Just another night....

A couple nights ago was the culmination of the town fair in the next town over for me. These town fairs usually last for a couple weeks with food, rides, ect...you know, the standard fair necessities. And always at the end of the fair, is a blow-out dance that lasts into the wee hours of the night.

Now I had heard about this fair since the day I arrived at my site, and was no less than ecstatic to go. I got all ready to go, and left on foot with one of my girlfriends (who am I kidding? I only have girlfriends! Which is a good thing...) from the town.

The walk started out pretty wonderfully, the sun was going down, and it was all downhill, which was a plus. I also refused to wear my shoes, so the dust of the road and gravel were a pleasant feeling on the soles of my feet. Eventually, about 1 hour in, I began to get a little hungry and weary. My shoes had gone back on due to the rocky terrain, and my feet were developing blisters in about 6 different places. The only thing I had to look forward to was the goal in front of me. I kept chanting to myself ¨I think I can, I think I can.....¨ All I wanted to do was dance, man!

When the rocky road finally turned into the cobblestone streets of the town, I almost burst with joy. ¨We're here!¨ I thought, ¨And only two hours till the dancing begins!¨ Why we had gotten there so early was beyond me. However, I wasn´t bitter at all (this is sarcasm) when we came upon some others from our town who had arrived only half an hour later than us in a truck. ¨why didn't you just come with us?¨ They had asked. I didn't know what to say, so I just smiled between gritted teeth while still feeling the burn in my feet.

After filling my belly and drinking too much pop (due to various men who offered to buy me beers, but I refused, knowing what that could do to my reputation), the dancing began. I danced with my first victim (or I should say I was the victim...) for a couple songs, quickly realizing that he was quite drunk (already?) and hitting on me with ridiculous force. For some reason, I accepted dancing with him to a slow song. Big mistake. The entire time he was whispering sweet-nothings into my ear, trying to pull me closer. Finally, when the song ended, I didn't even say anything, I just simply fled from his arms, and spent the rest of the time ducking behind trees trying to avoid him.

I tried to have better judgement since, and decided that if I could smell beer on their breath, they were out. This was a good measurement for a good dancing partner, and fortunately the next few men I danced with were much better, although I still had to make up an excuse every time in order to escape from them. One of them was actually an extremely fun person to dance to, and my absolute favorite becuase he didn't talk to me the entire time! As I always say (since I got here, that is) silence is much better than hearing how beautiful my eyes are (as a starry night? As a sunset on a placid lake? As those of a princess? Take your pick......).

So as the night winded down, I decided it was pretty successful. I had successfully danced the night away, managed not to give my number out to any guys, danced with a fair number of men so as not to arrouse gossip, had my fair share of good conversation, and enjoyed myself thoroughly.

The walk back to the truck that was going to take us to our town (no way were we going to walk it at 3 in the morning!) was more than interesting. As I was walking back, my friend and the only other girl walking with us disappeared in front of me, leaving me alone with about 5 men. As I was walking down the street with my arms crossed, I noticed one of the guys in front of me start to take off his shirt. I thought to myself ¨what the hell is this man doing? it´s freezing.¨ At that moment, as if he had been thinking the same thing, he put it back on. A couple minutes later, I overheard a few of the other guys talking about me, and pushing one of the others over to me. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, pretending not to notice as he walked towards me and started to take his shirt of as well.

I saw him freeze in his footsteps, and walk shyly back to the group of guys, only to be pushed back to me once again. Finally, in a surprisingly smooth manner, he asked me if I was cold and if I wanted to wear his shirt. Grinning at him, and trying my best to hold back my laughter, I agreed realizing how much he had gone through to gather up the courage to ask. Immediately after, the guy who had started to take off his shirt earlier said to me ¨I was going to give you my shirt, but I didn´t have another one....¨

So that was my night. Just another day in the life of a gringa in Honduras. Although I get fed up with the ridiculous attention I get from men, sometimes a small act of chivalry makes up for it!