In the home stretch of my inaugural departure from normalcy, I had the pleasure of meeting up with two more friends, bringing our total number to four. The final days have been spent on the banks of Atitlan, a beautiful lake west of Antigua in Guatemala.

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After meeting up with Whitney and Danielle, Brett and I decided that we should take them to see the Yoga Forest. Before taking the afternoon class, we took a hike through the jungle to get some views of the lake. Much to my dismay, we encountered two enormous red and black bees (hornets? wasps? robots?). I had behaved relatively well in the presence of my winged foes up until this point. Alas, my stoicism came to an end.

The yoga class was great (as always). It started to rain pretty heavily as we stretched into our pigeon poses, but luckily the precipitation promptly ceased within seconds of our final Namaste. We hopped unscathed through the muddy trail back to our hostel in San Marcos. The next morning, I woke up to a beautiful view.

On June 14th (Brett’s 27th day of birth), we took a water taxi from San Marcos to San Pedro, another town on Lake Atitlan. We were instructed to hoist our large backpacks onto the roof of the boat. As we traversed the lake, our belongings were held in place by nothing but a two-inch lip, friction between our bags and the boat, and hands clasped in prayer. Thankfully, we reached our destination with our luggage in tact. After checking into the Airbnb (complete with two rambunctious pugs), we decided to rent some watercraft.

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After an hour of stand-up paddle-boarding and kayaking, we returned to the Airbnb to play some cards. We were greeted by McKenzie, a girl of roughly five years of age. She was very outgoing, giving Danielle some flowers while she practiced her English. She soon returned bearing more gifts. She had brought each of us a green pepper, which she promptly encouraged us to consume. Danielle politely refused. Good move.

Whitney ate the first one, masticated for a moment, and proceeded to spit out the offending substance. I wasn’t following Whitney’s progression closely, as I was currently being confronted by the five-year-old instigator-in-chief. Feeling bold, I chewed the pepper with conviction. I then promptly removed my glasses, cast off my shirt, and paced in frantic circles in search of a fire department. Eventually, after much hullabaloo, I emerged (somewhat) victorious.

Next up was Brett. In a horrifying attempt at misdirection, he launched the fiery vegetable behind him, apparently thinking that we would believe it had entered his digestive system. Nobody was deceived (McKenzie included). It was embarrassing for everyone involved. Whitney, to his credit, sought a rematch and decided to try his luck with the pepper that Danielle originally refused. I cautioned him that the spice is a sneaky bugger that can creep up unexpected. After my warning, Whitney ate the pepper. Unfazed, he declared victory. Moments after his triumph, his shirt was also off, and he commenced the standard procedure of pacing, emitting strange noises, and being somewhat of a spectacle.

We spent the night celebrating Brett’s birth and engaging in general merriment (including playing heads up seven up for the first time in about two decades…we’re adults?). Today the band splits up as I begin the long process of making my way to the Guatemala City airport, ultimately flying to Seattle to visit my family. It’s been quite a wild ride. I love you Latin America. I’ll be back soon.