So this last Saturday (July 31st), a group of fellow PC trainees and I went to a local national park, La Tigra, which is about half an hour from our site. We were able to catch a ride there on a bus with a group of students and teachers from the local colegio (high school). While this was convenient and cheep in terms of transportation, it came with a catch; namely that we had to travel with a group of like 80 high schoolers. In case you are not familiar with high school students in large packs, it involves a lot of raging hormones and a driving desire to be cool. Thus the bus ride was full of loud yelling, giggling and screeching. Also as in any situation involving colegio girls and male PC volunteers, there was a fair amount of being awkwardly hit on my 15 year olds. Couple this atmosphere with a six am wake up, a migraine, and having to stand up in a crowded school bus driving up a winding road, and you have my morning. Needless to say, the breakfast of hot milk and refried beans on tortillas was doing its part to contribute to my feelings of discomfort; though at least I was able to avoid losing this savory breakfast upon exiting the bus, as one unfortunate volunteer did.
Luckily for me and my fellow volunteers however, the days hike more than made up for the bus ride. As a background on the park, it is a cloud forest at the top of a mountain, with some spectacular vistas and hidden waterfalls. Also unlike American national parks, where fat Midwestern tourists can drive their SUVs and campers right up to the entrance (or in some cases can now drive ATVs and snow mobiles throughout and never have to subject themselves to actual walking), at La Tigre you have to walk about two hours up from the nearest little town up to the park entrance. As a side historical note, the park used to be the sight of a major gold mine from the late 1800s through the 1930s. Thus the town was at one point a major commerce hub and still shows the vestiges of its past grandeur, in the form of beautiful classic architecture poking up from a skyline of concrete and mud brick houses and corrugated tin roofs. The result of this is that the town has a very cool, ghost-town vibe tucked away in the folds of the mountain.
From the town, it is a steep uphill trek on a semi-paved side road up to the park entrance. This was definitely the hardest part of the climb, as for the most part you are left in direct sunlight and are still below the cloud line and cool temperatures that accompany it. Thus when we finally reached the visitor center, we were drenched in sweat and full of a sense of accomplishment. From there the next step was getting into the park. This was actually a bit of a tricky situation and involved some finesse, because the entrance fee can vary heavily and is fully dependent on the mood of the park director. This is because there are different prices for Honduran residents (20 Lempiras, or 1 dollar) and foreigners (ten US dollars). Though as PC volunteers we are considered residents and entitled the lower price, as well as a ten Lempira (50 cent) discount. Unfortunately as trainees, we do not yet have our residence card, and thus had to rely on our abilities to talk the director into the lower price. After some haggling we got in for 20 Lemps, and the experience was well worth it, also one of my friends somehow ended up trading boots with the 70 year old park director. It was pretty comical, she was complaining about how her’s hurt her feet and he just took off his boots which were a little bigger, and they traded.
We got to hike through a beautiful jungle and eat lunch next to an amazing waterfall. We also managed for the most part to steer clear of the largest groups of colegio kids and enjoy some of the beauty of nature and its tranquility. We then hiked back down the mountain in enough time to have an ice cold beer at the only restaurant in town and hop the bus back to Cantarranas. I also got to have an intersting conversation with two colegio girls next to me on the bus ride home. One of the girls asked if I was married, to which I jokingly responded that at 22 I was too young to be married, to my surprise the other one who was 18 turned out to be married and already have a 3 year old child. This was pretty telling of the state of things in the country, and it struck me how someone much younger than me could be in a much more mature period of her life.
