The craziest ride of my life

     In my previous post I said that I had the most exhilarating and crazy ride of my life. Turns out that wasn't exactly true. Yesterday I set out with Dr. Dunbar (The President of ProTECTOR), Noemi (A third year P.H.D student from Spain), and another volunteer. We left Teguc about 2:30 headed to the small village of Punta Ratón on the southern Coast of Honduras. We sped through the twisting city streets, stopped briefly at a supermercado for supplies and headed south to the coast. The road we took was the only paved road to the south and was, consequently, very busy with tiny cars, beat up SUVs (Mostly Toyotas), bicyclists, motorbikes, and massive trucks. Constant passing was the order of the day, often around steep curves and sheer cliffs. We twisted ever upward into the mountains passing small huts, farms and businesses. Every mile or so we would pass a dilapidated convenience store proudly displaying Coca-cola or Pepsi emblems and promising instant refreshment for the weary traveler; a stark testimony to the pervasive capacity of capitalism. Trash was a ubiquitous part of life in every town we passed, often lying fallen in the street or smashed on the ground, integrated into the ecosystem around it.

     For the first time since landing I saw the true beauty of the Honduran landscape. Amongst the crumbling houses, piles of garbage, and rusting cars sprung magnificent pines, deciduous trees of every stripe and color, elegant bamboo shoots, and exotic yucca and aloe vera. The forest rolled across the landscape calling little if it encountered tall hills or low valleys.

     As we were coming down from the mountains we ran into an evening storm. And what storm it was! In Honduras, as in much of Central America, the annual weather passes through two distinct seasons, a dry season and a wet. We happened to be in the wet season (May-November) and consequently would have to deal with storms for the entirety of our stay. They say storms are huge in the Midwest. They lie. No storm I have ever seen in Ohio or Michigan even comes close to the magnificence of this one. For several hours torrents of rain poured upon the earth, obscuring our vision and enriching the earth. Now I know why such biodiversity exists in this place. Nourished by the tremendous heat, humidity, and these amazing storms, life flourishes. Lightening hit the ground so close to me that I could feel it. Brilliant sheets of lightening rippled across the clouds like fingers of God, scouring the sky with their brilliance. Never ending sheets of rain scoured the concrete and formed vast pools along the road.

     Abruptly the truck we were following pulled to a stop. A car coming the other way, apparently, had lost traction and crashed into another vehicle. As we sat waiting for traffic to begin moving again, other vehicles began to “alternative” methods of getting around the accident from driving on the shoulder to passing into the other lane. Needless to say, it took some time for us to get moving again. Gradually we passed down from the mountains into the Southern Lowlands around the Gulf of Fonseca. (Named after the famed enemy of Columbus, Archbishop Juan Fonseca ). As we neared the coast the vegetation began to change. Palms, bananas, and bamboo began to appear more rapidly as the land flattened. The main river we were following grew larger in size as it slowed down and picked up water from tributaries. Towns began to look more rural than than in the highlands, more dependent on the land and less on the city.

     After some time we turned on a bumpy dirt road that lead directly to Punta Ratón. And when I say road I use it in the loosest sense possible. Imagine the bumpiest road you can think of, multiply that by ten, add several ponds and deep crevasses and you begin to get a picture of the road we traveled on. We did not so much avoid the potholes, as chose those holes we liked better. Nearing the end of our journey we drove out onto the beach, the waves softly lapping on our right and pulled into the house where I, Noemi, and the other intern would be staying. All I could see of the landscape in the dark was swaying palms and banana trees. Exhausted from the journey, I ate some bread, set up my mosquito net, and fell asleep.

     I awoke to find one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Punta Ratón looking towards Isla del Tigre