Lago de Yojoa

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of traveling to Lago de Yojoa with my fellow teachers. This lake (lago), as previously stated, is the lake in Honduras, the only one, in fact, to be of volcanic origins in Honduras. Here, the ancestors of the Lencas, one of Honduras' still-living native peoples, lived and thrived. Apparently, archeologists now think that 2,800 years ago, Los naranjos was an ancient city that preceded Jesus Christ and even Honduras' largest ancient city, Copan, by 1,000 years. 

Here in 2012, however, the serene body of water is now a major tourist attraction, although, it doesn't feel very "touristy." Lago affords many different lodging options, including a brewery tucked right into the lush forest. We opted to stay in some beautiful cabins very near to the water. Unfortunately, we only stayed one night, but the short duration of my stay definitely makes me want to go back.

The bridge near the cabins/resort area.

This cabin was right on the water, complete with an enticing hammock. 






The bridge was a bit rickety. 



But Marisha and I stood our ground. 



Look who I found! (This was most definitely not staged). 

 Bridge-sittin'.

*WARNING*

OVERABUNDANCE OF SCENIC PICTURES

 THAT MAY OR MAY NOT DEPICT 

MORE OR LESS THE SAME SCENERY

BUT AT DIFFERENT CAMERA ANGLES

See those different colored patches of land on the mountains? It amazes me how Hondurans somehow farm the seemingly un-farm-able.

I experimented with color a bit. 

  

  

This reminded me of my dear sister, Elizabeth, and made me miss her at the same time. 

For Michigan people, we got awfully excited about seeing fish in a lake. 

These rocks enjoy a spectacular view. 

Broken meets beautiful. 

Love birds.

Broken meets beautiful.

This is part of a palm tree, but, call me silly, I don't know what kind of fruit this is. The most appropriate name I could find on Google? "Palm fruit."

Wedding reception. Not too shabby. 

Young palm fruit. 

Can't decide whether this depicts feminism or chauvinism. Mark looks pretty smug.

Taking a well-deserved break. Some of our group went horseback riding. I did not. 

   1. Most Honduran horses make me look like a giantess. 

             (Especially when they pant and snort as if I'm too much work. Makes a lady feel special [and guilty]). 

   2. I assume the horses were trained by 15 year old boys. Reassuring.

In the words of Ace Ventura, "This is a lovely room of death." It was, in actuality, very lovely. 

A room with a view.  

"Love scenes prohibited." Boring!

This tree was irresistibly climb-able.  

Head towards the light. 

Indecent.

Broken meets beautiful.  

After we checked out of our lodgings, we headed to a ginormous waterfall (like you do). 

The bridge over the river.  

Picnic!

Heading to the falls. 

The waterfall emits a constant mist. 

One can venture under the falls and into a cave beyond. I opted out of this little adventure. To be honest, I wasn't in the mood for the moderately dangerous. Plus, I heard horror stories about the experience, along with comments like, "I feared for my life" and "It was really painful." At the very least, I feared losing half my hair under the tens of thousands of gallons of falling water and teaching high school students half-bald. 

You can see the few brave souls who dared their hair on the bottom left-ish of this picture. 

Keri's diving in. 

Anna is embracing the thrill.  

In the pool.

How scary-cool does this look? 

Everyone who entered the falls returned from them just fine. If I ever have a chance to go back to Lago, into the waterfall I will go. However, I feel satisfied just in having pictures of someone else doing all the hard work. 

And now, some pictures from the long ride home. 

I tried to go all "artsy" on these. 

I hope no one reading this has epileptic tendencies. 

Overall, the trip to Lago was short but sweet. I'm excited to see if the opportunity to return presents itself. 

This week, however, proved long and exhausting. This year, in general, has been more of a struggle than last year, but I am discovering that many of my students are dealing with some very real, painful situations. Last week, we discussed secrets in my class. One student shared that a family member had been kidnapped last summer. Another student explained that after receiving threat from a gang, her father told her he was going to hire a personal bodyguard for her. Unfortunately, kidnappings for ransom and tributes to gangs are a normal part of life in Honduras. Other students (and not just in my classes) have talked to me about split parents, abuse in the home, neglect, dire responsibilities, poverty, terror, and depression. Teaching is an emotional journal to begin with, but my heart breaks for these young people who are unfairly forced to take too much onto their plate.

Yesterday morning, an IST fifth grader name Misty was kidnapped straight out of her mother's arms. Apparently, her family owns a Chinese restaurant and it's assumed that the kidnappers believe the family can give them a large sum of money. From what I understand, the kidnappers were offered 500.000 lempiras ($25,000) and Misty was supposed to be dropped off at a certain location yesterday evening. The family was waiting, but somehow Misty is still in the care of her kidnappers tonight. Prayer (or positive thoughts, if you're not big on prayer) would be appreciated. I do not know Misty personally, but I know her teachers and others who love her. I hope Misty knows tonight that we're all praying and hoping for her safe return! 

All my best and a thousand hugs from Honduras, 

Julie