Triathlon of...Something

Another week since I've written-another month's worth of activities, thoughts and emotions all compressed into one short period. We arrived last night in Antigua, after (another) really long bus ride from central Guatemala. The last three days have been spent at an area called Lanquin, which is definitely the most beautiful place I have been so far.

After leaving Belize, I traveled with a couple of people to Flores, which is the base for visiting Tikal, considered to be some of the best Mayan ruins you can see. Flores itself is set on quite a beautiful lake, and the town is pretty, with whitewashed buildings, red roofs, lots of lush greenery and the blue of the water, which also lends a nice breeze to the town. I went to Tikal for a day, and it was definitely my favorite of the ruins I have visited, which is not saying that much because I have concluded, sadly, that, as I mentioned before, ruins don't do much for me. These ones are set pretty deep in the rainforest, which was my favorite part. I saw a couple of adorable monkeys swinging around the trees, and some really cool birds, who build these crazy nests that hang from branches like straw handbags, looking like they are literally held up by a thread, and that one too many chicks would send them crashing down the 100 feet to the ground below. It is really peaceful here, with all of the sounds of the jungle, and you stroll for about 30 minutes or so between each temple or building, along shady, secluded paths that I enjoy while also bringing Rachael's warnings to my ears.

After getting my fill of Tikal and Flores, I left on an early shuttle to Lanquin, a teensy town in the middle of nowhere in the central highlands of Guatemala. On the looong van ride there, I met this really awesome group of people that I am still with. Our ride was really fun, sharing stories from travels and laughing, and it has been great to make some good friends. It's interesting meeting people on this trip: in Asia, everyone was basically heading the same general direction, for better of for worse, and chances were quite high when you met someone you liked that they would be going to the same place you were. Here, the area is so large, and there are so many places to go, routes to take, etc. that it feels almost like some kind of planetary alignment has to happen for factors to be right to continue on with someone. Lots of great people to talk to, but more on a night by night basis. Hence, my constant dating. In fact, (side thought), were I to come back home and start dating people, I would really be practiced at it by now. The scenery on the way was absolutely gorgeous, with the last two hours being twisty turny roads that made both your stomach and your jaw drop. With every bend, we'd be looking out at the greenest...hills? mountains?...one after another, so steep and tall, running into each other far into the horizon, and then topped with white misty clouds, and dotted with small houses, churches, and villages nestled way down deep in the dramatic valleys. We finally arrived at our "town," which was really just a collection of houses and farms perched on a hill. Everything is perched on a hill here, as there's barely a flat piece of land anywhere. The locals have some seriously strong calves. The place we stayed at, El Retiro, is full of people who come here for a couple of days and don't leave, and it is easy to see why. The guesthouse is a series of small, charming, thatched roof palapas, and one big main "lodge" that overlooks a beautiful river, with a steep hill on the other side laden with palms and grasses. The lodge has lots of hammocks, a loft upstairs with pillows and lamps, and long tables where everyone eats family style. Dinner is served by candlight at seven, and everyone sits down to great music and delicious, healthy, mostly vegetarian yumminess. It's quite the treat. One day we went on this tour, which was a serious triathlon of fun. The first part leg was caving, and we were each handed a candle, and headed into my second river cave. The guide went ahead of us, and at each turn, he'd light a small candle on the wall, so that the whole cave glowed, rather than being harshly illuminated by headlamps and such. I kept wishing I could take a picture of this line of 15 people with candles in their hands, wading through the water while a couple of bats swooped from the ceiling. The actual caving was, like my other tour, pretty rigourous. We had to swim for quite a while, all in a row, and then climb some seriously sketchy ladders propped in slippery waterfalls, and over and through lots of rock formations. At the end, in the final dangerous act, we took a "shortcut" out of the caves, through this hole in the floor of a cavern, again with a small waterfall rushing through it, where you sat on the edge, looked down into complete blackness, and then just kind of...jumped, falling through the air about ten feet into a pool of deep water, and then swimmng to the edge...I have to admit I was slightly terrified, but it was actually really fun. You can almost tell how developed a country is but exactly how dangerous the activities are that they'll let you participate in. I mean, can you imagine doing that in the U.S.?.....the second leg involved sitting in the sun, relaxing and floating down the river on an innertube. Seriously one of my favorite ways to spend a sunny day. And finally, we went to Semuc Champuey, a series of limestone pools, again that gorgeous aquamarine color, so clear and warm, with small waterfalls cascading into each other. We finally took a collectivo back to our little retreat, super tired and happy from such a fun day...

We spent a couple of days at Lanquin, and just got to Antigua. It's really pretty here, another beautiful colonial town, and originally where I was going to take some more Spanish and salsa dancing classes. But...now I don't know what I'm doing. I had some pretty big realizations during abovementioned emotional breakdown in Tikal, namely around what I think about traveling alone, and, just as much, the nature, for me, of independence itself.

It has been an interesting, eye opening, and incredible experience to travel by myself for these last six weeks. It's something I've always wanted to do, and I'm really happy to have experienced it. Not just happy, but blessed to see what spending this time relying on myself is like. At the same time, my gosh has it been an emotional rollercoaster. Always, at home and here, I push myself so hard to be so strong, and I take so much pride in being able to always take care of myself. I've thought, for so long, that taking care of yourself means being able to do it all alone, and not needing others to make your life work. Almost like friendships and relationships are the icing on the cake, but the real substance needs to be just mine. I see that I've done this so much throughout my life. When I have a problem I need to figure out, I think I need to, by myself, turn it over and over in my mind until I find a solution, which I can then share with those in my life, but not until I know what's going on. I think sometimes I don't give the people I love in my life the opportunity to share their wisdom with me, thinking I need to do it myself. Honestly, in Tikal, I realized the foolishness of this thinking, and that that is not where I am in my life anymore, nor where I want to be. I was thinking that this trip by myself would be the ultimate test of my strength of character as an independent person. What I got instead is that my experiences, my life, my good times and bad are better and more fulfilling to me when shared with the people in my life. I really understood how much I want to create memories with the people that make my life what it is, rather than running around seeing more pretty things (no matter how pretty they might be). It was a great realization to have out of a really hard day, and it gave me a lot of perspective on what I have learned on this trip, and what I will take away from it.