It was time for a vacation. I love the kids and I love my life, but sometimes you gotta rejuvenate. So along with 5 of the other volunteers, we bused it 6 hours to the Caribbean coastal town of Tela for some R&R. Relaxing it was. I read, slept, ate good meals, sat on the beach, swam in salty bath water (the ocean was that warm), and played countless games of Banana Grams (speed scrabble that comes in a banana shaped pouch!).
On what we thought would be our final day of vacation, we had taken a bus to small Garifuna village. At around noon the men came back from fishing and the townspeople gathered in a small shack near the ocean to weigh and pay for the catches. Since we were soakin’ up the rays near this happening, they fried us up some freshly caught fish for lunch (along with plantain fries – yum!). As we were reflecting upon our surreal surroundings (thatch roof and the Caribbean waves that crashed yards away) my friend’s mom texted her to let her know former president Zelaya had secretly crossed the border and had taken refuge in the Brazilian embassy in Tegus. (At the end of June he was overthrown by a coup (or whatever we want to call it) and not since been allowed to enter the country). We made it back to town just in time to be told that a curfew had been imposed on the entire country that began… 15 minutes ago (time to head back to the hotel!).
Luckily the day before we had switched hotels (since staying a in a cement box that was about 100 degrees with a bathroom door that didn’t open from the inside and a shower that dripped from a pvc pipe would have been a horrible place to be stuck for days!). Most of the shops had closed already, but there was a small store near our hotel that remained open. As I went in to grab a couple snacks, I asked the woman if she planned on closing. She responded, “I’ll close as soon as Micheletti (acting president) reimburses me for all of the business I’m going to lose”… touché. Dinner was baleadas from the street-stand that operated from our neighbor’s house.
We awoke to be told that the curfew extended for the rest of the day, though there were still a few people milling about and a couple little stores with windows open. We ate breakfast a hill-top hotel a few blocks away where meals are served on a balcony overlooking the ocean. They let us use their internet for a free to checkup on the news and then we headed back to the hotel, passing police who didn’t seem to care that so many were out breaking the nationally imposed curfew. As not to press our luck, we spend the rest of the afternoon in our hotel, blocks from the ocean, sleeping, reading… and playing Banana Grams.
We thought the curfew was lifted that evening, so we headed to a hotel-restaurant on the beach where the seafood was out of this world (only to be told the curfew wasn’t actually lifted...). There we met up with some nice gentlemen whom we had met a few nights earlier and they kindly bought us drinks and chatted through dinner. (By nice gentlemen, I mean Norm and Al. They’re members of the Rotary, from Vermont, and they were only in Tela to check in on some volunteer projects their branch heads… they’re probably in their 60s :0). Since the curfew was still imposed indefinitely, Norm kindly hooked us up with the hotel owner who said we could use their pool during the day tomorrow, as not to be stuck in a hotel room during curfew.
Excited for our day at the pool, we awoke to Micheletti announcing a slight break in the curfew. Since people had been complaining about being locked in their homes for the past 36 hours, they were going to suspend the curfew for a few hours that day… in order to accommodate the Honduran people (well gee, thanks!). This of course brought outrageous lines at banks, gas stations, and grocery stores, as everyone was stocking up in case of more house-arrest.
Curfew or none, we still headed to the hotel and pool to enjoy the rays. Unbeknownst to us, that day happened to be Norm’s birthday! The hotel owner invited us to his surprise party that evening and we enjoyed cake at the beach, while singing an awkward version of Happy Birthday in English with the Hondurans.
At 6 the next morning the TV announced an end to the curfew as the announcer told everyone that it was a “normal” day. Go to school! Go to work! Things are back to normal! (Now had anything happened which changed the political situation you might ask? Of course not…). But we took advantage of the day, bought bus tickets and headed back to the Ranch.
A strange vacation it was. I had left hoping I would return feeling rejuvenated and I had never been so happy to be back on the Ranch. Friday we had classes and the teachers were all glad to be back working. This is principally a political problem and we are far removed here on Rancho Santa Fe, I really only know what’s going on when I come to the internet. Most Hondurans I talk with seem to be pretty disillusioned with politics in general and I have on more than one occasion been told, “we’ll be poor no matter who the president is”. There are pockets that have strong feelings one way or another, but most of the people just want to go on with their daily lives. I don’t know enough about Honduran politics to honestly analyze the situation either way. Perhaps what the international community is calling for will be best. Perhaps not. But in this village of children that I live in, all I can hope is that the changes be made will make their futures better… because they are the ones who will inherit these problems or solutions.
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