Fausto... where to start with him. He was one of the real estate agents that I met with while in Tegucigalpa. He was full of himself, but very nice at the same time. If you can picture that. He was a very good-looking guy in his mid-thirties, never been married. Engaged once. Lived in Miami for a few years of his life, and spoke perfect english, almost to the point of not having an accent when he spoke. He prided himself on it too. Our company had met with him a couple times in the past, so I contacted to see if he was willing to meet again and he was, so we did, for 3.5 hours. He was an excellent source for me. He spoke about some of the things to see in Tegucigalpa and before he rushed off to another meeting that day, he said - I'll take you out on Friday to Villa de los Angeles. I'll tell my secretary not to plan any appointments on Friday, and I was psyched about it, then he rushed off. I didn't hear from him. Friday morning he called me and said, so today at four? And I said... yes!!!! There is nothing like having a local show you around.
So he picked me up, Friday at 4. He took me to his house so he could change after working; he had a bright, beautiful cockatoo living in his front yard which is normal to have in Central America. He lived in a cute little house in the prestigious area of Tegucigalpa, and family pictures were everywhere - he lived with the fam. It is normal for men and women both to live with Mom and Pop up until you get married; even if this doesn't happen until well into your thirties. So we headed out. He talked to me about his point of view on life, the women in his past, Honduran girls and what they were like, his crazy times and relationships in Miami. We drove up high into the mountains, passed some donkeys on the way, and stopped by the area where he wanted to build his Mom a house, and continued through the small towns up into Villa de los Angeles, a beautiful and very quaint semi-tourist town high in the mountains. We walked into some of the stores and he found a tapestry that caught his eye and bought it for me! It cost about 50 USD. Then we went to dinner at a typical Honduran restaurant with a beautiful view. He grabbed his computer from the car and spent the time while we waited for food burning for me cds of some of his favorite music - most of it in spanish. What a wonderful time I was having! I felt as though I was on a romantic date with a foreigner - or, maybe I was on a romantic date with a foreigner. After dinner - and of course he paid - we headed back into town. On the way, he threw in one of the CD's he had made for me; and to my surprise put on a song that he was singing - he was in a band and to boot, his voice was just incredible. I was feeling really good about the whole night. From there we headed to a bar downtown which Fausto claimed had some of the best drinks he had ever had. The owner of the bar was all-natural; dreadlocks down to his feet, smelled like BO, only uses natural products for everything. He was quite original and his drinks were very exotic, and all very creamy. We grabbed a drink at another bar after that before heading back. He dropped me off and I surprised myself by saying well if you're not doing anything in a couple days let me know and we'll go out again!
I got home and was just so absolutely psyched about my night. I had such a great time.
So, a couple days later, he called and asked if I wanted to go out again. We were going to try to find sushi, but after a fruitless effort to find certain restaurants that would hopefully be open, we settled with a small fast-foody type of place that served a typical Honduran dish called Baleadas. It was incredible - I thought it would taste no better than a burrito from Anna's Taqueria, but it was really good. A plain tortilla with beans spread on it, white cheese, avocado, plantains (a veg/fruit that is a mixture between a banana and a potato), and a couple very small sausages in the middle. A strange compilation of ingredients, but it was so fresh and the tastes complimented each other so well.
I asked Fausto the meaning of "buen provecho". During breakfast someone had said this to me, but I had no idea what it meant and really I didn't know how to respond to this. "Gracias, y Ud.!" I responded clearly having no idea what this meant. The waitress heard me in my confusion and tried to explain in very limited english - this means, the food is good for you. I wasn't sure if her translation was accurate, especially since her english was limited, so I asked Fausto. He told me that it means "enjoy your meal" but is usually used almost as a pick-up line; sometimes it is used as an obvious way to work your way into another conversation. I made note of this for future reference.
So after dinner we just sat and talked, or rather; I listened, listened, listened listened. This guy would not stop talking about himself, how wonderful he is, how great his family is, blah blah blah blah blah. I never noticed it the first night. He was sooooo full of himself. Maybe I had too many drinks to realize the first night? Maybe he was just lonely and insecure? I couldn't tell. After the first couple hours of not being able to get a word in edgewise, I was starting to fall asleep. I just wanted to goooooo tooooooo bedddddd. But I was having the hardest time trying to get away. We were sitting in the parking lot of my hotel, it seemed like it should be such an easy thing to do, to get out of the car, walk 15 feet into the front door and up to my room... Finally an hour later I found an appropriate time to get away. He looked at me longingly and I was afraid during that awkward period of time to leave and actually being out of the car that he was going to try to kiss me. But, I got away. I was really disappointed, this great guy I met was no longer as intriguing and attractive as I found him to be the other night. A part of me wished we never went out the second time.
But, I will never forget that great first night that we had. Might go down in the books as one of the best "dates" ever!
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