Sad Kitty...

This might get a little long, but hopefully you will hang with me.

On Friday afternoon, Sandi, Brenda and I came home from grocery shopping to find a tiny little orange tabby kitty sitting near our back gate.  I had seen it a few weeks ago, in front of our neighbors who live across the way.  It had always been lethargic, almost oblivious to its surroundings.  Friday was no different.  As Brenda and I opened the gate to pull the truck in, the kitty just kind of wandered a little closer in front of the gate, directly in the path of where Sandi would be pulling the truck.  I reached down and picked up the little guy to move him out of the way.  (For the purpose of this post, I’ll call the cat a ‘he’.)

I noticed, not that it took any effort, that the kitty was nothing but bones with semblance of fur.  Malnourished would be an understatement.  He was probably aboout 8 weeks old, but sooooo much smaller than he should be.  His tail was mangled, his eye had an infection and was oozing a little bit of green goo, and his breathing was labored.  It was obvious he had a cold or respiratory infection.  So, after putting away my groceries, I did the only thing I could: I made the little guy some food.  I took a bit of cat food and added warm water to soften it and create some broth, and also provide some water.  I brought the food outside our gate and offered it to him.  He lapped it up in no time.  I didn’t want to give him too much food all at once because I was pretty sure it would upset his stomach.

After petting the kitty and talking to him while he was eating, and even getting a few tiny mews out of him, I came back inside our property.  And, as you might imagine, my new friend made his way under the gate and into our yard.  Actually, I was hoping he would do just that because at least he’d be safe from the dogs and other predators out there – including the neighborhood kids, who think nothing of throwing rocks at dogs and cats. As tiny as he was, he was able to hop up the few steps to my door and just sat there for a while.  I didn’t want to give him more food yet, though.  An hour later I went out to see if he was still there, but he had moved on.  I checked outside the gate and didn’t see him.  I figured he’d show up again when he was ready to.

Saturday morning, I left early to get to the university for my day of teaching.  Yet, as I left the back gate on my motorcycle, I searched all around for the little kitty. Nope, he wasn’t there. 

But, when I got home at 5:00 pm, the kitty was once again in the grass at the side of the gate.  He seemed even more lethargic than usual, barely moving.  In fact, when I first pulled up and got off my moto, I had to stare at him a bit just to see that he was breathing.  I brought my motorcycle inside and parked it in its usual space.  Then I went inside and made some more food for the kitty.

I decided to bring the kitty inside the gate, so I walked outside and gently scooped him up.  The poor little guy couldn’t even support his own weight. He was just flopping around.  I don’t know what had happened in 24 hours; he shouldn’t have been that weak.  There was a rag on the ground, so I arranged it for the kitty to lay in.  He couldn’t eat, or even lap up the broth.  Something was seriously wrong.

After a few minutes, Sandi came over and brought some Pedialyte.  We figured we’d try to get some diluted electrolytes into the little guy.  Sandi used a syringe, without the needle, of course, to try to get some liquid down his throat.  We were only moderately  successful. 

I fixed up a cardboard box for the kitty and put in the rag, some newspapers and the food.  I kept going over to check on him and pet him.  Well, it was just a gentle stroke with one finger. I really had no idea how he could have gotten into such bad shape in less than a day.  He couldn’t stand and could barely flop his paws just enough to change his position.  I put some of the broth on my finger to see if I could get him to lick it.  Nope.  His breathing was so labored. He had not made a sound.

About an hour after I put him into the box, Sad Kitty breathed his last.  With me right there, petting him.  It was tough to see him suffer like that, gasping for air that just wouldn’t fill his tiny lungs.  I got a flashlight to really check to see if his lungs were expanding or if his eyes would change.  He was gone.  I waited a few more minutes, just in case, and then I called Sandi and asked her how I should dispose of the body.  Sandi and Trifi came over and Trifi took the box and was planning to bury the cat.  You can’t just put them in a plastic bag and into the trash because other animals will get into them.

I talked with Sandi about how quickly he had gone downhill from the day before.  It just didn’t make sense.  In fact, just the opposite: he had eaten at least a little bit of real food and that should have helped him.  Sandi told me that it was entirely possible (and even probable) that our neighbors had poisoned him.  Animals are not even close to cared for here.

So I was left with my thoughts.  And my tears. I thought about the tiny life that was gone.  Then my thoughts turned to two friends from Facebook: one who lost her son this week and another whose brother will die any day now.  My tears were nothing compared to theirs.

Then I thought about the song Soft Kitty from The Big Bang Theory and changed the words to fit the situation:

Sad kitty, sick kitty,

Little ball of fur.

Weak kitty, dead kitty,

No more purr.

At the University...

Well, I’m sitting here at lunch break for my class at the university.  What?  I forgot to tell you that I’m teaching a class at the university?  My bad.  A few weeks ago, a friend of mine from church called me and asked me if I was available to teach a 4-week class at the university where she also teaches.  I had been asked another time to teach, but it just didn’t work out with my schedule.  But the timing of this class was perfect: 4 Saturdays in a row, 8 am – 5 pm.  So, here I am…

It’s a great class.  I’m teaching Module 7 (of 7) for the Fundación de la Universidad Pedigógica Nacional.  At the end of this class, the students will receive a diploma for having learned English.  There are 15 students in the class and most of them have a fairly high degree of proficiency.  The few who are not at the same level are mostly lacking in their conversational skills.  Their comprehension seems to be pretty decent.

This morning, we spent a while watching an episode of The Big Bang Theory.  I wanted to see how much the students could comprehend without subtitles.  At first, only a few people were understanding the show.  By about the middle of it, most of the class seemed to be understanding and laughing at many of the jokes.  After we talked about it and what made it difficult to understand, we watched the same episode again – but with Spanish subtitles.  As might be expected, with subtitles it was much easier for them.

I have a whole afternoon of activities and exercises planned.  Plus, I think we’ll watch another episode of Big Bang Theory.  I’ve been trying to make sure that I have way more material planned than I could possibly need.  That way, if I see that a particular lesson is bombing, I can quickly switch gear.

I got to my classroom early this morning so that I could set up my computer and the projector.  I was also able to walk across the way and buy a couple of baleadas and a bag of orange juice from a street vendor.  While I was sitting outside eating my breakfast, I saw a bus full of police officers pull up. (The university is directly across the street from the police station.)  I watched more than 22 policemen (and women) get off the bus. A busito that probably should not have had more than about 15 people on it.  There were also 10 or 12 mattresses on top of the busito.  It made me think of The Godfather and I wondered if the police were going to “go to the mattresses” to combat the rising crime here in the country.  Not likely, I thought.

For lunch, I walked down to the parquet to see what the street vendors there might be offering.  I decided on a couple of pupusas and a Coke.  I was going to eat in the park and do some serious people watching, but it started raining a little.  Not too hard, but just enough that sitting out in the rain would not have been enjoyable.  I asked for my food to go and walked back to the Pedagógica.  

And that brings you up to the present.  The pupusas were quite good, by the way.  More later…

El Rosario, Part 3...

The feeding program in El Rosario was started by one of the local pastors there.  He was paying for it all out of his own pocket and when that got to be too much for him, he had no choice but to shut it down.  Well, somehow Enlaces and the pastor met.  Yes, I know it was really God, not “somehow”.  Through the generosity of some friends of our ministry, the feeding program was started back up.

What does a feeding program look like?  Well, it’s different in each community, depending on the local needs and money available.  In El Rosario, they are currently feeding 32 children and as many as 10 elderly people.  They are getting breakfast AND lunch, which is a bit more unusual, but definitely needed.

As Trifi, Charly and I went back to the church, I went into the kitchen to talk to the women who were cooking.  They were working on the tortillas.  All by hand.  And these weren’t tortillas made from Maseca, the dry corn meal flour.  These were the much more flavorful masa tortillas. Amazingly, and with no outside help, I spoke with the ladies for at least 20 minutes  -- all in Spanish.  Friday’s lunch consisted of rice, tortillas, spaghetti, and a small piece of chicken.  Meals are usually high on carbs, with the protein being supplied by beans, so I was impressed to see the chicken included in the day’s meal.

Forming the tortillas by hand

Cooking the tortillas

The children arrive in groups since some are eating before they go to school in the afternoon and others are eating after having attended school during the morning session.  But all the children were very orderly and respectful, even though there were only two adults overseeing the whole process.

Trifi with one of the boys, before lunch

There wasn’t a lot for us to do because they are so organized, but Trifi and I both helped serve some of the meals and juice.  Then, we both took pictures.  Many times in settings like that, I feel funny taking pictures, as if the people receiving help are now on display.

Three boys waiting patiently for their lunch

Hunger is no respecter of persons

After a bit, it was time for us to leave.  The trip back home was every bit as wonderful as the ride up.  Plus, we got to see a huge (3 ½ - 4 feet) bright green iguana scoot across the road right in front of us.

We even made it back to Enlaces in time for the weekly chapel service for the teachers and staff.

El Rosario, Part 2...

Trifi, Charly and I arrived in El Rosario around 10:00 am, about an hour after we left Enlaces.  I was impressed by how well we did because it takes 45 minutes to get there by 4WD, so we weren’t really that much slower.

Trifi opened up the gate to the church and we pulled in and found a little patch of shade where we could park.  Then, we talked to the pastor’s wife for a while.  Since we were too late for the morning meal and too early for the lunch meal, we decided to walk around the area a bit.  I got out my camera for our little journey.  We didn’t have any real destination in mind and had about 1 ½ hours to wait.

Leaving the gate, we started out down a little hill, then up another hill, down the other side of the hill, where we turned and went up different hill.  At the top of the third hill or so (maybe it was the 23^rd hill), we stopped and just took in the view.  I had been taking photos the whole time, trying to capture images that will help tell the story of life in this particular village, but snapped a bunch more pics from our wonderful vantage point.

Lovin' the view

A woman with some oranges to sell

 

After a while, we wound our way back down to the point where we had earlier turned 320 degrees.  There were 3 pickup trucks full of people on the road.  At first I thought there might be a funeral and they were all heading to the cemetery, but then I noticed that no one was wailing and there wasn’t another pickup truck with the casket in the back.  Trifi told me that they were simply people who were getting a ride home.  They would jump in the back of the pickups and the driver head out in various directions.  How much you pay depends on how far you go, but it’s usually not much (by our standards).

We found a nice shady place to sit down.  We waited there for a while and when the pickup trucks cleared out, Trifi asked Charly and me if we wanted to get a drink or topogigio at the pulpería that was right there.  (Topogigios are homemade ice pops, made in Dixie cups or little plastic bags.) The pulpería had three flavors of topogigios that day: coco con leche (coconut with milk), cornflakes with milk, and chocolate.  I chose the coco and Charly and Trifi both opted for chocolate. Trifi also bought us little rolls as he explained to me that you normally have a topogigio in one hand and piece of bread in the other.  While we were enjoying our little treat, a man came and sat down near us, topogigio in one hand, bread in the other.  Trifi pointed it out to me.

Charly and Trifi enjoying their topogigio and bread

 

When we finished our snacks, Trifi lay down on the wall and was soon asleep.  He had been working very late the night before.  Very late.  Charly and I were entertained by the sound of Trifi’s snoring and some nearby school children who had found a dead bat in the road.  At first I thought they were playing with a dead mouse, but, no, it was a bat.  They proceeded to poke it, stone it, kick it, and eventually pick it up and start flicking it at each other. Even the girls.

Just before 11:30 am, Trifi woke up and we walked back over to the church for the start of the lunch feeding program.  But, that’s a post for tomorrow.  

Wow!  Who knew that I’d be able to stretch one day’s trip into three separate blog posts?

The Ride to El Rosario...

We were planning to leave at 7:00 am, but this is Honduras… We left a few minutes before 9:00 am. 

Trifi and Charly were going to El Rosario to check out the feeding program we are a part of there.  When I found out, I asked if I could go along.  Trifi said ‘yes’ and then told me they were going by motorcycle.  That sounded fine to me.  In fact, I thought it was great.  Except… I told Trifi and Charly that they would probably have to drive a little slower since I probably wouldn’t be able to go as fast as them on the unpaved roads.  They were both fine with that.

So, a few minutes before 9:00 we were on our motos in front of Enlaces, had a short time of prayer, and then took off.  It was a glorious day.  One of the best, I think, that we’ve had recently.  The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot.  Even though we’re in the midst of the rainy season, it hadn’t rained in over two days, so the humidity was not unbearable.  As we were thanking God for the beautiful day, I realized that the lack of rain for several  days should help us get around in the mountains since the roads probably wouldn’t be overly muddy and puddle laden.

Within 3km, we were out of pavement.  I knew it was going to happen, but I thought we would have paved roads for a bit longer.  Oh, well.  Deal with it, Susan!  Charly was in the lead, me in the middle, and Trifi had our backs, in our little 3-person caravan.   It didn’t take me long before I realized that I was the most skilled of the three of us in this kind of riding.  I’m sure it’s because of my bicycle riding.  I have learned how to pick out the best line without zigging and zagging all over.

I settled in and enjoyed the ride.  The views were magnificent:  The sun was shining.  The sky was an incredible blue canvas that made the brilliant white clouds just pop.  The trees and plants were painted in so many shades and hues of green it was incredible!  Looking out across a valley, I could have easily counted 85 different colors, and all of them would be a variety of green.  Simply breathtaking!

See what I mean?

During the ride, we dodged men with machetes walking along the side of the road.  Some were going from one field to another.  Some were simply going home or wherever.  But they all had machetes.  They always do.  We slowed down to ride through a herd of cattle.  One of them didn’t get the idea that Charly was trying to drive through and kept walking right in front of him.  If Charly turned, he turned directly in front of the moto.  Hmmm, maybe it was because of the red motorcycle?  We wound round and round the mountains, up and down, always trying to find the smoothest line.  I was also aware that overcorrecting might cause one of us to go careening over the edge and that would not be a good thing!!

We passed “fields” of corn growing on almost sheer mountainsides where only a mountain goat should be able to maneuver.  And most of the time, there were so many boulders and rocks in the fields that it was a miracle the corn found any soil in which to take root.  Yet, it had.  The determination of the corn to grow in an area that makes no sense to my U. S. way of thinking mirrors the determination of the people here to eek out a subsistence and actually thrive where they are.

After about one hour of driving, we arrived in El Rosario.  Imagine my surprise when I saw that the town’s roads were paved.  Paved!  With real cement.  That was a welcome treat since our last 500 yards of traveling included making a 320-degree turn on about a 20% grade road.  I stalled out.  In front of locals.  I hadn’t downshifted early enough to make the turn at such a slow speed.  Looks like I gave the people watching just one more thing to talk about:  Not only was I a gringa on a motorcycle, but now they could talk about the gringa on the motorcycle who couldn’t “make the grade”.

That’s all for today.  Tomorrow I’ll add more about El Rosario and the feeding program.