Rare are those days that you hold your eyes as wide open as possible just so you can take in every centimeter of memory that you possibly can. My eyes are sore tonight, and my heart is full. My jaw hurts from smiling and laughing, and my tummy hurts from eating an Italian style, straight out of the wood brick oven pizza with my five new friends. Last night during a walk around town after the beach, Gail and I stopped in at La Pirata, a bar here near the pier. Our goal was to take in the sunset for the day, drink a margarita, and watch a hockey game. The latter was not really my preference, but hockey seems fun. I just went with it. The game wasn't on, but the sunset sure was, so we watched it go down. In Honduras, the sun sets in about 2 minutes. It seems like it is racing down the sky to get to the beautiful ocean as quickly as possibly. The sun and I have something in common. In La Pirata, Gail and I met Steve, an American expat from Savannah, Georgia. After a few hours of conversation, the two of us and Steve made a boating date for today at 1 p.m. These invitations run rampant here, so I was not sure if it would actually happen. After a few hours at La Pirata, Gail and I decided to find some dinner. We ended up at Evelyn's. Evelyn's is owned by a former Jamaican, Evelyn, who has more than a large obsession with Bob Marley. From floor to ceiling the place is decked out in Bob Marley tapestries, posters, albums, everything. Typical of Honduras, the meal was fresh fish, Tuna, with curry rice and a boiled potato. Fresh, simple, and very good. About a half hour after we are done eating, Gail and I get tired of waiting for our check so we go in to pay. In case you were wondering, the recipes for Mary Jane Brownies, Special Stir Fry, Cannabis Enchiladas, or even Cannabis Stew were plastered all over the walls for your reference. Pot is a staple here, like the potato is to an Idahoan. It's strange to walk into a bar and get greeted by the smoke cloud of the people before you see a face. There is a calmness to this island, and maybe that is the reason. Smoking and rum are two equal parts of the equation. While teaching the kindergarten children today at the local school, two were fighting over a juice box. One is taunting the other. "Do you want my apple juice? Too bad, you can't have it, it's mine." The other responds, "Take your apple juice, I don't want it. I have Flor de Cana at home." Flor de Cana is the local rum. Two points kid #2. I hope that he wasn't drinking rum from his sippee cup, but I can't say that it would surprise me. Spending time with the local kids the last two days was fun. Day one of the classes, we gathered our supplies and headed to a public school near BICA. Our first class had about 45 students. They seemed so excited to have us there and were even more excited to paint and decorate their cards for Mother's Day. My mother is like a mangrove tree. My mother protects me from harsh weather, she makes sure that I have food and water, she wraps her strong arms around me and tells me she loves me. Estella and I wrote the poem, what a tear jerker. It just has a better ring to it in Spanish. Never trust a small child with black paint. We have them put their hand print on the cards for their mom, and BAM! Black hand print on my dress. It's too bad that the dress is the perfect color for me, that one rare dress that is great in every way. It died an unfortunate death that dress. It's hard to get mad at a 3 year old, so I just went with it and rocked that black mark for the rest of the day. Before we left the first class, the little babies seemed so sad for us to go. They were attached to my legs and hugging so tight. It is incredible what you take from an experience like this, teaching in another country. These kids have so little in comparison. They share a box of old and broken crayons and markers for a table of 20. They sit in a hot classroom with a small fan all day long and don't make a peep about it. They sit and learn their lessons and are happy to be in school. At 3 and 4, they seemed like little adults. I painted, colored, and cut out mom and baby mangrove trees all day, and enjoyed it so much. They appreciated us and seemed as intrigued as I was. Education is something we take very much for granted in the United States. I will never take it for granted again. These children are blessed to be in school here, even if they are sub par by our standards. They are happy and healthy, and truly enjoying the classroom. It was a refreshing for the soul type of experience.
This morning, we spent some time in a third classroom making Mother's Day cards. This classroom was a small one, but the children were just as well behaved. They were so meticulous with their artwork, and so excited to please their moms for Mother's Day. After school, I spent some time researching coral reefs for my research project here, then headed out to meet Gail and get on the boat. Sure enough, Steve, ODell, and Gary were ready to go. ODell, aka Frenchie, is a 46 year old Frenchwoman with enough attitude to make Tyra look like nothing. Gary, a 55 something retired guy from Chicago had one of those abrasive personalities that Chicago residents tend to have, but he was enjoyable to be around. Steve is around 65, Gail 50, and me, 22...we made quite the menagerie. We jumped into Steve's beautiful boat and set out for an adventure. We motored out to The Keys and stopped at a private island in the middle of The Cays and Utila. H.E.A.V.E.N. is the only way I can begin to describe this place. Surrounded on all sides by perfect turquoise water, pelicans with crisp white heads roosting everywhere you look, and waves and wind making the most wonderful noise, coalesced for a sensory overload. It's so incredibly peaceful in the middle of nowhere. You are the only person on Earth, and all the stress melts away. However temporary, the bliss is striking. The five of us spent the afternoon sitting waist deep in 90 degree water, drinking beer, and talking about anything and everything. As the youth of the trip, my fun group of older friends felt it would be a good idea to lay the life lessons on me thick. "Find your passion, pinpoint what you want, and get it. End of story. It's that simple." "Don't live outside your means. Just because you make $100,000 a year doesn't mean you need to buy a Ferrari." "Open up a credit card and use it then pay it off, you need good credit for later on." "Life is short. Eat dessert first." "Don't play games in relationships. You need to know who the person is beside you at night, because when they start snoring like a train or farting under the covers, you just have to roll with it...and if you've ever heard a Frenchman snore, you'd understand what I'm talking about." Layer upon layer of life lessons were given to me tonight, and I opened my ears as wide as I could to catch every ounce. Collectively, we had over 200 years of life on that boat, and I was not about to waste it. After the island, we headed over to a bar, had a few rum and cokes, some more laughs and life lessons, and then a swim. Top it off with a margherita pizza, and all was perfect in my world. I am walking home tonight, soaking it all in thinking "What did I do right in my life? What a perfect day." I step onto my porch in my treehouse, go to open the door, and BAM. Scorpion. Next to my toe. I guess that is another lesson for me. No matter how perfect a day, always watch out for scorpions. :)
May 8, 2010
I think this might be what getting a tattoo feels like. A constant pinch of heat and bruise like tenderness that is agonizing. This morning after my cinnamon roll, I walked down to the bank to get some lempiras to last me the next two weeks. There was a line out the door that was guarded by two men carrying semi-automatic rifles. The ATMs conveniently were not working for me, so I had no choice but to wait in a very long, middle of the hot sun, line. I finally made it through the door into the bank only to be greeted by about 20 people snaked down the wall waiting in line also. An hour and a half later, I had my money in my hand. The employees in Banco Atlantida were doing transactions with a typewriter. This kind of banking juxtaposed with my drive through in and out in 2 minutes bank was a somewhat humbling experience. Afterwards, I made my way to The Mango Inn to spend some time with Gail, who leaves on Monday. Needless to say, Monday will be a sad day. We layed out for about an hour, swam in the pool for a bit, layed in the hammock, listened to music…just lived the good life today. I put on sunscreen – 70 on my face and 30 on my body. Apparently the 30 was not waterproof. Walking to lunch, I felt this intense pain in my legs from the rays of the sun. It felt like someone was pouring acid all over me. I thought that something had bitten me. A snake or a scorpion, who knows around here. I glanced at my legs and they were BRIGHT red. I’m talking overcooked lobster red. Not a good look for me. I looked at my arms. RED. I lifted up my dress and pulled the swimsuit bottoms to the side. I look like a peppermint. Also not a good look for me. Sitting at Munchies eating some less than good chicken nachoes, I draped a white cotton thin cardigan over my arms to keep them from burning. Thank the dear lord I had aloe vera at home. Gail saw how much pain I was in so she gave me her hotel room key so I could lay in the AC. That helped for about five minutes until I realized that laying felt like laying on needles. I hesitantly got up and walked home and put my aloe in the freezer. I stripped down and have been walking around my house full of windows for about 4 hours with nothing but my peppermint suit and aloe vera all over me. Things stick to aloe, so I cannot sit down. Outside there is an actual aloe vera plant that I chopped into and rubbed on my legs, which hurt the worst. The aloe vera is yellowish green so now I look like a tinsel draped candy cane. Awesome. Currently, I have the dress my mom bought me on with two fans pointing directly at me. I heard a whistle earlier which I assume means that someone saw me walking around naked. Glad to know that someone enjoys the sight of a red person who looks like she has on a white swimsuit. I think the best option at this point is to take my aloe out of the freezer, head to Gail’s, watch movies, and have a sleepover with a 50 year old. Thank goodness for climate control. I wish I had it here.
