Honduras; mosquitoes, rain, and one hundred amigos.

It is Monday morning. It has been raining almost steadily since Thursday night? It's hard to remember now. On Saturday it rained so hard the streets we're covered in inches of water and 4 foot deep rivers flowed quickly in the ditches on either side. We teach on Saturday and Sunday at the orphanage and at times we literally had to shout to be heard over the rain pounding the roof. It doesn't faze the people here. If you ask them "It's normal". I was taking a shower yesterday, marveling at how dirty I had become, only to realize when I hopped out it the water was bringing in the dirt. All our taps, toilets and showers are spewing muddy water. What was welcome relief, cooling off the town from the normally intense and humid heat, has gone on a bit too long for us. We wanted to go to the beach today, our day off, I don't think we will. We could go to the river outside our door if we wanted. 

As much as I complain the rain has only been one small part of experiences in Tela, Honduras. We arrived a little of two weeks ago and settled into the volunteer house just as two other volunteers were preparing to depart for home. Out house is quite big, a large kitchen, living room, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Colin and I have had it all to ourselves. We share a huge yard with another house. Our landlords, Roy and Dina live there. They have 5 dogs and a parrot that is always trying to bite us, and that shouts peoples names all day. We have quite a few fruit trees, coconut, star fruit, mango (though we will miss the season). Our house is located in what we have learned is the safer part of Tela. We can always walk to one of the three neighborhood grocery stores to get fresh produce or ice cream, and many nights sit out under bright lights to watch soccer played at one of the fields down the street, sometimes with a cold beer. Beer is consistently cold down here, and even by ten o'clock at night I am usually still sweating. The mosquitoes are another big part of our lives down here, and I know we have been a big part of theirs too. We do our best to keep doors closed, burn bug repelling stuff, and wear bug repellent. It is also a constant give and take between going shirtless because of the heat and risk many bites. At any given time one part or another of my elbow or foot will be covered, and it has become just another part of life here. Oh and yes we are still taking malaria medicine mom. Another cool part of Tela is the beach. We live about 2 km from it. The bus will take us right there and we ran there one day. The water is cool, and calm, great for swimming out and floating in under the sun that feels so close. We play a lot of chess ( a three and a half hour game last night that ended in a stale mate) and do a lot of push ups ( we've done a hundred pretty much every day since getting here, I did two hundred yesterday). We also often spend a lot of time cooking meals together, then cleaning up, and listening to NPR. We have a lot of time to do a few things which is usually really nice.

The biggest part of our lives, hardest and most enjoyable part, is our work at the orphanage that sits down the street from our house. The orphanage, called simply the S.O.S. is situated on a huge piece of fenced in land, mostly devoted to grass and several large to small trees. There are 14 houses, each with about ten kids, all ranging from 3-18, girls and boys. Each house has a house mom who lives there (we're pretty sure) and takes care of all the kids, cooks, cleans. More than that the kids think of their house mom as their mother, not only a woman who cooks, cleans, and looks after them. We have come to see how each house really views themselves as a family. The kids within a house call each other brother and sister. Even after they move out of the orphanage, the family bonds seem to remain, and is maintained through visits. The orphanage is quite remarkable in this respect, at least in my eyes. When walking the grounds, except for the security guard at the gate, no adults are in site. The staff are working away in their offices, the mothers are washing clothes or cooking in the houses. The kids run free, playing where and what they like within the safety of the fence, with very little monitoring. Along with kids playing, kids working, especially the older kids, is a fixture on the grounds. Also seemingly without much supervision kids (some who don't give a darn what we say in class) are raking leaves, cutting grass, and sweeping sidewalks. Colin and I have both commented how it feels like a little bit of paradise in many ways. The oldest kids seem to be a big part of the reason the orphanage works so well. Quite contrary to rebellious, these teens are extremely engaged in the community life at the orphanage. The way they care for and look after the younger kids is quite amazing. 

We teach 4 days a week (though we changed schedules this week and so worked 6 days), our normal schedule runs Wed-Sun. We have four classes and we take two each day; 3-6, 7-10, 11-14, 15- and up. The only direction we were given by the director, Denise ( a great energetic man, who sweats about as much as he laughs) was to teach an hour of English everyday. It has been quite a challenge, though a fun one at times, to come up with lesson plans for all the different age groups and skill levels. After the first morning with the 3-6 year olds both Colin and I felt like the class had been two hours of getting climbed, hit, laughed at , cried to; the entire range of the extreme and ever changing attentions of these little ones. Exhausting. All of the kids old enough started back at school after their summer break, Dec-Jan, one week after we arrived. Since mandatory school is back in session,they seem less inclined to voluntarily come to our classes, but we usually have at least a few dedicated to teach. The older kids especially want to learn English and we have had some really positive experiences teaching these class, seeing them improve in real ways. 

Teaching (or trying) has taught me some really important lessons. When we first started I had a lot of anxiety about it all; the kids weren't getting enough out of it, I could be teaching more, or teaching in better ways. Especially when we are teaching English, a whole language, using Spanish, it can feel overwhelming. I really have to accept what I can do, and believe that the days lesson we have prepared is exactly what we should be teaching, and will benefit the kids. This gives me the courage to get up in front of the class and stumble through explaining gerund (using ing) in Spanish. I think this can be applied to all areas of life. That our fears of being insufficient are the greatest threat to the gifts we have to offer others; the gifts themselves are plenty. Colin is a big life saver too, we can help each other out in class when one of us is struggling. 

Things will be changing soon. In four weeks, which is sure to fly by, my friend and travel companion Colin will probably be heading home. After spending some time in Belize with my dad, I will most likely be heading into Southern Mexico to begin working with an agricultural project. As far as I know I will be assisting two Mayan gardeners in two different garden projects, one at least that is attached to a restaurant(on the roof!) in the city where I'll live. That will probably last another four weeks and I will try to find another farm to go to, while also keeping my options open to prospects back in the U.S. I will be home certainly in August for Mary's wedding. This trip has had many phases. I feel the most settled in this phase for very obvious reasons. I also feel the least like I'm waiting to return home, Seattle or another city in the States. As exciting as traveling was, seeing lots of new places and new faces from week to week, the joys of even two weeks worth of building relationships and community are much more grounding. I feel at home here, more with myself and my environment than I have in awhile. It's pretty cool! Though talk to me at 8 am on a school morning when our lesson plan for the day is only okay...

Malaria Dreams

The Nicaraguan border greeted us with light sheets of rain, cold and gray, but still an extreme contrast to the buckets of water that fell for two days and a night in the coastal town of La Cieba, weather that delayed our hiking plans and eventually caused our hasty departure. With water leaking through the ceiling of our hostel, and rain still failing hard we decided to make our escape from Honduras. Cars up to their wheel wells in water, boating through city streets, we caught a glimpse of what the raining season must look like for this part of the country. We caught two buses to the capital city Tegucigalpa, arriving before midnight,  to a city closed down and seemingly deserted. For the first time during our travels there was no room at the hostel of our choosing, or the second, and the third was much too expensive. Our cab driver finally took pity on us and a cool 500 Lempiras (25 dollars) for delivering us to a cheap, vacant room he knew. A British fellow, Sam,  split the cost of the cab and the room with us, Colin and I split one of the two beds in our room. We slept about four hours  and then took off for a bus leaving at 6 a.m. for the la frontera de Honduras y Nicaragua, Sam and the rest of Tegucigalpa still sound asleep.

   

Men with thick wads of multi-colored bills, calling out for money exchanges, tiendas selling chips and drinks, dogs, chicken and geese crossing unchecked by guards across chain barriers. We filled out the necessary paperwork ourselves, while many stood in line to have it filled by workers for a small “tip”. After a brief wait in line, we stepped over the chain the geese had walked under and there we were, in our fourth Central American country in 6 weeks. Two more bus rides lay ahead of us, the second the packed with standing passengers right up to the door. We were among the seat-less for much of the journey, Colin practically the whole 3 hours. Exhausted we walked with our packs a few blocks to Hospedaje Chepito in the city of Esteli. This city is set in a agricultural valley, in the northern Nicaraguan Highlands. The temperature is warm during the day, hot in direct sunlight, but like many of the mountainous regions we’ve visited, clouds and cool breezes keep the peace. Nighttimes cool of a little. After long afternoon naps and late cups of coffee we learned, by talking until the first noises of morning workers, the temperatures after sunset  don’t change much till sunrise.

The city is very alive. Our hostel is located on a street where shops selling shoes, fashionable clothes, cowboy boots and belts, stretch unbroken for several blocks, meeting up with the Parque Central. Like many Central American cities we’ve seen,  a Catholic church sits just off the park, right in the thick of life in the city. Yesterday we wandered through a huge produce market, taking photos, marveling at the bounty, bags of fiery red peppers, tomatoes in heaps, and sampling fruits we had never seen before. We had our first soy here in Esteli, soy tacos at Licuados Anandas, a vegetarian focused eatery, and delicious Cuban sandwhiches at Rincon Pinareno.

Tomorrow we plan to explore Somoto, a area of waterfalls and a river carved canyon, about an hour and a half bus-ride from town. We failed to make the 730 am wakeup call to head there this morning (we blame the late naps and the chorus of roosters, that like to check in long before day break). On Tuesday we head to Managua, the capital, to pick up our old friend and comrade Steven Payne, who is flying down for eight days. We hope to catch a biesbol game in Managua before heading to Leon, one of the more famous and beautiful sounding colonial towns Nicaragua has to offer. Final good news is that Colin and I have been accepted to volunteer for HondurasChildren, an organization that provides housing, educational assistance, and activities for children no longer living with their families. We will head back to the Northern Honduran coast for the beginning of February to begin working. We started taking Malaria medication once we knew it was a possibility we would be living in this area. We’d heard that a side effect can be intensified dreaming, and we both agree that our dreaming has become much more vivid. I have taken to writing down some of the more memorable ones, which recently have been after every night and nap. Speaking of sleep, Colin just woke up as his snoring peaked. We will probably start thinking about food soon, a major occupier of our time here, and source of pleasure. Tonight I think it will be taco’s again, but with the real stuff this time…

5 Weeks Later

Andrew and I have been here for over 5 weeks now. We are in our third country now (Guatemala, El Salvador, and now Honduras). At the moment I'm feeling that life is pretty dang easy here. Broadly speaking, there are two kinds of days. Travel days are spent on a series of cramped, hot, and often stinky American school buses as we ride from one arbitrarily chosen destination to the next. At the beginning these journeys were pretty rough, but I think both Andrew and I have gotten used to them. We typically read, sleep, and/or listen to podcasts, music, and we recently finished listening to Dreams from My Father (Obama's first book) which was really good. Most days we wake up in a hotel/hostel in a city, town, village, etc. and determine what we'd like to do that day. Some of my favorite days so far have revolved around swimming in cool water after being out under the hot sun. We've swam in giant mountain lakes, rivers and creeks, and the big beautiful Pacific Ocean. My proudest moment so far was jumping off a 40 foot bridge into a river (to his credit Andrew jumped first). Often, we spend a good deal of time searching out good and cheap food that comes in huge portions. I think I've had enough beans, rice, tortillas, and fried chicken to last me through the remainder of 2011. We are buying fresh produce (pineapples, oranges, tomatoes, avocado) on the street pretty regularly and even bought apples from the Yakima Valley recently! The signs of globalization are ubiquitous down here. Almost everyday I buy ice cream of some sort- never eaten so much before. Today, we caught a few buses to a big waterfall where we swam, saw multiple species of lizards (some that were nearly a foot long), found some sad caged monkeys, and watched vultures fly overhead.

To slaves of The Man this lifestyle may sound pretty sweet, but as with all things, it can feel boring and is hard to appreciate at times. Funny the way that works. Andrew and I were hoping to be volunteering before we meet up with Steven in Nicaragua January 19th but all our opportunities kind of fell flat. True to character we definitely procrastinated a little too much. Some friends we made while traveling told us about an organization on the coast of Honduras that works with orphans and teaches English to children. They volunteered with this organization for a few months and had a good experience. We are applying over the next few days. I'm looking forward to living in one place for more than a few days, finding a sense of community again, and having something close to a schedule.  In the meantime we are going to spend the next two weeks criss-crossing Honduras. 

a long few days - by Andrew

In the last several months, pre and post graduation, inevitably conversations I had would turn to my plans for the future, to life not layed out in structured class schedules, 10 week quarters, and the inimate community of Seattle U. This trip became the next thing for me, I worked jobs I didn't love with the this goal in mind. What are you going to do when you're down there -there is no up or down in space- and I would respond with the a very general...well, I want to improve my Spanish, and farming is an interest of mine, so volunteering on organic farms will be another focus. Other than that I was excited to immerse myself once again in Latin culture, and travel with a best friend, Colin, as we hadn't had a chance to live together in college like we'd hoped to in highschool. Well before it was time to leave, me and Colin both expressed fatigue of talking about the trip, mostly because we didn't have a good idea of what we were going to do, and so what to tell people who asked.

In some ways I feel like I have even less of an idea now that we are down here. But I'll discuss some of the trips events before getting back to my thoughts on whats happened so far. We arrived at about 8 on Wednesday night and caught a cab out of Guatemala city to Antigua where we had already made reservations to study at a Spanish school. Antigua isn't far from Guatemala but with traffic it took over an hour, maybe close to two. Much of what I first saw reminded me of Ecuador, the highfences and barred windows, the seemingly hectic driving -they actually really know what they're doing- the nice American fast food restaruants, McDonalds, Burger King, and Dominos -strange-. We got out at our hostel, Jungle Party, and checked into rooms, that for me and Colin, consisted of beds in one large room, accessed by ladder, in what was almost an attic, kind of a loft as the description claimed. We were ok with Jungle Party at first but quickly came to resent the loud music beginining early and loud, the construction beginning earlier, and the iron first with which the wardens ruled - no outside food or drink, outrageous! We spent our first few days exploring the city of Antigua which is full of beautifully constructed buildings, in colonial fashion, many in ruins, some restored and in use. We went out for some live music, disappointed only by the 1 am mandatory closure of all bars in Guatemala. We upgraded hostels, Hostel Dionisio, where we payed the same for a room for five -coworkers of Colin's from the campaign joined us- in a hostel where no music or sawing woke us up, the wifi worked, and a pleasant roof top balconey gave spectacular views of surrounding volcanoes. We loved our new place, and Jungle Party will have to face the consequences of their underwhelming services -Colin plans to write a scathing review and post it wherever it will reach the most travellers, warning all to not cross us, let us sleep. Antiguas streets are cobblestone, and rattle the heck out of the cars, and many scooters and motorcycles ridden by men, women, and children, often at the same time. The street food has been quite excellent, popussas, corn flour patties grilled with pork or cheese inside, and toppped with guacamole, cabbage, and other tasty things. We have found a market to buy everything from dvd's, -Social Network and Hot Tub Time Machine- watches - a bit of a rip, fresh fruits and vegetables, and the flashiest, christmas song singing lights I have ever seen. The weather here is extremely pleasant, with the hot sun cooled by generous clouds and fresh breezes. A light sweater and pants is the coldest its been.

I will leave off here and to let colin take over, describe what else we have done in the last few days. I am through one day of Spanish lessons con Christina. She laughed often at my concentrated brows, I appeared "hangry!" I made a few funny slips that lead me to learn the verb to shit - cagar. I am living with a local family, Ceasar y Carmen and their daughter who I haven't met as she was at work when I moved in. I have a cozy upstairs room, next to a balcony overflowing with plants and flowers. It isn't fancy but it is beautiful, colorful, and full of life.

More than the language barrier, which affected me so strongly the last time I traveled, this trips open nature, the ability to choose all aspects, has left me at somewhat of a loss. This is why I feel in over my head, where as in Ecuador it was the inability to communicate. I am doing enjoyable things, enjoying my time here with Colin, and yet have experienced some profound loneliness and sense of inertia about my future, both here and after. haha, heavy for a first few days, but I trust on some level I am passing through a trialing phase of this trip and life. All things will pass. Now I need to get home, finish some tarea before dinner with my family. Ceasar promised some guitar playing tonight, he is a music teacher for a middle school, and I know he's good, I want to be ready. I miss family and friends very much up here, but take comfort, as you should, in the fact that I haven't spent too much time in the bathroom. adios!