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.