Part of the fun of going to so many different countries is that we have several travel days, which never fail to be an adventure.
We were supposed to make the ride from Guatemala to Honduras on Saturday, but due to flooding from the tropical storm, our travel got pushed back to Sunday.
So Sunday morning came around, (bright and early, 4am) and we all loaded up in a bus. The estimates we were given for the lenvth of our ride ranged from 8-12 hours. About seven hours later, we hit the Honduran border (not a good sign for our ETA). I got through the line to exit Guatemala with no problem, but I was last in line for entrance to Honduras.
Finally I got to the front of the line, when the guy behind the counter astutely observed “Hay una mas?” (There’s one more?) Um, yeah. “Si.”
He looks around. “Tienes pasaporta?” (Do you have your passport?)
Uh, no, I gave it to your coworker in the exit line. “No, tu tienes” (No, you have it), I replied.
He looks around again. “No, no tengo” (No, I don’t have it).
Um, well you better find it quick! At first I wasn’t concerned because I knew it had to be back there. I had physically seen it go behind that counter. But after 15 minutes of frantic searching (at last they were trying!) I was getting concerned.
Finally, he pulls the passport up to the counter. Phew. I asked where it was. “En la vasura” (In the trash). Wonderful. I’m trying to get in your country, and you’re throwing my passport in the garbage!
Finally, we were able to get across the border and continue on our way. After one tire change and several more hours (think 11pm) we made it to the spot where (we hoped) our squadmates’ ministry host was going to pick us up and let us stay until we could make the rest of our trip the next day (only three more hours, whoo!). Except it turned out they had shown up, waited, given up, and gone back home.
So now we had to flag down our bus driver, and get him to take us to a local hostel. So finally, at 12:30 am, at the end of a travel day that had taken a total of 20.5 hours (remember, when we were told 8-12? Haha), we stumbled into our top bunks (because all the bottom bunks were already taken by strangers).
So this is my welcome to Honduras. 20 hour bus rides, thrown away passports, and missed rides. And you know what? God’s still good and still has a plan. So bring it on Honduras! Can’t wait to see what else you have in store!
