...when I'm proud to be a Canadian

Yesterday was the fabled USA/Honduras World-Cup qualifying soccer match in San Pedro Sula. Honduras was poised to clinch a berth in only its second-ever World Cup, and emotions had been steadily growing all week. I was frankly surprised it took until Wednesday for one of my students to first get in a dig about Honduras' inevitable conquering of the US. I returned in like, and on Friday, several students were missing because they had already headed out of town to go to San Pedro for the game.

Around 16 teachers went up to San Pedro to see the game, but didn't leave until early Saturday morning. I had been planning on going, but once I realized the total cost for transportation, hotel and ticket would be approaching 100 dollars, to say nothing of food, compounded by the fact that the upcoming school week has SIX DAYS (count 'em: Monday through SATURDAY!! but that's another story) and I had a lot of work to do (for the record, I still do, and Sunday evening is upon me), I decided it would be more prudent to forego the game. It helped my decision to know that my friends Kristin and Sage would also be sticking around, so we'd be guaranteed some quality hanging out time, and consequently I was comfortable with not joining the majority of my colleagues on one of the more exciting cultural events of the semester.

And we certainly did have a good time. Kristin, Sage and I had awesome pizza at La Albahaca on Friday, followed by coffee at the best-ambiance coffee shop we've been to yet, then watched TV. On Saturday, Game Day, we trekked out to Mall Multiplaza, the nicest mall in the city. Early on it was established that this day, to avoid any Hond-US sour grapes, we were not in fact American but rather from our neighbor to the north, Canada. We brushed up on our Canadian lingo (marking instead of grading, writing tests instead of taking them, "aboot" rather than about) and discussed the merits of hockey in the taxi, recited the lyrics of "O Canada" and bad-mouthed Torontans who make the rest of Ontario look bad in the mall's food court, and got nostalgic for maple leaves (especially red ones in the encroaching fall season) as we sat down for coffee and grading-- er, marking, at Espresso Americano (the Honduran Starbucks) for the afternoon.

We went to TGI Friday's in the mall for dinner after our school work, a good hour and a half before the US/Honduras game began. Our waiter asked us where we were from. "Somos canadienses," we replied. "Ah, oh, que bueno!" he breathed, actually appearing relieved. While the BIG game was not close to beginning, there were about 5 other games from Central and South America going on, and a large group of Ecuadoreans were around the bar, singing and cheering their country's team against that of Uruguay. It was quite an experience, although Ecuador ended up losing. We savored our sandwiches, and got out of there before the inevitable rush of catrachos who were going to show up to watch the game there - being the only gringos in a Honduran eatery during the big game was not appealing, even though we were Canadians, eh?

We grabbed a few quick groceries, dealt with some questions and, in the case of the girls, some blatant flirting, at the check-out ("Somos canadienses" was our reply once again), the quickly snagged an overpriced taxi in the rain back home, just in time for the National Anthems.

Playing Settlers of Catan while watching the game, and then flipping over to SNL was a fine cap to a fine weekend, though I've still had a Sunday of work and procrastination after it.

The U.S.A. team won, though Honduras had a penalty kick that went high and a goal recalled because of an off-sides call. This means my powerpoint background for tomorrow's class will most definitely be an American flag. You know, in solidarity with my neighbors to the south. :)