Still, they walk: perspectives on the migrant caravan, from Guatemala

Over the months I’ve traveled throughout Guatemala, I’ve met many friends here, and occasionally, as we’ve discussed the U.S. in conversation, I’ve asked them a question:

Quieres ir allí, algún día?

Do you want to go there, someday?

Though no one I’ve met has voluntarily spoken a single bad word about the U.S., the answer, to this direct question, usually involves a shy shrug, perhaps a bowed head.

A friend I met recently here in Cobán replied with this:

“I don’t think I’m wanted there.”

Another friend, in Guatemala City responded, shaking his head:

“I can’t put myself through that.”

I could predict the answer, but each time, it breaks my heart over again.

It makes me think of the caravan of migrants currently making its way through Mexico and toward the U.S. border — the group of a few thousand young men, mothers and babies from Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala that has so captured the nation and become something of a political prop heading into tomorrow’s midterm elections.

GALLERY: San Cristóbal de las Casas, Mexico

Scenes from around San Cristóbal de las Casas, a mountainous town in the southern state of Chiapas known for its diverse population and cuisine, it’s cultural bounty and its natural beauty.

Read more about San Cristóbal here.

Live Inspired: how to be a rubber band

• Brought to you by John Reamer and Associates •

It seems far away now, but I haven’t forgotten the frustration that once bubbled up, regularly.

Sitting in a cubicle, under fluorescent lights, abiding to stiff work hours, I felt like I was going a little insane. I was trying to be creative in the most uncreative space I could imagine.

How much better could I be, I thought, if I could remove this bulky structure, if I could write when and where I was inspired? If I could wander and discover, until creativity struck. And certainly it would strike all the time.

Those urges were among the reasons I decided to take this leap, and I expect a lot of people who make major change in their lives have similar motivations.

Yet, as I’ve discarded that resented framework, I’ve found, the pieces within it sometimes threaten to unravel, too.

GALLERY: Huatulco, Mexico

Scenes from around Bahías de Huatulco, a coastal town in the state of Oaxaca, known for its nine, beautiful bays and ocean-fresh seafood.

Live Inspired: finding peace on the road

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I realized I felt it, truly, for the first time in weeks on the way to San Cristóbal de las Casas, a mountain town on the southern border of Mexico.

Already, it had been quite a day.

After a week each in Mexico City, Oaxaca and Huatulco, I was on the move again, a process that had become stressful as I started my transition from “avid traveler with a steady job” to “full-time nomad struggling to pay her bills.”

I’d taken two flights, discovered I needed to pay for my overweight carry-on (apparently that’s a thing in Mexico), and then nearly missed my connection from Mexico City after mistakenly walking out to Baggage Claim 7 instead of down to Gate 7 (why were they next to each other anyway?!), making my way through security again and then losing said boarding pass.

Now, after all that, I was on an hourlong shuttle to my next destination.

67 things I learned after one month in Mexico

Well gang, it’s officially been a month in Mexico. 

Four weeks ago, I landed in Mexico City, unsure of what I would encounter but incredibly excited for the vastness of possibility. 

Four cities, a small gaggle of new friends and a roller coaster of emotions later, I feel like a new person in some ways — one who is constantly re-establishing her needs, wants and personality in new places and with new acquaintances, often in a new language. The normalcy of routine is gone, but in its place have come so many lessons, realizations and a small understanding of life lived in different cities and towns — ranging from trivial to enlightening.

Here’s some of what I’ve learned:

CITY GUIDE: Huatulco’s secret beaches, fresh fish

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Enrique came upstairs to where I was drinking coffee, his eyes dancing.

“Venga conmigo,” he said, come with me. “I have something to show you.”

Downstairs, on the back patio of my Airbnb host’s cocina, was a white styrofoam cooler, overflowing with bright pink fish, their sleek tails and scales gleaming in the morning sun.

Live Inspired: a new, strange life

• Brought to you by John Reamer and Associates •

Over the last three weeks, traveling solo through Mexico has given me some of the most memorable moments of my life.

It’s also given me some of my biggest challenges. 

I’ve traveled overseas alone, a lot. But in the past, I’ve always had an end date, a more luxurious budget, an ability to go with the flow — because the pressure of getting real things done was low.

I would soak it up. Live in the moment. Then I would go home. 

Now, I am attempting to start a business while learning living abroad. Either situation, alone, might have be enough to overwhelm me. Managing the two, together, has been almost breaking at times.

Last week, I called my mom while sitting at a cafe in a new place, where the WiFi wouldn’t work. My voice cracked in a way I rarely allow in public. I hoped my sunglasses would hide the tears rolling down my cheeks.