I am running through the Center of Honduras’ capital Tegucigalpa smiling and trying not to get too wet – the summer showers have set in and it is pouring down. I love the rain. But today I am wearing a white t-shirt with only a thin, white lace bra underneath and I don't particular feel like becoming the next contender in a Miss Wet T-shirt show. Coming from colder climates it feels so wonderful to be able to enjoy the rain without having to gear up in rain clothes and sweaters.
All Hondurans race to their houses, cars and busses... I bet if I slow down a bit I will be alone here in the square in a minute. I can’t though. I should get home...it'll be dark soon and all of the sudden. I let myself go for just a few minutes - loose myself in the warm summer rain. I twirl around looking up into the sky feeling the rain on my face, enjoying the feel of the raindrops caressing my body as they run down my torso under my shirt… ahhhh… so sweet.
When I refocus on time and place I see a group of men staring at me from the other side of the road grinning at each other. In my twirling and enjoying the rain I had forgotten all about how visible the lace pattern in my bra has become under the wet and now completely see through t-shirt. I run to my bus stop. Get on the bus with my left hand tugged in my right armpit covering up my breasts. The bus is packed. I find a spot in the back clinging on to the corner of a seat with my right hand. Of course the bus driver is a homicidal maniac, who drives like he has a death wish for us all, so as soon as he hits the gas I first have to take step back onto some ones toes and then I get thrown straight forward.