Marcela, the surgeon!
My first stop carrying my pack was to get a new passport and visit my sister Marcela in Tegucigalpa. My baby sister is now a third year surgical resident. She brought me to two of her all night shifts where I was a medical tourist. Regulations are not so strict in Honduras, I think if I had asked I might have helped! It mean, it was only an appendectomy...
During my visit, I got to know my brother in law, Jorge and his family much better. They are a family of liberals, artists and musicians within a very conservative Honduran society. They even regularly cook soy! They are my kind of people.
After the daily struggle of trying to get a passport, I would spend time with Marcela. For the first time in years, I was able to see how she lived. I reconnected with her in a way that canĀ“t be done long distance. It reminded me that there is no replacement for time spent together. Yep, not even a blog site :-)
The bureaucracy involved in getting a new passport when you have not lived in Honduras for 15 years is mind-boggling. I waited in lines long enough to make a Buddhist monk bonkers... luckily, in the end, I have a new passport and am off to Nicaragua, the land of leftist insurgencies and volcanoes.
The bureaucracy involved in getting a new passport when you have not lived in Honduras for 15 years is mind-boggling. I waited in lines long enough to make a Buddhist monk bonkers... luckily, in the end, I have a new passport and am off to Nicaragua, the land of leftist insurgencies and volcanoes.