I am back in Juticalpa for my last week and a half before returning to my home and native land with very mixed feelings. My time in Honduras has been amazing, although an amazing that is very different than you would use to describe a vacation, an evening out with friends, a second date, or a concert you've waited a long time to see and I'm not sure I'll be able to effectively articulate that aspect of my internship but I'll try my best to do so in a later post. I've learned so much about so many things that it seems impossible to have only been here for a short 4 1/2 months. I've been able to see some amazing things, meet some amazing inspiring people, and have had some amazing experiences (not all good ones, but ones that will be a part of me forever), and ironically now its the uncertainty of what happens next that has me a little freaked out to return to a city I have known my whole life full of friends and family with open arms and smiling faces.
Unfortunately last Thursday something a little bit scary happened, occurring just 10 minutes away from the city I live in and on a highway that I take frequently. I'm not naive, I know that Honduras is/can be a dangerous place, but this is a little more close to home for me than the shootings that have occurred inside of the town during my time in Honduras because its a route I take often and a time (while taking the bus) that I have no control over what happens to me once I get on. Since returning to Juticapla I have talked to my Honduran family about the incidence and they told me that the town is really tense and the streets are even more dangerous at night. I'm hoping that the next week will be as uneventful (safety wise) as the last 4 1/2 months and that as long as I continue to be smart, I'll stay safe.
http://edition.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/americas/01/07/honduras.bus.shooting/index.html
LWF shut down for Christmas and I had the amazing opportunity to explore other departments (provinces) of Honduras and spend the holidays with Sandra (my wonderful coworker from Teguic.) and her family in Santa Rosa de Copan. Santa Rosa is cold! and it would have been useful to have a scarf, touque and mittens. Her mother is the sweetest fiercest little old lady, and I enjoyed helping her make pan (to eat with cafe) and her nephew Emilio had a huge crush on me, that may or may not have been mutual. Sandra took me on walks up and down her cobble stoned streets showing me important buildings, and her favourite places to grab a coffee and read a book. She tried to teach me the difference between Salsa and Meringue(sp?) and after many late nights dancing in her living room with her attention seeking but adorable niece Fernanda I may just have figured it out. Christmas was great however the only tradition I was able to keep alive was waking up on Christmas morning with a hangover--guess that one will have to stick around for a couple of more years. Sorry Mom. We went over to Sandra's Brother's house for Christmas dinners and a house full of friends an family. We had nancatamales, rice, and some special Christmas dish with specially prepared pork. There was music, dancing, and too many shots. The firecrackers started at around 8pm and lasted until early into the morning. Why Hondurans are obsessed with firecrackers (fireworks without the pretty colours) is beyond me but men--grown men--are in the streets daily shooting these things off hour after hour. I must be missing something, If you can't beat them, join them--Ill have to give it a try before I come home.
I also really enjoyed maneuvering around the country via bus all by my lonesome and I have come to dislike the term "Chicken Bus" given to colorful modified and decorated US school bus and transit bus that transports goods and people between communities here in Honduras, as well as other parts of the world. I've been on a million of these buses, and although I can only speak for the section of Honduras that I live in, I have yet to see a chicken (or any form of livestock) on any of the buses, but even if I had I would still feel uncomfortable by the term. As a foreigner it might seem weird or different to see some of the things transported on these buses, however a car is a luxury that many Canadians (especially those living in remote rural areas) have that does not exist in many other parts of the world and if you could see all the weird and possibly freaky things going into those cars and being transported behind closed (car)doors from store to home you'd probably be just as shocked and surprised. I think that terming these buses, often the only way of transportation to rural and remote areas, after livestock is ethnocentric, small minded, and demeaning to the cultures that use them and takes away from the fact that they are efficient (relatively speaking) and a great cost effective way to get from point A to point B while having the opportunity to take in the beautiful countryside.
While taking a bus back to Santa Rosa de Copan after visiting the Mayan ruins in Copan a man started talking to me in English. This happens quite regularly, as though simply knowing English forges a great bond between us, and usually I don't mind chatting and helping someone practice their English however this time after about twenty minutes the man (who was about my age and apparently lives and works in Hollywood) started typing things in Spanish on his phone to show me so I could practice my Spanish, things like "You are so pretty" "I want you", then after getting off the phone with Sandra (letting her know that I was close, and letting him know that someone was waiting for me) he grabbed my phone to get my number and then said, "You are my Canadian girlfriend now, I need to take a picture of you to show my family, you can meet them tomorrow." Bahah Luckily for me the bus was just pulling into the dirt patch that serves as a terminal so I jumped into the isle insuring there were several people in between us, hopped into a cab, and sped away...although I couldn't avoid his calls that continued for two weeks even though I failed to answer even once. O Honduran courtship how I will miss thee once I am back on Canadian soil.
I have no doubt my last week here will fly by as I try to finish my research, pack up my room, say good bye to my new friends and family and embark on the 48 hour journey that will take me home to the frozen tundra close to my heart that is My Winnipeg. I may have to stop traveling after this because my heart is getting stretched pretty thin trying to reach so many people in so many places all at the same time. Either that or I'll have to figure out a way to teleport to make visiting much easier because there's still a lot of the world I want to explore.
Happy New Year, Make memories you are proud to keep,
Delaney C.
No comments:
Post a Comment