Tuesday, August 29, 2006

The Background

Okay, so lemme start at the very beginning:

My parents divorced when I was two. Let's just say that their breakup was less than cordial.

Nevertheless, I consider myself blessed that my mother still allowed me a few visits to see my paternal grandparents, who at that time were primarily located in Tampa, Florida.

My earliest memories of my father's parents involve them talking about Honduras. Evidently my grandmother (a college math instructor) had gone there with a friend sometime in the sixties and decided that it was positively heavenly. With a little bit of money and bit more of convincing for my grandfather, she had built a finca, or "summer home" on the outskirts of the north coast city of La Ceiba. They vacationed there during the summers, when school was not in session.

By the time I was spending my "mom-is-studying-for-the-bar-exam" or “making-her-way-as-a-new-associate-in-the-firm” summers with them, it was the eighties, and my grandparents had all but retired to that lovely, Central American finca. I recall my grandfather's attempts to teach me Spanish... from his copyright-violating, xeroxed copies of textbooks.

(Who knew teachers used school shit for their own purposes??)

Anyway, I came to romanticize this place of theirs, perhaps because of the fact that it was later withheld from me by a disgruntled and worried mother who had second thoughts about me traveling to a place where horses were employed to ford rivers when bridges flooded, and where bugs ostensibly grew to the size of small dogs.

(To say nothing of malaria, dengue fever and boa constrictors.)

But I digress....

So this is how I learned of Honduras, and became utterly enchanted.

Even with my grandparents gone, I continued my search for something of them, (perhaps something which would translate to me) in that country. I visited regularly, my enchantment fading not one iota in the face of poverty, nor environmental degradation, nor a laughably ineffective government.

I was, and am, inexplicably held by the magic of the Honduran landscape, and the Honduran people.

And so today, some 25 (ish) years after I learned of this place, I have determined to make it my home... at least for a time.

I have a business plan in mind, the details of which I will likely reveal at length, and I hope that it will afford me the opportunity to pass some years in the country my grandmother fell in love with.

So, at the risk of being sappy, (and eat it up NOW my friends, cuz you'll not see too much sappiness here, ) I would like to dedicate this journey to my grandmother: Doña Elyse; mi abuelita linda.

4 Comments:

At 10:15 PM, Blogger Liar_Liar said...

Sounds awesome.

Want a partner??

I can carry wood and swing a hammer sometimes. When i have no broken bones or anything.

 
At 9:38 AM, Blogger Bound for Ceiba said...

Well we need to work on your Spanish a bit, but otherwise I think you'll do quite nicely...

 
At 7:28 AM, Blogger thephoenixnyc said...

Amazing, I always wondered wher your interest in Honduras came from.

 
At 9:29 PM, Blogger Bound for Ceiba said...

Well now you know, sweetheart...

I hope that someday we can host you and your (undoubtedly) beautiful bride in the splendid north coast city of La Ceiba!

We will wait expectantly....

 

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