So now what?

I'm home. But that's not what it feels like at the moment. I remember my first days in Honduras and how difficult it seemed. In many ways its different and the same the other way around. I got use to a lifestyle over there, and now I have to start on square one here. That feeling of being uprooted kinda lingers both ways. I'm sure that in a few months I will not be missing Honduras so much, but I do at the moment and if you know me, you know that given the political excitement...I rather be there right now.
I exited the country the day before the "coup." I felt like how many Cubans might have felt when they were leaving their country in new year's eve of 1958. In many ways, its a similar story. I called the US embassy the week before where they assured me that my visa was ready, and could come in the following week to pick it up. I asked for closer dates since by then everyone in Honduras was bracing themselves for a political catastrophe. The embassy accommodated my request and I found myself with the visa in hand on Friday. By that night I had a printed ticket with Saturday morning as the flight date.
My goodbyes were in a rush. I think I got to everybody, except my poor aunt Elsa in Rio Lindo who I never saw the whole year I was there. By the time I was running around picking up my visa, I had been in Tegucigalpa too many times and so had wore my welcome with the Bermudez family. Jesus de Otoro was a letdown. Nobody was around, only cousin Carmen and Jaqui. Out of all of them, Carmen was the most welcoming and accommodating- a little too much sometimes. She made it a point to cook me my last Honduran meal, which I had to wait a couple of hours for. I had no time to waste then and was anxious to leave waaaay before she started the rice. I ate that meal in a hurry and jumped on the first bus back to Siguatepeque. I did not have much as far as furniture or other household items go. In the end I left the apartments with my carry on and my laptop. I donated many things to El Alba School so that another teacher might use them, and threw away most of my clothes. Kept a few things to remind me of Sigua, and did not pack any liquids. My last stop was San Pedro Sula on Friday night.
My cousin Denis picked me up in Sigua. He thought I had a lot of things, and brought a pick up truck to help me- of course, that was not necessary. I gave him all my dvd's and Cd's. On the three hour drive from Sigua, we played Nirvana (Nevermind) over and over because he had me translating the songs and was amazed at Cobain's mentality. He was a little concerned for his psyche and warned that the guy might end up killing himself....... Had my really last meal in San Pedro at my favorite place- Power Chicken (if you go to San Pedro, you have to go there!!), with my Aunt, Uncle and Denis. Left them all Honduran currency that I carried, and was gone the next day.
Entering the US legally for the first time in my life was no sweat. All the time that I'd lived in the US without papers I was always afraid of immigration. Not this time. It feels liberating when you have all the paperwork necessary to enter. I even spoke with the agent checking me in about the Honduran situation (I'll get to that on my next post). Was led by another agent to offices where I was processed and told "Welcome to America." Now that's something nice hear. I thought to myself at that time, "the world is mine." So I signed up for the army...just kidding...seriously some "people" will not let me make that decision, but I would go. The next thing is sign up to be a cop...kidding?
Out all of this, leaving Sigua was heart wrenching...I will never forget that place.