Dad's Visit

Last Thursday I took the bus up to San Pedro Sula to meet Dad at the airport.  Due to the bus schedule, I had some extra time in “Sula” and decided to go to the artisan’s market that they have there.  We used to have one in Ceiba, but the government shut it down with promise to build them a new market in a better part of town….3+ years ago.  It was just like the Mexican markets I have been to and I was so happy to be able to purchase some goodies directly from people who made/painted/built the items. I got some cute little things: a tiny nativity set made out of cornhusks, a pair of earrings, and Christmas gifts for all the nieces and nephews (which seems to be a longer list every year J).

I met dad when his flight arrived and we bought bus tickets to head back down to La Ceiba.  Our bus was supposed to leave at 5:15pm but in Honduran time that might mean anytime up to 6.  Eventually, the man from the ticket counter took us and another lady in his car to the bus station because our bus never showed up.  3 hours later we got to La Ceiba.  We took a taxi to our hotel (which I and the director at my school had called to make reservations) only to be told that not only did they not have our reservation, but also they were full for the night and couldn’t accommodate us.  Bienvenidos a Honduras! 

So, we went across the street to my favorite bar to have a beer while I called other hotels in the area to find an open room.  We ended up at a hostel called Banana Republic Guest House for about $13 (we sprang for a private room as opposed to the dorm) a night.  It was nice, clean and we even had our own private bathroom!  In the morning we got up and got our things together to head to the island of Utila for the weekend.

 

No one warned me how rough the ferry to the island might be.  It was raining that morning (imagine that) and the water was pretty choppy, but the hour long trip proved to be quite a challenge.  We later learned that the ferry has earned the affectionate nickname of “Vomit Comet”.  Thanks for the forewarning, Ceibaños. 

Once on the island we walked on the one main road to find our new hostel and check in.  Again, nice, clean and private bathroom for $17 a night—being the big spenders we are, we opted for a room on the second floor. 

Utila is known as the “backpackers island” and is a great little spot to relax and get away for a little while.  There isn’t a whole lot to do over there, especially in the rain.  We hung out with some locals, ate some good, fresh seafood and listened to some live music.

 

On Sunday morning we boarded the early ferry with hopes for a calmer sea earlier in the day.  The ride back to Ceiba was incredibly smooth and easy in comparison.  This time we were able to stay in our original hotel, where we actually had HOT WATER!!!!  It was incredible!  We walked around town so Dad could see the lovely (totally joking) city of La Ceiba, watched the ravens game L, and then ordered pizza and ate dinner out on the patio of the hotel.

The next morning I took Dad to the La Ceiba airport and sent him on his way back to the good old, USA.  Or so I thought.  He ended up having the trip from Hell-but that’s his story to tell, not mine.

It was so great to have him here and definitely gave me something to look forward to while things were getting rough the week before he came.  Plus, upon his departure I was able to begin my countdown to coming home.  Come on, Saturday!!!

Overdue

First of all, sorry for being so “slack” (hahaha) with my posting lately.  I just didn’t get around to it last week, and then with Dad here for the weekend there were way more important things to do.

Two weekends ago Sarah (from Penn.) and I went zip-lining (can I make that a verb?) through the jungle.  It was RUMPTIOUS! J  It was my first time ever doing a zip-line and it was incredible to be sailing through the jungle, flying over natural hot springs, gorgeous plants and even spotting toucans in the wild.  Our guides, Simón and ________ were great.  They held our cameras and took tons of pictures and really helped make the experience awesome. 

There were a total of 18 lines, the longest one being almost a kilometer long.  We stopped along the way to check out the scenery, the view and the hotsprings at various points.

 

After we finished the course, we were led to one of the hotsprings and were able to float around and relax for a while in the natural hottub.  We were given a plate full of fresh fruit, YES FRUIT, and were even given a mud massage (not from Simón).

From there we went back to Sambo Creek to eat fried conch, fish and calamari at a restaurant on the beach.   We watched some of the local kids doing Punta dancing, the traditional dance style of the Garifuna people.

The next day was rainy and gross so I watched one of the bootleg DVDs I have purchased, relaxed and studied a little bit.  Sarah and I decided that we were ready to get out of the house for a bit, so we went out to eat that night at the only restaurant in town with a salad bar! It might have been the highlight of the weekend to be able to eat vegetables!  Then we wrapped the weekend up with a night at the disco with Josue and his friends.

Music, Tortillas and Rain

Since there was a bigger group at school this week, and the weather was better slightly better, we were able to get out and about a little more.

Thursday afternoon, we went for a hike up into the jungle.  We swam in the river and had a great lazy afternoon just floating in the natural pools and hanging out.  Although it started raining while we were there, the canopy of trees provided a nice shelter from the rain.

This was probably the most relaxing afternoon I have had so far.  It was great to just kick back and enjoy being surrounded by unspoiled nature and the listen to the sound of the waterfall.  Unfortunately, this one wasn't big enough to slide down :)

Sarah, Josue, Me

Thursday night ended up being pretty gross and rainy, but we decided to tough it out and go out for a bit.  We kept it pretty low-key and just went to Ex-Pats to hear the annoying American who butchers great American classics.  Seriously, he's terrible.  I guess he tries to put his own spin on things, which is just not good when you're singing an off key version of Elvis, or Clapton or Skynyrd.  Most of the people here, locals and gringos, seem to like him...I think it's just that they have been out of the US for too long to remember what those songs are actually supposed to sound like, but I keep my opinion to myself.

The whole group

Friday night it POURED. Like Really Poured. So we all went to the school to learn how to make Baleadas.  They are a super common traditional Honduran food, made from a tortilla, refried beans, and a touch of cheese or sour cream-ish stuff, then folded in half and eaten.

finished balls of masa

Josue really wanted to teach us to make the tortillas from scratch the way real Hondurans do, complete with slapping the masa (dough) back and forth between your hands to flatten and shape the tortilla.

I have to admit, I was pretty dang good at that part.  Josue said that made me half Honduran and that it makes up for the half Jorge is lacking.  After cooking we ate LOTS of Baleadas.  Here are some pictures from the night:

My first tortilla-not too shabby

 After we finished eating we headed home to change and get ready to go out because it was the last night in town for 3 of the girls.

Remember how I said it POURED.  Check out how high the water is on my legs.  I am just walking down the middle of the street after the rain subsided. Crazy, huh?!?

We headed to the local Applebees--I know, I know--to listen to the band we had heard last week.  They are a funny group of men who dress up like women, refer to themselves with feminine adjectives and word endings and hit on all the men at the bar.  They are quite amusing and not terrible to listen to.

Amanda, Amanda, Sarah, Me, Jenna

From there we headed downtown, the nightlife doesn't start around here until about midnight and goes until 5am.  I must be getting old, because I can only manage to stay out until about 2 or 3.  We went to a disco because some of the girls wanted to dance.  Pretty similar to American clubs: super loud music, creepy men, girls in skimpy outfits.  Could have been in any city in the states. After a night full of dancing we headed home around 3, in the midst of yet another rainstorm.

This Week's Adventures

Having a day where I am really missing food from home.  The typical food here is pretty bland as a general rule.  Always tortillas and usually rice with whatever we are eating.  We usually eat the same thing every week: a porkchop with a boiled plantain, rice and tortillas, or spaghetti with rice and tortillas, or a chicken soup with rice and tortillas....you get the idea.  I have eaten Corn Flakes for breakfast for the last 26 mornings IN A ROW, and eggs for dinner for the last 26 nights.  I am making a mental list of all the things I cannot wait to eat when I get home-scrapple, vegetables, Thanksgiving dinner, Chicken Jammies, sushi, etc.

Anyway...On to more important things...

The tiny things at the end are all the fishermen

We have had gorgeous weather here for the past few days--NO RAIN, YAY!!!  So our group from school has been out and about at every chance we get in order to take advantage of these days without rain.  On Tuesday we walked around town so the new girls could get a tour of the city.  

Just an up close shot of how bad the pier was

We went to a few places I hadn't seen yet, like the fishing pier.  The pier is old and dilapidated, but still very much in use by the locals.  Always up for an adventure, I decided to walk out the end.  Well, I only got about half way out before I came to my senses and decided I didn't need to go any further.  The view was gorgeous though, the mountains in the distance amidst the clouds, and the outline of Cayos Cochinos (islands) off on the horizon.

Yesterday we took a bus out to a 200 year old Garifuna village called Sambo Creek (a name that would NEVER be acceptable in the states).  The Garifuna people were brought over to Brazil as slaves, but many escaped and came to the coast of Central America.  There are several Garifuna communities on the coast of Honduras, but Sambo Creek is the largest.  There is a pretty significant divide between the spanish speaking Hondurans and the Garifunas, who are dark skinned and the majority of who speak a native Garifuna language.  

Their culture has remained very much in tact and they are known for their cuisine, style of dance and perhaps most highly regarded for their homemade liquor, Guifiti, a moonshine  of sorts that is made with herbs and alcohol and left in the sun for a week before it is ready to be consumed.  There is also a sweet version that is meant to be taken like a tequila shot with sugar and a grapefruit slice--right up my alley!! Well, I figured since I was there I had to give it a whirl....When in Sambo Creek....

It was a great, relaxing afternoon spent napping on the beach, relaxing in a hammock and walking around the village.  There is a lot of neat graffiti art that serves as public service announcements of sorts. Turtles humping and requesting you to wear a condom....a giant baby with a bottle full of Guifiti saying that kids can't drink alcohol.  Really interesting.  

Just before dark we took a bus back into the city, which is always an adventure in itself.  Sometimes you ride the bus with clowns (terrifying-I hate clowns), sometimes with chickens, and sometimes with old people or young kids selling delicious homemade baked goods.  Sadly this ride had none of the usual entertainment, but there was something wrong with the bus that made it squeak and creak at every bump.  Being as the roads in some parts are pretty terrible, the ride felt like a turn on an old wooden amusement part roller coaster; the kind that hurts more than is fun.  But, like I said, always an adventure nonetheless.

La Goma

The Walk 

Yesterday I learned the spanish word for hangover.

It FINALLY stopped raining on Thursday which led to the perfect opportunity to get out and about and enjoy the weather.  We went to el Río María to take in the sights and go for a swim.

The walk was gorgeous.  Tons of banana trees, orange trees, grapefruit, rambután, etc.  And of course, tons of mosquitos.  After a long hike up hill we came to a tiny trail off to the right where Josue announced we were supposed to climb down.  A few hundred meters later we came to our destination.

Me sliding down the waterfall

Gorgeous.  There was a swimming hole, a waterfall and several pools.  We spent the afternoon swimming, climbing and relaxing in the sun.  Josue announced that many of the teens liked to slide down the waterfall.  I was, of course, intrigued.  Josue said that they don't let the gringos slide though, because it is too dangerous.  Naturally, I took that as a challenge.  I watched Josue do it twice then went for it.  He gave me a set of instructions: lean forward so your head doesn't bounce off the rocks, keep your arms in so they don't get caught on the rocks and cut off, and once you start you have to go for it...don't hesitate.  I climbed up and went for it.  What a rush!  I was shaking still when I finished!

We headed home to shower and go out for the night to see a band play at our favorite local bar.  All in all a good day in La Ceiba.

Josue, Me and Sarah at the bar

Just Your Average Tuesday

Tuesday was an incredible day.  I spent the day in Cacao, a quiet, tiny little town on the outskirts of the city.  I have been helping out an American man named Les who is here working on a census type project to try to pinpoint exactly how many children there are in the village, and how many do not go to school for lack of funding.  It costs about $25 US dollars for each kid to go to school-uniform, book bag, supplies.  In an area where $500 is the average annual salary that is a HUGE chunk.

Part of the issue is that there are no stores anywhere close.  People from Cacao have to come down into La Ceiba to go to the pharmacy or any type of store.  The only thing they have are the neighborhood Pulperias, which are tiny corner stores that are overpriced and tend to sell things that are not really needed (beer, tiny toys, Gatorade) but lack in necessary objects (toilet paper, milk, etc.).  The majority of their money is going to these pulperias, unfortunately spent on the beer, etc.)

His ultimate plan is to try to help this town keep more of their resources (mangos, pineapples, avocados, oranges, grapefruit, chile peppers, etc.) in the town and set up a sort of town market where they can buy other items that are not grown/raised in town at fair prices.  Hopefully, providing jobs for some members of the community, and freeing up some money for families to be able to send their children to school.

I have spent a few afternoons helping him translate questions and talking with him about the types of questions to ask about health and school and kids or not to ask (specifically about abortion—which I have been told is not nearly as huge of a legal issue here as in Mexico because, as my Honduran BFF Jorge likes to say, “It’s Honduras, Everything is legal! You can kill any kind of person and it is ok!”

He wanted me to see the town for myself, so Les, Jorge, Juan(an Evangelical Minister and our driver), and I headed out to Cacao. 

Me with the Cacao tree

Our first stop was to hunt down some cacao (cocoa) plants.  I had no idea how it was grown and was really kind of shocked!  I guess I assumed it was grown on the ground like tobacco or something.  What a city girl I am!  We, along with a plethora of mosquitos, found fields and forests and streets lined with cacao trees.  Apparently the pods are poisonous to humans until they are ripe, or so Les had been told.  Jorge to the rescue.  He stealthily hunted down a ripe pod and cracked it open.  Any good Honduran would have used their machete but Jorge doesn’t carry one.  I have taken to giving him a hard time and saying that because he spends too much time with the gringos at school he is only a medio-hondureño at this point.   

The cacao pod opened up

The fun part about the cacao pod is that you can suck the milk white slime off the inner pods.  It is sweet and tart at the same time with a pleasant flavor but a creepy texture.  Les and I were not huge fans so Jorge happily ate the rest.  Inside those little pods are where the seeds are. 

The Bridge

The Lagoon

The next stop on our tour was the lagoon.  Even Jorge put mosquito repellant on at this point (again, medio-hondureño) because we were being eaten alive.  The lagoon, home to crocodiles, lizards, monkeys, crabs, etc., was once used for a British version of Survivor or something similar.  The TV company built a long wooden plank style bridge throughout the entire lagoon which was seriously dilapidated at this point.  Even in this state it was easy to appreciate its natural beauty and imagine what it once was.  We cautiously walked out as far as we were able and spoke with 2 men who were tooling around in handmade wooden canoes.

Jorge peeling our oranges-with a machete of course

From there, we walked around the town and spoke with the woman who is acting as the administrator for Les’ project.  We were shown potential property that is for sale and spent some time just chatting with the locals.  We ended up in an orange grove and snacked on the bitter green oranges that are so popular here.  The farmer, taking a break from “mowing” his land with his machete to offer us the fruit, gave Juan 20lbs of oranges to deliver to people less fortunate than he, and sent me home with several grapefruit for myself. 

On the way home we drove up a little ways into the mountains to look at the scenery and because I wanted to see the “Jungle School” that I had read about.  We paused roadside to look at the rapids of the Rio Cangrejal, the waterfalls and the iguanas that were all around and just be still for a bit.  I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the unspoiled beauty of this place and gratitude that I am feeling at this point in my life for being blessed enough to be given the opportunity to do all that I have done and see all that I have seen.

Around Town

El Mercado 

In between monsoon style rain I have been able to get out and about a bit this past week.  With the other gringos that I'm in school with, I went to the beach, the mercado (market), and lots of other places around town.

Rambután

I have fallen in love with rambután, a fruit with crazy hair all over it.  I've never had lychee in the US but from what I can understand they are very similar. You can buy it on just about any street corner and at every market stand, along with green oranges, bananas, etc.

Other than fruit, the food is fairly plain.  LOTS of rice and LOTS of beans.  Also lots of pork chops.  I have had the super common pupusa-tortilla/potato/cheese contraption made flat and grilled, and they are good.  Not many, or really any, vegetables to speak of other than plantains.

Half of the Gringo/a Group

One of the most exciting things I have done so far is going to the Honduras/Jamaica futbol (soccer) game.  Wow!  What a difference from sporting events in the states.  The first challenge was getting into the stadium.  I guess for crowd control purposes, the stadium is divided in half with a 10 foot tall fence topped with barbed wire.  Unfortunately, our group ended up getting split up and on other sides of the stadium.  After figuring it out we were able to get on the same side to watch the game.  What an experience!  Honduras ended up winning 2-1 and with each goal the crowd went WILD.  Woman took their shirts off, kids blew incessantly on plastic horns and men screamed.

My favorite part though, was the wave.  In the circular soccer stadium the wave went around at least 10 times.  If not more.  It started tamely enough, but by the end everyone was throwing their basura (trash) up in the air along with their hands when it got to them.  Then the kids would run around and quickly collect all the trash so that they were ready to throw it in the air again by the time the wave came back around.  It was like trash confetti--such a happy time.  I kept chuckling to myself thinking about what would happen if you tried to do that at a stadium in the states.

My New Digs

My bedroom

Life in La Ceiba reminds me so much of my time in Monterrey, Mexico.  Similar house and similar neighborhood, although Monterrey is a much bigger city.

I am living in one of the nicer neighborhoods in La Ceiba.  Middle class at least.  The houses are pretty typical: one story, tiled floor, lots of Jesus paraphernalia.  Our house and gate are pink. Very pink, which is nice for identification purposes.  I am sharing a room for the week with a Swiss girl.  She is working on a project in the mountains and is in Ceiba taking language classes for only a week.  Her spanish is VERY limited and her english is only slightly better so my heart goes out to her frequently.  The living room and dining area are kind of an open format in the house and there is a tiny kitchen off of the dining area.  In the kitchen is a cooktop hooked up to a propane tank.  There is one bathroom in the house, and the shower water is FREEZING!!! Which is actually a welcome relief from the daily heat.  No working sink, but we just brush our teeth in the shower and rinse it down with water.  The biggest challenge is that the entire city is on water rationing-so our water is turned off every night from 9pm-5am.  Makes it tricky for that late night potty break.

Stove

Living Room/Dining Room

The shower--we store water in the buckets for late night rationing time

Kitchen

My temporary family is great.  My "mama", Gloria, is a former teacher.  I have a "brother", Alex, who is 21.  He is in school part time and teaches part time at the high school.  I also have 3 "sisters", Pamela, Susan and Aldita.  Pamela is 22 and works at a preschool.  Susan is 14 and in 8th grade and Aldita is 9 and has Downs Syndrome.  I love being part of a bigger family and find myself thinking a lot about what it would have been like to have stepped into the middle of my family as a ex-pat.

I started school on Monday and I love it!  It's pretty intense-only me and my teacher, Karla, but she is awesome!  We tell funny stories, she is an elementary school teacher too, and talk about pop-culture topics and music.  I think I am going to get so much out of my time with her.  She studied linguistics in college and likes to tell me about the roots and origins of the words which is fascinating to me as well.  I leave school every day with my brain hurting, and I think that's a good thing!

Thats all for now. Internet is very slow here, in fact some days its non-existant all over town, and I have homework to do!  Love to all!

Getting Here

The view at the airport in San Pedro Sula

After a great trip to Florida: a day on the beach, a night time boat ride and gorgeous weather, I awoke on Saturday morning to a gloomy, rainy day.  Anxious and excited I ate breakfast, repacked (a feat in itself) and headed to the airport.  As soon as I walked up to the TACA counter the man working there began speaking spanish. BAM. The adventure began.

The flight from Miami to San Pedro Sula was uneventful.  I was way too excited to sleep so I watched a little of a movie and ate the delicious pre-packaged cheese croissant.  When we got to SAP baggage claim was kind of a disaster but once all was found, immigration and customs was easy enough.  Then, I bought a bus ticket to La Ceiba and waited for the bus to board.

Bus Ride

From the airport I took the bus to the main terminal in San Pedro Sula and then waited for my connecting bus to take me the rest of the way to La Ceiba.  There were only 4 of us on the bus-2 Japanese tourists, an older Honduran couple and myself.  It was a long ride.  We watched Lassie twice, and I'm pretty sure at one point that the older man peed in the back of the bus.  When we finally got to the bus station in La Ceiba everything was dark and shut down, but Raphael, the director of the school I'm attending was there to greet me.  He brought me to my host family's house where I fairly quickly went to sleep, exhausted after my 12 hour travel day.