Tegucigalpa airport is in the center of a bustling metropolis. I can see a 2 story movie theater, the mall and every North American fast food offering I can think of through the musty windows of the airport. As I step from the confines of the man-made, the blue and white stripes of the Honduran flag flutter jauntily in the warm breezes that embrace us outside.
We are welcomed by the sparkling smiles of our hosts, Eva, Tony and David who greet us like family.
The bus ride to our hotel winds us through the surrounding, steep hills whose beauty is obscured by buildings in all states of repair. The chaotic abandon of the tangled masses of power lines overhead distracts from the once lovely and colorful bougainvilleas. We pass construction workers balancing on questionable looking scaffolding, building unnaturally steep inclines. Scattered palm trees, mysterious latticed windows and the whisper of beautiful gated verandas pass us as we drive the short distance to our week’s home. Inside it is clean and comfortable and promises rest for our weariness.
Honduras, here we are.
Tripping with God: Stories of Faith and Inspiration 