(This post was originally written back in November 2015)

Canadians will say, "I'm sorry"; Americans, "Huh"; and Hondurans? "Mañana".

"Matthew, those are just stereotypes! You can't say that!" Ok well hold your horses! Bear in mind I am not one to say that one culture is better than another, or say that all stereotypes are true of all people. In fact, I tend to find fault with my Canadian culture, especially when it ill-prepares me for dealing with others! Here's my tale:

"The Truck Repairs that Never End"

Shortly before we left Honduras in early March, we left our Land Cruiser with a good friend in Puerto Cortés. Things were going just peachy for him up until about August. During the time we were making final preparations to come down here, the crankshaft gave up the ghost. Happily, my friend was able to scrounge the bucks to find a replacement for a good price and get it installed, along with new rings and seals in the engine. Great! Then the white smoke began. That means diesel injection pump. A good used one can cost a thousand bucks! We managed to get the problem narrowed down to the injectors. After getting some money from another friend that owed us a bit, and selling an old cell phone, we managed to pay for the injectors. This is where it gets good. It was a Sunday, the weekend before the Regional Convention. We have up till now been fine without the truck, but it would be super useful for the convention! So I manage to catch a ride to San Pedro Sula on Monday, having been given the hope that Monday the Cruiser would be ready to roll. I could make it back to Santa Rosa in one day, I thought! En route, we get the message: Mañana. One piece more was needed. No sweat. With a little finagling we got it sorted out.

Monday eve I have a nice visit with my friends in the Cortés area. Stayed up late chatting. It was good. Tuesday morning we head early to the mechanic's. They're not all there yet, so we drop off the piece. I go for coffee in town, walk around a bit, and meet up with another friend. We head to the mechanic's later in the morn, and guess what? Yup, mañana. They needed a tool, so one of them went to go get one. Perfect. I'd rather be in Santa Rosa, but I've already come this far, might as well hang out and go back when the truck is ready. So another coffee, some more late night hanging out, and a Wednesday morning of sitting around. About noon we call the mechanic. His reply? Mañana. I've had enough, so I decide to go home. I guess we won't use the truck for the convention. Apparently now there's an issue with one of the pistons...

The worst part is, I keep telling myself I'll wait until they call me. But I can't help myself! I call every other day, vainly hoping for good news! But partly it's my fault. Or, as I alluded to earlier, my culture's fault. If you were to take your vehicle in to a mechanic in North America, how does it go? They diagnose, give an ETA, and then when given the go-ahead they get the needed parts and work until it's done. Well, here is different: you buy the parts and bring them. (Strangely, the hospital works on the same principle…) I thought about hanging around to see the job through, so that I could be on my way back to Santa Rosa. But I didn’t. Kinda frustrated, I preferred to get coffee. I mean really, imagine standing around the shop at Midas to make sure they install your muffler instead of slacking off! That'd be a huge insult! Well, my Honduran friend here told me that's what I should have done. It's actually best if you stay and make sure they use YOUR parts for YOUR car and, well, actually work. (Hmm, I guess I’d better get a friend to stay in the O.R. if ever I need surgery here...) Anyways, the best excuse they had was that it was raining in the afternoons and couldn't work. It IS the rainy season, so…?

(Just reading a book, waiting for a call…good book actually! BC history: Peter O’Reilly.)

I guess we still don't really need the vehicle. We've been managing. And besides, not that waiting around for the Telus guy back home is any less a frustration...

(The Expocentre in San Pedro Sula where the convention was.)

So as I mentioned above, our Regional Convention was this past weekend. All the sign language congregations across Honduras made the trek out to San Pedro Sula, to the Expocentre, for the 2-day abbreviated program. And by abbreviated, they mean the lunch break. Only a half hour on Saturday! Anyways, we got to see a lot of friends from all over the place, and some whom we only knew virtually, we got to meet in person! We were very privileged to have all the videos translated into Honduran Sign Language (LESHO)! Shelagh and I were privileged to have a small part in that, being interpreters for 2 characters in the drama about the proofs of Jesus' messiahship.

(Crammed in the back, carpooling to the convention site. Yes, it’s legal.)

UPDATE:

I actually wrote this one back in November, but delayed in posting it. Since those joyous wasted days (the ones waiting for the next mañana), things haven’t improved a whole lot for the Land Cruiser. She still sits in Puerto Cortes, this time with a confirmed faulty diesel injection pump. Not an easy part to find online, but one I’ve gotten a few leads on…in Vancouver of all places! I say that, because I’ve been looking at sites that people from around the world can offer Cruiser parts for sale, or just plain ol’ US sites! Not that it being in Vancouver helps me a ton since I’m in Honduras, not Victoria, but we did forget some things in our haste to get here, that we may need to ship ourselves some things anyways. Unless someone’s coming for a visit?? Actually, a friend here has a cousin (I’m sensing another Latino stereotype story!) in Miami (of course) who ships things to Honduras and who could maybe help out…