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