And then I found myself out in the hot Honduran sun, waiting for the ride who arrived nearly an hour after the designated time. I passed the minutes by flipping through my dictionary and pretending I was not reading a dictionary whenever anyone passed by. I learned that there must be 30 families living in the house next to my apartment (slight exaggeration) and that I am really, really bad at speaking Spanish (evidenced by attempting to tell a distraught little boy that his mom was across the street).
Finally my student arrived, and we were off!
Not quite. We went back to her house twice, picked up her older brother "Ohh! Miss Whyte!" and cousin, picked up and dropped off food, met more relatives and I was invited to a birthday party.
THEN we were off. To the caves!
The cave smelled like clay and was lit by floodlights. As you can see, a walkway directed our path throughout the public access areas--- but just in case, we also had a guide. The guide pointed out interesting things, like the fact that it takes 50-100 years for the stalactites to grow one centimeter.
He also pointed out some not-so interesting things, like formations resembling a dog and the map of Honduras... I felt like I was cloud-gazing. Never did "see" the dog, but then again I can never find Waldo either.
The tour finished up at a museum where a reconstruction of the skulls that had been taken out was on display. I have no problems with the concept of reconstruction... but in this case, to imitate the iridescence of the cave, someone had the brilliant idea of painting the skulls with glitter glue! It looked like a really cheesy Halloween prop.
The vessels in the museum were original and rather fascinating-- dating from (supposedly) 500-40 years B.C.
Next we ate at a nearby restaurant. My students' mom ordered a hamburger and fries for me and a plate of typical food for the rest of the table. The hamburger was the last thing I wanted to eat and was more than a little relieved when we agreed to share it. (And by "share" I mean I had a few fries!)
The drive home was probably my favorite part. Against his sister's protest, my other student blared mariachi music and we visited his father's farm as the sun was drenching the countryside in gold. It was absolutely beautiful. The windows were down, the mountains were surrounding us and cherry blossoms arched over our pathway. Ok--maybe they weren't cherry blossoms-- but they were beautiful, whatever they were! It was so wonderful. I wanted him to drive slower so that I could take it all in-- it was all rushing by so fast. (Incidentally, his mother also wanted him to drive slower! :P)
They dropped me off and I promptly headed out to satisfy my sugar fix. It was getting really dark but I really wanted to try a new pastry shop I'd heard about across town. So off I sped, passing Hondurans left and right... I might as well have been running. The entire trip I kept having the devastating thought that maybe the shop had already closed-- but I was not to worry. Desserts were purchased and I was returning-- only to have a car pull up beside me and slow down. CREEPY! Except then the windows rolled down and I heard, "Hannah! What are you doing?!?" And then I only had to lift my bag to show off the desserts and Elba died laughing. She says I am getting drunk/ addicted off of these desserts. It may be true.
They drove me home and I capped off my night with delicious desserts.
And now I need to start my Productivity Day!
(LONG blog!!! Sorry, I've had way too much verbal diarrhea lately!)
Woah. After the yeats post and the other blog link my heart is now very heavy. and yet...
ReplyDelete“Don’t ever say that I lost my battle with cancer,” Tasha once said. And she didn’t. The gospel is true. The cancer is dead. Natasha lives. And we will see her again.