People here are very small

I am in Antigua, Guatemala, for the second time.

I had forgotten two things. One is that it is colder here than I remember. This is good because it reminds me of fall and turkey and changing leaves and Thanksgiving and sweaters. The second thing is that people here are very small. All of them. Por lo general, as we say. Most of the women barely reach my chest. It's like some land of little people and their tortillas and colorful clothes.

Traveling alone is interesting. You have freedom to do as you wish and yet it's sort of lonely. So I wander around, doing what I like most to do, just wander. Hemingway wrote "cruise around by yourself and see what happens to you." I think this is good advice. I try to walk as slowly as I can and do as little as possible and just observe things, just take it all in.

Responding to the initial (i first typed "inicial" ... Spanish may have a permanent place in my mind) criticism to the title of this blog: my idea or image was that Dante, the poet, in the Divine Comedy, passes from Inferno (hell) through Purgatorio (purgatory) to Paraiso (heaven). And yet my idea was AFTER all of that what if Dante just wandered around between all the stuff in between? It's sort of how I see my life, wandering through the between. Lost and curious and quiet and patient and slow and impressed by all the between that is between heaven and hell that we call this world.

This will be my journal on the road that is public. The real one is private.
Blog is such a hideous word.