Seis

        “Honk!”

         “Beep!”

         “¡Ay!” 

           The clamorous street noises of Tegucigalpa reached my unwillingly ears, waking me up with annoyance boiling in my still exhausted body.  I snapped my eyes open only to learn that I was consumed in blackness.  Grunting, I reached for my cell phone that was laying beside me and brought it in front of my face to check the time. It was 5:20.  Man, Tegucigalpa wakes up early, I thought grudgingly.  I grabbed the edges of my pillowcase  and pulled them over my ears in attempt to muffle the noise, however was unsuccessful  at falling back to sleep.  After about 20 minutes of laying in my bed and listening to the boisterousness  of the unfamiliar city,  I slid down from my top bunk, attempting not to wake my roommates who were still in dreamland. I tiptoed to the tiny bathroom where I brushed my teeth using the water from my water bottle as I knew the tap water would be unsafe.  Actually, I was reminded of this the previous night when Maddie caught me bringing a cup full of tap water to my lips.  

           “Remember, this isn’t Canada,” She had said.  “The water here is disgusting, it’s full of parasites and other stuff I don’t even wanna think about.”  I agreed with her words, although I couldn’t help but remember the two small boys we witnessed earlier that day, slumped over the sink and sucking that parasitic tap water as if they hadn’t drank a sip in months.  

              Dropping my blue and purple striped pajamas on the tiled floor, I stepped into the shower and turned on the tap.  To my horror, ice cold water drenched my body in a matter of seconds.  I tried everything in attempt to make the water warm but eventually gave up and turned the tap off in frustration.  I was about to step out of the shower when   I noticed a pink sign above the toilet with messy writing scribbled across it. It read: For warm water, adjust the switch on the shower head. I looked up at the shower head that appeared to be a large blue bulb with a black nob on the front. Flicking the nob to the left, I turned on the tap.  To my pleasure,  warm water oozed over my scalp and I proceeded to wash away the sweat and dirt I unwillingly collected the previous day. 

               After I was sufficiently clean and dry, I pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants around my hips and an old green t-shirt that fit loosely around my shoulders, chest and waist.  After tying my still damp shoulder length blond hair in a tight knot on top of my head, I glanced at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and winced.  I looked like a horrible cross between Cindy Lou Who and the Grinch.  I desperately reached across the sink for my make up bag and quickly snatched up the two most necessary tools I owned to make my face worthy of having social interaction. I brushed my eyelashes with mascara and swiped my  lids with black eyeliner.  My mom had told me I wouldn’t need to wear make up on this trip, however she didn’t understand the utter importance of eye definition that I would need even in the poorest of countries. 

               The make up made me look less Cindy Lou Whoish, but even though I still resembled the monster who stole Christmas, I felt okay-looking enough to journey out of the volunteer house and take a morning stroll around the orphanage.   I would be good as long as I didn’t bump in to any extremely attractive Honduran men, which I found highly unlikely in an orphanage where the oldest boys were twelve years old.  

                  Yawning, I strutted up the path in search for any life forms who were also awake at this ungodly hour.  I found two tiny boys sprawled across the concrete where the older boys had played soccer the night before.   They looked to be preoccupied with something and I noticed that the boy on the left was cuddling a ball of fur in his dark arms.  As I approached the boys I realized that the ball of fur was in fact, a cat.  I absolutely loved cats, but was unfortunately blessed with allergic reactions every time I came in close contact with them.  

                   “Hola!”  I cheered to the young boys.  They looked up at me in surprise and each replied with an “hola” in return.  The younger looking boy who wasn’t holding the cat smiled at me and said “buenas dias!” I cheerfully repeated the Spanish words even though I wasn’t sure what they meant; but I did have a sneaky suspicion the phrase translated to “good morning.”  I kneeled down beside the two boys and gazed at the precious animal with adoring eyes.  Without thinking, I brought my hand up to the cat and petted it’s soft white and grey striped fur.  The animal let out a quite purr and I couldn’t help but smile at it’s reaction to my hand strokes.  

                     “Carlos! José!” Called a male’s voice that reached my years from  behind me. The boys looked up and I turned around in curiosity to find out who the voice belonged to.  A young man was standing beside the library calling the two boys I had just been getting acquainted with.  I blinked in awe at the figure before me.  The young man’s well-built frame was clothed in blue acid washed jeans and held up by a black belt wrapped around his waist.  A striped blue dress shirt fit snuggly around his broad chest with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His chocolate eyes met my blue ones and it was as if a volt of electricity had shot through my entire body, leaving me completely breathless.  He ripped his eyes off mine and continued to call the boys, forming each word perfectly with his gorgeous full lips.  

                  “Adios,” Said one of the boys as they ran off to join the- I have to say it, hot guy standing by the biblioteca.  The three Hondurans turned and walked down the path past the library and I continued to stare absentmindedly in their general direction until I felt something soft brush my leg.  I broke my gaze and smiled as I looked down to see the cat looking at me with it’s large emerald eyes.  I scooped the animal up and laid it on my lap, continuing to pet it’s cottony fur.  So far, my allergies hadn’t taken effect thus I sat there content with the cat purring quietly in my arms while I daydreamed about the gorgeous Latin American man I had just encountered. 

                                                    ***

                  By the time I returned to the volunteer house, Maddie was already showered, dressed and perched on one of the green chairs completely devoured in one of her novels.  I told her about everything I had encountered that morning, starting with the gorgeous Honduran man.  Not to my surprise, Maddie was more interested in hearing about the cat than the Latin American. This was another main differences between Maddie and myself. I had dated a number of boys throughout high school and had expressed much interest in men, while Maddie turned a blind eye to the dating world and would rather surround herself with animals than with people of the opposite sex.  In truth, the only guys I had ever heard her fawn over were celebrities.  Maddie was the type of person you just couldn’t see with a boyfriend because she worked so well alone.  Her strong personality mixed with her outrageously busy life style of two jobs, plus the participation in a variety of sports teams, made it easy for her to avoid dating altogether.

                          Around 7:00 the rest of the group began waking from their slumbers and joined my friend and I in the hallway.  We chatted about our experiences the previous evening and our plans for the day ahead.  Today was Sunday, so we would be heading to church later that morning. Brian and Cathleen went to fetch breakfast at 7:55 and returned to the volunteer house shortly after.  Cathleen was holding a pot of coffee and Brian, a container that was emitting a deliciously familiar smell.

                     “mmmm, pancakes,”   I moaned in delight as he placed the dish that contained our breakfast on the round table.  

                         “To be honest, I didn’t expect such luxurious food here,”  Maddie chirped as she filled her plate with the delicious food. “I kinda thought we’d just be having fried beens for every meal.” Cathleen chuckled at Maddie’s comment and said, “Well, the food has improved over the last few years. Believe me though, by the end of the week you’ll definitely be tired of fried beans!”

                                                ***

                     “I’m not wearing that skirt,” I told Maddie bluntly.

                     “C’mon, apparently it’s Honduran customs to dress up for Church,” Maddie whined, holding up the awful high waisted beige skirt she was trying to lend me.

                      “I know, that’s why I brought nice jeans and a fancy shirt,” I retorted. “You know I hate wearing skirts, Maddie.”

                      “I know, but all the women in our group are going to be wearing them and they said we’re supposed to, too,” my friend sighed as she handed me the disgusting piece of material.  “Bre, just put in on, please?” I murmured a quiet “okay” and grudgingly pulled on the skirt.  I managed to fix my mauve dress shirt in such a way that it fell nicely over my hips, covering the atrocious high waist of the skirt. I looked in the mirror and had to admit, I didn’t look half bad.  However, I’d still never be caught dead wearing this outfit back in Canada.  After touching up my eye make and swiping some gloss across my lips, I followed Maddie outside the volunteer house where we met Cathleen and Margaret, who were chatting with a man I remembered only too well. My heart beat vigorously in my chest and tiny bugs squirmed in my gut as I met the gaze of those gorgeous brown eyes.

                     “Hello girls,” Margaret greeted the pair of us as we approached the little grouping.  “This is Josúe, he’s the art teacher here.”  Maddie and I shook hands with the handsome man as we smiled and said “Hola” in unison.  Margaret introduced my friend and I to Josúe while Cathleen explained to us that before he was a teacher, he used to sell his paintings to the volunteers.  “He really is extremely talented,” She said.  “I have a beautiful painting I bought from him last year.” 

                       “I would love to see one of his paintings,” I mentioned and Maddie nodded in agreement.  Margaret smiled and said something in Spanish to Josúe.  He laughed and replied to her as he looked at me in amusement.

             “He said maybe he’ll paint something for you this week,” Margaret told me.  “However Josúe doesn’t speak much English,  he graduated El Hogar before the English class was introduced.”   

                        “It’s okay,” I chuckled as I looked at my friend, “as long as I have Maddie with me I’ll be good.” Maddie rolled her eyes while stifling a laugh. “You know I’m not exactly fluent in Spanish, right?”

                        “Still, you know more than I do,” I retorted with a sly grin.  Maddie sighed in agreement and gave up the argument. Two young black haired girls skipped over to Josúe, both speaking to him in very fast Spanish.  The young man patiently bent down to listen to them, then arose to say something to Margaret.  After replying and nodding her head in understanding, she turned to us and said, “Josúe needs to attend to the kids.  We can’t forget, he does have a job to do!”  

                          “Adios,” the handsome Honduran said to the group before taking the hands of the young girls and escorting them up the path.  Holding back a nervous giggle, I turned to face Maddie in attempt to communicate with my face that he was the gorgeous man I had come across earlier. Whether she understood or not, I didn’t know because I couldn’t help looking back at Josúe, and admiring his brilliant physique.  My heart leapt into my throat when he too turned and latched his gaze on me, before disappearing around the corner with the two tiny children following on each side.