May 15, 2011 Yesterday was my last FULL day in San Cristobal, today my bus will leave heading towards Tijuana at exactly 1 pm...Well 1 pm Mexican time, which could mean at 2 pm...Maybe even 3. Yesterday morning I had woken up with the worst migraine in the world, and as I stumbled out of bed and stumbled on over to try and look for pills unnoticed, I'm greeted cheerily by Yolanda and Pancho, as I hide my "morning face" I grumble that I have a headache, Yolanda say it's the heat, while Pancho tries to take pictures of me with his phone, but I'm certain it's because today is my last day here in San Cristobal. I'm certain that in some particularly odd way my body understands I'm going home and if I were crazy enough I would even say this is a sign, a sign from the earth, from my body, or from the tiny little nerves in my brain telling me I should stay, I shouldn't go home. But instead I fumble around with a box that I believe is some form ...
I'd been standing in the middle of my third class. Second to my last. With this slapped in the face kind of feeling. This paralyzing feeling. I had thought about San Cristobal, and how after these last two classes I wouldn't be greeted by familiar faces as I walked home, I wouldn't take off my shoes, let down my hair and flop onto my bed. I wouldn't see Poncho's goofy smile greeting me at the front desk, or Yoli’s mischievous smirk sipping cafe con leche in the kitchen. This sudden fear ran through me like a bolt of energy. A bolt of realization. I had left San Cristóbal. I had left home. And though it was only for three days I had felt this rush of change in me. This change I still am unable to recognize. The call had come early morning Wednesday, I had already cleaned the hostel, checked people in and out, eaten breakfast and I was now lounging in bed reading Isabelle Allende's Of Love and Shadows . “Nicooo, telephonooo” Yoli yelled o...
The ride over to Palenque was a cold and nauseating one. A five hour trip that felt more like fifteen. Half way into the trip I felt the need to violently vomit all the floor of the bus, or wherever convenient. I looked around for something to throw up in, or on if needed. As I came to the conclusion that my purse was the best and least embarrassing option, my stomach had settled. "Oh thank you God!" I'd announced a little too loudly. As the grueling bus ride came to an end and I'd gotten off I’d met an Argentinian couple, and split a taxi with them to El Mono Blanco del Panchan (something about a white monkey) a grungy little Hostel conveniently placed in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Literally. We had been dropped off in the middle of the rain forest. This was definitely not how Ontario Mills Mall had depicted it at Rainforest Café, there were no singing alligators or friendly little monkeys. In fact, the monkeys sounded more like hungry tigers. On...
Oh, I was in the romance section...
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