The Rhythm of Utila

Every place has a rhythm, or pace, of life.  Some places – cities for example – the pace is so frenetic that it’s hard to discern what the true rhythm is.  Small towns are easier to find a consistent pulse.  On a tropical island, it’s impossible to miss.  Whether they like it, or not, even the touristas will find themselves inhaling & exhaling accordingly.  The island demands it to be so.

Utila is small.   Not quite Caye Caulker small, but pretty darn small.  The island is about 7 km long & less than 1 km wide.  For my American friends, that’s about 4.4 miles x 0.6 miles.  There is one main street that runs the entire length, following arch of the bay.  There are a couple of “side streets” that spoke off of the main road.  From what I can tell, there are no street names.  People indicate location through landmarks of known businesses.  “It’s just down from Bush’s; on the same side.”  “It’s on the same road as the Jade Seahorse.”  Simple, and effective.  Assuming you know where any of those places are. 

Oh, wait!  We don’t know where any of those places are.  For this reason, it’s important to try and get the lay of the land as soon as possible.  As you know, we tried to do that on Monday, but that pesky power outage ruined our plans.  Oh, well.  Tuesday is just as good. 

Tuesday started out with an early morning rain shower.  When that passed, it was calm and sunny.  It’s been very windy here for about a week now.  Not Southern Alberta windy, mind you, but windy nonetheless.  So windy that the locals are all commenting on it, and dives are being cancelled due to choppy, cloudy water conditions.  We decide to take advantage of the morning calm to get acquainted with the reef in front of the house.  It’s about 75 yards out in shallow (belly-scraping shallow in some places), warm water.  While the coral isn’t quite as nice as on the reef we had in Roatan, there are a lot of fish and plenty to see.

After our swim and lunch, we hailed a tuk tuk and made our way in to town.  Cost of the ride is 40 lempira ($2 US) per person.  The tuk tuk dropped us off at the far end of the island and we made our way back on foot, taking note of both the “main” and more inconspicuous (my favorite) businesses.  Here’s what we’ve learned:

1.   Posted operating hours don’t mean anything.  Stores will open when someone shows up to open then, and close when that person wants to leave.  Siesta is generally stated to take place from 12-2 pm but, in the case of at least one store we encountered, could last until after 4 pm.  Business here include a plethora of dive shops, food establishments, shops selling groceries, hardware, clothing, etc., and services (bike rentals, laundry service, tour guides).  There are many, many small grocery stores on the island.  They all pretty much sell the same thing, but with varying selection and at varying prices.  It would take a while to learn where to buy what, I expect.  I also expect the prices could change shortly after you figured that out.  Like every small island, prices are higher than you’d expect considering the poverty level of the local residents.  Everything has to be shipped in on a boat, requiring lots of hands to touch it.  As you’d expect, Latino staple foods (rice, beans, cornmeal, and produce) are the cheapest items.  If you want Western convenience food, be prepared to pay a lot.  Andrew bought a can of Pringles for about $3.50 US.  Groceries can be delivered to your house, for free, if you spend $25 US (500 lempira). 

2.     The term “restaurant” is broad.  The definition includes beautiful seaside structures boasting fancy seafood cooked by North American & European chefs.  It also includes a table along the side of the street where a woman is scooping stewed meat on to home made tortillas, or cooking fresh baledas (a pastry filled with meat, eggs, cheese, etc.).   Obviously there is a price difference.  I tend to prefer the latter, though the former generally come with restrooms and free wifi. 

3.     Restaurants are only open on certain days.  For example, we were told that we “must try” Jungle Café.  It’s only open on Saturday nights, and you must have a reservation in advance.  I doubt we’ll go there.  RJ’s BBQ, which we are more likely to try, is only open on Wednesday, Friday & Sunday.  I’m not sure what the proprietors of these establishments do with the rest of their time.  Maybe nothing (which sounds lovely). 

4.     Despite being the tropics, produce is difficult to come by.  Refrigeration is limited in the shops here, and the heat is not friendly to produce for more than a day or two.  Fresh produce arrives by boat on Tuesday and Friday afternoons.  If you want cilantro that isn’t dried & crispy (and I do), you need to be in town about 4 or 4:30 on one of those days.  You also need to be prepared to hunt through several stores for what you want.  To secure a melon, a pound of bananas, some pears and cilantro took me three different stores.  I never did find a pineapple.  Maybe Friday?  

5.     Tuesday is sushi night.  Hooray!  LJ came by (and by “came by” I mean “yelled my name over the fence”) earlier in the day to ask if I wanted her to order us sushi.  Uh, is the pope Catholic?  Yes, please!  She explained the process to me – she’d call in the order by noon, and then pick it up after 6:30 pm.  It would cost me 120 lempira ($6).   About 6:45 pm, Vinnie arrived on our porch with this lovely plate of fresh-caught tuna sushi. 

6.     All beverages can be delivered to your door.  For example, Friday is fresh squeezed orange juice day.  Again, good ol’ LJ has offered to procure some for us.   (It likely goes without saying that I’m quickly becoming fond of Vinnie & LJ.)   We’re told that the deal will go down some time on Friday morning.  We don’t have to be home to receive the delivery, but should leave 150 lemps ($7.50) under a conch shell on our front stoop.  In return, we’ll receive a gallon of OJ.  I’ll let you know how that goes!   Drinking-water delivery is a similar system, here.  You call Mr. Johnnie for that.  Cost is $3 for a 3-gallon bottle.  The same “shell” procedure is used.  There is also a guy named Archie who delivers pop, beer and hard liquor.  We haven’t called him yet but, if we do, you’ll be the first to know. 

I’m sure we’ll come across more tidbits as the remainder of our two weeks unfolds.  So far, we love it here.  The locals are friendly, the weather is perfect, and we don’t have to go to work.  What’s not to love?   More pictures tomorrow – I promise!   Right now, I have a view to enjoy.