Of mice and pigs
Trip Start
Mar 17, 2007
1
76
401
Trip End
Ongoing
Livingston,
Guatemala
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Boarding in Livingston, we find an internet café. Dr T has to check on stuff. A little boy (8?) assigns us to our computers. When the mam shows up, 10 minutes later, she immediately starts screaming at the boy. He is doing his sums and not too well. The little thing gets all nervous and how is that going to help him doing better? She shouts the numbers and the boy's voice gets smaller and smaller. Until, of course he starts crying. She hits him. He cries harder. She pulls him out of the shop into the house, where we hear her beating him up. Everybody knows I am not a big child fan, right? But, this got my blood boiling
Livingston
. I wanted to storm into the living room, beat up that bitch and comfort that poor boy. Tony stopped me. 'Other countries, other habits, not of your business.' I had to leave, Never I wished more I spoke the language. At least I could have asked: 'what are you doing? And what the f... do you think you will achieve with this???'We walk through the village. The people are the most interesting. Many of them are gunafundi. They are originally Mayas, have their own language, their own culture and their own dressing style. The women wear wide multicolored skirt (all exactly the same cut), a top and a lace blouse.
We have brunch on a nice terrace and play cards. I lose for the first time: GRAAAAAWL. The café also has a travel agency and Dr T inquires about transfers to Honduras. Yes, they do it, by speed boat but only when there are minimum 6 takers. Her advice is: do not go by land, where you are driving is not worth stopping.
Walking through the streets afterwards, I say to Tony: 'look a pig!' He says: 'that is a dog.' Is NOT! This is one of those poor countries, which have the skinny dogs with skin diseases. It breaks your heart and the locals do not even SEE them
Brunch
. They sure do not care. And what is going down the street is something fat, with its tail making turns and 'waggling' more than running. Hubby stills denies. It goes into one of the side streets. Coming back from our hike, we go into the side street and find ... not the pig, I admit but a dozen of her babies! We pass by the local launderette.We take the 2 o'clock shuttle back because we want to arrange for our transfer in Puerto Barrios.
Well, forget it. The ferries we read about are gone for 3 years already. We can take a private taxi, of course, for big dosh. NOBODY SPEAKS A WORD OF ENGLISH. OK, we can take 3 (chicken)busses, leaving from: the way to go is explained: 4 blocks straight, 4 blocks to the left. There we go. It is more than 40 degrees. We find a bus station. Wrong bus station. We follow new directions. We walk for more than an hour. We know that whole bloody town by now. No bus station. Let's go to the internet café, where we were yesterday. Closed. We saw another one. We find it. Closed. We look for another one. Find it. Computers do not work. Next one: we come up with nothing, surfing around. We do find the phone number of the travel agency, Dr T inquired at, in the afternoon and he calls. After a lot of discussion, it is settled: we will be picked up tomorrow morning at 07h30, by our own private speed boat and taken to La Ceiba, where we will be in time for our ferry to Roatan, a big island in the front of Honduras.
Poor but relieved we go for diner: Chinese. This is the second time we are doing Chinese in Central/Latin-America and the second time I do not like it.
The traditional dresses
We walk back home. The girl from the travel agency calls: pick up at 06h45 at the hotel.
Speaking of which, look at the shower and the garden.
I am sitting on the toilet bowl when Dr T asks: 'can you come off for a sec?' Well, no. He says; 'I thought you want to see this spider.' Give me a minute. He says: 'unfortunately, I think I will have to kill it, we have no idea, whether it is dangerous.' I stand next to him and go: '.......'. Speechless. I RUN back to the bathroom. From there I ask: 'is that a spider?' Yup, it is a huge, hairy spider. We both thought, at first glance, it was a big black mouse. I hear hubby spraying the insect spray and I say: 'do not do this, it is cruel.' As if I have a better idea. I hear fighting. I ask: 'did you get it?' He answers: 'not quiet'. That means, no, right?. Furniture is moved. More spray. Hitting. Yup. 'Do you want to see the body?' Sure as hell I do! And yes, the body is the size of a mouse. His house was under the cupboard. We slept with it last night. How do we know it does not have a mate?
No choice, we have to go to bed.
Up at 6 and ready to rock-and-roll in time but...
