Written by Jackie
I never intended it to be a solo mission, mainly because I don’t speak a lick of Spanish. Also, it was more about meeting people and growing. If I know me, it takes time to break me open; an English speaking permaculture farm in the heart of the jungle for 5 months sounded more up my alley. But, after just 4 weeks, I decided to leave the finca (that’s farm in Spanish), and learnt more about myself while backpacking than I thought possible.
Time is the biggest factor when looking to make significant breakthroughs. Having planned to be gone for the entire winter, I was left with money burning a hole in my pocket and a fix that wasn’t quite well… fixed. The only people who become their inspirations are those that take the leap. Not just barely passed their comfort zone, but off a fucking cliff and down the river from it. The good folks on the farm taught me that, so, I had to experience it for myself.
The spontaneity couldn’t of worked out any better than if I had actually planned it. An amazing couple from Holland offered to take me under their wing. Over the 4 weeks, I taught one of them to weld and we built an amazing rocket stove out of scrap metal. We spent hours with each other every day, and when the farm became too much for me, I had confided in him. I was relieved to find out he felt the same way about the ‘politics’ of some of the people there. After proposing the idea to his girlfriend, they agreed to be my lips and ears (they knew Spanish) as we navigated through the rockiest of backpacker routes. Knowing a little Spanish is necessary when wandering off the tourist trail.
They were a god-send. Without them, I probably would’ve ended up going home after a brief stint on a tourist beach. Instead, I got to visit small towns, eat street food, and experience authentic culture. As fun as this was, it wasn’t without it’s eye-openers.
The first stop was a little town in Nicaragua, known for it’s surfing and tourism. Super fun town. Because my hosts were on a strict budget, we ate exclusively from markets and vendors; at our first stop, we found it just off the beaten path. My first experience of a market was pigs’ heads on hooks and veggie scraps all over the ground. It smelled of warm meat and sweat. There were people pushing and yelling and chasing away stray dogs. I got to experience the bartering that’s common place and how to say no to pushy people.
The next few cities were a blur, with a few exceptions. One of the backpacker hostels we stayed in was located in a tree house in the jungle. Monkeys were regular visitors up there. The sight of them swinging through the trees as the sun set, is one of my favourite mental images I hold to this day. There was a great group of people there and we had Christmas dinner and danced the night away. These few days were the start of my walls coming down and letting go of any fears I had. I felt welcome and part of something new and exciting. Travellers are all looking for that connection. An escape from the person they are at home, or perhaps to challenge themselves without fear of judgement.
Living on a budget added stress at times. Food vendors tend to all sell the same things. Fried rice and beans. Fried plantains. Fried cheese. As a vegetarian, these were my options. One night, I snapped and said I needed change and couldn’t keep eating that unhealthy crap. Being the wonderful couple they were, they reminded me I didn’t have to eat it. I wasn’t on a budget – they were. I realized there on the dark street that I was grateful for all they taught me and I wanted the full experience. From then on, I was just happy to be eating. Far better off than all those starving dogs on the streets 😦 Nose turned up, I proudly walked passed tourist restaurants, knowing that I had beat them.
And this was the start of being thankful. I started to experience the little things more and stopped worrying about things like time, money, clean clothes, and hygiene (to a certain degree). Extended vacations should do that to you. You should realize that it’s the connections, the experiences, the moments that matter. Not how it happens or why. It just is.
After beginning to feel a sense of independence and confidence, I decided to break off on my own. I had seen a country and a half with them, and was beginning to get the gist. Plus, I wanted to see the Caribbean. This didn’t stop me from crying while waving bye to them as the bus pulled away. I had spent 7 weeks (4 on the farm) with them, and was going to miss them deeply. I owed the biggest breakthroughs I had to them, and they would never fully know my appreciation. From Leon in Nicaragua, I rode a bus all the way to Antigua, Guatemala. Longest, scariest bus ride of my trip. All alone. Hungover. No plans. No Spanish. I was scared. Just stick to the tourist trail and you’ll be okay, they told me.
I stuck to the tourist trail as best as I could and still wound up in a hostel with people who could barely understand English. This was a result of getting a little too confident and not booking a bed in the most popular hostel and having to settle for the second. Most cities had at least 2 popular hostels but I assumed wrong this time. Lesson learned, and next city I made sure to book a couple days in advance. Yay! Back to the comforting swarms of English speaking backpackers in Flores. Lucky for me, my next stop would be Belize, and they speak English there 😉
I spent about a week on Caye Caulker, a Belize Island crammed with backpackers. This was my second favourite place of my trip, after San Juan Del Sur (the surfer town). Picture roads covered in sand and people stumbling around in flip flops, in and out of pubs. Lots of drinking and partying to be had there. No actual beach but a huge dock with a bar on it did the trick nicely. I also took in some snorkeling while I was there, and swam with sharks and sting rays! :O It can’t all be about budgeting…
Next came Mexico. Ahh yes, trusty-old, reliably touristy Mexico. I mostly just sat on beaches and drank margaritas. I actually spent a lot of my time in the hostels there because I wasn’t interested in spending vast amounts of money… and maybe I was starting to tire from the sun (thanks, Belize).
I was also used to eating from markets and buying our own booze. But since I had no means of speaking Spanish, markets were out of the question. So I ate McDonald’s. More than a few times. I also didn’t like the people my hostel was filled with – too many ‘Jersey Shore’ types, if you catch my drift. So not a lot of socializing going on. Actually, on the day I was leaving, I had a really nice experience of meeting two fellow Canadians that were bunking beside me. They recognized my accent as Canadian and we all had a laugh about it. I suddenly wished I had one more day with them.
It was really nice to see the difference though, between places like Playa Del Carmen and Leon. Two completely different worlds. This is how you find yourself. Experiencing both extremes in an independent capacity leaves you free to make mistakes, and allows you to watch and feel your reactions without distractions of others or wait staff in a resort.
I flew out of Cancun, and reality hit quicker than a sack of bricks. People with their Starbucks and Androids, in massive lines everywhere I looked. So many ungrateful people heading off for places like… Playa Del Carmen. Will these people ever get to see the underside of travelling? Will they get to experience the fear of monkeys throwing feces at you in the jungle, or wondering if you missed the bus, or if you’re even in the right spot? Will they ever reach a point of fully accepting unforeseen situations – even uncomfortable or terrifying ones? Will they ever get to actually see, smell, taste, and listen to the way life unfolds itself, when allowed to fully envelop them?
NipplesAndJoysticks 