Arrival at Tegulcigalpa

So, here is the airport at Tegucigalpa, Honduras-

Smooth affectionate banter among customs officials

Dogs clicking nails on gleaming tiles,

happy to be let out of their cargo cages

A new baby in pink, her bare toes braced

on her momma’s spandex—clad thigh

“Esperamos”  say a family group waiting for a taxi

“Egualitos” they say, showing a cell phone photo of

someone who looks just like someone else!

Proud grandpa in pristine white mesh cowboy hat greeting

Toddler full of himself with his red backpack

Besos y besos from a stylish grandma bending to a baby in a stroller

Big boy makes muscles at his shy little cousin, then

hug-swings the giggling guy between his legs

 

Men in blue polo shirts, a team arrived home

Camera and microphones interviewing them

The sound of Pan pipes, made of white PVC, being played

“Taxi?”  “Taxi?”  “Taxi?” We are asked.

“No, gracias.  No necesitamos.  Nuestra hija viene,”

I return.  As we wait.

As her bus is held at a military checkpoint down the road.

 

Later we convene, her trusted driver ferries us away.  Up and down dry hilly roads, razor wire looping along roof-lines, splashes of fuchsia flowers amongst the trees.

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