I’m driving by palm trees to my left, beyond which is the coast and white caps of the southern Caribbean Sea.
To my right: a large pile of dirt between my rental SUV and some aged storefronts. No room for pedestrians, but many make their way along the road nonetheless. Sharing this narrow road with me are plenty of motorcycles and other cars in the unmarked lanes. Small pickups holding up to seven people in its bed (once I counted) add more flair to this parade over which suspends a spiderwebs of electric lines.
snapshot from yesterday's drive
This scene could describe one of many locations in the equatorial world.
But this particular developing community lies off the coast of Honduras, on an island called Roatan. It's distinct from the mainland in its ethnic diversity, with whites, blacks, and Latinos all well represented today and in its similarly blended history.
But something else makes Roatan special: It's the location of a societal experiment, a plot of land granted enhanced autonomy by the Honduran government. Within this strip of several acres touching the coast, a startup community has formed outside the lines of conventional society. Hearing this, perhaps the idea of a commune comes to mind. But this community called "Prospera" resides on the opposite side of the political spectrum, outside of mainstream society by stretching further into the reaches of freedom, individualism, and capitalism.
With promises of development for the island, and economic enhancement and opportunity for those living nearby, this community, now just a couple of years in the making, nonetheless has had a mixed reception. Perhaps not surprising, some locals—particularly in the adjacent village, Crawfish Rock—see this community of outsiders promising development as an imposition.
artist's rendering of the Prospera community
It's the age-old debate of traditional vs. modern, slow pace vs fast, cultural roots vs economic development. Only here the contrasts are greater than usual given the futuristic designs (socially and materially) in mind at Prospera vs the severe limitations of this village's resources.
I visited Crawfish Rock Saturday morning. While there, a man way out to sea slowly made his way back to shore from a fishing excursion.
His vessel: an old surfboard
His paddle: a board
His fishing gear: an empty coke bottle, line, and hook
But darned if he didn't pull several fish from his sack resting atop the surfboard.
I’m here because I’m interested in this social experiment. (I believe communities like Prospera will be part of the future of the world, to great effect.) But more than that, I’m here for the stories—about this experiment, of the implications of it, of those partaking in it, and perhaps most of all, of those affected by it.
Today I head back to Crawfish Rock to meet with the other man in the above photo. Denzel's planning to take me on a ride in one of the village's many, humble fiberglass boats. After we return, we're to have some fish made fresh at a local kitchen.
More to come.