I Survived Comayaguela

Between the visits to Pollos Jimmy (our new favorite total dive bar as opposed to simply a dive bar) and the angry traffic cops, I think I have had my fill of Comayaguela for a little while. 
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.

Red Sox Open Season in One Month!

Spring Training has begun and while those exhibition games are just two days away from commencing, the real thing begins in about a month.  Oh, and by the way, the Sox start off the season as MLB's game numero uno against the ever-hated Yankees in ESPN's Sunday night game.  Should be an exciting start to an exciting season.

I am beyond eagerly awaiting the opening pitch as the Sox look to be a contender once again, especially with the off-season additions at center, third and on the mound.  These new Sox along with returning studs such as Pedroia and Youkilis are going to be part of a killer line-up when you include Victor Martinez for an entire season. 

Throw in the usual crew of horses such as Beckett and Lester, a re-stocked bullpen and a once again rabid Papelbon and the 2010 Red Sox are looking like they could wind up with their third World Championship in seven seasons.

And, as always, Yankees suck!

Photos From Around Amapala

Middle of town (Amapala)

Old casino in ruins along the shore

   B&E with Nicaragua behind us

Colonial building near the shore

El Tigre from nearby island

Elsa relaxing in hammock

The Island of El Tigre...Amapala, Honduras

Our weekend retreat from the city was El Tigre Island off the Pacific coast of Honduras.  The small, volcanic island is home to the village of Amapala, a quiet fishing community just a short boat-ride from the coast of both El Salvador, to the north, and Nicaragua, to the south.  The boat from the mainland takes about 30 minutes to arrive at Playa Grande on the far west side of the island.  As we slowly drift closer to the shore, the giant volcano that is the island begins to loom larger and the rocky shoreline unveils why this island is not crawling with tourists: there is little beach and a lot of black volcanic rock.  After passing the village of Amapala we carefully make our way through the treacherous rocks that are now underwater at high tide and arrive on the sandy beach in front of a collection of make-shift shacks.  "Big Beach" will be our home of sorts for the next 48 hours as we relax and soak up the ambience of Honduras on the Pacific.

The shacks that line this part of the island have gradually sprung up as more and more people begin to flock to El Tigre for a little r-n-r from the busy city of Tegucigalpa just less than three hours drive from the dock in Coyolito, the village that serves as the docking point on the mainland.  We arrive on a Friday so we have nearly the entire place to ourselves until early Saturday when many Hondurans begin to show up.  Until then we make ourselves comfortable at a little "restaurant" that serves up the freshest of seafood and the cheapest beer we can find.  This weekend our travel-mates are Mike and Mavis (a Canadian couple from Toronto who teach 5th and English), Collin and Elisa (another couple from Tennessee who teach history and English) and our usual compadre, Keeley (a biology teacher from Stanford, Montana.)  The seven of us set out early in the morning in our silver Montero and are now enjoying the first cerveza of the day before the noon sun.  A few more of these and we begin to order our first delicious meal of fish and shrimp straight out of the Gulf of Fonseca (the waters that surround the island.)  We finish up our first day at the ocean by taking a two-hour tuk-tuk ride around the perimeter of the island, stopping frequently to inspect the neighboring beaches, take in the views of Nicaragua to the south and watch a passing herd of brama cattle pass down the road on their way home.

The following morning begins early as we awake before dawn to head back to the beach and catch a boat for a morning tour.  However, our friend, Keeley, begins his day in the room next door to us with a little surprise. After turning on the shower, his bathroom quickly begins to fill with bees until he must escape the buzz and stuff towels under the door to keep the swarm from spreading out into his room.  Fortunately, the family who runs our hotel is also up early and someone is available to help him move to a new room.  Life in Honduras.

After breakfast we start our day with a ride in the back of a pick-up from our hotel in Amapala about 10 minutes from the beach.  We arrive at Playa Grande around 7:30 am in time to catch our boat, captained by a dark, lanky guy named Ramon and wearing a Dodgers cap along with his sidekick who would remain nameless were in not for our dubbing him "Gilligan" after his obvious inability to properly navigate his own boat.  By the time we ship out, the wind has picked up and we will now spend the following two hours bucking the tides and being sprayed by the salty water on our way to the mangroves on the north shore. 

Our excitement to view the mangroves is cut short as we approach the green coastline only to find that low tide means we will have to get out of the boat and walk at least a mile or more through the shell-strewn mud to reach them.  After about 15 minutes of trudging we wisely give up and return to the boat while getting in some shell hunting.  Elsa's favorites are the sand dollars and the little curly-cues that often contain little creatures unwilling to give up their homes.  But she climbs back in the boat with muddy feet and a pocket full of new shells for her ongoing collection.

The rest of the morning is spent puttering around the islands before we stop on a long sandy beach for a little swimming and some snacks before launching back to our home base and the comfort of yet more Honduran cerveza. 

We spend the afternoon lying in hammocks and eating seafood with our friends and trying our best to stay out of the hot sun as we have had our fill from being in the open boat all morning.  Luckily, the combination of sunscreen and salt that covered us after our wet ride have prevented any serious sunburns and we can kick back for five or six hours of staring out at the sea.  Our view contains plenty of children playing in the surf as well as the ever-present volcanoes of El Salvador that line the horizon to the west. The latter half of the afternoon are spent in the company of three little boys who we treat to some cookies and pepsi.  They insist on lingering around our little, blue table in the sand in hopes of getting some spare change but we resist their requests and stick to feeding them and engaging them in some conversation.  Jose, Nemo and PeeWee eventually give up their quest for cash and slump down in the plastic beach chairs to enjoy their sodas and snacks.

We ride to our hotel just after sunset in the back of the pick-up once again to enjoy some dinner on the second floor balcony of our little hotel which clings to the side of the steep volcano.

Sunday morning is the same as the day before except we are allowed to sleep in a little and no one awakes to a hive of bees in their bathroom.  We get back to the beach around 9 am and have a couple of hours to wait for our friends to return from a hike and captain Ramon to appear at the beach with his boat, The Mary Jesus.  The name of the boat must be the reason it is still afloat as Ramon does not appear to have any greater navigational skills than "Gilligan" who is mysteriously no where to be seen this morning.  Jose, the little boy from the day before, is there to help us put our bags in the boat and finally earn his coveted dinero.  We wave good-bye to him and he flashes us a big, white smile as we shove off for the mainland and our drive back to the city.

Mystery in Triangulo

I have been spending a little time lately wondering who has moved into the apartment building across the street from us in the Triangulo neighborhood.  Roughly two months ago, we were on our way to school and as we backed our SUV into the street we noticed a uniformed policeman standing in the middle of the three-way intersection outside our front door.  It was strange to see him there as we live in a small neighborhood between two major traffic areas in the northeastern quadrant of the city but it is an upscale location and there is virtually none of the commotion that you commonly find in the rest of Tegucigalpa.  Later that day, we arrived home to find that he was now absent from his morning post.

That night, I happened to look out the bedroom window on my way to bed and noticed our policeman back in the middle of the street but this time he seemed to be joined by two men who were dressed in the customary bodyguard/security guard garb which typically includes a pocketed vest like you often see on cameramen or fishing enthusiasts.  Day after day this trio became common place in front of our building - mostly during the early morning and late night but occasionally at various other points in the day.  It has only been on rare occasion that I happened to spot the center of all this attention: a young looking, seemingly Honduran man who is always dressed in athletic style gear.  This, along with his slight stature, has led me to assume he is involved with one of the various soccer teams that are immensley popular throughout the country, possibly the national team which recently qualified for the World Cup and set off a frenzy throughout Honduras. 

Another peculiar aspect to the mystery man's presence over the past two months is the fact that the vehicle in which he is transported each day has never been equipped with license plates. The very clean Toyota Prado SUV has highly tinted windows like many vehicles around the city and seems to be the vehicle of choice among many of the extremely well-off Hondurans we see every day at the American School. Armed bodyguards are also nothing unusual around here but seeing two armed men in plain clothes teamed with a uniformed policeman who is packing a shotgun and a handgun is a slightly less common sight.

Today we had a sighting of the mystery man as he left his building around 4:30 pm with his three handlers.  This time I was fortunate enough to be able to capture the entire episode on camera.

It's interesting to have a little neghborhood mystery once in a while.  It's just a little unsettling that it involves a crew of men with some serious firepower.