Al Fin (In the End)

The interior of Honduras has given my trip a welcome blast of adventure. The scenery is spectacular and the town of Copan Ruinas is beautiful and refreshing. After a week of muggy island living, the afternoon rains are a nice change of pace. This morning I got up early and visited the Copan Ruins, which is an unsettlingly tranquil spot filled with elaborate Mayan architecture. This settlement was the most important one in Honduras for a long time and it is famous for producing the stone sculptures that are found throughout the region. Wandering around the town is also fun because it has a distinctly different feeling than life in Guatemala, even though the boarder is a few miles off. Along with the excitement of this new discovery comes the feeling that it is impossible to see enough of Central America, to dive deeply enough into the life of it's people, or to understand the systems of government, nature, and society all converging under the same sky. 

There was an amazing book store in Antigua that I stumbled across and I wanted to read every book on the shelf about this place and its painful history, which would inevitably lead me on an intellectual journey across the world and through the human psyche. An overwhelming thought is just how many different regions of the world there are out there to 

explore, with parallel complexities and histories to this small piece of the whole. Each day, billions of people are experiencing life in an infinite amount of ways, and I can't help but observe how powerfully our lives are influenced by where and to whom we are born and be inspired by the incredible strength of people all over the world who are finding their own innovative ways of changing their condition. My good friend wrote these words when we were fourteen: "If something is etched in stone, all you need is a little dynamite." She has given me strength to believe that there will always be people who will find a way to overcome even the most atrocious injustices, and I am bearing witness to that in Central America today.

One more quote, but this one is in Spanish: "La vida is corta, pero ancha." Literally, "Life is short, but broad." Just how "broad," or deep, life actually is seems to be  a matter of how we seize it, how we process our experiences, and who we have to remember our moments with. This trip, although it is at its end, seems to be unfolding more with every day. It will be a part of the direction of my life, as is the case with everything we do. It is nice to look at the end of something so moving as this adventure on foreign soil and see it as an opening. It makes me blink away those silly nostalgic feelings that make leaving difficult. And so, it with these open-ended feelings and reflective thoughts that I smile more freely than before and step with a little more energy in the direction of home.

Unraveling in Utila, Honduras

I´m in love. In the past few days I have spent nearly as much time under water as above, and I am completely enthralled by the world down there. It has been many years since I felt so excited or passionate about a new activity, but this is truly unique. Admittedly, I just got scuba certified in one of the world´s most beautiful diving spots. What has been most exciting about it is seeing the same kinds of organisms under water here that we are familiar with back on Catalina but in different variations. Since it´s not really possible to jump up and down with excitement in water, I was swirling around and doing flips down there, just enjoying the feeling of being suspended in water and observing a new world. The impressive quality about the fish and other critters down there is that they just let you stick your face right up close to them and observe, often without fleeing if you approach carefully. I found myself thanking them yesterday for giving me the opportunity to see life in a different way. Maybe that was the nitrogen narcosis, but either way, it was close to something spiritual.

Can I list a few of the things I saw without boring the reader? The list is impressive: turtles, sting rays, moray eels, squid, nudibranchs, fireworms, comb jellies (they really exist! unbelievable!), sea horses, christmas tree worms (really big ones), jellyfish, parrotfish, sponges and corals, tiny fish that hide in holes, anemones, flatfish, and the list goes on and on. We logged all of our dives, so the geeky ocean explorers out there who are interested can hear more details later. It is just like Finding Nemo, where you are there on this reef and then sometimes it just drops off into open blue ocean. It is so fun to watch everything interacting-- to watch fish feeding on plankton, to

 find their homes in crevices, to see a sea horse wrap around some algae to keep from floating away. I´m just so excited!

When I got here Monday, Meagan and Courtney greeted me and we dropped my stuff off at 

their house and jumped directly onto the boat for a snorkel. Then Tuesday was a theory day and Wednesday the diving began. It took some serious concentration, and trust in my lovely 

instructor Meagan, to pull my mask off and put it back on under water. That was challenging. It brought on this panicky feeling but I´m getting over it slowly as I get more comfortable 

breathing underwater. Between Wednesday morning and Friday at noon, I went on 8 dives, including the grand finale, which was a deep dive where we went down to 100 feet. That felt just about like 40 feet, but the bag of chips that Meagan brought down was totally compacted and I know I was supposed to think of my lungs and remember to always keep breathing. Scuba diving could be a form of therapy because you never ever stop breathing slowly and steadily. Anxiety or distress are just not options. Every movement is slow, deliberate, and calm.

This weekend is all about rejuvinating and enjoying the relaxation of being in the arms of good friends in a beautiful place. We celebrated a friend´s birthday last night by treating her to a 

sunset sail around the bay. We laughed for an hour and a half straight with our German guide and then made our way into town to continue the celebration. My hosts have been the 

most gracious you could ask for and the week here has flown by. The unraveling that has taken place for me is the best kind, just like falling in love where you let yourself relax into something much bigger than yourself. I guess I let the whole mellow feeling get away with me the other night when I left my wallet in the bar. It only had 50 cents in there and some lip gloss, so no big deal, but I´m going to have to readjust for the departure. Well, what more can you ask for in life than this? I guess I´ll have to leave soon, but even then, the journey to come sounds amazing: visiting some ancient ruins on the way back to Antigua where I will get ready to fly out. (Make any requests now before the bags are filled!) And the further adventure of returning to my beautiful home, great friends, and amazing job keeps me feeling positive even about the end of this amazing journey.

Giving Way

The women in El Salvador certainly did not waste any time shedding whatever traditional or conservative clothing their ancestors may have once worn. The number of indigenous people still alive in El Salvador is very low, and the conservatism of the mountains of Guatemala gives way to a steamy coastal lifestyle here. By far the most entertaining thing about being here are the bus rides. There is a custom here of exploiting the opportunity that the buses provide to sell, sell, sell! So every time the bus stops (or almost stops), on jump hoards of ladies in tight tank tops and short skirts toting any number of local foods, plus children selling water and cold juices, and men from the market trying to sell you an ice cream or a bag of cucumbers. You can eat very well on a bus. My favorite treat was the fresh coconut sorbet they I got on one particularly hot day on the way to the city.

San Salvador itself seems like an interesting place to explore... worlds apart from Guatemala City, where I did not really even consider getting out of the colectivo. El Salvador catches some bad press for its gang activities that account for most of the country´s high murder rate. Mostly, it is like gang activity in the US where you don´t even see it if you are not involved in that life. There are much more dangerous places to travel, that is clear. People here are generally warm, open, and very candid once they get talking. They also seem to have a business savvy that functions very well.

There is a striking contrast between Guatemala and El Salvador not just in the attire and overall culture that is dominated by Latino influences, but also in the development rate. Here there are shiny new malls, modern roads, and billboards prompting us to throw our trash in the bin to keep El Salvador beautiful. Here you find a country that is really ready to jump into the modern world full swing since they have little to tie them to a traditional past. That is the impression, at least. I really wanted to jump off the bus up in the mountains and explore the lush green hills and remote towns to see how they differ from the coast, but alas, the journey goes on, and much about this country will remain a mystery.

Yes!

There is no way to describe the past week in the time I have, so I´m just writing to say that I´m here in Utila with Meagan and Courtney (good ol´ island friends) and just completed my first scuba dive! I will write more in a bit, but wanted you all to know that I am happier than ever and having a great time here in Honduras. More to come soon,
H

Frog in the Shower, Dog in the WC

... and happy to report that there are no scorpions in my bed, yet. The frog in the shower, I understand, but the dog sleeping next to the toilet? Not sure what that´s all about, but I could have guessed it because the little WC smells just like a barn and I am grateful that it is outside. This is where I am staying, and it´s great so far. We could have opted for the luxurious yet rustic resort next door, complete with a swimming pool, restaurant, surfboards and surf classes. But we can use all of their services anyway, so we might as well pay less to sleep. This is El Salvador. It is certainly a lot more raw than Guatemala so far, and I wish I had more time to spend here.Yesterday I attempted to surf. It´s been a while and after a few hours trying, I was actually able to ride a few waves in. Well, do you call surging whitewash a ¨wave¨? I´m gonna count it as that because the waves themselves scare me. They are like our biggest days on the island, with that same close-out nature. I could have sworn I was pulled out a bit in a small rip current yesterday. It was around the time that I found myself uncomfortably close to the bigger waves without trying at all. Good thing I spent so much time looking at the Oceanfront Lifeguarding book last spring. I did read this morning that there plenty of rips here, but I´m not so worried about them. For the most part, the water is much more pleasant than I´m used to, with gentler wave action and almost too warm! Did I really say that?

So what am I doing in a cyber cafe if the surfing is so great? Well, first of all, it takes all my might to paddle around out there since I´m not talented at this sport, so I need the rest. Secondly, my face go burned yesterday, despite my efforts to plaster on the sunblock. It´s 

unavoidable, unless you just take a break from the sun. Anyway, it´s fun exploring town a little and seeing what the locals are up to. Over time, I feel as though my writing is degenerating into train of thought sentences. I really don´t talk much here, so I´m in a similar state verbally, caught between languages and long hours of letting my mind wander. I have been reading a book on Rigoberta Menchu that was left on the island (Kenny?) and the story is staggering. She is a Mayan woman who grew up in the 60´s and 70´s in Guatemala, and you would think she was writing from a hundred years ago or more. The stories of the oppression of the Mayan people and poor ladinos are beyond what I could have imagined. After overcoming countless barriers in her life, she ran for president last year without victory in a newly created indigenous party. Talk about overcoming. My next text is in Spanish and is also about the history of Guatemala.

The restaurant service here is really different from what I am accustomed to. You have to place an order at least an hour before you want to eat. Does this mean that everything is very freshly 

made? I think so, because a few weeks ago when I was visiting the market in Santiago with some teachers, the other students were using the old joke, ¨Are they out there killing the chicken or what?¨ Well, just about a minute later, the waitress came bustling in with some eggs from the market to make our breakfast. This is the norm. I watched a woman at a fresh fruit stand run across the 

street for more sugar when she ran out in Guatemala City. And a while ago some friends commented that they had never gotten into a collectivo without stopping for gas on the way out of town. Well, I thought that it was pretty great the other day in San Salvador when even the taxi had to stop at the gas station before bringing us to the bus station a few miles away! Is it a hand to mouth existence or just a cultural quirk?

I may not have time to write again until I am up in Honduras next week. If not, enjoy your weekends! People only sort-of have those here, which has put our whole work system into a new perspective for me. Life is work. You can work for vacations, work for more money, work for a nicer home, work to travel, or work just simply to put food on the table. Being here has certainly made me want to learn so much more about how this society was created and what the nuances are between each part of Latin America. I could go on and on traveling and never get the full answer. But one thing I have been wondering: has anyone written ¨The Bicycle Diaries¨ yet? That would be a good story about this place. I´m sure it´s been done. Although I do not know much about El Salvador, beyond what is in Lonely Planet, the use of the US Dollar as currency speaks volumes. The dollar?? It says ¨United States of America¨ right on it. Oh, that´s right. We gave them over $6 billion not so long ago to aid in the further repression of the poor majority to rise up and be treated humanely. I probably should not simplify what I don´t know much about, but I imagine it was just easier to phase out their old currency and keep ours.

No Middle Road

Climbing Volcano Pacaya was like a Sunday walk in the park after Volcano San Pedro, but it was a whole different experience. Our guide, Ronny, was a rather humorous fellow and mentioned that we couldn't climb all the way to the top because the ground on the way up is not firm and you could fall through into the volcano. Fine, he said, if you like marshmallows. Ha ha. Seriously, you could not pay me to climb this thing any higher than we did. As it was, we were scrambling over lava so fresh that it was melting our shoes and impassable unless you ran in some spots. People were literally pointing and commenting to each other about my choice of footwear: Chaco sandals. Those were fine for me, but what I have been lamenting is not bringing shaving cream, but as Jon mentioned, I could just singe my leg hairs as he did. I have footage of this thing spewing out some rocks that created small avalanches on their way down. Apparently, last week some tourists only escaped being hit by boulders "by sheer luck." It was very mellow for us today, thankfully. But if you are not worried about being robbed at gunpoint anymore there, you are concerned you might sink through into the hot lava or get hit by a rock, or worse, get buried under another eruption (the last one was two years ago.) I have to laugh at my safety-paranoid American mentality. There were so many tourists up there with us, so it can't be that dangerous, but then again, couldn't it be? I wonder how much of a warning they get before an eruption happens... Is it like an earthquake where you have time to evacuate? Something to ponder.

One of my many revelations yesterday on the ride to Antigua was that my dad's cows are the luckiest cows in the world-- grazing happily on fresh green grass in the summer without a care in the world. Some of the things I observed on the drive: A group of guys picking up their motorcycles and shaking off the pain of a collision, two dead dogs in the road, the saddest cows I've seen tied up by the roadside in the strangest of places, two kids riding double up a massive hill on a bicycle in jeans and t-shirts, and whole families strolling through beautiful countryside with loads balanced on their heads in obscure parts of the highway. There is a lot more, but the bottom line is that the Highlands part of the country is truly caught between worlds. If the first one is the Latino culture and the second one is the Mayan culture, then I think I would like to make a motion to add a third world: it is us. The traveler, the "gringo" (I hate that word), the ones with loads of money and expensive gear. How are we changing this place? What is the hidden cost of tourism?

Down here back in Antigua, I feel like I am looking into the future of Guatemala, with nice paved and cobblestone roads, hip restaurants, and painted buildings. The difference is that very little of Guatemala will ever see the money this place sees. My perspective on this town is drastically different from when I first arrived. Then, I saw a place that was trying to be posh but still developing. Now I see luxury all around me. What has changed? Perhaps it was a month in a Mayan pueblo that made me see life through a slightly new lens. I miss the friendly greetings from everyone up in the mountains but I am basking in the glow of development. Will you hate me for loving my hot shower last night and Thai food today? I feel so conflicted, but that is nothing new. What I want to buy most of all is a bar of natural hand-made soap I found (a diamond in the rough here) that costs 30Q ($4). I could buy a meal for that, or a night in a hostel, or a 4 hour bus ride. I want to buy it to send the message to keep producing things like this. Supply and demand will eventually bring the price down, right? It makes me feel like I am 20 again to struggle with such a decision. In reality, my actions here should reflect my ethics almost moreso than back at home. I am going to buy the darn soap. Better that the person who made it by hand gets the money (and the water stays chemical free) than giving my money to a factory process.

Buena Suerte

Graduation took place at the school today for the four of us who are departing after about a month here in San Pedro. We had to prepare a ¨discurso¨ upon receiving our certificates, so I rambled on for a few minutes in Spanish. I felt true sympathy for the folks who were shaking up there while reading their papers and simultaneously felt grateful that at least I´m accustomed to the miserable feeling of standing up in front of much larger crowds than this. The general form that the speeches take is to thank everyone for the great adventure, which I did. But I also felt compelled to appreciate the structure of the school because it provides the opportunity to learn the language through immersion in the culture. The experience exceeded my expectations by far, and I recommend the San Pedro Spanish School to anyone interested in similar experience.

My housemate, Jon, and I also received diplomas for our volunteer work with the students this week. It was all very formal, considering the unstructured nature of the week. Three young students stood up and individually thanked us with a brief speech, and then implored us to talk too. We felt very emotional about the whole thing for a second, but I guess they do that every week. Jon bought them a soccer ball to replace the ragged one they played with all week. After a rocky start on Monday, we quickly developed a rapport with these students and I was again reminded of why I love what I do.

There are so many times when I wish my camera would upload its contents and today is no exception. With the 18 students, we collected 10 large bags of trash yesterday on the way to a nice swimming beach. The kids cheerfully carried the bags back to school after swimming and listened attentively as I described to them what happens to plastic in the environment. A friend once told me that many people here just don´t realize yet the difference between the things they threw on the ground in the past (biodegradable) and the things we manufacture now. The whole concept that something will not biodegrade is new within the past few generations and they just need to understand the affects of plastic and other materials on the environment. I asked them to please tell their family and friends how much easier it would be to put the stuff 

in the trash in the first place rather than collect it later. The kids were so enthusiastic about the process that a man came down from his house to thank us for our work. His words were this: ¨I don´t know what you did, but I´m watching the same kids who would normally throw trash on the ground searching for trash to pick up. I guess I was pessimistic. I thought it would take three generations to change things, but here you are making it happen today. Thank you.¨ Of course I told him, ¨Yes, we are making it happen in this generation.¨ What more could I ask for?

There is only one day left in San Pedro and a relaxing night across the water, and then it´s time 

to face the open road on a chicken bus. These things are really wild... old school buses painted in much nicer colors than yellow and with absolutely no exhaust regulations. I´m distributing my stuff into different bags and pockets so that I won´t loose everything if one item gets snagged. I don´t like thinking that way, but I´ve heard too many stories. This time next week, I hope to be surfing in El Salvador, but we will see! The phrase of the day seems to be, ¨Buena suerte¨ as we all say our goodbyes to people we may never see again but have grown to consider friends. Now that I feel equipped with the language skills to navigate this adventure, I guess the rest really is up to luck, which I feel is on my side.