Xela Adventures

As soon as Connor and I reunited at the Weller household in the afternoon of June 6, we constructed a travel agenda for the days before the June 14th advanced HELPS team start date. These last few days were to be Connor's last free travel days in Guatemala, we had to make the best of them. Neither of us had climbed a volcano, backpacked, or seen the city of Xela at all during our trip. After doing a little research, we found a volunteer-based group called "Quetzaltrekkers" that offered a hike to observe an erupting volcano on Friday, as well as Saturday-Sunday trek to Volcano Tajumulco, a 14,000 foot volcano that marks the highest point in Central America. Our decision was made for us. By Thursday morning at 1:00p.m., we were on a bus heading towards Xela.

We arrived in darkness.. a kind local woman offered us a ride to Quetzaltrekker's office in the back of her husband's pick-up. After settling into a nearby hostel (Casa Argentina = 25 Quetzales = you get what you pay for), we reserved a couple spots on the "Santaiguito: El Mirador" hike, which required a 4:30a.m. wake time. We wasted no time in scurrying up to our worn mattresses for a hint of shuteye before the next day's hike.

Connor and I shared the hike with a few other women our age: one Canadan, one Brit and Missourian. The hike took about 2 hours to reach the prime viewing spot, where we enjoyed a fresh fruit and oatmeal (called "mash") breakfast. Our tour guide was a young, pretty Israeli woman who had volunteered for over 3 months with Quetzaltrekkers. During the hike, two dogs named "Santa" and "Maria" followed us all the way up, sensibly expecting the leftovers from our breakfast. While I felt like the hike was overpriced ($25), I had fun, and put confidence in the fact that my money was going towards a charitable cause (see www.quetzaltrekkers.com). The puff-of-smoke eruptions of Santaguito, which occurred about every 20 minutes or so, were somewhat under-impressive (see a video below to see for yourself). 

After returning to Queztaltrekkers and booking our Tajumulco hike for the next day, Connor and I had a full day to explore Xela's tourist arractions. We ended up taking a half hour bus ride out to a beautifully painted church that Connor had read about in his guide book. The church was unlike any other I had ever seen. The outside was decorated with plenty of red, yellow, blue, and green paint. The inside displayed typical Guatemalan church characteristics; papier-mâché mannequins of Jesus, the saints, Mary, traditional pews, and the stations of the cross. There was, however, the usage of neon lighting above the altar (perhaps the most prominent part of the church), where in glowing green letters spelled out "Pescador de Hombres." While most gringos might have considered the neon lighting tacky, the Guatemalan mentality of "if it glows or flashes, its awesome" seemed to strangely fit in well with this sanctuary.

Meal on the Road

We met up with our trekking crew at 5:00p.m. at the Quetzaltrekker's office. Our crew would be about 13-14 people hailing from Argentina, the UK, Guatemala, USA, and other countries. After the distribution of food, tents, tarps and other supplies, each person was outfitted for the trek. I was thankful to have my own backpack, rain gear, etc, (all I had do get from them was a sleeping bag and mat), but had I nothing, Quetzaltrekkers could provide for me, as well as everyone else. Everything from boots to flashlights was "borrowable" from Quetzaltrekkers at no additional fee; a handsome idea I might say. After distribution and brief introductions, we all departed for an early night's rest, preparing for a 4:45a.m. departure time.

The morning came early. By 4:45a.m. we were on a bus towards the department of San Marcos. By 6:00a.m., breakfast at San Marcos bus station. Somewhere around 10:00a.m. after another long bus ride, we finally arrived at the entrance of the way to Tajumulco. The climb took a good 4-5 hours, with several well-timed breaks along the way. While hiking, I got to know plenty of folks on the trek with many different entertaining stories.. another beauty of life on the road. We set up camp near the summit and had a delicious lunch and dinner, and went to bed early for yet another early rise.

Tajumulco, Guatemala, 14K+ ft, 5:36am, Sunday June 10, 2012 

Connor and I descending Tajumulco

On the morning of Sunday June 9, we woke at an early 3:30a.m. to finish the climb to Tajumulco's summit.  The climb was cold, treacherous, but rewarding. We reach the summit around 5:30a.m., just in time to see the sun peak over the mountains towards Xela. One of our guides, Steve, pulled out his iPod and timely played "Circle of Life" from the Lion King soundtrack ("You just earned yourself a tip!" I said). It was very windy up top; it was a personal sacrifice to take a picture of someone else, as your hand would be numb within 5 seconds of exposure to the biting wind. Aside from several pictures, videos, and celebratory yelling when the sun split through the clouds, we also fortuned upon two unopened Gallo Beer cans. I couldn't believe that someone brought beers all the way up to the summit to just leave them there, but I wasn't complaining. I had a beer at 5:45a.m., on the highest point I've ever been on earth. Goood times.

After our descent back to base camp, we wasted no time in eating a quick breakfast and breaking down camp. We descended Tajumulco back to our start spot by the highway, and stopped at a "comedor" for some delicious eats prior to stuffing ourselves in an overpacked bus to return to San Marcos and, ultimately, Xela. Our timing couldn't have been better. We were back in Xela by 3:00p.m., and caught another overpacked bus directly to Guatemala City. Finally at 10:00p.m., we were ringing Ceci's doorbell. Ceci, clearly already having been sleeping, opened the door for us and welcomed us like a family member. She brought us into the kitchen where an order of Pizza Hut pizza and wings were waiting for us.

"Enjoy dinner. See you guys tomorrow," she said quietly as she meandered back to bed. Good to be back in my Guatemalan home again.

My Home in Guatemala City

My home in Guatemala City

As mentioned earlier in "HELPS Trip  #4: Huehuetenango," I recently befriended a pretty young girl named Cecilia Weller, who has offered her house up to me any time I need a place to stay, in true "mi casa es su casa" latino fashion. This friendly invitation couldn't have come at a better time. With Bernie leaving for almost two months to visit the States, as well as one last medical mission to complete in June, Guatemala City is the perfect hub from which to travel. Not only that, but Cecilia's house is a 10 minute drive from the Guatemala City airport. On July 2, my departure date for the States, it will be no problem for Cecilia to give me a quick lift over to the airport's departure gate. 

Cecilia's kindness and generosity exceeds just a quick ride to the airport, however. Every time we arrive at the Weller's house, an exquisite meal is prepared for us. Even when we went out to eat with Cecilia to a restaurant in Guatemala City, Cecilia's Dad Pepé sent us with money to pay for the meal. The maids of her house wash our clothes and make our bed, and there is always time for a blockbuster movie on their 50+ inch TV screen. When we depart, one of Pepé's workers will take us to whichever bus station we need to go.

Pepé himself is quite a character. This successful computer engineer and businessman is a motorcycle enthusiast, and he's always telling us about his newest bike purchase or interest. Mrs. Weller, owner of the local "Little Caesar's Pizza" places in Guatemala, enjoys playing hostess and making sure that we feel as comfortable as possible. On the first day I stayed at the Weller household, I was introduced to Ceci's "abuelos" (grandparents) like close family friend, and dined on an incredibly delicious chicken parmesan with them.

I have since moved all my belongings to the guest room (actually Ceci's brother's room), and I have already told Mrs. Weller I may just skip my flight back to the States to live forever in this urban household of paradise. She chuckles, smiles and says, "You are welcome here anytime!" I certainly feel that way.

Prepping the Place and Wrapping things Up

Connor and Bernie sharing a moment

The St. Patrick's Group enjoying a parade

Finally, after being away from the monastery for almost a non-stop month, I was back to enjoy my last few weeks at Resurrection Priory. In this instance, these were not easy work weeks. During May 23 - May 29, Saint Patrick's Youth group would be lodging at Resurrection Priory. The stay included a lot of preparation work for Justin and I, and with Justin's departure from Resurrection and the BVC coming up on May 28, we also had plenty of "wrap-up" work with concerns to the website and the loose ends of Bernie's computer donation project. Thankfully, we were able to accomplish all our tasks (including prepping a dormitory, purchasing food, painting a few walls, etc.) with the help of our good friend Connor Biskamp from the HELPS trips. Connor arrived on May 20 at the monastery and remained in Resurrection's guest house during the St. Patrick Youth group stay. Just as we had helped Connor during the medical missions, so too did he assist with several of our miscellaneous projects, including the organizing of the Youth group's stay. After the big Cobán Marathon weekend and Justin's departure for Antigua and his future job with Habitat for Humanity, Connor even helped deliver and set-up the last of our computer project in the aldea next to Alan Kress's Farm. We are forever thankful for Connor's friendship and involvement. Below are a few pictures from our last encounter with the kids at the aldea's school. Another fun, unforgettable experience…

St. Patrick's Candid picture

Found a guy with SJU b-ball jersey

The Saint Patrick's Youth group was an absolute pleasure to host and serve. Hearing Minnesotanism's around the monastery like "Oooh sure!" or "Yeah you betcha!" , not to mention any English phrases, made both Justin and I fondly reminisce about home. While we choose to leave the group to their own devices in regards to organized reflection on their service mission, we were kindly invited and obliged to attend dinner and some group outings. It was strange to be getting to know college-age Edina kids while eating in a restaurant thousands of miles away from Minnesota, yet still a pleasure to meet people that Connor described as, "Ugh… they're all waaay too nice!"

By June 1, Connor was heading to Belize for a five day trip with his Dad, the Saint Patrick's group had returned to Minnesota, and Justin was working as project coordinator on his first Habitat for Humanity team in Xela. This left Father Bernie and I to our own devices at the monastery. Because Connor and I were planning on hiking a volcano by the end of the week and Fr. Bernie was leaving for Huehuetenango and eventually the States on June 8, I set my departure date for June 6. For the rest of the month and my stay in Guatemala, I will be staying at Cecilia Weller's house in Guatemala City (please see "My Home in Guatemala City"). I had quite the list to complete before leaving the monastery for the last time. Packing, last minute goodbyes, room cleaning, and several old Alfred Hitchcock movies brought me quickly to Wednesday, June 6. Prior to leaving Resurrection Priory, I left each community member (monks and lay workers alike) with a framed picture of themselves with others (all photos that I had collected throughout the year). While I didn't have enough money to give them true departing gifts, I theorized that a picture is worth a thousand words. Few photos of community members can be found around the monastery, so I strategically placed several around the place before I left. I wish Resurrection Priory all the best, and I look forward to seeing how the community develops into the future!

Last picture with Julio!

Mayan Ruins and Sweet Rivers

Not too long after the last skit ended on Saturday, May 12, did Connor, Casey, and I mount a bus for a long, twisty, turn bus ride to Guatemala City, and straight onwards to Flores, in the northern province of Peten. Justin had already left on Thursday to pick up his old friend Sam Harvey from the Guatemala City Airport. Sam, who was then between jobs, wanted to spend a few days adventuring with us before he jumped back into the real world. After a night in the monastery in Cobán, Sam and Justin headed up to Flores on Sunday, too, and we met them there at a nice, relatively inexpensive hostel. The journey was long and quite miserable, but it felt like quite the sense of accomplishment to have made it to Flores at  around 4:00pm when we had left Huehuetenango at 11:10pm the night before. By the time Justin and Sam arrived in Flores, we had booked rooms and a bus out to Tikal, the most famous of all Guatemala's Mayan Ruin sites. A few tasty nightcaps put us right to bed before an early 5:00am bus pick-up.

Connor, Sam, Justin

Just hangin' around

Our bus rolled into Tikal's National Park at around 6:30a.m. and we did not depart until 3:00p.m. later that day. The site was massive, including several dozen temples that all adorned "Do Not Climb" signs… which were set out in vain, so it seems. We saw plenty of strange wildlife, massive temples, and even a few hieroglyphs. While Justin, Connor, and Sam climbed almost every temple in site, Casey and I got a bit tired and uninterested in climbing (it was kind of repetitive!), so we took pictures of them racing up the temples. Regardless, I'm very glad I went to see them. I was talking to one of the park employees, and he was explaining that during the new year they expect several thousand people to visit, camp-out, and party. Whoosh! What a way to spend the end of the world. Check out the pictures from the park above and below….

View from the top of Temple IV (also used in Star War's "A New Hope")

Strange Turkey

We arrived back in Flores at 4:00p.m. After a quick dinner by the lake, we all huddled in a taxi to catch a bus to Rio Dulce, a gorgeous warm, tropical climate near the Caribbean side of Guatemala. The bus ride took about 3 hours, and just as we were pulling into Rio Dulce, the tropical rain took a turn for the worst. Thankfully, we met a really nice, young Canadian sailor on the bus who was parked up in Rio Dulce with his Dad; he gave us the name of a place (Bruno's) that was right off the road when we came into town. We occupied a majority of their dormitory for a measly $5 a night… free internet. It was a great find!

The next day we covered another great set items from a Guatemalan tourist's checklist. In the morning, we toured a small Spanish castle, several times raided by pirates and once used as a prison for evildoers in the days of old. After enduring more tropical rain and enjoying our mid-morning snack of a 70 cent Brahva cerveza, we headed towards "Finca del Paraiso," a natural thermal pool featuring a beautiful waterfall off the beaten trail. When we visited, there were only locals enjoying the varying degrees of the pool's temperatures. After sticking around for awhile, the locals began to rub a certain kind of mud all over their bodies. They would let the mud dry, then jump in and wash it off.

I claimed to our group that they were exfoliating their skin (I, of course, had no clue what I was talking about). Regardless, we all eventually tried this "therapeutic" mud-caking procedure. While I will admit that my skin did feel more smooth after the process, I'll never know for sure if this group of locals was just making fools of the American tourists…

We ended our fantastic day with a meal at Bruno's, or lodging which also coincidentally had the best food in town. Quite a few beers helped us sleep soundly that night. Justin and Sam rose early for the airport the next morning, while Connor, Casey, and I took a boat down the Rio Dulce to Livingston. The boat ride included a stop at a very nice hot spring, as well as beautiful views of the Rio Dulce (means "sweet river"). We almost forgot that it was rainy season… until a tropical storm hit us right before we arrived in Livingston. After watching the rain come down beneath a thatched roof restaurant, Casey and I bid farewell to Connor before heading across the bay to Puerto Barrios. 

The boat ride to Puerto Barrios may as well had been an open-window submarine trip. We were soaked by the storm still brewing over Guatemalan's coast; fortunately, we had the proper rain gear, including on our bags. Casey and I caught the same bus, and I jumped off at El Rancho while she went onwards to Guatemala City and, eventually, home. Casey's departure was sad but right, and it reminded me that my time to depart is nearing. Casey was an awesome travel partner, and I've promised to make it out to the Oregon State Fair (or something of the sort). I know that someday in my travels I'll find myself there. Farewell, Casey, and thank you for all the great times!

HELPS Trip #4 - Huehuetenango

Our return journey from Mexico was swift and semi-smooth. With two non air-conditioned nights on the road (one in Belize City and one in the dirty one-corner town of Raxhjua, at the most sketchy hotel I've ever stayed at), we were thrilled to finally be back home in our own beds. It wasn't for too long, however, that the twisting, turning, tumbulo-riddled roads of Guatemala called for us once more. We arrived back at the monastery on Friday May 4, and by Sunday May 6, we were packed and ready for another HELPS medical mission. The trip to Huehuetenango was shorter than Tejutla; Justin and I were thrilled to make it to base camp just before a delicious lasagna and garlic bread dinner was served.

Monday Outreach.. up in the hills

The Huehue HELPS medical mission of May 2012 was held in the Guatemalan Army's military base, a location occupying quite a few square miles in Huehuetenango. We dined and slept in military-style barracks and utilized the Army base's large, strangely planned hospital to carry out treatment of patients. During the whole week, we were constantly witness to Guatemalan Army Personnel marching, chanting, singing, and even spontaneous running. We even received a hearty welcome with our national anthem (excuse my terrible singing) from the base's commander, marching band, and residences.

Mansi helps child patient

My work week was split into three tasks. On the Monday, I had the great pleasure of going on an outreach team to a rural community in the hills just outside of Huehue. There, I helped translate for Mansi, a new, young aspiring practitioner, along with several other team members, including my first introduction to the dental team I would work with later in the week. The outreach day was stressful (as most Monday outreaches are). We had one woman who seemed to be ready to give birth to a baby any second, and another small girl who wouldn't wake up for like 20 minutes from the deepest sleep I've ever seen. Tensions also ran high with the crowded line, and our departure was hastened by the onslaught of heavy rain. Regardless, lots of great work was done, and we left a lot of folks feeling a lot happier and a lot more healthy.

Cecilia at Triage

During Tuesday and Wednesday, I took a post at one of the more difficult positions for HELPS, Triage (for those who missed previous posts, this is the process by which patients are admitted into the hospital. I recorded basic information about their sickness or disposition before admitting them to a specific line, such as OB/GYN, Eyes, Dental, or General Clinic). During my triage ventures, I got the great pleasure of meeting the gracious Cecilia Weller, a repeat volunteer from Guatemala City. Cecilia and her family have had a long history with HELPS, and have even offered HELPS volunteers such as Connor and Casey to stay at their house in Guatemala City before a flight or just to pass the time. They take the "Mi casa es su casa" statement very seriously, and since this post I have already enjoyed the benefits of their generous hospitality.

Myself, Cecilia, Connor, Casey after certificate ceremony at the end of the week

Dr. Rusk at work

Another "NEW CAR!!" recipient

On Thursday and Friday, I was blessed with the opportunity to work with the "it's a family affair!" dental team from Selma, California- Dr. Glenn Rusk, Terry Rusk, and Susan Grubbs. After observing Dr. Rusk on several extraction and examination of teeth (including the application of anesthesia via injection), I had what many might call a "moment of clarity." Would I ever want to be a dentist? I've never been scared of the dentist, and blood in the month doesn't seem to bother me as much. By the end of my two days with this kind team, I would have been ready to try start applying anesthesia to patient's gums, a previously impossible thought for me. When I let the team know of my newest peak interest, they only fed the fire. Dr. Rusk was so encouraging and convincing of his beloved profession (sentiments that I've already received from my own dentist, Dr. Thomas Meschke in Chaska) and even offered to say that he'd help any way he could.

Aside from the fun "becoming a dentist" discussion (which to this day is still rattling around in my head), we enjoyed playing each other music from our iPod speakers, distributing toys to fearful child patients, and observing how tough the old women were in comparison to the burly Army men that winced when receiving local anesthesia. I hadn't formed such a great relationship with a medical team since the St. Cloud Dental team back in January… maybe I DO need to think about this dentistry thing.

Terry gives Dr. Rusk some tension relief before starting next patient

Most of this month's medical team hailed from California, most commonly from Fresno, Bakersfield or Santa Monica. 

 The team was truly fun to be around. The kitchen staff knew me all to well… I couldn't help but get labeled as "going back for seconds" guy, which I was playfully teased about every time I entered the kitchen. I've never seen such a big team before, yet the cohesiveness remained impressive. Prayer and song were included in every breakfast, and I even filled out a questionnaire at the end of the week that critiqued the team's performance. On Saturday, after collapsing several dozen shelves and stacking chairs, the whole group enjoyed a few skits put on by different teams in the hospital. Below is the Huehue Dental Team's skit . I'll never forget that great crew!

Journey To Mexico

[May 19, 2012, 8:13PM: As darkness finally slides over the tin and clay-shingled Cobán rooftops, drips make a soft, then louder piddle-paddle on our roof.

"Here it comes.." I say nonchalantly to Justin, as I head out to the deck for my favorite writing spot. After almost a month of constant, non-blogging travel, I finally have a chance to unwind and rehash on what I've been experiencing. It's perfect timing, too. The rain starts pouring harder, and I am once again filled with that peaceful feeling I get when watching a rainforest downpour on the elegant mountains from the interior of the monastery's grounds, still dry and safe in the confines of Bernie's old rocking chair. I open up "Jan 2012 Blog" on my computer, chuckling to myself that I haven't bothered to change document titles or open a new document.

"It must be psychologically easier to write on a document that already has work done on it already," I think to myself. I turn on Enya's "Caribbean Blue" on iTunes to maximize the ambiance of my situation, and dive into the days of the recent past...]

Finally, after almost a month of continuous traveling, Justin and I were landed at Resurrection Priory for a good three weeks. This couldn't have been at a better time. At one of Bernie's Semi-Biannual Schedule meetings, we determined that these three weeks were perfect for preparing San Basilio, two of the monastery's newest buildings, for a visit in May by another group from Saint Patrick's Parish. We painted several walls and cleaned up the place. On days we were waiting on more material for the San Basilio restoration, we worked on drafting several more elements to the monastery's website. While I'm very satisfied with our progress, I am starting to realize that I will need to pass on the website to the next volunteers before the site comes to true fruition. Regardless, I am prepared to make their transition as smooth as possible.

Before we knew it, April passed, and we faced a long but exciting journey to Playa del Carmen (close to Cancun). Fellow Johnnie David Forster's family has a place in Playa Del Carmen and he, along with several other legendary men, johnnie and non-johnnie alike, were coming down to Playa for a spring break of sorts from work. Justin and I were invited, as was Evan Forsycthe, our new friend from Tela.   We began our journey by meeting Evan in Flores, a beautiful city located on an island in the middle of Lake Itza. Evan had been in Guatemala for the last month, and ended up getting his return flight out of Cancún.

Anyway, This lake is located in Peten, Guatemala's most northern, more touristy and most risky department. Unlike Flores neighboring mainland city, Santa Elena, Flores gave out a very relaxed vibe. The island is mapped with a series of semi-organized gridlocks, enveloped by major road that circumnavigates the island's shore. The highest point of the island apexes at basketball court, which is also in the center of the island. Lots of restaurants line the west side of the island, offering great drink specials and, if you're lucky, a breathtaking sunset. We did a bit of both. After buying a quick meal and a few happy hour specials, we visited the local supermarket to fashion our own kind of happy hour as the sun dipped underneath the western trees over Itza.

An early 4:30a.m. bus ride brought our heavy heads awake. We reached the Guatemalan-Beliziean Border around 9:00.a.m with no complications. We were in Belize City by noon, and on a bus to Chetumal, Mexico by 2:00p.m. We settled into our ice-cold air-conditioned hotel room in Chetumal by around 6:30p.m., and it was only then that I realized I had been in three different countries in one day.

When a group of 3 independent travelers are using taxis, buses, paying for meals, etc., the laundry list for expenses can get long. Taxi cab rides are often easier if one person pays, as are some bus tickets. This is made even more complicated when four different currencies are involved (Guatemalan Quetzal, Belizean Dollar, Mexican Peso, American Dollar). While it took a bit a of time, a few spreadsheets and a few green-tinted visor hats, we did finally figure out who owed what. Check out our final product (see left).

Thursday finally brought us to Playa del Carmen. After an over-expensive bus ride and a reasonable taxi, we arrived at Marreazul Resort and Condominiums. We were greeted warmly by our fellow Johnnie brethren, and promptly handed an ice-cold, lime-topped Coronita. 

The resort was gorgeous, quiet, and serene. We had use of two condos; David's family's condo, as well as another rented condo that we split evenly amongst the guests staying. Both condos were equipped with everything you could want; an excellent kitchen, several flat screen TV's, laundry room, massive king-sized beds and a spacious deck which gave a great view of both the pool and ocean. 

The trip to Playa Del Carmen meant the world to me, not because of where it was, but who I shared the experiences with. Playa Del Carmen's town is very touristy, and very little authentic Mexican culture is shown in the streets of these neon-flashing shops. Bars were packed and overpriced, and there were plenty of scams and places to lose money. This doesn't mean, however, that it isn't the perfect playground for a group of 12 "young-professionals." We spent most of our days drinking Corona by the ocean, playing volleyball, soaking in the rays, tossing a football around the pool, and even found ourselves playing a big game of basketball at a nearby park. At night, we explored the bar life and went night swimming. A young guy named Zach, who was staying for a month at his family's condo across the pool, joined us for the "Case Opening" on Friday. Zach was in Playa for a month hoping to brush up on his Spanish by taking classes in town. Zach ended up being an invaluable addition to our crew, especially to Evan, Justin, and I. When the whole Johnnie crew left for the airport on Monday, Zach let Evan, Justin, and me crash at his condo suite (see below) until we departed on Wednesday.

Staying at the Marreazul Resort was pleasant except for the fact that we didn't necessarily feel very welcomed by their staff. You see, Playa had just survived the last month of "Spring Break 2012." Because Marreazul hasn't been able to fill their expansive 800-some condos with residents, the company had ended up renting out many of the flats to college-age spring break kids. This turned into quite a fiasco for the residents that DID live there during this time, as many of the college kids did not behave according to the usual quiet setting dictated by Marreazul's location (northern most resort on the beach). This left us with some pretty wired security crew controlling the grounds. Whenever we left, arrived, or even when we were relaxing by the pool, some white-collared, short-sleeve security officer (there were several) would be watching us like hawks. We weren't allowed to throw a football in the middle courtyard or run on the grass; jumping into the deep end of the pool was also strictly forbidden. Still, we were able to walk anywhere with a cold beer in our hand, and to us, that was all that mattered.

The Playa Crew

Tela Tales

It wasn't too long before Justin and I hit the trail again. After staying only a week at the monastery (where we we finally really able to achieve progress with the website.. once again thanks to Kurtis' help!), Holy Week or "Semana Santa" was upon us. Our plans were to meet up with the CSB/SJU Guatemala Study Abroad crew in Tela, Honduras, where many Hondurans go for vacation. In typical style, Justin and I neglected to pay for a bus ticket direct from Antigua (about 6 hours away from Cobán) to Tela, a full day worth of traveling. Having gotten a hint as to where it would be most convenient to cross over the Guatemalan-Honduran border, Justin and I headed to "Entre Rios," A small town outside of Puerto Barrios and the eastern frontera. We arrived at the border at 5:30p.m. to discover that there were no other buses leaving for the day. Our choice was to pay for an overly expensive hotel, or each pay $100 cab ride to get to Tela that night (we already have a hotel reservation, too). Since we were told that public transportation was rather expensive (we found out later this wasn't at all true), we chose the cab. 

 3 hours, 4000 lempiras, a gas station sandwich, and a box of cheap red wine later, we arrived at our Tela hotel, a slick establishment with the best view of the city. Familiar faces such as Collin Motschke, Bryton Overton (still owe you $50 man!), Alivia Tison, Kirsti Klaverkamp, Nicola Franta and many more wonderful bennie and johnnie personalities. I spent a lot of time getting to know and kindling a close friendship with Evan Forsythe, a johnnie from my graduating class that had come down independently for a month to learn Spanish and become immersed in the culture. Evan and I shared in fantastic adventures, including finding fresh "cocos" and buying them at a discounted price. There's nothin' better than some fresh coco right outta the nut. And yes... we did actually put limes in the coconuts and shake 'em all up.

Coco Loco Fiesta 

Jammin' out with fellow beach buddies 

The three days at Tela were fun because of the company rather than the place. Tela ended up being a rather run down city. Electric wire strung between buildings, most densely over busy main streets, and gave a perpetual "christmas-lights-up-in-July" feeling (I'm sorry... I once again neglected to bring my camera). The beaches were packed with Honduran families, and several stage-like dance floors were set up all along the oceanside. Fewer foreigners were here, as we later found out that the big tourist places to visit are Utila and Roatoan, a couple of islands off of the Honduran coast farther south. Having spent money on a $100 cab ride, Justin and I were in no position to do much touring around, and neither was the rest of the group. It was a great group dynamic. Everyone did their own thing, but were also inclusive. Some people went snorkeling with local tours, some went running with Justin, some shopping. I spent most of my three days at the beach, soaking in the sun and playing my newest fun instrument, the Ukelele. 

We did check out the night life a bit as well. The stage-like dance floors were a blast, and stayed open till the sun came up. On our first night out in the town we met up with a group of English-speaking Hondurans. They were a group of  culinary students from the National University of Honduras. I spent most of my time talking to Ana Rubio, a beautiful young lady with quite a passion for her studies and an incredibly interesting life story. On the last day in Tela, I spend the day with this fun group in one of Honduras's National Parks and beaches. The group dynamic was fantastic. A constant vibe of happiness surrounded their conversation; I miss them all. 

Our journey back from Tela wasn't nearly as bad as the arrival. Justin and I started our journey at 6:30a.m. and arrived back at the monastery in Cobán by midnight. Bus fares were cheap, and crossing the border was easy. Our only painful experience was the micro-bus back from El Rancho (about 2.5 hours away from Cobán). In one little Euro-van styled bus, these crazy drivers fit in at least 40 people because it was the last run of the night; standing, leaning, squashed, I've never had a more miserable bus experience. We were certainly happy to finally reach our beds, where our desk lights weren't even turned on before we hit the pillow.