Sunday, March 31, 2013

The Underbelly

Every city has them. The places where vices live. In Copan, this is it. A bunch of nondescript, deserted juice stands and shacks you wouldn't look twice at during the day. But at night. Watch out.

When I first arrived here, green as grass, Rudy, the man of the house in my first family warned, "Don't go south more than two blocks. "It isn't safe," he said. So I stayed well clear. But I didn't know exactly what from.

I spent most of the day today with Yarely, my last week's instructor. She'll be another one of my Skype teachers when I arrive home. She has a degree in education and a bunch of certificates and nails my language problems.

Employment here is at an unimaginable 40 percent and with only part time employment, Yarely is looking for other options. So together we created a Master Team of people who can help her move forward. And we walked through the Red Light District, which, during the day isn't so scary after all.

The barrio where the mayor and Yarely live is beautiful and it was here all along. It just goes to show you that beauty is all around us. We just have to find it.

the go to place for drugs, prostitutes and booze

Blogsy is giving me grief again. So photos of prostitute havens are mixed up with a doctor's home in a beautiful area and the Easter Sunday procession of the resurrection. Ah well. All life is connected.

 

 

 

 

Hasta Manana

busy by night
waiting for a rider
owned by drug lord who went bust
elegant water tank
Yarely
street where folks exercise
small procession because of problems with the priest transfer
Easter Sunday procession
Juice by day. Booze by night.
doctor's house

 

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