February 22, 2000

The next day, the dynamic duo took me to some tiny little towns around the Island including Flowers Bay, where Nickie seemed to be related to every other person there. It was Sunday morning and lots of people were strolling to or from church in their Sunday best. We visited lots of her relatives and I heard lots of stories about life and living in this tiny village.

The next little town along the water was Gravel Bay. Not a very romantic name, then again, not a very romantic place. Rustic, perhaps. I came back by myself, late in the the day to take pictures.

I stopped to take a picture of a girl on a bike. She was at the window of a broken down wooden house that was the neighborhood store. By the time I got it together she was gone. But Alberto, the 83 year old proprietor was there to pose for me and introduce me to the neighborhood as they stopped in one by one.

Alberto has been living in the same place on the waterfront since 1917!! His Aunt willed him the place and he named the store after her, though you wouldn’t know it because there is no sign, just a small window with a counter underneath. I asked for a soda and handed him a 100 lempira note. (about $7) He didn’t have change but said “Don’t worry about it ’til next time.” Faith in humanity after all those years! I visited with Ricardo, his young grandson, and then Ises, his studious granddaughter. An assorted cast of characters came, chatted, and went as they finished their shopping. It was a fascinating slice of life for me to enjoy.

February 20, 2000

The port town of La Ceiba is the gateway to the Bay Islands of Honduras. There are three of them, the most signicant in size and population being Roatan. They are separated from Honduras by more than water, with different cultures, languages and lifestyles. More of a Caribbean way of life than Central American. But back to La Ceiba for the moment…

La Ceiba, named after a gigantic tree native to the area, has a certain gritty charm, perhaps more grit than charm. I was introduced to the local custom of Salva Vida for breakfast. That’s the favorite national brew. That, along with a fat Honduran cigar, will kickstart just about anybodies’ day.

I could never quite relax in La Ceiba, always feeling like a target or a walking dollar sign. It’s the third largest city in Honduras and many people seem to be stuck here on their way to somewhere else. A Gringo like me could just be a ticket out. Chatting with people was easy, getting them to leave me alone was the challenge.

February 13, 2000 
 
Several people commented that my “footprints” entry a few weeks ago was somewhat ‘cryptic’ and proceeded to ask if I was Ok. Yes, I’m doing great, thank you. My travel experience happens on many levels, much like life. On a personal level, I did not anticipate how hard it would be to say goodbye to some of the many friends I’ve made along the way. I’ve always experienced dramatic highs and lows on my solo adventures, with the low points invaribly occuring after I’ve left a fun place with nice people to arrive at strange new place where it seems I’ll never make any new friends. New playmates always materialize but the interim period always seems hopeless in spite of the number of times I’ve been through it.

Upon departing from a friendly place, I’m often asked when I’ll be coming back. I respond with “I don’t know” while sadly and silently thinking “probably never”. Many of the people I meet are not in a position to be able to come to visit me. Nor do they have access to e-mail, making the prospect of a traditional pen-pal relationship the only, yet unrealistic option for continuing our friendship.

It’s a big world out there, I noticed this morning as I studied the size of tiny Central America in relation to the other Americas and the rest of the world. I feel like I am only scratching the surface. In the places I’ve stayed longer, every day I seem to drop a little deeper below the surface, into the culture and into the people. My heart seems to be telling me to stop. Stop and go deeper. Ok, so don’t ask me what I mean by this because I don’t know. But I’ll keep you posted.