2:00pm December 24 I realize it really is Christmas. The weather and not doing any Christmas shopping allowed me to avoid this reality until this moment. I was “helping” my old host family set up their nativity scene. [Side note: Notice that Baby Jesus is bigger than Mary, Joseph, the Wisemen on their camels and pretty much everything else, except the chimney which seems unnecessarily large. Also notice the people below are bigger than the houses. Scale and continuity of the characters/figures don’t seem to be issues. I have seen several others including a large community display with the same issue. Oh, and yes, you do see a wedding, plastic tractor and match box cars. I don’t get it but of course I told the family I liked it.]

I figured Christmas would hit me eventually. Despite several invitations, I almost spent Christmas day alone. I realized a few days before that in all likelihood I would remember that it really was Christmas and yes, I really was spending it alone doing absolutely nothing. Fearing the resulting depression and loneliness, I intruded on the Catholic missionaries for Christmas dinner. I know, for the cultural experience, I probably should have accepted one of the other invites, but honestly, I didn’t think I could handle watching another family’s celebration. We did have Hondurans in our midst (the mission director married a Honduran), so I think that covers the cultural bases. The 24^th is the big day of celebration here so I didn’t seem to miss anything.

Before watching the creation of the nativity scene, I helped my host family make nacatamales, a Christmas tradition for many people here. Nacatamales are filled with rice, potatoes, meat (usually chicken), a raisin, green olive, a piece of pig skin (not joking and I wish I had not discovered that) and whatever else the maker would like to add. They are wrapped up in banana leaves and boiled for 2 hours on a fagon (fireplace). They take the entire day to make and we made 50 tamales! Apparently, that was minor compared to the 70+ my family usually makes. Almost a week later I am still being offered tamales since everyone makes plenty to give away and now everyone is trying to pawn them off on someone else. The tamales are good, but I couldn’t eat them breakfast lunch and dinner for a week straight. You also have to be a little cautious when you eat them. It is a common practice here not to take the meat off the bone or remove large chunks of fat when putting them in foods such as tamales, taquitos, etc. I have also eaten fish soup here, with an entire fish, head to tail, sitting in a bowl of broth and vegetables. Priorities. Taking meat off the bones just isn’t high on the list here. The first time I bit into a bone when I expected rice and small pieces was a shock. Now I know to pay attention to what I am eating and break it up with a fork a little before diving in.

Other than the montage nativity scenes and blaring heat, Christmas isn’t too different here. There is however, a traditional midnight meal and countdown to Christmas day on the night of the 24^th. For some reason this was left out of every discussion I had with people about Christmas celebrations. I learned about the midnight meal about an hour and a half before it happened. Oddly, when I asked the missionaries if they knew about the midnight meal, they responded “we found out last night, when we were served.” Some families give presents on Christmas day, some wait until January 6 when the wisemen arrive, others forgo gift-giving due to the cost or do a Secret Santa exchange. I suppose giving gifts on the 6^th makes more sense considering the religious significance of giving gifts at Christmas.

Over the last month I heard many of the same Christmas tunes (often in English but not always) I always hear. Although the songs were the same, the frequency was MUCH lower, I never felt bombarded by “holiday joy”. Christmas music was actually a bit of a rarity. One Christmas song, then back to the regeton. Maybe the lack of Christmas music added to the “it’s not Christmas” feelings. I remembered Christmas approaching when I entered business or homes and saw the fake trees decorated. I forgot again the minute I left.

At times, spending Christmas away from my real family was difficult. The funny thing, is that if I had been home, I wouldn’t have done much differently, just with different people, I would have been bundled up. Ok, I probably would have played in the snow and would not have come home from church to find the power out, but celebration wise it wasn’t that different. I would have eaten a lot more if I had been home. I had enough, but there weren’t any Christmas goodies lying around to snack on for days or weeks on end (maybe a good thing). I miss Christmas cookies. I don’t miss any one kind in particular, just having the montage and choices begging to be eaten. I also missed Mom’s Danish pastries, a Christmas morning tradition. Instead, I had a cup of coffee and a nacatamale. Good, not the same.

I worried that talking to my family would be the most difficult thing to do. It turned out to be the easiest. I almost broke down talking to my favorite nephew. G-Man singing “Jingle Bells” is probably what I sound like singing in Spanish. A few words are quite clear, others are complete jibberish. Hearing an 18-month-old sing and call the dogs is precious, but when he says “Bye bye Lolo… I love you” I about died.

Despite the lack of Christmas shopping, I have kept busy. I painted my kitchen and a local carpenter made a table for my kitchen. Yea! I have a counter! You have no idea how easily I can be pleased. Granted, I still only have one uncomfortable stool so if I have guests, we will either have to stand or sit on the floor. Sorry for the long entry and rambling. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas (or holiday of your choice) and have an excellent New Year!

PS: Several people have asked me about my address. I have not changed it and haven’t yet decided whether I will or not. I can always pick up mail at the Peace Corps office in Tegus. If you send something there, I should get it. Si Dios quiere.

PHOTOS: My host mom making nacatamales. Host sister tying the banana leaves so they don’t fall apart while cooking. Nacatamales. The nativity scene, for scale, the chimney is wide enough for me to easily sit inside and the entire scene occupies half the porch, wall to wall.

My first visitor

I apologize for skipping over the details last time but here’s the rundown. Traci’s visit was excellent, although short. Between me attending a required meeting and her traveling from San Pedro Sula, we lost the first day. We had a plan for a few of my friends to meet her for dinner until I could get back from my meeting. I panicked briefly after receiving two messages asking “where is your sister, I can’t find her!” Initially, I thought she was abducted or something after arriving in Tegus. Rachel calmed my nerves by pointing out the likelihood that she was still on the bus. If she missed the one she intended, she may have had to wait awhile for the next. Buses often run on “Honduran time” also, which means a 2:00 bus may not leave until 2:30 or 3:00, maybe even later. Then again, it could leave at 1:50, you never know. In the end, she was fine. I forgot to warn her about “Honduran time” prior to her visit and she had to get on a later bus which, of course, left an hour behind schedule. Luckily, it all worked out.

We spent the first night together in Tegus with a few of my friends here. The next morning we took a bus back to Talanga to drop off her luggage and all of the wonderful things she brought me! A few Christmas presents, food and some items I had left home can really make a PCV’s day, or month. Any one of those things is pretty amazing, you can’t even imagine how excited I still am about all of it. I pushed it all way to enjoy later since I had the pleasure of my sister’s company. Now, I am enjoying the things she brought such as wine, my favorite sweatpants, a sweatshirt, slippers, books, and yes, chocolate! I love my family!
The pit stop in Talanga was brief, we spent just a few short hours unloading and repacking for a weekend trip to Yuscaran, El Paraiso. 1 ½ hours back to Tegus, then another 2 hours to Yuscaran for their feria, plenty of bus time. In Yuscaran, we enjoyed a visit to the local museum, an old mansion built during the peak of the town’s mining era and regional importance, a tour of the Guaro factory (a vodka like alcohol, the local brew: cheap and potent), and a little burro polo. Yes, burro polo, like polo on horses, but with donkeys. I finally got to ride a donkey! Don’t worry, Traci took plenty of pictures. Of course, between donkey riding experience, and beating the crap out of their donkeys, the Hondurans demolished the Peace Corps team. Despite the loss, it was quite entertaining. I now fully understand the meaning behind the phrase “stubborn as an ass”. In the evening, several of us saw our first, and likely last, Cock Fight. It was bloody. I was a little bored until I watched the owner suck the blood out of his roosters face and blow it on the ground. A drop landed on my arm. "It's ok, I eat chickens, it's no different." The sucking of the blood was a little much.

We made it back to Talanga to spend a few busy days in my sight. Although she hasn’t played baseball since about 5^th grade, she got to test her skills with my team of “8-12” year olds. Unfortunately, I am discovering that my best players are 13 and 14 and therefore ineligible for the Peace Corps League in April and May. Vamos a ver. She also witnessed my amazing teaching skills as she helped teach English to “first graders” (aka whoever shows up to the first grade classroom that day, most of them around 5 or 6 but they probably range from 4 to 9). She also experience one of the biggest issues for PCV’s in Honduras, getting people to show up to meetings. Hondurans are very nice. I am appreciative of this trait but sometimes it leads to problems. People want to be nice so they say they want to help with things and participate, but when it comes to showing up, sometimes they just don’t.

Like I said, the visit was short, and after teaching English in the morning, we were on another bus heading to the airport. I really appreciated her visit and am doing surprisingly well in the aftermath… not too depressed or lonely. I think having my own house (and SPEAKERS!) makes a big difference. It’s nice to have my own space to come and go as I please and just chill out without worrying about other people. If I wasn’t selfish before, I think I am becoming more so, rarely having to consider other people as I come and go, but that’s another story. Until next time…

Who gets shot?

Some of you have heard this story, but for the rest, it happened about a week and a half ago.

Yes, I got shot. In the head. By a BB gun. Yes, I am laughing about it. Who does that? Who gets shot with a BB and doesn't even realize what it is? I was sitting against a lamppost in the parque central, about 7-7:30pm, integrating, talking to a Honduran guy. I was thinking about going home because I was cold but hadn't found a break in the conversation to do so. All of a sudden something hit me in the back of the ear, right where my ear connects to my head. I thought I got caught in the crossfire of kids throwing rocks at each other. They do that. We (the kids I had been talking to and I) looked all over the ground for a rock but couldn't find one. I could feel a little bump behind my ear but I thought it was a blood vessel or some part of my body swelling up. When I felt it, I saw blood on my fingers. We walked across the street to a pulperia (like a convenient store) to get something to clean up the blood. The pulperia owner came around from behind the counter to look. "You didn't get hit with a rock, there is a BB stuck in your head!" Awesome.

There are still a few booths up with carnival games and food from the feria. I don't know if the attendants got bored and decided to take a shot directly at me, if they were shooting at something else, if it was an accident altogether, or if it was a very long ricochet. I have no idea and probably never will. We spent about 2 hours looking for an open doctor's office or someone who would see me. Not just the guy I had been talking to and I, but his entire family came along (whom I had never met previously)! The PCMO (PC Dr.) wanted me to go to Tegus so she could deal with it. The problem was getting to Tegus. Traveling at night is not the safest thing to do so everyone is hesitant. PC could send someone to get me if no one in my site could take me, I just have to tell them to do so. The problem was getting a straight answer. Everyone was trying to be helpful, but sometimes, that doesn't result in much actual help. I felt a little left out of the entire process, like a bystander. It's my freaking head! My frustration with running around town and having to ask the PCMO to wait every time she called was greater than my pain. Finally, someone suggested I go to the RedCross office and have them take me in the ambulance. I didn't need an ambulance, but if it was a ride to Tegus, I'll take it. I stopped to get my toothbrush since I would not be back until the next day. About 3 blocks from my house, we got out of the car, again. "Where are we? I asked" "La doctora." We found one. The PCMO had asked to speak to the doctor if we found one before they did anything. Despite this request, the doctora removed the BB. Just then, the concerned PCMO called, again. I ended up with a stitch or two behind my ear and was allowed to stay in Talanga for the night. (It doesn't meet the 4 stitch rule, but does having a foreign object removed boost the value?) Luckily, I bought a bed Thursday and didn't have to sleep on the floor again.

Yes, I kept the BB, at first to show the PCMO. Now it resides in my journal. I had to wait to share this ridiculous story until AFTER Traci's (hopefully) successful visit. Who gets shot in the head with a BB gun? I wasn't even doing anything wrong and there were kids playing all over the park!

Love and miss you. Yes, I am fine. As if the Hondurans didn't already think I was crazy, now they probably think I am completely nuts, laughing as I have a bullet stuck in my head!

Good news, I now have a bed. You can see all of the furniture I had in the last entry. Yes, the camping pad and sleepin bag were my bed until Thursday night and yes, I used a towel for a pillow. It felt like so much stuff every time I packed and moved from one house to the next. Now I realize how many things I don't have. How many things I will have to buy. The big stuff is obvious. I bought a bed and a small, 2 burner stovetop which resides on the tile floor. That used almost all of my move-in allowance. A borrowed stool serves as my only seat and counter, obviously it can't be both at once. I am still shopping for a toaster oven but it is all the small things that are killing me. I have a small pot, coffee mug and glasses. I can eat out of the mug or pot but have no silverware. That limits what I can eat a little. Mom, after all those years of scolding me for eating with my fingers, the practice is paying off. Hondurans don't use forks very often anyway, but they use tortillas to eat. I don't have tortillas or means to make them yet. I also realized that I brought a set of sheets but if I want to wash them I will have to buy another set. Or use the sleeping bag again. There are so many little things I haven't accumulate and I am dragging my feet about doing so. In time, I know I will have more than necessary.

While slowly furnishing my house, life and work continue. Classes are still winding down and there is a graduation or "promocion" almost everyday. The ceremonies I have witnessed were both similar to American graduations but much more attention is paid to each student. The classes are obviously smaller (there were 44 at the 6th grade graduation I went to yesterday) but giving diplomas still takes close to an hour. In stead of asking the audience to hold the applause until the end, the audience is requested to applaud each student, usually twice. Quite the long process but it is nice to see that each kid is recognized. The all looked so proud in their caps and gowns. At first, I attributed this to the fact that few kids make it through 6th grade so it is a significant accomplishment. Now that I think about it, I wonder if it is quite similar to our 8th grade or junior high/middle school graduation. I don't remember being proud, but I remember feeling very excited about no longer being a "middle schooler" and moving on to high school. I can't pretend to know exactly how those kids felt, especially since I don't even remember how I felt at a similar point in my life.

Another major difference between their graduations and ours is the food. After the ceremony, there is a full meal served. I can't complain about a free 4pm meal that covers both lunch and dinner. Especially since my cooking means are quite limited at the moment. Hondurans love to eat and they rarely have any sort of meeting or event without food. A full meal for the teachers, staff and families present is more than I would expect and more than you would ever find at an American graduation. Throughout the ceremony and meal a photographer snaps pictures of everything. Mostly very posed, serious faced pictures. The kids can ask to have their picture taken with teachers and family members if they choose. I don't know what happens with the pictures after, if each child or family can choose to buy each print or what. I felt very honored to have some of the kids request pictures with me since I have only been with them once a week for the last month and a half or so. I am intrigued by the apparent desire to have pictures taken giving/receiving gifts. Of course, each child gets a photo receiving their diploma. Many also choose to have their picture taken in a similar fashion, with a parent or sibling handing a wrapped gift or gift bag (usually with English slogans like, "glad to be a grad") to the graduate. Hondurans also tend to take serious photos, rarely smiling, but I think smiling for pictures is a fairly American thing to do.

Things are still giong fairly well. I have another story but it will have to wait...

I will try to upload pictures again but you never know

Home!

Happy Thanksgiving! I know I am a few days late, but that's how it goes. Yes, I did get to celebrate with some other volunteers. I went to La Paz, a town a little bigger than Talanga with many more resources. There are 2 PCVs there who share a huge house and were kind enough to host a Thanksgiving celebration. The social interaction was incredible. A food, wine, baseball, watching American football on TV. I also enjoyed getting to know some of the volunteers who have been here for awhile. Although we enjoyed turkey, mashed potatoes, bread and all kinds of other goodies, I missed cranberries, gravy and pecan pie! Even though we gave thanks and ate plenty, it didn't really feel like Thanksgiving without family and the bite of cold weather. It didn't even rain. It was a good time but I still cannot process that it is officially Christmas season. I refuse to accept the coming arrival of Christmas until after Thanksgiving. One holiday at a time please. Apparently, if you head to the mall in Tegus there is a huge tree and it is swimming in the Christmas spirit. I haven't been. I am not sure that I am ready. The whole weather not changing still weirds me out.

Other good news: I officially moved into my own house yesterday and spent my first night alone. It was a little scary. My house if very secure but snuggling up in my sleeping bag on my camping pad wasn't very homely. The house is COMPLETELY unfurnished. Here are pictures of the front door and my bedroom. The shelves built into the wall are the only furniture in the entire place. There are three rooms: a living room, bedroom and "kitchen". The kitchen could easily be the bedroom since there aren't countertops or appliances. Although my host family was very nice and I have to buy EVERYTHING for the house, the thought of my own space is almost too much to deal with. This new house has many luxuries that I am not guaranteed here or have been living with out. My favorite things about my house, besides my selfish desire for solitude (like I don't get enough surrounded by people I don't know): light in the bathroom, water tank giving me a flushing toilet, sink and shower (cold). I had none of these things in my last home. You flushed the toilet by dumping in a bucket of water, bathe with a bucket and do both in the dark. I also have a cozy little front porch and a place where I can hang a few clothes. The negatives are that I share the back "yard" area with my landlord and her family and it will take me awhile to furnish the three rooms, if I ever get around to it. Right now, but focus is on a bed, stovetop, toaster oven and maybe silverware and dishes to eat and cook with.

As far as work goes, this is a slow time of year. Schools are wrapping up (the system is different and it is a slow, drawn out process) so I'm not sure exactly what I will be doing during the next few months besides trying to integrate into my community and make friends.

To hell and back

Hands down, last week was my worst yet. After my wonderful visit with Emily and Kyler, I cam back reminded that I have no friends here. The first few days I felt lonely and depressed but don't worry, that didn't last long. I discovered I had head lice and was forced to focus my despair on my scalp! How did I avoid head lice as a kid and get it when I am 24! Oh, yeah, I am in a third world country. I don't know when or where exactly I picked up the lice, but I'm sure it came from some kid I was befriending! I called the PCMO (PC doctor) for medication and treated it the same day. That problem solved.
The next day, I had to call the PCMO again, new problem. I had a fever (101.8 and I think my temp runs a little low normally). The PCMO gave me the name of a local doctor so I visited him. After checking my BP, throat, temp, chest and back sounds, he handed me a piece of paper and told me to give it to the woman out front (the office is also a full service pharmacy). "Um, what do I have?" I had to ask. "Malaria." Shouldn't you do a blood test to check for that? I didn't ask out loud. When I finally reached the PCMO the next day, she had me go to the office in Tegus for a blood test. Turned out, I didn't have malaria. I expected as much but it is nice to know that my blood test was normal on all fronts. It may have been a mild case of Dengue (which is also carried and spread by mosquitoes) but my blood was normal so they don't really know what it was/is. I started getting better but woke up Sunday with cold-like symptoms: cough, stuffy nose, all the things I didn't have before. I am happy to report that I feel much better, both physically and mentall, but it was a rough week.
Of course I had to be sick and feel awful the week of my ferria too! There were actually things to do in my town. Although, as far as ferrias go, I don't think mine is that great, there are carnival like activities, boothes of jewelry and other useless trinkets to buy, a mini parade to the Catholic church each afternoon, things like that. When I say "mini" parade, generally there is one car decorated into a float. Each town has their own ferria to celebrate their patron saint. Ours is San Diego (I think!). Of course, I ventured out a few times to watch a little of the commotion, but I couldn't really appreciate it as much as I may normally. I spent a lot of time in bed. Thank goodness for my Ipod. It's probably my favorite thing right now. So yes, I feel much better, just need to kick the last of a scratchy throat and get my energy back.

Things Hondurans (in general, of course) LOVE:
firecrackers (you know, the ones that just go "BOOM"), especially at odd hours of the night/morning
lace
curtains over doorways (it's supposed to give privacy when the door is open)
extended cab pick-ups (and all the variations)
dinamicas (ice breakers and similar activities)
fried food
hard candy (especially suckers)
drinking out of bags

I have friends? I almost forgot!

This week I had a great opportunity to see a little more of Honduras and learn about Baseball. Yes, I know the basics but since I am supposed to be coaching a team and the last time I played softball was about 8th grade, I needed the refresher. Kyler and Emily are starting their own team in San Francisco del Valle, Ocotopeque (it's near the borders to El Salvador and Guatamala). Since most of these kids have never played or watched much baseball, they are clueless, even to the basic concepts. As an introduction and to feel out interest, Kyler put on a 3 day baseball camp. Expecting about 40-60 kids, he enlisted my help (also a great reason to visit friends). By day 3, 40-60 kids turned into almost 100 (that we counted). Granted, some of them were outside the 8-12 year old age range, but that is still a lot of kids to practice with.

The trip was great. They have a great site and it was wonderful spending time with friends. I had been feeling a little isolated from that the last month or so. I also visited Connie Head (yes, another person from Wenatchee serving in Peace Corps Honduras, although she finishes her service in December) so that was a good time.

This entire trip has been a little bit more of an adventure than I expected. I left my house in Talanga at 5:40am Sunday. About 10 minutes outside Talanga the bus broke down. Great start to a 10+ hour trip, that leaves a lot of time for more problems. Luckily, that wasn't the case. Another bus passed about 30 minutes later and we made it (quite crowded but safely) to Tegus. Of course the taxi driver tried to rip me off (and sort of exceeded but not too much) for the 3 min cab ride. Yes, I timed it. 3 minutes, is not far by any standards. The rest of the trip was long and slow but pleasantly uneventful. I did recieve a drawing from my last seat buddy, a 17 year old Honduran boy who just graduated from colegio. I'm going to need wall decorations when I move into my house and that's a start. hahaha. I arrived in San Francisco at about 5:30pm. Yes 12 hours and I only changed buses once with a 30 minutes wait. Hence my excitement about the possibility of a ride back with one of the PC doctors (PCMO) who was in the area.

I cut a few hours off my trip back to Tegus by going with the PCMO. Unfortunately, we left a little late in the afternoon for me to catch a bus from Tegus to Talanga. I tried to stay in one of the usual PC hotels but they were both booked for the night. I received clearance to try the Maya, the backup plan because it's more expensive (I think "Guad 1 and 2" run about 250 lempiras/night, the Maya is about triple that). The Maya was also almost full and could only put me in a L1000 room. For those of you trying to do the conversion, I think it's about $60. That's fine when we're earning a US salary but you forgot, I earn Lempiras and that's more than a week's pay. Luckily, I think PC will reimburse me for part of it but I am waiting to hear. Either way, my "free" ride probably turned out to be more expensive than the L184 bus ticket and an extra night in Tegus. There are positives though... I am taking advantage of free internet at the PC office and I got to pick up my packages! (Thanks Traci and Katie and Abbey and crew for the Halloween care! I love them both! Also served well for breakfast :) )

It's really hard for me to conceptualize the time of year and that Christmas is approaching to quickly because the weather hasn't changed since I arrived in July. I bought chocolate last week and when I realized it was Christmas wrapped, my initial reaction was "How old is this?!... Oh, it's October, it's for this year." For a second, I thought it was July. Time to run but I am doing well and still enjoying my experience here. Miss and love you all!

Hopefully this entry is a little less awkward than the last. This week was a little sad because it may have been the last time I will see some of my kids until next year. I leave tomorrow morning to help my fellow Washingtonians with a baseball camp. Since their site is about 10 hours from Tegus by bus, I´m going to make the trip worth it and stay a few days. The camp is 3 days anyway so I will get to spend Halloweed with them, even though it will likely be uneventful. It will be great to have friends for a few days.

On that note, I met the Catholic (Passionists) missionaries who live in Talanga. Thursday night, after a short church service, we watched fútbolito and I stayed out until 10:30 pm! I know, I'm crazy. Although I liked being able to tell the Hondurans when they ask if I am with the "other gringos" that I didn´t know any others in town, I did like feeling like I had friends and it is nice to know that if I need anything, they aren´t far away. It was also nice to speak at a normal pace for a change and not have to think so much about each sentence. Although my Spanish has improved dramatically, it isn´t quite natural yet. It´s funny because as my Spanish becomes more natural, random English words slip in more. Usually, other people don't seem to notice, or I catch it in time to translate for myself and switch back to Spanish but sometimes I can't help but laugh. Usually they are transition words like "but" or "and" and I find myself making the same mistakes in the opposite direction. When I am trying to speak Spanish, I throw in English words without realizing it. I guess that is a good sign and most of the time the other person doesn´t realize it because they probably do the same thing.

Lately I have been spending just about every afternoon in the parque central. Since I don't have much to do in the afternoons, I sit in the park and write in my journal. I've written so much lately, that it is becoming difficult to write more than a page or two each day. I try to spend as much time as I can in the park. Usually I meet at least a few new people and the same kid asks me for money every day. At first I felt a little guilty saying no but yesterday changed that. "Dime pisto," he mumbles. "Give me money." (In the command form, of course.) I always tell him no. Yesterday, about 6 other kids appeared out of nowhere and started asking me for money as well. As they sat there begging, with suckers in their mouths, it supported my hypothesis. I never gave the other boy money because I assumed he would likely spend it on candy and chips. I took the opportunity to ask the kids if they were going to brush their teeth after they ate their suckers. They said yes, which I take as a good sign. At least they know the should brush their teeth. Whether they do is another story. I ended up chatting with the kids for about half an hour. Most of them ran to another part of the park but one girl stayed a few more minutes. I was most intrigued by her. She was wearing a jacket with a clear pocket on the front. I bet you can't guess what was in the pouch... yep, money. I could see Lempiras in her pouch and a sucker in her mouth as she begged for more money. I ventured to ask her what she wanted to buy. "Pan" she told me, bread. "You had money, but you bought a sucker." "I want pan. Dime pisto." "You have money. And you had money but you spent it on a sucker." She didn't deny it. Maybe I will come up with a way that they can earn food or sandals for their bare feet but I refuse to give them money for junk food and to contribute to the deterioration of their teeth. Dental bills are a lot more expensive than bread.

Todays was a very exciting day. Yes, I am as easily amussed as always. I went to the colegio to help a few girls with their English. Year end exams are next week. The lack of effective teaching methods was quite apparent in their questions. In schools here, kids are told things, and they memorize and regurgitate it. They know that sometimes, when you add "ing" to the end of words in English, you either leave off a letter or add an extra one. They have no idea when, or why. They didn't even know the meaning of the "ing" ending (which translates almost directly to the "ando/iendo" ending in Spanish. I felt so bad for them trying to memorize each word and whether they had to drop the "e" or add an extra consonant. I tried to explain the rules but it's difficult for me to explain clearly in Spanish and for them to understand. Especially when it is related to pronunciation which they learn very little of. They learn to write English fairly well (eventually) but most of the teachers can barely pronounce most of the words. I worry that I am putting myself in a position in which I don't want to be by teaching English so much this early in my service. Granted, with the school year ending, I can't start much else but I really don't want to teach English for the next 2 years. There are so many other issues that are more important and I feel I could use my time more wisely on other subjects. I don't think I'm even very good at teaching English. There is definitely a reason I have never aspired to be a teacher. I kind of suck at it. hahaha!

Helping the girls was interesting and I enjoy that group of girls, but what I was really excited about today was completely selfish. I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies! All the cookies here are hard and the chocolate generally sucks. I had to go to Tegus to buy brown sugar and chocolate chips. My family seemed to like them and even though they weren't the best cookies I have made in my life, they did the trick and of course I ate more dough than I should have. I think Emily and Kyler (check out their blog http://emilyandkyler.blogspot.com/ I haven't actually had a chance to read it but I know some of the stuff that is in there and it's pretty funny. Yes, the thing about the dogs is true.) will be excited for cookies that aren't hard. (If you happen to read this before I get there, sorry I spoiled the surprise!)

After several tries (still having trouble the network keeps failing my uploads), here are a few pics of my baseball team in Rio Dulce.

Love and miss you all! If you want to see other blogs from PC Honduras, here's the link http://www.peacecorpsjournals.com/ho.html

Sorry guys, not that much interesting has happened this week. There are only a few weeks left of school before vacation so for now I continue to teach English and play soccer and baseball with the kids. Every town has an annual feria to honor a patron saint. Mine is the first week of November so street food vendors and circus games are popping up around the central park. Each night there are "futbolito" games int he park. Four on four (always guys of course) playing with a miniture ball on a cement cancha about the size or a basketball court. Unfortunately, I have only seen half of one game because they don't start until 7 or 8 and there is a slightly sketchy area in the 3 block walk between my house and the park. Essentially, it's safe to be at the park at night, and it's safe to be at my house, but it isn't as safe to travel between the two. I could go if I had an escort but so far, no luck with that. My family is really nice, very Catholic and very concerned about my safety. So for now, I don't leave the house after dinner. That is probably my biggest challenge right now, I miss having a social life.

I know I mentioned hair scrunchies last time, but this week, I have not been able to get over the presence of the 80's. Anyone who said the 80's are dead was wrong. They just moved to Central America. It's amazing. Not only hair scrunchies and banana clips but spandex, Michael Jackson and more. They LOVE 80's music. I think I saw 3 or 4 different ads during one TV show for 80's compilation CDs. I'm telling you, the 80's are alive and kicking.

Of course I am getting plenty of new cultural experiences both in town and in my house. This past week celebrated a saint (forgive me, I don't remember which saint). The living room in my host family's house was transformed into more of a shrine of articial flowers and the sofas were replaced by stacks of plastic chairs. I didn't fully realize the significance of all of this until I came home to about 15 woman praying in the living room. I think my house is sort of a worship center this week and judging by the materials my family has for this occasion, I think it is a yearly occurence (possibly more frequently but I haven't asked for details yet). Part of me wants to stay and watch but I don't feel comfortable intruding on their prayer time. I did go to church with my host mother and brother last Sunday and that was an interesting experience. It was a nice ceremony but I definitely felt like an observer and an outsider. Since they recite the prayers, repsonses and songs from memory, it was a little difficult to participate. I recognized a few of the tunes but when it came to joining, I was clueless. I don't know the lyrics to hymns in SPANISH! I'm sure if I go frequently enough, I will learn, but that will take time.

This turned out to be sort of a strange entry but so are my days. I'm chugging along trying to meet people and get to know my community. Next week I get to collaborate for a baseball camp in Ocotepeque. That means I get to visit friends. Yea!! Love and miss you all!

tried to upload pics but after 4 tries, I gave up. Sorry, next time.

Let them in!

What´s more important, hair... or education. Yeah, I was thinking education, but apparently not everyone agrees. Last week, I watched a few boys get locked out of school because their hair was too long. I´m not sure exactly what the rule is but I´m not sure the hair on these guys was even touching their collar. True, they know the rules and should have known to cut their hair before it got too long, but HONESTLY! It is enough of a struggle to keep kids in school past (or even until) 6th grade, is keeping them out really the best solution? It is a widely known fact that the education system in Honduras is struggling. Anything we can do to get these kids a little education (especially once they make it to high shcool) should be a priority. In the US, we have laws to force kids to go to school, that is definitely not the case here. Sadly, those boys probably only missed out on a chance to socialize from 7:30 to noon. It´s hard to watch kids do nothing while at school. In most of the schools I have seen, the kids don´t really do anything after about 11. I mean, they hang out in the school yard, play soccer, and chat. It´s basically recess from 11ish to when they go home. I take a school bus to the colegio. Supposedly, classes end at 12:30, the bus leaves at 12 (with +75% of the kids). It´s a difficult problem to solve from the bottom up. This one needs to come from the top down. Hondurans seem very aware that the education system is less than adequate but it´s such a systematic, structural problem that it´s going to take awhile to fix. Luckily, there are several groups, organizations and individuals trying to improve Honduran education little by little. That was my rant for the week.

I spend my mornings at either the colegio or escuelas getting to know the schools, education system, kids and communities. Here are a few of my kids. You want to know how bad (or good) you are with names? Go to a foreign country and try to learn the names of several hundred kids you only see once a week. I think I remember about 2 so far. Or I rememberthe names, and the faces, but not together.

When I first visited Talanga, the first question I received was "Are there pigs in the streets? Our host mom said there are pigs in the streets." Yes, there are pigs in the streets so Kyler, this pic is for you.

But no, I don´t get a donkey. I know, I´m pissed too! I don´t get a donkey, a horse OR a bike! I´m actually quite disappointed about it. My town is too big for Peace Corps to give me a horse or mule and we aren´t allowed to ride bikes on "main roads". Since the road between town and my schools is considered a main road, I can´t justify needed a bike for work. LAME huge town with resources! At least I have wheat bread!

Things I love right now: hair scrunchies (yes, they are everywhere), the same songs I have been hearing since I arrived, and the fat dog I saw shaped like a pig (98% of the dogs here look like they are about to die from starvation).

Where in the US will strangers join you on a run while everyone else thinks you are INSANE because you like to exercise?

Sorry, no pictures this time because the computer won´t read my camera. That´s just the way things go, you take what you can and try not to worry about the rest. I will try to continue posting pictures when possible.
The big news this week: I have friends. Don´t judge me since they are all between about 6 and 12 years old, like I said, I´ll take what I can get. The good thing about working in the schools as a foreigner, kids flock to you just to hold your hand and listen to you talk, probably because it sounds funny.
I took a leap of faith and went for a run by myself for first time in three months. Don´t worry Mom, I checked with my host family about where to go and if it was safe. As it turns out, the safest place to go is up the side of a mountain to ¨Cerito¨, a lookout over the entire valley. I was a little nervouse since I didn´t know the road above my house and we are hounded constantly about safety and security. My solo run lasted about 5 minutes. As I reached the top of the first hill, a boy of about 10 started running after me. Not in a threatening way, but chasing me as a puppy chases it´s owner on a bicycle, with a big grin. I offered for him to come and by the time I reached the next house (about minute later) three girls ran from their yard to join. The youngest, Stefany Michella, looks like a Honduran version of Stephanie Tanner (yes, I mean the little girl on Full House) when she was about 6 and missing her front teeth. The older two girls are probably 8 or 9, and only the boy wore shoes. I was a little embarrassed at how easily these kids kept up as we climbed the hills and they led me exactly where I wanted to go, to a beautiful view of the city just before dusk. As we scrambled over boulders, through mud and horse manure, down loose rock, I cautioned them, "Cuidado." I realized instantly that I was the one who needed to be careful. While I skidded down parts of the hills and nearly fell a time or two, the barefoot kids nimbly navigated the loose rock. When I ran the same route a few days later, 3 of the 4 kids joined me again, and again, kept up quite well. Although I still miss running by myself, it´s comforting to have people there with me. Kids are great running partners, they don´t expect you to talk to them, they will keep going as long as you continue to run and they always want to know when we can go again.

I am definitely learning to appreciate the little things. A side from making friends with elementary school kids, I love finding good English shows on TV. I watched about 3 episodes of Da Ali G Show yesterday and was Exstatic to catch the end of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, in English. Finding whole wheat bread and skim milk made my day. What can I say, some days are rough, but I´m learning how to truly appreciate what I can.

Mostly Photos

One of my favorite things about this country, are all the people who wear T-shirts you know they don´t understand. Like this guy. ¨Deez Nuts¨ eh? The back had a picture of Mr. Peanut. If this isn´t a college intramural sports shirt... By the way, this was the guy taking money on the bus from Cantarranas to Valle/Tegus. He´s a big guy and usually wears a yellow shirt. Sometimes, we were lucky enough to catch him wearing this one. Luckily I had my camera the first time and thank you Kyler for your excellent photography skills. Sometimes you feel torn between relief that they probably aren´t trashy enough to wear that shirt on purpose, but sadness that they are willing to wear something when they are clueless to the meaning. Like the older couple walking down the street, the woman wearing a shirt stating "I´m the bitch your husband is sleeping with". In that case, it was in a PCV´s site and he decided to fill the woman in. They were pretty embarrassed. Although that´s rough, enough people do understand English to catch on. Sad, but funny.

This is Adalberto, our driver for FBT (field based training). He was great. Greated everyone with a quick "hola joven", "hello youngster" despite the fact that he just turned 25 and is younger than many of the people he greets. We all started adopting his superfast way of talking. Made those last few weeks of training much easier to deal with.

It is hard to get pictures of Tegucigalpa because it is highly discouraged to bring valuables unless necessary and we definitely are not encouraged to show cameras, phones, etc. in public. Several of the new PCVs took a little time to hang out in Tegus befor heading to our sites. The read building is a pulperia (sort of like a convenient store) . The picture below is a view of Tegus from the roof of a hotel. To me, these pictures are a small snapshot of Honduras, very diverse, but all sort of the same. A strange intersection of 3rd world living trying to cross over into 1st world technology. The one thing you don`t really see in the pictures is the garbage. To me, one of the absolute most frustrating things about this country is the garbage, EVERYWHERE. You see people toss trash out bus windows, drop it on the ground then walk over it. They think nothing of it. I have ventured to tell a few people here that I dislike the garbage. They all agree but apparently it doesn`t bother them that much because no one seems to do much about it. Even when they have to pick it up themselves, they still litter like the world is a trash can. Each morning, when the kids arrive at school, they help clean. The pick up the garbage they tossed on the ground the day before. They sweep and mop the floors. 5 minutes later, I watch a girl finish eating a sucker and toss her stick on the floor of her own classroom. I just don´t understand. I am trying to lead by example, and ask the kids to use the basura when I catch them, but it´s a big job. A few towns are making a small effort by putting garbage cans around town but the effort is futile in some places where there is not garbage pick up. Luckily my town does have garbage pick up, although I have no idea where it goes. In many towns, you either have to burn your garbage, compost what you can and often, people just drive it to another place and dump it on the side of the road.

I have officially lived in Talanga for one week. The green and yellow house is where I live with my host family. In perspective, it´s a very nice house although last night I discovered that I have a cockroach issue in my room. I had seen one until last night when I killed 5, then another this morning.

My room is separate from the house, just behind it. Yes, that is a picture of a chicken in the doorway of my bedroom. I was actually in my room when I took the photo, and yes, it is a regular occurance. I think we have 4 or 5 chickens and a rooster. Yes, I wake to the rooster every morning. Sometimes, a nice alarm a few minutes before mine goes off. Other days, it is an unwelcomed 3:00 am disturbance. Such is life.

This road was just resurfaced this week. Yes, this is an after picture. The daily heavy rains create deep ditches through the roadways. Since this is the rainy season, I`m guessing the trenches will be back before long. It`s an odd change, as much as I hated the rain in Tacoma, I hope for it here. I anxiously await the downpour that brings slightly cooler weather and many of the mosquitos hide. Mosquitos, mosquitos, mosquitos. Without a doubt, the most miserable aspect of Talanga, and probably Honduras in general, at least for me. Luckily, Talanga does not currently have a Malaria or Dengue problem although it is likely just a matter of time before we do. Dengue exists in many of the surrounding areas and in Tegus. Since a large number of people travel to Tegus to work each day, Dengue usually transfers through them. The damn mosquitos bite them in Tegus, then a mosquito here bites them, then another person, and BAM! we have dengue. Hopefully, that isn´t the case. It helps when people clean their pilas too, but that´s another story. I will get a picture of a pila up there soon.

Here is another road near my house, and yes, that is a huge drop-off in the middle of the road. What´s the difference between a huge ledge and a huge pothole? Either way, every car has to take the same path.

Above is the main street in my town by Parque Central. No, the yellow bus is not going to the school, but to Tegus. sometimes, the buses even have curtains, it´s great. hahaha!

I have also included a few pictures of the prettier aspects of my town, Parque central. The blue building is the Alcladia (mayor´s office) where I work (for now, in the afternoons). The yellowish building is the Catholic church in the main square. The last one is the always locked playground for kids under age 8. Obviously, there is a reason it´s locked, all the toys are looking a little sketchy. Yes, that is a swing set in the forground, a tire swing with one side resting on the turf in the background and what I believe was at one time a merry-go-round.

US soil

Yesterday, I got to visit the US, well, US soil at least. We went to the US embassy yesterday for Swear-in. Yes, I am now officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. Ridiculous that I have been here for nearly 3 months and it is just now official. The swearing in ceremony felt a little like high school graduation but ended up being rather anti-climatic. We were fed, met the embassador and spent some time swimming, playing volleyball, tennis and basketball at his house, then headed back to say pack and goodbye to our Santa Lucia families.

I am in a strange reality here. During the ceremony yesterday, I watched a camera guy scroll through his ipod in his Chuck Taylors and fro-ed hair held back by his sunglasses. I wanted to take a photo but didn't have the opportunity. He could have been sitting on cement steps in Seattle, chilling, listening to mp3s, instead of in the emabassy in Honduras. Sometimes, this place doesn't feel much different from life in the states, very modern. "Normal." Other times it feels like a strange combo of the 1800's and 1945, a whole other world. When I see a campesino with his oxen hauling the day's work, or a mother cutting the lawn with a machete, a 4 kids on an old bicycle (yes, 4 boys on 1 bike), it just doesn't feel the same. I am living in a strange reality where everyone has a cell phone but they mow the soccer field by hand (occasionally). Technology exists here but they seem to have picked and chosen which amenities the use. You can buy an microwave and a blender but cook food over a fire. I still don't get it but I'm learning...
much love to all

I have a home!

I suppose I should apologize for a few things. First, I know it's been awhile. I even told some of you that I was going to update this a few days ago. I tried, but I couldn't log on. Reliable is not a word I would use to describe the internet here. Secondly, I am sorry (partially in advance) for spelling errors. Switching back to English is still pretty easy, especially since (until Friday) I get to speak it fairly regularly. My spelling on the other hand, suffers from the language change.

The news: I have a home! I will be living in Talanga, Fransisco Morazán, Honduras. It is about 2 hours (I think) by bus northeast of Tegus, the capital. It's a big town as far as Peace Corps sites go. Size is very relative. When the biggest city in the country only has about 1 million people and average is probably closer to 5,000, my town of 15,000-20,000 people is huge! I just returned from visiting my site and meeting my host family and counterparts. Yes, I have ANOTHER host family, this will be number three, but hopefully the last. My counterparts are the people I will be working most closely with. They vary by site and project. My main contacts are a colegio (sort of like a high school but usually more like 7th grade on), two escuelas (elementary schools) and the Community Development department of the Alcaldia (the mayors office). I will also be helping one of the teachers coach a baseball team. I think the kids are 8-12 years old or so. As for specific projects, that remains to be seen and develop as I get to know the community.
Talanga: Since the town is fairly large, I should have access to most amenities. Yes, there is interent (I can even use it for free in the alcaldia). There is a decent size market, soccer field, and plenty of buses to Tegus and other surrounding towns. To be honest, the town itself is pretty ugly and the roads are horendous. All dirt (mud at this time of year), filled with potholes which would be better described as canals and narrow like all the roads in the country. Although surrounded by mountains, the main part of town is in a valley so it is fairly flat and some of the aldeas (surrounding communities that fall under the jurisdiction of Talanga) are subject to regular flooding. I actually got to witness this during my visit as torrential rains fell every day I was there. The aldea populations are generally poorer than their more urban counterparts and it is humbling to see how they deal with and accept these regular disturbances in their lives.
Speaking of humbling... on September 15, Honduras' Independence day, there was a small earthquake. If I remember correctly, it was about a 3.5. When I arrived in Talanga on Thursday, the town was in the middle of a marathon to collect clothing and food donations. I spent my first afternoon sorting the clothes for men, women, and children. It was really nice to have something to actually do after following one of my counterparts around like a puppy all day. Friday, we drove 2 hours north to deliver the donations. We took 2 dump-truck size loads and several pick-ups. A few of the pick-ups started empty but as we journied north, people were waiting on the sides of the roads with more to give. We picked up more clothes and more people. By the time we arrived, all the trucks were full. It was incredible to see so may people, many of whom by our standards have little themselves, helping another community. We drove through Porvenir to Marale. The town of Marale was not greatly affected but the people who live in the surrounding mountains. Farmers, pregnant mothers with their hands already full of children, more chidren, all helping each other. As we handed out clothes in the Catholic church, perched on a hill in Marale, I saw some of the most beautiful people I have seen in my life. The youngs girls looked so innocent and naive. Their eyes almos seemed transparent, like someone you read about in a descriptive novel, not something you actually see in real life. There is one man I hope I never forget. I first saw him squeezing through the crowd, away from the mayor´s wife with the first bag of clothes. He ducked and weaved through children and mothers, trying to get to his macheti. He reached his macheti by the door, did the same weaving and ducking under children´s arms to get back to the bag of clothes so he could cut the string holding it closed. After the bag was opened, he helped others, not waiting to recieve anything for himself. It was so selfless, from someone who has so little.

Thursday, we go to the US Embassy in Tegucigalpa to be sworn in and become official "volunteers". Friday, I move to Talanga "permanently". I am excited for training to be over and to settle into a community, to stop feeling like a guest. I am rather distraught with the end of training at the same time. I have made a few good friends over the last 2 1/2 months and I am very sad to separate from them. Most of my good friends here will be living on the west side of the country. I know it isn´t that big of a country, but it´s a good 10-12 hours from Tegus to their sites because the roads are so bad and the routes so indirect. Mountains might have a little something to do with that.

I promise I will post pictures soon. It just takes so long and most of the time they don´t upload at the cafe´s. I will do it from my site though. Until next time, I love and miss you!

Rachael and Matt, congrats on the wedding! Wish I could have been there.