Home > Travel > Letters from Honduras: Part four of six

Letters from Honduras: Part four of six

Elly Johnson,
Special to Grand Central Magazine

Photograph by Elly Johnson
(Click here for more images.)

The rainy season has officially begun here with the arrival of the first tropical storm, Dean. Two weeks later Felix arrived. These are only the beginning of a string of hurricane warnings that come with living in this part of Central America.

This hurricane season, about 12 storms are anticipated to hit in a pattern of about one every two weeks. Up to this point in time we have only experienced the rain. I’m sure most of you saw the news of the devastation that took place in Jamaica and the Cayman Islands from Dean and the damage in Nicaragua from Felix. Thankfully, we were not directly in either of their paths, so my house is still standing and no, we did not have to evacuate the valley – both of which are a major relief to me. We were graced with a couple days of good, hard rain and a power outage – all minor issues.

On the Friday before Hurricane Dean hit, I headed down to Las Mangas with a backpack full of necessary hiking and camping materials ready for an adventure that had been anticipated for quite some time.

We were planning a hiking and camping trip up the mountains above Las Mangas where a view of the mountains, river and the Caribbean awaited us. Being in El Pital during the week, my sources of communication outside of this small community were at a minimum.

I can tell you the news of the neighbors and whose chickens were lost or stolen, but as for the more important things of the world, I only received word when I was downriver. This was very difficult most of the time, making me feel very disconnected. But at the same time, it was refreshing.

When I arrived in Las Mangas, the hurricane was unknown to me. I arrived prepared to work out details for our eight-hour morning hike, but instead was greeted with a hurricane warning. Talk about being caught off guard.

I wasn't sure what to think at first, but after a quick discussion with Don Magdalena, the man who was planning to guide us on the trip, we opted not to be trapped on the side of a mountain with the possibility of hurricane style winds and rain – though I guarantee it would’ve made for a great story.

I know my parents are thankful for my good judgment that once in a while overrides my adventurous side. Word was sent from La Ceiba that the boss wanted everyone to come down from the valley by Sunday as a precaution.

Evacuation? Was this necessary? According to the locals, sometimes it is.

Every rainy season, a part of the potholed, rock laden dirt road that winds up the mountains disappears into the Rio Cangrejal, leaving the people stranded with no way of going to the city. I have heard several stories of days with no power, surviving only on milk and granola, and waiting for the road to be repaired.

The good news was that our stove ran on gas, so bring on the storms and we will still eat like kings and queens (even if the wooden structure of our house falls down)!

The people who lived in this community have learned through years of experience the ins and outs of the hurricane season. In the days of anticipation before the hurricane, I passed by many homes and heard the steady crackle of the radio and the weak voice of reporters relaying the latest news of when and where the hurricane will hit.

As a precaution, all schools in the Cuenca are cancelled for several days to secure that if it does hit, the children will be safe in their homes with their families. Having lived through many hurricane seasons, a couple full days of rain seems mild to the people of these communities.

For me the most amazing part was watching the changes in the river. When Felix passed through, we woke up to rain and fell asleep to its constant drum on our tin roof. During the day, I kept a steady watch of the river from my porch, gazing through the circles of the binoculars and witnessing the force that powers the river through the rocks, continually rising with each passing hour of rain.

Since our house was made of wood, it wasn’t best hurricane shelter. So, if need be, I had my safety backup plan of retreating to my neighbors cinder block house to wait out the storm with them.

I stayed in the valley during both storms and felt safe and prepared as long as the water and food supply was stocked. So far, we have been very fortunate and I can only hope and pray that this will continue.