Diary & Travel Reports from the saddle

Honduras - 7th March 2003

Dear Everyone

Tegucigalpa (Tegus), HONDURAS

Right I’m out of here now. I just picked up the project proposal of the national Health Ministry, to train their 526 riders in basic preventative maintenance, and am heading to Nicaragua to continue my trip through Central America. I shall take the mountain road to the border. It is always exciting to be off on the road again, I have been in this area only a week but am looking forward to seeing what’s over the next mountain range.

It amazes me how every time I ride on super roads with breathtaking scenery I could swear that they are the best in the world! In England we have rolling hills. In Honduras they are rolling mountains, dressed with delicious smelling pine forests, which are a pure delight to journey through. The ride from Guatemala was fabulous including a 100km stretch of dirt road. On the tarmac the nobbly rear tyre is wearing sufficiently to smooth out the high speed wiggles of my 400kg motorcycle. The biggest problem with nobbly tyres is that they encourage me to venture off up steep dirt and rocky tracks just for the sake of it. My newest trick is to stop and turn around before falling off!

Honduras, with 26 years of democratically elected government, is home to a generally content but pessimistic lot of people. It is one of the most sparsely populated and poorest countries around here. Compared to their neighbours who had civil war until recently you would have thought Honduras to be better developed socially and economically. But no. Today’s newspaper comments that half of the people think their parents lived better at the same age and that their children will be worse off than they are at this age. I can’t see any reason for this, but of course if the people believe it then it will be! Shopkeepers, receptionists and everyone will happily tell you they can’t help when they actually can, so doing any sort of business here can be rather taxing. My hotel landlord believes that it is because the establishment is so corrupt.

Having children outside marriage is the norm and AIDS is a big problem. Last night a woman said we could ‘hace amor’ if I gave her a 10 Limpira (0.70c) gift. I decided against it. Massive banana corporations spray poisonous pesticides over the crop here. Local people are warned not to go outdoors and the soil and water is ruined. Think again about those big unblemished bananas we buy in the West.

As I head south the temperature is rising. So naturally when I saw a group of local youths swimming in a river I stopped for a dip. The locals were climbing the steep bank and walking out on an overhanging tree branch then jumping 5-10 metres into the river. I heard sniggers of `gringo’ as I joined them. A gringo to these people is anyone with light coloured eyes. The origin of the name is said to come from ‘Green Go’, telling green uniformed USA soldiers to go home. I`m not really sure whether to be offended or not when people snigger ‘gringo’ just within earshot - it is not clear if it is meant in a derogatory way. But shop keepers and doormen will keep gringos waiting and give preference to indigenous descendents in all sorts of small situations. So I guess you can call them racist. Anyway this gringo made a better show of the river fun since my launch into air was accompanied by sound effects.

I stopped for a night in Santa Rosa to speak with the regional public health people about their fleet of motorcycles and was welcomed into the home of Marley who rides a GPX600 equivalent. His hero is Che Guevara, he said as he thrust photos of the revolutionary icon (and cold blooded murderer) in front of me. Guevara’s booked called Motorcycle Diaries is of his South American tour visiting medical establishments and investigating leprosy treatment. Marley is the regional health department accountant and a social studies teacher too.

THE LAST FEW WEEKS

From El Salvador I rode back to Guatemala along the coast and stopped in Monterrico on the Pacific Coast for a few days. I loaded the bike onto a canoe to cross the lagoon. Osama Bin Laden (aka Pete from Maine USA) invited me to join his band of n´er do wells at his house on the black volcanic beach. A steady flow of interesting characters lodges for a few days in his laboratory. I prefer the Pacific Coast to the Carribean one not only because there are few mosquitoes, but because of the sea. Thundering breakers for me represent the relentless adventure we call life. The great ocean beats and throws me around then I stagger from the white surf completely exhausted yet satisfied with my performance on the battlefield.

You can see big fish in the curl of the waves, so loaded with my line and a borrowed surf board, I positioned myself just beyond the surf. It wasn’t long before a huge wave broke over me, I lost the line and my breath, and my desire to fish from a surfboard in 20 foot waves.

The day I rode to the border with Honduras from Xela in Guatemala (stopping to buy a spare drive chain on the way) I encountered four demonstrations by teachers, which had blocked all frontiers and main intersections. They are campaigning for better salaries, lights and books in their schools, and other basic necessities. I was cheered a few times as my great Overlander joined the other vehicles blocking bridges and so on. The last demo of the day had me stop for the night about 60km from the Honduran border. The first stop in Honduras was Copan Ruinas, with the most elaborately stone carved temple ruins of all the ancient Maya cities. No more Mayan ruins for me now, thankfully, since I have starting to be a bit ruined myself.

HEALTH DELIVERY BY MOTORBIKE

My main activity once back in Xela turned out to be helping the non governmental organization CDRO introduce a maintenance system for their fleet of 20 motorcycles. There is a thank you letter from them on the web page (Espanol section).

In Honduras I followed the usual plan, of visiting local, regional and then national health department officials. The chief of vehicles for the Public Health Ministry (Hector Andrade) is being very helpful. There are 526 motorcycles being used for health deliveries, about 20% of which need repair now. There is no organized training for the riders nor the fleet managers and little preventative maintenance. We went to see the chief civil servant together who approved the development of a plan to train all the riders and directors at all levels in their responsibilities for preventative maintenance of the fleet. That is the document I have now, it’ll be on the webpage soon. They need US$15,000 to conduct this intensive 2 month program.

I had brief meetings with local officials at USAID, the EU and UNICEF. USAID bought most of the bikes a while ago but gave little thought as to how they must be kept running. The EU runs a program in the areas of water, health and education and uses a fleet of 50 bikes. A mobile mechanic is responsible for them.

Transport of vital basic services in rural areas is a worldwide but invisible problem. Donors and the development community ignore the ongoing needs of fleets of vehicles, and this is one attitude that we must change. But the Millennium Ride is starting to build up a picture of the real needs of Central American rural health deliveries. Eventually there may be enough evidence to help force those who sign the checks to take a more sustainable approach.

So there we are. It will be interesting to get the Nicaraguan side on the 35% tax that Honduras has just slapped on Nica imports. Honduras says that after years of suffering a similar restriction on the part of Nicaragua and failed negotiations, it has to retaliate.

So long
Simon

Simon Milward, on the road

A solo fundraising round the world ride on a handmade motorcycle.
Supporting Doctors Without Borders and Health For All.

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