We may have been a day late, but we made it without too many problems.
Flying out of San Pedro was delayed by 2 or 3 hours, making us miss our connecting flight to Minn. By the time we got to Miami, the airport staff were ready to leave for the night. So, we got put up in a really nice place. The nicest hotel ever. We were rerouted to Dallas, then eventually got to minneapolis, or wherever the airport is.
American Things
1. Carpet-It feels nice on my feet.
2. Micro-brews-Dont taste like water
3. Family and friends-Its always nice to be home
4. Drinking Tap Water-Everyone tells me its safe, and I drank alot of it, but Im still nervous filling up that cup from the sink and probably scarred for life.
5. Lots of lights and electrical devises-Well, there are just alot of them.
6. Speaking English-all the time-and not having to translate to a friend. Its almost too easy.
I didnt even notice when we got to the desk in Miami that I was speaking spanish to the woman getting our hotel reservations. It didnt matter-she spoke spanish-but when I noticed it, what I had the realization, "Talk in english, you idiot."
7. Not knowing what to say-Aside from not being able to think of the words I want to say and having the english vocabulary of an 8 year old again, I dont really know what to say to people anyways.
somebody: "How's Honduras?" me: "Good."
Anyone who's travelled knows that sentence all too well and it doesnt really need an explanation. There's nothing you can do about it, and its just a part of coming home.
Luckily for us, our friends and family have been really great and helpful and asked us so many good questions. So, that makes me happy.
Time to eat again!
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Feliz Navidad! A little early.
Conversation while taking this picture: Time lapse of 35 minutes:
Eric: "Take a picture of us saying Merry Christmas!"
Andrik: "Yeah, we want a picture!"
Jeremy (the littlest one): "Do we get presents for taking the picture?" "Candy?"
Crystal: "No, now smile nice."
Eric: "What about Stella! She HAS to be in the picture, too."
(10 mins: boys disperse, find dog, pose for the third time)
Andrik: "Look, Stella likes pictures!"
Eric: "Look how happy she is!"
Crystal: "That's called animal abuse."
All: What?
Jeremy: "I'm happy!"
All: "Feliz Navidad everyone!"
All: Crystal, bring us candy when you come back.
So, Merry Christmas everyone, and we hope to see you all soon.
And dont forget to read the new blog before this one! We didnt want it to go forgotten.
Crystal and Simon
Monday, December 11, 2006
Adding Insult to Injury
Illness and injury are two afflictions that tend to shadow members of PC throughout their time outside of the states, for various reasons. Quite obviously, the developing world can be characterized by substandard sanitation, medical techniques which are scarce and antiquated, and the presence of diseases and illnesses which are products of geographical location, climate and weather patterns, or a simple inability to vaccinate everyone.
The same goes for injuries; the lifestyle here tends to be coarse and physical, the landscape rugged and sometimes resistant to human improvements like roads or stairs. In short, if you gotta move a bag of cement, you sling it over your shoulder and head off on your way. Injuries and illnesses come and go down here, and this week we got a visit from each.
Crystal was doing some exercises at the house last week when she heard something crack in her neck. Later, she turned her head to do something and fell over, not understanding what had just happened. After the local doctor recommended some injections for an obviously non-injectable condition, pc decided to send her to Tegucigalpa to visit a neurosurgeon. The problem was traced back to a rather severe car accident that Crystal had when she was sixteen, which had caused two of her vertebrae to become pinched together over the years.
The treatment was a week’s course of massages (the good) along with electroshock therapy (the bad). Since she was stuck in Tegucigalpa for a week, and being the supportive husband that I am, I came down to help her out. The allure of international cuisine and free hotel rooms playing a minor role in my decision making process.
But, as irony would have it, I became violently ill mere hours after getting into the city. Now, illness is one of those things that you tend to shake off; its frequency makes it more of an inconvenience than an event, kinda like waiting in line at the bank. And this one was like many others: super high fever, stomach cramps, diarrhea, total body aches, delusions, etc. The next day I was still hurtin', but determined not to let it slow me down, I went to the mall with Crystal.
I was still miserable with a temperature, stomach problems, and a pounding migraine, yet determined to continue with my plans. The mall is the place for the moneyed class in Honduras to hangout, just walking around the mall dictates a certain social eliteness that most Hondurans could never dream of achieving. Now, this next part is a little delicate, and perhaps reveals more about myself than I would like, so bear with me. Let’s just say that an unknown symptom of whatever terrible illness I was harboring was random and spontaneous defecation. More bluntly, I was so sick that I soiled myself while at the mall.
Fortunately, this is an incident where I can mentally insulate myself with the cause of illness, but it remains a harrowing and embarrassing event; the “going to school naked” dream has nothing on this reality. And surrounded by the crème de crème of Honduras didn't make things easy, either. Given the circumstances, I handled it well; I went the bathroom and cleaned up, and concealed my shame, and then we beat tracks for the hotel. Crystal was extremely supportive during this ordeal, although she has not stopped laughing uncontrollably since. Today I had some tests done, we’ll find out tomorrow what illness causes this, and then I will start a foundation to fight it internationally.
Once again, this life is all about resilience, you learn to deal with aches and illnesses that would normally confine you to bed, you learn to deal with situations that would normally force you to move to a new town and start a new life. Finding the personal strength to deal with whatever comes your way validates your need to walk around the mall with a sweatshirt tied around your waist. Sometimes personal growth means public embarrassment.
simon
The same goes for injuries; the lifestyle here tends to be coarse and physical, the landscape rugged and sometimes resistant to human improvements like roads or stairs. In short, if you gotta move a bag of cement, you sling it over your shoulder and head off on your way. Injuries and illnesses come and go down here, and this week we got a visit from each.
Crystal was doing some exercises at the house last week when she heard something crack in her neck. Later, she turned her head to do something and fell over, not understanding what had just happened. After the local doctor recommended some injections for an obviously non-injectable condition, pc decided to send her to Tegucigalpa to visit a neurosurgeon. The problem was traced back to a rather severe car accident that Crystal had when she was sixteen, which had caused two of her vertebrae to become pinched together over the years.
The treatment was a week’s course of massages (the good) along with electroshock therapy (the bad). Since she was stuck in Tegucigalpa for a week, and being the supportive husband that I am, I came down to help her out. The allure of international cuisine and free hotel rooms playing a minor role in my decision making process.
But, as irony would have it, I became violently ill mere hours after getting into the city. Now, illness is one of those things that you tend to shake off; its frequency makes it more of an inconvenience than an event, kinda like waiting in line at the bank. And this one was like many others: super high fever, stomach cramps, diarrhea, total body aches, delusions, etc. The next day I was still hurtin', but determined not to let it slow me down, I went to the mall with Crystal.
I was still miserable with a temperature, stomach problems, and a pounding migraine, yet determined to continue with my plans. The mall is the place for the moneyed class in Honduras to hangout, just walking around the mall dictates a certain social eliteness that most Hondurans could never dream of achieving. Now, this next part is a little delicate, and perhaps reveals more about myself than I would like, so bear with me. Let’s just say that an unknown symptom of whatever terrible illness I was harboring was random and spontaneous defecation. More bluntly, I was so sick that I soiled myself while at the mall.
Fortunately, this is an incident where I can mentally insulate myself with the cause of illness, but it remains a harrowing and embarrassing event; the “going to school naked” dream has nothing on this reality. And surrounded by the crème de crème of Honduras didn't make things easy, either. Given the circumstances, I handled it well; I went the bathroom and cleaned up, and concealed my shame, and then we beat tracks for the hotel. Crystal was extremely supportive during this ordeal, although she has not stopped laughing uncontrollably since. Today I had some tests done, we’ll find out tomorrow what illness causes this, and then I will start a foundation to fight it internationally.
Once again, this life is all about resilience, you learn to deal with aches and illnesses that would normally confine you to bed, you learn to deal with situations that would normally force you to move to a new town and start a new life. Finding the personal strength to deal with whatever comes your way validates your need to walk around the mall with a sweatshirt tied around your waist. Sometimes personal growth means public embarrassment.
simon
Thursday, December 7, 2006
Don´t Call it a Comeback....
Unless comeback means that we are coming home for Christmas, cuz that is exactly what is happening....
Thats right folks! Simon and Crystal are heading back to the great white north for a limited engagement! Gather your sandwiches, your finely crafted midwestern microbrews, and be prepared to shower us with gifts and affection, as we may be coming to a city near you!
Here is the deal: We will be flying into Minneapolis on December 19th at midnight, and will be staying until we return to Honduras in the wee hours of January 4th. My little sister Amanda is getting married on December 22nd, and we will probably be in Minnesota until the 23rd where we will head to Wisconsin for a while, and then we will spend a couple more days in Minnesota before we take off. We will split our time between states evenly, giving you all equal opportunites to bask in our altruistic glow. we might not have time to see everybody but we will do our darnest. Besides, you dont miss us that much, do ya?
We greatly look forward to a break from Honduras, and a chance to experience subzero windchills and christmas carols, two hearted ales and seven layer bars. I quiver with excitement as i think about it...
Those with specific questions about our schedule feel free to drop us an email or leave a comment on the blog, otherwise we shall be seeing you very soon!
simon
Thats right folks! Simon and Crystal are heading back to the great white north for a limited engagement! Gather your sandwiches, your finely crafted midwestern microbrews, and be prepared to shower us with gifts and affection, as we may be coming to a city near you!
Here is the deal: We will be flying into Minneapolis on December 19th at midnight, and will be staying until we return to Honduras in the wee hours of January 4th. My little sister Amanda is getting married on December 22nd, and we will probably be in Minnesota until the 23rd where we will head to Wisconsin for a while, and then we will spend a couple more days in Minnesota before we take off. We will split our time between states evenly, giving you all equal opportunites to bask in our altruistic glow. we might not have time to see everybody but we will do our darnest. Besides, you dont miss us that much, do ya?
We greatly look forward to a break from Honduras, and a chance to experience subzero windchills and christmas carols, two hearted ales and seven layer bars. I quiver with excitement as i think about it...
Those with specific questions about our schedule feel free to drop us an email or leave a comment on the blog, otherwise we shall be seeing you very soon!
simon
Saturday, November 18, 2006
La Violencia
This may or may not come as a shock to some of you, but Honduras can be a dangerous place. Check out the following stats that we received in an email today:
According to the World Health Organization (WHO) world average is 8.8 deaths due to violence per 100,000 habitants.
The American continent average is 19.3 per 100,000 habitants. (stats from 2000)This first semester Honduras registered 23.1 deaths per 100, 000 habitants or 8.4 every day (a person dies every 3 hours due to violence in Honduras)
A projection from this study indicates that if current criminal tendencies continue, Honduras may have 46 deaths for every 100,000 habitants at the end of the year.
As a comparison (I could be wrong about this figure) but if I recall correct, Washington DC, has the heights crime rate in the USA, which is 11 deaths per 100 thousand habitants.
Like most areas of the world that are undergoing development, Honduras is experiencing a rapid urbanization process. People leave the countryside in search of work in the city, but lack the basic means to support themselves as the search for work in this highly competitive environment. This naturally leads to the creation of slums, and a rise in crime as people try to satisfy their needs and wants. Sadly, this has recently taken the form of gangs, which informal speculation in Honduras has reported as somewhere between six and ten times larger than the police force in terms of members. As a result, Honduras has two of the top five most dangerous cities in Central America.
Now before the greater Western Wisconsin/ Minneapolis Metro area comes down here with wedges of cheese and hockey sticks to protect us, allow me to qualify these statistics and information. These violent crimes are found predominantly in the cities, predominantly at night, and usually in areas that we have never seen due to their reputations. Random violence does happen, but we have been pretty lucky to have had only one minor incident thus far, involving a knife fight between a guy driving our taxi and some random guy. Living in a rural city insulates us greatly from these problems, as well as common sense when we are going into the city for business or pleasure. We fortunately have the options to avoid these areas if we choose, but there are many people who don’t have that choice and it sadly becomes their reality. Despite the many problems facing this country, the lack of security in Honduras is perhaps the biggest obstacle that they face in terms of reaching their goal of being a safe and productive society.
This is just another example in a long list of reasons that I´m starting to appreciate the United States more in terms of a place to live and grow up. I still feel that our culture can be obnoxious and trite, our public can be uninterested and passive to issues that affect their lives, our chosen leaders can be disconnected to realities and centered in self interest. But we have basic security, a positive outlook towards the future and the unknown, relative equality and opportunity, and the ever present appreciation of creativity and ingenuity. There is still some allure left in the American Dream.
According to the World Health Organization (WHO) world average is 8.8 deaths due to violence per 100,000 habitants.
The American continent average is 19.3 per 100,000 habitants. (stats from 2000)This first semester Honduras registered 23.1 deaths per 100, 000 habitants or 8.4 every day (a person dies every 3 hours due to violence in Honduras)
A projection from this study indicates that if current criminal tendencies continue, Honduras may have 46 deaths for every 100,000 habitants at the end of the year.
As a comparison (I could be wrong about this figure) but if I recall correct, Washington DC, has the heights crime rate in the USA, which is 11 deaths per 100 thousand habitants.
Like most areas of the world that are undergoing development, Honduras is experiencing a rapid urbanization process. People leave the countryside in search of work in the city, but lack the basic means to support themselves as the search for work in this highly competitive environment. This naturally leads to the creation of slums, and a rise in crime as people try to satisfy their needs and wants. Sadly, this has recently taken the form of gangs, which informal speculation in Honduras has reported as somewhere between six and ten times larger than the police force in terms of members. As a result, Honduras has two of the top five most dangerous cities in Central America.
Now before the greater Western Wisconsin/ Minneapolis Metro area comes down here with wedges of cheese and hockey sticks to protect us, allow me to qualify these statistics and information. These violent crimes are found predominantly in the cities, predominantly at night, and usually in areas that we have never seen due to their reputations. Random violence does happen, but we have been pretty lucky to have had only one minor incident thus far, involving a knife fight between a guy driving our taxi and some random guy. Living in a rural city insulates us greatly from these problems, as well as common sense when we are going into the city for business or pleasure. We fortunately have the options to avoid these areas if we choose, but there are many people who don’t have that choice and it sadly becomes their reality. Despite the many problems facing this country, the lack of security in Honduras is perhaps the biggest obstacle that they face in terms of reaching their goal of being a safe and productive society.
This is just another example in a long list of reasons that I´m starting to appreciate the United States more in terms of a place to live and grow up. I still feel that our culture can be obnoxious and trite, our public can be uninterested and passive to issues that affect their lives, our chosen leaders can be disconnected to realities and centered in self interest. But we have basic security, a positive outlook towards the future and the unknown, relative equality and opportunity, and the ever present appreciation of creativity and ingenuity. There is still some allure left in the American Dream.
Tuesday, November 7, 2006
Music speaks all languages
A few weeks ago while I was practicing guitar, our five year old neighbor showed up in the doorway of our livingroom with his little guitar, wanting to partake in a little jam session.
Take me out to the ball game
Here`s the team. The Las Vegas/El Mochito Mineros (miners).
William playing some serious Right Field.
Playing our first game against Cerro Azul (Jeremy`s team).
Thursday, October 12, 2006
The Meaning of Success
A while back, we got a phone call from our boss about a special project. Apparently, Major League Baseball was planning to send out a professional baseball player to act as an ambassador for the game and to give seminars to the rural teams in Honduras. All the details that she had at the time was that he was originally from the Dominican Republic and that his last name was Sosa. This of course filled my head with visions of Sammy Sosa and I having a Home Run Derby in the shadows of our mountain, and him teaching me that little ¨kiss hand, touch heart, kiss hand, touch heart; point to God¨ sequence that he does. Thus we were a little disappointed when it turned out to be Elias Sosa, a pitcher for various teams during the 70´s and 80s. Along with the Honduran Federation of Baseball president, Mr. Sosa arrived in Las Vegas this morning.
Despite our initial disappointments, we had a fabulous time today with Mr. Sosa. He arrived in Las Vegas and spoke to one of our elementary schools about the importance of self esteem, hard work, and following dreams. In previous stops around Honduras, he had given this speech to groups numbering in the tens of kids; today more than 300 students gathered for this event. He spoke about how he was taught how to play baseball from two Peace Corps Volunteers in the D.R. that lived across the street from him, and how it paved the path to his success, and how that spirit of involvement with youth led him to his current role with the MLB today. After the speech, he was given a little trinket to remember Las Vegas, and was erroneously called Sammy Sosa many times by excited students whom were excited to meet anybody, let alone a ¨famous player¨ of a sport that they don’t understand. Afterwards we had practice with our team, where finally somebody with the technical knowledge and the ability to explain that knowledge in Spanish was able to take the reins for a while. Having always loved baseball, it was a geeky pleasure of mine to catch for a former pro pitcher, and later he taught me how to throw a curveball, with limited success.
Life in Vegas has been kinda difficult as of late, as sometimes the life of a volunteer is completely relentless in its demands, thankless, and frustrating. The past month or so has represented a low mark in our time here, as these frustrations have boiled to the surface a couple of times, and has tested our resolve and patience in ways that we hadn’t anticipated. Strangely enough, it has been our baseball team on countless occasions that has helped us navigate those rocky waters, and has put everything back into perspective. Success is extremely hard to measure here sometimes; traditional benchmarks do not always apply. Tangible products rarely exist, and sometimes you appreciate the insignificant shared pleasures of life that you are allowed to share with humanity as your true contribution to the human condition. Sometimes success is a day where you spend a couple hours listening to the dull smack of a baseball hitting your glove.
Today was one of those days.
Simon
Despite our initial disappointments, we had a fabulous time today with Mr. Sosa. He arrived in Las Vegas and spoke to one of our elementary schools about the importance of self esteem, hard work, and following dreams. In previous stops around Honduras, he had given this speech to groups numbering in the tens of kids; today more than 300 students gathered for this event. He spoke about how he was taught how to play baseball from two Peace Corps Volunteers in the D.R. that lived across the street from him, and how it paved the path to his success, and how that spirit of involvement with youth led him to his current role with the MLB today. After the speech, he was given a little trinket to remember Las Vegas, and was erroneously called Sammy Sosa many times by excited students whom were excited to meet anybody, let alone a ¨famous player¨ of a sport that they don’t understand. Afterwards we had practice with our team, where finally somebody with the technical knowledge and the ability to explain that knowledge in Spanish was able to take the reins for a while. Having always loved baseball, it was a geeky pleasure of mine to catch for a former pro pitcher, and later he taught me how to throw a curveball, with limited success.
Life in Vegas has been kinda difficult as of late, as sometimes the life of a volunteer is completely relentless in its demands, thankless, and frustrating. The past month or so has represented a low mark in our time here, as these frustrations have boiled to the surface a couple of times, and has tested our resolve and patience in ways that we hadn’t anticipated. Strangely enough, it has been our baseball team on countless occasions that has helped us navigate those rocky waters, and has put everything back into perspective. Success is extremely hard to measure here sometimes; traditional benchmarks do not always apply. Tangible products rarely exist, and sometimes you appreciate the insignificant shared pleasures of life that you are allowed to share with humanity as your true contribution to the human condition. Sometimes success is a day where you spend a couple hours listening to the dull smack of a baseball hitting your glove.
Today was one of those days.
Simon
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Guatemala
Remember us saying something about a trip to Guatemala? And then never blogging about it? Well, here is the long overdue recap:
Our friend Ben was down for about two weeks in August, and he came to visit at a perfect time. In the first week of August, the nation’s teachers declared a strike which ended classes, and effectively destroyed all of our current projects in the process, or at least put them on hold until classes restarted. Nobody really knew when classes were going to resume, and there was wide speculation that the strike would last until the end of the school year in November. This also coincided with our need to shake things up a little, as we were both hitting a burnout stage in our work and desperately needed a change of scenery to recharge the batteries. Neither of us had left Vegas in months, and the strain was starting to show.
We decided to take some vacation time and to go visit neighboring Guatemala, and it was, in a word, fantastic. Perhaps it was the fact that we had been in Honduras for almost a solid year without leaving the country, and needed to get back to our travelin, ramblin´ways, perhaps it was presence of the predominant ethnic groups wearing traditional dress and speaking in indigenous tongues, perhaps it was the fact that you could buy beer in liters. Whatever it was, we instantly fell in love with Guatemala as soon as we crossed the border.
For the first part of our trip, we took Ben to visit the Mayan ruins at Copan which are in Honduras, but used to be the easternmost part of Guatemala prior to the area’s declaration as Honduran territory. These ruins were discovered after the border relocation; much to the chagrin of the Chapins (nickname for Guatemaltecans) I’m sure. Copan boasts lush green foliage combined with ancient dwellings, and scarlet macaws flying all over the place. From there we took a van to Antigua, Guatemala, a tourist hotspot for its European appearance, a result from Antigua’s importance as a colonial center during the Spanish involvement in Guatemala. Located in a deep valley surround by three volcanoes, the city and its surroundings are stunning, my like what we anticipated from Latin America before our arrival. We spent a couple days wandering the cobblestone streets, noshing on Antigua’s international cuisine, and browsing the many markets that offer hand-woven handicrafts, pottery, and woodcarvings. We also had the chance to go out and participate in some nightlife, which is usually impossible in our town which shuts down at nine. From Antigua, we took a little trip to Lago de Atitlán, a large lake surrounded by yet more volcanoes in the highlands. The lake is ringed by five villages, each with its own store of ethnic crafts and culture.
The most striking aspect of Guatemala was the people, who are extremely helpful, polite, and cheerful, and who are more laid back than most Hondurans. One would not expect to find such a drastic change in attitude, demeanor, and worldview less than hundreds of miles away from where we live, but the experience left a mark upon us displaying the true influence of indigenous culture upon a group of people. The interactions that I hoped to make while in Central America have occurred more in Guatemala thus far than in Honduras. We can’t wait to get back, hopefully soon.
The first day that we got back from Guatemala and back to Las Vegas (after 15 straight hours of bus travel) somebody broke into our house and robbed us. We assume that they broke in looking for Ben’s camera, (which was pretty spiffy) and in the process stole our cell phone, crystal’s camera, and my shoes. As anyone who has gone through this can contest, we felt violated and upset, as well as disappointed. However, these things happen, and there is not a whole lot that can now be done about it now. As a result, we have switched houses for the third time, and we now reside in a much more secure house in a better part of town. After the break-in, we took a quick trip to the north coast of Honduras, where Ben got to log in some beach and jungle time on the beaches of Tela. A couple days later Ben was back in Minnesota and with the end of the teacher´s strike we were back to work.
Our friend Ben was down for about two weeks in August, and he came to visit at a perfect time. In the first week of August, the nation’s teachers declared a strike which ended classes, and effectively destroyed all of our current projects in the process, or at least put them on hold until classes restarted. Nobody really knew when classes were going to resume, and there was wide speculation that the strike would last until the end of the school year in November. This also coincided with our need to shake things up a little, as we were both hitting a burnout stage in our work and desperately needed a change of scenery to recharge the batteries. Neither of us had left Vegas in months, and the strain was starting to show.
We decided to take some vacation time and to go visit neighboring Guatemala, and it was, in a word, fantastic. Perhaps it was the fact that we had been in Honduras for almost a solid year without leaving the country, and needed to get back to our travelin, ramblin´ways, perhaps it was presence of the predominant ethnic groups wearing traditional dress and speaking in indigenous tongues, perhaps it was the fact that you could buy beer in liters. Whatever it was, we instantly fell in love with Guatemala as soon as we crossed the border.
For the first part of our trip, we took Ben to visit the Mayan ruins at Copan which are in Honduras, but used to be the easternmost part of Guatemala prior to the area’s declaration as Honduran territory. These ruins were discovered after the border relocation; much to the chagrin of the Chapins (nickname for Guatemaltecans) I’m sure. Copan boasts lush green foliage combined with ancient dwellings, and scarlet macaws flying all over the place. From there we took a van to Antigua, Guatemala, a tourist hotspot for its European appearance, a result from Antigua’s importance as a colonial center during the Spanish involvement in Guatemala. Located in a deep valley surround by three volcanoes, the city and its surroundings are stunning, my like what we anticipated from Latin America before our arrival. We spent a couple days wandering the cobblestone streets, noshing on Antigua’s international cuisine, and browsing the many markets that offer hand-woven handicrafts, pottery, and woodcarvings. We also had the chance to go out and participate in some nightlife, which is usually impossible in our town which shuts down at nine. From Antigua, we took a little trip to Lago de Atitlán, a large lake surrounded by yet more volcanoes in the highlands. The lake is ringed by five villages, each with its own store of ethnic crafts and culture.
The most striking aspect of Guatemala was the people, who are extremely helpful, polite, and cheerful, and who are more laid back than most Hondurans. One would not expect to find such a drastic change in attitude, demeanor, and worldview less than hundreds of miles away from where we live, but the experience left a mark upon us displaying the true influence of indigenous culture upon a group of people. The interactions that I hoped to make while in Central America have occurred more in Guatemala thus far than in Honduras. We can’t wait to get back, hopefully soon.
The first day that we got back from Guatemala and back to Las Vegas (after 15 straight hours of bus travel) somebody broke into our house and robbed us. We assume that they broke in looking for Ben’s camera, (which was pretty spiffy) and in the process stole our cell phone, crystal’s camera, and my shoes. As anyone who has gone through this can contest, we felt violated and upset, as well as disappointed. However, these things happen, and there is not a whole lot that can now be done about it now. As a result, we have switched houses for the third time, and we now reside in a much more secure house in a better part of town. After the break-in, we took a quick trip to the north coast of Honduras, where Ben got to log in some beach and jungle time on the beaches of Tela. A couple days later Ben was back in Minnesota and with the end of the teacher´s strike we were back to work.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
more pics
Here she is! Honduras was just too lonely without a dog around, and after missing Lucy, we decided to try it again.
This is Stella ( or Estéla). She is an 8 week old purebred Rottweiler that our PM was nice enough to find for us! Don´t worry, she´s harmless. She is the calmest puppy we have ever met.
And this is what it looks like on a cloudy day from the top of our mountain, above the clouds! If you could see down below, you would see our village. (pic: Los Andes, SB)
Thursday, September 14, 2006
September 15th. Independence Day.
And this morning our band marched in their first parade. It was also this morning when I was informed that the verb I had been using to tell the kids we are going to march (afilar) actually means ¨to sharpen¨. Like a knife. I had been telling the kids we are going to sharpen for months now. In the case someone needs the correct verb, ¨to march¨ is ¨desfilar¨. It must be admitted, they were pretty darn cute. Our little bell player, who was going through sensory overload, forgot all her songs but one, the most annoying one. She played it for over 2 hours while in a daze.
We`ll post some pictures when we got a chance. It went quite well, and we have one parade left, tonight, up the mountain in our aldea called El Mochito.
We`ll post some pictures when we got a chance. It went quite well, and we have one parade left, tonight, up the mountain in our aldea called El Mochito.
Friday, September 8, 2006
The Youth in Asia and other tales
First story: Its been an interesting week, to say the least.On Monday morning, we took Lucy to the vet in Villanueva, a suburb of San Pedro Sula. Her neck has been all inflamed and weird lately, and we decided that it was time to get some x-rays. On Tuesday, Crystal went up to the vet to pick her up, but came back alone. As soon as I asked her were Lucy was, then saw her blotchy eyes, I had my answer. It turned out that Lucy had some rare form of bone disease that could not be fixed and that was causing her a lot of pain, therefore we had to put her down. Along with being sad, it was really frustrating, as we took excellent care of her, but just couldn’t beat genetics. The house has been really sad and lonely this week without her. Losing a pet is always like losing a member of the family, which in many ways, Lucy was for us.
Second story: Our town has a series of children whom subsist as street beggars. This isn’t done out of boredom, but out of need to survive, and it is often a difficult encounter, as we always want to help, but lack the means to do so in a fashion that is productive and healthy. Yesterday, on the way to baseball practice, one of our street children asked me for shoes, which I really can’t provide (my own shoes having been stolen the previous month aside, but more on that another time). Instead, I allowed him to tag along to baseball practice, where he had a great time playing with the other kids and chasing after balls. Actually, he can throw pretty well! It was nice to finally offer something to what must be a real dismal existence. Today he saw us walking in the street, and gave each of us a piece of candy, which was a touching and appreciated display.
Third Story: Today is our municipality’s (which is pretty much the equivalent of a county government) anniversary, and in accordance there are a bunch of celebrations today. We were invited to a luncheon held by the mayor, and were presented with an odd situation that has happened a couple of times. These events come up from time to time, and we always show up wearing t-shirts and ripped jeans, and end up talking with the real brass of the community, each wearing designer suits and jewellery. The rest of the community was treated to free plates of beans and rice in the central park, while the community elite ( and by our position as peace corps volunteers, us) were whisked off to a lunch of filet minion. Being as sensitive to social-economic class as we are, these little lunches always make us feel out of place and a little self conscious, as they lare bare the drastic differences in class as found in the developing world. Truth be told, we have much more in common with the people that were at the steak dinner in terms of mentality, backgrounds, and aspirations; but we tend to feel more comfortable with the crowd that eat with their hands on the street, even if they have never read a book or don´t appreciate our different views.
sorry that we have been slacking off on the posts lately, we will try to get back on top of this blog business. Blogs are kinda wierd, in that you always evaluate the ¨blogability¨of your experiences, and that makes it a little harder when you have no idea whom is reading your ramblings. Granted, we have a lot of stuff to talk about, like getting robbed, moving houses, and our trip to Guatemala, but those will come another day soon....
simon
Second story: Our town has a series of children whom subsist as street beggars. This isn’t done out of boredom, but out of need to survive, and it is often a difficult encounter, as we always want to help, but lack the means to do so in a fashion that is productive and healthy. Yesterday, on the way to baseball practice, one of our street children asked me for shoes, which I really can’t provide (my own shoes having been stolen the previous month aside, but more on that another time). Instead, I allowed him to tag along to baseball practice, where he had a great time playing with the other kids and chasing after balls. Actually, he can throw pretty well! It was nice to finally offer something to what must be a real dismal existence. Today he saw us walking in the street, and gave each of us a piece of candy, which was a touching and appreciated display.
Third Story: Today is our municipality’s (which is pretty much the equivalent of a county government) anniversary, and in accordance there are a bunch of celebrations today. We were invited to a luncheon held by the mayor, and were presented with an odd situation that has happened a couple of times. These events come up from time to time, and we always show up wearing t-shirts and ripped jeans, and end up talking with the real brass of the community, each wearing designer suits and jewellery. The rest of the community was treated to free plates of beans and rice in the central park, while the community elite ( and by our position as peace corps volunteers, us) were whisked off to a lunch of filet minion. Being as sensitive to social-economic class as we are, these little lunches always make us feel out of place and a little self conscious, as they lare bare the drastic differences in class as found in the developing world. Truth be told, we have much more in common with the people that were at the steak dinner in terms of mentality, backgrounds, and aspirations; but we tend to feel more comfortable with the crowd that eat with their hands on the street, even if they have never read a book or don´t appreciate our different views.
sorry that we have been slacking off on the posts lately, we will try to get back on top of this blog business. Blogs are kinda wierd, in that you always evaluate the ¨blogability¨of your experiences, and that makes it a little harder when you have no idea whom is reading your ramblings. Granted, we have a lot of stuff to talk about, like getting robbed, moving houses, and our trip to Guatemala, but those will come another day soon....
simon
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Viva Las Vegas
So after a small hiatus, I´ve started taking pictures again.
This is one of the roads to our house.
This is one of the roads to our house.
This is Pulanpanzak waterfall, the largest in the country. It´s not in Las Vegas, but it´s nearby. Swimming behind it is the best part!
This is the center of Vegas. The mountain in the back is Montaña de Santa Bárbara, the second highest peak in the country. Our old house is the one under the light post.
Oh, and last night, we saw stars for the first time in 5 months. 5 months! They were great.
Goodnight, then.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Honducam
1. This is the view from our bus seat one day. Here is an idea of what the roads are like here. This one is especially good...it´s paved. (picture: Yorito, Yoro)
2. Here´s our stove! Actually it belongs to our 70 some year old landlady, Doña Clementina. This is a fogròn (sp?). She bakes everything in here. They work pretty good!
3. This is sleepy Lucy. She is pretty much worthless. She doesn´t gaurd anything. She doesn´t bark at theives. She begs for beans and tortillas (why? Who knows), but she´s good company on those long honduran days.
Monday, July 3, 2006
The In Crowd
One of my favorite things about living in Honduras is that it’s kinda like living in a movie, as you never know what is going to be around the corner, and you always end up being the star of the oddest situations.
Last night we were riding our bikes home from dinner when I needed to stop by the pulpería for some breakfast stuff for the next morning. Pulperías are a staple of the Honduran local economy, they are pretty much corner stores that one finds scattered all over the place. The range in size from an extra room in someone’s house where they sell a scarce and odd selection of consumer goods to a miniature supermarket (hence my favorite local oxymoron, ¨the mini-super¨) with a variety of products assembled together that transcends any designation of complimentary goods. They also function as local areas of congregation, where the patrons of that specific pulpería (everyone has a particular pulpería that they prefer) gather to gossip and socialize. We tend to bounce around town to different pulperías, as we are not bound by this rigid social custom, and each one tends to have one or two things that you can’t find anywhere else in town.
It is with this context that I rolled into the pulpería down the street from our house last night, known amongst Crystal and I to be a goldmine of certain items that they always have, for Crystal this means bananas, for me this means tons of random rock hits from bands like Blondie on the stereo. Last night there was a group of men hanging out having drinks in the pulpería that had the gruff appearance of people that one would not generally want to pick a fight with, nor ask for personal hygiene advice. I tend to avoid these people in regular circumstances, as I oft find that we have drastically different worldviews, and because I am a coward. However last night that option was removed as I drew a lot of attention by being the only gringo in the place at that time, and they literally backed me into a corner near the nonfunctioning standup arcade machine and began to practice their single lines of English on me. A reasonable comparison would be to walk into a bar looking for change for the meter and find yourself surround by Hells Angels.
We had a conversation that hit on many points of interest, ranging from sports to local economics, to international politics to music. At first I was concerned that this was all a well organized plot to steal my bike which was parked outside, but I gradually realized that this cultural exchange was in earnest, and that my bike was safely absorbing rain. I soon realized that they all were huge fans of rock music, as opposed to the other half of young Hondurans that prefer reggaetón. All of a sudden they started pulling scraps of paper out of their wallets and asking me to translate the titles of songs by the likes of Green Day and Ozzy Osborne which they had written phonetically in Spanish. It also became apparent that they all loved the band Coldplay, especially for their ¨beautiful music.¨ At this point, the guy behind the counter threw on ¨A Rush of Blood to the Head¨, Coldplay´s second album, and they all looked to me to do some simultaneous translation of the lyrics into Spanish. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by every roughneck in the joint, and we all sang the first half of the album together. A reasonable comparison would be to walk into a bar looking for change for the meter, being surrounded by the Hells Angels, and then singing show tunes together.
This went on for an hour and a half before I managed to concoct a weak excuse to leave using the rain and the hour as an excuse. They quickly pointed out that I only lived three houses away, roundly refuting my weak argument; yet I managed to leave eventually. I promised that I would return to pick up where we left off in the near future, and the next time I wander in to find these guys, I fully expect to be received with open arms and additional scraps of paper.
Last night we were riding our bikes home from dinner when I needed to stop by the pulpería for some breakfast stuff for the next morning. Pulperías are a staple of the Honduran local economy, they are pretty much corner stores that one finds scattered all over the place. The range in size from an extra room in someone’s house where they sell a scarce and odd selection of consumer goods to a miniature supermarket (hence my favorite local oxymoron, ¨the mini-super¨) with a variety of products assembled together that transcends any designation of complimentary goods. They also function as local areas of congregation, where the patrons of that specific pulpería (everyone has a particular pulpería that they prefer) gather to gossip and socialize. We tend to bounce around town to different pulperías, as we are not bound by this rigid social custom, and each one tends to have one or two things that you can’t find anywhere else in town.
It is with this context that I rolled into the pulpería down the street from our house last night, known amongst Crystal and I to be a goldmine of certain items that they always have, for Crystal this means bananas, for me this means tons of random rock hits from bands like Blondie on the stereo. Last night there was a group of men hanging out having drinks in the pulpería that had the gruff appearance of people that one would not generally want to pick a fight with, nor ask for personal hygiene advice. I tend to avoid these people in regular circumstances, as I oft find that we have drastically different worldviews, and because I am a coward. However last night that option was removed as I drew a lot of attention by being the only gringo in the place at that time, and they literally backed me into a corner near the nonfunctioning standup arcade machine and began to practice their single lines of English on me. A reasonable comparison would be to walk into a bar looking for change for the meter and find yourself surround by Hells Angels.
We had a conversation that hit on many points of interest, ranging from sports to local economics, to international politics to music. At first I was concerned that this was all a well organized plot to steal my bike which was parked outside, but I gradually realized that this cultural exchange was in earnest, and that my bike was safely absorbing rain. I soon realized that they all were huge fans of rock music, as opposed to the other half of young Hondurans that prefer reggaetón. All of a sudden they started pulling scraps of paper out of their wallets and asking me to translate the titles of songs by the likes of Green Day and Ozzy Osborne which they had written phonetically in Spanish. It also became apparent that they all loved the band Coldplay, especially for their ¨beautiful music.¨ At this point, the guy behind the counter threw on ¨A Rush of Blood to the Head¨, Coldplay´s second album, and they all looked to me to do some simultaneous translation of the lyrics into Spanish. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by every roughneck in the joint, and we all sang the first half of the album together. A reasonable comparison would be to walk into a bar looking for change for the meter, being surrounded by the Hells Angels, and then singing show tunes together.
This went on for an hour and a half before I managed to concoct a weak excuse to leave using the rain and the hour as an excuse. They quickly pointed out that I only lived three houses away, roundly refuting my weak argument; yet I managed to leave eventually. I promised that I would return to pick up where we left off in the near future, and the next time I wander in to find these guys, I fully expect to be received with open arms and additional scraps of paper.
Sunday, July 2, 2006
Sopa de Mondongo...que rico...
...or not at all.
´Sopa de Mondongo´ sounded a little strange the first time it introduced to us. Upon learning what it is, it was no longer strange or weird, but downright absurd. Sopa de Mondongo means ¨cow guts soup.¨
It´s been almost 10 months since arriving to Honduras. It's begun to feel like home for us, and is becoming comfortable. Still, throughout this time, Sopa de mondongo has been one of those culturally Honduran foods that makes us uncomfortable, and the Hondurans think this is hilarious. Here are some excuses I've used around town to avoid having to eat these yucky cow guts in vegetable broth:
1. Sorry, I´m allergic to mondongo soup.
2. I´m a vegetarian (which doesn´t always work here because if somebody poor offers you something to eat, it means they´ve spent their money on you and it would be rude to turn it down, but sometimes they just laugh and it does work because they are not poor, so depending on the situation, this line can be used successfully. Use with discretion.)
3. Oh, I already ate.
4. Sorry- I would but it´s against my religion.
5. I already made and ate 3 bowls in my house.
Most of these work well. However, yesterday the fates were against us. I walked home to find our duena (land lady), Dona Clementina, cutting up cow legs and stomachs and boiling them in our back yard. We ignored what was going on- pretending it was a normal occurence. Then she asked Simon to help her chop the legs apart with her machete. I took pictures and will try to post some later.
In the evening, she suprized us with a big bowl of the said soup. Rico (meaning rich, delicious, wonderful...everything good here) was not what this soup was. I asked her if we could eat it in our house and she said ´sure.´ I ran with the bowl to our kitchen and we stared at it for awhile on the table.
¨It doesn´t smell very rico,¨said Simon. After finding 2 pieces of cow stomach and a knee with all ligaments attached, we fed it to the dog. She loved it.
Now, please understand that our land lady/neighbor is a great cook and I´m sure the soup was, indeed, rico. On Sundays she sits outside her house with a giant vat of the popular gut broth, selling it for 10 lempiras a bowl. Families will send the little ones to buy 10 bowls for lunch (one for everyone in the family). This is a special treat for Sunday lunch here, and Dona Clementina makes bank in the process. So--I know it has to be some of the best in town.
We just couldn´t do it. There's not a lot more I can say about it, but, well, oh well....we´re not eating it.
C
´Sopa de Mondongo´ sounded a little strange the first time it introduced to us. Upon learning what it is, it was no longer strange or weird, but downright absurd. Sopa de Mondongo means ¨cow guts soup.¨
It´s been almost 10 months since arriving to Honduras. It's begun to feel like home for us, and is becoming comfortable. Still, throughout this time, Sopa de mondongo has been one of those culturally Honduran foods that makes us uncomfortable, and the Hondurans think this is hilarious. Here are some excuses I've used around town to avoid having to eat these yucky cow guts in vegetable broth:
1. Sorry, I´m allergic to mondongo soup.
2. I´m a vegetarian (which doesn´t always work here because if somebody poor offers you something to eat, it means they´ve spent their money on you and it would be rude to turn it down, but sometimes they just laugh and it does work because they are not poor, so depending on the situation, this line can be used successfully. Use with discretion.)
3. Oh, I already ate.
4. Sorry- I would but it´s against my religion.
5. I already made and ate 3 bowls in my house.
Most of these work well. However, yesterday the fates were against us. I walked home to find our duena (land lady), Dona Clementina, cutting up cow legs and stomachs and boiling them in our back yard. We ignored what was going on- pretending it was a normal occurence. Then she asked Simon to help her chop the legs apart with her machete. I took pictures and will try to post some later.
In the evening, she suprized us with a big bowl of the said soup. Rico (meaning rich, delicious, wonderful...everything good here) was not what this soup was. I asked her if we could eat it in our house and she said ´sure.´ I ran with the bowl to our kitchen and we stared at it for awhile on the table.
¨It doesn´t smell very rico,¨said Simon. After finding 2 pieces of cow stomach and a knee with all ligaments attached, we fed it to the dog. She loved it.
Now, please understand that our land lady/neighbor is a great cook and I´m sure the soup was, indeed, rico. On Sundays she sits outside her house with a giant vat of the popular gut broth, selling it for 10 lempiras a bowl. Families will send the little ones to buy 10 bowls for lunch (one for everyone in the family). This is a special treat for Sunday lunch here, and Dona Clementina makes bank in the process. So--I know it has to be some of the best in town.
We just couldn´t do it. There's not a lot more I can say about it, but, well, oh well....we´re not eating it.
C
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Satori in Honduras
Just as the torrential daily downpours were striking our modest Honduran abode yesterday, I was curling up with a book in the hammock. This particular book was a Peace Corps publication from back in the day (early 1990s I think) where former volunteers write stories and antidotes regarding their service as volunteers. As I read page after page of stunning descriptions of volunteer life in Africa, Asia, and Latin America in time periods ranging from the early formative days of the Peace Corps experiment until the early 1990s, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy that colored my mood for the rest of the evening. The rest of the night I turned over the collective experiences of the authors and compared them to our current lives, and I felt like we are coming up a little short.
Before I confuse the issue, let me explain myself further. Envy is a tricky word that might give you the impression that something is currently ¨wrong¨ with our service. Nothing is actually farther from the truth. My sense of envy is not related to our geographical position which is ideal, nor our work which is perfect (music and baseball are officially our jobs now) nor Honduras, for which I grow more fond daily. In fact, really the only issue that I could find is time. Having always looked for a way to revisit life in the states before it started sprawling out of control, I assumed that Honduras would be void of our current forms of progression.
The world is developing at a tremendous rate, which is obvious in the states, but is also becoming apparent in the developing world as well. I read descriptions of volunteers who lacked electricity, who cooked their meals over fires, and who depended upon motorcycles as the only form of transportation. In stark contrast, crystal and I have a cell phone, cable TV, and six places with internet in our community (none of those three are currently working today as the fates would have it, but that is beside the point). The idea that I harbored about living and working in a technologically primitive atmosphere where nobody would ever have heard of coca cola was not only idealistic, but utterly impossible.
Honduras, like a great deal of the developing world today, is a land of stark and often strange contrasts. We daily encounter people using mules as beasts of burden, but then often see on the same street teenagers with the same snazzy cell phones that you are using in the states (and which, comically, we can’t afford). Half of our town lives on paved roads, the other half live in houses of dubious building materials including mud and sticks. And honestly, there are certain traditional methods that still exist, as made explicit by our neighbor’s wood burning stove which cooks their food (even if their other neighbors may have a microwave). The material contrasts may be more obvious in Honduras today, but the traditional methods of life still exist, just as it did for the volunteers before us.
The more that I got to thinking about the differences in the stories I read and the experience that we are having, the more I realized the commonalities within the Peace Corps which have spanned the barrier of time and maintained their relevance. Like the stories of volunteers that I read, Crystal and I interact with Hondurans daily, and the cultural exchange that results is both beautiful and beneficial. Also, we are constantly working hand in hand with Hondurans to address areas of improvement that they identify within their own culture. And that may be the true beauty of the Peace Corps, is that despite the cell phones and internet, that these goals are still achieved.
Before I confuse the issue, let me explain myself further. Envy is a tricky word that might give you the impression that something is currently ¨wrong¨ with our service. Nothing is actually farther from the truth. My sense of envy is not related to our geographical position which is ideal, nor our work which is perfect (music and baseball are officially our jobs now) nor Honduras, for which I grow more fond daily. In fact, really the only issue that I could find is time. Having always looked for a way to revisit life in the states before it started sprawling out of control, I assumed that Honduras would be void of our current forms of progression.
The world is developing at a tremendous rate, which is obvious in the states, but is also becoming apparent in the developing world as well. I read descriptions of volunteers who lacked electricity, who cooked their meals over fires, and who depended upon motorcycles as the only form of transportation. In stark contrast, crystal and I have a cell phone, cable TV, and six places with internet in our community (none of those three are currently working today as the fates would have it, but that is beside the point). The idea that I harbored about living and working in a technologically primitive atmosphere where nobody would ever have heard of coca cola was not only idealistic, but utterly impossible.
Honduras, like a great deal of the developing world today, is a land of stark and often strange contrasts. We daily encounter people using mules as beasts of burden, but then often see on the same street teenagers with the same snazzy cell phones that you are using in the states (and which, comically, we can’t afford). Half of our town lives on paved roads, the other half live in houses of dubious building materials including mud and sticks. And honestly, there are certain traditional methods that still exist, as made explicit by our neighbor’s wood burning stove which cooks their food (even if their other neighbors may have a microwave). The material contrasts may be more obvious in Honduras today, but the traditional methods of life still exist, just as it did for the volunteers before us.
The more that I got to thinking about the differences in the stories I read and the experience that we are having, the more I realized the commonalities within the Peace Corps which have spanned the barrier of time and maintained their relevance. Like the stories of volunteers that I read, Crystal and I interact with Hondurans daily, and the cultural exchange that results is both beautiful and beneficial. Also, we are constantly working hand in hand with Hondurans to address areas of improvement that they identify within their own culture. And that may be the true beauty of the Peace Corps, is that despite the cell phones and internet, that these goals are still achieved.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
The Crystal and Simon Recap
Greetings once again! We appoligize for the drastic lack of posts lately, but life in Honduras is like all new experiences, they eventually become less new experiences, and then eventually just your normal life. Also, we´ve hit what could probably be considered a routine in our daily lives, which is also maybe simular to life back home, only we wake up a lot later and chill out in hammacks. However, here is a taste of what we´ve been up to:
1. New House! As you may know, we moved last month to a new house on the other side of town, and we totally dig it. It is smaller and perhaps less ¨nice¨in comparison to the old house, but its alot more peaceful and ¨honduran¨in a sense, which is what we were looking for down here anyway. We have a large outdoor patio that we hang out on, there is plenty of room for lucy to run arround, and the neighbors are nice.
2. Work! We are actually pretty busy lately, and we love it. Crystal has been setting up two drum corps in local schools which by the grace of some unknown source have a ton of decent (for Honduras) looking drums. The idea is to have a drum competition for Honduras´ Indepenance Day in September, and to maybe work with another group in another one of our schools. Our bosses are pumped about the project and we have been asked to write a manual about the project for future use.
Also, we are starting another baseball team for las vegas, in the hopes that we can hold scrimmages with the El Mochito team. We talked to all the schools in Las Vegas to announce tryouts, and had well over 1oo kids show up the first day! Therefore we are having tryouts this week and should be able to put a team together of 25 kids really soon.
3. Fun Stuff! We are also getting ready to host the first Las Vegas Casino party, where will we get together with some friends to play some cards in a little hommage to that other las vegas of which you may have heard. And we are also planning to get tv soon, which we are mixed about. I don´t mind not having it, but if i can get news source as well as at least 17 football games next season (on espn monday night football) it is totally worth it. Not to mention that World Cup of Soccer starts next week, and I intend to watch every game that I can.
we will try to post a little more, and if anyone has any questions or possible blog topics they want to see addressed, drop us an email or post a comment and we´ll drop some mad knowledge on ya´ll
Much love, enjoy the summeresque days!
simon
1. New House! As you may know, we moved last month to a new house on the other side of town, and we totally dig it. It is smaller and perhaps less ¨nice¨in comparison to the old house, but its alot more peaceful and ¨honduran¨in a sense, which is what we were looking for down here anyway. We have a large outdoor patio that we hang out on, there is plenty of room for lucy to run arround, and the neighbors are nice.
2. Work! We are actually pretty busy lately, and we love it. Crystal has been setting up two drum corps in local schools which by the grace of some unknown source have a ton of decent (for Honduras) looking drums. The idea is to have a drum competition for Honduras´ Indepenance Day in September, and to maybe work with another group in another one of our schools. Our bosses are pumped about the project and we have been asked to write a manual about the project for future use.
Also, we are starting another baseball team for las vegas, in the hopes that we can hold scrimmages with the El Mochito team. We talked to all the schools in Las Vegas to announce tryouts, and had well over 1oo kids show up the first day! Therefore we are having tryouts this week and should be able to put a team together of 25 kids really soon.
3. Fun Stuff! We are also getting ready to host the first Las Vegas Casino party, where will we get together with some friends to play some cards in a little hommage to that other las vegas of which you may have heard. And we are also planning to get tv soon, which we are mixed about. I don´t mind not having it, but if i can get news source as well as at least 17 football games next season (on espn monday night football) it is totally worth it. Not to mention that World Cup of Soccer starts next week, and I intend to watch every game that I can.
we will try to post a little more, and if anyone has any questions or possible blog topics they want to see addressed, drop us an email or post a comment and we´ll drop some mad knowledge on ya´ll
Much love, enjoy the summeresque days!
simon
Thursday, March 9, 2006
Los Mal Suerte Osos
Last week was the first Rural Baseball Tournament of Honduras, held to commemorate Peace Corps’ 45th anniversary and the creation of the Honduran Federation of Baseball. This was a tournament for Peace Corps volunteers with baseball teams from all over the country, such as us, and we all converged on the capital of Tegucigalpa with our teams of kids between the ages of 8 and 12.
While football (soccer to you gringos) will always reign supreme in Honduran sports, other sports are also popular, especially basketball and volleyball. The creation of the Honduran Federation of Baseball is an attempt to spread the popularity of baseball throughout Honduras. Essentially to my understanding, this is a program sponsored by MLB in the states to foster understanding of baseball in other areas of Latin America, and therefore create more recruiting opportunities for MLB in the years to come. Those that follow Major League Baseball will know that a lot of talented ballplayers come out of countries such as Mexico, Nicaragua, Venezuela, The Dominican Republic, and Cuba. Within urban areas of Honduras there has been a history of baseball team organizations, much like our little league, but accessible only to the elite. As baseball equipment is expensive and knowledgeable coaches are scare within the rural areas, this program and its grants allows the poor kids in the country access to the sport of baseball. Currently, there are 10 teams supported by the initial grant, and plans are to double the amount of teams by next year.
We actually have two teams, one in Las Vegas and another in El Mochito. In the time between the last volunteers and our arrival in site, the Las Vegas team fell apart, but we found a wonderful coach in El Mochito who loves baseball, and can explain the finer points of baseball in Spanish. (Just trying to explain a force out to a kid in English can be difficult, but with our Spanish it can be impossible!) Therefore, with our two coaches, three volunteers, one parent chaperone, and 12 kids, we jammed into a minivan for the 5 hour drive to Tegus.
We had a celebration much a kin to an Olympic Opening Ceremony, complete with an exhibition baseball game, and the opening pitch was thrown by the US Ambassador in Honduras. However, the “hotel” provided for the weekend was a nightmare. All the kids were separated by sex, all the girls (including coaches) slept in a giant hostel, whereas all the boys got sent to the Air Force Barracks. Despite the different locals, Crystal and I had similar experiences. Placing 100 kids in a giant room with bunk beds is a mistake. Each day was the same: the first three hours after we got to the “Hotel” there were kids running around kicking footballs, each other, and always screaming, fueled by copious amounts of cake, soda, and what must have been cocaine judging by their actions. They would go to sleep at about 10pm, but both groups took it upon themselves to wake up at 430am, running, screaming, and beating each other once again, only this time without clothes. My being woken at 4:30am to five kids pulling two naked boys across the floor on a bed mattress like some evil dogsled team while screaming like banshees will haunt me for the rest of my natural days. Needless to say nobody sleep the entire weekend, and the lack of screens on windows left Crystal and I covered with mosquito bites.
The next day we had two games in the elimination round. Our first game was super close: last inning, bases loaded, two outs, and our best hitter at the plate, who then struck out, a perfect baseball moment. The other team we faced was by far superior, we borrowed a ringer pitcher from a Tegus league and they still beat us 11-0. However, our kids played well in their first two baseball games ever. Regardless of our record, it was a valuable experience for all of the kids, allowing them to encounter kids from all over the country and to partake in something trivial that we take for granted like a tournament. One of our kids stood mouth agape in amazement as he saw his first airplane in person circle the city. Crystal’s favorite memory from the tourney was our catcher after the awards ceremony running down the bleachers with a diploma in one hand, a medal of participation in the other, and a screaming mouth covered in cake frosting. It is these moments that comprise Peace Corps, the horrible and wonderful together, the ability to give an experience special and lasting in a person’s life.
While football (soccer to you gringos) will always reign supreme in Honduran sports, other sports are also popular, especially basketball and volleyball. The creation of the Honduran Federation of Baseball is an attempt to spread the popularity of baseball throughout Honduras. Essentially to my understanding, this is a program sponsored by MLB in the states to foster understanding of baseball in other areas of Latin America, and therefore create more recruiting opportunities for MLB in the years to come. Those that follow Major League Baseball will know that a lot of talented ballplayers come out of countries such as Mexico, Nicaragua, Venezuela, The Dominican Republic, and Cuba. Within urban areas of Honduras there has been a history of baseball team organizations, much like our little league, but accessible only to the elite. As baseball equipment is expensive and knowledgeable coaches are scare within the rural areas, this program and its grants allows the poor kids in the country access to the sport of baseball. Currently, there are 10 teams supported by the initial grant, and plans are to double the amount of teams by next year.
We actually have two teams, one in Las Vegas and another in El Mochito. In the time between the last volunteers and our arrival in site, the Las Vegas team fell apart, but we found a wonderful coach in El Mochito who loves baseball, and can explain the finer points of baseball in Spanish. (Just trying to explain a force out to a kid in English can be difficult, but with our Spanish it can be impossible!) Therefore, with our two coaches, three volunteers, one parent chaperone, and 12 kids, we jammed into a minivan for the 5 hour drive to Tegus.
We had a celebration much a kin to an Olympic Opening Ceremony, complete with an exhibition baseball game, and the opening pitch was thrown by the US Ambassador in Honduras. However, the “hotel” provided for the weekend was a nightmare. All the kids were separated by sex, all the girls (including coaches) slept in a giant hostel, whereas all the boys got sent to the Air Force Barracks. Despite the different locals, Crystal and I had similar experiences. Placing 100 kids in a giant room with bunk beds is a mistake. Each day was the same: the first three hours after we got to the “Hotel” there were kids running around kicking footballs, each other, and always screaming, fueled by copious amounts of cake, soda, and what must have been cocaine judging by their actions. They would go to sleep at about 10pm, but both groups took it upon themselves to wake up at 430am, running, screaming, and beating each other once again, only this time without clothes. My being woken at 4:30am to five kids pulling two naked boys across the floor on a bed mattress like some evil dogsled team while screaming like banshees will haunt me for the rest of my natural days. Needless to say nobody sleep the entire weekend, and the lack of screens on windows left Crystal and I covered with mosquito bites.
The next day we had two games in the elimination round. Our first game was super close: last inning, bases loaded, two outs, and our best hitter at the plate, who then struck out, a perfect baseball moment. The other team we faced was by far superior, we borrowed a ringer pitcher from a Tegus league and they still beat us 11-0. However, our kids played well in their first two baseball games ever. Regardless of our record, it was a valuable experience for all of the kids, allowing them to encounter kids from all over the country and to partake in something trivial that we take for granted like a tournament. One of our kids stood mouth agape in amazement as he saw his first airplane in person circle the city. Crystal’s favorite memory from the tourney was our catcher after the awards ceremony running down the bleachers with a diploma in one hand, a medal of participation in the other, and a screaming mouth covered in cake frosting. It is these moments that comprise Peace Corps, the horrible and wonderful together, the ability to give an experience special and lasting in a person’s life.
Wednesday, March 8, 2006
¡Si, todos!
During our first months in Honduras, we often worked with our good friend, Kathryn, and had a lot of the same stories. Here is another story of our training antics, as told by Kathryn, about when we were locked in a cage and left figure things out for ourselves (a sometimes difficult task when you are new to a language and country).
Part of FBT (Field Based Training) is working 4 days in an Aldea (mini village or large neighborhood of a larger existing town)organizing activities for the youth in the community. I was originally in a team of 5 but it was broken up into a team of 3 and 2. 2 people went to work with an Evangelical group and C, D, and I went to work for a Catholic youth group.
We were dropped off at the house of the group leader by our tech trainer and they just left us there. We looked at each other and entered her home. She greeted us and pulled out some chairs for us to sit on. We sat. We looked at her and she looked at us.
"So why are you here?", she asks.
"Well we´re here to help you with whatever you need. Youth groups, we can give charlas, we can organize a soccer game, etc.", we say.
"Well I have a youth group that meets on Saturdays and Sundays after church."
"But we´re coming here on Tues and Thurs", I say.
"Well what can you guys do here then?"
We all sit there for almost 5 minutes in silence. I´m looking at Delfo because he has a quick mind and the best Spanish and hope he comes out with an answer. At that same time, he´s looking at Crystal and me with the puzzled look on his face.
But that didn´t compare to the look on my face! I sat there and had a nervous smile on my face. Looking back, Delfo said that my face reminded him of old cartoons when a character is portrayed as a fool and their face changes into a "Sucker" or a donkey and returns to the smiling face.
A few more minutes pass. D finally says, "Well we can give charlas"
"About what?" she asks.
"Anything you want. We know everything!", D says. (foolishly)
C chimes in, "¡Si, todos!" (Yes, everything!)
So now you have a smiling jackass and we all appear to be know-it-alls in all under 15 minutes.
According to our tech trainer, she wanted our help and asked for it, but once we were there, she had no idea what to do with us.
We stand around looking at her outdoor area. "Can you show us the town?", Delfo asks.
(It´s raining out by the way.)
"OK." she says.
She makes Lenca pottery for a living and was working on various projects. C picks up some pottery and says, "My sister makes pottery in the U.S." and the lady just stares at her. She begins making rosary beads for a gigantic rosary (that she is probably using now to pray for our souls). A neighbor comes by and she goes out to talk to him.
C, D and I look at each other and start to freak out. "Is this what it´s supposed to be like? I´ve never felt so stupid in my life!"
She comes back after awhile and says "Let´s go to the Catholic Church."
We walk to the church with her 3 legged dog that had been hit by a car twice and watched as it ran out into the road and almost got hit again! (Is this really happening?)
The church was fine and we start to walk back as it begins to rain. This poor woman is wearing a light fleece and flip flops so she was soaked by the time we get back.
She pulls out the three chairs and places them in the cage where she stores some of her pottery for sale and says, "You can wait here until your car comes". Our car isn´t coming until 3:30.
"But it´s 2:40", D says.
"That´s fine", she says. Then she pulls out a chair and puts it in front of the cage and sits there, stares down the road and waits for the white Land Cruiser to pull up and get us out of there.
We sit in the cage and look at each other. School lets out and kids pass by the cage and look at us. Yes, COME AND SEE THE BAD GRINGOS SIT IN A POTTERY CAGE!!! They walk by slow and stare. So this is what it feels like to be in a zoo....
After awhile we finally accept her offer of coffee and she disappears for 25 mintues. But she has a neighbor sit in her chair to make sure we don´t get loose (?).
Then Crystal made the call of the day, "Watch the car pull up as she´s bringing out our coffee."
And that´s exactly what happened. Delfo was adamant about having the coffee (But so were Crystal and I). We sat, drank the coffee, ate some crackers, and continued to sit in the cage. Finally the car came back. We got into the car and once we sat down, the three of us laughed so hard we started to cry. Telling the story only made it more hilarious/embarassing.
So that´s how we were placed in a cage and made fools out of ourselves. You gotta love it.
Part of FBT (Field Based Training) is working 4 days in an Aldea (mini village or large neighborhood of a larger existing town)organizing activities for the youth in the community. I was originally in a team of 5 but it was broken up into a team of 3 and 2. 2 people went to work with an Evangelical group and C, D, and I went to work for a Catholic youth group.
We were dropped off at the house of the group leader by our tech trainer and they just left us there. We looked at each other and entered her home. She greeted us and pulled out some chairs for us to sit on. We sat. We looked at her and she looked at us.
"So why are you here?", she asks.
"Well we´re here to help you with whatever you need. Youth groups, we can give charlas, we can organize a soccer game, etc.", we say.
"Well I have a youth group that meets on Saturdays and Sundays after church."
"But we´re coming here on Tues and Thurs", I say.
"Well what can you guys do here then?"
We all sit there for almost 5 minutes in silence. I´m looking at Delfo because he has a quick mind and the best Spanish and hope he comes out with an answer. At that same time, he´s looking at Crystal and me with the puzzled look on his face.
But that didn´t compare to the look on my face! I sat there and had a nervous smile on my face. Looking back, Delfo said that my face reminded him of old cartoons when a character is portrayed as a fool and their face changes into a "Sucker" or a donkey and returns to the smiling face.
A few more minutes pass. D finally says, "Well we can give charlas"
"About what?" she asks.
"Anything you want. We know everything!", D says. (foolishly)
C chimes in, "¡Si, todos!" (Yes, everything!)
So now you have a smiling jackass and we all appear to be know-it-alls in all under 15 minutes.
According to our tech trainer, she wanted our help and asked for it, but once we were there, she had no idea what to do with us.
We stand around looking at her outdoor area. "Can you show us the town?", Delfo asks.
(It´s raining out by the way.)
"OK." she says.
She makes Lenca pottery for a living and was working on various projects. C picks up some pottery and says, "My sister makes pottery in the U.S." and the lady just stares at her. She begins making rosary beads for a gigantic rosary (that she is probably using now to pray for our souls). A neighbor comes by and she goes out to talk to him.
C, D and I look at each other and start to freak out. "Is this what it´s supposed to be like? I´ve never felt so stupid in my life!"
She comes back after awhile and says "Let´s go to the Catholic Church."
We walk to the church with her 3 legged dog that had been hit by a car twice and watched as it ran out into the road and almost got hit again! (Is this really happening?)
The church was fine and we start to walk back as it begins to rain. This poor woman is wearing a light fleece and flip flops so she was soaked by the time we get back.
She pulls out the three chairs and places them in the cage where she stores some of her pottery for sale and says, "You can wait here until your car comes". Our car isn´t coming until 3:30.
"But it´s 2:40", D says.
"That´s fine", she says. Then she pulls out a chair and puts it in front of the cage and sits there, stares down the road and waits for the white Land Cruiser to pull up and get us out of there.
We sit in the cage and look at each other. School lets out and kids pass by the cage and look at us. Yes, COME AND SEE THE BAD GRINGOS SIT IN A POTTERY CAGE!!! They walk by slow and stare. So this is what it feels like to be in a zoo....
After awhile we finally accept her offer of coffee and she disappears for 25 mintues. But she has a neighbor sit in her chair to make sure we don´t get loose (?).
Then Crystal made the call of the day, "Watch the car pull up as she´s bringing out our coffee."
And that´s exactly what happened. Delfo was adamant about having the coffee (But so were Crystal and I). We sat, drank the coffee, ate some crackers, and continued to sit in the cage. Finally the car came back. We got into the car and once we sat down, the three of us laughed so hard we started to cry. Telling the story only made it more hilarious/embarassing.
So that´s how we were placed in a cage and made fools out of ourselves. You gotta love it.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Dentists and Doughnuts
How does a simple trip to the dentist turn into drinking wine with misionaries?
In the magical world of Honduras, all of your dreams can suddenly come true....
As Crystal mentioned below, ( if ya havent read her post yet, go check it out! I'll wait here!) I've been in Tegus since yesterday, taking care of a broken tooth (turned out to be minor) issued to me by some beans, so don't believe all this propaganda in the media about basic grains and their peaceful ways, cuz it ain't so. Dentist appt went rather smooth: the ability to afford dental care is obviously a luxury here, and in response the dentist office is kinda a swank place, this particular office was in the same building as the Columbian Embassy and the Standard Fruit (Dole) Office. She was very nice, spoke english when necessary, and gave me a cleaning and a patch job on the spot. However, she thinks that i might have.....(bum bum bummmmm) Gingivitis!! If I was on a tv commercial for toothpaste, the lighting would be ominous and i would would looked simply shocked, and accompanied by an echo (gingivitis.....gingivitis...........gingivitis), but she gave me some new toothpaste and I should be on the road to gum health soon. Thanks medical insurance!!
Crystal and I are broke as a joke right now, which made this trip to tegus bittersweet: I could eat whatever i wanted, go to a movie, and even go grocery shopping for exotic delights such as peanut butter and black pepper, if only i could afford them. More likely i was gonna eat some cupcakes for dinner and tough the night out. However, I was destined to remain in my hotel room and watch tv cuz its free. It was my one chance to watch the winter olympics, but the only event for the entire night was figure skating. NOOOO! was my desperate plea: Give me the luge, curling, ice hockey, anything but women's iceskating! However, I was saved from this fate by our pals Dave and Dez, who just so happened to be in Tegus as well. We went out to a really good cuban restaurant and had some beers courtesy of my credit card. We met two guys back at the hotel who we thought were old pc volunteers, but later found out to be missionaries. Typically this is not the social company I tend to keep, but they proved to be lacking in the brainwashed department, and simultaneously well stocked in the Mexican Tequila department.
We talked politics, passed arround their guitar, and spoke of my favorite peace corps urban legend: The Crazy Girl Who Makes Doughnuts. Lore has it that there was a volunteer who lost her marbles while in her village for peace corps, and proceeded to make doughnuts with her every free moment. This activity went on unchecked and beknownst to PC for a while, until they randomly visited her, and were soon overcome by the presence of doughnuts on every available surface in her house. This led to her being sent back to the states as a crazy person. The location of this story is always a mystery; people here claim it was in Honduras, but our sitemate Sidney first heard it when he was a volunteer in Nepal, where it was also supposed to have taken place. However, we were able to find out last night from our missionaries that this story has been arround since at least the first time they lived in Honduras, some 15 years prior. It also proved to be the inspiration for Sidney's business project that we have been working on and has been the most sucessful of our projects to date: a doughnut company to raise money for youth activities.
Therefore, with shiny teeth, I'll be heading back up to Vegas today, Crystal and I need to get ready to host some trainees this weekend, they are visiting to see what the peace corps experience is all about. The will want to know about the struggles, the accomplishments, the adjustments, the true essence and grit of what an actual volunteer is and what they really do. And they will see the full embodiment of being a peace corps volunteer on Friday, for we are all gonna make Doughnuts.
In the magical world of Honduras, all of your dreams can suddenly come true....
As Crystal mentioned below, ( if ya havent read her post yet, go check it out! I'll wait here!) I've been in Tegus since yesterday, taking care of a broken tooth (turned out to be minor) issued to me by some beans, so don't believe all this propaganda in the media about basic grains and their peaceful ways, cuz it ain't so. Dentist appt went rather smooth: the ability to afford dental care is obviously a luxury here, and in response the dentist office is kinda a swank place, this particular office was in the same building as the Columbian Embassy and the Standard Fruit (Dole) Office. She was very nice, spoke english when necessary, and gave me a cleaning and a patch job on the spot. However, she thinks that i might have.....(bum bum bummmmm) Gingivitis!! If I was on a tv commercial for toothpaste, the lighting would be ominous and i would would looked simply shocked, and accompanied by an echo (gingivitis.....gingivitis...........gingivitis), but she gave me some new toothpaste and I should be on the road to gum health soon. Thanks medical insurance!!
Crystal and I are broke as a joke right now, which made this trip to tegus bittersweet: I could eat whatever i wanted, go to a movie, and even go grocery shopping for exotic delights such as peanut butter and black pepper, if only i could afford them. More likely i was gonna eat some cupcakes for dinner and tough the night out. However, I was destined to remain in my hotel room and watch tv cuz its free. It was my one chance to watch the winter olympics, but the only event for the entire night was figure skating. NOOOO! was my desperate plea: Give me the luge, curling, ice hockey, anything but women's iceskating! However, I was saved from this fate by our pals Dave and Dez, who just so happened to be in Tegus as well. We went out to a really good cuban restaurant and had some beers courtesy of my credit card. We met two guys back at the hotel who we thought were old pc volunteers, but later found out to be missionaries. Typically this is not the social company I tend to keep, but they proved to be lacking in the brainwashed department, and simultaneously well stocked in the Mexican Tequila department.
We talked politics, passed arround their guitar, and spoke of my favorite peace corps urban legend: The Crazy Girl Who Makes Doughnuts. Lore has it that there was a volunteer who lost her marbles while in her village for peace corps, and proceeded to make doughnuts with her every free moment. This activity went on unchecked and beknownst to PC for a while, until they randomly visited her, and were soon overcome by the presence of doughnuts on every available surface in her house. This led to her being sent back to the states as a crazy person. The location of this story is always a mystery; people here claim it was in Honduras, but our sitemate Sidney first heard it when he was a volunteer in Nepal, where it was also supposed to have taken place. However, we were able to find out last night from our missionaries that this story has been arround since at least the first time they lived in Honduras, some 15 years prior. It also proved to be the inspiration for Sidney's business project that we have been working on and has been the most sucessful of our projects to date: a doughnut company to raise money for youth activities.
Therefore, with shiny teeth, I'll be heading back up to Vegas today, Crystal and I need to get ready to host some trainees this weekend, they are visiting to see what the peace corps experience is all about. The will want to know about the struggles, the accomplishments, the adjustments, the true essence and grit of what an actual volunteer is and what they really do. And they will see the full embodiment of being a peace corps volunteer on Friday, for we are all gonna make Doughnuts.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Back to School.
- School officially started today. No back to school specials here, just a stand on the side of the road with pencils, backpacks, uniforms and notebooks. Our friend, who is a teacher, told us last night that he only had 2 students yesterday because alot of them are still picking coffee. This should hopefully be done by March. This also means, being youth volunteers, we will soon be heading out to work. I´ll be teaching Music Appreciation at one school and working with a couple bands at 2 other schools. The beisbol tournament is in 2 weeks and we´ve decided to only work with this for the time being. After the toury(March 5th), we will set foot into the Honduran school system, and see what we can do from there.
In other news, as we were eating dinner the other night (our usual beans, tortillas, mantequilla and rice), Simon suddenly yelled in disgust. Apparently there was a rock in his beans and he bit it and chipped his back tooth. He is in Teguciagalpa today and tomorrow having a friendly visit with the dentist to have it fixed. Also yesterday, I got really sick and couldn´t understand why it was so hard to stand up. By 4 pm, it hadnt gotten better, I was more dizzy, and there was no food left in my body, so I crawled out of bed and went to the doctor (who is only in town from 3-5pm). Turns out I was dizzy because I had a fever of 104. They did some tests and discovered that I have an infection in my intestines, probably from eating something bad. I have no idea what it could have been, but they gave me some not so pleasant shots and injections, pills and gatorade, and sent me off to rest. I go back today and am already feeling better.
Oh, and our landlord has finally had his worker finish our kitchen and start working on our fence!- Crystal
Wednesday, February 8, 2006
All that I see on this bed, are California Raisins!
...Or so was the response Sunday night as Crystal and I shared a hotel room in most likely the most disgusting hotel in all of the western hemisphere. Ourselves, along with Delfo and Kathryn, who were visiting for the weekend, we in the process of searching for bedbugs in their room, after we discovered our own bed rife with fleas. Fortunately, all we found was the sheets decorated with the aforementioned California raisins, allowing us to laugh at our little dungeon and sleep uncomfortably until morning where we left as soon as possible.
We were in Santa Barbara this weekend for a super bowl party that some fellow volunteers were hosting in their city of about 40000 people, making it a rather urbanized place as far as Honduras goes. Few things in life can’t be ignored, and one is definitely the super bowl, and some volunteers convinced a bar owner down here to set up a projector so we could watch the game big screen style. Alas, it was in Spanish and was lacking the blockbuster commercials (which I hear weren’t that great anyway) but football is football and the game wasn’t too disappointing.
Otherwise, we have been settling into a pattern of what I guess you could call ¨normalcy¨ as of late. We have our national baseball tourny in less than a month, so we have been trying to have practice a couple times a week to get our kids ready for it, although they are on their summer break from school so they are a tad difficult to organize. However, school should be starting sometime this month, but nobody seems to know when exactly, and should go until some other undefined time in November. Otherwise, we have been struggling to get our library project up and running, and our construction date has been rolled back until at least May.
Simon
We were in Santa Barbara this weekend for a super bowl party that some fellow volunteers were hosting in their city of about 40000 people, making it a rather urbanized place as far as Honduras goes. Few things in life can’t be ignored, and one is definitely the super bowl, and some volunteers convinced a bar owner down here to set up a projector so we could watch the game big screen style. Alas, it was in Spanish and was lacking the blockbuster commercials (which I hear weren’t that great anyway) but football is football and the game wasn’t too disappointing.
Otherwise, we have been settling into a pattern of what I guess you could call ¨normalcy¨ as of late. We have our national baseball tourny in less than a month, so we have been trying to have practice a couple times a week to get our kids ready for it, although they are on their summer break from school so they are a tad difficult to organize. However, school should be starting sometime this month, but nobody seems to know when exactly, and should go until some other undefined time in November. Otherwise, we have been struggling to get our library project up and running, and our construction date has been rolled back until at least May.
Simon
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Los Andes and El Mochito, homes away from home
The above are the names of 2 of the smaller aldeas(villages) that are part of my town´s municipality. We will be working in both of them once school starts and this weekend we got to visit both to take a look. Los andes is about 1 and a half miles straight up the mountain we live at the base of. The only way to get there is in the back of trucks. None of our crappy school buses can go that high. Once you get to the village you turn and look back down and can see nothing but clouds. Its the strangest thing to be above the sky and looking down at it. Its not even explainable. Anyhow, I saw the school Ill be working in, and then we celebrated Laticia´s birthday! She lives in Los Andes as a PC PAM volunteer, which means she works with farmers to help better their crops. We went to a cabbage farm and also hiked through tons of coffee.
El Mochito: This town is pretty close to us and alot of the people in Las Vegas work there. It´s higher up the mountain by about 20 minutes. There are mines in this town and so many people are imployed by them. They mine things like zinc, garnet, uranium, silver, quartz, and supposedly gold. This is probably why there are roughly 20 armed gaurds with machine guns surrounding it every time we pass by. They smile and wave, and we do the same.
ok, gotta go,
love, Crystal
El Mochito: This town is pretty close to us and alot of the people in Las Vegas work there. It´s higher up the mountain by about 20 minutes. There are mines in this town and so many people are imployed by them. They mine things like zinc, garnet, uranium, silver, quartz, and supposedly gold. This is probably why there are roughly 20 armed gaurds with machine guns surrounding it every time we pass by. They smile and wave, and we do the same.
ok, gotta go,
love, Crystal
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Mailing address
We´ve had a couple people ask about it and so here it is. And thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has sent us presents, cards, letters, postcards, photos and everything else. They are all hanging in our living room!
Anyways, here is our mailing address in our village:
Crystal or Jeremy Simon
Voluntario del Cuerpo de Paz
Las Vegas, Santa Barbara
HONDURAS
America Central
And packages can still be sent to our Tegucigalpa address which is located in one of our first posts under ADDY INFORMATION.
Thanks again!
Crystal and Simon
Anyways, here is our mailing address in our village:
Crystal or Jeremy Simon
Voluntario del Cuerpo de Paz
Las Vegas, Santa Barbara
HONDURAS
America Central
And packages can still be sent to our Tegucigalpa address which is located in one of our first posts under ADDY INFORMATION.
Thanks again!
Crystal and Simon
Monday, January 23, 2006
Don´t be afraid, Gringo
The above is the title of a book by an indigious woman from Honduras, where she explains the plight of Honduras and how the influence of the United States has dramatically influenced the course of History in Honduras and in the Latin American Sphere in general. Its a interesting read, but i´m using it to breach the term gringo for today´s blog-o-information. The term ¨gringo¨or ¨gringa¨for you ladies out there, is used here to reference North Americans within the area of Latin America, or in general, anyone who has European ancestry. The term was developed during the Mexican War, where people of Mexico encouraged the U.S. Army, with their green combat fatiges to go, or quite simply, ¨Green, Go!¨hence, Gringo. US influence has spread far beyond Mexico, and hence, so has the term gringo. Gringo is used now in a more antiseptic sense, and generally is translated to¨¨north american¨or ¨foreigner¨. I have been on a quest of empowerment with ¨Gringo¨, often using it in reference to myself or to make jokes, simular tactics that have been used to negate the influence of other negitive terms by other groups of people. However, we have Honduran friends that will not use it, as they feel that it is still disrespectful.
I guess in many ways, its a defense mechanism for the people of latin america who encounter so much N.American cultural influence on a daily basis, and not always for the better: food, clothes, music, movies, tv, etc; to create sepperation between their past and traditions and the modern face of Latin America today.
P.S. My Amazon.com wish list is almost ready, for anyone that maybe wants to send us some books, just drop an email or message on here and i can sent it to you. Thanks!
Simon
I guess in many ways, its a defense mechanism for the people of latin america who encounter so much N.American cultural influence on a daily basis, and not always for the better: food, clothes, music, movies, tv, etc; to create sepperation between their past and traditions and the modern face of Latin America today.
P.S. My Amazon.com wish list is almost ready, for anyone that maybe wants to send us some books, just drop an email or message on here and i can sent it to you. Thanks!
Simon
Monday, January 16, 2006
Wanna have a nice paid vacation? Ok, but you have to be sick the whole time.
So this weekend, Simon and I were lucky enough to have a conference in Tegucigalpa (the capital) for the Reicken library coming to Las Vegas starting this month. Travel expenses were paid, along with most food and our hotel room. In the middle of the conference, roughly noon, I started to feel ill. I was a trooper and continued with the conference and my friends and hardly said a word about it.
In the evening, everyone from our group was planning to go to the Bamboo club in town. It was a 100 lemp cover and free drinks all night. Initially, we planned to go and have fun, too. An hour before everyone left is when I was officially sick.
On a happy note, I gave our friend that owns a little store in our site a kitten last week and they LOVE it! Our neighbor has about 20 dogs and 20 cats at all times, so they were happy to get rid of the little kitten, which I like to call "little gatito." It follows her around like a little puppy. Also, this week we should be getting a new fence around our house.....hopefully.
hope all well at home!
love, Crystal
In the evening, everyone from our group was planning to go to the Bamboo club in town. It was a 100 lemp cover and free drinks all night. Initially, we planned to go and have fun, too. An hour before everyone left is when I was officially sick.
On a happy note, I gave our friend that owns a little store in our site a kitten last week and they LOVE it! Our neighbor has about 20 dogs and 20 cats at all times, so they were happy to get rid of the little kitten, which I like to call "little gatito." It follows her around like a little puppy. Also, this week we should be getting a new fence around our house.....hopefully.
hope all well at home!
love, Crystal
Friday, January 6, 2006
With the good, there´s the bad...but usually its good.
The holidays are over. We had a wonderful time in La Ceiba last week. It was a well deserved vacation of speaking English, eating fresh sea food, and laying on the beach. We hiked Pico Bonito, a tropical rain forest reserve with waterfalls, swimming holes of turquoise blue, and wildlife teeming from the canopys. We heard howler monkeys in their original habitat, and we boated the Caribbean sea. I swam with angel fish and almost stepped on a hermit crab. The high point was when simon got stung by a stingray. Don´t worry, he´s ok! Just a little swelling on his stomach, nothing serious.
We´ve started English classes and they are pretty successful so far. I´m not really excited about teaching English, but the people in my class are very willing and wanting to learn, so I´m not going to stop them. They want to learn a foreign language for the same reasons as me, so I can hardly deny them of that. Beisbol starts next week! This I am excited for. The kids are so happy about it!
I play alot of cards. If anyone wants to send me some Sudoku puzzles, or a cribbage board, I would be grateful. Our house has tons of 'animalitos' (these are unknown animals larger than bugs, but smaller than dogs, basically) in the ceiling that pitterpatter all night long. I think they are bats and rats. Also, lately Ive been having a hard time sleeping. Partly because of the noise from Chickens and dogs, and partly because Ive been having a difficult time coping with G´s death and that my friends are all at home and I can´t do alot for them. Considering G signed the paper to get me here in the first place is upseting, but Im hoping to do some fun work with the drumline in the village at the top of our mountain, Los Andes. Maybe we can play a song for the opening of our new library in May. G would have loved that.
All in all, things are good. Its going to start getting hot soon. Starting in March, we can have visitors, so start looking for tickets! Its really relaxing here, tranquillo, as they say. I hear of a rumour that there are tickets to Roatan and San Pedro airports for 300-400 dollars out of Atlanta through Delta air. Ill keep everyone posted if I find anything.
peace and pineapple, Crystal
We´ve started English classes and they are pretty successful so far. I´m not really excited about teaching English, but the people in my class are very willing and wanting to learn, so I´m not going to stop them. They want to learn a foreign language for the same reasons as me, so I can hardly deny them of that. Beisbol starts next week! This I am excited for. The kids are so happy about it!
I play alot of cards. If anyone wants to send me some Sudoku puzzles, or a cribbage board, I would be grateful. Our house has tons of 'animalitos' (these are unknown animals larger than bugs, but smaller than dogs, basically) in the ceiling that pitterpatter all night long. I think they are bats and rats. Also, lately Ive been having a hard time sleeping. Partly because of the noise from Chickens and dogs, and partly because Ive been having a difficult time coping with G´s death and that my friends are all at home and I can´t do alot for them. Considering G signed the paper to get me here in the first place is upseting, but Im hoping to do some fun work with the drumline in the village at the top of our mountain, Los Andes. Maybe we can play a song for the opening of our new library in May. G would have loved that.
All in all, things are good. Its going to start getting hot soon. Starting in March, we can have visitors, so start looking for tickets! Its really relaxing here, tranquillo, as they say. I hear of a rumour that there are tickets to Roatan and San Pedro airports for 300-400 dollars out of Atlanta through Delta air. Ill keep everyone posted if I find anything.
peace and pineapple, Crystal
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