hind sights

I sat on the ground with my back against the old stucco wall of the cantina. i ran my fingers around the rim of my hat and looked west down the old dusty road back toward antigua. The bus was late, it didn't raise any concerns because pretty much everything in Guatemala had been late. my flight, the train, the meal we shared at Carls place. Carl is a friend of Michael and Kate, whom I met on the flight down from Mexico City. They're teachers and staying in a small village called San Pedro outside of Guatemala city. Carl owns a restaurant which he started out of his garage about a decade ago when the influx of american consultants working with Pfizer created a bit of a tourist boom on the carribean coast. The place has grown since then and so we found ourselves sitting beneath a cabana in Carls backyard at a large picnic style table. Christmas lights were snaked around the red painted wood beams which criss-crossed their way above our heads. The daylight was fast retreating, casting a faint blue and yellow hue over everything. The heat of that days sun still hung in the air around us and so i was quite comfortable in flip flops, jeans and an old tshirt. I reached for a beer and considered the week i'd spent in Mexico. this sent a smile spreading across my lips which did not escape michael. He raised an eyebrow, asking an inaudible question. I just shook my head and laughed. I was considering where to begin when carl appeared from behind the old red sheet which hung in the doorway seperating the patio from the kitchen. his arms were loaded with plates venting off steam. My eyes widened as the abstract colors came closer and formed themselves into our dinner. Fish cakes smothered in papaya pimento sauce. My mouth watered and i set my beer back down, anticipating the burst of grilled citrus. I wasn't disappointed. we let carl do all the talking, the three of us digging into the bowl of rice, beans and fresh homemade tortillas. The fish kept marching over from the grill and flopping itself onto our plates. we ate, drank, laughed and sat in absolute contented silence until late into the evening. I crawled into the hammock and stared up at the stars, letting my body fold inward and relax. I wanted to go back to Mexico. I wanted to see it one more time. I wanted to crawl those seven flights of stairs up to the old wooden door and slide my borrowed key into the lock one last time. I had not expected to fall in love with that city, or the people that shared their homes and stories with me. I felt infinitely open and vulnerable in the best ways. I couldn't stop smiling that night as i faded into a soft happy sleep or the next day as i climbed out of the hammock and stretched myself awake, or sat watching the boy and girl kick a ball around, waiting for the bus to rumble down the avenue and carry me home.