Over the years
I’ve had hundreds of visits of friends, family members, acquaintances and
friends of friends, not to speak of the many volunteers who worked with my art
organization and stayed here for weeks or sometimes even years. Some of those
stays were more successful than others, but there is one that is quite
outstanding and, after all these years, quite funny.
When I was
fourteen or so, I was “difficult”. So “difficult” in fact, that my parents
thought it a good idea to ship me off for a while to this couple of artist
friends they had. It was a great
idea, and it just proved I wasn’t “difficult” at all, I just happened to be
bored out of my mind at home and thought everything there was “stupid”.
So I had a great
time, not knowing back then that one day I would pay the price…
A couple of years
ago, that same artist couple contacted me and said they had a little “problem”.
The son of one of their best friends was being “difficult”, being in his late
teens without knowing what to do with himself, so the solution was to ship him
off to Honduras
for a few months so he could straighten himself out.
Okay, no problem.
I’d give him a room in my office and keep an eye on him, but with no intention
of any interventions, because I know from experience what one needs when being
“difficult”.
So the day this
kid arrived, let’s call him Pedro, I had him picked up at the airport by a
friend who would put him on the bus to Copán early the next morning.
The first bus
arrived from San Pedro Sula,
but no Pedro. The second one… still no Pedro. So I called my friend in the city
and it turned out all was well, they were “just chilling” and Pedro would
arrive with the last bus heading out.
Indeed, at 6pm
or so, Pedro got off the bus, a charming, well behaved and friendly kid. Thing
is, he was not alone. He had in his wake an eight or nine year old boy that
followed him around like a puppy. I asked Pedro where the kid came from and he
really couldn’t say, just that he had been on the bus with him from San Pedro Sula and that
he called him “papi”. Oh crap! I told Pedro that under NO circumstances the kid
was allowed into my office, which from now on was Pedro’s home. Pedro looked at
me as if I was the cruellest bitch on earth so I had to explain him that the
kid, despite being just a kid, probably already was a professional criminal and
that he’s better watch out for his belongings. (I am actually not that
heartless and made sure the boy had, in return for cleaning the bus of the
company next door, to eat and a place to sleep, but I was right: a few weeks
later there was a raid by the local FBI in the hotel next door, the kid dragged
along by the agents: it turned out he was a scout for a gang in the city and
responsible for a whole string of break-ins in town…)
Anyway, back to
Pedro’s first night in Copán. There was a party that night in town, a goodbye
party for a friend who worked as a manager in a big hotel just out of town. I
figured it would be a good idea to take Pedro along and introduce him to the
local crowd. It was indeed a fun night, but around midnight I was ready to go
home. Pedro wanted to party on, but I told him it would be better if I dropped
him off at his room since he didn’t even know the layout of the town yet and
not to worry, there would be undoubtedly many more parties to come. Pedro was
wise enough to agree, so I left him in his room and went to my own apartment
next door to write Pedro’s dad that his son was sound and safe in bed…
Little did I know
that he wasn’t… Neither did I know the next morning, because Pedro never told
me, but Copán is a small place, so I found out anyway…
That night, as
soon as I had turned around, Pedro sneaked out of his room and went back to the
bar. When the bar closed, Pedro didn’t go to sleep, but instead joined a brand
new best friend, also from out of town, to the string of cantinas and lowlifes, the one place I had told him not to go. They were standing outside a cantina, drinking a beer, when the
police drove by and before they knew it, they were thrown in jail. Drinking in
a public place (they were standing on the street) is against the law and
although that law is never enforced when it concerns local drunks, it’s a lot
more profitable to pick up strangers who break the law.
So within twelve
hours of his stay in Copán, Pedro already found himself in the drunk tank,
without belt or shoelaces, and getting quite anxious. It was a good thing his
new best friend worked for a big international organization and was able to
talk them out of jail in a matter of hours. The police insisted on driving them
back home, just to make sure they were indeed who they said they were. Problem
was, Pedro had no idea where his room was, so he went with his buddy to his
hotel, the big one just outside of town whose manager’s goodbye we had
celebrated just hours before. In the end, they had to knock on my friend the
manger’s door and yes, he remembered Pedro and was so kind to drive him back to
town, finally to bed… At 6am….
When I finally
heard about this episode weeks later (many more Pedro adventures happened in
the mean time) I also learned it hadn’t been his first encounter with Honduran
police! The night he arrived in San
Pedro Sula, my friend took him clubbing and
unfortunately that was the night the police decided to raid the club. At the
exact moment of the raid, Pedro was in a bathroom stall emptying his bowels, when
the police, heavily armed, hooded and dressed in bullet proof vests stormed in.
Since Pedro didn’t speak a word of Spanish, he couldn’t follow their
instructions and was dragged outside. My friend came to his rescue and in the
end, nothing happened, but it was quite a welcome to Honduras.
Pedro stayed for
a few months and we had a great time, since he’s adorable and cute, one of
those people you can’t stay angry with long. I could write many more posts
on Pedro’s Adventures in Copán, because
everything always seemed to happen when he was right there. I mean, how many
times do moto-taxis actually just topple over? Never, as far as I know, except
when Pedro was inside one…
So, yes, it was
sad to see Pedro leave. But it also a relief…
By the way, it
seemed to have worked: Pedro has straightened out quite well. Although he’ll
always be Pedro of course…
No comments:
Post a Comment