New Year, New Goals...

I'm not one of those who is normally given to making New Year's resolutions.  They're usually a lesson in futility... We look at the New Year and say, "I'm going to lose a thousand pounds," or some other such nonsense, and by January 15th we're so tired of eating carrots and spinach like a rabbit that all our resolve goes out the window.  At least, that's how they have always been for me; maybe your mileage varies.

I do, however, set goals.  Yes, they are technically very similar to resolutions, but, at least in my mind, they're a bit different.  Primarily because I don't wait until January 1 to set a new goal.  I set them when I need to.

For instance, when I received my Kindle as a gift a year and  a half ago, I set a goal to read through the Bible in a year.  And I did it.  The Kindle made it much easier to read my Bible every day.  I have read through the One Year Bible 1 1/2 times since then.  On Sunday, I'll embark on a new Bible reading plan by reading through the One Year Chronological Bible.  But the point is, I set that goal mid-year and have stuck to it.

I do have a new goal for the New Year: My goal is to update my blog at least twice a week.  There.  It's now out on them there interwebs for the whole world to read.  At least all 7 of you who are reading regularly.

Other goals are in the pipeline (Like that little bit of business-speak?), but I'll share those later as appropriate.  I mean, I wouldn't want to overwhelm you or possibly even shame you into setting a resolution of losing a thousand pounds...

Happy New Year's Eve Eve!

Car Troubles. Again...

You might remember my post from a while back, when I went with Sandi to the airport to pick up Adán and we had car trouble on the way home.  Well, Sandi had car trouble two weeks later when she was returning from the airport again.  And, the trouble was basically the same thing as the day I was with her: some issue that makes the truck act like it has no power, even when it’s floored.  It just gets slower and slower and slower, struggling to climb the mountains until it pretty much can’t go anymore.

In the past month or so, the car has been in the shop more than it’s been out, trying to get the issue resolved.  Every time we think it’s fixed, it turns out that it isn’t.  Monday was no different.

When Sandi and I were returning from Tegucigalpa, we had major car trouble again.  Only this time we had passengers.  While in the mountains near Tegus, in the construction zones, a young man told Sandi that he and his friends were from Comayagua and came out each day to sell their stuff on the road.  He asked if we could give them a lift to Comayagua, if we were going that far.  Sandi said, “sure”, and motioned for the kids to hop in the back of the truck.  Within 30 seconds, we had 4 teenagers and their wares in the paila (the back of the pickup truck).

All was well for a while, but by the time we reached Zambrano, the truck was really struggling. Sandi and I were praying that we’d make it home safely and without incident.  A few minutes later, we were going downhill, and the truck did much better.  But, like all good things, the downhill ended and we were heading upward again.  The engine whined and sputtered as if it were gasping for its last breath.  Really.  That’s what it sounded like.  It was as if the car was out of gas, which it wasn’t, and was pulsing ahead, trying to drain every last drop of life from the gas tank.

At one point, Sandi just stopped by the side of the road and we waited for a few minutes, which seemed to help some.  We continued on, but we both knew we were limping.  I called Trifi and told him what was going on and asked him to be prepared to come get us if it got worse.

It got worse.  We ended up pulling off the road less than 500 meters from where the base (Soto Cano Air Base) started.  I called Trifi again and he started the process of coming to get us and being prepared to tow the truck.

The guys in the back of the truck all added their two cents as to what they thought was happening.  Most of them thought we were out of gas, which we assured them we weren’t.  It turns out that the kids knew Sandi.  They said, “You’re from Enlaces, aren’t you?”  Sandi said, “yes”.  The oldest boy said, “I don’t see you there much anymore.”  Sandi replied with, “Well, I live there and I’m there all the time.”  With that, the young man admitted that it had been a while since he’s been to the Center.  He asked about Hector, and Sandi said, “Hmmm, it’s been a really long time since you’ve been to Enlaces.  Hector has been gone for about a year and a half and we have a new director.”  He admitted that, yes, it’s been quite a while.  Sandi encouraged him and his friends to come on out again and see what’s happening at the Center.  She also invited them to participate in one of the Bible studies that take place here.

After a while of waiting for Trifi and Alex, the boys decided that they were going to try their own luck to get to Comayagua.  Within about 30 seconds of their decision, they were able to flag down a passing bus and I’m sure that they were in town in about 10 or 15 minutes.  We were only about 10km from home.

Sandi and I sat there in the dark, waiting for Trifi.  It didn’t take long.  Thankfully.  Sandi decided to try to drive home because by now, the car would have cooled off, or whatever, and the power would be restored.  I really thought we were dealing with some kind of electrical problem, based on some of the symptoms.

As you may have already guessed, Sandi was able to drive the truck home with only a little difficulty.  I had switched and gone with Alex in his truck so that Trifi could ride with Sandi and hopefully experience enough of the problem to be able to accurately relay the info to the mechanic.

The truck is back.  Again.  I guess only a long drive, like to Tegucigalpa or San Pedro Sula, will let us know if it’s really fixed.  It seems to do just fine around town and even to distances like Siguatepeque.

It sure would be great, though, to have reliable cars.  But where would our faith be?

A Trip to Migraciones...

With all the excitement and, dare I say frustration, of yesterday’s post about my parking lot saga, I completely skipped over posting about renewing my carnet on Monday.  So here goes…

Sandi and I had planned to leave Comayagua around 7:00 am, and we weren’t too far off from that.  I think it was right around 7:15 when we pulled out.  Our first stop was to get some gas.  Then we were off, dodging potholes - some as large as small farm ponds - and zigging and zagging through construction, until we got to Flores. At Flores, the potholes were mostly gone and it was just a matter of dealing with the road construction.

We made it to Migraciones around 9:30 or so.  I got in a line that looked promising, handed the woman my folder of stuff and was quickly given a paper to take to the bank to pay.  After paying, I was back at the first window, where I was told I was ready to go and just needed to have a seat and wait for one of the other windows to be available.  So, Sandi & I sat. 

A few minutes later, I started to feel a bit uneasy, as if we were waiting for nothing, so I got up and went to one of the windows that I was supposed to be waiting for – the line was long and all the chairs filled.  I just kind of stood there until the young man at the window left.  Then I skipped the line to ask the woman a “quick question”.

I’m glad I did that, because it turned out that I was missing one paper that was needed for my renewal.  We called Erica, back at Enlaces, and explained what we needed. Erica would email me the letter I was missing.   Then, we drove over to the mall to go to the internet café.

Ha!  The internet café in Mall Multiplaza is gone!!  Calling Trifi, we found out there’s an internet café in Plaza Miraflores.  That was on our way back to Migraciones, which was a good thing.  I checked my email, printed out the letter I needed and paid less than $ 1.00 for all that.  We were soon back at Migraciones.

By then, the long line was down to just two people in front of me, but it was quickly approaching 12 noon.  Pretty much everything at Migraciones stops for lunch at noon.  Sandi and I were both praying we’d be done and not have to come back after lunch.  Cutting to the chase, we were.  By 12:05pm I had my new carnet in my hand.  I’m legal for another year!!

Next stop:  shopping!!  With Thanksgiving and Christmas right around the corner, there are lots of things we need.  Our first store was Stock.  Stock is kind of an overstock price club.  We both found a few things there, and then got back in the car to head to PriceSmart (think Costco or Sam’s Club).

Right behind PriceSmart, we saw a brand new Stock, so of course we needed to check it out.  Wow!!  It was awesome, like being a kid in a candy store.  I’m hoping that they end up keeping both stores open since they have different things in each store.  Finally, we made our way over to PriceSmart.

It was a bit disappointing that PriceSmart didn’t have more things that we needed.  No turkeys at all!  And they’re not planning to get any.  They were also out of other things we normally buy.  Oh, well. The trip wasn’t a total waste:  I splurged and bought a big bag of Christmas M&M’s.

We had wanted to leave Tegucigalpa by about 3:00pm so that we’d be home before or right at dark.  It was 4:00pm when we left, so we weren’t too far off schedule, but we knew we’d be doing the final pothole-laden section of road in the dark.  As it turned out, we didn’t get home until 7:00pm – even though it’s only a 1 ½ hour drive, but I’ll leave that for another post.

Despite car troubles, it was a good day:  I’m a legal resident of Honduras for another year!!

You've Got to Be Kidding Me...

Most of the time, the things here that make no real sense just kind of roll off me like water off a duck's back.  Usually, the "Honduran way" of doing things is just something I take in stride, even when it's completely antiquated or unnecessary and could be easily moved into the current century, the here and now.

And then there are days like today, days I come completely unglued at the idiocy of doing things a certain way "just because" those are the rules. Even when those rules make absolutely no sense at all.

I was out on my motorcycle, running some errands, and the last thing I needed to do before heading home was a quick stop at the bank.  A "quick stop at the bank" can be a huge oxymoron, but, hey, I was operating in faith! 

I pulled up at the entrance of the mall and the guard waved me off.  He pointed at me, then an area outside the gate, gesturing that I should park there.  He hadn't spoken a word.  I held my hand out for the parking pass and he gestured again, more strongly this time. I told him, "I speak Spanish; you can talk to me."  He told me that the motorcycle parking was full and that I'd have to park outside the gate.  I told him to call the guard at the other end of the parking lot (where the motorcycles are) because the parking lot was half empty.  Amazingly, he did, but said the same thing:  the motorcycle parking was full and I needed to park my motorcycle outside the gate.  I asked him that if I parked there, was he responsible to watch my moto?  No, of course not.  That's what I thought!  I asked him to give me the parking pass because the lot was half empty and I needed only 15 minutes to go to the bank.  I told him that it was ridiculous that the parking lot had so many empty spaces and he wouldn't let me in.  I told him that it wasn't my fault that most of the moto parking was occupied by employees of the businesses.

Nope.  Not gonna happen.  We stood there arguing for about another minute.  Me sitting on my moto, blocking the entrance to the lot, and him standing there, refusing to let me enter a lot that had 35 or so available spaces.  A few more cars and taxis were waiting to enter the lot, but no one could go anywhere with me in the way.

I realized that la guardia wasn't going to give in and I wasn't going to the bank on my moto. I cut a quick U-turn and weaved through two of the taxis who were waiting to enter.  Within 3 or 4 seconds I was in 5th gear, gunning it toward the boulevard and home.  Seething.  Unable to wrap my mind around the absurdity of the situation.

Back at Enlaces, I parked my moto, came into the house to announce to the world, via Facebook, how angry I was, then headed over toward the cafeteria.  A group of teachers and a few students were sitting at a table, so I told the teachers that on days like today, I just don't understand their country.  I was going on and on, in Spanish, throwing in a few slang or idiomatic phrases (not cussing, just slang and modismos), while they sat there laughing.  They all agreed that some things here just don't make sense.  Mr. Jimmy, who also rides a motorcycle said that he can almost never park inside the gate at the mall.  We all got a good laugh out of it and I got to practice my Spanish for a while.

By the time I went up to the office to check on some things, like what time they'd be going to the bank this afternoon so that I could ride IN A CAR with them, my Facebook post had already made the rounds and Daya laughed as I walked in.  We're all still laughing about it.

¡Lo que ellos hacen no tienen sentido!

¡Qué bárbaro!

Graduation! Without a Hitch...

After an 11th hour scramble, which I guess was only appropriate since it was 11-11-11, our diplomas were signed and ready to go.  The rooms were decorated. Caps and gowns distributed.  Everything was ready.  All we had to do was show up at our appointed times.

I got there early so that I could take pictures of the graduates and their families as they arrived.  I was asked to be the official photographer for the evening.  So, like last year, I started with lots of photos outside. As it turns out, I have about 400 photos from the evening.  I'll be putting them all on a DVD to be available for whoever wants them.

Graduation itself went off without a hitch.  Seriously.  Not a single hitch.  The evening was wonderful!

Here's a picture of our Prepa kids singing "I am a Promise" ~~

I am a promise, with a capital 'P'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Honestly, we could not have asked for a better evening.  God came through in every way possible!

The Graduation That Almost Wasn’t…

Leave it to the Honduran government to do something that makes no sense whatsoever.  None.  Nada. Zip. Zilch.  We’ve had our graduation date planned for months.  We’ve (and when I say “we”, I mean Sandi, Erica and other teachers) been in and out of the district education offices almost daily for weeks now, checking dates to have diplomas signed, bringing records and documentation, re-bringing records and documentation when the district decides they want something done differently this year, etc., etc.  So imagine our surprise when, just yesterday, one day before our date to have the 6^th grade diplomas signed, and two days before graduation itself, the district informs us that we can’t have 6^th grade graduation tomorrow because the Honduran public schools are still in session and the earliest we can have graduation this year is November 14. And they said we can’t have a ceremony where we give out fake diplomas and just give the real, signed diplomas to our kids at a later date.

Why?  Well, because the public school teachers have been on strike so much this year that they’re still making up for lost days.  “But we’re a private school”, we countered.  “It doesn’t matter”, they retorted.  “Rules are rules”, they said.  “Since when?”, we thought, but wisely didn’t say.

So that was all yesterday.  And only affects 6^th grade since our Prepa (kindergarten) diplomas are signed.

Today was spent scrambling.  We informed the 6^th grade parents, many of whom were furious. Obviously.  They weren’t upset with us; they were upset with an educational district office that is playing sloppy and loose with the rules.  Then one of the parents mentioned three other private bilingual schools whose upper grade diplomas were signed.  That was all it took to get some of our teachers on the warpath.

But just in case, we spent time this afternoon fashioning a special certificate for our 6^th graders.  This is the first class to graduate that has spent kinder (4-year-old kindergarten) through 6^th grade here.  They are the first generation of Enlaces kids.  We figured that even if we can’t give our kids a diploma tomorrow night, we’re giving them a certificate to recognize their accomplishments, and we’ll deal with the diplomas later.  The certificates are printed and framed, ready to be handed out.

Those teachers on the warpath?  Well, it turns out that now our diplomas WILL be signed.  At 11:00am tomorrow morning.  Yet, since this is Honduras and we’re dealing with governmental officials, I’ll believe it when I see it.

Regardless of the outcome with the diplomas, tomorrow night’s graduation celebration promises to be a huge blowout, filled with all the pomp, circumstance and new (or borrowed) clothing you can imagine.  There are times during graduation when it’s hard to believe that this is a Third World country.  Everyone is dressed in the most glamorous clothes.  But, many people borrow clothing from friends or family members.  Me?  I’ll be sporting a new LBD (little black dress) I picked up last year in the States.  Don’t worry, I only paid $15 for it.  Yes, of course there will be pictures.

One of Those Days...

Today feels like “one of those days”…  I was in the office earlier today and had a few free minutes, so I called my mom for a bit.  Her breathing sounded labored and wheezy.  I know she’s had a rough go of it lately.  She has to use her oxygen 24/7 these days.  Plus, the doctor is giving her a few more weeks off of her chemotherapy to help her regain some strength.  Mom thinks it’s helping a little.  This round of chemo seems to be zapping her strength more than the last full round two years ago.  But she’s glad that at least this time she hasn’t lost her hair completely.  It’s thinned out substantially, but she still has hair.

Then Mom told me more that I really didn’t want to hear.  Or, wish I didn’t have to hear.  Or, wish it hadn’t happened.  Earlier this week, Mom was on her way with a friend to visit another friend who was in jail.  He was in jail for unpaid traffic tickets.  Lots of them.  (Sidebar: Sometimes I just don’t understand a judicial system which will put a disabled man in jail for unpaid traffic tickets but let more violent offenders off with a slap on the wrist. I’m not defending the unpaid tickets, but do you see my point?)  Anyway, Mom and her friend went to visit him in the county jail.  

First, though, they stopped at the bank.  Mom withdrew $425 to use for Christmas gifts.  Each year, my parents’ church visits a nursing home and brings them gifts and treats and has an evening of caroling with them.  Mom told me that she usually brings 25-30 gifts, just to make sure that there’s something for everyone.

Well, by the time Mom was back in the car after the jail visit, she realized that her envelope of cash from the bank was gone.  Missing.  Disappeared.  Vanished.   She’s reasonably certain that it wasn’t taken, that it somehow fell out of her purse, but, to me, that doesn’t matter.  

Money that she can’t afford to lose is gone.  I’m sad, frustrated and angry. I’ve cried about it several times today.  When I’m not crying, the tears are right there, welling up and waiting for me to choke them back.  If I were still working a corporate job, I’d send her the money without thinking twice about it.  But I’m not, so that’s not an option.

Yes, I realize that it’s just money and not something more important.  If it had been ME losing the money, that’s really how I’d feel.  Really.  But it’s not me.  It’s my mother.  I know how many months it takes her to stash away that much money from her Social Security payments.  And I know that it was going to be used to bless others.  THAT’S why I cry.

So, I’ve done the only thing I can do: Prayed.  I’ve prayed that whoever it is that found that money needs it so desperately. I’ve prayed that whoever found that money would be blessed beyond belief, that it will meet needs that were only expressed to God Himself.  And I’ve prayed that whoever found Mom’s money will use it to bless someone else.

Then, this evening I found out that the Honduran government is wreaking havoc on our plans for school graduation on Friday, telling us we can’t have it.  Seriously?  More on that tomorrow.

I'm sorry that my post is a bit of a Debbie Downer today.  You didn't think that all my days were bright and sunny, did you? Thanks for listening, though.

Yes, it’s been one of those days…