' The world is a book & those who do not travel read only one page. '
On my bookshelf is a slightly dog eared book of poetry by Pablo Neruda. It is also a scrapbook of my own little written pieces of prose scribbled inbetween the lines of poetry, flowing over the blank pages, squeezed into the margins. These are my records of different seasons in my life, different journeys and places I have been.
I reread the 3 pieces written in the Spring of 2004 when I went over to Guatemala with a group from the Ranch and thought I would share them with you. Our aim was to visit a few villages and encourage the people there and then hike into the jungle and visit a really remote village to show them the 'Jesus' film.
Guatemala was such a different place to visit for me. I was used to Europe, Africa, the Middle East, North America and India. Central America had never been on my radar. It was a very different continent of brighter colours and richer vegetation than I had seen anywhere except possibly India. A completely different light with humid weather, earthy colours and new experiences.
I don't have any current photos of this trip but I have copied old photos, please forgive the way they are slightly fuzzy.
(In the photo above I am semi kneeling with a child on my knee.)
This first little piece was an overview of what is was like in the first couple of days as we travelled up into the mountains and had our first look at the country.
You might end up sitting on a brightly coloured bus named ESPERANZA with flashing lights and a loud horn
Squeezed next to a lady wearing a bright headscarf
wondering how to communicate with smiles and gestures
while the world sails past the window.
You might stumble into a courtyard of fountains & parrots and become
intoxicated by the perfume of Arum lilies
Retreating into the cool shady dining room
Where friends sit sipping freshly squeezed lemonade
& flatter you with their soft brown eyes and smiles.
Later ... Where the church smokes with evil intent
And you hurriedly leave on the arm of your companion
You will find yourself longing for the mountains
who raise sun kissed eyes ever heavenwards
To embrace glorious majesty.
Prose written on a blank page of my book of Pablo Neruda poetry.
Guatemala - Spring break 2004
This next piece was written about the long hours & days trekking through tropical forest. Towards the end of one section we were approaching a village and little girl came out and accompanied us. There we were in our professional trekking gear and she was in a pair of plastic sandals. She walked on light feet, happily carrying a heavy bottle of water and nibbling berries and a pocketful of nuts. Although we never shared a word she seemed to fit in perfectly walking alongside us for a couple of hours. I was touched by her sweet gentle presence and the way she shared her peanuts with me.
I was focussing on not falling
carefully placing one foot infront of the other
whilst pondering her little feet in rubber jellies
tip toeing through mired clay
i was looking at her huge water container
slung beside her
and remembering her careful selection of blackberries
when he fell and knocked into my side, arms flung out to steady himself
Then she reached behind and offered me her outstretched hand full of peanuts
my little Indian girl and the boy who loved eggs!
Guatemala - Spring break 2004
( (If I recall 'the boy who loved eggs' was Kyle pictured above & below in blue.)
And finally, more of the mud and sweat but no tears. A description of what my body was enduring, the long distances, the constant humidity and as a result constant sweat and sometimes knee deep red mud. A description of the feeling that we had lost touch completely with civilisation, having no idea what was going on in the wider world. No phone signals. No televisions or newspapers. Nothing to connect us to the daily routine or time zone of the rest of the world.
We were a happy crew and our journey was a good one.
For a few days, for a few hours, for a few minutes
My life was reduced to a mud bath
And the sound of a symphony of insects humming in the giant tangle of undergrowth
My T shirt stuck to my body and a river of sweat ran down my forehead
and onto my ear where it fell in beads from my earring
I was challenged, exhausted & happy
An inner river of calm flooding through me
as I enjoyed the total desolation and isolation
not knowing the time or what day it was
not anywhere close to civilisation
with my happy band of singing explorers
wading through a jungle of tobacco flowers.
wishing we might get lost for a season & live this dream a little bit longer
Guatemala - Spring break 2004
We finished with a celebratory meal at a restaurant near a lake. I remember dancing and laughter and decided that the best parties are often the unexpected unplanned ones.