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Back when we spend five weeks weeding on the Stardust Sanctuary Farm, 3 kilometres out of the nearest small village, San Ignacio was our go-to metropolis. Don’t get me wrong, San Ignacio is in no way a big city. Coupled with twin Santa Elena, the city barely has 20.000 inhabitants.

“I was 2 months old when I lost my father. He was killed by the army.” We haven’t yet properly met, only exchanged names and pleasantries when Francisco, our ever-smiling guide, drops a bomb on our path. A muddy path at that, because we have just set off for a

Waking up early, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes while shovelling in your breakfast, flying out of the house just a couple of minutes before eight to sit half a day behind a desk repeating sentences in Spanish. True, these are not the first things that come to mind

15:50 Anete and I sit atop the second highest pre-Columbian structure in the Americas – Temple IV in Tikal, aka the Temple of the Double-Headed Serpent. Our gaze is directed eastwards, where a couple of stone colossi stick their necks out of the jungle. Minutes earlier, we stared a spider

Two pots of water are reaching boiling temperature in a dim hut. Five pairs of eyes are fixated on the pots, waiting hungrily for the first bubbles to emerge. There’s us and there is a Guatemalan family, smiling shyly. The Guatemalan mother opens a spaghetti package, throws its content in