a wee report on a wee day

The friend I am travelling with loves the Jazz playoffs, and how could I not oblige him and come to this bar and sip virgin pina coladas so he could watch a riveting game 6. I, of course came with an alternate agenda, and no, it is not trying to act cool and pick up on guatemalan men, it is rather something that might send out the nerd vibes so strongly that I may have no problem even worrying about talking to anyone here in this bar. Firstly, I will say this, giant fanny pack. Yes, I turn it around and it rides nicely above my butt, but a fanny pack nonetheless. This fanny pack is filled with various items i've collected, scissors, papers, a glue stick, adhesive rub on alphabets, pens, colored pencils and my journal. I love journaling. I could do it all day. Elisa bought me a lovely moleskin black-covered journal with an expandable pocket in the back, which only disillusions me into thinking that I have unlimited space for strange pack-rat items that I may just someday paste into the trusty old journal. What? you might ask, are you doing with a fanny pack filled with so many items that seem so frivilous, i also ask myself the same thing when I actually failed to pack more than 3 mis-matched outfits for this two week excursion.

So that is what I plan to do with my evening, and I feel great about it. I will tell a little bit now about what I will write in my journal tonight.

We are still in Antigua, a terribly charming little colonial cobblestoned city where all the houses are painted different bright colors. This afternoon as I sped up a steep, curvy and mountainous back road right below a volcano on a scooter, I had to ask myself, who in their right mind handed me the keys to a vespa for 7 dollars an hour without even asking me if i knew how to drive it, which I did know by the end of the day. Don't worry dad, I was wearing a helmet, but there were numerous times when I nearly whiffed it, but I knew I'd be fine. I think the funniest part was when we were hurrying back so we didn't have to pay for another hour and Chris got ahead of me, he turned down the right street before I saw where he'd went so I just kept going down this trafficked cobblestone road. I realized that I was a little lost so I started trying to make my way back through the maze of one way streets and sidewalk markets. There were ladies with baskets on their heads all over the place, scoungy dogs, taxis, cars and dread locked tourists staring skeptically at me with my ridiculously large helmet. Small turns were the most difficult for me and I imagine they would have stared a little more skeptically if they had actually seen me nearly rev into the backs of their girlfriends as i bumped around a crazy cobble stoned turn. Luckily they didn't notice and by this point i was laughing so hard to myself that I didn't even mind the chaos I was in the midst of.

It was at some point during all of this that I came to the realization that God must really love me to let me be okay always, either that or He is not ready to deal with all of the hoo-haw up there. No, really though, I know it's because He takes care of us. miss you guys!


Club Narwhal said...

oh man, i love this. it makes me so glad to picture you earnestly gluing things into your journal while sneakers squeak in the background and the bar crowd erupts in cheers. perfection.

david. said...

i feel like i deserve some credit for the fanny pack idea!
for REALZ.

poppies in july said...

oh ashley ashley, the image of you in a fanny pack on a vespa with wee bits of journal scraps flying about is hilarious. seriously. i am so glad you are having such a glorious time in guatemala and honduras and long creeky bus rides. sometimes i pause and imagine you and chris way down south and i figuratively blow you a million kisses. say hi to chris for me. love you.