I'm nearing the end of this journey, getting on my last bus tomorrow morning, to go to my last stop, Mexico City.  Although lately, I have been taking some time each day to piece together work for myself for when I return, I am still loving every minute of my time here in Mexico.

Here in Oaxaca, I have eaten delicious food (especially pastries!), found great independent bookstores, seen an amazing exhibit at the Textile Museum, and tonight I stopped to watch a clown performing in the Zócalo. Unfortunately, my Spanish is still not advanced enough to have understood his quickly spouted, rambling jokes, which is too bad because everyone was cracking up, and one of his jokes was about me 😜.

Before I came to this city, I was in a small village called Teotitlan del Valle, mostly populated by indigenous Zapotec folks.  I stayed in an Airbnb here where the mother of the family who lived there taught me how to weave on their giant floor looms. I made a rug! 

Señor Cena (Mr. Dinner) kept me company the whole time. 

I also hiked to the top of this hill one day, El Picacho. It is a very sacred site for the people here.

I travelled to this village from an even smaller village in the Sierra Sur, the Southern mountains of the state of Oaxaca, San Sebastian Rio Hondo. This is where I left off in my last post.

I truly felt at home here in these beautiful pine-forested mountains, volunteering in this sweet Montessori school, supporting them in bringing some more inspiration from the Waldorf philosophy to their preschool.  

I felt so lucky to stay with a woman (and her family) who is an amazing knitter and cook. She makes the tortillas for the whole village, and also cooks the delicious lunches for the school. Oh, I am already missing her cooking, and those tortillas!

I made so many friends here during my 3 1/2 week stay, and I was thinking if I could only return to one of the places I visited on this trip, it would be this place.  But then I remember how beautiful Lake Atitlan is and want to return there, and how much I loved my Spanish school (I could really stand to study more!). And those cenotes in Tulúm! I wish I could jump in one right now.  And then I think of all the places I haven't been yet - Peru, Ireland, Puerto Rico, Nepal... (stay tuned! 😉)

I am 5 days away from the end of this trip, and I am excited to go back to Portland. I don't know how to describe the feeling that comes from travelling for so long, from being away from home for so long. I feel energized and inspired. It brings a new perspective, changing how I look at everyday life at home...or at least it feels that way now... we'll see how it feels when I get there.  But I think there is this travelling mindset that sinks in ~ this openness to meeting new people wherever you go ~ this sense of wonder and awe in exploring new places and ideas ~ this flexibility that allows you to be ok with new experiences, like wearing the same 5 outfits for 3 months, like taking bucket showers, waiting an hour for the water to heat up on the fire, like falling asleep and waking up to the sounds of dogs barking, roosters crowing, donkeys braying, and turkeys gobbling, like not always being able to communicate everything you're thinking but still finding ways to connect with folks, like not having constant access to the internet...

Of course I will appreciate coming back to the comforts of home ~ cooking whatever I want to eat in my own kitchen ~ riding my bike ~ having access to my books, craft supplies, and clothes ~ and of course re-connecting with friends, family, my cats, and the land, plants, and animals of the Pacific Northwest.  But I hope to stay connected to this way of interacting with the world once I'm back home, at least for a while, and then I could go on another adventure! 

But for now, I'm really looking forward to being in Portland, just in time for Spring! 

It's hard to remember that it's winter these days ;)

From the terrace of my cabaña at a hostel in Mazunte, on a hill above the beach, I was trying to imagine cold and rainy Portland, my land-mate back home, fighting off raccoons in the middle of the night to save our chickens and ducks.  I was trying to imagine driving my car, listening to the news on public radio, or the sounds of geese and the great horned owls. Or the first buds starting to open in the forest after a long winter.  It felt so far away.

Then I started imagining where I was going next, a small ecovillage, in a small village in the mountains of Southern Oaxaca, with a little preschool and primary school for the local indigenous children as well as the children of the foreigners who live there. I could feel myself already there, and so excited to get inspired and help as a volunteer in any way I could.

And now, after a 2-hour collectivo ride through the extremely windy mountain roads, with the driver going so fast around the curves, wondering if I should have brought a plastic bag with me (just in case - or is my stomach strong enough?), I have arrived here at Ecovillananda.  Again, I find myself up around 8000ft, but here, the air is so clean. Again, cold nights and sunny days, the familiar sounds of turkeys gobbling, roosters crowing, and the occasional eruption of dogs barking. I can't wait to get to know this place, already feeling that 3 1/2 weeks will be too short.

I am back in Xela after 2 weeks at La Escuela de la Montaña, which is in a small village in the mountains, with many trees and plants everywhere. It was a welcome change from Xela, where I found that I was out of breath a lot. Not only was I breathing in so much exhaust from the cars and buses as I walked through the streets, on the tiny sidewalks, but the city is at about 8000ft, which I am not accustomed to.  Although it is called the Mountain School, I believe we were at a lower altitude, and I found it much easier to breathe.

At both schools, we had host families. In Xela, I stayed at their house, with my own room. I lived with 4 wonderful women (3 sisters and their mother). They also had 2 dogs and 1 chicken, who slept in a cardboard box in the house at night, roaming the yard during the day.  She laid her first egg while I was there!

I loved my host family. One sister worked part-time in a lawyer's office. Another sister worked remotely for a television station in Antigua, and the other sister attended University. They all also helped their mother tend the store that was connected to their house. The bell was always ringing when there was a customer, and they took turns going to help them.  I got into the rhythm of joining them, with my knitting, every evening to watch their telenovela (soap opera) before dinner.  It is a good way to learn a language -- watching soap operas.

The mother, and sometimes the sisters, made the best meals. The most typical food was eggs, refried black beans, plantains, and of course, tortillas -- always tortillas -- but it seemed that every meal was different, and delicious.  When I was sick with the flu for a couple of days, she made me chicken noodle soup.  One morning, she made pancakes. And one of the best treats was arroz con leche - rice with milk and sugar, for drinking.

At the Mountain School, we didn't sleep at our host family's house, just ate our meals there. The people in this village were extremely poor. They cooked our meals over fire on stoves made of cement blocks and metal. Many of the men would wake up at 4am to sometimes travel very far to go to the coffee farms to work, and it wasn't always sure that they would have work.  Some families had much nicer houses because one of the family members was in the United States sending back money.

To get to the United States legally from Guatemala, you need to have $125 US dollars just to make an appointment at the embassy to ask for a visa, and they will most likely say no, unless you know someone with influence, or have even more money.  So it is basically impossible for almost all of the families in this village because $125 is a TON of money for them.

Of course, most of my time this past month has been spent studying Spanish - in class 5 hours/day, 5 days/week, one-on-one with a different teacher each week. Then I had a lot of homework as well. Before I arrived at PLQ, I was a bit overwhelmed by the idea of so much time in class, but I was happy to find that the time really flew by.  All of my teachers were great at balancing teaching new grammar, practicing with exercises and worksheets, and conversation.  I spent a lot of time in classes talking  with my teachers about visions of the future, possibilities, politics, education, plant medicine, and so much more.

The last day of my second week in the city, my teacher and I really bonded when in the middle of a grammar lesson, the table started to shake. We were actually up on the second floor of a wooden building, a bit outside of where everyone was studying. The whole room began to shake quite a bit. Un temblor! They didn't call it an earthquake, more of a tremor, but it lasted at least 30 seconds, maybe longer.  Everyone was safe, but it was definitely a little scary, even for my teacher, who is used to them, with so many volcanoes and a fault line in this part of Guatemala. This was my first earthquake experience ever.  Apparently, it was a 6.5 at the epicenter, just over the border in Chiapas, Mexico. We were far away from there, so it wasn't as strong for us.

In Xela, I went on many field trips my first week. One of them was a hike to the viewpoint of a volcano, where the last picture of me was taken in my last post.  Our guide led us up this steep dusty trail so fast at 7am on Saturday. I love hiking, but I like to go slow, stopping every few minutes to look at plants or birds, so this hike was very hard for me, especially at 8000ft.  But we had to get to the viewpoint quickly to see the smoking crater before the clouds rolled in, which they did only 15 minutes after we arrived.  While our guide was telling us stories of his time fighting in the war, in those very mountains where we sat, we heard a rumbling sound, which, if you weren't paying attention, might have sounded like an airplane. But there were never airplanes flying overhead, and it was the volcano.  Then we saw thick smoke rising from the crater above the clouds. This place is very alive.

My second week in the city, I skipped a lot of the field trips so I could learn how to weave with a backstrap loom at a place called Trama Textiles.  This is a women's weaving cooperative where women from all over the surrounding villages, which are quite poor and still living with the effects of 30 years of civil war and a corrupt government, can bring their creations and get paid a price that they think is fair.  The women who run the organization, who are also Mayan women, have a store where they sell these beautiful clothes, bags, and other fabrics.  They also offer classes about weaving and embroidery.  So I spent 11 hours, over the course of a few days, on one project.  I have been trying to support these women's cooperatives when I can. There are so many little stores where you can buy these beautiful items, but I am often skeptical about who is profiting off of these sales.  So with the cooperatives, I have more confidence that I am paying a fair price, and that it actually goes to the people who did the work.

There are so many more stories to tell, but there is only so much I can write on my phone.  I am sad to be done studying Spanish.  I learned so much! But I've been feeling like there is a wall in my brain between everything I know and my ability to speak the language. I am hoping that my next 6 weeks in Mexico will give me the opportunity to practice more and break down this wall. I leave for Chiapas tomorrow morning. I am excited for the next leg of my journey, but sad to be leaving this beautiful country where the people are so nice.

If you have any interest in learning Spanish, I highly highly recommend PLQ and La Escuela de la Montaña. Not only do you get so much out of it, but your tuition truly goes toward supporting the local communities here and their projects.

Yet another amazing 2 weeks of this trip! With a recommendation from a dear friend, I have been attending an awesome Spanish language school here in Xela (Quetzaltenango), Guatemala. It's called PLQ, and I came here because the school has a strong social justice focus. It supports many local community programs, and is committed to teaching all students about the history, politics, and local community issues of the country, with presentations, documentaries, and field trips with local guides. My time here has been so educational, with a lot of intense and depressing information, and inspirational teachers.

As I learned about how recently war was the way of life here, I was reminded of how we do not get taught this kind of history/world politics in schools in the US (at least I didn't).  There are a lot of important things children don't learn in school, but I suppose that is a whole other blog.

The history of colonization in Guatemala, and of how the indigenous people here are and have been treated, is not unfamiliar if you have have studied the history of colonization and oppression of indigenous people in the US. Guatemala has a large population of indigenous Mayan people, with 21 of the 24 languages spoken here being different Mayan languages, such as K'iche, Mam, and Tzutujil.  In the 1800s, the government stole land from the indigenous people and gave it to German coffee farmers, and then made new laws allowing the rounding up of landless folks and forcing them into slave labor for the coffee harvest every year.  Also, these coffee farm owners were granted immunity for certain crimes, such as murder.

It wasn't until 1944, when a revolution sparked a 10-year Democratic Spring in Guatemala, that the lower and middle-class began to get more of a voice, with the new presidents during this time working toward social and economic change, including better health care and education, voting rights for women, and restricting the privileges of the elite class. First Juan Jose Arevalo, and then Jacobo Arbenz Guzman, were the presidents during this time. When Arbenz decided to enact a land reform law, which would take away unused agricultural land from large property owners to give to landless rural folks (remember how it was their land to begin with?), guess who didn't like this ~ The United Fruit Company. And guess who were major stockholders of the UFC at the time ~ the US Secretary of State and the director of the CIA.  So, of course, the US/CIA organized a coup to stop this from happening, and put in power someone they liked better. All of this took place over a few years, and eventually led to a major civil war in Guatemala, lasting from 1960 to 1996. So many people died and were disappeared, 83% of them, indigenous Mayans, and the majority of humans rights violations were found to be committed by the state.

So much violence, tragedy, corruption, and trauma, and not that long ago.  The war is now in the past, but the reality today is that there are still very few work opportunities, especially for the rural indigenous folks. There are many transnational companies here, and mega-projects happening, including mining, hydroelectric, African palm oil, sugarcane, and bananas. These companies are all either using up valuable resources, such as land and water, or polluting them, or both, and this has sparked a lot of community resistance, which in turn triggers more violence from the state, and at least 196 activists have been assassinated since 2000. So there is still a lot of work to be done fighting corruption here in Guatemala.

Back in 2006, an agreement between the United Nations and Guatemala set up an independent body called the CICIG, the International Commission Against Impunity in Guatemala, which has been successfully working against corruption in the government, and other organized crime. Unfortunately, the current president, Jimmy Morales, another celebrity-turned-president, who is being investigated for illegal campaign funding and sexual harrassment by the CICIG, declared last year that he would not be renewing the agreement allowing the CICIG to continue its work in Guatemala. At least 71% of Guatemalans are against this decision, and it is dangerous for many reasons.

I have left out so many details, and key figures, but I really wanted to share with you a bit of what I have been learning here (without writing a book about it). In fact, there already is a book about some of this that was recommended to me, called Bitter Fruit: The Story of the American Coup in Guatemala by Stephen Kinzer.  Learning about the history, the politics, and the realities of life for people here was one of the goals I had for this trip. With all of the talk and news and rhetoric about immigration and caravans of refugees coming to the US, I feel it is important to hear the stories of real people with first-hand experience, in order to understand the complexity of the situation. This is what PLQ is making possible for me, and I am so grateful.  Next time I share, less history, more first-hand accounts, plus other lighter stories of my time here, including stories about animals, food, weaving, weather, volcanoes, earthquakes, and more, oh, and more pictures.

This morning, I head to PLQ's sister school, La Escuela de la Montaña, for 2 more weeks of studying Spanish. I have heard it's very similar to PLQ, but a bit warmer, and not in the city, so, more nature, which I am really excited about!

I am so grateful for the last 10 days of my life staying at HeartFire Farm right on the magical lake ~ Lago Atítlan. There is a lot of history here of volcanoes, storms, civil wars, colonization, and the Tzutijil Mayans, who make up the majority of the population here in Santiago, one of the many villages on this lake. Walking down the street, I more often hear people speaking Tzutijil than Spanish.  At the same time, the local alternative school is making an effort to teach the children the Tzutijil language and other aspects of the culture, so they have Tzutijil Fridays for the children because many parents don't speak the language anymore.

It seems to be a fairly simple life here in Santiago, at least from my perspective as a visitor. Yes, there are internet cafes and fast food restaurants, but also, many people get around here by walking, taking the tiny 3-wheeled tuc-tucs, or standing in the back of a pick-up truck with 20 other people. There are women down in the lake washing clothes all day every day, and you see men hauling huge loads of firewood and other heavy items on their backs. They are not immune to the problem of plastic trash here, although many of the villages are starting to ban plastic bags and straws.

All of this is happening around one of the most beautiful places I've been, a lake made famous (at least to me) by the writer Martin Prechtel.  Although not everyone in this town he once called home and wrote about prolifically adores him as much as many adore his books and teachings, I must admit it is quite amazing to be reading passages from his book about the Elbow of the Earth volcano and the Thrones of the Clouds Mountains, and then look up from the book and see exactly what he is talking about in front of my eyes.  Or to be working on the farm, and hear a woman wailing in grief at the cemetery next door, and remember the stories he wrote in his book on grieving, that according to the Mayans here, it is our tears and songs that help those who have died row across to the land of the ancestors.
All of these thoughts fill my head as I immerse myself into life on this farm, in this town. It's only been 10 days, but it feels like forever (in a good way).

Just down the hill and across the road from the cemetery, live a wonderful family ~ mom, dad, and their 9-year-old daughter. And their 4 horses, 10-15 ducks (with ducklings on the way), 2 peacocks, 3 cats, and 8 dogs (two of whom are brand new puppies).  I found this family through Workaway, a website that connects people who need volunteers with travellers looking for this kind of experience.  Volunteers work 5 hours/day, 5 days/week for a place to stay and 2 meals/day, not to mention a one-of-a-kind experience.

Every weekday morning, we shovel the manure out of the horse corral and then get on to any number of needed jobs around the farm, from compost building for their compost-heated outdoor shower, watering the bamboo and gardens, or painting/rust-proofing these metal frames which will be used to hold colored glasses over people lying on top of these meditation beds, the colors associated with your chakras.  All of these meditation beds are surrounding the temple at the top of the property. The temple is a place for ceremonies, and was built on top of an old tomb.

Things take time here on the farm, and while there are so many beautiful buildings, gardens, and animals here, it is only the beginning. There is such a rich vision for this place, and although I won't see a huge effect from my work this week, I am so grateful to be a part in getting just a little closer, and enjoying what has already been accomplished.  There are beautiful super-adobe and ferro-cement buildings, tire sculptures, and a temescal (a traditional sauna).

One of my favorite days was being invited to attend a garden planning meeting at the local cooperative school, just a five minute walk down the road from the farm, where the 9-year-old goes to school.  They are creating school gardens and outdoor play spaces for the children, and we're talking about how to incorporate all of this into the daily school rhythms and curriculum for each of the grades and pre-school. I was honored to be included, and so inspired to see this kind of environmental education happening here.

Most of this meeting was in Spanish, and I found that I understood about 95% of what was being said. And now today, I just travelled a couple hours to the city of Xela to learn Spanish.  So I have left my days of swimming at the lake, getting cocovered in duck sludge and dust, hanging out with my great new friend from England, one of the other volunteers, and looking at the stars every night so I can gain a skill I have been working towards for a while now. I will be studying in class 5 hours/day, and living with a host family. I am very excited!

A week travelling so far... I sit in the Central Park of Antigua in Guatemala. The cool air is refreshing and I am surrounded by mountains and volcanoes, trying to avoid the tiny blessings from the pigeons in the trees above. A little boy with a t-shirt that says "Monster Rally" drives his remote control truck into the flocks of pigeons and yells at them. Really, this could be anywhere, but Mayan women walk by with baskets on their head, selling many beautiful things for tourists or just little bags of seeds to feed the pigeons. Bells ringing, and little wooden flutes are played to entice us tourists into buying them. Some guys are taking Christmas lights down from the trees. Backpackers meet up, and locals and tourists alike sit on the park benches eating, resting, meeting friends, and I sit and write in my journal.

Thinking back over the last week. Qué viaje! What a journey.  From the very first minutes at the Cancún airport losing my little folder of very important papers, putting my spotty Spanish to the test in a stressful moment, reminded of the challenges of travelling.  Even when you plan ahead, you buy your bus ticket to make your arrival smooth and easy, things happen and you lose the ticket, so you have to wing it. It's fine though, as long as you are flexible. And this is something I am quite practiced in. So I got to my hostel a little later than planned, hot and sweaty, knowing what true gratitude feels like, gratitude for a simple bed and safe shelter.

Arriving in Tulúm in the peak of peak tourist season was a bit overwhelming at first, but I got the hang of it. The first day walking a couple miles to the ancient Mayan ruins, sometimes in the pouring rain which was welcome on such a hot day...walking back along the beach, beautiful but full of hotels and their guests. 

The next day, after renting a bike, I found myself on side streets, where the locals live, where everything does not exist solely for tourists. The bicycle gave my feet a rest, and rode out to a cenote to do some swimming. This part of the country is full of these cenotes, limestone sinkholes filled with cold fresh water where you can swim into caves, bats flying around you. I'd say this was my favorite part of my time in Tulúm.

After 4 days and nights, I ventured to Belize with a long, but comfortable, bus ride. Crossing the border took a little longer than expected, and I got off the bus at a town called Orange Walk, so I wouldn't have to backtrack from Belize City. My next stop was Crooked Tree Village. I caught a local bus to the road to Crooked Tree, which is a small island surrounded by lagoons and rivers, reminding me so much of my island home, except that instead of berries, pumpkins, and corn, cashews and mangoes were the main crops here (although sadly not in season).  And instead of sandhill cranes and geese, there were ibises, egrets, jacanas, and the elusive jabiru storks, which can be 5ft tall with a wingspan of 7ft! I did not see these storks, but saw many other beautiful birds, butterflies, and turtles... Even those lizards that run on their hind legs. The museum here taught me that Belize is the birthplace of Creole culture, as well as some of the history of the Mayan people, as well as the people living there before the Mayans, and European colonization.

After one full day here, I was already off to Guatemala. Another long bus ride, but this time my bus driver dropped me off right in front of my guesthouse, when we weren't even supposed to stop in that town.  While I never expect people to go out of their way like this, I have learned not to be surprised by these acts of kindness, especially when travelling. It had not even been a week, and this was the second time someone had helped me get where I was going without even being asked. (I can't tell you all the stories here😉 I have to leave some for when I get home.)

So this first stop in Guatemala - El Remate - was my home base for visiting Tikal, which I believe is one of the biggest sites of Mayan ruins. What an amazing place with huge stone temples and buildings hiding in the jungle, with spider monkeys and howler monkeys and toucans in the trees, knowing the jaguars were sleeping somewhere nearby too. I imagined a Humming Hive in Tikal as I walked through the jungle, with the howler monkeys screaming - it sounded like dinosaurs or some other large and dangerous creatures calling back and forth to each other.

 The view from the top of the tallest temple:

Another short stay, followed by the longest bus ride yet, all the way down through tiny rural villages, through Guatemala City, a giant city where we sat in the worst traffic I've ever experienced, and finally arriving here in Antigua. Today is my only day here, but I'm so glad I stopped here, colorful cobblestone streets with the volcano towering overhead.

I am looking forward to my next stop being longer - 10 days on a family's permaculture farm next to Lago Atitlan, and then a month in Xela at a language school.

Thank you for reading. Everyone always asks if I am travelling alone. Yes, I am. But even when I am not connecting with people on my travels, I feel my friends and family are with me in spirit.

A long time coming

I'm starting up my blog again, the one I began when I went to Europe for about 8 months, back in 2006, which I continued while working on a farm in Western Virginia, and into my first year living in Portland, Oregon.

After this, I got a little distracted opening and running Humming Hive for over 7 years.

 That was quite the journey itself, and I am so grateful for the experience, the community that grew out of it, and all of the memories shared in the forest with the children, their families, and other teachers.

Well, I've made a big loop, or a spiral of some kind and now I've decided to head down a trail that I passed by a long time ago. In fact, I was contemplating, planning even, choosing this trail when all of a sudden the option came along of free airfare to Europe and a lovely invitation for a bus tour through Germany with family. If you want to know how that trip turned out, go back to the first post. If you're just here for current events, follow along from here.

So I've been dreaming about this Southern journey for almost 15 years. The full vision is visiting all countries in Central and South America, beginning with Mexico. I loved to imagine myself taking years to complete this journey.  Well, it seems that this is a hard vision to get started on, perhaps a bit overwhelming.  So I'm taking baby steps. 3 months in Southern Mexico, Belize, and Guatemala. Will this inspire me to continue farther? Or will I wait a few years for the next leg of the journey? Or will this fully satisfy my wanderlust? (Ha! That one is doubtful!)

I'll be documenting my journey here with pictures and stories. Thank you for reading! Please enjoy!