Haze and water

Squint: Finally we made it to Guatemala, one long, dark night of driving and flat tire later. As hard as I tried I couldn't fulfill my duties as the driverside passenger, though I did try feebly to make small talk with Vladimir for a short while before the mountain curves and the darkness lulled me to sleep like a baby. We slept on the border and in the morning boarded a small, wooden boat across the Usumacinta River. At the top of the muddy stone stairs awaiting us on the other side, we jumped right on a bus, made a quick and painless stop at immigration, and we were off on a long, bumpy, dirt road for many hours before reaching the island of Flores. Along the way the streets are filled with chickens and pigs and children who rush to the ends of paths to watch the bus go past. The land is green but the signs of destructive deforestation are all around us- mainly in freshly burnt palm remnants, rows of freshly planted corn, and acres upon acres of cattle farms. Guatemala is also filled with fog, rising up from lakes and valleys, covering the road at times and at others, the sky. Figuring out how much Quetzales are actually worth is making our brains ache and the amount of English on walls and stores is confusing. Maybe for the first time in a few months I feel that I am somewhere very unfamiliar.