When I was 10 years old in 1962 my parents and I lived in Anchorage, Alaska. Sometime in January, cabin fever sets in. My parents heard about jobs as supervisors on banana plantations in Ecuador and thought that sounded like a hot idea! They bought a truck camper, piled it full of supplies, got all my schoolbooks for third grade, and we took off.
The Alaska Highway was 1500 miles of dirt road back then, but with the snowpack of mid-winter solidly in place, it drove like brand new asphalt.
We took our time traveling down the West Coast. Washington. Oregon. California. I remember visiting the zoo in San Diego. Then we crossed into Mexico. We learned how to say ‘generator’ in spanish as it needed a lot of repairs! We collected opals at the mine in Querretero; I made several Mexican friends in the campground at Mexico City. I learned the Mexican alphabet from friendly folks on market day in Chichicastenango, Gualtemala.
Unfortunately, my Dad caught malaria while we stayed near Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. Mom had to drive us back to the States where he recovered sufficiently to drive the remainder of the way back to Alaska. The school year was over by the time we got back, but I was able to pass the test to go on to fourth grade because of my Mom’s schooling along the way.
I don’t remember what was covered in third grade, but boy do I remember learning a lot because of our travels thru Mexico and Guatemala in our truck camper.
Submitted by Chris Guld of Anywhere, USA (fulltime RVer) as part of the RV Centennial Celebration” Share Your Favorite RV Memory” contest.
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