Honduras has a GDP per capita of $2800; yet, it is a country of riches. The land is endowed with a natural beauty unsurpassed anywhere else in the western hemisphere.

Flying in a 14-seater to Roatan, less than an hour out from San Pedro Sula, I saw dozens of small islands wrapped in thriving forests. Crystal clear water became colored as the coral crept up toward the shore, and even from so many feet in the air, the sand on the beach looked whiter than snow.

The sight isn????????t unique to the islands though. The mainland is lush with tropical rainforests, enormous waterfalls, and fertile valleys that stretch on for miles. Tens of thousands of tourists flock here every year to see these things and more.

Tourism is a multi-million dollar industry. Green gold.

After landing, we got ourselves a cab to head to our rooms so that we could settle in before taking a look around. He knew the route by heart, racing around the corners of the cracking off pavement. After the night before, we????????d gotten used to the crazy driving by now. Once the fear for your life subsides, you can seriously appreciate that it takes only half the time to get wherever you want to go. In this case, however, it was a pity that it couldn????????t last longer. The island is absolutely beautiful.

On either side, the earth drops away, giving rise to the canopy that envelopes everything. It was so thick that at times the sky wasn????????t even visible. There????????s just you, the road, and the God-forsaken hope that you????????re not going to fly off of it.

We arrived on the other side of the island sometime less than half an hour later. Phillip????????s family owns the Paradise Island beach resort and they had offered to let us stay with them in the meantime. His sister, Nicole, had started managing the place not too long ago. She wasn????????t expected us until later, but we ran into her as soon as we got out of the cab and she helped us up to our rooms.

Standing on the balcony and looking out over the trees and to the ocean, words escaped me. It was a merging of modern man and nature in its purest form, a vision more stunning than the simple untamed wild or the concrete jungle. It????????s the future. Who said the earth had to be destroyed in order to reap profits from it?

The balcony is barely above the trees. Looking at it from the beach, it is completely invisible. Photo by: Robert Mayer

I couldn????????t wait any longer. Throwing everything down, I ran out to the beach, which was as white and clean as it looked from the sky. In every direction there was activity. One man had a stand where he rented snorkels and flippers to vacationers. Others were selling icecream or working on the latest construction project. Waitresses and bartenders, all locals, bustled about. Every last person spoke perfect English, and more than that, they were all the friendliest people I????????d ever met.

Eventually the rest of the guys came down. Phillip was with his father, Roy Schneider, and I went walking with them along the beach as he talked about the island.

The beach extends only a short way in this direction. At the rocks in the distance is where the coral reef begins, not more than thirty feet from the shore. Photo by: Robert Mayer

They had owned this property for several years and have been building it up slowly. I had been invited previously five years ago, but I couldn????????t make it. At the time, Phillip sent me a postcard from there with a picture that he had taken on it. There is a stark contrast between the Roatan of today and that of the picture five years ago. Back then, there was hardly anything, hardly anyone. The postcard showed empty beaches with little development. Now, there were people all over, but the scenery hadn????????t changed much. Everything had been preserved as much as possible.

As we passed other resorts, Mr. Schneider pointed out what many of them did right and what they could have done better. Some had wasted land on huge swimming pools that went unused because the beach was right there. Others used a rocky tile that hurt the feet. But the one thing that he hated the most was poor care for the surrounding environment. Everything should fit, he said.

Along the way, he pointed out three spots in particular. One was a hotel built into the hillside, painted orange and gray, clashing with the natural environment. Not many trees had been left standing. Another was a Club Med type resort, much cheaper and open to the masses, but also unnatural. He didn????????t like the idea.

???????We do make money. Not as much as them, but that????????s because we try to go for quality,??????? he said. It is the island????????s beauty that is its appeal. By destroying that for the sake of slightly lower prices, eventually there will be nothing left to draw visitors.

The last we saw as we approached the end of the long line of resorts was the most bizarre of them all. It was under construction, but so far it looked like something out of the Flintstones. The stony looking water slide had a giant Lego sticker slapped on it.

???????It????????s always the Americans that build these things. They????????re so bizarre, I just don????????t understand it!??????? Disbelief washed over his face. It was true, though. All three had been built by Americans and, largely, were the only ones that just didn????????t mesh.

The islanders are fierce defenders of their home. They won????????t sacrifice it for anything, especially money.

???????There is an association for all of the owners and the island????????s leaders. It meets regularly and approves all new major projects,??????? he related, as I asked him how business works on the island with so much potential resistance. Most of the owners and investors now realize that maintaining the environment is in their best interest. If sewage from a proposed development might contaminate the water, or it threatens to destroy too much of the coastline, it????????s a no go. Every decision is carefully thought out for the betterment of the island. This way, both investors and islanders can make more money, and everyone can still recognize the place they call home.

???????If people wanted big hotels and swimming pools, they????????d go to Disney World.???????

Arriving back, everyone decided it would be a good idea to check out the town. The West End was back near the other side of the island, which meant another stomach-churning cab ride. It would take another twenty minutes by road.

But no more than ten meters away and run up on the beach was a man with a boat ready to go. In fact, looking left and right, there were many more like him. The locals had developed a system of water taxis to ferry people around. The island twists around like a crescent, creating a giant harbor perfect for a beeline shot from one side to the other.

A water taxi, waiting for anyone who wants to go to the other side of the island. Photo by: Robert Mayer

We pushed off and jumped in, speeding away. Our ???????captain??????? hit a few chops really hard on purpose, sending James and Alex off their bench and almost overboard. And just as they were pushing themselves back up, he turned a corner real quick and splashed water up on their faces.

You had to laugh. They get a real kick out of goofy gringos. Not in a mean way. Just in a way that makes you take yourself less seriously, like how friends joke with each other. He got a very gringo high-five for that one.

???????What????????s your name???????? I asked him.

???????Miguel, but they call me labios,??????? he said, laughing. Lips? There was nothing particularly strange about them.

???????Do you get all the ladies or something????????

???????Like no man before me! It is why I love the Americans, but especially the Italians!???????

???????I hear that. But Honduran girls are beautiful as well.???????

He grinned widely.

???????Of course they are!???????

I actually hadn????????t seen many Americans on the island. They came and went off the cruise boats, but Roatan still didn????????t have the name brand that other places like Cancun have. Italians, on the other hand, were everywhere. Mr. Schneider had told us that they had rented out half of his rooms on a year-round basis. That????????s why lasagna and spaghetti were served every day.

???????So how long have you been doing this???????? I asked him.

???????A few years. Me and my brother used to build until more people came to the island,??????? he pointed to the other young man sitting at the front. His name was ???????El Negro,??????? because he was the darkest of everyone. ???????Business is good. It pays better. Also, I don????????t have to do anything. I just go back and forth and talk to people all day.???????

???????Everyone knows each other, so we (the water taxi captains) all have our spots, and we don????????t try to take them from each other.???????

???????What happens when there are disagreements???????? I questioned. He gazed out over the water for a moment.

???????We are not rich. There isn????????t enough money to be fighting over. We only fight over important things, like when El Negro tries to steal my girls,??????? he raised his eyebrow at his brother, and they laughed. I wish I could have been there for that one.

I looked back at the island. We were a few hundred feet out at sea. The only buildings I could see were the American-built resorts. Everything else blended in. These people may not have much money, but they live in a place that doesn????????t have a price.

A picture of where we had been just a few moments ago. It looks completely undeveloped from here. Photo by: Robert Mayer

As we pulled into the West End, we began slowing down. A fisherman was in a small boat nearby, and going too fast would create waves big enough to capsize him. He waved and we all waved back. The friendliness was contagious.

The dock at the West End. There are more water taxis here as it is a more dependable spot for customers. Photo by: Robert Mayer

The boat slid up onto the beach and El Negro jumped out and tied it to the dock. Another boat was just about to leave, some kids pushing it off before they went back to their game of futbol. We paid and said our goodbyes. Miguel said he????????d come back for us whenever we needed him and we made sure to take him up on his offer.

Roatan was a busy place. People had found thousands of ways to make money on tourism. There were restaurants of all sizes, grocery stores, internet cafes, stores selling everything from Honduran crafts and goods to cigars to aloe vera to shot glasses, and even places to rent motorcycles. They also had a keen grasp of supply and demand. Never before had I bought a small bottle of sunscreen for ten dollars!

The cars may be decades old, but the town is bustling with commerce and activity that used to not be here. Photo by: Robert Mayer

One person that intrigued me the most was a guy on the side of the street selling cheap jewelry. He was blonde, surfer-haired, and there was no way he was Honduran. We asked him what he was doing.

???????Just livin???????? like they do, mate,??????? he said as he looked up at us. The guy was definitely and Aussie.

The collective ???????why??????? soon followed.

???????Well I just thought it would be somethin???????? different.??????? No kidding. ???????Work some so I can eat and dive the rest of the time.???????

He told us how he had been in Roatan doing this for a couple months and would do it for one more until peak season was over. A small hostel had put him up to sleep at, and on weekend nights he would serve as a bartender. I met many people like him throughout the week. All types of people, all here for their own reasons, many of which had nothing to do with vacation.

Miguel arrived two hours later and took us back to where we????????d come from. There was much more to do in the week ahead, and it wouldn????????t be the last we????????d seen of these many people we????????d already met. There was more of the island to see; tourist destinations, villages, and even other islands. But it would have to wait until another time.

Lights were out at ten, and the island went completely black. Lying in bed that night, the concept of eco-friendly investing really had got a hold of me. In a growingly post-materialist society, Wal-Mart would face greater competition from the Whole Foods of the world, where slightly higher prices not only buy you more personable service, but a cleaner environment as well. Developing countries nowadays can do so without adversely affecting their environments as they did in years past. It really is the future.

The concept stayed with me my whole time in Honduras. In the week ahead, it would encompass many of the extraordinary things I saw.

*****

Post-script: My next few posts will take a detour from the tourism/business/environment perspective. Next I will look at racism in one piece, and drugs in another. Other topics will come up as well. It????????s nothing like the States.

Again, thank you all very much for reading. If you enjoyed this piece and would like to see further writing, your donations would be very much appreciated, although you are under no obligation.

When my series on Honduras it over, I will be writing pieces about Switzerland and the Czech Republic while I am in transition in these countries. But the big project I would like to announce is that I will be visiting Belarus, considered by many to be the last dictatorship in Europe, in a few weeks. I believe that writing from this location will be incredibly interesting and unique, and any donations I receive will be used exclusively toward making this writing possible. Again, thank you all for the encouragement and eyeballs. Your feedback is always encouraged.

Previous Posts:
– Destination: Honduras.