How to Hunt for Easter Eggs in Honduras

Monday, August 23, 2010

Preparing for our charlas

This week we have three charlas to present to various people of all ages, backgrounds and sizes. In order to prepare for these I spent most of the weekend standing in front of my mirror talking to myself in Spanish pretending to give a presentation. During each of our charlas we are “graded” on our performance by our facilitators and they “take off points” if we use notes. Now, let me tell you…I have been giving presentations for a long time in English and anytime I give a four hour presentation in English I am bound to use some notes. So, the fact that I am giving a presentation in Spanish, my new second language, for four hours, is slightly intimidating and I might have a notepad here or there. So, anyway, after my group and I spent half of this morning working out the kinks for a couple charlas this week, I feel slightly better b/c I will be presenting a scavenger hunt to teenagers and talking with them about their “assets” and how to better use them in an action plan as well as teaching local community members how to pack an emergency bag and have it ready when disaster strikes. (Which is like right now in Honduras, with tons of flooding and dengue). I spent all day yesterday making a fun scavenger hunt for the kids tomorrow, so I hope they like it. (Something tells me they won’t, b/c they are teenagers and God Bless my other teacher friends who spend all their time in high schools.)

Making biodegradable sacks to plant trees

Later on in the morning I had my third technical placement interview with my Muni D bosses. This helps them to decide where to place me in a permanent site when I leave Cantarannas next week! I have a really good relationship with them and in my previous interviews I have given them a lot of feedback about the type of site I would like to be placed in, so today they told me that I will be going to a medium size site (somewhere within four hours of Tegucigalpa because I need to be near a large medical facility), I will be working with CBO’s (community based organizations), and I will be the first Municipal Development volunteer ever in this site. They also told me that there have been other volunteers there before, but never a Muni D volunteer, so they have high expectations for me and expect the bar to be set even higher when I leave. I hope I don’t let them down! I have no idea exactly what kinds of projects I will be working on, but I will find out exactly what those will be next week, along with my exact location…on September 1 site announcements are made. Crossing my fingers!

In the afternoon, we headed out to a tree nursery just outside of town where we received a charla on microcuensias and reforestation, etc before we planted about 40 new trees right outside of a school. We learned how to make biodegradable bags out of banana tree leafs, mix the dirt, prepare the seeds (who knew seeds had to be prepared?), hoed and sowed the ground, then partitioned off squares for the new trees to be planted. It was an extremely interested charla and I think it will be great to use as a cross cultural exchange when Arbor Day rolls around. Plus, as a Muni D volunteer, it’s always awesome to get out of the “office” and dirty our hands up a bit. It was also pouring down rain the whole afternoon, so we experienced some of what the PAM and water/san volunteers do on a daily basis. We were able to work with kids from the school during the afternoon and I am proud to have been part of that awesome experience; I hope those trees actually grow (LOL) and they have something to enjoy in 10 or so years!

Our Muni D group after tree planting

Look at my AWESOME care package-sent with tons of love!

p.s. Today was mail day and it made my entire week!  I LOVE all the support I get from back home in the States and getting a letter and package today from my friends D'Ann and Will and Karen made everything so much sweeter!  Hooray!!! (also, I have received the most mail and packages, ppl are jealous, so please don't let them down...keep 'em coming!) :-)
Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Talking to kids about their assets

Charla day! It’s always nerve racking before a presentation, but when you are being evaluated (in Spanish), it is even more so. So, after I ate my bowl of cornflakes (sorry, no Wheaties here), I hopped into the PC car and our Muni D group took off to a private school for presentations (the public teacher strike has no end in site). Once we got to the school loud band music was playing and cheerleaders were dancing in the school yard. It wasn’t even 8:00 AM yet, but we were told that they were practicing music until 8:50 AM; so we had an extra hour to prep for our charla. After setting up, we took our supplies outside and began to prepare for the next charla we have tomorrow on disaster preparedness, since I don’t want to be up all night working on it. As we sat there coloring in pictures of batteries and canned foods (things you might need during a hurricane), the band began to play knock off’s of current hits, like Shakira’s World Cup song and it took me back to Junior High when I marched on the football field holding my clarinet and played “One Moment in Time” by Whitney Houston. Now those were the days. Finally, around 9:00 AM our students staggered themselves on in the classroom, cell phones in tow, tucking their shirts in, holding hands with their boy/girl friends and all I could think was “I am glad I am not the parent/sister/teacher/anyway related to the life of a teenager.” Only two minutes in to our presentation, I confiscated some drum sticks. By the time the charla was over I had confiscated another parir of drumsticks, a baton, one USB, and two cell phones. I have no mercy, especially when I busted my ass all weekend to prepare for you and you don’t listen to me. Cheque?
The scavenger hunt was right at the beginning and after I divided them up into two teams, they took off around campus to search for the 12 objects I had laid out. They were pretty quick; although I like to think I gave them pretty easy objects (One, b/c I didn’t know the layout of their campus, and two, b/c my Spanish is still pretty basic). So, after we had gone over their answers and after other members of my group had talked the “kids” decided the biggest issue on their campus was the food in the cafeteria. They needed a bigger range of food, more fast food and more hot food. They also wanted access to Coca-Cola’s and more junk food. This was surprising to me, since you can get crappy food almost anywhere in Honduras, so I have a feeling someone very influential has thrown money at their school to make sure they can only get juice and Baked Lay’s. (Remember, they also have band instruments, this is a PRIVATE SCHOOL). So, by now we are like an hour or so in and I have moved to the back of the classroom, I have also moved several boys around so they can’t sit next to each other and F&%K off b/c that’s what they are doing and I have no time for disrespectful little teenagers. Do it on your own time. When it is my time to discuss their ventajas, or assets, I divide them up into groups again and two boys look like they hate me, but what do I care, I’m never coming back to their school….I actually take a minute to ask them if they are bored and they say yes, so I tell them we are bored, too, but teaching them is a requirement of our PC training, so can they help us out by not being bored today? They pretend to snap out of it and during my part they come to the front and write down their assets, then a few more of them talk until I am done and thankful another charla is checked off of the list. By the time I leave I no for sure I never want children, EVER. Between having a four year old around constantly and seeing what they grow up to be like, I don’t think the word “parent” fits with Jenifer Bubenik. Maybe just disciplinarian. Cheque?

On the way back to Field Base Training, we receive the best news ever; our other charlas for the week have been canceled! This will give us time to prepare for our charlas next week (yes, we have two more then as well). I am just producing charlas by the truckload down here. If there is a game that can be tossed in there, count me in. People love visuals and I am the master magician of them. Although people in Honduras don’t always understand the rules, but I have decided to just go with it and throw in some candy at the end. As long as they learn the objective that is needed, that is all that really matters!

In the afternoon, we meet up to discuss Thursday, which is Cultural Day here at FBT. Each class will present something common to America and share it with our host families. In exchange, our host families will be making all kinds of yummy (and some not so yummy) Honduran food for us to eat. After racking our brains for 10 minutes, the boys and I (I am in a class with two guys) came up with a long list of things Americans do. Unfortunately, most of these surrounded drinking. Seriously, why is it anytime a group of Americans get together it mostly involves 12 solo cups, some beer, and a little white ball? Or, a deck of cards and a 12-pack? This is great for Fourth of July, but not good when I need to teach a family in Honduras what we are about. So, our list consisted of things like whiffle ball, bob for apples, pin the tail on the donkey, and our final decision hunt for Easter eggs. We decided we could boil eggs (b/c they are basically free in this country), then decorate them with markers and hide them in the park. Easter is a huge holiday here anyway, so we would just throw this new tradition in. Let’s hope it goes well. Let’s also hope that us boiling 100 eggs is not a total freakin’ disaster and that all the dogs in the park don’t pee on them before the families can finish the game.

Here comes Peter Cottontail...

Tonight my boss dropped by the house and brought me all the plastic eggs they could find in Teguz. There were 10 of them in the bag. Now, I am not a rocket scientist, but I think there will be more than 10 kids at the Easter egg hunt/Cultural Day tomorrow. So, I filled up all the eggs I could with candy, then hit up my group with other ideas. We decided we will fill bags with candy and let the kids at least grasp the idea of what they are supposed to do. This will be the most ghetto Easter egg hunt I have ever participated in, but at least the kids will get candy out of it.



Thursday, August 26, 2010

Enchiladas Caratchas

Mucha comida

Bienvenidos Dia a la Cultura! USA meets Honduras. Cultural day goes something like this: Each host family prepares food unique to Honduras and us Peace Corps trainees present something cool from American culture. Well, my mom decided to prepare enchiladas catrachas, which has about 30 ingredients in it and about 30 more steps in the preparation department; so imagine my dismay when I found out that we had to stand up in front of everyone and describe the preparation process. Of course, my mom didn’t tell me any of the preparation process until lunchtime today, so I had about an hour to learn a bunch of new words. During this time I also had to help actually prepare the enchiladas, which consisted of me making a cabbage salad that goes on top. Now, I am not a fan of cabbage. Being from the South, this might surprise a few people. But, I don’t RUSH to the BBQ place and order coleslaw, I don’t hurry home on Sunday’s and throw back Bojangle’s slaw and biscuits; there is something about the vinegar and cabbage mixed together that makes me vomit. So, when a little lady in Honduras asks me to spend an hour chopping up cabbage and mixing it with vinegar, it doesn’t exactly make me jump for joy. Add that in with finely dicing cebollos (onions) and you have yourself one cranky Jen. Sorry, but I would much rather help you dice up the meat and potatoes which were also one of the other 30 ingredients. After finally getting everything in order it came to my host mom’s conclusion that I wasn’t chopping the cabbage like she wanted…maybe that is because I have never chopped cabbage….like EVER. It is the one vegetable I don’t like. Now, I just feel like I am cooking in my mom’s kitchen in the USA and not doing anything correctly…apparently being a mom is cross-cultural (I think I will take a break and walk away here). So, my host sobrina and I let my mom finish and I continued with the Easter eggs.

Honduran dancers

Cultural day was supposed to start at 3:00 PM, which means that at 3:30 PM we were still missing three families. Nothing ever starts on time in this country, but we went ahead and cranked up the microphones anyway and were joined by local dancers who taught us Honduran customs. Then, each aspirante (trainee) stood up and explained the dish they brought and who their host family was. We were supposed to do this four aspirantes at a time, but somehow several of us got left out, including me (b/c I was busy hiding eggs), which means that my mom’s dish wasn’t recognized and she was severely PO’ed at me. Strike one for cultural day. As my group was busy hiding eggs out in the park our main objective was to make sure the drunk bolos didn’t swipe them before the kids had a chance to run around and search. This meant that one of us had to stay outside in the park, while the other two went back and presented our introduction. We were the first group to welcome people to American day and invite them to participate in an American culture, which is totally cool, I like grabbing people’s attention in the beginning when they are still fresh and not too bored. So, anyway after I introduced “Busquede de los Huevos!” and asked them if they’d ever heard of it before, of course I got a rounding applause of “NNOOOOOOOO.” And before we could even finish giving a time limit the kids were running out the door and jumping over the fence in the park. So, while we might not be able to speak Spanish that well according to the Spanish teachers, the local people understand us…and that is what is important. After about 3 minutes the kids had found all the bags and eggs we had hidden in the park (I would say about 60) and I wished we had more, but this is a government budget after all. So, we concluded that they really liked it, our Spanish went over well and the day was saved! Other groups presented swing dancing, ultimate Frisbee, a surprise birthday party and American words vs. Honduran words.

All the Easter egg kids and my Spanish class at cultural day

Kids racing for Easter eggs during cultural day

Finally, when it was time to eat a lot of people showed up that I hadn’t seen the rest of the day. Free food brings out a lot more people. There was so much deliciousness to be had! Baleadas, enchiladas, fried donuts, rosquillas in honey, anything and everything fried, sweet candy, coconut and rice drinks, and more. I ate a lot because I have already gained like 10+ pounds from the tortillas in this town and can’t lose them until I leave, so I figured what does cultural day matter? After all was said and done, the day was declared a success by our boss and I thought so, too.

The One With the Bacteria Infection

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Park in Moresele

The one thing about this country that drives me nuts is that people never plan. And, if they do plan, they don’t show up for their plans or they arrive two hours late. This is how I ended up in a town called Moresele today instead of lounging at the pool, catching some rays like I had hoped. Last night as I was washing my clothes in the pila, my mom came up to me and said “What are you doing tomorrow?” Naturally, I said nothing, b/c lounging at the pool really is nothing and I thought she might have a grand plan of something to do and since one of the Peace Corps values is to engage in cross-cultural interaction I thought I would hang out with my family. This is where I left the door WIDE OPEN for her to invite me along to a Saturday that would involve church all day long.

My host brother deciding not to go farther

I woke up this morning and performed yoga, in order to get my mind ready for this day of holiness ahead of me. Afterwards, I was joined for a pancake breakfast by the volunteer who lived in my house last year. Imagine my surprise when my host mom talked to her for what felt like hours while I sat by; it has taken me five weeks for her to barely say more than “Como esta” so at this point I don’t know where I went wrong, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the amount of time I put in with the four year old. After breakfast I ask my mom (again) what time we will be leaving for Moresele and she says 10:00 AM. Last night she said 9:00 AM. So, I go ahead and get ready, then sit on the couch reading a book until we leave at 11:00 AM. Five of us pile in the car, me, my older host brother (driving), one of my host sobrinas, my little nino, and my mom. The drive takes an hour and once we get there we realize that the main road of Moresele is dug up and being worked on, which today means there is a sign telling us we can’t go down it. After my host brother takes a left, he realizes his little four dour Honda isn’t going to make it down the mud path they call a road and decides to turn around. I tell him he needs a four by four, since I learned to say that word yesterday in Spanish class and he mentions to his mom that he needs a Four Runner. She laughs. As we creep down the next dirt path, we hit several pot holes and before moving on my host brother says a Hail Mary and waves his hands across his forehead and chest in the symbol of a cross. Then we inch forward and finally end up at the park. This is where I find out that hundreds of people have converged on this one town for communion, or “Cuerpo de Christ” but as soon as we get there my host mom takes off to the church and I am left in the park with my host sobrina and my little brother. For four hours. My older brother takes off with his iPod and I don’t see him again until we meet up for a Pepsi right before lunch. And that was my cross-cultural interaction for the day. So, I didn’t go to church, I didn’t get to meet any other family members and I didn’t get to speak any Spanish. I sat in the park and waited while hundreds of people from all over Honduras and El Salvador partook in communion, until I tell my host sobrina that we need to go for an adventure. We take off up hundreds of stairs to a view that goes nowhere. What this town really needs is a PC volunteer (I found out the next day they are getting a Muni D volunteer from our group). After the communion is over we have a late picnic lunch in the park where the world’s biggest, ugliest dog decides to invite himself into our area and attempt to eat our chicken and rice. I am 100% certain he has rabies by the look of skin and bones he is carrying around, but more worried about the bolo/homeless guy with no shoes nearby who keeps smiling at me with no teeth. This picnic is turning out to be something like a day in the San Diego Balboa Park and after the ants show up my host brother has decided he’s had enough, so we drop my mom off at her cousin’s house and then take off for the return trip home.

View of Morosele

Does this dog look like it has rabies to you?

My host mom serving up a picnic lunch

Waiting in line for "Cuerpo de Christ"

Sunday, August 15, 2010

I caught the 9:00 AM bus out of town this morning and headed back to Los Planes to see my host parents. The trip down was pleasant and when I knocked on her door around 10:00 AM, Rosa greeted me with a big hug and welcomed me right in as though I never left. The two of us spent several hours catching up and she told me all about a recent trip she took to El Salvador, while I told her all about the awesome projects I have been working on with the Peace Corps and the stoves I just built last week in Zamorano. Then she asks me if I can build one for her when I come back in a few weeks and I say yes, b/c I have faith I can, then hope it works b/c if it doesn’t she will find me and never forgive me. When my host dad arrives from being out, he tells me my Spanish has improved tremendously, which I don’t know is a real compliment or maybe my Spanish was just that bad a few weeks back! I share photos with them of everything I have been doing for five weeks, including teaching kids charlas, hiking La Tigra, my new host family, my birthday, etc, and they catch me up on everything they have been busy doing as well. Then, Rosa and I make manzana liquados and the three of us enjoy a lunch of grilled chicken and mashed potatoes before I say good-bye and “see you in three weeks.” I miss them so much, they are such awesome people and I was so lucky to have them in my life. I am so glad the Peace Corps has them as part of their host family program. I only hope I get to visit them more over the next two years.



Anyway, after my sentimental bit, I headed back up into Valle de Angeles where I wondered the streets like a tourist. I haven’t had that much free time, but decided to take a break today and just be. It was the perfect time, I think. With just three weeks to go, it gave me something to look forward to after working so hard for five weeks in FBT. After buying some postcards and peanut butter (I have needs!), I met up with another volunteer living in town and we chatted before I headed out of town in the early afternoon. When I finally made it back into Cantarranas, the sky had turned angry and rain pelted down on the cobblestone streets. As of late there has been massive amounts of rain. I was told that we have received 43 meters of extra rain to this point of the year as of now, and the rainy season goes until December. But, I don’t know if that is accurate.

Note: As of Friday, it has stormed severely every single day. There have been massive mudslides in Tegucigalpa and Cantarranas. Flooding is in a lot of places and there are many deaths.

So, back to Sunday night. My group of four meets up to plan our Monday morning charla presentation of health and nutrition. After two hours we have a pretty good idea of what we want to teach 9-14 year olds about how to be healthy. The main problem is we might have these age children and we might not. There is a major teacher strike going on in Honduras right now, too, so most of the schools are not in session. All of the public teachers here work under a union and the union is striking right now, so we are having to find private schools, or really rural schools that are willing to go out on a limb and allow us to come in and present to their kids. We are hoping for the best tomorrow.



Monday, August 16, 2010

Making it big time in the community!

Out of focus pic taken by someone else at our charla

Today can be summed up in one word “S&^$*Y.” If you don’t like the pun and gross bacterial infections upset you, I suggest you move on to another blog. The day started off normal enough with me sitting down at the breakfast table for day one of my “Tortilla Strike.” After my host mom eyeing me wearily, which I don’t really understand since she doesn’t make the tortillas herself (she buys them from a lady two blocks down), I left the house and met up with the other Muni D volunteers to head off and present our health and nutrition charla. When we arrived at the school 10 minutes away, our group popped into the first room available and met 12 or so school children, ages 8-12. We immediately started our charla with an ice breaker of everyone in a circle, share your name and show us what your favorite exercise is. I performed jumping jacks, not because it’s my favorite exercise, but b/c I know that word in Spanish. Moving on. Next up, was my portion of the discussion where I passed out photos of good and bad foods we had plied through the El Heraldo looking for in order to have the kids tape up on the board under “Saldable” and “No es Saludable.” It had taken us hours to find these healthy foods, since the El Heraldo is hell bent on leading kids to buying Coca-Cola’s and Cheetos with the few Lempiras they have, but it only took the kids five seconds to decide hamburgers and pizza were healthy for them. Soooo….I had to come on in with my improving Spanish skills and ask them why they thought the hamburgers and pizza were good for them. Because, they said! They have lettuce and pineapple on them. Of course! Just like Bill Cosby said about the chocolate cake, but no, today I won’t let this pass. So, after I finish my part of the presentation, we continue on with some role playing about how Jesse made lots of bad decisions (drinking river water, not applying mosquito repellent, you get the idea) and finally our charla is done. My facilitator tells me I did “Excellente” which is music to my ears since my Spanish has been improving over the last few weeks and I leave the school with a high boost of self esteem.

After lunch I hop in the Peace Corps vehicle for a ride to Teguz, where I have a follow-up doctors appointment at the dermatologist. On the way there my stomach begins to hurt and I figure the time has come for me to finally get a case of diarrhea. I have been so lucky this far, eight weeks in and only a little sinus infection; so as the car keeps winding through the hills, my stomach jiggles more and I lay down in the back. I start to feel slightly hot, and figure I’ll talk with the PCMO once my appointment is over at the dermatologist. At the dermatologist, things go smoothly (way better than last time, the receptionist is completely professional and the doctor has me in and out in no time with my prescriptions refilled). Thank goodness, b/c by now I am really not feeling so hot (except fever wise). So, when I get to the PC office, I go in to see the PCMO for my follow-up. When I sit down her first question is “Are you feeling okay?” I tell her, actually no. I tell her “I think my time has finally come to get diarrhea in this country. It has been difficult in Cantarranas with the no fruits/veggies, being regular and all” (she nods her head) “but today, something changed.” Then, she hands me this picture of what your diarrhea is supposed to look like (oh’, yeah, keeping it real) and asks me to point to the number I think my poop looks like. I think I’m a number 4 out of 6 right now, so she gives me some Pepto Bismol and tells me if it gets worse to give her a call. Before I even make it out of the building I am onto number 5, and about to vomit, so she hands me a bag for the car ride home and another new medicine. God bless the PCMO b/c she has personal plans that night, too, but tells me to call her if I need anything.

Next, I hop in the PC vehicle with my driver, another volunteer, and another staff member. Halfway back to FBT I start hurling in my vomit bag when the driver suddenly pulls over and I finish behind a light post and beside a barbed wire fence. Wow, that was so attractive. I can feel my fever rising, but I don’t want any of the AC on me and all I want to do is curl up and cry in my bed. Everything on me hurts and I feel like a truck ran me over, twice. After we finally make it back into town, I use all my energy to grab my backpack and meds and walk the 20 steps down the dirt road into my house. I immediately went to bed and woke up an hour later burning up and couldn’t move. In my mind I knew I had dengue. My mind raced for what all the signs were when you were sick; I remember not being able to move and fever as one of them. Plus, I really had to go to the bathroom and knew I couldn’t do it in this bed. So, after a few minutes, I finally lifted myself up (my back hurt the most, it felt like someone took a baseball bat to it) and tiptoed outside where I asked my host mom if she had a thermometer. She said no and felt my head and her response was “No, you don’t have a fever.” Look, crazy lady, I have a fever. I know my body really well and one, it never gets sick, and two, it is burning up. After completely filling up the toilet and not looking back, I grabbed my phone to call the PCMO where it blinked “EMERGENCY CALLS ONLY.” When I leave here, I’m never living in a brick house ever again. I creep to the edge of my bed and lay down. I lay there for five minutes until I decide that I know I have a fever and I hold my arm up as high as I can to my window until I get one bar and call the PCMO. She is in the middle of a personal event and I fill soooooo bad for interrupting, but I ask her if she can send over a thermometer to my house from our on-call person in town (she is an hour away, but he is nearby). She says no problem. By the time he gets there my host brother has run out and gotten a thermometer somewhere, but it’s only in Celsius and I have no idea how to read it; however, the PC thermometer says 100 degrees and I knew it. At this point I am sitting in the doorway of my bedroom with three people trying to hold me up and the PCMO back on the phone telling me she needs a stool sample in the morning. Whatever you need, doctor, just make it stop. Pills start appearing before me, then I am back in bed with a cold washcloth on my face. I take all the meds, put in my earplugs, look at the clock…it reads 8:00 PM. It is going to be a long night.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

I woke up every hour last night with fever and diarrhea. At midnight I did the stool sample because I wasn’t sure I would have anything left this morning, but it was still coming. So did the vomit. Seriously, this is one way to get out of eating tortillas. My body is like a weight in bed. They came to pick up my stool sample at 7:30 AM, which I’m still not sure I even gave properly. That was something I didn’t think I’d have to worry about until I was at least 80. At 9:00 AM the PCMO called again and wanted to know what was wrong with my phone; I told her I live in a brick wall and she seemed to understand. So, now she is calling my house, which means that my entire host family knows my business…but since they all watched me almost die in my doorway last night I guess that is okay. I slept most of the day, until the early afternoon when the PCMO called and told me I had a massive bacteria infection taking over my white blood cells and blood in my stool. That will wake you up. No wonder I feel like crap. There is no telling where I got it at; but now I am on another antibiotic for three days. In the afternoon I got visits from my facilitators and other trainees; it’s good to know I am loved.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010
I am living off Gatorade and crackers. My family keeps trying to give me tortillas and coffee, so I had to have the PCMO talk to them and tell them I couldn’t handle that stuff yet. She had to explain “no grease.” My mom keeps trying to give me all this food and I keep vomiting! I’m just not ready yet! I will eat, don’t worry! I had the other trainees go get me some Sprite, Gatorade and crackers, so slowly my stomach is gaining strength. The diarrhea is now a 3 on the scale and I stayed home again today. I still needed to be near a bathroom, plus my fever finally broke this morning when I woke up. The PC came by again today with the thermometer, but it was an older glass one and there was no color inside to tell what my temp was. (If anyone from PC Washington is reading this, please can we start using those new digital thermometers like they have during blood drives, with the different tongue covers? They would be so much more efficient. Thanks!) Also, my family made some soup, which was good for my stomach, so I am slowly getting my strength back.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

I made it back to class today, but without my hair fixed and no makeup. I was there about 60%. The PCMO called and put me on antibiotics for another 3 days and told me no physical activity through the weekend. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna go run a marathon after this week. I finished the day by eating more soup, drinking more Gatorade and eating more crackers. There are these crackers here called Maria’s which taste like Graham crackers a little bit; I have taken a great liking to them.

I also joined up with a new group to present another charla tomorrow. We are supposed to teach elementary kids the fundamentals of business. Yes, this sounds like it is going to be a disaster. We have a charla outline from the business side of PC, but teaching 7 year olds how to save their money in order to buy a gift for their brother sounds like something they won’t want to listen to. My part of the program is going to be handing out two candies near the beginning and then more at the end…equal to the number of candies they still have, so if they don’t have any candy left they don’t get any new candy, if they only have one candy left they only get one, etc. We are also doing a story about a young girl who wants to set up a piñata business, but finds out that piñatas are too expensive to make, so moves on to jelly. I had an idea that we should play store with the kids to teach them about buying and selling things and running a business, but was outvoted, we will see how tomorrow goes.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Teaching kids about business

Duplicate photo b/c I can't get it off the blog

I feel 100% better! I woke up today, took my bucket bath, fixed my hair, put on my make up and was the old Jenifer! Thank goodness, because that bacterial infection took it all out of me. That sucked! I hope that doesn’t turn back up again in the next two years. This morning we set off for an elementary school nearby in Cantarranas and were met by young, young students ages 5-8. After entering their classroom, our group set up our charla and then I brought them into a circle on the floor where I told them a story about when I was young and liked to spend my money on cokes and candy (okay, Dr. Pepper and candy, but they don’t have that here!), until one time I really wanted a book. But, my mom told me if I wanted that book I would have to save my money. (I’m preeeetttty sure this is a true story) So, anyway, I told them that today we would be learning the same thing, about learning to save our money for things we want to buy, when really we want to buy cokes and candy. Afterwards, our group presented the story of Suyapa, the young girl who wants to set up the piñata business, and then we asked them to draw their favorite item in a store and ask them to price it. Afterwards, we asked them how many cokes they would need to give up over X # of months in order to afford their item in the store, and finally I did my candy activity. Out of about 12 kids, I would say only three ate all their candy. The rest were split, 50-50 on the number that had all two left and the number that had one. Overall, the presentation did not go well. The kids were bored and most of the material was over their heads. The business development model is for 5th and 6th graders, but with the teacher strike going on right now it’s hard for us to even find students to present to. So, I will strike this up to a lesson learned and move on to next week. We have three charlas then, too.

This is the Way we Milk the Cows and Build the Stoves

Saturday, August 7, 2010
After waking up this morning, I found out that there was a death in my family. My mom’s cousin’s grandfather had passed away at 5:00 AM this morning and at 7:30 AM she left for El Paraiso, another municipality here in Honduras. This meant that I was home alone with my host sobrinas, and when mom is away the kids will play. It doesn’t matter what country you are in, the rules are all the same. As soon as she took off, my host sobrinas were on their phones texting boyfriends I didn’t even know they had. A few hours later the older one and I took off to visit a tailor here in town so that I could have one of my skirts shortened, when she took a detour so I could meet her boyfriend, where I found out he is 26 and she is 18. When sitting on the couch I suddenly felt like my mother, having an evil eye and hoping she didn’t get into trouble just by sitting on the couch. After lunch we took off to the town pool, where her novio joined us again and I got to know him a little better. Turns out he has a job, is an upstanding citizen, and spent two hours teaching her to swim in the pool. I’m pretty sure this is how it works if you’re a parent, so I kept one eye on her while at the pool and one eye on my travel book in order to give her “space.” Soon, my friend Brad joined me and as the only two gringos there we stood out enough to be splashed all day by the locals wearing nothing but the underwear they had on. Apparently anything goes in Honduras, including backflips off concrete and I was just waiting to have to administer first aid with each hop, skip and jump around the water.



In the afternoon, several of us Muni D people met up and made “love notes” out of my scrapbooking stuff. Since all three different PC groups are in different towns right now for FBT, I thought it would be fun to send them “love notes” and let the other groups know we were thinking of them. The youth development group sent us some a few weeks back and I enjoyed getting the love. Afterwards, I headed back to my house to find my house full of family members I had never met. They were coming and going with all kinds of flowers, then packing into the car and heading off to El Paraiso. I got the point that they were making sure the sobrinas were okay, and afterwards the sobrinas told me to “hop in” the truck and we took off to the cemetery with three of their boy cousins. As soon as we arrived at the cemetery it started pouring down rain and had only one umbrella. The boys took off running with some flowers and my host sobrinas didn’t want to get out of the car; but, since it was getting hot and foggy inside, I just took off (and since they’re afraid of letting me go anywhere by myself, they had to come). Next thing I know, we were walking through the rainy cemetery to their grandpas grave as my host sobrina tells me it is the third anniversary of her grandpa’s death. So, within the last 12 hours I have had my host mom leave for a death and now I’m at the cemetery for the anniversary of a death. Up at the grave, we begin to break apart flowers and plant them in the ground…all in the rain of course. Meanwhile, my sobrina is singing Lady GaGa, which I’m pretty sure is exactly how her grandpa imagined it in heaven.



When we finally wheel back home, the house is full of people who say they are my sobrinas brothers/cousins/long lost relative from the country nearby; but, none of them talk to me. They all eat dinner real quick, then take off. Then, my sobrinas both have boyfriends show up and separate themselves in the kitchen and the living room, respectfully. I take this cue and retire to my room where I spend the evening watching “Dear John,” the first English speaking movie/news/TV I have seen since June. It’s not quality, it’s quantity here.



Sunday, August 8, 2010

It’s 7:45 AM and I’m walking in the rain. Andi invited me to join her and her host family to visit a farm today, but first I have to walk up to the La Colonia, a “suburb” of Cantarranas, and about a 20 minute walk. Once I arrive I am soaking wet, but her family doesn’t seem to mind too much and her mom offers me coffee and a cookie. I figure why not, I’ve already had two at my house. After coffee, I get to know here dad a little bit, and it’s nice to use some of the new Spanish I learned this week. He is such a nice guy and I learn that he worked in the states for 18 years and was near North Carolina; he has a lot of friends in the area, especially around Charlotte, Arlington and DC and we talk for a long time the East Coast. He is a very nice guy! After we are all ready we hop in the truck towards the finca, which is actually only about 1K down the road, but after you take the left there is a 20 minute drive in store through the fields of Honduras. Along the way we see tomato plants (crazy!), plantain fields, and beautiful rolling hills in the background. Andi’s host brother and sister and 12 and 7 and talking about different things while point to items out the window. After we arrive at the finca, we hop out of the car and I see a small pond with ducks and geese! In the middle of Honduras! Soon, her host dad leads us to the back of the house where a field of bacas (cows) are waiting for us and it doesn’t take long for him to shuttle us through the cow manure and sit us down near the udders to begin milking them. Apparently Bessy is ready and ripe to give her leche (milk) to us this morning. After Andi takes a try, I plop on down and give the udders a squeeze, where I find milk on my first try! Yes, I am a natural udder squeezer. LOL Something tells me growing up in Texas has something to do with this. Later on, I decide cows are fun, but I prefer to buy my milk in a bag at the pulperia and we walk along through the hills finding new and interesting animals and plants. There are horses and chickens and even a rabbit. As we head back to the car, we find that the right front tire is flat and Andi’s host dad has to call a moto taxi to bring us a spare. While we wait, he uses a piece of wood to prop the car up and jack the tire up to change it. An hour and a half later, the moto taxi comes rolling up, but not before we share bags of “orange juice” and cheetos. When the tire finally gets changed, all five of us head back into La Colonia, where Andi’s dad hops out of the truck and begins to use his machete on the coconut tree. Cocos immediately begin falling to the ground and no sooner have I sat down than I am handed a glass of coco water and a real coconut to eat. Life is awesome.

On the way to the finca

Back at home my mom returns only to tell me that there has been another death in the family. Her cousin has died of dengue and within an hour the house fills up with people from Teguz and around the country. I try to stay out of their way as they prepare more food than I have ever seen in my life; people come and go, but only once and then disappear. It is an awkward night and I don’t know what to say except “Lo siento,” and I disappear into my room.

Monday, August 9, 2010

My awesome birthday cake

I am 32 today; wow, the time is sneaking up on me. I seriously have no idea where the last year went and if time keeps passing that fast my PC duty will be over in no time. After waking up and treating myself to a nice b-day workout, I turned off my iPod to hear “Feliz Cumpleanos” blaring through the house speakers and threw on a shirt to open my door, where I found my entire family singing and dancing to “Feliz Cumpleanos.” I don’t even know half of these people, b/c a lot of them are here for the funeral that is taking place later today; so I find it very nice that they are taking part out of their mourning to dance around for me at 6:30 AM. Then, my host mom appears out of nowhere with the biggest birthday cake I have seen since I was 8 years old and tells me to invite over some friends for the afternoon so we can all celebrate. Wow, what an exciting way to begin the day. She also then tells me that I am no longer young, which is a fabulous blow to my self esteem, but I decide to brush that off and keep on trucking.

In Spanish class we are told that this afternoon we will be heading out to a finca in order to prepare a fruit salad and do some team building with all the other groups. Our part is to prepare the pineapple, so when I head home at lunch I ask my mom for the ingredients I need to bring; a large bowl and some sugar. This is really weird, since at lunch she is preparing to leave for the funeral while feeding the people still in the house, but she hands me what I need as she walks out towards the beginning of the funeral procession (you might remember from my other post that they walk through the streets here with the casket). So, anyway, after lunch I head to the park to meet the other PCT, where a torrential downpour hits the town and streets begin to flood. I wonder if rain on your birthday is good luck. We are supposed to meet at 1:00 PM, but rain in Honduras stops people in their tracks and we don’t get rolling until 1:30 PM when the drops have stopped. Think snow in the Southeast in January. People don’t move. Which I find crazy, since it rains almost every day here from June-November. When we finally get going, we head out to the finca and I am serenaded by the entire PCT and facilitators to “Feliz Cumpleanos” and then we play some game to see which team can put on the most articles of clothing. I never really got the point of it, but the Spanish teachers thought it was funny. Finally, we got around to making our fruit salad and I got to present how you can ferment pineapple, something I can actually use in the future, so finally a Spanish lesson that keeps on giving.

At night, after all the Spanish lessons and funerals had finally given way, my friends and I joined my host family to cut into the most awesome cake my family found for me. I don’t know where this cake came from, but all I know is that it appeared and made my day. It is the happiest I have been in about three weeks and if it takes death and birthdays for me and my host family to come together, well then, that is what it takes. My host family cranked up the “Feliz Cumpleanos” music and we danced for an hour like gringos do to Honduras music, but my family thought it was funny to watch. We ate cake and drank banana refresco (coke/pop/whatever you call it) and laughed and it was an awesome day…right up until 7:00 PM when the electricity went out all throughout town. Talk about a party killer. Thanks, Honduras. It was fun while it lasted.

Turning 32 with my PCT's in Honduras

Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday

August 10-12, 2010

Checking the temp on the stove

Chopping wood and bricks for the stove

Fun Tree on Campus

We are building stoves. On Tuesday we left bright and early at 6:30 AM to head to Zamarano, a small town about an hour away from FBT to receive training at the Centro de Evaluacion de Estufas Mejoradas. This University is really selective about whom they let in and it cost $15,000/year US $. They have students from all over the world, including the USA, Europe, Central America and more. On Tuesday morning we left Cantarranas bright and early at 6:30 AM, which meant that my mom had to wake up earlier and make me breakfast and lunch to go. Since the teachers are striking right now, she normally wouldn’t have had to get up this early b/c school isn’t in progress. After we left and headed to Zamorano, we drove down the nicest highway in Honduras until we arrived at the school, which has recycling bins and flushable toilets! You can even flush the toilet paper down the system b/c they have their own water system there. It was heaven for the day. On Tuesday we received information about renewably energy, electricity from water, photovoltaic energy (not a lot in Honduras, b/c they don’t have a lot of permission to connect into a grid), thermal energy (mostly hotels are using them here), and wind energy (they just received permission to build 125 mg in wind power and are going to start off of the North Coast later this year). We also learned about the improved stoves workshops that the university offers, which we will be taking part in tomorrow. Tomorrow we will learn how to build a stove from adobe bricks and mud, in order to practice for Thursday, when we will go to different families homes near here and build one in their kitchen. I think this is such a cool service that we are getting to learn about and as Muni D PCV is really important b/c we can help more students obtain scholarships for here, assist family’s in contacting the school about stoves and other projects the school works on. They have a cattle farm and plant farm, as well as wood construction area and over the four year program teach students all kinds of different techniques they will use out in the world.

View from University in Zamorano

First stove made of mud and bricks

On Wednesday morning we left a little later, 7:00 AM, but still early enough for the electricity to go out in Cantarranas, so my mom had to go to a neighbors house to make my lunch on their stove. Our stove is electric and that’s that. I also got ready in the dark, so I’m glad today was casual day (jeans and t-shirt) to build the stove. As soon as we arrived at Zamorano, we received a quick PowerPoint presentation on how to build the stoves and took a tour of different stoves throughout Latin America before breaking up into groups and compiling all our supplies. Somehow, our group ended up being only women, which I thought was awesome as we began to chop bricks with a machete. In order to get the bricks, we needed to go around to the side of the building and bring them in a wheelbarrow (which I think is older than me) and as Stephen and I loaded them up it tilted to one side and 9 adobe bricks went crashing to the ground. Way to make a first impression. As the mud was mixed and bricks were measured, our stove began to come together, piece by piece. It was fun getting to play in the mud all day and as Nancy and I put the “mouth” of the stove together (where the fire comes in) it was difficult to get all the pieces to hold together at once. Finally, the four of us laid the chimney on top and surrounded it with mud to solidify it into place, where we smoothed the mud down and made it visually appealing. Ta da~! We made a stove and out of five groups we finished second. Not that it was a race, but anything a man can do, a group of women can do faster (I’m just saying). Looking forward to tomorrow when we build one for a family and they will use it every single day forever!

Finished stove

Leveling the stove

Thursday morning and it’s early again; taking off for Zamorano I really need some more coffee. But, there is no time b/c we are stopping by the school today before heading into the little village of Santa Rosa where five families are waiting for us. We have to finish their stoves today b/c their old ones are being torn down as we drive towards them. They are totally dependent on us. We will have until 2:00 PM, but as we drive down the road leaving Zamorano it is bumpy and we come upon a river that wants to stop us, so we don’t arrive until well after 9:00 AM. Stepping out of the car I am greeted by the most amazing view I have seen in Honduras and it is not a bad place to work for the day; bright red and orange flowers shower the green hills and as we begin walking towards a small house an old man wearing rubber boots shouts “Take the other path, this is too muddy!” (But, in Spanish) Okay, so we head the other way and the university team comes with cement, 22 adobe bricks, a level, and a bunch of other tools we will be needing. Once we plop down our backpacks we meet the family, a nice older woman named Blanca and her three kids. We immediately start chopping up our bricks, which need to be four inches wide and take turns so we don’t all throw our arms out. Next, we begin mixing the cement and measure the current stove area, where we find the land about as level as Lindsay Lohan’s breathalyzer…leading us to a long day of adding more cement and rocks to the left side of the stove. Having four perfectionist in the group makes for good teamwork, but a long day of working with a level and cement. (Today we worked with cement instead of mud). Things ran smoothly all day long, including the chickens that kept running in and out of our work space. While mixing up the cement on the floor of the kitchen we accidently took out the floor (of mud) which we replaced later with extra cement. The entire day was long, but so amazing to feel that we actually accomplished something long and lasting! The family will use that stove every day for the rest of their lives and we played a part in it. But, as cool as it was, I don’t think I want to build another one anytime soon. My back is so sore and the dirt under my fingernails is going to take a while to leave (I am still a woman, after all).

Field where we worked all day

Heading home through Honduras

On the way to the houses where we built stoves

Tears and Fears

Monday, August 2, 2010-Saturday, August 07, 2010
There are five more weeks left of FBT! I am excited because that means there are only five more weeks left until I move to my permanent site, even though I don’t know where this is, but I will find out in about a month. On Thursday I had my second round placement interview to discuss more options about where I will go for the next two years. I really like my two municipal development directors and am always excited to sit down and talk with them about working on projects. Imagine their surprise when I broke down crying in the middle of the interview. The question was so simple, “How is your Spanish coming along?” With each day Spanish is a stressful topic and when I don’t feel like I’m getting it as fast as the PC would like it takes a toll on my brain and heart. There are so many words just flying around in different tenses that there was bound to be a day when I finally broke down; too bad it was in front of my boss. The truth about being in PC is, it doesn’t matter how many host families you have lived with before, how long you have lived away from home, each experience is new. You will always need to find new and inventive ways to “mesh” with people and get the support you need to help you succeed. It doesn’t matter if you have been a successful leader at everything in the past; even leaders hit a wall and need to breathe. I think only so much can be expected from one person. Especially when you are not only worried about learning a new language, but also worried about not getting dengue, not getting a stomach infection, getting accustomed to new foods, new time schedules, new cultures, don’t have the access to daily amenities you were once accustomed to, and sleeping in a bed that isn’t yours. After finally regaining my composure she told me that I wouldn’t be headed to a larger site and also not to the North Coast, so two strikes against my wishes, but everything happens for a reason and I know there is a community out there that really needs my skills. They are probably just waiting to teach me new Spanish words, too. My boss also told me I need to relax and be nicer to myself; unfortunately, there is no five star spa right down the street for me to whisk myself off to, so until then I continued to wake up early and perform yoga after my long weekend of hiking, and on the other days I have begun to enjoy the long runs through the hills of Honduras.

Random horse walking on the highway

The mornings here are the best time to appreciate the day, when the weather is still cool and temperate, there aren’t too many men outside to piropo me and the sun is barely over the mountains of La Tigra. My friend Brad has begun to join up with me, so as I peak over the hill in La Colonia (an area right outside of town), he is waiting for me near a sign that reads “Pulperia Brenda.” Together we run past the early risers carrying their machetes into the fields, the horses grazing, and a few moto taxis honking at us in case we need a ride or just trying to garner our attention (as Brad says “honks mean so many different things in this country”). During these runs it is easy to see the divide between rich and poor in Honduras, the necessity for urban planners (as horses and cows walk on paved roads), and why a Honduran EPA could be beneficial to the people. Large black exhaust fumes come from old school buses and run down Honda’s, then float into the green hills holding rich resources that the country should be taking advantage of…not slashing and burning as fast as possible. On Thursday afternoon we received a presentation from SERNA about climate change and the contribution of global warming by region. SERNA is the ministry of natural resources and environment here in Honduras. She told us that the contribution of global warming by region includes 30.3% from USA, 27.3% from Europe, and 3.8% from Central America (eia.doe.gov) if someone with better Internet than me can check it out. This week we also learned how to use GIS for municipalities and my group mapped out all the intersections between the library and the fire station. This information can then be put into the computer and made into maps for the country of Honduras, Google Earth, etc. Some other projects currently being used by PC Honduras are: GIS on property to make property maps and collect property taxes, map out schools recycling and help them collect money for their efforts, map out all the health centers, etc.

Pulperia Brenda, yes those are mules

Funeral procession through town

Dengue is still having a large effect on Honduras. Fumigation continues everywhere, the front page has headlines that read “42 die today from hemorrhagic dengue” and on Monday when I headed off to my new Spanish teacher’s house, I found out that she was in Teguz for dengue testing! Oh’, no! That makes four people in one week that I know who have/may have dengue. WTF Honduras, chill out! Stop taking people out with your wicked disease. (Let me just take a moment to thank the PC for the extra time and money they are attempting to throw at me with this one-on-one Spanish facilitator. I know it is very expensive and time consuming; I do appreciate it.) On Monday I am told that another PCV is in Teguz for blood work, again, I hope he doesn’t have dengue. I also hope I don’t get it, since apparently the mosquitoes are “buzzing” around. Another Spanish facilitator’s wife also had to go to the hospital for testing the same day. All of their tests came back clean and normal, which was great to hear, but other people have not been so fortunate. Just this week in town I have seen two funerals, one was from dengue. When there are funerals here, people walk in the street holding flowers, leading the casket while other men lift the casket over their heads. There is a line of people behind them until they get to their final destination. I don’t know where this is, b/c I have only seen them walking from the church, or in the middle of the street.

Other things happening this week;

My colegio friends serving up tortillas

1. My four year old brother walked in on me taking a bucket bath; there is now a lock on the bathroom door.

2. The colegio had “mental health” week, so each night there was an event in the park including a soccer game, food festival, karaoke, dance competition, and movies.

The winning dance team celebrating

3. The electricity has been going out a lot; this led me and my host sobrinas to play Spanish Scrabble by candlelight for two hours. Just imagine snow in February, cabin fever, with no beer.

4. I made a sign asking me how many cookies I eat a day…this has not deterred me from eating cookies in this town…or ice cream.

5. I attended an Educatodos class, which had four students in it learning English. One of the first two vocabulary words they had to learn was sailor and nurse.

6. I now eat at least 10 tortillas a day, but most of the time it’s more like 12.

7. While sitting in the biblioteca getting a safety and security charla, three cows walked by the front door, on the sidewalk, very nonchalantly.

8. Mail day came and I hit the jackpot. I love my friends D’Ann, Katie, Brianna, and Ron for taking the time to pop a package and card in the mail to me. It is like Christmas when I see those things waiting for me! I will send you snail mail back, but I’m waiting until I get to my permanent site where it’s easier to buy stamps. There is no post office in my town right now.