Instead of remember the beautiful toucans at Macaw Mountain, I remember the pervert who flashed me.

 

Toucans at Macaw Mountain. #honduras #travel #latergram

A photo posted by Monica Wong (@_monicawong) on

After a three-hour long horseback riding tour to La Pintada and half a day climbing up and down the Copan Ruins, my friend and I decided to sleep in on our third day in Honduras. We had breakfast at Via Via Cafe and hitched a ride from Parque Central to Macaw Mountain, a tropical rainforest 2.5km north of the Copan Ruins. Our tickets for Macaw Mountain were good for three days and it included a one-hour tour guide. However, we arrived late in the afternoon so all the tours were over by then.

We roamed around on our own looking at a rainbow of feathered birds. The macaws were kept in cages that were large enough for visitors to walk through. Other birds, like the toucans, were kept in smaller cages. I’m not a an animal fanatic so it didn’t take long for me to lose interest. Yes, these birds were beautiful but they were just birds.

A river ran through Macaw Mountain. As I approached the bridge to cross the river, I saw a guy in a bright red shirt down by the water. It was the end of the day and no one else was in the forest so I assumed he was just a maintenance worker. He lingered around playing with a stick. I turned to look for my friend and when I looked back towards the water, I realized the the guy in the river wasn’t playing with a stick. He was playing with his stick.

He clearly wasn’t a maintenance worker. I was certain I wasn’t seeing things. He had a disgusting grin on his face as he excitedly waved his stick at me. I was startled and pretended I didn’t see it. I “casually” sauntered over to my friend and whispered, “There’s a guy in the river who just flashed me.”

Since my friend and I were the only ones there, I felt extremely uncomfortable sticking around. I walked quickly through the forest while looking over my shoulder. When I arrived to the souvenir shop, I told the girl at the front desk that there was a man with his pants down in the river. I don’t know if she fully understood me or if she just didn’t want to be bothered by it, but she just sat there with a blank look on her face.

Fortunately, there was a tour guide who was about to leave for the day nearby. I explained to him what I saw and to appease me, he offered to take us for a tour. He explained that many people come to the river to shower. Sometimes they don’t realize that other people are around. I wasn’t sure I believed him or not, but by the time we returned to the river, the man in the red shirt was gone.

Monica reflects on her travels by sharing her thoughts on A Cup of Moca. She writes about her journey as she experiences the destination to encourage others to marinate in the moment instead of just checking things off a bucket list.