Vacation in Amapala

According to Lonely Planet: "Amapala is a quiet fishing village on Isla del Tigre, a 783m-high inactive volcano island. Founded in 1833, Amapala was once Honduras' main Pacific port town, before the port was moved to San Lorenzo on the mainland."

Here's how my vacation started: Leila and I left for Tegus early Friday afternoon to do some Christmas shopping. It was absolute madness there. We picked up a cake for Max's birthday and met up with the other volunteers to share it. At the bar we were at, we met several expatriates who knew Amapala well and offered to help us out. Later, at we headed to the Honduran equivalent of a farmers' market, where I ordered a torta (the Honduran equivalent of a sloppy Joe). We followed that up with a night of dancing at Mister Marino, where we encountered the entire Ranch (exaggerating a little bit, but still awkward).

In the morning, we met up with the expats in Parque Central. They guided us to the shadiest bus station ever in Comayaguela (the most dangerous neighborhood in Tegucigalpa, the most dangerous city in all of Central America). I was definitely freaked out when I was warned by one of my Pilares who is working in the market on empleo and who I ran into, my Honduran friend Chele who was to accompany us, and some random lady, that it was really risky for us to be there. Eek. I felt much better when Chele arrived and we were all safely on the bus. After four hours, we finally arrived at Coyolito. From there, we took a fishing boat to the island. The daughter of one of the guys we met was going to meet us and help us with a place to stay, but she was far away from the beach, so we went with Chele's suggestion that we stay with a woman who had always offered him a room. After walking for what seemed like forever, I started to think negatively. As in, what if there is no food and shelter because this is not the United States and I just sit down and die? Sometimes I'm a bit dramatic. Well, I shouldn't have doubted Chele because at the end of Playa Grande was a small hotel with its own restaurant run by the incomparable Doña Digna. It was literally right on the beach, and as soon as we girls got our stuff in the room (the boys opted to camp on the beach), WE SWAM IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN. As a native Washingtonian, this was just so counterintuitive for me. We finished up the night with fried fish caught fresh that day.

We woke up to the boys playing soccer on the beach with the locals. After a lovely breakfast, we set out to...relax on the beach. We drank out of a coconut and I got a ridiclously awesome tan. Digna's son Javier offered to show us Playa del Diablo. We went on a little hike, and from there the bad decisions began. To get to Playa Diablo, you have to jump off of a tree on a cliff into water of questionable depth. Which I did. After another short hike, the group decided to swim across the bay to an island. I've always been warned against swimming unknown distances because it's always longer than it looks. I am an extremely poor swimmer (not so much with the floating), but Pete and Tiffany offered to be my personal water wings, so I went ahead and did it. I'm pretty impressed with myself and how I'm pushing myself physically this year. I don't think I'll be afraid of anything after this. We headed back to Playa Grande and decided epic three-way chicken fights were in order. Jason and I reigned supreme, due to his brute strength and my willingness to play dirty combined with an insatiable desire to win. We headed into town that night and found a little restaurant on the water. Patricia and I shared a plate of ceviche (raw something-or-other that lives in the ocean) and camarones al ajillo (shrimp in garlic sauce). The shrimp was by far the best food I've had in Honduras.

We left Amapala early this morning. The girls rode in a motor taxi as much for the experience as the desire to never walk again. The bus ride was much more unpleasant this time, as most of the group had to stand the whole time. A nice gentleman eventually offered me his seat. When we got into Tegus, I finished up my Christmas shopping and went and visited three of my girls in the store they work at in the center. I hung back when the rest of the group headed up to Cerro Grande so I could have coffee with another girl, but she wasn't able to get off work. Walking around with so much stuff always freaks me out. I'm convinced I'm going to get robbed. It's not entirely unfounded since it recently happened to two of our volunteers. I was relieved to get up to the Cerro and find the rest of the volunteers, Momo and her daughter Camila, and several others from the Ranch. But that also meant that they hadn't gotten on a bus yet. EVERYONE was in Tegus today, and the buses were so full people were hanging out the doors. Fortunately, a friend of Momo's passed by in a relatively empty van and took us all the way to our doorsteps on the Ranch. What luck!

Now I'm here and getting settled in for the long haul that is Christmas. Christmas dinner is tomorrow night, and the tíos and tías leave the next day. Each hogar is assigned a university or high school student or two to be in charge (volunteers are there as a support). But not mine. It's just me and one of my girls, Estefany. I'm looking at 11 days as Tía Kimmie. Wish me luck.