Serenades

Friday was Women's Day in Honduras, and most schools make a big fuss about it. At my school, we have about 15 women on staff, and an unbalanced 5 men. There were flowers and cake and speeches. Earlier that morning, I got up at 4 a.m. to meet two other teachers, Rodrigo and Ronmel, in a borrowed taxi cab. It rained the night before, and leaving my house in a hurry, I slipped off of my porch and fell into a stack of roofing tiles down below, breaking a few. I was fine. Ronmel brought his guitar and lyrics to songs with him. Our mission was to sing serenades to all the women from school.

It was a silly affair, due to our lack of sleep and tiptoeing around houses. We ruined some perfectly good songs that morning, but I think that's part of the fun. Spanish love songs are ridiculous by means of exaggeration, and it's hard not to laugh when you're singing about roses at dawn. We would serenade outside of the gate, and then run to the cab, giggling and dodging puddles.

I really like all of the teachers at this school. They are impressive people, and it's exciting and different to share these times with them.

Returning to Honduras

My plane flight back to Honduras didn´t go as planned. I made the mistake of flying late on the Sunday before classes started. The schedule said that I would be in San Pedro Sula at 12:40 AM. As it turned out, I walked out of the San Pedro airport terminal at 4 AM. Never trust Spirit Air to be punctual.

My hostel was a tremendous help, however. The owner, Luis, picked me up at the airport at 4 o´clock and didn´t complain a bit. He and his wife Blanca run the hostel. In the morning, they made me coffee and got me to the bus station. San Pedro Sula is the city where you don´t want to be lost or alone, and I am incredibly grateful for Luis´help. I imagine he slept a few hours that night on account of me, and they only charged me $16 for the airport pickup.
The busride back to Siguatepeque was arduous... it took about 4 hours, and I would drift in and out of sleep, waking each time to some new eccentricity. One time it was a man standing in the aisle making a long sales pitch about some miracle vitamins that cure high blood pressure and body odor at the same time (only 100 little Lempiras!).

I succeeded in missing the first day of school, and took a short nap that afternoon. But I have a class assistant now! No more 27 vs. 1. Really, two teachers are so much better than one.
This past Saturday I went on bike ride towards La Esperanza with my friend Carlos. It is a difficult ride, with steep and sustained uphills, but we rode back down to Siguatepeque in a quarter of the time. The downhills were of the sort that make tears stream out of your eyes. ¡A la muerte!

Later that night, I rode out to a party at a discoteque/ cafe to meet some friends. The guards wouldn´t let me chain my bike up inside the front yard, so I chained it to a metal post just down the street. Later that night, I went to get it, and there was nothing on the post. I frantically searched, as if it could be somehow hidden in the shadows, but it was gone. I came to Honduras expecting to be robbed, but all the same, it came as a shock.
The walk home was about 50 minutes. 15 minutes out from my house, a thin guy, maybe 25 years old, ran up to me. I thought this was strange, so I asked ¿Qué tal?...What's up? He said, after some small talk,

"My two friends back there want to rob you."
"What? Are you serious?"

The strange thing was how he was telling me about this. Was he trying to warn me, or what? I tried to stay calm, but it was an uncomfortable situation. I told him that I was going to a friends house, and cut down the next street close to where Carlos lives. The thin guy said something like "No, walk with me," but he didn't follow me. One of his friends threw a rock, which bounced off the ground and hit me in the leg. They all ran off giggling. I think they were drunk and wanted to play around.
It was enough to shake me up emotionally. And if my bike wasn´t stolen, I wouldn´t have been harrassed. Oh, well, new lessons and new stories to tell.

Feel free to keep in touch!
Email: brett.bort@gmail.com

Letters:
Brett Donahue
Del Sol Montessori Bilingual School.
Calle 21 de Agosto, Aptdo. #194
Siguatepeque, Honduras, C.A.

I will try to upload a video from the bike ride soon.
It was great to see some of you in December!