The Solo Road to Honduras

August 10th - 17th

The road alone is definitely different and I miss having Hannah to laugh with at ridiculous situations, as this week brought many. Have I become a dependent traveler? Yikes! However, when Hannah left El Salvador to head north, I headed west...far west. A trip to Mexico really should not be a spontaneous, unplanned one - did you know Mexico is quite large? Apparently, I did not. After a long, pseudo-air conditioned 12 hour ride, during which my time was passed having N/V/D, we reached the border! Cliff Notes version of my hours in Mexico: make the border patrol shake his head at me when I pronounced Oaxaca exactly as it is written and not how it is actually pronounced (wa-hawk-ah); get to Tapachula and discover it is another 12 hour, expensive bus ride; due to feeling like crap and not wanting to spend a half week's budget on a bus that would bring me exactly 12 hours further away from where I needed to be 6 days later, Guatemala became my fallback destination; a serious lack of budget choices brought me to an air conditioned hotel room with TV, where my amusement came from watching dubbed Hawaii 5-0; a near 2 hour excursion to find a post office and stamps became an epic fail, but with great chocolate chip ice cream; public bus it to the border, get DUPED by a pedi-cab for 5 pesos to go exactly 1.5 blocks, and be so annoyed that I refuse a ride that would have actually been amazing - turns out the bridge to the Guatemala side is about 1 km (and with 90-degree weather and turtling it, I would have paid); looking like a hot and sweaty mess, tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes when the border man tells me I must remain outside of the country for 72 hours before re-entering - probably because I looked like a homeless, frumpy girl who may have started crying in his office, he simply looked away while stamping the passport; another man who took pity drove me to the bus station as to avoid another 2km walk - ps, trying to support your own body weight on the back of a small moped is difficult by itself, but then add the turtle and you get a serious abdominal workout. Now back in Guatemala, a familiar stomping ground, Xela became the destination of choice. 

Friday was a simple travel day to Antigua and lots of errand-running upon arrival. Saturday was just one of those days where everything seems to be in balance and you become a sponge for experiences that occur during the day. The day began with a kilometer walk from where the bus dropped me off to my actual destination, Valhalla Macadamia Nut Farm. Being the only one of its kind in Guatemala, an early retirement couple from California brought and planted 350,000 macadamia nut trees that would provide the people of the area with cleaner air, vitamins and omega acids that they lacked from the current diet, and a more lucrative export to support the local economy. Smaaaarrrrtttt. And, you really haven't eaten a macadamia until you've had a fresh one...what a difference! Enjoyed their most popular breakfast (for good reason!) of macadamia nut and flour pancakes with macadamia butter, blackberry jam, and honey from bee on the premises. Had a great conversation with Jose, my personal tour guide for the morning, about the sustainability of this farm and its positive effects on him and the people of his community. Such a genuine man - he told me "life is about our interactions with others, not with money or other things; now I know you and you know us, our house is your house." Jose, you are SO wise!
When I arrived back to Antigua, I stumbled upon a benefit concert supporting a company called "Los Ninos de Bendicion," which funds the education of more than 15 children from a local pueblo called San Antonio Aguascalientes. Due to the fact that Los Ninos also educates the children about their Mayan heritage, the concert consisted of older children playing the instruments (drums and marimba) and about 10 younger children performing six Mayan folk dances in the traditional outfits of various regions of Guatemala. Umm, ADORABLE! Also, props to the organization who fosters the education of their ancestry. It provided me the first true time seeing children being children, and it truly was lovely to watch. After the concert, I had the opportunity to speak to this woman who is an inspiration in a way - later in life, she lived a dream she had always had, to live and work in another country. Now she lives in Antigua and teaches English in Guate after just packing up shop in the States! Amazing.

On the way to Rio Dulce, I met a Malaysian woman, Alice, who became my traveling partner for my few nights in the area. We stayed in a hostel that rested on stilts in the middle of the water, similar to buildings in Venice. There was a resident boa constrictor and a  river view restaurant a our hostel on the quiet side of the river. The other river bank had the main drag - cantinas, banks, restaurants, and travel agent companies . All in all, beautiful view to wake up to and a great introduction into the river towns of northeast Guatemala. A smooth, non-vomit-inducing lancha ride up the river brought us to Livingston, our first experience of Garifuna culture - the west African slaves on the boats from Europe settled in Roatan, east Belize, and here. They speak English like Rastafarians, in addition to speaking Spanish and their own language, and usually have a smile from ear to ear as they drum their hearts out to various Bob Marley classics. We stayed there a couple days and had a long walk along the trash-ridden beaches (as our Garifuna friend so accurately put it, "an absolute disgrace man") to Las Siete Altares, seven tiers of great emerald green pools separated by sloping rocks. At the top, there is (supposed to be) a waterfall...in our case, it was simply a larger, more dramatic rock that had a leaking problem. The weather is generally super hot and muggy all day long, gets less hot and humid starting around 6pm. The bugs are VORACIOUS! After the first night in Livingston, the worst I've had thus far, I awoke with large red bites all along the right side of my face, neck, and shoulder - the temperature underneath the sheets was enough to cause a syncopal episode, so I created a little breathing pocket for myself...of which every bug on the planet was informed. Leprosy...check. Malaria...highly probable. Making two children and three adults scream from disgust by 9am...check. Oh Livingston.

On Wednesday, I had some very important cargo to pick up in Honduras...HANNAH! Although we make great travel partners, our communication with each other when separated is pretty pathetic. Both of our families can attest to that, as they were the ones who inevitably informed me of the time and date of her arrival...at approximately 9:30pm the night before. We swear it is better when we are together! The path to get to Honduras is relatively straightforward, unless you miss the first boat for a town further up the river, like I did at 6:31am. It was pulling away as I ran with my huge bag onto the dock, so I waited for the nextf one that left an hour later. Heavy rains and thunderstorms rolled in as we pulled away from the docks...we were all soaking wet by the time the lancha broke down! Enter lancha #2 and an hour delay. After arriving at Puerto Barrios at 8:53am, the second collectivo bus driven by the slowest motor vehicle operator in Central America then took about an hour to go less than 20 kilometers. 
By the time I walked across the Honduran border and waited another 17 minutes for change from paying my entrance tax, it was 10:23! Little to no hope of arriving on time, and of course we hadn't discussed what to do if I wasn't there to meet her. Time was of the essence and I had to say something that would elicit some help..."I have a flight that departs at 12:30 from San Pedro!" It just popped out, and remarkably, was somewhat true? Following that statement, the 7 border patrolmen were out to find me a ride, after they asked me many questions about the current state my face was under. My savior came in the form of a young Guate native woman, her Italian friend, and a brand new Kia. After about 5 minutes of interrogation and car searching, the patrolmen smooth-talked their way into getting me a ride! Shout out to everyone involved in that epic event! Had she not given me a ride, I would have had to take 4 different chicken buses and a taxi only to arrive to the airport 2 hours after Hannah anticipated she'd leave for Ceiba. The ride itself was language heaven - she spoke Spanish very clearly and her friend spoke only Italian, so I could actually understand everything and even contribute conversation. Once in San Pedro Sula, she did get lost four different times, but we arrived at 12:41! I'm so grateful for her generosity and the massive detour she took from her hotel in order to drop me off at the airport.

Luckily, the airport itself probably consists of two or three gates, so I asked the closest human if a flight from the states had already arrived. As I walked away from him, I heard my name and whipped around to see a rejuvenated, glowing Hannah as we did the slow "Baywatch" run towards each other! Two things: when both parties of a hug are turtling it, the hug itself is somewhat awkward as it's difficult for your arms to even reach the other person; and it was more of a  Baywatch speed walk than a run. I'm so thankful and happy to have Hannah back so we can continue to laugh at the crazy situations that come our way!