27th of june

and so the next day which was thursday marianne and i woke up in our hotel and for breakfast decided to explore the typical honduran food. it was good!the meal consisted of corn tortillas, bean paste, fried eggs and a coffee. later that same day we had a typical honduran lunch which basically had the same ingredients plus avocado, meat and rice. simple but delicious and stomach friendly food. i don´t know how long i´ll be able to look at beans and say "mmm delicious" but it was a good start. and so on thursday it was time to leave the city of san pedro sula which during the daytime looked mildly put shabby with no proper pavements and the electricity cables running above your head. the daytime impression of san pedro sula was as depressing as the night time one. however one gets used to everything very fast and dodging the garbage on the streets seemed quite natural after a few hours of walking. not that there would be many places where to go or hang out because all seemed to be exactly the same and the city center had nothing to do with our typical perception of a city center. what locals refer to as a central park in real life is a small square where people sit about and chat. there is also a cathedral in a colonial style and the tallest building is a bank. the bank in its turn is guarded by at least some 10 men with guns, actually any place that had anything valuable in it like an electronics store would have a couple of armed men guarding it. rather shocking at first, but then on the other hand it feels way safer to take your money from the bank machine when you have guys with guns around you checking out the situation. san pedro sula is quite a dangerous place after all and that's why it is vital to do what ever you have to do BEFORE it gets dark which is at about 6pm. after this time it is simply too dangerous for the foreigners especially to go out on a street, moreover to an unknown part of the town since it could be populated by gang members. so given the hostile environment of san pedro sula marianne and i packed our stuff and took a taxi to the bus station to catch the first bus out of san pedro sula. the taxi driver was very chatty and friendly and dropped us off right at the station and happily waved good-bye. one thing he however purposefully forgot to tell us was that that day all of the buses of the country were on strike so there was no way to get out of the city. after sitting for one hour, another hour at the bus station listening to "maybe it'll be over by 1pm....then....it'll certainly be over by 5pm" we figured out no one knew when the strike would be over. there are no railways in honduras so the only means of transportation lies in the bus companies (or quite expensive airplanes). no buses-no jorney anywhere. hence after some hours spent in vane at the bus terminal it was time to get the taxi back to the hotel and hope the bus strike would be over by the next day, which was friday. while chilling at the bus terminal we got some company in a form of a canadian girl heather who was initially going to the island utila but was stuck in san pedro sula like we were and a chatty local chap fernando who accompanied us back to the city and showed around some places and well in general told us a bit about life in san pedro sula. that was the positive side of spending an extra day in the city. btw the curious thing about the local population and well i guess latino people in general:after the standard questions about the name, country etc you inevitably get asked if you have a significant other. there the questions however don´t end but rather get even more personal. it is definately odd at first but then one gets used to it and even develops a standard answer for these situations. marianne has even made a chart or more like a possibility tree called "conversations with latinos" where a certain answer leads to a certain question. so far, this chart has not failed even once :D.
Friday was then the day of the second try to get out of san pedro sula. we were told the strike was over and surprise surprise there was the same taxi driver driving us all over again with all our stuff to the same bust terminal. this time he was not very talkative. and so we got on that bus. taking a bus is definately an experience in honduras. all public buses are these old yellow american school buses which US probably donated to honduras and the whole front window is covered in stickers like "may god bless this bus and all its passengers" or "jesus=life, sin=death" and a whole bunch of crucifixes hanging here and there. it sort of makes the person who gets on this bus immediately think that most likely this bus runs only thanks to the holy spirit, because i presume the condition of the bus and the lowest quality diesel fuel contribute to the effect that this vehicle is not going to get far. people on the bus however are all very calm and no one even seems to mind the horribly loud radio and the reggaeton that is imposed on every single passenger of the bus. i guess the most important quality of the bus driver in this country is creative approach and stress resistance while the boy selling the tickets while the bus is driving like crazy has to be agile and posess a good memory to remember who paid and yet has to pay for the ride. there are many women with small children, even babies on the bus but no one seems to mind one bit babies screaming their heads off and reggaeton further violating your ears and the heavy mansoon rains that wash that road off the face of the earth and the steep up hill which causes immense trouble to the bus. after all as the old man by the lake yojoa told us "it is all in the hands of god".