El Salvador, Honduras, and Day 100

A lot has happened and I've left you out of the loop. I apologize. For the first time on the trip I've taken on travel partners and I just haven't felt the desire to spend a couple hours in an internet cafe. I won't hit up everything - its been a good few weeks, I survived and traveled through probably the worst country in Central America (Honduras). Happy to say it is behind me.

Hmmmm....I don't even know where to start. Four weeks is like a good damn life time down here. I left off in El Salvador. Good country, but didn't stay as long as perhaps I should have. I'm generally a lonely man and I had a stage one clinger and had to get her off my tracks. So after climbing Volcan Santa Anna I had a do nothing day in the city of Santa Anna, let my clinger take off and headed to Honduras the following day to Copan Ruinas. The largest Mayan Ruins in Honduras don't rival those of Mexico and Tikal of Guatemala, but in a country with a terribly unworn tourist trail, it's a place not to be missed. I spent four days in the town of Copan Ruinas, located a mile from the site of the ruins. My last night in town, after a late night cantina party, while chatting merryly with my buddy, I was bitten in the calf by an angry dog. Ripped my pants and broke the skin with some nice teeth marks. It scared the shit out of me, but I was fine. Crap thing was, I needed a rabies vaccine, but I'd already booked and paid $250 Honduran Monopoly money for a 7 AM bus trip to La Ceiba. Two buses and about seven hours of travel away. From there the plan was to quickly catch the last boat to Utilla, an island off Honduras' coast - world renowned for its cheap dive schools. Rabies is only a deadly virus - I'll wait until Utilla to take care of it. However, about 14 hours after I had been bitten, on Utilla, after an hour roller coaster style bout ride where I ralphed up my delicious Burger King Whopper, I learned rabies vaccine are not located on this island and in fact, in order for it to be 100% effective it needs to be given within eight hours of the bite. Wonderful news. When untreated, a human being only survives approximately 8 days once rabies is relieved of its incubation period. With supportive care, life can be extended up to a month. Awesome. The doctor, although initially very angry with me for not taking care of this within eight hours, calmed my nerves. He confidently said all dogs in Central America have been vaccinated for rabies. All dogs? Yup - ALL dogs. I guess I don't have rabies then - phew! My friends are less confident in this diagnosis and cautiously avoid drinking from my cups to avoid contracting my rabies. Don't worry Mom. I don't have rabies.

Honduras is beautiful, but the people are stupid and that gets old quick. Also, like most of Central America, any roadside is a fine place for a landfill. Finished with your bag of chips Juan? Just throw it on the ground. Maria, finished with your bag of water on the bus? Why throw it in an actual garbage when your whole country is one? Ahhh. Look an open window! FLING!...but back to the stupid part...Maria doesn't know a light, flimsy bag won't drop down to the ground on a fast moving bus, but hit and splash the silly gringo looking out the window, half way down the bus. Why shouldn't he expect to be hit with trash while gazing at the landfill that is Honduras?

So eventually. It was time to leave the country. A great day. Easter left us high and dry because the Thursday and Friday prior there were no public buses in the country. Genius for tourism. On Saturday we had one day to make our move or we'd be stuck on Sunday. Saturday was a hell of day. A shit long travel day. Count 'em up. Two proper buses, four vans, three taxis, and a bike ride across the border finally brought us to Leon, Nicaragua. We did it nearly as best we could though. No major screw ups. So from the beginning....

We walked out of our hostel outside of Peña Blanca at 6:50 am and got Taxi #1 to town. Didn't wait long for Van #1 to take us to La Guama and Bus #1 was waiting for us to arguably the most dangerous city in Central America, the capital Tegucigalpa. Taxi #2 took us to Bus #2 where our bags where quickly ripped from the taxi and a group of bus company men where competing for our business. I took the one who stole my bag first where he kindly deposited it in the back seat of the bus - as far from the door as possible. Bus #2 brought us to Van # 2 in Choluteca, Honduras - the fourth largest city and equally crappy as the first three largest. This van needed to be push started and from the tattered foam showing in all the seats and rust and holey floor it was obviously purchased sometime in the Eisenhower administration. Finally we made it to the border city of Guasaule where the fun really began. We were treated like celebrities upon exiting the bus by eager men with wads of money hoping to rip us off in exchange for Nicaragua's currency. Guys with bikes competed with our bags. You'd have to see this to believe it. It was comical. We changed some money and hoped in the carriage of the bike guy who'd managed to steal our bags first. The borders do not seem unsafe, but they are. Apparently these guys on bikes protect you from all the bad people. Our first mistake on this journey was not securing a price for this bike trip before the ride actually took place. First they took us to the Honduran Immigration Exit and then next to the Nicaraguan entry. We waited an hour there. The bike guys nudging and pushing us forward in their attempt to speed up the process. One even waited in the other line in case it was faster. After that fiasco where Nicaragua charged us nearly all the money we had exchanged we got back on the bikes and the bike guys road us out to a deserted lot, about 250 meters down the road, which was apparently the bus station. Like an ass I mentioned I had a 500 bill in Honduran Lempiras (remember in Monopoly the 500's are actually pretty good) - so magically the price was 5oo each. That's about $25 US. Are you fucking crazy bro? We didn't even have that much and it would mean losing all our money and not having any for the final two van rides to Leon. It was now 5 in the afternoon. We were tired and irritated, but luckily Norway was also really pissed off and they managed to only take our 500 (my 500). Bastards. They would have gladly cleaned us out. We were running on pennies now, but fortunately Van #3 said they could get us to Leon. Lie. We were driven about an hour outside of Leon and before we knew what had happened the bus was stopped and the drivers had disappeared as other passengers where getting off ahead of us. So with our last 40 Cordobas ($2) we limped into Leon at 7:30 at night on Van #4 and paid for Taxi #3 after an ATM stop. It was a rough 12 and half hour travel day. We had survived though and extremely happy to have Honduras behind us. We found a place to sleep for $5 US a night and slept with a smile.

I've been shitting on Honduras pretty bad during this blog, but it deserves it. The three largest cities are some of the unsafest in all of Central America. There is trash everywhere and nearly every restaurant we went to could not manage to make a correct order for us. They even have a bill equivalent to .05 cents. Case closed.

So hello Nicaragua. One city - Leon and I'm already feeling better. Went to a cock fight. Lost a beer betting with a local. I went for the white cock - the black cock won. What was I thinking? There is always that next city, that next town, and next hostel. Nicaragua. Here I come.

Chicken Buses and the Largest Mountain in Central America

While in Quetzaltenango I decided to act on the opportunity to hike the largest mountain in Central America. Volcan Tajumulco (4,220 meters). Two days before the trip I thought it a wise idea to go to the street vendor selling lukewarm beef patties with a ladle full of coleslaw and black beans from a large pot. It was only a dollar for a heaping plate. I knew it was dangerous and gave myself twelve hours to know if I had made a terrible mistake. This was Thursday and the start of my two day hike to the top of the volcano was Saturday morning. I spent Friday night on the toilet. Liquefied. I never felt sick, just couldn't pass gas without it running down my leg. I had already paid the Q400 for the trip ($50) so I wasn't letting some bacteria in my colon let me stay home. I went anyway and it was one of the most amazing things I have ever done. Unfortunately it took nearly a week before I had a solid stool again.

I forgot to read the fine print of the trip when it said "transportation provided". The meaning of this line was "public transportation provided." AKA - The Chicken Bus. A chicken bus is a converted US school bus. Either from the 1970's or 80's. Maybe even older. All I know is they look much older than any bus I rode on the 90's. They are brightly colored on the outside with racing stripes and stickers. Over the back windows it says something about God or Jesus. Inside they've wrapped the roof with handrails and added cargo storage for bags. The roof of the bus also has been equipped with cargo storage and a ladder leads to the top from the back of the bus. The driver adds as many stickers and quotes about God and Jesus as he can fit above the window for all passengers to see he is a true Christian.

Riding on a chicken bus is definitely requires an acquired taste. At least once you're off the damn thing you can look back at it with pride in having survived one of the worlds most horrifying experiences.

"How could it be so bad Matt?" you say...allow me to do my best to portray a ride on a chicken bus.

School bus seats can barely fit two normal sized people. A chicken bus manages to squeeze three to each seat. The 3rd having to sit with one cheek on and one cheek suspended in the aisle. You get the chance to rub legs with the unfortunate one cheeker across the aisle from you. Once there are three to every seat the aisle starts to fill up with people. They push and cram their way past the one cheekers holding on tightly to the hand rail, swaying with the twists and turns of the bus which immediately starts driving before you get a chance to confirm your spot. Not just driving, but speeding insanely around blind corners and hair pin turns. They beep their horns to warn anyone daring to take the turn into the other line coming the other direction. Even when you think the bus cannot hold anymore people and everyone is contorted up in each others arms and leg as if in a giant game of Twister the bus continues to stop and more passengers get on. At one point the entire front of the bus was packed, the stairs leading up into the bus was lined with four people and one guy was swinging out the open door.

All the while people keep coming on trying to sell stuff to you. There are all the normal items for sale, such as bags of sliced fruit, bread, sandwiches, chips, drinks, candies, and newspapers whose sellers magically duck and weave through the aisles to make a couple dollars. When there's no chance of even a mouse making it through the aisle they sell their products through the open windows to greedy hands reaching out for a cold drink or loaded gun to end their life.

About every hour everyone on the bus is treated to a Billy Mays impersonator trying to sell their products to the bus. First the guy with ball point pens. He holds up a pad of paper and scribbles to show how well it writes. But wait...there's more! Along with two pens you also get two black magic markers! Look how nice they write! The audience gawks. The seller "walks" down the aisle and a few customers hand over Q5 (.65 US), suddenly realizing they really need pens and markers.

Next comes the gentleman with the mystery cream. He comes on accompanied with a photo album. Page one - girl with hideous acne covered face, her eyes are blacked out in round dark holes. "This isn't you now, but buy this cream just in case...because you never know..." Unfortunately for everyone on the bus, this cream seems to be a cure all for ALL red sores on the body. Flip of the page shows a man with grotesque swollen feet. He has athletes foot, but apparently this cream also is an anti-fungal along with being an acne medicine. Sadly, it only gets worse. Flip of the page, and we have a lovely frontal nudity shot of a man with jock rash all over his genitals and upper thighs. Now its important for the audience to know, even if you don't have these ailments now, they can happen at any minute and you need to be prepared. Lastly, a close up of a woman's breast covered in pimply bumps. This is pubescent teens dream. I scan the faces on the bus to see if their jaws are dropped like mine has been, but they all seem relaxed and gazing bored at the display of pictures. Just another day on a chicken bus! This salesman takes another approach to sales. When he finishes his picture book he walks down the aisle and hands his two ounce jar of cream to every single person. I declined. As he speaks he continues to tout its importance and magical properties. People have a chance to examine it and the longer they hold it in their hands the more they realize they need it. He collects more Q5 then he gets bottles back.

Another guy comes on later in the journey with the same hand out method. He's selling SoyJoy, fruit soy granola bars. Then the man with his bible telling everyone they have two roads. The wide one toward the devil or the thin one toward Jesus and a donation to him.

Even if you don't have anything to sell or to preach you just need some type of deformity. You could be an old lady with a swollen arm or wrist begging for a few centavos or a guy with a head like tumor projecting from your stomach similar to the two head guy in Total Recall. He lifted up his shirt for all to see and hopefully shame them into a few Quetzales.

So back to the mountain. Before getting on our chicken buses we had to organize the gear into our overnight packs and ration out the supplies. The amount of food we were bringing was unbelievable. We were 6 people. Going for really just 22 hours. One lunch, one dinner, one breakfast, and some snacks. On the mountain at about 1 in the afternoon and off the next morning around 11, but we were packing as if we were going for a week. Three large loafs of bread, a bag of onions, tomatoes, apples, two large bags of mozzarella cheese, package of sliced American cheese, ham, small jar of oil, picante, "sandwich" sauce, six bags of pasta, six packets of sauce, one giant bag of corn flakes, three smaller bags of chocolate flakes, enough instant milk to make twelve gallons, two packets of black beans, and soup mix. Along with that, two rolls of toilet paper and twenty Styrofoam cups. With my current ailment I had brought along my own toilet paper, but now had no need to worry. I'm all about being full and satisfied in the back country, but this was a bit excessive.

The hike was relatively easy and we camped about a half mile from the top so we could get up at four in the morning and make it up for sunrise. I have to admit, it was quite nice to be able to eat until you were a pin cushion, because there was zero chance all the food could be eaten no matter how hard we tried. The sunrise from the top was a top ten life experience. The horizon was blanketed in a bed of clouds like the white water of a torrent river. In the distance other volcanoes stabbed their heads through the clouds for a view. It's hard to write a picture and I'm no author, but trust me...it was out of this world amazing. It was worth riding on a chicken bus.

From Quetzaltenango I spent four days on the Pacific ocean in the small town of Monterrico and from there after nearly six weeks in Guatemala, I headed toward the frontera. The border of El Salvador. I'm in the city of Juayua (why-ooo-a) right now and its actually pretty awesome. Today, Saturday, April 2nd, there is a Food Party. Well it happens every weekend, but you get to sample all the different types of food from all over El Salvador. I'm going to be adventurous today...tongue, iguana, brain...I'm Andrew Zimmern, and I'm out!

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