To Uncertainty & Beyond!

I traveled solo in Guatemala for about four weeks and had lots of “firsts”. In this series of posts, I’ve taken a look at these experiences. I rode my first Chicken bus, attended my first language school, tasted my first piece of fried chicken from Pollo Campero, and traveled solo for the first time.

First time traveling solo

At first I was extremely nervous about traveling alone. When I boarded the plane in Chicago I definitely had some butterflies in my stomach. Would I hate it? would I be okay by myself?

After my first few days in Quetzalroo hostel, my positive experiences boosted my confidence significantly.

I’m an only child and I enjoy my “alone time”. Maybe that’s why I took to solo travel so naturally.  It was easy to find a quiet corner in the hostel and whip out my Kindle or Laptop for a while. The places I chose to hang out in (Antigua, Lake Atitlan, and Xela) were all great places to wander around alone. The churches, ruins, streets, and architecture of Antigua and Xela and the breezy, warm, island-like atmosphere of the lake were all beautiful.

My favorite church - La Merced in Antigua, Guatemala

Waiting for the boat to cross Lake Atitlan

Yes, it was my first time traveling solo, but after just a few days I knew so many people that I never felt alone. I ran into someone I knew continually as I made my way from town to town. You meet people in hostels, restaurants, coffee shops, buses, and tours and end up seeing them again along the way.

Why did I love traveling solo?

Freedom: I loved waking up when I wanted and casually preparing for the day without worrying about someone else’s schedule. If I wanted to read on the rooftop terrace or beach all morning, I could. If I wanted to spend an entire day taking photos of doors, I could. If I wanted to eat at Pollo Campero twice in one day, I could…maybe that’s not such a good thing.

Reading alone on the beach in Dubrovnik.

Feeling Adventurous: I got a lot more pleasure from my bus trips and hostel searches while I was going it alone. I felt more independent and adventurous throwing my bag up on the roof of a shuttle and waiting all alone at gas stations for the next bus. I became much more self-reliant during my month in Guatemala.

Meeting People: While couples who travel can and do meet people, it is much easier when you are by yourself. You are much more approachable as a single person and if you get a little lonely there is no other choice but to talk to a stranger. Solo travel forces you to be outgoing or you’ll just sit there alone and experience nothing. Travelers also feel an instant connection with each other, probably because of shared interests, similar age, and the college like atmosphere of hostels. Making friends is very easy.

My classmate, Lindley and me and La Parranda.

Shared Experiences: One huge apprehension I had about traveling solo was that I wouldn’t be sharing my experiences with anyone. I imagined wandering around a city by myself and snapping photos with no real memories. This is far from my actual experience. I almost always shared my time with someone that I met along the way. I’ve also kept in touch with a lot of people. There were definitely times that I wandered around alone, but it was by choice and I enjoyed it. I still have those memories even though no one was with me. I can look back at those photos and remember the day, the scene, the weather, the feeling. It doesn’t take being with another person to enjoy a place.

I also have great memories with people like dancing at La Parranda and the Tropicana, hiking up Mt. Pacaya, tasting the best chocolate fondue ever, wandering around a beautiful cemetery, swimming in Lake Atitlan, and witnessing someone take their very first bite of a McDonald’s cheeseburger.

Sami and her first Cheeseburger Happy Meal!

She liked the cheeseburger, by the way.

Of course this doesn’t mean I’m ditching Clark.

There were absolutely times when I missed him a lot and wished he was climbing the volcano, poking fun at the hippies, or jumping on a Chicken bus with me. But, separate experiences are good. And, I’m sure had a great time without me in Chicago. He spent most of it braving the “Snowpocalypse” huddled in Beth’s apartment with no electricity and heat and a five-foot high snow drift outside the front door. (I think I left at the perfect time!)

For those of you who are timid about solo travel, I have some advice: DO IT. Even if you have a husband, wife, significant other, new puppy, three cats, pet rock, whatever. Take a short trip by yourself. It’s liberating and empowering. You won’t regret it.

What do you love about traveling alone? Leave your comments below!

During my four weeks in Guatemala I had lots of “firsts”. In this next series of posts, I’ll be taking a look back at these experiences. I didn’t cover a lot of ground, but I do feel that I got a pretty authentic experience and learned a lot about Guatemalan culture and a little more Español than I knew before.

My first post in the series is about my experience riding Chicken buses and eating too much fried chicken. This post is about my time spent at the Minerva Spanish School and Culture Center in Quetzaltenango (also known as Xela).

Don Julio and his son greet the students each morning.

I’ve never taken one-on-one language classes before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from the five-hour-a-day sessions. On top of this, I would be staying with a family who spoke little or no English. I’m not new to the idea of a host family. I’ve stayed in plenty of homes on choir tours in college, through CouchSurfing, etc. But, I can usually communicate fairly easily with my hosts. This time would be much different.

Sound a little scary? It was.

I met my host, Ana, on a Sunday afternoon. Needless to say, my Spanish hadn’t really improved during my week of sight-seeing in Gringo-filled Antigua and Lake Atitlan. Communicating with her was not easy. I still only knew how to speak very limited, present-tense Spanish. It didn’t help that my host was missing a few front teeth which made her pretty hard to understand.

I really couldn’t hold a conversation. Ana and I tried to exchange a few pleasantries as she showed me around the house, but she figured out pretty quickly how little I was comprehending. When she left me alone in my new bedroom, I freaked out a little. I took a few minutes to hyperventilate and ask myself why on earth I did this. I’d already paid for one full week, so I knew I was on for at least that long and felt a little trapped.

I pulled myself together and whipped out my Spanish-English dictionary with a mission. I began to try to compose at least one coherent sentence and re-learn some basic verbs. With a little difficulty, I made it clear to Ana that I was going to go out and take a walk. (It probably sounded more like “I go walk to see city.”) She told me that dinner was at 7:00 (I actually understood that part.) and my Spanish experience began!

My first day of class only added to my anxiety. It was INTENSE, to say the least. Most of the teachers at the school were young and spoke a little English. Mine was a little older and spoke no English at all. I was not confident about my skills or optimistic about my prospects for improvement. Then, we took our first “tea break” and I met the other students.  They were a very fun group of girls that I got along with right away. My spirits rose a little.

Grace, Lindley, Bekah, and Mary. My Spanish school classmates.

By the end of the day I began progressing a little and got into “the zone” and I was in much higher spirits by the end of my first week. I’d been hanging out with my new classmates, salsa dancing, eating pupusas, drinking lots of coffee, and studying by booty off. It was good to hang out with other English speakers and share our experiences and apprehensions. We tried to practice a little, but mostly socializing with them really helped me to relax.

My teacher, also named Ana, seemed to think that I progressed pretty quickly, so in my second week, we stepped it up a notch. I started learning past and future verb tenses. I only spent two weeks studying at Minerva, but feel I got a very good “refresher” of the Spanish language.

I also loved my friendly host mom, Ana. She made some great food and took good care of me. Once I got over my initial apprehensions, I really enjoyed my time in Xela. With a little help from my dictionary, I’m even able to read the Sherlock Holmes story “The Redheaded League”. I never would have been able to do that a month ago. I’m still not great at conversing, but I can read and write enough to continue the progress on my own.

I highly recommend this type of program to anyone who wants to learn Spanish. Guatemala was a great setting. The people are super-friendly, there are a plethora of schools to choose from, and it isn’t expensive. Quetzaltenango feels much more “real” than Antigua, so I really enjoyed studying there. There are fewer Gringos and you can really immerse yourself here. Just bring a coat. It’s freaking cold!

Thinking of studying Spanish abroad? Have you had a similar experience? Feel free to e-mail me or comment below with questions or tips!

After spending a few sedentary days in Antigua, I was ready for a little activity. So, I signed up for the afternoon hike to volcán Pacaya. It’s one of Guatemala’s active volcanoes and last erupted in May of 2010. You can still see it smoldering on the skyline.

I had high hopes for this hike. It would be my first time climbing around on a volcano, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I just kept thinking of that Reading Rainbow episode when Levar Burton climbed around the steaming rocks with red-hot lava flowing in the cracks. I was really excited!

I climbed into a shuttle bus with about eight other people and we bounced our way out of the cobblestone streets of Antigua. It was a beautiful hour and a half ride to get to the base of the volcano. I spent the time chatting with my group and taking in the view.

We arrived at the base, met our guide, purchased some walking sticks from some kids, and hit the trail. Then came my first disappointment. Our guide only spoke Spanish. So, for most of the hike, I had to guess at what he was pointing at and telling us.

Every once in a while someone would ask follow-up questions or discuss what he just said in English, so I got the idea. I even got used to that after a while and began to catch on to more and more of what he said.

No one had prepared me for how difficult this hike would be. It’s quite hard climbing up a steep incline through slippery gravel with short little legs. We were continually losing our footing and catching our balance on whatever we could grab, even each other. About 15 minutes in, my legs were covered in volcanic dust from the shins down.

Our canine companions (who probably make the journey several times a day) were even huffing and puffing.  To make matters worse, a happy-go-lucky group of Australians bounced ahead of me, chatting away like it was nothing!

Luckily, I wasn’t the only one struggling. A couple of Israeli guys, a girl from the Netherlands, and I took up the rear for most of the hike. We were continually shouting encouragement to each other, offering our assistance, and frequently stopping for water.

I nearly took up the offer for a horse-back  “taxi” ride about half-way up. But, I managed to stick it out.

The thought of the beautiful view of the smoldering volcano, possibly oozing red-hot lava helped sustain me during the hour and a half struggle. Imagine my surprise when I saw this instead:

This is it? This is what I climbed up here for? Visibility at the top was about 10 meters. We were all noticeably disappointed as we snapped photos of white nothingness. Then, our guide said it was time to continue on.

What? It’s not over? The hope of seeing rivulets of lava (or ate least seeing something) re-kindled in us and we all followed him eagerly down a steep slope into the thick mist.

Instead of flowing lava, we got deep cracks in the side of the mountain with hot air gushing out. Okay, that isn’t too bad. It’s something volcano-ish, at least!

We spent some time throwing little pieces of paper into the cracks and watching them burn. We also enjoyed cheering on the Australian guy who took his life into his own hands by jumping over the crack, scorching the hair on his legs.

The sky also cleared up right before sunset so we could get a few photos of us close to Pacaya. Our guide took us into the “sauna” which was a cave that felt like an oven. Then, we turned around and made the long trek back.

Needless to say, I was a little disappointed in my Volcano journey. Our guide didn’t even bring marshmallows to roast over the cracks! I felt a little cheated.

If you plan on hiking to Pacaya, I highly recommend taking the morning tour and BYOM. I saw several people’s photos and the sky is much clearer in the morning. Every evening I was in Antigua, there were clouds and fog around all the volcano peaks, but it was quite clear in the mornings.

I don’t regret going on the hike. I did get up close to my first volcano, got a good work-out, met some fun people, saw some great sights, and it was fairly inexpensive. I’m sure I’ll hike another volcano during my time here in Guatemala. The country has 33 volcanoes that are begging to be explored!

Have you hiked a volcano? Comment below and share your experience!