I stumbled across the little red building on the corner of the block as Keeley and I cruised out of the weekend market in Comayaguela a couple of months back. The mere mention of Tegucigalpa's "twin city" strikes fear into the hearts of even native Hondurans who have never known the city when it was not the poor little crime-ridden collection of barrios on the wrong side of the Rio Choluteca. But me being the person I am, I am always looking for those places that inspire a closer look even if only due to their reputation of being forbidden. So it was no surprise to me that we found ourselves pulling up along the crumbling curb outside this odd little building in the middle of a sunny Saturday afternoon.
Elsa, Keeley and I had headed up the northern hills earlier that morning to check out the view from Picacho (where the giant Jesus statue surveys the city) and see what creatures call the nearby zoo home. While there we ran into a few of our friends from the school and offered to give them a ride back into town. So with Kallie, Mike and Mavis aboard, I navigated the Montero down the narrow, curvy streets to the bottom of the hill and into the neighborhood know as El Centro. When talk of grabbing an afternoon beer surfaced the perfct opportunity to check out a new watering hole was on the table. I maneuvered our ride through the busy streets of the Camayaguela market and up the hill to "Jimmy's."
With trepidatious looks and comments from everyone in the vehicle it seemed as if I was making a grave mistake but I soldiered on into the dimmly lit bar and sized up the happenings within. There were a few tired looking men sitting along the walls on each side of a small, undecorated cement room. They were each occupying their own red, plastic table with varying numbers of empty bottles standing in front of them awaiting the final tally from the waitress who gave the impression she would rather be anywhere else but had no where else to be. We sat down at the only table in the center of the room and collected enough plastic chairs to seat the six of us - ordered a round of beers and took in the atmosphere of the place. This trip was uneventful other than the inital rush of adrenaline from hanging out in a part of town we had all heard warnings of. The beers arrived at the table and we all chatted up a nervous storm while we finished them off, all the while listening to the American rock music that was suddenly playing on the miniature juke-box that stood near the counter.
Upon leaving, everyone began commenting in disbelief that they had braved this seemingly dangerous part of town and actually enjoyed themselves in the little "hole-in-the-wall"amid the other patrons that gawked at us the entire time.
