Velocity

Here's the latest:

Every weekend, we've been tearing up the highways on bikes: Carlos, the Canadians Noel and Mark, and myself. The mornings lie low and quiet, the mountains are covered in clouds, and there is less traffic. Since the region is mountainous, we go up in order to go down. Last week, we rode out to Lago de Yojoa, which is a giant lake right on the major route between Tegucigalpa and San Pedro Sula. We stopped at the lake, ate fish (fried with head and tail attached), hung out in hammocks, and acted pretty lazy. To avoid the arduous ride home, we caught a chicken bus that would let us stuff our bikes on board. A chicked bus has no chickens, but stuffs lots of people inside, so I guess it is like a chicken coop in that sense. They are generally hair-raising rides through the mountains.

This morning Carlos and I finally made the full ride to Comayagua, which is the old colonial capital of the country. The cathedral and park are popular for tourists. On the downhill sections of the ride, we were passing big buses and semis, which was satisfying after some hard riding earlier. When we got into the center of town, we cruised around the street market for a bit, eating cantaloupe, tortillas, and cheese. The ride was about 40km, so not too terribly long, but we're working up. It's amazing how long a day feels after a ride. We got to Comayagua by 9:30, and I felt like it must already be after noon.

Living in Boone got me stuck on the idea of human-powered pursuits, and right now that is most accessible through bicycling. I want to see much more of this country, and this is how I am doing it. I'd like to throw out a tentative offer on that note: I think I'll be here through July, so if anyone would be interested in coming for a visit, I could provide a place to stay and a bike. There's alot to see in this country, and traveling is pretty cheap (the exchange rate is 20 Lempiras to 1 dollar). So email me if you'd be interested!

In other news, Semana Santa is approaching, and I get a whole week off, which I welcome.
Finally, I've written a little about how it feels being here, a poem I guess.


Honduran Spanish

Streetlights bored yellow,
waiting every night in blurry loops
strung like cobwebs around lightbulbs

Taxis well-worn and seam-stressed
maneuver with the creak of old wood floors,
dip like rocking chairs over crushed asphalt

Damp Spanish,
damp heavy h's hang
on words, pull them head-
long like a stack of papers
spilling from a countertop
in a unified flop and scatter

Cacahuates, alcitrones, fresco:
toted through shaky aisles,
suspended baggies of fruit
bulging and knotted

Spanish thick and wet and sticky
like bubble gum it pops all over lips,
chewed up, blown again
into a tremedous, soggy pouch of air.



Check out some pictures of the excursions here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2125016&l=c4c0b&id=29705820