Two-Month Check-In From Costa Rica

Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Colombia and back to Costa Rica. Some I miss already; others I never wish to see again. Regardless, what a ride it’s been. Or more accurately, what a series of bus, plane and shuttle rides it’s been.

Farmland on the way to Cerro Chato hike in Arenal, Costa Rica.

Three months of travel alone is an incredible luxury which I wish upon anyone who is looking for a shake-up or a reminder of who they really are deep down. For when you are travelling alone — only with a backpack — you don’t have a job, material possessions, friends or fancy outfits to hide behind. Your happiness and experiences hinge solely on your character and persistence. And since you are flying solo, you don’t have anything to prove to anyone. You do what you do for yourself. Am I finally getting to the root of “selfishness?”

For many reasons, I went through the first few countries very quickly — I, in fact originally got to Costa Rica two months earlier than I had forecasted with my two-week per country “plan” — and I’m now feeling like I’ve seen what I want to see in Central America. While one can certainly take longer; I didn’t spend more time in cities and countries that didn’t jive well with me, and I wouldn’t have done it any differently. Some loved the countries I zipped through and others never left them.

Arenal Volcano, Costa Rica.

Now that the full-on adventure is mostly done (it’s done because Costa Rica is like Disney Land compared to Honduras), and maybe because I’ve been away for two months, I am actually starting to feel the pangs of homesickness come and go. Mind you, now that I’m at the beach, I feel way better for some reason. However, I have one month of utter freedom left and intend on utilizing it knowing full well that it may be my last.

Samara Beach, Costa Rica. One of my favs.

After a couple weeks of looking at flights from different airports, I overcame my fear of making a long-term commitment on an exit strategy and bought my ticket home. I’m thrilled. My plan now is to spend the next weeks in Costa Rica, perfecting the art of relaxation, finding balance and admiring beautiful scenery. I think this girl has had enough adventure this season. I will enjoy all that this Canadian-friendly, ridiculously expensive country has to offer.

So what have I learned since the last check-in? I have learned that yes, I am quite fun, and yes, I can read a map — but still prefer if someone more capable leads me — and I have the power to make any situation better and can avoid tricky ones.

The pouring rain during this hike turned out to be tonnes of silly, slippery run. The only unfortunate part was that the clouds hid the view at the top of this inactive volcano.

My favourite parts of my trip were the ones filled with adventure, and what I would call risk, because they made me feel alive and pushed me past my comfort zone. So, jumping off ledges in caves in Guatemala, hiking volcanoes in the pouring rain and playing Tarzan and jumping off platforms in Costa Rica were highlights. At 20 meters, I really didn’t want to jump off the ledge per say, but I knew I had to. Logically, I knew I would be safe…but still. Ugh. In the end, it was the rush I knew it would be and I’m glad I did

Monteverde, Costa Rica.

Lastly, after seeing extreme poverty a little closer up and speaking to travellers from all over the world, I am truly appreciative of being Canadian and having access to all the privileges that comes with that. I could have very easily been born in a country ravaged by war or in a country where living on the street is just accepted all a part of life. I am so proud that I come from a country with a myriad of programs that are focused on helping others in our own cities and in other countries. I am grateful for the life I have, where I am from and see that I have a responsibility to help others who are less fortunate because we are in fact all really the same, we just have different luck and circumstances.

Seeing A Little Past The Striking Beauty

Sunrise at Lake Atitlan

After a few nights on Lake Atitlan, which is surrounded by volcanos and villages only accessible by boat, I was ready to explore my next destination: Semuc Champey. I thoroughly enjoyed trying a new yoga class in a different, amazing spot every day, morning swims and falling asleep to the sounds of the jungle, but the scene was a little too metaphysical and clicky. Who would have known that today’s hippies are so trendy and use copious amounts of jargon?

View from Utopia.

I’m now deep, deep in the jungle. In heaven. Actually, the lodge us called Utopia. But before I move on to where I am now, I have to share a few observations about the poverty in Lake Atitlan.

Upon arrival in San Marcos, I met a foreigner who was involved with a soup kitchen of sorts. I was instantly intrigued and started investigating. I sought out the opportunity to work at the Konojel Nutrition Program, which isn’t usually open to tourists. The program provides lunch for about 60 children and elderly people each day.

A wonderful morning at the konojel Nutrition Program.

So one morning, after a 7am yoga class which didn’t happen due to a missing teacher, I walked into the town, or barrio, where the locals live. This was slightly intimidating because there is a subtle distinction between where the locals live and where the tourists live. I kindly asked the local women in the centre if I could possibly help them out. They graciously invited me in and got to work. I was disappointed that I couldn’t catch all the neat things they were talking about because they were speaking in their Mayan tongue, which involves a series of tongue clicks and sharp stops, but we were able to communicate using both of our second language: Spanish.

Picture taken by a little girl. She took an awesome pic!

As a tourist, I tend to be slightly standoffish with the local children because they follow me around with their sad little voices, saying, “hay chocolate, hay chocolate.” They have their schtick down pat and are ever so persistent. But when I went to help out in town, the dynamics changed. A few kids where helping the women huck the cocoa beans. I went to see what they were doing. They asked if they could take pictures with my camera and look at them. “Of course you can,” I said. They were soooo excited. It was a beautiful moment. The point of the story is that no 14-year-old child in Canada would be that excited about running around taking pictures of trees, light switches, etc.

Veggies for rice and the centre piece: beans.

That day, I assisted the women to prepare a vegetarian meal by chopping and chopping mounds of veggies, preparing rice, blending salsas and making habicus tea. At lunchtime, children sat at the table outside and waited to be served. Elderly women lined up in the kitchen with their tupperwares to be filled and brought back home to their families.

The only moment that almost broke me was when a tiny little girl grabbed the plate of food I was handing her. I knew it wasn’t because she was rude, but rather she was hungry.

Kid helping out, hacking cocoa seeds.

I was so shocked to learn the children’s ages. I was talking to a little boy who I thought was for sure eight-years-old. He told me he was 14. I looked deeper into his face and saw that yes, indeed, he had an older looking face…but was just very small.

Quick fact: 85 per cent of Guatemalans earn 50Q per day (less than $7 per day).

By being at the lake and closer to the locals, I noticed men and women, usually elderly, walking back to town from the mountains with unfathomable amounts of scrap wood on their backs. This is for cooking.

The women at the Konojel Nutrition Program have their act together and are doing amazing work. I just wonder what life is like for those who don’t have a program like that in their communities. The longer I am in Guatemala, the more I see need everywhere. Sometimes I feel like it’s hard to make a difference in Canada because we have so many well-established programs. I will start by helping where I can while I’m here.