I wrote this part while in Guatemala, but never had the time to finish it up:

My time in Guatemala has been well spent. I bussed it to Guatemala in just over 20 hours, walked across the border, and was given a ride by a group of Guatemalan fire fighters who were headed to a fire. Its been amazing despite my lack of skills with a Guatemalan keyboard. I cant seem to find the apostrophe!

The border was just as shady as Mary and I had expected. Men would come up to us from the shadows to rip us off on the money conversion, guide us through the passport process (only to receive a tip at the end), or to offer us a ride with them. We came to the border not really knowing how to get to Xela (the city is also called Quetzaltenango that we were going to), but we figured that everything would work out. Needless to say, we had two men trying to bribe us with our own money to go with them. We chose to go in the coach bus, rather than in a taxi with just the two of us. But, they ended up dropping us off on the side of the road where there were army men with their machine guns and mayan women trying to sell their fruit. Strangely enough, there was also a tourist stand and this man told us to wait for a chicken bus, which zoomed by with a man yelling Xela. We hopped on- I wish the Guatemalans made mix tapes of their music on the buses and were a little safer with their driving. They dropped us off on this dark alley in Xela, but Mary and I found some fire fighters who offered to drive us right to the hostel we were supposed to be staying at. And, they were on their way to a fire!

Mary and I spent our first three nights in a hostel in the city of Quetzaltenango and met a Brazilian and Guatemalan who were hiking up Santa Maria, a dormant volcano, the following day. They asked if we were interested in coming along, and of course we said why not? I have some beautiful pictures of it and us with our Guatemalan guide Daniel. That night we met up with Quetzaltrekkers to discuss our 6-day trek the following day.

The trek was everything I love about camping and backpacking. We were a group of 12: two from Austrailia, two from Israel, one from Germany, three guides and I'm losing track of the others. We started in Nebaj, a small town in Guatemala, spent the night in a hostel, and ate an amazing meal with homemade mango pie and vegan ice cream. Unfortunately, that night it rained terribly and the day was full of uphill hiking with caked mud on our feet. Mary would tell me that just ahead there were rocks...but there would only be a foot of them. My boots were probably 10-20 pounds heavier due to the mud. That night we stayed in a village of 25 families in their community center/school. They provided these amazingly warm blankets, three hammocks, dinner, and a place to shower. The shower is called a tempascal- they have this small little hut with a fireplace in the corner. It's almost as if you're in a sauna. They provide you with endless buckets of hot and cold water.

Anyways, day three then was full of hiking. My knee had been hurting all of this time after Santa Maria...but I had the mentality that if I kept hiking on it, it would feel better. I wish life worked that way. We stopped at a Swiss family's home to buy some of their cheese for our lunch and hiked on. The views were gorgeous this day...we ate lunch in front of this tiny village and played with some of the Mayan children in the village.

But, Guatemala was absolutely stunning the whole time. The fog would roll out of one of the valleys that we were hiking and reveal a view of the mountains. That night we stayed on the side of a mountain in front of an unused school on a concrete floor. The stars and moon were so bright that we would wake up thinking it was morning. We awoke at 6am and after 15 minutes of painful hiking for my knee, one of the guides, Charlie, asked how I was doing. We decided to go off trail in order to head back to Xela because it would be mostly downhill hiking that day. We didn't realize that it was Semana Santa..the day before easter, which is one of the most important holidays for the Mayans.

So, we were hiking in the mountains of Guatemala, asking every home with a car (which was about 6 homes with cars after 3 hours of hiking) if they would drive us to some sort of civilization. No one was home...this one guy did sell us some plums and another mayan man rubbed some cream on my knee. Our first car to drive by us drove us down to a huge soccer game, filled with the indigenous people. The people in the villages don't typically see white people and therefore stared at us and were so interested in everything we were doing. Many of the men were also drunk and would come to talk to us in Spanish/their dialect of Mayan. We moved to some shade underneath this truck, and when Charlie went to go to the bathrooom, a small girl began talking with me, which caused 15 more children to encircle me and listen in to our conversation. They were so intrigued by our differences.

Finally, a family was leaving and we hopped into the back of their pickup truck with about 10 other Mayans. It probably took an hour to go down the mountain, in which we were in Huehuetenango...a town a little more populated. From there, we paid this van to take us to Xela, though they dropped us off 30 minutes outside. One of the woman with us was so pissed off at them for lying to us....So then, Charlie and I hitchhiked our way back to Xela.

All in all it was such a fascinating day, especially to talk with and see the culture of the Mayans. Many of the men would explain to us that they had worked in the US for a few years and want to go back for the money. They had worked in New York, Colorado, Virginia, and Alabama to name a few.

I hung out at the hostel for the next two nights, waiting for Mary to finish the hike; went to Fuentes Georginas, a natural hot spring about an hour away from Xela. The driver told me that he had walked in the desert for three days and nights without food in order to work in the states. However, he was caught by immigration, sent to jail for a month, and flown back to Guatemala. I asked if he planned on going back, but apparently not as the government has his fingerprints.

I've been thinking a lot about the poverty in Guatemala and life certainly is hard there. The people work on the steep slopes of the mountains, farming fruits and vegetables, which are sent around the world. They see so little money. Mary and I were reading in the central park and had to leave because literally every five minutes we would be asked for money. But, many of the families are happy with their lives and content with what little that they have. Those that flee to the US to make more money end up dissatisfied with their Guatemalan lives. Before Guatemala I figured that if you were poor, yet able to provide for your family and happy with what you have, then does that mean poverty? But, now all these Guatemalans go to the US and become as materialistic as Americans are. Also, when I asked Charlie what he thought of the poverty in Guatemala and he began explaining how the women in the states are so unhappy that they find themselves throwing up and starving to meet this impossible image. Then, there are the Guatemalans who are malnourished, impoverished and simply trying to survive. So, which is better: a psychological problem or a problem with having enough food.

I'm still sorting it out..and that may not have made any sense.

But all in all, the trip to Guatemala was inspiring: I was able to gain some insight into the Guatemalan troubles, see the beautiful countryside, and who knows what else.