Honduras was the first developing country I traveled to. I was too jet lagged and in shock of the blatant poverty to care about the condition of my stay.
After a six hour flight from New York to San Pedro Sula via Miami, all I could think about was the bed I’d be cozying up to later that night. Unfortunately, I had another four hour bus ride to look forward to before arriving in Copan Valley.
As we drove further away from San Pedro Sula, the houses along the dirt road went from brick houses with tin roof tops to mud houses with tin roof tops to wooden houses with plastic tarp and finally to a plastic tarp and a piece of string.
Those were the last things I saw before everything went dark. Thoughts of a soft, white comfy bed floated around in my head and I realized just how lucky I was to even have a bed to look forward to. Right before I passed out I told myself that no matter how challenging this trip might be, I have nothing to complain about. I have everything I need and more.
When I arrived to the Graditas Maya at Copan Valley, I thought about the conditions of the place as I inspected the hotel room. A door with a crack wide enough to allow mosquitos in to feast on me as I slept was better than sleeping under a plastic tarp. A bed with questionable linen is better than the dirt floor. A makeshift shelf is better than a cardboard box. A small dingy bathroom is better than a hole in the ground and a 4-inch slit for a window is better than no windows at all.