So this post goes out to all of you who dream of building a life of travel. If you are sitting on the fence about quitting your job, this is a plan for you in real dollars and cents (or should I say, in meagre rupees?):
I almost didn’t go to Honduras. I remember sitting in a cafe, skyping with my friend, trying to decide if we should travel there; it sounded beautiful, but also pretty damn scary. San Pedro Sula, the entry point into Honduras, is nicknamed the murder capital of the world. And Honduras itself, one of the most violent places on earth. A Tripadvisor forum advised people not to step out of their hotel on foot at any time of the day. Would we be risking our lives?! That afternoon, I sought shelter from a heavy downpour in the public basketball court of San Marcos La Laguna, my last stop in Guatemala (Read: My Impressions of Guatemala). I hadn’t played in years, and couldn’t resist the shy invite to join young Mayan boys and girls for an exciting, adrenalin-packed game – the things we can never imagine doing on the other side of the world! Resting my tired limbs, I got chatting with a young man who turned out to be the sports coach in these parts. When he asked where I would go next, …
It was almost midnight when I knocked on the door of a humble yellow house, hours after the tiny village of San Jose had tucked in. Below, lake Peten Itza glowed softly in the moonlight.
Last week in the Pico Bonito forest reserve of Honduras, I met Juan and Roberto of the indigenous Garifuna community. I was fascinated by their affection for the dense rainforest and the diverse life it harbored, but even more by their culture, an integral part of which involves celebrating death as a new beginning. When one of their own dies, there is no mourning at the funeral; instead the community gets together to play the upbeat Punta music, dance and make merry – One last celebration!