There’s no easy way to explain why I am where I am or what I’m doing here. To fully explain, it feels like I would have to start at birth. I’m not in the mood to write a 33 year chronological autobiography, so here’s the short version:
Currently living in La Antigua, Guatemala, a quaint tourist-y village that dates back to the Spanish colonial era and is nestled between 3 volcanoes at roughly a mile of altitude. I came by way of Belize, from Seattle, where I grew up.
For the moment, I’m working as a Virtual Assistant (I know, it sounds like a fake job, but it’s not), previously was a Hairstylist and Waitress. In my early twenties, I was a Scuba Diving Instructor.
I’ve wanted to travel for as long as I can remember, probably since the time I could read, or maybe even earlier. My mother tells me stories of how I would sneak out of our home at 3 years-old, and run down the path to my friend Filaree’s house to play. My favorite storybook was ‘The Runaway Bunny’. So, I figure, I was probably born this way.
I finally made the break from the States on October 16, 2011. Due to a break-up and other conspiring events in my life, coupled with a long worked for freedom, I left. With $5000, a part-time virtual job, and my wits and experience, I walked away. I wasn’t made for cubicles and corporate ladders, IRA’s and health insurance, bus schedules and time clocks. I can’t make myself conform, and after years of half-heartedly trying, I gave up.
I didn’t have a plan other than Belize. Belize started out as a two-week vacation, so I had a round-trip ticket, but I skipped the plane ride home. Basically, nothing has turned out how I would have expected or loosely planned. It’s been a ride. Maybe it’s hard to explain because even I don’t really know why I’m here. It’s just that I must. I must see, feel, smell, hear and taste more. More of the world, more of myself, more of kindred souls and adversaries. I have an aching curiosity that will not let me rest until I have seen all I can see.
And so, I continue. I don’t know where I’ll be in a year or even 6 months. I don’t know exactly what I’ll be doing. But I’ll be living. I’ll be drinking up every last drop of every last day, like a hungry baby at the breast of life.
This blog is an attempt to chronicle my experiences, memories, and musings. The real story behind the fantasy everyone at home thinks I’m living. It’s been rough, it’s been beautiful, but it’s been and continues to be worth it.