To Honduras With Love

The bus rocked furiously. The wheels on our bus weren’t only going ‘round and ‘round. They sprung up and down and swayed side to side. The roads weren’t even roads at all, just tracks paved through with stones. Our driver forced his way through the rough terrain. The air was hot, and not just ‘hot’— the more you sat, or moved, or breathed the harder your sweat poured. But by the end of the successful day, sweat was only another beautiful aspect of nature my family got to take part in. This composition is dedicated to the country of soul and celebration that is seen as you take your first step onto its smooth, baked white-brown sand; to the beauty and culture and warmth of Honduras.

My Dad is an individual that finds education to be one of the ‘fun’ things to do while on vacation, no matter how much my brother, mother, and I disagree. Our first destination was the bird sanctuary. The first thought that crossed our minds was relief from escaping the sauna-temperature-bus.

Great….I sarcastically thought to myself.

I didn’t think I could enjoy learning as much as my Dad did, especially not on vacation. We were guided through the entrance and immediately were welcomed by walking, flying, and freely perched parrots. They lived comfortably in the habitat set up by devoted animal lovers. The birds were stunning. They were made up of warm colors and tones of feathers. The different breeds were eminent as seen by the variety of colors and sizes. The birds were friendly and intelligent. There was no fear of humans that could be sensed as they leaped from shoulder to shoulder. The guides warned us of the dangerous lives these magnificent birds live as many breeds have begun along the track of extinction, a fact that was hard to process after falling in love with them.

The bus driver and my father had a strange link to each other. My father was raised in an area known as Konni in southern India. The bus driver is a native of Honduras. Both places are filled with kind-hearted people, similar customs, and closeness with nature and fellow human beings. The two quickly hit off a friendship. As we approached the bus to reload and head to our next target, the two couldn’t resist the long tree arms covered with small fruits. In many other places of the earth, people would fear eating strange foods, but these two men had none of that. They shared their discoveries with the rest of the tour group, an experience for us all.

There was one stop left—the pier. It was astonishing. It was more than I could imagine with its postcard-perfect, crystal-clear waters above the white sand and shells of the ocean floor. Canoers in bright orange lifejackets paddled out to experience it fully. As this scene played on, the background was filled with the songs and dancing of natives as they let us see a glimpse of their history. The setting was set, and it was the perfect example of culture and beauty.

How could I leave this place? I thought.

I can’t.

The animals are unique, the people are warm and accepting, and the landscapes are matchless in beauty.

I belong here.

I have to come back.

The sun and the people embrace this beautiful place that lies along the coast of Central America known to its natives and those like myself that have come to claim it as their own paradise…Honduras. Again and again I will always choose Honduras. To Honduras with love.