A slice of life among my Roatan friends.
I am with my friend, a few sisters, brothers, husbands, and various children. We are at a home that is down the road a short walk from her mother’s over-the-ocean home, on the other side of the narrow road. As with the homes over the water, these homes are built on stilts. However, these homes are cut into the jungle. Several homes sit side by side. Yes, like in an American suburb. Each home has a good chunk of cleared land for the home, side and back yards. Yes, like in an American suburb. But behind the back yard clearing is jungle. Lots of jungle! No other backyards like in American suburbia. In fact, there is no other home, no other yard. Not a freeway either. If you were to manage to walk — to cut your way — through that jungle, you’d land at the beach on the other side of the island. In the proper yard area are planted Plantan trees, pumpkin, papaya, mutton pepper, and cilantro. Then, growing wild are: plum trees and so much more.
Further down the road is another sister’s home. Moore and Sharia took me on a guided tour en route to her home the first day I visited.
The homes here are built of wood, each with a lapboard exterior, the lapboard running either horizontally or vertically. Their skeletons are 2×4 lumber, just like we are used to in the US. In fact, the electrical wiring and outlets are also the same as in the US. I plug in my iPhone to change almost without thinking about it. (Almost, but not 100%. The sound of the iPhone reminds me at times though that electricity is unsteady here: the charger gets quite hot as it did in Mexico and Belize as well.)
The plumbing is PVC piping as in the US, except the pieces I saw were stamped “hencho en Guatamala” as they, were made in this neighboring country.
My friend Delia is cooking a huge pot of seafood and veggie soup in the back yard and family is hanging out all around.