There’s a saying:
You need to be careful about where you go; you might never leave.
Each country I’ve visited has stolen my heart away from the next and given me a ‘this could be home’ vibe.
My month in Guatemala was no exception.
Being home-based in Antigua, Guatemala this last month, I’ve learned that traveling takes time. Time to explore the many regions of a country. To get to know the people… learn languages. Time to appreciate their customs, codes, attitudes.
It takes time to let your roots sink into the local soil of a place.
With only one month planned in each of the 12 countries scheduled on my 12-month journey, time is far too limited to immerse myself in all that each country has to offer.
And being 3.7 times smaller than my hometown of California, Guatemala has packed a mighty punch with the diversity of its geography and all of the things I wanted so badly to do and see. (Semac Champey, Livingston, Chichicastenango… I’ll be back!)
It’s the kind of place travelers come to for months, sometimes years at a time simply to explore.
I can imagine that for myself.
Different than simply being a tourist – living abroad and immersing myself in each culture’s unique ways, their special places and connecting with the indigenous people that I’d only previously learned about in books – has helped me understand myself more. Guatemala opened my eyes and my heart in ways I could not have expected.
Yes, I could absolutely stay home and gain a lot by reading about the world and these places I’ve visited and all that lies ‘out there’.
I could also learn a whole lot about sex from a textbook. But it’s just not the same as actually doing it.
In this country of Guatemala – home to a powerful and advanced civilization – I experienced so much.
Sitting with decendents of the Mayans, observing their centuries old spiritual customs, visiting impressive ruins left by the Maya, the remnants going back 5,000 years; A living testimony of the sophisticated lifestyle these brilliant minds had.
I Walked their trails and hiked their magestic (and active!) volcanos (Pacaya).
I swam in their pristine lakes (Lake Atitlan) and canoed in their rugged rivers.
I stood in awe of their wildlife and wandered their beach town (El Paredon) slowly with no agenda.
These are the things that have made me eager to dig into books when I return home to learn even more.
What story do those 3,000-year-old ruins tell, I wonder?
Living in a 3rd world country with a first world presentation also humbles you.
It has most certainly humbled me.
When you don’t know how things work. (Ummm, what the hell does that say? Cold wash cycle?) Or you don’t understand the nuances of the local language. (“Ohhhh, no. I didn’t ask do you like ME. I asked do you like your work!!”).
When you can be humiliated or ripped-off and not even know it. You’re at a disadvantage.
And eventually, silly vanity gets knocked out of you and you come to realize that our way as Americans isn’t the only way.
There are different ways of looking at things. Different religions and beliefs. Different definitions of beauty and style. Different customs… Different ways people express appreciation, disappointment, fear and anger. Or joy, happiness and elation!
And you come to appreciate it all, no matter how much it can also frustrate you.
Some of those ways have suited me better than others.
People where I’m from don’t necessarily live better than people in Guatemala; they are not necessarily any more respectful or generous. And they are probably, certainly, most likely no happier in the richest zip codes in Los Angeles than they are in the poorest townships of Guatemala.
This global travel thing teaches you that each group of people, each country, and even each city or town has its strong points. No country can be best at everything. And nobody knows who goes to heaven.
But places—like past lovers and the IRS—don’t always give you up readily.
And Guatemala, with its energetic resonance, most certainly hasn’t given me up.
It lured me in with its subtly. Cobblestone streets reminiscent of London or Belgium or even some U.S. east coast cities… Hidden gems behind inconspicuous walls at every turn. Grand wooded doors that whispered my name. “Naja, Come inside.”
And so I’d take a peak and be drawn in further to the delight of a hip restaurant, a colorful gallery or a chill cafe. I uncovered specialty boutiques and even a private poolside party where my friends and I were welcomed. All of these spaces so well presented I felt compelled to stop and explore.
And these were the rules of Antigua’s environs, not the exceptions!
It could be that in my ignorance I originally thought of Guatemala as the country of Civil war and poverty and militant guerrilla groups…
But my goodness was I mistaken.
Yes, poverty certainty exists.
But this country is more enchanting than not—it welcomes people every single day from all over the world to its front door and treats us with the hospitality of a precious guest.
It most certainly welcomed this American with open arms.