I wait at the corner of Puente Saopin staring up a long dirt road. I have made it safely out of Tegucigalpa and have spent a relaxing evening in the town of La Ceiba. I am now about to hitchhike to my new home in the mountains of the Cangrejal Valley.
This is my first experience of hitchhiking and I am relying on the expert advice of Scott and Elly; two fellow Guaruma volunteers and seasoned hitchhikers. A pickup truck pulls up, my foot goes on the top of the wheel and with a clumsy stumble I bundle into the flat bed. Scott and Elly stand up and take the wind in their hair. I cower in the corner clinging to the sides for dear life, attracting many strange looks from the locals. Balance is not my strong point
After ten minutes and countless bumps along a potholed track I realise I am entering a completely different world. We drive through lush green forests, slowing down occasionally for the trickle of a waterfall across the road. I fall out of the back of pick up at GUARUMA in Las Mangas. I am immediately stunned. The place is amazing. I feel, for the first time since arriving in this strange country, that I have made the right choice.
Two students arrive to take me hiking on the GUARUMA trail. I say little and understand even less of what they say to me. As we pass over the bridge at the end of the tiny village we see another boy jumping from the highest rock I have ever seen into the white waters below.
“How long until you do that? They ask me in Spanish. ¨Give me two weeks¨ I reply. They grin. ¨In two weeks¨ they say, ¨you´ll be Honduran.¨
I smile and laugh…no way I think.