Adventures in Honduras

Christmas Pictures!

2009-01-18T17:56:00.006-06:00

Here are some pictures from Christmas with Melvin in the states. We were able to spend some time with my folks in Florida, as well as fly up to see my brother 7 his wife Katie and spend New Year's with them. It was also the first time in a very long time to see snow for me, and Melvin's first time ever. I also have some fun video clips of him ice skating. Hilarious!

Update

2009-01-12T18:15:00.002-06:00

Okay, I did not mean to publish that post on this blog, but I might as well explain things instead of deleting it off and leaving my fans behind.

I have a new ministry I am starting called Semillas de Esperanza, and I am very excited about it. I hope that everyone will check out my new blog (www.semillashonduras.blogspot.com) , and I do promise that now I have some financial supporters I will have some accountability for keeping my blog up to date. I am also in the process of creating an updated e-mail list, so if you'd like to be a part of that please either leave your e-mail in your comment or send me a personal e-mail at macayla.purchase@gmail.com

Much Love,
Macayla

First Meeting Ever!

2009-01-12T17:53:00.002-06:00

This past Saturday I had my first ever meeting with my girls for Semillas de Esperanza, and I am happy to say that it was overwhelmingly better than I could have imagined. Before leaving for the states in December, I had mentioned to the girls my idea of using this ministry as something that will not only teach them a skill, but also help us to have good fellowship, discipleship, as well as raising a little bit of money to do something special for these beautiful girls. Apparently, while I was gone they were asking every weekend when I was going to come back and we were going to start, and my FIRST meeting in the tiny little sewing room under the feeding center held 20 girls, myself, and two adult volunteers. I felt so blessed and like things in my life had just clicked into place. I suppose that's God factoring into that.

So, while I have been so blessed with support from family and friends back home, I am afraid that God is turning this into something even bigger than I had imagined, and I will need to purchase more tools so that we can all work together. I have had one teacher from Pinares who was given $100 to bless a ministry of their choice, and after seeing the turn out from our first SDE meeting said that this was the place to put that money. Today I also received an e-mail in which I have some pre-ordered bracelets that will be purchased to benefit another ministry for young girls also.

Stepping out in faith can sometimes be such a difficult decision. What is known is more comfortable than the unknown, and in the decision making process you are reminded of all of your inadequacies and short-comings, but when you do take that step in faith--that plunge as it may seem sometimes, God is there and he will never let you do it on your own.

I was once again very humbled that God has used me to work for him, and I was once again reminded that if I continue to step out in faith, he will bless me with something bigger than I could ever imagine. I knew there in that moment I was in exactly the right place doing the exactly the right thing, and I felt God telling my spirit that I will never be wealthy if I follow him, but I will never be in want.

Anniversary

2008-09-24T18:49:00.006-06:00

Mi Casita Nueva

2008-09-24T18:44:00.008-06:00

Summer Pics & Update

2008-09-24T18:40:00.002-06:00

Help.

2008-07-14T10:48:00.002-06:00

Please.

Please.

Please.

Pray for my housing situation.

I need to stay in the house that I'm currently in, and I feel like I am facing many obstacles. I'm trusting in God to iron out all of these wrinkles, but please pray for me and for staying in this house!

Back at home in Honduras

2008-07-11T11:14:00.003-06:00

For only being a two hour flight away from Miami to Honduras, yesterday was one of the longest days ever. With the travel time that it took to get here, I should be in Europe or something.

Let me start from the beginning. As many of you know, there will be a group from my church coming here on July 14th, and I was originally scheduled to arrive with the team. I changed the date of my flight to give me a little bit of time to become situated before the team comes, so I flew in yesterday, July 10th. With the airport still not officially open in Tegus, all flights have been re-routed through San Pedro Sula, which is only a mere 4-5 hours away by bus. I arrived in Miami 2 1/2 hours prior to departure, made it through customs, and proceeded to sit at my gate for a long time. A REAL long time. In fact, our flight was about 3 1/2 hours late, but I made good conversation with a group of Americans waiting to go to Tegucigalpa for a missions trip. We chatted, shared banana bread together, and as I realized that there was no way I'd be able to reach SPS in time to make my 2:15 bus, for which I was going to have someone waiting for me to pick me up at the bus station when I reached Tegus. The group I was sitting with had chartered their own van to get from the airport to Tegus and said they would give me a ride, so I was good with the situation. I tried to call Melvin from the payphone in Miami to relay the message for me to my ride (Alvin), but the phone call wouldn't go through, so I then had to call my mom to call Melvin to tell him to call Alvin to tell him that I was going to be very late, but I had a ride.

So, seems pretty easy right? Not too complicated? Well, as we touch down in SPS, I stick with the group and we get all through customs to realize that our flight was so late that their chartered van had left. It drove back to Tegus. Without us.

All of the rental places inside the airport were closed, and it was late enough that there were no more busses going to Tegus. I found myself stuck in the SPS airport with a group of 13 abandoned Americans that did not speak Spanish and that had no idea how to get back to Tegus or even how to get a hotel or taxi in San Pedro Sula.

After talking with anyone and everyone working in the airport, I had guys calling their uncles, friends, cousins, brothers, ANYONE who might have a van large enough to accomodate the team of 13 plus myself and all our luggage, that would be willing to drive us in the rain all the way back to Tegus. After about an hour, we found someone. Praise the Lord.

After talking with the team, I found out that they were staying at a church retreat center about a mile away from Pinares, and in fact at the same retreat center where Melvin was currently working with another group of Americans. I, again, made a few phone calls and got Melvin to meet us at the bottom of the mountain to show the driver where to go because I was being dropped off at my house.

Its amazing the way God uses us and puts us in exactly the right place and at exactly the right time for his purpose.

Dun Dun Dun-Dun...

2008-06-15T12:19:00.011-06:00

Today seems like the first day since Wednesday that I have been able to exhale, relax, and take it easy. As I wrote you last, I was discussing the difficulty that it would be for me to finish out the school year and be back in time for the wedding. Everything went according to plan, which was fantastic, but it was tiring none the less.

After my student's kindergarten graduation, I said a sad goodbye to Melvin at the bus station, rode on a bus for 5 hours, and arrived at the Mennonite Central Committee office at 11:00pm to await a mattress upon the floor that I was going to sleep on. It was the most beautiful bed I think I had ever seen. I slept for about 4 hours, woke up, took a shower (since San Pedro Sula is super hot and there was no ceiling fan or AC), and caught a taxi at 4:30 am to go to the airport. I hopped on my flight, was greeted at the airport by my dad, and went straight to the church to help my overstressed mom make the final preparations and decorations for the rehearsal dinner the next day. I think I squeezed a trip into Target sometime that day, but it was all a blur and I didn't buy a thing because I was so exhausted. For those of you who know me well, Target is the #2 of things that I miss while being in Honduras, with #1 being family and friends. For me not to buy a thing you KNOW I was exhausted. After my Thursday night Target run, my mom and I headed over to her friends house to get her hair dyed that night and to bring over the food that she was going to help prepare for the rehearsal dinner. We stayed for awhile, with me being delirious, and I returned to my parent's house to find it full of cousins that I have not seen in YEARS. I could not go to bed at that point, and I somehow managed to muster the strength and back-up reserve socialness to hang out with them for yet another couple of hours. I think it was 2 am when I finally went to bed, and I slept in on Friday until almost 11. I cannot remember the last time I did that.

Friday was rehearsal dinner, which was such a special time. I was very appreciative for my mom's 3 good friends who helped her out tremendously in serving 35 people. I normally help out my mom with all parties and social events that she puts on, but with the school year going so late and me coming in the earliest that I could, I did not help her before the event took place. So, if you're reading this ladies, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all of the hard work! We then proceeded to roast the bride and groom with stories about Gary (or whether you better know him as Gay Bear or Gall Pupohase) and Katie, who I myself do not know super well since they started dating after I was moved out and living in St. Augustine.

Saturday was the big day! We woke up early, took my mom to get her hair done, then we headed off for free make-overs with some friends we knew who worked at the cosmetics counter at Dillards. With no time to spare, we headed to the church, got dressed, and as soon as my zipper was up it seemed like family and friends were at the door. By far, my favorite part of the wedding was seeing so many members of my family all at one occasion, at one time. Since I have been away from Vero Beach now for 6 years (2 of those years being out of the country) there have been many cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. etc. who I have not seen for quite some time. I enjoyed every moment of it, and I really enjoyed having the freedom to walk around and not be tied down to any bridesmaid duties. Plus, I had an excuse to buy a really fantastic little black dress instead of the mandatory bridesmaid uniform! --Melvin, if you are reading this, please make an occasion in which I can wear this dress again! I promise you won't regret it :) --

We ate, we danced, we we all were weirded out together that my little brother is getting married. Here are some pictures of the wedding, and I promise to add more as they start filtering in. If any readers out there have some of their own that they would like to share, I can add them to my blog.

The question now is, what am I going to do for the rest of my month here???

Enjoy and God Bless.

Moi

Father of the Groom, my not-so-little brother (the Groom) and the Momma.

Mom and my fantastic Leopard-Print Grannie.

Bride & Groom

The fantastic Little Black Dress that was aforementioned above.

I mean it Melvin, we need to go out to a nice dinner or something!

Out of the chaos...

2008-06-06T15:02:00.004-06:00

Well, it has been quite some time since I have adequately posted something updating you on my life and goings-on here in Tegus. I feel like the last month has had a theme slightly reminiscent of chaos. Today was the last day of school (read: Chaotic), and recently as many of you may have heard, there was a plane crash in Tegucigalpa in which the plane ran off the runway and onto a busy street, where it still remains 1 week after the crash (read: Really Chaotic). There have also been many hunger strikes (read: Chaotic) and then just the regular everyday life (read: Slightly less chaotic than plane crashes and hunger strikes).

My guess is that however interesting my last day of school may be, you guys are probably more interested in the plane crash and what that now entails for our precious little Toncontin International Airport. On Friday morning at about 9:00 a.m. a TACA flight coming from San Salvador to pick up more passengers in Honduras before heading to Miami ran off the runway, killing 5 people. Its amazing that only 5 died, because as you can see from the picture, the plane broke into 3 pieces, and landed on top of 3 cars on a busy highway. The casualties would have been much higher, but luckily the "bomberos" (firefighters) arrived on the scene shortly and sprayed a foam-like liquid all over the area to protect the plane from exloding from the fuel leaking from both the plane and the cars that it landed upon.

Since then, Tegucigalpa has closed the doors for its international airport, diverting all flights to San Pedro Sula (5 hours away by bus) to an airport that cannot handle twice the number of flights. So, the roads are still closed with the plane remaining in its exact spot, the capital city's airport is out of commission, the airlines are not increasing the number of flights leaving SPS, but trying to fit twice the amount of people on it, and in the meanwhile hundreds of employees of Toncontin airport are out of a job. The latest rumor is that they will never open Toncontin International again, but permanently change Palmerola Air Force Base (owned by the U.S.), located a little more than an hour outside of the city, into the new international airport. I don't know who is benefitting from that venture, but my guess is that someone in the government is making a ton of money from that decision because it is certainly not beneficial to anyone else. It is almost ridiculous to think of the capital of a country not having an airport, and the trickle down effect almost seems to have no end. How will people get to the airport? What will they do with the newly renovated Toncontin? What will that mean for mission groups coming down? What about the former employees and their families? Tourists? And all of this is off the top of my head.

From this, it slightly complicates my plans for returning to the U.S. First, I have my kindergarten graduation (once again, chaotic) on Wednesday, June 11th at 2:30. That will last about an hour and a half, which puts me at 4:00. I will then need to find a ride (hint hint: I'm trying to save money for a car!!) with my suitcases in my fancy graduation dress and heels to the bus station that is at least 40 minutes away, not counting rush-hour traffic, to catch a 5:30 bus. Hopefully I will be able to change at the bus station before my 5 hour bus ride, only then to arrive at the SPS bus station, find a taxi at 11:00 at night, go to a hotel, and wake up again at 4:00 a.m. to find another taxi to take me to the airport at 5:00 a.m. to catch my 7:30 a.m. flight.

Even with all of these complications, I am reminded how blessed I am. I am mobile. I have a credit card to cover these unpredicted life events. I have the resources to take a leisurely trip to visit my familyand watch my little brother get married. I have my health. I have family and friends. I might whine and complain a little, but I know that I am so blessed.

State of the Union

2008-04-17T09:48:00.004-06:00

Today is Thursday, and it is about 9:30 in the morning. Normally I would be working today, but the government has sent out a mandate cancelling all schools for the country because of the massive strike they are anticipating today. Before I go into all the details, let me explain sort of the state of the union and why the people are striking.

As all of you reading this may know, gas is expensive and seems to be rising daily. Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela and current threat for the United States, has been trying to ally Honduras with Venezuela, luring the country with lower gas prices by buying directly from Venezuelan refineries instead of buying from the U.S. . Since Honduras buys from the U.S. and imports the gas into the country, it is more expensive. Combine those gas prices and a poor country, and you have something combustible. Literally.

Honduras cannot, by any means, make enemies with the U.S. because we depend so highly on foreign aid, exports, and good international relations with the superpower to the north. However, gas is about $4 a gallon and would be even more expensive but the government subsidizes it and keeps the prices level so that people can survive. The thing is though, the people are not surviving. The overwhelming majority of the people don't even make the $4 a day to pay for one gallon of gas, so when Hugo Chavez came through Honduras offering his propaganda and promises for a better life if we side with him, the people's desperation spoke through and believed his empty promises. I was working the day Chavez came through, but Melvin listened to the radio broadcast and his resounding feeling was that a charismatic leader offering promises that can never be fulfilled to people desperate for an answer is recipe for economic instability and invitation for tyranny. This is the same formula that plagues many poor, undeveloped nations.

Because Honduras was talking to Chavez, the U.S. took action and put economic pressure on Honduras. The three biggest exports from Honduras (which, by the way, are almost exclusively bought by the U.S.) are canteloupe, tilapia and shrimp. Earlier this month, the U.S. declared that Honduran canteloupe were contaminated by salmonella and were not being accepted in the U.S.. Honduras rebutted, saying that they were completely safe to eat and the president Mel Zelaya went on CNN recently and made this public statement to the U.S.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eb7m4uu3TNU
Basic translation: Melon is a delicious fruit, and if the president of the country can eat it live on TVwithout fear, so can the U.S. people.

Not even one week after melongate, the U.S. stopped accepting Honduran exports altogether, and we figured it out that this had nothing to do with salmonella---this was the U.S. putting economic pressure on the country showing that without them, we have no money. While I believe siding with Venezuela would be devastating for the country, I cannot judge people for wanting a better life.

With that said, gas prices have increased dramatically, which means that everything has increased in price. The GNI since 2006 has dropped, making the average household income now below $2000 per year, but costs of living have increased. Basic foods such as eggs, flour, sugar, bananas, etc. are now unaffordable to people on their current wages, which brings us to today's strikes. For awhile the government tried to placate the people by saying something reminiscent of Marie Antoinette's "let them eat cake" sentiment when told that the people of France can no longer eat bread. Honduras told the people "let them eat tortillas," not knowing that within a few weeks of this statement that the people could no longer afford the flour and cornmeal to make their tortillas. Teachers, universaties, transportation, and the people of the "popular block" (which are those who are considered middle class and below.....by far the overwhelming majority of the country) are marching and protesting today for change. Many of the major roads of the country are being blocked by demonstrators and military, which is why school is cancelled.

I've been thinking a lot about this situation, and I cannot think of a good resolve. Should the government be more involved? Less involved? Do we ask for more help from the U.S.? Do we need to depend less on foreign aid? I just don't know. I'm by no means an expert on such matters, but sometimes its hard to understand the way things work down here and why the country works the way it does after living 22 years of my life in the U.S.. I never feared that the U.S. would bottom out economically, I never feared severe military state in Vero Beach, and I never have known U.S. citizens so economically desperate that any and all actions would be taken in order to meet basic survival needs, and be met with nothing. Even after Hurricane Katrina, which reduced U.S. citizens to lead lives with the same desperation that many of the world's countries function with daily, there was still our government offering free aid to help the people recover and doing what they could to rectify the situation. I know that not everything done was perfect, but it was still there.

I am currently reading a book that is a journal of Henri Nouwen's mission and ministry in Latin America called Gracias, and the book takes place mainly in Peru & Bolivia during the late 80's and early 90's, when these countries shared economic profiles that are very similar to the current state of Honduras. This is a passage written in this book by Gerry McCrane, who was a third world bishop and wrote this for missionaries entering into Latin America accustomed to Western philosophy and democracy:

Walk with Us in Our Search

Help us discover our own riches; don't judge us poor because we lack what you have.

Help us discover our chains; don't judge us slaves by the type of shackles you wear.

Be patient with us as a people; don't judge us backward simply because we don't follow your stride.

Be patient with our pace; don't judge us lazy simply because we can't follow your tempo.

Be patient with our symbols; don't judge us ignorant because we can't read your signs.

Be with us and proclaim the richness of your life which you can share with us,

Be with us and be open to what we can give.

Be with us as a companion who walks with us--neither behind nor in front--in our search for life and ultimately for God.

This seemed touching for me and a good sentiment for me to end on with the current state of affairs here. Please continue to pray. If I am feeling definite economic strain (i.e. I am currently running out of money every month and living paycheck to paycheck, even though I have really stripped myself of any extra luxuries over the past few months) I can start to begin imagining what mothers must feel like when they can't pay for groceries for their families. Christ himself was humbled so that he may have empathy for the world, and because of his empathy he lived a life of service, ultimately giving of himself in the greatest act of empathy and humility that the world has ever seen. May we strive to follow this example and live a life of service and empathy, emptying ourselves for the betterment of others.

Volcan Pacaya

2008-04-12T20:25:00.008-06:00

Semana Santa Hostels

2008-04-10T23:16:00.008-06:00

Here are the two main places we stayed during Semana Santa. One might look familiar, and this is because last year I stayed at this amazing tree-house hostel on Lago Peten Itza in the northern jungles of Guatemala. This place is what inspired me to invite Dan & Ashley down to spend Semana Santa with me, and just like last year it was gorgeous and refreshing.

In Antigua, we stayed at a great little hostel called El Gato Negro (The Black Cat) which had wonderful ambience, great breakfast included, and fantastic music all day long.

Palm Sunday in Antigua

2008-04-10T22:03:00.010-06:00

Here are some of the promised pictures & video clips of Palm Sunday.

This was truly one of the most magical times of my life. I had never experienced anything like this before, and it was a beautiful recipe of equal parts culture and equal parts religious experience being mixed before my eyes. Pictures can only convey so much, but for me I know that I will remember this special moment for the rest of my life. Enjoy!

Guatemala once again, and this time intentionally.

2008-04-08T18:58:00.014-06:00

Semana Santa, which is the Holy Week leading up until Easter, is a highly celebrated and revered time in Latin America. Businesses close down, families travel, and as for me, I found myself in Guatemala once again with good friends, beautiful surroundings, and more exotic travels and memories than I know what to do with.

After picking up Dan & Ashley from the San Pedro Sula airport at 12:30 a.m., we slept a mere 3 hours before boarding a 7 hour bus to Guatemala City, where we would then take another short bus ride to the spectacularly maintained colonial city of Antigua. Antigua is known for a few things such as volcanoes and language school, but its big claim to fame are the elaborate processions that take place in the streets during Semana Santa. The streets are lined with intricately crafted carpets made of greenery, flowers, and colored sawdust that is meticulously placed only to be trampled by the parades of people carrying statues of Jesus, the Virgen Mary, and Mary Magdalene, not to mention a marching band playing a score of somber music in which to dedicate the event. These carpets are made, only to be trampled on and made again as the parades march for hours upon hours during Holy Week, with a non-stop parade from 12:00a.m. to 11:59 p.m. on Good Friday.

Since the pictures are so gorgeous, I'm going to let them speak for themselves. I will also post our volcano adventures as well as Antigua sights.

Pictures of some of the beautiful carpets

A few of the many historical cathedrals

Street-side breakfast on Palm Sunday--From our breakfast sight we were able to watch the palms being blessed by holy water in preparation for the procession. After walking in the procession, we took part in the Palm Sunday mass, which was simply & beautiful and clearly spoke the message of the significance of this day. We read the whole story of Jesus from the time He rode into Jerusalem on the donkey and was praised as "hosanna" until the time of his crucifixion. Many of you know that although this timeframe was only over the span of 6 days, it is chapter upon chapter in the Bible. We remained standing for the entirety, thinking somewhere along the time of the Last Supper "when are we going to sit down again??" and in the conclusion of the scripture reading the priest asked us if we were uncomfortable standing for so long. Many of us were thinking yes, (especially because it was like 25 minutes or so in the same place) and he pointed out that it was nothing when comparing the burden of being beaten, carrying the cross to your own death, and dying for a crime you never even committed. He then continued by saying that standing during the reading of the scripture is the least that we can do in recognition of the salvation that we have in Jesus Christ, and all of us were touched. I felt really fantastic in being humbled in that manner and the feeling continued on throughout the whole day as we saw the somber processions in which these heavy, cumbersome floats of Jesus carrying his own cross were seen parading throughout the cobblestone streets for hours upon end. These processions were so cool that I would like to dedicate their own special posting to them, which you will see after this one.

Madrina

2008-03-10T19:23:00.003-06:00

Here's a quick little story.

One day at the feeding center I had a mother of a 8 year-old girl come and grab my hand, and lead me around the building. She pushed a piece of paper into my hand, and asked if I would buy her daughter's school supplies because she had no money. School just started a couple of weeks ago, and the list included things like notebooks, a dictionary, colored pencils, and somewhat normal school supplies. I could not turn her down, but I knew that my personal money was low and that I would not be paid for another week or so. At the time it seemed like a big $20 sacrifice, but this past Saturday I went to the feeding center once again, and once again I was pulled around the back of the building so that no one could see us. She gave me a huge hug, and brought out her daughter who called me "Madrina Micaela," which means Godmother. They said that they now pray for me every night in their house.

Worth every centavo.

Let Us Commence

2008-03-06T18:58:00.003-06:00

Lately I have been reading a lot of Anne Lamott, which for now seems to be a great cure for my current state of funk. As I stated in the last post, I have a lot of things on my mind and I lot of things that I need prayer for. What I'm currently trying to do and pursue is to essentially beat the odds and create a life for myself where nothing is easy. But I have never done something just because it was easy, and in fact, have probably done the opposite. Its hard though when your heart is alive while living in a third world country feeding the poor, knowing that the gnawing truth inside you cries out to give up more and more of yourself and your desires to gather things closely around you that give you the illusion of being happy. Clothes, shoes, pedicures, insurance policies, whatever it may be. As I feel myself digging deeper and deeper into this heart-cry of mine, I also find myself seeking a lot of spiritual counseling and a lot of time with God. Sometimes all I want is confirmation that I haven't lost my mind, that I haven't tortured my family by my choices, and that I'm walking in the path that God has laid out before me.

In my readings, I came across this chapter by Anne Lamott, who is currently one of my favorite authors. I read this chapter, had tears well up in my eyes, and decided to post it. This is where I'm at, and I feel like this is a little dose of advice that many of us could use on a daily basis. Enjoy!

This must be a magical day for you. I wouldn't know. I accidentally forgot to graduate from college. I meant to, thirty some years ago, but things got away from me. I did graduate from high school--do I get partial credit for that?--Although, unfortunately, my father had forgotten to pay the book bill, so at the graduation ceremony when I opened the case to look at my diploma, it was empty. Except for a ransom note that said -See Mrs. Foley, the bookkeeper, if you ever want to see your diploma alive again.

I went to Goucher College in Maryland for the best possible reason--to learn--but dropped out at 19 for the best possible reason--to become a writer. Those of you who have read my work know that instead, I accidentally became a Kelly girl for awhile. Then, in a dazzling career move, I got hired as a clerk typist in the Nuclear Quality Assurance Department at Bechtel, where I worked as a typist and sorted triplicate forms. I hate to complain, but it was not very stimulating work. However, it paid the bills, so I could write my stories every night when I got home. I worked at Bechtel for 6 months, but I swear that I had nothing to do with the company's involvement in the Bush administration's shameless war profiteering. I just sorted triplicate forms.

It was a terrible job, at which I did a terrible job, but it paid $600 a month, which, augmented by food stamps, was enough to pay my rent & grocery bills. This is a real problem if you are crazy enough to be an artist (**sidenote** or a missionary in MY case)--you have to give up your dreams of swimming pools and fish forks and take any old job. At 20, I was hired as an assistant editor at a magazine; I think that was the last real job I've had.

I bet I'm making some parents nervous---here I am, bragging of being a dropout & unemployable & about to make a pitch for you to follow your creative dreams, when what parents want for their kids is to do well in their field, to make them look good, and maybe assemble a tasteful fortune.

But that is not your problem. Your problem is how you are going to spend this one odd and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to live it trying to look good and create the illusion that you have control and power over people and circumstances, or whether you are goingto taste it, enjoy it, and find out the truth about who you are.

At some point I started getting published, and experienced a meager knock-kneed standing in the literary world, & I started to get almost everything that many of you graduates are hoping for--except for the money. I got lots of things that society had promised would make me whole and fulfilled, all the things that culture tells you from preschool on will quiet the throbbing anxiety inside of you. I got some stature, the respect of other writers, even a low-grade fame. The culture says these things will save you, as long as you manage to keep your weight down. But the culture lies.

Slowly, after dozens of rejection slips & failures & false starts and postponed dreams--what Langston Hughes called "dreams deferred"--I stepped onto the hallowed ground of being a published novelist, and then, fifteen years later, I started to make some real money.

I'd wanted to be a writer my whole life. But when I finally made it, I felt like a greyhound catching the mechanical rabbit she'd been chasing for so long--discovering it was merely metal wrapped up in cloth. It wasn't alive; it had no spirit. It was fake. Fake doesn't feed anything. Only spirit feeds spirit, your own & the universal spirit, in the same way that only your blood type (and O negative, the universal donor) can sustain you. "Making it" had nothing that could slake the thirst I had for immediacy and connection.

From the wise old pinnacle of my years, I can tell you that what you're looking for is already inside you. You've heard this before, but the holy thing inside you really is that which causes you to seek it. You can't buy it, lease it, rent it, date it, or apply for it. The best job in the world can't give it to you. Neither can success, or fame, or financial security--besides which, there ain't no such thing. John D. Rockefeller was once asked "How much money is enough?" and he answered, "Just a little bit more."

It can be confusing--most of your parents want you to do well, to be successful. They want you to be happy, or at least happyish. And they want you to be nicer to them, just a little nicer--is that so much to ask??

They want you to love, and be loved, and find peace, and laugh and find meaningful work. But they also, some of them--a few of them (not yours of course, yours are fine)--they want you to chase the bunny for awhile. To get ahead, sock away some money, & then find balance between the bunny chase and savoring your life.

But you don't know whether you're going to live long enough to slow down, relax, have fun, and discover the truth of your spiritual identity. You may not be destined to live a long life; you may not have 60 more years to discover & claim your own deepest truth. As Breaker Morant said, you have to live every day as if it's your last, because one of these days you're bound to be right.

It might help if I go ahead and tell you what I think is the truth of your spiritual identity.....

Actually, I don't have a clue.

I do know you are not what you look like, or how much you weigh, or how you did in school, or whether you start a job next Monday or not. Spirit isn't what you do, it's...well, again, I don't actually know. They probably taught this junior year at Goucher College; I should have stuck around. But I know that you feel it best when you're not doing much--when you're in nature, when you're very quiet, or paradoxically, listening to music.

I know you feel it and hear it in the music you love, in the bass line and in the harmonies, in the silence between notes: in Chopin & Eminem, Emmylou Harris, Neil Young, Bach, whomever. You can close your eyes and feel the divine spark concentrated in you, like a little Dr. Seuss firefly. It flickers with life and relief, like an American in a foreign country who suddenly hears someone speaking English. In the Christian tradition, they say that the soul rejoices in hearing what it already knows. And so you pay attention when that Dr. Seuss creature inside you lights up and strains to hear.

We can see spirit made visible when people are kind to one another, especially when it's a really busy person, like you, taking care of a needy, annoying, neurotic person, like you. In fact, that's often when we see spirit most brightly.

Its magic to see spirit, largely because it's so rare. Mostly you see the masks and the holograms that the culture presents as real. You see how you're doing in the world's eyes, or you family's, or worse of all--yours, or in the eyes of people who are doing better than you--much better than you--or worse.

But you are not your bank account, or your ambition. You're not the cold clay lump you leave behind when you die. You're not you collection of walking personality disorders. You are spirit, you are love, and even though its hard to believe sometimes, you are free. You're here to love and be loved, freely. If you find out next week that you are terminally ill--and we're all terminally ill on this bus--what will matter are memories of beauty, that people loved you, and that you loved them.

So how do we nourish and feed our spirit and the spirit of others?

First find a path, and a little light to see by. Then push up your sleeves and start helping. Every single spiritual tradition says that you must take care of the poor or you're so doomed that not even Jesus or the Buddha can help you.

You don't have to go far. There are people all around you who are poor in spirit, worried, depressed, dancing as fast as they can; their kids are sick, or their retirement savings are gone. There is a great loneliness among us, life-threatening loneliness. People have given up on peace, on equality. They've even given up on the Democratic party, which I haven't, not by a long shot. You do what you can, what good people have always done; you bring thirsty people water, you share your food, you try to help the homeless find shelter, and you stand up for the underdog.

I secretly believe that this makes Jesus love you more.

Rest and laughter are the most spiritual and subversive acts of all. Laugh, rest, slow down. Some of you start jobs on Monday; some of you wish you did; some of your parents are asthmatic with anxiety that you don't. They shared this with me before the ceremony began.

I would recommend that you all take a deep breath, and stop. Just be where your butts are, and breathe. Take some time. You are graduating today. Refuse to cooperate with anyone who is trying to shame you into hopping right back up onto the rat exercise wheel.

Rest, but pay attention. Refuse to cooperate with anyone who is stealing you freedome, your personal and civil liberties, and then smirking about it. I'm not going to name names.

But slow down. Better yet, lie down.

In my 20's I devised a school of relaxation that has unfortunately fallen out of favor in the ensuing years--it was called Prone Yoga. You just lay around as much as possible. You could read, listen to music, you could space out or sleep. But you had to be lying down. Maintaining the prone.

You've graduated. You have nothing left to prove, and besides, it's a fool's game. If you agree to play, you've already lost. Its Charlie Brown & Lucy with the football. If you keep getting back on the field, they win. There are so many great things to do right now. Write. Sing. Rest. Eat cherries. Register voters. And--oh my God--I nearly forgot the most important things: Refuse to wear uncomfortable pants, even if they make you look really thin. Promise me you'll never wear pants that bind or tug or hurt, pants that have an opinion about how much you've just eaten. The pants may be lying! There is way too much lying and scolding going on politically right now without having your pants get in on the act too.

So bless you. You've done an amazing thing. And you are loved; you are capable of lives of great joy and meaning. It's what you're made of. And it's what you're here for. Take care of yourselves; take care of one another. And always give thanks like this: Thank you.

Life Update

2008-03-06T16:40:00.007-06:00

I know that it has been awhile since I have updated anyone on how my life is, and for anyone else who knows me and is not currently in my circle of frequently seen people (a.k.a. roommates, co-workers, boyfriend, etc.) I have been leaving you all in the dark as to my current state of being.

Amongst first glances, I must obviously be doing alright if I am sitting in front of my computer on a Thursday afternoon and in fine condition to coherently string thoughts together and physically type them out. So, for those of you worried that I might have had a serious injury or be lying dead in a ditch somewhere, your minds may be put to ease. I also have not fallen off the face of the earth, because I am sure that if one were to do so, typing up a life update on a blog would not be possible.

I will give you a quick re-cap of my life on a usual basis. I wake up at 5:50 even though my alarm is set for 5:30, and I usually take a hot shower (which is so nice and really a luxury here in Honduras) and I eat my breakfast and pack my lunch which usually consists of 80% fresh fruit and vegetables that we buy at the market. We ride the school bus with the kids in the morning, but because I don't get car sick I can read my bible and do my devotions for the 45 minute ride that I have each morning. As soon as I arrive at school, I'm usually bombarded with my kids from the moment I step off the bus. This is another reason why I like to do my devotions on the bus ride, so I can meet these kids and their tales of pushing and shoving without wanting to bite their precious little heads off. I teach 22 kindergarteners, and they can be quite a handful. Compared to last year, my students this year are exponentially more difficult, but I must say that the improvements that I have seen are quite spectacular and are finally starting to provide me with encouragement that I am not this awful, wretched teacher that sometimes I feel like I am. Above all things, they know that they are loved and they are learning to read, write, add, subtract, and speak English. Something okay must be going on then, right?

After being gone from the house for about 9 hours, I usually arrive home to grab something to eat, shed any evidence that I am a kindergarten teacher (i.e. teacher bag, washing paint from under my nails, changing my clothes, etc.) and run out the door again to any number of things. It may be a free jazz concert sponsored by the French Embassy, an independent movie at my favorite little bohemian coffee shop, my salsa class with the magnificent Lula, kickboxing with Christian, or just a day full of errands. I feel as if I have settled into this almost predictable pattern of life, but there is something extremely comforting in routine. We have even given certain days of the week names according to our routine. For example, Saturdays have been appropriately re-named "Wellness Saturday." We start the morning off at a respectable time (usually about 8 a.m.) by going to the market for enough fresh fruits and vegetables to feed a small pueblo. We come home, purify our goodies (which at this time happens to be the season for cantaloupes, honeydew, & mango), and change to go to our pilates class. After sweating profusely in our non-air conditioned gym, I shower and quickly change to head out to the feeding centers. Wellness for mind, body, and soul. On Sundays, I go to a church that meets in a movie theater, sing on the praise and worship team, and usually spend a low-key day trying not to think about the fact that in just a few hours, I will once again be bombarded with tales of pushing and shoving.

So, that is a basic re-cap of a fairly ordinary week. Here is the latest news...

I am very excited about starting a discipleship program for some of the older girls who attend the feeding centers but are too old to really get anything out of our little kid lessons about Noah's Ark or Daniel & the Lion's Den. After going to the feeding centers almost every Saturday since May 2007, I have really began to become connected with many of the children there. I know many of them by name, their family situation, what grade they are in at school, and where their houses are. For some time now, I have really felt in my heart that something more needs to be done for the older girls (age 12 and up) that the feeding center is currently not able to provide. Having lived in the culture for some time now, I can see that for many of these girls, they are left with no other options than to 1. Move in with a man who will promise them a wonderful future 2. Become impregnated 3. Find that in reality that he cannot provide for them, let alone them and their baby, and 4. Probably has at least one other woman that he is seeing. These girls are so beautiful and in so many ways so innocent, and I feel like I am left with no other option but to do something. So far, that something is just to pull the girls outside during the little kid's lesson, have a small but meaningful Bible study, and just listen to them. I'm not really sure what it is that I can really do, but I do know what God can do and I just try to be faithful when He presses things upon my heart. Melvin is currently doing the same sort of thing with the older boys, and its really special to feel like together we are sharing a ministry and outreach. Actually, I think its pretty stinkin' cute if you ask me.

Slightly related to this, I have also been feeling for sometime the itch to begin driving here. It has taken some time to feel this because quite honestly, driving can be overwhelming when you first arrive. Primarily, people are maniacs on the road. Passing on blind mountain curves? Sure! Driving on the sidewalk to not wait in a turn lane? Why not? But surprisingly, I see far fewer accidents here than in the States. In addition to maniacal driving, I also need to learn to drive stickshift in the madness, and in a mountainous city. For about a year and a half, taking busses and taxis has been sufficient for my needs, but as my needs have shifted so have my aforementioned driving fears. Mainly, I would like a car so that I can continue to go to the Feeding Centers and be more available for ministry purposes than I currently am. To drive to the centers, you have to have something with major power, something not all that short of a tank or an army jeep. After praying about this for awhile, I was approached by a missionary who works at Pinares that wants to sell me his Land Cruiser because he knows the work and ministry that I do outside of school. I have even told him that I don't really think that I have the money for this, and he has still come back to me, after lowering the price by $500, and says that in his heart, he feels that God is telling him that He wants me to have this car. It has double four-wheel drive, was designed for the Australian outback, and is basically indestructable. So, I guess I'm looking at maybe being the future owner of a Land Cruiser? That is, of course, if God can help provide. Luckily though this missionary is not leaving until almost August, will accept payments, and I will receive bonus pay at the end of this school year. Still, having to make this sort of decision is difficult, especially in a foreign country and especially on my own. I could really use your prayers about this. Actually, I could really use your prayers about a lot of things. If you promise to keep praying for me, I'll promise to be better at updating. Promise.

Santa Lucia

2008-01-20T21:34:00.000-06:00

For approximately 50 weeks out of a year, many small pueblos (villages) lay dormant in their small town charm and excitement. But for those other 2 weeks out of the year, these small pueblos have a town fair, or feria en espanol, that brings life and celebration to the town in a way that really captures all of its beautiful red-tile qualities and charm. This beautiful little town, named Santa Lucia, lies about 15 minutes outside of Tegucigalpa, the capital city. Santa Lucia is located approximately 5,000 ft above sea level, and is surrounded by pine forests, the same forests that actually surround Academia Los Pinares. When going on our hike after school up the mountains, you can actually see the little white dots of the houses in Santa Lucia from our mountaintop view.
During Colonial times, the mountains around this town were mined for quite a time, and the town became important to the Spanish crown because of this. During the late XVI century, the king of Spain ordered a crucifix of Christ built for the local church. Today, although the church suffered many modifications and expansions until its present building, which was finished just prior to the independence of Honduras in the 1800's, the figure of Christ donated by the Spanish crown in 1574 still remains. The thing more noteworthy about this crucifix is not the the king of Spain donated it, but rather that it was thought to be a black Jesus. The black Jesus of Santa Lucia became somewhat of an icon, and it wasn't discovered until later that it was not truly black, but rather just in need of a good cleaning after several hundred years of grime.
This past Sunday Melvin and I along with Leah and three girls from church all went to Santa Lucia to visit the feria and to take opportunity of a beautiful, sunny day to walk around a darling little town, eat Honduran fair food (which some can be quite excellent) and enjoy the mountain view. In the last picture posted, you can see the nightlights of Tegucigalpa from the overlook of Santa Lucia's coffeeshop. Enjoy!

Sushi Anyone?

2008-01-20T20:30:00.000-06:00

This past Friday we had a cozy night at home learning how to make sushi with Enrique, the guitar player from our church. Our in house chef, Melvin, has been dying to know how, and I have been dying to let him make me sushi. Since I arrived in Honduras, I would say that on average sushi is consumed 3 times a month, and now having gained this sushi making knowledge, much more is to be expected. Much fun was had, lots of sushi was eaten, and it was perhaps the most fun Friday night at home that I've had in a long time. Enjoy these pictures!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2008-01-13T17:43:00.002-06:00

For some, it may come as a surprise that I am a BIG David Bowie fan. Even though he is in his 50's, has worn more eye make-up than I probably will ever wear collectively in my lifetime, and acquired most of his fame putting out an album almost exclusively about aliens, I cannot help but love him. I also decided a few years ago that if it is possible, I would like to walk down the aisle to an instrumental trio of "Life on Mars" (Before you judge me too harshly, just listen to it, disregarding the words, and tell me that it doesn't have the perfect build-up for that once-in-a-lifetime entrance.). I bring this up not to share my fondness for David Bowie, but rather to use some of his lyrics to help clarify my current status...or at least explain why I named my latest posting as such.....I promise I don't have a stutter.

"I still don't know what I was waiting for

And my time was running wild

A million dead-end streets

Every time I thought I'd got it made

It seemed the taste was not so sweet

So I turned myself to face me

But I've never caught a glimpse

Of how the others must see the faker

I'm much too fast to take that test

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes(Turn and face the strain)

Ch-ch-Changes

Don't want to be a richer man

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes(Turn and face the strain)

Ch-ch-Changes

Just gonna have to be a different man

Time may change me

But I can't trace time

Okay, so maybe its a little random and dramatic, but the sentiment remains the same. Life changes, people change, and there have been some changes since my last entry. I suppose I will start with the most noteworthy, and that would be Melvin, my boyfriend of 5 months. A lot of you reading this know about him, but I should give a decent recount of things and keep everyone up to pace.

I first met him the first time I visited the Feeding Centers with Manos Extendidas (he volunteers out there every Saturday) on February 24th, 2006 (I remember this date so fondly because it was my 23rd birthday) and we were friends for a long time. Then we were friends in denial. And then I went to the U.S. to visit my family for 2 weeks in July, came back in August determined to tell him we could only be friends after a very surprising late night phone call in which he said he missed me terribly. I met with him the first day I was back, broke the news to him that I am not looking for a relationship, and within one week of returning to Honduras I went back on my word and we were officially dating. I have been very happy since that fateful day when we both said "let's give this a try."

Now with me, simplicity is something that I strive for materialistically, but it is not a reality when it comes to my personal life and relationships.... (i.e. there is always some kind of news and some kind of excitement floating about) and so it is with Melvin and I. After a few months dating, my family wanted desperately to know this boy who was occupying so much of my time, so we decided to visit my family together for the Christmas holidays. For many people who are citizens of other countries, especially those seen as "developing," the United States will not let them enter the country on a passport alone, but only after being issued a visa from the government. Let me tell you folks, this is not an easy process. It costs quite a bit of money, there are many components, applications, and papers that must be submitted, and then there is a nerve-racking interview with a U.S. consulate that literally rejects hundreds of people daily for visas. Especially from Latin America. The odds were stacked against us because usually having the right money and the right last name are your only ticket into the U.S., but God smiled upon us (after much prayer) and he allowed Melvin to have a visa to visit the U.S.. It probably helped too that his Christian school kindergarten teacher girlfriend came with him to the interview (which they almost never allow anoyone to accompany you during the interview) and I'm sure looking at the two of us together some major cute points were scored. So, we went to the U.S. for two weeks, met the family, and I must say that he did wonderfully under extraordinary pressure, even boldly sharing his testimony in English to the people in my church who were trying to analyze who it was that I was dating and saw worthy of bringing home to meet the parents.

Upon first glances, Melvin and I seem like we are worlds apart, and if someone were to ask me who I could picture myself with, there would be many things mentioned that do not apply to Melvin whatsoever. I'm sure if you'd ask him too, he'd say likewise with me. But as you begin to peel back the superficial layers, something much more profound is revealed. God has a way of doing that, where he takes your preconceived ideas and turns them into something completely unrecognizable from their initial state. He does the same with us too. When I first began talking about changes, I can see looking back how God has completely changed me, to where I feel like the person I was 2 years ago is only a poor imitation of who I am now. I just thank God that I allowed myself the opportunity to be changed, uncomfortable as it was at times and still is. If I denied God the opportunity, I would have missed out on the wonderful things that I can see he had in store for me, and I truly believe that Melvin is one of them, as mushy as that sounds. I can say these things because its true, and also because I'm certain he will never read this. God is like the ultimate interior decorator, but he does not stop with a quick coat of paint--he completely guts entire wings of our soul to make room for the design he has for each and every one of us. And while remodeling is uncomfortable and awkward, I am sure that everyone can agree that it is worth it. Completamente vale la pena.

Here are some pictures from Night of Lights in Downtown St. Augustine. The other pictures taken are around the fort, where Melvin and I brought a picnic lunch and rode bikes to sit on the wall of the fort to look at the bay.

Cayos Cochinos...otherwise known as yet another fantastic tropical paradise vacation taken on a long weekend. Man, do I love my life here!

2007-10-30T22:46:00.000-06:00

There are many things that one has to get used to when living in a different country. Language, cultural differences, public transportation, extreme poverty, etc. But one of those things that I do not think I will ever quite get used to are the awesome weekend trips that my friends and I are able to take. Recently, we were given an extra day off school in celebration of Columbus discovering the Americas, and on our three day weekend we lived in up, once again, and traveled to La Ceiba and the Cayos Cochinos (a group of islands in the Caribbean) for what I believe to be the best ever 3-day weekend.

We first started our adventure by once again riding horses from our hotel to these fantastic natural hotsprings where we were able to completely relax under the hot waterfall in the middle of a tropical jungle.

The rest of these pictures are taken from the Cayos Cochinos, which are part of the island chain that form Roatan and Utila as well. But unlike Roatan and Utila, these islands are almost completely uninhabited, which in turn for us means that we were able to play around in our own tropical beach islands without seeing another tourist or having to pay tourist prices. How much did this all cost you may ask? For chartering our own private boat to take us to islands 1 hour off the coast, go island hopping, and have a great fresh grilled fish and plantain meal on the beach, we each paid about $25. We were literally there all day, and the boat picked us up and dropped us off in front of the hotel.

The island where we ate our delicious meal is inhabited by the Garifuna, which are Afro-Caribes who have managed to keep a lot of their heritage. They speak a form of Creole that is a combination of Spanish, English, and native languages. Resources are limited on the island, but remarkably they did have electrical wires that reached the island.

Enjoy these pictures!

Shampoo Ginger!....a.k.a. pt. 6 of Weekend Update

2007-09-24T19:08:00.000-06:00

A small commercial that Leah and I made while on our weekend adventure. And it really worked too!

pt. 5

2007-09-24T18:42:00.000-06:00

pt. 4

2007-09-24T18:32:00.000-06:00

pt. 3

2007-09-23T19:38:00.000-06:00

Weekend Update pt. 2...Video Documentation

2007-09-21T16:04:00.000-06:00

Weekend Update

2007-09-19T22:38:00.000-06:00

Okay, for right now I am just going to post the pictures from my last adventuresome weekend with some brief captions. I promise though I will give a detailed account in the next few days to come, so please check back for more updates!

Woe is me. Yet another weekend relaxing in a hammock in the middle of a tropical jungle.

Weekend out at Lago de Yojoa, located 3 1/2 hours outside of Tegucigalpa. This boat featured here (yes, the one with all of the water in it...rainwater we were told) is what we rowed out for 4 hours into the lake. Leah saw an island in the lake that she really wanted to go to, and islands seem to be much closer than they usually appear.

Nothing like going to a restaurant where you have to look into the freezer to pick out your very own fish to fry up. Decisions decisions...

Hiking through the jungle and taking in some amazing views as well as some waterfall swims.

Yeah, all of these beautiful (and not quite so beautiful) things grow here in the the jungle. Notice the nice wild blueberries, wild coffee, wild flowers, and wild bugs.

The infamous shampoo ginger. We actually used our bounty of the natural shampoo to wash our hair with while bathing in the waterfall. Does that sound like an Herbal Essences commercial or what??? (Speaking of, please check out our own video commercial in the next post featuring our favorite new product...Shampoo Ginger!)

Walking down to Pulhapansak, the largest waterfall in Honduras. Simply gorgeous.

Before...

And after as I clumsily slip on the observation deck which is continually kept wet, and muddy with all of the waterfall mist. I cannot remember the last time I wiped out so bad. Leah thought it was hilarious and whipped out her camera to take a picture. Just slightly after laughing at me, Leah then fell 2 times on the deck. Gotta love irony.

Good thing I had the foresight to take my waterfall glamour shots before heading to the deck!

2 little anecdotes...

2007-09-14T16:06:00.000-06:00

I often times find myself in situations where I think to myself, I need to write this down so I can remember this funny little memory. Usually, the moment passes or I just completely forget, and so the memory is lost. This time, I happened to remember, so I hope you enjoy.

Yesterday I was in a taxi on my way to meet a friend, and I saw two police officers on the side of the road with a man they had in custody. Since traffic was backed up, I got to sit and watch the scene unfold for a minute. The police wanted to arrest this shirtless man for one reason or another, but did not have any handcuffs on him. So what did this enforcer of the law do? He took the shoelaces out of one of his boots and tied his wrists together with a shoelace.

Later that day, I was taking a taxi back to my house. Here people are pretty expressive with their cars, and taxis are no exception. They will do all kinds of creative re-wiring so that their horns have special sounds or are ultra sensitive so they may play an intricate rhythym on it (sometimes they will re-wire the up/down button for the window to become the horn, or their turn signal, etc.). Anyways, this taxi re-wired it so that everytime he pressed on the brake there was a light inside the car that would illuminate. It just so happened to be a set of praying hands that would light up, and I thought to myself that maybe this taxi driver is trying to tell me something, like that I should pray everytime he applies the brakes. I don't know if that was something that should be comforting or alarming.

Anyways, these thoughts just made me laugh to myself just a little.

Hurricane Update

2007-09-12T21:39:00.000-06:00

Well, it has been a week since the hurricane passed over Tegucigalpa, and I feel like a detailed account of everything that has happened is due. So, here I go.

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Well, that about sums it up. Nothing. Remarkably, miraculously, nothing. At this time last week I was having to think in terms of how I was going to survive this. In Florida we are used to hurricanes, but we think of them in terms of inconvenience. "It will be difficult to be without power for awhile." "I have to board my house." "Will I really have to take cold showers?" "How long will the phone lines be out?" But after hearing the truly horrifying stories that everyone has from Hurricane Mitch and the 11,000 people it killed (of which there are still reminders on every damaged building/bridge/shantytown that has still not fully recovered 9 years since Mitch wreaked havoc on the country), I began to feel scared. Real scared. This hurricane was a strong category 5 coming right for us, and in a city where a few inches of rain mean lives lost due to flooding and mudslides, the forecasted 25 inches in 24 hours was terrifying. Suddenly I was having to think "What will I do if my first floor of my house is flooded out and I am trapped on the second floor with bars over all of my windows?" "How can 3 girls possibly protect themselves by themselves when there are people desperate and willing to do anything that is necessary for their own survival?" "What will we do without weeks and possibly months of clean water since there is no sanitation or waste system in the country?" Probably the scariest thought though was those involving the children from the feeding center in the poorest part of the city, which is also the area most susceptible to landslides and least accessible to emergency services. When I began thinking about them, my heart began to break. How are people expected to protect themselves by buying extra supplies when they can't even afford the necessities of daily life? How are people expected to somehow buy clean water to drink when they don't even have that luxury during everyday life? How are they ever to be expected to "hunker down" (what does this word mean anyways? People only use it in times of hurricanes, and yet I really don't know what that means...) and ride out the category 5 hurricane when a simple storm during rainy season could wash away their shack of a home? To say that I was scared is an underestimate...

Before ever coming to Honduras to live the one deal that my parents and I had was that if a major hurricane was coming my way that I would get on the first plane out of here, and things happened so quickly to where the night before it was a category 2 storm that was going to barely skim the coast and hit Belize to a full-fledge stronger than Hurricane Andrew & Katrina storm coming directly for me. There was no time to react, only enough time to chase down a water truck with our car to buy some of the last bottled water available in the city.

We prepared ourselves, had a great little pre-hurricane party, and went to bed expecting that when we woke we would be within the midst of a life-altering storm. But as we woke in the morning, there was no noise. There was no rain. There was, in fact, even a little bit of sun. The storm somehow split into a "V" to where the top half remained along the coast, and the bottom half trailed into the Pacific Ocean. It was amazing, and completely puzzling at the same time. Tegucigalpa was spared from having its 2nd completely devastating act of nature in 10 years. Thank you so much for those who prayed for us. I just recently found out that the night of the storm all of the area churches opened their doors to anyone who needed shelter, and that they held around the clock prayer vigils for the impending storm. I think God knew that there was no way that poor little Tegucigalpa could handle something like this, and praise Him that the only thing that came raining down in the hurricane was his mercy. And this nasty smelling fruit from our neighbor's tree that hangs over our patio...but that is a story for another time.

Thank you for your prayers.

Oh crap.

2007-09-04T08:15:00.000-06:00

There is a massive hurricane coming right over us. Category 5. Oh crap.

Amapala

2007-08-27T18:43:00.001-06:00

If only every job could be like this...

We have been working really hard these last couple of weeks setting up our classrooms and preparing for the new school year. For those of you who are not teachers, it doesn't sound like a big deal. But for those of you who are or are married to a teacher can attest to the immense amount of work that is put into beginning of the year set-up. The younger the grade, the more the set-up as well. After all of the painting and repairs that are done during the summer in the classrooms, you basically start from scratch again, even if you are in the same grade and same classroom like I was. I was also nominated grade-level chairperson (not bad for a 2nd year teacher), which meant extra meetings that took away classroom set-up time. After working probably 55-60 hours the week before school started, I was able to finally let out a sigh of relief as my kids walked into the classroom on the first day of school. But oh yeah, they are super little, don't speak English, and puked on my beautiful beaded sandals all on the first week (no joke). I say all this to somewhat justify a small weekend vacation that was taken after two weeks of work. Yes, it was only 2 weeks, but it was a super-hard two weeks in which if a small break was not taken soon, burn-out would occur. This past Friday I was handed a slip of paper that stated there would be no school on Monday due to scheduled strikes within the country. I have mentioned the strikes before, and when groups demonstrate (doctors, teachers, public transportation, etc.) the country really is crippled. So, as to not spend our entire weekend in the house, Leah and I along with our housemate Elisa decided to drive to a small island in the Pacific Coast that proved to be one of the most relaxing weekends that I have ever experienced.

Truly a diamond in the rough, the island is inhabited by only about 2,000 people, and best of all, there are no tourists. Once a U.S. naval station and outlook tower during the contra wars in the 1980's (since its strategic position in the bay that allows it to see Honduras, Nicaragua, & El Salvador), after the U.S. pull-out it was left to sort of struggle and become more and more run-down due to the tropical ocean climate as well as the pull-out of money. (Hint: Click on the map, find the Golfo de Fonseca on the Pacific side, and look at the little islands. This is where we were...so small they aren't even labeled on the map!) However, recent attempts have been made though to restore the island, and even in its disrepair, it had a wonderful island charm that allowed us to relax to the fullest as well as swim in the Pacific Ocean once again. Enjoy the pictures!

Mmmmm......Delicious local seafood. This fish, like the island, is not completlely appealing by just looks alone, but as you take it in, you realize just how great it really is.

La Ceiba

2007-08-27T18:37:00.001-06:00

After teaching my first week of Summer School, I had the best weekend of my life. Literally. This was the coolest weekend I have ever had, and I feel that if I were to die tomorrow and God were to ask me what the top 3 favorite life experiences, I feel like this would be in there. Since I finished Thursday at 11:30, Leah, Jen & I boarded a bus to the Caribbean coast to the town of La Ceiba, which is a great little beach town that has attractions, yet is not completely Disney-ized and over-run by tourists.

It pretty much took all of Thursday to travel to La Ceiba since it was about 6-7 hours in a bus. However, we have really come to enjoy the bus rides and use them as part of the relaxation of traveling so that from the moment we arrive to our destination until the moment we leave, we can live it up and absorb as much as we can, leaving the sleeping to the busses. Friday morning, after waking up at the beautiful Hotel Canadien

(which cost us each about $9), we had a wonderful breakfast of fresh tropical fruit, beans, eggs, tortillas, avocado, and unlimited orange juice and coffee, all for the whopping price of $2. Plus, the view from the second story deck of the hotel wasn't bad either. After breakfast, Leah, Jen, and I hit the beach for a little time in the sun and in the water. The view was amazing, with cloud covered tropical mountains literally stretching all the way to the coastline. Floating in the ocean and looking out over this sight, I couldn't help but just think of how good God is for giving us such a beautiful creation. Too often we fail to recognize that God is beauty and perfection, and this was just a small reminder of that.

After spending some time relaxing, the three of us made buddies with a taxi driver who offered to be our personal chauffeur for the weekend (for just the right price) and drove us out to the Pico Bonito National Park where we would go white water rafting on

the Rio Cangrejal. It has been a long, long time since I had been white water rafting, but with the water being the perfect temperature and with the coolest river guide ever (Juan Carlos) I knew we would be in good hands. Since we went rafting during the rainy season, the river was about 2-3 feet higher than normal, which made for the highest category for rapids that there is. We had an AMAZING time and felt like we completely got our money's worth on this one. I wish I could completely share just how beautiful it was there within the national park, but I suppose you will have to take my word for it and look at the pictures knowing that they are only more fantastic in real life.

So, if this was all that we did when we were in La Ceiba, it still would have been a fantastic weekend. However, we had one more day and we managed to also ride horses from our hotel up this gigantic mountain and took zip-lines down through the jungle canopy. I have NEVER done anything like this before (both horse-riding as well as attaching myself by a cable around my waist to fly through the air at 35 miles per hour through a jungle), and just thinking about this, writing about this adventure a couple of months afterwards, I still cannot help but smiling. We went down on a total of 13 cables, and after each one we had to unhook ourselves, walk out on the platform, and jump up to hook ourselves onto the next one, and zip through to the next platform. In addition to seeing the beautiful Cayos Cochinos Islands in the Caribbean from our mountain-top perch, we were also able to see natural hotsprings and waterfalls inside the jungle, as well as a variety of plant and animal life that only belongs to this part of the world.

We were also sure to partake in the famous seafood of the area for nearly every meal, and definitely made the most out of our whirl-wind weekend trip.

While I was in Florida during this summer visiting family and friends, the million dollar question was "Macayla, when are you coming back??" Look at these pictures my friends...they will speak for themselves.

What I Did This Summer...

2007-08-27T18:32:00.000-06:00

I will give a quick run-down as to what I was so consumed with this summer that I did not post anything for a small lifetime...

1. Kindergarten graduation. I know that I put on a big post with pictures and videos from the grand event, but it really did take a lot out of me. That, combined with just ending a school year, made me feel like I was in need of a break.

2. Summer School. When one feels overwhelmed and needs a good break from school for awhile, what do you do? Teach summer school. Okay, that did not make much sense in that context, but it really was a nice way to have something to occupy my days (Mon-Thurs. from 8:00-11:30 for 3 weeks) as well as put a little extra money in the bank. So, while summer school kept me busy during the mornings, I was kept busy in the afternoons by...

3. Moving. Moving is always a mixed feeling for me. On one hand, it is always fun because I have something fresh & new in store for me in the near future. On the other hand, its horrible because it is moving. This move was kept entertaining though because I had to do it riding public transportation, taking one suitcase and one back-pack full of things at a time down from El Hatillo to my new neighborhood in the city. I would spend half of my time in El Hatillo and the other half of my time in the new house, and yet I was having a great time living this sort of half life with half of my stuff.

4. Working with Manos Extendidas. The main reason that I felt like I needed to stay for a good portion of the summer is that I feel like my free time with pay is something that God has blessed me with, so I want to use it in serving others. I just couldn't see myself hanging around the U.S. with all of its malls and shopping for more than two weeks, and my friends are rather scattered now since college so I really couldn't travel to one area (like St. Augustine) and see a ton of my friends. But anyways, with my free time I did a lot of volunteering with the feeding centers as well as get to know the staff much better, which was really great.

5. Manos Extendidas Benefit Night. One would think that with only two weeks in the states that I would be relaxing the whole time with nothing to do but read, spend time with friends, and become a bronzed beach goddess. While all of these things are great, I cannot keep still and cannot be without something to do for more than 3 or 4 days. Leah and I planned a HUGE benefit night for the organization, and we were able to raise $1,400 as well as acquire some sponsors for the children there at the feeding centers. We had one week to plan it, and somehow it came together and was an amazing blessing for us as well as for the ministry. Starting out, I remembered thinking that if I could come back to Honduras with a check for $400 to hand the ministry, I would be thrilled. But good thing that God is so much bigger because even with being a self-proclaimed dreamer, my goal was more than 2/3 short of what God wanted to bless us with. For everyone who was there and able to participate, I cannot say thank you enough for what you did.

6. Visiting people. I was able to see some friends from high school (Tracy & Rob...although Rob is more high school friend by proxy), college friends (Tara, Rachel, & Marilyn) as well as family members that sadly enough I have not seen in years (my Pompano crew). It also goes without saying that I was able to visit my church family as well as my real family, and the reception I received was wonderful.

7. La Ceiba: Please see above post for more details.

So, I feel like that is about it. I'll let you know if I can think of anything else in the meanwhile. Keep on checking (I promise that now with internet in my house that I will be much better about keeping everyone posted) and keep on commenting!

I haven't fallen off the planet...I promise

2007-07-21T13:35:00.000-06:00

Hey everyone. I know that it has been a long time since I have put anything on here, but I have had a combination of being rather busy and I have not had internet for a month. I promise though, you will have at least 2 posts coming soon...my trip to La Ceiba as well as pictures of my new house!

Graduacion

2007-06-14T16:39:00.000-06:00

Yea for Graduations!

I felt like it was my prom all over again, only without the dancing.

My kids, class of 2019. Doesn't that sound just a little crazy?

Myself and my aide, Ana Ramirez

Fernando Javier Echeverria

Raquel Esquivel & Victor Umana

Maria Jose Urbina & Enoc Isai Morales

Marianna Mejia

Astrid Lara

Also, by clicking on the links below, you can see some video clips of the beloved event.

http://video.google.es/videoplay?docid=-6961680954799264262

http://video.google.es/videoplay?docid=7547753945219579729

Monumento La Paz

2007-06-09T11:31:00.001-06:00

So, on Tuesday we had a half day at school, and Jen and I celebrated our half-freedom by having a picnic at this park in the middle of the city. Our friend Daniel did not have any classes either, so he came along with us as we took random pictures. There was definitely a progression to the pictures though, because the first few were of the view of the city, naturally. We then started taking pictures of ourselves, first normal ones and then "ugly" pictures where we tried to make ourselves look as terrible as possible. After watching us for quite a while and making small talk, the two police officers there guarding the area thought it was quite interesting that we would have a picnic there (Hondurans aren't big on picnics) and that we would purposefully take weird pictures. Small talk continued...."What's your name?"..."Do you like working here?"...."Can we take pictures with your guns?".....you know, normal stuff. Surprisingly, they said yes and so we have some pretty great pictures with AK-47's, but don't worry, they took the clips out before handing them over to us. After a few pictures with the weapons, we were able to get a free ride back down the mountain in the back of the police truck. Overall, a fun eventful day.

City View

Ugly Pictures

Stadium View

And how does this work exactly??

Learning how to correctly position myself from the pro's. I hope this lesson will never come in handy, unless I'm on Jeopardy and the question is "At what degree do you need to bend your knees when firing a baretta?" for $1000.

Trying to look scared in the back of the police truck. Not very convincing on my part, but Daniel looks pretty scared.

Danli

2007-05-16T20:50:00.000-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, for the weekend of the taxi strike, Jen, Leah, Joseph (another teacher at Pinares) and Blanca, my Sunday School teacher, went to Danli to visit this family that we have been praying for in our Sunday School class. This family has probably one of the most tragic stories, and yet it is one that is far too common. The mother was a prostitute and died of aids only a month and a half after her youngest of 6 children were born. Her 6 children are Yarida-age 19, Isis- age 13, Jenny- age 12, Armando- age 10, Eduardo- age 4, and Jason- age 2. They are not sure when the mother contracted AIDS, but it is for certain known that Jason, the youngest, has it and will not make it to his 3rd birthday. He is the smallest child I have ever seen, and even though he is 2 he looks as if his body were that of a small 5 month old. He cannot talk and is too weak to walk, and with every breath you can feel the strain on his poor little lungs. I can honestly say that even though I knew of his condition and was mentally prepared beforehand to see this family, that as soon as I saw this little boy I found myself holding my breath and choking back the tears. They honestly do not know which other of the children have it or not, and I think they do not even want the children to get tested out of fear for what the results may show. Right now, these 6 kids are living with their aunt and uncle, who have 4 or 5 children of their own in a home that has no running water, no plumbing, and no floors. This family is literally dirt poor, and yet living with at least 12 people that I saw.

So, the roundabout way that we became familiar with this family was because Blanca's friend, Michelle, is a missionary here from the U.S., and during one of her short-term mission teams that came, she worked with a little church in Danli. The church building happens to be the 4th wall of the little shack that these children live in, the other three being made of scrap wood and tin, and while she was there she saw the situation of these children and decided to become involved in their lives. She and Blanca have taught them how to best take care of themselves hygienically, to best take care of what little they own, and have also given food and basic supplies that are needed so greatly. With Jen, Leah, Joseph, and myself, we each bought about $25 worth of groceries and cleaning supplies for this family, which was able to go so far. We also made it a point to buy lots of fruits and vegetables, which have so many of the vitamins and minerals that these kids so desperately need but hardly receive.

After arriving and dropping off the three boxes of food, we took all of the kids (the 6 orphans and their cousins) to a fast-food type chicken restaurant with a playground, and you would have thought we had taken them to Disney World. They all changed into the cleanest clothes they owned and put on their best shoes, which were pathetic at best. For Isis, the 13-year old, she had shoes that had the backs cut off of them because you could tell that she had grown out of them, but couldn't buy new ones. Upon returning to their house with full bellies and an afternoon of playing in a place that was relatively clean and safe, we gave the kids the rest of their gifts, which consisted of things like toothbrushes, shampoo, and small toys for the younger ones. The rest of the time was just spent hugging these little ones and trying to show them as much love as possible. You could obviously tell that they were hurting, especially the two older girls who had apparent anger problems. You could also see how attached they were to Jason, knowing in the back of your mind that they were going to lose him as well.

I know all of this is terribly depressing and so hard to swallow, but too often these images are seen on things like World Vision commercials and in magazines, and often we feel distantly removed from it. We think to ourselves that "that is a shame," and we feel a fist in the pit of our stomach that causes us to cringe at the reality of the poverty that still survives today, but feel like the problem is beyond us. Don't get me wrong....this is not a campaign of mine to get people to feel guilty about the lives they lead. These problems are overwhelmingly gigantic, and even living amongst it I still find myself saying over and over "What can I do? What can I do?"... much in the same way that I did living in the states. I feel like most people are compassionate and do care about things like this, but feel completely at a loss for what it is that they, personally, can do. So, they leave it up to big organizations or governments to take care of the problem, because they are big enough to make a substantial dent. But yet, those are wholly insufficient as well.

As I try to wrap my mind around all of this, everything seems to fall short. It is not something that is fixed by throwing money at the problem, and is not something that will probably ever cease to exist. It seems to me to not only be a cyclical problem, but more so like cyclical problems existing within other cocentric circles of cyclical problems until so tangled a web is woven that there seems to be no beginning or end in sight. The only thing that brings comfort to the situation is that this is not how God created this world to be, and this is not our home. These kids will only have to live in this life on earth for only a blink of an eye in the face of eternity, and they will spend the rest of their time in heaven, where it is perfect and where there will be no more hurt or struggling. If our time with them brought them even the smallest feelings of joy and relief from daily life, then praise God. We are hoping to visit again in the next month or so, and since then Leah and I have been stockpiling children's clothes in anticipation of this.

While all of this may be burdening and completely unpalatible, I urge every single one of you to look into your life and find one situation where you have stepped back because it seemed like there was no end in sight and that no matter how hard you tried, things would never change. Maybe it is an addiction of your own or of a family member, maybe it is a co-worker or a friend whose dysfunctionality you don't think you can handle anymore. It says in Hebrews 6:10 that "He will not forget your work and the love you have shown Him as you have helped His people and continue to help them." You are not pressing on for yourself or even for your friend or family member, but you are pressing on for God. And funny enough, while these sort of things would have mentally and spiritually worn me out before, I find myself recharged and possessing the strength to keep on loving and serving in ways that I never thought capable. It amazing what you are capable of when you lean not on your own strength, but on God's. He's pretty big, and His strength is all powerful and all consuming, and when we are able to even tap into one fiber of His being much can be accomplished. Lately, when I have found myself at a loss of what it is I am supposed to do and what it is I am expected of, I have found myself meditating on this verse from Micah, which says that "And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God." Fair enough, God.
Keep on keepin' on my friends, and I will continue to keep you updated.

Faces of the Feeding Center

2007-05-16T20:42:00.000-06:00

Monkeys, floods, and taxi strikes, oh my!

2007-04-27T06:11:00.000-06:00

I have had a couple of very interesting days...I thought I'd share.

The day before yesterday early in the morning I was the official tarantula remover from my building. Why I was voted upon I am not sure why, but luckily I was able to draw on my vast prior tarantula experiences (sarcastic) and I managed to get it out of my building without it jumping or sending my kids running. Operation success.

Yesterday I took my kids on my first field trip ever, and after having to improvise everything before we left (since our chapel leader did not make it and I had to quickly figure out something to do for 45 minutes first thing in the day with 21 overly excited kids) I feel like the field trip to the zoo here was a success. And oh yeah, we had wild monkeys eat our food, which was in a basket outside by the picnic area. Even without opposable thumbs, those guys are able to take lids off of tupperware and unscrew lids off of drinks. Impressive guys, impressive.

After the field trip, I went out to dinner with Leah and a friend to celebrate their birthday when the heavens opened up and the deluge of the century wreaked its havoc upon Tegucigalpa. When the rain let up a little (although it would still be considered pouring) we walked to find a taxi and we saw cars flooded up to their windows in the streets. Most of the main roads were not driveable (since it is mountainous here and if it is undriveable in the lowpoints, the whole road is useless) and the phone lines were out. Needless to say, we walked quite a distance in the rain to try to find a taxi. I was just glad that I was not stranded down in the city with nothing but my wet clothes.

This morning, after being out late with the flood and all, I woke up extra early to finish my work and at 6:00 a.m. I was interupted from my work with the news that there is no school due to taxi and bus strikes. When there is no public transportation, the city is crippled. Yea for no school, but boo because I live 35 minutes up a mountain from anything and do not own a car.

The last and final interesting little tidbit is that today, according to Honduras, was supposed to be the hottest day in the history of the world. The hole in the ozone apparently was to be situated over Central America, causing temperatures to skyrocket and cancerous UVA rays to be outside, so we were not to leave our homes and prepare for the worst. I have been known to exaggerate certain things, but this was none of my doing. There were rumors of the Ministry of Education closing schools because it was supposed to be well over 100 degrees, rumors of electricity being shut off due to the extreme heat.....this morning I woke up after being drenched in the torrential downpour and I am currently wearing sweatpants and a sweater. Good job weather forecasters. Interestingly enough, only Honduras thought this to be true because there was no mention of it on CNN, BBC, Weather Channel, etc. The only source that we ever found giving any explanation for it being the hottest day in the world was La Tribuna (our newspaper), which had an article of a baby being born without a head next to it. Somebody please alert the officials for this award-winning journalism. Please.

1 year since graduation. . .

2007-04-20T18:08:00.000-06:00

As I sit here in my living room on a Friday night (a little pathetic, I know) I realized that tomorrow will officially be one year since I have graduated college. Thinking back, I was trying to list the changes that have occured over these past 365 days, and I was rather amazed.

*I have traveled all over Ireland, Honduras, El Salvador, Belize, Guatemala, and Nicaragua.

*I have moved 2 times, from St. Augustine to Vero Beach, and from Vero Beach to Tegucigalpa.
*I have started a new career in which I was given a class of 21 students who did not read, write or even speak English and now can do all three.

*I have learned a new language, and progressed in my Spanish enough to where when I arrived I could only really say the days of the week and my numbers, to the point where I can hold conversations with my friends who only speak Spanish about things such as philosophy and the cycle of poverty and economics in Honduras. Although my Spanish is littered with grammatical mistakes, it still is possible to communicate such things.

*I have acclimated myself to living in a gigantic new, foreign, and often times dangerous city that does not have a mail system or street names.

*I have learned to rely completely on public transportation in a third world country, and I must say I am getting pretty good at getting cheap taxis.

*I have become involved in ministries that really help to benefit the poorest of the poor, and I have discovered a passion and love for others that I never before imagined.

*I have swam with crocodiles, sting rays, nurse sharks, and probably more bacteria and amoebas that I would like to know.

*I drink milk from a box, eat beans from a pouch, and drink water from a bag.

*I have come to a point in my life where my definition of a 'good' bathroom is one with toilet paper, regardless of whether or not it flushes (or if I have to flush it myself by pouring water in a bucket down the back), has a toilet seat, or even electricity.

*I walk so much that I don't even blink at walking 3 or 4 miles across town.

*I have seen police shoot-outs, strikes outside the Honduran "White House", and police take-downs at futbol games.

*I have experienced the undeserved love and affection from the poorest of the poor children that I see on the weekends when I go to the feeding center. As soon as we step out of the jeep, we are attacked with an armful of children who remain at our side the entire time and who we have to peel off of ourselves when it is time to leave.

* I am able to twist and contort my body in ways that allow me to fit in the tiniest of spaces in taxis and busitos...my only form of transportation.

*I have come to find myself completely surprised when I enter into a building that has air conditioning or insulation.

*I have seen things that could only best be described as worthy of World Vision commercials, where at the feeding center children receive one meal a day (usually rice pudding) that is portioned out into a cup that they bring from home. Being here though somehow brings me more joy than I could have ever thought I could have.

To best sum things up, I have lived, I have seen, I have breathed, and I hope to be able report back in the next year, and the following year and the following year with even more tales of adventure. More importantly, I hope that I can be used more and more and that I can continue to decrease my needs so that I can serve God here more and more. Menos de mi, mas de ti.

Semana Santa part III....Caye Caulker, Belize

2007-04-19T22:40:00.000-06:00

Fresh barracuda caught to be cooked up and eaten later that night. Frightening to look at while eating it (or snorkling with it for that matter), but delicious none the less.

Beautiful view of a rainbow from our rented Apartment in Caye Caulker, Belize. Paradise, truly.

I feel like this picture sums up quite nicely the island lifestyle here. Nothing presumptuous or haughty here....only simplicity.

I became infamous for my "half tan," which essentially was my desperate attempt to expose my white legs to the sun as much as possible. I must say now though that I did have some results, and I am proudly working on slowing building upon this "tan" daily at recess with my kids.

Island sunset.

Snorkling with Kristi

A strange mutant fish we found while wading through the water looking for starfish.

Guatemalan vendors in Caye Caulker selling their beautifully colorful textiles.

Semana Santa part II....Hotel Mon Ami

2007-04-19T21:37:00.000-06:00

The wonderfully rustic Hotel Mon Ami

Restaurant and main gathering/hang out area

Our room and my window

My hammock and the table wear my contacts were eaten by cockroaches

Lago Peten Itza....Amazingly beautiful and crystal clear.

Semana Santa

2007-04-18T16:06:00.000-06:00

For Semana Santa, which is like the Roman Catholic version of Spring Break (i.e. the "holy week" leading up to Easter) we had a substatial amount of time off of school to be able to once again travel through Central America. I had almost forgotten just how nice Spring Breaks are....especially since I went to college at a school where Spring Break was a 4-day weekend the weekend before midterms. Nicely done deans and administrators.

Anyways, for this trip we had a substantially sized group, consisting of myself, Leah, my roommate and a 2nd grade teacher in addition to 3 almost doctors from the U.S. on the cusp of their residencies (hence the need for Central American vacation). I wasn't too certain what the trip would hold since plans change quite frequently in these sort of adventures (please continue to read on to hear some of mine) and I did not know these 3 guys at all. I knew that it either could be really fun or really terrible, and luckily for me I had a great time and these guys were a great addition to our travel group. The rough outline of the trip looked something like this: Friday, bust out of school ASAP and get on a 5 hour bus to go to San Pedro Sula, and stay at the Hostal Tamarindo for $5 a night. Saturday, get up at 4:30 a.m. to catch a taxi at 5:00 a.m. to catch a 11 or 12 hour bus ride to Flores, Guatamala. All went rather smoothly, and crossing the border was pretty simple....actually too simple now that I think about it.

Shortly after arriving in Flores, we took a bus to Tikal, which was like an hour away. and walked around the largest Mayan civilization in the world for about an hour and a half....just enough time to get a small taste of what lay ahead and have a ticket that would allow us to enter the park the next morning for free. We then made our way to our Hostal Mon Ami, which was this AMAZING Swiss Family Robinson thatched palm roof tree house with hammocks everywhere, outdoor showers and bathrooms, a great little restaurant on the premises and a French ex-pat proprietor running the whole show. We also got to overlook this beautiful, crystal clear lake that was the perfect temperature for swimming, and took nightly swims under a full moon. Do I really get to live this sort of life?...I sometimes feel like all this is some sort of dream that I will wake up from, but then I realize that yes, this is my life and that I want to just make the most of and absorb every moment of it possible.

Our first night in the treehouse hostal there was no electricity, and I think that it made the night even more exceptional. We had a candlelight dinner in this open-air restaurant, followed by a full-moon swim in Lago Peten Itza that was completely undisturbed by modern technology and signs of civilization. All we could see laying out in our floating dock in the middle of the lake was the moon, the stars, and open Guatemalan sky. We learned later that there are indeed crocodiles in the lake, and no one really goes swimming at night. Oops.

After sleeping in the upstairs portion of our treehouse without screens or anything over the windows, we woke up at 5:30a.m. to catch a bus to Tikal to beat the heat in the park and to see the different animals that are more prevalent in the morning than in the afternoon. Before coming on the trip, I took about 10 minutes to pack my backpack and managed to forget my contact case. To make matters worse, my aide in my classroom had my glasses since hers broke and our prescriptions are nearly the same. I only use my glasses to read in bed at night and to find my way to my contacts in the morning, so I did not mind at all loaning her my glasses. However, stars must have been aligned because I managed to have one of the strangest tales of the trip because of these preliminary circumstances. Since I did not have a contact case, I put my contacts into a little cup next to my bed. No big deal really...I have done this before. When I woke up in the morning, I put in my contacts and something definitely did not feel right. I took them out and examined them I saw these tiny little holes chewed into them. I soon figured out that cockroaches, Guatemalan contact-eating cockroaches, indeed crawled into my cup next to my bed and eat little portions of my contacts. My only contacts for the trip. My only lifeline to vision. I also was in the middle of Guatemalan jungle, and contacts are difficult enough to obtain in Tegucigalpa, which is the capital city. My options at this point were to a.) not wear any contacts and try to manage to walk through jungle to come upon gigantic temples where I'd have to climb blindly with nothing to hold onto, possibly plunging to my death, or b.) wear something that had been eaten by cockroaches in my eyes, even though it would painful and I'd have to know that these had been tainted by cockroach saliva and bacteria. So, I put them in, and I cried the whole time in Tikal. I pretty much don't have any pictures of myself for this reason...my eyes were bloodshot and I had a constant stream of tears flowing down my face. After finishing our 6 hour tour of the ruins, we went into Flores, Guatemala and I managed to find an optica where I was able to buy 1 contact that they happened to have that cost as much as a whole box, and was not my prescription. I was so elated to not have what felt like jagged pieces of glass with embedded barbed wire inside my eyes anymore that I didn't even care. I went around the 9 remaining days with one contact that was not my prescription, but oh well. What else was I to do?

Inside the park there were howler monkeys, exotic birds that were unlike anything I had ever heard before, wild peacocks, and of course these gigantic ruins that reached up into the sky. After climbing to the top of nearly every temple (which was pretty demanding on the quads) and looking at the panoramic view, it was amazing to see how even today there were no signs of any human life other than what we were standing on for as far out as we could see in every direction that we looked. Not one telephone pole, electric cable....nothing. However, as I was climbing up these temples that were 12 stories tall with steps that are 1 1/2 times those in normal times (which on a sidenote is interesting seeing that the Mayans were small people) I remembered thinking that if I lived during that time and had to climb up and down those steps daily that I wouldn't have minded being sacrificed myself. One pyramid in particular was pretty rough, and I managed to freak myself out mid climb pretty well. The way up, which was tiring but not worrisome, had you climbing up what is essentially a ladder more so than a set of stairs. Each step was probably only set 6 inches in front of the other one due to the steepness of the incline, but completely worth it as I got up to the top and saw the amazing view over to your left. However, going down was a different situation. Since the steps were so close

together, you had to climb down the pyramids backwards, holding on to dear life as the wind is blowing the the structure you are standing on is shaking with all of the people climbing up and down. About 2 stories into the descent, I was starting to feel weak in the legs because of fear, but I started singing "Eres todopoderoso" (the big praise and worship song here) and somehow made it down without a crippling freakout session. The worst part though was when someone was ascending next to you and you'd have to move one hand off of the railing to allow the other person to climb....yikes.

After a couple of more swims in the lake, both daytime and nighttime, our group headed off once again to Belize City, where we caught a water taxi to Caye Caulker, an hour off the coast. Belize, which was formerly owned by England, uses the Belizian dollar and has English as their official language. Additionally, Belize has many more Black Caribbeans than Latinos which definitely made it feel as though I was completely in a different culture. The island was about 5 miles long, and there was not a paved road or sidewalk in sight....only white sugar sand everywhere. Many restaurants and business did not have real floors either, only sand. We were also told several times while walking to slow down because we were "breaking the speed limit." Truly, this was Caribbean Island culture to the utmost, and we had an amazing time eating barracuda, snapper, shrimp and listening to reggae and Garifuna music.

After a couple days of laying out on the beach, we took a 3 hour snorkeling tour of the local reef and were able to swim amongst all the tropical sea life. One of the more unique aspects of this trip was sting ray alley, where we got out in waist deep water that was so teeming with gigantic sting rays that you couldn't really touch the ocean floor without stepping on one. Once again, I was freaked out but loving it at the same time, and I didn't touch the floor....merely floating like a gigantic buoy in 4 ft. deep water.

After 4 days on the island, we traveled back to Guatemala to stay for the night, and slowly made our way back to Tegucigalpa on about 17 different busses with varying degrees of roughness. Somehow, I seem to be completely backwards in my thinking in that the more rougher my vacation conditions the more my level of joy and elation increases. What?...no warm water? Great! I have to hold your toddler in my lap? Wonderful! Maybe that's why I enjoy it here so much....nothing is really cushy or frilly. Bare minimum simplicity is the name of the game (except when it comes to decorating old school buses) and I seem to just thrive upon it, so much that one backpack for 11 days was sufficient and I laughed over my cockroach story. God knew what He was doing when He brought me here, because everything just seems to be a perfect fit. Bien hecho Dios, Bien hecho.

El Picacho

2007-03-14T21:52:00.000-06:00

El Picacho, which literally means mountain peak, is home to a huge statue of Jesus Christ overlooking the city of Tegucigalpa. It was made as a replica of the famous Jesus statue overlooking Rio de Janiero in Brazil, and for me it is my reference point when I am in the city since I live on the same mountain as the statue.

One Sunday after church, Leah and I, along with a friend from church, spent the day at the park and looked over the city as well visited the zoo and botanical gardens on the sight as well. I hope you enjoy the pictures!

Great city view of about 3 million people.

I'm not sure what it is, but ever since I went to Ireland I am not afraid to stand dangerously close to cliff edges. This doesn't look so scary, but its pretty much a big drop. And that rock next to me? Yeah, I climbed it and sat upon it too.

So, I'm not sure why this is so funny, but we convinced a guard to let us borrow his machete so that we could take pictures. Our friend Rubiery thought we were nuts when Leah & I were like "Could you please pretend to chop us in half with a machete?" Being the gentleman that he is, he indulged in our twisted senses of humor and pretended to attack us.

A rare picture of me not being attacked.

Weekend in Tela

2007-03-12T09:40:00.000-06:00

Today, I am happy to say, is a teacher holiday and I am spending my day off in Tegucigalpa, but Saturday and Sunday Leah and I were able to spend our weekend relaxing in the small Caribbean beach town of Tela, about 5 hours from our poor urban metropolis.

Tela is located within the state of Atlantida in Honduras. While this area has been a popular beach destination for Hondurans, most travel to the state's capital of La Ceiba, leaving Tela with a sort of small beach town feel to it. Orignially Tela was the home base for the Tela Railroad Company for many years, owners and producers of the famed Chiquita bananas, and the city still retains the air of a true banana town. When entering the city you can see old palm plantations that are still functioning today, and the city just seems to be dripping with tropical humidity and old-world Caribbean style.

Unique to this part of the country are the Garifunas, or Afro Caribes which makes the culture in this part of the country very different from the rest of Latin America. The African influence, as well as being situated next to the ocean, made me feel not quite like I was in Honduras anymore but rather more like the Dominican Republic. Street vendors were no longer selling taquitos and fresh tortillas but rather mangoes and coconut bread, and the music was no longer reggueton (Spanish rap) but punta, which is this crazy-fast caribbean music that requires a lot moves that this whitey is not possible of doing.

We left Tegus early Saturday morning and took a bus to Tela, arriving around 1:00. Leah & I walked around for a little bit and found a hotel about 1 block from the beach for about $15 a night. Normally I wouldn't spend that much (my usual is about $6 a night) but this was close to the town center and was close to the beach. Hotels here are nothing fancy at all....pretty much bare necessities, but as long as you don't want to spend all of your time hanging out at the hotel then clean & safe are all I ever really look for. After checking into our hotel, we changed into bathing suits and walked through the entire town to this really nice beach in front of the Hotel TelaMar, which was the former home and headquarters of Chiquita bananas. Walking up and down the beach were Garifuna dancers, vendors, guys with horses to rent, guys with machetes and coconuts to drink, and quite a bit of people. It was not quite as crowded as Ft. Lauderdale beach, but crowded none the less. Unlike the beaches in the states though, (or at least Florida) there was just so much life and culture that just watching people was half of the fun.

After spending a little bit of time at the beach and walking around, Leah and I slowly made our way back to our hotel to shower, change, and go out for dinner. Along the way we had probably the most amazing licuado of all time (pretty much like a fresh fruit milkshake), caught a futbol game, walked all throughout these neighborhoods, and of course made new friends along the way.

For dinner we met up with some other teachers from Pinares who arrived on Friday night, ate some good fish, and parted ways. Walking through the streets, which were fun and lively with people riding bicycles everywhere, Leah and I decided to go by this other hotel that was renting bikes to check out the price. The person at the counter, a little old Garifuna man, when asked about renting bikes said "At this time? Are you crazy?" Why yes sir, I think we are. It wasn't late or anything...like 9:00 p.m., and unlike the streets in Tegus these ones were safe and people are not confined to their homes once the sun sets. Since we only wanted the bikes for an hour, we talked the guy into giving us an hour's rate, which when we did the math 24 hours/95 lempiras (the equivalent of $5) they came to be about $.21 each.

With our new bikes came newfound freedom, and we quickly joined up with bike gangs of 12-16 year old boys and rode up and down pretty much every paved street in the city. We also made a friend during our ride, who at first followed from a distance but then as we started talking to him we found ourselves an inseparable friend/tour guide for the night. After showing us all around and making small talk, we invited our new friend, Karlo, to come have a coke with us at this fun thatched roof restaurant/bar/hang out spot that showed really great 80's music videos...Whitesnake, Toto, Pat Benatar were definitely the highlights, but there also were some awesomely bad 80's Spanish music videos to nicely compliment their English couterparts.

We headed back to our hotel and were absolutely exhausted from only having 4 hours of sleep the night before (we went to the circus and didn't get home until 12:30a.m., packed, and woke up at 5:30a.m. to get a ride down to catch our bus to Tela) and quickly fell fast asleep. We woke the next morning at 8:00, which was amazing to get that much sleep and went to a little local place for a typical breakfast of refried beans, fried bananas and crema, avocado, eggs, tortillas, and super strong super delicious Honduran coffee--which, by the way, I'm seeing my intake and tolerance slowly increasing during my time here. Leah, being the newly arrived American that she is had pancakes. ....those Americans.

We walked around and took pictures for awhile, my favorite being these at this burnt down/hurricane damaged pier that was a popular fishing spot and jumping off area. For fishing no pole is necessary, only a block of wood with the string attached as well as some bait and we actually some some kids catching some little fish. While on the pier we made some more new friends (funny how easy it is for 2 white girls to make guy friends in Honduras...) who actually spoke English and we spent the rest of our time at the beach together talking about family, life, purpose, and other sort of small talk conversations. Being here and being American people are always curious as to why we are here, and when they find out that we actually live here now and are not just visiting, it begs more questions and gives us an opportunity to talk about what we believe and why, and why we feel it is our responsibility to follow Jesus's commandments and to serve the poor, downtrodden, widows and orphans.

All of these conversations at the beach however makes for a long afternoon and Leah and I pretty much fried ourselves. In two or three days, however, I feel like I will have a pretty nice little tan....yes, I actually am getting one of those now.

Enjoy!

Leah and I actually got authentic coconut drinks where a man with a machete chopped off the top and stuck a straw inside. Do I really get to live this kind of life where I sip coconut milk on tropical beaches for the weekend?

Fun Pictures

2007-03-01T19:58:00.000-06:00

I realize that the last post was pretty depressing and that I may have come across as not liking Honduras that much. Let me state, for the record, that I love my life here and I love the city. Here are some pictures of just fun-ness.

Leah & I sipping licuados...Honduran smoothies...which are served in bags. Simple to make: Fresh fruit, milk, and a little sugar thrown into a blender. Cost: $.50

Leah & I at Valle de Angeles...trying on aprons and making fools of ourselves.

Just me, hanging out. Shopping in El Centro, and sipping coffee at Cafe Mania.

Happy Birthday

2007-02-26T15:07:00.000-06:00

This past week has been really great, but emotionally tough. Saturday was my birthday, and while usually a birthday is a time to celebrate life, I found myself lamenting it. On the last post I had mentioned Norma, a 28 year old mother of two who was in a coma after being shot twice, and on Thursday night her brain hemorrhaged around the bullet the doctors were not able to remove and she died. The story that was released was that she was caught in the middle of a gang shooting--a sort of "wrong place at the wrong time" sort of incident. The truth though was that the police mistook her car for a drug runner and they shot her twice in the head. Her 2 year old and her 6 year old were in the car at the time.

The previous day, Leah and I were walking to the bus after buying groceries when a man ran past us--very closely-- with a police officer 15 steps behind him with gun drawn. As they both rounded the corner, two shots were fired. We were probably 30 feet away from all of this, and that is definitely the closest I have ever been to a police shootout. After being here for awhile I can't stay that I was completely surprised by it, but poor Leah hadn't even been here two weeks at that time and I knew she was a little spooked. Later down the block we saw the man being hauled off by the police officer and he wasn't limping or anything, so I suppose he shot in the air or in the dirt. I should have been more affected by it then I was--I think I was more scared by my lack of fear than anything else.

Saturday Leah & I went to the market for what I would consider her first "real" cultural experience, and by real I mean not rubbing elbows with the rich and famous like we do at school, but rather seeing how most of the population lives. These farmers work so hard to harvest their food and drive it into the city, and then only get the equivalent of $.50 for a huge pineapple or $.04 for a cucumber. How they survive I am not certain, especially with gas almost at $3.50 a gallon here. It makes me remember that summer when gas in Florida was around $3 a gallon and how everyday on the radio and TV people's outrage poured out over this travesty, and here it just seems so.....different. I wish I could come up with a more descriptive term, but the right word escapes me.

I was reminded about this time I was in a taxi that stopped to get gas before taking us to our destination, and the driver, who was very nice and easy to talk to, put 50 Lempiras in the gas tank---this is like the equivalent of $2.50. I asked him why he put in so little...I mean afterall, he is a taxi. He told me that if he put a lot of gas in his car that people would siphon it out and steal it. That thought had never occured in my little privileged American mind.

Anyways, back to this weekend. After the market, Leah and I went with a small group to Manos Extendidas, an organization that has feeding centers for the poorest of the poor children as well as sponsorship capabilities (http://www.MEHonduras.org). Usually a group from Pinares goes once a month, but until this month I have always had some sort of obligation, so I have never gone. After traveling into Comayaguela, the poorer half of Tegus that has been swallowed up by urban sprawl, we met at the church that runs the feeding centers and were able to look at their new building, which was still humbling even with the smell of brand new paint and drywall filling the rented one-room. There were no windows, no sound system, and no decorations and yet people could still worship there. I was beginning to think that was impossible without paid musicians with wireless mics transferring sound into stacks of Marshall amps in a newly renovated building. Okay, that might have sounded a little bratty, but I have very strong views on megachurches, or at least that mentality. In addition to being a church, operating feeding centers everyday and finding sponsorship for children, they also help to rehabilitate prostitutes and street kids and even help former gang members hide out so that they will not be killed for leaving the gang. Truly, these people are my heroes.

After meeting up with some of the Hondurans that work the feeding centers day in and day out, we loaded into the cars and went to the poorest outskirts of the city, way up in the mountains after driving up dirt roads that can only be driven with 4WD. Now when I ask you to try and imagine the poorest neighborhood your mind can possibly conjure up, picture us there. There were about 60 children, plastic cup in hand, ready to receive their one meal of the day, which that day was a sort of rice pudding/oatmeal/gruel type food that was portioned out so each child received 1 measuring cup full. We also sang songs with the kids, talked, played, and put on bible skits. Those children are so darling and (thankfully) appeared oblivious to the absolute poverty in which they lived.

I realize that all this sounds quite depressing, and on my birthday I must admit that I was a little depressed. My heart was broken over Norma, I had seen children who had so little that I could probably double their entire family's yearly income with what I pay with in taxes for my job with benefits (that job in the U.S., by the way, would put me under minimum wage. Just added that for perspective). I was also finally feeling a little freaked with the shootout that had just happened a couple of days prior along with some other incidences that I had heard about recently. I thought, how could I possibly celebrate anything to do with my life--my shallow, materialistic life filled with comfort and security--when there is so much need and suffering in the lives of so many? Why was I given another year of life when Norma was not? Why is my life worth keeping sustained when the lives of a good portion of children whom I helped serve food to will have their lives snuffed out before they ever should be? It was then that I felt God gently telling me that He is in control, and that I have His protection for a reason.

I had also been reminded of a conversation I had had earlier that day about traveling around the world. On the bus back from the market, people were talking about all of the fantastic exotic locations that they have been, and I thought about maybe after this contract in Honduras that I could pack up and move to somewhere new, and then after that somewhere new. I could keep teaching as a missionary and I could probably convince myself that I was doing what God wanted me to do and that I was a good person. But that night, sitting on the floor of my closet, crying and talking to God on my 23rd birthday, I knew in my heart that the reason I am here and the reason I am alive is because of those poor kids at the feeding center, because of the taxi drivers I talk to and because of those street kids who happily take my half-drank smoothie I hand them. My job on earth is not to make a bunch of shallow relationships all over the world and collect a portfolio of photographs featuring different races of poor people I helped one time. My purpose here is to go deeper than that. Every breath I am given is given in the hope that with it I can follow Jesus more and do those things that He has called me to do. To feed those kids. To talk in my broken Spanish to people. To become involved in the lives of others who are hurting and needing and feeling more than I ever could imagine. That is why I am here- 23 years old. Happy Birthday to me.

New Update

2007-02-20T20:24:00.000-06:00

In the middle of typing up my last post, my computer died...and its not one of those "oh my computer crashed" sort of temporary problems. This is probably the real deal. I don't know if it was an electrical surge or what, but my computer had this terrible burnt smell, and when I took it to have an estimate done today the guy looked at it and said "oh my God". That is usually not such a good sign...

So, I suppose I'll be needing a new computer now, but I will not be able to get one until I return to the states in July. If anyone out there reading this has a laptop I can buy from them, let me know.

Also, I'm asking your prayers for this woman, Norma, who is the mother of my roommate's student. She is not much older than I am, has a 6 year-old and a newborn and is currently in a coma after being tragically caught in the middle of a gang shooting. She was driving in her car with her children when she was accidentally shot twice in the head, and with much prayer she has somehow held on and is making progress. Situations like this sort of shake me into reality, and make me realize just how precious and fragile life really is. Having had a couple of scary incidences myself, I also ask that you would continue to pray for my safety as well as the other teacher's at both my school and other schools like mine in the area.

I will be posting pictures from this weekend as soon as I can, so keep checking up on me. I covet your comments and e-mails...you don't realize just how encouraging they are. I love you all and I will try to do a better job of keeping you more updated.

Lago de Yojoa

2007-02-18T20:26:00.000-06:00

So, I realize that it has been a month since my last post, and you have to believe me when I say that I have sat down a couple of times to write and update everyone about my life. Looking back over my previous posts, however, my recent life has not seemed to produce anything nearly as exciting or exotic as what you are accustomed to. After this weekend, I think that has changed...but before I tell you about that, I need to take a couple of minutes to give you a recap of events over the past few weeks of things that I feel you need to know, but didn't necessarily merit its own post.

We have had a couple of fun days at school, one being the 100th day of school and Valentine's Day. Since August 21st, my class and I have been counting up to the 100th day of school, in which we celebrated by dressing like old people (myself included) and did various school activities revolving around the number 100. My kids were so cute, and it really made me look back to see how much my students have grown and developed in a relatively short time together. When they entered my class on Day 1, they could not understand or speak English, tie their shoes, read, or write words. Now they are doing all with amazing ease (thank goodness they can tie their shoes now), and I feel so blessed and privileged to be a part of the development of these kids. Sometimes I wake up and I think to myself, "Am I really a teacher now? Do they really trust me with these kids, a recent college grad, and think me worthy of imparting knowledge?" Before I began teaching, my biggest fear was not my living situation, my safety, the language, or any of the hardships that come with living in an extremely impoverished nation, but rather that I would be a terrible teacher, my students would not learn anything, drop out of school in frustration for never having learned to read or write, and join gangs since they did not have an education. Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration, but I really was scared to ruin these children, so seeing their development has eased my fears about the aforementioned situation. I adore my children so much more now on Day 100-and something than I did on Day 1 or Day 50, and if nothing else, I have full confidence that my children know that I love them and for so many of them, that is just what they need. So, for me life is still great and I just have peace about my life because I know that I have just found my little niche in the universe.

So onto more recent matters. As many of you know, I have had a friend join me in my little niche about a week ago, and tomorrow will be her first day teaching by herself here. My friend Leah, who I figured out I've known for about 9 years now (which makes me feel old) has recently taken a position at the Academia Los Pinares to take over a 4th grade class for a teacher who is going on maternity leave. Lucky for me but unlucky for both sets of parents, we are pretty adventurous and probably bring it out of each other more than normal. I'm just glad to have someone here who enjoys leaving their apartment and exploring as much as I do, and I've gotten a kick out of transitioning from the one needing the translation to the one giving the translation.

Now that we are up to speed, this past weekend was ALP's annual teacher retreat at the country's only lake, Lago de Yojoa. Even though the whole weekend was drizzling and cold, I had a fantastic time. The topography of the area was a nice change from Tegucigalpa, which has mostly rugged mountains and pine forests to the lake where the surrounding area looked like a tropical postcard with the banana trees, mountains, and jungle birds flying about. The lake is situated inside a collapsed volcano and sits at about 1/2 a mile up, so the mountains surrounding the lake were especially beautiful with the clouds covering the tops. I also wish that I could explain the sounds of the birds and frogs which filled the air, and since it was sort of rainy all weekend long they seemed to be even more alive and vocal.

Even though it was cold and rainy, there was no way that Leah and I were going to stay in our cabin all weekend...especially when there is a new area to explore. We went with a group from ALP to this national park and took a boat ride way out into the lake. In our boat there were 13 people and the top of the boat barely hovered about the water, and while some people might be miserable being cold and wet in a boat, I was just amazed at my surroundings and had one of those "I need to commit this to memory" sort of experiences. After being on the water for 25-30 minutes, and were dropped off at this rickety bridge (See: Video Clip http://www.zippyvideos.com/8093081706682756/macayla_005/) where we walked back through Lenca ruins and sugar cane fields to the front of the park. We then met up with the rest of the group at this little cabana-type restaurant to eat boiled corn on the cob dipped in mantequilla and rolled in quesillo. Nearby the lake were supposed to be these fantastic waterfalls that you could jump off of into this swimming hole, but alas I was not quite that adventurous because it was definitely cold and as it was, I did not have enough warm clothes for this trip and I definitely wore the same jeans and jacket for the entire 3 day retreat. We were warned by everyone that this trip is usually really hot and were told to bring plenty of tank tops and shorts, so at least we were in good company in our cold, wet states and repeat outfits.

Besides the lake adventure, I also had a great time just hanging out with my new "family" here, as diverse as they may be. I played a few games of Spanish pictionary (which by the way is difficult enough to draw and guess these words in English), hung out with lots of people I normally wouldn't be able to, and had lots of time to relax just soak in the weekend...literally and figuratively.

If I were a gambling kind of girl, I'd totally play the lottery with my luck

2007-01-16T21:51:00.000-06:00

Kismet. A word of Turkish/Arabic descent meaning fate or destiny. Today was a series of events that to me almost seem too incredible to have all fit together in the perfect way that they did. Maybe God is smiling down on me and using this as a small way to let me know that He is in control and that I am in exactly the place I am meant to be at the exact time that I am meant to be here.

The "coolness" of some of these events you will just have to take my word for because try as I may, I will probably not be able to completely capture this in a way that will bring any sort of justice to the situation, but I will try.

First, I went downtown with another teacher to look for a couple of classroom supplies that I was pretty much certain that I would not be able to find since they weren't exactly common place, and it is Honduras. There is no such thing as easy shopping, and there is never ever a guarantee that even if you find a product that you are looking for that it will even be there the next day or ever again. So, I was looking for sticky tack for my walls and watercolors for my kids (both pretty random items not easily found even office supply stores) and my friend was looking for plastic trays that students could put their papers in to be graded. Even at the remote possibility of finding children's watercolor paint sets, I was certain that they'd be expensive because any kind of item not easily come by usually is. My friend finds her baskets (pretty amazing without having to go to a million places), and in the next store I find the watercolors for about $.70 each, and literally next to it was sticky tack. I was pretty amazed at that. Within 2 stores, two people were able to find the exact items they were looking for at the exact time. I wish I could explain the phenomenon that just occured here, but I suppose the only thing close would be as if you went to a thrift store and saw a dress that you had seen 2 years earlier in a department store in a different state and wanted. On top of that, it was your size, still had the tags on it, and was half price for that day only. Wouldn't you call that kismet? I would venture to guess that the same sort of odds were at work here. This may sound like a ridiculous exaggeration, but you will not understand it until you ever have to look for a specific item in a third world country.

Next set of freaky coincidences: My friend Jorge called as I walked into the house this afternoon and asked if I'd be in El Centro today. I said yes, but that I was on a mission and I'd need all the time that I could spare to be able to look for these items, especially because I couldn't get down into the city until 4 o'clock and all the stores close around 5 or 5:30. Oh yeah, by the way, my friend and I also got a free ride down the mountain with someone from the school who never drives down into the city after school. I forgot about that....yet another thing to add to my kismet day.

So, Jorge said he was going to hitch a ride back into the city from his tiny little village about an hour and a half away. He said to look for him at this coffee shop at 4:30, but I'm thinking that the only way this would all work out would be if he hitched a ride that moment with someone who was heading into Tegucigalpa and traveling on a road with nothing but tiny little villages and farms. Let's just say its not a highly traveled road. My friend and I peeked into the coffee shop, didn't see him there (at 4:45) so we left without even waiting because I figured the chance of that working out was slim to none. Shortly thereafter is when I found my bounty, and my friend and I wanted to celebrate by going to have dinner at a place where we never go because its pretty expensive when compared to all of the local fare.....Subway. I figured it would be worth the $4 because I was rejoicing over my cheap watercolors I was able to find at a random hardware store. Go figure. Joy and I were sitting there at Subway for a little while, and I feel this hand on my shoulder, and its Jorge! He went to the coffee shop, didn't see us there, and while walking down a different road to catch a taxi home, happened to look in the window of this Subway and see us there. Subway isn't even one of the two main roads in El Centro either. Once again, this is weird and totally cool at the same time.

For me, some days are good Spanish days and some days are bad. This day was neither. It was an amazing Spanish day. I was able to sit and talk to Jorge completely in Spanish and it just flowed so naturally that I didn't even need to hesitate much in order to buy some more thinking/translating time. After Subway, I was heading over to the movie theatre to meet some friends for half price Tuesdays and to watch Deja Vu. If you haven't seen this yet, please check your local Blockbuster to look for it because it was amazing! The premise of this movie deals not too far from the idea of fate and destiny (even more of a coincidence I think) and after the movie we girls stopped into the bathroom only to find no toilet paper (very common) and as I look into my bag to try and find something to use, I pull out a package of baby wipes that happened to make their way into there from my classroom. Did I put those in my bag on purpose?....of course not! They just appeared.

Walking out of the movie theatre it was 8:45, and the last busito up the mountain usually leaves at 8:30, but I figured we could walk down the same route as the busito would go in case we happened to catch the last one, and if we didn't there was also a punto de taxis (sort of like a taxi stop) along the way. We walk all the way to the punto without seeing a busito (not surprised) and asked this guy how much for my area of town, and he says 200 lempiras, which is like $10. Pretty excessive, but to be expected when 4 white girls walk up to you and ask you to take them to a nice part of the city. Usually when we take a taxi at this time, we will have one of our Honduran guy friends hail it for us for half that price, and I tell the taxi driver (in once again great Spanish) that we always get the taxi for 100 lemps. He was hesitent, I offered 120 (which is totally impressive for a white girl to get a taxi up the mountain for that much at night) and just as the guy was saying yes, I see out of the corner of my eye the last busito flying by. I run out, flag it down, and we all hop on to sit down in seats! Now, to explain this miracle to you, the busitos (which by the translates into 'little bus') start their route at a park, and won't even pull away from the park until all of the seats are full. Then, they will continue along their route picking up as many people that can anatomically fit into the space, so its pretty much impossible to catch a busito along its route and find seats. We all found seats together in the same row, and payed $.30 for our ride up the mountain instead of $5. Had I looked the other way at that exact second, I would not have seen the busito, and had I been wrong and ran out into the street after a busito that didn't happen to go to my section of town (which by the way not many go to) I would have had to face the taxi drivers who would have been laughing at me and would have accepted nothing less than 200 lemps because they knew I had no other way to get home.

While this all may seem so trivial and nothing more than just a good day, I was so excited about it that I came home to write about it right away even though it is my bedtime. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe it was luck, but I think it is more than that. I think it is confirmation from God that I am not here by mistake or by ambitious dreams of youth, but that I am part of that intricate weaving of people and circumstances that are all part of God's plan. I look at something like this and I am amazed by the way situations fit together like fingers interwoven in folded hands, and this doesn't even begin to reflect on God and his control over all our lives. Nothing we do is by chance, and God doesn't have a plan B. While we are so concentrated on the things before us and the 2 or 3 moves we are going to make in the future, God sees everything from the beginning of time until the place where time stops and eternity begins. Isn't it amazing to relinquish that kind of control and worry over our future?

...From Whence I Came

2007-01-08T17:21:00.000-06:00

I have been back in Honduras now for 4 days, and already I feel like so much has happened. My life seems to go in that direction anyways...I seem to have stories or get myself into situations that I feel only happen to people like me and not the average joe, but then again I don't suppose I live the average joe life that would result in normal happenings on a regular basis.

Thursday morning my parents and I left bright and early for Miami International only to get there not in time to check my bags in for my flight. By the way, for those of you traveling internationally and like to cut it close at the airport, the latest they will let you check in your bags before your flight is 50 minutes...I just thought the 2 hour international rule was made up by overly prepared yuppies who are the type of people to go out for a power walk and mochafrappelattechino before making a couple of business transactions while on the way to their flight, getting there way before departure time. This now makes 1 nearly missed flight where I sprinted across the Orlando airport and made the gate as they made their 2nd last call to New York, and one official missed flight. I think I will start allowing myself more time because as good as it may feel to sleep in 30 more minutes, it does not make up for the "oh crap" feeling you have an hour and a half before your flight when you're not quite sure you'll make it.

Anyways, I missed that flight, but they said that I could get bumped up to the next flight, which was the last one of the day at the oh-so-late hour of 11:00 a.m.. And at no additional charge? Extra points for me....until I got up to the window and was put on standby for the last flight of the day. Once again, another "oh crap" feeling. If you've never been on standby, it can be a little nerve-racking, especially if you're handing over your bags to an airline you're not sure you'll be flying with that is internationally bound. When bound to a country like Honduras, even if the stars are in perfect alignment and everyone performs their jobs to the utmost, you're still not guaranteed to arrive with your bags. I checked in my bags, went through all the security checkpoints (which by the way I feel are excessive in the wrong areas...like having to send my flip-flops and sunglasses through the x-ray machine as if I had a small bomb within the frames of my glasses. Who am I, James Bond??) and I arrived at my gate to a few little [good] surprises. I found 2 other teachers who were on the same flight as me, which was amazing for transportation back up the mountain since I was not arriving back at my anticipated time. I also ran into my friend Josh, who I knew from Flagler and is serving in the Peace Corps in Honduras, and we happened to be on the same flight as well, which is cool because I hardly get to see him even though we live in the same country. I checked in right before they started boarding and I managed to get a seat on the flight. Yea for me.

The plane landed in Honduras after a full two hours of chatting with these older ladies I was sandwiched in-between in Spanish, which was good practice after a 2 week break. The landing process is a little crazy because the airstrip is in the middle of the mountains and you have to bank for about 10 minutes before you fly dangerously close over the tops of shanty houses and buildings and land on an airstrip that is actually about 10 feet shorter than the airstrip of an aircraft carrier. I've never been in a plane before where the people clap for a successful landing... usually that's more of a given in my mind when buying an airline ticket. Life hits you as soon as you step out of the doors because the city is just there at your feet, unlike most airports. I must say though that upon arrival I was really impressed by the amount of improvements and modernization that my little Toncontin airport has gone through since my first arrival in 2005. Before, we didn't have the tunnel that connected the plane to the airport and had to walk down a ladder and across the tarmac to retrieve our baggage that was dumped in the middle of the floor in an un-airconditioned room where men with automatic weapons watch you as you sort through the suitcases to see which one is yours. But times change and countries update, and whether its for the best or the worst I am not yet certain.

Since Josh was in town, he and I went out to dinner and spent at least 2 hours walking down the main strip of Tegus looking for this little restaurant that I heard rave reviews about. While walking (with bad directions that were confidently given by 5 different people), I was honked at, cat-called, and blasted out by really loud reggaeton music and felt completely at home once again.

On Saturday I went way out into the countryside to attend an opening for an organization that I've recently been exposed to and really hope to become more involved with that helps to rescue and rehabilitate prostitutes and their children. The organization is run by two missionaries, one from Korea and the other who started out signing a one year contract to teach at a Christian bilingual school (like mine) and stayed for an additional 25 years and never plans on leaving. They go out on the streets to talk to the prostitutes, tell them about Jesus and about their value and worth to God, take them in, teach them a trade, and help them to be self-sufficient without having to return to the streets again to earn a living. On this new site, they have built this beautiful facility which has complete apartments, a bakery, beauty salon, and sewing workshop that will be open to the public and will fund the ministry as well as support these women. Amazing to say the least. At the end of this post I will add a link to their website as well as share a couple of the testimonies of some of these women.

There have been rumors that all of the street vendors were to be removed from the downtown area and put in a different location, but things like that aren't really taken that seriously. Just last month, the police raided the street vendors and forced all the pirated CD's and DVD's out of the area and imprisoned many, and even after this show-down (which was quite exciting from what I could tell) they were all back within 2 days and just as active as ever. Saturday night as I was catching a bus back up the mountain from downtown, I could see some of the vendors breaking their stuff down and I thought that maybe the new law was going into affect, but not really giving it more than just a passing thought. The next day I went to church which is in the downtown area, and they said that church was going to start late because there were lots of streets closed down. I had a couple of small things that I needed to get, so I headed right into the heart of downtown while I was waiting for church to begin, and the whole main plaza in front of the cathedral was crawling with military with riot gear....hundreds of military with riot gear. I didn't really continue on, figuring that now was probably not the optimum time to buy toothpaste and plastic hangers.

Today was the first day back in school, and I must say that I missed my absolutely adorable children. They were exceptionally well behaved also, which also makes them seem cuter. I did find out that one of the other kindergarten teachers will be out for a month after a nearly fatal miscarriage which ruptured her fallopian tubes. This teacher has been praying for another baby also, which makes it all the more difficult. If you can remember to pray for her, I know that she can use it. She is the only employed one in her immediate family after her husband was laid-off and was already feeling financially strapped before all of this happened. This woman is very dear to me and has gone over and beyond the co-worker call of duty to make sure I have enough blankets and that I have medicine when I'm sick. Her name is Etni Flores, and like I said I would appreciate your prayers for her.

So, that's all for now....but I say that as if I didn't just turn 5 rather ordinary days into a small novella. As promised, below (if you would like to continue reading and aren't inundated by my ramblings) is the info for Jericho Ministries and the testimonies. Also, I will attach the link to the website for the orphanage that I go to, and I would highly recommend taking time to look through there.

Macayla

http://www.jerichomin.org
http://www.hopecenterhonduras.com

Maria Elena
It is a common sight to see Maria Elena, 35, happily sweeping or cleaning up around Jericho. She came to us just over a year ago after having been more than 15 years on the streets. She was weary of life itself when another street woman told her about Jericho. She showed up at the offices of Jericho to find out more about the ministry and ended up accepting Christ right there. Now she is off the streets, and has found peace with Christ. She says that the only thing that awaited her in the streets was death but now she has found real life in Christ. She says she has received from the Lord a whole new attitude and outlook on life. Where she was once a violent woman, who used to attack anyone who crossed her, now she lives at peace with others. Maria Elena is the mother of 7 children, ranging in ages from 6 to 21. Five of her children now also have a relationship with the Lord and her 10-year-old son, Merlin, says that he wants to be a pastor when he grows up. Maria says that she believes that her children are going to be great servants of God. Maria is excited to be serving God and now even has a Growth Group meeting in her tiny house where more than 15 people gather weekly to study the Word of God together.

Mayra
Mayra, 27, grew up in an unstable home. Her father left them while she was very young to be instead with her aunt, her mother’s sister. She has a sister/cousin who was born the same month she was. At the age of 14, her mother sent her to Tegucigalpa to live with an aunt and continue her studies, but her aunt treated her badly and she ended up leaving to look for work, which she finally found in a bar. There she met the father of her son, Cristian, and moved in with him. But he left while she was still pregnant. Three months after the birth of her son, she found herself with no money and a sick baby. Together with a friend, they decided to go to the streets to make money. She was 18 years old. For 5 years she sold herself on the streets. She says that when you have spent a good amount of time in prostitution, you begin to think that is all you can do. But the “Hound of Heaven” was after her and many people began to speak to her of Christ. When the Jericho evangelism team shared Christ with her and told her of the ministry where she could be trained in an honorable profession, she accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior and entered the ministry. But it wasn’t always easy. A month and a half later, after receiving her monthly pay, she went home, put the money in a drawer, and then left for a church meeting. Upon returning she found that someone had broken in and stolen all of her money. At the time the Enemy tried to convince her that God wouldn’t take care of her and that she could only make money by being on the streets. She decided to go back to the streets the following day. But upon arriving she felt embarrassed, “like being naked in front of a crowd of people.” When a former client called on her, she walked up to his car but could feel the conviction of the Holy Spirit. It was as if He whispered to her, “you are too valuable to me to be doing this.” She left the man there and went home. The Lord was gracious to her she says, “for who knows what would have become of her if she had gone back.” The Lord is now teaching her to seek Him, to trust Him and to press on in the faith to which He has called her. Her eyes now shine the light of Christ.

Coming to a town near you...

2006-12-15T23:13:00.000-06:00

So....yeah. I have received several e-mails (mom) concerning the lack of my face (grandma) in my pictures that I post (Marilyn, Erin, and others.) Since I have been gone for awhile (almost 5 months) and will be coming to the states for the holidays (December 22nd-January 4th) I thought I'd utilize your cerebral axions and synapses that are associated with recognizing familiar faces. I would certainly hate to get to the states and be forgotten by all...

I hope this is sufficient and that I won't need to take out such a personal ad like this for awhile... :) Can't wait to see everyone!

Accion de Gracias

2006-11-26T17:06:00.000-06:00

I have heard it said that Thanksgiving is the only holiday maintaining some sort of semblance to its original intentions. While holidays such as Christmas, Easter, and even smaller ones such as Memorial Day have strayed from their meanings, Thanksgiving is still a day set aside to feast together and give thanks for the bounties and blessings in our lives.

I have so many things to be thankful for, and many of those things that I have overlooked in the past have made themselves more visible in my life. When people ask what its like here and I tell them of the hardships that come with being a foreigner (a rich white one at that) in a place wrought with extreme poverty, I am not quite sure if I am making it clear that I am so happy here. Being in this situation, I am made more acutely aware of the undeserved, overabundant blessings from God in my life, and in this situation you cannot help but feel joy. I am thankful for warm showers (because with this I am an minority here) and for the times when I have electricity at the flick of a switch. I'm not sure when the change came where normally I'd be mad that I dare be inconvenienced but a power outage to the point where I am thankful that its on, but it happened. I am so thankful that I have health and education and some control (to a degree) over my future--I can choose to leave here and never see poverty again if I so desired, whereas these people have no such option. Many have hardly ever been out of the barrio that they grew up in, and do not or will not ever have the means to do so. I am so thankful that I do not go to bed hungry, that I can pile on clothes to keep me warm, crawl under blankets at night, and get a full nights sleep before I go to my job with benefits, that pays for all my needs as well as my desires at this point. I can't help but have more joy now than I have ever had in my life because I know that as I continue to learn the language, connect with people, and become better at teaching that my joy will increase even more.

With that aside, Jen and I took our Thanksgiving break and traveled to Nicaragua to this amazingly beautiful beach as a way to escape the cold weather in the mountains. Yes, it has been cold here---legitimately cold, to the point where we have cancelled 2 days of school. From our bus I got to see hours of the beautiful Honduran countryside, which is some of the prettiest that I have ever seen in my life. As far out as you can see there are blue-green mountains completely undisturbed except for the occasional small pueblo with the stark-white cathedral standing out against the lush greenery--a sort of lighthouse to the rest of the country letting others know that yes, there are people out there. We also got to see nearly the entire Pacific Coastline of Nicaragua since our beach town was only 12 km from the border of Costa Rica.

Wednesday night we arrived in Managua, the capital city of Nicaragua. This place completely exceeded my expectations...I have always heard how dirty and dangerous Managua was, and after pulling into the city and spending a full day there I was surprised at how new and clean everything looked and how the neighborhood where the bus terminal was in the "bad section" of town looked nicer than many, many parts of Tegus. Sort of puts things in perspective. Recently Daniel Ortega was elected president of Nicaragua, who is the leader of the FSLN (Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional) party---pretty socialist in nature. Ortega was president when the U.S. invaded during the Civil War in the early 90's, and even though this poor little country has been tugged and pulled by the world super-powers to "join their side," the general population benefitted from this type of government and thus elected Ortega again. This, I feel, is the problem with a two-party election system: One party is inevitably for elite portions of the population while the other who promises to protect and serve the common man might be corrupt, but there are no other options so people are left to choose the lesser of two evils. But anyways, I need not launch into political debates at this point. I brought all this up because Daniel Ortega erected some pretty impressive statues to support the FSLN movement, which are so unlike anything I've ever seen before. Like this, the statue to the unknown guerilla, with an axe in one hand, AK-47 in the other pointing up to the sky. Made me feel like I wasn't in Kansas anymore...

San Juan del Sur, our little beach town, was pretty used to seeing people from the states who come for the surfing. This place is not nearly as well known as Costa Rica (probably due to the aforementioned U.S. invasion to control the Civil War) but was so friendly and accomodating to us. We stayed at a hostel full of nothing but surfers for $5 a night and were 2 blocks away from the beach. Other than making it to our destination, we had little other plans for the weekend except finishing our books and becoming bronzed goddesses. I feel like I was more successful at one then the other, but then again who really wants to read when on a tropical beach anyway? Just kidding. I did finish my book and even got a few tan lines, and by tan lines I mean freckles on my shoulders and chest which give the appearance of color.

All in all, I had a wonderful time. Make sure to check out my pictures, which you can enlarge by clicking on them. I also have another video clip from the beach, but I apologize for the sound quality...the wind kinda does a number on that. To see this video, go to the post entitled "Now You Can See My Homemade Videos" under the September archives. Keep me in your prayers...I can surely use them. Pray that I can find a place volunteer at during the summer that isn't too far from my apartment, pray for friends, safety, continued Spanish learning, and that I can become more and more connected with people here. Until next time, leave me some comments. I check them all the time and they make my day :)

Just a pile of rocks, or simply amazing?

2006-11-13T20:59:00.000-06:00

Tales of the Weekend When I Accidentally Went to Guatemala

2006-11-12T19:36:00.000-06:00

Being that I am now an official adult with a career that has such things as "paid days off," Jen and I once again decided to be adventurous and took a day off to have a long weekend of traveling...Long being the operative word in use. But then again, it should be a little long when you accidentally go to a country you hadn't necessarily planned on. Saying that, I will now prolong the suspense by going into the whole back-story of how we got to this point. I know you are all waiting eagerly in anticipation...

Since last summer when I first came to Honduras, I have wanted to go to Copan, which is known for having the best preserved Mayan ruins in the world. For some, just a pile of rocks can be boring, but I am completely intrigued by things like this. I loved the Colosseum in Rome, Stonehenge in England, and now these Mayan ruins. The amount of work that these ancient civilizations put into their buildings, chiseling one rock at a time into a block, carrying the blocks, and building these huge, intricate structures that are still here thousands of years later amazes me. Being only a few hours away, I have been waiting for the perfect weekend to go. Not to mention that I found a $4 a night hostel that looked like so much fun just 2 km away from the ruins...it was calling my name.

In addition to being my city tour guide and Spanish tutor, our friend Jorge can add "personal travel agent" to his list of jobs since he found Jen and I these really cheap bus tickets to Copan from Tegucigalpa. ***On a sidetrack*** Ever notice how easily you can say things like "I can sleep on the plane,"(or in this case the bus) when after the last time you said that you swore to yourself that you would never be so stupid again? With that said, we agreed to take the bus leaving at 11:00p.m. from Comayaguela, which is the city that has molded itself with Tegucigalpa in the urban sprawl. Comayaguela is like the Harlem of Tegucigalpa---lots of life, great local restaurants and nightspots and culture, but also notoriously known for being not so great in certain parts. But don't worry folks...we are always taken care of and were made sure that we got on the bus safely.

The bus stop in Comayaguela was "rustic" to say the least. I put this word in quotations because so many times I feel like this word is used more as a euphemism than an actual adjective by people who can't quite say "junky" or "run-down". Anyways, this bus station was "rustic," and over the entrance it had a hand-written sign that said "May God be with you on your journey"-- a nice sentiment, however it evokes different feelings when you're at a bus-stop with random stray dogs, unfinished walls, and piles of rubble everywhere. We board the bus at 11, here a small sermon by the driver, and are off, planning to arrive at our destination early in the morning.

Since we are teachers who wake up with the sun every morning, we also go to bed early, so just to stay up past 11:00 for our bus was late. Needless to say, we slept on the bus. Hard. I know earlier that I wrote that thing about how thinking you can sleep on a plane or a bus is stupid, and even though we did sleep on this bus, this presented problems. I woke up a couple of times through the night to change positions, and then I woke up as we got to our final stop, and everyone got off the bus. Now, keep in mind that I had traveled through the night and had just woken up as I explain these next few sentences. When Jen and I got off the bus, we noticed lots of tacky "Honduras" things, and guys everywhere asking to change our money. I knew that Copan would be touristy, so I thought all this was normal. After being approached by several guys to change our money or ride a taxi, Jen and I just decided to walk with confidence down the street, don't look like clueless tourists, and get to our Hostel, which said it was within walking distance of the bus stop. All of a sudden, a guy's voice asked for our passports, and I was really confused. Why would someone ask for our passports in Copan? I turned around and saw an immigration official, and it was at that point when I started to put the pieces together (remember, I was on little sleep and had just woken up)---the money changer guys, the tacky Honduras stuff--and then I began to see taxis and busitos with Guatemala-Honduras signs on the side. Jen and I had confidently and ignorantly walked past the Honduran border into Guatemala. In my defense, there was no "Welcome to Guatemala" signs or even a gate of any sorts dividing the two countries. There was just 1 immigration official, who was very nice and didn't seem upset that two gringas just tried to rush his country. My favorite part about the whole situation was a little old man in a cowboy hat sweeping the garbage from the Guatemala side of the border to the Honduras side.

Then the question was raised: Where were we exactly and how far was Copan? The answer was Agua Caliente, and 3 hours.

We had slept through our bus stop, which was unannounced on an overnight bus where its dark outside and you can't see landmarks or signs of any sort...not like there are really any of those to begin with. We had a good laugh, got on another bus, slept some more, and told everyone we could on the bus where we were going so that we had about 5 people waking us up to let us know we were getting close to our stop. Good job guys.

The town of Copan Ruinas is totally cute, and bizarrily gringo-fied...almost to the point where you didn't know how to greet anyone---Do I speak in Spanish? English? German? Dutch? I think I can safely say that I saw more foreigners here in Copan than I have collectively in my time in Honduras.

Like the name implies, the town is famous for its Mayan ruins, which are the best preserved in the world. There were wild parrots everywhere, absolutely colossal trees that made it possible for the sun to only penetrate through the foliage in individual rays, and then through the brush there appears this gigantic Mayan palace and altar. We didn't pay for a tour guide, but we would hear bits and pieces as we walked around and we were very impressed by the facility. Carrying around my 30 lb. backpack, I climbed up to the top of the ruins and got an incredible view of the countryside and into Guatemala (I will be back Guatemala....and next time it will be on purpose!) The weather was also pretty nice, but that is also because we entered into the park at about 8 a.m....as we left it started getting hotter and the mosquitoes were out in full force near the end of our tour, so much so that we had to keep moving at all times to help prevent landage. We almost looked like Pigpen on Charlie Brown with this dark cloud around our bodies, except that it was mosquitoes and not dust. We've had those moments too though... (See: Weekend in Cedros, picture where I'm covered in mud).

Overall, I give the trip a thumbs up on the fun scale. In the post above you will find pictures of the town of Copan Ruinas, and the next post below you can see the actual ruins.

These are pictures from the amazing $4 a night hostel I stayed at in Copan Ruinas. If anyone's ever in the area, I'd completely recommend it.

And last but not least, our trusty back-packs. These are what make us truly travelers and not tourists, and Jen and I could probably impress just about anyone with the amount of stuff we are able to cram in here and how long we are able to carry these things for.

Weekend in Cedros

2006-11-12T18:53:00.000-06:00

So after asking us for the past two months, we finally took up Jorge on his offer to take us to his village out in the country for a weekend on the farm. Early Saturday morning we left El Hatillo, and after a ride on the school bus, a collectivo taxi, two chicken busses, and a 2 km hike we made it to Cedros...and all this before 9:00am. Cedros, population 1,500 (although I have no idea where all these people live since the town literally had three streets) is one of the oldest villages in the country, and is known for being the city in which the Honduran Constitution was written. It is still very traditional, with the main form of transportation being horses, and I'm pretty sure it was known amongst the people that there were visitors in the city...it seems like news would travel rather quickly in this town. What I had the hardest time getting over though was just how quiet it was there. For lunch Jen, Naomi, Jorge, and I sat at the only restaurant in town (which was pretty much in this family's living room) eating fresh enchilladas and looking through the front door, and in the hour and a half that we were there I don't think we saw a car drive by or heard anything louder than a casual conversation from someone walking by. Quite a change from my city of 3 million people, where it seems like I am always surrounded by noise, people, traffic, stray dogs, busses, beggars, music, and just the sounds of life in a big city. Although this weekend was a wonderful relaxing retreat, I think I would go crazy there from lack of entertainment, even if only in the form of visual stimuli.

After walking around the village for a little while, taking our time strolling the streets and eating ice cream, we made our way out to the Raudales family farm, which was 9 km outside of the village. We walked half the way and managed to catch a bus for the other part, and walked down the long, muddy trail that led to the farm. Right now we are in the heart of rainy season in Honduras, so everything is muddy, especially low-lying areas like this trail. But we made it to the farmhouse, slept in the hammocks on the porch for a little while, ate fresh guavas off the tree, and started back on the walk to Cedros when I slipped and fell in a huge mud puddle in the only clothes I brought for the weekend. I wasn't quite awake when we started walking, but I was definitely awake after becoming covered from the knee down in mud!

Looking all a mess, we hitched a ride in the back of a pick-up truck with a bunch of police who let us touch their AK-47's, ate at the restaurant, and walked around the town at night while music was played in the town-center for all the residents to enjoy. Later on, we sat out on the steps of the pulperia (which is like a local mini-convenience center of sorts) with our drinks and talking to all the locals and old friends of Jorge's until the owner of the pulperia threatened to call the cops on us (who were literally across the street...a whole 15 feet away) for breaking the town's curfew, which I think was 9:00p.m. on Saturday. Truly, this place is like a Mayberry of Honduras.

Up until this point, I have felt like my parents would hate to come and visit me in Honduras, but I know that they would have loved this little town. I'm planning on going back in January for the big town fair, which is when Jorge says that the town really comes alive. But until then, here are some pictures. Enjoy!

These views come from the belltower in the cathedral in the center of town.

Looking glorious, and as always, a shining example of gracefulness and beauty.

Couldn't this be the cover shot for the World Vision or Amnesty International Catalogue? This little girl and her family lived on the farm in a little tiny house and were responsible for keeping it up since none of Jorge's family live there permanently anymore---something along the lines of feudalism except with more humanity. I thought she was precious though and wanted to share :)

"D" is for Duck

2006-10-16T19:29:00.000-06:00

So today, we didn't have music class because the teacher was sick. I had to come up with something to occupy my kids for 40 minutes, and since we had just learned the letter "D", I decided to make my kids into ducks.

Its amazing what a little yarn and contruction paper can do...

Could my students possibly be any cuter?

Now You Can See My Homemade Videos!

2006-10-15T22:22:00.000-06:00

By clicking on this link, you should be able to view some of the short video clips that I have taken with my digital camera. Keep checking it too, because I will be posting more and more videos on here.

***NEW*** http://www.zippyvideos.com/5328953126342706/sjds_video/
Clip from my laying-out time at the beach...taken for no other reason but to make you wish you were here.

***NEW*** http://www.zippyvideos.com/9733426556279596/hpim0430/
This video footage was taken in Copan, Honduras.

http://www.zippyvideos.com/8953208846139766/hpim0360/
This is a clip from the local fruits & veggies market

http://www.zippyvideos.com/1257276326144886/shortened_classroom_intro/
This is a small introduction to my classroom in Honduras

http://www.zippyvideos.com/4734802436139866/kinder_c_students/
This clip shows my beautiful children singing

http://www.zippyvideos.com/2954883736149276/jam_session/
Late night jam-session on the compound

A Funny Little Anecdote...

2006-10-15T17:46:00.000-06:00

The other day I put out my vegetables for my maid to wash for me (since the process takes a little long with the soaking to completely disinfect everything) , and I left a small note which said
"Buenas Dias Rosy! Puede llavar las verduras en la bolsa? Gracias!"....which I thought said
"Good morning Rosy! Can you wash the vegetables in the bag? Thanks!"

What I actually said was "Can you take the vegetables in the bag?" The verb I wanted was LAVAR, 'to wash', and I wrote LLAVAR, which means 'to take'.

So I don't have vegetables. I think its pretty funny though.