I know I haven't posted for awhile - but I am still alive and kicking here in Hondu.
One of the things my site is famous for is its caves. Right outside the town on the main highway, there's an entrance with lights, and I think walkways. I haven't been. But up in the mountains there are unmarked entrances as well. One of the reasons they're famous is because (apparently) so many people have gotten lost in them. My guide book encourages adventurers to be careful and consider hiring a guide at the main entrance. One of my Honduran friends offered to take me the back way, and of course, I took him up on the offer. He and his friend (we'll call him Oscar...All Hondurans have at least four names. When you ask their name, they will tell you all four of them, but won't tell you what they go by, often a different nickname. One of his names was Oscar, but that's not what Alan was calling him. However, I could never catch exactly what he was actually calling him) had been before, and assured me they knew the caves well. I should have suspected something, I suppose, when they couldn't even remember how to get to the entrance.
After finally getting there, and probably about an hour of caving, we reached a large, spectacular cavern with no easy way to continue, rested for another hour or so enjoying the complete darkness, and decided to head back. And promptly got lost.
(Honduras is spectacularly rich in natural beauty. And Hondurans take very little notice of it. In the US, you would never find a cave like this without lights, walkways, and big signs telling you not to touch the rock formations. Here, Alan decided he wanted to climb one of the formations – and did so. Made for a much more exciting (also, free!) experience for us, and once you learn to ignore the occasional discarded food wrappers... Well, it's incredible. But it also means that so many people will miss out on its beauty. It's a dilemma.)
I think the caves diverged and then by some stroke of luck, re-converged later. We definitely did not come and go by the same path, but miraculously got out to the same entrance. Oscar was serving as our guide and several times had to go on ahead to scope out paths. I, of course, hadn't been paying special attention to our route, because I had come with two guys who knew what they were doing, right? We did eventually get out, obviously. Ah, the joy of seeing outside light after hours of only the weak light of two puny flashlights. I came out covered in mud and bat droppings (doing laundry was fun), a huge bruise on my leg and several scratches all over (what d'ya know – one of the disadvantages of not having lighted, safety-railing-ed walkways is that you have to navigate over loose, slippery, muddy rocks around bottomless abysses), but alive to tell the story, and with some good pics of Alan climbing a stalagmite (I'll upload someday).
Oh, and after we got out, Alan insisted that he knew the way to a great lookout spot. Ha. And I still hadn't learned. At least then we were outside and could see where we were walking. And when we were still out there when it got dark, we already had flashlights on us from exploring the cave :)
But it was totally worth it. PS, who wants to visit me? I'm a total caving expert by now :)
And now for your Spanish lesson:
cabello – hair
caballo – horse
If, for some strange inexplicable reason, you happen to mix up these two words, any sane Spanish speaker (or host sister) will be doubled over with laughter for at least five minutes. Just a warning.
