Santa Rosa De Copan - Dan Rodgerson

This is how the nachos are served. There is a small fire burning on the bottom

This is a mid-scale hotel shower. Notice the exposed wires. Electricity, water and being naked do not really mix well

Having been lost the previous day, I made sure I always knew where I was. Got a room with a nice family and read about nice rooftop restaurant above a hotel a few blocks away. Very cool little town. I nested on the top floor, found a wireless internet connection and spent a few hours returning e-mails and checking on things at home. In the hotel were two groups. The first was a group of Canadian college students who were there working with habitat for humanity for a week and a Christian Baptist group. The groups were east to tell apart. College kids were there to party.


It was valentines day and kinda sucked to be alone. While at the rooftop restaurant in stumbled a group from the college. We talked and laughed a bit and a few of them checked e-mail on my computer while the drinks began to disappear. They did not master the idea of drinking BEFORE you go out. In tourist areas, drinks can be about $2 each. That was a lot. Warned the blonde girls that they needed to be careful.

It was actually nice to find people who were there for less time than I was. Literally, I came into contact with about 100 people traveling and most were out for between 6 months to a year.

Crashed pretty early. Last full day in the country tomorrow :(


You know you are traveling in Central America when…

1. A hotel for $17 looks expensive
2. You are smelling a three day old shirt thinking, can I get a fourth day out of it?
3. Your new cologne is “deep woods off”
4. Random kids come up to you almost daily and say “one two three four five”
5. You get to a hotel that is full, and you actually ask around if anyone is willing to share
6. You become accustomed to it taking three hours to travel 60 miles in a rural bus.
7. Seeing a full set of teeth is like seeing a lunar eclipse
8. It is common that most 15 year olds are working on their second kid
9. Locals will call relatives living in the states and hand the phone to you. Like you want to talk with them.
10. You are quoted an average of 40% higher than locals on most items.
11. You get on a bus and people stare at you like you are a Martian.

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The river - Dan Rodgerson

I thought I reached the end of the earth but I was wrong. Today we went for a ride/ journey up river to the fields and plantations where they grow rice, beans, bananas and this strange patato called ucca.

We went by canoe and saw about 10 other canoes heading to the fields as well. It was up river about 5 miles which took a few hours. Coming back took much shorter but we were loaded down with potato's and fire wood.

I am very intrigued by the Cayuga which is the hollowed out canoe. The take a huge piece of mahogany and whittle it down to make the boats. They are strong and heavy. Grandmothers going up river though rapids with babies, dogs and chickens.

We dropped three of the boys at the plantation and headed up stream to visit an indigenous village more remote and rustic than here

I am not feeling well. I have had sore glands for three days now, sneezing and runny nose. I hope it is nothing serious. A few people have asked about my health. About 50 mosquito bites, a spider bite and I break out into hives about once per day. The lack of food makes me a bit weak and I have been trying to keep up with their lifestyle. It is demanding. Nothing serious.
Going to crash early again and hopefully sleep off this crud.

Going to try and help with the culinary water project tomorrow. The government paid a contractor to provide a large water tower. The company did half the job and left town.


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arrival to mocoron - Dan Rodgerson

Just chilling in the front yard

The uninvited guest in my room

Getting water from the river

Another unwanted guest

Many people have tried to create a time machine. This is an easy way to go back a hundred years. There are about 2000 people in mocoron and three houses have power. Norma has a solar system on her compound and the other two are diesel generators. Nobody including Norma has running water. Each morning, the woman of the tribe head to the river to carry water on their head back to their homes. I tried it and it is not easy

Norma is a master fund raiser and has done amazing things for this small community From her efforts they have built a small medical clinic a church, two schools and important bridge and a community building that I am sleeping in. She has been trying to gauge how I can help and we are both not so sure. She is really fixated on making sure the people can be self sufficient and not just giving them things. If any school church group or club has any interest in helping there are hundreds of needs. A group of single mothers have banned together and live together and they and desperately looking for things like sewing machines or materials so they can make and sell bread.

They wanted me to bring a message back to the states that there are many strong women here looking for men. Seriously.

Life is simple the livestock nearly live with the families and the weekly soccer game is the highlight for entertainment. Normas asked to day if I knew anyone who had a series of age appropriate bible stories with pictures and activities for children that she can give to the local churches.

They are treating me like some dignitary and it kinda feels weird.

I needed to go to the river to bathe before church. I had a long shirt and some jeans. I went to church today and the church was in worse shape than most stables in the states. Here they do not speak Spanish regularity but most understand it. In la moskitia, there are four different tribal languages. At church, the preacher saw me come in and gave bits and pieces of the sermon in Spanish so I would understand.

Have met many people very timid at first but warm up quickly. The diet is rice and beans. I have been here for two days and already looking for something else. Want to catch fish to eat and I am not really fond of fish but it sounds good at this point.

In regards to the town, I am staying in the Hilton. Nice bed with a mosquito net. There were a few holes in my net and I got tagged several times. I got my sheet our from my pack and wraped myself in it with a small hole to breathe. Normas step daughters who is 14 helped me install another net today. I asked for some tape or needle and tread so I could sew up my net. She disappeared and came back with another one that had no holes. After we installed it, I learned it was the one from her bed.

When chloe got her new ipod for Christmas, I told her that santa needed her old one to work out and ski with. I have been traveling with this old ipiod and gave it to Anna. She acted as if I had given her a vehicle or something. She is a sweetheart and looking to come and study in the states. So mom, if you have a room available, I think it would be a great experience for everyone.

After church the town gathered for a meal. The idea is that people donate food and your buy it to help the church. Norma made me a plate with rice some weird patato and armadillo. (cost was thirty cents) The armadillo was actually pretty good but I could not get over the hoof on my plate. I took a few bites and a local dog got real lucky.

When a cow or pig gets killed for food, the don’t have regrigerators to keep the meat cool, so it all needs to get eaten within 48 hours. They announce throughout town when then plan to butcher so hopefully they can sell the remainder. Rumor is there is one going down today. I would pay about $100 for a fat steak right now.

The river is the lifeblood of the town. The drink from it, fish from it, wash in it, and it is the primary mode of transportation. Oh I forgot they play it in.

I spent several hours just walking the streets and talking to the locals. The are humble. I almost lost sight of the purpose of my trip. Aubin helped me put that back into perspective.

There is only very slow internet connection that a group from texas came and installed. I was showing a few of the locals pictures of my daughters and on my face book was a few pictures of them ice skating. They have never seen that before. I needed to explain how to freeze water, put knives on your feet and skate around. Sounded kinda stupid. They are amused by the most simple things like taking a picture of them on a digital camera and looking at themselves.

Since most do not have power, the nights are lit by candles or simply going to bed early. I have been in bed by 730 the past few nights.

It rains a lot here. When it is raining outside, everything inside gets moist and damp. If it continues to rain, the roads here will be worse and I may have to wait a few days for the road to dry before I can leave.

The sounds of the jungle are unique and hard to explain. Hundreds of unique birds, howls in the background, coupled with the sounds of lifestock, rain, the river and of course the kids playing.

It is 7:30 now and it is raining. The woman are bringing water from the creek and the fires are burning for breakfast. Let me guess….beans and tortillas. The first thing you need to do when you wake is put on insect repellant.

I noticed bat poop in my room when I first got here. It was the same that we used to see in whaley lake when we were kids. Brooklyn, a friend of the family found the source of the poop. Should not kill bats he says because they eat the mosquitoes. He laughed when I said we need to make sure they don’t eat the Moskitos.

This is where laundry gets done. On these rocks

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A day wandering the streets - Dan Rodgerson

This is the old pier. Watch were you step for a few different reasons. There are four family living under this on the shore side.

This is the old train from Dole bannana company

After my near death experience from costa rica I have no interest in getting on a plane. Since the flight does not leave until tomorrow, I decided to head toward the port to look for passage to Puerto Lempira. While looking for passage you are looking at two things simultaneously. The seaworthiness of the vessel and the trustworthiness of the crew. It is illegal here to book passengers on a cargo ship, so you are already operating in a grey area. There are horror stores that get told around hostels after a few beers about tourists being asked to walk the plank. Of course without their gear money or passports.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a dozen boats in the harbor and three heading in my direction. The boats had been in port for over a week. Apparently they were waiting for two things. A break in the weather and high tide. I found passage on two boats, one for free and the other for about $60. The vessel which was free gave rides to the area to missionaries for Karma points. I became a missionary. Take about Karma. The only problem was that they did not know when they would leave. Maybe sat, maybe Sunday. “Solo dios sabe” only god knows. Figured since I lied about being a missionary, it would be inappropriate to ask him.

I would have rather spent 36 hours on a cargo ship than one hour in a plane but since my time is limited here, I will stick to my flight plan. From there it is a combination of trucks, boats and hollowed out wooden canoes to get to the village.

Spend the day wandering the streets, fishing with a few kids on the pier and taking a bus back and forth to the pier to see if god let the boats go. The old dock was constructed back in the twenties by the dole banana company to transport bananas stateside. It had seen better days. While walking back I saw a guy squatting on the lower level of the bride. I was curious and stopped. Not to self, it is a good rule to never stop and look when someone is squatting. Yes, dropping bombs 15 feet down into the ocean. No sign of paper anywhere. Now that we are on the bathroom subject…. In bus stations they charge to use the bathroom. I asked the attendant if there was a different price for number one or number two because I believe there are significant differences in the impact. He tried to answer but did not realize I was just giving him crap. In more ways that one. It was two and a half cents. No real reason to bargain. Also, they do not throw the paper in the toilet. It goes in the trash can. So yes, you guessed it, you are sitting there inches away from feces from a dozen dudes from a third world country.

I recieved a call from a municipality regarding a potential job. Although I have three interviews set up, this is the one I am really interested in. At first, I thought they would feel strange about getting a call from Honduras but the secretary found it amusing. Hell, anything to stand apart from the pack. Hope it works. The interview is next Friday so I will only be able to spend about 6 days with the tribe. Maybe by that time I will be ready to leave. I have about a 4 day threshold of bathing without hot water. Before I go, I do want to climb a volcano, see some mayan ruins and damn it, I want to see a monkey.

I have to wake up around 4:30 to catch my flight in the morning. Will be another boring night

This is a park in the center of town

This is a dead dog

From a small cafe overlooking the water

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On the road again.... - Dan Rodgerson

My mother called and asked…what is going on? I told her that I was doing well, going to have dinner with my girls and heading back to Honduras on a red eye flight. Silence. Then my mother could not contain herself, "what in the hell are you going back for?" I told her that I did not do what I came here to do and I wanted to go back. “well alright” The emphasis was on the last syllable and only my brothers would understand the affirmative response riddled with the disapproval.

Although my last trip was amazing, I feel it was not complete. My goal has been to try to turn a crummy situation into something positive. Excited about going to a place where not many white men have gone, and I am not talking about west valley or downtown Bridgeport.

I grabbed a friends laptop because hers was a bit smaller and lighter. I feel I will regret that promise….if I break it, I will replace it.

I packed a bit differently. Already left my new sunglasses at my brothers house.

Went back to the states, scheduled a few interviews, had to deal with a dead beat renter, moved some money around and headed back. Rough flight. Red eye and I think the pilot was looking for rough air to stay awake and the lady behind me was practicing her kick boxing on the back of my seat.

I hate to fly and I can't imagine that the plane from Costa Rica to San Pedro Sula will be very big. Might be a rough afternoon.










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The night in Tela - Dan Rodgerson

The hotel on the hill was $25 American a night. It was expensive but had an amazing view, hammocks on the balcony, and hot water. I had not taken a shower in three days.
Still disappointed and confused, I dropped off my laundry and walked down by the beach. It was a bit dark and rainy. I noticed there were three little kids following me; I was not sure why. I turned a corner, and they were still behind me. I finally realized why. I was drinking a Fanta soda in a glass bottle, and they were waiting for me to throw it away so they could dig the bottle out of the trash to recycle it.

I went to have dinner and bumped into a six pack of gringos. The cafe was crowded so I invited them to join me. Three men from Ireland came to help build houses. Two men from England were teaching English to the locals. And the sixth person was a tattooed girl with several facial piercings from the States. Of course, the one that looked like a clown was American.
Conversation was lively but hard to understand with such thick accents. The single guy from Ireland told a story of a woman who came up to him in a club the previous night. She was anxious to introduce him to her daughter. After a few dances, they parted and the mother approached him looking for payment. She was pimping her own daughter.

I enjoyed my time with them but was preoccupied with the thought of whether this would be my last night abroad or not. I walked home and was approached by a woman who asked for about $10 American for "services". I immediately left.

Early the next morning, I took a bus to San Pedro to see if I could catch a flight. I received a call from a municipality who wanted to schedule an interview. The bus driver left me on the side of the road and pointed toward the airport. I put out my thumb and was picked up by the first truck. I booked a ticket to Miami.

I planned to crash at my buddies’ place in Fort Lauderdale, but he was not returning from Miami until the following night. So, I found a cheap hotel in Fort Lauderdale. I was tempted to ask if they had hot water. I was without a car in South Florida and figured if I could navigate my way through four third world countries I could get around on the Broward County bus system. I was wrong. I found my way to a mall to buy a charger for my phone. When she said it would cost $20 I literally asked, "Is that the best you can do?" I was conditioned to Central/South American haggling!

I had made it back to the States and was still disappointed and depressed. I nearly had a meltdown the following day in Deerfield Beach and navigated my way back to the airport to meet my buddy.

The goal of the trip was to spend time with the Moskito Indians and hopefully forget about my life's dramas. I did not meet that goal. I did, however, meet some amazing people. I swam with rays off the coast of Belize, traveled through jungles and mountain villages, and most importantly really connected with many of the locals in regard to their lives, values, cultures, and traditions.

I really feel that when we meet our Maker, (however you define that) He/She/It will ask a series of questions. Did you visit foreign lands? Walk on the Great Wall of China? Learn about other people’s values and culture? Did you try to walk in the shoes of the less fortunate? Did you surf on the coast of Costa Rica? Hopefully Maker does not ask if you maintained employment.
Being there felt good, natural, and warm—until the realities of my life crept back in.
I feel that my purpose or mission is not done here. I will be going back. There are several chapters of my guide book that have not been opened, and several unstamped pages of my passport.

I think I am addicted to this type of travel. I caught the travel bug, and hopefully that was the only thing I caught while I was there.

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10/19/2100

Random thoughts... Dan Rodgerson

I spent the night in Tulum and loved it. I did not really interact with anyone until I was leaving and sitting at the bus stop. I noticed that most backpackers had covers over their packs. I asked a wise ass girl from Ireland “why”, and she condescendingly responded, “Because we are close to the RAIN forest.” I smiled and thought, “Does she shave her armpits?”

When you meet fellow travelers out here the first question is always, “Where are you from?” The second question is, “How long have you been out?” And the third question is, “Where are you going?” So, in the interest of time, people will greet by answering the questions without being asked. My response is, “Utah, four days, and La Moskitia”. This trip really seems like much longer than four days. When I tell people I am going to Moskita, their responses are concerning: "wild", "brave", "jungle", "rough", etc.

The weather has been about 75 degrees. Actually, that is unseasonably cold, but I think I have followed a cold front through (puddles everywhere).

Backpackers are very cool people. They are much different than tourists. Weathered, a bit dirty, and always quick to strike up a conversation for any insight about where to go and where not to go.

I was very relaxed in Tulum and loved walking the city streets at night: no fear at all. I realize that sounds stupid for a gringo with $300 bucks in his pocket. This country has many similarities to my time spent in Uruguay: smells of fruit, tortillas, and burning garbage.

Since I had an hour to kill in the morning, I offered to help a young man make tortillas. I don't think that I helped much, but he was amused.

To be down here is like walking into Disneyland....sensory overload.

On the bus from Tulum I met two guys who became running buddies for the next two days: Jimmy and Martin from Denmark. Traveling in groups is much safer and cheaper.

I spent 8 hours on a bus Tuesday. The first bus I took at the airport had air, TV, and total luxury. The second bus didn’t have TV, but it still had air. Then, the third bus....literally an old school bus from the seventies. I think it was the bus from the Partridge family.

I have been thinking that I wish my girls were here to experience this. Chloe would love it, and Aubin would bitch the entire time but secretly enjoy herself.

I watched a young family on the bus traveling with a 3 year old. The child was so content just playing with his mother for three hours. He was quite a contrast to the family on the bus at the airport from Illinois whose child squealed like a pig every three and a half minutes for attention. The Nintendo DS and DVD player were not enough to keep him amused. I wanted to stuff him into my backpack.

Helmets are required here on motorcycles, but apparently riding a family of 5 on a 1980 Honda Passport 70cc scooter is legal. Hmm Maybe that is why helmets are required.

I have been stressed about money and time. I am totally blowing my budget. Yes, it is possible to live here for $20 per day, but not with busses, taxis, internet, etc. My more realistic new budget is about $40 a day. So, I set a new goal as well: no more than 5 hours a day on a bus!
The nights have been a bit chilly. I did not expect that.

I need to lose some gear. My bag is so heavy.

We missed the bus at the border of Chetsumal. Our new friend from Ireland showed us where the other bus terminal was. It was a hot day now, and I was carrying a heavy bag 20 blocks in a border town.

I really don't mind when the kids beg for money. It just really bothers me when they touch and hang on.

I had my morning coffee and was thinking...should I really be drinking something that acts like a laxative? Especially if I am getting on a bus for 4 hours, I considered.

Long ride into Belize City. It is a scary place, and we arrived late. Three white guys with backpacks on the worst side of town. Horrible situation to be in; I was terrified. People offered us weed, coke, girls, and even little boys (okay, maybe better my girls are not here).

We finally found a cheap hotel: about $35 for the three of us. We had a private room with private bath and hot water (you need to ask about the hot water). Isabella’s Guest House. The three of us did the math by first converting to our own currency then dividing by three. The lady from the hotel highly suggested we NOT go out at night, but we had to get something to eat.

We took a cab and found a good restaurant. We had a few beers and local food. In the cab the driver once again offered us any and everything. I was going to ask for a monkey, but I was afraid he might have one. We were all exhausted from the day’s travel and crashed by ten.
Amazing how the world watched Obama take office. I had no idea. Jimmy, my running buddy, said that when the US sneezes, the world gets sick: sad.

I need to exchange money.

It is a simple life here. Many houses do not have front doors. There are homes made of cardboard, scraps of sheet metal, and even some shacks on stilts over swamp land. I know is sounds cliché after that description, but they are happy people.

I am now in an area not without any Americans: feels kinda good.

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The plan....

About 6 hours a day combing classifieds...career builder, monster, hot jobs, yeah! Staring at this box, thinking as each day goes by my income requirements seem to go down. (This is kind of like dating in your thirties.) Do I want to manage a beach in CA? Do I want to manage fairgrounds in WA? Or, do I want to be a Parks and Recreation Director in the small town where my ex in-laws live? Not!

When you are teetering on depression, you might consider that a small remote oil field town in Northern Utah where it averages 8 degrees in the winter is not one of the best places to be. I feel about as out of place as I did as a Yankee living in South Carolina. The only thing worse than not being Mormon and living is Utah is once having been Mormon and living in Utah.

I figured the best way to keep my head was to head out of town. I headed back east to eat turkey with my folks for Thanksgiving. I received an e-mail from Gigi Love, an artist/musician/friend, whose mother runs a foundation in a remote area of Honduras. I spent some time looking at the site...her mission...philosophy, etc. Suddenly, I thought, “How can I help?” I am not much of a builder or farmer, and I have no medical skills (besides putting hydrogen peroxide on everything). Hell, I could help them recreate! At least I am good at something. My girls and I met her as she strummed a guitar in a coffee shop in Sugar House about two years ago. I-tune her. Good stuff. She was singing a song about giving her a smile and making her day. Apparently, she was not specifically talking to me.

You can view the foundation at normalove.org. Enter the site and watch the video on U-tube. I particularly like the idea that they are not trying to cram an ideology or sell salvation for a pair of shoes.

I have spent years writing grants and soliciting money for municipal organizations. I figured I would visit the area, humor them with my attempts to help with manual labor, and come back to the States to help where I can. Since I am technically unemployed, I figured the trip would have to be cheap: dirty chicken busses, hostels, hitching a ride whenever possible, etc. The most expensive part will be getting there and back. I figured the best way for me to travel would be to fly into Cancun or Belize and travel down the coast.

While looking for fares on Orbitz, I saw one of those annoying ticklers about "Cruise to Cozumel for $199". Since I was on ambien and a bit dazed, I followed the link. I am pretty sure this is how gay porn infiltrated and took over my desk top computer (following links, not chasing porn). Twenty minutes later I was on the phone with the lady from Carnival Cruise Lines. "Sir, why would you not want to get back on the boat in Cozumel?" After lengthy communication three supervisors later, I learned you need the captain’s approval to "jump ship".

I have been on a few cruises before, and I felt that nearly every port on the K-mart cruises was so plastic, fake, staged, and no real representation of the local area. They were more like some cardboard cut-outs from Hollywood with 150 locals broken-English hawkers pushing taxi rides, tours, and weed. I was looking to quickly get out of the tourist areas. There is nothing about this trip that makes practical or financial sense. Not sure why I am inclined. I think mainly to help put things into perspective and realize there is life past Utah.


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