We were There!

Yesterday’s news reported a 7.1-magnitude earthquake rocking Honduras. It rocked us too. A mere four months ago we were there … right at the epicenter. Or close.

We spent almost a week on Roatán, one of the Bay Islands off the north coast of Honduras. That island—a favorite stop on our seven week trek—was a 1-1/2 hour ferry ride from the mainland. It was also nearest to the reported epicenter of the earthquake, just 80 miles northeast of La Ceiba in the Caribbean Sea.

We traveled through many of the areas reportedly affected by the earthquake. Our journey took us from Cancún, Mexico, through Belize, and on to Honduras via water ferry. From there we bused from Puerto Cortés to La Ceiba. En route we changed buses at a shopping mall in San Pedro Sula. There a hotel receptionist, Raul Gonzalez, reported to the Associated Press that guests ran into the street in their pajamas when the 2:24 a.m. earthquake struck. “It was really strong,” he said, “I have never felt anything like that.”

Our bus continued on to La Ceiba, crossing the Democracy Bridge in El Progreso. That bridge spans the country’s largest river, the Ulua. It collapsed yesterday. We passed over that river. We took that bridge.

We also stayed two nights at the Gran Hotel Paris in La Ceiba in mid-January. Our stay was accidental. A previous hotel, the Monserratte, where we’d roomed both before and after visiting Roatán and before flying to Guanaja, was filled. It was raining. In desperation we hauled our backpacks to a nearby plaza where we’d seen another hotel.

The Gran Hotel Paris had space available and, as it happened, was a much better choice. Rooms were smaller but the hotel itself was cleaner, livelier, and had a more relaxed atmosphere than the Monserratte.

“People were running for the door,” said Alfredo Cedeno from the Gran Hotel Paris, about yesterday’s tremors. “You could really feel it and you could see it—the water came out of the pool.”

We sauntered past the aforementioned pool on our way to breakfast at Gran Hotel Paris. And we watched children playing in that same pool through the restaurant’s glass windows. We walked next to that pool. We ate beside it.

According to the Associated Press report two children died and 40 people were injured as a result of yesterday’s earthquake. It terrified residents through much of Central America. And, since we rode a bus—twice—over the now-collapsed bridge, breakfasted—twice—next to this now-waterless pool, and swam and snorkeled in the Caribbean waters near where this six mile deep earthquake occurred, it almost felt as if we were still there when the earthquake struck.

It’s curious that just a few days or a week in a hotel, on an island, or riding a bus can make a city, a hotel, a bridge, or a country seem so familiar … and almost like home.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign

"Go Slow." This message was etched into the concrete under our feet as we walked off the dock in Caye Caulker, Belize. What a wonderful welcome! Those two words set the tone for our stay on this sweet little island. Here everyone goes slow since transportation is confined to foot, bicycle, or golf cart.

The vibe in Caulker was one of slowmo relaxation as shown by another sign, "No Shirt, No Shoes ... No Problem." We would have stayed longer but my visitor's permit was running out. Reluctantly we headed to Belmopan for an extension. As our water taxi zoomed away from the dock and Caye Caulker disappeared from sight, another American we'd met called, "Goodbye, Caye Caulker. We love you."

Our next destination, Placencia, Belize, also had a laid-back vibe. "Solve half the problems of the world. Keep your religion and your sex life in the bedroom." This sign stood along the main sidewalk skirting the beach in Placencia. What simple, yet wise, words. Really, what more can you say?

And, of course, there were indoor signs as well. Our first lodging in Placencia posted a creative, playful sign in our hotel room: "No Smoking Inside the Room. If we catch you smoking in the room, we will assume you're on FIRE and take appropriate action."

While staying in Placencia we responded to another sign and stopped at Mrs. Beulah's for homemade bread. A bunch of kids and young people hung out downstairs and told us the bread was gone unless we wanted whole wheat. "Yes," I said with a fist in the air, "We want whole wheat!"

Upstairs Mrs. Beulah told us that the whole wheat bread was still in the oven so I paid her $4BZ (about $2US) and promised to return at 4:00 pm for pick up. Later, as we walked downstairs with the bread, the crew hanging out was playing reggae music. Several men moved to the beat. I automatically joined them, swaying my body and waving my arms.

Later I realized that it was a throwback to my days working for a whole foods bakery in Minneapolis. Our weekly baking sessions were accompanied by the music of Bob Marley. The men seemed to enjoy my spontaneous dancing as well as my willingness to join in. We smiled and laughed with each other.

In another hotel in La Ceiba, Honduras, management posted a sign on the drinking water bottle in the lobby: "What's good for the tourist is good for everyone." (My translation from Spanish.) The subtext here, of course, was that not everyone who lives in Honduras can afford good, pure drinking water.

Signs communicated much about culture, habits, and mores of the countries we visited. By the end of our travels I automatically looked in each bathroom to see whether they posted a sign asking users to place their toilet paper in the wastebasket rather than flush it down the toilet. That sign was common throughout the Yucatan in an effort to keep septic systems flowing freely.... Everywhere a sign.