Finding Myself in Guatemala

Local wanderings included visits to the coffee plantation, the secondary school nearby, and a trip up one of the volcanoes by horseback. We ventured outside Antigua and traveled to Chichicastenango, a market town, Monterrico, and Lake Atitlan. The highlight was a trip to Tikal, where we ziplined across trees in the jungle and climbed to the top of the tallest temple to watch the sunset.

I did my best to speak Spanish, though so many people in Antigua knew English that it was hard to be disciplined. We had optional salsa lessons every other afternoon at school, and almost everyone danced at every lesson. In fact, there were quite a few of us—led by our new Guatemalan friends—who went out dancing almost every night.     

And, of course, I “fell in love.” First with a man I met at a salsa club and then with one of my teachers, Leonel, who used his charm to get me out of the classroom. We went bike riding all around Antigua and the nearby villages. He took me on a tour of the local churches, and we hiked up to the top of the hills in Antigua so I could experience a panoramic view of the entire town.

Every day seemed filled with a week’s worth of adventures and stories. The self-critical voices reared their ugly heads every now and then, but as time went by, I found that I could sit with my fear and not be swallowed by it. I could feel the pull of memory and sadness, but more often than not, I found myself easily choosing to be present instead. At one point, one of the Amerispan leaders confided that she was leaving and asked me if I wanted to stay. It was tempting, but a bigger part of me was excited to return home and see if I could carry this happiness back with me.

I still keep in touch with my salsa teacher, Freddy, as well as Joel and Maria on occasion. I always carry with me the power of knowing that I can, in fact, choose to believe in myself, even when times are hard, and that most of the time I can choose love over fear. In rereading my journal for this story, I was struck by a moment of wisdom, jotted down by the glow of the flashlight in my bungalow in Tikal:

We are all meant to be forgiven.