Drumroll please, the first glimpse of my new home! I would have been able to take more pictures through the window, if the drunk Marine sitting next to me, who single-handedly went through nearly three bottles of fine Delta Merlot (Not like I'm judging, because I wouldn't have minded a glass myself if I hadn't been feeling nauseous from a combination of turbulence and nerves. Which was too bad, because I couldn't eat my scrumptious and delectably palatable first class meal of cheese ravioli with an artichoke and mushroom sauce, "freshly baked" french roll and butterscotch cheesecake. And yes, if you were wondering, they really do give you hot towels) hadn't been talking my ear off about how this was the 4th worst airport to land in the world. He sure really knew how to put me at ease.
But, alas, I made it to Tegucigalpa safe and sound--and as soon as I stepped on the tarmac, squinting (and sweating) in the bright Central American sun, I knew I made the right decision. Goodbye's were hard, they always are, but as I've found, the end is truly the beginning.
By the way, for anyone who doesn't know what I'm doing in Honduras, the one-line version is that I got a job as a Travel Coordinator for a non-profit called Global Brigades and my position is based in Tegucigalpa (say that five times fast--but do it quick, because from here on out it will be referred to as Tegus).
Passports stamped, customs passed, bags checked, dollars changed, lempiras received, badda bing badda bang. My dear friend Michelle was waiting at the airport, which was a wonderful surprise and surprisingly comforting, because as much as I hate to admit, I was nervous, and seeing a friendly face was more than reassuring. We lugged my bags to the car, piled in and headed off to Colonial Miraflores. Michelle turned to me in the car, "I'm sure you're really tired and everything, but I thought it be fun if we all went out tonight." I was running on about an two hours of sleep I managed to get in the dusk hours in the Atlanta airport and a triple-shot of espresso, but my adrenaline was keeping me awake, and I knew if I stopped I would crash. So out we went.
First, a stop at the apartment. It's a bit hard to explain the set-up. Basically, there is one big building, consisting of two conjoining apartments and the GB office, and a house about five minutes away. 15 staffers live in the apartment--including myself--which crowded, crazy, but somehow all works. I really think the best way to describe it is 'Real World-NGO', because everyone lives together, works together, eats together, etc etc etc. Except we are actually doing some good for humanity, too. And it's not broadcast to the world via MTV. Although that would be interesting. To say it wasn't intimidating and slightly overwhelming would be lying. I somehow have my own room AND bathroom, which is pretty VIP 'round these parts.It's weird how familiar everything seems. The electric showers, that look like some sort of death contraption with wires and plugs coming out of places (like the shower head) that every logical bone in me says should NEVER be near anything with water but yet provides me with a steamy delight in the morning, the crazy taxi drivers, the guys guarding little tiendas with massive guns, the way everyone says "Buenas" to each other, fresh liquados served on the side of the road, street food in general, the concept of 'Honduran time.' I missed it all.
Saturday night was spent at AGAFAM, or Asociación de Ganaderos y Agricultores de Francisco Morazán. I'm sure that really explained it for you guys. Think the Del Mar Fair, with a Honduran twist. Market stalls peddling everything from generators to posters of the heartthrobs Aventura to the out of place Victoria's Secret stand, stands serving liquados and slightly smoky cotton candy that instantly turned your tongue bubble gum pink, games consisting of shooting neon G.I. Joe figurines with BB guns, prizes of cigarettes and rum, a Ferris wheel with an average 100mph rotation (seems the Hondurans missed the whole "romantic" concept of the ride, because it looked vomit-inducing), cerveza cerveza cerveza and a dinner of pupusas with quesito. We left on the earlier side, hordes of young locals heading in, tight and bright and ready to get their AGAFAM on. All in all, fun night and a great introduction to the county.
And, I actually celebrated SuperBowl Sunday. We projected the game onto the side of the wall, a makeshift flat-screen TV, seven-layer dips and fajitas and even artichoke dip made an appearance. The only thing missing was commercials--we only got the Honduran ones--but from what I've heard, I didn't miss much. Two years running with no SuperBowl commercials-but I think I'll survive.
The rest of the week has been pretty much consumed by a whirlwind of introductions, both to the staff and my job. More on that in another post. Below, a picture of my new familia on Global Brigades Day. To wrap up, I'm incredibly excited to be here. My only other experience with Honduras was on my last trip, and that was largely confined to the Bay Islands without much exploration of the mainland, besides what I saw out the bus window. Looking forward to getting to know a new country, new people, and embark on this next adventure.
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