How do you stop a pain in the ass??

It's a question and a request for advice as during the last 5 days we have been travelling almost all day long in buses. It's painful especially when it's a chicken bus. Actually plain yellow american school buses donated by the USA government to the third world countries. The interesting part is that you get to know many people.

We've wondered many times who was guilty of all this amount of travel on such short distances. After a thorrow discusion we've decided that it's cultural!! The streets/ highways are OK, the buses not as horrible as they look on the inside, but the thing is there is no bus stop!! The driver stops every time somebody wants to hop in or get off. That happens almost every 5 minutes. Sometimes even more often. You either get used to 30 km in 4 hours or go directly to the mad house.

And we reached Tegucigalpa after 2 days of travel and bad hostals. We only had time for a quick tour that revealed us a military parade and a crowded city. Nothing attractive, almost no old buildings, the repeated hurricanes destroyed most of them. We even thought the people were not nice. It's a first since Bolivia, but that was to change a little during the next day. To conclude, the capital had almost nothing to offer to our eyes. Thus we decided to leave as soon as possible. But not before we had paid a visit to Kevin, the child Borja and his friends are supporting monthly with a sum of money.

So, after 12 hours of sleep, begun our next journey of almost all day long in the bus. We took a wrong route so we reached the wrong village (again!!) at around 13 o'clock in the afternoon. Kevin was located in another village and he had to ride half an hour on his bike to meet us. In the meanwhile, we visited the children center in the village we were in. From tiny babies to teenagers, the place took care of more than 40. They looked happy and even more when they received candies from us.

Kevin arrived in a hurry on his bike. He is 15 years old and growing a moustache!! We were astonished to hear the story of his life: orphan at the age of five, his father killed his mother. A younger sister was in a Tegucigalpa center. His dream was to become a doctor in the village where his grandma lived. In all our conversation he mentioned this place lots of times, we understood it was home to him. We left the him asking ourselves how many more lessons will this travel teach us...