Saying Goodbye

This week I returned to San Pedro Sula after saying goodbye to my friends and family in La Campa. I spent a final week there, wrapping things up. It was an excellent time and provided good closure, as I spent time with people, visited places one last time, and prepared for the next steps.

On Friday night, we had a little farewell party at work. Lindsey, the other North American volunteer, baked brownies, which were wonderful! We took lots of pictures, and thanked each other for the work that everybody has done over the past year.

"Thank you Alison! You will stay in our hearts always. May God bless you."

I cross-stitched a small version of the CASM logo, and presented it to my colleagues.

My colleagues.

My family.

"Heat, ma'am!"

"Heat, ma'am! it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones." ~Sydney Smith, Lady Holland's Memoir

Last week I left the mountainous La Campa for the valley region near San Pedro Sula. A difference in altitude of 1km makes a significant difference in temperature (about 6C). So instead of high temperatures of 30C, we have high temperatures of 35C PLUS the humidity, making it feel over 40C every day. Instead of sleeping with a blanket every night, I kick the sheet off, and wake up sweating. My sweat droplets coalesce into raindrops with unprecedented frequency.

I am spending about 2 weeks in the valley region, helping out at a farm/retreat centre that is being supported by MCC. The property was donated to one of MCC's partner organizations, but they lacked the resources to run it. An MCC family is getting it running and profitable before turning it back over to the management of the partner organization.

I am spending the mornings exercising my landscaping skills, getting muddy and eaten by ants, and loving it. I no longer have to wonder where my insect bites are coming from: they all come from ants. In the afternoons I am helping out at a tutoring program for kids who are struggling at school. Two of the more challenging kids are two siblings, age 8 and 12, who are both still in grade 1.

After spending months living and interacting in a culture that is not my own, it is very relaxing to be living with a North American family, where I know what to expect, and where my actions are expected. Where I can jump in and help with dinner, because it is something I know how to cook. Where I can eat and make comfort food from my home culture. Where I can fully articulate what I want to say, because I can say it in English. Where I can curl up on a couch (what a novelty!) with a book, and not have it be a surprising event. All these are things that it is so easy to take for granted, until you get placed in another culture. Where different foods are cooked by different people on a stove I don't know how to work properly. Where I have to speak another language. Where couches are rarities, and reading for pleasure is practically unknown. So despite working physically harder here than I have yet to do in La Campa, it is easier mentally and culturally.

Be Bored Gracefully

I have just skimmed over most of the blog posts I have made over the past several months. I nodded and smiled at them, but recognized that I have missed out on an important aspect of my time here in La Campa. I have not talked at all about being bored!

Boredom has been a large problem. Similar to other volunteers who have worked with CASM in La Campa, it was very challenging to find work for me to do. I have had the soil analysis project, which was suggested by my supervisor, but which was not really wanted among the communities. And I have been teaching English a few hours a week since March, but at a day to day level, I frequently have come to the office wondering, "what shall I do today?" And often the answer has been, "very little." This has been challenging me for nearly the entire time that I have been here in La Campa. How can I find ways to share my skills with my coworkers who do not seem to want them?

A few weeks ago I came across a quote I wrote down during orientation last year: "be bored gracefully." This is a good lesson to learn, and I have been trying to learn it daily for months. I don't know how well I have succeeded, but it is a life lesson not to forget.

In the weeks since April the amount of work available has decreased significantly since several of CASM's projects ended, and they are now into the second month of searching for new sources of funding. I have been looking at my last seven weeks in La Campa wondering how I can occupy myself with no work!

So, through discussions with MCC supervisors, I now have a plan of work for the next weeks that will keep me from stagnating from boredom! I will spend 2-3 weeks at a farm and retreat centre that is being run by an MCC family, helping them out. I will spend a week in La Campa saying goodbye, wrapping things up, giving a final English exam, and celebrating the abuelita's 96th birthday. And then I will spend the final two weeks with the connecting peoples coordinator, visiting different regions and organizations and promoting MCC's one-year programs for young adults.

I am excited about these opportunities to help out and learn more about other regions of the country, and most of all that I will be able to wake up and say: "This is what I will do today!"

Results!

On Monday, I returned home to La Campa after the MCC Honduras team retreat. All 20 of us gathered in Tela (on the Carribean coast) for a few days of fellowship, sharing, swimming and relaxing together. I had a wonderful time with them, but at the end I had to make my first goodbyes in preparation for leaving Honduras, as I won't be seeing some of them again.

I am back home, and back at the office, but the office is strangely silent. CASM has 7 or 8 offices throughout Honduras, but each office is in charge of its own funding and projects, with guidance from a central office. The main source of funding for CASM La Campa expired at the end of April, and no new source has been found yet (despite having known that it was a 3-year project, scheduled to end April 2011). However, this means that only one of my colleagues is actually receiving an income for the work he is doing. The rest are working part-time as volunteers, including the director of the office.

So two colleagues are considering working every other week, and one is coming in as needed. The caretaker is still coming in every day to keep the chickens fed, the plants watered, and the weeds down. But there have already been a few days when nobody has come to the office, and as I have no keys to enter....

On the plus side, today I finally received the results of my soil samples!!!! Two months after they promised I would receive them, but at least they arrived! So this is a very positive note. Also positive is the interest that another community has shown in soil analysis. I shall just have to pester the lab daily to ensure a prompt analysis of their samples!

Pictures

Let me take advantage of the good internet connection to post some pictures from the trip Lexie and I took to Guatemala.

On our first full day in Guatemala, Lexie and I climbed this volcano, Pacaya. It is active (you can see steam coming out of the top).

Antigua, Guatemala has many churches. This is La Merced, which was beautiful. I hope you can see the intricate white painting which highlights the carved patterns. The church is flying a purple flag for Lent.

Antigua has suffered numerous earthquakes, so there are also many churches in ruins. Here I am standing next to parts of the ceiling. The rubble raised the floor level at least 2 meters above where it used to be.

We spent a few days in Panajachel, on the Lago de Atitlan. There are many towns on the lake, and regular boats connect them. We took a boat to Santiago de Atitlan, on the far side of the lake.

Guatemala is known for its beautiful fabrics. The markets in Santiago were amazing. This is the tourist market. We also went to the local market, where we were able to purchase fabric that hadn't already been made into something. The bargaining was interesting, as the vendors talked to each other in a Mayan language, Lexie and I conversed in English, and the bargaining was in Spanish.

During the time we were in Panajachel, it was unseasonably rainy and cloudy. Three volcanos surround the lake, but we only got slight views through the mists.

Travelling and Staying

Sometimes, as I walk down the road in La Campa, I am amazed and wonder that I really am here, despite having called it home since September. Here in rural Honduras. Here, where I skirt around dogs, horses, cows, chickens, and everything that they leave behind in order to have that walk down the road. Here, where the mountains surround the valley with beauty. Here, where the church is at the centre of the community, and its bells call people together. I notice my town more if I go away for a while, or if somebody comes to visit. Both have happened in the past two weeks, with much enjoyment.

Semana Santa, or Holy Week, is a holiday in most of Honduras and the rest of Central America. As the office was closed, I took my vacation time and merged it with my friend Lexie’s visit. We decided to spend this week in Guatemala, in Antigua and Panajachel. I was curious to see what differences I could notice between Guatemala and Honduras, and I did notice several, including:

• Higher and steeper mountains in Guatemala, including the presence of active volcanoes
• More and better terracing of fields on hillsides in Guatemala
• Greater prevalence of indigenous clothing and culture in Guatemala (in this case, Mayan)
• Many more private tour agencies in Guatemala
• Having to bargain in Guatemala, whereas in Honduras, nearly everything except taxis is a fixed price (as I can’t bargain well, the fixed price is nice!)

We spent the first several days in Antigua, which was beautiful and very tourist oriented. One of the Semana Santa traditions in many cities is to make intricate sawdust carpets in the street which get walked on by the processions which follow. I do not have any pictures, but if you look here ( ) you can get an idea of what they were like. Antigua was also full of old churches which had been destroyed during many previous earthquakes. We wandered through ruins of cathedrals, convents and monasteries which are scattered throughout town.

There are several volcanoes surrounding Antigua, and we decided it would be a fun idea to climb one of them. So we joined a guide, and hiked up! It was beautiful and unearthly! We couldn’t make it to the very top, as last year’s eruption made it unsafe, but we got to walk over the lava field and feel the heat radiating up.

We also spent some time in Panajachel, which is on Lago de Atitlán. This large lake is surrounded by three volcanoes and is said to be extremely beautiful. We were there during an unseasonable time of rain and cloud, and could not see the lake in all its glory. But we did take a boat across the lake to another town, where we accidentally joined a Maundy Thursday procession, and bankrupted ourselves buying Mayan fabrics.

As no buses run on Good Friday, we had to take advantage of the many tour agencies, and join in a private shuttle bus to get to Guatemala City. The difference between the private shuttles and the local buses is astronomical. The price was way more than doubled, there was air conditioning, we were dropped off at our hotel door, there were only foreigners, and there was lots of leg space. But it was boring. The local buses play loud music, squash three (or more) people into a seat, are very cheap, take a bit longer, but give wonderful and colourful experiences. We made it to the city in time to see the Good Friday procession.

This procession was wonderful to experience. Hundreds of men in black robes formed the procession, carrying the Stations of the Cross, playing funeral marches in the two bands, or just marching in the procession. The largest ‘float’ was carried by 60 men, and was Jesus in the tomb. Women, also in black, carried images of the pains of Mary. It was a full experience, with sight, smell, sound, taste and touch. We awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of another procession moving through the streets.

On Saturday we travelled for 11 hours, but made it back to La Campa before dark! Our goal was to be in my home community for Easter Sunday, and we were. The service was full, as all the parts that had been left out during Lent were now brought back: incense and gloria and gifts before the altar.

We spent most of the following week in La Campa, as I had to teach and work. Our time here was very tranquilo and very pleasant. After a quick visit to the Mayan ruins in Copán Ruinas, Lexie flew home, and I took the series of local buses that got me home, just in time to prepare exams for my grade 4, 5 and 6 English classes. I don’t approve of a week of exams for kids this young; many of them are quite stressed out. I think that well-spaced smaller tests would be better. The exams were this morning, so we'll see what the results will be!

My Favourite Things (In Honduras)

White-washed adobe with roofs of red tile,
Flirting young students just learning their wiles,
Uniformed children all lined up to sing:
These are a few of my favourite things.

Slapping mosquitoes, and chasing off chickens,
Fried plantain pieces, and playing with children,
Finding my students their homework did bring:
These are a few of my favourite things.

When one bug bites, and another stings,
And I itch like mad,
I simply remember my favourite things,
And then I don’t feel so bad.

Going to bed early, and eating fresh mangos,
Library books, and new patterns to sew-o,
Walking to mass as the church bell rings:
These are a few of my favourite things.

Mountaintop forests, what high elevations,
Washing my clothes without electrification,
Crystal-clear waters that pour forth from springs:
These are a few of my favourite things.

When one bug bites, and another stings,
And I itch like mad,
I simply remember my favourite things,
And then I don’t feel so bad!

With the really-true dry weather and heat, many insects have emerged which I have not seen until now. Mosquitoes have returned, but so have fleas, bedbugs and a wider option of spiders, along with a host of other biting insects. Mosquitoes seem to be the least of my problems, as they have a helpful hum to identify their presence. In comparison, I have never seen the insects that like to live in the seams of my clothing or the ones that must inhabit parts of my bed. Spiders can move surprisingly fast, and you don’t know one was around until some body part starts itching and turning red. Which insect took 15 bites in a 10cm diameter area of my leg? Who knows! I didn’t notice the bites until the insect was long gone.

In other news, Semana Santa (Holy Week) begins next week. If people can afford to, this is when they travel, and prices (especially at the beaches) skyrocket. My friend Lexie is coming from Ontario, and we plan to visit parts of Guatemala, while still returning to La Campa in time to celebrate Easter Sunday here.

Water

As I wrote around Christmas-time, I always feel overwhelmed when I got into the city, and can't help comparing my experience with the experiences of my city friends. They, generally, have access to licuados, stores with long pants, fruit markets, chocolate, refrigerators, etc., but there is one main resource where my access is many times greater: water.

My two fellow SALTers have already blogged about their water experiences (Charissa and Elise). For them, as well as the other MCC workers in Tegucigalpa, water use always has to be thought about. The municipal water is only turned on in their neighbourhood a couple of times per month. When the water comes, they fill pilas, tanks and other containers to ensure they have enough water for the next couple of weeks.

In comparison, water has flowed into my house every day since I arrived in La Campa. I can take a shower every day, and water gushes from the showerhead. I am not restricted to a bucket shower (although my showers were cold water until the end of December when the shower water heater arrived, while my friends could heat up the water for their buckets). But now I enjoy a steaming shower every morning, slapping the mosquitos who have made my shower their habitat. I can also wash my clothes and bedding whenever I want. There is always water in the pila for this high consumption process.

Piped water only came to La Campa about 15 years ago. Before that, all water had to come from the river. People would bring laundry down to the river to wash it, and would carry water up the very steep hill to their homes. A few lucky families live right on the river, but the rest live well above it. Thanks to La Campa's proximity to Celaque, the highest mountain in Honduras and a major source of water to western Honduras, there was always water in the river, even in the dry season. And now that the water comes directly to the houses from a spring up the mountain, the water comes to the house 24 hours per day, every day of the year. For this splendid service, my family only has to pay L15 per mont (less than $1)!

Travel, Residency and Strikes

The news came about two weeks ago that our paperwork for becoming residents of Honduras was ready for the next step. I had not been responsible for any of the previous steps, but this one required me (and my fellow yearlings) to travel to the immigration office in Tegucigalpa last week. I thought of my two previous trips to Tegucigalpa, and hoped this trip would only be nine hours like the second trip, and not 20 like the first. Luckily, all the buses were running, and there were no accidents along the way.

I was warmly welcomed to Tegucigalpa by a number of MCCers, who fed me comfort food (cream of tomato soup, baking powder biscuits, and salad full of fresh, unsalted vegetables – what more could I want?)!

On Wednesday we set out for the immigration office, hoping we could negotiate Honduran beaurocracy and that we had everything we needed. It turned out that we were each missing two passport/visa sized photos. So after they s-l-o-w-l-y processed us as far as they could, we set out to get some photos taken. We were successful at the second mall we tried. We made it back to immigration, where they processed us with surprising speed! So, at about 2pm, after 5.5 hours of waiting at immigration and running around for pictures, we became Honduran residents! I now have a temporary paper declaring me a resident of Honduras. The official residency card should come in about a month, I hope.

I spent a couple of extra days in the city, visiting my MCC colleagues, their host families, and their workplaces. It was great to be able to do this. I returned from the city on Sunday in one bus, two rapiditos (16-20 person vans), two pick-up trucks, and one motorcycle. I had arrived in Gracias after the last bus had left for La Campa, so the pick-ups and motorcycle got me the rest of the way home, safe and sound.

My time in Tegucigalpa was complicated by the teachers who are on strike, and who have gathered in the city to protest. Before going anywhere, we tried to confirm where the protests were taking place, so as not to run into them, which could potentially be dangerous. We took more taxis, instead of using buses, to be safer. Now back in La Campa, I went to the school yesterday to see if I would be teaching English to my grade 4 class. Most of the kids were there, but it was only to sweep the schoolyard, get their daily glass of milk, and get more homework. The teachers taught most of last week, despite the strike, but are not teaching for at least the beginning of this week. From my observations, they are handling this quite well. They are holding regular meetings with parents, and are trying to put the students first. But since I could not teach class yesterday or today, does that mean I am striking as well…?

Past, Present and Future

Over my past nearly-seven months as an MCC SALTer, I have been thinking a lot about the past and future, while trying to live in the present. This is not necessarily the best thing, with thoughts diverging with daily life. Several things have happened recently to make me think a bit more about the future: I was accepted to the University of Waterloo to study in the Masters of Environmental Studies program; my family visited, and my sister and I continued scheming of sharing an apartment when I get back; and thirdly, MCC purchased my airplane ticket to return to Akron in July!

At the beginning of my time here, it was too easy to think of the past, and now it's too easy to think about the future. Meanwhile, time is passing incredibly rapidly. Let me give you a few "present" updates:

• I have begun teaching English at the local elementary school. I was rather skeptical about this at first (me... teach?!?!?!?!?!?!?), but I have finished my first classes, and quite enjoyed them. The school director approached my CASM supervisor to ask if I could teach. As my time was/is still remarkably un-busy, I accepted as a way to fill my time. I am teaching students in grades 4, 5, and 6, and as there are 50 of them in total, this is becoming a wonderful way to be more connected in the local community.

• Last week we had four major rainstorms, and it's been thundering ominously for the past two afternoons. We are supposed to be in the midst of the dry season. There should be NO rain. Last year the bean and corn harvests were damaged by unseasonal rain (right now, bean prices are twice what they should be; the poorer farmers in the mountains don't have the ready money to purchase these staples, as they generally rely on their own harvest. There is worry about significant hunger over the next several months.) Unfortunately, this unseasonable rain is an impact of climate change in this region, and will likely continue to be a problem. CASM is trying to figure out what are the appropriate responses and adaptations.

• Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. I went to mass, and the church was packed. I, along with most people, do not receive communion, but everybody was welcomed to receive a cross of ashes on the forehead. I continue to enjoy the sense of community at church through liturgy and song and prayer.

• Last Saturday, as I was cleaning my room, a chicken entered, and decided that her favourite place was under my bed. It took a long time to get her out. Oh the challenges!

Fun Firsts with the Family

Just after I passed the halfway point of my SALT year, my wonderful family decided to come visit for a week. Mom came a bit early to do some MCC visits, and I got to tag along with her until the rest came. Family, for this week, consisted of Mom and Dad, Jennifer and Cynthia.

Although my family has experience travelling in the global South, I persuaded them to experience a number of “firsts.” I restricted them to pack one backpack each, and no more. Then I forbade renting a car for the entire week, and said that buses and taxis would work fine. This caused a bit of consternation for some, but they came ready to experience my experiences.

I have had a number of interesting bus experiences so farm, but luckily the buses all behaved for my family. No chickens, no accidents, and only one vomiting neighbour. The best part was counting the number of passengers on each bus. The two records were about 100 people in a school bus, and 27 people on a 16-person van. I say that the 27 were on the van, not in it, because at the peak, four young men were holding on tight and hanging out the door, flirting with the young women standing just inside. Talk about a captive audience!

A few Spanish words characterized our experiences: tranquila/tranquilo (relax, don’t worry, take a chill pill), pena (embarrassment, particularly on my part, at the activities of tourists), and licuados (fresh fruit milkshakes or smoothies). We were all very tranquilo when the bus was late to arrive in Gracias, making us miss the last bus of the day to La Campa. I won’t list the pena J And as soon as we had access to licuados, we had at least one or two per day.

We visited La Campa first. Unfortunately my family couldn’t experience La Campa in its normally tranquila state, as the town was preparing for the major religious festival the following week. The town was bustling with vendors and visitors. We visited my Honduran families, my supervisor, my church, the cemetery, the river canyon, and a pottery artisan.

We then moved on to Copán Ruinas, site of Mayan ruins dating to the 800s. Our guide at the ruins realized that we were keen on learning as much as possible, and so he taught us the base 20 mathematical system of the Mayans, how to read a few hieroglyphs, and much more. We also explored the town a bit, having licuados, and climbing the impossibly steep roads.

Our final stop was Tela, on the north coast. We took a boat trip out to a national park, the majority of which is only accessible by boat, we swam, we drank licuados, we visited the largest botanical garden in Central America, and we read on the porch enjoying the sea breeze.

Each of the three places we visited was very distinct. Charissa, a fellow SALTer, says that you could be dropped down in one place in Honduras and think you know the country, but as soon as you travel a short distance, the country changes entirely. La Campa is a Lenca town, the Lenca being one of the few remaining indigenous groups in Honduras. It is high in the mountains, and so is colder and characterized by pine forest. Right now it is dry, as there hasn’t been a proper rain since December. Copán Ruinas has the Mayan ruins, of course, but is still surrounded by Mayan communities. It is at a lower elevation, receives much more rain, and so is somewhat green right now. Tela is on the coast, is flat, with tonnes of rain, a Garifuna culture, and is being surrounded by kilometers of palm plantations. About 25 km of the highway approaching the city is lined by palm plantations, with nothing else to break the biological monotony.

This wonderful week flew by much too fast, and saying goodbye was hard, of course. But I received a warm welcome back home in La Campa, and am about ready to dive into my final five months.

Now is the winter of our discontent

I like observing things. Some of the things I have observed lately make me feel sad, uncomfortable or discontented:

It is so easy to identify the mayor’s house in La Campa. It’s the house with the swimming pool (the only one in La Campa) and three gigantic satellite dishes. Recently, the mayor inaugurated several projects, including a housing project. The houses in this project are made of the cheapest materials possible, lack pilas (outdoor water basin, used for everything by everybody) and showers, and seem designed to reduce self respect by the paint and prison numbering system.

I recently spent four days translating for a brigade that was handing out glasses. Through this group, I observed a lot:

• The group worked with evangelical pastors in the surrounding communities. They assumed that the pastors would contact the entire community. Instead, they only contacted their own church members. So anybody outside their church was excluded.

• It is challenging to be the bridge between two cultures. Before entering this four-day experience, I had assumed that being a translator simply meant translating words. But there is more to it than that. I’m not fully entrenched in the Honduran culture nor the US culture, but have rootlets in each. Each has its own perceptions about the other, some of which are spoken, and some of which are unspoken. And I was in between them, trying to bridge the language and cultural gaps, blushing in awkwardness at some of the activities of the gringos.

• I like see myself as different from groups of people who come to give things for two weeks. I’m here for nearly a year, working for a local organization, building up relationships, and recognizing the importance of learning. But really, I’m a gringa myself, in a foreign culture, making cultural mistakes, photographing, barely becoming accustomed to things and then leaving.
  

• However, I do feel offended when I watch fellow foreigners grabbing small children for a photo, just because they are cute. Ditto for grandmothers. They are beautiful people, but what is the point of taking children onto your lap, photographing them, and then releasing them without finding out their names, or becoming somewhat acquainted.
  

• Giving candy out indiscriminately does not help either. Yes, the children will enjoy the candy, but they come to see gringos only as people who hand things out for them to receive. And that makes things more challenging down the road.

I frequently listen to my supervisor talk about all the evils of corruption and backroom agreements that are here in Honduras. In fact, one of CASM’s projects supports transparency commissions, whose duty is to monitor and audit local governments to make sure the money goes where it should. But then I watch my supervisor use connections to get her son into university and to get her daughter a North American sponsor (through a child sponsor program), and use CASM vaccines for her family’s cows.

The president of Honduras, the US ambassador, the head of USAID Honduras, the president of congress, and others visited La Campa on Friday. They inaugurated a USAID project that will bring $82 million into the region over the next five years This short event highlighted many things:

• CASM La Campa wants some of that money, as it is specifically designated to food security, a main focus of our work. So my colleagues wrote a letter to each of the dignitaries, introducing CASM to them. Well and good. But they decided that my fellow international volunteer and I were the best ones to hand the letter to the US ambassador. My nationality didn’t matter; our whiteness did. I’m used to being stared at for being white. I get catcalls regularly. But this made me feel more uncomfortable than these events.

• The Hondurans in the audience stayed well back from the stage, except for when the president arrived. There was a brief surge forward to greet him, and then they all moved back. On the other hand, every white person who lives in the vicinity came and stood at the front, and interacted with the dignitaries. Smiling photos were taken of the Peace Corps volunteers with the US ambassador. I got to meet most of the dignitaries, except the president. There was a distinct white privilege here. Even when people were making speeches, they greeted and thanked the dignitaries first, the Peace Corps volunteers second, and the community members last. Once I realized the invisible barrier, I did my best to move back and stand with the Hondurans, and not with the expats.

I watch, and try to understand, and form conclusions. Who knows if I'm actually right with these observations? There could be things I don't understand. Take them with a grain of salt.