Last post from Honduras

So goodbye to Glens and Sabor Cubano, drunk Spanish people I don't really know (though there's plenty of those in Dublin).
Goodbye to 100 year old taxis rattling at breakneck speed up the Bulevard Morazan.
Goodbye to 4 year, 7 year, 50 year rum: Flor de Caña, I salute you.
Goodbye to road seizures, school closures; an entire civil service made up of the president's (sadly not very bright) cronies.
Goodbye to endless political gossip.
Goodbye to kind, happy people who just want to make an honest buck
and male chauvinist pigs who hiss at you in the street and leer at you in close confines
and endless conversations about feminism, struggle, and revolution!
And wondering whether the revolution will ever take off. When it does, I'll be on the next plane back. Today is the day of the soldier: I was woken at 6AM by something that sounded like canon fire. Yesterday, the government announced that it wouldn't be a national holiday after all, so everyone could just tell their mothers they wouldn't be going home and report for work as usual.
Goodbye to speculation about whether national holidays will be official or not.
Goodbye hotel Maya, home of the most welcoming swimming pool and loveliest view.
Goodbye Comayagua, spiritual home of the longest, most boring, most travelled and most accident-prone road in Honduras.
Goodbye Bambu, goodbye Regatón. Just 2 CDs will have to sustain me from now on.
Goodbye long distance relationship.
And close friends here.
And Spanish, and thinking, and rich conversations in the office.

I'm coming home.