The ruins were amassing I hope the internet here is good enough to upload pictures otherwise you will just have to wait patiently, to see this, the eight wonder of the world. We had a local guide to show us the ruins and he was great he was indigenes and he had great tales to tell. For example had his father helped at a excavation, the archeologists didn’t find the tome and after more than a year they were out of funding and still they hadn’t found the main tome whit the remains is of the king. So out of pure frustration they asked our guide’s father, because he were Mayan were he thought the tome wound be located. He said he couldn’t be sure but he would try digging here. Of cause they found the tome and later at another excavation he was summoned because one of the archeologists had heard of this amazing Mayan archeologist who would just know where the tome would be. Again he pinpointed the location of the tome within twenty centimeters; in this tome they discovered what would become famous burial mask of jade. The entire story made it the National Geographic so our guide’s father is quite a legend.

Spanish Camp was great but all good things come to an end, but during the last week in Xela we came together several times for a night in town and to hear the Buena Vista Social Club playing in a local hotel that was a night to remember.  It felt like all gringos in town were there, after the first band had played people started spontaneously to move the stools to make room to dance some salsa. What a night.

At our graduation the last Friday we were there Stine and I tried and failed in the great art of cooking reispudding, it went well until we should add the cream, we shouldn’t have done that it was some different kind of cream and let’s say it nicely it didn’t work but it was eaten all of it at the dinner, that I was proud of. It was expected of us to say a few words or to perform a little something a our graduation and of cause I thanked the teachers and the school for my four great weeks there and I meant every word it really was a great school and I have every intention of returning some day to study for at least another month. I still need that though I do not feel that bad at Spanish I just lack the words. I sang tree verses of the Danish song “Something about heroes” by Halfdan Rasmussen and translated it in to Spanish I felt like crying and I don’t know if it was the song or the fact that I was leaving, I didn’t cry though.  

Linda had decided to stay for another month at Projecto Lingustico so I was to travel all by myself to Santa Elena de Uerien. Linda and I agreed that I would be nice to travel separate ways and to travel alone. Not that we do not like each other’s company, but I would also like to feel a little independent. Anyway Linda admitted she was glad that a new Danish girl showed up and actually was about to join the school and the volunteering in Venezuela. So she and Linda will join me down here after a month.

However now begins the exiting part where I disobey all the mayor rules for traveling in South America.

I left Xela at nine thirty Saturday morning on a bus for Guatemala City, and all I had planed was my flying tickets. I still had problems with my stomach and was taking heavy medication so for the whole day I only ate four pieces of toasted bread and drank a lot of water. When I arrived in Guatemala City I met a local I knew at the bus terminal he works  there and he helped me get a safe cab to Spring hotel where I luckily were able to get a room. I didn’t sleep mush because I had to get up at 5 to get to the airport in time. No problems in the airport luckily so after five hours in to different airplanes I found myself in an airport outside Caracas. I took the Official bus to the main square I Caracas and from there I don’t know what I was thinking I took a unofficial taxi, pure luck I didn’t got robbed and left in the gutter, to the bus terminal where I couldn’t get a direct bus because it was too late. For about one hour I actually thought about just staying in the terminal until next morning. I actually was stupid enough to ask around if I could sleep in a bus office.  After someone stole my smallest deposit of local currency, what I had in my pocket, I decided that the security guard and the rest of the people I had talked to were right so I took a night bus to Bolivar. That is the second thing you don’t do, you do not travel at night.  After two hours the bus broke down so we had to wait for another to come pick us up fortunately I had met a nice local guy in the bus terminal who were heading in the same direction he had the sweetest little daughter and he advised me just to stay on the bus and go to Tomoreno, and from there get a car to Santa Elena I did that but I must have misunderstood the driver because I only got as far as Clarian and there I was stuck. I only had 25.000 Bolivares and when I asked around, a car ride to Santa Elena was no less than 150.000 Bolivares and they couldn’t change any kind of cash in Clarian. After discovering that, I started to ask around for a bus and the price on that were 35.000 so I felt really small and really alone in this little city for about three hours before the bus arrived, and thanks to whatever god, the driver had mercy on me and brought me to Santa Elena were I arrived late at night without a single Bolivar. So I walked the 3 kilometers into town and got lost, asked for directions and finally found the Hotel Michel and there Omar found me and so about eight a clock I stumbled into the kitchen in Casa Estrella de Sampai.