Dry Season.
All I can say is that if I had to snap my ankle and be laid up, God’s timing couldn’t have been kinder.

April and May-the hottest time of the year in Honduras-is, like in other Third World countries, a test of endurance. Unlike in other months, the evenings do not cool off. To be confined to home with a fan in exchange for the misery of travel in the skin-searing, breath-sucking heat has been a great grace.

In the city, the atmosphere is chokingly thick with smoke from burning fields and forest fires. One cannot see the nearby hills encircling the city. Going outside to run errands provokes smarting eyes and burning nose and throat. At night I keep the apartment closed up because much of the field-burning goes on then (I presume it is easier to keep an eye on where the fires are burning) and the house smells full of fresh smoke. Flakes of black ash settle on the back porch while a greasy black film collects on interior surfaces.

But as my ankle heals, there are signs that the late Rainy Season may be on its way. Our first rain in months scoured away the city smog. Breezes begin to blow. The days mellow. Evenings cool by a few degrees. Though not yet bringing rain, clouds gather, and thunder and lightning rattle promisingly.

Marches and Protests
Recent soaring gasoline and food prices spark political unrest and protest against perceived government corruption. The ICLH contributes an official presence in marches, demanding justice, particularly for the poor, who suffer the most from sudden cost-of-living rises.