Convenient enough, this week’s blog title is a double entendre since I visited Utila, a Honduran Caribbean island in order to do research for my second novel and this was the first time that I had done such a thing. If I were the least bit apprehensive, other than my brush with ESP about the flight itinerary fiasco last Monday, then my giddiness about my new venture was laid to rest.
Not only was Utila the lush, green beauty that I had remembered previously, but it had also changed. The nuanced details that I gathered simply from being there in person are priceless. I managed to conduct four formal interviews with my favorite new toy, a smart pen that records the conversation. Everyone who I warned about the fact that my pen records, seemed rather impressed at such a piece of technology being used to conduct an interview.
I took pictures of the mundane as well as the spectacular during my five days on the island with the only notable exception being a yearly “underground electronic” music event known as Sunjam. Among other restricted items, event goers could not bring a camera or cellphones or anyother image-recording recording device. I had to take more notes during my four hours on the rented island where Sunjam took place than at any other location.
At one point, I saw four out-of-place looking older gentlemen. They weren’t exactly dressed in three piece suits, but still had that aurora about them. And stereotypically, the tallest man in the foursome was obviously the one in charge to which the others deferred. I kept my eyes on them as the tallest man, who happened to be Honduran, walked slowly around, leading the other three men and pointing things out. I waited until they made their way in my direction and took the opportunity to approach them. I figured that they had been on the island about thirty minutes discussing things in their tight little circle of four and wouldn’t mind too terribly if I asked a question.
“Excuse me, are you one of the event organizers?” I asked the tall Honduran man with my nicest, most nervous smile. He politely informed me that he was a commissioner. I nodded in acknowledgement and continued to hand him one of my business cards, explaining that I was a novelist and I had wanted to interview one of the organizers to get some background information about Sunjam. At that point, two of beta males looked around and one of them told me that when he saw one of the organizers, he’d point him in my direction for an interview. I thanked him. Before I returned to my palm tree to sit down, the commissioner handed me one of his business cards in return.
Not ten minutes had passed before I was introduced to Luis Maier, a promoter based out of Tegus who, together with his partner who owns a dive shop in Utila, had started this event 15 years ago. He graciously granted me an interview, not at all minding that my smart pen was a recording device. I just marveled at how with just a little initiative on my part, I found myself interviewing one of the top guys.
I must admit that a combination of my “star struck-ness” and inexperience at interviewing, I missed asking some of the obvious questions, but fortunately, I was able to glean more information from the official Sunjam website.
I dedicated about a fifth of all the pictures I took to my gloriously named room at the surreal Jade Seahorse hotel, Shangri-La. What a joy it was for the five days that I spent in Utila to return to that place. During my first visit to Utila, I’d taken many pictures of the grounds, but this time around, I actually stayed there and dedicated all my picture taking to my room.
Now, I’m en route to the States, but I have to first spend a day on mainland Honduras. I had caught an earlier ferry than the original one I’d planned to take, thanks to the additional transportation that Sunjam caused. I’ve finally managed to escape the airport in La Ceiba, which is by far the worst of the three mainland airports. Due to incompetence on part of the Taca Airline people working the desk, I had to pass through security a whopping four times since, for one reason or another, they kept messing up my flight information and had to issue me boarding passes three times!
Nonetheless, I don’t want to end this blog in a negative note since it’s suffice to say that I’ll never fly Taca again. What I plan to do once I’m back in Austin is to work on my novel for several hours a day, incorporating all the delicious details that I’ve gathered through traveling and interviewing people.