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Honduras

Honduras…..so much comes to mind when I think about this country. 

This is my experience, my impression and what I gathered during my stay in Honduras. I write about all my travels regardless of whether the travel was work related or personal.  Those of you who know me personally, you know that I’ve worked on a cruise ship for the last 6 years. This has enabled me to see many places and to learn Spanish. You also know that I’ve been to 30+ countries and have lived in 4 of them.  I love traveling and it fuels every fiber of my being. If you’ve read any of my blog entries on Hawai’I, Colombia or Hong Kong  then you probably expect something similar this time around. However, this entry is going to be a little different.  Some of you may not agree with what I have to say, but it is my opinion and I expect that other people may not agree.

I arrived in San Pedro Sula on May 30^th. My boyfriend Jorge was waiting for me at the airport and we took the bus to La Ceiba.   I wanted to stay in Ceiba instead of Jorge’s native Trujillo so that I was centrally located for all the things that I planned on doing (rafting, hiking, swimming and trips to Copan and the Bay Islands). I rented a cozy thatch roof house on the beach for the duration of my stay, it was gorgeous!

I stayed in Honduras for 12 days. During this time I got to do all the nature stuff I wanted to do and we also did a day trip to Cayos Cochinos, a three day trip to Copan  and a 2 day trip to Roatan.   This was my first trip my honey’s native country. You see, we work on a cruise ship together and we’ve never even met each other’s families. We’ve been together for some time now and as we progressed in our relationship, there are some things that we needed to figure out. We both plan to work on ships for  a few more years, but then where are we going to live after? Canada, Honduras? Or somewhere in the  middle? This was my opportunity to really see what Honduras was about and see if I can make a life for myself here after ships. My skills are transferrable and I could pretty much make a living just about anywhere. Well, I’ve discovered some things….

What do I think of when one says Honduras? A myriad of words pop into my head.:  gorgeous, beautiful, stunningly green,  paradise, culturally diverse and rich. It’s Latin America’s best kept secret. Honduras has so much to offer and no one knows about it! I could not get over how green and stunning the country was and I don’t mean just the rainforest and parks, I mean EVERYWHERE. Even the highway ride from San Pedro to La Ceiba was stunningly beautiful and green. I could not get over it.  Of all the places I have seen, Honduras is the greenest.  The country took me by surprise, so strange that no one knows about its beauty and all that the country has to offer. All Canadians flock to Costa Rica but it pales in comparison and does not offer nearly as much as Honduras.  So why is it that no one knows about Honduras in Canada?

I will tell you why, Honduran tourism is poorly promoted by the government.  What the government is focusing on doing is crippling the Honduran people and keeping them in poverty so the officials at the top can personally gain from their power.  Before I went to Honduras, I started to do some research online.   I came across a blog that told it like it is: La Gringa's Blogicito.  La Gringa is an American ex-pat who has been living with her Honduran husband in La Ceiba for over a decade. I thought this would be a great tool for  me to learn more about Honduran culture and way of life through the eyes of a Gringa like myself.   What I read scared the shit out of me.  Corruption, abusive police, drug trafficking, gangs,  violence, guns, shootings, a messed up government and the highest crime rate in the world. Jorge would often talk about how ‘bad’ his country was but I thought he was exaggerating, he was not. In fact, I think he was downplaying it.  The more I read of the blog, the more intrigued and scared I became. How do people live there? I have been to some ‘interesting’ places that most people would not dare to go but this was on a different level.  I have one Honduran-Canadian friend and like many others, he cautioned me about the conditions there. 

Honduran people live in constant fear. Fear of leaving their homes, fear of walking down the street, fear of taking the bus. Jesus, how do they sleep at night? How can you live like this? How do people survive?   Just writing this paragraph is giving me anxiety. 

As soon as I got into San Pedro Sula, I wanted to leave.  Honduras has the highest murder rate in the world, San Pedro and La Ceiba being in the lead. I wanted to be on the first bus out to La Ceiba. I booked a flight to arrive at 1pm so that I could get to Ceiba before nightfall. Well , that didn’t work as my flight was delayed in Miami. Now even though I am fluent in Spanish, I don’t look like I am. I am fair skinned, freckled, blonde, green-eyed and on the taller side so I attract all sorts of unwanted attention abroad.  I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, people just bluntly stared at me. Not sure if it’s because I am a Gringa or because I am speaking Spanish with my honey or because my honey is the tallest Honduran on the planet or all of the above.  Either way, it was not possible for me to go anywhere unnoticed. 

Although I was aware of the crime situation, a part of me was in denial. I thought to myself, it can’t possibly be THAT bad. Well, it is THAT bad.  We got off the bus in La Ceiba and hailed a taxi. Jorge was nervous cause he said that ‘here you can’t just get any taxi, you need to know someone or they’ll rob us and leave us dead on the side of the road’, that was comforting!  I told the taxi driver where he was staying and he refused to go there because it’s so dangerous.  Are you kidding me?  He finally caved after I told him I’d pay him more.  It was late at night and I just wanted to be off the street.  We stayed in a private and supposedly secure development on the beach, the area was gorgeous but you had to drive through Ponce to get to it. That was the problem.  Ponce was a shady neighbourhood and taxistas weren’t so keen on driving through.  As we drove into the development, I saw the guard with a shotgun. I thought I was used to seeing guns considering how much time I spend in third world countries, but this time it was different. Everyone in Honduras has guns.   All restaurants, banks, discos, bus stations have security guards, they are all armed. Before you can walk into a bank, you will be wanded  down for weapons. Every public place has a sign that says NO INGRESAS CON ARMAS, do not enter if you have a gun.  Hah! Interesting,  considering  that even the clerk at the grocery store who was arranging items on the shelf had a gun sticking out of the back of his jeans.  Even the Pico Bonito Lodge in the middle of the rainforest had a NO ARMAS sign. In the middle of the rainforest? Pucha Madre! Even when I took the bus from Ceiba to Copan, I was checked for guns. They also took my photo, I asked Jorge the purpose of this. He said so that this way it’s easier to identify the bodies if anything happens.   

I thought I’d be used to third world crime during all my stays in Peru, this was a whole other level.  You constantly have to watch your back, all the time. We had to get a taxi driver ‘de confianza’, a trustworthy driver.  It has to be someone recommended.  Otherwise, they’ll drive you to the closest ATM, make you withdraw your money and then shoot you and leave you for dead on the side of the road OR they’ll come back to rob you later on. Jorge said that sometimes the groundskeepers or security guards aid the thieves in break into homes.  We had Ivan  as our driver, he would lock the doors as soon as we’d get in the taxi and roll up my windows. He told me to never walk around Ponce during the day or night. He told me ‘they rob each other here in the broad daylight, what do you think they’ll do to you when they realize you’re not from here?’.  Lovely, I had 10 more days of fear ahead of me.  

 Nevertheless, I did my best to enjoy myself and stay watchful of my surroundings at the same time.  The first day, Jorge and I went out for breakfast. He told me not to talk about what we do for a living. Hondurans think that people who work on ships make good money and he was afraid that we’d get followed and robbed if someone overhears us talking about our work.  Later in the day we went to the Butterfly and Insect Museum. His Mom and daughter joined us.  Jorge told me that he’s happy that his Mom decided to join us and she never likes to leave the house, she’s too afraid that something will happen or that the house will get robbed. How can you live in constant fear all the time?  A few days later she decided to go back to Trujillo on the bus.  Jorge wanted to give her some money but she was too nervous to take it.  I never carry  a purse around abroad, I just put my ID and cash in bra (feel free to laugh at me here lol). I told J’s Mom to do the same, she matter-of-factly replied that when they rob you, the thieves pull down your shirt to see what you’re hiding there too.  She said she’d go back to Trujillo as soon as she got verification from her friends that the ‘passage was clear’. Huh? Jorge explained that often that people block the roads in an attempt to protest regarding land ownership rights.

  

One of my first nights in Ceiba, we went out for dinner.  We ordered beers and the waiter brought them to the table.  The beers were opened as I expected them to be, Jorge flipped and sent them back. Confused, I ask him why.  He said “in my country you never know, people put things in drinks and rob you later”.  I wore no jewellery, didn’t bring my cell phone or anything expensive  out with me and brought no cash, who would want to rob me? J said “They’ll rob you and then they’ll shoot you so you don’t tell anyone”, eek! That same night, I woke up at 3 am to hear gun shots somewhere nearby. I counted 9 shots. From that night on, I automatically woke up every day at 3 am and struggled to sleep all night. Secure neighbourhood my ass! The Honduran paranoia was getting to me too. Every time Ivan dropped us off and we’d walk across the grass in the dark to get to the house, before we’d open the house we’d both do a  sweep of the property to make sure no one was hiding in the bushes waiting to follow us in.

I started to see that all that La Gringa was talking about was very real. I read all these articles she wrote on police corruption, crooked politicians, gangs, crime ,drug trafficking….this was no joke.  In one of the articles, she mentioned something about how sometimes it sucks to speak Spanish and that those who don’t speak Spanish have the benefit of ignorant bliss. If you don’t speak Spanish, you won’t understand the news and  won’t be able to read the newspapers.   On the way to Cayos Cochinos, I picked up the newspaper  “ 3 women murdered in their home”.  I kept reading, they were murdered and found in pools of blood on the floor. The murder weapon, a cleaver was found lodged in the last victim’s stomach.  I showed it to Jorge, he casually said “That’s my country baby”, shivers went down my spine.  Later that day Ivan picked us up. He told us that 3 people died at a gas station earlier today. They were having a staff meeting and the owner didn’t pay off the ‘bad guys’ so they did a drive by, sprayed the crowd with machine guns and killed 3 people. That took place a 5 minute drive from where we were staying.  When Ivan was busy, we called another taxista de confianza.  Jorge and him discussed how corrupt the police was.  He gave countless examples of being pulled over and asked for bribes. Every time I got into a taxi, I heard another crime ridden story.  I came home, turned on the TV to learn about a bus on the way to San Pedro that was hijacked. Everyone was robbed and one person was shot dead. Comforting, I was going to take the bus across the country to Copan (close to the Guatamalan border ) in a few days.   Why of why did I have to understand Spanish? It would have been so much better if I just didn’t find out about any of these incidents. That’s it, no more TV and newspapers for me.  I tuned out all of Ivan’s stories, I just don’t want to know.

Right outside of Ponce on the main street, there was a permanent police and military patrol stationed.   J said it’s because we’re at the edge of the city and they are monitoring the area to see if drugs are coming in and out. Silly me, I thought it was to protect the Ceibeños but it’s in fact to protect the narcos (drug lords) when they’re bringing in their drugs.  J told me about his Mom’s friend in Trujillo. He was the chief of police and refused to take a bribe from a local crime boss. He wrote a letter right after he denied the bribe saying that “soon I will be killed”, he spoke the truth. People who oppose the crime lords, who deny bribes, who stand up for justice, who do not cooperate with the crooked police, they disappear. I remember all the articles that La Gringa wrote regarding police corruption.  So if the police pull you over and ask you for a bribe and you say no, you’ll end up in jail or dead but if you pay the bribe, then you directly contribute to the corruption. So do you risk your life or do you do what you need to do to survive? Every day I hear Jorge say “What can I do?”.  Really, what can the average Honduran do?  Towards the middle of my trip, we decided to go to Copan. This involved taking a 5.30am bus to San Pedro and then another bus to Copan. Ivan picked us up at 4.15am. We drove through Ponce and on our way out of the neighbourhood onto the main street, we got pulled over by the police. All of these stories flashed through my head and my heart started to race. They asked Ivan for some papers, he was missing something. One policía called over another one, I started to get really nervous. Now we had two officers at the car and a third one on the way. The second one wanted to talk to Jorge, he asked him for his ID (in Honduras you always need your ID, you can get detained if you don’t have it).  He inspected J’s ID and asked him a few things. My heart was pounding and all I could think about was the stories I’ve read on La Gringa’s blog.  The officer returned J’s ID card and turned to me. SHIT SHIT SHIT, what does he want?  He asked for my ID and started asking questions. I know being a Gringa makes me a walking dollar sign, I’m always afraid that I might be a target for robberies simply because people assume that gringos are well off. Do I tell him the truth about what I do and where I am from or am I digging my own grave if I do so? Shit! He asked me if I am going to Roatan and I told him that I am going to Copan. He returned my ID, whispered something to the officers, barked something at Ivan and let us go. I think my heart stopped for a minute there. Why did he want to know if I am going to Roatan? Jorge said he’s checking to see if Ivan is a genuine taxista or not. Huh? The ferries for Roatan leave at 9.30am so if I responded that we’re going to Roatan that would mean that something is not right and that the taxi driver is trying to take advantage of us.  So the police stopped us to make sure I wasn’t about to get robbed? Yes, but not because they are concerned for my safety, most likely they want to get in on it. They’d tell the taxi driver that they know what he’s about to do and if he doesn’t fork over a bunch of money , that they’d detain him.   A couple of blocks down, I saw the military stationed at a different post. I innocently ask Jorge “What about the military, are they crooked too?”, my honey replied “Baby, everyone is corrupt, you are never safe here”.  Okay, I think it’s time I get on some anxiety medication.  Lord, please get me to Copan in one piece!

Our trip to Copan was peaceful and safe.  When we got back to Ceiba, we visited some friends in Zona Viva (live zone or the club district). I’m a Latin DJ in my spare time so of course I wanted to check out the local music scene.  We spoke to some friends on which clubs to go to and which ones are safe. We drove by some really amazing looking clubs right on the water. I was getting all  excited to whip out my high heels and a cute dress but my enthusiasm dwindled soon thereafter. I really wanted to go to Hibou, a trendy looking club right in the middle of it all. We found out that one the drug lords walked in one night, shut it down, kicked everyone out and marked it as their territory. Yeah, I won’t be going there. I pointed out another club, nope not safe their either. Ivan recommended another club, he said there was lots of armed security guards there so it’s ‘safer’, not safe but ‘safer’. Jorge says that even though the sign say GUNS PROHIBITED that the crooked security guards will let the armed narcos in anyways.  If Ivan was not available, we’d have to rent a car because it won’t be safe to take just any taxi. This outing was so much hassle and seemed so unsafe that I just abandoned the whole idea of going out to a disco. I’ll just stay in our so called ‘secure’ area, have a beer, blast my salsa and watch the sun set over the ocean, a somewhat more safer option. 

I hope my Mother isn’t reading this blog entry!

Maybe you’re thinking that I am exaggerating or maybe I’m focusing too much on the negative.  I’m not. If you don’t believe me, read a few articles on La Gringa’s blog especially the 5 part series of articles on corruption/government/police/crime/narcos.

Honduran people are crippled with fear. Their police work hand in hand with drug lords and their government is too afraid to punish anyone.  At one time the government tried to bring the death penalty into their legal system. In opposition, the gangs hijacked a bus with women and children and shot them dead. Coincidentally, there was not enough evidence to put either one of the culprits behind bars. No one mentioned the death penalty again.  So the government and police, rather than punishing criminals is actually enabling them by putting them back on the street or protecting them  during their drug trades. Many people live in poverty in Honduras, about a third of them on less than a dollar  a day.  In a country so rich in natural beauty, why not promote tourism and provide Hondurans with jobs and bring in money? Whole economies thrive solely on tourism, this could change so much for the country.  But no, you will never see a tourism campaign  for Honduras or a commercial or a travel package or even a non-Honduran national wearing a cheesy tourist T-shirt bought on an excursion. Why? Because the crooked people at the top have nothing personal to gain from tourism. They are more interested in robbing  and crippling their own people because it’s more profitable for them and what they’re able to gain goes directly into their pockets.  

All I can say is QUE LASTIMA, QUE LASTIMA, QUE LASTIMA! Being in the hospitality/tourism industry, I see a myriad of opportunities in Honduras. There is so much to do here, it’s truly amazing, This beautiful country has so much to offer, it’s all so undiscovered and hidden.  On every tour that we went on , Jorge and I were almost always the only ones participating. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed having a personal guide for the two of us but I was shocked that we were the only ones wanting to take advantage of everything. All the tours I’ve done through work were always 30+ people, this was great! But really, no one else wants to see what beautiful Honduras has to offer?

So there you go, these are my thoughts on Honduras. I am sure that if  I was publishing this while being in Honduras, I’d be getting my legs broken right now by the police. So can Honduras ever thrive? Can things get better? The answer is so complicated, I don’t even know where to start or whether I can even give you an answer.  Jorge says I’m so ‘cute’ with my optimism but I believe in change. 20-30 years ago, Colombia was in the same place. I visited Cartagena, Colombia last year and felt safer and secure and I was very happy with my decision to go there. I’ve seen successful Colombian tourism campaigns on the television , in print and online. More people than ever are travelling to Colombia. When I went on tours, I was joined by a flock of eager tourists, I was not the only one trying to enjoy the sights. I pray and hope that things start looking up for the people of Honduras. 

As for me, can I make a living in Honduras  after ships? I don’t know.  Jorge doesn’t want to come to Canada and I am not so sure if I can live a life filled with paralyzing fear. Maybe we can settle in Copan or Roatan where it’s safer, maybe things will change in Honduras, who knows?

For now, I will stop my political and social rant and get back to some lighter subjects.   I am glad I got to spend a safe trip with my honey in his native country.  I am glad I got to meet his family and learn about his customs, his culture and his way of life. I am glad that I had the opportunity to explore Honduras and it’s natural beauty and I am glad for another enriching experience in my life. 

These are some things I will miss about Honduras:

-          How green the country is

-          Stunning scenery

-          Incredible eco-tourism

-          The rainforest

-          The sound of waves crashing on the shore putting me to sleep every night

-          Great food

-          Great prices

-          Myriad of cultures (Garifuna, Indigenous, Mestizo etc)

-          Private tours

-          The music

These are some things I will not miss about Honduras:

-          Constant paranoia and fear

-          Gunshots

-          Massive insects

-          Snakes

-          How frizzy my curly hair gets in the tropical weather

-          Crappy service

-          Power outages

-          People staring at me

Anyways, as promised I am switching to lighter mode. Here are some photos of my fun experiences in Honduras. Some of them are slideshows so hit play to see all the photos.

While I was in Honduras, I heard Calle 13 song called Latinoamerica. Listen to the song carefully (This one has the English subtitles below the video if you don’t speak Spanish).  

 There is one line that sums up everything for me:

"Soy America Latina, un pueblo sin pierna pero que camina"

“I am Latin America, a town without feet but one that still walks”

Here's the gorgeous house that I rented on the beach in La Ceiba, isn't it awesome? 

 Here's the rental link if you're heading to La Ceiba and want to rent it 

Of course when I was in Honduras, I had to dig in and have some typical food. There's nothing more Honduran then a Baleada. Here we have a small one, a medium one and a super one.

One of the first things that we did was visit the Butterfly and Insect Museum.  It's run by an American ex-pat that has lived in Honduras for 44 years. He said he came here, fell in love with the country and never left. He collects his insects in Pico Bonito and WHAT a collection. Let me tell you though that after the visit, anytime something brushed my skin, I jumped in the air and slapped the imaginary insect away.

We also did a day visit to Cayos Cochinos (Hog Island in English).  After several attempts at trying to spend my money with disorganized tour companies, we finally managed to take a tour with 6 random girls that were volunteering in the country. It is BEAUTIFUL! About 45 minutes or so by boat from  La Ceiba and just stunning! No electricity whatsoever, the Garifuna community powers everything through solar power. We also managed to get some Guifiti, an herbal rum based drink. We probably shouldn't have drank the whole bottle before 3pm but hey, we shared with our new friends and had a blast.

Cayos Cochinos - flash slideshow

A couple of days later, we went to Pico Bonito to hike. We booked a guide with The Lodge at Pico Bonito . The place was gorgeous! It took us a while to get there but it was worth it. The Lodge was stunning and it was so peaceful and quiet, heaven on earth.  Now, I am deathly afraid of snakes. I told the guide that if he sees any, to not point them out and just guide me away from them.  With all the sunsreen and bug spray I had on, I was sweating like a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck! I was literally dripping, it was well over 35 C and Jorge and the guide didn't even look like they were uncomfortable! Hah!

Pico Bonito - flash slideshow

Rafting was another adventure. This one was the most difficult to arrange. Which ever company I called, they either didn't feel like helping me or were out of business. Finally I found the Jungle River Lodge but let me tell you, the person who answers the email and the person who runs the office and the person that has the cell phone listed on their site, THEY DO NOT COMMUNICATE! Took me 3 bloody days to book this trip, I just wanted to scream like DON'T YOU WANT MY MONEY? Man, I had a lot of Hospitality Training to do here! So we had our personal guide and I've done white water rafting before but this guy was on another level! He wanted to swim upstream in the river (with the paddles), jump off cliffs, climb rock walls, everything I was unprepared for. I tried, but when my shorts fell off in the river and my Betty Boop undies were exposed, that's when I drew the line. Oh and then I floated away with the current and then my shoes fell off and that was it, no more Indian Jones-ing for me. Let me raft and that is it!

Rafting - Rio Cangrejal - flash slideshow

Our next adventure took us to Copan. Copan is on the western side of the country  a few kilometers away from the Guatamalan border. It's a tiny town full of personality. Cobblestone streets, Ranchero Music, friendly people, adorable restaurants and so much to do!  We stayed at an adorable hotel called Don Udo's.

Of course we went to the Mayan Ruins! I love history and have been fortunate to see many other Mayan Ruins in Mexico during my 5 year visit sting there. We hired a guide to get more out of it and enjoyed the day in the sun.

Mind you it was a pretty hot day and once again, I was the only one sweating. Now, I have worked in the Caribbean for 6 years but Honduras has a heat of another level. I don't bust a sweat for nothing but there, it was non stop. After the day in the sun exploring the ruins, we took some much needed Rest and Relaxation at the Luna Jaguar Spa. It was incredible! It's 20 km out of Copan Ruinas but the drive takes about 45 minutes as it's all dirt road.  The drive was incredible, full of winding roads and stunning sights. The spa has thermal springs (my whole reason of going there) and it's all fashioned after the Mayan Ruins. It was raining heavily when we got there so once it stopped, we had the whole thermal spring area to ourselves.  It felt like we were in a different world, straight out of some Mayan tale. We soaked all of our aches and pains away.  At first Jorge didn't enjoy the hot water as much as I did but eventually he sucked it up and dove in. Heavenly!

Luna Jaguar Spa - slideshows

The following morning, we wanted to take the early bus back to La Ceiba (3 hours to San Pedro Sula, 2 hour wait and then 3 more to Ceiba). We got to the bus station but it turns out there was only 1 seat left. So, we left our backpacks there and took a moto taxi to Parque de Aves or Macaw Mountain.  We had a guide that took us around the park and told us all about the species of birds and vegetation. His stories were amazing! He was telling us about how he leads expeditions into La Moskitia for 5 to 7 day trecks.  If I could get over my fear of snakes, I'd be the next one in line.

We got back to Ceiba late at night and got up early the next day to take the ferry to Roatan.  I'm thinking of buying property there to rent out while I'm working but I was concerned about crime.  When the Real Estate agent told me it's like a different world, I didn't believe him. He was right. We spent the day at the beach and the following day the agent took me around an island for a tour.  It is paradise!  Hopefully I'll be a property owner here within the next two years.

Roatan - slideshow maker

We returned to Ceiba for the night and I was off to San Pedro Sula to fly back to Toronto. Isn't the Ceiba sunset beautiful?

Well all in all, I had a fabulous time in Honduras.  Best part of the trip? Jorge proposed! :)
Had to take a cheesey lovey-dovey photo of course.

I came back on June 12th. Went home for an hour, ate and showered and was out the door to attend the Canada VS Honduras soccer match with my only Honduran-Canadian friend. I thought I'd be the only one sporting blue and white but nooo...there was a sea of Catrachos.