Now that I'm back from Central American Student Convention 2010 and even mostly caught up on sleep, I can start to get caught up with semi-regular blog posts. Or, at least I can plan on it.
Last week I spent 4 days with 42 of our students and 6 other sponsors, taking our kids to CASC 2010, which was held at Campamento Palabra de Vida (Word of Life Camp) in Zambrano. It was a great time. I'm so proud of our students and how well they mostly behaved and of how many medals and trophies they won.
After four long, adventure-filled, sleep-deprived days and nights, we arrived back at the school by 1:30 on Friday afternoon. The bus was unloaded and I was in the shower by 2pm. Interestingly, as exhausted as I was, I couldn't actually sleep when I tried to take a nap. So, after about an hour and a half of tossing and turning, I got up, only slightly refreshed, and started to make a mole hill out of the mountain that had become my email inbox.
On Saturday morning, I decided to take myself out for breakfast and then a leisurely motorcycle ride. But first, laundry. I actually had two loads of laundry washed and on the line quite early. Then, I straightened up the house, which really didn't need much work since both Jenny and I were gone for most of the week. I decided to wait until later in the day to mop the floor, and here it is, Monday, and I still haven't mopped. Shhh. Let's keep that as our secret because floors need to be mopped daily here. Sometimes twice a day.
OK, so about the motorcycle ride. I went to La Princesita for breakfast because baleadas sounded great. And cheap! Just after I ordered, paid and sat down, John and Debra walked in. Good. Now I would have some company for breakfast. John and Debra are from Texas and teach at Ruach, another bilingual school here in town. Like Enlaces, Ruach is an ACE school and was at CASC with us. John went as a sponsor, but Debra didn't go. During breakfast we talked about the convention: the location, the things we liked, the things we thought should change, etc. etc. In many ways, it was your typical Monday morning quarterbacking.
After breakfast, as I got back on my motorcycle outside La Princesita, I decided that my ride's destination would be La Libertad. That was actually an easy decision since I was already near the end of the boulevard and didn't want to battle the heavy traffic on it to head back to the highway to go to Ajuterique. The last time I went to La Libertad, I started out a bit earlier in the morning and saw lots of people out and about on the road and in their yards and fields. However, I got a late start, so it was much hotter now and that meant that fewer people would be out. There were more cars and busitos, but fewer people.
The drive to La Libertad is beautiful, even in the harshness of the dry season. Mountains, pine trees, winding curving roads, scenic views. There were several times where I found my mind drifting back to the Bicycle Tour of Colorado 2003. So much reminded me of riding my bike in the mountains of Colorado. But, just about the time that I would think how similar this all looked to Colorado, I'd be jolted back to reality, reminded of my real locale by banana and palm trees, worn out, run down adobe houses or an ox cart carrying a load of watermelons. No, I definitely was not in Colorado.
Before I knew it, I had made the final twists and turns into La Libertad. At one point, I had planned to just drive to the edge of town and then turn around and head home. However, my moto just seemed to find its way to the center of town and to the pulperia I had been to last time. As I backed the moto in to park, I was keenly aware that all eyes were on me. The sight of a gringa on a motorcycle definitely has that effect on many people.
As I walked in to the now familiar store, I said 'good morning' to the weathered, frail looking woman sitting at the table, eating a plate of rice.
Darn! No Coca Light in glass bottles. I settled for a bottle of Sprite. There's something wonderful about drinking pop out of a glass bottle. Unfortunately, few places seem to have Coca Light en vidrio. With my Sprite and pajilla (straw) in hand, I went back outside and asked the diminutive woman if I could sit down with her.
She motioned with her hand and uttered a few sounds at me. It was then that I realized she was mute. Hmmm, this might be a bit more difficult than I had thought. Well, I tried as best as I could to speak with her, but of course, it was a fairly one sided conversation. I did figure out that she was wanting me to eat something and that she seemed to be pointing me toward a place across the way. I figured they must have the rice. I told her I had just eaten in Comayagua.
A minute or two later, one of the two younger guys who were at another table nearby came over and told me that the woman couldn't speak, but that she always came to the church to pray. We were at the parque central, which usually has a Catholic church as an anchor. I asked if she lived nearby and found out that she did not, but comes to town all the time to pray.
Then, the young man pulled a 20 dollar bill, a US 20 dollar bill, out of his wallet and asked me if I could change it to Lempiras for him. I checked, but didn't have enough money with me. When I asked how he got a 20 dollar bill, I found out that he sells hammocks and had been in Comayagua, selling there. By the time I turned my attention back to my new friend, she had her carnet (identification card) out, showing me who she was. Then, she motioned to me, asking me to give her some money. I'm sure she had been paying close attention when I looked to see if I could make change for the other guy. Well, I tried to ignore her request, and suddenly became very interested in my bottle of Sprite for a few minutes. I excused myself from the table and went to bring my empty bottle back inside.
In the store, I asked the ladies there if they knew the woman. I found out that she lived in one of the colonias and was very poor. I told them that she had asked me for money, but I never give money to someone. I inquired as to whether they had sugar and rice, and was told, 'yes'. "Démelo, por favor" (Give me some, please.) I ended up buying small bags of sugar, rice and beans for the woman. Frankly, she was so small and frail that she looked like a strong wind would blow her over.
Back outside, I put the bag on the table and told her that this was a regalito for her. A gift. She looked at me, confused. I said it again, "this is a gift for you. It's all yours." Then, I took out the sugar. Wow! Her eyes got huge and I knew that sugar probably didn't appear in her house too often. I also showed her the beans and rice, repeating that they were for her. I prayed for her, and then gave her a hug and kiss before getting back on my moto. As I did, the young guy I had been talking to earlier, said "thank you". Without thinking about it, I had apparently touched more than one heart.
As I rode back to Comayagua, I found myself mentally creating a MasterCard commercial ~~
Glass bottle of Sprite: 8 Lempiras (42¢)
Small bag of food: 54 Lempiras ($2.85)
Investing in the Kingdom of God: PRICELESS
Monday, March 29, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
It's Mango Season...
Well, almost mango season.
I went for a bike ride this morning, just to keep my legs fresh. I had ridden on Saturday, and when I first got on the bike today, my sit-upons were feeling a little, well, sat upon. Within a few minutes I was feeling better, though. It was cool and there was just a bit of misting going on this morning. Then, there was a headwind during the parts where I go slightly uphill. Ah, it felt like riding in Kansas. Almost.
Yes, the temp, wind and mist all combined to make me feel like I could have been riding in Kansas, maybe on the Wicked Wind. Except for the part where we all had to slow down because there were two different ox carts creating a traffic jam. Or the part where I had to ride through the vultures on the corner that were munching on some roadkill. At least the vultures had managed to drag the dearly departed dog a bit further onto the sidewalk, rather than where he and they were yesterday: right in the roadway. Or the part where a lady was burning her trash in the road in front of her house. I guess maybe the Kansas comparison quickly fades, huh?
After my ride, I showered, did a load of laundry and headed out toward the post office. My parents' anniversary is in three weeks and I'm hoping that the card I sent out today will actually get to them in time. It's the first time I've mailed things from here, so I'll just take the ever popular 'wait and see' approach. It cost 42 Lempiras to send my Hallmark wishes northbound. Yup, Hallmark. When Sandi and I were in HiperPaiz last week, I looked for anniversary cards and actually found one I liked. Mom & Dad may have to take it to their church to have the Assistant Pastor translate it, but I was glad that I managed to find a card.
As I left the post office, I was rubbing excess glue off my fingers. Oh, I forgot to tell you that you don't lick the stamps here. They weigh your letter, sell you the stamps and then offer you the glue. Basically, it was a bit of Elmers in a cap from a spray paint or hair spray can with a Popsicle stick in it. After sticking on your stamps, you need to wait just a little bit so that the glue can dry and your letter won't get stuck to others.
Excess glue off my fingers, I continued walking back toward the mercado and home. When I got to my friend Walter's corner fruit stand, I stopped to talk to him for a few minutes. I saw that he had some mangos, but they were the small ones, the ones that are picked green, cut and served with salt, vinegar, hot sauce, etc. But at least these ones were a bit more ripe. I asked Walter if he had any of the large mangos yet. He said that he did. I asked if they were sweet and ripe. He said, "yes" and plopped one down in front of me.
Honestly, the mango looked a bit sad. It was starting to wrinkle, from being old, and was yellow and green with no signs of red. But Walter assured me it was a good one. I paid my 10 Lempiras and put the mango in my purse. I knew that the price was super expensive because it's so early in the season. I also know that once mango season really gets under way, people will be giving them away by the bagful -- kind of like the over-productive cucumbers of a Kansas summer. Still, I didn't mind paying 10 Lemps if I had a good piece of fruit to consume.
Once home, I got out my mango splitter, ready to christen it on the first mango of the season. I'll be darned, but the skin seemed too tough for the splitter. Maybe I should have peeled it first? Plan B was to follow AB's foolproof mango cutting instructions. Sorry, I couldn't find an actual Alton Brown demo of it, but this video is pretty much the same as I remember AB cutting it.
Mango cut and released of its skin, there was nothing left to do but taste. And, oh my, was it tasty! I stood over the sink and quickly consumed ('inhaled' might be a better word) the whole thing. Walter's record of never selling me a bad piece of fruit remains untarnished.
I am absolutely convinced that it was not an apple, but a mango, that satan used in the garden to tempt Eve. And with fruit as heavenly as a mango, it's at least a bit understandable why she gave in to the temptation. OK, not really, but I stand by my assertion that mangos are heavenly!
So, for the record: Let mango season begin!
I went for a bike ride this morning, just to keep my legs fresh. I had ridden on Saturday, and when I first got on the bike today, my sit-upons were feeling a little, well, sat upon. Within a few minutes I was feeling better, though. It was cool and there was just a bit of misting going on this morning. Then, there was a headwind during the parts where I go slightly uphill. Ah, it felt like riding in Kansas. Almost.
Yes, the temp, wind and mist all combined to make me feel like I could have been riding in Kansas, maybe on the Wicked Wind. Except for the part where we all had to slow down because there were two different ox carts creating a traffic jam. Or the part where I had to ride through the vultures on the corner that were munching on some roadkill. At least the vultures had managed to drag the dearly departed dog a bit further onto the sidewalk, rather than where he and they were yesterday: right in the roadway. Or the part where a lady was burning her trash in the road in front of her house. I guess maybe the Kansas comparison quickly fades, huh?
After my ride, I showered, did a load of laundry and headed out toward the post office. My parents' anniversary is in three weeks and I'm hoping that the card I sent out today will actually get to them in time. It's the first time I've mailed things from here, so I'll just take the ever popular 'wait and see' approach. It cost 42 Lempiras to send my Hallmark wishes northbound. Yup, Hallmark. When Sandi and I were in HiperPaiz last week, I looked for anniversary cards and actually found one I liked. Mom & Dad may have to take it to their church to have the Assistant Pastor translate it, but I was glad that I managed to find a card.
As I left the post office, I was rubbing excess glue off my fingers. Oh, I forgot to tell you that you don't lick the stamps here. They weigh your letter, sell you the stamps and then offer you the glue. Basically, it was a bit of Elmers in a cap from a spray paint or hair spray can with a Popsicle stick in it. After sticking on your stamps, you need to wait just a little bit so that the glue can dry and your letter won't get stuck to others.
Excess glue off my fingers, I continued walking back toward the mercado and home. When I got to my friend Walter's corner fruit stand, I stopped to talk to him for a few minutes. I saw that he had some mangos, but they were the small ones, the ones that are picked green, cut and served with salt, vinegar, hot sauce, etc. But at least these ones were a bit more ripe. I asked Walter if he had any of the large mangos yet. He said that he did. I asked if they were sweet and ripe. He said, "yes" and plopped one down in front of me.
Honestly, the mango looked a bit sad. It was starting to wrinkle, from being old, and was yellow and green with no signs of red. But Walter assured me it was a good one. I paid my 10 Lempiras and put the mango in my purse. I knew that the price was super expensive because it's so early in the season. I also know that once mango season really gets under way, people will be giving them away by the bagful -- kind of like the over-productive cucumbers of a Kansas summer. Still, I didn't mind paying 10 Lemps if I had a good piece of fruit to consume.
Once home, I got out my mango splitter, ready to christen it on the first mango of the season. I'll be darned, but the skin seemed too tough for the splitter. Maybe I should have peeled it first? Plan B was to follow AB's foolproof mango cutting instructions. Sorry, I couldn't find an actual Alton Brown demo of it, but this video is pretty much the same as I remember AB cutting it.
Mango cut and released of its skin, there was nothing left to do but taste. And, oh my, was it tasty! I stood over the sink and quickly consumed ('inhaled' might be a better word) the whole thing. Walter's record of never selling me a bad piece of fruit remains untarnished.
I am absolutely convinced that it was not an apple, but a mango, that satan used in the garden to tempt Eve. And with fruit as heavenly as a mango, it's at least a bit understandable why she gave in to the temptation. OK, not really, but I stand by my assertion that mangos are heavenly!
So, for the record: Let mango season begin!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Ready for Convention...
The Central American Student Convention begins on Tuesday morning, and I think I'm pretty much ready for it now. Except for packing. After church today I went to the store to buy some of the clothing I need for it. Flip flops and sandals are unacceptable footwear, so I ended up spending 330 Lempiras to buy a pair of closed-toe dress shoes. Then, I also bought a pair of warm-up style pants so that I'd be dressed appropriately on athletic competition days. I even found a pair of knee high stockings so that I don't have to wear regular stockings. Even the thought of wearing a pair of stockings is repulsive, but since the skirts I have don't cover my ankles, I have to wear hose. So, I'm going to fudge it a bit and wear knee highs since I have a skirt that should be long enough to accommodate them and still not have to wear the real thing, the completely restrictive, utterly repressive-in-this-heat stockings. What? You think that perhaps the clothing standards might be a bit restrictive and puritanical? But wait, there's more.
Today I found out that if my blouses/shirts expose the bones at the top of the rib cage (clavicle, I think, but the ones less than an inch from my thyroid neck scar) they are considered too low and revealing? Seriously? Now, that's downright puritanical. I mean, I dress quite modestly already, but am starting to feel that maybe I should head down to the Catholic church tomorrow and see if the nuns have a few habits I can borrow. Thankfully, it will all be over by Friday afternoon and I can go back to being myself. Dressing like myself! Total cost for today's purchases: 724 Lempiras ($38.33 USD).
The good part about my afternoon shopping trip is that after I was done, I just took a bit of a leisurely spin on my motorcycle. My packages were safely ensconced in my mochila (backpack), so I just rode. I took the road that heads up toward the Oki. I rode until I ran out of pavement and then drove just a little bit further before turning around and heading back. It felt great to be out there in the sun.
On my way back, I decided to stop by a store to try to buy a second helmet. They were closed, so I'll try again either tomorrow or Saturday. Right now, I can't (legally) have a passenger with me unless they happen to have their own helmet. Although, you might be surprised at some of the motorcycle "helmets" I've seen people wearing. I've seen bicycle helmets, hard hats, and even toy fireman's helmets. Yes. Really. Toy fireman's helmets being used as a motorcycle helmet. And, apparently that's just fine, because I've never seen any of those people being pulled over. I'm sure my passengers will appreciate the fact that I value their lives just a bit more than buying them a party favor and calling it a helmet.
Actually though, I'm really hoping to buy myself a new motorcycle helmet when I'm in the States. I don't really trust the ones here. There are no DOT or Snell certifications. Plus, it seems that most of the helmets here are full-face closed helmets, which I find really limit your vision. I'm wearing an open-face helmet with a shield and I actually like it, but, it's black and very, very hot. I can't get it in white or any other light color. So, I'll be checking out a few places to see if I can find a helmet.
How about that? From clothing to motorcycle rides and helmets in just one post.
Today I found out that if my blouses/shirts expose the bones at the top of the rib cage (clavicle, I think, but the ones less than an inch from my thyroid neck scar) they are considered too low and revealing? Seriously? Now, that's downright puritanical. I mean, I dress quite modestly already, but am starting to feel that maybe I should head down to the Catholic church tomorrow and see if the nuns have a few habits I can borrow. Thankfully, it will all be over by Friday afternoon and I can go back to being myself. Dressing like myself! Total cost for today's purchases: 724 Lempiras ($38.33 USD).
The good part about my afternoon shopping trip is that after I was done, I just took a bit of a leisurely spin on my motorcycle. My packages were safely ensconced in my mochila (backpack), so I just rode. I took the road that heads up toward the Oki. I rode until I ran out of pavement and then drove just a little bit further before turning around and heading back. It felt great to be out there in the sun.
On my way back, I decided to stop by a store to try to buy a second helmet. They were closed, so I'll try again either tomorrow or Saturday. Right now, I can't (legally) have a passenger with me unless they happen to have their own helmet. Although, you might be surprised at some of the motorcycle "helmets" I've seen people wearing. I've seen bicycle helmets, hard hats, and even toy fireman's helmets. Yes. Really. Toy fireman's helmets being used as a motorcycle helmet. And, apparently that's just fine, because I've never seen any of those people being pulled over. I'm sure my passengers will appreciate the fact that I value their lives just a bit more than buying them a party favor and calling it a helmet.
Actually though, I'm really hoping to buy myself a new motorcycle helmet when I'm in the States. I don't really trust the ones here. There are no DOT or Snell certifications. Plus, it seems that most of the helmets here are full-face closed helmets, which I find really limit your vision. I'm wearing an open-face helmet with a shield and I actually like it, but, it's black and very, very hot. I can't get it in white or any other light color. So, I'll be checking out a few places to see if I can find a helmet.
How about that? From clothing to motorcycle rides and helmets in just one post.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Excuse Me, Can You Spare a Few Days?...
A few extra days would be awesome. So, if anyone has some just laying around, not being used, please pass them my way. In fact, if you have a couple of days that are only slightly used, with plenty of hours left in them, I'll take those as well. That's how it often feels around here. I find myself saying things like, "It's Thursday already? What happened to Tuesday and Wednesday, because I know that yesterday was Monday?"
Those lapses of time are simply amazing, especially in a culture where it seems that relatively few people value the ticking of the clock. Except when they're driving. Then, everybody has to be somewhere NOW! And, they're bound and determined to get there before you. It doesn't matter if I'm going slow because the 18-wheeler in front of me can't muster any more steam to get up the mountain, and I'm too cautious to pass him on a blind curve, in construction, in the dark. The dude behind me will pass us both, usually getting back into our quasi-lane of traffic mere micro seconds before being flattened by the oncoming 18-wheeler that only has one headlight.
On the road. That, my friends, seems to be the only time most Hondurans give a flip about time. Personally, I think they're all just Dale wannabees.
So, if you happen to find a few extra days, let me know. I can probably even pack them into my suitcase when I'm back in the States in SIX WEEKS.
Those lapses of time are simply amazing, especially in a culture where it seems that relatively few people value the ticking of the clock. Except when they're driving. Then, everybody has to be somewhere NOW! And, they're bound and determined to get there before you. It doesn't matter if I'm going slow because the 18-wheeler in front of me can't muster any more steam to get up the mountain, and I'm too cautious to pass him on a blind curve, in construction, in the dark. The dude behind me will pass us both, usually getting back into our quasi-lane of traffic mere micro seconds before being flattened by the oncoming 18-wheeler that only has one headlight.
On the road. That, my friends, seems to be the only time most Hondurans give a flip about time. Personally, I think they're all just Dale wannabees.
So, if you happen to find a few extra days, let me know. I can probably even pack them into my suitcase when I'm back in the States in SIX WEEKS.
Monday, March 15, 2010
A Hug and a Kiss at the Supermarket...
Today has been a long day, and even though I should make another entry about the medical brigade, I'm tired. But, something happened this evening that I thought would make for a good blog post.
This evening all four of us ladies were headed toward the grocery store. Sandi was driving and Brenda, Jenny and I were opening the gate. The other two girls went through, to get into the truck, when we spotted a very drunk, very shirtless guy coming toward us, a bottle of Tatascan in hand. Tatascan is Honduran rot gut. I've never tried it and have absolutely no intention of doing so.
Anyway, the dude was walking directly toward us. I told Brenda and Jenny to get in the truck with Sandi. But the guy was also trying to get in the back of the pickup. I told him to get down and go, but he just said something in Spanish which I couldn't understand. Currie came out and tried to run interference for us. I locked the gate, and got in the front of the pickup. Then, so that Currie could get back inside, Sandi called the drunk guy over to her window, which was cracked open just enough to talk. She distracted the guy while Currie went back inside. Then we headed to the grocery store. Just another average day in Honduras.
At the grocery store, we all kind of separated so that we could get the things we needed. I was happily picking out some of the incredible produce they had tonight: zucchini, summer squash, bataste, carrots, etc. Suddenly, I was being hugged and kissed by a man. No warning, just a hug and a kiss. It turns out that it was Wilmer, from church, and was totally innocent, but it shocked me anyway. I mean, I must have been so caught up in my veggie euphoria that I just didn't see him. I quickly composed myself and told him that we were all there this evening. He said that he had already seen Sandi and Jenny. Whew! Tell Doris that I said 'hello', Wilmer!
This evening all four of us ladies were headed toward the grocery store. Sandi was driving and Brenda, Jenny and I were opening the gate. The other two girls went through, to get into the truck, when we spotted a very drunk, very shirtless guy coming toward us, a bottle of Tatascan in hand. Tatascan is Honduran rot gut. I've never tried it and have absolutely no intention of doing so.
Anyway, the dude was walking directly toward us. I told Brenda and Jenny to get in the truck with Sandi. But the guy was also trying to get in the back of the pickup. I told him to get down and go, but he just said something in Spanish which I couldn't understand. Currie came out and tried to run interference for us. I locked the gate, and got in the front of the pickup. Then, so that Currie could get back inside, Sandi called the drunk guy over to her window, which was cracked open just enough to talk. She distracted the guy while Currie went back inside. Then we headed to the grocery store. Just another average day in Honduras.
At the grocery store, we all kind of separated so that we could get the things we needed. I was happily picking out some of the incredible produce they had tonight: zucchini, summer squash, bataste, carrots, etc. Suddenly, I was being hugged and kissed by a man. No warning, just a hug and a kiss. It turns out that it was Wilmer, from church, and was totally innocent, but it shocked me anyway. I mean, I must have been so caught up in my veggie euphoria that I just didn't see him. I quickly composed myself and told him that we were all there this evening. He said that he had already seen Sandi and Jenny. Whew! Tell Doris that I said 'hello', Wilmer!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Medical Brigade, Part 2
After Sunday's clinic at the garbage dump, Monday we were headed up the mountain to La Oki. About a week before we were there for the clinic, the mountain had suffered a fire which melted the tubes that bring water to the community. One of the Bridge Ministries partners had been up there with us right after the fire and he told us to buy the tubing that they needed and that he would pay for it. So, along with lots of medical supplies, a generator, a welding machine, new iron gates for the school, two new bookcases, school supplies and about 25 or 26 people, we loaded the plastic tubing onto the chicken truck for the ride up the mountain. What's a chicken truck? So glad you asked...
Here's the chicken truck being loaded with stuff at Enlaces:
And here it is being loaded with people:
Then it's time for a 45-minute ride up the mountain, mostly in 4-wheel drive territory. Yes, we stand in the truck. After arriving at the Oki, it was time to unload the chicken truck:
The people were waiting patiently for us when we got there, even though the sun was already blazing:
The team got set up and began the triage process:
By the end of the day, the doctors had seen about 200 people. The ride down the mountain seemed a lot faster than the ride up! It was a great day!
Here's the chicken truck being loaded with stuff at Enlaces:
And here it is being loaded with people:
Then it's time for a 45-minute ride up the mountain, mostly in 4-wheel drive territory. Yes, we stand in the truck. After arriving at the Oki, it was time to unload the chicken truck:
The people were waiting patiently for us when we got there, even though the sun was already blazing:
The team got set up and began the triage process:
By the end of the day, the doctors had seen about 200 people. The ride down the mountain seemed a lot faster than the ride up! It was a great day!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Medical Brigade, Part I...
It's been a long week and I know I have a lot of catching up to do, so here goes...
Last Saturday evening, a team of 21 arrived in San Pedro Sula. Because their flight didn't get in until almost 9:30pm, and they would still need to go through Immigrations and Customs, we all stayed in San Pedro for the night. Sandi & I had their rooms ready and waiting to go when they got there so that all they needed to do was sleep.
Up early on Sunday morning, the whole group had breakfast at the restaurant in Villa Nuria. Then it was time to load up the Enlaces bus and head back to Comayagua. I was riding with Currie and Samuel in the pickup, and Sandi rode on the bus with the group to give them a bit of an introduction. Between the bus and the pickup, we had a great game of leap frog going for a while.
Once everyone arrived in Comayagua, the group checked in to their hotel and then walked over to Enlaces for lunch. Rosy fixed a fine meal of tacos catrachos (Honduran tacos) for us! With full bellies, the team was now ready to head out to the day's clinic destination: the garbage dump. I planned to drive out to the dump on my motorcycle. In retrospect, that may not have been one of my wisest decisions.
After we (the bus and the moto) turned off of the main highway, we were in four wheel drive territory all the way. The bus quickly dropped me as I hung back a little so as not to eat dust. The rode grew increasingly rough and soon I couldn't see the bus. I started to get a little worried because I didn't remember the active dump area to be so far back. I finally caught up to the group and Hermes told me that my memory was correct, that the 'working' part of the dump used to be much closer to the highway.
It only took a few minutes for the team of nurses, doctors and the pharmacy folks to get set up and acquainted with their translators. All in all, it was a great first day. 39 people were seen for medical issues and 6 of them gave their lives to Jesus, as well!! I was surprised that the number of people out there was so low because we know that there are about 80 people who actually live at the dump.
In the picture below, you can see huge bags and piles in the background. The bags are filled with plastic that has been recovered from the trash and will be taken to be be recycled. By doing this, the people earn a few centavos. How they manage to eek out even a subsistence completely baffles me.
Before leaving that afternoon, we also handed out some food that we had brought with us. It wasn't much, but it was food that we did not want to go to waste and the people were grateful to receive it.
In this picture, Belen is talking to a patient as we use the side of the bus to offer a little shade and protection from the wind.
Last Saturday evening, a team of 21 arrived in San Pedro Sula. Because their flight didn't get in until almost 9:30pm, and they would still need to go through Immigrations and Customs, we all stayed in San Pedro for the night. Sandi & I had their rooms ready and waiting to go when they got there so that all they needed to do was sleep.
Up early on Sunday morning, the whole group had breakfast at the restaurant in Villa Nuria. Then it was time to load up the Enlaces bus and head back to Comayagua. I was riding with Currie and Samuel in the pickup, and Sandi rode on the bus with the group to give them a bit of an introduction. Between the bus and the pickup, we had a great game of leap frog going for a while.
Once everyone arrived in Comayagua, the group checked in to their hotel and then walked over to Enlaces for lunch. Rosy fixed a fine meal of tacos catrachos (Honduran tacos) for us! With full bellies, the team was now ready to head out to the day's clinic destination: the garbage dump. I planned to drive out to the dump on my motorcycle. In retrospect, that may not have been one of my wisest decisions.
After we (the bus and the moto) turned off of the main highway, we were in four wheel drive territory all the way. The bus quickly dropped me as I hung back a little so as not to eat dust. The rode grew increasingly rough and soon I couldn't see the bus. I started to get a little worried because I didn't remember the active dump area to be so far back. I finally caught up to the group and Hermes told me that my memory was correct, that the 'working' part of the dump used to be much closer to the highway.
It only took a few minutes for the team of nurses, doctors and the pharmacy folks to get set up and acquainted with their translators. All in all, it was a great first day. 39 people were seen for medical issues and 6 of them gave their lives to Jesus, as well!! I was surprised that the number of people out there was so low because we know that there are about 80 people who actually live at the dump.
In the picture below, you can see huge bags and piles in the background. The bags are filled with plastic that has been recovered from the trash and will be taken to be be recycled. By doing this, the people earn a few centavos. How they manage to eek out even a subsistence completely baffles me.
Before leaving that afternoon, we also handed out some food that we had brought with us. It wasn't much, but it was food that we did not want to go to waste and the people were grateful to receive it.
In this picture, Belen is talking to a patient as we use the side of the bus to offer a little shade and protection from the wind.
Friday, March 5, 2010
And Other Places...
It's been a busy week and it's going to continue on for another week. After our trip to Ajuterique on Monday, we went to La Esperanza and Intibucá on Tuesday. That was about a 3-hour drive each way. I've got lots of great photos and I really will post them. Eventually. Right now, though, I'm just trying to get this update out on the interwebs before I need to head out to get some groceries with Sandi.
We're going to get the groceries for the school for next week and for a group of 22 that arrives tomorrow. I imagine we'll have three carts full of food!! The group arriving tomorrow will be doing medical brigades and some construction projects. The group arrives in San Pedro Sula about 9:30pm tomorrow, so by the time they all get through immigrations, luggage pick up, and customs, it will probably be about 11:00pm. So, we're just planning to spend the night in SPS.
The four of us (Currie, Sandi, Samuel, and me) will head up there sometime tomorrow to get the last minute shopping done. We'll also check into Villa Nuria and get all the rooms assigned and ready. Sunday morning, breakfast is provided by Villa Nuria. After that, it's on to the Enlaces bus to head back to Comayagua. We should make it back here right around lunch time.
Lunch will probably be something light, then we all head out to the garbage dump for a medical clinic. Yes, I'll be taking lots of pics. Don't worry. Once the clinic is finished, it will be just about time for dinner. Then probably group devotions and bed.
Monday morning, it starts all over again. And that will be our week. Some members of the team will also be doing various construction projects, including building desks ('offices' in ACE lingo) for the school. So, yes, it will be a busy week.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Ajuterique...
Today the 7th grade class was planning to take food and school supplies to Ajuterique. I decided to join them, but rode there on my motorcycle so that I could get out and enjoy the sun a bit. Ajuterique is one of the areas where we have a feeding program. Basically, it works like this: if the kids will attend school, we will feed them. It's pretty simple, really. Kids learn better when they have food in their bellies.
All of our food programs have been started in areas where there was no school or just a feeble attempt at a school. Usually within the first year of starting such a program, the government takes notice and often sends in a teacher. Ajuterique is no different. The teacher there is very dedicated to seeing his kids and the community succeed.
Today when he was asked what needs they have, the teacher was honest and said that they don't have any pots big enough to cook for the 31 children who are now attending school. He told us that several mothers bring their pots each day so that the food can be cooked.
After returning to Comayagua, Sandi, Nubia, and Jimmy, who is visiting from the US, went to the market and purchased two very large pots and some utensils for Ajuterique. Later in the afternoon, we made another trip back there. The reaction among the teacher and several of the mothers was as if we had just given them gold. They were thrilled. The teacher told us that he had a community meeting later that day and he was going to show everyone the new pots they had.
It was great to see such joy on their faces, but it made me wonder: Do we miss opportunities to be thankful in the midst of seemingly simple things?
All of our food programs have been started in areas where there was no school or just a feeble attempt at a school. Usually within the first year of starting such a program, the government takes notice and often sends in a teacher. Ajuterique is no different. The teacher there is very dedicated to seeing his kids and the community succeed.
Today when he was asked what needs they have, the teacher was honest and said that they don't have any pots big enough to cook for the 31 children who are now attending school. He told us that several mothers bring their pots each day so that the food can be cooked.
After returning to Comayagua, Sandi, Nubia, and Jimmy, who is visiting from the US, went to the market and purchased two very large pots and some utensils for Ajuterique. Later in the afternoon, we made another trip back there. The reaction among the teacher and several of the mothers was as if we had just given them gold. They were thrilled. The teacher told us that he had a community meeting later that day and he was going to show everyone the new pots they had.
It was great to see such joy on their faces, but it made me wonder: Do we miss opportunities to be thankful in the midst of seemingly simple things?
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