Day 159

500 Words, Day 159.

Streets. Roads. Cars. People in pieces of metal speeding along the highway during the early morning hours in a small country at the center of the American continent. I block out the noise as I put on my earphones and walk, and I watch and observe as the day begins. Grey pavement and grey skies greet the morning movement before the bright sunshine and the infernal heat which is sure to arrive at any minute. This is the city of San Pedro Sula, Honduras, the country’s industrial capital. I was born in Honduras, in the actual capital city of Tegucigalpa. Both cities have some of the highest crime rates in the world, as drug dealers and organized gangs run the country, in cahoots with corrupt politicians and the police. But this is my country and every few years I come back to visit from Canada. My parents moved to Vancouver when I was ten years old, after having lived in Honduras all my life. My father had to leave behind a great career which he enjoyed, due to complicated reasons which I won’t get into. There was no way he could remain in Honduras and risk the life of his wife and three children, of which I’m the eldest. There is no man like my father. A hero in every sense of the word, to me, is someone who is willing to sacrifice his or herself for the wellbeing of others. My dad would never think twice before sacrificing anything for me and my brothers. Leaving everything that he had built in Honduras behind, we left to Canada where I vowed I would never watch TV again, as it would be in English. I felt that I was being punished, having to leave my school and my friends behind. Little did I know how well I would adapt to Canadian culture. So, you might be wondering why I, as a Canadian citizen, am back in Honduras, being that my father left so much behind to get me out of here. Well, for one, I do love the heat. The cold Canadian weather and rainy days get old after enough time. Well, it’s a crazy contrast between these two countries and culture, between its people and customs. Apart from the danger of living in such a country, I really wish a lot of people in more developed Western countries would greatly benefit from spending some time in the rich vibrant culture. The food, the way people talk loudly at every street corner, kids flying past in bikes, just like the cars and motorcycles. It’s truly different and unique, although at times it can even get exhausting, to be quite honest. Either way, I would encourage anyone who is brave enough to visit to do so, at least for a week or two. You can usually get by without any issues if you avoid being flashy and getting involved with drugs or gangs. Anyway, I think everyone could benefit from experiencing any foreign culture if they haven’t yet been exposed to any, whether it’s Latino culture or any other. Different cultures are what make our planet rich and interesting.