Topic of Angels

by Michael Scott (Canada)

I didn't expect to find Guatemala

As my sunlit feet hung over the edge of a stunted gurney, the ambulance maneuvered through what I could only view to be crowns of dilapidated buildings. Handcuffed with illness, I was restricted from stepping foot outside the property due to a tremendous debt incurred from the past twelve days and these problems had not escaped me. Sandals aloof and my pain threshold waning, I dared not move an inch on route to Antigua. Resting on my cot sat a package that had been opened by military guard and the hospice policy of examining all correspondence was in full effect. Nakedly available sat a few comforts from Jimena; soda, chocolate and other snack food from the local bodega, which was kitty courner to the hostel which accommodated my luggage. As the unsympathetic remedies of antibiotics and painkillers robbed moisture from my maws, I cracked open a soda to satisfy my need for liquids. Mid-sip, an irrefutable cellular buzz erupted in my pocket with a Canadian Consulate update of my release from this perdition. It cannot be stated strongly enough that an absurd meticulousness while ratifying travel insurance is an educational lesson that should be avoided the hard way. Although not a religious man, it seemed that the grace of a higher power consecrated the negotiation of a $7000 charge down to $4000; dues my family was able to secure, thus granting my exit. Jimena arrived after I sent word of my release and gradually drove through fissure ridden motorways back to the hostel. Out of the fire from the pan, I felt as if I was lingering somewhere amidst the stove top and the edge of the world, having to now pass 3 blood examinations to be cleared to fly. Deep Vein Thrombosis raises grave health concerns 20,000 feet in the air and the clinical diagnosis of a clot that ran from my ankle to my groin alluded to zero chances to be taken. Insult to injury, the medication was not cheap and the coffers of home were now empty from the invoice. The morning of my final examination broke blue as sapphire as I hailed a tuk-tuk to the hospice while Volcán de Fuego vented columns of ash into the air as carnival for the day. With compassionate eyes and a smile that communicated likewise, the nurse drew invaluable vials which held my ticket home. Amidst the plethora of medical jargon in Spanish, we held our native tongues quiet, for these silent epochs were treasured moments for me. As soon as I returned to the under vined lattice of the hostels shaded patio, I instantly fell unconscious from the pain, slipping into further darkness. The sound of tropical faunas and an immense thirst woke me, throttling me into a spinning hangover of confusion and physical sickness from my depressions. Choreographing my route down the ladder off the roof, I sauntered by the front desk the following morning and was met with the look of no correspondence from Jimena. So I kept walking, out the door and straight to the store for something stronger than water; rum. Bottles clinking as I passed the front desk with no call to flight, I approached my bunk and I noticed a small chocolate on top of a business card which read: “Good news, you can fly back home!!" Eyes full of tears, Jimena met me with open arms as I collapsed into her embrace, nearly toppling us both to the floor. Piecing myself together from my unravelling, I aimed to settle my bill I had incurred over the weeks I was ill ($400). As I pulled the last of the indispensable cash out of my pocket, coins included, Jimena met my hand half-way and pressed the money to my chest. “Guatemala had not been kind” she mouthed softly and to consider my stay as a gift for the tremendous torment my family and I had been through; my angel. Guatemala is indeed recognized for adventure, deep enjoyment and solemn lessons to be learned. But I didn’t expect to find such human compassion and kindness from a stranger, through my misfortunate wistfulness of home, health and safety. And for these blessings, I am thankful.