Nicaragua North of ManaguaOld women with heads wrapped in bright colored scarfs smile toothless smiles from the backs of pickup trucks. Another woman who is all wrinkles from stem to stern tries to sell me fried goods from the window of my bus. I am riding through the Northern Nicaraguan countryside and the morning sun [...]
Old women with heads wrapped in bright colored scarfs smile toothless smiles from the backs of pickup trucks. Another woman who is all wrinkles from stem to stern tries to sell me fried goods from the window of my bus. I am riding through the Northern Nicaraguan countryside and the morning sun is just coming up over the eastern hills.
Going to the Honduran border. A man who is more beard than man tries to flag down the bus from the side of the road. The driver leaves both him and his flowing white belly length beard in the dust. The big white clouds whisper their approval as they know that the bearded man will just find a seat on another bus, and for us, well, we will just keep rolling on.
Chickens cackle and children play. The day is just beginning. Honduras is on the horizon and ruins of Copan await excavating. I am not too sure how this project at Copan is going to go. There may be large restrictions on what I can write and photograph. I need to be able to write about what I do and observe. This is now how I make up enough money to travel. The archaeology days are through and I will now just work on sites for the fun and enjoyment of it. I do not want archaeology fieldwork to ever be my JOB again. I want to be able to take work on interesting sites for low or no pay, write about it, then travel on. Copan should be interesting, that is for sure. But I can not be gagged. I cannot afford to be gagged.
But the children are still playing and the sun is still rising. Green leaves sparkle green and crisp shrub is burnt crisp. I like the building methods of Central America. Sometimes we ride past concrete slabs that are nothing but slabs. Seems as if they were build and then the builders forgot what for. Maybe they took a break to drink a beer and realized that they liked drinking more than building concrete slabs, and never returned to work. I know how they feel. II too, would rather drink beer than build concrete slabs. Incompletion is one of my favorite states.
Now that I think of it, I leave almost everything incomplete. Maybe this is why I enjoy traveling so much, as it is a task that can never be completed.
As much as I travel I know that there will always be someplace else to travel to. I can never complete this circle.
Going back to dreaming out the window at the Nicaraguan countryside that streches out endlessly beyond.
Wade from Vagabond Journey.com
February 29, 2008