On Arrival

* A note - this one is backdated. We've been here for quite a bit now, and this is really the first opportunity to sit down at MY computer. Lauren's been hogging the little internet that we actually have. She's an internets thief. Anyway, this was written a few days after we'd been here.

We landed in Tegucigalpa on Thursday. The day started around 5AM in Atlanta, and we touched down a little after noon. The flight's around 3 and half hours. Not too long. And it's primary over the Gulf & Carribean, so there's some amazing views of white fluffy clouds and the sea. Lots and lots of clouds and sea.

We also flew over Cuba. I waved at Raul.

However, the kicker of the flight is the landing in Tegucigalpa - one of the more dangerous airports in the world, primarily due to its short runway. The plane comes in fairly low and you think, "Ok. We're about to land." Then - boom. It's a sharp 90% left turn, which I can only imagine is at about 45%. It's ridiculous. I had a window exit-seat over the left wing, and probably could have easily touched the telephone poles from the wingtip.

It's a frightening experience, and it jolts home why pilots are paid so much. At least the non-puddle-jumpers.

Earlier on approach, the flight attendant had passed by and asked my seatmate if he needed anything. He jokingly mentioned that - no he was okay, and that we were ready to open the door should something happen. The reality of the situation sunk in when she looked at him and in a non-joking manner said, "Good. Because when I fly into Teguz, I'm always ready."

Dios mio.

Anywho - it's an interesting ride, and on my next trip in, I'm going to film it. Or maybe somebody can find it on YouTube. My paltry words are really not doing it justice.

*I found a fairly good one on YouTube.  Here it is:

But, then we were in Honduras. And it's not really different than I had expected.

Hot. Spanish. People. (These words are not necessarily in order.)

Also it is hot. Caliente. Fuerte. Hot. Fuerte doesn't mean hot, but if I were designing the language I would make it mean hot. It sounds like it should be hot.

Honduras is hot. There. No mas.

It's overwhelming of course (e.g. the landing, customs, the fact that you're in Honduras, the heat) but there was a significant moment of United Statesianism (I'm coining new words as we're trying not to use American. It's offensive down here, as everyone in Latin, Central and South America considers themselves Americans - which does make sense. More on this, and other non-transferable words, later I'm sure.) when we were met by the Peace Corps Country Director at baggage.

So as you leave customs, completely bewildered and exhausted, there's your future boss waiting to introduce herself and shake your hand. In English. And on reflection with Lauren, I'm pretty sure there were United States flags waving. (More difficult than I thought - not using American.)

I liked the setup. It was a nice touch.

Then we were shuttled out of the airport, fed some Pizza Hut (another glimpse of home,) and ferried into the mountains. All within about 45 minutes. An impressive feat, considering there were 53 of us, each lugging around 80lbs of baggage.

Who says goverment efficancy doesn't exist.

-Jacob