The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready. – Henry David Thoreau
Monday, May 14, 2012 (DAYS 71 -74)
The idea of traveling alone can seem both daunting and frightening to many, including myself, but from what I have I experienced there are few times that I am truly alone. I continue to feel that this journey will have accomplishments, and with it, I have reached one that I was unaware would occur so soon, by adding 200 new friends on Facebook and meeting so many people from around the world. To me, life is about the constant surprises of the unexpected, it’s just a matter of how we choose to embrace these situations that delves to the character of the person that we are in the current moment, that, than proceeds the person we have yet to become but are destined to fulfill.
My second week of Spanish classes begins with a feeling of regression. Speaking English through the entire weekend, which I blame solely on Lindsay and Michelle, I feel as though I have taken two steps backwards. Blast those Canadian top hats and their devilish common language ways! I suppose I can’t lay the blame entirely on them, but will spread the wealth so-to-speak, with the smooth talking Chattanoogan from Tennesse, Clifford, our true lone Yankee from Brooklyn, James, and of course the chicas from what else, but the best coast of the West Coast, Ashley and Heidi. Even now, I’m missing our Sunday Funday, and the quote of the day from Ford, “you know what I love about Sundays? … Everything.” Touché, sir, touché.
The idea of traveling alone can seem both daunting and frightening to many, including myself, but from what I have I experienced there are few times that I am truly alone. I continue to feel that this journey will have accomplishments, and with it, I have reached one that I was unaware would occur so soon, by adding 200 new friends on Facebook and meeting so many people from around the world. To me, life is about the constant surprises of the unexpected, it’s just a matter of how we choose to embrace these situations that delves to the character of the person that we are in the current moment, that, than proceeds the person we have yet to become but are destined to fulfill.
My second week of Spanish classes begins with a feeling of regression. Speaking English through the entire weekend, which I blame solely on Lindsay and Michelle, I feel as though I have taken two steps backwards. Blast those Canadian top hats and their devilish common language ways! I suppose I can’t lay the blame entirely on them, but will spread the wealth so-to-speak, with the smooth talking Chattanoogan from Tennesse, Clifford, our true lone Yankee from Brooklyn, James, and of course the chicas from what else, but the best coast of the West Coast, Ashley and Heidi. Even now, I’m missing our Sunday Funday, and the quote of the day from Ford, “you know what I love about Sundays? … Everything.” Touché, sir, touché.
With the departure of most of our group to Antigua, and Lindsay and Maf moving in with their adoptive Guatemalan family for the week, I am relatively the last man standing at Zoolas, but not for long. The normalcy of hostel life brings new faces almost daily and of course this should be no different with the addition of a tall blonde Aussie, Freya, who has just moved in to the dorm and shares the far back corner with me. Initiating conversation with my debonair ways, please ladies, please, we decide to grab dinner together down the street at Restaurante Jakuu. Snagging a quiet table to the right of the entrance, I learn that Freya has been traveling for about nine months with possibly another six or more to go. Another given truth among backpackers is the lack of exact timing, this may be due to our refusal to wear watches which is the nomenclature of being unaware what day or even what month it may be. After receiving our menus from the solo server, the conversation that began in our dorm room continues with ease and is absent of any awkward pauses or silences, which is not hard to believe since anyone that knows me knows that I can be quite the conservationist, and this is also true of my Aussie counterpart. Relishing in the fact that this is not an awkward dinner with a new girl, our server interrupts by adding a lit candle between us on the table bringing an abrupt silence, and gives me a quick wink before he vanishes from our presence. Breaking in to laughter, neither of us can help the clumsy, yet wingman-ish attempt of “setting the mood” for a now-romantic-esque style dinner setting that has been created for us, and finally experiencing a traditional Guatemalan dinner with adult-size portions for only Q30 ($3.75) in San Pedro, I’ve already decided that this will be a place I will have to visit again in the near future. Upon finishing dinner, we continuing with the romantic theme that was flung on us with a slow walk back to Zoolas under a moonlight sky down the cobblestone street and I cannot help but continue to find humor in our dinner by candlelight. Our night ends lying in our respective beds with our heads practically touching with how the beds are positioned as we keep talking about the places we have been and those we hope to visit in the near future.
Tuesday brings moving day for me, as I am ready to rent my first apartment of my great journey, but surely not my last. Using my powerfully persuasive negotiating tactics I am paying a whopping Q350 ($43.75) for the month, which breaks down to $1.41 per day. Shamwow, indeed! The bright emerald color building makes me feel as though I’m living inside a piece of sour apple Bubblicious and soon this place will be popping harder than the upright collars of the d-bags at Lodos, so beware, you’ve been adequately warned. The first guest of my new place is Freya as she’s come to enjoy a movie on a rainy afternoon, and I have the privilege of exposing her to the wonders of Iron Man. Whispering to her that the film is based on a true story, she smiles flirtatiously, and when I give her the infamous ending line of the film, “the truth is….I am Iron Man.” I soon find that I am once again alone in my apartment. I guess she wanted to see the suit, but no worries mate, because soon the Canadian top hats have made their way down the block and the housewarming party continues. Cheers to the Northern Hemisphere, aye?
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