It was a relief arriving and finding out Zach and Chris speak excellent spanish and could successfully get us out of Guatemala City without accidentally spending the budgets worth on bartered items. An offering of snacks and cookies were dropped in my lap and handed to me by salesmen trying to sell to the passengers on board. After his sweep from the back of the bus to the front, he picked up the cookies, seeing that we weren´t hungry and willing to pay and exited at the next rolling stop. Moments later, another patron entered, and the bus continued on.
Along the trip, there is an overwhelming sensation of coloring. I have a small idea to what this country is, the textbooks I´ve read, the news reports seen breifly is all, but having never actually lived and re-acted to these surroundings before now, leaves me perplexed. It´s as if this country never existed, except for the small outlines of shapes drawn in my head by some pre-concieved idea them. I seem to carry a coloring book, that I, myself, must color to remember the unforgettable details Guatemala offers, in texture, design, and shade. More importantly, just as a child must first color the picture before he or she truly finds meaning in it, so do I look forward to filling in the space inside; with my images and experience of Guatemala; today, yesterday, and for the next 8 weeks.
The greatest fear thus far is the unknown, for there is no plan when I leave this computer. There is no local barista that serves the coffee I´ve grown to enjoy each morning, no pre-drawn work schedule or classes that I´m required to attend: there is no routine, and each day begins a new page to draw upon. But I can´t help think about the salesmen trying to sell me cookies, hopping from bus to bus, seemingly a routine that I color in as detail and he forgets for another day.
Along the trip, there is an overwhelming sensation of coloring. I have a small idea to what this country is, the textbooks I´ve read, the news reports seen breifly is all, but having never actually lived and re-acted to these surroundings before now, leaves me perplexed. It´s as if this country never existed, except for the small outlines of shapes drawn in my head by some pre-concieved idea them. I seem to carry a coloring book, that I, myself, must color to remember the unforgettable details Guatemala offers, in texture, design, and shade. More importantly, just as a child must first color the picture before he or she truly finds meaning in it, so do I look forward to filling in the space inside; with my images and experience of Guatemala; today, yesterday, and for the next 8 weeks.
The greatest fear thus far is the unknown, for there is no plan when I leave this computer. There is no local barista that serves the coffee I´ve grown to enjoy each morning, no pre-drawn work schedule or classes that I´m required to attend: there is no routine, and each day begins a new page to draw upon. But I can´t help think about the salesmen trying to sell me cookies, hopping from bus to bus, seemingly a routine that I color in as detail and he forgets for another day.
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