¿Viajas solita solita?” the guys thought I was brave, “¿¿Solita solita solita?? –I had missed the bus and wound up thumbing it a portion, and taking a lot more detours through Guatemala to get to the border. On one van I was crammed with a bunch of kids leaning on me…three guys hanging out the car door while we drove across the verdant tropical landscape, we were swerving and I was within one inch of my life. Guatemalan drivers are gutsy, trying to beat each other on blind turns.

Ah but trip was gorgeous. The soul of Central America. Forests and millions of shades of green. A ghostly fog that veiled the landscape lighly over the hilltops. Snap snap. Tropical forest, dried fields of harvested corn, and tall trees against fertile mountains. Snap. Cowboy hats and two ladinos talking man to man atop a hay stack. The emerald shadows of palm fronds and stately cattle roaming. Snap.

Cobán, Honduras. It’s the most charming little town when you finally enter. I feel so alive, the extensive ruins and underground tunnels were magnificent and I can close my eyes and imagine the Mayan civilization walking here, the noblemen playing pelota, in the flourishing tropical fauna. We ambled through the forest and got bit by a hundred mosquitos, and saw macaws and heard monkeys calling from far away. We crawled on the ancient stone edifices and touched the remnants of a great civilization. The sweat of the humidity in our breath. Better are the Honduran people…they are so sweet, and genuinely more honest and harder working than their neighbors to the north… maybe a little less so than El Salvadoreans. Oh yes, I’ll be back.

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