People told me, “Eh, Panajachel,” and they were right. Had I known about the market day shuttle from San Marcos, and the ease of the boats, I might have skipped it. Still, I had a good time.
I got a quiet room to myself, where I cried and skyped with Rachelle, emailed B, did a bit of writing. I went hiking, saw some monkey and some other animals whose names I don’t know. I took a Spanish class (my main traveling addiction this trip, besides buying jewelry – I just bought another necklace today!), ate at some veg-friendly/vegetarian cafés, slept, ran.
Sometimes, a day off is what we need. I didn’t need to hike a volcano. I just needed to be alone. I sat on the big bed in my room and cried. I cried for what I had lost, I cried for the pain I stored in myself, I cried for the pain I have inflicted on others.