As my feet stand here in the nation of corn fields,

My heart rests in the coffee bean fields that lye upon volcanos.

Waking up to my alarm clock is nothing like hearing Spanish songs

And smelling potatoes for breakfast.

The

Lake view

Sunrise

Hammocks

Worship

Hugs

Strange kisses

Smiling kids with toothless smiles

This is why Guatemala captured my heart.

Any government agency would say I’m from good ol’ Indiana

But my heart says,

“No”

I dwell in the sight of streets full of markets

Hand woven clothes

Boiled bananas

Sugary pop

Cement buildings

Grassless parks

Tuk Tuks

Super Qik

And

Dirty feet.

The sound of rain on tin roofs;

Thirty people singing in a room made of metal.

Nothing feels more beautiful.

My heart speaks in a different language,

My family isn’t all the same color,

And sometimes home is wherever my suitcase is.