November, 2015 - Sretna nova godina! честита нова година! 新年快乐! Bonne année! Шинэ жилийн баярын мэнд хvргэe! Feliz ano novo! ශුභ අළුත් අවුරුද්දක් වේවා! Blwyddyn newydd dda! Frohes neues Jahr! HAPPY (Gregorian) NEW YEAR, WORLD!!!! 

Whatever your festivities, traditions, or hopes for the future, may it be one filled with learning and love! 

And if, by chance, you are looking to add charitable giving to your resolutions, by all means visit our website and watch a video here!

Or see our video by clicking the photo here. 

Big thanks to this month's donors! Most notably, the Strawn Family and three anonymous contributors (you know who you are!) whose donations are literally making this trip a reality.

From our hearts and to yours: Thank you.

​T&D

We last left off while undertaking the vast and gorgeously varied neighbor-nation of Mexico, where from, with tummies full of tacos and minds full of friends, we loaded our loaded hearts and bellies on a plane and flew south for a second time.

Up until this point in our journey, we had only been in North America. Initially in the US, then Canada, Costa Rica, Panama, Nicaragua, Honduras, San Salvador, Guatemala, Belize, and Mexico followed. Most of our trip has been accomplished by land travel. It’s reliably one of the least expensive options (keeping our small, ever-shrinking bank account happy) and offers an up-close view of the land and cities where we are (something an airplane causes one to miss). 

When crossing from North to South America, there are actually no feasible options over land through "The Darien Gap" (the stretch of jungle between Panama and Colombia that is nearly unnavigable). According to Daniel, less than a handful have made the full trek due to the natural wilderness, plus heavily armed dangers that lurks there. Turns out this would be the first of many times drug cartels and unsanctioned military presence would impede our roads.

We flew from Mexico’s capital to Colombia’s, and Bogota greeted us with texts from our hosts warning, “Don’t trust anyone who doesn’t work for the airport or the Official Taxi Company,” and, “Come straight to the apartment.” It seems the perilous systems that endanger the jungles have penetrated a majority of society as well. We were told by many folks in many situations, "Don't even go there..."

Our host family is from the States, has ties to the US Travel Bureau, and with it a wealth of knowledge about the do’s and don’ts of Colombian destinations. Needless to say, there were a lot of don’ts. 

I was a bit upset about missing landscapes and outer towns of this new country. But in the end, I’m sure we were fortunate to have avoided bouncing around needlessly where we could have been kidnapped, robbed, or killed (no kidding). Instead, we wound up engaged in far more delightful and delicious endeavors which involved spending a great deal of time with our wonderful, stellar, hilarious, generous, colorful, absolutely-reeking-with-awesomeness family. 

I’ll refrain from the vain effort of effectively conveying the truly fantastical cool factor that this family has achieved. All in all, we spent time eating (both much-missed US classics from Liz’s tremendously tasty kitchen and off-the-grill Colombian specialties from the oddest restaurant I may ever see), visiting their favorite destinations in the city, catching up on US American cinema, and hanging out with their ultra-adorable, packed-full-of-personality poochie: Tom (Hullo, Tom!!!).

This time spent in Bogota afforded us a much-needed, much-appreciated respite from the strains of traveling so rapidly over the last few months. It was a paradise for us, honestly. Daniel and I attempted, on several occasions, to tell them how much we love the time we are so fiercely fortunate to spend with them, how indulgently lovely it to know them and call them friends, and how admirable they are as a family, and as individual humans. It goes without saying that for people like that, in times like that, words fall short.

Sadly, it was painfully gorgeous and wondrously captivating, doing little to satisfy a thirst to see such a remarkable and uniquely fascinating place (home to rivers that tumble over rocks in the jungle in the stripes of a rainbow (seriously, google it), lands that look like a world forgotten, animals that are found nowhere else, and ecosystems ranging from jagged, snow-capped peaks, dense, lush forests, pristine coastline, to Amazonian rivers).

As a substitute for not actually traveling to such stunning locations ourselves, the film will have to suffice until Colombia calms down a bit.

Our second effort included a little time outside of Bogota. While for the most part we remained within the city limits, Daniel has dear friends that we refused to leave the country without visiting, and after so much urban time, we were ready for a little trip to the countryside.

Finding ourselves in Pereira, and the very special lands around it (including the Salento, home of one of Colombia’s many prized botanical features, the world’s tallest species of palm tree) was a treat, filled with small rural villages splattered in brightly colored homes, enormously (and deliciously) gluttonous plates heaping with meat from the local grills, and tastes of authentic, expertly-crafted Colombian coffee in the far hills.

The best part, however, as can be expected, were the people who housed us while we were there. ​

Two very lively and lovely ladies tossed us in their car and took us touring across the surrounding cerros. There was so much fun and laughter, Juanita and (Super) Luchi both were warm-hearted, high-energy, and happy to make sure that I got my fill of food (which is hard to find for me!). We even had a chance to quickly see, Daniel (Juanita’s brother).

 We also found, with Juanita’s gracious help, a family nearby who was willing to invite us in for an interview, where we sat in a poshly decorated living room (complete with a spiral staircase to the next floor and strikingly colored wall-paint) and talked to young Nicolas and Sofia about their Christmas traditions, their favorite foods, and their dreams (Nicolas especially has a wildly active imagination that could serve him well!). 

Again avoiding ruffians in the woods, we hopped a plane (fortunately a great deal!) and flew South one more time. Ecuador was a gem in many ways. Starting in the capital of Quito, we ventured into truly beautiful streets in the tops of the mountains. The air was cool, but the sun was so close (and the atmosphere so thin) that we could feel the beams prickling our skin. 

For the sake of background, Daniel faced his one and only forced robbery in Quito, lifting from him his camera, his passport, wallet and backpack. It was with a fair amount of apprehension that he returned to the scene of the crime five years later, but return he did! Strangely enough, it had happened in the middle of the downtown area, on a bright, sunny street one block from the main plaza.

It was really a neat thing, to hear Daniel talk about his country with a kind of pride and knowledge that was respectable and engrossing. Daniel: Thank you so much for sharing what you did! And say hello to fluffy Puscyk for us. ​

Coming from the lofty mountains and volcanoes of Quito to the seaside of Guayaquil was a really remarkable ride through wet rain forests and steep-edged ravines with winding, white-water rivers lining the bottom. It was so terribly beautiful, and I tragically have nothing to show for it.

Ironically, like Daniel before me, all of the images I captured for all of Ecuador are likely gone forever, by a turn of bad luck. I was so devastatingly upset, going from bus station to office trying to discover if any Good Samaritan had returned my treasure.

So you will regrettably see no images of mine from this really awe-inspiring place. It was so photogenic, honestly one of my visual favorites of the entire trip thus far, and I was quite heart-broken to learn that the memory card was no longer with us…

Ecuador and Colombia both were countries that just had FAR too much to offer than we managed to experience in our short time there. Traveling so fast and so far has so many downsides (high stress, so many goodbyes, missed opportunities, and a more expensive price-tag being only a few) but the people we meet and the things we see really make it all worthwhile, in my mind.

It can be SO HARD at times (truly the most trying events of my life have happened on the road, situations that shake my grasp of self and reality, circumstances that threaten to unwind who I am to my core) but that’s the cost of learning, sometimes. One of our last days in Guayaquil, following certain events, was deeply steeped with personal, disturbing anguish, and painful realizations of myself. While combing my memories, I can recall few events that were as gravitatingly powerful and hurtful as it was. But any pain we feel, any discomfort we have, and any trial we face, it can all be used for betterment and growth, if we are wise and willing and open. ​

After all, it is a New Year, isn’t it? How are YOU going to live it differently?

As mentioned, we have a promotional video for you to see at the fund raising site for our mission! Credit to James Cashman!

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! ​

Like the photography?
​
There is more to see than a post has room for!

​Click the links to take a gander at our internal gallery and Instagram! 
LOVE it? Visit Daniel's store here!

October, 2015 ​- I hope that today we can look into our past, remembering the hardships and blessings of our lives. Tragedy may strike, it's quite a guarantee, but we mustn't underestimate the power we have to overcome and grow from the disasters we may face within ourselves or in the nations at large.

You can choose your words, your actions, your paths. 

​Choose well.

​Considering all countries we’ve thus far visited, Daniel and I agree that the top of our “Must Return” list is our fabulous, fun-filled neighbor-to-the-South: Mexico.

This country is quite under appreciated…

Where most visitors to the Land of Tacos would beeline to the beach in Cancun or Puerto Vallarta, we quickly paid our dues to coastal sun and then headed inland, spending a few weeks in Cuidad de Mexico, Queretaro, Guanajuato, and Morelia before heading to América del Sur.

There are three things that I generally appreciate about a country: the People, the Land, and the Food.

Each of these were stellar and incredibly impactful, leaving me with no fear of exaggerating the level of Awesome this place holds. ​

Mexico City, Districto Federal's (DF) historic downtown, which flaunts romantic Juliet balconies and street after street of stonework, abuts the modern business district, whose skyscrapers, sculptures, and shimmering glass towers form the impressive Paseo de las Reforma, which is adjacent to the lively party sector, thriving artisanal restaurants and nightclubs that thump into the night. Each portion was so pulsing with its own kind of blood that it felt like spending time with a larger-than-life friend. On top of that, Mexico City holds the title as the 6th largest metropolitan area in the world at an official population of 21,178, 959 as of 2015. 

This, truly, is a Great City. One that I plan to explore more fully in the future, should circumstance allow. We sacrificed for years to make this trip possible, and I have no promise that we will see this happen again, without help. We worked hard to make worthwhile our short time here (see our How to Help page and see how even a little goes a long way). 

We were lucky with our city-guide and friend, a perceptive and astute well-informed nomad named David, who enriched the entire experience with his knowledge, good humor, and generosity. 

The family we visited proved to follow suit, inhabiting a stylistically intriguing home that reflected our host Jorge’s clear penchant for beauty. We enjoyed volcanes and fondue, and SO MANY laughs. And when work and school called the family away, our canine buddy Ron was ready to lend a hilariously loyal hand to our enjoyment!

We sped off to Guanajuato, by way of San Miguel Allende, and suddenly found ourselves immersed in a truly stunning city riddled with underground tunnels of what had once been a hidden river.

Our last stop before departure found us in Morelia, whose gilded, bare-stone city center is set upon the ratios of the Golden Rectangle.

Surely one of the greatest highlights of our time in this fantastic country was the opportunity to accept charge for one day at a local middle school.

​We were given seven classes to speak about education, dreams, and following your passions towards hopeful happiness. ​​

While we were there, the students were preparing their altars for the annual celebration of the aforementioned Day of the Dead (El Dia de los Muertos). This holiday (which takes place early November) offers such a neat perspective on death. Every November, families gather together and cook for their passed friends and relatives.

Some families spend WEEKS prior to the date preparing for their loved ones' visit. Last minute touches included cooking piles of food (specifically the favorites of the dead) and hauling bales of marigolds into the cemetery.

Now, let us take a minute to pay homage to some of the best cuisine I have tasted up to this point.... (NOTE: Liz Bennett's kitchen aside...)

But, as usual, the friends we made here also made our trip worthwhile… 

We house-hopped amongst an entire family in Morelia. Each member embodied the very essence of generosity and kindness. We were told later that the elders of this family rarely open up to strangers, but in no time we found ourselves being proffered literally more food than we could physically eat, and being shown the countryside and outlying cities by these wonderful and fun-loving people. 

Our time with them included side-stretching laughter, and full-bellied meals, heart-felt tears, and soul-warming friendship… 

Our Mexican friends, so truly giving, so inspiringly soulful, so passionately loving, were some of the hardest to say good-bye to. It almost physically hurt to raise our arms in farewell waves. I feel so grateful, so unworthy, and so impressed by these incredible and quietly powerful people, who opened my heart with their open arms. 

My thanks and sincere awe goes out to you, David, for your tender heart, your beautiful soul, your astute and marvelous mind, and your genuine embraces (both physical and spiritual). 

To you, Jorge, Gabriel, Alex, Felipe, and Hamlet (descanse en paz), for your flexibility and conversation.

To you, Tania, for your trust and your charm.

To you, Jorge, Laura, Jorge Jr, Andrea (and especially Ron!), for your love of life and infectious energy.

To you, Mariana, for your wicked dance moves and free-spirited attitude…and time with Soma.

To you, Mr. Chuck, for your instant companionship and co-teacher status.

October, 2015 -

We are going to get off the travel path, and get a little real, here...

This post started as a personal letter, then was edited, and now published.

​Perhaps many of you will understand, appreciate, or empathize with what follows (both in words and the many thematically-related black-and-white photographs that accompany them).

Perhaps it will just be confusing or agitating, instead. But I write because these impressions felt, in the moment, like a version of truth worth sharing. That is not to say it is the only truth, or even a verifiable part of it. But I Felt it, and now I'm Sharing it.

In terms of exposure to new experiences, but internally and in the world, this is an incomparable experience to anything else I've done.

As mentioned, one of the most reliably impactful pieces has indeed been the people, who can singlehandedly destroy or restore one's faith in humanity. ​

The emotional roller coaster is becoming run-of-the-mill. D and I certainly are learning quite a bit about each other. Something's are very uncomfortable to learn, and others are pleasant surprises. All in all, like most things in life, it seems that the value of our spent time will wind up being whatever a traveler chooses to make of it. ​

Some of said things that go not-so-well are almost entirely within myself. Mostly in my effort to escape inauthenticity and explore my emotionality. It doesn't happen all the time, but frequently I forgo patience and courtesy, instead opting for bitterness and resentment, allowing myself the liberty of feeling the primary emotion. I push myself less and less to be socialable, and lean even more into my introverted tendencies, conserving more and more energy for myself and avoiding exertive efforts in the name of easing concerns and difficulties.

​It may not be wholly "evil," but I'm not sure how to healthily manage it. That's something that I'd like to continue with experimenting and learning.

​It's a bit frightening, walking this path. Being authentic takes bravery, especially after a life of careful character-crafting that had people believing you're a certain kind of person. Revoking that image, and replacing it with another (especially a far less attractive one) is scary, and often painful.

​I expect it's also worth it, but I could be wrong...​

 I can feel so stubborn, so mean, and so deconstructively cyclical at times, but a very powerful part of me is holding fast to a mentality of pushing through pain to find the truth, which, as a by-product, can sabotage some intimacy with others in the process.

I'll admit that I often do find myself wishing that I would just give up, and re-adopt the people-pleasing, approval-starved, happy-go-lucky facade that I had practiced for so long in my past, replacing what now feels like a dangerously partial version of realness for my previously pleasant self.

​I'm not sure what to do.... Go against "the real me" and keep pretending, like I did when I was younger? Or to prod deeper into myself and see what I'm "really" like, even if it hurts? ​

Some would say this is all unnecessary... It is typical to spend the first twenty years of a life being ingrained and conditioned to "be nice" and follow the acclaimed laws of courtesy. But is it really better to be comforted by lies than shaken by the truth? Is it best (which is different than preferable) to be coddled by courtesy than awakened by fact? More specifically, is self-delusion not just more comfortable, but is it better ​than self-realization?

As mentioned, we have a promotional video for you to see at the fund raising site for our mission!

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! 

Before anything else, we have a promotional video for you to see! Made by the amazing James Cashman. Thank you!

Take three minutes to take a quick look at the fund raising site for our mission!

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! 

Love and cross-country hugs,
​T&D

October, 2015 ​- ​At this junction in Central America (namely our Honduran exodus) our planned hosts sadly went silent in El Salvador. While we were able to reach them later on, our lacking accommodations at the time (and even greater lacking in funding) left us only cruising through the small, coastal nation to avoid room renting.

What a pity, because so many aspects of it were so intriguing to me.

It was a such a highly-charged and zany place, flowing with a barely harmonized pace and chaotic rhythm that it seemed really to fall to pieces any  minute.

Most of the buildings seemed as quick to crumble as everything else. ​

We stopped in the capital for a few hours, exploring parts of downtown and grabbing local eats. ​

But as we rushed back to the bus station, pupusas in hand, it became apparent that these people have found a kind of strange functionality in what at first glance looked a bit like madness.

The self-servedness of the individual adds to the odd, semi-functional system of the city.
​
I wanted to explore more, and I imagine this is what many Asian cities will be like, especially India.

​I guess I'll have to stave my fix and wait for Mumbai! 

As we left El Salvador and entered Guatemala City, I noticed how surprisingly sparkly and developed it was. The sometimes cosmopolitan air meant that our eventual introduction to Antigua's World Heritage status (including textbook examples of ​barroco antigueño architectural style) was in stark contrast to the shining skyscrapers and shimmering shopping malls we would leave behind.

Antigua is adorably nestled in a fertile valley bed between hills and volcanoes, which is actually a bit earthquake prone (although the barroco antigueño structures are designed to be resistant to the rumblings). The geographic location combined with the protected cultural architecture makes the city a terribly popular foreigner destination. It's tourist-saturated, which tarnishes the authenticity a bit and sometimes turns the town into a theme park, but it's worthwhile nonetheless, especially at night when the the sky turns to dark velvet and the streets illuminate with lights and shops and jovially night-shrouded, laughing faces.

We didn't have a host family right away, but did have a few leads. As such, we shacked up in a hostel to wait (NOT my first choice of housing, particularly when I'm just sure that somewhere there's is a beautiful, local family who would love to share stories with two travelers)... but our generous Hostel owner (also a couchsurfer) did donate a free night for our cause. Muchas gracias to the Three Monkeys Hostel!

In the meantime, a cheap hostel can also come with perks. One of these advantages took the form of an isolated roof terrace, which granted a quiet, cozy sit-down and lovely view of the techo-topped town with white-washed steeples on each home, back dropped by the green mountains beyond.

Daniel and I would head up to the top story and escape the party-centric lifestyles of fellow hostelers. We would munch our artisan pastries from the panaderia down the road and sip honey-sweet teas with the neighborhood kitty (whom I named Raindrop) while sun-soaking, talking logistics for the expedition, and generally taking in the historic views.

While up there, we wound up having a few unexpected lessons on communication, something that I thought I had a certain amount of skill in. Turns out, people are different, how we think and express ourselves is different. Wait, WHAT?!?!? "No way," you say????????

Anyway, we spent time working out priorities and giving each other (and ourselves) the chance to be heard and to listen to what is important for the other, for ourselves, and for the expedition. It was uncomfortable, at times, to work out kinks and sacrifice your dignity for mutual understanding, but I think we were able to both find opportunities to learn and grow and be a little better for each other.

I also learned a fantastic Spanish verb: Callejoniendo. It means "meandering small streets and alleyways." I love that there is a word out there describing one of my favorite activities! 

There were definitely a few notables to be witnessed while we were "callejonieno." Buildings are held to a certain code to outline how they appear, helping to preserve the World Heritage standards and keep some history intact. 

The walls were almost always painted in bright, bold colors. I happened upon a wall where the chipped layers exposed the various chromatic preferences of owners past. 

I positively ADORED the small details found on every cobble-stoned street, especially the myriad of door knockers fixed to ancient wood front doors, each wearing the age of passing years.

​The city seems determined to be admired.

One early morning (early enough that Daniel wasn't sure he wanted to up-n-at-em at the hour) we summited one of the surrounding slopes to watch the dawn break over the valley. An impressive, stone crucifix adorns the hillside and watches the city sleep, while the great wrinkles of the mountain's feet housed the homes of hill-dwellers.

The walk back from the viewpoint revealed a couple of old ladies along the side of the road. One woman seemed pleasant enough, but the other looked like she really had something to be upset about!

By the end of our stay, we wound up incredibly fortunate in finding a family to interview. A friend of Daniel's introduced us to wonderful, remarkable family in the residential district of town.

The three children were so insightful and wise, providing astute and well-rounded responses to questions about life and purpose and priorities. Living in a town so entrenched in tourism, steeping in international visitors, has given them opportunities to expand their worldviews, and to cultivate perspective and clarity. Where most families in Central America we met with had dreams that rarely left their geographic region, these kids had dreams of the world, in art and philanthropy. Their ideologies on respect and kindness and gratitude were inspiring. 

The first was Semuc Champey, a stunning river and waterfall destination in the middle of the northern rain forests.

They didn't even require a entry fee, and merely requested a donation to support their liberty. They had sale stands outside the entrance to offer food and goods, and had a few men posted throughout the park to make sure the location was respected. It seemed well-conceived and effectively run. I especially appreciated seeing so many native faces enjoying the waters making use of the natural scape along with paler travelers.

Daniel and I also found a nice, shady spot to plop our feet in the water and let the small fish and coolly refreshing river do their business... After hard travel for weeks on end, they could really use some attention! The fish nibble at the dead skin (there was plenty to gobble down) and tickled our toes while we relaxed in the waterside glade.

Many young, indigenous boys splashed freely and wrestled jovially in waters that once only saw tourist attendees. One in particular was preciously shy, and a little afraid to swim. He was my favorite.... 

Our leave-taking from the national park lead us through more indigenous villages and Guatemalan highlands. They were beautiful, both the densely misted mountains and the faces of those who call them home.

Belize was such a treat... An interesting and enjoyable departure from traditional, Central American culture (Belize is like a Caribbean island that decided to go coastal) and it was the home of a family we met with and interviewed who owns a conch diving business. For weeks at a time, these men are unceasingly out at sea, free-diving to high-pressure depths and hand-grabbing the nautical shells from the sea bed as their cash crop.

The crew is run by the patriarch, a 72 year-old legend who still outperforms his younger proteges. 

We were fortunate enough to have explored the surrounding waters, facing a full-grown moray eel, sting rays, and sharks. Swimming through the now-coraled remains of a shipwreck and peeking into underwater caves had me feeling like the l was the little merman.

As we prepared for departure from Belize and entry into Mexico, there are just so many things to be so grateful for, here. So many people to thank and wonders to see: Juan Manuel, Rosamari, Gabi, Miguel, Sofi, Jeff & Debi Millet, David, Kathy and Char, all of whom were instrumental in our success thus far.

It can be so frightfully difficult, at times, for so many reasons. Even so, troubles, challenges, and pains aside, we plan to make it worthwhile for more than just ourselves.

September/October, 2015 ​- No, it's not really a recognized nation. But every once in a while we will toss in a few Combo Countries! Depending on housing opportunities and available families, we extend or shrink our one-week stays in various places to best accommodate our meager budget and gracious hosts. 

First Combo Country on the list: Nicarduras!

We are highlighting two very distinct slices of Nicaragua. The first is the fantastically isolated and delightful twincano island of Ometepe in the waters of Lake Nicaragua.

Two volcanoes sprouted from the waves and now share a surface that hosts about 30,000 people on it's 18x7ish mile face. The ecology is fascinating (jaw-droppingly so) and the people are shy, even beautifully cautious (perhaps this timidity comes from literally living in the dual shadows of two disaster machines?). ​

The people have learned to live and love the unique land, here, and make the most of the evacuation-at-any-moment location.

Having only just left the raw and rugged Costa Rican Corcovado (for those who missed that log entry, click here!) I felt like I had my trail legs well primed for the climb.

In actuality, I'm lucky to have had the chance to strengthen my stems before giving Ometepe a go.

This volcano takes WORK.

Similar to Corcovado, there aren't really paths; just steep, slimy, rain-slicked stones scattered (where you're lucky...) on the densely forested mountainside.

​The way demanded strength, balance, care, skill, and no small amount of courage to scramble up cliffs and plow through unyielding jungle.

What was initially tall-standing trees then gorgeously gave way to convoluted, gnarly forms draped in moss a foot thick and fern fronds the size of my face...

Fog-shrouded heavens hovered above boughs whose bark darkly glistened beneath the shimmering, green curls of fernery and moss.
​Rain-soaked soil sucked at the soles of our shoes (we saw several discarded pairs claimed by the terrain while we walked).

We wandered the woodlands without any indicators that we were approaching the lake except that we were continually walking UP. ​

Long story short, we never found the lake, but the scenery was more than enough to reimburse our efforts. And the discovery of a toad that would have trouble fitting on a full-sized dinner plate... Seriously. 

Eventually the land turned downwards, and we found ourselves once again amongst upright trees and familiar grasses. 

Leaving the island gave me the feeling that this was place worth returning to, especially considering that one of the world's "super-power's" plans to destroy this remarkable place and drill a new canal to compete with Panama (read this article, for more information). Yes, economic advantages may be made more available, but at what cost? 

This place is uniquely it's own, and irrefutably irreplaceable.

​Life is hard for them, but it rewards them richly, in ways that many others might not understand. I was grateful for the chance to see that, and a bit disappointed in myself for being so caught up in the details of my life that, when viewed from a volcano's peak, seem to matter very little. ​

Sadly, you can also sense the weight people carry from the burden of tourism. Unlike country folk, distance maintained between foreigners and locals that is created by mistrust and financial aim rather than coyness or respect. 

Visitors from other countries rarely venture into this part of Granada, sticking to the safer streets of the lovelier downtown district where much celebrated colonial designs prevail.

Our stop here was primarily a transit point, but I'm glad we were gifted to glean an understanding of another section of the country that broadened our conception of Nicaragua and it's people.

Flash forward to Honduras, where we were shuttled through Tegucigalpa and then dropped our bags in the gorgeous countryside of the tiny town, Zambrano. 

​It was so refreshing to return back to the rural communities.

Here, our gratitude belongs to Jorge, our incredible, kind, loving, FABULOUS cook of a host who resides in truly the most beautiful home I've ever been in.

For me, Jorge's fantastical, Franciscan estate, Caserio Valuz (click for website) has come to signify an oasis of beauty and friendship in Honduras.

Owner Jorge has managed to create in his home a haven of lovliness and beautiful sentimentality. It's rare that a brick and mortar structure should take on an emotionality that transcends matter, but he has managed to do so. This place has a kind of magic about it, and I frequently found myself just staring at the authentically stunning decor and painstakingly immaculate architecture.

It was with Jorge's magnetic personality that we were granted entry into the homes of the lovely local people. The families we visited were so patient with two gringo guys asking weird questions and fumbling basic Spanish, but we all made tortillas together, sampled freshly grown, ground, and brewed coffee, and talked about the honeybee business in the region.

Hondurans and Nicaraguans gave me a new means to understand generosity and openness. I loved meeting with women who have seen the world age for eighty years, and discuss the future with children who don't yet know that they ARE the future. 

Where mine was so complicated and superficial and driven by social pressures, these folks are driven by their families' basic needs, and work together to keep their villages from falling to poor crop seasons or bad business deals. Sure, they have their share of squabbles and silly social stigmas, but there's a simplicity here that breathes like the mountain air the village rests within.