My First Week In Utila

Although I was exhausted from traveling the entire previous day, I was up before the sun rose on my first full day in Utila.  After unpacking my luggage, I showered, dressed, and Monice and I started out on our first walk to town.  It was early yet, and not too hot. 

Jan had told us the night before which stores were the best for price, fresh produce, delicious meals, the best coffee.  We stopped at a bakery(above)...with a very unusual name...that she had recommended for excellent coffee and bacon-broccoli quiche.  She was spot-on with her assessment.  The meal cost $3.50.

At 10:00 AM, Jan picked us up in her golf cart and drove us, first, to the bank, where two armed guards checked our bags prior to knocking on the window, signaling the guard inside to unlock the door and let us in.  Crime is minimal in Utila...occasionally someone has a laptop stolen...but Honduras is a poor country and having armed guards in front of the bank acts as a deterrent.  Monice and I both exchanged our U.S. dollars for lempiras (or lemps, as the locals call them).  The U.S. dollars are accepted everywhere, but the exchange rate varies by store, so it's the better deal to do it at the bank.

We were gone all day, as Jan drove us over almost every inch of the island.  We visited many shops, with Jan introducing me to everyone.  Chris, an American from Oregon, owns a book/video store.  They can be bought, rented or swapped, and the rental fee is twenty lemps per week, or one U.S. dollar. 

Chepes Beach was a favorite spot during our tour.  It's a beautiful vista of blue/green water and white sand, without a speck of litter seen anywhere, and no seaweed washed onto the shore.  I'm not sure if the lack of seaweed has to do with the warm water, or if there's another reason.  Palms and coconuts sprinkled the beach, and a lovely bar/restaurant, The Driftwood, was where we enjoyed seafood for lunch and margaritas to cool us off.

Jan showed us both of her homes.  The first one she built is for sale, a one-room all-inclusive beach cottage with gazebo and plenty of land to build a larger home or add on to the existing one.  Her new house is across the street, much larger with two stories and a huge deck off the bedroom which overlooks the bay.  The house operates on solar power, so the lucky lady is not affected by storms and power outages.

The flora and fauna are magnificent on the island.  Hibiscus bloom everywhere, along with many varieties I've never seen.  The colors are brilliant and, thanks to tropical rains which blow in and out in record time, everything is lush and green.  The island is littered with tiny hermit crabs (see below) and larger crabs with one gigantic claw which makes them look off-balance.  Tiny geckos are scattered everywhere.  They frequently visit in my apartment and, sadly, I accidentally smooshed my first visitor in the window.  Larger iguanas, called wishie willies by the locals, also can be seen crossing the road or scaling the side of a building or wall.

The days flew quickly.  We walked into town twice a day....once in the morning for breakfast or coffee and maybe a little shopping, and again in the late afternoon for dinner and pictures of the sunset.  We found a wonderful place for coffee that just opened recently, and it's not very far from my apartment...maybe a 10-minute walk.  Rio Coco Beans is owned by Michael & Laura Bagby, missionaries who came to Honduras to help the Miskito Indian refugees who fled to Honduras from Nicaragua during the war.  The cafe is staffed by volunteers, including two of their daughters, Arielle and Moselle, and their profits go towards helping the schools.

There are many things on the island that are quite different from the life I left behind in the states.  The locals do whatever they can to make money.  They don't beg or pester the tourists for money or services, but sprinkled here and there throughout the streets of town are tables or lean-to's with everything from mangoes to baked goods to hand-crafted jewelry for sale. 

Some locals find very unique ways to earn money, such as the master craftsman who builds coffins fashioned as coffee tables.  Although slightly macabre, they are a hot commodity here on the island. Locals and tourists alike buy them for their dual purposes: a useful piece of furniture while they live, and a resting place after death.

A final day on Utila for my daughter was spent mostly at the various beaches.  She collected rocks, shells and pieces of coral for her son, even finding some larger pieces for me to decorate my apartment.  I was sad at the thought of her leaving, and I felt strangely vulnerable at being left alone to experience life on Utila.  "This is what you wanted, Carolyn", I reminded myself.  "You can do this."

  

On the morning she left, I cried and held tight to her.  I didn't wait for the ferry to leave.  That would be prolonging the agony.  Instead I returned home to my cute little apartment, intent on scrubbing, cleaning and organizing...both to keep my mind busy and to also make the place my own.  It will be a mental adjustment, but I will make Utila my home.  I will find my purpose here.

 

Finally: Home to Utila!

I can't believe I've been here one week today. August is the hottest month in Utila, and I've taken to wearing not-so-charming sweatbands on my head to keep the sweat out of my eyes. Mid-day the sun bakes into every pore, so it's good to be out and about earlier or later in the day. That said, I'm loving it here!

My daughter made the trip with me and spent five wonderful days here as I became acclimated to the island. I should have been blogging each of those days, regaling you all with the wonders and mysteries of Utila, but I hesitated being rude to my daughter, since we will not be seeing much of one another in times to come.

Travel to Utila went fairly well. We flew Delta from Milwaukee, changed in Atlanta, and arrived in San Pedro Sula, Honduras on time and with no difficulties. I was made to buy a return ticket to the states: apparently Honduras wants you to leave in three months. However, I intend to apply for residency, so an extremely helpful Delta employee helped me buy a refundable ticket back to the states. It was a very expensive ticket, hence the refundable factor.

Arrival in Honduras was a little bit of a culture shock. The airport was not as efficient or high-tech as in the states. There was a long line to get through customs, but an airport official kept scanning the lines and picked out the elderly, disabled, women with small children and, I believe, a few beautiful women to move to the fast exit line.

Our driver, Ralph, was waiting for us with his "taxi": a Kia pickup. Driving in Honduras is a real challenge. They drive on either side of the road...lines mean nothing...and while Ralph got us to the ferry in La Ceiba safely, there were times when I just closed my eyes and prayed.

The trip from San Pedro Sula to La Ceiba took over two hours. We stopped at a nice restaurant where we had an excellent buffet-style meal, although the restrooms left lots to be desired. The poverty of Honduras was evident throughout the drive. Many homes were little more than shacks. Surprisingly, the more affluent, well-maintained homes were built right next to the ramshackle residences with month's worth of trash strewn about. People mostly walked or rode bicycles. Dogs roamed the streets, their prominent rib cages giving them a skeletal look. Horses...overloaded with bundles of sticks or fruit from the African Palm, which is processed to make palm oil...looked emaciated and sickly.

We just made the ferry on time. Ralph took care of checking our luggage, while I bought tickets to the island. The water was calm and the almost-one-hour trip, uneventful. I felt a sense of euphoria as I disembarked the Utila Princess. I had really done it! Jan was waiting for us with her golf cart, and she drove us first to the grocery store, and then to the Sandstone Apts.: my new home. Victor, the caretaker, speaks only Spanish, and Jan, Monice and I speak only English, so a lot of pseudo-sign language took place.

After being up for the past 16 hours, and travelling for 12 of those, we were too tired to unpack all but what was needed for sleeping. Also too tired to prepare a meal, we had bought a bag of nachos and some cheese sauce along with two bottles of wine at the store. I unpacked the "Life's a Beach" wine glass, and we retired to the deck outside with our treats. We toasted my new life as we listened to the sound of the surf.

Final Preparations

It was a whirlwind final week in the states. If I'm totally honest, I was worried that I wouldn't get everything finished in time. But then, this move has been "charmed" since the very beginning and two things worked to my advantage.

First of all, I was scheduled to work on Tues. and Wed., which would have really added to the time crunch. However, at the last minute I was told I would be unable to drive the school bus because my federal medical card had expired the previous week...a two-day bonus!

Secondly, I was informed by the apartment manager that I was not required to shampoo the carpets...a chore for which I had set aside an entire day. Lucky, lucky me!

Still, it was a week packed with so many last-minute details. My driver's license was about to expire, so I had to get to the DMV to renew. Sure that it would be a long wait, I was surprised that it took just over a half hour to accomplish.

The mattress, which my son had loaned me after the sale of my bed, needed to be returned, and although I had been able to slide it down the stairs on it's side, I knew it needed to be carried out to the car...something I would be unable to do alone. Good friend, Orton, came home with me after meeting me for a final cup of coffee at Victor Allen's. Between the two of us, we managed to get it in the Prius. I returned Orton to his pickup and the mattress to my son.

Packing: we've all had to do it, and it isn't much fun! Two suitcases to check, one to carry on, and a tote bag complete with laptop. With today's restrictions, I had to carefully choose what to put in which bag. When finished, I worried that the two bags to be checked were overweight! Well, that would have to wait until I got to my daughter's house, where there would be a scale available. Turns out I was worried for nothing!

Cleaning: oven, stovetop, fan, cupboards, pantry shelves, bathroom, vacuuming, scrubbing floors (my knees complained long and loud...yes, I got down on all fours to give it a thorough scrubbing!). I made so many trips down two flights to the dumpsters that I lost count. You could have eaten off any surface in that apartment by the time I was done!

Returned my Prius to the car dealership. One signature, hand over the keys, done! I am a key-less person now...no car, no home, no more putting up with bad drivers on the road. I'm not sure if people have to lock their homes on Utila or not, but I do know there will be no cars and no bad drivers. There's bound to be a downside, but for one more day I can pretend Utila will be a paradise...the perfect Eden.

The goodbyes have been numerous, emotional, and even painful. Many friends and coworkers hugged and cried with me. Even my boss teared up, and we've only known one another for this past school year. My daughter, Monice, gave me a killer farewell party, complete with hanging lanterns, palm trees and reggae music. Even though it rained off and on, most of the time the sun shone and friends and family ate, drank, and shared stories and a few good laughs.

Today...which is also my 65th birthday...I said my goodbyes to son, Jamie, his wife, Aimee, and my three-month-old granddaughter, Ruby. They took me out for breakfast for my birthday, we visited and took pictures, then parted tearfully. My heart was breaking as I watched them drive away. They are thinking of visiting in March of 2012...before Ruby is walking and can sit on their laps on the plane, and while winter snowstorms are still wreaking havoc in frigid Wisconsin...which isn't too far off.

Now it's off for an early bedtime, since we must leave for the airport at the unholy hour of 2 AM. Look for the first photos of Utila on Tues., Aug. 23, along with a story or two about our travel. So long Wisconsin, and goodbye to the US of A!

Almost There!

It's hard to wrap my mind around literally "being" in Utila just two weeks from tomorrow. My entire life for the past six months has been "planning" this move. It will seem strange, I believe, to enter a different phase of this monumental change.

The last couple of weeks have been extremely busy. I saw my primary care physician for a physical, ECG and blood work. She was very thorough, and gave me a folder with copies of pertinent health care records to bring with me. I also had my annual mammogram. My doctor laughed when I told her that the American doctor on Utila is rather unconventional...apparently never wears shoes, even when seeing patients!

I've had some tearful goodbyes already with people I don't see that often. Today was my last day driving the senior citizens to church on the bus. They gave me a lovely card, and as an added bonus I shared some of Al's birthday cake at St. Luke's...yesterday he turned 100! Everyone wished me good luck and safe travels. They are such lovely people, and I will miss them.

I met my friend, Audrey, when she was a resident and I was the office manager at The Carolina Apartments. She has lupus and deals with a lot of pain and fatigue. She's had numerous falls, which have necessitated hospital and nursing home stays. Early on I offered to drive her places, and we occasionally went out for lunch. Each Christmas I would pick her up and drive her around to see the lights and decorations. She was so thankful for each and every kindness, and I loved being able to help her out.

I spent an entire day exploring the many thrift stores in the area for shorts. I've never been one to show off my unglamourous gams, but I think I need to get used to it since I'll be living on an island. I also found a few sleeveless tops...something else I don't normally wear, due to the "bat wings" we older women develop! I'm counting on having a brand new body after several months of walking around that 25-square-mile island!

I also bought a few new bras...the kind with extra "lift". It's that older-woman thing again...everything heads south. These bras were absolutely extraordinary! One is black with tiny white polka dots...one is very fine blue, green and white stripes...the other is leopard print. Even though no one will see them but me, I'm going to feel like a very hot, sexy, old broad!

I stopped at Smart Motors, where I leased my Prius last year, to tell them I would be returning the car on Aug. 19. I was prepared to hear, "You'll have to pay through the nose since you're returning the car early.", and was flabbergasted when they said I wouldn't owe them anything!

I then had the presence of mind to call my insurance agent and tell her to cancel my car insurance on the 20th and cancel my homeowner's insurance immediately, since I no longer have any furniture left.

Yesterday I began to clean out my pantry, cupboards and refrigerator. I threw out a bottle of salad dressing with an expiration date of May, 2009, and flushed partially-filled bottles of rice wine vinegar and sesame oil...which had only been used a few times in the past 5 years...down the drain. There were also numerous items, such as the white balsamic vinegar, which had never been opened, so hopefully someone will buy those for a song or two at my final moving sale on Friday.

Still lots of last-minute details to take care of. The last week will be the busiest. On Sat., the day after the moving sale, my daughter is hosting an "Aloha Party" for me at her home. On Sun. Lou, a friend and co-worker, is coming to pick up the second...and last...dresser from me. I guess I'll be forced to pack then, since I will have no place to keep my clothes. On Mon. St. Vincent de Paul will come with a truck to pick up whatever remnants are left over from the sale. Tues. and Wed. will be my last work days, and Wed. evening is the "Welcome Back" meeting at the Transportation Center. Even though I'm not returning, my boss has said I can attend the meeting in order to say 'goodbye' to my friends and co-workers. On Thurs. I will renew my driver's license at the DOT, but only for cars...no more bus driving. I probably wouldn't even need to renew, since I won't be driving anything anymore, but I figure it can't hurt to have extra ID. While I (probably) will be spending the day at the DOT, the carpet people will come to shampoo the carpets.

I've already done a lot of the cleaning...filled nail holes, used the Magic Eraser on any marks/smudges on the painted walls...but I will have to scrub the bathroom and kitchen. On Fri. morning I have scheduled my apartment checkout. My daughter will help me load her car with my luggage, then follow me to Smart Mothers, where I will leave my car. Then she will bring me to her place for the weekend, and together we will leave for the airport in the middle of the night Sun., for our 6:30 a.m. flight to Honduras. I hope to find the time to blog one more time before I leave...we'll see how things go.

Memories and Memorabilia

On Saturday, July 16, there was a delightful family get-together at daughter Monice's. My sister's daughter, Kim, along with her husband, Kevin, and granddaughter, Kierra, drove down from north-central Wisconsin. Son James and his wife, Aimee, and seven-week old Ruby joined us as well. The plan was for me to hand down some of the Vorland/Richardson memorabilia to the next generation. In addition, we would cook some of my mother's (Ingrid Vorland Richardson) Norwegian recipes, which I had copied for everyone.

The day began and ended with hugs and laughter. Everyone shared memories past of family gatherings at holidays, weddings, funerals, births and graduations. I asked everyone to pitch in and unload my car of the many boxes of family history I had brought with me. I had painstakingly made a box each for Kim, Monice and James...items I knew would strike a chord with them. In Monice's box I included a pink poodle figurine for grandson Zach...a lover of both the color pink and animals of all kinds. Kim's eyes lit up when she garnered Grandma Richardson's antique jewelry box. James and Aimee, connisseurs of good wine, delighted in the wine-bottle Christmas ornament.

Our first meal of the day was Norwegian pancakes...paper-thin and delicate vanilla-infused crepes which were rolled up after being slathered with butter and a generous scoop of sugar. I made three batches, and we probably could have eaten more, but the day was passing quickly.

Comla was next on the list. A dumpling made of finely grated potatoes and stuffed with several cubes of salt pork, they are boiled in water along with the rind and fat of the salt pork for added flavor. They can be eaten right out of the pot, or chilled well, then sliced and fried in butter. We would have them fried later, along with Norwegian meatballs and gravy, fresh green beans and hearty slabs of bakery bread with thick crusts and soft centers. James had brought hard nuts of mace, which we grated and added to the meatballs. Mace is used in many Norwegian recipes, and is what gives a unique and tasty twist to the cooking.

While we waited for the comla to chill in the refrigerator, I had everyone draw numbers. Starting with the person who drew number one, they began to choose from the items that were not designated for anyone in particular. Monice chose Grandma Richardson's wooden salad set first, as I knew she would. There were lots of laughs as Monice would grab three or four items that she wanted when it was her turn, or Kim would sit back in her chair saying, "I'm not even going to bother because Monice will get what I want anyhow." The banter was light and jovial, and everyone seemed very pleased with what they had chosen. The only item no one seemed to want was a pair of brass candlesticks, and I brought them back home with me for my final moving-sale day.

The two grandchildren, Zach and Kierra, were oblivious to the sentiment in the room and amused themselves with Wii Sports. Even they seemed to enjoy the Norwegian food, however, and I was relieved that I was able to pass the recipes along. I hate to see traditions like that die, and I'm thinking that the family will most likely not be coming to Utila for Christmas anytime soon.

I have resigned myself to making new traditions on Utila. The first Christmas away from my family may be a little sad, but I will make the best of it...as will they. We will talk on Skype during the Christmas festivities, and they will show me via the webcam what a terrific job they did making Norwegian Christmas bread. I will, undoubtedly, be sitting in my beach chair drinking mojitos and listening to the waves lap the shore.

Summer Fun

Additional moving-sale days were rather unremarkable and disappointing. However, I was able to read two new books while waiting for my expected buyers. "Game Change", the back story of the 2008 presidential campaign, was both interesting and insightful. "The Mulberry Tree" by Jude Devereaux was filled with romantic intrigue, and I stayed up later than I'd planned in order to finish it.

I had run around town placing half-off flyers everywhere I could the night before the final day of the sale, and spent an additional $10 on a sign to put in front of the apartment building in the hope of luring people in. The one bright spot in the day was when the young neighbor girl...who had already come four times on various sale days...came to buy the antique Weller pottery which had been my mother's. Each time she had been there previously, she had admired the piece, but the $12 price tag was probably too steep for her. Voila! On the last day of the sale it was only $6, and I had a feeling she would be back to get it. I'm so happy that someone who truly loves the piece now owns it.

As I look around my half-empty apartment, I can't help but chuckle. I am without a bed, a microwave, a bedside table, and I fumble around in the half-dark since most of my lamps are gone. But the Christmas decorations are plentiful, as are the varied sizes of storage containers, craft supplies and hand tools. A number of people wanted to buy my toaster, but I had to tell them to return in August. A carb addict, albeit a healthy one since I only eat whole wheat or sprouted grain breads, I simply couldn't deprive myself of toast or an English muffin for breakfast for almost two months.

An unexpected phone call from the Social Security Office relayed wonderful news: not only is my monthly payment going to be almost $200 more than I was initially told back in February, but I will get my first check on August 24...much sooner than I had anticipated. Guess I should prepare myself for being one of the nouveaux riche on Utila!

For the next couple of weeks I will "amuse" myself while sifting through a lifetime of photos and archiving them for the children. I'm sure there are many that I will throw away...all those professional shots of people's feet, chopped off heads and fuzzy faces that we can't seem to part with once they're developed. Then on to purging files, shredding, and compiling necessary information to leave with my son. Sounds like a fun-filled summer, does it not?

Steps and Missteps

I worked so hard all last week in preparation of my first moving sale at my apartment. I never make things easy on myself either. I hate going to sales where people have thrown things in boxes that you have to rummage through, or sales where they've laid out their "treasures" covered in grime, cobwebs and, oftentimes, in pieces. Therefore, I spent hours making sure everything was clean and in good condition, and also took the time to group things on various borrowed card tables.

My Christmas corner was exceptional. It took an entire day to set up my table tree & decorate it, then surround it with all the other holiday items I'd unpacked. Another table showcased all the antique and collectible items handed down from my parents. I checked on the price of one Red Wing vase at the library...was actually surprised when I found a picture of the exact vase in the Red Wing book...and found it to be worth $60!

The day prior to the sale was spent putting sale tags on everything and little SOLD signs on things already purchased by co-workers. I never finished until 11 PM that night, and fell into bed so exhausted that I set my alarm in case I slept so sound as to not get up at the break of dawn.

Before I was able to rest my weary self, I checked the local paper for my ad. Uh oh...not there! Panicked, I called my friend to ask if she would put a hasty ad on Craig's List, online. I don't have Internet access at my home anymore, and my friend had posted on Craig's List in the past so I knew she could do it efficiently. I was concerned that my moving sale was not going to bring many buyers, but fatigue trumped the concern in the end.

I awoke, refreshed, and got down to business...double-checked everything for price tags, readied the cash box, propped the outer door to the apartments open and put signs up where necessary. I didn't have to wait long for my first customer...someone who had seen the Craig's List posting. ' She bought one of the ashtrays my father had comissioned from an artillery shell at the end of WWII. Surprisingly it did not bring on a wave of nostalgia or regret. Perhaps because I had already "made peace" with my father's spirit over this issue.

Later in the day, however, when a friend and co-worker came to pick up the antique deacon's bench she had bought, my voice caught as I thanked her and said goodbye. I was happy that it was going to a friend. I had moved the bench from Massachusetts to Colorado in a small camper when my mother sold her house. It was a labor of love. Many times, as a child, I had pulled tablecloths, hand-crocheted by my maternal grandmother, from the storage seat in the deacon's bench to play dress-up. That one piece of furniture had played a huge part in shaping the child I was and the adult I became. A moment of sadness.

Only five people graced my sale yesterday, and still I made over $200. Tomorrow I will call Madison Newspapers and scold them, then run the ad...again?...for next weekend. Since I've already done all the work, I'll have the sale on Thurs. and Fri. as well as Sat. I can live in a "furniture showroom" for another week or so, I guess.