Not for the weak

Guatemala is not for the weak, or the asthmatic or bronchial-challenged. It is a country soaked in suffering and survival charmed with volcanoes and beautiful people. Xela (where we are now) in the Western Highlands is a town waving in heards of tourists longing to speak Spanish and whispering upon them all sorts of fatigue. Unlike most tourist destinations, where you spark up a conversation of the best beach, best hike, adventure or place to eat - Xela draws comradery with stories of shared sickness, good antibiotics and where to find a good, clean meal. Of course, there is more to this land of beautiful people and intrigue, but this week, we got a first hand dose of the crap, and so we´re reveling in it a bit.

After 3 weeks here, mi esposo´s body let go to a wave of vulnerability that hit him up with a soupfull of sickness. He´s on the mend now, after 3 doctors visits, multiple antibiotics, mucho weakness, and crazy night fevers. Our spanglish has either left him with the diagnosis of samonella, infection of the gut, or typhoid fever. We´re cheering for samonella, and he goes again to the doctor tomorrow to double check on his recovery. I´ve been using up all of my positive thinking trying to heal him, and he´s been taking heavy doses of antibiotics, so we´ll see.

If we get a thumbs up from the doctor, we´ll motor out of Xela. In a frantic night fever Matthew begged me not to let him die in this bed in Xela and to take him to warmer, better-breathing ground. And so we go without looking back or feeling bad about it. It´s all part of the adventure, all part of learning, all part of being alive-good and bad. We´ve met 2 motor-homing folks in their 60s that offered us a ride to Lake Atitlan and the beaches in El Salvador. Jumping aboard the gas-guzziling motor home with an oil engineer doesn´t seem so demonic at the moment, and much more like rolling into the arms of mom and pop. And so, if my husband can rise to the occassion and surmount the forces of natural selection, we´ll blow off spanish school this week and take some time to heal, clear up the lungs, and warm up the bones.

Matthew, here, folks. I just thought you all might want to hear from the accursed himself. I´m alive, and this isn´t an elaborate life insurance scam my wife cooked up to off me. She loves me well. I don´t know how it happened but it happened. We came here to eventually go and help the needy and sick. I knew we, too, we´re going to garner our share of the plagues, but I just didn´t think I´d catch something horrible before we had time to exit the airport terminal. This is my fifth trip to Central America, and I suppose I thought, idiotically, I was immune to what wipes out armies. Dude, I´m dumb, but also on the mend, and I think Poncho from Chips, my doctor, is up to the task. It seems the los Dioses (gods) still want me around after all.