33 Days and Counting

It's mid-September, and Amanda and I leave the country in just 33 days. Daily customers at work, and acquaintances that know I'm leaving soon, ask: "Are you packing already?!" Which, I'm pretty sure you know the answer to. Uh . . . no? Some people have a slightly different response when they hear about our trip. They ask: "Why?" And to that, I would like to propose the answer, why not?

Why not backpack across Latin America? Why is it that traveling, for any extended period of time, to locales off the beaten path and outside of the resort haven, is so . . . for lack of a better word, foreign? Because, yes it is foreign, that is exactly why one should it.

According to an article published in The Expeditioner Online Travel Magazine, only 22% of Americans own a passport. The article also reports that the annual number of issued passports in America has gone down since 2007. Is this because people suffer more abroad? Is it because there are terrorists in foreign countries? Is traveling outside of the U.S. too hard or scary or unknown? Or dare I suggest the worst possibility of all - is it because Americans lack interest in other countries?

I'd like to say that I am ready, packed and organized, and mentally prepared for the 6-month jaunt we're about to embark on. But alas, this is not the case. I still have a shopping list that includes everything from mosquito nets, to malaria pills, to shoes. I have a car to sell, and farewells to say. I am somehow fitting in a week-long trip to New Orleans, and still working 40+ hours for the next three weeks. But it's OK, because when you see the two ladies who are about to conquer Latin America, I'm sure all your worries will be put at ease.

2 Blondes on a Mission

"I have come to understand that life is composed of a series of coincidences. How we react to these - how we exercise what some refer to as free will - is everything; the choices we make within the boundaries of the twists of fate determine who we are." - John Perkins, from Confessions of an Economic Hit Man.

John Perkins explains the coincidences that led to his career as an EHM: one was a rebellious friend, the other a young girl who captured his heart. Is Perkins correct in that the mere meetings or interactions with others can truly alter our path? Perhaps he sheds more light onto why we make decisions than we ourselves care to admit. For aren't we often too proud to confess that others affect what we think or do; don't our ego's like to think that we made decisions regardless of what others say?

But to declare that I have made the decision to travel across Latin America- be it through fate, free will, or a series of coincidences - without the influence of others, is to deny how I arrived at this point. It would ignore the events that made me feel stir-crazy and the people that first planted the seeds in my mind to travel.

Had I not been so discouraged by the nonprofit I worked for immediately after graduation in 2009, and had I decided to stick it out rather than spontaneously quit and fly home, I would never have worked retail. And that would have been sad indeed, for I would have spared myself the torture of selling Christmas ornaments 3 months in advance. And I would have also never jumped on the opportunity to spontaneously jet set to Guatemala with my friend Stephanie, just to avoid continuing on my path of retail hell.

The people I met in Guatemala and the series of coincidences that occurred there didn't subdue my desire to travel like I thought they would, but rather only fueled the flame. I met one young woman who quit her amazing job as a magazine editor, forfeiting her free flights and free clothes to work in Santa Maria for a year. I met another girl who bought a round-the-world ticket and planned to set foot on almost every continent before returning a year later to London. My host brother in Guatemala spent two years learning English from a group of Aussies as he traveled Europe - and needless to say, hearing a Guatemalan man speak English with an Australian accent is priceless. And spending so much time with Steph, who is one of the most ambitious young ladies I know, also helped me ask myself, what do I really want to do with my life?

Shortly after arriving back in the states and back in New Mexico in March, I had an interview for an assistant manager position with a large salary and a 2-year contract. I, obviously, didn't get the position. Yet I'm beginning to think that being denied the opportunity was a blessing. For if I had, I would probably not be driving a $450 piece of metal with a broken bumper, no AC, and no turn signals, and I also wouldn't be waitressing.

Which leads to the final coincidence. If I was doing something else, I might not spend half of my day dreaming about leaving the country. I might not be wondering what the others I met in Guatemala are doing now, or what they are experiencing. So it is actually a very fortunate series of coincidences that has fostered my intense desire to continue to learn Spanish, to work with those less fortunate in any way I can, and to see what I've only glimpsed in books.

Having arrived at the conclusion that I needed to at least find a way out of Albuquerque, I emailed my friend Amanda asking her if she knew of any internships abroad. Quickly this conversation budded into full force plans to travel together.

October 20th: Amanda and I will meet in Panama City, where we will (safely!) shuttle down to El Valle de Anton where we will live with a Panamanian host family and work at an orchid nursery to help bring back endangered flower species. Here's the website: http://aprovaca.webs.com/

From there we will likely move up through Central America with a possible longer stay in Honduras with another environmental conservation internship (still in the works) and then perhaps fly down to Ecuador. We shall see...

But whatever happens and however long we end up staying, I haven't been this excited for quite some time :)

It's Good To Hate Your Job

It's good to hate your job. Why? Because the only two things you think about when you exit through the glass doors to the glorious parking lot is, one, how much your feet hurt after standing for an eight hour shift, and two, what you could be doing instead of serving salads, burgers, and cake.

It's also good to work a job that quickly becomes routine. Because as you drop a lemon into an ice tea glass for the one hundredth time that day, you can simultaneously think about where you could go next.

Like, say . . . Panama.

And then you could continue south through Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, Chile, and Argentina. And then you could loop back up until you get to Venezuela.

Or until you run out of money. Or get eaten by a llama. Or a monkey.

At least that is the plan for now. (To travel until my girlfriend from college and I run out of money. And to avoid monkeys.) We are currently working on setting dates and making concrete plans. But the dreams are tossed out there, and have already begun to take shape. We recently applied (and were accepted) to a non-profit organization in Panama that provides free housing and food, in exchange for working to conserve wild orchids. OK!?!

Nothing is set in ink yet, but stay tuned . . .

Perhaps Ignorance Really is Bliss

I returned to New Mexico on Saturday, overwhelmed, frazzled, sad and happy all at the same time. I was overwhelmed by everything I had experienced and seen in Santa Maria. I was frazzled by the airports and the sharp reality that I was, less than 8 hours later, no longer in Guatemala. I was sad to think that I may never again see the 29 children that I hugged everyday; yet I was happy because I knew they were smiling. Because the kids of Santa Maria are just happy. Perhaps ignorance is bliss...

Some of the children have never been to Antigua, and the few that

have, believe it to be a tremendous opportunity to spend the day in the "city". Many of them will never move out of Santa Maria, and while I would love for the kids to never have to go hungry again or to know what it is like to sleep on a mattress, I wonder if they are happier because they don't know what they're missing. They have never known what it's like to sleep without all of their siblings, and so they don't lament it. While it breaks your heart to see some of the kids put their daily piece of bread in their pocket or their tiny purse to take home to share with their families, at the same time, this is their life. And they are not complaining.

Three days before I arrived in Albuquerque, my boyfriend returned from a 10 day trip to Haiti. He was telling me of the corruption, the stealing, the lying, and the violence that has come to define the country. Apparently in the last 200 years, only 4 presidents or dictators have completed their terms of service. The others were exiled, executed, or have fled the country. Both men and women gain status based on the number of children they have. Stealing is rewarded. It has come be said that Haiti's biggest export is poverty. Yes, Haiti is a mess.

Yet, coming from Santa Maria, I can't even imagine this. The people in Santa Maria are so courteous, kind, and unselfish. If a student loses his pista (pocket-change), the entire class stops paying attention and begins crawling on hands and knees looking for the missing 50 centavos. We sent some of the older children to the photocopy shop with Q5 and instructions to make 25 copies. They dutifully returned with correct change and exactly 25 copies. The kids each ate their one piece of bread and fruit and then were satisfied. Although both my boyfriend and I were working in very impoverished communities, it seems that none of the corruption and negative energy of Port-au-Prince is visible in Santa Maria.

Why is this?

Although I am far from understanding the sociological explanations, I did speak with one of the directors of the project on my last night in Antigua and he was able to shed some light on the

issues. He said that the people of Guatemala (especially the Mayan people) have not often received aid or help from other countries. And that because of this, Mayan people do not see a white person and immediately expect money or clothes or food. They work hard and modestly to feed their families. Parents have children in order to have more help in the fields. The director said that many third-world countries, especially in Africa, have received so much aid from others that they are able to survive merely on the support of other governments. They don't have a need to learn to stand alone. If governmental aid gets you a good life, why change things? Perhaps this is the case with Haiti as well. If corruption gets you a good life (or any life), why stop? How can countries like Haiti get back on their own feet? Even with our project in Santa Maria, the biggest sign of success will come when the chicitins we taught return to the school to be local teachers. Until then, we can just be thankful we shared a moment in their lives and hope for the best.

On our last day, Steph and I gave each of our students a class photo to take home. They spent the first 5 minutes just staring at the photo and pointing out all the silly expressions of their classmates. They were excited to see their faces on paper, to take this one photograph home and tuck it away in a safe place. Who knows how many other photos of themselves they will have in their lifetimes. And the 150 I have of them isn't nearly enough.

8 weeks and 532 photos later, I am now back in the U.S., jobless and perhaps only a little wiser, but most certainly touched.

Vamos a Bailar!

Took a while for the kids to understand that my camera could make a video. But once that was clear, the chicos were not shy to perform . . .

Las Photos de Mis Ninos

Clase 3 Manana

Clase 2 Tarde

I had 9 kiddos in the morning and 20 in the afternoon, all first graders. While 20 seven-year-olds is a handful, it was actually easier to teach the 20 than it was the 9. The students in the morning were older (most were 8 or 9 years old) and each one had an incredibly strong personality. Many of the students who are older than they would normally be in the first grade either were unable to start school on time because they were working, or didn't pass first grade the first time around usually due to poor attendance at the national school.

Discipline proved to be much harder in the morning than the afternoon as well, since many of the children in the morning came from very tough family situations. One of the students lives with his grandmother ever since his dad abandoned the family and left Santa Maria which caused the mother to flee to a convent. One of the other students refuses to act like an adult because "adults hits". The smallest girl in the class is just as quick to throw insults as the boys since she is the lone girl in a family of brothers.

Yet while each class at the school in Santa Maria has enough sad stories to make your head spin, it still stands that kids will always be kids and the chicitins (little kids) of Santa Maria really are no different than children anywhere else in the world. They throw their crayons on the floor when they don't want to do something, they pout when they don't get their way, and they shriek with delight when they find out we're using paint that day.