Healing

Dear friends,

Let me begin by telling you a story.

A couple of weeks ago Alex and I got a day off from the farm so we decided to finally go to Semuc Champey, a nearby tourist site of natural pools with vibrant turquoise water.

That morning we had a couple guests arrive looking to stay in a cabin for the night. They were also planning to go to Semuc Champey that day so we happily asked if they wanted to go together.

It was mid-afternoon when we left, and we all jumped into a tuk tuk to head over. A tuk tuk is a three-wheeled, covered motorbike and is the main way to get around here in Lanquin.

The roads are pretty bumpy in Lanquin, and I often joke that when riding in a tuk tuk it feels like you’re on an amusement park ride.

That day the road was particularly rough, as the road to Semuc had been under construction. Most days, the vehicles and their drivers navigate the challenging terrain extremely well, but today was not one of those days. As we made our way down a questionable “road”, we couldn’t quite make it over one of the bumps and the tuk tuk rolled over on its side, with all of us in it.

The moment that the tuk tuk hits the ground it lands on my leg pinning me to the gravel below.

Lying on the ground I am in disbelief that we actually rolled, then in shock, then before I knew it everyone’s out of the tuk tuk and lifting on the count of 3, 2, 1 to get it off me.

The tuk tuk also lands on Alex’s hip, but he is ok, up and moving around, the guests are also ok and everyone begins jumping into action.

Alex runs over to me, scoops me up and helps me to the side of the road.

In my field of vision is Sawyer, one of the guests who had joined us. Sawyer is deaf. They also happen to be a wilderness first responder and they immediately jump into taking care of me. They wrap Alex’s shirt around my foot, which I'll spare you the gore, is pretty roughed up, but thankfully no sprain, break or fracture.

I’m feeling pretty dizzy at this point, to which Sawyer hands me their apple juice box that they have because they are diabetic. I actually quite dislike apple juice, but at this very moment this is the best juice I have ever tasted.

The cars that are driving down the road behind us pull over and what feels like all of Guatemala is now helping me.

Some French tourists have a fully stocked first aid kit that Sawyer digs into. They bandage me up nicely and the juicebox begins to bring me back to the present moment. Alex is relieved.

The French tourists are also on their way to Semuc and have taken a pickup truck to get there. A pick up truck is another mode of transportation commonly used in Lanquin, like a taxi, but a very compact taxi. The truck beds are enclosed by metal bars that people lean against or hold onto whilst standing in the back, pressed up against as many other people that will reasonably (or not) fit inside.

The French tourists who gave us the first aid kit insist we take their ride back to the farm where we can sit in the VIP back seats that no rider usually gets to ride in, and they will wait here for the truck to return and then take them to Semuc.

Locals are eager to know how I'm doing, what our plans are and if we need anything.

After about 20 minutes I'm all bandaged up and able to somewhat hobble around. We have determined I will be ok. We thank the people that have helped us immensely, then we tell the guests to go on ahead without us and we decide we will take the VIP seats home.

When we get into the car the shock begins to wear off and tears flood my eyes. I’m obviously in a relative degree of pain, but I am mainly overwhelmed by how supported and cared for I feel by strangers and those close to me alike.

Maybe it’s the kind of person I am, or the kind of person I am becoming as a result of being on the road, but I couldn’t help but see all the positives of the situation, or rather how much worse this situation could have been.

When we arrive back at Tuqtuquilal I feel relieved to be home safely. Within a few days I am able to walk normally again and the wound is healing nicely. I take pride in the story I now carry with me and the title of “real traveller” I have acquired.

In my humble opinion there are three conditions that need to be met in order to be considered a real traveller. 1) You need to have experienced some sort of medical emergency 2) You need to get stupid sick 3) You need to have something stolen. All of which has now happened (combined between Alex and I at least). 1) Get into a Tuk Tuk incident 2) Get a bacterial infection from the water  3) Get sandals stolen camping in a park in Mexico.

The days and weeks following involved a lot of pivoting. It was our last week at Tuqtuquilal and my intentions were going to be training one of the local kanas in all things sourdough, as well as some of the recipes Alex and I had developed during our time working in the kitchen.

I am unable to be on my feet for long periods of time, so Alex takes over most of my duties while I focus on healing.  

As I am healing it serves as the perfect opportunity to reflect on our time here, the opportunity we have been given and the experience we have created. We have found a home in Lanquin and this learning experience has felt foundational for all the learning set to come our way.

In our final days I sit here in awe at my surroundings. The environment that was once dull and dying is now teeming with life. The land is covered in butterflies of all colors, patterns and sizes.

In the animal kingdom butterflies are an indicator of a healthy environment, and are naturally responsible for increasing the biodiversity of an ecosystem, according to an article written in world atlas.

The butterflies are emerging from their chrysalis in conjunction with the land remerging from its drought, and the harmony that is Tuqtuquilal reveals itself to me.

Our final morning I use the last sourdough discard I will for quite some time to make some sourdough crepes with fresh papaya and panela– sugar produced from the land.

We say our goodbyes to the people we’ve met and the friends that we’ve made, knowing that this won't be the last time we see them.

From Tuqtuqilal we drove North for 9 hours to Lake Petén where we stayed at Gucumatz lakeside inn for 4 nights to rest and recharge. The Inn was started by a wonderful woman named Moya– as a retirement project and it emulated a life well lived.

The inn had a rustic feel, the space decorated in handmade bits and bobs of animals and wonky faces carved from wood and metal, covered in a rainbow of colours. Alex and I were overwhelmed by all the possible places we could sit outside to write and listen to the birds. Although I couldn’t swim in the lake due to my foot, we enjoyed the silence here, finally giving our minds, souls and bodies the rest they deserved.

Moya checked in often, always asking how my foot was doing. On our final day she chopped a big chunk of fresh aloe off of a nearby plant, handing it’s oozing contents to me. “Place this directly on your wound, and you should be good in a couple of days,” she said.

Moya was the epitome of the type of hosts we strive to be, she was warm and welcoming and made us feel right at home. She went the extra mile just because she felt like it. We enjoyed our time here greatly, especially the king size bed. Three months living out of a tent doesn’t really compare. Our final night in Guatemala we drove to the ancient Mayan ruins Yaxha, where we spent the afternoon exploring the sites and camping at the best spot we’ve camped at yet. Did I mention that camping was free with admission?

The ruins were less than an hour drive from the border, so we enjoyed a slow morning of coffee and listening to the birds, bugs, and howler monkeys in the jungle.

Today our chapter in Guatemala comes to an end, and a new chapter awaits us.