November 2013 – Rural Honduras

El Pino – January 2002

The United Brethren Church has recently purchased 15 acres of an old orange orchard to provide homes for more homeless families. Ed, a retired surveyor, is beginning to survey the land to map out 90 properties. Other men are beginning to clear the land with machetes. It is all overgrown with grasses and weeds as tall as the orange trees. When houses are built, as many of the trees as possible will be saved.

El Pino – June 2003

Construction began a year and a half ago and 12 houses have been built. The new community on the edge of El Pino is now called Colonia Monte Hebrón. A group is building a house for the family of Timoteo Gomez. His family has been living in the back room of a church for about a year. Timoteo is a skilled construction worker and is working alongside a crew of seven Hondureños, four Russians and one North American. The houses are small for now, but the families will add on as they are able.

Guanaja – December 2010

It’s been twelve years now. Bo Bush sits at the dinner table at his own resort, “The Island House”, talking about El Mitch. It is still painfully fresh in his mind. He says the Bayman Bay Club was never able to recover and closed its doors soon after the hurricane. And so did several of the other main dive resorts. He tells of the debris found on the beach from the Windjammer Cruise ship “The Fantome”. The crew was trying to escape the path of Mitch by circling behind it, when the storm surprisingly turned south instead of north as predicted. The ship with its 31 crew members ran into the eye wall just off the coast of the island and was never heard from again. A stair banister and a few life jackets labeled “Windjammer” were all that were ever recovered. Bo says, “I knew those guys. They use to come to the discoteca here in Bonacca Town.”

On the hill behind the Island House, you can see the new growth of Caribbean pines, but among them still stand hundreds of the skeletons of trees that were killed by the salt water and wind. They are a daily reminder to the residents of that frightful week.

Up the coast, Mangrove Bight has been rebuilt, but on land this time. The Mangrove trees in the bay never returned on their own. They were a haven for fish and other marine life in the bay which provided food for the town. Recently a local resident has organized an effort to plant seedlings to try to regenerate the forest that was so important to his community, but progress is slow.

Up the hill above the bay sits a new village called “Mitch”. Some of the people wanted to settle a little farther from the water than where the new Mangrove Bight is now located.

Honduras – 2013

Today, bridges are rebuilt, the new communities of La Uba and Monte Hebrón are thriving, and Bo Bush is taking divers to some of the most beautiful dive sites in the world just outside his front door. But residents of Honduras still say there isn’t a week that goes by without hearing a reference to El Mitch. Even with all the relief efforts from all around the world, there are still dispossessed families living in temporary housing. More than a decade later, scars from the disaster still remain in the landscape as well as in the minds and lives of the survivors.

For further information:

The mangrove project can be found at www.guanajamangroves.org

Minute by minute personal accounts of Mitch from local residents: www.honduras.com/weather/index2a.htm

Colonia Bonito two months after the hurricane:

Current day Monte Hebrón:

Current day La Uba:

Bo Bush and The Island House:

San Pedro Sula – Early January, 1999 Food, supplies and volunteers are pouring into Honduras from all over the world. But progress is greatly hampered by the start of the rainy season and the fact that nearly every bridge in the country is destroyed. People are calling this second bout of rain “the son of Mitch” or “Mitchito”. Mitchito is growing into a very large boy and nerves are on edge all over again. The rivers are at the top of their banks and the water is the color of café con leche. The temporary concrete culvert and gravel bridges built by the U. S. Marines in December are washing away making vehicle travel nearly impossible. People in most outlying villages are still cut off from help. Along the dual highway near San Pedro Sula are miles and miles of makeshift houses formed from plastic sheeting, rusty pieces of metal, billboards and anything else that can be found. In the Ramón Villeda Morales International Airport, the concrete walls are stained with high water marks at shoulder heights, above the height of the computers at the check in counter. La Ceiba and Savá – January 7, 1999 The water in the streets of the city of La Ceiba is level with the sidewalks. The vehicles passing by are causing waves to splash up against the doorways of businesses. A small delegation of North Americans and Hondurans is leaving the city toward Savá, 60 miles to the east on Central America Highway 13. There is a meeting scheduled today with the mayor and town council to finalize relocation and rebuilding of the 23-family village of La Uba where Juan and his family survived in the trees. As we leave, we do not know the condition of the road or bridges. Two large rivers will have to be crossed. The first one, the Cangrejal, is spilling over its banks. We see a house in the water upside down. The bridge crossing the river is made of five concrete sections and four pillars. The first section is gone, but the space was in with gravel so traffic can reach the second section. There is a very noticeable dip between the fourth and fifth sections because the pillar under them is leaning. Some places in the road have potholes the size of swimming pools. Just past Jutiapa, muddy water is still flowing over the pavement and children stand in the water showing motorists where the edge of the pavement drops off into a water-filled crater. The drivers reward them with tips for their work as they pass. We do the same. Crossing the Aguán river valley, on our left are the remains of La Uba. All we see of the village is some pieces of thatch roof caught up in the trees and some wooden posts. Less than three months before, this whole valley was lush and green with fertile soil and endless acres of Dole bananas. Now come of the soil is washed out to sea leaving trenches in its place, and the remaining soil is buried under rocks, trees and debris. The last obstacle between us now and the meeting is the bridge over the Aguán River. As we approach, we can see it did not fare as well as the last bridge. We have to park and walk across the remaining pieces – broken, twisted, barely hanging on. There are some bicycles, and motorcycle and others on foot crossing with us. The council welcomes us into the municipal building. They are happy we were able to make it. There are greetings and introductions. United Brethren Church superintendent Francisco Raudales introduces our group. Bob Eberly, a missionary and building contractor from Pennsylvania, presents the plans for the new houses and the layout of the community. The council is impressed and thankful and issues building permits. The piece of land at the new location was sold to the Honduran United Brethren Church in December for $1,200. It is on a hill overlooking the valley and far away from the river. Now we need to go deliver the news to the La Uba families who are living in an abandoned building across from the new property. As we enter the building, we see mothers taking care of children, bedding on the floor, and a pot of corn boiling on a fire in a metal barrel. They are excited about the news of getting new homes soon. Some of our group carry in sacks of beans, rice and other supplies from the bus before we head back to La Ceiba. The new La Uba – January 11, 1999 Construction begins today on the houses. A group of volunteers just arrived from the United States. Local volunteers from La Ceiba also join in. These houses will be made of concrete and cinder blocks with metal roofs. The families receiving the homes are there to help with the work also. There will be a drawing to decide in which order families receive their homes. Someone tells us the bridge we walked across to get to the meeting in Savá on Thursday is now gone. It washed away over the weekend. To be continued ……..