Lauren finally made it to the villlage and here are more words from her:

The village is beautiful. It lies in a valley surrounded by gorgeous mountains. There are palm trees and all kinds of beautiful plant life, and a beautiful river that runs through the center. Sometimes when it’s not raining in the afternoon I go swim in it. It is so far from the nearest town. Roughly 11 hours through the mountains by car to reach it. The houses are made mainly of wood, some leaf parts, some rock, and a few (like the school and the teachers house) have tin roofs. They are quite simple and without electricity. So everyone’s schedule goes mainly by the suns, which I like. There is however electricity at the school and at the teachers’ house. We have some pretty powerful solar panels that keep us going through the night. We have cold showers (thanks to the river.) and a small gas stove if we were to want to cook something. I really only ever cook breakfast (an egg, or some avena (oatmeal)) and sometimes on Sundays, because we are actually given a family to eat all of our meals with each week. It is a family of one of the students at the school. But since I like to run and work out a bit in the morning, I usually don’t go. The food is pretty basic. Every meal has tortillas made of corn, not flour. All of the indigenous women (it’s a village) are constantly making them. Some of them have tried to show me but it’s much more difficult than it looks. So anyway, tortillas and usually beans is all. Sometimes potatoes. Meat is rare, luckily for me. I’ve really grown to love the food, and prefer tortillas to bread. Usually drinks are coffee (actually more like hot sugar water with a little coffee for coloring) or a thick sweeter (sometimes) drink made of corn. The families are all nice, the women are more reserved, all tribal though so they still wear traditional clothing. Actually one family dressed me up like an ixil woman. It was quite hot and uncomfortable, but we all got a good laugh. There are also 24 different Mayan type languages, and those are primary for the families, not Spanish (which is taught as secondary in primary school.) Everyone is friendly, but of course they all stare. A gringo is a rare sight around these parts and only because they volunteer up at the school. In fact, they all gather when I run if it’s late in the day, because they have no idea why the heck I would be running back and forth for fun. It kind of puts that into perspective. Every day I wake up at 6. I run. Push ups sit-ups. Cold shower. And breakfast. I have to be at the school by 7:30 for the teachers’ devotional time. Class starts at 8. I teach 4 classes, 3 different levels. Ages range from 12-20 (one of my students is married, with a child). There are significantly less females than males. I teach all English, but it’s difficult because I’ve never taught before. And the books are awful. And there’s not even a teachers manual. And to speak a language and to be able to teach it are completely different. And I’ve not even taught before. But I’ve really grown to appreciate teachers, especially good ones. It’s such hard work. Because I want to be good. I want them to have fun and learn and be able to take it farther than the exam. But I also want their respect. That is completely vital. But the kids are amazing. They are so respectful and pure and lighthearted and actually want to learn. For them this is a privilege. I’ve fallen completely in love with them, and this place. They call me “seno” (short for senorita lorena.. my name down here.) we have a break at 1 and I have lunch with a family. I have to be back at school by 3 so I use that time to lay in the hammock and write or read or plan more lessons. Sometimes swim. At 3 I take care of some email stuff, plan more classes, study more, read more, and help out around school. I usually also play futbol or basketball with the boys (the girls never play.) sometimes I’ll play guitar for them, and since there’s no music in the village they love it. I played them an acoustic version of outkast’s “hey ya” and we had such a blast. Apparently one of them knew what “shake it” meant, and proceeded to do so. By 7 I leave school to walk to another family’s house for dinner. Everywhere is walking here. In rain boots because it rains many times each day. And I wear skirts all the time, its commonplace. I finally make it home by 8pm. I change, put on more bug spray, grade, read, study, write and drink tea. I live with 4 other female teachers. 2 from Guatemala, 1 from Holland, 1 from Germany. I’m really learning responsibility. I have to coexist with 4 other women so it’s not easy. We each have chores for the whole house. I wash my own dishes (by hand). I do my own laundry (by hand, which ends up being a 3 day process with lots of scrubbing.) I have to get my own butt out of bed in the morning, and if I want more time, I have to get up even earlier. No one is going to come in and wake me. Needless to say, sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes I do feel homesick. Or like the isolation is too much. But when I really get right down to it, I’ve never been happier. And every single day, I know myself a little better. And I feel more and more like I am finding out truly how I should measure success in life. Because there is something to be said about finding contentment in solitude. Something to be said about making your own happiness. Something to be said about simplicity. And I have realized how much I have to learn; from this work, this village, these kids, the world, myself, and life. And the amazing thing is that it doesn’t just stop. I will need to constantly evaluate and re-evaluate myself over and over to ever get anywhere. To ever grow. And that is a beautiful thing. And I feel so much more like I appreciate my life- the people I care about, the knowledge I have, the opportunities that are present. But there is still so much that I take for granted. And therein lies my journey ahead.