British Invasion

Written 9/9/08

Last weekend Honduras played Canada in football. Earlier in the day I had gone to the town center to run a few errands and stopped by the tourist information booth. Fellow gringo and Peace Corps volunteer, Kate works there on the weekend. She was really nice- from Minnesota and living here with her husband.

Side note: I love the idea of doing something like this with your husband. Abby met this couple in a hostel in Guatemala who had graduated college in 2007, worked really hard for a year, saved up $10,000 each and are now traveling the whole world for a year. Ummm…yes please!

So Kate let me know about the Canada vs. Honduras game, as if everyone wearing their blue and white jerseys around town didn’t give it away. The roomies and I decided to venture to Zots to watch, eat, drink and be merry. After walking one block down our street Abby says, “Hey, look! Some backpackers!” I look across the street and see what was soon to become our entertainment for the night. Enter David and Adam, two Brits who decided to travel C.A. on a whim after working at a summer camp in West Virginia. Don’t worry; we for sure gave them crap about choosing West Virginia as their representation of the United States. No Spanish, no map, and NO SHAME. That basically sums up these two wankahs. When we met them they had just fled their hotel after the manager tried to rip them off. Naturally, we took them in. If it weren't for us they'd probably be doing what they did all throughout El Salvador. Standing in the middle of the street holding up a map and saying "Astido Pedido! Astido Pedido!" When I asked them what the heck they were talking about, they said- "I'm lost! I'm lost!" Riiight. "Estoy Perdido." Tomato, Tomato. They were obviously so grateful and definitely repaid us via a very fun and memorable evening. We took them to the only 3 hot spots we knew of in Santa Rosa. The first two were fairly tame, but the third (the karaoke bar, of course) was a scene out of a Honduran telenovela.

Adam instructing David on "the put down of beer." Every time David put his down, foam rose to the top, thus Adam's advice, "You've got to be gentle on the put down! You're too aggressive mate!" Do it in a British accent- it's better that way.

Their hilarious and crazy stories were endless. Just to give you an idea of what these guys were like- David has a tatoo of a question mark with his nipple as the dot. Clearly, a picture was necessary.

This was the first time we had been to this bar without a Honduran (Cid) in tow. Hence, the following scene. Where do I even begin? When we first sat down at this very Honduran, very working class bar, a drunken man speaking drunken Spanish came up to our table and started talking to Abby. Being amused by a drunk lasts about the same amount of time here as it does in the states. Approximately 1 minute, if the drunk is lucky. Trying to ignore him, we began to order drinks and pick songs. (Do I even have to tell you that we sang My Heart Will Go On? How could it NOT happen?) Minutes after Drunkie started talking to us he begins to get harassed by Drunkette. Drunkette was a plumper woman with thick, dark eye liner who has seen better days I'd say. We weren’t sure if Drunkette was with Drunkie or if she was just trying to protect us, but she sure as hell was giving him grief for talking to us. And by grief I mean arguing with, yelling at, and hitting him.

Enter the chivalry. To our “rescue” come several Honduran men. Their first statement: “You are very pretty for me.” Next statement: “You want to dance?” Final comment: “Is he bothering you?” Oh yeah, right out of a fairy tale. We didn’t want any trouble and we didn’t want to dance, so we just said thank you and let our Drunken friend stay. Well, the owner and guards would have no part of that. Yes, guards. With guns. The owner and guards came over and not only told Drunkie to get out of our hair but had us move tables. Only one table over mind you, but I’m sure it made a ton of difference. Somewhere in this shuffle enters Grande Hombre. This huge guy suddenly was sitting at our table, telling us they were honored to have us at the bar, and having multiple conversations in Spanish with Adam who didn’t even know how to say “comida” or “agua” let alone have an entire dialogue about who knows what. Several other events happened in the evening such as random men asking to take a picture with me. One was on David’s camera…which made perfect sense because obvi David and the random Honduran are going to be fb buddies ASAP and comment on all of each other's pics! Also, Drunkette asked Abby to buy her a beer...huh? Arm wreslting occurred between Drunkie and Grande Hombre. That match ended quickly. Drunkette appeared yet again when David and I went over to the dance floor for a cancion or two and saw her making out with a man half her size. Precious.


It is ever so unfortunate that I left my camera at home for the karaoke excursion because let me tell you, a picture in this case would certainly be worth a thousand words. Considering the last few times we have been to karaoke there have only been 3 other people there, this was indeed an exciting night. We came back home and brought the guys up to our roof to hang out a bit more. I have decided that the next stop on Sarah’s World Tour may have to be England. Most people know I love an English accent and break one out quite a lot. But pray let me tell you, their sense of humor is brilliant. I was told that Hondurans don’t do sarcasm, which is total bullocks considering I use it daily, and by daily I mean hourly. But the Brits! They are the kings of sarcasm! They use it loads and I loved talking with them. Forget this Latin America rubbish; time to start looking for jobs in London…