Utah to Costa Rica Road Trip

The next morning we started making calls as soon as we could, and soon came to the conclusion that the best option was to physically go to the U.S. Embassy in Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras.

We arrived in Tegucigalpa around 2 pm, and went to the embassy, but they were closed for the day! They only worked from 8:00- 11:30 am (that's government efficiency for you!).

We checked in to the Hotel Excelsior, then headed over bright and early the next morning to wait in line (or so we thought). We were actually able to get right in because we were Americans, and we were the first Americans there. When the windows opened at 8:00, we spoke with Bonnie Anderson, told our story to her, she explained what we needed to do, then she said, "If we end up staying in town for awhile, let me know. I'm a member of [your] church also, and I can help you out." What a "coincidence."

To make a long story short (as my grandpa Lazear used to say), what needed to happen was for us to get the kids passports expedited from San Fransisco, or if they were not close to being done (they should be done after 2 1/2 months!) to re-apply, which ironically would take less time to get them when applying in Honduras, than when applying from the states.

We ended up being in Tegucigalpa for about a week and a half, and it turned into a very wonderful experience. I'll admit, for a little while (only a few hours) I felt a little homesick, culture shock and frustration. We couldn't get the internet to work on our computer, we couldn't figure out how to fix it, (in the states I would have picked up the phone and called my brother) but we couldn't call anyone or communicate with anyone, and they didn't even know what quesadillas or salsa (ketchup? No!) were when we ordered them at the hotel restaurant (seriously).

But Greg, in his usual, insightful way, reminded me that we had it nice and that life was great, as it usually is. We dealt with our problems, waited patiently for our passports, and had a delightful time meeting wonderful new people. Bonnie Anderson, from the Embassy, and her husband, Craig, showed us around town and where the church was, which we went to on Sunday. Then that evening we were able to get together at the Scherbel's house for dinner where we got to meet several other American families who were members of our church, including both mission presidents for the country.

We became good friends with the Scherbel's and they were so kind in showing us around and entertaining us for the remainder of our stay in Tegucigalpa. Paul works for the U.S. Embassy also, so during our stay, we were able to go to the U.S. Ambassador's residence to swim in their pool and play a game of night volleyball. It was a lot of fun!

Monday morning we received news that San Francisco had put our passports in the mail and we would receive them in about three days! Hallelujah! So we continued to enjoy the rest of our stay and visit with our new friends.

Thursday afternoon we checked out of our hotel, The Excelsior, (which we absolutely loved, they have excellent staff!), and checked into the missionary "hotel," the place where the missionaries stay when they first arrive. It was very simple, filled with bunk beds, and the President was kind enough to let us stay. That same day we received news that our passports had arrived! Sarah Scherbel picked me up and took me to the embassy to get them (Greg took Kevin to see the mission doctor because of his swollen leg/knee- we later took him to the hospital where he received a few shots!). I was able to go into the Embassy parking lot with Sarah (the security is tight!) and Bonnie Anderson brought them out to us. While we were waiting we actually got to see the Ambassador, he walked by and waved at us!

After the night in the missionary hotel, we stopped over for breakfast at the Scherbel's before heading to Nicaragua. We have very fond memories of Tegucigalpa and were grateful for the layover and the kindness of and opportunity to meet so many like the Scherbels, the Andersons and the mission President and his wife.

Next stop, Nicaragua!

Livin' the dream, baby!

We parked at the government building, and Greg went inside to pay. Then he came back out and we were ready to go, until a man came over to Kevin’s window and asked him to roll it down. He looked inside at all of us, then went over to talk to Greg. He wanted to see all of our documents for all the kids- uh oh. (Remember, according to the Mexican consulate, all we needed to cross the border was birth certificates for the kids, and when we did cross, all they cared about was the two older kid—the younger ones were of no concern to them at all. Entering Guatemala and Honduras they didn’t ask for anything at all.) So Greg took all the birth certificates that we had (we still didn’t have Kimball’s) and went inside.

Well they didn’t even look at the birth certificates, as soon as they saw we didn’t have passports for the children, chaos ensued. “How did you get into Honduras without passports? You’re illegal immigrants!” and on and on, drama, drama. They just didn’t know what to do with us.

They had no phone at their office, so Greg rode into Nicaragua with one of the officials to talk to their “boss.” Well to make a long story short, basically all that happened all day long, after five hours of sitting in the car waiting for Greg, being hounded by cute little street urchins begging for food and money, and fun bathroom experiences with small children and third world toilets that you have to pay for that don’t come with toilet paper, all that was accomplished was more government inefficiency, U.S., Honduran and Nicaraguan. The US Embassy in Managua, Nicaragua was going to try and get us special permission to come to Managua so that we could work with them to get the kids passports, but the consulor decided he would rather take a long lunch.

We finally just told the guys at the border—We can’t sit here all night, we have to go get some food and a place to stay. Give us our driving permission slip back so we can go back into Honduras. With some persuasion they gave it back to us, but they tried to get us to pay again, and then we drove back to the Hotel Casa Real in Choluteca.

We arrived in Choluteca after dark, and tried to find our way to a decent hotel. The main road was having some construction, so we had to take a detour on some dirt roads leading who-knows-where. We had no clue where we were going, and we were being followed by a truck full of men with who-knows-what intent. After following a taxi we finally found our way back to a paved road, and then found the Hotel Casa Real. The guys following us finally stopped when we pulled into the hotel, which had secure parking. We checked in for the night, and after a quick swim, we went to bed.

Tomorrow, Nicarauga!

Livin’ the Dream Baby!