Costa Rica and the All-Honduran road trip

Here we are, in the almost-April-swing-of-things. Semana Santa was fantastic and refreshing. I met my parents in San Jose, Costa Rica and it only took one night in the Hampton Inn- with air conditioning, hot water and carpet- for me to feel like I was on another planet.

Costa Rica was a beautiful country and easy to travel. Nearly everyone speaks English (it's the country's second language) and there are basically tourist trails carved out of the mountains. We rode in air conditioned shuttle buses that played American music and stopped every hour for a bathroom break. This clearly was not Honduras, and therefore, it was like paradise for me.

Mom, Dad and I visited Alajuela and San Jose and stayed in Quepos, near Manual Antonio National Park. Quepos is a cute, little, Pacific coast fishing town where I had visited four years earlier, during Spring Break. From Quepos, we were able to take some fun day trips. We kayaked through the mangroves and zipped through the rainforest on a canopy line. The canopy experience was awesome! I was so proud of Mom for buckling in and swinging from wire cables, one hundred feet in the air. The views were incredible. One day, we hiked through Manuel Antonio National Park and went wild when we saw monkeys swinging on trees two feet in front of of us. Later, we travelled to Volcan Poas, north of San Jose. Unfortunately, it was a misty-rainy day and we didn't get to see any of the volcano, but we did get to stop by a beautiful coffee plantation and pass through Sarchi, the artesan town of Costa Rica. It was so good to be with Mom and Dad and I loved being in Costa Rica (again). However, being there made me sad for Honduras. The countries have virtually the same terrain and culture. In Costa Rica though, tourism money and political choices have made for a decent economy, a good system of education and a population where ninety percent of the people are part of the middle class. The highways are newly paved, most of the homes are nice and I never once saw a little kid running around without shoes.

From Costa Rica, I returned to Tegucigalpa to meet up with Carlos and we journeyed to San Pedro Sula to reunite with Jessica and Stephanie. Then, the four of us made what felt like the All-Honduran road trip: we piled in the truck and headed for the north coast. During Semana Santa, anyone who has a car (or a bus or a semi) heads for Carribean. Hondurans pile everyone they can into the pilas and go. The highways are crowded and fast and at one time, I did see a tractor trailer truck packed with people- several with legs dangling from the back- whiz by at 80 mph. We beached at Puerto Cortez, but only for a day. It was packed beyond anything I have ever seen in the States. We were strangely out of place, wearing bathing suits (most Hondurans just swim in their clothes) and searching for a quiet, sandy spot to put our towels. Later, we made our way down to Los Naranjos by Lake Yojoa (Honduras's only lake), where Jess, Steph and I bunked in a cabin at a brewery and relaxed. On Easter Sunday, we tried for mass, but missed the only one in town. So, we watched soccer, walked to the lake and hung out at a pulperia, making friends with the only English-speaking man around.

The next day, we rode the chicken buses back to Tegus, where we reunited with Katherine- another Olancho Aider from Tennessee- and then made our way back to Juticalpa. Somewhere along the chicken bus ride (maybe when the little girl next to me was throwing up in a plastic bag?) I caught a little cold. I've spent this whole week coughing, pausing to teach for a second, and then coughing again. Ahh, but it's Saturday and just because of that, I think I might be starting to feel better!