A couple of weeks ago I ran into an old acquaintance who reminded me of a terrific party we once had in my house, years and years ago. Now, I’ve had many good parties in my house, back in the time when it seemed we all didn’t do much more than partying anyway, but this one was truly memorable.
I have no idea how it all started and what the occasion was, but there was some sort of cultural event in town that had ended way to early to our likes and somehow a whole bunch of people ended up in my house. There was Nury from San Pedro Sula, celebrating her birthday and dying to get rid of the huge birthday cake she was carrying around all over town. Guillermo Anderson, Honduras’ most famous musician was there too, as well as a bunch of people from Nicaragua and Costa Rica. Looking at pictures, I also know there were some tour guides and even Nelson, a local teacher who won’t miss the opportunity to go for a swing. Also present were some close friends, an employee of mine even, but mostly people I met there and then for the first time.
The cake, that nobody was much interested in, disappeared into the kitchen and a little later disappeared quite literally when my dog Monster took advantage of the fact that we were all dancing the night away in the living room. There was little left but a huge moustache of icing around his nose. But nobody cared: we listened to live music, danced to the few salsa CD’s I had while more and more people arrived, filling every corner of my tiny house. There must have been booze, obviously, but apparently not enough. While going over the damage the next morning I realised someone had gotten into my decorative bottles of coloured water. The clear glass bottles that I had filled with tainted water to match the glass bottle stops were now half empty. Someone must have had quite a hangover that day… Well, we probably all did, but the party was well worth it…
A year or two later I visited the cultural centre Casa de los Tres Mundos in Granada, Nicaragua, were I met the Minister of Culture. When he heard I was from Copán, he told me about his last trip there, where he had had the greatest time. He told me his that his friend Angela, who happens to be one of my best friends too, even took him to some private home where they danced till the early morning. That’s when I realised why the guy looked so familiar! He had been one of my guests!
“Aha!” the Minister of Culture said. “So it was your dog that ate the cake!”
So, yes, that was a good one! But far from the only one. We seem to be pretty good at partying here in Copán. At least, we used to be, because now we’re of course much more serious and mature and go to bed a ten every night…