Welcome to the Amazon...

Where you are always wet, whether it's rain or sweat.
While that isn't the official slogan of the Amazon and the region, it should be. After 2 weeks of city between Bogota and Medellin, it was wonderful to find ourselves in small towns again. Although we met some very entertaining and engaging people, I was ready for a break. The cities were fun but I felt like new born in a new place... over-stimulated. There is just so much going on, so much to see and so many people! I guess it was probably good since I will, at some point, after transition back to life in the US.
We flew from Medellin to Leticia, Colombia. Leticia is a small isolated town on the Amazon river at the Brazil and Peru borders. I heard a rumor that buses to Leticia exist, but for all practical purposes, you cannot get there by land. Much of the land between central Colombia and Leticia is FARC territory but the Amazon, tres fronteras region is safe and outside FARC land. Leticia is a small and buzzing with motorcycles and a few cars. We only spent one night in Leticia before heading 2 hours up the Amazon with some new made friends, an English girl and a Colombian father-son. We initially planned on one night in Puerto Nariño but liked it so much we spent the next night there as well. We easily could have stayed more but had to move on. Puerto Nariño is the town of two vehicles. Literally, they have 2 motor vehicles: an ambulance and the garbage tractor that passes daily collecting trash, organic waste as well as plastics and glass. Yes, they are a model sustainable community with recycling and a ban on motor vehicles. After 15 years they will reassess whether to maintain the ban. I hope the do. The town is not big and it is so peaceful with birds everywhere and bordering a national park. We took a ride in a peque peque, a little canoe with a tiny motor up river, through two lakes to see a giant fish, Pirarucu (probably twice my size) which had been harpooned and landed in a boat smaller than ours, and to see the grey and pink dolphins. The pink dolphins weren't as pink as I expected but still fun to watch surface to breathe around the lake and near our boat. We also took several walks to nearby villages and sweat out every ounce of water we drank. We happened to be in town for the 8th Indigenous Olympics of Puerto Nariño. We walked about an hour in the heat to the village of San Francisco hoping to see archery and other traditional games. We were disappointed to find out those games weren't until the next day but did get to watch local fútbol and girls' basketball. We took a peque peque back as the sky opened and DUMPED rain on us, completely exposed. We couldn't stop laughing as the rain chilled us and the boat man started bailing.
The next day, we stopped at Isla de los Micos, Monkey Island where a little local man snuck bananas onto our heads and little monkeys leaped for the food, and devoured the fruit from our heads. At one point, I think there were 20-30 monkeys (according to Rachel 110) climbing on our shoulders, head, arms, chest, on top of each other, anywhere they could find. Again, we found ourselves laughing hysterically. I cried I was laughing so hard. After the monkeys, the rest of our temporary adopted family headed back to Pto Nariño and Rachel and I headed back to Letcia. We crossed into Brazil to buy our boat tickets ran all over getting immigration sorted out and finally ended up in Santa Rosa, Peru, a little island in the middle of the Amazon, about 10 minutes from Leticia. We took the fast boat (10 hours) from Santa Rosa at 4am this morning to Iquitos, the biggest city in the world, not accessible by road. 450,000 people in a city you can only enter and leave by boat or plane. Crazy. Loving Peru so far, everyone wants to give you a taxi ride in 3 wheeled motor carts and everything is CHEAP! I'll get pictures soon...

Colombia

it's too amazing to spend time writing about. Beautiful beaches, national parks, mountains, beautiful cities which i can't afford. I want to live in Bogota. It has a little of everything. Cartagena is too beautiful, I felt like a scrub walking around in the nicest clothes I own. Granted, those close aren't very nice but still.
The downside of Bogota, it's the coldest place I have been in 2.5 years.
Marta visited for 2 weeks. It was great to have her here and travel a bit with her. Our group increased to for the first part of Colombia. Now we are just two. It is just Rachel and I. We keep turning around to find the rest and realize they are home eating American food and spending time with family and friends.

Oh, by the way, the 106 year old pirate ship, Stahlratte, from San Blas, Panama to Cartagena, Colombia was and amazing 3 days. Captianed by a crazy German and full of motorcycles, we spent two days anchored between to uninhabited islands, snorkeled, ate amazing food (including a fresh lobster feast) and swam in beautiful, clear blue ocean. Alice and I took to the crow's nest as we neared Cartagena and waved to local men fishing from dug-out canoes as we entered the beautiful bay. Other than losing everything of value, this life is a complete dream and often feels just as surreal and impossible. Still no camera so still no photos. Sorry! : )

Otro Nivel

I LOVE PANAMÁ!
We spent Halloween in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica then, even after a late night, caught a morning bus to the border and arrived in Bocas del Toro, Panamá by mid afternoon. We originally planned a few days in Bocas but loved it so much we stayed an entire week. Bocas is touristy but somehow retains a small town, local feel. It has the resources of a tourist trap but unlike many other places we have been, there are still locals! Biggest downside, you have to take a water taxi or bus to the beach and the chitres (sand flies) are horrible. We happened to arrive in Bocas at the beginning of a series of Panamanian Holidays. Nov 1 through 4 are all holidays (including Independence day) so there were many Panamanians on vacation from the city as well as other foreign tourists who happened to pass through. Our last full day in Bocas was definitely in the top 5 days ever. I am not sure how to explain it but is just turned out as a great day. We met a girl (who grew up on Mercer Island) who met some guys from Panama city, one of which is the lawyer of an American hostel and real estate owner. We were invited (meaning we didn't have to pay) to go on Chester's boat to an empty island with a beautiful beach. We left the island Zapatilla to the big island of Bastimientos where Chester has a small, beautiful wood hut built on a dock over the water. All the furniture was hand carved wood made by a local man and surprisingly comfortable. We wandered the waters between each island buying fresh lobsters from the locals as they free dove for them. The lobster varied in size but averaged about $2 each. Of course, we had delicious garlic lobster with coconut curry rice cooked by Chester and an amazing salad made us. We then headed to Barco Hundido Bar (Sunken Ship) and danced the night away. The weather was perfect and sunny all day and the company was good. As we trolled back to the town of Bocas for dinner we entertained ourselves and Panamanians by learning local slang. The day and Bocas fue a otro nivel.

The following day, we took a night bus to Panama City and arrived at the hostel at 4:30am. Reception opens at 8 but the night guard let us sleep on the couches in the movie theater until we could check in. We wandered Casco Viejo, checked out some artisans and the presidential palace. We plan to see the canal and Old Panama before heading to San Blas on the Caribbean coast Wed morning to catch the boat to Colombia.

I still don't have a camera but my Ipod has been recovered! I just have to find out how to get it from Mal País, CR to me. Hmmm...
If you would like to check out pictures, Rachel has been posting the highlights on facebook. I think she is the only Rachel Papernick and they should be available to everyone with a Facebook account. Otherwise, I will try to get a few from the girls posted.

Elimination

My most prized material possession for the last 2 years is no longer with me. We thoroughly enjoyed a few days in Mal País/ Sta Teresa, Costa Rica on the Pacific coast. The stop was quick but nice and we met some interesting people. Unfortunately, my ipod grew arms, disconnected itself from the charger then grew legs and walked away. We have no idea how it disappeared and NOTHING else in our room was touched. Alice's ipod was even in plain site and mine was under my exploded luggage on the floor, further from the door. The following day's 12 hours of travel to the Caribbean coast was a bit brutal. No book, no music and hours and hours of bus... I guess now I have one less thing to carry, one less thing I can lose.

Yesterday we arrived in Puerto Viejo de Talamanca. All of Costa Rica is beautiful and the Costa Ricans are really kind. My biggest complaint about them is that sometimes they try to be too helpful.

We met a local dive instructor on the bus to Puerto Viejo. Through him, we found an opportunity to help out with a regional disaster. A hurricane in Florida (I think in '92) destroyed an aquarium containing 3 Lion Fish. Lion Fish are not native the to Caribbean are very poisonous and have no predators. The 3 little fish multiplied and multiplied and multiplied. They are now threatening many species and essentially the entire ecosystem of the Caribbean. Lion Fish eggs float on the surface so they can travel and spread over long distances very quickly. Groupers have been eating the Lion Fish but their poisonous spines kill the groupers. It's a disaster in the making. We spent the first half the day snorkeling the reef off the beach of Puerto Viejo looking for Lion Fish. Unfortunately, Alice, Rachel and I were unsuccessful at finding them but the guys working for the project trying to protect native species caught 7, 6 juveniles and a small adult. It was fun to get out and volunteer a little time to help out, even if we weren't so helpful.

Next we are getting ready for Halloween and trying to make of the most of the few days we have here. Ciao

Nicaragua was incredible. After Managua and Granada, we headed to the island on the lake, Ometepe. We climbed volcano Maderas expecting to see a crater lake. Instead, we tree climbed to the most anticlimactic summit I have ever experienced. It was freezing cold and so cloudy we could see about 10 meters into the crater. We heard later that the "lake" was rather unimpressive and others also found the hike disappointing. We have had some wonderful local guides but this was was sub par. He just didn't do much "guiding". Rachel sprained her ankle toward the bottom, in a hurry to end the hike. We did see white faced monkeys, definitely the highlight of that day. Although Ometepe's twin volcanoes are beautiful and the island tranquilo, I heard great things and my expectations weren't met. We left the island a day ahead of schedule and spent an extra on the beach in San Juan del Sur. I took a few goes at surfing on borrowed boards but since Rachel and Alice have never surfed and Rachel had a busted ankle and couldn't take a lesson, Alice decided to wait to learn until they can do it together. Costa Rica and Panama should provide opportunities. Instead, we spent an entire week on the beach. We had a few rainstorms but overall the weather was decent. Just cloudy enough to keep us from burning.
Yesterday, we arrived in Costa Rica. My first impression, Little America. Driving (we got a ride from a new friend) through winding mountain roads (paved but with potholes), a cloudy haze meeting the lush vegetation, I felt like I was back in the USA. That probably sounds weird but after a day here and wandering through the small volcano town of La Fortuna, I still feel like I am in Little America. Maybe I have just been in Honduras too long. Prices are significantly higher here than any of the other countries we have been to. We are struggling with the complicated conversion rate (575 colones to $1) and much higher prices. We knew Costa Rica was expensive but dishing out the cash is still hard when we are so accustomed to Honduran and Nicaraguan economies.
Off to a thermal river then the Pacific coast for more beach and surfing. It's a rough life...

officially unemployed and homeless

Now that I am in transit you probably want to hear what I am doing... at the same time, I am highly unmotivated to spend much time in front of a computer when I could be hanging out on the beach or wandering around a new city. That said, updates will likely be few and far between, and without pictures (I'll get to that). Lo siento...

I finished my PC service amidst national curfews and demonstrations in the capital. We are supposed to spend the last week of service in and out of the office finishing reports, getting signatures and completing medical appointments. As we entered Tegus Monday afternoon, an announcement came on the radio: national curfew starting at 4:00pm due to the surprise return of the ousted president, Mel Zelaya. Announcing a 4pm curfew at 3:30 caused traffic to stop dead. What a way to start the last week...

The curfews resulted in PC cancelling our medical appointments and giving us vouchers to get physicals and parasite tests when we return to the States. That's great... IF you are going back! Since we only have 60 days to do the appointments, I'll be stopping at the doctor's office in Panama. Booo! The week was frustrating as we spent 42 straight ours held up in our not so luxurious hotel. A 24 hour curfew means no restaurants or grocery stores opened. The embassy was generous enough to donate military MREs for us (meals ready-to-eat, what soldiers eat in the field.) We planned to enjoy our time and each other's company as we don't know when we will see each other again. The final week of service is usually full of fun, socializing, taking advantage of your favorite Tegus restaurants, and other volunteers passing through for goodbyes. needless to say, we searched for ways to enjoy ourselves in the Hotel Guadalupe II for the ENTIRE week. But we survived the demonstrations, the tear gas and each other.

As official RPCVs, about 5 of us headed to the Bay Island (off the north coast of Honduras) of Utila. Possibly my favorite place on Earth. We spent an entire week diving, hanging out in the ocean and getting too much sun. I wasn't ready to leave. Unfortunately, among all this fun, I left my camera out and it became the first casualty of the trip. The camera was old and can be replaced. What upsets me is all the photos I lost from the last several weeks.

If Traci hadn't flown in, I may still be in Utila. It was a good thing she got us moving. With her, Alice, Rachel and I visited Copan Ruins and headed for Guatemala. Antigua, Volcano Pacaya (hot lava glows, roasts your marshmallows and melts your shoes), Chichicastanengo market, Guatemala City (where Alice took the GRE!), Coban, Lanquin and the beautiful natural pools, caves and underground river of Semuc Champey then back to Guate, through El Salvador and on to Managua, Nicaragua. Since I took a detour to pick up a suitcase in Tegus between San Salvador and Managua, I just spent the last 4 nights in 4 different countries. I'm ready to slow down a bit and look forward to spending a few days in Granada. Traci left this morning to return to those crazy things like a job, husband and my dog. It was great having her company and showing her around this part of the world. It's back to just Alice, Rachel and I living it up unemployed and homeless... : )

more friends in the shower

last night I found a tarantula in my shower. A mediocre photo to come. I think the snake living my my backyard is the only thing I haven't found there yet. At least this time Bug was there to share the experience. Tarantulas are just so creepy...

Is this the end?

Is this really how I am finishing my service? That last seven days have been the strangest combination of bad luck. Am I bringing it on myself?

It started last Friday with the iguana in my shower. Saturday was the robbery. Sunday, I realized around 2:00pm that the presentation papers for my HIV talk were at the collegio in an aldea. I needed to bring them with me that evening when I headed to Alice’s site to give the talk with her the next day. I re-made all of them in a slight panic. Monday, Alice and I gave the HIV talk to 9th graders and I can’t think of anything especially weird. Tuesday I shed my first few goodbye tears as one of my third grade classes said their goodbyes. Their mothers (and one father) sat in their children’s classroom as a few of the students passed on all they learned about dental health this year. I did a short presentation to reiterate the importance of tooth brushing and caring for baby teeth. Then, as the students were served a goodbye lunch in my honor, each one passed in front of the class and said what they wished to me. One boy gave me fake flowers. Another brought me corn on the cob. They all had sweet words. They begged me not to go, told me they love me and thanked me for all I taught them. A few just gave me a hug but no words came. As all 46 of them took their turn, my cheeks began to hurt from smiling so long. It is hard to respond to 8 and 9 year olds telling you they love you and begging you not to leave. “I have to go, my family misses me.” was all I could really say. I guess the weird thing that day was standing around during recess and realizing the teachers were discussing the reason we have pubic hair (to divert sweat). One of many conversations I passively listened to, curious about my teachers’ thoughts. In the afternoon I got my phone back and once again could communicate.
Wednesday started pretty well, I observed some of my teachers in their classrooms, a friend stopped by my house for lunch. A little before bedtime, I tried to climb into my hammock with my book, a bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine. I also had my cell phone to try calling Traci back. Somehow, as I crawled into the hammock my cell phone slipped out of my hand directly into my wine glass. Busted. I am incomunicada for the second time in less than a week! I was connected to the world for an entire day! That was unfortunate. Luckily, I think I have a cell phone I can borrow for my remaining 3 weeks, starting tomorrow. Hopefully I don’t break, lose or have this one stolen.
Today I lost the dog. He was running beside me from one of my aldea schools and all the way through town. I stopped to have my tires filled and see if my cell phone could be repaired. I thought he would noticed I stopped and wait for me as he usually stays within a few feet of me. With air in my tires I looked around and didn’t see Bello. I assumed he continued on and would be waiting for me at the front door. When I arrived home he wasn’t there. I headed back down the street and asked a few shop owners if they had seen my dog (he’s well known here). Nothing, no one saw him. I made a few loops, calling his name. I was worried someone stole him (I have been warned countless times that he will be stolen asked to gift him to everyone and their cousin.) I needed to get to the school so I headed home again. Sure enough, there he was. I have no idea where he had been but at least he made it home. A few hours later, as I left my house to visit various people and straighten out plans for the next few days (no phone, must visit) I encountered a school bus. As I passed the bus a young child stepped off and was greeted by her mother. I walked past the bus and headed past the church. Suddenly, something bumped me from behind. I WAS HIT BY A SCHOOL BUS! REALLY? It barely bumped me but still… I was startled and ran a few steps to keep from being killed! I don’t think the driver ever noticed; and this guy drives kids around?! Who gets hit by a school bus? I guess the same girl who gets shot in the head with a BB gun and goes through phones faster than I update my blog.

It has been seven days. I really hope this was just one strange week and the those to come are less eventful.

Stick 'em up

Really?... I knew I should not have written it but I did. My close of service survey, my greatest accomplishment (or biggest surprise or something) I answered as “not having a major security incident, at least not yet.” Being pick-pocketed didn’t count. Considering how much time I have spent in Tegus, how often I walked around the capital, traveled with luggage, at odd hours, hitch-hiked etc, I have taken unnecessary risks and been lucky so far. This time, I did everything right. I took the small direct bus, got on at the “station” in Tegus and waited on the bus until it left. Why do people have to be punks?!

6:28 pm, Saturday August 29: bus pulls out of Tegus
About 20 minutes outside of Tegucigalpa, a young guy says he wants to get off at the next “stop”. The ayudante (money collector) rolled his eyes and they pulled over to let him crawl all the way from the back seat. As soon as the kid stepped off the bus, he got back on and had a pistol in his hand. The ayudantes closed the door and the driver continued. I did not hear what the youth said to them. Bug (another PCV who lives near by and was traveling with me) noticed the gun too. The kid pointed the gun at the two ayudantes as they handed over all the money they had just collected and the earnings from earlier that day. The kid also robbed the driver and told him to keep driving. The ayudantes were checked again, lifting their shirts, turning their pockets inside-out, taking off their shoes. This kid looked about 18 years old as did his accomplice. The other guy started in the back asking for cell phones and money from every passenger. The first guy camped out in the front and started collecting from the passengers near him. The entire mini-bus (probably about 35-40 people) sat with our hands on our heads for about 15 minutes. When the accomplice from the back arrived at our row (near the door) he waved his gun toward Bug and I and asked for “celulares y dinero.” I had sat on my Peace Corps issued phone but the second he asked I handed it to him along with about 400 lempiras that were in my front pocket. I turned my pockets out to show that nothing else of value was in them. Luckily, they did not ask for more and we both got away with the majority of the money we had just gotten out of the ATM, our debit cards, groceries and overnight bags. I had kicked my backpack under the seat in front of me at the start of the robbery. If they had asked, I would have handed it over. I am glad they never asked.

After robbing everyone on the bus, the first guy told the driver to make a U-turn to drop he and his buddy off at a pre-arranged spot on the highway were get-away vehicles were waiting. As we returned to their drop-off point, the second guy glanced at me, and asked for my earrings. Really?! They are sterling, really, not worth much and everyone here where gold anyway! I gave up all 5 of my small sliver hoops. Anything to keep them from getting nervous and pulling the trigger. Finally the two assailants got off the busito and we again started heading toward Valle de Angeles to visit other Peace Corps friends. While the majority of the passengers started yelling at the driver and ayudantes for not stopping at the police station on the highway and letting the guys on the bus in the first place, Bug and I began to laugh it off. The passengers were upset because one woman apparently warned the ayudantes they were thieves and why did they let them on the bus? (Yet she still got on the bus after them.) The driver responded honestly, “I had a gun to my head, what did you want me to do?!”

Suddenly, a woman yelled that we were being followed and it was the motorcycle one of the robbers got on. Bug saw a motorcycle behind us, and a car did follow us until the last turn to the police station in Valle but whether it was the robbers or not, I have no idea. Oddly, those last few minutes we were ducked on the bus floor and the driver sped, honking toward town were as scary if not more frightening than the actual robbery. Women wailing and praying out-loud will have that affect.

While staring at a gun in the hand of someone using it as a means of control and threat, I was glad I remember to report my whereabouts to Peace Corps. I gave them my money, cell phone and earrings pleading silently for them to leave our wine and groceries. I completely forgot my camera was in my backpack as well. I wondered if my friend Fazy responded to the text message I sent her just minutes before, I hoped our friends started cooking dinner despite not hearing from us when we reached the halfway point as planned. I wondered if the guns were really loaded. Really? Those are the things that crossed my mind in the presence of two desperate kids with guns? It all turned out ok in the end. We made it to our destination, late and to worried friends (who were trying to call us and call us and call us) but safely. We corked a bottle of wine that survived the robbery and laughed all night in disbelief that the whole thing really happened. We told the story over and over, covering all the details. “My notebooks, my notebooks,” cried a university student in the front seat. He threw the backpack at her head and told her shut up about her notebooks as she continued to cry “My notebooks, my notebooks…” in relief. He took my small earrings and not Bug’s huge ones? He even examined my single hoops through two holes before deciding that he did indeed want that one as well. Money gets lost or spent, things can be replaced, everyone is safe. It is just one more story to share and an experience I hope I never forget, nor repeat.

August 27

Part I: The First Blow

It hit me. Wednesday August 19, 2009, 6:00pm, I realize for the first time that I am in fact, leaving. I spent the last several weeks answering various forms of the “how does it feel to be leaving” question the same way. “It doesn’t really feel like I am leaving… it hasn’t hit me yet.” Well folks, I’m going…
As my teachers started to arrive later than normal, I initially thought they were nervous for their final exam. But these are my level 2 teachers, I have worked with them for 2 years now, they haven’t arrived this late since TEAM 1! As they trickled in, each bearing something extra, I saw they were prepared for a fiesta. All year I wanted to bring them yellow jello. They notoriously have difficulty saying the color “yellow” and it comes out “jello”. On many occasions I have explained grinning that “jello” is food while “yellow” is the color, therefore, I wanted to bring them yellow jello. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find yellow so I settled for green. They still got a kick out of it. (By the way, most of them now say “yellow” correctly.) My small contribution was added to the snacks and cake they brought.
As they finished their exams we had our despidida (goodbye) in a corner of the municipal library where I held classes and some of the PC trainees worked around us setting up for a movie-night fundraiser scheduled after our class. I felt slightly awkward as people bustled around the library and the teachers presented me with gifts and said too many nice things about me. The despidida was kept short but they wouldn’t let me escape without each of their praise and thanks. “I love you,” one teacher told me as she hugged me goodbye for the evening. The thought they put into sending me off and their words were more than just the typical, “you are leaving so we should say something nice about you.” They talked about the things they took from my classes. It made me feel as though I did something meaningful and at least a few people were positively affected by my time here. I often felt as though I was growing personally through my service but wondered how much the community was taking from it. At least this small group of teachers has more confidence in themselves and their ability to teach English, I have seen them using more active teaching methods and their students seem to be retaining what they are teaching! If nothing else, I will never forget these 10 teachers who stuck with me and struggled through my first extended teaching experience. They even came back a second year! They probably taught me more than I them but either way, it appears a positive experience for all involved.


Part II: Friends in the Shower

You saw the cockroach (if you have forgotten, scan back a few months).
In addition Big Mama Cucaracha, I have seen mice and slugs in my shower on various occasions. Although in my opinion less disgusting, this morning (August 27) takes the cake in size and also wins with surprise factor, TWICE!
Today is Friday, water day. I had to leave to observe one of my TEAM teachers in her classroom and the water hadn’t started running yet. I opened the faucet and went to close the shower curtain to prevent the entire bathroom from becoming entirely drenched. The curtain stuck a bit before closing and I heard a thunk as something hit the shower floor. I was slightly taken aback when I saw a GIANT lizard in the bottom of my shower. It was actually a small iguana, my neighbors later confirmed. I think he was chilling out on the curtain rod while I got ready to leave (I generally bathe in the heat of the day or wash the dust/mud off in the evening.) Since I needed to leave, and he obviously got in somehow, I snapped a picture and left him to fend for himself and hopefully escape. I almost forgot about the entire incident. I returned a few hours later to running water and no electricity. Since the bathroom was dark, I reached toward the barrel to check that it was full and I could turn off the water. My hand did not hit water or the edge of the plastic barrel but the roughish skin of a reptile. I yelped with surprise and started laughing, disappointed no one was here to witness the spectacle. I brought my flashlight into the bathroom and there was my friend the iguana on the edge of the barrel closest to the faucet, tail hanging in this weekend’s bath water. I have to admit, I was startled. Still laughing, I couldn’t bring myself to reach in and turn off the water. I went looking for my 13 neighbor, he won’t be afraid of a lizard! He was not home but his 15 year old sister, mom (my tortilla lady) and the 2 year old were there to save me from the lizard and have a good laugh at me. They took the lizard outside where I took a few photos, a kid passing by took over and it escaped into my neighbors’ yard before they had a chance to kill it. Apparently this type of iguana bites and they were set on eliminating it and preventing it from pestering other neighbors. At least I gave them a good laugh and one more “Crazy Gringa” story to remember me.

I just hope I don’t find any more unpleasant friends in my bathroom in the next 3 weeks.

PS: my mental state is questionable. I have at least 4 days worth of things to plan in the next two weeks and one available day. My last week in site is useless when it comes to work. Tuesday is Honduran Independence day and Thursday is Teachers’ day. That means no school all week and the following Monday I head to Tegus for my remaining days. How did the last month of service become the most stressful and busiest time of my entire 2 years? You may or may not hear from me again before I hit the road with Alice and Rachel. Buen viaje a mi?!

Photos: TEAM 1 and 2 teachers, my amigo iguana, me looking 5 yrs old opening my gift, Talanga’s giant Ceiba tree and mural

Mutually beneficial relationship... everybody wins

I have recently engaged in a relationship with my neighbors that benefits us both. My neighbors’ benefit is more concrete while mine is an ease of conscience. I get to feel good about myself. First, some background information about the ways of life here. In Talanga, there is running water twice a week. In my neighborhood Monday mornings and Friday mornings the faucets start working, often around 6 or 6:30 although it could be anytime. Water generally runs for the majority of the morning, sometimes into early afternoon. You never really know when it will come and go. Since the other 5 days there is no water, everyone spends these mornings filling every container and barrel they can find, hence the pila. A pila is essentially a concrete holding tank for water. The pila needs to be emptied and cleaned every so often. I have algae problems therefore my pila needs cleaning almost every week.

So, water comes every Monday and Friday, except when it doesn’t. Some days the water just doesn’t come. This usually does not cause problems for me. I am one person living in a small house with a rather large pila and a barrel in the bathroom which I use to bathe, wash hands and flush the toilet. I generally only use the pila water to wash clothes and dishes. Some times laundry misses the to-do list between water coming. Therefore, I have a huge pila full of water. When it comes time to clean the pila I must drain it completely. Occasionally, I see my neighbor kids walking to the river with buckets. A family with three adolescents and a toddler uses a lot of water. Just the laundry dirtied by a two year old probably uses more wash water than I use all week. When water inexplicably does not come, it causes stress and problems for many families. The wealthier families can buy extra water but that isn’t a realistic option for everyone.

I caught my neighbors walking to the river with buckets on a day I sat with a full pila. I invited the kids to bring water from my house to theirs instead of from the river. I think they felt a little guilty the first time, worried I would run out of water because I gave it to them. The water has been surprisingly reliable the last few months, until last week. Last Monday, water did not come, by Tuesday they were scraping the last drops from the bottom of their pila. The mom poked her head in my door (which is always standing wide open). She hesitantly asked if I could give them a bucket of water. When she saw my pila was full and I stressed that there is no way I could use it all, to take as much as they needed, she sent the kids back for a few more buckets. Thursday the son popped his head in, “Laura, regaleme agua por favor.” Of course I will give you water! The family benefits by receiving free water from across the street instead of hauling it several blocks (slightly up hill). Talanga water is considered potable but I would not call it “clean” by any means. Some days it comes through the tap brown and muddy, especially after heavy rainstorms. That is just what you can see, I have not had my water quality checked for bacteria, parasites and other problems, I am afraid of the findings. Still, I believe the pila water is cleaner than the visibly polluted river (again, I don’t even want to speculate about what I can’t see!) How do I benefit from this arrangement? I feel better that my neighbors aren’t using river water (both for their own health and what is left of the health of the small river.) I also don’t feel guilty when I clean the pila and waste gallons and gallons of water. I realize this is not a sustainable solution but it works for now. In two months they will have to return to the river. Until then, they can keep laughing at me each time I buy 1 Lempira (about 6 cents) of tortillas. They understand that I am just one gringa and don’t eat tortillas with every meal but they still get a kick out of my 1 Lempira. Most people buy many, EVERY day. My host mom makes 60-70 tortillas daily. I enjoy my 3-5 (depending who fetches them for me) maybe once a week.

Yes, the "coup" continues but I don't really have any news for you. Life in Talanga still hasn't changed much.

Photos: 3rd grade dramas about hygiene and tooth brushing, my pila

June and July pictures

As promised, here are some photos from the last two months. Projects in the schools, teachers, the dinner I made for Honduran friends, my neighbor hood the day of the falling trees (the trees, neighbors, the police truck from my front door, etc), Bello on my front stoop, cutting the grass along the highway-with machetes, WA pride, this years Pasionistas (yep, group is changing again ALREADY!).

Still here...

Yes, I am still fine, just frustrated and STUCK! I am stuck in my site and haven't been to Tegus in 3 solid weeks. I am pretty sure that is a record. I have never stayed away from Tegus for more than 3 weeks. I WANT OUT!!!
But, at least I have my health...

photos soon... it's a "promise"

Micahel Jackson DIED! Oh, and a coup

Over the last two years, I have learned a lot about priorities. Well, that isn’t necessarily true. I am not sure I have learned so much as that the reality of priorities and the role they play in life is a constant presence. The way people prioritize has been a fountain of frustration throughout my service. Of course everyone prioritizes differently, especially once you cross the culture boundary. Some things just seem obvious, like health, hygiene and education. (Granted, my hygiene suffers on occasion and I eat foods and at places which I know will probably make me sick.) Thursday, I was reminded of how funny life is and priorities. It often takes days, weeks, sometimes months, for me to hear about events and news, especially from the US. I called a fellow volunteer to invite her to help judge the “First English Music Festival.” She answered with something to the effect of, “Hey what’s up, did you know MICHAEL JACKSON DIED! I just saw it on CNN.” It was strange to hear about such news within hours (I believe) of the actual event. An hour or two later, I stopped by the Passionist volunteers’ house and there too I heard the news. From the Passionists’ I visited one of my teachers and her family where she relayed the news and I later saw it on the local TV station, “Talanga Vision”. Apparently Michael Jackson (And Farah Fawcett as a side note on two of the four occasions) was just big news that I not only heard about it the same week, but FOUR times the day of! Life is funny.

The above paragraph was written June 27. Before the coup.

Speaking of news, it is amazing how little I have about the current situation here. You may have more information than I do. Especially since I do not own a TV or radio.
The question everyone wants to know: “What the hell is going on in Honduras?”
Yes, I am fine. Although the government is in major transition and somewhat unstable at the moment; violence (as far as I know, to this point) has been minimal. There have been many protests in the capital and bigger cities but they seem to be mostly peaceful. As for most small towns, life has continued more or less as normal. Here is what I can tell you and my understanding of the situation:
Last Sunday, June 28, “ex-President” Mel Zelaya had scheduled a special election to put a fourth box on the ballot. This new issue known as the “Cuarta Urna” would change the process to amend the constitution. The president would be able to make changes without going through Congress (which is currently the process). “While Honduran law allows for a constitutional rewrite, the power to open that door does not lie with the president. A constituent assembly can only be called through a national referendum approved by its Congress.” The National Congress, Supreme Court and Military stated that the election was unconstitutional and Sunday morning Mel made a statement from Costa Rica. Honduras had no power and news and radio stations were down from about 7:15am until midday. In the afternoon, Congress appointed the next in line (Micheletti, the president of Congress) as the new acting president until the next president is elected in November and sworn-in in January (as previously scheduled). This is an election year and Honduras has a single term limit for the office of President of the Republic.
Monday, school was cancelled. In many places schools have not yet reopened. Kids and teachers in Talanga returned to school on Tuesday and Wednesday but classes have been cancelled again today and tomorrow. Mel is scheduled to return to Honduras on Saturday.
Throughout the week, protesters for both Zelaya and Micheletti have gathered in the Capital and other cities. Some roadblocks have occurred. Peace Corps volunteers have very limited travel permission. I hate to speak for others, but I think I am safe in saying most PCVs just want the situation to end so we can go back to working and the previous level of travel freedom.

I never thought I would live through a coup. I must say, the view from my post in Talanga would not make a very good movie script. Considering power outages and cancelled school happen all too regularly, the only thing truly out of the ordinary is the news. Other towns may be different and I know some places lost power for 2 days straight during the week. As for now, we await an end to the restrictions and the reasons they are necessary. Happy 4th of July.

I tried to add photos but they won't upload. Sorry, internt sucks coup or no coup.

The best day...

I just finished reading What is the What, the story of a Sudanese refugee who eventually moves to the US. The book is great but one small detail struck me and has stayed with me over the last week or so since I read the passage. At some point during his years running from war, walking from one refugee camp to another, and learning about readjusting to life in the States, the young Sudanese kids were told to think of their favorite day, the best day ever. They were to summon the thought of this day whenever necessary whether hiding from soldiers, bombs or stressed in some other form. I imagine if you were to ask American kids to describe the best day, it would be dramatic, surreal, probably several highly unlikely events would occur or they would visit a place they imagine as heaven like Disneyland or a house made of chocolate. Maybe I am wrong but that is my hunch, I think before reading this book, I probably would have tried to come up with some impossible day that would be logistically, physically and/or fundamentally impossible. Maybe this is all the practice and emphasis on being creative that I received throughout my childhood and what I have experienced of adulthood.

The main character’s best day is simple. He is about seven years old on this day, before he ever left his home or was separated from his family, before he knew the meaning of war, first hand. Of course, school is cancelled for the day. I am sure this would follow suit in most cultures, even from kids who generally enjoy school. From there on, the day consists of helping his mother, leaning on his older sister as she labors through chores, fetching water for an older girl on whom he has a crush. He even imagines falling as he runs at top speed with his water can, trying to impress the girl of his affection. His best day seems so realistic. It is a day that could easily have been real. The mundane details of his dream day immediately struck me. What would the best day ever actually be like? The more I considered this, the more I think our young Sudanese friend is on the right track. I think the best day ever would be more or less like any other but where all the minor details fall into place and in your favor, or mine. I may have experienced this day.

I woke before my alarm Thursday morning which is not unusual. That I actually got out of bed before the third snooze is a minor miracle. I caught the free bus to the high school, another great feat for me. I miss this bus almost everyday and therefore pay for the public bus which passes through town about 10 minutes later and drops me off on the side of the highway, about a 10 minute walk from the school. I spent the entire school day giving an HIV/AIDS prevention workshop to eleventh graders, including a condom demonstration. Before coming here, I could not have imagined talking to high schoolers about sex ed, abstinence, condoms, etc but I have found that it is one of my favorite projects here. I feel I am giving kids the capacity to make more informed decisions, hopefully empowering the girls to make their own decisions and postpone a few from having their first child before graduating from high school. Of course I will never know the exact impact of these talks, but at least the information is now available to them.

Following the HIV talk, I headed to Tegus for physical therapy. While waiting for a bus to pass, the challenging mayoral candidate offered me a ride. It definitely beat sitting on an old school bus for an hour and a half. Physical therapy is always great. I cannot complain about electric stim with heat, ultrasound and a massage, followed by what I have dubbed “el crecedor” or the growing machine. I am strapped on a table which separates to stretch my lower back. Supposedly it will add a centimeter or two to my height. No complaints here! From PT, I headed to the office to check email and say good bye to a few volunteers finishing their service. I ended up receiving my second back rub of the day! Ten minutes sitting on the tile stairs of the Guadalupe II , 10 minutes I greatly appreciated. A few volunteers hung out on the patio of the Maya, enjoying the evening view of the hills around Tegus before sharing an excellent meal of carne asada and BBQed ribs with all the Honduran tipico. After dinner I somehow ended up the recipient of a double foot massage amidst the company and conversation of various PCVs whom I do not see regularly. I think it may have been the best day of my life…

…or have I been here too long? Or am I finally acclimated enough to appreciate these things? Either way, I realize more each day that it really is the little things that make the difference. The small things people do to help things fall into place, to show you they care, evidence of effort and priority.

photos: Dental Brigade in Cantarranas (those would be tooth extraction tools... this is why we brush our teeth, so the dentist doesn't need these!), Dia de la cruz, kinder kids. Yep, Bello is getting big.