Honduras

April 27, 2010

Sitting in Sushi Maki in the Miami airport, I’m taken back to the han bao place in Pingtung. It’s funny how a taste, smell, even a voice can transport me back in time. Vegetable fried rice in the states tastes just the same as it does cooked by that sweet lady in Pingtung. It’s been less than a year and here I am again, leaving all that is comfortable behind. The stresses of life are sometimes so heavy that I daydream myself away. My daydreams manifest into my fingertips typing onto my keyboard and soon, I hit the book it button. So here I am again, wrapped in a thin airport blanket shivering from cold and anticipation. I have no idea what lies ahead of me, but I know that the stress that will most certainly come with this change will be the good kind of stress. The kind that stretches the mind into every crevasse of the skull, stretches my heart and lets it beat for others aside from myself, but most importantly the kind of stress that reawakens my want to change this world. Each day, I feel myself being put out like a candle that cannot compete with the wind. Resolve is not just there, it is earned, and I am here to find mine again, this time armed with a degree and a restlessness that will not allow me to fail. The other side of the coin – I am terrified. I couldn’t sleep last night because of all the worry about getting to where I need to go on time. My final flight from San Pedro Sula to La Ceiba has a short connection time, and I am so worried that I won’t make it. If that happens, I will have to stay the night in San Pedro by myself. The people in the airport walk around with rifles, and the M13 gang apparently controls the streets at night. I can’t stay the night in the airport because it closes at midnight. So – I’m praying for a flight that leaves on time. If I can just get to La Ceiba tonight, I think that I will be okay. Nick’s sister Jenny connected me with a friend of hers who volunteers in La Ceiba at an orphanage. I’m armed with crayons and coloring books in case I get any of those pleading looks that I hate so much to see. I also have peach 0s for Jennie as a thank you for letting me stay the night. I’m just ready for this layover to end so I can get to it! Get this month started!!

April 28, 2010

If I could title this day, I would title it eyes on the horizon. The only way I kept from getting seasick today on the Utila Princess was by sucking on a life saver while watching the horizon for an hour. You underestimate the power of seasickness in ruining your equilibrium until you test it and your throw up right into the ocean. Lucky for me, the breathing exercises that Robin the Canadian I met on the boat showed me kept this from happening.

Currently, I am sitting on a wooden bench on the second floor of the BICA Building in Utila. Getting here was quite difficult – probably the most logistically challenged place that I have come to so far in life. Last night after I finally got to fly out of Miami, I connected in San Pedro Sula. I went through customs quickly and checked onto my TACA Airlines flight to La Ceiba. I made the flight in plenty of time and held on for dear life as the tiny plane bucked through the air. People were staring at me like I was crazy for covering my eyes the whole time, but hey…what can you do. I met two guys a little older than me in the La Ceiba airport. Chris was an expat from the US who left it all to open a toy business in Tegucigalpa. With him was a photographer from STL coming to help him get the word out on his business. The two helped me to get a cab to Jennie Motto’s house and made sure that I made it okay. It is so nice to have helping hands when you are sleep deprived and traveling alone. I was exhausted from my long long day of travel, and they helped me out so much. Per Jenny’s email, Jennie’s place was to the right of the Church’s Chicken and Burger King. I knocked on the door as hard as I could and down comes Jennie! Jennie is a wonderful volunteer who used to work at The Finca with Nick’s sister Jenny. They were there for a year together before Jennie moved to La Ceiba to be a house mom for some students there. Upon my arrival, the two of us talked for awhile and got to know each other. While we were talking, one of the girls who lives in the house asks Jennie in Spanish which brother of Jenny’s that I was dating. I let her know that I was dating her older brother Nick. She started laughing and blushing and then ushered me into her room to see the picture that she had hanging on the wall. It was of Nick! How random is that? Just when I got to feeling a little homesick, a sweet Honduran walked me into her room and there was Nick! She asked me if it was okay and I said yes of course. I said, that picture was taken before we started dating, so if you think about it, he’s all yours! She just laughed and seemed relieved. How funny! Nick let me know that Jenny showed his picture around while she was living at the finca and everyone loved his fur! How sweet. I wonder if they would like him now that he is plucking his eyebrows and manscaping. Jennie and I attempted to get some sleep last night, but the heat was stifling. I stuck to the thin sheet I was laying on all night and slept restlessly. Thank the dear lord for fans, because they have been my lifeline. I am sucking down water constantly and making sure that I stay hydrated. This island is pretty much a large dehydrating machine. I woke up this morning around 5:30. The sun comes up earlier it seems like. Also, I don’t have blackout curtains here, so that will definitely get me up sooner each day. I took a cold shower and then packed myself up again to head to the ferry. Jennie and I took a short walk around town to pick up eggs, cheese, and bananas so she could make the boys breakfast. Our walk was fun – La Ceiba has a pretty distinct smell. Trash mixed with salty ocean water and stale heat. I imagine that it can be miserable if you don’t keep an open mind and a positive attitude, but I was too excited to feel anything but anticipation! Jennie put me on a cab to the ferry and I jetted away from my new friend. After the short car ride, I bought my ticket for the ferry and waited. It leaves twice a day so I got there extra early to make sure I made it in time. I met an Irish couple who live in Utila and who talked to me about their daughter’s dive shop here, the Ecomarina. They told me where to eat and what to do and to look for them in their blue golf cart. I also met a couple my age from Colorado who had been backpacking for 5 months across Central and South America who were making their way back home. The gentlemen who sat next to me was from Norway. He was working on his thesis and traveling to Utila to dive. It’s amazing how many people you meet like yourself when traveling. I feel like I could have been fast friends with any of these people today. I hope to see the Irish couple around again, they were welcoming and very funny as most of the Irish seem to be. After a grueling, and I mean grueling hour long ferry ride, I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out onto the dock. There was a member of BICA waiting with a sign for me at the end of the dock, and I was happy to see her. After quite a long trip, it’s a good feeling to know that you’ve finally made it. She loaded me onto the back of her four wheeler and motored me to the BICA office. The building is a two story yellow building on the left side of the main road in Utila. I say the word road loosely. There are no cars here, only bicycles, golf carts, four wheelers, and dirt bikes. We motored down just a little ways, and here I am. At this point, I was soaking wet with sweat. It is incredibly hot this time of year, with no cool down in sight. Today it got up to 102. Heat like this seems to pull every ounce of life out of a person, I have been feeling utterly exhausted all day. I am 3 bottles of water deep in the last few hours, so no worries there. My room here at BICA is surprisingly nice. It is very standard, but I have my own bathroom complete with a small stand up shower and mirrorless sink. I feel like this is a blessing in disguise as I will not be looking my prettiest here. No makeup and constant sweat does not do much for a person in the looks department. I am excited about this sort of detoxification time here…no blow dryers, no flat irons, nothing but cold showers and soap. I am two cold showers in today, but I imagine more will be necessary in the days to come. The air is so heavy here it seems like you could cut through it with a knife. With the fan blowing directly on you though, it is bearable. Outside of my bathroom, there is a small room with a twin bed and a shelf. There are a few outlets in the room so that I can charge my computer and such, which I am grateful for. Down the hall from my room are a couple other living areas as well as a kitchen with a wonderful freezer! I will freeze my water bottle there and am so happy to have it! I went for a walk a little after I unpacked – It seems like there are quite a few restaurants here so I should be able to find some good things to eat. I am excited for the other volunteers to get here so that I can have friends to tag along with and have meals. I have not yet found a legitimate grocery store. However, I did find a place that sold tortillas, so those should get me through until I can get to a bank. It didn’t take long into my walk for me to get too tired to go on, so I stopped into this building called The Whale Shark and Ocean Research Center. They take groups of 8 everyday out to snorkel with whale sharks. It costs $59 for a 4 hour trip. I signed up just in case I have time tomorrow. Is this really my life right now? I will be snorkeling with the largest fish in the ocean tomorrow? I don’t even know how I’m sitting here right now. I’m resting up tonight and hopefully getting started bright and early tomorrow!

April 29, 2010

Woke up tired and hot today. I am going to go ahead and assume that will be the norm for the next few weeks. You know what, I am okay with that. You have to compromise when you travel, and I have fans, so I’m not going to complain. The sleeping situation is good. I’m not sleeping on a straw mat like in Taiwan. I have an inch thick mattress type pad this time, so it’s not too bad. That straw mat sure did whip me into shape last summer. Now, I can fall asleep on the floor, or in the dirt, camping, pretty much anywhere. I didn’t get back to BICA (Bay Islands Conservation Association, the group I’m volunteering for) until around 10. 10 p.m. here feels like 2 a.m. so I was ready to go to sleep. I think showering three times a day is something that is unavoidable here. The air is so hot and humid that it feels like someone is smearing warm honey all over your body. I sat down on my bed and thought…There is no way that I can get into my bed right now. This thin sheet will stick to me and I won’t ever be able to get out. Showers here are wonderfully cold year round, but last night, I wasn’t feeling it. I got out some wet wipes and cleaned up. The only thing I really care about keeping clean is my feet. Dirty feet are not okay for me, especially when trying to sleep. At home, I usually wash my feet in the bathtub most nights before hitting the pillow. Last night though, wet naps sufficed. Yesterday around 4 p.m., Eduardo, another volunteer here from the mainland, came up and asked if I he could show me around. I don’t have any friends here yet, so I said sure, that’d be awesome. He showed me where I could find a grocery store, good restaurants, and good bars. He seemed to be most interested in the good bar part of things, so I just followed him around while he talked about different things we saw. Our first stop was at this bar, and I say bar loosely, called Babalu. The best way that I can describe Babalu is in shapes. You walk in, think rectangular room. Next a square. Each side of the square is made up of a dock. So a high up square shaped dock with rickety wood and high stilts. The middle of the square is completely open showcasing the transparent green ocean below. The area is roughly 7 by 7 I would say. Eduardo and I sat down and watched the water – in about ten minutes, I saw a manta ray, a parrot fish, a blue trumpet fish, brain coral, a lobster, angel fish, blue tangs, and a myriad of other colorful fish. He grabbed a couple of beers for us, Salva Vida, apparently the local staple, and I sipped enough to get the beer in the bottle down to the bottom of the neck. I eventually told him I hated beer and didn’t drink the stuff, but I tried at least. The sun went down while we were sitting there, and on both sides of me I could see boats and lights and beautiful sunshine hitting the little waves. It was picturesque in such a ridiculous way. We left Babalu and walked to the part of town “that I should never walk through without accompaniment” Eduardo said. There are nice big houses with huge decks from time to time, most certainly from foreigners who choose Utila as a vacation place. Because Utila is a long skinny island, you can pretty much see the ocean no matter where you go (well, you can’t see it from BICA but I’m not here to complain) and the air smells like salt. I saw a lady walking around with a plastic bag yesterday full of whole fish. It was kind of sad, the only reason I knew they were whole fish is because the bag had wrapped completely around the eye of one of them and it was kind of like glaring at me as she walked by. Not okay one eyed fish, not okay. Eduardo showed me all kinds of flowers and trees here. A man who cross pollinates trees and flowers to produce new species lives here and his work is everywhere. Purple hibiscus, bright blue acacia, the flowers are wonderful. There are almonds tress and mango trees and things I cannot identify. Apparently almonds here are in low demand – no one likes them so they just fall to the ground and rot. I told Eduardo that he should figure out a way to export them because in the US they are not cheap. It’s strange how one person’s trash is someone else’s treasure. While walking, Eduardo ran into two people that he had taken on a tour a year earlier in La Ceiba. We all went to a place called Coco Loco to watch the sun go down. The couple was on vacation from their home in Canada after a recent and awful accident in their lives. Their son was hit by a car and hit frontal lobe in his brain was severely injured. His skull did not crack of fracture so his brain just kept swelling and swelling. He was kept in a drug induced come for two months until it was decided that his brain size had decreased. The pair told me that their son was only 19, and now lives with a completely changed personality, no memory, and an aversion to anything that he once loved. His job opportunities are virtually non-existent now, and they just had to get away. They came to Honduras for two weeks to clear their heads. I can’t imagine going through that, so I just sat with them and listened, I think that was all they were wanting. The four of us decided unanimously that it was time to fill our bellies. We ended up at this Italian restaurant called La Piccola. Funny how Italy follows me around no matter where I am. I had fresh Tuna from the ocean with olives, capers, and tomatoes with rice and sweet carrots. It was definitely a 9. So good. The couple took care of our check, which I protested, but they explained that here things are so affordable that they loved being able to do things like that whereas at home, they sometimes could not. I only have American dollars right now, so it was probably for the best. I need to call Arvest, because APPARENTLY, they don’t like it when their people leave the country and forget to tell them about it. My to do list was so long before I left that I just forgot. I had a few Lempiras (Honduran currency) that Jennie had given me for the taxi, leftover, so I went to a little place on the side of the road and bought a bag of tortillas and ate them throughout the day yesterday to keep my hunger down. That being said, dinner was a nice treat. After leaving the restaurant, we went to show the Canadians Babalu, which they seemed to really enjoy. I was exhausted, so Eduardo walked me back to BICA. I skyped for a little while, working on the book I’m reading right now, A Thousand Splendid Sons, and fell asleep as best as I could. I have three open windows in my room and bathroom, so the sounds of all the lizards, blaaaaaaaaaakkkk blaaaaaakkkkk and the sounds of golf carts honking coupled with the heat made for somewhat of a restless night. I woke up this morning when the sun came up. I didn’t bring a watch with me to Honduras, so I have no idea what time it is at any given time of the day. I know that I am an hour before CST, but time doesn’t really seem to matter here. Like this morning, I got up, got dressed, went downstairs to the BICA office, and no one is here. I am not sure where everyone is or if anyone is even awake yet, but it’s nice for me. I can wake up slow. I brought some Quaker Oatmeal with me, apples and cinnamon, the best and only good kind of oatmeal. We have a makeshift kitchen here with a fridge and an oven. I couldn’t figure out how to get the stovetop to work, so I had to figure out a way to make me water warm for my oatmeal. A coffee maker was on the counter top, so I poured some water through there and let er rip. The lukewarm coffee tasting water didn’t do much for my oatmeal, but I ate it as quick as possible so I didn’t have to taste my watery gruel. I’ll have to figure out this eating situation today, because not eating enough has left me perpetually exhausted. I gave most of my food away to Jennie the other day – she’d been there for over a year so it was the least I could do. I can’t imagine that much time going by and not having any taste of home. She loved the beef jerky and twix and snickers – it was an experience for her. She even sent me an email thanking me, it made her less homesick I think. So now I sit and wait until I hear someone walking around. I need to be Alban’s (the French volunteer who is here now) shadow today I was told, but I am not even sure if he came home last night. Apparently he likes to drink quite a bit, so there is a carton of empty beer bottles in the kitchen. We recycle here, so good for him for remembering even in his drunken stupor.

“Sometimes they kill tourists” – when we heard gunshots today…Alban says to me when we were sitting on our tree house like porch. Awesome. Gunshots from my porch. That’s fine, I can roll with it. Apparently the crazy poachers are killing the swampers, iguanas that are endemic to this area who are highly endangered because they only live on Utila. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna find me some poachers. Unfortunately for me, all I can do is take their pictures and turn them into the government who probably won’t do anything. How can you punish a family who is poor and just trying to feed their kids. You can’t. Either way, we will track them and see what we can do. I haven’t seen an iguana yet, but I’m told they are everywhere. Another NGO here is an iguana rescueing sort of place down the way. I’ll head there next week. I got my “orders” today. My to do list for the month I’m here. There are two enormous wooden square cut outs that eventually need to turn into wonderfully decorated and impossibly artistic informational boards about The Mesoamerican Coral Reef and the mangroves. Obviously, I already started researching and have enough information to fill that bad boy up. Large wooden plank #1 that is. Mangroves are a little harder for me to get excited about, but wait – there is a way to fix that. In lieu of mother’s day coming up, I am helping out at the school doing an educational outreach/art project sort of deal entitled – Why my mother is like a mangrove. Perfect. I am going to make my mom some sort of souvenir. I’m not sure how much she’ll appreciate being likened to a mangrove, but hey, it’s worth a shot. The employees of BICA asked me today – so how comfortable are you with children? What age do you want to teach? Elementary, junior high, or high school? I didn’t respond….is that bad? She says okay, you’re nervous. Don’t worry, after five minutes, you’ll be okay. So I guess I’ll just dive into that. My other duties here include six hours of office work a day. This work will encompass a lot of things I understand like helping to design the BICA Visitor’s Center and doing some whale shark identification stuff, reef watch, overall condition of the oceans and animals in it, etc. Then the marine and terrestrial patrolling for dumping, poaching, and animal observation. I met the boat driver today while walking down the road, Victor. It seems like half of this island’s members are African American. They say that they are not descendents of Africa, but of the islands. They say this is where their story began and that they are not descendents of slaves. It’s interesting how serious they are about it. I am not sure if I should tell them otherwise or not, but hey, I could be wrong. They are good people, Victor was great. He should be here bright and early to get me. He promised that he would show me everything from top to bottom and make sure that we saw a whale shark. It is very lucky and quite difficult to actually see one even though they live around here. My fingers are double crossed, for that would be another slash for my bucket list. It’s incredible how many American expats are here. I ran into this redneckkkk guy from Alabama today. He sounded like he was from the Louisiana Bayou, a thick southern drawl that was almost like another language. How did he get here, why is he here, what’s his story? I should ask him. I told him I was his neighbor, from Arkansas, to which he responded “well, I guess it’s kinder down my wey.” Um…hello? Arkansas is the South and I’d appreciate it if people would quit acting like it’s a dang Midwestern state! That’s a little bit of southern pride speaking I guess. I don’t even know why I have it, it’s not like I stay at home all that much. I ran into the Canadian couple this afternoon. The two of them, Alban, Eduardo, and myself have a dinner date tomorrow so that is exciting. Alban and I went to the beach today. It was my first time over there and it was wonderfullll. Green like in the Caribbean commercials, but even more incredible because of the way the warm salty water makes the dozens and dozens of bug bites I have stop itching, if even for a second. I forgot to pack my hydrocortisone cream. Why oh why did I do that? I have no words. En route to the beach this afternoon, I stopped in at a dive shop here called Ecomarine to see if I might want to get scuba certified. I haven’t decided yet. I’m pretty partial to snorkeling myself, but we’ll see how it goes. After leaving, Alban and I were talking about how ridiculously dirty we both are all the time here, and BAM, a bird pooped on my arm out of nowhere! The irony. I guess that will be the last time I complain. After a dinner of a peanut butter and strawberry jam tortilla sandwhich, a green banana, and two twizzlers, I’m ready to get a much needed shower and some rest in preparation for my first real adventure in the morning.

April 30^th, 2010

I woke up this morning around 4 a.m. due to the 57 (yes, I counted them) sand flea bites I have on my legs. Just my legs, nowhere else. From what I have learned about these supposed sand fleas, I’ve got their identity pinned down. They are definitely chiggers, so anyone from our part of the country can understand how maddening they are. You can’t see them until you have bites all over you. The Hondurans say that all you have to do is cover your legs in baby oil and they will just stick to you instead of bite you. I’m going to buy some later today along with anti-itch cream and maybe some benadryl. I was up and around today by 5:30 due to the sun coming up in the window next to my head, so I made some oatmeal and gathered up my things for patrolling at 6:45. Chelle, a guide here at BICA picked me up on her four-wheeler and we headed off to get on the boat. The boat is parked in the lagoon which is unfortunately completely full of trash – I’m talking couches, dirt bikes, big trash. It’s so sad that things just get dumped off into the ocean like that, especially in a place as beautiful as Utila. Chelle, myself, Victor, and “The General” headed out at 7 and got to “work” which consisted of driving around the island and looking for fisherman who were fishing for conch, lobsters, turtles, and red snapper, a few of the protected creatures in this area. We saw a few suspect looking fisherman, but nothing turned up with them. After boating around the island for some time, we needed a cool down. My diving friend and I jumped out into the water and started snorkeling. By the time all was said and done, the two of us had probably gone the length of three football fields away from the boat, which is a pretty scary feeling when you lift your head up and have no idea where you are. Maybe that is a few too many episodes of “You Shouldn’t Be Alive” talking, but diving in the open water basically alone is not the most settling thing one can do. On my dive today, I saw an enormous manta ray, a barracuda, dozens of intensely beautiful angelfish, platefish, damsels, parrot fish, a puffer fish, and of course the fan coral and brain coral. Underwater is so relaxing. It’s nice to look down and realize that the world as we know it is nothing compared to this underground blue planet. The structures underwater are so complex yet so wonderfully simple that I sometimes wish I could stay down forever. Swimming is a little too tiring for that though. After snorkeling, we headed to The Cays to drop off something to the school there. The General showed me around the place. It’s a tiny island off of Utila with a population of about 500. Some of the people stay there their entire lives. The mayor just built a stone walkway there and it was described to me as being a huge advancement. As we’re walking down in the cay, Ricardo gives away his barely touched pineapple juice to a little girl who is sitting on the sidewalk in the sun. We walk on and up comes this open room area off the main sidewalk / street. Five men, probably around my age, are huddled around a pot of water, coral, and a banana. Ricardo told me that they have nothing, not even food to eat, but that they are so much better off here in Honduras. I asked him if the government gives money to public works for the people and he said “maybe, but it doesn’t get to people like this. People down there drop down with hunger.” On our way out, he handed one of the men a 100 lempira note. Here I am, walking down the sidewalk with a man who is a reporter for Utila, an employee of BICA, and the owner of his own soccer club – he is poor also – but he has an income. He says this is why he likes to give his money away so often, because he has sat on the sidewalk and been a beggar before, and he cannot not do something when he sees it happening. Ricardo has found a way to not walk that fine line in between enabling and helping. I am not sure how he does it, but he is truly incredible to walk down the street with. The way people look at him makes him seem like Robin Hood to me. Maybe that’s why they call him “The General.”

May 2, 2010

After I sulked around my room for a little while yesterday, I got up and headed down to the Mango Inn to have a pizza. There is a wood fire grill there, just like in Italia. I ordered myself a margherita pizza and some water, sat down at the bar by myself and watched the news about the oil spill in the gulf. I cannot even stand to think about how angry it makes me that hundreds of thousands of gallons of water are contaminated and so many ecosystems and species are being affected, let alone people. While I was sitting there, a lady, Gail, sat down beside me. We made small talk together, the usuals. Where are you from, what are you doing here, that sort of thing. Gail accompanied her son Dylan down to Utila so she could get him settled in for his Dive Master training course. Being 19, he has been going out on his own with his new friends, and his mom was left solo. Lucky for me, I am too! The two of us hit it off. She is a fellow traveler, and had some amazing stories. Her husband just got back from a trip to France with a man named JP. JP is a Frenchman who spends his life promoting boutique hotels. We’re talking 5,000 euro / night type of hotels. Because he is recently divorced and no longer takes his wife on his “work” trips, he now takes friends. Gail and her husband are lucky enough to be this man’s friend, so he takes them to France with him to travel and stay, even take cooking classes. What an incredible job. I want his job. Gail and I just got to talking, found we had a lot in common, and decided to spend today together. This morning I met her at her hotel which is at The Mango, and walked into her deliciously air conditioned room to say hello. You don’t realize how fantastic climate control is until you are out of the ac for a few days…man, it was awesome. I hesitantly left her room, and we headed out. There is a hotel here that you can only get to by boat. It’s called The Lagoon Resort, and Gail wanted to check it out. We went to the dive shop, per the bartender’s instructions, to inquire how we could get to this resort. The owner ended up taking us there on his dive boat and dropped us off so we could look around. When he meant drop us off, I guess he meant drop us off and not come back which we later found out was the case. I was totally okay with that. The resort is located on a tiny island with one side facing the lagoon and the other side facing the ocean. It feels like a private island. When we stepped off the boat, I walked through the brush and Gail and I just started laughing. We laughed the kind of laugh that you have whenever there are no words in the English language that we can employ at a specific moment because the place you are looking at leaves you speechless. 180 degrees of nothing but the most gorgeous ocean, white sand, hammocks, white wooden lounge chairs, and a pool shaped like a whale shark (with a whale shark also painted on the inside)...true paradise. I changed into my swimsuit and jumped in the pool. We probably weren’t supposed to jump in the pool of a resort we weren’t staying at, but hey, when in Rome. Gail quickly followed suit. Eventually we had two beers in our hand and we were just a laughin up a storm. A half hour of waiting eventually turned into about 4 hours. We spent those four hours moving our lounge chairs into the surf and just sitting, listening to the quiet, the wind, and the waves. We talked about her children and her husband, and the happy life she leads. We shared travel stories and soaked in the rays. I fell asleep in a hammock for a while, the cherry on top of course. There was no one on the beach or in the pool but us. No one. The resort books for $1200 a week, which is an enormous sum here, so not many people stay. We were lucky enough to come at a time when there were no residents, so we took full advantage. The sun here is so direct due to the location of the equator that it didn’t take us long to get our fill of the sun. I slathered on sun block to no avail. I was crispy in just a matter of minutes. I managed to come out with a flip-flop line on my feet and sunburned upper back and shoulders, but that is it. Much longer, and I wouldn’t have been sleeping too well tonight. After the hours passed, we got a little hungry so we decided to figure out how to get back to the mainland. The dive masters at the lagoon were wonderful. They shuttled us to the bank of the island and called a tuc-tuc for us. Picture a small three wheeler with a roof on it. We rode the tuc-tuc back to the mango and I headed home for a half of a PB and J and the rest of my pineapple. I’m here nursing my shoulders now, letting them air out with some lotion and a fan, and loving this day. What a wonderful Sunday it has been so far. Gail and I are meeting at La Piccola for dinner at 6:30, which will no doubt be as fabulous as the first time I ate there. The fish there is so fresh it seems like it might jump off the plate. The rice is so fluffy and good, I have no idea how they make it so good. I cannot wait. For now, it’s siesta time. Hondurans sure do have life down to a science.