Jesse and I were riding our bikes back from the beach and a distinct aroma of burning found its way to my nostrils. Instantaneously thoughts, memories, emotions of Guatemala overtook me like a whirlwind. I am continuously astonished at the ability a simple fragrance has to capture one’s heart and send it into a frenzy of passionate remembrance. The photographs, the Chichicastenango marketplace articles, the faces of those who ventured through the hills alongside of me; nothing can stand up to the fragrances of Guatemala. Maybe it’s the spontaneity or the sudden shock of its onset that authenticates a smell. All I know is that I rode my bike through a little bit of Guatemala the other day and it was heavenly. Every fiber of my being felt comforted to be at home, to be back where life ultimately has meaning, where the smiles are so genuine and appreciative, where adventure and discovery are a continuous embarkment (that might not be a word), where life just feels fuller. And then the aroma was gone and I was me, living in Grand Haven, riding home from the beach. But it’s ok because I’ve been to Guatemala and even though I’m me living in Grand Haven so close to the beach, that smell would simply have been wood burning if Guatemala wasn’t living in me.
(three posts in a row... take that humidity!)
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