Goodbyes are hard when you actually like your life.
I started strongly considering pulling the plug on this trip, even though that was essentially a non-option. Dad would have been a wee bit upset with me and since I have a subletter I would’ve been homeless… Anyway, I wasn’t prepared. At all. Not even a little. Before traveling last year, I spent every waking minute dreaming of my trip. This time, I was spending every waking minute either fuming over my awful old landlord, busily organizing my beautiful new apartment, guzzling wine with Sarah, or wasting away my days with a boy who made it incredibly difficult to say goodbye to Chicago. Needless to say, this time around, my goodbye wasn’t as happy. In fact, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. As I told Sarah, this time last year, I hated everything. Not to sound melodramatic, but I mean it. I hated Chicago. I hated my cramped apartment. I hated working 50 hours a week and then being a little baby about it. Wah, wah, wah, right? The point is, this time, I didn’t hate anything. I love my apartment. I love Chicago, I love my friends, my boyfriend, my dog, my new landlord. EVERYTHING. Try saying goodbye to that. Not so easy.
So after sobbing for literally hours, I finally managed to pack and get into a cab. I made it all the way to O’Hare, finally stopped crying and instead just had a heartbeat that raced faster than that one horse that won all those races this year. You know the one. That fast. I’m waiting in line at security, sending the usual, annoying “I miss you” blah blah blah texts, when the boy calls me to inform me that my dumbass forgot MY WALLET. Just the thing that has all of my money and IDs in it, no big deal. So thankfully he’s a saint and cabbed it all the way to O’Hare to drop it off. Which meant another goodbye. I HATE THOSE THINGS. HATE.
Eventually we made it to the plane. We almost missed our connecting flight but eventually we made it. The guy sitting next to us had long fingernails. You don’t need to know that but it bothered me. BUT there wasn’t a baby on the second flight, so maybe there is a God?
Getting off the plane, it finally sunk in that we were here. All the planning we had done was finally paying off and we were back on the traveling horse that I love so much. In the cab to the bus station, everything looked so foreign and I absolutely loved it. I was back in my element of confusion mixed with excitement, mixed with terror, mixed with absolute wonder. We bought burner phones in the airport for like $15 (That process took us about 40 minutes because we couldn’t understand her and she couldn’t understand us so really we have no idea how many minutes we even have. Good start, guys.). So don’t expect a call from me yet though, we can’t figure them out. BUT we figured them out just enough to call a hostel in Xela and inform them that we’d be arriving a little late. Why would you be late Andi? Your flight got into Guatemala City at 11:30am? If the bus ride to Xela is only 4 hours, you’ll still get there well before dinner! You overestimate us. Instead, we went to the wrong bus station first. By the time we made it to the correct station, we missed the bus we wanted. So we bought a ticket for the next one, took some Dramamine, killed time at a Wendy’s, and eventually got first row seats on a bus to our new home!
The drive was beautiful. It wasn’t anything I had expected, but everything I had hoped for. Mountains surrounded us during the entire drive, and we had an incredible view out the windshield. As the bus would around the twisting and narrow curves, I actually wasn’t even nervous. Pure excitement. Not enough excitement to combat the Dramamine, and I spent most of the drive nodding off and jerking awake. Actually it became a pretty solid twenty minute routine. 10 minutes of nodding off, jerk awake, rub neck for a minute, realize it’s -35 degrees, spend 5 minutes attempting to curl into a ball, spend next five minutes attempting to uncurl because my leg immediately fell asleep. Repeat.
We arrived at our hostel and it was perfect. Everything we could have asked for and more. Vines, flowers, and various plants were everywhere we looked. The terrace on the top floor had an incredible view of downtown and in the morning we got a wonderful breakfast served to us! Of course, I asked for tea and screwed that up… Oh well. I can’t win ‘em all.
After breakfast, we walked a few blocks to the school where we started the day with a few hours of orientation. Then I was promptly introduced to my first teacher. After struggling through 3 hours of straight Spanish (by “straight Spanish” I mean me speaking very choppily with lots of “como se dice….”), we got to meet our host family! Evelyn and I, luckily, get to stay together with the same family and I am in love with our host mother. The house is gorgeous and my only qualm is that it is at the top of a ginormous hill. The 30 pounds of luggage didn’t help the ascent, but at least my ass is going to look great by the end of this. We had an awesome meal with our host mother, her father, her two sons, her sister, her sister’s husband, her sister’s two children, and her two dogs. (Would you like a diagram for this? I would.) They have nicer appliances than I do. Just saying.
After lunch, we headed into town and bought some basic necessities. Ya know, like nail polish and towels. Basics. Then we headed back to the school so I could write this up and mooch off of the wifi and bask in the glory that is currently my life. I miss home like I’ve never missed anything before. Even when I’m beside myself with happiness, a piece of me wishes I could share it with someone from home. This longing doesn’t take away from my happiness, even if it sounds like it does. There’s room in my heart for both. I’m incredibly happy to be here and so lucky to have this opportunity, but I’ll always come home. And for the first time, I’m so in love with what I’m doing and, at the same time, so in love with everything I have waiting for me.
It’s nice to have things to miss. Even though the feeling of missing things is so awful, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Wednesday we’ll go to the natural hot springs. Thursday we have a visit to an old church and speak with a priest. Friday there’s a conference/discussion on racism in Guatemala and a cooking class. Next Saturday, we’ll head off to visit a volcano. In between, I’ll struggle through 5 hours of one on one lessons and Evelyn and I will play charades with our wonderful host family.
I love my life. Both here and the one waiting for me at home.
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