Okay, this is REST of Guatemala

6/5

We finally came to a clearing and could see two volcanoes in our midst. What a view. Dark ashy hills in the middle of luscious green forests, and hot, bubbling, fire-orange lava oozing down the sides. Not your typical sight. After everyone did a quick photo shoot of the breathtaking surroundings, our guide told us we had to run down this steep hill of ash in order to get to the actual volcano. We thought he was kidding because it was seriously steep, and all of sudden he disappeared down the side of the hill, running full speed. George and his dad followed suit. I was hesitant but once I started slipping and sliding down this hill of ash, I realized how much fun it was to go really fast. I just let it happen. My shoes were completely filled with ash, but I was laughing hysterically the entire way down. It was so much fun. I asked if we could do it again once we reached the bottom but the answer was no. Party poopers.

We were finally on the volcano. Standing on hardened lava, or pahoehoe as the Hawaiians call it. Now let me tell you, pahoehoe is quite jagged and unstable. It would crumble away under your feet, so our guide told us to be careful where we stepped. Well probably within seconds of his warning I stepped on a piece of pahoehoe that launched backwards into my shin. I bled profusely. Well, not really, but I did bleed and got blood on my shoes AND now I have a nice little scar to remind me of my carelessness on a Guatemalan volcano. Not bad.

We continued hiking up and up the pahoehoe until we reached the area where lava was seeping out. It was so bright and so hot. I felt like my face was melting. Some people got a little freaked out when we got close to the lava. They were all, “Okay, cool let’s go now. Okay. OKAY! Move!” I was loving it, though. I roasted a mallow (marshmallow) on the lava. It was one of those fruity-tasting mallows. Pretty good. I think I had like blueberry or something. I don’t know. It tasted like a sweet tart.

Then we climbed over to this rushing river of lava. Just a rushing rive of lava…no big deal. It was wild. What if someone fell in? Or what if I just put my hand in really quick? I kept asking questions like those and people got annoyed.

Then we had this awesome bag lunch provided by the tour company. It was soo good. Usually the SAS provided bag lunches suck, but this was good. Great sandwich, tasty vegetable chips, AND a cookie. Jackpot. Except there was this really gross like raisin juice. Do not recommend trying the raisin juice.

Once we hiked back down off of the volcano and back to our bus, Jill and I hoped to go to Antigua because it was really close to Pacaya. Unfortunately, not everyone on our bus wanted to go so we had to go all the way back to the ship and hope to find another ride there. It was unfortunate because we could have cut out a lot of driving time and had a longer night in Antigua, but we dealt. Jill graciously shared an earphone with me and we napped the whole way back to the ship.

We got back to the ship around 5, and we asked our tour guide Chicki if he knew of any good ways to get to Antigua. He told us that there was a van taking all of the other tour guides to their homes that night that could stop in Antigua, and he could see if we could tag along. He also offered to take us to his friend’s beach house. We declined in hopes to reach Antigua someway somehow, instead.

So Chicki talked to the van driver, who agreed to take us along. He said it would be a half hour, so Jill and I rushed onto the ship to pack a bag and shower our ash-caked bodies off. We then came running off the ship in a hurry, only to find that the other tour guides wouldn’t be done until 7 or 7:30. We looked foolish just sitting around on the port and everyone seemed to be confused, so after securing the ride for $15 each we went back on the ship and ate dinner.

At around 7 we came back out and hopped in the van, waiting for just one more tour guide. The sky was darkening with storm clouds and we could see lightening in the distance. Soon it began to rain lightly, then to pour. The final tour guide arrived and hopped in the van. And off we went. Jill, me, two Guatemalan tour guides, and our driver driving in a torrential rainstorm on the not-so safe streets of Guatemala.

Jill and I watched as the sky would light up and crackle with lightening and we were thankful that our driver didn’t speed. We both dozed off from time to time and we would awaken with a start, wondering, “Where are we now? How long until Antigua? Is this a good idea? Are we on the drive to our deaths?” Well we lived….obviously. And the driver and tour guides were very nice and helpful. They dropped us off in Antigua at this hostel called El Gato Negro, where some of our friends were staying. We thanked them and paid and hopped out.

We immediately saw some SASers at the hostel and we went in to ask for a room. It was booked. Damn. We wandered the streets a bit, stopping at every hostel and hotel. Every place was booked, so we met up with Riley and Braxton at this nice Guatemalan restaurant and ate chips and guac and chile con rellenos (I don’t remember what that is exactly, but I saw it on Jill’s blog). While we ate this fabulous musician sang and played the guitar. His fingers moved so deftly and quickly. He was talented, I said.

Once our bellies were full, Jill and I went in search for a place to spend the night. Riley tagged along. We finally came across this place called Posada Asjemenou Hotel, where Jill and I could stay for $35 total for the night. Awesome! We put our stuff down, changed, and went off to meet some friends at a hookah bar near by. Upon my return home I found out that Clare has been to the hookah bar and Frida’s this bar we went to while in Antigua. Small world.

The hookah bar was quite entertaining. Right as we came in, Daina was carrying a plate of strawberry shortcake a la mode above her head while dancing. The huge scoop of ice cream toppled off the plate, bounced off her head, slid down her arm, and plopped onto the floor. I died laughing. And then within seconds some other customers were exiting the bar and one guy slipped on the huge dollop of ice cream before anyone could stop him. I died for a second time. Jill and I teased Daina for the rest of the voyage, because of this little stunt.

After our respite in the hookah bar, we went to a bar called Frida’s, named for Frida Kahlo. Her artwork hung from every wall and surprisingly I ran into my art teacher, Faye while in this bar. She was having some drinks with some fellow SAS professors. Good times.

Frida’s slowly filled with SASers, as we were now accustomed to when going out in port. Jill and I went to the upstairs portion of the bar and danced with some local dancers who took us on the dance floor and started spinning, twirling, and dipping us. I struggled through the dance moves, but enjoyed myself nonetheless. Jill and I danced and laughed and enjoyed ourselves til about 2am or so and then headed back to our hotel room.

We slept in until about 10 the next morning and got some much needed rest. When we both woke up Jill hopped in bed with me and spooned and giggled and belted out the songs playing on her iPhone. We got dressed and ready to check out only to find that breakfast was included. Best news ever. I got banana pancakes (and sang Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes for the entire day to follow) and Jill got scrambled eggs and black beans. We dined in the sunny courtyard of this hotel, under a yellow umbrella with flowers and plants and fountains engulfing us. It was perfect. This was our last breakfast in port. Our last day in port. We were one week away from being home…for good. It was a bittersweet feeling. We pondered whether life would ever be so perfect again, if we would be this incredibly happy again, how our lives would change.

Then we set off to explore Antigua in the light of day, without the pouring rain. We walked along the cobblestone streets, between the warmly painted buildings, under the town archways. We came across this bright canary yellow church, with music emanating from inside. Jill and I went in, to find vaulted ceilings, rows and rows of pews, painting and statues of Christ, and three singers sitting at the altar. We sat in a pew to take in this lovely sight. There were two male singers and one female and their harmonies were beautiful. Music always has a way of uniting people and reminding them of the beauty in this world.

Jill and I left the cathedral in a somber and spiritual mood. We had been overwhelmed with emotion. We were so thankful for our opportunities, so blessed, and yet so sad that it was all coming to an end.

We ventured on, got some fresh fruit smoothies, and found the market. We traipsed through the market, reminded of the many other markets we have seen. Reminded of all the bartering, the countless souvenirs, the sneaky vendors. All so different, yet so similar. Next we wanted to go to this peak overlooking the city, but we didn’t have enough time because we had to find a ride back to the ship. We were getting a little bit apprehensive about finding a ride that wasn’t too expensive and that would actually get back in time before the ship set sail. So we walked towards the city center, which was swarming with SASers. Within about 15 minutes we had been offered several rides by a few different groups of friends and we took the cheapest one that was about $7 a person, in a squished van full of people. Not the most comfortable thing, but we didn’t care. We found a cheap ride. Things always work out.

We arrived back in Puerto Quetzal and dropped our things off at the ship. Jill and I went out to use some free internet and spend our last Quetzales. The internet didn’t work, but I got some great, colorful headbands. Then it was back to the ship. We took the shuttle back. We rode on top of the van with Brendan and Mike and everyone else’s luggage. Safe? No. But it was our last little adventure for…a long time.

Our bags and bodies got searched by security for the last time, we walked up the gangway for the last time, and we pulled away from the land for the last time. It was weird. It was sad. It was exciting.

So that was my last country. My last port. Then I was on the ship for a week. Which of course FLEW by. Filled with tests, projects, games, friends, laughs, sunsets, movies, ship food, and on the final day many many tears. Who knew I would get so emotional. Every person I hugged goodbye brought on another wave of emotions. My eyes were puffy and red when I finally got off the ship and hugged my dad. Back in America. Back home. Back for good? No. I’ll be out there again soon.

Signing off.

Thanks for the world

6/5/09
12:34

So I have been home for four weeks now. I am well rested and well…restless. My summer job fell through and although I’ve applied to numerous locations, I have yet to be hired. Don’t they know that I am a world traveler and can handle anything they throw at me? Whether it be a tall skim latte with extra whip or cleaning the ellipticals at the gym? C’MON! I will do anything! I am desperate and broke.

So I am twenty years old and I have seen the world. Not many people can say that and I know that I am extremely fortunate. I would like to thank everyone who helped me to have the time of my life.

Thanks to Dad for being so supportive, for funding this adventure, for keeping up with all of the USD paperwork while I was away, and for keeping me posted on the goings on of 54th and Drew.

Thanks to my mom for being my rock when I needed her to be, for being my #1 blob supporter, and for making me smile from thousands of miles away.

Thanks to Katie for the little notes and pictures that I could hang on my wall to remind me of friends and family, for bringing tears to my eyes when she told me the latest Liv stories, and for encouraging my art.

Thanks to Nate for the e-mails. As he is not one to return an e-mail….well ever, I was very grateful for his many detailed and humorous e-mails.

Thanks to Marbo, Mally, Weiner, Mobecks, and Clareybear for being such avid readers of the blob, (such faithful readers that they actually quote the blob sometimes….embarrassing.) And thanks for listening to the privy details that were excluded from the blob. You guys are THE best friends.

Thanks to my AXO sisters in San Diego for staying in touch and keeping me posted on the USD saga. Especially Carson, Juls, and Jaclyn. I love you guys. A LOT. LITB

Thanks to Marlys for always reading my stories and for her sweet e-mails, reminding me of the good times in MN. Always in my prayers Mar.

Thanks to Sam. Pretty much my only guy friend who read, or even knew I was writing journals while I was abroad. You’re a good friend Sam.

Thanks to the entire Anderson, Peterson, and Richardson clan who read about my travels and who wrote to me. I felt extremely loved around the world and blessed to have such a supportive family to come home to.

And finally thank you to my new best friends. Semester at Sea Spring ’09 would not have been the same without Jill, Caroline, Alicia, Nancy, Lexi, Greg, Lia, Steve, Hussain, Disha, Keith, Riley, Doug, Win, and Braxton….and basically the entire ship. Thanks for the sunsets, the meals, the laughs, the memories, and the lifelong friendships.

Since I’ve been home, I’ve eaten my fair share of DQ (this wouldn’t be a Hannah blob if didn’t mention food, right?) and I’ve reconnected with good friends and family, I’ve re-acclimated to life in the US. Perhaps too well.

I don’t want to forget what I’ve learned. I don’t want to just go back to my old life. I want to remember to live each day like you only have four days in that country so you have to see as much as possible. I want to remember to ask for help when I need it. I want to remember that people are good. I want to remember patience. I want to remember confidence. I want to remember ultimate bliss. I want to remember to give back, because I have so much to give back and I have so much more than others. I want to remember to stay connected with the world. Read newspapers. Remember that. I want to keep doing art. I want to forget itineraries and schedules. I want to stay in touch with all my friends. I want to keep traveling…forever.

I want to and so I will. But it’s harder than I thought. So please help me. Help me do it. And thanks.

Love love,
H