The longest Tuesday

I was on the Robert Q at midnight to drive to the Detroit Airport with nothing but a t-shirt and jeans on. I have to say I was rather frio (cold). I experienced the usual interrogation at the border, but I think I got it worse than the rest because I was travelling along, and he didn’t like my learning Spanish alibi. Nevertheless, I was sitting in a deserted Detroit Wayne Airport at 3am waiting to board my 6:30am flight to Miami.

I had no problems boarding (My luggage was only 24lbs! Most of the other travelers were struggling to fit their stuff in one 50lb bag), and I got a window seat. We arrived around 9:30am. I discovered that Miami is half Spanish so I got to practice speaking a little bit. Flight to San Pedro Sula was conflict free, and despite being a much smaller and rougher airport the landing was the smoothest.

The next part was the scariest because I really had no idea what I was supposed to do. Customs let me in much easier this time then last time, even though I have the same ridiculous passport photo. Then I found the bus company I was looking for which was scheduled to leave at 2:15pm and then not again until 6:30pm. Luckily the driver was laid back and seemed in no rush to leave so I got on the bus! A bunch of other English speaking Americans were on the bus, which took us to downtown San Pedro Sula so we could transfer to the appropriate bus. I was expecting a shuttle van like last time, but boy did I get a surprise. How about a first class air conditioned coach bus. I felt like I was sitting on a couch. In fact the service was better than American Airlines. We got snacks, blankets, drinks, newspapers, and movies. Unfortunately, the 3 hour bus ride was still on speed bump infested roads that got increasingly curvy, and thus I had to focus most of my attention on not vomiting my airport food everywhere.  (I was successful by the way). I arrived in Copan at 6:30pm, a mere 18 hours since I left home, and I guess I haven’t slept since Sunday night.

I will try, to explain what it was like arriving in Copan for the second time. I am not going to lie, the longer the travel time lasted the more I wished I could just go home and curl up in my bed. After stepping off the bus into a “cold” 60 something degrees Fahrenheit, (due to a couple days of cloud cover) and walking through Central Park again everything came flooding back. I knew where home was, I recognized buildings, and I got excited to see my Honduran family! After catching up with Mama Gilma, not 20 mins later she was forcing me to eat supper. I swear she works in the Kitchen 8 hours a day - Minimum. My appetite was recovering from the bus ride and I enjoyed: Scrambled eggs, with fried ham, mashed frijholes (beans), fried plantains (banana), a special cheese,  and a white sauce to dip whatever I wanted to. The meal was topped off with a freshly boiled pineapple tea. Eso estuve muy rico!

Thank-you so much for all of your prayer’s and support. I really appreciate it.

This blog is exceptionally long, and I don’t imagine that this will continue. 

Talk to you all soon!