Rocking that *International* Paradise

I’ll make a confession.  I believe in fate a little bit.  Not a lot.  I don’t chalk my whole life and the way it has turned out up to fate, by any means.  But sometimes, for big decisions or when I’m making plans, it seems like multiple signs will point me to one decision--making one choice much easier than the other, although it might not have been my original choice.  In those instances, when the odds seem stacked against me getting my way, I figure fate is trying to steer me in the right direction.  In the past I have followed those instincts, and the decisions have always worked out for me.  For example, “fate” prodded me to study abroad in Mexico rather than Spain, and I have never regretted that decision. Though at one point in my life, I really thought Spain was where I’d wanted to be, Mexico shaped me in ways I couldn’t have imagined.  I used to get a feeling, after I’d made the right decision--the one fate had pressed me to make--that if I’d been stubborn and chosen the othe

So it’s the first night of our road trip.  Liz and I have safely made it to Kirksville, reunited with Rachel, spent some quality time with her parents, and gotten to know her adorable puppy.  We’re all just about ready for bed, and sleepy time preparations are being made. Liz got this bug bite a few weeks ago when we were still in Guatemala that had been giving her some grief.  She’d even gone in to see a doc about it, because it just wasn’t going away.  She’d been given some antibiotics, just in case, and they told her to put a warm compress on it a few times a day.  So before bed, Liz was lying in the room with a warm cloth pressed to the bite.  She asked me to take the band aid off of it to see how it was doing.  (Check if the swelling had gone down, etc.)  I pulled off the band aid, and sticking almost a quarter inch out of her skin was this little white…thing.  It looked like the oil build-up that forms a blackhead on your face.  We gaped at it and took a picture to send

If I were to divide my summer into 3 sections (which is what I’m mentally doing right now), the first section is nearing completion.  I have been back in my hometown for two weeks now.  It has been…rejuvenating, and fresh, and I feel blessed as always that I have this double life and homes in two areas.  My trips home have changed in mood and style in the last three years since I started teaching abroad.  My trips home used to be defined by the word, “whirlwind.”  I was rarely at home for an entire day.  Sometimes I would meet up with two or even three groups of people in the same day.  It was almost too much to fit into the tiny boxes on my monthly calendar.  I would find myself orchestrating groups of 5-15 people to get together for happy hour or a game night, or being invited to events organized by others.  I loved it. My trips home now are much more relaxed, however.  The number of people on my “need to see” list has dwindled.  Some of them have moved away, and some I’ve j

Thursday the 19th was…well, it was a day to write a travel blog about.  A day with a story to tell. The day began at 3:30 in the morning, when our alarms went off in our hotel room at the Tikal Inn, located inside of Tikal National Park in Guatemala.  I turned off my cell alarm and headed into the bathroom for an early shower, per the schedule Liz and Amanda and I had agreed upon the night before.  It was only when I entered the bathroom that I remembered the power and hot water would remain turned off in the hotel until 6am.  (This seems like poor planning for a hotel that offers a free sunrise tour of Tikal to all its guests, in my personal opinion).  So, using my cellphone as a flashlight to illuminate the room, I took a brief, cool shower and readied myself for the day.  Just after 4am, a group of approximately 15 guests set off with our two guides into the jungle surrounding the Maya ruins at Tikal.  Something in the forest smelled vaguely like pasta.  (It wasn’t pasta; I