Don't Stop Belizin' [CAT2016: Belize]

I'm going to sound pretty spoiled when I say this, but I'm going to say it anyways. Traveling for a couple of weeks at a time is tough. Not only we were living out of suitcases (with clothes that kind of smell after awhile), but we were only staying in each city for one or two nights at a time, so we weren't really getting settled anywhere. It was also humid and rainy in Central America, so all of our stuff started to feel a little bit damp after a few days. I know, life is so difficult.

After almost two full weeks of insane travel, we finished up our trip with four days in Belize. We actually stayed there for three nights, which is longer than we'd stayed anywhere. And we decided to splurge a little. You know, treat yourself. 

We stayed on the island of San Pedro, so you think it'd be easy to go from the island of Honduras to the island of Belize. You'd be wrong. We ended up taking the shortest route, which was also the most expensive, and flew there. Even that required us to leave Utila the day before we were flying to San Pedro, Belize and spend the night in San Pedro Sula, Honduras. 

Is this not a giant safety concern?

Love you long time, Honduras.

Once we arrived in Belize, we still had to take a taxi to the ferry terminal and then take an hour and a half ferry ride to the island. I don't think that a single one of us regretted it when we set foot on the island, though.

San Pedro is famed for many things including the Blue Hole (which we did not see) and Hol Chan Marine Reserve, better known as Shark Ray Alley, which we did see.

We hung out at our hotel for an hour, tops, before we were picked up at our hotel dock and taken out to Hol Chan Marine Reserve. Our guide took us out snorkeling where we saw our first shark, tons of fish, and sea turtles! I have arms weaker than infant arms and my swimming skills are atrocious, so I opted to swim with a life jacket to allow for maximum snorkeling enjoyment. And let me tell you, there was maximum snorkeling enjoyment.

We got back on the boat and drove over to the area officially known as Shark Ray Alley. Apparently fishermen used to clean their days' catches in that area, the sharks and rays began to associate the sounds of the boat motors with food and began swarming pretty regularly, and as soon as the tour companies caught wind of it, the rest is history.

Real life. Not me standing in front of a poster.

So, yeah. It was basically awesome. There were so many sharks and so many rays and not a single one of them tried to eat me. Shark Ray Alley fulfilled all of my wildest shark dreams. And we were there during Shark Week, which is basically the best timing ever.

The following day, Sarah and I signed ourselves up for an all day catamaran tour and had zero regrets. Except for the fact that we should have applied sunscreen a bit more regularly.

We started out the day by going reef fishing where we both successfully caught two fish. And it's a good thing we did because that fish was our lunch and, besides the other two people who were fishing with us and both also caught two fish each, no one else caught anything that day. I'm not a great fisher because it's a lot of patiently waiting and then about ten seconds of excitement. And I'm pretty bad at being patient. But this was awesome because the water was so clear that I could spend all of the time waiting looking at all of the sting rays, sharks, and fish in the water. The ocean is a crazy place, you guys.

The tour group that we were traveling with was rotating people who were fishing and people who were snorkeling, so when we returned to the catamaran we grabbed our snorkels and headed in. And then we saw this guy.

There are few things more terrifying than swimming around and then looking up to see this guy headed your way. I quickly realized that Steve Irwin's death did very little to inform people of how you actually get stung by a sting ray because no one seemed to know if it shot the stinger at you or if it could flip it's tail at you. Needless to say, we kept our distance and no one was stung.

Oh, hay. 

We snorkeled for hours. Literally. Which is probably why we were burnt to crisps and my lips felt like I had licked the inside of a Lays potato chip bag. But it was incredible. At one point we got back onto the catamaran to enjoy the fruits of our labors via fish tacos and they were pretty bangin', if I do say so myself.

Our boat captain was sitting at the back of the boat, dropping pieces of fish into the ocean, which, naturally, was attracting all sorts of marine life. Not three minutes later, I had the best moment of my life, to date.

Yes, I touched a sea turtle. I touched it. It swam over to me and then we were swimming in the same water together. Granted, I was holding food for it, so it's not like it swam to me because I'm really pretty, but I don't even care. I swam with a sea turtle.

And then I swam with it some more.

And then I swam with it some more. Seriously, I think I was squealing like a little girl the entire time. Thank god it couldn't hear me. Or maybe it could. Regardless, it was awesome.

On our last day we went to a restaurant called Palapas, which has innertubes available for floating and drinking. Unfortunately, it was real freakin' wavy while we were sitting there. Fortunately, neither Sarah nor I cared and we ended up sitting in those tubes for a couple of hours. While sitting in those innertubes, we convinced ourselves that we could squeeze in a little stand up paddle boarding before our sunset booze cruise that night.

Remember when I said I had weaker arms than a baby? Do you realize how difficult that makes it to go paddle boarding? Especially when you're paddle boarding right where all of the boats are pulling into the dock. At one time, I actually started to float away and Sarah had to come rescue me. Needless to say, I spent most of the hour paddling along the dock and watching Sarah actually paddle board.

The only five seconds that I was actually able to stand.

For our last Central American/ Belizean hurrah, we took a sunset booze cruise and it was incredible. We toured with Island Dream Tours and they had excellent customer service. I mean, can you imagine the type of patience it takes to deal with a boat full our intoxicated tourists every night? Seriously, the thought of it makes me want to cry a little.

That bun though.

We boarded the boat and, over the course of the night, we were served ceviche, fresh fruit, and chips and dip. As well as an open bar. We basically sailed the open seas until sunset at which point we anchored for a bit so that they could turn on the party lights that lined the inside and outside of the boat and blast the music. What could be better than a floating dance party? Honestly, few things come close.

A beautiful sunset to end a beautiful trip.

The next morning we boarded the ferry back to the mainland and officially bring our trip to a close. We must have looked something awful though because the guy at the airline desk upgraded us both to First Class for freeeee. Holla at ya girls.

Was San Pedro the perfect way to end our 3 weeks of Central American travels? You better Belize it.

If You Come to Utila, You Will Never, Ever Leave [CAT2016: Honduras]

The Bay Islands and I just aren't meant to be friends. Sarah and I planned this really great trip to Roatan during my second year and, unfortunately, all of our plans were thwarted by both rain and stomach illnesses. We were ready to give the Bay Islands another try this time by heading to Utila. Snorkeling, boat rides, beachside bars-- what could possibly go wrong? More stomach illnesses. That's what could go wrong.

Unfortunately, we weren't able to "live it up" in Utila like we were supposed. But we really tried our best despite our diet of Cheerios and sips of water.

Our first day was great. We arrived on the early ferry and got settled in to our apartment before heading down to the public beach. After hanging out there for awhile, we headed over to Rehab, which is a bar overlooking the ocean. I was able to lay in my hammock, chow down on some bangin' chicken wings and sip my strawberry daiquiri. Really? Could anything be wrong with that? (The answer is no, in case you are wondering.) We enjoyed Rehab so much that we even returned there for dinner that night.

The first night was when disaster struck and we spent the rest of our time in Utila functioning at about 50%.

Since walking was out of the question, we rented a golf cart and drove around the island. While driving around, we came across the private beach, which is located at the opposite end of the island as the public beach. We paid a few lempiras to have the beach (almost) entirely to ourselves and we spent the rest of the afternoon laying on the beach or in the water. Our first day in Utila was very low-key despite the party reputation that the island has.

Our first night wasn't any better as we had a wonderful Cheerio dinner. I slept on the wooden floor, sweat off at least five pounds, and honestly believed that I was going to die. By the time morning rolled around, I was covered in mosquito bites which, honestly, rarely ever happens to me. And they itched like crazy. I almost wished that God would just take me then because between the stomach issues, the heat, and the bug bites, I was miserable. Sarah wasn't any better, so  you can imagine how much of a joy we were.

While we really wanted to just lay around in close proximity to a bathroom, we also really wanted to take advantage of the beautiful island. So for the next two days we took our golf cart past the public beach and boarded a little boat to Neptune's Coral Beach Village. It had a restaurant, a bathroom, a dock, and hammocks in the shade. Basically, paradise. Even for a couple of people plagued with a stomach virus.

After three days in Utila, we were finally starting to feel better and it was time to leave the island. I'm going to give the Bay Islands one more chance, because, as they say, "third time's the charm". I've really got my fingers crossed.

Welcome Home, Gringas. [CAT2016: Honduras]

Our entire trip was planned around one event-- CEE high school graduation. Come hell or high water, or a 12 hour bus trip turned into a 15 hour bus trip, we were going to be at graduation. 

Almost two years to the day of our dramatic, tear-filled goodbyes to the town and the people that we had grown to love, we were back in Siguatepeque.

Although I have been to Sigua since leaving, I hadn't been back with someone who had lived the experience with me. I'd been back to Sigua, but I hadn't been back to my Sigua. Having Sarah there made it feel like we were reclaiming the Sigua that we once knew and loved-- even if only for a moment.

Of course, our first stop was for baleadas at Norberta's. I'm not even going to pretend it wasn't.

We weren't able to fit everything in to our short time in Sigua (lookin' at you, Foster fam), but we made sure to make a trip up to the Children's Home. After laughing with them every day for two years, it's hard to hug them only once a year. Honestly, I think my kids in Honduras taught me way more than I ever taught them. 

After hanging out with some of our little Hondurans, we spent the evening hanging out with some of our big Hondurans. And yes, we always look this glamorous, thank you for asking. Graduation was great because we were able to support the students in a very important moment of their lives, but we were also able to spend dinner catching up with some of the other teachers who made our years in Honduras bearable.

I've said it once (in this post, in fact) and I'll say it again. There's something to be said for seeing the same people every day for two years and then suddenly, not seeing them for an entire year. There's something more to be said for being able to jump right back in to those friendships-- especially when you're speaking two different languages.

There are a couple of things that I could always count on in Honduras. Getting KOBS ice cream after baleadas, an upset stomach after said baleadas, hearing the commerical for the grocery store as it was blasted from the speakers of a passing truck, getting carsick on the way home from Comayagua. Among these "certains" was the certainty that it would always be raining when I went to Lago de Yojoa.

Seriously. There could be a 0% chance of rain and not a cloud in the sky upon arriving to the lake and, never fails, it would start raining at some point while I was there. And I went to the lake fairly frequently.

This trip didn't disappoint either as it started pouring while we were there. The good news is that, since we were there during rainy season, it was generally pretty sunny during the day, but slammed by rainstorms in the late afternoon/ evening. We were able to snag a great hike at Panacam with beautiful views of the lake AND some acrobatics at Pulhapanzak before the evening rain.

There's never enough time spent in Sigua. My heart will always be longing to return the second that I leave the city limits. But for a brief moment in time, I was able to recapture some of the goodness that made up two crazy, yet wonderful years in Honduras.

Guatever, Antigua. [CAT2016: Guatemala]

After our two days of frolicking around Lake Atitlán, we boarded a shuttle that took us to stop two-- Antigua, Guatemala. Where, I'll be honest, Sarah and I spent almost the entire time looking for Derick and Jill Dillard. We were unsuccessful.

We spent our first day wandering the cobblestone streets (it was very Comayauga-esque) and mostly looking for something to eat. Which we found when we stumbled across a baleada restaurant conveniently located next to a bubble tea shop. I'd call that a solid win.

In our wandering, we also found one of Antigua's most famous landmarks, the yellow Santa Catalina Arch. It was originally built to connect a covent to a school and allowed nuns to cross from one building to another without having to walk into the street. Yeah, I Wikipedia-ed that. Because, honestly, all I knew about it was that it was a yellow arch in Antigua. 

While choosing the roads less traveled (or something like that) had been awesome for the first few days in Guatemala, we were more than ready to participate in an organized tour offered by our hotel. Said organized tour consisted of climbing an active volcano and then rejuvenating at the spa. 

The volcano that we set out to conquer was Volcán Pacaya, located about an hour-ish outside of Antigua. There was a pretty major eruption in 2010 which shut down the international airport and caused some of the residents of nearby cities to evacuate, but it's been, more or less, calm since then.
It does erupt fairly constantly, but not like huge lava flows. More like spewing some rocks into the air a little bit.

Volcán Acatenango, Volcán de Fuego, and Volcán de Agua from Pacaya 

I'm not about to lie and say that the hike was easy because I was definitely heavy mouth breathing about two minutes in. It wasn't a long hike, but there were some steep parts. Although it wasn't easy, it wasn't the hardest hike I have ever done either. (I'm looking at you, Pico do Papagaio.) As it usually is with hiking, the view from the top made it worth it.

You know what else made it worth it? This. Roasting marshmallows in some of the hot lava vents. The lava underneath made the rocks so hot that we were all able to brown our marshmallows to perfection. Some people in another tour group were roasting hot dogs, which would have been a really tasty idea.

After such a grueling hike (and bellies full of marshmallows), we travel to Santa Teresita Hotel and Thermal Spa. We didn't splurge on the most expensive spa package, but we did receive complimentary fruit smoothies, time in the thermal pools, a 10 minute chair massage, and access to the swimming pools. And big fluffy robes, which may have been my favorite part.

After five shorts days divided between two very different cities, it was time to say "Adios" to Guatemala and "Hola" to one of my favorite countries in the world-- Honduras.

Guat's Up, Lake Atitlan? [CAT2016: Guatemala]

IT'S FINALLY HERE!

After months of dreaming and planning and hotel searching and shuttle booking, the day to embark on our Central American Tour 2016 (affectionately known as CAT2016) finally arrived.

Let me explain. Sarah wanted to go to the CEE graduation and I'm always down for a trip to Honduras, so we had basically been dreaming of the trip ever since we left Honduras two years ago. About a year ago we decided it was actually happening and in April we really started planning. So we're spending three weeks traveling around Central America and its going to be awesome.

Our main goals included eating as many baleadas as possible, speaking copious amounts of Spanish, and trying not to cry when we leave Sigua. Other than that, we have very few plans, goals, or expectations. Wherever the wind takes us is good for us.

We've begun our trip in Guatemala. One-- because neither of us have been to Guatemala before and both of us have some pretty lofty travel goals. Two-- it was the cheapest airport to fly into.

We spent the night in Guatemala City at Quetzaroo Hostel. The beds were comfy, the bathrooms were clean, the breakfast was delicious, and the staff was incredibly helpful. We weren't there for very long, but it was an enjoyable experience.

EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT MY LUGGAGE STAYED IN COLOMBIA WHILE I CONTINUED ON TO GUATEMALA AND STAYED THERE FOR THREE DAYS! But that wasn't anyone's fault and it all ended up okay, but it was a bit of a rocky start there for awhile.

Anyways.

After a night in Guatemala City and a brisk bike ride to get the blood flowing, we boarded a shuttle that took us to Panajachel, or Pana to the locals and the wannabe locals, which is located at Lake Atitlan. It was pretty gray and rainy when we arrived (oh hey, rainy season), so we didn't get to truly appreciate how beautiful Lake Atitlan really is.

Not the view we had on the first night.

The next morning we woke up and wandered down to the lake in hopes of seeing, what is claimed to be, the most beautiful lake in the world. We were not disappointed. When we arrived at the lake, we were able to see all three of the surrounding volcanos.

We ended up taking a boat tour around the lake to visit some of the other neighborhoods. We even splurged for the private boat tour because we're fancy like that. Honestly, I wasn't that impressed with the whole thing. The riding around on the boat was awesome. But we knew nothing about any of the neighborhoods and didn't know how to get around, so we kind of just aimlessly wandered around all day. Was it fine for a day? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Nah.

Dinner overlooking the lake and volcanoes at sunset wrapped up our short time in Pana before heading on to Antigua.

Minus the missing luggage and the lack of water at our hotel one morning, CAT2016 was off to a great start.

Heading Home: Honduras 2016

Although it never used to be, but January is quickly becoming my favorite month of the year. I spend time with my family and friends in my beloved hometown in the States, I spend entirely too much time on airplanes traveling to destinations that most people don't know exist/ confuse with a more popular country (no, Taiwan and Thailand aren't the same country and Honduras isn't in Africa), I eat weird foods, I set foot in my tierra amada where I get to hug my babies every day and have coffee with friends, and then just as life out of suitcase starts to be too much, I return back to Brazil as summer is coming to a close and spend my days at the beach.

It's a hard life, but someone has to do it. And I volunteer as tribute.

As I did last January, I flew to Honduras this year to spend ten precious days with some of my favorite people. I spent four days in Siguatepeque hanging out with my kiddos and visiting my old stomping grounds and then spent the next six days on the missions trip with Pilgrim.

The homecoming was phenomenal. There's really nothing like driving into your old hometown; seeing the restaurants where you used to eat every week, passing the same vendors selling the same goods at the same spot on the side of the road, smelling the scent of burning trash which is somehow simultaneously gross and comforting, walking into the four walls that you called home and opening your arms to the students who taught you how to be a teacher and the friends who walked beside you as your navigated life in a place so far outside of your comfort zone. 

We laughed. We laughed so much. We worked on Language homework (which is more fun when Miss Caitlin isn't your teacher anymore). We completed Reading Logs (which are still a drag). We played soccer. We went out for coffee/ lemonade. We dined together for breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. We spoke English and we spoke Spanish. For four short days, we were doing life together again.

And then on Sunday, some of my favorite people from Pilgrim came down and I got to spend a week showing them my beautiful city. Our days were spent in the mountains singing "Un simple muchacito que se llamaba David" ("Only A Boy Named David"), painting nails, and having VBS with the local children. In the afternoons, we really lived the Honduran experience-- which included riding in the back of pick-up trucks, eating at Norberta's, driving up a mountain to buy fireworks and then shooting them off in the middle of the street, and eating ice cream at the Mennonite store. 

I think I was Honduran in a past life. Truly. There's no other way to explain the love I have for these people and this country; how at home I feel when stepping off the plane and how devastating it is to leave.

It's my dream in life that everyone can experience Honduras, and, hopefully, love it as much as I do. For those people who can't physically go to Honduras, for whatever reason, I used my top notch iMovie skills to put together a video montage of my favorite week of the year. This is Siguatepeque. This is our Honduras.

Let The Waves Hit Your Feet...

...and the sand be your seat.

I don't know what it is, but you can ask anyone and they will tell you that it's true. I LOVE the beach. Not love as in I enjoy spending time there once in awhile, but love as in I actually can't live without it. CEE is the only school I applied to teach at that isn't within thirty minutes of a beach-- figures, right?

I need the beach. I need to be there. I need to feel the sand between my toes and hear the waves crashing on the shore line. I need to walk through the water (however frigid it may be) and have my biggest worry be whether or not I'm going to drop my sandals in the water. Regardless of weather and duration of time spent at the beach, I leave the beach a better, happier, more rejuvenated person than when I arrived. I need it, I crave it. I physically, mentally, and emotionally cannot live without it.

That being said, it comes as no surprise that I started counting down the days until we left as soon as Sarah and I started to walk the walk and not just talk the talk when it came to planning a trip to Roatan.

We'd been talking about it for almost as long as we've been together in this country. We just never had enough time. Any time that we had a long enough break, we were required to leave the country (tragic, I know) and the time that we had previously planned to go got botched when Sarah was told she had to go to the Grade 11 graduation. But this year we were determined to make it happen.

We both spent a short amount of time in North America before returning to Honduras for New Years Eve and then our long anticipated trip. It was a whirlwind week of airport travel, a late night ringing in the new year, and early mornings to catch ferries and make the drive to La Ceiba. Which resulted in a decline of proper/ adequate sleep while also showing an incline in an incredibly erratic pattern of sleeping in cars/ buses/ other modes of transportation and an overcompensation of lack of sleep at odd times of the day. Needless to say, we were so ready to be in Roatan.

The original plan was to wake up early the morning of the 1st, drive to La Ceiba, catch the 4:30pm ferry, spend the 2-3 in Roatan, and then take the ferry home on the 4th. Did that happen? Of course not. Were we surprised? No. We ended up staying a night in La Ceiba due to the ferry not running on the 1st since it was a holiday. But ironically enough, we stayed in the EXACT SAME ROOM that we stayed in almost exactly a year ago when we went to La Ceiba. I'm sensing an annual anniversary trip in the works here.

We finally make it to Roatan and its fantastic. Everything I could have ever hoped for in a vacation on a tropical island with some of my best friends. It happened to rain the ENTIRE day we were there, so we didn't get to actually do many beach-y things, but it was so. nice. to be forced to relax. We napped, we hung out, we read books, we watched TV, we laid in the hammock. We didn't have a choice. And it was wonderful.

The rain let up for a couple hours in the afternoon, so Cristian and I took a lancha to West Bay. Where we snorkeled. At sunset. With fish. But not sharks. That I know of.  The water was so blue, I couldn't get over it. Nor could I get past my fear that I was going to snorkel over some coral, slash my leg open, and die right in the Caribbean. I didn't, obviously.

Sadly we had to take the 7am ferry back to the mainland the next day, so we didn't really get to experience too much of Roatan. Which, tragically, means that we'll just have to go back sometime. Where snorkeling, the underwater museum, a dolphin tour/ boat ride to Cayos Cochinos, and a glass bottom boat tour are all in order.

It might not have been the trip to Roatan that we expected. (And really, you'd think we would stop expecting anything on any of our vacations because something seems to go awry every. single. time.) But it ended up being the exact trip to Roatan that we needed.

Home.

A word that has become more difficult for me to describe in recent years. Is my home in Chardon where I was born and raised? Is home in Ashland where I set out on my own for the first time? Is home in Rio de Janeiro where I officially realized my calling in life? Is home here in Siguatepeque where my life has been changed within the walls of my Grade One and Two classroom?

I honestly don't know.

To me, each one of these places is home. Each one of these places holds a very real piece of my heart. Without each one of these places, I wouldn't be the person who I am today. Longevity has nothing to do with it-- I spent 18 years in Chardon and only 3 months in Brazil.

Every day my heart longs to be home. To be in Chardon, to be in Ashland, to be in Rio, to be in Sigua. Every day I feel like a piece of me is missing. Like I'm not completely whole. The unfortunate truth is that since my heart has made it's home in so many places, it never feels whole.

Going home is always a tricky blend of happiness and heartache. Joy to be seeing the people that have always meant the world to me (and joy to be eating Taco Bell again, if I'm being completely honest), but sadness to be leaving the people who have become regulars in my daily life.

While I don't particularly love always feeling like a piece of my heart is missing, I cannot help but know that this means I have been more abundantly blessed than I could have ever believed possible. I've loved people in many places, I have so many people and places that are hard to say good-bye to. And for that, I am grateful.

I'm going home tomorrow. While doing so, I'm leaving another home behind, but I'm coming home tomorrow.