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.

How smart do you have to be to drown yourself?

Despite how this entry turns out, I am still enjoying my time here. Lately things have been a little more difficult. I have reached a point where I am a bit burnt out of 8 hours of training and Spanish classes every day and living in another families home. I have 3 1/2 weeks left in Cantaranas, then 1 more week until becoming an offical volunteer. Once that happens, I will finally go to my site and be able to settle in to life here. I think these feelings of frustration are compounded by other minor details. Although the food generally tastes pretty good, it is starting to catch up with me. Eating fried food 3 times a day, everyday and hot meals in 90 degree weather is slowing me down a bit. It´s now ¨normal¨ to have a slight stomach ache most of the day. Nother unbearable, but not my first choice either. There are a lost of things in this country that I don´t really understand, but above all, for the live of me, I can not figure out why the hell anyone would eat hot soup in 90 degree weather! I feel that I have been a pretty good sport about the food (I am definitely my father´s child there). I eat just about everything that is put in front of me. I finally had to put my foot down on the hot soup though. ¨Muy rico ¿si?¨¨The flavor is good, but I don´t like eating hot soup on hot days.¨ Luckily, my host family thought that was funny, and hasn´t served me soup since. I just don´t understand. It´s kind of like covering your baby with a blanket in the middle of summer, as you watch the seat drip down their cheek. Do you want to crawl in a down sleeping bag in the middle of a Sahara summer? No! So why not drink cold beverages and eat cold meals when it´s hot outside? It´s beyond me, but in another month, I will be able to cook for myself again.

I experienced one of my highest and lowest points here simultaneously last week. One of the volunteers who came to help with training is also from Washington (Monroe), since he will leave in December, he passed on a book about our beatiful state. Full page photos of the entire spectrum of WA, from Pike Place, to Mt. Baker, the San Juans, wheat fields in E WA, and the Wenatchee River. I was joking with Emily (probably my best friend here who happens to be from WA as well, go figure) about how the pictures were going to make me cry. I guess I shouldn´t joke about things like that because that led to my first tears since leaving SeaTac. It isn´t that I don´t miss you, and the beautiful place I call home, but let´s face it, I´ve never been a big crier. Granted, there were only about 3 tears, but it was a strange reality that I am really here.

In general, everything seems very surreal. It´s happening, and it´s incredible, but it all feels oddly normal and mundane (that is the surreal part). Sometimes I feel like I will wake up the next day with running water, and septic in which you can flush the toilet paper, or be able to ask what´s for breakfast without having to translate for myself first. While this life seems so strange, it is surprisingly difficult to picture life in the states. Everything seems so expensive and unnecessary. I don´t even want to know how I will react when I actually do return.

Onther type of surreal... Sometimes, hearing other people´s stories makes me appreciate the simplicity of my own living situation (when I don´t know what to say or how to say it, I just don´t talk to my family). Last week, we recieved a warning from a classmate, ¨Don´t touch the pila water!¨ (A pila is a large cement basin which is your water supply and generally has a rippled cement surface on which to wash clothes.) That warning basically means, don´t use the toilet and use purchased drinking water to wash your hands. I thought this was an odd warning but definitely one to heed. Later, we learned the story. The day before, we heard a ruckus as the resident chickens pecked at left over food on the dirty dishes. We didn´t think much of but felt for the girl who is staying there. Apparently, chickens on the pila is not uncommon and she is not happy about it. As it turns out, one of the chickens must have leaned too far and fell into the water. The American was lucky enough to find the drowned chicken later that evening. It gets better... The host mother removed the chicken from the pila and the following day, the host siblings used the same dead chicken water to bathe themselves. I will spare further details but I am thankful my family does not have chickens. Don´t worry, bathing in dead-chicken water isn´t normal behavior in Honduras, but there are strange people in every country. Our Honduran Spanish teacher seemd pretty disturbed the story and I believe someone talked to the family about water sanitation.

Like I said, despite how this entry may have turned out, I am still enjoying myself, for the most part. I am making a few good friends who will play an integral role in my sanity over the next two years. You guys would be amazed at how well I am learning to entertain myself. My new favorite spot- lying on the tile floor of my bedroom with my ipod, doing sit-ups. I spend a lot of time alone in my room and I have amazingly little to do. I read the last Harry Potter in 3 days and have read all of the books I brought with me. Just imagine how much I could have read if I LIKED to read!

I will try to update again next weekend but it depends when I make it to Valle to use the internet (yes, I am living in an internet-free town).
This week, I miss carpet, reduced-fat WheatThins, cold food and of course, good chocolate!

Oh, and if you want to send a postcard, letter, photos, or a small package (large envelope), I would LOVE it (the address is on facebook if you don´t have it, or you can ask)!

Change of Scenery

I apologize that I have been so aweful about keeping everyone updated. I had internet in the last town but unfortunately, all of the Peac Corps Trainees have the same scedule and it was usually full when I had time to use it. I am sorry to say that it is unlikely that this situation will improve in the next few months because we moved to another town with out internet access. I now have to take a bus for about 45 minutes to use the internet.

I am now in Field Based Training in Cantaranas (singing frogs), Honduras. Cantaranas is about 2 hours (by bus) northeast of Tegucigalpa. It´s hot, very hot and a little humid. I am very glad we came during the winter because I´m not sure how well I would adjust from our Northwest winter into their summer. Right now it is the middle of winter and it feels like a Tacoma summer. probably 90 degrees and no air conditioning in which to escape.

Physically, I´m adjusting to the weather and the food. The food in Cantaranas is a little different than it was in Santa Lucia much of that may or may not simply be the change in families. They use a lot of salt and margerine in this country. My new host family is really nice but they try to feed me SO much! I try to tell them that I don´t need so much but I´m hesitant not to sound rude since I still am not fluent in Spanish.

My Spanish had definitely improved but I still feel that I have a long way to go. It is exhausting having to speak in Spanish all day and evening. In Santa Lucia I woke with the roosters every morning and went to bed around 9. Yes, me, going to bed early every night, by choice! (And I now drink coffee with some regularity. Yes Brian, it´s really coffee, not Nescafe!) Cantaranas is a bit different and I actually need my alarm. My host family lives a block from the Parque Central and this town is a bit noisier than Santa Lucia so it´s a little more difficult to go to sleep early.

Psychologically, I am holding up remarkably well. I really like most of the people in my project, and training class but I miss everyone from home. It´s difficult to talk about it in detail because I don´t know how to describe this place and the entire experience. The most difficult thing right now is a constant feeling of being a guest, and unsettled. Just as we adjusted to Santa Lucia and our host families, the group split up b project and we had to move in with new families. We will be here for 6 weeks before returing to Santa Lucia for a few das before heading to our sites. No, I don´t not know where I will be yet. I will definitely let you know when I find out in about 6 weeks.

It´s a beautiful country. I love it but I miss good chocolate, dried fruit and nuts. And of course, you!