An Unfinished House

Hello mis amigos from lands near and far, Christmas is upon us and so is the sweltering humid heat that I've always associated with the Yuletide. It's been funny here as of late, last week I was downright chilled, I was donning my Northface fleece and loving every minute of it and today we're back with hot, humid and sweaty...I don't get it, such is the life I suppose of Honduras. I suppose the upside of this heat is that I get to enjoy the beach year-round; last Sunday after church Suzie's parents loaned me their truck and off we went collecting our various friends and then headed off for an afternoon at the beach. It was spectacular actually, perfect weather and perfect water. In the late afternoon some Garifuna boys were headed up the beach and stopped off to chat with us and quickly realized that they knew me from my translating work with the American doctors. We had a good old time yucking it up; they asked me about the turtle that I'd bought from them and ...

Quite the title eh? The intelligent among you will correctly surmise that today's musings will pertain almost entirely to Guatemala and the resplendent environs therein. But don't be fooled dear readers; I am not single-minded in my writings nor in my wanderings. I have had quite the varied experiences as of late and feel inclined to impart the whole lot to you. Forgive me for my pedantic prose, I can't quite place what's gotten into me but methinks I made my Costa Rican coffee a tad too strong this morning. Well since I opened this bull-session with talk of Guate and her marvels I may as well finish 'er up. This past Thursday I made my first trip to Guatemala - the astute out there will begin placing the pieces together and quickly ascertain that I seem to be traveling quite a little bit...and that would be a correct ascertation. I assure you that it isn't what it looks like - I do in fact love Honduras and despite what Robin Weinstein says I am not idling my t...