Volcan de Fuego, viewed from Ciudad Vieja, Guatemala
Almost 4 months since Glen and I entered Guatemala.
And a few weeks we’ve been stuck here.
We make it look nice. We’re on a journey and this comes with surprises and obstacles we say.
After all, we manage.
When we find a decent cheap(er) hotel, we settle for a while until we work things out to leave.
Bureaucracy is working our patience, training it.
I got upset and cursed our forced prolonged stay in Guatemala.
But reading a friend this morning, I see that the obstacles have allowed new inner movements.
It’s realization time. One I enjoy.
Working on our next film while stuck in Guatemala, we accumulate stories of our own.
A few days ago I sent my family this photo Glen took of the volcano we can see standing at the door of our hotel room. I reassured my daughter that this wasn’t as dramatic as it looked. I was told people here prefer seeing the volcano’s activity than a loaded silence…
But last night, the volcano roared and the red lava transformed its sporadic lines into a blazing triangle atop the mountain.
I was less certain about its proximity.
I was born on a volcanic island, with an active volcano.
But this is my first time watching one erupting.
While stuck in Guatemala.
And while finding my way out of procrastination, or through it, giving it a meaning.
I finished editing the Spanish narration of our upcoming film,
the postal services lost an important document we need to get out of here,
it’s a new trecena beginning in the Mayan calendar,
we feel a new dynamic in our team,
the volcano soared and spat its fire…
And I wrote a post.