Skip to main content

An Unwanted Adventure

This past Sunday the older youth (16-20) of Los Laureles were invited to distant Olanchito to participate in a 4 team tournament with the winner receiving $100. We were given a little over a week's notice via a youth from Laureles that used to live in Olanchito; and thus it fell to me to organize the event. We decided to rent a bus and open the event to anyone that wanted to come so long as they were willing to pay $5 towards the cost of the rental. We were told that the tournament would begin at 9 am and so we decided to have everyone ready and waiting at the entrance to the community at 5:30 am and for the bus to pass by a little before 6:00. Much to my surprise 35 people and more than enough players showed up, we had uniforms loaned to us, extra balls just in case...but no bus - it never showed. Thus we had to flag down a passing bus on it's normal route from La Ceiba to Olanchito and ask that they be willing to squeeze 35 extra people onto their bus in addition to their regular passengers...for the right price they were willing. After nearly 2 hours on a rickety school bus from Jackson County Florida, driven by a portly, foul-mouthed man who felt it incumbent to stop for and squeeze on every yayhoo and bumpkin standing alongside the road, we arrived....did I mention it was raining? Yeah, that made things much more pleasant. So, we arrived in Olanchito a little after 9 am (the tournament was supposed to start at 9), we pulled into the terminal and the bus driver turned to us and said "Where to now?" We turned to our native of Olanchito and he threw up his hands and acted as though this were the first time he'd ever laid eyes on this town. After a few phone calls we got the name of the field figured out and off we went. I assumed we'd be playing in the center of lovely, colonial Olanchito; a quick 5 minute jaunt from the terminal...
Instead we played here, just beyond this field of beans and that first line of trees, Olanchito is off in the distance and to the left of that mountain. We were in the middle of nowhere, we had to trespass through someone's farm just to reach the field and when we got there....nothing. There was noone to be found. We almost slayed our supposed native of Olanchito. He got wise though and ran off to find the other 3 teams while the rest of us sat down under the trees. I mentioned already that it was raining right?...

Finally around 11 the other 3 teams began to show up and just about at noon on the dot the first of the 3 games commenced...we won handily. The second was played by the other 2 teams and the final game was between us and the winner of the second. We should have won the final...really we should have but the older players felt it important to give the younger players a chance on the field as well and while they played well and did their best they just couldn't come up with a goal and we ended up tying the game 0-0. Which meant that it came down to penalty shots...and in that we lost. Which isn't the worst way to lose I suppose, we came in second place and won $40...which went towards paying for that bus from hell. After traisping back through the bean field we grabbed the same bus that had brought us and arrived without incident in Laureles at around 7:00 pm. I was tired.

colocho there on the left is the supposed former resident of olanchito and our person that organized this mess

juan winding up

and letting lose
he's an incredible player...his secret?
a cigarette before each half.
micho with a shot on goal

pulga all akimbo

one of our up and coming youth

acrobatics

breakaway

pulga again
kind of intentional there kid

pulga again...with no ball to be seen

lauro the hunchback visited us as well

bani's one heck of a goalie but he just couldn't fend off the penalty kicks and we lost...it was a perfect end to an awful day

Comments

Andrea said…
This adventure sounds so ridiculously Honduran, it made me laugh, and at the same time feel bad because I know how frustrating it can be sometimes. God bless you as you continue serving Him and these precious people of Honduras! :-)

Popular posts from this blog

Coming to Honduras

The other day in philosophy class I was teaching about existentialism, a philosophy with which I have myriad problems. The universe is absurd, life is meaningless, authenticate yourself with irrational leaps of faith! Hopeless and disconnected from reality if you ask me. Get out of the café Camus, mix with some common folk! Nevertheless, as I was introducing the material I mentioned that the existentialists really probed the questions of Life's meaning and purpose:

"How do I create myself to be unique and significant?" "How do I live an authentic existence?" "How do I give my life meaning and purpose in an otherwise meaningless universe?"
These seem to be questions that are attendant to societies that possess extreme wealth and privilege and an over-abundance of leisure time. I have serious doubts that 15th Century English peasants or even nobles for that matter, spent much time contemplating how they might make their lives unique or leave a significa…

Art Day

I've been forced into an "art-day" by Girlfriend; against my better judgement I've decided to turn to the only medium that I'm remotely skilled at. It's been far too long since I've written anything of worth and as I sit here, pondering my lack of output in the last 4 years, I'm left wondering if I have anything substantial left to offer to "The Conversation". I think I did once, when my integrity and identity were intact and people were genuinely curious about my life here. For reasons too numerous to count though, not the least of which is my own retreat from reflective thought put down on paper, I can't shake the feeling that I've lost the ability to speak and be heard. Girlfriend and I are reading a book about marriage together given to me by my sister; we take turns reading it aloud to the other and as salient points are read we often stop and discuss our thoughts. Thus far it's been a fairly blithe and carefree romp through…

10 Years In Honduras

My good friend Jessiel Rivera reminded me the other day that it was 10 years ago this month that I arrived here in La Ceiba. I remember my arrival here from Costa Rica fairly vividly. I had been getting teary-eyed on the plane from a combination of sleep deprivation, my longing to remain with my friends in beautiful San Jose and some sad indie music on my iPod. It was a hot and terribly humid Sunday afternoon when I landed in the La Ceiba airport and when I stepped off the 10-seater hotbox of an airplane onto the tarmac I was sweaty, bleary-eyed and disheveled. I looked like a typical gringo backpacker except for my mountain of luggage that I had in tow. Two members of the Central Mennonite Church picked me up in their car; how they knew I was the Gringo they were supposed to collect was beyond me but they got it right. I remember them remarking on the number of suitcases I had brought (3) and their heaviness (maximum weight allowance); and the resulting weight of embarrassment I felt…