I cannot express how lucky I am to be in Guatemala. Even though our days consist of work, hunger, and no sleep, I'm coming to enjoy the thoughts of stillness. It is a change from the daily routine I've become accustomed to--fine cheeses, fine wine, sushi and steak--but the prior is being replaced by fine beans and fine rice so everything is: fine.
My skinny build is building. Yoga is led in the mornings by Chris though I'm having trouble with 'downward dog'. We have left over rice and beans for lunch, and sometimes if we're lucky rice and beans for breakfast. After these fulfilling meals, Zach leads us in aerobic exercising sometimes climaxing in a 20 mile hike up and down the mountain--but in all realities either this routine will create a fine gardening machine or you can simply purchase these at home depot back home, though I have no idea where to find the necessary isle or strength.
Zach, Chris and Ryan have been wonderful company, that without, I could have never remained as calm; having no concept of the language, culture or soccer skills. I miss not speaking/conversing with my new surroundings though. There is an unseen barrier between the locals and me--one that only by harnessing the great powers of Zach and Chris allows me to communicate through.
Also you might like to know, that despite my enormous failure in Boy Scouts, I have successfully made a fire to cook beans and rice.
Our dreams have been vivid. They seem to speak a different tale each morning, something I've come to enjoy hearing. It seems there are 4 additional 'waxwings*' that hover slightly above our heads, each examining the days events, deconstructing them into a powdery mist that when sprinkled lightly upon the forehead of its recipient, procures a silhouette of its present presence. Each night the waxwing returns and my shadow sharpens in focus--another reminder that I exist, a light, and a wall between. In the morning, we reconstruct the prior nights events with detail, ensuring another visit from the waxwing. I hope to share more updates about our findings on this mythical creature soon, but for now they're welcomed with gracious company.
We continue to farm. The seed for radishes will soon be planted.
Please pass these words to Kyle, for I realize his Junior-year summer is upon him and the sun is an escape for those in the Northwest. Also be prepared for when I return to sleep for two months strait. When I awake, you will find me passed out in the kitchen, having eaten 15 eggs, 2 pounds of sausages, and 3 and a half loafs of bread. The mayonnaise, avocado, and tomato I was planning to eat along side may be the only things remaining uneaten...but this is all hypothetical reasoning that I will not dwell upon now.
I miss you all, for everything you've done has led me to this, from Guatemala;
Love,
Sean.
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waxwing
My skinny build is building. Yoga is led in the mornings by Chris though I'm having trouble with 'downward dog'. We have left over rice and beans for lunch, and sometimes if we're lucky rice and beans for breakfast. After these fulfilling meals, Zach leads us in aerobic exercising sometimes climaxing in a 20 mile hike up and down the mountain--but in all realities either this routine will create a fine gardening machine or you can simply purchase these at home depot back home, though I have no idea where to find the necessary isle or strength.
Zach, Chris and Ryan have been wonderful company, that without, I could have never remained as calm; having no concept of the language, culture or soccer skills. I miss not speaking/conversing with my new surroundings though. There is an unseen barrier between the locals and me--one that only by harnessing the great powers of Zach and Chris allows me to communicate through.
Also you might like to know, that despite my enormous failure in Boy Scouts, I have successfully made a fire to cook beans and rice.
Our dreams have been vivid. They seem to speak a different tale each morning, something I've come to enjoy hearing. It seems there are 4 additional 'waxwings*' that hover slightly above our heads, each examining the days events, deconstructing them into a powdery mist that when sprinkled lightly upon the forehead of its recipient, procures a silhouette of its present presence. Each night the waxwing returns and my shadow sharpens in focus--another reminder that I exist, a light, and a wall between. In the morning, we reconstruct the prior nights events with detail, ensuring another visit from the waxwing. I hope to share more updates about our findings on this mythical creature soon, but for now they're welcomed with gracious company.
We continue to farm. The seed for radishes will soon be planted.
Please pass these words to Kyle, for I realize his Junior-year summer is upon him and the sun is an escape for those in the Northwest. Also be prepared for when I return to sleep for two months strait. When I awake, you will find me passed out in the kitchen, having eaten 15 eggs, 2 pounds of sausages, and 3 and a half loafs of bread. The mayonnaise, avocado, and tomato I was planning to eat along side may be the only things remaining uneaten...but this is all hypothetical reasoning that I will not dwell upon now.
I miss you all, for everything you've done has led me to this, from Guatemala;
Love,
Sean.
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waxwing
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