Learning and Serving

SALT is Serving and Learning Together. In theory, this year in Honduras I am both serving and learning. I know that I have already learned lots; the serving aspect is harder to see at this point. In orientation we were told that they initially wanted to name the program Learning and Serving Together, to put the emphasis on the learning aspect. However, SALT was a better acronym than LAST. This might just be anecdotal, but has some real elements of truth. I often find myself with periods of waiting, so I´ve started making a list of things I am learning. So, at the beginning of my fourth month as an MCCer, here is a list of some of what I have learned thus far:

1. Spanish. This was a major worry of mine before coming to Honduras, and it has certainly been my biggest achievement. I can participate in conversations (with fewer than 4 or 5 people), give a training on soil analysis (somewhat haltingly, but the people could understand me), pray and sing (although understanding sermons is still beyond me), and relate the story of my bus trip to Tegucigalpa.
2. How to sit. I often have to wait for somebody or something. For example, last Wednesday we were supposed to leave at 7am, and didn´t depart until 8:15. This involves a lot of patience, which I am also learning. However, since I like to be doing things, I generally need to find something to do when I find I can´t admire the mountains any more. So, I am learning:
3. How to play Sudoku. My cell phone has one game on it: Sudoku. Before coming to Honduras, I did not like this game. Now I have progressed through the beginner and intermediate levels, and can complete the advanced level in 15 minutes.
4. To greet people. When you arrive somewhere, everybody must be greeted individually, and not collectively. I can shake everybody´s hand (but not in a firm grip like we do in Canada). Women can be kissed on the cheek. When walking down the road, some kind of greeting is given to everybody you pass, but this greeting can be hello, good day/afternoon/evening, or goodbye. I haven´t yet figured out if there is a reason to give one of these greetings instead of the other to each passerby.
5. To drink coffee. I don´t like coffee. But here most people grow it, and everybody always has a pot on the stove. So when you drop by, they automatically offer you a cup of coffee. I don´t like to refuse hospitality, so I am gradually able to drink it without grimacing. It helps that they pour in lots of sugar!
6. New units of measurement. Not only have I adjusted to the lempira (L18 is about $1US), but also to manzanas (1 manzana = 7000 m²), tareas (17 tareas = 1 manzana), garrafas (1 garrafa = 5 litres), and quintales (1 quintal = 100lbs). Manzana is also the word for apple, so at first I wondered why we kept asking, “How many apples do you have?”
7. How to hand wash clothes. I enjoy washing my clothes. Each house has a pila, which is a large concrete water storage container (probably 1 cubic meter). Attached to the pila is a concrete washboard. Every Saturday morning I stoop over our pila (because I´m too tall for it, of course), and scrub out my clothes. Normally the MCC host family agreement has the host family wash the clothes, but here in La Campa something must be wrong if a young woman can´t wash her own clothes! Even the blind abuela washes her own clothes.
8. How to make tortillas. I´ve already discussed the extensive tortilla-making process, but haven´t made any more progress since then.
9. How to deal with ´el norte.´ In the rural areas, summer is defined as when it doesn´t rain, and winter is when it does rain. So although the temperatures are approaching the lowest of the year, we are certainly in summer. El norte is the cold wind that blows from the north (norte) at times during October, November and December. When el norte is present, the doors rattle, cold drafts find their way in through the cracks, and nobody is warm. So I have a towel wedged around my window, a plank across the crack at the bottom of my door, and a large stone to keep the door from rattling. And I have five covers on my bed (each cover is about as thick as denim).
10. What goes down must go up. This applies to walking on mountain roads. I´ve decided that in Honduras the glass half empty/full approach is not as good as my down/up approach. An optimist says that what goes up must go down, and looks forward to the downhill segment of the road while slogging uphill. A pessimist says that what goes down must go up, and dreads the uphill segment that must follow the downhill. Ive been both an optimist and a pessimist.
11. Animal care. I know about the breeding cycle of rabbits, how to vaccinate cows and rabbits, a variety of herbal cures for chickens, and what to feed chickens and rabbits. I am also familiar with the methods for killing chickens and rabbits, although I have not been called upon to participate (yet)!
12. A bit about bravery. A number of people have called me brave, which makes me feel proud but perplexed, as I certainly don´t feel brave. Looking back over the past several months, I think that the bravest thing I´ve done was take the leap of faith to come to Honduras. And when I made that decision, it didn´t feel brave at all – it just seemed like the natural next step for me. I guess it comes down to how you define bravery.
13. How to get by without a daily weather forecast. Normally I like knowing what the weather forecast is for the day and for the week. With limited contact with weather bulletins, and a limited understanding of Honduras weather, each day is a surprise.

I am positive I will continue to learn more as the year progresses, and will have a whole new level of education when I return to Canada in July (next winter!).

Our truck couldn't cross this river, as there were too many rocks! So we unloaded all the material, and it got carried across to the other side on a pedestrian bridge.

My accomplishment one Saturday morning!

My first training session! I led a workshop on soil analyis for 31 adults, plus children.