Computers are so weird after nothing but trees for two weeks. And the Guatemalan internet won´t let me check my emails. I´m in Flores, it´s an island in a lake, and tomorrow or the day after I may go to Tikal. Then onwards and southwards, making a snakelike line towards the coast down to the bottom of Nicaragua. And back up.
That´s the future. So, Barton Creek Outpost. Lack of civilisation. Hmm. How about that? Where to start when one is sleepy from lunch? With the Mennonites or the dirt road out there, or the snakes (that I never saw) or the toucans (that I first saw today). Or the green green greeness of it all. Maybe I will just have to tell you when I see you, about hunting the iguana and the rangers up the creek, and the canoes. And the cave! Oh the cave! Joy and wonder!
So now I am back where normal things happen, and people speak Spanish, which I don´t really. I have spent much time standing looking incredibly dumb while thinking of something to say. There are so many white people all over the place! I must run away from them! I shall go the Carribean, where the Garifuna live, and laze on beaches and avoid malaria.
I will also write again soon.
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