Many would wonder why it is that I choose to make my life in Honduras. A nation wrongly and unacceptably famed as a “murder capital of the world” (where I personally have never even seen a catfight), a poverty-stricken, corrupt hell-hole with nothing good to offer and no future.
Nonsense. Complete and utter nonsense.
This is the home of ancient Mayan ruins, colorful macaws, desert islands, Caribbean and Pacific beaches, scrumptious cuisine, striking women and noble hearted people. The list of positives goes on…
Now, if I were to be posed with a question such as: “could you provide just one reason as to why you love Honduras so much?”, I would respond as such:
To go into further explanation, I shall put it like this.
I know full well, that whenever I find myself in a bad situation, if finances are low, if life throws something at me, I can and always will be able to count on my Hondurans.
They are my only true friends. It is only the Honduran that I can actually refer to as mi amigo. That is, in the full sense of the word. Nobody else comes even close. Yes, others from other nationalities have assisted me in the past yet nobody else has done so with the same consistency nor willpower as have the Hondurans.
This COVID situation, which has ruined an awful lot, from taking away people’s lives to wrecking one’s work and subsequently one’s finances, has served as a fine example of how Hondurans are always at the ready to assist and throw a helping hand out there to he or she whom they believe is worthy of it.
Only in Honduras, can I obtain all that I need in a day without parting with a cent.
The old lady at la pulperia (corner shop) lets me grab a bag of coffee – to pay her back the next day.
Javier, my gym trainer, fills me up a liter bottle of water and places it in a bag with fresh oranges when I message him mentioning that I’ve run out of water.
Arnon, my next-door neighbor, always cuts my hair for free spending hours carefully ‘fading’ the back and sides, trimming and aligning the beard – stating “I got you bro, I do this because I want to”.
Ruth, a local mother of three who sells home cooked food, sends me whatever I desire for lunch and dinner including when I’ve no money at all if awaiting a payment or something – and says: “no problem young man, pick the dish you want”.
Edward, my best friend, is always at the ready to assist with anything imaginable. He once let me stay in his one-bedroom studio for six months where I slept on his couch. If I’m without food – he cooks and gives, if I’m without money – he lends, if in need of a job – he finds me one, Edward does whatever it is that he is humanely able to do. Not just for me, but for anyone.
Luis, a businessman on the corner, asks me if I’ve eaten on passing him by, to which he offers Chinese takeaway and all the soda one could picture.
Suyapa, who works in local political circles, busies herself in running errands and getting paperwork together for my foreigner’s permit. She doesn’t charge a cent. Suyapa simply said: “I told you I’d help you.”
A random fellow on the street – a complete stranger, physically walks me four blocks from where he was stood minding his own business, to show me where they sell a football shirt that he was wearing. I’d approached him and asked: “where did you get that?”
“Follow me white man, it’s close”.
There appear to be no limits for the Honduran when it comes to helping out. Who on earth would give me free food and walk me four blocks out of their way in England – my country? Not a soul that I can think of.
In turn, I do my best to reciprocate and give back. I keep my word. I assist who I can, I give, I provide. Hondurans like to say: “el que da, recibe lo doble”. “He who gives, receives double”.
They will give you the shirt of their backs, they’ll take the floor and give up their bed. Never, have I met a people so noble and caring as the Hondurans. I wonder whether or not there exists another nationality with such a high ratio of helping, kindhearted individuals.
They may not be the richest economically, yet the Hondurans ladies and gentlemen, are light years ahead of Europe for instance, when it comes to brotherly love and kindness.
The rest of the world could learn an awful lot from this nation. An awful lot.
I hope one day, to do great things for my beloved Honduras.
By Ben Anson.