Life in Honduras - Part One By RPCV Don Moore
In January, 1982 I left home behind and flew to Honduras to begin a stint with the Peace Corps. The Peace Corps advertises itself as "The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love," and indeed my three years in Honduras were the toughest and most frustrating of my life. And I would do it again in a minute if it weren't for the realities of raising a family. Since 1992 I've found myself frequently thinking back to those days and reminiscing about what I was doing that month ten years ago and what my life was like.
After three months of training in Tegucigalpa, in April, 1982 I was assigned to work as a teacher-trainer in the town of Santa Barbara, which would be my home for the next 25 months. In those two years I got to know Santa Barbara as well as my old hometown of Milesburg, Pennsylvania. There's nothing really special about Santa Barbara, but then there isn't anything special about most towns. It's just a good example of Anytown, Latin America - the kind of places we hear on the radio. Let's take a detailed look at life in Santa Barbara.
Geographically, Santa Barbara is in west-central Honduras about 65 miles south of San Pedro Sula, Honduras' second largest city. Sixty- five miles may not sound like much, but I when I got there only the first twenty miles of the road was paved. After that it was a narrow dirt lane that wound its way around mountains, over rivers, and through streams (if it's only a foot or so deep, who needs a bridge?). The trip took four hours in bus or 2 1/2 hours in a car (two if the driver was suicidal, some said). During the dry season even the smallest vehicle would raise great clouds of dust; by the end of trip I could literally shake the dust out of my clothes and hair - even my eyebrows!
In early 1983, the European Community gave Honduras a loan to pave the road and put in bridges, and in May a Mexican company was hired to do the job. A year later when I moved away, most of the new roadbed was finished, but only a mile or two had been paved. However six months later when I went back for a visit it was about half done and the bus trip only took 2 1/2 hours! In town I met two greenhorn volunteers who had just arrived two days earlier. All they could talk about was the horribly long 2 1/2 hour bus ride. Me, I just smiled.
