Coup in Honduras

O.k. y'all. There's been a coup in Honduras. You should have heard from the international press by now. I was in Iriona, Departamento de Colon (La Mosquitia... you know... the Mosquito Coast?) doing a pilot study for my PhD when it happened. I had to be crafty upon my return to La Ceiba... let's just put it that way.... My feeling is that everything is going to be fine. This is a different era of Latin American coup-making. These aren't the 1970's. If you are curious for details about our opinions, please contact us!

Earthquakes, flooding, coup. Wow, what an exciting country! (There are lots of cool things happening in between the crazy stuff, too!)

La Ceiba Earthquake!!!!

O.k. I'm new at the blogging thing, and a little flaky. But this story is worth telling. So, I'm in Honduras doing my PhD in disaster risk to hurricanes. All day long, I think about the things that make people vulnerable to massive Atlantic tropical storms. But last night at 3:24 I was thrown a curve ball: a massive 7.1 earthquake.

I had just gotten up to go to the bathroom, and was back in bed settling into sleep again. Suddenly, the bed starts bouncing. The Persian windows start rattling furiously. And the low, ominous rumbling begins. Two thoughts race into my head. As a Californian, I know a little bit about earthquakes. You take cover in doorways or in open areas outside. As a risk researcher in Latin America, I know that the favoured construction methods (cinderblock and cement) aren't very resilient to impacts. (In 2001 I had experienced an earthquake in Peru that had left extensive and acute damage.) These two ideas produce a miniature panic attack.

Our computer table is swaying. I pull Desirae out of bed - she still doesn't know what's going on - and start the panicky push toward the front door. Desi had dead-bolted the door and hidden the key. The ground beneath us is bouncing. Desi, still in the fog of sleep, is fumbling with the keys, while I, shot through with adrenaline, prepare myself to kick down the front door. Desi opens the door about the time the shaking stops. We walk out side on the balcony, and the city's power blinks. A huge blue flash comes from the direction of the city centre, then the power comes back on.

As we waited for aftershocks on the balcony, my initial thought was that somewhere, surely, loads and loads of people had been affected, injured and killed. Our internet was down, so I was unable to check the USGS website for seismic activity. Warily, we went back to sleep. A few hours later, a small tremor woke me up again.

At 8:00 a.m. reports about the damage come in. To my surprise, this huge earthquake left only minor human casualties. (As of 12 hours beyond the event, 5 deaths have been reported across the entire country.) I am a hurricane specialist, so I have to admit, I know very little about patterns of impact with respect to earthquakes, but I am shocked that Honduras has been so resilient. The cosmic irony in all of this is that I'm here studying massive hurricanes and along comes a massive earthquake.

Even rockstars get nervous before a show. Especially if they haven't practiced.

I hadn't even held a guitar in my hands for more than a year, much less a bass guitar. Until last night. But last night I became a cover-band bass-playing rockstar. This week the Catholic countries of the world are celebrating Semana Santa, Crucifixion Week. Here in La Ceiba, the ceibeños commemorate Jesus's legal entanglements by maximising 1) their skin's exposure to the sun and 2) their liver's exposure to beer (what could be more logical?). I got swept up in the religious fervor with an invitation to accompany singer/guitarist Jason, the General, on the bass at El Bar Expatriados. We played to a full house with covers of Beck, Wilco, Pixies, OutKast, Weezer, Beatles, Modest Mouse, etc. It should come as no surprise that we got the most mileage out of "Faith" by George Michael... (Faith -> Semana Santa -> Jesus...?) I made 50 bucks for two hours of rock: way more than I ever earned in 3 years with my college band, the Player Piano. Our two biggest groupies were two little Honduran girls in princess dresses and tiaras doing the chicken dance. We play again on Thursday. (I'll post pictures.)

When it rains, it pours!

We've now been in La Ceiba for over a month, but today marks the first day we've had any rain worth mentioning. Here, you never really know your neighborhood until after you've experienced a rainstorm. When it rains, you learn what streets flood - my experience is that most do - but that is putting it simply.

There are various classifications I make for "flooding". Class I: the type of flooding that you tiptoe through, hoping the water won't reach past the soles of your shoes (usually lasts the first 5 minutes of the storm.) Class II: at this point, you can either giving up on the idea of shoes, put on flip flops, roll up your pants and hike, or find a pair of knee high galoshes. Class III: all the world is a wading pool - although not the kind you want to be swimming in. Class IV: it is now questionable whether the street is passable for cars and walkers should be prepared to battle waves. Class V+ are not uncommon, but if things get to this point I usually just stay put until things dry out (could be 10 minutes, could be a day.)

Our neighborhood floods. From our balcony, we watched the waves roll up and down the street. The rain is one reason I enjoy living on the second floor - it has a kind of Noah's ark effect, minus the crowds (only animal found on our ark today was a thumb sized gecko - very cute by the way.) No rainbows either. Hope that isn’t a bad sign...

Also, based on today's experience, it looks as though during any given rainstorm, we will have the pleasure of an indoor waterfall cascading down our wall. Kind of pretty when wet, but looks more like urine stains once dried.

All in all it was a good day. The rain has cooled down the temperature a good 15-20 degrees, which comes as a much appreciated relief and David didn’t have to water the plants.