jessa mariá se fue al rio

el fin

2009-07-17T04:59:00.000-07:00

720 days after first arriving in Honduras, I find myself packing my life into two bags and heading for home again.

To think of myself 720 days ago. I had no grasp of the Spanish language. I knew next to nothing about this country. I had no idea if La Orquidea was a real school, or some strange cult I got myself into. I certainly had no idea that the Rio Cangrejal existed or that I would spend half of my time in Honduras on its banks.

Leaving kills me a little bit. I know that it is time to go, but I know that I am leaving something for good. My relationship with this place will change dramatically once I am gone; my life moving in a different direction whist jungle life remains pretty much the same. I was born with opportunity and it would be ridiculous not to take advantage of those opportunities. What I am going to do when I get home is not certain. I can't say if I will stay in the US, or travel some more after a time, or hunker down right there in Portland, OR. I will go through a million ideas with fresh excitement each time and only a few plans will actually pan out. I know myself.

Entonces, An adios. Jungle River Lodge, La Ceiba, Banana Republic Guest House, El Naranjo, all provided a home to me. A place to set my things and rest my bones. Andrea. Without you I would have been lost and lonely. Mi hermana de la jungle, for sure. Only we know. Famila Saravia. Took me in like one of their own. Tania, Franklin, Dania, Pedro, Jose Angel. Taught me to look at life from the other side. Love and forgiveness. Darwin. Unconditionally and always. Tocasteme alma.

Part of living abroad is being flexible everyday. I wanted to stay here for a long time.....and it didn't work out. I have to be okay with that and not force something that can't be. Instead, I need to rethink what I want to do. If I want to continue in this path of grassroots development I can.....I just will need to dedicate myself in a different way. I have meet many people here in Honduras that want to do similar things as me. Perhaps in the future we will be able to combine out ideas and efforts and make something happen, for real.

I have fulfilled a couple of childhood dreams by being here on the Rio Cangrejal.
I have lived in the jungle.
I have learned a new and widely spoken language.

I also fulfilled dreams I didn't even know I had until I started living them.
White water rafting
Scuba Diving
Birds

I am sad that certain things ended rather than flourished. Asi es la vina.
D.E.G.H.
E.B.M.A. de el naranjo.

Well enough with the goodbyes. I have to get going. Hopefully there will be no roadblocks today and I can get to the airport without any hitches. As soon as I get out of this country it will be smooooth sailing to portland!

Adios!

i went to the jungle.

2009-04-20T18:22:00.000-07:00

I lived in a wooden tree house pearched on top of the riverside. Tucans and motmots would fly overhead hourly. The beautiful, everchanging river passed below. I sat in a hammock overlooking it all whislts the rains passed and we experienced those beautiful days when the river was full and warm and I could swing with the kids all afternoon on the vine swing in the quebrada.

I lived in the center of El Naranjo....an extension of one of the largest families in El Naranjo. I'll try and break it down.
Acosta is the family name.
Abrosia Acosta is 107 years old. She has 15 kids.
Each of them have about 8 kids.
Each of those kids have about 4 kids
I don't think any of those kids have kids yet.

That makes about 480 Acostas running around my house.
Okay so it wasn't quite like that, but sometimes felt that way

I really admire this family. They have a totally different set of priorities from myself, but they take in and care for guests. I was so well cared for. I was another mouth to feed and a body in the bed. Beans and rice it was.....sometimes i secretly bought churroz from the pulperia to add a variety to my diet. Sometimes I bought 15 packs of churroz so it wouldn't have to be a secret and we could eat them together. Living in a family like that, you are obligated -- and you want-- to take care of your brother, sister, cousin, second cousin, third cousin, sister in laws cousin AND the strange gringa that is living in your house and washing her clothes so peculiarly in the pila. Honduras is a selfless place. Hondurans take care of one another when it comes down to it.

Two of my dearest honduran friend are Wilmer and Christina. Wilmer sort of loves me and I sort of love him.......Iit is not a romantic love, anyway. It's brotherly. And Christinia is a woman I will respect until the end. She is single handedly raising three children. The youngest with Down Syndrome. She does not give a shit or put up with shit, yet is so full of compassion and love and can't even be in the same room as her without wanting to jump into her arms.

I am not quite una mujer completa....which is okay with me.

I lived with the artisanas Saravia. In a tree house, in the main house, in a hammock, in a tent on the beach, at the top of the waterfall. I climbed through the jungle. I climbed over the rocks, I climbed into caves, I climbed into the crystaline blue waters of the Rio Cangrejal. I refined my bird eye, my bird ear, my bird love.

Donki the jungle dog lost a leg in an accident and now lives in a yard in the city of La Ceiba
The ocelote (jaguar like animal that lived at the lodge through the rainy season) ate one of the Scarlet Macaws.
i miss my pets.

I stopped working at the Banana Republic and Jungle River Lodge. (not because of the pet accidents....because it was time)

I didn't work at all for awhile.

I started working at Omega Tours. The competition.
Julie came to visit.
I got to know the peeps at Omega.
Tangwen, Oh why we didn't meet before.
I learned all about the geography of the south island of New Zealand
I learned all about Argentinean cuisine
I learned that the Black Forest is in Southern Germany
all in one night.
I work with people just like me everyday.
Living a life on the road, dreaming becomes reality. Honoring your life however unconventional. People of the modern world. Educated in a similar manner as I.

I feel like I have crept out from under a mossy cave. I love that jungle, I love that river with everything in my pores. I know that I still have a bit to learn from the place. All the birds yet to know. All the adventures yet to have. To the remote, inner parts of the jungle. To higher waterfalls. Crazier birds and lizards. I know how to watch out for the tamagas negra. I know how to climb the rock faces by using the vines. I know how to make some badass green bananas in the campfire and where to find the camerones to cook on a stick.

And I have time for that. I also have a little time to hang out in Ceiba and figure out some life plans while I take care of a 2 month old baby. Thats this months adventure. The creature of the moment is not a jungle creature but a tiny little baby. Zeke is his name and I will write more about him in the next posting.

I know oregon home is on the horizon. I want to see how I feel about the jungle from my mind's eye. And I want to keep in mind the rest of the world. I know though that I want to spend Thanksgiving with my family.

Now I am going to bake some cookies in honor of the holidays. (Earth Day is the 22nd, don't forget to do something kind for your planet).

Cheque Leque.

2009-02-28T12:29:00.000-08:00

There is no doubt these people are very special people. You can't meet one of them and not be drawn by their charisma. This family has been taught to dream and feel life as it happens around them. They have lived on the side of the Rio Cangrejal for near to 20 years.

Jose Angel was drawn to the river one night from the nearby department on Colon. With him was his son, some fishing gear and a couple of his fishing/drinking buddies. They made their way from Colon to the Rio Cangrejal in a rickity old car and when they reached the river they could only drive maybe a mile before they had to get out and walk up the river banks.

5 year old, Darwin sat on the side of the river staring at his father in horror as Jose Angel and his friends jumped into the white water. He was certain they would get swept away into the sea. It was the middle of the night and he was cold, hungry and very uncertain. To his suprise, Jose Angel was not swept downriver and instead emerged from the water with giant crabs and frehswater fish. They built a fire right there on the rocks and feasted. Darwin, with his belly full, fell asleep to the sounds of the river.

I began meeting the Saravia family they first time I went to the jungle. Darwin, the handsome and incredibly charming rafting guide, drew out my idealism and happiness again after a rough year when I thought I truely had no more idealism left. I have yet to meet someone who lives so at the perimeters of what is my traditional and cultural norm. He is moved by inpiration; his family, the weight of the river, the breeze in the trees. He is ever present in the moment, lives with little responsibility and no regrets.

Since meeting Darwin I have come to find the apple does not fall far from the tree. I have spent the past month going up to the river in the days but not to the Jungle River Lodge. Instead I found myself swinging leisurley in one of the hammocks en la casa en la casa de Jose Angel. This family is creating a riverside palace of tree houses and arts and crafts. Ideas are tossed around and fantastical stories are told. Yesterday we had a perfectly reasonable conversation about the exsistance of a blood sucking animal in the jungle, a relation of the vampire of course. With a glint in his eye, Jose Angel said that I should be exspecially careful because they really liked light skinned guapas.

They are enterprising. All hands are occupied as they create wooden sculptures. All of the children of Jose Angel (in order of apperence in this world: Darwin, Nolberto, Pedro, Ana, Dania, Franklin, Tania) have a hand in the business. Darwin and Pedro are currently building a new tree house. Tania and Franklin are the sanders, Pedro carvers, Dania makes bracelets and necklaces with the help of Tania and Ana. Nolberto has helped build the tienda to sell the goods. Jose Angel is the business man, making trips to La Ceiba to aquire materials and marketing the souveniers to tourist shops.

Yesterday, as he was building the foundation of the newest treehouse, Darwin filled me up with his big dreams. Tipico restaurant for passerbyers, souvenirs made by the family, kayak school, spanish school, camping on the banks of the cangrejal, all thw while embracing their river culture and family tradition. Their hospitality and ability to dream big will make them succeed.

Muñeca del hostel

2009-01-25T10:08:00.001-08:00

I work at a hostel in La Ceiba, Honduras. La Ceiba is the gateway to the Bay Islands - CHEAPEST PLACE TO DIVE IN THE WORLD: One of the most beautiful reefs in tropical waters. Everyday I see aproximatley 20 Scuba enthusiasts. Some are enthusiasts because that is their life, they dive. These are the people that move out to Utila for 5 months and get their dive master and instructor certifications. They are also the people who come to La Ceiba to buy cases of O´dooles beer, somthing you can´t just get on Roatan. They are stuck on the islands indefinatley.

There are also general travelers. I will break them up into two groups.

First there are those who are away from home for a five or more. Secondly, there are those traveling for a shorter period of time.

Within these subgroups you have a multitude of categories people fall into. You have the sojourners, the party girls from Sweden, the blokes from England away for the holidays, the young and retired civil engineer from France, the couple just married traveling the world together, the couple that will be married at the end of their trip, the pair that are not really enjoying the company they keep, the childhood bestfriends fulfilling their dreams of travel, the young woman trying to suck all the beauty out of the world, the drunk, the cracked out italian who thinks that he can get by speaking italian, the smooth talker, the argentine from nebraska..sigh......oh there are so many strange people that pass through.

These people have plenty of stories to tell. Antidotes more than anything. I see a small snippet of their life, the life they are choosing to live, the character they are choosing to be. I know nothing of their pasts; they are totally anonymous to me.

All these people are so different, but I serve the same purpose to each of them. To take their money and offer them a little advice for their next bit of travel. Every single day, only about 8 times, do I give directions to ¨somewhere good and cheap to eat¨(super baleadas, out the door to your left, left at the corner, its on the right down a block). The ferry leaves at 9am and you want to leave from here about 8:15. The ATM machine is three blocks down, HSBC on the left, Banco Atlantida on the right and if you want to get a bottle of water or some beers also you should go to the ATM at the Texaco station. Wireless internet? We have it here.

Its not the fault of these travelers that they are only the zillionth person that has passed through my life in the past 7 months with exactly the same agenda. It cracks me up when people ask for me to book them a taxi to the ferry dock and seem like it is a spactacular request. Of course we´ll have taxis in the morning to the ferry....we´re on it.

This is a lonely little lifestyle of mine, muñeca del hostel. I don´t know these people nor will I ever. I sense its time to divorce myself from the tourist scene for a bit. Ahora me voy en dentro de la jungla. cheque.

nope, WE

2009-01-04T10:57:00.000-08:00

WE are going to build a school. And an NGO. Año nuevo, vida nueva and it is time to make things happen and find people who are ready to make this happen. Who´s ready? Get your game shoes on and meet me on the river!

I am going to build a school.

2008-12-16T16:05:00.000-08:00

I have been told repeatedly in my life that I have good luck. That I skate through things. I think this is because I live my life in a manner that I don’t have set expectations and I am usually pleased with the way things turn out….because its just life, right? There is a downfall to this philosophy, or way of life because I often don’t set expectations too far out of reach. I strive for what I know is comfortable and feels right. So when I do something that requires bravery I am scared out of my mind.

I am going to build a school. Just like that. A school that will one day educate 60 students at a time to become community leaders and environmental stewards.

So far all of this work seems simple enough. The land has been donated by Oscar Perez of the Jungle River Lodge. I happened upon a man in La Ceiba that is here with Engineers without Boarders who has designed the plans for the school. I have met with handfuls of people doing development work in Honduras who support the idea and are intrigued. I talk with travelers passing through who often are connected with organizations in various parts of the world who have money to donate to projects similar to this one. I am talking, talking, my tongue out.

And I don’t want this to be all talk. I want action. The project proposal is in its final stages. The bank account exists. The budget is being nailed out. It all has to do with the money. If money can come in as freely as everyone I have talked to has indicated, then we are set. We will be in motion and we can actually build this school. We can actually invite teachers and we can actually bring students to school. We can start producing things on the farm. We can start creating the future leaders of El Naranjo.

I suppose that even though we don’t have a school house or professionally trained bilingual environmental education teachers, we are still imparting important information to the community. We have classes once a week for the students during the vacations for English mostly. Health and environmental stewardship are themes of all the classes….mixed in with lots of games and activities, of course. The people in the community I have developed relationships with at excited about the possibilities that lie ahead and are interested what possibilities could lie ahead for them in the future.

Winter in my family always has been a time of hibernation. When a bear hibernates I am sure he goes into some state of meditation. While I don’t think I have spent the last month in a constant state of hibernation or meditation, like perhaps bears in Montana are currently, this rainy season has been a time of awareness and reflection.

I have become so close to the jungle family that surrounds me. They bother me sometimes, sometimes they hurt my feelings, they pick on me a little bit, and most importantly they love and care about me. And we are all experiencing life together at this moment in time.

I can easily see greatness in people and the possibilities they possess (another fault of mine….seeing possibilities in people rather than appreciating people for who they are right then). I saw some changes in the past month with some of the people closest to me. I saw one person in particular stop and look at himself critically and change what he thought needed to be changed. Since this realization occurred he has taken on responsibilities and seems to be excited for his own future and what he wants to do for himself. It is inspiring to me to see a change like this. It makes me feel a little more confident about building a school. I too can take on unfamiliar responsibility and work a little harder for what is important to me. Gracias compadre.

Tonight I write from the jungle. Candles surround me and the light from the computer screen is burning holes into my eyes. I am listening to salsa music and the river. When the wind blows the candles soften and I am cold. I am totally alone here except the 5 guests, who have all gone to bed, and the watchman. What a peaceful place. I will sleep soundly tonight lulled to sleep by the river, and when I wake up in the morning the first thing I will see is the rainforest. Shoot. I got it. While maybe a little on edge, I am still happy.

2008-11-18T14:46:00.001-08:00

We did it! The village of El Naranjo came together and cleaned up their community. The work leading up to the clean up day was just as much fun as the actual day. It was neat to build a vibe for something and I am starting to feel more apart of the community.

Angel was a giant help from the day we started the plans. He went into the village with me countless times and passed out garbage bags and spread the word about el Dia de Limpieza. He and Darwin prepared the endless pounds of pollo y carne de rez. And on the actual day of the clean up Angel was the first one there and the last one to leave, manning the grill the whole time. Having his help, and Darwin´s too, made the day successful. They knew all the right things to do to ensure the community´s full participation.

The Marzapan School (owned and operated by Standard Fruit Company....Dole Bananas and Pinapples) in La Ceiba, kindly donated about 8 bags of clothes and shoes to the commuity, which we passed out in exchange for bags of trash.

Over 150 bags of trash were collected and hopefully the people of El Naranjo are enjoying living in a clean community!

I had a much more personal experience last week as well. I went rafting for 7 hours down mostly Class IV and V rapids. For those of you savvy rafters you know that Class V rapids is as big as them come. This was a true test of strength and endurance. I was scared shitless for basically 7 hours. Each time we passed through a rapid my mind was absolutly clear. The only thing I could do was look ahead and paddle with all the strength I posess in my body. Afterwards, as we floated to the next rapid passing through the rainforest my mind was clear and my heart was free and able to process what I am doing here.

I can´t explain the change that occured in me on the river that day. I exposed myself to this place, to this river. I know that I am vunerable but I can´t shrink because of it. I must be strong and go boldy. The river is best, but once again forgiving.

rainy daze

2008-10-20T17:35:00.000-07:00

Last week the rain started. The vibes in the air were similar to that of a snow day in Portland. Everyone was a little excited to pull out their sweaters and raincoats and sit cozily inside somewhere.

I woke up last Wednesday to the sound of rain. I brushed my teeth and then went downstairs to see Maura and Nando and continue to watch the rain fall. As the guests pulled their luggage out of the dorms on their way out of town- be it to Utila or to somewhere far, far away like Managua- there was a certain sense of dread. Soggy from the night before, these travelers were in no mood to be wet any longer.

I had been feeling a similar angst for a couple of days, though the weather had been favorable. I think I felt a change in air pressure in my bones and mi alma was a bit unsettled. At the last minute I decided to join the two guests that were headed up to the lodge.

We loaded their luggage into the jeep. The guests sat inside the jeep with Johnny and Don Nando and I guarded the bags in the back. Despite my plastic poncho and umbrella, I was soaked by the time we got to the lodge. I changed my clothes (thank you Andrea!) but not before I took in the sight of the swollen, angry river.

It was the most refreshing sight I´d seen in days. In the days prior, I could feel this torment coming and suddenly there was a release. I could feel the melancholy washing away from me. My heart felt light again.

I stood on the rocks with Wilmer and Jorge and we watched as Queso kayak down the suddenly Class VI rapids that would turn into a giant hole within the hour. As the water continued to raise so did our excitement.

The two guests stared out at the river in so much shock that they asked for a taxi back to La Ceiba so they could get on that bus to somewhere far, far away.

Los muchachos del rio, however, were not going to wait for toursits to go down. The drug themselves from bed, the kitchen, the village, pulled on their salva vidas, got the raft and were pulled away into the currents. They were back within the hour as the chocholatey waters moved them downriver so fast.

That afternoon back in La Ceiba, Andrea, Darwin and I had some delicious sopa cangrejo. I helped Darwin with his laundry remembering the delight of fresh from the drier clothes. We lounged in the hammocks reading books, watching the rain continue to fall.

It looks like this is going to be how it is for the next month or so. The season is low and the rain is falling. Trips on the river are getting further apart, and when they happen there is a new vitality and excitement in finding out how the river has gently changed.

Some of the guides like to jazz up the guests by shouting ¨whose the best!? we`re the best!!¨ after completing a rapid. But I must agree with one jungle boy, who instead praises the strength of the river after each rapid ¨The river is the best¨. It is so powerful and so dangerous.....but when you properly pay attention to the mood of the river, it allows you to navagate. It is strength and knowledge that moves us safely down the river. Muchas gracias guias y rio.

The night the rain began we went out with Oscar and Angel to Expatriados to watch the Honduras vs Jamaica futbol game. Funny that these two teams are in in the same qualifying foursome for the World Cup. I must say I wasn´t too sad that Honduras lost.....I still feel such a giant love in my heart for Jamaica. But I do love the Honduran team and will cheer for them from now on.

Today the river is still lleno. Raul took Nando and I to the lodge for the day just because he is the nicest man on the planet. In the morning I watched Spiderman while Darwin and Angel made us breakfast and in the afternoon we took the jeep to Rio Viejo.

Darwin, being in quite an informative mood, told us all about all sorts of things en la cuenca. We found Luis and Adelman hanging out on the roadside, so we took them and Tania, la hermanita, along with us. The road winds up and there are stunning views that overlook the river. The sun did its best to peek out and for the two hours we were on the road the rain let up.

The drive reminded me so much of driving around in the country truck in the Jamaican Cockpit Country with Donovan, Dixon and Rhoads. The villages are tiny and smokey and full of naked children and chickens. Darwin stopped and talked to a handful of people about the price and availibility of 5 manos de maiz. Dazzling children smiled at us and everyone waved from their yards and we breezed by. Yo amo las aldeas.

It is still raining. I am comfy and warm in La Ceiba. I have a cup of coco and a long sleved shirt on. I put the quilt on my bed (fresh from the drier! I can´t wait to go to bed!) and I know that I can expect to be lulled to sleep by the sound of rain on banana leafs. Sueños dulces......

hay mas!

2008-10-13T20:46:00.000-07:00

I have not updated this blog in so long that I have a little catching up to do. It does seem to be a pattern that once a sence of routine is established I neglect the blog.

I went home to the states for just about 3 weeks. What a wonderful trip that was. Apart from not being able to see my grandmas, my aunts and uncles and Ethan, I had a perfect trip. I went to the beach. I had a great time at Andrea´s house for my birthday. I spent quality time in the woods with my Mama. I had a waffle taco with Lydia in the Pennisula Park rose gardens. I hooked up my ipod with tons of new music. I played the Nintendo Wi for the first time and let my brother kick my ass boxing. I rode bikes and went on a beautiful hike along the Mackenzie River. I spent a lazy afternoon watching TV on DVD on a very comfortable couch. I ate tons of good food. I spent quality time in yet another rose garden talking about the state of our nation with grandpa. I went to Canby to see the VanSants and Lee´s family. I became good friends with the love of Julie´s life. I went to Washington DC for the first time and felt a little patriotic for the first time in a long, long time. I learned who Sarah Palin was and that while it seems like a joke, she really does represent the other half of the country. I learned a lot about our capitalistic economy, and saw confirmation of what I have thought was coming for a long time.

I love my country because of the opportunities I have been provided in my life. I am not from a wealthy family yet I have always had access to outstanding education. My work ethic is basically a birthright and I have almost an unlimited ability to travel.

The love ends there unfortunately. I don´t need to get into it, nor do I really want to. I prefer who I am when I live abroad and I enjoy my life more. I like that I can´t be on auto pilot in Honduras because I don´t understand the culture well enough. I can´t make assumptions and can´t generalize. I don´t feel obliged to consume so much here and that makes my body and mind feel much more at ease. I like the simplicity of life here and the company I keep these days helps me to remain grounded but not forgetting about the endless possibilities of happiness.

That being said. I came back and quickly resumed my life on the river. I can´t explain how happy I was to come back. Everyone was just as excited to see me as well. I love the hugs and kisses of a proper return. Between reuniting with my family and friends in Oregon and coming back to Honduras (where hugs and kisses are a daily greeting) I was showered with hugs and kisses for almost a solid month!

After a week of settling back into the groove of things here, I was sent off again to Copan Ruinas for a development conference. And what an inspiring conference it was! I finally feel like I can actually make some headway in El Naranjo. We are going to create a school: Escuela Bilingue Medio Ambiente de El Naranjo. As soon as the initial plans are written down I will post them on the FUGENA blogspot and you can read all about it!

I want to write for a minute about Andrea, my new BFF. This girl is one of the coolest 19 year olds I have ever known…..and I have spent A LOT of time with girls her age. She has come from Kingston, Ontario to work at the Jungle River Lodge. She jumped on a plane to come down and learn a little more about rafting without knowing anything about what she was getting into. Seeing that we are the only two foreigners we have become quite close. She seems to have an old soul….. she is quite level headed and super chill. She likes to get dressed up in pretty dresses, loves the new Girl Talk album as much as I do and can dance! I can´t tell you how happy I am that she is here! One day she will leave to go back to Canada but I plan on prolonging her departure as much as possible!

As for the rest of my buddies here….everyone is good. Angel has done a few vanishing acts to Utila but when he is around he is the best English teacher in El Naranjo. Darwin is teaching me the birds of the jungle….the kingfishers are my favorite –I love watching the swoop down to catch their dinner (and Darwin´s commentary while they do so never gets old). Maura is like the big sister I never had……absolutely concerned with my wellbeing. She takes good care of me and everyone else too. The pet macaws at the lodge are becoming my friends a little bit too. While they like getting right in my way and try and bite me, they also let me pet their pretty feathers and feed them watermelon rinds.

I loved my two weeks at home in the best states of them all, but I am super glad to be back to my jungle home. Soy feliz.

Rafting on el Rio Cangrejal

2008-08-23T13:17:00.000-07:00

I skyped with Pete the other day and after he told me about his rafting adventure on the Mackenzie River with Stef´s family, I realized that I have not posted any pictures of rafting adventures on el Rio Cangrejal. So....here you are!

Guide: Angel

Guide: Queso

Guide: Darwin

Guide:Darwin

Guide: Darwin

I also am taking this post to try out some new things I learned about blogspot today as I created a blog site for the NGO we are creating. If you want to check it out, feel free.....www.elnaranjoFUGENA.blogspot.com. There isn´t much there yet, but there will be more as more things start popping off.

On a more tranquil note.....Our driver Salerno passed away last weekend. He had a very sudden heartattack....he worked on Saturday morning and passed away about 4pm that afternoon. He was a really wonderful man who had a giant heart. I only knew him for a short time, but he creeped graciously into my heart with his charisma and infectious personality. Voy a faltar mucho Salerno. He certainly will be greatly missed by everyone at Jungle River Lodge.

Cuerro y Salado

2008-08-14T19:34:00.001-07:00

I finally got another day off the other day. Which was perfect timing to join mis compañeros on a camping trip to Cuerro y Salado Wildlife Refuge. Along for the outing was Angel and Darwin, Narelle, a woman traveling from Australia, and 5 of Darwin and Angel´s friends who are biology students from Tegucigalpa.

To get to Cuerro y Salado you must first take a bus for an hour or so through various communities on the outskirts of La Ceiba. After an hour on the bus your skin is covered with a film of dust. When we got off the bus Darwin instantly presented us with cold Salva Vida cervezas for our train ride out into the refuge. The train was no more than two open air cars on a rickety track through the middle of nowhere. We passed a couple of small villages that tapered off into stray houses here and there. I liked the idea that the only way to get to these households was to take this little train, ride your horse or bike, or walk a long, long way. When there are no roads it seems fairly rediculous to own a car.

The biology students that we were camping with were on the hunt for snakes, lizzards, frogs, and other things that go bump in the night. Once we arrived at the interperative center they arranged for us to take a boat out that night to hunt for these creatures.

Once we were all checked in, we hiked for about 5 minutes to the sea. The sea at Cuerro y Salado is the prettiest bit of beach and sea I have seen in Honduras. The 9 of us moved up and down the beach picking up pretty rocks and tossing them back into the sea. Rain clouds daunted us, so we quickly put up our tents and moved our gear inside.

As the sun went down we sat on a peice of driftwood and passed around a bottle of wine and a 2 litre of 7up and Vodka. I sat with Angel at one end of the driftwood and he told me that he has already worked fairly intensivley on the projects in El Naranjo. A year or so ago he collected data from all the residents of El Naranjo and helped compile the information into a document that I am currently using to better understand the community and to derive statistics. He says that he is still quite interested in helping out with these projects, which is great new for me!

Soon it was time for our creatures of the night tour. With our river guides, science nerds, and flashlights in tote, we were ready for anything and everything. The moon was bright in the partly cloudy sky which illuminated the moutains as we paddled into the mangroves.

I would like to take this moment to express my appreciation for mangroves (be forewarned....this is a little of the ODS nerd in me....). Mangroves have one of the most amazing root systems, dropping roots from their branches to the water from as much as 20 ft. It never ceases to amaze me how plants just know what to do to make themselves grow and be successful in a forest. Like the Western Red Cedar who sends it´s tiny, bendy branches into any patch of sunlight it can find in order to grow to their massive size, the mangroves send their roots to the water for the same reason. Needless to say I was quite satisfied to spend my evening passing through clumps of these said roots keeping my eyes alert for crocs.

And a crocodile we did see! I could only make out the red of his eyes in my flashlight and the bulby eyesockets on the surface of the water, but it was unmistakenly a crocodile. We also saw a plethora of pointy nosed frogs (all of which were plucked from the water and carfully inspected and photographed by our science friends). The coolest thing we came across was a fat iguana draped lazily on a tree branch. Darwin pried it loose from the branch and we all were able to inspect it up close. It had such smooth skin that reminded me of some awful florecent green print from the 80´s and a squishy belly. You could see the iguana´s strength when Darwin passed it along to another and the iguana´s tail flipped about and it tightened its grip. When putting it back on its branch, it slipped flawlessly into the water and swam to the bank.

Back at the camp we started a fire and roasted marshmellows. After the marshmellows were gone we figured it was wise to eat something a little more substantial. Our science friends pulled out their camping stoves and cooked us up some tasty pasta.

Before we knew it, it was well past 2 in the morning. I crawled into a bed of sand and slept soundly.

In the morning the sand flies were out in abundance. From the walk from my tent to the sea I was bitten about 11,000 times. Angel and I walked down the beach a half mile or so collecting rocks and other strange things. By the time we returned back to camp we were eaten alive by the sandflies.

We searched for breakfast but found only strawberry cookies. Eventually we found some café con leche and drank it sitting by the riverside. We agreed it was a good idea to take the 11:00 train back. Thus began the dusty journey home to La Ceiba, where upon arrival we made haste with hungry bellies to Chef Guity for some sopa de caracol.

I asked the boys where we would go next week for our day off. Maybe to Cayos Cochinos? Maybe to Rio Mariá? Who knows where the waters will take us, but I bet it will be another beautiful place!

2008-08-10T18:26:00.000-07:00

Everything is going rather well. I am finding that the management part of my job is a lot more demanding and takes up a lot more of my time that the development aspect of my job. I work non stop most days and have only had one day off since I arrived on the 4th of July. I like what I am doing, but there are certainly moments when I just can´t answer another question. Sometimes I don´t feel like being helpful....like this morning when someone tried to pay for their room while I was obviously brushing my teeth. I mean really, give me a break!

I had a really wonderful day last Thursday. I spent the morning working up at the Lodge. Darwin has come back from Costa Rica along with another JRL guide, Angel and Maya, Angel´s girlfriend. Maya is from Denmark and has been in Honduras for 4 years. She is quite nice and has been very helpful in aquainting me with the ins and outs of working up at the Lodge. Of course it is wonderful to see Darwin again and Angel is full of energy and is a constant entertainer. So my morning and into the afternoon was spent with the three of them, making sure everything at the Lodge was running smoothly. Darwin and I sat for a long time at the bar making jokes and running our mouths which is really good spanish practice. I sort of think that I like Darwin best because I understand his Spanish better than anyone else. I actually know what he is saying 99% of the time!

Soon it was three o´clock and time for me to move up to El Naranjo for my first English class at the escuela in the village. I got a ride up there with my new friend, whose name escapes me now, in his fancy new car. When we pulled up to the school and I got out, the classroom erupted in cheers. I felt like I was a movie star walking down the red carpet. I was a little embarassed by the whole thing, but once the cheers died down, la maestra Ms. Rita introduced me and handed me a piece of chalk, I felt a strange sence of familiarity and calm washed over me. It felt so natural to be in front of a group of kids again. Uhoh.

At the school in El Naranjo there are three teachers, one classroom and 130 students. There are two shifts in the day so in theory there are only 65 kids at school at a time. However children often don´t come to school or come and go at their leisure. I had in front of me last Thursday about 35 kids. They ranged from 7 years old to 14 years old. And Ms. Rita of course, who is eager to learn a little English herself. I am looking forward to these classes because it feels nice to be incorperating myself into the community, it does feel good to be working with kids again, and the walk back to the lodge in the late afternoon after the class is over is so, so beautiful.

Once back at the Lodge I regretfully got into the convoy with Salerno and made my way back to La Ceiba. While I am glad that I don´t live at the Lodge, it sure would be nice to be able to stay up there when the mood strikes. I think I have another day off here soon and I am sure I´ll stay up there then.

Now I am going to take advantage of the fact we are fully booked and all the reservations are here already to go to bed early tonight. Any questions or phone calls will have to wait for the morning. And hopefully tomorrow I can brush my teeth in peace.

xoxoxox

my new home

2008-07-19T17:34:00.000-07:00

Is a home of palm trees, severe humidity at times, one dirty beach, giant mountains in the background, black people, white people, latino people, english, spanish, creole, baleadas, coconut chicken, seafood seafood seafood, a decent party scene.

Today I went to the mountain in the morning to talk to Oscar, my boss. He is an x honduran military man who happens to be from Siguatepeque. He is cunny and sharp and extremely socially awkward. He can bearly handle being in the city - he lives at the Lodge despite his wife and 3 young children living in Ceiba - and comes here only upon necessity. People seem to really respect him a lot, which is reassuring to me. All business people in and around town are quick to talk to him at the hardware store or wherever and the guys working at the supermarket gladly accept his big tips and make jokes with him. He is not arrogant, he is successful and well known, he is unsettling at times. I am very interested in knowing him better.

Let me back up. Yesterday I went up to the Lodge in the afternoon so I could talk to Oscar....just to talk to him about what I have been up to. As we were driving up to the Lodge we passed Oscar coming down to Ceiba. When I got to the Lodge I was talked into going on a canopy tour. Not like I needed convincing. So I spent the warm afternoon traipsing through the jungle and zipping on a wire through the trees. I love the forest so much. Every time I am in the forest I feel so comfortable at the same time totally aware of everything and even a little scared I will encounter something! After the canopy tour I went cliff juming into the late day. Being in the river is a profound experience. I think that has to do with the love I´ve felt everytime I am in that river. I just let the current take me and I trust it. I don´t push it, but I am able to embrace these rapids adn let them move me away. It is freeing in a way. So yesterday while I did not do a thing that I was supposed to do, I did everything that makes me happy.

Then I got home from the Lodge......let me describe this - our transportation for the guests to get to and from the lodge is a giant old WWII army truck. It is obviously for passengers and not for war, but you sure look badass on your way into the jungle. I will have to take a picture of this. The driver is a man called Salerno. He is tall and thin with a beer belly and wears nice trousures, has a moustash, wears flip flops and collard shirts which are always mostly unbuttoned......So i got home from the Lodge and my new friend Silvia came by. She is German she is working at the public hospitals in Ceiba in the delivery rooms. Last night she came over to look on the internet for information regarding a birthing class she is giving. She is great and knows all about my job because she used to work here at the Banana Republic. She only worked here for a month before she realized she really wanted to be in the hospitals. But she is very interested in helping me do a social diagnostic for El Naranjo. She knows a lot of people up and down the river and is taking me tomorrow to meet lots of people. I have so much to learn about this place and what is going on! But I am totally into it....not like before.

My reflections on La Orquidea. I did not feel like we were incorperated into any sort of community there. It was a family that was all tired and pissed off at the end of the day. Our life in SIguatepeque was not set up for mental health. I felt like a mule who was pushed to work too hard and offered no support whatsoever. I tried to put everything in the best light, but in the end I was miserable until I found a place for me in the jungle.

That said. People here are happy enough and make jokes and include me into everything. They call me jéfa. The teach me Ceiba slang and incoperate me into everything. My work crew are the following people- Maura the cleaning woman who has a contagious laugh and a smile that reminds me of my old friend Q. Nando is the nightwatchman who is about 65 years old. The other night he helped me with my spanish by letting me read aloud to him El Principito. Oscar el feo is my right hand man. He is from Roatan so he talks patios. And he is always asking for money (but only for work related things.....he used to be the man who held all the money before I came) and really had a heart of gold. He makes me laugh a lot because he is always making good jokes. Spicer is the daytime receptionist. He has been with Jungle River for something like 10 years. He has some crazy stories from the past. He is now married and is a seventh day adventist, so he doesn´t party like he used to but sure doesn´t mind retelling the past. He has given me the most pointers about my job because he understands my job better than anyone.

I like it here and I finally feel like I am part of a good community of people. It feels good to be happy.

cosas nuevas

2008-07-13T17:50:00.000-07:00

It is raining so hard outside with thunder and lightning (should I be using electronics?) which is kind of nice because today has been a lazy day and the rain makes it seem even more okay. I met some cool people last night....people that love the earth like I love the earth and people who love doing outside things just as passionately as I love them. They go to school at the same teeny tiny school that Julie went to and I felt like I had known them for years. Not to mention we have a handful of mutual friends. It was nice to have some good solid company even though I know it wasn´t for long. Today I talked politics and history with a man from Israel and a man from Norway. It was a really neat conversation because of our geographical and cultural differences. We are all about the same age and all speak English but other than that we were raised in totally different worlds. The regular guest came back from Roatan, Lucas from Tegicigalpa. He hovers a bit too much and sort of creeps me out. Good thing Nando, the night watchman, is here to protect me! I am waiting for Oscarito to come back from Sambo Creek with some sopa caracol for me.....It will warm me up perfectly after all this rain (like it is cold....HA!).

As far as work is concerned....I see myself getting sucked into the Banana Republic and unable to make it up the river. I need to set a schedule where I spend at least three days a week in the mornings along the river. I am anxious to go into the community and start talking to people. I am scared and nervous as I often am when I dive into new ventures, but I know it needs to be done and if I don´t make the time my life will be Banana filled all the time.

I have learned so much about myself in this transition. My personality becomes more and more apparent to me as I move through life. I am a perfectionist in such a bizarre sense. I don´t like doing things I don´t do well from the very beginning. Things I do have to be perfect all the time or I feel frustrated with myself. Learning the systems- or lack of systems - here at the Banana Republic have been tricky. I am trying to slide new ideas in and not torment my co workers (who call me jéfa, jejeje) in doing so. I got into one little tiff with Oscarito the other day because he waited days and days to make 200 copies for Oscar. When he finally got around to getting them done he wanted to go to some copy place that charges twice as much as normal because it was the only place open in the night. I could not rationalize to him that he could make 10 copies of the document at the expensive place and we would get the other 190 done at the cheap place later.... He felt that it was so urgent to make all 200 copies right then. Maybe it is needless to say that he never even had 10 copies of the document made.....it could be days before he gets around to it again. Do I intervene, or do I let him reap the repercussions of his laziness with Oscar? These are the idiosyncrasies of my days.

The top 12 things I will remeber fondly about SIGUATEPEQUE!

2008-07-01T10:33:00.000-07:00

12. Those delicious flour tortillas - that would mysteriously disapear and reapear.

11. BBQ´s at the house - BEST EVER: night of the first democratic primary; cigars and too much red wine.

10. Speaking Spanglish with my amigo at the pulperia while waiting for the Colonia Mata bus.

9. Luigi and his molestation of the world.

8. Olivia´s kitchen nightmares (and VICTORIOUS successes!).

7. Thoughtful conversations with Charles on the roof of Bohemios.

6. TV on DVD marathons snuggled up in Quinton´s bed.

5. The women in my adult English class - Gaby, Saraí, Carol, Marisa, Nusly, Dania, Bessy, Irma, Doris and Loida.

4. Dance parties at the house - Charles and his 80´s style jive, Morgan and Quinton´s drumline, and of course Quinton´s love of Fergie.

3. Sundays with Morgan.

2. The monsters of second grade, especially Erick and Dafne.

1. José Saul Estrada Lopéz

Gracias para todo....Adios Siguatepeque

jungle boogie

2008-06-29T13:17:00.000-07:00

I haven’t updated my blog in so long I sort of forgot I had one in the first place. Since I last wrote, school has finished and I have secured a new line of work. As perhaps you remember I talked with Oscar and Darwin all about development project ideas and life in the jungle when I first visited the Jungle River Lodge. Since that initial conversation I have decided to work with Oscar to implement his ideas. I have no idea what will become of this but it seems so full of potential I have to offer my assistance. I will also be managing the Banana Republic Hostel, which is connected to the Jungle River Lodge. I am excited about my new endeavors, while quite nervous as well. This is the type of work I can see myself doing for a long time and while it is scary to make a commitment to something that doesn’t really exist yet, life is all about taking risks. No one ever got too far doing nothing but dreaming. Risk is always a factor when turning those dreams into reality.

I have been back again and again to La Ceiba and to the Jungle River Lodge. The most exciting weekend was Carnaval, which was the third weekend in May. Saturday night of Carnaval – the grand night of festivities – was so vibrant and alive. For about 12 blocks the street was a dancehall. Every three blocks or so there was a stage with some type of music and women with sparkles and feathers shaking their booties. Rankin, one of the guide from the Jungle, acted as our tour guide and took us (Morgan, Charles and I) all around. We found a man on the street selling guiffiti – jungle roots and herbs saturated in rum – We walked up and down the street, through masses of people, and finally settled at a sound system with a great DJ playing all types of music. Mel and Tobi (my Australian friends) were also there and we danced the night away. Around 4:00am I went to bed. Around 6:30 in the morning Morgan woke me up and we decided to spend the day at the Jungle River Lodge. After a leisurely breakfast we jumped into the river where we were joined by Rankin and Darwin. The four of us swam for what seemed like hours making jokes and loving our lives. It was amazing to have the whole place to ourselves on a bright sunny day with the river perfectly swimmable. Those two men, Rankin and Darwin, have effervescence about them. They are so content with themselves, confident but without ego. Watching them feel so free and comfortable with everything they do is so inspiring and I hope this free spirit lifestyle is contagious.

I was in the jungle the other night. I went to see Oscar to make sure everything was set for my move next weekend. It was just my luck that he was in Tegucigalpa for a relative’s wedding. Darwin was there, back from a trek into La Mosquitia with some UNC students. I hung out with two girls from UNC, which was fun female companionship (a rare treat). Of course we had a little dance party and drank too much wine and guiffiti. After we were plenty saucy we went up the road to a birthday party of another rafting guide from a different outfitter. Everyone I met and talked to that lives along el Rio Cangrejal is really friendly and welcoming. Next week I plan to go back up the river and talk to all of these people I met in a hazy stupor and hear their stories about life on the river and their take on community tourism in El Naranjo.

Darwin is going to Costa Rica for a couple of months to guide along a river down there. He was supposed to leave the first of July, but is postponing his departure for a week so he can make sure I settle into my jungle life.

I have a feeling that Darwin’s little sister, Tania, is going to be a great link into the community of El Naranjo. I am giving her English lessons twice a week and we have already become fast friends.

Osacr, Oscarito, Ana, Dennis, Dennis, Queso, Spicer, and all the rest of the Jungle Crew I haven’t met yet, I am ready for the jungle boogie!! Who knows what will happen out there but there will be more stories to come, this much I know.

a taste of the good stuff

2008-05-15T16:56:00.001-07:00

Today was one of those days that make me feel like I could live In Siguatepeque for at least another year. These days are few and far between, so when they happen I feel like it is a good idea to harness this bliss and write it down.

Perla, in second grade, brought a kitten to school today for one of the teachers who seems to collect small animals from children. Apparently she has received too many small pets and declined this one. The kitten was only 3 weeks old, give or take a day or two, and was white with black and orange spots. Of course I fell in love with this little kitten and was thrilled to be its caretaker while in the second grade classroom. I was fairly certain that Dafne or Andrea would tromple over and smash the cat at some point, but surprisingly enough the cat’s life was spared. In the end Mr. Byron took Mimi, the white, orange and black kitten home with him.

After I was done teaching for the day (two periods early on Thursday and Fridays) I was called to Karla’s classroom (the pre school teacher) to practice for the staff only talent show, which will be presented during Anniversary Week, two weeks from now. I have sort of been dreading this show as I have lost the summer camp show off in me. But practice today was really fun. I need to practice not taking myself so seriously all the time. I taught all the other teachers the electric slide, which we did to some fast paced reggaeton, and then afterwards we fooled around doing other dances. Saul was in his element and maybe had the most fun making up new dance moves. After dance practice we had band practice...(i wish you all could see the smile on my face right now.....i feel happy). Now if my memory is correct, I was kicked out of the band in the sixth grade. Which should bring shame to my family name as my father (Papa Drummond) is a drummer after all! Well boy would he have been proud today! I took that drum and I played it. My part is kind of boring so I made up some new beats that I thought sounded great! Finally, once everyone had learned their part we rocked out. I played my assigned part and realized with all the other instruments it wasn’t so boring at all. Saul and Charles were the other drummers, and we found a nice rhythm. Now I am excited for the show and excited for the practices which are bound to happen at the end of each day.

The sunset on my way into town was also astonishing. All the dust that blows around all day (making me sneeze like a banshee) is reflected off the sun and makes beautiful colors. Now I will go to Morgan’s house (she finally moved to Siguatepeque....for her last month here) and cook some dinner and download an entire CD of my new favorite, Mana. I am not going to hold my breath that tomorrow I feel so happy and content here....but today I sure did get a taste of the good stuff!

a little bit of stimulant makes Jessa a happier soul

2008-05-07T16:18:00.000-07:00

Since I last wrote things have taken a turn for the worst. Don’t fret, however, I am a firm believer that it takes shit to make bliss.

I got very, very sick at the beginning of April with an intestinal infection. After a solid seven days of bed rest I thought I was better. Then I had a bout of empacho, which still don’t totally know what is. The month of April was pretty much spent in bed. For 18 days I stared out of my bedroom door and watched the birds play in the tree and wonder if anything exciting was happening outside the compound walls. I became a miserable person totally sick of life in my body. I think a little depression kicked in, which didn’t make my health any better.

The last weekend of April I thought I was well enough to go with Quinton to a little village in the southern part of Honduras called Nacaome. The purpose for the trip was to buy some cheap Lencan pottery. The first 30 minutes of the bus ride south were horrible I began to second guess my health. But I took a nice long nap all the way in to Tegucigalpa and felt much better by the time we made our way on the ghetto little chicken bus to Nacaome. We arrived to find the nicest hotel I have been to in a long time. The room was air conditioned, there was a terrific pool, cable tv, a big squishy bed, even a bathtub!

The next day we went by bus another 30 minutes towards El Salvador. It was another chicken bus and the man sitting next to me actually had a market bag full of live chickens. We got off the bus in the middle of nowhere and found the pottery shop. Of course our Spanish is rudimentary so I couldn’t totally understand the details of this place but I gathered that it is a cooperative where women from the community can use the facilities to make pottery and sell it collectively. I guess they are selling it to travelers coming and going from Nicaragua and El Salvador because it is in such a desolate part of Honduras and the road connects these countries. We got some amazing pieces of pottery for such a good deal. I bought 5 pieces for $10. Quinton bought about $30 worth and that turned out to be about 15 pieces.

After our pottery excursion we went back to the hotel where we lounged around the pool for a few hours and ate a lunch of ceviche (fresh fish from the Pacific that is actually cooked in lime juice….the greatest thing I have ever eaten). We watched about 10 movies on cable….they make sure to put a lot of movies and shows in English on the TV with Spanish subtitles. We made a brief stroll into the outer parts of Nacaome, but it was unbearably hot so we went back to the hotel.

Being away from Siguatepeque made me feel better. My mind was a one again stimulated and I saw something different. Even though the trip was quite relaxing and we didn’t do a whole lot, it was just what the doctor ordered.

We got back from Nacaome on Sunday and just had a three day week of school. It went pretty quickly and on Wednesday we did an egg drop competition with the whole school. The groups were comprised of one or two students from each grade. The only egg that survived was from a group that cheated (they used paper that was not one of the given materials) but everyone still had a great time. It was fun to see the older kids acting as leaders for the younger kids.

Thursday we packed our bags again this time heading north to the coast. Our destination was the Jungle River Lodge just 10 minutes outside of La Ceiba on el Rio Cangrejal. We planned to stay just for a night and go on a white water rafting excursion. As soon as I saw the place I knew that one night would not be enough. Finally I had arrived in a place that was beautiful. I have been living in Honduras for 10 months now and it took until this past weekend to find a truly beautiful place. There were rocks leading up from the river to the lodge that were good for jumping. The water was so clear and the temperature was just perfect for swimming. We spent a good portion of our first day swimming and drying out on the rocks. Sitting on the rocks you look onto the Pico Bonito National Park, which is a well managed and protected area.

That night for dinner we sat around a table with the staff (we were the only guests the first night) and dined on wild boar, beans, rice, ensalada, and tortillas. The restaurant/bar area has no lighting so our dinner was served by candlelight. As if the beautiful scenery and delicious dinner wasn’t enough, ever staff person there was strikingly attractive. Exactly my type of earth biscuit meets DCMW.

The next morning we prepared ourselves for our rafting adventure. Quinton, Olivia and I were joined by Scott, a fellow north-westerner, who teaches at a bilingual school n Tegucigalpa. The four of us and our guides Jonny and Juan Carlos drove up river to begin our trip. The first half of the trip was jumping of a variety of rocks into turbulent water. We jumped from sitting positions, we had to scale rocks with the assistance of Juan Carlos’ rope, and finally we had to jump from about 20 feet into a waterfall. Now some of you know that I do not like jumping off rocks. I am scared of jumping off rocks. Needless to say I was the last person to jump into the waterfall after some serious coaching from Jonny. But I did it and even thought I might do it again one day (maybe….). We then floated down the river in our lifejackets to our boats were we began the rafting part of our trip.

Quinton and Olivia were paired together and Scott and I shared a boat. Scott is very athletic and adventuresome and I was glad to have him as my partner. We practiced rescuing each other after falling out of the boat which was good because Juan Carlos purposely flipped our boat on our first rapid (a class IV). The whole trip was great. We braved many rapids, mostly class III, and even got out of our boats on occasion to go down the rapids without our boats. Spicy Chili was a rapid we went down sans boat and it was just like a really fun water slide. We all went down Spicy Chili a handful of times. By the time we made it back to the lodge we were exhausted and pumped up on adrenaline.

I had to go into La Ceiba to send an important email so Quinton and I went into town. Olivia decided to go back to Siguatepeque after rafting so we said goodbye to her. In La Ceiba we met up with Dan and Charles who had just arrived. We headed back to the lodge and spent the afternoon swimming and drinking rum. That night I ended up talking to Oscar, the proprietor of Jungle River Tours and Lodge, and it turns out he is from Siguatepeque. Oscar told me of his interest in developing the community of El Naranjo which is just up the river from the lodge. His plans are all environmentally based (green) and have tourism as the economic developer. He needs some help getting things started and I am thinking about helping him. It sounds like the work I was doing in Jamaica. It is an option. I also talked with one of the guides, Darwin, for a long time as we took shots of Jungle Juice (rum saturated with roots and herbs from the jungle….it tasted like vegetables). Talking with him (in spanglish) reminded me that even though I have been totally removed from beautiful places this year, they still exist. And there are still people in this world who care about our planet just as passionately as I do, for the same reasons I do…..because we have experienced the beauty of our planet first hand over and over and over again.

By the time Sunday rolled around I was in no mood to head back to Siguatepeque. We said our goodbyes to Oscar and Darwin and the rest of the staff and headed back into La Ceiba where our bus bound for Sigua was waiting for us.

Semana Santa

2008-03-23T15:19:00.000-07:00

This is when I wish I was really eloquent. I just witnessed the crucifixion of Jesus. Sounds intense, I know. It was intense.
Comayagua is known for its Good Friday processions. Knowing this I figured it to be the best place to really experience Semana Santa (Holy Week). Here in Honduras Semana Santa is not Spring Break for any reason other than Jesus. With its intensity, I understand why one needs the whole week off of work or school.
Thursday Dan and I left Siguatepeque for Comayagua. First we went to the Rapidito stand to look for the mini buses headed to Comayagua only to find that there was no Rapidito service. So we taxied ourselves to the highway were we waited for almost an hour for a bus. When we got on the bus we had to squish in like I had yet to do in Honduras. There were little Mayan sized women feeling up my pockets in search of my money, and my head conveniently blocked the movie showing of Casper (in Spanish, of course) so everyone on the bus was staring at me the whole ride.
We made it safe and sound to Comayagua where we checked into our hotel and then found ourselves a bar for an afternoon cocktail. We got talking to the woman behind the bar and it turns out that her husband is from Beaverton, Oregon. It is still such a small world. She was excited to hear that I will be working in Comayagua next year and said anyone from Beaverton, Oregon that happens to be in Comayagua is family of hers.
Dan and I met up with Mel, Tobi and Oscar in one fell swoop. We sat at the bar for a bit and Oscar impressed Mel and Tobi with his knowledge of Australian bands. Charming, as always. Roger, Oscar’s friend that looks like PeeWee Herman met up with us and we went to the vendors in the parquet for some delicious Honduran cuisine. It was great catching up with Mel and Tobi, who I hadn’t seen since Thanksgiving.
After our super, we watched a drama of the Last Super (for Jesus that is) in front of the Cathedral. Oscar whispered bible stories to me as we watched in awe the betrayal of Judas. After the super we waited on the road behind the cathedral to watch the first procession: Peter and John tell Mary Magdalene of the betrayal and Mary Magdalene says goodbye to Jesus. It was quite the procession. After something that resembled a dance (Mary Magdalene passes Peter and John, sees Jesus, kneels to kiss him, marches back and the whole thing repeats again and again) the procession left the street and took off for a night long procession through the town. Following them were men with chains hitting them to the ground. These people began the procession around 10pm and would proceed through the town until 4am.
I should explain how these processions work. There are statues on chariot type things that men and women carry through the town and over the crowds. There is also a slew of alter boys waving incense, a handful of nuns, women in black shrouds singing and praying, a few priests and the bishop. Following behind is a small marching band that plays unnaturally cheery music when hymns aren’t being sung.
After the Mary Magdalene procession we went to Sangrias for another couple of drinks and then met up with Chino Jesus Pong who was making a sawdust carpet for the main procession the following morning. By this time it was just past midnight and they had just poured the first layer of sawdust onto the road. Mel, Tobi, Dan and I helped by sweeping the sawdust so it was evenly spread across the road. We helped for about 40 minutes and then called it a night.
The next morning Dan and I walked all through town as people put the finishing touches on the carpets. They worked all through the night to perfect them, and they were all gorgeous. At 9am we went to one of the churches in town and saw the start of the Good Friday procession. The procession followed the road and would eventually tred over all of the carpets that had been made the night before. Jesus led the procession carrying his cross to the place where he was to be crucified. Along the way he made 12 stops. The procession was moving Good Friday mass. I followed the procession to the first 2 stops on the cross and then met up with Oscar and we went looking at all the carpets that had yet to be trampled.
At 4pm the procession finally made its way over top of all the carpets and into the cathedral where Jesus was finally crucified. They nailed a statue to an enormous cross and raised the cross. Of course they forgot to put on the crown of thorns, so one of the firemen that had helped to raise the cross, climbed up a ladder and laid the thorny crown upon Jesus’ head. It was all quite moving. Jesus had just walked for 7 hours carrying a heavy cross, looking beaten and worn, and finally was put to rest. While Jesus in the procession was a real person and the Jesus on the cross was a statue, he looked so peaceful and at rest.
After Jesus’ crucifixion there was yet another procession. The same people who had been making carpets all night, who had marched through the town all day, now had the task of carrying Jesus’ embalmment display through the town along with little girls dressed as angles, the Virgin Mary, Joseph, Mary Magdalene and Veronika. The young men and women that were carrying these displays and statues looked absolutely exhausted and I am sure where even more so at 5:30 the next morning when they passed our hotel.
What amazed me the most about this whole event was the dedication and diligence that went into everything. People stayed up all night making these beautiful carpets that would be trampled in a matter of minutes. As Oscar said: ‘they aren’t built to last’. These men and women that took part in the processions went on and on with infinite strength. And they did this all in the name of Jesus. I was not raised with much religion, so it always catches me off guard to see the amount of faith people have in Jesus and Christianity. Jesus worked so hard to spread his faith and within a matter of hours he was betrayed and killed. Just like the carpets. Gone within a matter of hours.
My Semana Santa was extremely educational as well as profound. I was moved by these people’s dedication to something. Not only that, but my sense were put on high alert. The smell of the alter boy’s incense, the color of the carpets, the lights of the cathedral, the sounds of chanting, moaning, singing, praying. I must say this was the coolest thing I have witnessed in Honduras and defiantly the most profound Easter celebration I have been to.
My time in Comayagua was ended on a sad chord. Oscar broke the news that he was moving to Canada. He left this early this morning for Vancouver B.C. by way of Seattle. I will miss him more than he’ll ever know and I can only thank him for the kindness he expelled upon me every single moment we spent together. I hope I’ll see him again one day, maybe even in Portland. I wish him love, I wish him all the best.

The Caves of Taulabe

2008-03-19T13:21:00.000-07:00

For my second grade class I had them earn stars. Each day the row with the most stars earned themselves a pack of galletas or churoz. I figured there were the “bad kids” whose row would never be the one to earn the most stars and these specific kids would give up and not be tricked by the positive reinforcement. So I decided that the class as a whole would work together to earn 200 stars. Should the class reach 200 stars we would go on field trip to the Caves of Taulabe. Our school sits pretty much on top of these caves and so it seemed to be the most logical place to take them out on good behavior.

The day finally came that they earned their 200^th star. It was a pretty proud moment for me, for as I drew the last star on the board every single kid in the class jumped out of the chair cheering and running to give me a hug. They were so proud of themselves for earning all these stars, and they really did work together to earn them.

So now it was time to throw a trip together. I wrote a note to the parents telling them all about the trip and why the kids were going on this trip at all. I asked Saul to be our driver and chaperone and I taught all the kids the word for flashlight.

Tuesday, March 11^th,2008 just after 9:00am, we left school aboard the Blue Bus with Saul and 17 children who have never been on a class field trip before. I am pretty sure they have never been so excited for any school function.

They sang “Mister Golden Sun” and “We are the Champions” all the way to the caves and when we got there the turned into perfect little angels. We hired a guide who had good child management skills and was able to draw in their attention. He told them all about the formations in the caves, stalactites and stalagmites, bats and bat guano, and about a man from the US who came to Honduras to bury 200 million dollars in the caves. The kids of course went on a search for buried treasure and by the end of the tour it was rumored that the new kid, Jose, had found the money.

Saul was also a huge help. Not only did he serve as my translator, he held the hands of the kids who were scared and totally played up the hidden money. He asked the kids questions to reinforce the information the guide told them. I couldn’t have asked for more!

After the Caves we went (empty handed…..Jose didn’t actually find the money) into Taulabe for ice cream and to let the kids play in the park. After 40 minutes or so of ice cream feasts and monkey bar flips it was time to go back to school. When we arrived back at the school the rest of the kids were just starting lunch so they were all outside to see our arrival. You think we had just returned from war. Every second grader was screaming and cheering as were the kids back at the school.

Now the kids of second grade are earning stars for a pizza party. I think they want it to be at my house so they can play with my cat, Memo. I don’t know if I really want all the kids of second grade playing in my yard and chasing my poor cat into hiding, so we might take the pizza back to the park in Taulabe or something. Whatever we do, I know that it will only mildly compare. The first field trip of these kids’ life has gone down in history.

a dose of jibber jabber

2008-03-17T09:21:00.000-07:00

I thought it might be time to talk about the level of development in Siguatepeque. I certainly do not live in the United States of America, but it is still 2008 everywhere and global development is occurring. I am no development professional and I also have not lived here all that long nor have I had the proper time or language abilities to delve into the issues involved with development here in Siguatepeque. But my eyes are open and I have extended knowledge of one other developing country and one very developed country to compare with.
Let me set my scene. I am sitting on my twin sized bed typing on a Toshiba Satellite laptop provided to the teachers by the school I am working for. Overhead is the roof, of course, which is tin on top and a layer of particle board or something inside. There is a gecko that lives in the layers of the roof and I can hear his chirp from time to time. The walls of my 5 month old room are smeared with a thin layer of crappy orange paint and there are already cracks in the plaster/cement of the walls. I am snacking on Snyder pretzels I bought at the store for $2.50 and some fancy mustard sent in a package from my dear friend Deirdre. A huge bag of freshly laundered clothes (washed and dried) sits at my side waiting for my attention.
Should I walk outside of my housing compound I would be greeted by the guards of the enormous mansion across the street (perhaps the might be power washing the cobblestones in front of their home) Or maybe by Georgette, the chicken that escapes from the coop next door all too frequently. Or maybe I would see a man heading a cart of oxen carrying dirt for sale. If I walk down the dirt road in less than a block I will be at the farm. The farm is the size of a normal backyard in the states but with just as many head of cattle, chickens and pigs as a large farm in Iowa. There I would see those hideous ducks, 1,000 little baby chicks, a handful of pigs and I might have to wait for a minute as the cattle leave or arrive from the pasture.
Let me describe this. The streets of Barrio Suyapita are often full of cows at dawn and dusk. At dawn we are leaving Siguatepeque for school and frequently we are stopped momentarily by a fleet of cows just walking down the road as if the road was made for them (which maybe it was…..). At dusk, I am not in the safety (ha) of the Yellow School Bus and there have been a handful of times that I have almost been trampled by these fleets. You might be asking yourself….if there are so many cows wandering around….there must be cowboys! And there are! They are skilled horsemen or little boys slapping the cows in the ass as they escort them to their final destination.
Modes of transportation are varied in Siguatepeque. It is just fine if you walk places (though the dust from the road might cause severe asthma later in life), or you can ride your bike, or your horse, or your friend’s bike while you carry your baby and the baby steers and your friend pedals. If you are a combination of patient, lazy and/or poor you can take the Colonial Mata bus which passes at its leisure for 25 cents. Or if you are a combination of semi rich, lazy and in a hurry you can take a taxi for $1. If you are really rich then you have your own car, which is probably a truck or SUV. On the road you also must beware of large trucks, small trucks, trucks filled to the brim with eggs, chicken trucks, ice cream trucks, milk trucks, trash trucks, trucks full of military men…..
It may seem like Siguatepeque is a rural place, but it’s not. There are lots of restaurants, movie theatres, schools, grocery stores, swimming pools. To walk from one end of the city to the other would take an hour. I guess it is a big little town. I can march into Supermercado Del Corral and walk out with all my favorites from the states. Like pesto ($3.50), red wine ($6.00), Pantene Shampoo ($3.00), 1 lb whole bean coffee ($2.00), and 1lb of steaks for the BBQ ($1.50). I can call my Mama in the states and talk for 30 minutes for just around a dollar. I can send flirty text messages to the cute guy at work via my fancy cellular telephone. I can even go to Wendy’s at the mall if I am in the mood for some fast food! I can send faxes, make photo copies, and buy brand new Adidas tennis shoes. I can watch the newest Grey’s Anatomy on TV or movies on HBO.
If I were to describe it all you could decide for yourself what the level of development is. Most everyone has water most of the time, if you pay your light bill you have electricity most of the time, people have educational opportunities for the most part. Now remember that I am tainted by the fact that my counterparts are educated Hondurans who went to, are sending their children to and/or are working at Bilingual schools. These people live in the Middle-Upper Middle Class as per Honduran standards.
This doesn’t mean that I have closed my eyes and can’t see poverty anymore; it just means I don’t have a lot of people in my life who have experience Honduran poverty first hand. I know it exists. I drive through the little town of La Mision everyday and see people waking up in their houses made of sticks, bricks, mud and cement. I know that a lot of the older generation of this country has no more than a 4th grade education. I know that the average age to have a baby is around 17. I know that the public education system is decently funded but is nothing compared to schools in the states (even after all the budget cuts). I know that if you send your cutest little kids to the highway to sell cokes and peanuts to travelers on the buses you make some money, but if you send them to school you loose some.
Life in rural Honduras makes my personal poverty seem like some sick joke. I don’t have any substantial amount of money in the bank. I make $300.00 each month. Should I try to take that back to the states with me I would need the building plan for these houses in La Mision just so I could have a roof over my head. I may not have money by the USA standard, but I am weathly beyond measure. I have a US passport, a US education, the ability to go back to the states and make as much money as I want. I can always decide to live forever in Honduras and live large off of my monthly income. We from the United States in general are not poor. On a global scale we are loaded and because of the strength of our dollar and the education in our brains. Poverty is real in the states too, but it exists like you might not ever thought possible in the developing world.
So Honduras is a developing country; one of the poorest countries in the western hemisphere. But because of the exporting of goods around the globe I can get the fancy things to remind me of home and I can still live the life of a frivolous American. I can live large in the poor house. And I can constantly use what is in my line of vision to remind me to always be thankful for what I have. I also can see that dinero does not make my world spin around and happiness for me comes from something much greater.
And so thank your lucky stars and stripes tonight my fellow statesmen, even if you feel financially fretful!
Peace and good will to all.

late january, early february

2008-02-17T15:44:00.000-08:00

It has been a long time since I wrote anything, and I think that is mostly because things don’t seem so exciting anymore. Things are starting to repeat themselves more and more which means life is more predictable and less outrageous.

School is going along as well as can be expected. There are daily hurdles to overcome; simple things that shouldn’t be problems at all. I am learning to curb my particularity and accept that the order I need in my life will not be realized at La Orquidea. I still love the little beasts of the second grade quite a lot. They make everything worthwhile….most of the time anyway. A couple weeks ago it was report card day and I needed to record a couple grades still so I took the kids outside to play “science”. They were told to collect living things in a plastic bag, specifically animals. With the help of Mr. Saul (the fearless bus driver) they spent an hour in the grass catching grasshoppers and stick bugs. For me to have a chance to sit back and observe them actively learning was pretty cool. What I thought was just something to distract them turned into the most legit science we have done all year. Thank you Mr. Saul! Last week we made Valentine mailboxes so we can begin exchanging Valentine Cards this week. The kids spent the later half of the week writing little love letters to each other and delivering them to their mailboxes. Some of the things they wrote to each other were quite darling!

I started teaching adult English classes at a school in town. The class meets twice a week from 6-8pm. The curriculum is written along with all the lesson plans. The tests are done for me, the students have text books and work books and audio CDs. All I have to do is deliver the information to the class and with the extra time I have, come up with creative ways to reinforce the information. I really like teaching these classes and don’t really feel like it is too much extra work. And it doesn’t pay half bad either. And some of the students in the class seem like they are really great people.

We got a grill from Khalila a month or so ago. There is something festive about cooking on the grill. It turns making dinner into a little party. The night of the democratic debates we decided to grill. Quinton and I drank a couple bottles of wine, while Charles and Dan sipped their rum drinks. We watched the debates, debated a bit ourselves and hung out late into the night (except Quinton who passed out at 7:30pm). School wasn’t extremely pleasant the next day, but it was worth it to hang out over tasty BBQ and political conversation.

I took some pictures of my living quarters, as you can see. I figured it was about time to show it off to the world. It’s really not much to write home about, but it is home and is about a billion times better than it was when I arrived six months ago.

The biggest news I have is that Memo the cat has been neutered. Finding a Vet was a bit of a process, but it turned out there was a secret Vet who splits his time between Sigua and Comayagua. Memo wasn’t thrilled about leaving the compound, but he did alright. When I brought him home and the anesthetics began to wear off he was pretty entertaining. I had to give him a couple shots that the Vet sent home with me….and actually Dan’s girlfriend who is visiting and Quinton did all the shooting….I just held onto him. He is recovering beautifully. And now I don’t have to worry about his girlfriend jumping in through my bedroom window looking for a booty call.

Being away from home again makes me realize my home really is Portland, Oregon. I love that place a whole lot, and it makes me glad to know that it will still be good old Portland when I finally come back home. With that said, I will be home eventually. Don’t wait around and instead I will see y’all when I see y’all! love. love. love.

a night out...and other fun stuff!

2008-01-17T12:24:00.001-08:00

There is a new guy in town and his name is Dan. He took Julie’s place and so far, so good. He is super chill, has developed a nice rapport with the kids and is into doing fun things. We all went to Comayagua the other night for a night out. Oscar and his friend Sergio met up with us to take us to all the right places in town. We had some drinks, sang some Karaoke, and danced the night away. It was great fun! The pictures tell it best. The next morning, Sergio and Oscar took us up to the bell tower of the Cathedral. They know the gate keepers and borrowed the keys. We could see the entire Comayagua valley and all the rooftops. Every 15 minutes the bells rang and gave us a scare. We also got to see the insides of the oldest clock in Central America. I like seeing the way things work.

Yesterday when we came back from Comayagua I was laying in my bed resting a bit before we had to meet up with the teachers from Siguatepeque Bilingual. Quinton was sitting on my bed and my bedroom door was open. My door goes right outside to the yard. Earlier, Georgette, the chicken that lives next door, came over to our yard to peck away. Well while I was peacefully relaxing in my bed, Georgette thought it would be fun to come into my room. I tried to get her to go back outside for fear of chicken shit on my floor, but instead of leaving, she JUMPED ONTO MY BED WITH ME!!!!!!! There was a real life chicken on my bed! If that wasn’t awkward enough she nestled into the covers and made herself comfortable. Quinton was laughing to hard to help me out (I was under the covers hoping Georgette didn’t poop on my bed, or peck my eyeballs out) but Olivia heard my cries and came to the rescue. She picked up Georgette and put her back outside. It was a fairly unforgettable moment.

I played hookey from school the other day and went with Quinton and Luigi to Tegucigalpa. Quinton’s luggage was lost so he had to pick it up and I wanted to go along for the ride. Luigi told me all sorts of cool stuff about Honduras and Teguc and it was fun just driving around the city. We went to the mall, which was just like any mall in the states. We had Subway for lunch, and we did get Quinton’s bags back. The trip was successful and totally worth the guilt I felt for not going to school.

Nothing more to report. Exams are this week…Just more of the same old same old. I am still thinkin’ about all y’all out there!

xoxoxoox

New Years Eve Honduran Style

2008-01-02T11:02:00.000-08:00

Oliva made it back from traveling with her sister and father so she was around to kick it for New Years Eve. Charles, Saul and I had talked about going to a bar in town called Bohemios to ring in the New Year. We figured we would make something tasty for dinner (fajitas) and have some drinks at home before going out. I went to town early in the day and bought the things we needed for dinner. On my way I saw 3 scarecrow type dolls in front of people’s houses.

When I got back home I realized that I forgot the bottle of champagne! On my way back into town I saw more and more scarecrows popping up in front of people’s homes. I asked the man at the Pulperia what they were for. Getting him to understand what I was asking was challenging (I don’t know the vocab for scarecrow or stuffed pants and shirt) and when he finally understood what I was talking about he said people have muñecos (dolls) to bring in the New Year and send out the old year. I then asked the taxi driver on my way home more about these muñecos. Apparently you were supposed to make a muñeco to burn at 2am. He said that last year his family made a muneco representing Osama bin Laden. I tried to figure out as much as I could about this tradition and felt like I understood enough about it to participate.

When I got home I called out Olivia and Charles and we made our own muñeco. We decided to create George Bush/He Who Must Not Be Named (Harry Potter villain). We included on the muñeco things we want to see eliminated in the New Year such as war, injustice, corruption, hate, prejudice, etc. We wrote personal things that we were not sad to see gone with 2007 (bad ankle, bad habits, high school). It was great fun to create this muñeco and were getting excited to watch it burn! We put him outside of our gate to hang out until 2008.

An hour or so later Charles went down the road for something and when he came back he saw a handful of kids ripping apart our muñeco! He chased them off but our poor doll was ruined. We weren’t too torn up about it, and didn’t bother to re-create it. The pair of pants we used disappeared, hopefully to some woman who will make good use of them. The newspaper eventually was picked up by the culprits who were just after the firecrackers you are supposed to put inside the muñeco. We didn’t know about this part so the kids found nothing inside. Cheaters never win, right?

Around 11pm we left our house and went to Bohemios. When we got there we were the only people there! The bar tender said they really weren’t open until midnight but served us a drink anyway. A couple more people eventually came into the bar. Between Charles’ phone, the clock on the computer at the bar responsible for the music, and the watch of one of the other patrons we had 3 very different times so we never really knew the exact moment that 2008 engulfed us. We tried to figure it out based on the time when the town experienced the biggest blasts of firecrackers. There were extreme explosions for about 10 solid minutes….so we just hung out in the time warp. Soon after midnight the place started to fill. A couple people we know from town were there. Carlos and I danced the merengue (great, dizzying fun!) and I chatted with Marlon the dental school student for sometime. Charles and I danced to techno music and were the only people in the place who could find the beat. When the raggaeton started we looked like rythymless fools but kept dancing anyway. Olivia and I found ourselves back at home sometime after 4am.

I didn’t leave the house once yesterday which was great. I made Hoppin’ Johns for good luck, just like my mom told me to. I watched some Veronica Mars with Olivia and fell asleep at 7pm. So far 2008 has been totally relaxing….and if this indicates anything it looks like it will be a pretty good year.

Just a couple observations….

2007-12-29T14:24:00.000-08:00

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.

Changes

2007-12-23T10:10:00.000-08:00

I have always thought that relationships that survive multiple transitions and changes are the strongest . I guess that goes for experiences as well. Change is happening all around. I don’t feel apprehensive about this change, like I felt about the last change I endured (moving to a new country, starting a new job, etc.) but instead quite brave and a little sophomoric.

Julie left this morning. I adore my relationship with that women. It was not hard to see her go because she has not been her best here. Her mind and heart was elsewhere and when that happens you best go to where your mind and heart is. It also was not hard to see her go because I know our relationship will most certainly endure this change. We have been through so much together this experience is but a drop in a hat. I will see her in the summer and will exchange letters in the meantime. I know she will be happier because she is with the one she loves and I love her most when she is happy. I wish her love. I wish her all the best.

Quinton and Olivia are also gone. Quinton is in the states visiting his padres and Olivia is touring her father around Honduras. Charles is here and sometimes he is so ghostlike its almost as if he wasn’t around (though I just had a great conversation with him). There are 4 of the construction guys in my yard building the house for Julie’s replacement. His name is Dan. We found him through the Peace Corps job posting newsletter. He served in Tonga about the same time I was in Jamaica. It will be cool to hear about his experiences, and I know he will be able to handle the chaos that the school can be. I am sure he will be an instant friend. So here I am…with two weeks to do whatever I want. It feels nicer than I could have imagined. Plans could take me to Costa Rica, Guatemala, or Gracia, Lempira. It’s not urgent to make plans and I will see where the winds blow me after Christmas.

The past few days have been a bit chaotic. Early in the week I pulled together packets of homework for my students so they don’t forget everything in the next 2 weeks. I graded about a foot tall stack of papers, got those back to the kids and even managed to throw together a little class party (brownies, pop, and a secreto amigo exchange). Thursday we had a Christmas Concert at school, which was a much bigger deal than any of the US teachers thought. Just a little miscommunication. Being the music teacher it was my responsibility to teach Christmas carols in English. Not thinking it was too big of a deal (I sort of treat these music classes like a joke…..) I only taught a few songs that we didn’t practice all that much. The Honduran teachers, on the other hand, had full dance performances with costumes, a play and tons of Spanish carols. Next year I will be better prepared. The concert was a success in the end and my classes did fine singing their songs. All the parents were there and we served up 200 plates of a fancy lunch: pork, vegetable rice, potato salad, some sort of salad of beets and mantaquilla, 1000 island dressing , slices of white bread and coca cola classic. There was also tres leche cake, which is soggy cake…the texture is terrible though the taste has something to offer. The Teacher’s Christmas party we had the weekend before was way more fun and much less stressful (rum punch, fancy clothes, secreto amigo presents, pollo asado con salsa de barbacoa, Mr. Reynaldo’s backyard full of hammock…I am sure you’d agree.)

Yesterday I went running all over the town getting presents to send home with Julie. I’d tell you the cool things I found - but that would spoil the surprise. I spent the day with Oscar and Luigi. Of course they played about a billion jokes before the sun set. I hadn’t seen Oscar in awhile and of course it was great to see him. He told Julie and I some pretty gruesome stories about violence he’s encountered in his life. The late 1990’s was pretty rough in San Pedro Sula, and on two separate occasion was caught in crossfire. I sparks my interest and I want to read some books about these Central American gangs. Rest assured padres y abuelos. Siguatepeque and Comayagua are not places like San Pedro or Teguc. Quinton and I passed out Christmas cookies to the key community members in our life. This includes Oscar and Luigi, Claudia at the post office, Tina at the laundry place, Cesar the owner of the internet place downtown, the girls that work at the internet place downtown and the guys at the internet place near to our house. It was fun.

This brings us to today. I’m alone in my newly arranged room. No one around but Charles the ghost and the construction men. It feels good to have this bit of uninterrupted alone time.

likklemore still mis amigos.

love.love.love.

2007-12-09T14:21:00.000-08:00

I fell in love this past week. Real, honest love. This love is certainly not perfect, and often times I am driven insane by my loves, but I really love them all the same. I speak of the little beasts in second grade. Now that I love them with this unconditional love they are a source of inspiration. They make me feel good about myself as a teacher and impress me everyday with their newfound abilities. I want to do nice things for them and plan interesting lessons that will make them enjoy learning. A couple highlights of the week.

The Spelling Bee.

On Monday at Civic Hour we were told there would be a spelling bee on Friday. I was under the impression it was just for the older kids until Khalila decided that half of the second grade students would be able to participate. When I told the second graders this, they were stoked. I have never seen them practice their spelling words quite like this. On Thursday we had the class spelling bee. Only eight of the 16 kids would be able to participate the next day in the school’s spelling bee, so we had to narrow it down. They spelled and spelled and finally there were eight of the best spellers. Some of them were suprises to me. Carlos Anderson (who cracked his head open earlier in the week and received 3 stiches) made the top eight and he is the lowest student in English. Also Kelvin, who tries really hard but is just off the mark most of the time, spelled his way to the top. Of course Carlito (Carlos Cruz), Kensy and Hector were in the top….they are the smartest kids in the class. Even Dafne, who did not make the top eight, charmed me with her made up spelling and was excited for her classmate who were going to the school’s spelling bee.

Friday was a buzz all over school with children spelling away. Any break we had students would ask us to question them with spelling words. Excitement was in the air. The second grade was just competing against themselves, but they didn’t flinch when they had to spell these words in front of the whole school and their parents. Rabbit got out about half of them, Kelvin couldn’t spell Friday and Hector had a hard time with roots ( I think he got nervous at that point…it was down to him, Kensy and Carlito). Carlito eventually won by spelling Wednesday correctly. Their classmate who weren’t participating sat silently in the audience and sent good vibes and cheered at their successes and were compassionate when they got out. I have not ever been so proud of a bunch of little kids in my life.

Una Sardina y tortilla con quesillo.

At recess everyday we are given breakfast. I like to sit and eat mine on the only bench in school that is next to the cafeteria line. Wednesday I was joined by Carlos Anderson, Hector, Jonathan and Erick. We sat and ate our tortilla con quesillos while singing a repeat after me song: Una Sardina, Dos Sar dinas, something else in Spanish that I just mumble along, Chi Chi ti wa wa, Wa Wa ti chi chi. Something else I am unsure of, pregunta _________(inset name of someone). The boys were into the fact I was playing with them and singing their song. For the entirety of recess we sat there and sang this little song and enjoyed our desayuno. Not one boy bothered another boy, not one boy hit another boy. It was a beautiful moment.

Dafne’s Breakdown

Dafne often freaks out. She is the absolute oposite of graceful, speaks her mind, and doesn’t have the manners that some of her peers have. This comes from the lassez faire upbringing she receives from her grandparents. Her mother is stuck in the United States and her father is M.I.A. Friday, Dafne’s nerves were on edge probably because of the excitement of the Spelling Bee. She was in a volitle mood and the boys gradually pushed her over the edge. All the boys except Erick that is.

Erick is the most hyper active boy in the second grade. He can’t stay in his seat, rarely finishes his work, is often caught pegar-ing or molest-ing (hitting and bothering respectively) his classmates. While he is very naughty he has a good heart and on this particular day when Dafne’s mood was on edge he was full of good intentions.

We started a game of LINGO (a UNICEF game from my childhood - BINGO but with farm animals, fruits, vegetables and grains). Erick and Dafne were partners in the game and Dafne was being a little brat about playing the game. This was causing Erick great distress as he wanted to play the game but couldn’t with Dafne’s bad attitude. Erick came to me and I pleaded with him to give Dafne one more chance before he freaked out as well. Sure enough, Dafne came around and the two of them had a fine time playing the game.

Forty-five minutes pass and we are using the clocks we made earlier in the week to tell time. Hector comes to my desk balling his eyes out as Dafne has punched him numerous time in the neck. I call Dafne over to apologize and explain herself. Hector was being bothersome (not too suprising) and she had simply had enough. The little badass in her let him have it. Of course violence is not the answer and I explained to her she can’t hit people like that and needs to try using words instead. Maybe she understands what I am saying, maybe not, but she looses it. She sits in my chair and cries and cries ancd cries. She doesn’t stop until Erick comes to my desk and in the most gentle and genuine manner asks Dafne to come back to her seat because he wants to stit by her and work with her again. He calms her down and she eventually makes it back to her seat next to Erick. Bless their little hearts.

Dafne needs lots of extra love. She goes home and doesn’t receive hugs and kisses. Nobody is there to brush her hair and put it up in fancy hairdos. Nobody helps her with her homework. I can give these things to her. Just getting five hugs from me everyday has shown Dafne that I am here for her. She knows she can climb under my desk and have herself a little breakdown. I feel like my being here in Honduras is important for Dafne, if for no other reason. I hope to give Dafne the academic confidence she needs to continue excelling, and the love she needs to feel content and cared for. I can’t call this playing favorites because Dafne needs this from me and she is so naughty that favorite seems like a strong word. But I guess I always like the naughty ones the best.

Outside of school life has been okay. I am slowly getting a sence of the culture. My friend Oscar is getting married in three weeks and I find it strange that it has taken him months to tell me this bit of news. And still he does not want to talk to me about it at all. Now I can’t be too sure if everything he has told me is fabrications of the truth or not. This doesn’t stop our good conversations of geography, science, history, joke making and music talk. Married or not, he can still be my friend. Luigi is also opening up more and is interested in showing Quinton and I the cool things to see in the surrounding area. It's nice hanging out with Luigi at the pizza place on Saturdays while we wait for our laundry. He is full of stories and jokes and sometimes reminds me of my Dad in respect to the stories he comes out with. We have also made friends with a woman named Morgan who works half of the week in Sigua and the other half of the week in San Pedro Sula at an AIDS clinic. She is from Atlanta and is cool as hell. We went to a comidor for pupusas and then for ice cream in the parque the other night and just shot the shit about life. Friday she came over to our house for dinner and talked some more. In January we are planning to go spend a weekend in San Pedro with her and finding one of the two sushi restaurants in this country.

Winter break is in two weeks and I will be left alone. Julie is going home for good, Quinton is going home for Christmas and New Years and Olivia is traveling with her father and sister who will be visiting. I am considering going to San Pedro, Guatemala for a week of Spanish class. Classes are much cheaper in Guatemala plus I really want to check out Lake Atitlan and this active volcano on the shores. The week of Christmas itself, I’ll hang out here with Khalila and Karla and their families. I won’t be too alone and it will be fun to experience Honduran Christmas.

Signing off….love to everyone.

thanks for everything-

2007-11-26T14:30:00.000-08:00

Today concludes Thanksgiving weekend. For a country that does not celebrate the holiday, I feel remarkably like I would at the end of a really wonderful Thanksgiving weekend in the states. I am tired, well fed and not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. I am putting off lesson plans and grading papers,and instead looking over pictures of the weekend, listening to the new Jay Z album my brother sent me and admiring my new Oregon sweatshirt!!! I love Pete and Stef! Today is kind of like Christmas!

Let me backtrak a little bit. Last weekend, moments after my last blog entry, Quinton, Julie and I found ourselves in the Parque Central hanging out with teachers from another Bilingual School. We sat in the sun and enjoyed the afternoon. It was great gringo time. I feel like these other teachers are becoming our real friends. Catherine and Amanda and I are planning at trip to Costa Rica over Christmas seeing that all my co workers have elaborate plans that don’t include me. Anyway - we made plans to loiter in the Parque in Comayagua on Sunday. I am totally into these Parques that are designed for the sole purpose of hanging out. In Comayagua we met up with Oscar and Luigi who were in Comayagua at Oscar’s house and on their way to Siguatepeque. Oscar and I drank watermelon liquados and talked for a few hours while the others explored the town. Talking with him makes me so happy that I am at a precarious place in my life where I don’t have to make any life decisions. He reminds me a lot of Ethan (Rio)….a lawyer who hates his work and wants to do something different. I think Oscar is going more of the Park Ranger route with his plans to go back to school for a Master’s in environmental something or another. But in the meantime he is a lawyer and is working for our school to get us gringos work permits to stay in Honduras.

The week was spent getting getting ready for our Thanksgiving feast and getting stuff done so Oscar can take our work permit papers down to Tegucigalpa. For that we had to get our Honduran criminal background checks (4 months here and I still have a clean record - whew!) and a physical. My heart is still beating, my lungs move air and my blood pressure is fine. Now I just have to wait for immigration to make sure that I am okay to stick around this country.

For Thanksgiving Quinton and I planned a shindig for the teachers at school. We really just wanted the day off from school and the best way to get that accomplished was to host a feast for the teachers at school. Principal Khalila called a half day on Thursday and excused Quinton and I from school so we could cook our little hearts out. The day began with mimosas and washing the turkey. On the menu for the feast was: Turkey with peach marmalade glaze, mashed potatoes, cornbread stuffing, brocoli and cheese, garlic butter green beans, macaroni and cheese, gravy, rolls, cranberry sauce, pumkin pie, apple pie and chocolate cake.

We invited all the teachers and their kids so the guest list was right around 30 people. Needless to say we had a lot of food on our hands. By 4pm the Turkey was done and everything else was ready to go. Once everyone had eaten (for most of them this was their first Thansgiving, and they LOVED the nuevo comida) we went around and said what we were thankful for. Most people were thankful for God, their families, their health and a lot of people were thankful that Khalila had created the school and provided them with jobs. I said I was thankful that everyone here has taken such good care of me and made me feel so welcome. (Also thanks to the guys that built our house - better late than never, to Saul the bus driver for getting us to school everyday and not freaking out too much about the bus, and to Khalila for catering to all of our needs). Vice principal Mr. Reynaldo was so moved by the whole thing he was too chocked up to speak, which of course made us all teary.

But enough of the sappy stuff. After giving thanks and eating desert the dance party began . Mr. Byron, who lives just a few blocks away, brought over his big ass stero system and we danced the night away. One day I will figure out this rhythm and will be able to shake my booty with the best of them. The party broke up around 9pm (enough time for everyone to get home, go to bed and be ready for school the next day) and I washed some dishes and had a great talk with Saul about life, love and the persuit of happiness. It’s great to hear about this things from a Honduran perspective.

Friday was an obvious hard day for all the teachers. We were buzzing all day about the fun we’d had the night before and can’t wait for another reason to get together. They all say Christmas.

Saturday Quinton, Olivia and I went to Cofridia for yet another Thanksgiving Dinner. Mel and Toby, my Australian friends who are volunteers at a Bilingual school, were having a Thanksgiving at their house, hosted by their American roomate. As always it was so good to see Mel and Toby who I always have such thoughtful conversations with. The dinner was great and it was nice to meet all the other volunteers in the town.

The sun was shining the whole way back to Siguatepeque today and I dozed off while listening to This American Life on my ipod. I felt connected to home as I listened to Ira Glass introduce thought provoking stories of Cat and Mouse while at the same time connected to my new home- seeing familiar sights pass me - women selling fish to the bus passengers from the windows, drunk men passed out on the side of the road, women washing clothes at the pilas in their yard, little children in their underwear diving into waters I would never approach. As we moved into the mountains I felt a little homecoming. Lago de Yojoa was such a familiar sight bringing me closer and closer home to Sigua.

comayagua

2007-11-17T09:22:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, after a week of being sick, for a little fresh air I went to the capitol of my department, Comayagua. What a beautiful colonial city. It is exactly what I imagined Central America to be like. The streets are narrow with store fronts right up against the streets. The Parque was like no place I have ever been. It was totally designed for sitting and hanging out. I sat there with my friend Oscar for four hours just enjoying the sun and the music that the city has piped in. It seems that bands are playing just for you from the bushes.

Just off the Parque there is the Cathedral which is the highlight attraction of the town. I think it was built in the late 1500s and is a masterpiece. As I sat in the parque drinking cafe con leche I jotted this down: ¨This church, this cathedral is beyond anything I have ever seen before. Structures like these make me believe there is a God. The builders - artisans - who built this Holy Place must have known something greater. The place is massive and smokey and stirs your emotions just being near it. It is peaceful at the same time a comotions of spirit. I feel fraudulant to enter and enjoy the space. I feel like I would be moved to tears for reasons I don´t understand. I know I am welcome here but am not certain enough to enter.¨ Later in the afternoon Oscar and I went in. Oscar, being catholic, showed his respect in true catholic ways as I stood by unable to breathe at the beauty and magnitue of this place. I still can´t really put it to words....

We went to a museaum and learned about the ancient-ness of the area. We saw stone pots and pans and weapons and jewlery from the Lenca people dated around 900 years ago. In the town there is an old building ruined in an earthquake 200 years ago that was a merchantile building in 1400. Comayagua was one of the few towns of Central America back then with it's location being important because it is centrally located. If my Spanish was better I would have understood more of what the Docent at the museaum was saying.

Oscar was an outstanding tour guide. It is really nice to have a Honduran around to help translate, show you around and give you glimpses into the life of a Honduran. He's great and I am happy he is my friend.

My trip to Comayagua was great and this weekend my roomates and some teachers from another biligual school are going to look around. Who knew such a cool place has been 25 minutes away this whole time!

Today is a sunny day, which are few and far between these days. Like in Portland, sunny days are just as exciting as if you found an oasis in a desert. Quinton and Julie dropped off their laundry and we will run some more errands in town after lunch at Taco Belly´s. Maybe I´ll have me a gringa for lunch...they do say you are what you eat!.

I am starting to miss home....I think because people are talking about Holiday plans, and I have none. I do feel happy and content with this place, but I miss having people that I know and love AND people who know and love me nearby. But you all are in my heart and as cheezy as it sounds, thats where you are the most important. So my love is soaring out to you all. Cyber hugs and kisses to you all...

jessa

2007-11-11T15:04:00.000-08:00

November 9th, 2007
I write from my bed. I have been here for two days now trying to recover from a sore, swollen throat and fever. The weather changed a week or two ago bringing us cold to your bones weather. I was not prepared for this and spent the first part of this week wearing every layer I brought to this country and wishing I had a hat, scarf and gloves. While I shivered, I caught some germs which has forced me into my bed. I am tired of watching Quinton’s silly movies (today: The Devine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood, Vin Disels The Pacifier, and Legally Blonde II) and could use some fresh air. This evening we will venture into town for groceries and Chinese food. Hopefully they will have some hot and sour soup (my favorite soup for sickness). While I am starting to feel like I have merged onto the high speed road to recovery I will keep pushing fluids and eating vitamin C.

I did have my first Honduran doctor experience. When I had amoebas I just pooed into a jar and sent it off to the lab without seeing a doctor. This time I went to Dr. Oscar Suez. This man is about 5 feet tall and speaks just enough English. He was not in his office when we first arrived so we sat in his little waiting room. Compared to the various labs I have visited in Siguatepeque this office was pretty fancy. All evidence of home life was hidden if in fact the place was Dr. Oscar’s home at all. When he finally returned he invited me into his office where on his shelf was a book called Grey’s Anatomy. Who knew it was more than just a television series?? He peered into my throat and instantly started writing a prescription for some antibiotics. Over the years I have gotten pretty good at looking into my own throat, feeling my own glands and wishing I had a pad of prescription papers and a fancy signature instead of kicking down an arm and a leg to see a doctor. Here it was no big deal really, because that tongue depressor Dr. Oscar used and the piece of paper to write the prescription plus the comfort he gave me in knowing for sure that I needed some antibiotics was a mere $5.00. And the prescription itself? I can’t be totally sure as Khalila got those filled for me while I checked my email at the internet. I would guess no more than $10.00.

Quinton came with me to the doctor, just to be supportive, and ended up also seeing the doctor. He was sick earlier in the week and though felt much better was forced in by Khalila. He was given more allergy medicine….apparently Quinton has developed an allergy to cold weather. He should not worry - lots of Honduran’s, Khalila included, take allergy medicine when the weather turns cold. Strange.

November 10th, 2007
I am still writing from bed, but that is because I just woke up. The sun is shining for the first time in a long time and hopefully will dry up some of the mud. I am feeling better than I have in awhile though I am not totally sure if it is my mood that is more pleasant or if I am just feeling altogether better. Maybe both.

I have had plans for a week to go to Comayagua today to visit my friend Oscar (not to be confused with Dr. Oscar). Comayagua is the capitol of my department (also called Comayagua). Way back in the day it was the capitol of all of Honduras and has lots of historic buildings and little cobble stone streets. At Easter all the Catholics come out and they have a huge celebration on the streets, complete with saw dust carpets of our favorite bible stories and parades where fake Jesus’ hang on crosses. Apparently if you are over the beach scene, Comayagua is the place to be for Holy Week. I have heard great things about Comayagua and am eager to see more of Honduras.

I will close this with birthday greetings. I have been thinking about you birthday and wish I could pull it together to make a real celebration out of your birthdays! Ethan, Erin, Laura, Katie (still a few weeks, but I am thinking about you!), Damion Young, Dwight Page.

hasta tardes.

It's just life these days.....

2007-10-29T16:24:00.000-07:00

The bus has stopped breaking down (knock on wood), we have actually had a full week of school, our house is complete, I take a Spanish class three days a week. I have conquered all hurdles keeping me from routine. It’s just life now. It sure makes me happy.

Julie, Quinton and I went to Tela a few weekends ago for a relaxing time at the beach. Friday was a holiday so we didn’t have school, so on Thursday we left school a little early to catch the direct bus to the little beach town. We arrived in Tela during daylight, settled into our cheap hotel (blocks from the Caribbean Sea) and were so excited to be away from Siguatepeque. The evening was great. We had a great dinner of tipico (beans, crème, tortillas, grilled pork, eggs) and cervezas. After dinner we checked out the places along the beach. We has a margarita at this great little place on the “boardwalk” (it is not made of one piece of wood) were we were entertained by a mariachi band. The accordion player took my breath away, and the big fat man with the baritone voice gave me goose bumps. We didn’t stay out too late and fell asleep watching the first television I have seen in three months. I woke up about two hours later with what appeared to be food poisoning. I spent a rather unpleasant night vomiting in the bathroom with no toilet seat. The next day, I regained enough energy to lay on the beach. By 4pm Julie was feeling just as I had the night before. She was ill all night as well. We called our weekend quit’s Saturday and by the time we got back to Siguatepeque the rain had invaded and Quinton had his bout of vomiting. Our weekend turned out to be much gloomier than we had hoped for. At least we were home on Sunday to write our lesson plans.

This weekend we spent at home. It was the Bab’s birthday (a central figure in the Baha’i faith) and we had all intentions of going to the Baha’i center to learn a thing or two about this religion. Quinton, Julie and I took our laundry to the laundry place and got hungry for pizza. At the pizza place we met up with our friend Oscar who’s cousin owns the pizza restaurant. We lost track of time and missed the Bab’s birthday party. Oscar ended up coming over to our house to watch movies and hang out. Saturday we all lounged around all day and did absolutely nothing but make a big breakfast which we ate outside, watch a few episodes of Veronica Mars season one (thank you thank you thank you Lydia!!!) and play with the pets. Sunday was more of the same. Oso (our puppy!!!) had a bath and I spent an hour boiling chicken and rice for our princely cat, Memo.

At school this week we are giving the kids exams to mark the end of the first quarter. You should see the exam for first grade science. HA! I am not sure how appropriate final exams are for first graders. I think quizes are strange enough for these kids (who cannot read) much less something called a final exam. They will draw pictures for me, I guess. The end of next week we will have a music concert. It will be the big debut of Mister Sun, Animal Fair, The Wishy Washy Washer Woman, and Little Red Caboose! Will the children and parents of La Orquidea be able to handle the Outdoor School like flair of the event?!?! Will the children be able to pull it together without giggling? Only time will tell!

I must write more exams. love you all.

content

2007-10-09T18:08:00.000-07:00

At last. We have moved from the tiny house to our own spaces. I am happy and content like I have not been since I flipped my life around by moving to this country. I look around and things look familiar, spanish sounds familiar (though I might not understand what is being said), and this little town of Siguatepeque is growing on me. Quinton, Julie and I are going to the beach this weekend, which excites me. I have made some new friends, which is exciting as well. I have come to terms with the fact that teaching is really hard and teaching kids who don't understand what I am saying is even harder. But no worries. I know I am gaining serious skills and the kids appear to be learning something. We have a pet kitten now, who we have named Memo, and he is muy divertido. He livens the place up and helps to remind me not to take myself so seriously. It is time to get away from the computer screen, so likklemore my friends.

When in Rome do as the Romans do.....right?

2007-10-03T16:38:00.000-07:00

You know this gripe by now: Our house is not yet finished. I feel absolutely helpless to make my living situation tolerable. Generally I pride myself on being able to make the best of situations. I can do this by excessively enjoying the little things. Here those little things help, but do not make the situation any better. When is it okay for me to freak out?

I am no carpenter. I am no plumber. I can barely paint a wall to look nice. I also know I am in a developing country where the work ethic is totally different. I was raised in a country where prioritizing is something you learn in school, where organization was basically a birthright. These days it seems those skills alone could build this damn house. At times I think there is an entire conversation occurring around me regarding this house, and simply because my Spanish is crap I am unable to understand why it is taking so long to finish the job.

My mother raised me to be polite when visiting someone’s house. Offer to do the dishes after enjoying a meal prepared by someone else. Wipe your feet at the door and make pleasant conversation with the host. Now I am a guest in a country I basically invited myself to and I want to make the rules. I expect that the host country nationals should take care of me and make me feel comfortable. Is that rude? It sort of seems that way.

When I lived in Jamaica I eventually found myself compromising my beliefs for the sake of being pleasant. I was in someone else’s country and felt it was not my place to change the rules. I could disagree, but that wouldn’t change the national psyche. There was absolutely no way that I would make every man on that island realize the way that woman were treated on a whole was crap. Nor was it my place to do that. And maybe the women in Jamaica didn’t feel the same way as I did because we were raised in such different environments. So when it was time to go, it was okay for me to go.

It’s the same debate I face with myself now. I could just go home. It would be easy. In the grand scheme of things nobody would miss me. This housing debauchery is so superficial. If I lived my own house with not a soul around there would be something else pissing me off. It is the martyr in me that loves this. I won’t go home. I will get passed this frustration of not knowing what the #@%$ is going on most of the time. I will probably stay for a second year and smile to myself when I see the teachers that have just arrived freak out.

“If it takes shit to make bliss, then I feel pretty blissfully……if life’s not beautiful without the pain, well I just might as well never see beauty again…and as life gets longer awful feels softer, and it feels pretty soft to me.” - Modest Mouse

This is what makes this fun, I guess. Peace out, dogs (it means I love you here too)!

Battle of the Bands

2007-09-30T15:28:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought the bands had put their drumsticks away, I find out that our school is hosting a Battle of the Bands - like competition to celebrate the Aniversario of Taulabe. This ordeal was set up as a fundraiser by the Parent Teacher Association at our school. Who knew it would be such a big deal!

To build a vibe we marched again along the same parade route of Taulabe on Friday. After the parade (it was a little less attended than the parade for Independence) we went to the stadium for a mini Olympics. Kids ran, I cheered with the little kids from the bleachers, baleadas were cooked by the hundreds, children ran around for hours, the sun cooked us all....it was a fine event. When I got home, I immediately fell asleep and slept the night through.

Only to wake up the next morning at 6 am to be picked up by the school bus and taken back to Taulabe for the Band Competition. We first went to one of our student´s (Stephanie) house to make 300 hamburgers for each participating band member. After we depleted the pans of burgers and trays of condiments we enjoyed some of the tastiest coffee I´ve had in this country to date and a muffin provided by Stephanie´s mother. We then went back to the stadium where the bands were marching to. They all got in order on the field and prepared for the competition. It was fairly straight forward and speedy. Each band had 15 minutes to perform. There were eleven bands in all - three in the escuela category (that´s elementary and middle schools) and eight in the colegio (high school) category. The judges were from all over, and the big wig of the event was the Director of the Honduran National Band. It was pretty impressive that the PTA of La Orquidea managed to get him to come and judge our competition. I guess our parents are well connected in the band world.

My job for the day, after passing out water and juice to all the participants, was to guard the judges. I did this by standing behind them. It was not too hard. I got to sneak a few peeks at their score sheets to try and get some idea of what they were being judged on and who was doing well from a trained eye. I kept thinking that my dad would love this. The bands are comprised of mostly all drums. And the Lida, which is a giant glockenspiel, or metal xylophone. I was told marching bands took a turn for the wild side after the movie Drumline came out. Everyone wanted to dance and drum at the same time. I´d like to see my papa doing that!

Colegio Technico took home second place, which was a shock because they have won all the competitions in Siguatepeque. The band that won first was a smaller band from Yojoa de Santa Cruz, which is north of us, near to the lake. They had the best formations for sure. La Orquidea took home second in the escuela category, which was expected. The first place band had about 8 times as many members as our band. Overall the fundraiser was a huge success. Hopefully we made the few thousand dollars we need to buy lockers for the children.

angst is not just for teenagers

2007-09-23T15:12:00.000-07:00

I knew this would be hard, and so it is. In the midst of my angst I feel like I may loose it at anytime. However, this was my expectation so I feel okay about all the angst. I am even a little humored by it. What I have come to expect each day, my beloved and delicate routine, is never satisfied. This is hard. I don’t yet know what to actually expect. All I can expect is that I will be thrown for a loop, and a routine is not something I can depend on.

I have come to cherish the bus ride to school in the morning. Everyone is still waking up so conversation is extremely optional. I have a mug of hot coffee, sometimes my ipod, and a beautiful morning view to enjoy. Sometimes I sit by Quinton and he listens to me blabber about this or that, and occasionally he cracks a joke which gives me a good laugh to start my day. The getting ready part of my morning, before the bus ride, generally puts my mood on edge (‘ too many kids in this tub’ syndrome), and the bus ride soothes me. It prepares me to begin my school day.

Like I have written before the bus is a piece of shit. As we were leaving school the other day it wouldn’t start and the gears would not shift at all, so we had to take the public bus home. That was a fun adventure and turned into a fun and out of the ordinary night. We took Khalila’s kids with us on the public bus and they came over to our house while Khalila drove the rest of the school children home and ran errands. The walk from the bus to our house was in a torrential downpour and we were all soaked by the time we walked the three blocks to our house. At the house we dried off and changed clothes. A movie and chicken soup was in demand so we got cozy and enjoyed the dreary afternoon. Khalila came to retrieve her children and before they left we enjoyed the chicken soup as it rained and rained outside.

The next morning at six am sharp Saul, the bus driver, came for us in a pickup truck rather than the school bus (remember the trouble from the day before). We had to get in the back of the truck. I was wearing a skirt and buttoned down shirt and even spent more than 30 seconds on my hair. Once we started for school I felt the cold of the morning and the wind blew my hair around making dreadlocks. I shivered and cursed my way to school.
Perhaps this ride to school should have affected me no less than the ride home from school the day before. Both were upsets to my “routine”. Both were really not that big of a deal. Everything here is one adventure after another. My senses are always on high alert. And sometimes all I want is normality. Something that is normal to me. Something I recognize. And sometimes I want to get pissed off.

I know that my angst is stemming from the fact that I am sharing tiny little room and a house with way too many people. I want some space. I want independence. They tell us every week that our house will be finished by the weekend. And it has been close to seven weekends that it has not been finished. This weekend to make my self feel a little more settled I went out and bought a bunch of stuff for my new room. While Julie and I were looking around for stuff we came across a very battered and taped up box of Beneigt Mix (French doughnuts from New Orleans…a family favorite). It seemed to have fallen out of the clear blue sky and landed on the shelf in this super mercado just for us. We made them for breakfast this morning and enjoyed them with coffee and stories of New Orleans. Now I am enjoying my organized room thanks to yesterday’s purchases and will spend this rainy afternoon planning lessons and drinking hot tea. Doesn’t sound too bad does it?

pinatas, parades, punta dancing, oh my!

2007-09-15T17:16:00.000-07:00

What a week.

The last blog entry I made was amidst quite a chaotic week. It was calming to write my routine into my blog, while diverting from the routine every few days for a variety of fun and exciting anual activities.

Monday was Dia de los Ninos. Children's Day. All the kids came to school ready to beat pinatas, eat candy and ice cream and drive their teacher's insane. First thing in the morning the maintenace guys took the partition between my classroom and the 5th grade classroom out. The fifth grade classroom is about 2 1/2 feet higher than my classroom, which makes a nice stage for school assemblies and other prodctions. Let the games begin! I had to ask a 7th grade boy to translate for me as I explained the game "heads up, seven up" to my precious little second graders. The kids were captivated by the game for about 20 minutes and they decided it would be WAY more fun to jump off of the make shift stage into our classroom. This kept there attention for at least an hour. Ice cream was served. More jumping off the stage. Lunch was served. More stage jumping, dancing to radio, spinning, swinging, trust falls, etc. Cupcakes were served. Pinata time. We slaughtered a rabbit pinata in the exact amount of time it takes 17 second graders and 10 third graders to each have 5 wacks of the pinata. Fancy that! We teachers are smooth! After the kids all got their goody bags (full of candy, cookies, chips and plastic toys) it was time for them all to go home. When we saw our loyal POS school bus pull up to take us home, we saw it had a blown out tire. Never fear! It was only one tire of the dual wheels in the back so we were fine to drive back the 30 kilometers or so to Sigua with only three tires in the back. We made it and had a nice bonding session at the tire repair shop just outside of Sigua, where we waited 30 minutes or so until the tire was fixed. I remember in the states how kids had to deboard the school bus if it was ever getting gas. Here the kids stay on the bus while a tire is changed. You just can't ask questions. If you do, your head will spin right off.

Next day outside of routine. Friday. The elementary school marches in Anniversario Parades all over the country. My job was to keep the first and second grade boys in two perfect lines for the mile or two of the parade route. Yeah right. It was worse than hearding stray cats. But everyone had a great time and the weeks of practice our school's band put in paid off. The baton girls were also great, and I was especially impressed with my second grader, Kensy, who learned the routines in one day's time AND was able to twirl better than the older girls. Hector and and Erik, two of my favorties, didn't have the right uniform so they wore their PE clothes and we pinned red crosses to their backs. They were the water boys and were able to run up and down the road giving water to their schoolmates. The cracked my up the whole way.

As soon as the parade was over on Friday we went home, made some food, had some cocktails, and headed over to our friend Karla's house for dinner and dancing in honor of Dia de los maestros - Teacher's Day - which is actually observed with a day off school on this coming Monday. We had our fill of cocktails before we left for Karla's and once we arrived she was eager to serve us more. Let me just say that my Spanish was awesome last night! I had such a good time talking to all sorts of people who I don't usually talk to because they don't speak English. They were all patient with me and excited that I was giving it a shot. We danced to all sorts of music and I followed the steps as best as I could. By the time we found ourself at the discoteque later in the night I was able to baillar just fine. The disco was dead though because they weren't serving alcohol in honor of Independance Day.

Which brings us to today. I dragged myself out of bed at 8:00am to go downtown to watch the Independance Day Parade. This is a much bigger deal than the Parade yesterday in Taulabe for the little kids. All the high school's march and they have some spactacular marching bands, flag carriers, baton twirlers, etc. We found Karla and her kids watching the parade so we joined them and sat in the morning heat and sun. It was really great! Karla said that she hasn't had fun quite like last night in a long time. We will have to have a Dia de los Maestros fiesta at least once every two months!

Tonight I'll take it easy, because tomorrow Mr. Quinton and I are off on another adventure to La Esperanza. Pease out my friends.

2007-09-12T16:49:00.000-07:00

You asked for a day in the life, so here it is.

5:20am my watch alarm goes off. I lay in bed for 7-10 minutes hoping I don't fall back asleep. At 5:30 I go to the bathroom - generally having to fill the bucket at the pila outside to flush. Roomates are also beinging to move around the house at this point. I am lucky if I don't have a head on collision with someone before 6:00 when the peice of shit school bus (its a short, yellow bus) blares it's horn. We are on the bus by 6:05 at the latest. We meander through the town, avoiding potholes and stray dogs, picking up other La Orquidea children and teachers. By 6:30 we are on our way to Taulabe. On the bus ride I am finally awaken as I fear for my life a handful of times. One time might be as our P.O.S. school bus tries to pass a semi truck and just makes it back to our lane in time for a semi truck in oncoming traffic to zoom past. Another fearful moment may be when the driver puts the bus in any gear greater than first. Smoke billows out of the hole where a stereo may have once been and we all cringe at the horrible noise the gears make as they gride against one another. All I can think about in moments like these is the story Saul, the driver, told me about when the bus caught on fire the other day and he had to put it out with the 2 liter of coke he had in the bus. Hmmmm.

At about 5 or 10 minutes to 7 we arrive at school. I have about 5 minutes to put my books in the grade one class before I am back outside at the steps to great the children as the unload themselves from the other school bus arriving from Lago de Yojoa. It's a clown car, for sure. I am guessing they cram upwards of 40 students onto this bus. It is really just a conversion van with 5 benches inside, plus the seats in the front. 7:00 the bell should ring, but it never rings before 7:10.

First period: Science with first graders. 40 (30, really) minutes of "With my hands, I can touch" (we are learning about the 5 sense) repeated again and again and again. And a lot of tattle taleing, which cracks me up becuase I don't know what they are saying. When I am able to catch a culprit I like to use really big words with them such as: "Lidia (the naughtiest girl in my class), the behavior you are exhibiting right now is hindering both your social and academic development." Lidia looks apologetic and says " Yes, Miss." She has no clue what I am telling her. Ha!

Second period: Same thing as the first, only its math.

Third period: Geography with the sixth graders. There are three of them, and they are into the subject. We just finished learning about latitude and longitude.

Reseso: Children running, screaming and eating. I might have a baleada (flour tortilla with beans and cheese folded in half) or cadratcha (fried corn tortilla with beans and cheese on top)

Fourth, Fifth, Sixth and Seventh periods: Second grade. These kids make my head spin around in circles, but we humor eachother and love eachother a lot. Hector is my favorite and of course he is the naughtiest one of all. Sandy and Enma are pretty cool too - and Pearla and Carlos Cruz are the smartest. Carlos Cruz is more outspoken so he serves as the class translator rather often.

MUSICA - Mister Sun, Sun, Mister golden sun please shine down on me, and other camp favorites. Shall I teach the Long John Song next week??

At 1:35 my day is over...but the school bus does not take us back to Sigua until 2:30. We get home about 3:30 (why it takes so much longer to get home is beyond me......maybe its more uphill coming home and so the bus clunks along a lot slower) where I promtly take of my shoes and change out of my school clothes. I sometimes fall sound asleep, or days like today household chores are in order.

When I got home today I changed my clothes, made a sandwhich, and ran back out the door to get drinking water from Principal Khalila's house. At Khalila's I not only got water, but also got to play with our new puppy. Khalila's dog had puppies so she is giving one (the man dog) to our household. He is fluffy and brown and black and I might like to name him Bruno. He is really cute. Once our house is built the puppy can move in....I think it won't be until next weekend.

After I got back from getting water I went back on the road to get a $2.00 haircut. It looks just the same as haircuts that have costed $30.00. Now I am at the internet, and when I get home I will watch the last episode of Veronica Mars on my ipod, grade about a billion papers and quizzes and go to bed around 9:30 or so.

Thats my life these days.

it´s all happening

2007-08-24T16:30:00.000-07:00

It is the last weekend before school starts and I will be working the whole way through. Julie arrived Wednesday and in true Julie style has kicked my ass in gear by instilling the fear of children into me. I realized this week how much there is to do and so much of what needs to be done I will not know until I know what level the students are at. I will busy myself making posters and calenders and weather charts so we will have basic activities to pass the time for the first week. Hopefully during this first week, I will be able to asses every child and figure out where to begin my lessons. It does not help that the principal of the school will be watching me and assisting¨me in teaching reading and writing. She gave us a phonics lesson the other day that was the most boring activity of my life....and she expects me to use these same lessons for 8 year olds! I am afraid I will be livening things up a bit!

My first teaching success occurred this week. A student named Susan did not pass her social studies exam from sixth grade that would allow her to enter the seventh grade. I was given the task to test Susan again so she would be able to join her peers in the seventh grade. We sat down and figured what she learned last year, what was interesting to her, her basic knowledge of geography and some other stuff (her opinion on arranged marriage). After a week of studying and conversing about the world, she passed the test with a 90%. I am about 86% certain she has learned something she finds interesting and has retained some information.

My household is something else these days. I live with Charles from Chicago, Quinton from Delaware, Olivia from Savannah Georgia, and Julie. The five of us presently live in a TINY two bedroom house while we await the completion of the other house. I think the girls may move into the new house, and let the boys stay in the old house. In the new house has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a kitchen. To get to any of the other rooms you have to go outside, but having a bathroom in my bedroom (OUR bedroom - julie and I will share a room) seems like a great idea.

We have been entertaining ourselves with bathroom talk as I am sure we are all infected with amoebas. Actually, I am cured...I started taking amoeba medicine a few days ago, but the guys (who have been here longer than Olivia and Julie) I am sure are infected. It has made my stomach stronger, but what a process! For all of you who have pooped into a jar before know exactly what I am talking about.

We have had a few water tribulations. We had none for about 5 days. There was a small ration for toilet flushing only..but bathing and everything else was put on hold. Our kind boss brought us to her house to take showers, and we were able to learn a little about our water practices. If Quinton and Charles weren´t so freeking funny I might have had a nervous breakdown due to the stacks of dirty dishes, tons of dirty clothes and my dirty body. We made it through and by the time Julie arrived to the house water was plentiful and the boys had taken care of business and cleaned the house.

Olivia is the other woman of the house. She has some serious courage. She just graduated from high school and decided to take a year off before college to teach at La Orquedia. She is teaching the preschoolers. I think she is a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but this is going to be an amazingly important experience for her. She is here because she is Ba´hai, which is a religion. The principal of our school is also Ba´hai and so she has arranged this year to be like a mission trip for Olivia. Ba´hais believe in peace and love and other good stuff. I know the religion is not for me, because like most religions there are too many rules and I can´t seem to fit my spirituality into a box. But if I am to be surrounded by any religion peace and love sounds good to me!

I am going to sign off, but hopefully next time I add to this blog I will be able to add some photos. keep your fingers and toes crossed for good computer karma. peace and love, friends.

miss understanding

2007-08-16T14:49:00.000-07:00

There was once a great story about miss understanding. A likkle man named joe with a likkle dog bruno who got chopping bush (as in flora) with the american president and ended up paying for his misunderstanding. Well this story is not as funny or horrendous, but I got a good laugh.

I was going to wash my clothes in the pila (the greatest invention ever) and I told the men in the yard, who are building the house for the male teachers, that I was going to wash my clothes. Mind you this is all in spanish and it was a confusing conversation:

jessa: yo llavo mis ropas in pila
man: si, si. llave.
jessa: si.
man: jhgljksagdfjkasyfaihjkdfygsulgeytgjasdfjagf (something in spanish)
jessa: llavo mis ropas. si.
man. jkghfsgasfgashgfasjgf. si. (he walks away to the room he is staying in while he builds the house) gracias. (he holds out his clothes to be washed)
jessa: MIS ROPAS!
All other men: HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
jessa: ha ha ha!
man: hahaahaha!

Apparently I did not convey that I was washing my own clothes. He thought I wanted to wash his clothes. and I thought MIS was a word I had down.... Since then, then man whose name is Memo, has had dinner with us twice and we have been able to laugh off our mis understanding and teach each other the other´s language. He can now say: I am building a house, in english.

I have been at work for the past two days now. Yesterday was spent cleaning like crazy and today I began planning the years syllabus. It is going to be challenging teaching kids so young. I am giving them the basic building blocks of education. Hopefully I provide a strong foundation for them. Everyone at school seems nice. Some of the teachers speak no english and it is good for me to practice my spanish with them.

I am going to sign off so I can get some supplies for my classroom and then go back home to make posters and poster decorations. peace out my friends.

¨settling in

2007-08-13T10:12:00.000-07:00

i am settling into my new life. Things are muddier, louder, more confusing, and more fragrant than my life in portland was, and it makes me feel so much more aware. I know after a few months of living here I won´t be so sensitive to the roosters, the sweet smell of burning trash, the mud that creeps in between my toes while flip flopping along the road. I will understand what 428 lempiras is worth and if I have enough money to spend that amount. I will know the students I am teaching and the hesitations I am feeling now will either be justified or will be laughed about in retrospect. I love this feeling of sensitivity to a knew place....it all seems colorful (donovan always said it would be a colorful experience), and intriguing to piece together to make some sense of it. I like how excited I get when I see someone wearing a manu ginobli spurs jersey, or see something that says tacoma, washington. Or how neat it is to find organic peanut butter made right here in siguatepeque. Now that the torrential downpour is over, I am going to make my way down the main road of this town in search of a store that will sell me a tape player for my ipod for less than ninety four us dollars. It´s too bad my spanish is still so new....that will be saved for the next blog titled¨miss communication¨

uno semana

2007-08-04T11:43:00.000-07:00

I´ve been frustrated by computers before, but when they are extremely slow and everything is in a different language more operator errors are bound to happen, thus frustrating me more than ever.

Today I was supposed to have class with Lourdes, but she cancelled. I am not suprised- her brother just had a baby and she is taking the next month off from teaching to help him out. I think she was pretty much zoned out, even yesterday. I´ll get the four hours in sometime next week - two afternoons I´ll do two hours on top of the morning four. Spanish is coming along. I suprise myself everyday with my ability to understand a little more. I had a great time in el mercado (the market) yesterday. I bought some avacados, garlic, potatoes and chilie picante and the vendor was such a nice and friendly man that was patient and encouraging with my communication. Gracias, senor!

Staying at the hostel is an international experience. Everyone has an accent of some sort (even me, how exciting)! The past two nights there were three others in the room I am in. Two were a couple from Holland that have been traveling for 8 months. They just spent 3 months in suriname and venezuela, 2 months in jamaica, a month in cuba and a month or so in central america. It was great talking with them about jamaica and the rest of their adventures. It´s a whirlwind being around all these like minded people. And its so human to realize that some of these like minded people are terribly annoying, while others are amazing. The other woman staying in the room was from Germany and while she had the best of intentions she clung to me immediatley and invited herself along everywhere I went. She used the school I am taking my class at to hook herself up with all sorts of activities and today the director of the school asked how long she and I had been friends. When I told him I met her a day ago, he was shocked - she told him she was here visiting me! Weird. She´s gone now (as are the great folks from Holland) and a whole new crew of people will arrive sometime today. I may use the free cocktail card the hostel gave me to have a drink or two and practice some more spanish. We all know that alcohol removes your inhibitions....I am sure it will remove my inhibition of speaking crappy spanish!

I still have another week in this town, and while I am getting tired of how touristy everything is here I feel comfortable enough. The locals are used to people speaking next to no spanish and are patient with me, perhaps more so than in other parts of the country. So far every single person in Honduras has been kind, gentle and helpful, and I am very thankful for that. It will be nice to be back in Siguatepeque to settle myself into my own community and begin making connections there. And it will be great to have a little spanish under my belt to do that! I have taken a bunch of pictures and will sometime this week post them on this blog of mine. Until then imagine me under tropical blue skies, walking along cobblestone streets and dodging red, three wheeled mototaxis! Hasta luego mis amigos! AMOR!

First Day of School

2007-07-31T13:41:00.000-07:00

It´s been awhile since I encountered a first day of school. Today I met my maestra, Lourdes, at 8am to begin 4 hours of Spanish class. It went alright. I was suprised how many sentances I was able to contstruct. I think Lourdes was just being encouraging with my broken ``espanglish``.