Honduras: Seyahat rehberi, vizeler ve ücretsiz konaklama · 2026

VViktormorfeus929 · 4 Kas 2010Oku

So, in the midst of everything happening to us, we finally decided to look for work. Since our girls initially hitchhiked to their jobs (they arrived with job offers, unlike us), the people who gave them rides would leave their contacts, and some even offered them work. One of these people turned out to be Victor, an immigrant from Honduras who needed one person for Construction work. When we went to see Victor one evening, he immediately said, 'One of you come to work tomorrow at 7:00 AM.' The job involved painting houses. So, I decided to go and earn at least a little money for now. He promised to pay a decent rate—10 dollars an hour. For painting, that's certainly low, but it was at least something. The work wasn't difficult—painting houses, sometimes fences. It was easy to earn a hundred dollars a day. The downside was having to work with Latinos, who are decent people themselves, but they talk about the same thing constantly. That got old fast. But I didn't have much of a choice yet. Victor turned out to be a good boss. He paid on time and even bought us food. After a week of working for Victor, he invited me and all my friends to his party on Friday. In general, it seemed to me that all Latinos work according to this pattern: all work week they CONSTANTLY talk about their FRIDAY PARTY and how great it will be. Naturally, I wondered what kind of cool party it must be to talk about it all week. And naturally, I gathered everyone, having promised them it would be a lot of fun, took the boss's car, and we all went to the party. In the end, it was fun, but I expected better. I didn't see anything 'THAT' special worth talking about all week. What struck me was how easily Victor gave me his car to use—like, 'here are the keys, drive wherever you want.' He didn't care at all if I had a license or knew how to drive. An American wouldn't have given up his car like that. When I came back to painting on Monday, the Mexicans started telling me again that they were having a super party on Friday, like 'bring the Russian girls and come.' I said, 'Nah, forget it guys, I'm out.' Keep reading—it gets even more interesting!

UUSAblogi · 5 Eki 2009Oku

...the airport was left far behind. In the shuttle, I meet two Cubans (or rather, they meet me...) ah, Cubans... more on that later..;) In broken English, they ask where I'm from, I say Belarus.. Belarus? Never heard of it.. The rest of the way they talk among themselves in Spanish, and one by one, first the driver and then other passengers on the "shuttle" join in.. soon the whole shuttle bus knows each other by name, everyone is laughing merrily, making jokes (judging by the glances, in my direction..) oh yes, in Spanish, of course! By the way, I came to the USA with a firm intention to improve my English, but instead, it seems I'll have to learn Spanish.. In Miami, 90% speak Spanish, it's all Latinos: Cuba (this is apparently that 90%=)), Honduras, Nicaragua, Dominican Republic, Mexico, Ecuador, Colombia, Portugal, Jamaica... but the Cubans! There are tons of Cubans! A wide selection, a rich assortment.. =) In short, you could say I wasn't in America, I was in Cuba=)) ...meanwhile, our little bus reaches Miami Beach, new acquaintances gradually get off, saying goodbye to those remaining in the "shuttle" as if they had known them their whole lives or had been best friends for an eternity! Extremely friendly people!! Here is my hostel, I pay the driver, get a few invitations to visit from the passengers as I leave, turn on my default "smile and wave" (it's amazing, but it works!! An extremely useful thing) and tired but happy, I trudge to the reception.. ..reception: hello, I would like.. no, I don't speak Spanish.. yes, my friend booked a spot for me in room #11.. no, I don't have luggage, it was lost.. I get a magnetic card, and here I am in the room... Nadya (that's my friend's name) is at work.. in the room, judging by the occupied beds, there is one more person besides us.. the setting doesn't match the $27 paid: two bunk beds, a small refrigerator without a leg, one closet for three, a shower.. air conditioner right above the bed, impossible without it, but with it - it blows.. just as I'm about to take a shower, the door opens and.. - here it is, the wonderful moment of reunion!! Nadya was let off early! We rejoice, exchange impressions.. I tell her about the lost luggage, we need to go shopping immediately.. Here we are at the store. By the way, stores in Miami Beach are divided into two types: very expensive branded ones and, no less expensive, souvenir ones, where you can buy wonderful panties with no less wonderful inscriptions ("FBI - fabulous booty inside" - the most decent of what was there), as well as t-shirts-bikes-caps-towels-shorts with screaming, no, YELLING declarations of love for Miami itself and for each of its parts individually! I love Miami! I love South Beach! I love Miami Beach! I buy shorts.. next, I need shoes.. AirFrance is paying! We go into the first shop.. And here we meet for the first time... a guy trying on stilettos.. he is keenly interested if they have the same ones, but in black.. he also likes the red ones very much, but he is more comfortable in black, it's not (!) as provocative.. yeah.. we go into a couple more shops, quickly buy everything necessary - and back to the hostel, I am terribly exhausted, the night at the airport and the time difference are taking their toll.. tomorrow we have a day off, the owner (from the restaurant) promised to take us around the shops

Gguest_160061 Eki 2009Oku

Day Two Wake uuuuup!!! It's 9:00 AM. "Yeah, gotta get up!" I'm trying to stick to the diet I started back in Moscow. For breakfast: cereal with nuts and raisins, soaked in kefir (I can't have milk), butter and cheese sandwiches (instead of cottage cheese), grapefruit-flavored green tea (so delicious, I've only started drinking it in such quantities here), sometimes nut butter (nothing special, but I bought it, so I have to eat it), and DanActive (they don't have Actimel here, but they have this. Basically the same thing, just "no fat"—Americans are obsessed with cutting fat in every conceivable way, but they rarely do it systematically. They'll eat burgers and donuts, wash it down with Coke, and finish with a DanActive, like, "There, I'm watching my weight and health"). Today is a full day of work. Maybe they'll let me cut some meat. I'll introduce the main characters now so I don't have to keep explaining: ADILIO - Honduras, my boss, a good guy like many gauchos, helps me out a lot, loves Spanish and Mexican music, wears a black shirt; EDUARDO - Brazil, my teacher, does jiu-jitsu, 43 years old, built like a tank; PACO - Brazil, grills meat, always cuts a piece just right and shares if you want; NATALIA - Brazil, Helber's best friend, a bit chubby but pleasant; ANDRE - Brazil, one of the 3 managers, understanding, sociable, just a good person; DAVID - Mexico, one of the 3 managers, cunning, likes to hug girls when his wife isn't around, sees me and Vova and yells: "Russians!", a bit "slippery"; MATTHEW - Brazil, waiter, a bit overweight, which makes him the target of constant jokes, but otherwise he's like Oblomov, just with a desire to work; VLADIMIR - a Russian guy from Magnitogorsk, helps with everything, explains things, we've become good friends; HELBER - Brazil, gay, chatty, can ask you anything he wants, offer you anything, ready to tell you what, how, and with whom he's been. On the very first day of "real work," I ran into one not-so-"joyful" customer. Two guys came in with a grandmother, one was quite large, curly hair, potato nose, glasses. So, this guy started teasing me: that the meat was burnt, my English sounded weird, etc. I ignored him, of course, because: a) he's a customer, and the customer is always right; b) I have to work here until September; c) what do I care, let him say what he wants, life has already punished him enough. As Sasha told me later, "let him eat and say whatever he wants, the main thing for me is the money." Another girl, when I brought her pork sausages (she was with her boyfriend), asked: "Sausages? Whose sausages?" Her boyfriend replied: "Sausages? Oh! Good! She loves sausages, this is just for her!" I naturally laughed along with him (see rule a)). Actually, it's not hot in my uniform, there's AC everywhere, but I'm wearing boots. And when it's +30 outside and you're in boots on your feet all day, they start to swell. At first, it was hard, and I asked to go home an hour early. Andre didn't mind, and I happily left my "almost real" workday. As mentioned above, there are many Southerners in Atlanta. Being on the subway, I was the second (!!!) white person! Everyone else was Southern. It feels unusual, of course, especially after Russia. Upon arrival (50 mins from work to home), we headed to the Kroger store in Sasha's car. I knew Americans loved to eat, but not to this extent. Super cheap products, even without converting to rubles (say, 500g of M&M's for $7, bread for $1.5-3, but don't forget the average salary is $9-10 an hour), others are cheap even when converted (Pringles $1.3, milk (3.8L) about $3). You know, I like buying large packs—they last longer and are cheaper, but they... Can you imagine dry cat or dog food in a huge bag (about 16 kg)? Well, they sell chocolate balls and cereal for humans in the same size containers here! 12-liter buckets of ice cream, 5-liter juices. Also, they don't sell drinks individually in large stores, just 1 bottle. You have to buy 12 bottles of 0

EExchangeexchangeiec · 29 May 2009Oku

TABLE OF CONTENTS This blog consists of two parts: a diary, which is sometimes boring and covers day-by-day events, and thematic notes to help a first-timer or cover specific topics. Just don't forget that starting from here, you can go through all the pages in order and reach the end. DAY BY DAY: How it all started - what motivated me, the scariest moment of the whole summer, the application process How I prepared. Packing - documents, job offer, interview, how I fought to pass my exams, how to do things the smart way First days in the States - departure day, the saddest moment, Moscow, Sheremetyevo, the flight, Milan, New Fucking York, how I got to my workplace and the first couple of days PART ONE, WORK - from June 3 to August 14, mostly workdays, descriptions of my numerous jobs and colleagues PART TWO, TRAVEL - from August 14 to 16, preparation for the trip, buying gear, departure DAY 1. Philadelphia - the most important page. The first day of the trip. This is the beginning of the main part of the blog, a chain of 30 days on the road CONCENTRATES: FINANCIAL REPORT - Attention! The only and unprecedented full report on the internet about how much and where a Work and Travel USA participant earned and spent! At least, I couldn't find one at the time =) Statistics - numbers and facts. So far, only a list of all the cities and states I visited. Several pages about work. How I found it, responsibilities, pay, and daily routine mover - how I worked as a furniture mover concrete productions - how I worked as a laborer at concrete productions stocker (in progress) - about being a stocker in a clothing store night stocker (in progress) - as a night merchandiser in a grocery supermarket busser (in progress) - how I worked as a busser, i.e., an assistant to waiters in a big Mexican restaurant list of necessary things - I know exactly what is needed for an ideal trip around America by bus, + a few thoughts on what to take to America in general. And a few other tips on daily life: communication - after several failures, I came to the conclusion of how to call home if there is no internet device food - how I ate, what I concluded, and how much money it takes. So that you can immediately arrange a normal lunch upon arrival, and not eat sandwiches from the store like I did the first week. If you know how to cook, then of course my findings won't be useful to you =) I will also tell you (in progress) how I looked for housing and what conclusions I drew from this process. So, let's go! http://blogs.iec.ru/moshkam/blog/honduras/untitled-4

EExchangeexchangeiec · 29 May 2009Oku

How did it all even start, Honduras I don't even remember how it all started... It was 2008, I was a second-year student at Peter the Great St. Petersburg Polytechnic University. I knew about Work and Travel USA back in school, but I never imagined myself doing it. So, I just grew up, spent time on the internet, and didn't do anything special because nothing around me was interesting. One day, a flyer was posted on a wall at the university saying that some agency, I think it was Sindbad, would be giving a presentation about Work and Travel USA in some classroom that evening. A couple of friends and I went, listened, but then they backed out. I think one day I realized my own worthlessness and decided to change something, and the only thing that interested me at all was travel. So, I brought up the America topic on the internet again. And somehow, in February, at the family dinner table, I suggested that I might spend this summer not as usual, but maybe go to the States. My relatives didn't show much enthusiasm, and the topic quickly changed. With some sadness, I noted that no one was taking my intentions seriously anymore. At the institute, the guys were also quite skeptical about the idea of going via Work and Travel USA. Someone said that first I had to prove it wasn't a scam, and then he would go with me. I categorically stated that I didn't need such idiots with me in America, I would go alone. Well, if you've committed to it, you have to do it. My brother said, "Go, and I'll respect you then"... I'm telling you what kind of nonsense pushed me. No, of course, I went only for myself, but it was pure nonsense that led me to it... Registration I chose CMO as a sponsor very simply, through the internet. The prices were lower, there were many more participants, and there was a website with a large forum where company representatives communicated with the guys as equals and helped them. It was almost too late to start the program registration, luckily I waited until the very end =) The scariest moment of the whole summer I get out of the subway and walk to the office doors, I walk, I see the sign, I don't remember exactly what I felt, but it becomes very, very scary. I start remembering the last time I left home for a long time, it was when I was 14, a summer volleyball camp near St. Petersburg for a month, how unbearably bad it was there and how I was tearfully preparing an escape plan. I ask myself, dude, you're 19, something should have changed by now, right? And what if it hasn't?? I imagined what would happen if it hadn't and felt tears welling up... In short, I walked, walked to the CMO doors and walked past them, and towards the subway... At the subway, I stood and just thought for half an hour =) Then I pulled myself together, turned around, went in, and registered. There were pretty girls sitting there, a big, confident guy walks in to them and just signs up with a smile, they make eyes at him. God knows what they are thinking, but, damn, how much these thoughts can differ from reality... That was the scariest and most difficult moment. I am proud of myself =)) When I left the office, I was pleased with myself and, in general, my mood was cloudless.

EExchangeexchangeiec · 29 May 2009Oku

How I prepared. Packing, Honduras It gets easier from here. I gathered documents for my international passport. It was simple for me—I have a military ID due to health reasons, so there wasn't much red tape with the military enlistment office certificate. I found a travel agency online that processes these passports in 5 working days (4000 RUB, more details in the financial report). I was short on time, so I paid and got it. I paid the first installment at the central branch of Baltic Bank on Muchnoy. Job offer: I'll say it right away, I bought it. You can read how I did that here. I brought my passport, printed offer, and receipt to the CMO office in one of the final days. They were surprised at how I got an international passport in a week, and I was pleased =) Now, you just have to wait for your interview date at the embassy and for them to verify the offer in New York. On March 26, I received an email from CMO—the interview would be on April 3. I went to the interview calmly; as far as I understood from the internet, it's not scary. In the morning before leaving, I read the frequently asked questions and thought up answers while on the way. It turned out to be not scary at all; the consul asked my name, where I study, and where I will work—three questions—"your visa is approved." Out of the whole group, only two guys were denied a visa; one didn't know English at all, and the other had a brother going. Around March 25, my offer was confirmed. I paid the remaining part of the program and had to specify a departure date. I decided to leave as much time as possible for early exams. My job offer started on May 28, so I set it for May 27, right at the last minute. It couldn't be changed anymore because CMO orders the tickets. That's where I messed up. Passing exams and departure How I would plan everything now: Early exams should be taken entirely in the week before the credit week. To do this, you need to explain the situation correctly two weeks before the credit week. (Professors don't have lines yet and aren't very grumpy—if you explain it right, they won't put spokes in your wheels). Naturally, your main trump card is the lie that you have tickets to America for the start of the credit week. The standard paper about participating in an international exchange program from the CMO office helps here; you need to choose the program start date on the paper wisely. This way, if problems arise with the university, you can resolve them at the beginning of the credit week, but otherwise, the entire credit week should be left for preparation and packing. The departure date should be set at CMO about 3 days before the start date of work (indicated in the job offer). The idea that you need to fly out as early as possible to avoid problems with housing and a second job runs like a red line. In the end, I would have flown out at the end of the credit week and negotiated the start of work with the employer for three days after departure. I had to leave with a fight; one woman refused to give me a credit, saying she wasn't interested in my problems and asking why I was pushing my early exams. In short, I suffered for a long time, but in the end, she became interested in my problems; she actually did the coursework for me and gave me the credit =) All because the woman was extorting bribes from those who missed classes, and I recorded her on a voice recorder. We yelled at each other with profanity; I explained that I have a military ID for mental health reasons, so I'm not afraid of the army, and she annoyed me so much that I would write a statement first to the department and then higher up. I wasn't sure about the outcome at all, but quite unexpectedly, that same evening I received my credit. Conclusion: even though it's nice to take down an evil professor, it's still better to pass before the credit week. On April 28, an email arrived from CMO with all the information about the tickets.

EExchangeexchangeiec · 29 May 2009Oku

First days in the States, Honduras Thursday, October 16, 2008 Departure May 26 Well, I left St. Petersburg just fine. I packed on time, although there was a little panic that I had forgotten something, or that I hadn't managed to pay for my phone card online. There was an unpleasant tension in the air. There was a difficult moment when my parents were seeing me off at the train station for Moscow (my flight to the States was from Sheremetyevo). I realized that if everything went well, the next time we would meet would be in 4 months... and I couldn't be absolutely sure that everything would go well. To be honest, I wasn't even sure about the next day, because before this, I had never traveled alone on such trains... Generally speaking, I had never done anything alone before: I hadn't lived alone, hadn't worked, hadn't cooked, hadn't traveled... And although I was almost sure that I could do all this at a high level, now I was facing a real test. In short, I was really scared, but when problems arise, the strength to solve them also appears. I didn't show it and acted confident. It was very hard for my parents even without my panic; my mom was crying, my dad was looking intently into my eyes, trying to understand how I was feeling. Now it is perfectly clear that it was much harder for them that summer than it was for me... Personally, the following helps me: "Emotional pain is also a loss in survival potential... Only a person does not lose body tissues, cells, or physiological functions. They lose close relatives, loved ones, personal belongings, a dog or a cat, or they lose status or respect, etc... A psychologist would say that a person's loss (whether of important objects or close living beings) leads to a decrease in factors contributing to their survival, and therefore they become upset." Taken from Wikipedia. I enjoy reducing all manifestations of human activity to animal manifestations whenever the opportunity arises =) Maybe it will help you too, like realizing that you are above the problem itself? There. The conductor orders everyone seeing someone off to get out. I get on the train, wave to my folks, the train starts moving... May 27 Then there was Moscow, the mood was good, a new city, everything was curious. I had about ten hours before the flight, so I managed to walk around Red Square, the Kremlin, and sit in an internet cafe on Arbat. I had forgotten a copy of my military ID at home, and the cops could have hassled me, which was not at all what I needed right now. I called, my mom sent it, and I printed it out. It's better to ask the salespeople in any store on Arbat exactly which basement the internet club is in - that's how I found it. Three hours before the flight, I enter the metro. Rechnoy Vokzal station. From there, shuttle buses go to the airport terminals. I think I need Terminal 1. People are all around with bags, also in a hurry, some are worried. One such nervous guy is being led out of the shuttle by "security guards" by his arms; they start hassling him that he didn't pay for the shuttle bus and now he's going to pay a fine, otherwise he won't go anywhere. He makes excuses, is in a hurry, is worried, and takes out his wallet. I felt sorry for him. Such things would hardly have worked on me; if you don't count that I'm just healthy, I have invaluable successful experience in getting a military ID from the military enlistment office. Since then, I know how to fight bureaucratic arbitrariness and I'm not afraid. I could have helped the guy, but I was already sitting in the shuttle, and it was packed. (By the way, these buses seem to run every half hour, it makes sense to wait for a fresh, empty one) Flight At the airport, I realized that I had no idea what to do next. (The last time I flew was a long time ago with my folks) The mood was excellent, I found a couple of girls in IEC t-shirts, I walked up and said "Me too!" and smiled like an idiot =) Then I got to chatting, accidentally spilled a bottle

EExchangeexchangeiec · 29 May 2009Oku

PART ONE, WORK Five jobs, how it was, Honduras My five jobs. I'll tell you how I looked for work, how much people earn, and what their work schedule is like. June 29 Deposited checks into the account. Walked around the churches - they were closed. Called the old man as promised, said "let's do tomorrow." Ate ice cream! $1.95, very delicious, that's how I celebrated my first paycheck. Told Rob I'm staying, we moved some furniture for him. Now he's changing the carpets, and I'm sitting here watching "Caribean Resorts", in five minutes I have to go to the restaurant for the first time. Also met a guy from Palestine, he works for Rob. Came here 3 months ago for a year. I already forgot his name... =) Kind of cool... (Remembered - Waleet, like Wally from the cartoon) Night. Came back from the restaurant. Yiping arrived from Alaska, tired. It's so great here. Everything is white, clean, the people are homey, friendly. Rob did some renovations, replaced the carpet, moved the bed, fixed the AC. The guy is handy... What about the restaurant. In short - it's great, an amazing experience. I started to get an idea of how it works, who works where, and what the pay is like. For example, a waitress with only five tables (it was very "slow") got over a hundred bucks in tips. But her skirt was like a belt. Overall, the restaurant is expensive and cool, the third floor is open-air, with trees. But there were very few people today, probably because it's hot outside. We, the bussers, had nothing to do. All day I brought chips once and cleared a table a couple of times. Boring. But we chatted. Everyone here is young, the girls are very pretty, for Americans, there's a guy from England with a goofy accent. The managers and the kitchen staff are Spanish-speaking. The people in the kitchen are the most important in the restaurant. The ordering system is computerized. In general, a lot of interesting things... At the end, I asked in the kitchen, they gave me some Mexican stuff, two pancakes like things with cheese and meat in the middle. Tasty but not enough, took it home. The pay is a bit weird, $5.15 an hour + tips. And our waitress gave us $5 each in tips. That's it. So for now I'm working for the experience (and the pancakes =) We'll see... Time to sleep... The stupid phone says "Your wheneverminuts are low" and interferes with dialing home via the card. Steph is calling, but I can't talk anymore, my eyes are closing, it's impossible to lift my head.. I'm passing out... PS they let me sleep in the renovated room for one night - you should have seen it! I got very lucky with housing, only just started to realize it. Forgot one more thing! At the restaurant, it was a client's son's birthday, so our entire Mexican kitchen crew came out of their dungeons and sang a Happy Birthday type song to the kid in Spanish =) And also when I was walking to work, at the intersection of Market and High St, there were guys standing opposite each other, some for peace, and one for supporting the war, with a sign something like "honk for our troops". Well, I was walking on the side that was "for the war" and asked the guy with the sign what "honk" meant, we started talking, he's smiling, asks "Where do you think the terrorists are?" I say "Well here, in America". He says "I agree, and those guys over there support them!" I say "Well, the terrorists are at a high level here". He asks "Do you think George Bush is a terrorist?" I say "Well, yeah". He says: "Get the f* out of here!! Go back to Russia, you f*in terrorist!! get out, don't wait till I knuckle you!!!" I was shocked at how he changed.. and a minute ago he was smiling at me =(( Anyway, next time I'll walk on the other side =) To travel preparations