savor the journey...they say
so when i was travelling in central america i kinda hated the long bus rides.
i always got really anxious, you know, wondering if we were ever really going to reach our destination and trying not to wonder what i would do if we didn't. it was a little unsettling to my type-a-ness to travel at the mercy of a slightly crazy honduran who would always babble incoherently to my very gringa ears. often inquiring to the remaining duration of the trip, i would simply receive a laugh and a nod of the head 'ya tiempo, amor.'
of course, without the journey i never would have seen my sweet friend and her community hidden in the beautiful mountains of guatemala and i would have missed the excitement of jaloning up to a remote honduran village where there was no electricity or running water. i never would have seen the border town at night...so alive with boracha music blaring in the adjacent cantinas. i never would have tasted mama marixas amazing tortillas. i wouldn't have gotten to sell atol to the local school kids at recess or munched on delicious guayavas fresh from the tree. i never would have met jorge or maria or erlinda, orlando or eveylene.
i am beginning to feel like i'm stuck on the perpetual bus ride. i keep waiting to arrive, and everytime i just think i might...the journey continues. i wouldn't mind it so much if someone could just assure me that, eventually, the destination will come into view and i will know, with certainty, that i am here. but such assurance eludes me at every single turn, and at times i feel like i am the only one on this route. i keep watching my companions hop on and off...
but i am simply lost.
i'm not even certain which path i've chosen anymore...'oh wait, did i take the "no i'll never finish school or have a real job" turn at the fork in the road or is this the "just kidding, i don't want to be a crazy nature doctor anymore" trail?'
hey busdriver!!!! i wish for just one moment you spoke my language and could tell me in a calm, collected voice that eveything is going to be okay.
i always got really anxious, you know, wondering if we were ever really going to reach our destination and trying not to wonder what i would do if we didn't. it was a little unsettling to my type-a-ness to travel at the mercy of a slightly crazy honduran who would always babble incoherently to my very gringa ears. often inquiring to the remaining duration of the trip, i would simply receive a laugh and a nod of the head 'ya tiempo, amor.'
of course, without the journey i never would have seen my sweet friend and her community hidden in the beautiful mountains of guatemala and i would have missed the excitement of jaloning up to a remote honduran village where there was no electricity or running water. i never would have seen the border town at night...so alive with boracha music blaring in the adjacent cantinas. i never would have tasted mama marixas amazing tortillas. i wouldn't have gotten to sell atol to the local school kids at recess or munched on delicious guayavas fresh from the tree. i never would have met jorge or maria or erlinda, orlando or eveylene.
i am beginning to feel like i'm stuck on the perpetual bus ride. i keep waiting to arrive, and everytime i just think i might...the journey continues. i wouldn't mind it so much if someone could just assure me that, eventually, the destination will come into view and i will know, with certainty, that i am here. but such assurance eludes me at every single turn, and at times i feel like i am the only one on this route. i keep watching my companions hop on and off...
but i am simply lost.
i'm not even certain which path i've chosen anymore...'oh wait, did i take the "no i'll never finish school or have a real job" turn at the fork in the road or is this the "just kidding, i don't want to be a crazy nature doctor anymore" trail?'
hey busdriver!!!! i wish for just one moment you spoke my language and could tell me in a calm, collected voice that eveything is going to be okay.