SunJam and Post-party depression.

This past weekend I partook a Peace Corps right of passage known as SunJam. I’m gonna skimp on most of the details but it is a big techno concert party that is on a small island off the coast of another island way out in the Caribbean. But the best part was getting to hang out on a tropical pirate island full of gringos from all over the world.

I had been to the Utila once before when my girlfriends Amanda and Elisa came to visit me. But I didn’t blog about it much except for posting their responses to the vague questions I asked them as we trudged to the airport, exhausted, hungover and each of us with varying forms of food poisoning. So not the best reporting as you can imagine.

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Anyway, a little bit about this gem of the Caribbean: Utila (pronounced OO-tee-la) is Spanish for I have no idea what. But it is the third largest of four islands off the North Coast of Honduras. Ive heard its about 11 miles long and 2 miles wide and is a backpackers paradise. The whole place has a strong pirate/hippie vibe, mostly because the island is steeped in buried treasure lore. Wikipedia has an interesting description of the island’s history, however I’m not sure how much of that particular entry is fact or fiction. But my favorite part is how Christopher Columbus landed there on his fourth trip to the new world in 1502 and upon meeting the locals, he decided they were all cannibals and it was this particular misnomer that led to these people being known as “savages” which resulted in further exploitation, enslavement, and destruction of American Indians for centuries to come. Way to go, Columbus.

Anyway.

(map and bordered pictures courtesy of Destination Utila)

Most of the action on Utila revolves around one long street maybe 4 kilometers long that hugs closely to the bay and allows for spectacular views of the mountains on Honduras’ mainland . This “main street” is also about 7 feet wide in some places and one must always be on the lookout for golf carts and scooters lest you get sideswiped by locals looking to teach the tourists a “lesson”. This strip is also where you can find a smattering of beach shack restaurants, bars, hostels, and most importantly, SCUBA centers.

The SCUBA culture is astounding. I’ve heard Utila is the cheapest place in the world to get PADI certified. If you get the Peace Corps Discount, you can become certified in as little as 3.5  days for $250. Which is a fraction of what it would cost in the states. Diving is the islands #1 industry and its what draws tourists from literally, all over the world. Its easy to spot the hardcore dive addicts too…

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One night at Tranquilos Bar there was a guy was celebrating reaching his DiverMaster status (I don’t know what that is). Per tradition, he had to stand up on the bar and shotgun a beer through his snorkel while wearing his mask. Then everyone in the crowd cheered and his buddies all slapped him on the back while he tried not vomit. A proud moment for him I’m sure… Many local restaurants even have a “divers special” which would be the caloric equivalent of a Dennys Grand Slam Breakfast, designed for the appetites of those who spent all morning hauling heavy equipment on limited oxygen.

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The food scene on Utila is pretty impressive as well. It would be hard for me to pick a favorite restaurant, but if I *had* to, it would be the big yellow Mexican-themed restaurant called El Picante. I went there the first time I was on Utila and I got to talk with the owner for a while. Jean is originally from somewhere in Africa (sorry I forget where) and he has spent several years living in the great state of Arizona (!) and low and behold he still owns a house in the suburbs of Phoenix, not far from where Amanda grew up. Small world, no? He also offered free drinks to any and all Peace Corps volunteers and thanked me personally for my honorable service to my country. And then we all rose our margaritas in the air and gave a toast to America, the best country in the world. It was precious.

This past weekend I went back to El Picante with a large group of my loud and rowdy Peace Corps friends (per my recommendation no doubt). When we declared that we wanted a table for 11 people at 7 pm on one of the busiest nights of the year, Jean managed to rustle together several tables and even threw in a few baskets of homemade tortilla chips and salsa before we had even opened our menus. So if you are ever hungry on Utila head over to El Picante and say hi to Jean for me.  And order the nachos.

The Non-divers on the island (locals) make up a fairly small community with diverse backgrounds.  The residents are an interesting mix of Garifuna, Honduran, and foreigners/Americans that came once long ago and just never left. Languages spoken here include Spanish, Garifuna and English of all varieties and accents. There are a few small grocery stores, several churches* even an elementary school. One day I saw a shirtless, shoeless board-shorts-wearing dad dropping his daughter off at school in a golf cart, presumably on his way to work as a dive instructor down at the dock.

For the weekend of SunJam, my friends and I** rented out the first floor of a very nice house that was up the hill, a ways from the main street in town where all the lively nightlife was. To the dismay of the owners who resided on the top floor, we managed to fit about 12 people into a house with two beds. It’s one of those skills you learn in college that stick with you forever. Having air-conditioning, hot shower, our own private pool and cable television was luxury above and beyond our expectations (I cant even remember the last time I took a shower that didn’t include a bucket!). And when you divide the cost among a dozen people, well it’s almost affordable. Even on our joke of a salary.

(All of the following are my own pictures).

 

Those of us among that wasn’t getting SCUBA Certified (I tend to avoid classrooms when I’m on vacation) spent the days lying on the beach, getting swept away on private yachts that belong to local millionaires and walking around town, eating, day-drinking, and socializing. And in the evenings, we would hit up the various pirate/mermaid themed bars which are all seem to be located on rickety wooden docks overlooking the bay. However my personal favorite activity was just staying at our house and chilling by the side of our private pool (:

The climax of the weekend was obviously the techno concert for which the busiest weekend of the year is named. I’m sure to most of us it was a bit of a blur, and then we had one short day to recover before we had to pack up and head back to our sites.

 

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Needless to say, I had a pretty fantastic couple of days. Perhaps one of my favorite Peace Corps vacations so far. Predictably, I am now suffering from a pretty bad case of post-party depression. I had such an amazing weekend with friends and sunbathing and eating and drinking and dancing. I really didn’t want it to be over. And I tried to convince the gang to stay longer but they all insisted they had “work and stuff”. (lame)

Now that I’m back home, all I want to do is return to the island where my only concerns had to do with where my next bagel and beer were coming from. I was only gone for a few days but getting back to normal here in site will be difficult. Especially since on Utila, I got really used to walking around town in a string bikini and no one would think twice. But now that I am back in Regular Honduras, I can look forward to being verbally harassed by men on the street for no reason other than I am a white girl walking to work.

Back to Reality.

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*I’ve heard that despite the pot-head SCUBA aficionados who live on the docks and inhabit the touristy part of the island, the rest of the natives are a very religious and conservative bunch with a high civilian-to-church ratio.

**Thanks Kyla for doing all the work to rent that amazing house. You are the best, most highly-connected party organizer ever.

And yes, the private yacht thing really happened.

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