Wolfie from Costa Rica and others have asked why did El Jefe and I come to Honduras?
Someone not to be named (but we know who you are!) even asked if I was a money-launderer. Hahaha! Apparently that is something that is not so unusual in Honduras, I am sorry to say. Well, although I have laundered a few bills when I forget to check El Jefe's pockets before putting them into the wash, no that wasn't the reason.
I had a sueño Hondureño (Honduran dream), a take-off on the sueño Americano (American dream) that is so prevalent among the people of Central America. I had visions of a simpler life, a warm climate, swaying palm trees, a year-round tropical garden, friendly people. El Jefe's mother and much of his family live here.
As most people who move to Central America do, we thought we could live better for less money. I was a little disillusioned with the U.S.A. I was sick of politics, of racism, of crime, of consumerism, of shallow ideals.
Everyone in the U.S.A. thought we were crazy to leave. Everyone here thought we were crazy to come. They were right.
Welcome to my Blogicito — 
