Shopping in Copan Ruinas

My dear and wonderful roommate Elizabeth is currently spending her summer in the land of her people, Poland. She is one of the few genuinely-selfless people I know, evidenced by the fact that she decided to spend her time in Poland working at a children's hospice. Every week or so, she'll send out an e-mail updating everyone on how things are going. From her last update:

Which brings me to my point about shopping in Poland—it’s comfortable and quaint, because everything is sold in little shops or open-air kiosks according to what it is—we have shoe stops and notebook shops, we have the butcher, the baker, the vegetable guy, and the fruit lady, not to mention the key guy and the watch master. There are some supermarkets... but on the whole people still use these small shops or stands.

So, if you know what store would sell what you're looking for, piece of cake! But, if you have no idea which store sells your desired item (in Elizabeth's case, a wine bottle opener) then you're out of luck (thank goodness she finally found one in the kitchen utensils store).

The little town of Copan Ruinas couldn't be more different. No building here serves only one purpose. The distribuidoras and pulperias, found on every street corner, sell everthing from dog food, hair dye, and cookies to toilet cleaners, canned vegetables, and phone cards. It can sometimes make for easy, one-stop shopping, but the random clutter of items can make it difficult to know if this particular store has what you're looking for. Even the restaurants around here also serve as hotels, lounges, and travel agencies. Maya Connections, about a block or so east of Don Udo's, acts as a souvenir shop, internet cafe, and laundry service. Every store has got it all!

Now, if only I could find some cold medicine to help me feel better!

Update on the loud Americans: As expected, having the loud Americans in the hotel has been a comical experience. They are quite the boisterous pair, and spend a lot of time hanging around the bar. They've even taught some of the Don Udo's staff how to make different drinks. My favorite conversation of theirs in the last hour was with Isabel. One of them pulled out a CD and asked, "Have you heard this soundtrack?" My ears perked up. "Lady GaGa?" she responded. Oh, no he didn't! I love Lady GaGa!

I don't know if I should be impressed or creeped out by how much Mr. Loud American knew about Lady GaGa. "She's been at the top of the charts for THIRTY-TWO WEEKS!" I didn't even know that! But, through all of this, what I am most impressed by is how well these loud Americans have been able to transcend the language barrier and develop amicable relationships with the staff. I am beginning to think that no one hates loud Americans abroad more than quiet Americans abroad. I think we quiet Americans tend to jump to the conclusion that loud Americans are poorly representing our country, but maybe that presupposition needs to be revised. More often than not, the loud Americans are the ones who are confident enough to interact with and learn from the locals without being embarrassed by not fitting in to a tee.

Anyway, I'm thoroughly enjoying listening to Lady GaGa. This is way better than hearing "I Want It That Way" twice an hour.
Alyce