Some of the Funny/Cool Big Apple things we have seen/experienced:
- Cool drum/percussion show in the subway
- Heavy African American Statue of Liberty handing out ads
- Snow falling from the sky
- Countless awesome murals/graffiti
- An old above the ground rail system turned into a park.
- A $13,000.00 Chair that fits 4 people.
- Super cool dressed peeps (I not only need new clothes, but I need my funk back)
- Fun hats
- Juggle/accordion show in the subway
- $4.00 Absolute and tonic drinks (Happy Hour at The Magician in the East Village)
- Italian Delis
- A teeny tiny video in a hole in the floor at PS1 (an extension of MOMA)
- Being yelled at by a New Yorker
And
- Over $5.00 for a dozen eggs (mind you they were at a high end health food store and were organic, hormone-free, range feed, pedicured, cuddled and happy eggs).
February 3rd and still no jobs and no apartment. The adventure continues in the concrete jungle! We have friends, we have clothes, and we have a car…what more do we need?
Well, thanks to Patty and Nicole we actually have beds to sleep on. We are getting to know the hoods of Bay Ridge, Park Slope, Prospect Park, Carroll Gardens and Redhook really well. We already know where Home Depot, Ikea and Costco are (those are the places one usually thinks about when in NYC, right?) , but best of all we know how to find Fairway Market on our own now too!
We have also been gaining weight. The culprits are Middle Eastern, Malaysian, Vietnamese, Italian and Chinese food, not to mention New York Pizza, an abundance of cheeses, as well as impostor Sabrette hot dogs. But we have also walked a lot, through the East Village, Chelsea and the Meat Packing District in Manhattan and of course, a lot around Brooklyn.
Some of our extra-curricula activities are as follows: Jim went Time Square to see the Jimmy Fallon Show, he helped put up a weather station, he got a hair cut, and I have been to the doctors. Wait, I also had a “Play Date” with some Mommies. While the kids get toys from the trunk, the Mommy’s sip some wine and get drunk! We are so looking forward to exploring all of New York City and I am sure there will be fun stories to share.
Which brings me to the people of New York. First, I do not think I can ever go back to being called Don again! It is Daaaauuuun, please say it as it should be! Our experience has been that New Yorkers are nice! Okay there was that one day the Health Food Store guy was very agro, but he redeemed himself the next time we went.
We have not painted the town red yet because we are 1) enjoying just hanging out with our friends and their kids, and 2) I have been sick the entire time we have been here…4 weeks now…with the last week being the worse and not good for Jim either.
It was great staying with Patty, Rich and Cooper! I have finally been de-Wii’d! Seven year old Cooper de-Wii’d me! No matter how many times I said, “No,” Cooper did not quit asking. I caved in and now I have played on Wii, and I like it damn it! Okay, I do not like it as much as Cooper, but it was fun! Patty is a great tour guide, and as I have always known, a great drinking buddy. Yes, another reason why I have been so sick for so long. Patty, it is all your fault!
Next we crashed at Nicole, Chad, Aidan, Cammie and Maverick’s pad (the last two are of the feline variety). Aidan is one super adorable 2 year old…even though he is sick! Pobrecito! Between playing with Aidan and petting the cats, we barely had time to look for jobs! Although we did not have tons of time together, I really enjoyed having some lone girl time with Nicole here and there. And Chad had a chance to win the whole pot on our poker night!
We just moved into a funky little sublease in South Park Slope, Brooklyn, New York City, New York for 6 weeks, and with lots of PMA (positive mental attitude) we will have employment and a permanent place to live by the end of that time! Then we can make plans to go visit California! We are sad that our plans to go in January have not worked out. But for now we like our “hood-for-now” and how can’t we when our corner store has 1500 different kinds of beer for sale! And we like the snowy backyard!
Atlanta, GA – LIKE
Columbus, SC – BORING
SOUTH OF THE BORDER – LOVE
Fayetteville, NC – LIKE A LOT
Halifax, NC – LIKE (for Historical Factor)
Virginia Beach, VA – LOVE (The Glasiers)
Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York City, NY – LOVE
Our first two nights on the journey were in Atlanta: Big burgers; Port and PBR; MLK’s birth and resting places; cool old houses; good southern cooking; and one funky arsty hood!
Then we ended up in Columbus, SC for the night…and that is all I have to say about that!
With boring Columbus behind, the travel excitement was just getting started! I had been telling Jim about THE South of the Border ever since we started this l-o-n-g adventure August 25, 2008 and he finally got to see what my brothers, sister and I got to enjoy for years on every trip from Florida to New York and back to Florida again. Only this time it seemed even bigger! Is that possible? Yes, because there are 3 or 4 Pedros now! Is there anything better than giant gorillas, dinosaurs to ride and alligators biting your head? No. Really! We took photos to prove it! AND of course we had to stock up on some fire power; bottle rockets – giant ones, fire crackers – thousands of them, Bee Buzzers – tiny ones, Sparklers – large and neon, and let me not forget the Flying Lady Bugs – with report! Okay, maybe we got a little carried away for our Glasier New Year’s Eve Celebration supplies.
Back on the road again, we ended up staying in Fayetteville, NC for the night. A great medium size town with an adorable old downtown. We braved a walk up and down the street, in what we consider the bitter cold, the next morning checking things out as well as getting a coffee and a bite to eat at a funky cafe. We give Fayetteville two thumbs up!
Our last day of travels before hitting the Glasier’s pad in Virginia Beach, VA was short so we stopped off at the little Historical town of Halifax, NC. We even got a tour of a house that survived from the days of the American Revolution. Yeah right…sharing a room with my 3 brothers and sister would never have worked!
I finished high school in Virginia Beach and keep on going back, mostly because of Diana “Spinley Chops” Crowley Glasier! Besides a great New Year’s Eve celebration, we also hit a pirate exhibition, bought sweaters and winter coats, watched the Hangover on New Year’s Day, had hangover hamburgers, ate yummy Oysters Rockefeller and Clams Casino, played monopoly, cuddled doggies, and I got a hair cut.
Our New Year’s Eve consisted of a great Cuban dinner out, very loud fireworks and lots of them back at home, beer pong, yummy candy bar cake, the wearing of mustaches, funny jammies / Christmas sweaters, a champagne toast at midnight and live entertainment (Harrison can sing a mean song). Oh, I think the “boys” smoked some Central American cigars as well. Nothing like adult men sitting on the veranda just before midnight on New Year’s Eve teaching the youngin’s how to smoke a stogie.
There’s no place like home! There’s no place like home!
Seniors, cheap oysters and race cars…oh my!
Actually, going from Honduras to Florida is like going from Kansas to the Land of Oz. Some of the seniors in Florida could pass as munchkins! And let me see…Munchkin Land is probably Fort Lauderdale, Oz is probably Key West and the Wicked Witch of the West is Orlando (Sorry, it is way too Disney owns everything land). My Mom is Dorothy, of course, sweet as can be. My Step Dad is the Tin Man, in his no-nonsense kind of way. And their dog, Angel, is Toto too! Todd is the scarecrow…not because he is does not have a brain but because he is fun loving, and Wayne is the Lion…not because he is cowardly but because he had this huge afro in his early teens which reminds me of a Lion’s main! ;o)
The first city in the fantasy state of Florida we stayed in was South Daytona, the unknown next door neighbor to Daytona Beach, the home of the World’s Most Famous Beach and Nascar racing. It is not only home to Nascar and the World’s Most Famous Beach, but me too! I lived there between the ages of 6 and 16…three blocks from the beach!
We hung out at my parents house a lot, did some hanging with my nephew, Josh, and his crew. We saw a decorated boat Christmas parade on the river, went to Ponce Inlet to hang for a bit with Todd, we hit our first American dive bar with Wayne, went to the race track with the Glasiers, and had sangria with Sean and Candy in St. Augustine.
We also made our way down south heading towards OZ. We wanted to hang out with my niece Jenna who lives on Key West. Our first night away was in South Beach Miami in all its art deco splendor. The next day, before heading south again, we hit the Little Havana hood of Miami. Although, almost everyone speaks Spanish, Little Havana I am sure, looks nothing like the real Havana! It is an Americanized, big roaded, washed out version, not that I have been to Havana…yet! But even with that said, we had a nice cuban sandwich and tried mate soda for the first time!
Then we headed to the Keys, a set of many islands off the most southern part of Florida. Quite beautiful and nothing like the islands off the coast of Honduras. Well maybe, but super Americanized, which is both good and not so good. We spent a great afternoon with 17 year old and quite wonderfully beautiful Jenna and her friend, Simone. We (that being Jim and I only) ate oysters, conch fritters, and amazingly wonderful Gelato. Teen girls and their cute tiny little figures! No, they had lunch before we met up! We also fed Jim loves of pirates and lost treasures at Mel Fisher’s Museum. Where else in the world can you pick up and touch a gold bar that is over 300 years old? And how about buying a real piece of eight? Pretty cool. But I was a bit disappointed with how much Duval Street changed in just 6 years. Come on, Claire’s and Banana Republic? That is what a mall is made of…not the Land of The Conch Republic where The Conchs proclaim anything goes, you know lots of artsy types, individuals, piratesque peeps and so on. Banana Republic Clothing Store = individualism? But we did enjoy a pub or two on the Duval Crawl and we did have our fill of large oysters at Happy Hour prices ($6.00 a dozen), conch fritters and gator bites (made from actual alligator tails).
On our way back North we were hoping to go across the Everglades and maybe see some gators, but we missed the road (it wasn’t my fault) and decided to go up to Lake Okeechobee which ended up not to be kind of sad, but it is the second largest fresh water lake in the United states.
Back to Daytona, my Mom somehow wrangled Jim into making Christmas dinner! That is what he gets for always talking about how he cooks this and that. Dinner was awesome and my Mom was cook-free for the day. Now that is a great Christmas present! And we did ended the meal with my Mom’s specialty, Baked Alaska, which she made the day before.
Besides the great food, our Christmas day was wonderful and somewhat funny! Josh and Todd trying to figure out how to use a Nicaraguan toy top, premiering our 12 Months of Hondomas video, and having a pirate face contest, was quite entertaining!
Jim and I wrote a little Christmas song for you as our holiday greeting!
It is our twisted version of an old Christmas diddy!
Here are the words, in case you did not understand our singing!
THE 12 MONTHS OF HONDOMAS
In the first month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, a gecko with the name Gus.
In the second month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 2 bad boils.
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the third month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 3 gun shots,
2 bad boils,
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the fourth month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 4 tipping boats.
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the fifth month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 5 red sun burns.
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the sixth month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 6 men a’couping.
5 red sun burns
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the seventh month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 7 floody rivers.
6 men a’couping
5 red sun burns
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the eighth month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 8 macaws squawking.
7 floody rivers
6 men a’couping
5 red sun burns
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the ninth month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 9 Spanish Classes.
8 Macaws Squawking
7 floody rivers
6 men a’couping
5 red sun burns
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the tenth month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 10 roosters crowing
9 Spanish Classes
8 Macaws Squawking
7 floody rivers
6 men a’couping
5 red sun burns
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the eleventh month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 11 days a’raining.
10 roosters crowing
9 Spanish Classes
8 Macaws Squawking
7 floody rivers
6 men a’couping
5 red sun burns
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
In the twelth month of Hondomas, our year forth gave to us, 12 Ninos playing.
11 days a’raining
10 roosters crowing
9 Spanish Classes
8 Macaws Squawking
7 floody rivers
6 men a’couping
5 red sun burns
4 tipping boats
3 gun shots
2 bad boils
And a gecko with the name Gus.
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!
Visit the HenderBalz Blog in the New Year to hear what may come of the two. Get answers to burning questions like…did Hender or Balz finally get a job, did they find a place to live, have they been overstaying their welcomes, are they living in their Suburu, or did they leave the country yet in search of warmer weather and cheaper living?
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Our last week with the Boys! Our week was filled with making utensil people, jump roping, playing on the computer and sharing lunch time with the boys. Check out the following album to see what we did with our time during our last week in Honduras!
On our last day at Casa del Nino, we started off with regular activities. I brought all the beads I had left over for an all-out beading day, and Jim opened up the computer room. I started to cry right away, but I held myself together. The boys went crazy making me beaded jewelry and one teen, Mario, made himself a bracelet that said “Dawn, I love you” for himself to wear. My tears did not get the best of me then, but then little Israel came up to me to whisper in my ear in English, “I love you!” I broke down. It was that kind of day. I think Jim got a bracelet or two too…and some tears as well.
After our activities were done, we hung out and waited for Pizza! Jim and I got pizza for everyone for dinner and I have never heard such silence at the Casa before. Wait, we did hear a “Mmmm” or two which was music to our ears! It was great to see the boys enjoying something that they do not get to eat very often. The surprises were not over. Erika and Gustavo got up to say some nice words and they gave us Feed the Children Casa del Nino red polo shirts as a thank you gift for our volunteer work for the past year. They boys also made cards for us and each one came up and gave us cards…which sent me into a sobbing jag. If that was not bad enough, Jim stood up to say some words to everyone which then made him cry too. But soon laughter and cheers were every where because Jim and I pulled our Bolsas de Sorpresas (Surprise Bags). We gave gift bags to each boy. Included in the bag was a photo of us with each one in a homemade frame. We do not want them to forget us!
Our lasts are not over yet, as we had one last night out in La Ceiba, Honduras. We got to see our best Honduran friends, Audrey and Jerome one last time. We also got to enjoy our favorite hangout, Expatriots, one last time, and we got to see our 18 year old friend, Edwin, one last time too. And let me not forget seeing Dr. G. one last time as well. He was the kind man that caused us much pain when we had those staph infections.
Okay, now that I have shown you a lot of our “Lasts,” I want to tell you none of them will really be our lasts because we have bonded with 30 boys who will always be on our minds, within our hearts and in our lives forever. We are committed to visiting the boys at least once a year, but hope to make it more.
We are very lucky people to have had the chance to do what we have done over the last 16 months, but more so because we were able to meet Kevin, Arnaldo, Anthonio, Selin, Carlitos, Rossel, Elvis, Alexander, Samir, Manuel, Israel, Walter, Josue, Jaime, Julio, Eldon, Jan Carlos, Luis Enrique, Big Samir, Noe, Luis, Jonas, Andres, Brayan, Junior, Miguel, Mario, Joel, Angel Gabriel, Angelito, Marcos, Michael, Jonathan, Angel Rojos, Jose, Edwin and Erik.
Thank you boys for enriching our lives!
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We have been back in the states for less than a week and we are staying with my parents in Daytona Beach, FL. Here are some of the things that are freaking us out a bit about being back in the good ole U. S. of A.:
-Driving on the roads. Going from Orlando to Daytona Beach at night and seeing the perfect highway roads, with brand new looking painted lines, reflectors and lots of street lights. I thought the car was going to sprout wings and take off because the highway looked like an airport runway!
-Drinking from the tap. I know a lot of Americans are freaked out about the quality of water that does come from the water taps, but we could not drink from them at all and feel like I am doing something wrong by doing so here.
-Commercials. We have not watched TV for most of the year, but they seem a bit more negative now.
-Grocery Shopping. Not the big stores so much, but the prices.
-Polite Driving. It is weird to see cars purposefully stopping for other cars and people!
-Bathrooms. Not only toilet paper is plentiful in public bathrooms here, but paper towels are as well. And it is nice to not have to throw your used toilet paper into the trash can next to the toilet.
-Realization that we won’t be seeing “Our Boys” in a day or week or two. I know I am attached to the boys, but Jim is realizing he is really attached too. I have already had one “miss the boys meltdown” since we have been back.
-Needing to wash my hair more. Okay it is not freaking us out, but since I wore my hair back in a pony tail every day, there was no need to wash it all the time. Now that sounds gross! I have very dry hair, so the natural oils were good for it. BUT now that I am wearing it down again, it does not look so good when it isn’t sparkly clean!
-Chain Restaurants. Here in Daytona we barely see anything else!
-$9.00 Glass of Wine. Okay, we are oh so happy to be able to get good wine, but one glass of wine in Florida more than what we would pay for both our meals out for a simple dinner is a bit crazy. For you Sacto people, Jim had a glass of Petit Sirah Bogle last night!
-Weather. We were hoping it would be a bit more mild in Florida, but the 55 degrees (I know you Northerners are laughing at that) last night froze our butts off at an outdoor block (We survived Hurricane Season/Christmas) party on my parents street and the decorated boat parade.
-Dangerous animals. After being faced with wild animals, insects and spiders in Central America, I end up getting bit on the lip by my parent’s little Jack Russel, ahem, named Angel!
-Stomach Issues. After not really having many issues with food in Central American for 14 months, I am having more problems than ever right now. Nothing big, but a bit of grumbly in the tumbly.
-Wide Roads, Huge Intersections and Traffic Lights. It is like America (or at least Daytona Beach, FL) has nothing else to do with their money, but making their roads perfect and wide…and putting up hundreds and hundreds of reasons to stop you all the time while on those perfect roads (traffic lights). There are more lights in a 3 block stretch of road here, than in all of La Ceiba, Honduras!
-Being able to find cool clothing for a decent price. I know it is supposed to be cheap in Honduras, but some things are not cheap…or if they are cheap they are made cheaply of polyester. Places like Old Navy and H&M are good culture shock experiences (can’t wait for H&M).
I am sure there will be more things that catch us as odd, but we are making do and surviving the crazy life in the States.
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With 4 more day left in Honduras, so many things are flashing before our eyes. We are trying to take it all it and enjoy every moment like it is our last! So we can not leave you with the images from our “Things We Won’t Miss About Honduras” post. So along with the 2 previous “Things We Will Never Tire of…” (click to read that post) and “More things We Will Never Tire of…” (Click to read that post) we are adding even more things we love and will miss about our second home, Honduras.
PEOPLE WEARING AMERICAN T-SHIRTS!
They wear high school, college, professional sport teams, 5k runs and just some whacky tee-shirts that make sense in the States but not here…like the old dude wearing a “I love mullets” T-Shirt! The same with the baseball caps too!
GETTING OFF THE BUS IN THE MIDDLE OF NO WHERE!
People getting off the bus in the middle of no where with no houses around, just disappearing into the woods on some tiny trail on the side of the highway. It is like they live in a secret Narnia land!
MACHETES!
Can’t help it, but we love them. They are an every day tool here: need something cut no matter how small, whip out the machete; your kids wants to cut open a coconut, give them a machete; or your grass needs a mow, do it with a machete!
LOS GALLOS!
Central Americans love the Rooster, not only for a food source, but for advertising! We had a love for the Rooster before we came to Honduras, and now we love them even more! We will miss roosters and chickens walking the streets, under your feet and crowing at any and all times of the day and night!
HONDURAS Y FUTBOL!
It is just so awesome to see a whole country cheering all for the same thing! All and any differences are shoved aside in order for all their energy to go towards another National Win! Our energy will be with Honduras in their World Cup 2010 matches!
HONDURAN COWBOYS!
We love to see campesinos/vaqueros riding through small towns on their horses for a few reasons. 1) Everyone loves a cowboy, a real cowboy. 2) In Honduras the horse may be that cowboys only source of transportation. 3) Some cowboys teach their horses to prance. And 4) The saddles are wonderful, whether a fancy leather one, a worn old one or a wood one!
THE GREAT LIGHT SHOWS!
What we are talking about is the awesome lightening and thunder storms. We have never, especially West Coast Jim, heard thunder so loud and close before in our lives. And the rain that comes with it, it is so hard and thick it is like a cleansing blanket that covers the dry dust covered city.
OUR BOYS!
We mentioned children in general in one of our other posts about things we will never tire of here, but in particular we would never tire of spending time with our boys at the Casa Del Nino orphanage. Even if we do not feel good or are super tired, we still have a blast with them and come out happy. We will miss them so intensely that we KNOW we will be back.
MOVIES FOR $2.00 – $3.00
We often go to movies every weekend watching whatever movie they have…some silly teen movies and even a horror movie once and I do not even like them. But in a town where there is not a lot to do and the movie is cheap, why not. And it is the only place I can get popcorn here!
OVERWEIGHT WOMEN!
Most Honduran women have meat on their bones…and it is okay.
THE TWO ON A BIKE MADE FOR ONE RIDE
First someone sits on the seat, and another person sits kind of side saddle on the bar that goes in between the seat and the handlebars. Okay, that might be do-able, but the person sitting on the seat is peddling with their hands on the shoulders of the bar sitter. The bar sitter steers the bike. I have totally wanted to try this with Jim, but I know we would break our necks!
OLD GARIFUNA WOMEN
In their old style cotton long dresses and head scarf, I often think that if I sat and talked with them, that I would get Maya Angelou type wisdoms. Hmmmm…maybe this is where Maya gets all her great quotes!
OUR WONDERFUL SUPER HONDO UMBRELLAS
I am sure you have heard me mention our umbrellas before….but we do so love them. They are super large, double paneled and double spoked. Forget the fancy super fold down Totes variety…the Super Hondo Umbrella is the way to go. We even bought two new ones to bring home with us…Jim’s is a sassy yet masculine lime green and dark green striped number, my new one is…rrrooooar…tiger striped (I heard that animal print is still in…please say it is so).
THE NICKNAMES THE BOYS AT CASA DEL NINO USE FOR EACH OTHER!
Mono (Monkey) for little Andres who loves to climb on things. Siete Mundos (Seven Worlds) for Marcos who has a big head. Timba (big belly) for little Isreal that has a belly that grows when he eats! Vaca (Cow) for Walter, because they say he is heavy (he actually looks like normal teen – not skinny like the rest of the kids). And El Tunclo (Loud person) is Jonathon’s nickname because he makes this ear piercing whistle noise! El Diablo for Julio because he’s a bit of a trouble maker. And Jefe (boss) for Jan Carlos because he used to make crank calls saying he was the boss of a local gang. Ay Ay Ay! Some are mean…but the kids do not mind for some reason. Check out the album below with all the nicknames AND the nicknames they have for us!
OUR BIG BLACK RAIN BOOTS
Although not attractive at all, I feel like a kid ready to jump into puddles when I have them on. Actually that is what they are for as the streets flood regularly in the rainy season…so bring on the puddles, uh, mini rivers is more like it!
SNORKLEING
Although I have been a diver for along time and Jim became one at the start of this year away…we have both come to love snorkeling. Maybe that is so because the water is so clear off the islands you do not need to dive down deep to see a lot of great underwater life!
$1.00 TAXI RIDES
Especially if we move to any city in the U.S. of A. So long cheap ride home after a few cervesas!
OLD SIRENS FROM THE BANANA REPUBLIC DAYS
La Ceiba was a company town, Vaccaro Brothers’ Standard Fruit Company from New Orleans started up the banana business here. Everyone that lived here worked for the fruit company. Sirens still go off to mark certain times of the day for current day citizens. But back in the day here was their daily schedule; sirens go off at 6am for a wake up call, then at 7pm for work, again at 11am for lunch, back to work at 12noon and the day is done at 4pm! There is something homey about the sirens. Here is a link to United Fruit Company which is the current fruit company doing business out of La Ceiba for a history of their company, which does involve the above mentioned Vaccar Brothers.
I am sure more things will pop up after a couple of weeks back in the states. We love Honduras and I am sure we will be back sooner or later, if not because we need a baleada fix, but for sure to see “Our Boys” again.
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Some stories just need to be told. I will try to keep them as short as possible, but bare with me if I go on a bit in my excitement of reliving the experiences.
But before I get started…here are some statistics on our trip:
Days: 11
Cities: 9
Buses: 26
Miles Covered: 800 (Most of those miles were traveling across Honduras to and from the border, El Salvador is a small country)
Hours on Buses: at least 45
Hours waiting for buses: Approximately 15
Time it would take to drive 800 miles in a car at 60 mph: 13.5 hours
Taxis: 6
Pick – Up Truck Rides: 3
DRIVE BY VEGGIES FOR SALE!
DEATH DEFYING BUS RIDE
The bus ride from Santa Rosa de Copan, Honduras to the border of El Salvador started out as a calm one…green country scenery quickly passing by, Jim nodding in and out of sleep…all was tranquilo! But as soon as we hit the mountainous curvy roads the bus started to have problems. Jim did not notice it as he was sleeping, but I noticed the shaking. I was thinking about it, but not concerned. Then the bus pulled over, and the driver and his assistant got out to work on the front left wheel. I start to get a tiny bit concerned…but not worried. The bus got back on the road, the shaking persisted…Jim was awake and finally noticed the shaking. The bus pulled over again to get what looked like containers of oil, Jim first thought it was brake fluid. For a short while the shaking subsided, we took a deep breath. Then the shaking got worse and the roads got worse too. We saw the driver trying to handle his huge steering wheel that was shaking like San Francisco in 1906. I figured it was a good time to get worried, not just because the driver and his steering wheel, but because the old campesino next to me was making a sign of the cross across his chest and white knuckling the armrest. Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.
Then the bus stopped again and more fluid was added. Again we were okay for a bit, like 5 minutes or so, but when the bus starting its shaking again we seriously got worried, both of us. At this point, the bus driver was wrestling the steering wheel like it was a bear. For some reason Jim decided this was was a good time to tell me that he thought the bus was losing its steering. Uh, hello, don’t stress your wife out Goobenheimer! I asked him to pray for our lives, as I had already started to, and then I literally started to weep. The stupid thing is that we never got off! Why would Jim NOT get off if he thought the steering was going? Uh, because the death wish driver just kept on going? All said and done, we did get to the border alive and in one piece, but a bit exhausted from the stress.
This is not the bus…but another one!
I have been wondering to myself how could Jim stay pretty calm on this bus for a long period of time when he will not ride on a roller coaster for 30 seconds with me?? It makes no sense to me, and I would take the roller coaster over that bus ride any day!
WALK BY SALES PEOPLE ON THE BUS
MARIO AND TASHA
Like most of you, we knew about the El Salvadoran Civil War, but did not know many of the details until we went there. This war lasted quite the many year in the not too distant past, 1980 – 1992. The time of pogo dancing and big hair for us, but a time for misery for all Guanacans (Slang name for El Salvadorans) and death for 75,000 of them. It was yet another cold murderous event funded by the lovely U S “Not In My Backyard” A thanks to mostly Reagan, although Carter got the ball rolling and old Bush saw it through to the end.
The U.S. spent 7 BILLION dollars on this farce! Communism, give me a freakin’ break! The U.S. basically paid for some U.S. nuns to be raped and killed, the assassination or kidnapping of thousands of children (yes, you read right), bombing of civilian homes, and at one point in time basically wiping out a whole town by killing at least 1000 children, women and men of any age, on top of thousands of other atrocities. Have you ever heard of throwing children up in the air and shooting them like skeet? Well they have seen it here, and the troops that were committing these disgusting acts were trained and funded by the US government.
But this is not my story, my story is about a man and a dog we met at a leftist bar in Suchitoto, named El Necio (The Fool). Mario, with his shaven head, wife beater white tee and jeans, made quite the impression even before we met him. We were in Mara Salvatrucha territory, and he did look the part of what an older un-tattooed gang member could look like, but when we started to hear about his life we thought different. His loving attention to his Boxer dog Tasha (the number of people that hit and kick dogs far outnumber those that pet them in Central America), helped add to my trust, but to be honest with you I was not completely whole heartedly feeling sure about him until we got back to our hotel un-followed, un-harmed and un-robbed. Sorry, but this is life in Central American, my friends, and we were still a bit nervous after our experiences during the preceding days.
Mario grew up with the political unrest that most Salvadorans his age did, and as many young people at the time, he joined up the resistance movement, but more so because he watched 17 of his young friends get murdered by the Military. Like any other normal day after school, the boys would get together to play soccer in the street. On this particular day, while he was inside changing out of school clothes, 17 of his friends were taken at gun point. He ran after them just in time to see the assassination. Yes, he was lucky he was not one of them, but just imagine seeing that atrocity.
When his mother got wind of him joining the resistance she packed him up, gathered funding and sent him off to the United States. He lived there and Canada for 6 years working and traveling until money or homesickness brought him back to El Salvador. Since the Civil War (Click for more info) was in full force, and he felt the same as before he left, he joined the FMLN (Frente Farabundo Marti de Liberacion Nacional – Click for more info).
We did not discuss too many details about what he did in the war itself as many veterans of war do not, but we did talk about a poster that was on the wall of the bar that said, “Where are the Children?” (Click for more info). The “Where are the Children” campaign started after the war because of all the missing children, most killed, some taken by soldiers, and some eventually adopted out around the world. It is just so very sad. The Military conscripted or killed kids at the age of 12 before they joined the Resistance. Although the young were fighting the Military, they should not be killed for just being young.
Mario is a mason now, just living life. He is content with his $12 a day salary, but would like to build a home for his growing family, which as of this post is five kids! He obviously still supports the FMLN, who is finally in political power right now, and is active in helping the people in his very small community. We saw him the next morning working on restoring one of the old buildings on the main square of Suchitoto. We exchanged gifts, he gave Jim a macramed necklace with the centerpiece being a bullet he pulled out of the wall of the building. One of many bullets embedded in the walls around town, reminders of the Civil War. He told us he could tell the difference between a bullet that contacted flesh from those that didn’t, because the blood on it corroded the bullet more than the one without blood on it. And gee, we gave him a bag fully of silly ole’ pastries.
At some point in the night before Mario shyly shared with us when we were talking about the situation in Honduras, “I do not wish war on anyone, but if my part helped the FMLN to get to where we are today, it was worth if for me. The Resistance in Honduras needs to know it takes time and war is not good for anyone.”
MARA SALVATRUCHA
This story is not about the huge gang that is not only prominent in El Salvador, but has gained the title of the most dangerous gang in the United States as well, but of our experience with them. The Mara Salvatrucha (Click for info) had a habit of tattooing not only their bodies, but their entire faces with their gang name, hand signs and such. With that done, it was kind of easy for the cops to spot them, especially when the El Salvadoran government put “Operation Super Hard Hand” to effect that allowed the police to arrest anyone with tattoos.
Now that I have the background set, this is our story of our experience with the Maras. After being told by two different people in Suchitoto we need to go to San Salvador to get to Juayua, which was way out of the way, we still decided to take the back road buses there instead. We were thinking we will see more of the REAL El Salvador. It ended up to be more real than we planned for.
We ended up getting on the back of the bus, from Apopa to Santa Ana, as that was where the only space for our packs existed. We sat back there with out packs to keep on eye on them. All was well, until these Chiclets salesmen got on. Chiclets salespeople are are usually little children and they just hold out a small box of the gum to show off to potential buyers. But these guys were throwing them on people’s laps, something that caught our attention, but what surprised us even more was the guy that came next. A short guy with a baseball cap pulled down low on his head, in long sleeves and long pants came down the isle picking up the boxes of Chiclets from the people (or now that I think of it – those people might have been giving him money). As this guy got closer, we noticed a strange look about him, an eerie look. The closer he got, the more we tried not to stare at him, but we did anyway. His whole face was covered heavily with make-up. Not blush and lipstick..just very heavy skin cover up make-up. But once you got past that, you understood why…his whole face was tattooed. He had not covered up his eye lids, forehead or his neck and you could see the low-grade jail tats he had there. The whole thing made him look like a scary clown which I’m sure fueled my husband’s coulrophobia (fear of clowns).
My first feeling was intense sorrow for this guy, as he had joined a gang earlier in life, tattooed his face and body, and now regrets it and is selling Chiclets…one of the lowest jobs in Central America. At first the whole scene for me was just sad. Yes, I was sad for him, but I was also very worried for our belongings as well because they stood at the back of the bus for awhile right near us, our bags and the back door. On the bus Jim and I only exchanged the words make-up with each other, but discussed it later.
That is when I realized it may have been more than just a couple of ex-Maras trying to etch out a piddle living on selling Chiclets to bus riders. It was a shake down, extortion, crime in action. The painted face guy, who we firmly now believe is a current gang member, exchanged money with the bus worker (the one that collects the money from the passengers) right in front of us in the back of the bus. In a country were vendors on buses have a hard time breaking a dollar bill, this guy had a wad in his wallet. He was given some money so the Maras do not hurt their passengers which in turn will hurt their business. My sadness for this guy went straight to anger and then fear.
I could not get the face of the make-up-ed/attooed Mara guy out of my mind, The more I thought about it, the more scared I got. I had bad dreams as well. For at least 2 days I was looking over my shoulder all the time. I am not one to be afraid of people, even bad people, but this scary clown dude had an impact on me.
A little Video to Lighten the Mood! ZORO’S RETIREMENT WORK!
Just as I was calming down about the whole thing, we again came in contact with gang members on the back of yet another bus. These were clean, young, tattoo free older teens (although one of the more serious looking boys looked like he had been beaten up pretty bad in the face at some point in the past). Since I have worked a lot with boys that age I noticed there was NOT a social lightness about them that most teens have and this made me concerned. When the eight of them got on the bus and took all of the seats around us at the back of the bus, Jim and I exchanged knowing glances at each other. We were not sitting together since the bus was empty when got on through the back door. We had spread out for comfort, but we stayed at the back because again our packs were back there. Jim sat behind one guy that was on the phone quite a bit and heard some of the conversation which spooked him. That made me more concerned, and the fact that the bus worker did not even try to get money from the 8 guys for the ride. But yet still I was chalking up my fear mostly to what had happened on that earlier bus. I just did not want to be totally scared on every single bus in El Salvador, as we had a lot more bus rides ahead of us!
A local long-haired no-shirt surfer guy got on the bus and wanted to sit next to one of the gang members. The gang member argued with him for a bit and then finally moved to sit next to his homey, but only after some rude remarks were made and all 8 of them were giving evil glances at the surfer guy. Then the surfer guy did not want to pay the bus fee because it looked like he didn’t want anyone to see how much money he had in his pockets. I have to admit…I thought a fight would happen right on top of me as I was between surfer guy and some of the gang guys.
Just as I was calming myself down, Jim jumped up and said, “We are getting out NOW!” as he pushed me towards the back door!” I jumped up scrambling to get my pack out the door before the bus started up again. Outside the bus, I noticed we were no where. Not in a town of any size, but fortunately right in front of a restaurant that over-looked the Pacific Ocean. Jim was more concerned than I really knew and he felt he had to take action before their plans materialized, so he got us off the bus at a public place. My hero!
We were sure, if they were not gang members (many of the young members are being told NOT to get tattoos now due to the Operation Super Hard Hand anti-gang program), they were thieves. The restaurant owner said there are many thieves on that bus route down the beach. After a beer and letting a bus or two pass us, we finally got on another bus. This time and every other bus ride forward we sat in the front of the bus and with packs in lap if we had to. We got to El Tunco safely, but again a bit stress weary.
Note to travelers in Central America, especially in El Salvador, do not sit in the back of the bus OR let bus workers try to separate you from your pack, especially if it is in the back of the bus. Something that most seasoned travelers know, but our comfort level down here with the bus systems led us astray.
El Salvador Stories Part II in next post!
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Okay, I can’t seem to keep my stories short, but I hope you liked the previous ones anyway, and I hope you will like these few more just as much.
NOTE: Although the photos and videos linked to this blog are random, they all are from our trip to El Salvador.
SINGERS AT JUAJUA FOOD FEST
SANTIAGO DE MARIA
I moved to San Francisco on Feb. 6th, 1987. My sister and her fiance, Jeff, lived in an in-law apartment under Jeff’s Mom, Blanquita’s, house. I had nowhere to live, so I rented a room in Blanquita’s house for cheap.
Blanquita was a small woman, but she carried herself like she was a giant. She kept her house tidy and was every so polite. I became part of Blanquita’s family, attending holidays with them and other activities. At some point, my sister told Blanquita I could speak Spanish (uh, barely at the time), and I just loved how she and her sisters would always look over at me, probably gossiping, at family events to see if I understood. Sometimes I would act like I understood! Pupusas will always remind me of Blanquita, and a crocheted black sweater will as well. She was wearing a sweater one day and I told her how much l liked it, the next thing I knew she gave me two of them!
In her later years she had a stroke and became wheelchair bound. Although she still had a will to live it was hard to see feisty Blanquita in that chair. I chose to remember the “walking up and down a huge hill to church every morning in Daly City” woman instead.
I thought of her a lot on this trip to El Salvador, because that is where Blanquita grew up. I got the name of her town from my brother in-law and her maiden name just in case I would make it to said town. Oddly enough, we figured out that we had to pass through the town, Santiago de Maria, to get to Alegria, a town we planned on visiting from the start.
We spent only an hour in Santiago de Maria, but it was more than enough time for me to befriend four young sisters in Parque Central and to find someone who said he knew Blanquita and her sisters. It is a bit hard to believe as they moved to the United States in the 1940’s. When I would come upon an old person I would ask if they lived there all their life and if they said, “Yes,” I would ask if they knew her. I would explain that her family owned a coffee farm, which is not uncommon as coffee is still grown as far as the eyes can see.
NO HONOR FOR LITTLE PERQUIN
We decided to go to the little town of Perquin because of its significant Civil War history. It was the former headquarters of the resistance, the FMLN, after all. It was the headquarters for the people who fought for 12 years against the U.S. backed El Salvadoran Right-Wing Military and oligarchy. Not an easy thing for a militia that included many kids to do, kids (Click on kids for more info). A lot of the people fighting the war were young, oh so young. The FMLN had to recruit anyone they could and they did. So many of these young people lost their lives for the fight and some lost their lives right there in Perquin.
But has the country, the government, the people, honored what these freedom fighters and the civilians in the area had to endure in the fight to have a voice? No, not entirely. Oh, yes, there is a big, now shabby, monument in San Salvador, but that is not where the FMLN headquarters were located.
The headquarters were in Perquin, a small unkempt, shabby, little town. We had been to a lot of tourist towns in El Salvador and they were clean, shiny and bright, but not poor little Perquin. Even though there was a couple of murals, there was also trash on the ground and a beat down, state of decay feel to the place.
Why has El Salvador forgotten about Perquin? Well, the people of Perquin have not forgotten what they went through, there are daily reminders. A rusted out jeep abandoned on the side of the road now over grown with fauna. A small museum at the headquarters building luring in the adventurous traveler here and there.
We went to the sad little museum and took our time looking at the photos of FMLN soldiers, dead and still alive, Anti USA posters (some printed by US organizations, one even had a 415 area code phone number), FMLN fundraising posters and arms of all size. A radio station, known as the “Voice of the Resistance” was preserved, exhibiting a chilling reminder of the peoples fight against another one of Reagan’s dirty cold war battles. You get the eerie feeling that their ghosts are still there, broadcasting news to their comrades. Beside the building, exhibited like a prize trophy, the downed helicopter that carried an El Salvadoran military commander who led the massacre on the nearby town of El Mozote. We hiked to the to top of Cerro Perquin where former lookouts were established and the decoy radio antenna that attracted the military commander was erected. Bomb holes litter the landscape. Trenches and caves are left as a reminder of the violent past.
I was very touched by this town. It saw the worst of the war, but it has not received the honor it deserves as one of the most significant historical sites for the FMLN. I won’t forget about Perquin. Jim and I talked and thought it could take as little as $5,000 U.S. dollars and sweat equity to spruce up the little town so the people of Perquin can hold their heads up high. A piddly amount compared to the 7 billion the United States poured into El Salvador to fight the ill-equiped freedom fighters. Maybe now, 29 years after their formation, that the FMLN holds the highest seats in government, things will change for Perquin. I hope.
THE PICK-UP, CENTRAL AMERICA’S OTHER FORM OF TRANSPORTATION!
We woke at 4:22am one fine morning and decided to take the 6am bus instead of the 1pm bus that day. We readied ourselves, then out we went at 5:30am sharp to wait for the 6am bus to Marcala, Honduras. 6:00am passed, then 7:00 and when hit 7:30am I started to ask questions. After a couple of calls were made, we were told the bus was not coming, but we were still not sure. Getting the wrong info is the norm in Central America. We walked up to the one man police station and found out that the bus often does not show up, and fortunately a guy in the office offered us a lift in his pick-up down the hill to the highway.
So, instead of waiting in the sleepy little town of Perquin, we waited on a corner of the highway and a dirt road; the dusty turnoff to Honduras. Things looked as though we were going to be waiting a long long time as we sat on a log outside the corner pulperia. Jim chatted with one of the fellow waiting passengers and said we should all pitch in and hire a truck to take us. He chuckled in acknowledgement of the idea and yet was content to while away the day waiting for the afternoon bus that might not ever arrive. I think an hour had gone by when one of the waiting women asked if we wanted to share the cost of a ride. We told her we were in on her plan. She went off and found someone to drive us and the others over the border to Marcala, Honduras.
There were nine of us in on her plan, and we all grabbed our stuff and headed off in the direction of our new transportation, a rusted-out 1980’s hoopty Isuzu truck. Once they manually gassed up the old thing, we threw our belongings in the back and jumped in. Mom with baby got the front passenger’s seat. What Jim and I did not know was that this route across borders is a rutted dirt mountain road, which makes for a very bumpy ride. I sat next to two kids, David and Alexandra. David was chatty and he seemed to understand my Spanish very well, so we had a nice chat.
Jim and I were enjoying the ride in the fresh air and our border crossing back into Honduras was even easier than going into El Salvador. Matter of fact, no one but Jim got out of the truck to get checked! We thought after “the long wait for a bus that never came” business earlier, we were getting some luck on our side. But things don’t always go so smoothly.
As we crossed the border into Honduras the sky got darker with each passing kilometer, as the sun ducked behind the thick heavy clouds. It was getting a bit chilly for most in the truck, but Jim and I still enjoyed the fresh misty air. We were rudely smacked out of our pick up truck adventure dreamland when rain drops started to come down. Before it got too hard, the children were moved into the cab as well as a bunch of belongings. Our packs stayed in back with us. At first it was kind of fun, especially since we finally got to use our big ole’ Hondo super umbrellas, 3 huddled under mine and 3 under Jim’s. It was cozy and downright funny when one of the women could not stop laughing as she rolled back and forth loosing her balance with each bump and turn. We all joined in with her laughter. When the wind picked up as well as the rain, the laughter slowed. The umbrellas did not help as much as we needed.
Those of us sitting on the floor of the truck basically started to sit in a puddle of muddy water, those who tried to just squat got knocked around a lot by the bumps and deep ruts in the road. We tried to protect our packs from the rain by throwing a huge plastic bag over them, but that did not help the side that was sitting in the flooded truck bed.
I can’t complain, although my pants were completely soaked in the back, others were way worse. When we arrived in Marcala, we looked like refugees getting off a life raft from Cuba, and there was no ocean in sight aside from the pool in the back of our truck. We said our good-byes and off we went to find a hot shower and a bed to snuggle warmly in. Our anticipated 3 hour bus ride turned into a 6 hour, bumptity bump, wet, hoopty pick up truck experience, but we got there safe and sound.
I know this is old school, but I think you will enjoy it anyway!
Although I will be touching on some stories of our trip to El Salvador in this post, some are worthy of more detail which I will share with you in my next post.
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Bus ride from San Pedro Sula to Santa Rosa de Copan…… 80 Lempiras ($4.00)
Getting the scariest bus “losing-it’s-steering-on-mountain-roads-death-defying-praying-to-all gods-for-our-lives-literally-crying-roller-coaster-like-ride” experience…Priceless!
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BY THE WAY – PRICING IS PER PERSON!
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Taxi to the bus terminal in La Ceiba…20 Lempiras ($1.00)
Bus to San Pedro Sula…90 Lempiras ($4.50)
Bus to Santa Rosa de Copan…80 Lempiras ($4.00)
Hotel and Food in Santa Rosa de Copan…($22.50)
Bus to El Salvador Boarder…70 L ($3.50)
Bus to La Palma, El Salvador…$1.50
Total….$46.00
Eating a pupusa ($0.35) for the first time IN El Salvador (where they are from)…Priceless!
On a bus from Apopa to Santa Ana seeing a young guy with make-up concealing his poor quality gang face tattoos “selling” Chiclets….Sad.
Finally realizing he wasn’t an ex-Marada like I thought, but a current one extorting the bus worker near where we were sitting…Scary as All Hell.
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Eight hours of bus rides to the Route of Flowers…4 bus changes and around $3.75.
Not seeing many flowers on the Route of Flowers but beautiful country none the less….“What the…?” kind of Priceless!
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Following a local “guide” into the jungle…Worrisome.
Seeing 4 wonderful waterfalls and a group baptism, and swimming in the fresh cold water…Outdoorsy Priceless!
Bus along the coast to small Beach town of El Tunco…50 Cents.
Jim pushing me and our bags off the back of the bus all of sudden when the bus stopped because there was a gang of 8 guys hanging about us…Exciting, but Not Priceless.
Trying to find a small art museum on foot in a city where houses are locked down like prisons for safety…a bit disconcerting and $3.00 when we did find it.
Being told by a hotel owner to leave Alegria, the highest very cute town in El Salvador, because all the hotels were full…very annoying!
Having a drunk, but amiable, local guy find a cheap room for us right on the parque central and with a great garden and view…In Your Face Other Hotel Guy Priceless!
Jim getting sick in the middle of lunch and sleeping the rest of the day and night in Alegria
…a bummer.
Dawn meeting a Australian couple to talk to while out having her fix of pupusas for dinner…Priceless, in a “Keeping Dawn from Going Stir Crazy in the Hotel Room and Bugging Jim” kind of way.
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Waking in the early, early morning to live bands belting out tunes and hustle and bustle noises around the hotelito…a Bit Put Off.
Finding out the production crew of El Salvador’s version of Good Morning America (Viva La Manana! – Long Live the Morning!) was staying in our hotelito, and that they were shooting the whole show in central park vive (Uh…LIVE)…Priceless in a Silly Star Struck (okay, Jim was not that impressed) Way!
Looking forward to going to the small town, Perquin, that was the Headquarters of the FMLN during the Civil War…3 hot buses, our packs on our laps for 4 hours, and around $3.50.
Getting to the only not clean and kept up town we have seen in El Salvador and not being able to do a hike with an ex-guerilla guide because of thieves on the trails…Kind of Sad.
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Finding a event a decent place to sleep in Perquin…impossible.
Wishing I could take a shower, but it was very cold and foggy outside where the cold water shower was located and there was a big spider in the shower room… too bad so sad.
Convincing Jim that there was hot water in the shower and then seeing his goose bump body when he came back from the shower… Priceless.
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Weezing and taking puffs of my inhaler throughout the night and finally deciding to get up at 4:22am because I couldn’t handle breathing any more mold in the room…not fun.
Deciding to take the 6am bus back to Honduras instead of the 1:30pm…more not fun.
Waiting for 3 hours for the 6:30am bus to arrive then hearing that it won’t be coming so we have to wait for the afternoon bus…triple not fun.
Coordinating with our fellow stranded bus passengers and arranging a ride in the back of an old hoopty pick-up with 9 other people and all their luggage on very rutted mountain dirt roads across the border that El Salvador still doesn’t recognize…Doing it Local Style Priceless!
Lugging our beloved but huge and bulky Hondo super umbrellas all over El Salvador and not needing them once…awkward and inconvenient!
Getting caught in the rain, minutes after crossing the border back into Honduras, in the back of an old hoopty pick-up with 7 other people and all their luggage on very rutted mountain dirt roads with our huge and bulky Hondo super umbrellas…So Worth It Priceless…for everyone!
Arriving to Marcala, Honduras drenched and muddy, looking life refugees (okay the umbrellas were not made to be used while in a moving vehicle)…funny.
Taking a hot shower…Priceless!
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Dawn getting what sickness Jim had the other day…bummer!
Jim going out and about to not bug Dawn and go stir crazy….Priceless!
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Long bus travel day…10 hours.
Sleeping in our own bed…Priceless!
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That’s it in a Priceless-like nutshell. Read the next blog for elaborations on some of our adventures mentioned above.
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