Pierdo Tiempo

by goatlove

I´m losing time.

I´ve been on Río Dulce for the last 4 nights, a beautiful emerald covered river that flows into the Golf of Honduras.  I took a day trip to Livingston today, hiking four hours through the jungle and jungle corn fields to get here.  I met a man on the street trying to sell me drinks at a local restaurant, when I asked him how much things were he looked insulted and said, ¨I don´t know, I´m a musician.¨  When I met him a second time on the street he took my by the arm and said ¨Don´t walk with me girl, don´t walk with me,¨ pulled me along with him and said, ¨I´m supposed to meet you today.¨  He took me to the Garifuna side of the town, it´s a local people who are more Caribbean than Guatemalteco, black skin, bits of Rasta culture, music.  We had a short walk and talk about his travels to the States, the weather in Maine, and religion.  In a few minutes I´ll catch the lancha back up the river to Finca Tatín.

I´m losing time at Finca Tatín.  I can´t believe this will be my fifth night there. The scenery is beautiful.

Río Dulce, where I´m staying now, is a river community.  The river itself is huge in parts, kayaking on it feels scary in that rolling open water sort of way.  In the quiet arms of the river the water is jade green and smooth like glass.  I kayaked in a spot so undisturbed that I felt disoriented with the double image reflected before me that I paddled forwards into.  There are no roads here and few trails.  The water is the way to take.  The locals paddle small wooden canoes that sit so low to the water it appears that the slightest disturbance would swap them completely.

Tomorrow I´ll be heading back west to my first volunteer project, Maya Pedal.  Or maybe I´ll leave the day after tomorrow.

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