Everyone, I'm sure, has put themselves into situations that could have become much worse. Most of the time, everything turns out okay, but sometimes it doesn't. This ran through my mind on Wednesday when I realized I was lost in Xela.
Earlier in the week, my host mother Glendi asked if I wanted to run up the nearby mountain, so we decided to do this on Wednesday morning. Danilo joined us and we left at 6:30, mas o menos. The run was all uphill and it turned out that Danilo and Glendi were not as into running as I was hoping. They told me to just run ahead, so I did. I hadn't a clue what road I was on or if there was a well-marked end, and if so, how far it was. So I ran and ran and walked and ran some more. I was in a time crunch to go on a trip at 8:15, but I was determined to make it.
I crossed paths with many hardcore-looking runners, which was pretty neat. I made it to the top, eventually. Woo! I didn't have time to relax though, so I snapped some photos and was off back down the hill.
I immediately thought that this was probably not the smartest decision, but I knew that where the road up the mountain begins was not far from the house. So I flew down the mountain, or felt that way until I passed a man running faster up the road than I was running down. I got back into the city and was immediately on alert for landmarks to help me get home. At first everything was familiar and then suddenly it wasn't. So I backtracked, but that wasn't helping. I was lost.
I continued to run around the area in hopes of seeing something familiar, but it was a fruitless endeavor. I was now in a slight state of panic and telling myself that I'm not THAT lost and there are plenty of people around and it won't be the end of the world if I miss the trip.
But the other half of my brain screamed at me about how any of these people could be dangerous and I could be way farther than I think and the family will get home before me and think I was abducted and Chris won't know where I am and she might miss the trip too and it will be all my fault.
Breath, Laura, breath.
So I started asking people, "Donde esta dos Calle?" "Where is street 2?" This didn't help, because Chris informed me later that we live on segunda Calle... 2nd St. But all was not lost. I live close to a big supercado called La Torre. So I asked an adorable older woman "Donde esta La Torre?" And she explained the turns I needed to make.
The supermercado was in view within 5 minutes. I really wasn't THAT lost after all. I made it to our street, without a clue what time it was, and then saw Chris walking towards the house. It turned out the trip wasn't until 8:30 so when Chris saw no one was there yet she first headed to the restaurant, which was still closed, and then back home. So I had all of 5 minutes to get myself ready and head back to school for the trip.
The rest of the day was rough; after the run that turned out to be 6-7 miles, we went for a hike up to a sauna. My breakfast was a fun sized Milky Way and a granola bar. By lunch, tengo mucho hambre. I can't remember what I had (I think it was pollo quiche or Chile relleno), but I know it was delicious.
After desayuno, I went home to try to nap. Chris actually got to fall asleep, but I opted for cuddling with the kitten, which made sleeping impossible. Then we were rushing off to class at 2. Being exhausted BEFORE five hours of intensive 1:1 Spanish instruction is not a good sign. So I invited her to walk with me to get some treats. We visited the church and the government building nearby. Then I found a place to buy coca cola, m&ms and sour gummy worms. I also treated my maestra, Mariella, to a drink. We have an infinite supply of coffee at the school, but I drank so much of it on Tuesday that I desired an alternate source of caffeine.
With help for soda, dulces, and a walk, I made it through Spanish and forced myself to get a good night's sleep.
It is already Friday as I write this and there is much more to share. But for now I must go. Tengo hacer mi tirea!
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