Regresar (to return)

a wall in Antigua

On Saturday (really early), I left Guatemala. I thought I would be excited to be leaving. Not that I wanted to leave, but it’s always nice to go back home (to your own bed, shower, & food). However, I just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t get rid of the images of all the kids–their hugs and letters–or all my new friends, out of my head. I had a bag filled with letters from every kid I taught, saying thanks. I purposefully put these letters in my checked luggage. I knew I couldn’t handle them. I still haven’t looked at them. But they will soon find themselves on my fridge and in my office.

Basically, those kids find a way in your heart and you find yourself thinking about how you can get back at the soonest possible chance (next summer).

People ask “how was your trip?” and I think the best way to put it simply is to say that this was an experience that brought out the best in me. I woke up early everyday energetic and happy to be there. I worked hard, with an almost desperate determination, at my Spanish (and to be honest, salsa). The sites and smells were rarely taken for granted and I met a lot of great people from all over the world. I explored a nice sample of the country (enough to realize how much more needs to be seen).

When I flew into Guatemala, from Houston, my plane was filled with Spanish-speakers. I was excited because I knew that this trip would open me up to another part of the world that happens to be in my geographic backyard. I wanted to make sure I learned to speak with these new neighbors, and I’ve accomplished this.

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