Christmas on the Coast

I think I underestimated how much being in class five days a week for five hours a day would exhaust me. I’ve always been a person who loves her naps, but the week leading up to Navidad, I had zero desire to leave my homestay.

Even when I wasn’t actively trying to speak Spanish out loud, my brain just wouldn’t turn off. I’d be walking down the streets trying to translate every conversation I overheard. I was waking up thinking about how to conjugate a particular verb. I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to become fluent far faster than what is realistically possible.

On top of that, the weather in Antigua was just sucking royally. The days were overcast and windy, the temperatures barely reaching 70 — and for me, that is cold. The gray skies and chill (which I was wildly underprepared for) had me looking up flights and Spanish programs in other countries.

Changing Course

I recognized that I needed a break. I needed a holiday from my holiday.

So without thinking twice, I booked a shuttle to the coast for a few days. I booked the bus on Tuesday, secured a bed in a hostel on Wednesday, and left on Thursday. It was probably the least amount of planning I’ve ever done for any sort of trip — and it felt great.

I didn’t really care how I got there or where I was staying, as long as I was going. I also had to look beyond the fact that I’d already prepaid for my homestay and meals for the days I’d be gone — money I was essentially forfeiting. I’d even paid for class on Friday, which I decided to skip.

It was good practice for me: a reminder that it’s not always about money. Sometimes you just need to change course to give yourself a much-needed reset.

Christmas Day on the Coast

So on Christmas Day, I jumped on a shuttle bus bound for El Paredón — the sleepiest little beach town on Guatemala’s Pacific coast. The windows were open for most of the three-hour journey, and it only took about two hours for me to feel the warm air start to creep in.

When we arrived, the sun was beating down hard and the temperature was hovering around 90 degrees. I almost cried tears of joy. When I say that weather absolutely affects and dictates my mood, I am not exaggerating. Days below 75 degrees put me in a funk. I was definitely in the right place.

El Paredón is what I imagine Tulum was like 30 years ago: one main road that runs for about six blocks, with three or four dirt roads branching off toward the beach, lined with a handful of restaurants, cafés, and bars.

Beach Time, No Agenda

I arrived at the hostel and immediately felt in my element — hammocks, fresh coconuts, an open-air palapa to sleep in, and a delightful outdoor shower. Not having A/C didn’t bother me one bit. I knew I’d be spending most of the next three days at the beach anyway.

The beaches aren’t the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The water is exactly what you’d expect from the Pacific — but it was warm and clear. Most people come to El Paredón to surf, which I had zero desire to do, but I was more than content sitting on the black sand and watching surfers navigate the massive waves. Also- did i mention that the sun rinses AND sets over the ocean?!

A Place I Didn’t Expect to Love

I had debated whether El Paredón was worth my time. Honestly, if the weather in Antigua hadn’t turned so miserable, I probably wouldn’t have made my way to the Pacific coast at all. There were so many other places in Guatemala I wanted to explore, and I wasn’t sure El Paredón deserved a spot on that list.

And yet — after three days there, I was already trying to figure out when I could return and how long I could stay.

When the Universe Nudges Back

This is where the universe stepped in.

The hostel I chose — one I picked almost at random — was looking for volunteers. The “work” involved checking in guests, keeping the shared kitchen tidy, and answering questions. I talked with the two volunteers already there, and they had nothing but wonderful things to say about their three weeks so far.

I connected with Nico, the owner, and mentioned that I might want to return in March after finishing a Workaway opportunity at Lake Atitlán. He told me it would be no problem at all for me to come back and stay as long as I wanted (with a minimum of two weeks). I even caught wind of a Spanish school in town where I could continue classes.

Once again, when you put something out into the universe, the universe responds.

Loosening the Grip

Sure — a lot can happen in three months. I might stay longer at the lake. Another opportunity could come along that pulls me somewhere else entirely. But the ease with which these connections keep forming reminds me, over and over again, that I really don’t have much to worry about.

I wasn’t quite ready to return to Antigua when Sunday afternoon rolled around, but I felt genuinely refreshed after giving myself permission to pause. And gracias a Dios, I seemed to bring the sun and warmth back with me.

I’m just as committed to my Spanish studies as ever — maybe even more so now — and grateful for how things tend to work themselves out when you loosen the grip just a little bit.

-A