"Today" has actually been the past 36 hours, which are all bleeding together into one long traveling day. I flew into New York City Friday night, but after a long week of work, I hadn't really given myself a lot of time to think about the details of this trip. And so I found myself standing in the middle of the Jet Blue terminal, trying to figure out how to make my way to the international flights terminal, and (for some bizarre reason -- I think I felt foolish) unwilling to ask for help. This resulted in me taking the moving sidewalk back and forth about 3 times with all of my luggage before I finally figured out that I just needed to go a little farther than I'd gone the other 3 times and I found the way to Terminal 4. I then had to wait until 2 AM for my flight to board and spent most of the time grading papers (to try and stay awake--middle school writing is actually pretty amusing) and staying as far as I could away from the middle school boys' field trip group that was also about to board my plane. (My prayer went something like this: Dear Lord, I already work with middle schoolers all the time. This is my vacation. Please, don't make me sit with them!) FINALLY boarded the plane, and immediately fell asleep and slept the whole way (incredible for me) until we arrived in San Pedro Sula.
My brother had agreed to fly in and meet me in San Pedro Sula and take the bus back with me to La Ceiba. (For timing reasons, it didn't work for me to fly to La Ceiba.) I was praying that he would arrive before me because I only know about 3 phrases in Spanish, and my "Spanish for Dummies" booklet had taught me how to say "I need help" but not to explain what specific help I needed. (It did, however, teach me how to say, "I can't breathe." Pretty unhelpful, given that I doubt I'd be able to speak--much less speak in Spanish--if I couldn't breathe.) Thankfully, I stepped out of customs and immediately saw a tall skinny blond gringo waiting to meet me! This was our "Sarah survived the flight" picture:
After hugs, Andy got me a delicious coffee drink to wake me up (apparently "iced coffee" here is similar to a Dunkin Donuts Coffee Coolata -- sweet, icy, caffeinated goodness!) and some breakfast. Then we waited in a long line to buy the bus tickets and waited even longer to board the bus, reminding me that my American sense of efficiency is not necessarily valued here. So we read American magazines, told stories, changed into cooler clothes, and practiced my extremely limited Spanish with a sweet older woman who told me I look like I'm 18. Here's us, a little more awake, waiting on the curb for the bus (note the short sleeves!!!):
The bus ride was actually quite enjoyable, although it was almost as long as my flight to Honduras because of traffic. We were on an air conditioned luxury bus that provided food and a movie (Nancy Drew, of all things) and I really enjoyed getting to look out the window as we drove between the two cities. I was struck, as we were driving through the countryside, by how much of "life" was lived visibly, outdoors: I saw people hanging up laundry, selling produce, walking to/from school, playing in the river, talking with neighbors, cooking dinner. It felt almost voyeuristic to be watching this through a bus window, but it also reminded me a lot of my trips to Romanian villages: life is lived outdoors, in view of the community. I admire it in a lot of ways, but I also don't want to glamorize it. Some of this is cultural, and some of it is also tied to poverty -- less opportunity to put up walls, even if you want them. I mentioned it to Andy and contrasted what I saw with what I would see driving through any neighborhood in the US -- yards, maybe a few kids playing outside or someone walking their dog, but not nearly this much activity. He drew an even starker contrast between what we were seeing and the wealthier neighborhoods in the city, where not only is life more private, but everyone actually has a high wall around their house, usually with a padlocked gate and barbed wire or spikes at the top to prevent theft. See, for example, this random shot from outside the car window once we were in the city:
The only really unenjoyable part of the bus ride was the couple in front of us, who spent the entire 3.5 hours making out. (Side note: I'm ok with mild PDA in public, especially since it was Valentine's Day, but when you are leaning your seat back into me so that you can move on top of one another -- not ok.) Once we arrived in La Ceiba and caught a cab back to Andy's house (which we had to share with someone else -- you guessed it, the make-out couple) we napped and bummed around for the rest of the day. We took a quick walk around Andy's neighborhood and got honked at constantly. (Apparently because we're "gringos," or white people -- Andy says cabs always honk at gringos because they expect you to want a ride, and other cars just honk because they can.) Andy then took me to get baleadas for dinner -- tortillas stuffed with eggs, cheese, refried beans, and then pretty much anything else you want -- delicioso! I don't think I've actually ever had homemade tortillas before, but I am now ruined forever; they are so much better than the dry things you buy at the grocery store. I wanted to take a picture but Andy didn't want me to look like a tourist, so I resisted the urge.
The night ended with a 2-hour effort to find The Office on streaming TV that will still download in Honduras (apparently NBC.com charges you), which we finally discovered and thoroughly enjoyed the misadventures of Michael Scott. As I'm writing this, it is actually now Sunday afternoon, but because this post has become so long I'll save writing about today for later this evening or tomorrow. Hasta luego! (Look at me learning Spanish!) ;)
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