Yesterday I arrived in Grace's village outside of Chimaltenango. It was long overdue that I get out of Antigua (despite laundry service, falafel restaurants, and wifi, Antigua gets old), and I'm so glad that I did. Immediately I realized how much I've missed seeing women in traje, speaking in Spanish, buying veggies at the market, or being served questionable food (today I got pico de gallo…a mixture of tomato, onion, and raw beef…drenched in lemon juice which supposedly "cooks" the beef). As much as it makes me miss Campur, it's the best I can do for now to maintain some semblance of my PC life.
Generally speaking though, things are looking up. An unexpected turn of events over this weekend plus some time spent hashing things over with Grace (one of those undeniably glass-half-full kind of people) have allowed me to see this whole situation in a bit of a new light. While it's still hard to have my service (and life) interrupted by these uncontrollable events, I think the hardest part of this experience has grown out of a fear of change. As easy as it is to believe otherwise, change can be good. No matter what happens from all of this, I have the potential of diving head first into yet another brand new experience. I am still hoping beyond hope that I can go back to my life in Campur. I'm slowing realizing however that if I can't return, some other path will open up and lead the way to the Next Thing. I'm just going to have to trust that it will be a path I was meant to take.
Dreams of a Beached Cow
4 years ago