The Boys (and Girls) Are Back in Town

***Update: Follow this link for more photos (http://www.flickr.com/photos/40174884@N02/sets/72157620946983789/show/)***

Weeee're baaaaack! Our adventure in the southern part of Honduras is over. I brought back some mud on my shoes, some pictures and a cold. The fresh air was great, but it didn't do very nice things to my body and now I'm stuck with a sore throat, a headache and a stuffy nose. I took a cold symptom pill so hopefully it'll go away by tomorrow morning. 

San Marcos de Colon is beautiful! Everything is so green and colonial. It reminded me a lot of Patzcuaro, Michoacan, Mexico. There were even old cars that must be from the fifties and sixties. All the roads were made of stone and the streets were very clean. Carmen Maria, a relative of mine of which I still don't know how exactly we are related (although I think she's my aunt's cousin), told me that San Marcos has been "baptized" the cleanest town in Honduras--and I believe her too. We left Tegucigalpa at 6AM with Carmen Maria's husband Andres and his dad Don Roberto. Gustavo and I left the city for a two-day trip to the place where his mother and my grandmother were born. The four of us headed off to the three hour journey down south as we listened to the radio to figure out whether or not Honduras would be suspended by the OSA or not. It turned out that Honduras actually left/quit the OSA before any decision was made. So Andres, saying he felt so proud to be a Honduran at that moment because of that move they made, kept the mood happy the entire way there. 

Upon arriving we ate breakfast and met the rest of his family, who also live in Tegucigalpa, Carmen Maria (his wife) and their three daughters Isabela (Isa), Andrea and Monica, whom were staying at Carmen Maria's mother's house on vacation. The girls took us for a walk around town. The tour was mostly for me, seeing how I've never been there before and Gustavo had,  having spent many weekends there throughout his childhood. Walking around town I found out who lives where and how they're related to us too, and what has changed in the past couple of years. I loved the feeling of being in such a colonial looking place because it's such a different element than what I'm used to. It wasn't my first time in that setting, but it's the feeling of being in a place that's not your own--I love it! I think that's why people love the idea of time travel; the fact that you don't belong there, but you're there, is just amazing. Also, the appreciation that one has for different things, especially the antique, has a lot to do with it. I love the architecture of the Spanish style homes and the park in front of the church. It's great! 

After lunch we went to the finca, which is like a farm, but an estate too. **Ooo, it's raining outside. I love that sound...** There they raise cows, which several of them belong to Carmen Maria's family and some to her mother. We had fun petting the cows and watching them sink past their "knees" in the mud, although that part was a little sad. When we got there, the men were milking the cows. One of them, later on, grabbed a cup, milked the cow and drank the milk right then and there. Andrea and I just kept looking at each other back and forth, questioning whether we'd do that or not--we both decided we wouldn't. It was funny to hear some of the men as they called out to the cows to go back in their area, like Potter (poh-ter) and his son Harry (Ha-rri). The names they give them...hehe. Being here in Honduras for a week already, and having been watching Harry Potter movies on t.v. because they show them all the time, I've come to see how a kid a Nicaragua was named Harry Potter (true story) and how cows can grab that name also. 

After going up to the house, tracking through mud, to rest and have some soda with pan de yema, we walked back down and made our way to the house. In the car we heard the cadena nacional, which was broadcasting, both through television and radio, the cardenal of Honduras and his message to the people of Honduras, telling them of the sins that Mel Zelaya had committed during his time in office, and why the Church supports his ousting. We then went to a tia's house, Aracely (who makes awesome roskias), to visit. She lived on the corner, across the park we had gone to earlier, and owned the town pharmacy. We entered what was the pharmacy, only to see that it was just the entrance to her home. As we stepped through, I saw that it was the type of home I've always wanted, with the long hallway that stretched around a garden right there in the center, with rooms along the corridor. My mom described a house like this once as she told us of her childhood home in Jalisco, Mexico. The floor was tiled and the doors were an orange-brown, making it look very old, but so cool. We went to the room all the way in the back to find a t.v., which we turned on to watch the game between "La H" (Honduras) vs. Haiti. During half-time we had pupusas and for dessert we had charamuscas, which is like a paleta, but in a bag, without the stick. Basically, it's like putting cool-aid in a bag and freezing it, except the one we had was milk with sugar probably. But they come in all flavors and colors. I hadn't had one in so long, and it tasted sooo good. We took them back to watch the second half to see Honduras win 1-0. "¡Vamos, vamos todos con la seleccion!"

The next day we heard that pro-Mel marches were headed to the airport to await the coming of Mel Zelaya and his possy, who were coming to restore Mel's authority as elected president of the republic. Streets were blocked by military and police forces to prevent any chaos and danger. From the live shots we could see that the marches were pretty peaceful, although those marching wore red and had Che Guevara plastered on their shirts and jackets. For Honduras, who had fought for so long to keep the influences of Hugo Chavez out of the country, this seemed like anti-patriotism, since red (although my favorite color) is a far cry from the national colors of blue and white. After several discussions, and hours, on whether it was safe to leave today or not, we left San Marcos and made our way back to Tegucigalpa. While we expected at least 30 checkpoints, we were only stopped 5 times, and 5 times told that we were good to go. Instead of being pulled over and having our "papers" checked by military personnel, we were only asked once where we were going, and that was just to help us get home faster since the military knew best which roads were closed or open. 

As we got closer, we heard on the radio that Mel's plane was getting closer and was now approaching Toncontin International Airport. Quickly we looked up, knowing that we were close by, and there it was--Mel's jet plane. It was easy to spot, seeing how all other flights had been cancelled that day. We hurried down the hill, keeping an eye on Mel's plane, as did the people who gathered in groups by the road to watch Mel come in too. That was definitely a cool feeling, to know that they too were listening to the exact same thing I was, waiting for the same exact thing. At that moment, whether you were against Mel or not, the whole country was waiting and watching for the same thing. That's what history's all about my friends.

We got closer, and even more to our surprise, there were no barricades or problems, as the Venezuelan news Telesur and CNN (re-named Chavez News Network by many here in Honduras) had warned us about. Quickly we reached our destination as we peeked towards our right to get a glance at the airport. There we saw where all the traffic had gathered to--the tops of hills and edges of the airport. Cars had stopped, creating a parking lot, to allow the people to get out and get a look at their ex-president attempt to land, which ended up in a failure. The military, with it's land and air forces, made it impossible and dangerous for Mel and his crew to land, forcing them to resort to landing in Managua, Nicaragua. Although we were able to save ourselves from Mel for one more day, it only means that the chaos of today will only happen another day, unless he turns himself in somewhere else. 

I just hope and pray that all this is over with and calm soon. I still have not began my internship due to this situation, and would like to start soon. Also, I really want it to be safe so that my sister can come. She's planned to arrive July 17, but if things don't go well, that might not happen. But please pray for Honduras. It has been reported that two people died today, due to disturbances between the mobs trying to break into the airport and the police protecting the runways. Let's hope and pray that no more blood is shed and that no more lives are lost. This needs to stop!