No Hay Nadie Como Tu – part seven

Dear readers,

21st July 2015

It was a Tuesday and I woke up very excited to see my cousins, while knowing the haste to the wedding was truly going to kick in, especially as the wedding decorator/planner was not answering to calls, I had all sorts of legal documents I needed for the wedding, the new job and immigration floating around my head. Stress always seems to come in twos and threes, no matter what wise men say about planning effectively ahead of time (believe me, I try to). I think it’s because there’s nothing wise about Honduran bureaucracy, or wisdom about it’s slow pace which seems to be run by lethargic devils.

There was also the predicament about my cousin’s luggage that had been left in transit at one of the airports coming from Cuba. Toncontin would be a well visited airport that day, as my uncle and aunt would be arriving as well.

Jordan, forever the gentleman, was sleeping on the sofa at myz apartment, refusing to take the bed, even though the sofa was a foot too short. I wondered about the state of his back and mind. But he seemed content. Sunshine, great coffee and cheap beer seemed a great consolation. We hopped over to Casa Bella to meet Sam. Hannah had already gone to retrieve her baggage with Pam, so I decided to be the tour guide around the city centre, which geographically isn’t the centre of the city at all, but more towards the north. We stopped off at the Galeano store in Palmira, which has made quite a stylish name for itself as a social enterprise that raises money and clothes through selling cool designed tshirts and a funky coffee shop, for children and families living in poverty in rural areas throughout Honduras. By the end of the Honduran stay, I think my family had bought enough tshirts and coffee to keep the project running for a few decades.


We then strolled into the bustling centre where we stopped off at the Iglesia Dolores, the market nearby (to try a legendary baleada) and the cathedral, but was unable to fit in MIN (Museum of National Identity).




(Photos by Jordan: used without permission)

As I had a tight itinerary and a family of hungry mouths, I took them to Cafe Paradiso, a place I’ve had quite a long affinity with. It’s a bohemian cafe, book shop and artist hangout. It’s also where I took Pamela on our first dates, where Hazel and I used to catch up and talk at length of tales and the complexities of Honduran life and where I was once chased by a dog. It is a place I knew my parents really enjoyed the first time I brought them. Artistic, green, nice food and something alternative. It has featured on my blog a few times. The family really seemed to enjoy it. Right up their alley, really.



(Photos by Jordan: used without permission)

It was here though that I had to get my legal hat on though, when I received a phone call from my lawyer to get things ready for her on the ready. I then made off to get those things done, taking a whole afternoon, while the family went back to the hotel. When I got back, my uncle and aunt had arrived, but then Pamela and I had to pretty much confront Alejandro, the wedding decorator, to find out what he was up to. Cool as a breeze, he showed us that all was pretty much set.

I don’t know what time we were finished, but the gin and tonic I felt that night was richly deserved.

22nd July 2015

I will be quite honest, I can’t remember much about this day, other than going to the mall, going to confession, buying masses of wine for the civil wedding and having to do more legal stuff.

Don’t worry, the next day I would remember quite a bit better: it would be the civil wedding day.

To be continued…


About Nicholas Rogers

I am an English journalist/copywriter living in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, and I have been here since 2011. I originally came to work with Casa Alianza, which supports street kids and vulnerable youths. I then stayed on, after meeting Pamela Cruz Lozano, who calls me her adopted Catracho. I work freelance journalism and I have my own translation business. Why did I come here? For the challenge, to open my mind and get out of my comfort zone. I love literature and I've written a book with street kids. I write novels, short stories and poetry, all of which you will find on this blog, as well as a lot of information about Honduras. View all posts by Nicholas Rogers

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