Puerto Cortés, Honduras
I met Pichi over a week ago. Pichicho has been great as friend. He always has something to talk about. Something to teach about. Pichi is a born and raised omoan with jamaican roots. He talks little about his daily living, but everybody states he's the best sailor ever. While riding on the pick-up he wanted to talk about my days on the city I'm currently living at: Duros,¿entendés,Pichi? . Of course he did. Pichi Will attend every of your needs and might probably answer every question about omoan history. The sea itself,it's Pichi. He's,for me, a wise anphibiean. Pichi talked about his days at Pánama, the hard working days at The Canal and the return trip un which the boat was about to sink. Pichi also states he is good at cooking and as a fisherman: Mi mamá era chef y mi papá era un buen pescador,¿qué más podrías pedir?
Pichicho will encourage to take risky steps on your life: ¿Y la chica que te gusta sabe que te gusta? I never talked to him about a girl in my life, and I tried to answer but I say No. I tried to defend myself: La ciudad te consume, allá es diferente. Not for sure if God has an official spokesman but Pichi will probably take a chance as it: Mirá el mar,ese va a estar allí siempre. Yo me voy a ir. Vos te va a ir. La chica se va a ir. Si yo quiero langosta,voy y la saco. Nada me detiene. Y la como. No puedo esperar hasta mañana,ya la langosta se va a ir y yo no la voy a comer.Imaginá y algo pase en la madrugada,no llegamos a mañana,¿lo ves? Then he added ¿Sabés cómo soy al final del día? I looked at the sea which was turning into a deep blue and turn back to Pichi: Loco.Pobre.Feliz.
