Even if it is only for a few hours, Juticalpa is always a trip. We decided to go at eight this morning to use the faster internet and eat some gas station pizza. Now, in the United States I would absolutely never eat at a gas station. I have problems eating at a Subway connected to a gas station. I think it has something to do with the fact that the bathrooms are so disgusting and they are then handling your cold cuts. Doesn't make much sense, but these guys actually make a decent slice and the bathrooms are immaculate.
So we ate a slice or two and went to the other gas station that has free high speed internet. The plan was to take the 12 o'clock bus back to San Fran, but when the time came we weren't ready so we decided to take one at 2. The bus schedule on Sunday is difficult and no matter how many times we ask, we never seem to figure it out. Last time we messed up we ended up on the little bus that could--it actually didn't make it up a hill. We had to roll down backwards and try it again. So we thought there was a bus at 2 and it turned out that we were wrong again. The bus didn't leave until 4. We could either sit out in the heat, go back and sit on the internet, or hitchhike. We decided to hitchhike. Sometimes when we hitchhike someone we know will see us and give us a ride.
A nice truck came by and I stuck my thumb out. A friendly looking gentleman asked where we were going and I told him San Francisco. He was going to Gualaco so it was on his way. He agreed to take us. The guy was strikingly normal. We had a nice conversation about each of our countries and he had been to the United States for an agricultural conference many times and was visiting Italy in a couple months. Who is this guy? Had we encountered the richest, most normal man in Honduras? He has a lot of property in the Gualaco area, including a mine that he is looking to sell to the Italians. We stopped halfway to San Francisco at a gas station and before the guy got out he asked if we wanted a soda. We respectfully declined and he entered the store. We turned to each other and said, "Wow, this guy is great. We are so lucky."
He came out of the gas station with a six pack of Miller High Life bottles, which wasn't weird at all. What we did find weird was when he pulled out of the gas station and twisted one open casually as if it were a normal Sunday drive for him. On the second half of the trip he really turned on the creepy. The conversation continued, but he would turn around and look at us while he was talking, completely ignoring the fact that he was driving. He was absolutely all over the road. The most normal man in Honduras turned out not to be so normal after all. He ended up blatantly hitting on Marie and inviting us to shoot guns on Friday. I said, "Yeah, maybe", but didn't give him my phone number. At one point he started talking about the violence in Honduras and how you can't trust the police, army, or any government branch to take care of it. He said that it is basically every man for himself in Honduras and God is the only one looking out for you. I'm sure the drinking and driving on Sundays isn't helping his case.