Fruit Inspection

Okay, so a few days ago I promised a funny story from our trip to Honduras. And here it is:

We slept every night at “the compound” in San Marcos with the exception of one. One day we traveled up, up, up to a small village in the mountains called Duyure. (Don’t ask me how to pronounce it. When I asked around, everyone gave me different answers. Just call it whatever you want, and apparently, it’s acceptable.)

Most of the guys on our trip spent several days there last year. They came back telling stories about the outdoor shower that only had walls up to their chest and while showering they were waving and saying “Hola” to people passing by on the street. This was also the town that had giant frogs which left me thinking of some old Hitchcock movie and the location where there is rumored to be boa constrictors. Not to mention sleeping on floors. This was the town that had no beds for us, but they gracioulsy offered their church.

Sooooo, needless to say, this was the part of the trip I was most NOT looking forward to. And the hours we spent ministering there leading up to bedtime had my stomach in knots anyways. I mean, we were driving in pickup trucks, on washed out dirt roads, that would drop you off the side of the entire mountain with one wrong move from the driver. I can’t even get past the 2nd step on a ladder. Driving up the side of a cliff was no picnic in the park for me!

But eventually, darkness fell and it was time to decide where we would sleep. Our options were either to share a small room with a concrete floor, wooden walls, and a teeny tiny window (no screens mind you, just a hole in the wall with a curtain type fabric hanging over it), or sleep in the church. Well, the church had ceiling fans and windows with bars, so we opted for that.

Earlier in the day I had used the ladies room. Here it is…

Thankfully, by the time I used it they had already caught the scorpion that was lurking inside. I was pleasantly surprised when I went in to see that it had a flushable toilet. Still, it was a little creepy and I swore off all liquids for the remainder of our time in Duyure. I mean, if nothing’s going in, nothing should be coming out. Right?

So I get ready for bed and set up my foam mattress next to Jeremy’s. They had given us a fitted sheet and top sheet, so that was nice. I was really nervous about sleeping there but felt better snuggled up against my man. My protector.

It was slightly warm that night but I couldn’t bear the thought of being left exposed to the creatures of the night. So I had the top sheet under my toes, knees, and arms, and then wrapped it all the way up to my neck. If I thought carbon monoxide would not have been an issue, I would have stuck my head up under there too!

I was only seconds from falling asleep when I felt something on my arm. In my groggy state of mind I thought it must be Jeremy. Then slowly my mind wrapped around the fact that he wouldn’t be able to reach that part of my arm from where he was laying. I suddenly became very WIDE awake and popped my head up to see what was there.

Just then, whatever it was, started walking down my arm and onto my hand before taking off across the floor. Once it hit the light colored tile I could see that it was big and black. And it had very long legs. I would compare it to a cross between a beetle and a cockroach. Only mucho, grande!!! Huge-e-oso!!!

To say that I flipped out might be an understatement. I jumped right up and told Jeremy there was no way I was sleeping on the floor that night. I’d rather curl up on the hard church bench. The commotion woke up a couple of others that had crashed with us, and so we all moved some of benches around until we could lay our mattresses like this:

Okay, so picture me trying to calm down, wrap back up in my sheets, and fall asleep. Then it hits me. I have to pee. WHAT??? Maybe it was all the excitement and the feeling will pass. I wait. But I have to go even worse. I can’t believe it!

I tap Jeremy on the arm. “Hey, I’m sorry, but I have to go to the bathroom. You HAVE to come with me. I CANNOT go out there by myself!”

He is reluctant but we’ve been married long enough to know that if I ain’t sleepin’, he ain’t sleepin’. So he takes me out but says he will wait for me in the doorway of the church. The outhouse place seems a mile away to me, but none of my begging has him actually walking with me (through the scorpions and snakes, right?) to the toilet.

So I am tiptoeing through the grass by the light of the moon and one small flashlight. I open the door and find the light switch. I turn it on and all the bugs in the place fly past my head to land on the light bulb that is just above the toilet. I then take a moment to peek around and make sure nothing will be crawling on any exposed areas while I take care of business.

Okay. I sit. I feel slight relief. Now, the toilet paper is behind me so I reach for it and then lean down to wipe and then…PANIC! Something just landed on my head. Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, OHMYGOSH!!!!!!!!!!

I realize that everyone else is sleeping so I refrain from screaming “THERE IS SOMETHING IN MY HAIR…GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!!!!!!!” But I do run out of the bathroom, shaking my head from side to side and back and forth, trying desperately to free the pesky insect, which in my mind is at least as big as the mucho grandeoso cock-o-roach-o that I saw earlier.

I was afraid to touch whatever it was. I thought it might bite. So I tried just flicking it with my fingers to free it from my hair. But it had tangled itself. And trust me, by now, my imaginination is running wild and the bug is getting bigger and bigger as the seconds tick on.

So I run over to Jeremy and in a whisper/scream, that came out more like a squeak, I say, “Something landed on my head, get.it.out! Right now! Hurry!”

He’s looking at my head but can’t see what I’m talking about. I am expecting to feel a pinch or a bite any minute and he’s just feeling around my hair. I’m like, “What are you doing? There is a big bug on my head!!!!”

He says, “No there isn’t.”

His obvious lack of concern for my possible deadly situation is not going over too well with me. “Jeremy, it’s right HERE! Feel it! Now get it OFF OF ME!!!!”

“It’s your hair clip.”

“What? Oh. Sorry.”