So last weekend seven of us made the 10-hour journey to La Ceiba (on the Honduran coast) to attend Janell (McBride)'s sister’s wedding. We were only somewhat invited.
We were able to spend a day at the beach before the wedding, where Ben got his hair braided by a couple of Garifuna girls, and Edgar traded various smaller Garifuna girls Zambos (plantain chips) for on-the-beach lessons and demonstrations on dancing Punta. The water was warm, the sun was hot, and the buy-one-get-one-free shrimp lunches eaten right on the beach were a pleasant departure from the usual Intibucan fare.
As for the wedding, Janell’s entire family, including the bride, were surprisingly game with having a bunch of unknown white people at their special day. They sat us at basically the front row of the wedding ceremony, at one of the family tables during dinner, and Janell’s father has already invited us to visit their home in Roatan. The invitation happened, luckily enough, before us gringos started drinking and dancing. Hopefully it still stands after our multiple-hour demonstration of said whiteness. For a visual, imagine an Oreo-brand cookie, in which the cookie portion is a wedding full of Hondurans looking on with curious stares on their faces, and the filling cannot dance to save their deliciously creamy, creamy lives. Dale. Tu sabes.
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