[FW]: The Land of Eternal Spring
I find it difficult to think of something to write about everyday. So much so, that I have decided to give each Wednesday’s post a common theme. How does “Fantasy Wednesday” sound? “FW” for short? Lame, I know. Let me work on the title, OK?
I have many fantasies — almost all having to do with travel. So if most of these Wednesday posts are related to my insatiable wanderlust, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
This past January I traveled to my motherland, Guatemala. My mom and I went all over, mostly visiting family, taking day trips with them, and spending a lot of time on buses going from one family member’s town to another.
These bus rides showed me that “The Land of Eternal Spring” truly is just that. Everything is green, in bloom, with the smells of sugar cane and coffee wafting throughout the old American schoolbus we would take for hours every other day (this may or may not have something to do with the fact that we spent almost no time in the crime-hub of Guatemala City).
Spending hours looking out through a window also incited another observation, the one that struck me most: volcanoes. They are everywhere. It was like we were enclosed by them. This phenomena was most noticeable in Antigua.
Ahh, Antigua — full of history. One of the most touristy areas in Guate that was once the Capitol of the country before it was destroyed by an earthquake. The allure of the old city remains. Within its border comprised of, yep, volcanoes, are church ruins, Spanish-inspired arches, a Central Park, and courtyards galore. Luckily I have pictures because I spent most of my time looking up.
My mom is in her late-fifties and not really one to want to see a volcano up-close, so while we took our strolls through the cobblestone roads and passed from one old colonial church to next, my eyes remained transfixed on the volcanoes.
The hazy January clouds, struck by streams morning sun, would hover over the three volcanoes surrounding Antigua. I’m not sure which one was which, but I couldn’t help but stare. Always staring, like a creep.
I now fantasize about these volcanoes, these majestic, mysterious forces of nature. Maybe it’s because I’d love to tell stories that start with, “That reminds me of the time I hiked up Acatenango . . .” Or maybe it’s because I think I’d really love the feeling of being enveloped by the haze. Either way, here’s looking at you, Guate. Until we meet again.