Away to Honduras

Journal Entry Sunday August 16
Written Sunday August 23, 2009
6:30 am

It has been a long time since I started one of these, too long. I am sitting at the desk in the “office”. That is the room between the two bedrooms of this apartment. From the window I look out onto the mountain side, lush green rising up to the sky and a few other homes perched on the side. I can look out onto the top of the fruit tree next door with granny smith apple-like fruits that look like I could reach out and pick them…except that I would have to climb and stand on our compound wall to reach them. It has been only 11 days since Debbie’s email offering me the art position at Discovery School.

What a wild ride, one I could not have managed without Johanna and Kevin’s support. Johanna, making all my travel arrangements, packing and supply coordinator and Chicago passport run driver. Kevin, getting my new computer up and running, warranted and orienting me to it so I can make best use of it. The passport delay gave me a couple of days to catch my breath and rest up before take off. We packed the car Friday night with my overweight luggage and got a few hours sleep before our 3:00 am wake up to get to the airport by 4:30am. Johanna and I left a sleeping Kevin and Freya and headed for the new airport. This was Johanna’s first drive to the new terminal. Neither one of us had been into the new terminal with all of its art installations, my eyes were full already. When we checked in at Continental I had the option of upgrading to first class for only $99. I couldn’t say yes fast enough. We had a sigh of relief. The extra luggage allowance for first class more than covered my bags. Then we relaxed with a Starbucks coffee until it was time to set me on my way.

The first leg of my flight went smoothly and I hiked across the Houston airport to the international terminal and my connecting flight to Tegucigalpa. I checked the gate number and my ticket and sat down for a forty minute wait. Then I noticed people lining up with their tickets in hand and decided I had better do the same. Standing in line I noticed the destination on the board behind the desk was not Tegucigalpa – don’t know what it was but it did not start with a T – I decided I better check the departures board…oops! Gate change! Wrong gate! It was a fast hike to the opposite end of the terminal and then a short 10 minute wait to board. So glad I had upgraded. That was the only drama of my flight until we approached Honduras and I could look down on emerald green wrapped in wisps of clouds and edged with white surf from the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea, a couple of wing tilting turns and a quick drop and stop onto the shortest airport runway in the world.

Another perk for first class is to be first off the plane, first in line at immigration and first baggage off the plane, a helpful porter put my luggage onto a cart.
He plunged ahead through customs and without a pause or blink I was out the door looking at the sea of faces waiting to greet passengers. There was Debbie front and center in bright pink calypso pants and top and close on her heals was Reynaldo who commandeered the bags while Debbie and I laughed and hugged. She whipped out some lempira to pay the porter – he waved her away since I had already paid him in dollars. A short walk to the waiting van and we were off.
It felt a bit like Toad’s Wild Ride, weaving along narrow curved roads and up and down steep hills. Tegucigalpa is “set in the mountains at 1,000 meters. It is an old mining settlement that…grew out to take over an entire valley”. Right above Tegucigalpa is the cloud forest LaTigra. Everything is terraced onto the mountains that surround the valley. I have not seen downtown (old town) yet. Maybe it has some flat spaces. Ahhh, we pull up to Debbie’s apartment building (six units) and I am in my new home for the year.

The apartment is on the first floor we walk down a flight to get to it and down another flight to get to the car park. It has three bedrooms two baths, living room/dining room, kitchen, laundry room (washer and dryer) and a balcony full of large potted tropical plants. From the balcony you look down and over the city to the school perched high on the mountainside across the valley. You can just make out the red tiled roof in the surrounding green. My room has a very comfortable bed with a table on one side and a bamboo bookshelf on the other side. A rattan settee and a very large double door closet along one wall. There is a large window that opens onto the mountain side and over looks a small patio with large potted plants. My bath is just across the hall, blue and white tile and a large shower.

We fix a bite to eat and chat a bit and then we are off to visit the school and see a bit of the city. The school is fairly new construction. There are four terrace levels. You enter at the top. Fortunately my room is on the ground floor of the first building. That means I walk down a flight to get to my room and up two flights to get to the copy machine and mailboxes. Stairs are good for me.
The art room (as expected) is very poorly equipped. Worse than school 55 but with no paper! It is a bit of a mess. The teacher taking leave made his decision at the last minute…I would like to think he would have cleaned it up a bit but really doubt it. Hundreds of small paint bottles mostly empty or dried out. A large stack of once crumpled packing paper from the library book shipment – six pairs of scissors (three are left handed), bits and pieces of pastels and oil pastels, lots and lots of plastic bowls (all sizes, all dirty) and a sink encrusted with acrylic paint.
No construction paper, no drawing paper of any kind. There is a roll of brown paper and a package of very thin almost tissue-like brown paper.

Back at home I spend the rest of the day unpacking and settling in, sitting on the balcony and chatting. The day ends with rain with lots of thunder and lightning. Debbie keeps all of the windows and patio doors open all of the time. They all have screens and the overhang is such that rain would rarely come in. A gentle breeze drifts through the apartment almost all the time. I cannot remember the last time I slept with windows wide open with a complete sense of safety and security. It was a good first day in Honduras.