The first round

Let’s pretend that a week or two have not gone by since my last post, shall we? All right then. Ahem. On to our happenings...

I obviously have a lot to cover, so we’ll just take our sweet time and explore our travels in sections. Honduras. Ah, my treasured country. How I love you and how you’ve changed. Some things have not changed and probably never will, such as the warm embrace of the people, the genuine smiles from passersby, the wide variety of typical, scrumptious foods, the beautiful mountains...sigh. I could on and on if you’d care to read that much. Much has changed though. The neighborhood I grew up in, once a lazy, innocent adventure filled environment has turned into a full blown commercial zone. A corner that was once just an overgrown field is now a mall, complete with a casino and bowling alley. The streets that my brothers played chimini cuarta on (a version of hide and seek) and roamed around till late hours of the evening is now a long row of gated, high security houses, where residents look each way several times before opening their gates to leave the house. Taking a walk at night? Unthinkable. Might as well just go ahead and put a sign around your neck saying “rob me and kill me” because chances are, “they” will. Every. Single. Day. No joke. The front page of the newspaper depicts grotesque images of at least one murder that took place the day before. It is not unlikely to read about five or more such instances taking place in one day throughout the week. The boulevard where I used to spend entire days swinging around on the trees is now taken over by beggars. There is a woman who spends the day sitting in the hot sun begging for money, all the while holding a lethargic boy in her arms. Word has it that the boy is most likely drugged every day, in order that he would be able to just lay that way all day long. He has no physical defects. The corruption and the drug money that is taking over is truly...devastating.
I noticed all of these things and more, but I also noticed with love and patriotic pride how the people, the good people, despite the hardships they face and dislike, are just as loving, giving and joyful as ever. They are just as willing to be there for each other as they were in the “good ole’ days,” just as willing to hope for the best, even when chances are slim. I love them and I am honored to call myself a Catracha, a Honduran. I may not be legit by blood, but by birth, and upbringing and heart, I’m all there is to be. I thank God for that honor.

My pretty Momma and some of her lady friends.
(Doña Friiiida)

A Thompson and an Amaya...still playing together

The Amaya Family shared with us the best cook out possible on this earth.

Momma even got a little charismatic on us! Haha

Awww, my Papa

The Herdia fam. It was great to see them again!

My Mom, Hanzi and I all spoke at a lady's breakfast and at the end they gave us gifts. They gave me that necklace. See the welcome banner?

Such sweet friends we have.
What a blessing.