new year's eve in copan, honduras

Ahh... memories of that crazy, fun night in Copan are rushing back to me. New Year's Eve is my favorite time of year, because it marks the end of one chapter, and celebrates the start of a new one. It is when people come together to celebrate the past and the future, and enjoy the present. I love New Year's Eve.

So I was especially looking forward to spending my first NYE celebration in another country.
After spending the day at the ruins, we walked back into town and I can sense the anticipation and excitement of the year coming to a close. There were a lot more people gathered at the square, enjoying popsicles and street vendor food, and kids were running around with parcels of fireworks under their arms. Everywhere we looked, there were stands selling fireworks- just like in the U.S.

Here is a picture of the square when we returned from the ruins:


We headed back to our hostel to change clothes and find a place to have our NYE dinner. We were given a recommendation by our tour guide at the ruins the day before, so we thought to give them a try. It was a restaurant called Mary's and it was just a few blocks from our hostel. So we showered and changed into our new shirts we picked up from the gift shop at the ruins, and ventured out for our last meal of 2011.

 

I wanted something different from the platos de tipico we've been eating for the past few days, and decided to try their fish and rice. I didn't know it would be breaded, and I didn't know it would be served with french fries- but it was pretty good and I scarfed it down with a salva vida, carefully avoiding the salad and the fries. Salad is considered a no-no, because they could have washed it with tap water.



So after our dinner, we headed out to see the town slowly converting into party mode. And if you know Paul, you would know that we were sure to pick up a boatload of fireworks. I think he would have liked to have his crazy stash of fireworks with us, but of course he did fine to pick up some of Hondura's finest.



So did the rest of the town. All around us, people had their own stash of fireworks, and you better believe they were lighting them up as early as 6-7pm. We walked over to the Parque El Centro and watched the sun go down as the night came to life. We lit a couple of sparklers and watched plenty of others engage in fireworks warfare, dodging flying balls of fire, and inhaling plenty of smoke.

 

After hours and hours of crazy battles of fireworks galore- it was still a ways to go before midnight. There were paper wrappers that the fireworks were wrapped in ALL OVER THE PLACE. And yet, no cops were giving anyone a hard time. It was merry and jolly and everyone was having a great time, sitting together as families and just enjoying being out there and watching all the kids run around. It was a blast, literally.



Above, if you look closely, you can see the amount of paper wrappers strewn all over the place. It was like that throughout the city. Loud blasts that were deafening would be so loud, you would jump or lose hearing in your ear. I must have covered my one good ear with the palms of my hands to try to block the sound from popping my ear drum, but there was nothing I can do from nearly knocking over, the booms were so, so loud. It was crazy.

We sat next to a family of five, a father, mother, and their three beautiful children, and one of the boys' names was Fidel. The father explained that he named his son after Fidel Castro. I thought that was hilarious. We tried to have a conversation about what Paul and I did for a living, whether they would ever go to America, and how rich he was for having three precious children, as I shared a bag of my Lifesavers Gummies with his kids.



It was still only 9 or 10pm, so we decided to walk around some more and see what was going on over by our hostel. When we got there, we saw that the owners of our hostel was also having a family party, complete with pinata and a feast of roast beef, chicken, pork and rice. The owner's wife motioned for us to follow her and took us into the kitchen. She served us a meal of roast beef and rice and explained to us to help ourselves to plenty of salad, reassuring us that she had washed it with purified water. It was such a show of kindness that touched us deeply.

We graciously accepted a plate heaped high with food and sat outside watching the kids take a whack at the pinata and the older kids lighting fireworks on the street. It was loud, exciting, and smoky. And the food was so delicious. Here is a shot of the owner, Moises, and his kids beating the pinata in front of their hostel.



Paul also joined in on the fun and helped the kids with the pinata.



It was getting closer and closer to midnight. I thought about the past year and all that I've accomplished. Mountains, marathons, new job, law school. So much happened and I was so grateful. And to be spending the last day of 2011 in Honduras was such a gift, a real treat, to be there with this family who treated us with such kindness. I told myself, I will never forget them.

Around 11:30, I needed a nap. I was just so tired. We went upstairs to our room to rest for fifteen minutes before heading back to the Parque El Centro.

When it got close to midnight, I didn't know what to expect. I wondered if they were all going to countdown in Spanish. No one did. But I knew it was finally New Year's Day when the real fireworks began. Every major hotel in town began shooting professional fireworks from their rooftops, and the sky lit up with bright, loud explosions and I felt the tears down my face. I was so sublimely happy. I prayed my gratitude and thanks to whatever Great Being was in the heavens and my heart went out to my family, my friends, and co-workers back home. I thought about Paul's family, and his mother, Betty. I thought about my life and everything in it, and I hugged Paul tightly, grateful to have him by my side.