Construction, La Ceiba Style

I’ve watched many changes La Ceiba over the last five years, some good and some not but I am constantly fascinated by the very basic approaches that are taken to accomplish various projects, large and small.

I’ll also admit to a certain macabre fascination at the lack of safety, health and environmental standards that I have witnessed. I’ve done a fair amount of construction myself therefore have some experience with the health and safety requirements of the workplace in Canada. All I say is that if any of “our” standards were imposed here, nothing would be accomplished! Yes, I do believe that there should be improvements to protect the workers but at the same time I still have to admire the sheer audacity of how things are done here.

















There was the day that I stopped for photographs of the men who were taking a large limb off of one of the trees in the Central Park Square. This is a very busy part of the downtown core and there were no barricades or crowd control, as you can from the men sitting in the bench watching with some trepidation. Myself, I was impressed that the workers were using a ladder and had also tied a rope to said limb in order to control the fall. Yet the worker in the tree was using only a machete to chop his way through the limb, non grip sole shoes and no gloves. Thankfully, the mission was successful with no injuries!










One enterprising individual decided to build a street side vendor stall, brought in his supplies and started his construction, right in the midst of the busy street life of the market in full swing. I have a real fear of electricity and simply couldn’t believe the casualness of his standing above ground, his hammer and various overhead lines tucked under his elbow as he positioned the roof brace.














The cement was mixed on the street and the structure simply lifted up and placed into coffee cans of concrete in order to both brace it and to prevent its “accidental” removal. This stall was completed the following day, with its “for rent” sign and in the month following its completion, I have yet to see it used.










There is a phenomenal amount of concrete construction all over La Ceiba and on one of the busier downtown core streets I’ve watched a two storey building progressing over the last two months.



Concrete is mixed in a pile right on the street surface and carried in 5 gallon buckets or wheelbarrows to where it is needed, building debris is piled on the sidewalk or street, supplies are piled wherever there is space and life continues in and around the construction site with no consideration for pedestrians or traffic. You can see the roasted corn vendor who has maintained his working space right at the edge of the building site, complete with airborne debris and his food sales are probably booming given the proximity to the work site.

The men work in whatever clothing or shoes they possess, I have rarely seen work gloves and have never seen a hardhat on a construction site. There are no safety harnesses, telescoping ladders, power tools and only the most rudimentary hand tools. Yet, these projects are completed!

Street Vendor's Reality

I have a friend in La Ceiba, whose name is Marcos and he is a 46 year old Honduran who works for a living selling small goods on the street. Marcos is one of the more fortunate street vendors. He is pretty much fully bilingual, a practising Christian that in five years I have never seen (nor heard of) take a drink of alcohol, smoke a cigarette, use illegal drugs, swear or express a violent thought or threat. He has been raised with courtly “old fashioned” manners, is fastidious about his clothing and person hygiene and has always treated me as a proper “lady” regardless of my choices to enjoy a beer or smoke a cigarette in public. Sadly, he is also becoming increasingly deaf with no medical assistance.

There are many other street vendors who sell CD’s and DVD’s; women who sell hand towels and sandals; children selling packets of gum; young and old men who dangle their handfuls of shell, coral or coconut shell jewellery; elders who sell hair clips, school supplies and small household items arranged on a board to be hand carried with extra items in their backpacks or plastic shoulder bags.

There are the Garifuna women who walk about with large plastic tubs carried on their heads, of coconut breads and candy, casaba or fresh coconuts whereby they machete them open, plunk in a straw and you can drink the watery milk. There are also the vendors, of all ages, that sell food, drinks and snacks at the bus depots throughout the city.

Marcos’ self employment as a street vendor means that he walks miles, daily, in order to meet up with more prosperous folks and attempts to sell them watches, belts, wallets, perfumes, and the occasional oddity like a photo frame clock or new tennis shoes.

This system works whereby the vendor will buy an item like a watch for 150 lp and then attempt to sell it for as much as 250 lp; a leather wallet will cost 80 lp with a resale value of 150 lp; perfumes or aftershaves 50 lp for resale at 80 lp. Got the idea, folks?

Well, add in the reality that these street vendors walk miles every day in either the heat, humidity or rain of La Ceiba, to cover their circuits of bars, eateries, markets, tourist gathering places and any other potential buyer sites, putting on their public persona of being genial, reasonably low key marketers who constantly face varying degrees of mild to incredibly rude refusals.

Now add in the fact that there are usually a very small number of potential buyers and the additional fact the majority of these few potential buyers always try and barter down the price.

This is how these people attempt to earn enough money every day to buy a meal, a soda, a bed to sleep in that night, support others in their families, as well as enough money to make up for the days when there are no sales, no buyers and horrendous weather that keeps even them hunkered down indoors, some place, any place.

Marcos had his house broke into (the fourth time that I know of in the last three years) last month and literally had every piece of clothing, foot wear, small personal goods and all of his vending materials stolen. He explained to me that it was the people who steal to buy drugs who did it and that there are many of them in his neighbourhood. His only solution was to hope to be home another time when they broke in again, remember who they were and report them to the police.

He was also as close to totally defeated as I have ever seen him. Left with absolutely no potential of retrieving his personal goods, no goods to sell to buy a meal for the day, no decent clothes or shoes to work in, absolutely nothing but what he was wearing on his back. He is also a proud man who has never asked me for a single lempira in the whole time I’ve known him, even refusing my offers to buy him a soda while we are visiting if he has just eaten and is full or so he says. Needless to say, I did slip 100 lp out of my wallet while we were talking, fold it up small and slip it into his hand simply saying “a little something to help, Marcos.”

The reason why I am writing this is that there are some gringos here who are grossly misinformed enough to make comments stating that “these people have no interest in working for a living”; “they’re all lazy”; “you can’t do anything to help because they just don’t care” and other equally racist statements. I no longer try to educate those stupider than myself; I refuse to discuss their opinions and frequently resort to saying simply “just watch, could you do that and for how long?”

There’s a lot more behind the scenes of the waving palm trees and beach sand in La Ceiba.

PS It’s been a month now and Marcos has managed to acquire enough goods to start selling and supporting himself again. No thanks to anyone but his own indomitable spirit!

Garbage AKA Basura

Over the past years, I’ve spent many, many hours walking simply everywhere in La Ceiba and with my curious greedy eyes I see a lot of the small details of daily life.

Garbage is a huge problem here in the city and on the beaches. The Hotel Majestic in Colonia La Alhambra has two 45 gallon barrels out front for their garbage and by collection day, you can’t see the barrels for everything that is either bagged up or spread loose around them.

Sadly it’s common to see a commercially sponsored half barrel labelled “Basura” that is empty while the ground six feet around it is completely obliterated with plastic and paper trash. You find it stacked in and on top the raised bins for collection, strewn on the ground, blowing down the roadways, dumped in alleys and ditches, stacked at the edges of the railway tracks, piled on the boulevards, simply and literally everywhere.

Canada has a reputation in Honduras for being a clean country that people regard with appreciation and I try to explain that children are taught from an early age that garbage is to be contained and that littering, the act of dropping small bits on the ground, is actually against the law. Frequently, this is met with that polite but quizzical look of mild disbelief and the conversational topic is changed. There is absolutely no educational process whereby the majority of people are taught to keep garbage contained for health and ascetic reasons.

By the same token, many people who are working, middle class and higher social strata work diligently, daily, to keep their homes, courtyards and boulevards as clean as any you could hope to find anywhere.

In the downtown areas, I have frequently seen the small armies that of solitary women with their push brooms and long handled whisk pans who sweep the curb sides of the main streets. Some even have their two wheeled garbage bins with bags and brooms tucked along side that they trundle along on their specific circuits.

I am not certain, but I believe these women receive a very small pittance from the municipality with the hope of monetary assistance from the business owners that their cleaning areas cover. Needless to say, these are the extreme of the lowest working class earners.

There is also a municipality organized schedule of garbage pickup in the various areas of La Ceiba. I have learned that my barrio, Colonia La Alhambra has their pickup day on the Tuesday of the week and have watched the process.

It’s an open back 5 ton truck, wooden sided with no back gate with a driver, two or three “runners” and two more workers right in the back of the truck. The truck drives along slowly while the runners grab huge bales, bags and oversized plastic barrels of trash and force or throw them up into the back of the truck. The workers in the truck then try to force it forward and on top of what is already there. None of these workers have safety boots, work or rubber gloves, masks or sometimes even long pants. No rakes to bundle up whatever has come loose, so it stays behind on the ground.

This past year I’ve noticed that there is now a market for scrap metal and some form of recycling for plastic bottles and aluminium cans which now means that there are more people digging through the trash that is put out, looking for said items. It also means that the actual garbage collectors are opening bags and going through them (bare handed!) to separate out those items that could be sold for cash.

Yes, it’s an incremental step towards an effort to recycle and curb garbage but sadly at this early stage of the game, it only makes the problem worse with even more loose garbage spread about willy nilly.

Lemonadia

One of the advantages to a very slow paced life here in La Ceiba is the simple fact that there is time. Time to watch sunrises with a morning coffee, time to sit and watch drunken butterflies stagger by, time to simply wash your soul clean of all foolish stresses and nagging concerns that plague so many of us up north and sadly, even here.

One thing it also means is that I’ve got the time to wonder and explore and follow up on my little curiosities in life. My latest adventure was to wake one morning to the most delicious scent and following my nose, I opened the main door to the patio and soon made my discovery.

It was something light, delicate and mildly orange-citrus and I finally tracked it down to coming from the neighbours’ tree which just crests the patio wall. It’s covered with new clusters of tiny white flowers, bursting with gnats, flies and butterflies all feeding franticly and home to a number of my favourite little green lizards. It really reminded me of the smell of the mock orange from the house in Canada.

Dona Lucy, who takes quite a level of amusement with me and my wonderment, informed me that it was called “Lemonadia” as she noticed me hanging over the edge of the patio, snapping photos. As I kept repeating, “lemonadia, lemonadia, lemonadia” to myself (one to remember the name and secondly to pronounce it properly) she had another of her giggling episodes, shaking her head at this childlike middle aged woman who drifts through life at the top of her house.

One thing that I have noticed it that this tree seems to have a monthly cycle of new blossoms that last about 3 days is full effect, completely wither and fall over the next couple days, continues to produce shiny new leaves and then starts its blossoms all over again the following month.

Just one of the little things I’ve learned recently!

Sunsets on the Caribbean Sea

I admit that I have a slight fetish with photographing sunsets over the Caribbean Sea but for those who share the same passion, enjoy!

Sunset series from the Tranquillo Bar, Utila, Bay Islands, taken in February 2008.

Series taken at Zona Viva Playa, during Semana Santa, March 18th, 2008

Sunsets at Miramar Playa, March 16th, 2008

One of my own favorites, taken from the La Ceiba dock January 5th, 2008!

What I learned at the Immigration Office in La Ceiba

I’ve been following a number of discussions involving Canadians and Americans who have moved to Honduras, plan on living here permanently and thus want to become legal residents. Needless to say, there is a high level of bureaucratic paperwork that must be accomplished, with the assistance of a Honduran lawyer. There have been stories whereby the process has gone on for upward of three years, with thousands of dollars spent and in some cases, they are no further ahead than when they started.

We all know the difficulties of dealing with paperwork, government officials and changing laws or political parties but I dare say that Honduras must lead the race in mass confusion and arbitrary interpretation of said laws. Notice that I haven’t even used the word corruption, which is a well known fact of life when dealing with bureaucracy here!

I have never considered becoming a resident of Honduras, as I am unwilling to invest in business, purchase a home, drive a vehicle or stay here year round. I’ve too many friends and family that I love to see when I return to my first home in Canada! At the same time, I do regard myself as a law abiding person, and especially in a foreign country, I want to do everything I can to stay within the laws of the country I’m in. Remember my philosophy of life being good, if you keep it simple?

As a visiting tourist to Honduras, I am granted a 90 day visa when I pass through Immigration on arrival in San Pedro Sula airport. Therefore, since I insist on staying four months every year, I realized I was going to have to go to the local Immigration office in La Ceiba, to purchase a one month extension. Sounded like something I could get accomplished, especially as I thought ahead and brought along a Spanish speaking friend just in case the clerk didn’t or wouldn’t speak English.

We arrived at 10am, the appointed time for the clerk to be available and proceeded to spend the next full hour standing in line. There were only three other people ahead of me so I foolishly kept thinking that it really shouldn’t take long. I counted 6 people after me, not counting the 5 that gave up and left and the number that just looked in and decided to try again another day.

The good news is that the young woman spoke perfect English and in the course of two to three minutes explained to me that she couldn’t help me. The laws had been changed last year and I could only purchase an extension in the capital city of Tegucigeulpa. She also proceeded to show me the schedule of the fines that will be imposed when you do try to leave the country and since I’m going to be 28 days over, I’ll be fined 1,946 Lp. That is just over $100 US funds and I am simply furious. The fines schedule also makes it cheaper the longer you overstay your visa, so there is no incentive for attempting to obey the law!

Every single centavo that a tourist or expatriate spends in this country is absolutely free money to the whole economy here. I admit that I live very well by local standards and will wager I spend close to $500 a month between rent, necessities and entertainment. I’m left feeling that the Honduran politicians have decided that they aren’t making enough money from us and quite frankly are using a machete to cut off their noses to spite their face. My $100 of spending value could do a lot more in actual benefit to individuals than they will ever see from the government here and I resent being held hostage to any bureaucracy!

I apologize for this rant! But it honestly appears to me that the present government is making it more difficult for those from wealthier countries to be able to come here and simply live. It is one more example of mindless government and when you consider the depth and severity of the problems for people here, surely their energies could be better directed.

And in no way, shape or form does my opinion of Honduran government change my true feelings of respect and appreciation for the majority of the Hondurans that I meet every day!

Stephanie's Ceviche Recipe

I will never profess to be a teacher of any merit but I do enjoy cooking and wanted to share one of my favourite dishes with folks. Keep in mind, I don’t actually use recipes and have not been known for measuring ingredients. My approach is rather akin to aim and fire, with tasting along the way!

Ceviche is basically marinated seafood mixed with vegetables and spices, served with crackers as a side dish. I happen to love it with fresh salad and good rye bread.

Ingredients:
4 Roma tomatoes
1 small field cucumber
1 small jalapeño pepper
1 medium red onion
4 large cloves garlic
1 bunch culantro (cilantro is much tastier!)
1 -2 fresh limes, juiced
1 lb large shrimp, cleaned and rinsed

Add a couple dashes of salt, pepper and chilli (hot sauce) to taste and a pinch of cayenne pepper to marry the flavours.

Finely mince the garlic, pepper and cilantro. Fine chop the remaining vegetables.
Dip the shrimp into boiling water, stir quickly, remove and rinse in cold water.
Chop the shrimp into halves or thirds, depending on original size.
Mix all ingredients together, adding more seasonings to your own taste.
Allow to marinate in refrigerator 3 – 4 hours before serving. Enjoy!

Street Adventures during Easter Week

I tend to regard even the simplest events as a potential for adventure and La Ceiba certainly provides me with ample opportunities to witness the curiosities of life! An ordinary walk into El Centro to purchase fresh food in the market can present some amazing moments in life.

One day it was a live band on a street corner raising money for a local charity, complete with the sound system plugged into an extension cord from a nearby shop. Another time it was the police truck that had rear ended a taxi thus closing St. Isidro, a main artery through town, for over an hour.

Two years ago it was witnessing the Hotel Los Angeles burning to the ground and watching the crowds and fire fighters and National Guard. That was also the day that I decided to never leave the apartment without my camera again!

During this year’s Easter Week (Semana Santa) I spotted a wandering band of Garifuna men and boys, all dressed as women, some with shocking Halloween type masks and all carrying empty plastic jugs and small wooden sticks. I stood back across the intersection and pulled out my trusty digital camera and started taking these pictures as I watched them accost pedestrians and vehicles that came near.

They were banging on their jugs, dancing up and down, waving and shaking their arms though didn’t seem to be actually frightening anyone. Then I noticed that they were given small lempira notes or coins, stuffed into their plastic containers and the pedestrian or vehicle was freed, so to speak. They swarmed a number of vehicles as I watched, with one passenger even taking photos and then charged off down the street to another location.

Later that same day, I met up with a few members of this original “tribe” and was able to get some wonderful close up shots of the costuming and masks. These men were quite pleased to see the photos on the monitor but wouldn’t explain why or what they were doing, except to have me make a donation! Which I did rather happily as they gave me the photos; a good exchange in my eyes!

I have always wondered the “why” of this business of (most definitely male!) young men dressing as women and think I’ve found an answer. It appears to be a modern day equivalent of an original Garifuna fighting tactic; taken from a war dance whereby the men wore brightly coloured masks, layers of women’s clothing and would present themselves to their opponents as wildly suggestive women, dancing most invitingly before pulling out their weapons (from under their skirts!) and attacking. Talk about shock value!

Needless to say, I could be completely wrong but the tie to their original history makes sense to me.