Just a couple observations….

Glue Sniffing

There are a few handfuls of men in Siguatepeque that could be labeled “Glue Sniffers”. Generally they can be identified by the wooden box they carry containing shoe polish, shoe glue, wood glue and other sniffable items. I have made acquaintance with one of these glue sniffing hombres. I think his name is Manuel. He frequents the town polishing people’s shoes and begging a lempira or two. Manuel has kind eyes and can’t be much over 22. One night Oscar and I were walking across the road when who should we see but Manuel. He could not function properly. Under his arm was a gallon can of paint and his glue box sat discarded on his side. He was slumped against the side of a building, his eyeballs rolling around in his head. He couldn’t talk or stand or really anything. Oscar said he needed food and I happened to have a pack of crackers in my purse. Manuel ate the crackers and then passed out. Now I have seen a lot of people under the influence of a lot of drugs before. I must say the effects of glue sniffing are by far the strangest I have seen. I hope that the desire to sniff glue doesn’t haunt my friends and family like it has haunted so many people in this country. I suppose when cocaine, marijuana, crack, etc. are too expensive and unavailable glue will have to do. Sitting in front of Pizza Venecia I see all sorts of people pass by. Lots of time you see little barefoot kids riding bikes and begging a lempira. Then you see their role models: pre-teen boys with little cans of paint and miniature glue boxes begging a lemp. These kids will grow up to be the Manuels of the town completely addicted to the scent of glue by the time they are 20. These kids are mostly orphans with time to kill and no money to their names. Some of them might sleep in under construction buildings, some maybe with an uninterested uncle. They probably don’t go to school, or haven’t been in years. I am not sure what the city or country as a whole is doing about this problem.

Yes Miss.

These little liars. I think that part of the National Psyche is to say yes yes yes, when you really mean no no no. “Did you study for your test?” “YES Miss!” “Will the house be finished next week?” “YES Miss!” “Can you fix our water tank?“ “YES Miss!” “Is something being done about the glue sniffing problem in Siguatepeque?“ “YES Miss!” I empathize ever so slightly. Sometimes you don’t want to disappoint so you tell a little white lie. However, it is hard to set your expectations accordingly when you are always told yes- and see in time the answer should have been no. I am a pretty understanding person. Usually with a small explanation of why the answer is no, I understand. This whole yes yes yes is starting to get old old old.

The cutest little pig and that animal smell

On the corner of our street there is a farm. There is a house and a yard slightly bigger than our own and a fence around the yard. These people must have a 8:1 animal: person ratio. There are ducks, chickens, roosters, ugly ducks, dogs, cattle, pigs, peacocks and more. Sometimes they pack the whole herd of cattle into the yard. This means about 20 cows and lots of smell. There is a little pig that lives at the farm. It is little and pink and has a curly tail. I love that little pig. Every time I pass he is sticking is nose into the muddy ditch. He’ll look up and his nose will be filthy. It might be permanently stained. He makes my day more often then you might think. As you might imagine the farm is rather odorous. Today when I passed the farm I thought it smelled remarkably like Honduran cheese. Then I processed the smell even further. It was that animal smell; farm smell. It smells just like Honduran cheese. I knew I recognized the cheese smell from somewhere!

Manners

It seems that Hondurans for the most part have impeccable manners. When you greet someone you shake their hand or give them a kiss on the cheek. You always say buenos dias, buenas tardes, buenas noches, por favor, gracias. Schmoozing is first nature to these people and they have not lost the art of flirting as many United States Americans have. I find that when someone has good manners they are often a flirt. Being cordial, courteous, gracious, hospitable all require certain finesse with people. This is dangerous territory for me. I am a sucker for good manners and a little charm. I also find that my own manners are atrocious in comparison. Be it that my Spanish is so rudimentary and I am just barely able to get by or that the charm I once thought I possessed is nothing compared to Hondurans. I need to keep practicing my social etiquette if I want my charm to translate. But let me tell you - here in Honduras chivalry is not dead….and that is okay with me.

Westerners

Why is it that people from Europe, Australia, Canada and the US are called westerners? If you look at a map you will see that these countries are not all in the west. I am a westerner because I am from Oregon, not because I am from the developed world. What an incorrect use of the word west. If you can shed some light, please do.