For everyone who has always made fun of me (or been annoyed with me) because I am a loud person, I would like to argue that I am no where near as loud as the Latino culture. At any point in the country, you can hear the bass pumping in the background from someone's blaring radio. Music that would be in the background at a restaurant in the States is blared at club volume from the moment the doors open until well after they close. And because every building down here is built out of concrete, all of this loudness is amplified by about a million percent.

Apart from music and voices, Latinos really like loud noises. Banging pots are a popular and affordable way to show your enthusiasm. But even more popular are the supposedly illegal firecrackers that you can purchase at the grocery store. It kind of defeats the purpose of being illegal if you can purchase them at any store in the country...but no one asked me, so whatever.

My first experience with firecrackers happened during the playoffs for the World Cup. Gabrielle and I went to a local watering hole to enjoy some frosty brew and check out the game. It kind of threw me off that everyone screamed anytime anything happened. Unlike screams at an American football game, where you can tell if something good or bad happened by the way the crowd yells, Hondurans just let out eardrum-shattering, ambiguous shrieks during any intense moment of the game., Good or bad, it all sounds the same...like the frightened scream of the stupid cheerleader/sorority character who is the first to die in a horror film. It's actually a little unnerving.

At one point, our goalie blocked a shot. Everyone in the bar screamed. Then outside, I heard screaming and gunshots. I freaked out, pushed Gabrielle out of her stool, and hit the deck. Everyone in the bar laughed at me. Because they weren't gunshots, it was people screaming and setting off firecrackers on the sidewalk right outside the door. Don't get me wrong, I definitely laughed at myself when I realized what was happening. But I would like to throw out there that it was not entirely far-fetched for me to assume that a fire fight was going on in the streets of downtown San Pedro. This scene repeated itself a couple more times before I became slightly accustomed to the screaming and gunshot-esque sounds blasting away five feet from where I sat. By the end of the night I was only violently flinching and going slightly pale each time the firecrackers were lit. Good for me.

I am a little freaked out right now, because I am fairly certain I heard gunshots next door. I am now pretty familiar with the sounds of firecrackers, and I am pretty sure that is not the origin of the sounds I just heard. It is probably just a neighbor shooting a stray dog or snake, a la Rick Perry, but I've never heard gunshots outside of the hunting or badass movie context. And now I am conflicted. I totally want to stay inside and hide. Right now that is winning. But it is starting to rain, and my laundry is outside. And if it gets rained on, I will have to wash it again tomorrow or else I will smell like acid rain and dirty city. Here's hoping it stops raining until daylight.