There appears to be no rhyme or reason to how long you have to wait to get a cab in Honduras. I have left the house at 7am, found a queue of forty people and been in my class at 8.15, I have also left at 7.10 to a queue of four and not made it until 8.45.
This appears to be transport in Honduras, and I suppose, Honduras generally. At first I hated it. It was just one more thing I couldn’t predict, measure, understand or relate to.
However, I noticed this morning that I haven’t worn my watch for three days. I seem to be relinquishing my rather English obsession with timeliness. I think I’ve realized that the trick is just to kick back and go with it. It feels nice.