THE UGLIEST AMERICAN: No Habla? Big Probla!

Trip Start Nov 04, 2006

Trip End Dec 03, 2006

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Flag of Honduras La Ceiba, Honduras
Monday, November 20, 2006

So I'm not too humble to say that I've done some straight up ballsy shite in my day. Think not? Where were you when I serenaded a 4 person standing room only crowd of Costa Ricans with a loud, drunk, and sloppy interpretation of Pat Benatar's "Hell Is For Children"? And perhaps I need to remind you of the time I was the only one on the dance floor busting a move to the Scott Laurent Band at the Cabooze wearing a cropped women's fur coat. (which I rocked, by the way) Not enough? What about when I played drums (and I don't play drums)and sang onstage at Austin's Electric Lounge during an impromptu, ahem, "show"? OK, some of these incidents were due to alcohol. Ok ALL of them. But it seems all you people ever remember is the naked hiking story and the Richard "affair". But Monday will rank up there in Todd History. Because that was the day I ran four Class 4 runs in a kayak the size of a bar of hotel soap.

Now I won't lie, I took chicken lines on every one cuz my roll is pathetic and I haven't quite acquired a taste for drowning. In fact, I wouldn't have CONSIDERED doing this had I not been spotted by two pros named Darwin and Jorje, AND had I not been called a pussy by Jorje's hot wife from Norway. How hot? Let'sjust say I shoehorned my fat ass into that tiny boat now, didn't I?

Norwegian wood aside, it probably was a bad idear for me to do this, but I get all Marty McFly when faced with a throwdown. So off we went down the same section I rafted earlier that day, minus the deadly first two kms and last km.

01 Class Whatever

I couldn't have handled THAT.

Testosterone aside, it was a cool experience and it confirmed my fear and respect of the river. It will be there long after I kick the bucket. AND, it was nice to kayak sans gooch, although I was drinking. the river.

Got up the next morning with a hurtin knee from a rock during one of my 3 swims. I have almost exhausted my supply of Ibuprofen, the years have not been kind to me. The last night at Jungle River, I again commandeered the stereo and bar, but there was no chicha and the soiree was strictly sausage save a snotty Russian chick who did nothing but smoke cigarettes and act dismissive towards all. So the stage was pretty much set for my 3rd gayest moment ever, behind the naked hiking and that picture of me and Tony wearing nothing but a Hondo Explorer. What happened was I was playing one of my mix CDs and wedged between Verbena and Sugar was Aimee Mann's "Could've Been Anyone". I guess that made my QUEEN for a day. Suffice to say, I got bored with Jungle River and wanted to go. Oscar the owner has already tried to pad my bill and from what I've heard from the boys down the road at Omega, he is not a fella to mess with. He looks like a Honduran version of Vinnie Jones (seriously) and talks with the same raspy out of breath whisper as the rat/witness guy in Godfather 2. He mostly just glowers at me and smokes, and that's OK as long as he doesn't pull a gun. Which is what is rumored. Still, firearms aside, he is still cooler than the German dude at Omega.

After the lunacy

So 3 paddle trips in 2 days, not bad for less than a hundred bucks. How fitting that my bar tab is quickly approaching my paddling tab. Hey, I haven't showered in 2 and a half days, which is like blasphemy for me. But remember, I HAVE purified myself in the waters of the Rio Cangrejal, just don't get my seat wet.

After a few weeks of hard work, I'm ready to relax. Can I do it? Don't know, but I'm gonna find out. Listening to: Coldplay "The Scientist"

Gotta fly, I will be hitting the border tomorrow, the Honduras portion of this story is over. Can Guatemala match the bravado of this Banana Republic? Can beer possibly be cheaper across the border? And most important, can I avoid cocktails in yet another country? As a wise thrash band once said: Only death decides.

By the way, if you do not approve of more than 4 of the following things, you may not like solo travel in a 3rd world country:

1. People constantly staring or laughing at you while trying to sell you something or themselves.

2. Four hours off is considered "a little late"

3. Your bus driver seems to be suicidal, or to hate pedestrians, or is a big fan of all the "Smokey and the Bandit" movies. (El Bandito esta muy macho!)

4. Having bizarre and indistinguishable foods thrust violently at you while being yelled at "Try theese! TRY theese! TRY THEESE!! SI!!"

5. Your bus ticket not guaranteeing that you won't have to share your seat with an infant or chicken or bag of fried plantains.

6. That there is such thing as a polite fistfight.

7. The fact that you can smoke a large brisket in the time it takes to send one email.

8. Guns aren't holstered, they either get tucked in the front or brandished hopefully.

9. The clothes you are wearing go out of style before the check comes.

10. You have to check your machete at the door of the nightclub.

Tally up the votes. Survey says . .

Peace Love and Don't cry for me Honduras,

TT