Not Something You See Everyday

There was a car driving down the road as I passed on my bicycle. The roof was caved in and there was no windshield. Two young women were driving. Ahhh, now that's not something you see everyday, I though to myself while zipping by. Only, it is...everyday.

But you don't see rain like this everyday. The kind where you feel like you're back standing under the waterfall. The kind where the world floods in the first few minutes, and the drainages on the roads fill up and then things flood even more. The kind where the lightning explodes overhead and splits to fill both halves of the sky.

Or grass that turns the world green overnight.

Or the June bugs that have invaded everything. The students collect them by the jar full, and they crawl and scamper over each other in an attempt to be on top, then to burry themselves again, and the kids throw them in your face like a dinner plate and I become very glad, once again, that I'm a vegetarian.

Or the fact that the people here believe every warning they hear. Friday was predicted a week in advanced to be the hottest day of the year, warning folks not to venture outside at 11 am or you will surely contract skin cancer. Schools all through the country closed, and a quarter of our kids stayed home and the weather was actually quite cold. And in Tegus, the people, now not working, took to the streets and no traffic could get through.

But I do see the sun. Everyday. And everyday I see the world waking up from the dry season we never really had, and the birds eating the mangos in the trees, and me eating the mangos from the trees. And everyone else, too. And everyday I see a little more of this little corner of the world I'm currently calling home.

Easter Carpets

There are strong religious traditions here in Honduras, but no time seems more important to the locals then Semana Santa, which is Easter week. It is the time of the year that everyone has vacation, and everyone with any money flocks to the beach. Don't plan on getting a reservation any time soon. If you can't go to the beach, you go to water: lakes, pools, rivers, natural springs on the side of the highway, anything, as long as it is water.


The beginning of the religious celebration is the creation of the carpets on Thursday night. Well after dark, they close off the main street of a given town (for me Copan Ruins)and designated families go out with their colored sawdust, paper forms, and a lot of good cheer. They turn the dirt road into a colorful display of art. These are on display until Sunday when the procession tromps over them.

Good Friday, the ceremonies also take to the streets, with sermons, song, and a procession led by a puppet Jesus on the cross. Don't plan on driving anywhere as they block the streets for hours. For me, having my car blocked in, and the main road to Copan being occupied, it turned into a good time to eat breakfast and check e-mail. Finally, Sunday the processions go over the colored carpets.

As everyone in the country goes on vacation, it is slightly harder to travel except in the well trod tourist path, and even there everything except the hotels will be closed on Friday and Sunday. And don't plan on buying alochol either. Ahhhh, vacation.

Returning to the Scene

April, 2007

August, 2006

Seven months into my stay here in Honduras, I returned to Copan Ruins. They've raised the price by 50%, and being Semana Santa there was a fair share of visitors, crowding the parking lot but only making a small dent on the site itself. The only other change was the land, starting to brown up for the dry season that should have started almost two months ago. But, instead the rain keeps coming, though not substantial,definitely unusual.