view of the amazing lake and its surroundings over tea and veggie fajitas and live jazz. everything is delicious, but i have waves of unpredictable nausea. the fever is gone but i cough throughout the night.
this morning we sat at a small patio table at the motel and breakfasted on beans, oranges, and bread before catching a boat to San Pedro, Guatemala.
in the early morning, the boat ride was magnificent. the peaceful lake. the frigid air. the looming mountains.
and now the crew has departed for another volcano excursion, but my insides have suggested that I stay in my hammock for a solitary day of writing, reading, contemplating.
***

tonight I ate delicious vegetarian food on pillows and rugs at a cafe that played "Dub Side of the Moon." we shared our bottle of wine with the owner and bartender (*one of them gave me a bracelet that i will be wearing months from then, and it will make me smile every time I notice it, reminding me of this night). a live band sets up in front of us and begins playing; later my friend and i chat outside by the water with the musicians, a man selling earrings, and the owner. owner's a man from Indiana and tells me how he used to drop shit off on his brother's front yard to make it look trashy. he went to Purdue for consumer science but then headed to Belize. unable to find what he was looking for, he was making his way to Brazil when he stumbled upon Lake Atitlan and planted himself here. i love hearing people's stories.

we left the cafe and made our way in the darkness along someone's house, through their corn field, down to the dock where we bathed and swam earlier today. we were in search of the moon.
sitting on blankets, we heard the music from our last reality echo off the lake under the stars; part of me listening to our random conversations, most of me enjoying the moon.