Thursday, September 20, 2018



Chris & Linda Cholas
21 Craigside Place #3B
Honolulu, HI 96817 USA
Tel: (808) 537-9526

For Mahogany – Feature Article
Part II: Journal Notes from Travels to Gracias a Dios:

Mitch Stories:

Jueves, 12 de julio de 2001:  We left La Ceiba for Palacios on a SOSA flight at 6:30 in the morning on July 11th. The view of the mountains with the green foliage of pine trees and abundant plant life was extraordinary.  Where rivers came flowing out from the mountains toward the Caribbean we saw the lingering scars from Hurricane Mitch, when rivers overflowed their banks and carried away bridges, homes, trees and anything standing on the river banks.  Three years after Mitch most of the major bridges and roads have been rebuilt.  We could see examples of new bridges below us as our fifteen-seat plane rose above La Ceiba.  My son-in-law, Santiago Crisanto, pointed out a barren hillside on the edge of the city. He told me that a colonia existed there before Mitch and was swept away by mudslides.
           
“Mitch” stories remain a part of daily lore in Honduras—everyone has their memories of the terrible ordeal that overwhelmed much of Central America for several days taking some twenty thousand lives, destroying much of the agriculture, tourism and infrastructure in Honduras and a portion of neighboring Nicaragua.  One evening in La Ceiba while enjoying tortillas, frijoles and huevos in the home of one of Santiago’s sisters, we watched a report on television about one village, Santa Rosa de Aguan.  The reporter interviewed a few of the lone survivors, who three years later still mourn the loss of life in their village.  Almost everyone died in Santa Rosa de Aguan. Santiago told me that he had once lived in Santa Rosa de Aguan briefly and bluntly said it was a village sin fe (without faith). According to Santiago, primarily sailors had supported the economy of the village and people spent their time in discos and diversions; few adhered to any religious discipline.  Santiago was not surprised that Mitch would devour such a place.

Mitch changed life in Honduras.  In addition to the loss of life, livelihood and property, the trauma of the storm still affects many mentally and emotionally. Some saw loved ones swept away on top of their homes, never to be seen again. Many bodies were never recovered: some washed out into the Caribbean, many buried under mudslides that covered whole neighborhoods. In place like the capital, Tegucigalpa, many bodies that were recovered had to be buried in black bags in large pits, because it was impossible to properly inter them in cemetery plots.  Hundreds of carcasses of dead livestock were left to rot across the land. 

The tragedy brought about by Mitch also gave rise to many acts of self-sacrifice and heroism, as unnumbered persons endeavored to help one another and save as many lives as they could.  In Palacios much of the small population took refuge on the grounds of the local Hospital Bayan, which also maintained radio contact with the outside. Built to endure winds and high water, the facilities at Hospital Bayan protected many of the area’s families, whose homes and property were damaged.  After Mitch moved out of the area on its northwest course and eventually lost its strength over southern Mexico, survivors throughout Honduras searched for family members and friends.  In Palacios some who had left their village roots to try their luck with city life returned to see if their parents and relatives had survived the storm.  These reunions improved the spirit of family life, as grown children, some who had been away from home for years, showed renewed concern for the welfare of their parents in the villages.  Home were repaired or rebuilt.

Calamities have their odd tales, too.  While we sat one day by the beach at the Hotel Parthenon (owned by a Greek) in La Ceiba, a maid recounted her story to us about the morning she returned to work, once Mitch had released its claws on the country and moved on to torment Guatemala. Fish covered the entire beach up to the hotel rooms.  People swarmed to gather what they could to take home to cook from this strange gift from the sea.  Strange, too, that even as thousands of fish had been evicted from their home in the Caribbean by the storm’s mighty surge, hundreds of people had been swept away from their homes on the land by flood currents and swallowed up by that same turbulent sea. 

After the storm, musicians composed songs about “Mitch,” which soon filled the airwaves throughout the country. 

Local Lore of the Garifuna in Palacios: 
Each place has its lore.  Among the Garinagu in Palacios I gathered these cultural notes:  Garifuna like to eat meat with every meal and even prefer not to eat if no meat or fish is available.  If mealtime comes and there is no meat on that table, someone will be sent out to fish. My son-in-law, Santiago Crisanto, said that once his mother killed one of her favorite chickens for dinner rather than to go without meat for dinner.

One day, Santiago came in with a bunch of platanos (plantain) and announced that he would show us how to make machuca, which is made by pounding platano into a gooey, poi-like texture.  Using a lot of effort, he pounded the plantain in a hollow wood bowl with a pole.  Accompanying rice and fried fished, the machuca made that evening’s meal one of the best we had while in Honduras.

Palacios is home to many snakes, frogs and scorpions.  The day we arrived in Palacios, one of the teachers at Project Bayan was stung by a scorpion in the unit next to ours; a scorpion had gotten mixed in with her laundry when it was taken off the line.  One morning as we arrived at our daughter’s home for breakfast, Santiago came in from his milpa.  He said he came across a poisonous snake while weeding around his platanos, but the snake escaped.  The older Garifuna, he said, still carry a strip of tobacco with them when they venture into the brush, chewing on a wad of the pungent stuff.  If bit by a snake, the victim places the moistened tobacco on the bite as a salve to draw the poison out.  I was unable to verify if the treatment works, but the local people stand by it.

Alejandro and Therese Martinez are Garifuna living in Palacios.  Alejandro grew up across the laguna at Batalla and Therese was born and raised in Dangriga, Belize.  They work with projects in education and environment for the non-profit Asociación Bayan based in Palacios.  They shared some about their culture with me: Drums are central to the Garifuna culture.  One traditional form of Garifuna music-- the piranda-- combines drumming and singing.  When someone dies, the piranda can be heard during wakes and the nine days of festivities that follow.  Many play dominoes following the passing of a soul.  Food is prepared for the dead soul, and then thrown into the sea.  People talk to the dead one as if the person is still physically present.  Therese thought it was interesting that when a Garinagu dies in Palacios, the body is transported across the laguna to Batalla for burial.  Alejandro said, half-jokingly, that the blacks are buried in Batalla and the whites in Palacios.  He wasn’t certain if the practice evolved from cultural tradition or stemmed from racial prejudice.  We joked about where they bury people of mixed race.

Belief in good and bad spirits remains common among the Garinagu, and spirits might appear in various ways.  Once, while visiting the primarily Garifuna town of Livingston,
Guatemala, I was told not to bother a huge, black moth on the wall of the room in a friend’s home, as it might be the spirit of someone in the next world. 

Polygamy used to be a way of life in the Garifuna culture.  A man might have a wife in one village and, while away on long fishing ventures, might secure another wife in another village or even in another country.  Now due to education, especially the education of women, and the changing economic and social situations, polygamy does not prevail among the younger generation.  AIDS (SIDA in Spanish) is affecting sexual morals, too, and the rising number of cases of AIDS has made it a national concern. 

Social Life:
Every village has its patronales festival (Saint’s Day following the Catholic Church calendar).  It is a time for large festivities that include futbol games, heavy drinking and sometimes danger.  While we spent a tranquil time in Palacios, farther down the laguna thirty minutes by motorboat, the Garifuna village of Paplaya observed their annual patronales festival.  What began as a joyous festivity quickly turned tragic.  Here are excerpts from my journal notes:  

19 de julio de 2001.  Some men came today from Paplaya carrying a body that appeared more dead than alive to the Bayan Clinic.  The injured man arrived in critical condition and was expected to die. 

The sad tale began with an account that another man was shot several times in the chest a day earlier and his body was dumped by the assassin(s) into the river by Paplaya.  A second man, a professional diver in his forties, who apparently had been drinking during the patronales festivities of the village, went out to search for the body.  Being somewhat intoxicated, the diver couldn’t negotiate the under currents of the river and began drowning.  By the time he was brought ashore he already had a lot of water in his lungs and CPR wasn’t helping.  He was loaded onto a boat and taken on the thirty-minute voyage to the Bayan Clinic where the Cuban medical staff tried to revive him.  Blood and water came out of his lungs and the helpless doctors lost him to the next world.

Soon villagers in Palacios, who knew the man, rushed to the clinic to see the drowned soul and help take his body by stretcher back to the boat to have his body returned to Paplaya for burial.  The other body was not yet recovered. 

Later, one of the Cuban doctors told me that had the diver been taken straight to the hospital in Trujillo, the man might have had a chance to survive, because the clinic in Palacios has little advanced equipment and the doctors could only watch the man die, as their efforts to revive him failed.  The doctor was very sad. 

The following day another body with a gunshot wound was brought into the clinic dripping with blood.  The victim was a relative of the one who had been shot in the chest.  He had gone to the ones accused of the first murder to avenge the death, and he, too, was shot.  The Cuban doctors treated his gunshot wound and prepared him to be flown to La Ceiba for surgery.  We heard that the young man died a few days later in La Ceiba.  The doctor again told me how sad he was.  He said that in Cuba no one is allowed to keep a gun and there are few homicides, but in Honduras everyone has to have a gun and when they start drinking, people get killed.  He said in Paplaya people were drinking and shooting bullets into the air as part of the celebration.  One errant bullet fell and killed an innocent bystander.  Such a thing, he said, would never happen in Cuba.  

Futbol:
The Garifuna share many common interests with other cultural groups in the country.  Soccer (futbol) is perhaps the greatest pass time in the country.  Every village has both men and women teams.  Santiago, whose attempts to become a professional player abruptly ended by a game injury to his knees, coaches the women’s team in Palacios.
On game days most of village show up to watch, and large contingents of fans for the opposing team come, too, in their caiucos and motorboats.  The families of the host team prepare a big banquet to feed the visiting team and their fans after the game, win or lose.
Everyone goes home happy and well fed.

The day before we left Honduras in July, the national futbol team of Honduras had a rare victory over Brazil in the Cup America played in Colombia.  The entire country celebrated, and daily conversation centered on the victory.  Despite enduring the hardships of unalleviated poverty and surviving the anguish of natural catastrophes, the people of Honduras in general express a remarkable resiliency. After three weeks of mingling with hondureƱos on the north coast, we felt uplifted by the sense of hopeful joy they exhibited; a joy that pulls us to return.  ¡Ojala! Vamos a volver a Honduras

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