Looking back...the unabridged version

My whirlwind 30-day trip through northern Central America really feels like it was only a dream. Being gone for a month sounds like it should feel like a long time. But in reality, I came back and went straight back to working and living life as usual. And before I knew it, the trip that took me through 4 countries somehow morphed into feeling like a crazy dream. You know how if you drink caffeine too close to bedtime you end up having crazy dreams all night long? That's what this trip has ended up feeling like to me. I fell asleep and found myself on tropical islands, brightly colored school buses, waking up to strange bird sounds and swimming in oceans much warmer than I've ever swam in before. So before this nightlong dream begins to feel like one that occurred during a nap, I want to take a few minutes to look back.

This trip really stretched my outlook on the world. I have abstractly thought of what poverty looks like, how bribes play out. I've thought about what traveling as a blond chick in a machismo culture would mean for me. I think its safe to say that I was concerned about a lot of things before embarking on this trip - my belongings, my comfort level, and how much I would actually enjoy myself. Basically every book you pick up tells you that you'll be robbed (at knife point), that cat-calls will be constant, that people will be begging for things left and right, that men will try to drug you in a bar, that you can't be out at night alone, that people will try to sell you drugs, that gang violence is ever-present.

So I left with those things in mind, I was hyper-vigilant every waking moment for about a week. I didn't allow myself to trust in people's good nature as I have always been committed to doing in the past. I looked mean and confident and self-reliant. Silly me.

Upon arriving in Belize, a good amount of those things you should look out for happened. IN THE FIRST 9 HOURS. A drunk old man in the bus terminal came up and talked to me. Someone offered me fruit. Then asked for a dollar. I paid double to use the restroom there. I was the only white girl on a bus full of black people speaking Creole or English that I couldn't understand. Once I arrived in Dangriga, a guy asked if I "smoke" with the intention of finding me some weed if I wanted it. And he appeared at the hostel later that night, drunk, wanting me to go out to hear the music being played in the streets with him. What a first day. I went to bed wondering what the hell I was doing down here.

I say, at least I got that out of the way. The next day started my new mantra: I have my passport and my debit card, THAT IS ALL THAT I NEED. None of those other things mattered. Only my safety and my passport really did. It was a great exercise in trust. There is no point in freaking out.

The most freeing moment I have ever had was on Day 3. I decided to follow the backpackers in the back of the bus in Belize onto the water taxi bound for Guatemala, which led me to Livingston. That town was so groovy. I started to relax finally and enjoy myself. I fell in love with traditional breakfasts at this point. After one day of traveling with my few-found friends, I sat down with them at breakfast, pulled out my guidebook, and said "I think I want to go to El Salvador instead of Honduras." Before breakfast arrived, I had totally changed direction. I have never felt that free before - I took my rough outline for my trip and threw it out of the metaphorical window. If only I could throw my return ticket out with it!!

I'm very glad I took that detour - El Salvador became my favorite place. I had the chance to see a country without the inundation of tourists, cruise ship tours, and old-growth hippie expats. And I loved what I saw.

Guatemala's Pacific side was slated after El Salvador...and what a difference 8 hours on a bus makes! Antigua was teeming with white people. I overheard English being spoken everywhere. The hostels were chock full (unlike the first 3 weeks of my trip, where I had a dorm room to myself half of the time). It felt like Europe. Now I went out and had a blast there, and met some cool people, but I lost the authentic feel. Instead of people being curious about me and what I thought of their country, I was treated as a dollar sign. You couldn't help but feel a bit like a herd of goats...the infrastructure surrounding Guatemala is set up specifically FOR tourists. I imagine my trip would have started off on an easier foot had I circled counterclockwise instead of clockwise from Belize City...but my trip happened exactly how I would have wanted it.

There is SO much I could say about the trip, what I learned, what surprised me, etc. But I probably already lost 90% of those who started out reading this enormous blog entry. I will sum it up by saying its amazing how much value we place on stuff up here in the temperate zone. How we continually isolate ourselves for fear of safety, or our kids safety. And how detrimental that is to us as social beings.

I didn't realize what had shifted inside of me until I was at an assignment shortly after returning. A woman who works at one ongoing job I have was comparing her time as a missionary in Mexico to my trip in Central America. As she was talking, she was describing the people in the town she volunteered in. They lived in tin-roofed sheds and bathed in a canal nearby. There was trash scattered about the canal and through the town. But then she said, "But I realized that these people are SO thankful for what they DO have." I have heard this phrase many times before. I have understood its meaning. But upon hearing it this time, I realized that I completely disagree with the value judgement she had just placed on the poverty-struck villagers: They haven't had the CHANCE to know anything else. They don't know what running water is like, what a shower is, what houses made of drywall and concrete are like to live in. They don't have the undying thirst for THINGS like we do. They are content with what they have because they don't have a choice. In our world of overwhelming amounts of choices, we can be discontent with only having what we need. And I would argue we can't determine what is that we genuinely need! Secondly, that phrase ignores the fact that there is a cultural divide present. I'm no expert in Latino culture by any means, but here's what I've gathered in my time down south: People, be it family or friends, are paramount. Food may be scarce, but it is meant to be shared with everyone, even if it means less for you. And when I say shared, I mean shared TOGETHER. Like in the same room. Without a television. And life is supposed to be SHARED. It is a culture built on the idea of community, not individuality. So as I realize this, I also realize that I have much more to learn, and much more to see, of the other cultures and people of the Americas.

I look forward to heading back soon. Nos vemos.