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 i...

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....

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 dwindle...

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 vaguel...

When my parents flew home from Guatemala last week, my mom’s facebook status upon arriving home told a tale of long lines, delayed flights, near misses, and luggage that arrived home a day later than its owners.  When Liz and I left Wednesday  morning, I sincerely hoped our luck would be different. Our taxi arrived (10 minutes early) at 4:12am.  I was determined to beat the lines that Mom and Dad had experienced being on the “first flight out” in the morning.  We were successful in that.  We sped through check-in, breezed our way through customs, were shuffled through security, and found ourselves with over an hour to wait at our gate before boarding.  Sunrise over Guatemala, from our gate waiting to board. In Miami, too, everything went smoothly.  Though the customs process seemed to take an eternity, it was effective in cutting our 90 minute layover down to less than half an hour to wait at the gate.  And then we were in the sky, so...

I dropped my parents off at the airport this morning.  With a quick, fierce hug and a slamming of the trunk, I pulled away and left them on the curb, scurrying to check in for their 7:30am flight.  It feels like they were here for so much less than five full days.  We had a great time while they were in Guatemala, of course, but the time flew by much too quickly. Mom and Dad and my sister Liz arrived around 8pm on Thursday night.  On Friday, the accompanied me to school and were able to see where I work (and meet a few colleagues) as I rushed around cleaning my classroom, going to the last meetings of the year, and getting the signatures I needed in order to check out for the summer.  By 1:00pm, I was ready to go, and with my pack horses in tow (parents and sisters are always best when put to work—especially when one dislocated her shoulder a week previously and really shouldn’t have been carrying much with her left arm) we headed home briefly, then went t...

Looking back on it, I think there were signs something was going to happen.  Between Thursday night and Saturday afternoon, at least three people noticed and asked about the scar on my right shoulder which is the mark of the surgery I had seven years ago.  I should have known it was a sign.  After seven years, the scar has faded and few people notice it anymore.  (Case in point, one of the people who asked about it this weekend has known me since September and seen me in a bathing suit numerous times).  I should have been knocking on wood as I explained the surgery had been to tighten up the tendons around my shoulder and make sure I didn’t dislocate it again, and that I hadn’t had a problem since then.  But I didn’t. Let’s back up a bit.  On Friday, Amanda (of “Amanda and Josh and adventures in Puerto Rico” fame) arrived in Guatemala to visit, volunteer, and take in Latin culture.  She’ll spend a full month here, with Josh coming down to mee...