Walking the streets of Juticalpa

It's funny how familiar sights and sounds can make a place feel like home. We walk everywhere here and very often, I am comforted by the people and scenery encountered on frequently traveled streets.

When I leave my house, I pass through a metal gate and watch the pigs, snouts down, digging through a heap of burnt trash in the alley. As I turn onto Calle Guatemala, I wave hello to a friend, the security guard for Supermercado Las Palmas, an older man with an AK47 strapped across his chest. It is his job to protect the store, owned by Cira, the aunt of two of my students. Everyday, he greets me with "Que le vaya bien." To the right, I pass the crazy church, always with the door open, tambourines clanging and wild singing. To the left, I take a glance at the arena, where a soccer game is played everyday. It's always shirts against skins and there are no women in the crowd of spectators. Across the street, in a meadow next to Hotel Boqueron where horses graze, a group of young boys imitate the men across the street with a soccer game of their own. From there, I pass the little dog with the streak of purple spray paint on his back, sleeping on the sidewalk. On the way to Annie's apartment, I avert my gaze from the lingering stares of adolescent boys sitting on the steps of the Pollo Store. I always gaze up at Annie's balcony to see if the door is open and if it is, I buzz for a visit. Or, I continue to my favorite ciber café, where I always see Bayardo's mom and where Roberto and Fatima work. Roberto and Fatima love my roommates and I and are quick to ask where we've been if we haven't stopped by in a couple of days. If I continue to the park, I usually see Wilmer's grandmother, selling cigarettes, candies and cd's at her little booth. If I go to the market, I will stop by and talk to Maria Ines, the costura who designed our uniforms and told us the secret to making the best corn tortillas. Sometimes, I stop by Michael's mom's store or Agape, the Catholic bookstore in town, or the Pupuseria, where the owner knows exactly what I'm going to order before I can tell him. It's amazing to have lived here for such a short amount of time and have this feeling of connection with the streets of Juticalpa. But, this is just how it is.