roatan flashback

my last nite in havana was less than perfect.  i figured i could sleep through anything but i was wrong.  even wearing headphones.  i got about 2 hours of sleep before my housemates came home and woke me up.  must have been their honeymoon?  when i finally gave up trying to sleep and went into the bathroom there were used condoms all over the floor, about 2 feet from the garbage can.  really?  after that was another hour of listening to one or both of them violently throwing up.  nice.

finally its 5am and i should get ready for my 6am taxi.  time for coffee but no one is awake as promised and i have no idea where to find anything in their gross kitchen.  i really wish i'd spent time looking at this place before i decided to stay but for one nite i figured there wasn't anything too bad that could happen.

i'm getting ready, 5:10, 5:20, 5:30, no coffee.  5:40 my taxi driver rang the bell so i know its time to wake everyone up.  i wander from room to room yelling 'hola!' until i hear someone mumbling.  they also kept my passport which i very much need to leave.  i'm still kind of sick, no sleep for 2 days now, and in no mood to deal with a grumbly woman who promised me coffee at 5.  so i let the taxi driver talk to her and he brings me coffee.

manuel (the taxi driver) was a godsend for getting me ready and to the airport.  he collected all my things, got my passport and coffee, and got me to my airline.  his car was another classic but if he could buy a new one he would.  cubans aren't allowed to buy new cars (unless they are important people), and even if they could he couldn't afford one if he saved all his tips for years.  he makes exactly what everyone else makes, about 15-20cuc per month.  he does get to keep his tips, though.  

i ended up giving manuel all my extra cucs, i'd already paid about 13% to change dollars, then it would be another 13% to turn them back to dollars, why give the government more of my money?  poor kid had alot to deal with when he came to get me this morning anyway.

as i'm checking in the airline agent gave me the third degree about where i'm going, what i'm doing, when i'm going back to the states.  i couldn't understand what his interest was since i was leaving his country.  but i was so tired i answered all his questions and only later wished i hadn't.  i feel like they're still keeping track of me.

emigration was even worse, stand in front of the camera, don't smile, she checked my passport picture to my face to the picture on her screen about 10 times.  no one has ever cared that i'm leaving their country quite as much as the cubans.

an hour later i'm on the plane feeling (and looking) seriously unwell.  there are 2 german men sitting next to me and they must be supermodels.  each about 6'3", thin, totally hot, one blonde one brown.  and i'm coughing and snotty and realizing that kissing a german supermodel is not a goal that i will accomplish on this leg of my trip.  they got up and moved far away from me.

flight to panama, flight to nicaragua, almost there.  nicaragua is the first country that made me fill out a health questionnaire.  does 'it' have decay?  or a coungh?  not sure what they are but i probably have both.  i checked every box yes but they didn't even look.  at immigration there are posters everywhere about who to call if you feel sick and there's a woman in a white lab coat standing watching everyone.  at this point i'm sure i have a fever and don't want to even try to find a bus to grenada so as i approach this woman i start coughing as loud as i can, maybe she'll cart me off to the hospital and i can finally get a good nite's sleep.

but she doesn't even look at me.  i was actually disappointed when i wasn't rushed off to quarantine.  

next fevery choice was to walk across the street (giant 'best western' sign was the happiest thing i've seen in a while), and fell into bed for 14 hours.

when i woke up i couldn't imagine navigating a country where i haven't been before.  being sick and trying to find my hostel, food, money, anything, didn't sound like fun.  so that's why i'm on roatan again.  within 20 minutes of being here i had my old room back, a credit at the grocery store (since i didn't have any money), and 4 people banging on my door to welcome me back.  over the last 3 days i've slept almost continuously, but haven't gone more than a few hours at a time without someone stopping by to make sure i'm still alive and had food.  the closest thing i found to a family away from home.  feels nice.

today i think i'm finally ok.  the store had a wide selection of antibiotics and i think they're working.  managed to watch part of monday nite football before i went back to bed, that's a good sign.  the intense amount of sugar from 12 days of drinking in cuba is finally leaving my system, and everything should be great now.  maybe i'll dive a couple days here then try nicaragua again.  it looked very pretty both times i flew over it.

bye cuba, you were fun