Momma Went Shopping!

The heat can do strange things to a person’s mind and maybe I’ll blame this latest little adventure on mild heat exhaustion… I’m somewhat surprised with myself but know that my mid 20’s daughter will take great delight in hearing about her Momma’s shoe buying frenzy.

She is a delightfully feminine woman, with a serious fetish for shoes – brilliant red stilettos with swingy skirts, multi coloured sparkly flats with shorts and a camisole, high heeled leather boots with long legged denim jeans – you name it, she’s got just the right pair of shoes for any outfit. Now, don’t get the wrong impression – she’s also an intelligent, successful career woman and mother; we don’t have “bimbos” in our family!

La Ceiba is a woman’s shoe fetish paradise with the most outrageous creations offered in windows, shops, in the streets and in pickup trucks all over the town. I’ve seen everything imaginable from hideously high, brilliantly coloured heels, to rather sensible basic black or brown loafers to sandals that would confuse a carpet weaver with its assembly of laces and clips fastening them and flip flops of every colour of the rainbow and even with high heeled soles.

I’ve watched the young, and not so young, women stride, stagger, lurch or tippy toe about town wearing their stylish footwear and grimace to myself about the level of pain and/or damage they are doing to themselves and their feet all in the name of fashion.

I admit, in my 20’s I was rather typical and went for the high heels when truly dressing up but that was such a rare occurrence, certainly not more than half a dozen times a year, that I didn’t do any lasting harm. I spent a number of years working in construction trades and learned to love my steel toed leather work boots (especially after they started making them in small women’s sizes) and wore them constantly for work, hiking and just general walking around in a small northern town.

Now that I’ve been living in La Ceiba for a number of years, I’ve developed a habit for sturdy open toe sandals, both to accommodate miles of daily walking and a severely arthritic back. They aren’t pretty by any stretch of the imagination, are purely utilitarian in purpose and I actually regard them as an orthopaedic assistance (trying to keep myself from hating the look of them so much!)

I have been needing to replace a worn out pair of sandals, stalling and procrastinating because I really hate shopping for clothes or shoes and had been half heartedly looking around town for a replacement pair. I snapped yesterday, girded my loins and forced myself out to the Mall in hopes that someone, somewhere, would have one single pair of flat, comfortable, walking sandals for me to purchase.

I honestly believe that the fashion police took pity on me…. Everywhere I went there were outrageous sales, a wide variety of flats and even some fun colours to choose from! I may not have found sensible sandals but I’ve got enough pairs of shoes (that I can walk comfortably in) to last me for hundreds of miles in my waunderings through La Ceiba. All in all, prices ranged from under $10 to a high off $30 (no discount on the sturdy walking shoes!) so I’m well set for quite some time for under $100 USF and most especially won’t have to face the ordeal of shoe shopping for quite some time to come!

I also admit that I won’t be wearing the red high heeled sandals for more than brief moments at a time, but simply couldn’t resist. Daughter will be proud of my “girl attack” and I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that she’ll be “borrowing” them if I bring them back to Canada with me!

Relief From the Heat aka River Picnic Days

You know it’s hot when the locals comment on it, when the gringos (and others!) climb into story books under fans or air conditioners and whole Honduran families from grandmothers to babies take themselves out to the various rivers for the day.

I’m very fortunate and have been invited to go out to various river picnic sites with my own Honduran family here. One Sunday we went to the Quebrada Zacate and found the most amazing series of waterfalls after a long drive on a very rough trail, following a suspiciously dry creek bed. What a joy and blessing to be able to swim and splash and simply float in very cold water!

 

Another Sunday we went to a picnic site on the river just below Pico Benito Lodge and joined the fun with all the other families out relaxing and cooling off from the heat. At one point I brought a huge plastic container of watermelon slices down to the shallow pools and we wound up floating it from one person to the next as we sat in waist deep water, wiggling our toes, luxuriating in the deliciously cool, clean waters and seeing who could spit watermelon seeds the furthest!

That was also the very same day that the power went out at 6am, turning off my huge fan at the base of my bed – not a comfortable way to start the day as the temperature in the bedroom was still 34C even with the fan on overnight. We finally arrived home just before 6 pm that night, fully expecting the power to be turned on after the 12 hour scheduled maintenance shutdown. The apartment was sweltering, with no breeze and even the cold water shower wasn’t cold as the cistern had heated up to very warm temps during the day!

The power came on but very, very briefly – which was the ultimate in cruelty in my books! The fridge has been off all day, so even though I got a free defrost cycle out of it, there was nothing cold to drink! Sticky, soaked in sweat, feeling quite out of sorts about the heat (which never happens to me!) I decided to take my chair out front, on the second storey patio, to see if I could possibly coax a breeze in off the Caribbean.

No such luck. So I waited, swatting various bugs as they landed on me and listened to the silence of my barrio. Some folks had lit candles in their homes or patios, some folks were just out visiting in the complete darkness, the older teens were hanging out on the wall at the corner and everyone was simply waiting for relief.

I could see lights on the south side of La Ceiba, but our barrios of Miramar, Maestros and La Alambre were still completely darkened. There were no street lights, no house lights and only the occasional passing vehicle head lamps provided any illumination to our little corner of the world.

Simultaneously the lights came on and the cheering erupted! What a glorious relief to be able to turn on my fan, crank up my fridge and hope that the system could handle the surge! Now I truly understand why the locals cheer when the power comes back again….

Baby, It's HOT Out Here!

Oh, my goodness gracious – I think I’ve finally discovered what true summer weather is like in La Ceiba, Honduras….

Generally, I leave by the middle of April in order to go north and start preparing gardens for our cool 60 day growing season but this year I made up my mind to stay for La Ceiba’s Carnival held the third weekend in May. I’ve witnessed Semana Santa a number of times but have always heard about the outrageousness of Carnival and want to experience a small taste of it for myself. But I digress…

I’ve become accustomed to the apartment ranging from 30C to 35C during the days but got curious about what the temperatures were out in the full sun. As you can see from the photos this is extremely hot!

It’s the heat. It envelopes your body, leaving you with a most unattractively slippery persona and completely numbs your brain; your wrists stick to the keyboard, the mouse pad gets soaked and the laptop attempts to overheat and shut itself down. You shower innumerable times during the day to get the stickies off, change and wring out clothing countless times and loose all sense of motivation for the basics of life like cooking, eating, moving or carrying on a conversation.

The heat is indescribable if you haven’t lived in the tropics and survived it yourself. The world feels like it has slowed to an incredibly marginal pace, the noise levels drop to barely noticeable levels, the concrete streets radiate BTU’s and you feel like you are living in your own personal, body encompassing sauna no matter how loose or marginal your clothing is.

Yet life continues, with children going to school, women cooking, doing laundry and housework, buses running their routes, taxi’s cruising by, pulperias taking deliveries and making sales, vendors walking the streets selling goods and construction workers mixing concrete in the street. Surviving the heat is new to me and I’m very fortunate to have an extremely basic life style but I am amazed by the resilience of the locals. Life simply goes on, with folks seeming to take it in stride, albeit much more slowly than usual.    

There’s a lot to be learned about developing a level of acceptance and patience with reality if you’re going to be living here! But in the meantime, I’m going to make another jug of icy lemonade; hmm, maybe it’s 5:00 somewhere and the beer is cold now…..

Gooooooooaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll …………….

It’s official. I am now truly Honduran; I have become a full fledged “futbal” freak in flying colours here in La Ceiba thanks to a friend who invited me to a live game and, well the rest is history….

Even getting to the stadium before the game is an adventure combining crowds of folks and families flowing down the centre of the blocked off main street, men trying to park vehicles in the open areas, the police trying to keep an eye out for trouble, vendors flogging souvenirs, scalpers hustling for ticket sales and all of this happening at the level of a loud, happy street party, complete with music blaring! Only in Honduras, my dear friends….

There are three distinct sections to the stands inside the stadium – the west side (which is shaded for afternoon games and thus more expensive), the north side for the overactive high energy fans and the east side (the cheap seats with sun in your eyes until almost 6pm). You are accosted by scalpers at the approach to the stadium which is the entrance for the shaded seats at 120 Lp for men (only 70 Lp for women – what, we don’t like futball?) but if you follow the road around the stadium, the seats are only 50 Lp, with no distinction for gender.

There is such a crush of bodies all flowing into the small doorway, with their tickets at the ready; the armed police visually checking everyone for guns, bottles or other instruments of harm and suddenly you are in the bowels of the concrete stadium surrounded by smoking food stalls, vendors, beer and soda sellers, hot dog stands and that same crush of bodies that entered with you. If you don’t like noise, crowds or unexpected intimacy with strangers, this is most definitely the wrong place for you to be!

La Ceiba has two major teams - that I know of; please keep in mind that I am grossly uninformed about the game, the teams, the language and everything else to do with this great game of soccer. On April 11th there was a game between “Vida”, sponsored by the Salva Vida beer company and “Victoria” who is sponsored by a local milk company, Leyde. The Vida fans wear bright red shirts and the Victoria fans wear blue and white colours and are actually referred to as “lecheros”, the milk men.

Not knowing anything about the game, the standings or statistics or the teams I simply chose to support the Vida team – Salva Vida is a good beer and I don’t drink milk – simple choice as far as I was concerned. We wound up sitting in a Vida cheering section, surrounded by folks wearing red and ferociously chanting “Vida, Vida, Vida” and there is so much happening in the stands with all of the fans, that I kept forgetting to actually watch the game.

Vendors come through the stands selling everything – beer and soda in paper cups, pizza slices, tipico meal plates, pastry, trajadas in a plastic bag with chopped red cabbage and lime slices overtop, and chewing gum with all of the vendors calling out their wares overtop the sounds of the fans screaming, roaring and blowing small plastic horns that are loud enough to pass as compressed air horns! (These are also for sale by passing vendors…..)
The south section fans set up roars of chants, instigating choreographed leaps and waves of bodies moving in opposing directions; and also do their part in denigrating an opposing team’s goal scoring by hurling rolls of toilet paper over the chain link fencing to fly through the air and literally paper the playing field.

Vida did score in the first half and when play resumed, there was a gang of young men “the lecheros” dressed in blue and white who set themselves up in the Vida cheering section and proceeded to leap up and down and bellow out their chants much to the displeasure of us Vida supporters. It didn’t take long for our section to begin roaring “Vida, Vida” with fists punching into the air above our heads in order to drown their chants out. And then Vida scored the second goal of the game and people went wild!

Suddenly there were bags of water and paper glasses of beer and soda being hurled at the lecheros and I even saw a few umbrellas being raised overhead in self defence by non participants of this latest endeavour in basic mayhem. I even got christened, literally, by someone’s beer and may well consider bringing my own umbrella next time!

The game was still continuing and I really did try to pay attention to the actual play but as I said earlier, there was just so much else going on. The finale to the evening’s outrageousness was an unbelievable fireworks display set off in the empty south end bleachers while the game was finishing up and the noise level was phenomenal! I now understand why I can hear roaring crowds and fireworks from the stadium on game nights, all the way across town in my barrio.

One last moment of shock on my part was the armed police charging through the stands, chasing and capturing renegade lecheros, who I imagine had finally pushed the limits of good fun.

So the end scoring of the evening was Vida – 2, Victoria – 0 and the police – 5! All this good fun for only 50 Lp ($2.50 Can) – only in La Ceiba friends – and I did go back the following week for an excellent game of Vida vs Marathon, which ended in a 2 all tie but still managed to keep Vida in the semi finals for the next game.

Placencia, Belize: A Tourist's Paradise!

Here’s the rest of the story about my “visa stamp” visit to Placencia, Belize….

I finally arrived, just after dusk on Monday, Mar 15th, after a long day of travels and my first impressions of the village are really just a blur as I blindly followed my new friends from Minnesota from the dock to their hotel.

Thankfully there was a room available at the Seaspray Hotel as I wasn’t up for any more adventures that day. This was also my awakening to how expensive everything was going to be as I was charged $96 BZ (remember that the Belize dollar is 2 for 1 USF) for a comfortably large room with a private bath, a fridge and hot running water – I can tell you, that hot shower was glorious after such a day!

Dan & Destiny invited me to join them for dinner, just next door at “De Tatch” and over a couple of the local “Belikin” beer and a great Jerked Shrimp dinner we shared stories with each other. This was their first time vacationing in Central America and they were quite amused when I asked if they had “got the bug yet?” It certainly appeared that they were having a great time discovering Placencia and surrounding areas and already planning as to when they could return again.

Needless to say, with a full belly and a clean bed waiting for me, it was an early night for me. Somehow, I keep forgetting that I’m not as young as I used to be!

Early Tuesday morning was a special treat for me as De Tatch opened at 7am, so I was able to get a big mug of coffee and curl up at a beach table to soak in the sights and sounds of the Caribbean Sea filling my horizon. Placencia stretches along a crescent shaped section of clean beach, with both ends remaining fairly forested. There’s quite a collection of commercial and private residences tucked in along the beach and poking their multi coloured roofs above the trees.

The day’s priority was to find a cheaper hotel since I was working with a fairly non existent budget so off I went to explore. One of Placencia’s claims to fame is the fact that one of its two main streets is actually a concrete sidewalk that stretches from one end of the village to the other. Everything is built on sand, so this was a bit of a relief for me as walking in sand is still pretty tiring for the re-built hip. What a treat it was to be able to waunder along barefoot, following little trails between houses to find John’s Bakery, various gift stores and yes, the hotels I was actually supposed to be looking for.

I found “Omar’s Guesthouse” that had been listed in a very old copy of Lonely Planet and had a pleasant chat with an older man named Pine about a room. Sadly, the price was right at 40 BZ a night, but this ramshackle two-storey wooden place had seen better days, a very long time ago. Going back along the sidewalk, I had a delightful visit with Sharm, the clerk at “Evan’s” and was amazed at their huge full kitchen private suites for 130 BZ (discounted to 100 BZ if I was to stay three nights) and I stopped briefly at the “Cozy Corner” with their fully equipped rooms at 109 BZ but couldn’t face the thought of living right over their busy bar and restaurant. I trekked out to the opposite end of said sidewalk and made inquiries at “Lydia’s Guest House” which was offering a private room with patio hammock, hallway bathroom and a communal kitchen for only 40BZ a night.

I wasn’t terribly certain that I wanted to stay at the far end of the village so strolled along the sidewalk yet again to find that there was a room available at “Julie & Lawrence’s Guest House” and readily accepted it. It was still a little high for my budget at 80 BZ a night, but the room was large and came with a fridge and coffeemaker, hot water shower and my own little patio complete with a great hammock! All within sight and sound of the beach and sea….

Days were spent merrily making new friends like Denise & Wendy at the “Pickled Parrot Pizza, Bar & Grill”, discovering ham & cheese flat bread breakfast creations at “John’s Bakery” and stopping and visiting with numerous Mayan women or local Garifuna artisans. The Mayans set up their tables or blankets along the sidewalk (remember, this is a main street!) and display their woven baskets, hematite jewellery and various other art works of painstaking detail. A number of younger men and women also simply walk throughout the village with their back pack, politely ask if you would like to see their work and if you accept, simply (and very efficiently!) shake out a small cloth and, their hands working like magic, instantly set out their various goods.

The weather remained fairly cool (at least for me, the acclimatized Honduran!) but it only rained the one night and most days the stiff breeze blew the clouds off for afternoon episodes of sunshine. I walked the beaches, collected sea shells, took hundreds of photos and generally played at being a tourist. I was really surprised at the number of Canadians I met who live & work there, are building to retire there or were returning over the years to continue their appreciation for living in this little corner of paradise.

I inadvertently wound up operating as a tourism assistant as Julie’s place was full, so I was able to share my new found hotel information with various backpacking fellows, a couple of young women travelling together and even two fairly affluent North American couples who were making their own inquiries.

There is quite a variety of Caribbean and international food available and I tried to sample as many as possible! Wood fired, thin crust pizza at “Tony’s”, conch fritters and a gorgeous green salad at the Pickled Parrot, the Jerked Shrimp at De Tatch, the Curried Prawns at Pirate’s Grill (which specializes in Caribbean Fusion, a new concept on me) to name a few of the best ones. Again, most meals ran about 25 BZ to 30 BZ and were big enough that I snacked merrily on leftovers.

It seemed that most bars specialized in “happy hours” whereby regular prices were either reduced or they offered mixed drinks at two for one, so as a purely economical restraint I visited a few of the many beach places in the later part of the day. The infamous parrot slightly pickled me one day while I was meeting so many Canadians and the “Tipsy Tuna” was great for meeting up with the various 20 to 30 “something” crowds of younger folk out to just have fun. Tony’s Pizza was a great place to sit and visit with a wide variety of “most ages” folks and had the distinct advantage of being a 20 second beach walk back to my patio at Julie’s.

Wednesday night at the Tipsy Tuna a local Garifuna band was featured and they shared their music and dance with the crowds both in the open bar and all along the beach as the drums echoed and the chanting voices carried strongly over the water throughout the night.

Thursday was spent verifying the D Express ferry schedule and pickup location, purchasing far too many jars of Belizian hot sauces, simply cruising the town taking photos and visiting with all kinds of friendly folks. I even discovered a thrift store – I have a knack for finding them in whatever country I’m in it seems.

Overall, it was a wonderful little vacation to a gorgeous sea side village and a novel way of ensuring that I can remain in Honduras with a legal visa without being forced to donate my fine money to the Honduran government. Two birds with the same stone!

Belize Visa Stamps: Plan A and then what really happened....

Plan A: Mirna Bus Lines from La Ceiba to San Pedro Sula
This actually happened, and pretty much as the schedule stated. The buses run from 5:30 am onwards, once an hour to San Pedro Sula (SPS) so I caught the 9:30 am, after a 20 Lp taxi to the Mirna depot located at the Shell station across from the Mega Mall in La Ceiba. Cost was 90 Lp, one way with a 15 minute break at Tio Dolmo and we arrived in San Pedro Sula at 12:40 pm at the main bus terminal cum mall.

After wandering marginally lost for a few minutes, I figured out that to find the “collectivo” buses, I needed to walk the full length of the mall, through the food court, take a right down the small escalator and the first left which delivered me to where I found what I was looking for!


Impala Express “collectivo” bus from SPS to Puerto Cortez
These are small van type buses, holding seats for approximately 34 – 40 people maximum (just guessing on passenger capacity – certainly NOT a retired school bus/ chicken bus!). The cost was 42 Lp and with the bus leaving at about 1pm we arrived in Puerto Cortez at 2:30pm, so this part of Plan A did actually happen.

I don’t know how long this trip actually takes as it’s only about 55 km in distance, but there were a few delays. Originally there was a rather extensive delay when the police roadblock not only stopped us but 1) had all men go outside and get searched, 2) had one officer come into the bus and search every bag and parcel and 3) appeared to believe that I (as the only gringa aboard) was completely invisible. The driver also did the usual pick up and drop off stops and gave us a rather drawn out tour of Puerto Cortez when we finally arrived there.

That’s where I resorted to Plan B ie Options… I did a fast 15 minute walk around the centre of Puerto Cortez, and though I love Honduras, I did not pick up a good feeling about this place.

       Chicken Bus
Puerto Cortez to Omoa

Back to the bus depot and onto a chicken bus to Omoa which is only 18 km away and is a totally different type of village! PC is a port city, industrialized, grubby, busy and tired at the same time. Omoa has its original village up along the highway, with more of it stretching about 1 ½ km down to the Bay of Omoa. The cost was 14 Lp, takes about 45 minutes and regardless of what Honduras Tips suggests about hiring a tuk tuk (15 Lp) at the highway stop, the chicken bus and collectivos will take you all the way down to the beach area of restaurants and hotels.

I stayed at “Roli’s Place” that night, as per Honduras Tips, but no matter how funky it is, it really is just a backpackers hostel. I paid 150 Lp for a private room, which was actually kind of like a one room tree fort and quite comfortably clean though the showers and bathroom were across the courtyard. That’s not for everyone!

Chicken Bus Omoa to Honduras/Guatemalan Border

You can choose to walk back up the highway (or take a tuk tuk taxi) and by sheer fluke I arrived in time to catch the 10am chicken bus to the “frontera”. Basically, the pick up stop is just past the main highway intersection and it’s easiest to just look for a group of folks waiting patiently at the side of the highway and join them.

The cost was 36 Lp and what with side trips into places like Cuyamelito, it took us 1 ½ hours to cover the 51 km to Corinto, near the actual border.

When you get off the bus you aren’t actually in a community or townsite but there are money changers who will exchange lempira for quetzals at a rate of 2.5 Lp to 1Q. From here you simply start walking the kilometre or so forward across the bridge and around the corner until you see the Immigration buildings in a widened area of the highway.

There is no charge to leave Honduras here – he simply stamped my passport and took out my white 90 day visa paper and I continued walking across the border to the two collectivo vans that were waiting on the other side.

Collectivo Van Guatemala Border to Puerto Barrias, Guatemala

The cost for this part of the adventure was 15 Q (38 Lp) and what with having to hand over non-regional passports for entry stamps, stopping for uniformed school children and sundry other delays, it took a full hour to arrive in Puerto Barrias at 1pm.

I had said that I wanted the boat to Belize, thus was dropped off on the main highway at a sign that said “Immigration 500 metres” and was pointing directly down towards the shoreline. About 4 blocks later I easily found the Immigration office, paid my $10 USF (80Q or 200Lp), received my stamps and went one block further to the Municipal Dock for the water taxi to Belize.

Water Taxi Puerto Barrias, Guatemala to Punta Gordo, Belize

There are “runners” here who will ask where you want to go and thus direct you to the correct boat, simply by its call name painted on the bow. The cost was $20 USF (160Q or 400 Lp) and the boat left at 2 pm so there was time to buy some takeout food and indulge in a single Guatemalan beer, a “Gallo” to the tune of 12 Q (30 Lp). After the days prior adventures, it was a welcome treat!

The boat is basically an open dory, with tarp roof, holding approximately 18 people and took 1 1/3 hours to reach the immigration dock at Punta Gordo, Belize. Calm seas and a pleasant ride through the harbour and across the Bay of Amatique.

Punta Gordo, Belize to Independence, Belize

Immigration in Punta Gordo was very conveniently located at the arrival dock and was casually efficient with very helpful personnel. I was asked if I was carrying any alcohol or tobacco to import (wasn’t) and they didn’t seem at all interested in either searching my bags or commenting on the (now somewhat soggily dripping) container of take out food that I had brought with me.

The “James Line” bus depot is the large green building two blocks to the right of the Immigration parking lot and there was a bus leaving at 4pm. The cost was $9 BZ ($4.50 USF, 90 Lp) and was a comfortable, not quite retired, school bus that took 1 ½ hours to reach Independence.

“Hokey Pokey” water taxi Independence to Placencia, Belize

This is where Plan A backfired, Plan B Options wasn’t available so wound up resorting to Plan C entitled “Uh, Oh!”… A critical point of information: the last water taxi to Placencia leaves at 5:30 pm. It is about a ½ km walk from the café/house bus depot near “Tony’s Super Store” (the large white building on the main road) down to the water taxi. Independence has almost no redeeming qualities and its only saving grace is that it is smaller the Puerto Cortez but equally uninviting.

Thankfully, there was a couple from Minnesota who were negotiating the hiring of a local boat, as they were staying in Placencia and had only been visiting in the Independence area for the day. I have no idea what the actual cost of the water taxi would have been since the gentleman in control had offered to take them over for 50BZ ($25 USF, 500 Lp) but I am certain that Hokey Pokey would have been both considerably less and much safer! I donated my 20 BZ to Dan & Destiny after we had arrived on the dock in Placencia after a harrowing 10 minute slewing rip through mangrove swamp channels and open water!

Thus I finally arrived in Placencia, Belize, after two days of travelling consisting of about 6 hours first day and 8 hours the second day, entailing transportation costs of 925 Lp (appr. $50 USF) with a Guatemala exit fee of $10 USF and hostel, beer and food costs running approximately 500 Lp (appr. $23 USF).

I spent 4 nights in Placencia, a beautifully clean and friendly tourism village stretched out between the beach and the harbour. I did find it expensive for my non existent budget, with mid range accommodations running about $40 USF per night, local beer and rums at $2.50 USF and restaurant meals going for $10 to $20 USF. I’ll write more later about places to stay and things to do while in Placencia.

The “D Express” water taxi from Placencia, Belize to Puerto Cortez, Honduras
The vessel leaves the dock at the Shell gas depot on the harbour side of the village at 9:30 on Friday mornings only. The cost is $55 USF and you must have your passport registered on the captain’s log sheet. We left a few minutes late, with almost 40 people and their gear loaded on board and drifted through mangrove swamp channels, arriving in Big Creek after 10 minutes.

There we proceeded to wait for the Immigration officer to arrive and set up his station on the hood of his car, in the dockyard parking lot. You will be charged $7.50 BZ ($3.75 USF) if you are a non-resident to leave Belize but the ticket you receive states that these funds are to be used for conservation/ecological purposes. More passengers joined us, and we finally left at 11am with a total of 41 passengers on board.

I won’t discuss this trip except to say that all was well until the last 45 minutes on entering Puerto Cortez. We saw dolphins and flying fish; saw occasional accidental cays out in the middle of seemingly no where and generally everyone had a reasonably comfortable ride. The seas were calm and though the skies were overcast, that simply prevented those riding outside from getting sunburned and we arrived in PC at 2:30pm about half an hour ahead of schedule.

That vessel is a horror show! It tipped, slewed, yawed and did everything but scream out in pain or rage as it fought its way into the harbour – and this was with calm seas!!! Then we got to the Laguna Bridge, which is the arrivals dock for said vessel and were immediately ordered to hand over our passports to a gentleman wearing a white shirted uniform, clutching a cheap plastic bag and providing no element of identification. There were policemen there who were searching all bags and suitcases, which I simply chose to walk past, numerous taxis and finally a gentleman with a pickup truck that was willing to take about 8 of us to the Immigration office somewhere in Puerto Cortez. Said gentleman then proceeded to hold us up for 50 Lp each, keeping in mind that a taxi, per person, is only 20 Lps. Welcome back to Honduras!

Thankfully the actual Immigration personnel were bilingual, and rather efficient given that their system consists of handing you a form to fill out in line, grabbing a stack of passports and calling out the person’s name to return it to them in their place in the line up and then digging through the remaining passports to find yours if you happen to be near the front of the line and arrive at the desk without one like I did. I was able to get my new 90 day visa for Honduras and didn’t have to pay any fees, so at least the original purpose of the whole trip was accomplished!

The majority of people who had arrived were actually en route to San Pedro Sula which meant that the taxi drivers were having a field day trying to scoop $50 USF from each passenger for the 55 km drive. I knew that the last bus of the day for Mirna bus lines left SPS at 3 pm, so simply decided to walk over to the central bus depot and stay in Omoa for the night.

If you turn right from the Immigration office (it’s on a corner) and walk up about 2 blocks, you’ll be at the main road where you turn right and continue about 3 blocks to the large Esso gas depot sign, cross the main road there and go up another 2 blocks and you’ll be at the central bus depot for the collectivos and chicken buses to SPS or Omoa.

I stayed the night in Omoa, met up with some great “transplanted” Canadians at Henry’s Sunset Playa and wound up just donating my bus fare as gas money to return to SPS the following day.

Therefore return transportation costs amounted to 2000 Lp (appr. $115 USF) exit fee of $7.50 BZ ($3.75 USF or 75 Lp) and lodging, food and drink of about 500 Lp ($23 USF).


Not counting my costs of actually staying in Placencia, Belize, (I’m almost afraid to do that tally!) I spent a total of 4400 Lp (appr. $230 USF) to avoid breaking the Honduran law by overstaying my visitor’s visa and having to pay the same government a 60 day fine of 3640 Lp.

I readily admit that it would have been cheaper (much cheaper!) to just pay the fine when I leave in May but at least now I can say I’ve done the circle journey, I’ve seen some amazing country, met some great people and have a wealth of incidental adventures to scribble about and a glut of photographs to edit some day soon!

PS Here's Henry's link http://www.playapantera.com/ -- Check it out if you're interested in staying in Omoa, need airport pickup or want to see the sights around this part of Honduras!

HHK: The Jungle School

My adventures, and learning curves, just keep continuing with friends from Helping Honduras Kids (HHK) and I’m so thankful for the opportunity to see the philosophy of love, hope, education and opportunity being practised so effectively by all involved!

On April 6th, I was taken out the Rio Cangrejal to visit the Jungle School – and before you come to any bizarre conclusions about its name; it really is tucked up high in the jungle, tenaciously clinging to the hillside, and with well over 100 concrete slab steps and filled tires providing the only access, it was yet another trek for me.

We arrived just as classes had ended for the day with the kids clustered along the hillside stairway, milling around in the kitchen and cafeteria or tidying classrooms and sweeping floors. This is an unbelievably beautiful setting – paradise for the eyes, literally – but I couldn’t help thinking of the sheer magnitude of the mechanics and engineering involved in accessing, building and maintaining this school and site.

Classes start at 7 am and go to around noon (I’m not sure of the exact end time) with a mid morning rice and milk break and a hot midday meal consisting of rice and/or beans, and occasionally fruit, vegetables or a bit of chicken, depending on donations. There are 77 children presently enrolled in the school program, but the meal program is extended to all siblings that accompany students, thus this program is feeding 100 children every day as no one is turned away. Sadly, this is generally the only meal of the day for these children and frequently fortified rice and beans are sent home with students to assist the family’s survival.

During my conversation with Angel Pacheco, I discovered that there are 17 children in the kinder program, with about 30 in the Grades 1 and 2 classes and the rest are spread throughout Grades 3 to 6. There are no registration or monthly fees and because the Jungle School is run as a private school, children actually attend every day unlike the public schools that are notorious for losing two to four months of class time every year. This may be the only truly free school in Honduras as HHK provides all books, supplies, uniforms, backpacks, medical care including vitamins and other needs; literally everything that these children need in order to achieve an education.

This also includes the firm guidance of the two teachers and the director of the school in establishing clear rules of behaviour and instilling a sense of pride in the student’s accomplishments. The teachers are greatly assisted by volunteers that come from all over the world for three month terms – whether they are licensed teachers or not, they just need to be committed to helping kids learn. Additionally, the teachers themselves benefit professionally from this support and assistance from the volunteers, so it’s truly a win-win situation for everyone involved!

The Jungle School is terribly overcrowded now that the 20+ children from the Hogar have joined the classes, so the Grades 5 and 6 students are using the central hall area as their classroom. Thankfully, construction of the third classroom has begun thanks to the San Diego volunteers who donated $3000 from fundraising and numerous hours hauling bags of sand and concrete blocks from the roadside all the way up those 100+ stairs to the building site. Thank goodness for all those strong, young bodies and happy souls! The estimated costs for completion of the third classroom are about $22,000 and as always, donations are always needed and welcomed.

The Jungle School is now in its third year and has had students graduate from Grade 6 and continue on to attend El Pital High School or the private Instituto del Rey and HHK continues to support these children as much as possible in order for them to complete their educations.

At the beginning, many of the children had never been to school or had no experience with routines, discipline or generalized cooperative behaviour which made teaching very difficult. Now, three years later, with the “no nonsense” rules imposed by Angel and Iris these children have truly turned the corner into becoming well behaved, responsible and respectful persons; traits that will further improve their chances of success in the future.

There is now a small community forming around the Jungle School as caregivers come to cook meals, learn to sew and bring their children with them to socialize, which in turn attracts others interested in educating their children. The new construction is providing paid employment for local men, the sense of community is easing the isolation of women and children and the volunteers who come to teach or work provide a window into the bigger world of experience and hope for the future of the local people.

I feel like the Jungle School is like a pebble tossed into a pond of water, the ripples keep continuing outward and thus more and more local people will benefit from this enterprise. I am very grateful to have been introduced to the great people, both teachers and students, of the Jungle School and know that my own life has been enriched. Thanks!