I know I love to talk about the rain in Honduras, but it continues to amaze and confuse me. I have to say that I have not quite figured out the rainy season here, and it doesn’t seem that anyone else has either. Depending on who you ask, it includes all or some of the months of December through February, but it really depends on a given week. Last week was a rainy week: five straight days of consistent drizzle with intermittent down pours. Since my umbrella “disappeared” a few months back, I usually brave the elements in the rain suit that I brought on the Appalachian Trail with my Dad a few summers back (I don’t recall ever bothering to use it…). My students think I look absolutely ridiculous but I have never been one for fashion sense anyways. I have pretty much come to terms with the fact that I will never blend in here, but at least I will keep my pants dry.
Rainy days are tough at Trinity. Rainy weeks are down right crazy. The roofs are leaky, so you have to dodge buckets strategically place throughout the school. The pinging of water off metal or composite materials becomes almost deafening in the classrooms and I have to resort to sign language and diagrams on the board to keep the class on track. To keep the kids near the windows dry, we usually close them. However, this cuts off the main ventilation source, so it gets really stuffy. The drainage in the center of the school fills up with silt so much of the play area becomes a lake. All this translates into inattentive, uncomfortable students with no where to vent their pent up energy. Everybody was happy when the final bell rang on Friday.
The nasty weather finally broke on Saturday, and it was an eventful day. My sink fixture got replaced after it started dripping down below and slowly flooding my apartment; a good excuse for some Friday evening mopping action. I am so lucky to have such an excellent landlord. Peter lives on the first floor of the building and the four apartments are on the second floor. I told him about the problem on Friday night and he had guys working on it by 10am the next morning and done by 11. They even siliconed the sink in the bathroom that was also leaking. What service!
I don’t think I have mentioned my landlord yet in the blog. Peter is an expatriate whose wife is Honduran. He moved down here with his family from San Diego, built this house / apartment complex, and continues to practice international law via his computer. He also plays music gigs at a couple local restaurants on the weekends. In one of those small world moments, I found out a couple weeks ago that his sister and mother live in a quaint town in the southern Berkshires. You may have heard of it… Great Barrington!?
After resolving the sink ordeal, I got to get outside and enjoy the sunshine. Javier rode over on his motorcycle and we took an hour and a half ride up into the Nombre de Dios Mountains, following the Cangrejal River. It was a bumpy ride, as the rain had washed out a couple sections of the road but there was almost no traffic, which kept the dust out of our eyes. The Congrejal river is only 20 km long but moves a lot of water and there is a rafting company that runs the rapids. There are also a couple small communities that are developing an ecotourism economy. The water was running high from the rain and the 70 foot waterfall was spectacular. Great day to get out of the city.
It was actually the second time I had been in the Cangrajal area. When I was in La Ceiba with the Colorado team last, I joined them on their first ever field trip. A local NGO took them on guided educational tours through the Pico Bonito National Forest and over some questionable bridges. I am looking to do a similar trip to another part of the forest in April.
My fun Saturday did not end there. I got a call from the organist, Nelson, who plays in a local rock band called the no names. He didn’t give me many details besides that he was playing in a concert and they were going on soon. Or at least that is what I thought I heard. So I grabbed a t-shirt and hopped in a cab. I knew I missed something when I noticed that every single person waiting outside to get into the concert was wearing black t-shirts, black jeans, and combat boots. Apparently, this was the first ever La Ceiba Metal Fest, being held to benefit a local charity that works with disabled children at the Lions International Club. I was wearing a Ben Folds T-Shirt, who if you are not familiar, is a piano player who could be considered the antithesis of the hard rock genre (you can hear both the lyrics and the notes). Undeterred, I bought a ticket and went in.
The venue was a bit oversized for the crowd in attendance, but Nelson’s band was the local opening act and I think the harder core rockers made a later entrance. It was one of the bands first acts so the performance was a little rough around the edges but they put on a good set. The crowd particularly liked their Pink Floyd and Metallica covers and who could not love Knockin’ On Heavens Door, Guns n’ Roses style blasting at 300 decibels (the guitar player nailed the solo). Good fun. We headed off for snacks in the park afterwards, preferring to avoid the ear splitting dissonant growling that was to follow. So all in all, it was a fun filled Saturday and although once again I failed to pass muster for Honduran dress code, I was just happy not to be soaking wet.
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