what a trip

Okay - so as much as I wanted to post while I was on vacation, it just didn't happen. I tried, really I did but I was constantly surrounded by family wanting to spend time so I couldn't sneak away to a computer even for a moment.

Here's the random and fast-track low-down on my trip:

First day:

After a long waiting game at both the Seattle and Houston airports (below: Lenny catching some zzz's between flights),

we finally arrived in San Pedro Sula (SPS). On our connecting flight from Houston to SPS, I sat beside an 85 year old Honduran woman who didn't speak any English and recounted her whole life story to me as Lenny listened to my ipod. I helped her with her customs forms and had to hold her hand steady as she attempted her signature -- awww!

And finally, touchdown. First reaction? It was so freakin' hot. The minute I stepped out of the air conditioned airport, my jeans were soaked. I know, gross. It was over 40 degrees with crazy humidity...all I kept thinking was "global warming man, global warming". It was never this hot in SPS when I lived there...and my cousin says it's been getting worse. But despite the heat, I hugged my family like crazy after not seeing them for 8 years. My family took us straight to the mall where there is a/c. And after eating, all I wanted was a bed.

Day 2:

Spent the day in town and at the mall, can you believe it? When in Rome...do as the locals do. Malls are a new concept in SPS and therefore, it's now become the place to go...like a tourist attraction.

My family lives with meager means...and do not have the luxury of a/c in their homes. Therefore, sitting at home chatting is inconceivable. So we went to various markets to buy a few souvenirs...then to the mall to eat "clean food".

After lunch, Lenny and I both got pedicures (the Lenny pedicure thing is not to leave this post) as a little girl sat nearby listening to our conversation. She pretended like she was reading a magazine and we both just assumed she didn't speak English...but she interjected with "where ya from?" with a New Jersey accent. Cutest thing ever...she didn't stop talking to us...she joined me in making fun of Lenny getting his feet dipped in paraffin wax. She eventually told me that I confuse my spanish as she heard me talking to my aunt. Good to know -- now I know i've been away too long!

The whole family arrived at my aunt's place that night with 2 year old kids in tow (that's my little niece Hilary who kept giving me mad face -- such a doll though with her side ponytail!).

It felt so good to be around my big family again. I bought my cousin and uncle digital cameras and they were taking pictures of everything -- from the food, to the kids dancing. Lenny got by when it came to Spanish. He understood everything but would reply back in Portuguese. Everyone was all smiles and stares back at him, and I would have to translate. But it was cute, he really tried and would get so into it trying to spanish-ize his portuguese.

Day 3:
Finally -- the relaxing part of my vacation. Our trip to the Bay Islands/Roatan began early in the morning. We woke up at 7am, showered and waited for my grandma. You see, initially Lenny and I had planned a little romantic 5 day get-away for just the two of us...but upon landing in SPS, my grandma says to me "so who's going to Roatan with you?" with a big smile on her face. I said "whoever wants to come!" knowing that she was hinting that she wanted to come. My cousin who had originally told me she couldn't come with us a month ago, was now able to get time off work but only for four days. So the four of us it was..and I had to cut our trip by one day (including 2 days travel time).

Happy to have travel companions to alleviate Lenny's worries of getting robbed on our way there, we set off to the "aeropuerto de los pobres" as my uncle called it, the "airport for the poor"...or the bus station. After purchasing first class tickets for the four of us, we boarded our bus and I popped my headphones on (thanks Rawbean, I loaded up with some of your current faves and was in heaven) and away we went. 3 hours later, we arrived in La Ceiba -- one of the most dangerous areas in Honduras. We tried to barter with an angry cab driver (he wouldn't lower his price and had already put all our baggage in his trunk) and he drove us to the ferry terminal -- we were a bit weary because he drove us through some sketchy areas. But we made it all in one piece.

The ferry was interesting -- this time we opted out of "first class" and sat at the back of the boat with all the locals. Noticing throughout the ride that people were throwing up all over the place made for a queasy ride. I did my best to hold it together and keep my grape soda from reappearing...and we finally arrived in paradise.

Now you see, Roatan is an island in Honduras where foreigners go to scuba dive, lie on the white sandy beaches and gorge at resorts. They typically arrive by airplane and are whisked away to their resort. We chose the local way of getting there...bus, ferry, taxi...and felt the repercussions. It was a half hour drive to get to Las Rocas and we were already exhausted. Driving through Coxen Hole late at night felt a bit unsafe...but FINALLY, we arrived.

We arrived just before 9pm and were taken to our cabins. I booked an extra cabin for my grandma and cousin...and they were devastated. They wanted to stay in the same cabin as Lenny and I so we could stay up talking all night. We needed some alone time...so the following day, I told them that Lenny doesn't like going to the bathroom with anyone else in the room.

Sidenote and fodder for another post: the bathrooms in every cabin have no ceiling...and I wasn't lying about Lenny's shame of gawd forbid, anyone hearing him go to the bathroom. He actually kicked me out everytime he had to go to the bathroom, no matter the number (1 or 2). He even went as far as to walk to the restaurant to go to the bathroom late at night because I wouldn't go outside to sit on the hammock. It's totally loco. I seriously have never heard the guy fart. It's inhuman!

Anyways, so my grandma had a good laugh about Lenny. We ate dinner, me a salad (I now know to NEVER eat salad in countries with less than stellar water cleanliness), Lenny the lobster...and my grandma and cousin (Audely) at first chose not to eat because it was too expensive (we were paying). We forced them to eat finally and then went to bed.

Day 4:

Ugh sick. The bathroom was my best friend. Eating nothing but white foods, I did my best to lie on the beach as my grandma, Lenny and Aude went swimming in the crystal blue water. Then one of the water taxi drivers charged us $160 (american) to go and see dolphins, starfish and the Roatan museum. That's my grandma and I pretending to be sea creatures at the bottom of the ocean...don't we look like crabs?

The dolphins were caged at this mad luxury resort and forced to swim with people who paid $100pp. The monkeys at the Gumba Limba Park (highlighted and dog-eared in my travel guide) were dying apparently because they were taken out of their natural habitat...therefore, I decided not to go see them and boycott the park!

Day 5:

I learned the art of saying no to the hundreds of vendors that attack you on the beach. I gave them this firm "no gracias" and mimicked my grandma by waving them away with my arm. I felt guilty afterwards because I come from a "have" country -- and they "have-not" but you can't solve the worlds problems by buying a necklace. The kid below looked just like a young Ray Liotta (does he not?) so I asked if I could take his picture if I bought a few necklaces...poor thing...but he told me that he gets paid well and was saving to buy a pair of sneakers.

Lenny was surrounded by kids selling. He would stare at the jewelry as he was saying no and therefore they assumed that he was interested...and when they didn't go away, he would pull out some $ and buy something from each one. He's such a sucker...and has a big heart...

Day 6:

We had to make our way back to San Pedro Sula already. Still sick, I attempted to eat something substantial for lunch. We walked briskly to a burger joint in La Ceiba (there was a shooting by local drug lords the night before and everyone was warning us to be careful). We ate burgers near the bus station and got on the bus an hour later.

I spent the bus ride up and down to the bathroom, feeling nauseous. My grandma handed me a towel in case I need to throw up...and I did. And didn't stop for the next two days.

Day 7:

SICK. My aunt Nena and grandma came up with all these crazy remedies to make me stop vomiting...corn meal, alka seltzer in coca-cola, cinnamon tea? what the hell. I tried them all to no avail. And back to the sweaty hot bathroom with no working fan to expunge all the lovely homemade remedies.

Day 8:

In the hospital, hooked up to the IV -- dehydrated as a mo'fo' -- still vomiting and having to wheel my bag of fluid to the bathroom with me as the nurse watched.

I finally slept and woke up surrounded by my whole family watching the Honduras/Canada soccer game in my private room. I asked for water because I was so damned thirsty but the doctor didn't allow it. So I went back to sleep. At night, Lenny had to squeeze himself onto my hospital bed to sleep with me as my cousin Audely slept on a cot in the room.

Day 9:

I felt a thousand times better -- apparently had colour back in my face. I was just happy to be alive (that's me, feeling better below).

The nurse brought me orange juice and two pieces of white toast. And I was able to keep it down in my empty/hungry/sore tummy. Lenny had packed our bags and gotten them ready for our flight back to Canada. My grandma said "first things first" and took me to a salon to get my hair done because she thought my hair looked really sad (and she was right). Here we are four hours later -- and I have that nice after-diarrhea/vomiting glow:

I held on tightly to my family at the airport -- and went through security as they watched us through the window from below. "I'll be back" I mouthed to them and waved. Aw. So sad. I was so sad and lost in thought that I walked into the men's bathroom without noticing while waiting near our departure gate -- and confused an American guy when I opened his door as he stood there peeing. He exclaimed "oh, i'm in the wrong bathroom!" when it was actually me.

I didn't eat on the plane because they handed out these nasty chicken sandwiches -- and we didn't have time between our connecting flight for me to find something bearable to my weakened stomach. Pizza on the next flight, oh joy. Lenny was loving it, eating up all my food. So I drank orange juice and sipped on water. We made it to the Seattle airport and I bought a huge bag of kettle chips, salt and black pepper. mmmmm nothing ever tasted so good.

Day 10:

Back in Vancouver at 1 in the morning -- and back to work the next day.

In summary, all I have to say is "what a trip".