I’m writing this on Monday, on a bus bound for the Belize border, and in about an hour or so, I will leave Guatemala behind after about three and a half months in your clutch.
In a way, it feels as though I am leaving home. What a wild journey it has been.
I showed up to your border in August, thinking I might spend a week or two with you before continuing south through Central America.
That joke was most certainly on me.
Instead, I fell in love with your architecture, your culture, your landscapes; your passion and patience, your intelligence, your liberal smiles.
I swam in your lakes, I shopped in your markets, I walked up your hills, I fell in love with your people. And I found I couldn’t leave.