Saturday, January 21, 2012
note from travel
We traveled to Tegucigalpa, Honduras in Central America. We had been there before and had good friends there. We decided to spice it up a bit with a true relaxing vacation at the tail end of the trip, for four days.
The beginning of the trip was spent staying with our good friends Cesar and Maritza and their children in their home. We enjoyed watching the World Cup on their tiny, fuzzy tv (Brazil eventually won) and traveling around the country to visit other friends in villages like Chichicaste where poverty is king.
Then came Roatan, worlds away from mainland Honduras, but not entirely. Roatan is a small island featuring world class diving 40 miles away from the mainland.
We stayed at the lovely Pearl Island Resort and were enthralled beyond words with the snorkeling. We can tell some serious stories. Our eyes have never been more fascinated with the features and awe-inspiring riches of our world then here.
We relaxed, and it is here I would like to share my passion. Isabella was the maid of the resort. We were the only guests (June; low season), the owners were absent and we got to know Isabella, share breakfast with her and talk. She earned 8.00 per/day wages, worked 7 days a week and it cost her $2 per/day to take the bus to work. Her net was $42 per/week. She was happy for the work.
It was here we also went shopping and I love to negotiate, and negotiate I did. We met up with Sandra, a young Guatemalan living in Roatan. She had weaved a beautiful table covering that we had decided to splurge on. Sandra wanted $65, but I knew I could do better and for 30 minutes or so I proceeded to try to talk her down as low as 20 and finally up to 50. She never budged. This was tiring. She would not give in and it was here, finally, where I recalled Isabella's wages and how Sandra had spent hours upon hours weaving this beautiful table cloth and how poor this nation was and here for 20 dollars or so I wanted to prove my authority and my own personal greed.
Needless to say. We own a beautiful tablecloth, my pride has since recovered, and now reading a journal entry or two from 10 years ago sparks these memories as vivid as yesterday.....now if I could just hear//smell the ocean......ahhhhhhhhhhh