Two Years...

Two years ago, C and I were moving into a tiny room attached to a larger house in Santa Lucia, Honduras. I can easily recall our first day in Honduras; a harrowing flight that grazed treetops and spiraled onto a landing strip on a cliff, the bus ride from the airport in Tegucigalpa: sprawling urbanization, juxtaposition between mansions on hills and tenement houses etched into valleys; arriving in Santa Lucia, our new home for the next three months of training, set atop a lush green mountain.

That first night we struggled to communicate with our host families, often shedding tears of frustration in the process, it took us at least an hour to explain that we wanted to go to sleep. We were suddenly in a whole new situation: new foods, new climate, new geography, and 30 other new volunteers who would become our ¨new¨ social network. And the overwhelming idea that two years were hanging over our heads; an eternity in which we were to learn how to live and work within a new culture, using a new language, and in areas (such as teaching) that were completely new endeavors.

I remember trying to calculate the time we had left during our first week in terms of days, and it seemed impossible. How could I ever learn enough about Honduras in just two years? Just as a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, a journey of two years began with that first day.

I distinctly remember the struggles through our training, wishing that I would just be able to communicate my ideas and feelings in Spanish, afraid that I never would be able. Wondering where my new home would be for the next two years, curious about the person I would become on the other end our time in Honduras.

As time passed, we grew into our new roles as volunteers. Our Spanish improved, we made friends, we ran into challenges and problems that were unique to our new culture and situation, we began a series of projects and ideas within our community with varying levels of success, and we slowly became an integrated part of Honduras and our community. Where we were once afraid to start a conversation, we found ourselves as leaders in our community.

Included along the way were days of unbearable frustration and anger, moments of euphoric joy and accomplishment, months of progress and maturation. And now we stand on the other side of two years, wondering how it all passed so quickly.

Looking back on the last two years, I’m struck by the nature of our transformations, the experiences we’ve had, and also with the thought that we are about to once again readjust, albeit this time to old places and faces, but under a new context. Within the next two months we will be once again moving our entire lives to another country, adjusting what we remember from the way things were two years ago to the way that they are now, and using our experiences from Honduras like a new pair of eyes.

We´ve seen things that we will never forget, met people that will always be carried in our hearts and minds, and created memories that will influence the rest of our lives. Its amazing what can happen in two years.