Rocking that *International* Paradise

At the beginning of the 2015 school year, Mel proposed the idea of starting a writing club.  It would be a place for a few of us to come together, share things we’d written or were working on, and get feedback.  A way to motivate us to keep writing, and a place to share our work.  As the year went on, a group of 5-7 of us met consistently, once a month, and writing club became one of the highlights of my time in Guatemala.   For our first meeting, Mel asked that we write a true story—something that had happened to us.  As the group was made up primarily of teachers I knew and liked as acquaintances, but not as intimate friends, I came to the first writing club with a superficial story of a travel mishap.  I soon learned, however, that writing club would become not just a place to share stories, but a place to bare your soul.  Throughout the year, my writings became more and more personal.  This group of acquaintances became confidant...

The first time I went to Semuc Champey, it was with a group of 11 co-workers.  The weather was cold and cloudy our first day, and we stayed in a hostel where rats crawled through the thatch roof above my bunk bed each night.  I mean, it was a great trip and all, and I actually really enjoyed it (check out this post if you don’t believe me!), but when Liz came for Semana Santa this year and wanted to see Semuc, I decided we’d do it right.  We researched our hotel and booked a private room for the three of us (Kenra joined in on the sister trip too) at the Utopia Eco Hotel, just a few kilometers from the Semuc Champey park.  The location, accommodations, and service did not disappoint.  No rats this time—but plenty of cacao trees, hammocks, and the view of the turquoise river flowing past our front porch.    The weather also helped on this trip, of course.  Each day was around 95F, which made the crystalline pools of Semuc Champey...

Semana Santa started on Saturday, with a quiet weekend in the city and a short trip to Lake Atitlan.  But on Saturday morning, it seemed to me it started in exactly the wrong way.  It started not with an epic adventure worthy of my last months in Central America, and not with my “best friend,” and not with the person I once convinced myself that my world revolved around.  But as it turns out, this Semana Santa is not about showing off my travels or adding another country to my list.  And it’s not about spending it with anyone in particular.  This Semana Santa is about me .  About finding myself again, the person I once was.   And the first three days have been perfect .  With the help of two very good friends (whom I think I had sort of forgotten were such very good friends; we’ve seen so little of each other this year), we filled Saturday, Sunday, and Monday to the brim with goodness.  Kenra and Becky and I went out to brunch, ...

I’m really not great with technology.  I am constantly on my computer or attached to my phone, yes, but when it comes to how things work, I rely almost entirely on techie friends.  So, you can imagine the pure dread that went through me about a month and a half ago when my computer started making strange noises, froze, and then the “blue screen of death” popped up asking me to restart the computer.  But worse…when I did that, this disturbing message popped up: Insert full-blown panic.  It’s so easy to get caught up in the idea that “life” is saved on my computer.  And it’s true—I have a lot of memories, both in picture and journal format, saved in electronic files.  (Thankfully most of my digital materials for work are saved on the school computer or in the cloud, so that was less of an issue).  Fortunately, as I mentioned before, I have techie friends.  I sent a few frenzied photos to them on my phone, and they succeeded in c...