12 Days of Christmas

December 25, 2010

12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS (HONDURAS STYLE)

On the first day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

A visit to Tegucigalpa.

I landed in Teguz today for shoulder pain. The doctor told me I needed 10 days of therapy, which meant that it would last until December 27. Merry Christmas to me; the PCMO doctor asked me if I was going to be bored in Teguz for 10 days. We will see.

On the second day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

10 visits to the physical therapists.

Each morning I awake at 7 am and head to the hospital by 8 am. I have decided to start wearing makeup and dressing better b/c there are good looking men in the capital. Let’s not beat around the bush, it has been a while since a man with all his teeth gave me the time of day (by this I mean no hissing, kissing noises, calling me “Hey Gringa Baby!” and more. Also, passing through the PC office are lots of cute volunteers I haven’t met before. This is my chance to get to know them. Let’s be real honest, I left the USA a long time ago, it’s time to get moving on this objective.

On the third day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

Shopping trips from hell.



One of the nicest Ropa Americana stores ever

 I never liked shopping really in the USA. I’ve always been one of those people who knows exactly what I want, what size I wear, and what store it comes from…I go there and I get it. If I find it and really like it, I buy it in five different colors. So, shopping in Honduras frustrates the hell out of me. What we have here is something they call Ropa Americana, or what I call “The largest selection of Goodwill and Garage Sales combined.” Pick any corner in Tegucigalpa (or other large, major city in Honduras) or any major house in a small pueblo and you’ll find someone selling Ropa Americana. The majority of time these clothes are old clothes that you (and I) have at one point taken to the Goodwill in the States and given away. They have now been shipped down here for the bargain-basement price of anywhere from L20-L60 ($1-$3). Sometimes large chain companies like Victoria’s Secret, Express, Guess and others throw stuff in. The problem is that these Ropa Americana stores never have anything in order. It’s like a Ross or TJ Maxx, but on ADD and without the Ritalin. Corners piled high, full of crap I would never wear outside of this country, but I now find myself trying to bargain down from L60 to L40, when really, what does $1 mean in the long run? But, here L20 can buy me two meals in Orocuina. Or, maybe another shirt. So, after visiting 10+ Ropa Americana stores and surfing through boxes of old shirts, sweaters stretched out, tank tops hung up to “look nice” for the buyer, I leave with nothing b/c I am so frustrated and remember why I hated the bargain bins in the USA.

On the fourth day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

The Mall

It is now one week before Christmas and I am at the mall for like the 5th time this month. After not going to the mall for six months, why do I keep finding myself here? Because, it is warm and comforting and a little place of home (I think). I walk around, since I have decided to buy normal clothes from the shops here, which are shops like in the USA (Guess, Forever 21, United Colors of Benneton), but soon I remember that I don’t make the money I used to and that if I want to buy a $50 shirt now, I have to work seven days. I will keep wearing the clothes I brought with me from the USA until they fall apart; that way in two years I don’t have any baggage to take back with me.


On the fifth day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

FRIENDS to hang out with!

Yeah for reasons needed to visit the med office in Teguz! Yesterday and today I received visits from friends I don’t get to see that often, but today we got to hang out! To make things fun, I decided to SKYPE with my parents back in the STATES, and introduced them to my PCV friend Patrick, who was in town for a med visit. I would now like to write an open letter to my parents: Every man you see in the background of my computer is not my boyfriend. Although, Patrick did think it was funny when you gave him the third degree about what he is planning on doing with his life. Some PCV’s ARE actually just my friend. He also found it quite funny that you thought I was “more tan and had lost weight” in the five minutes we had been on the phone. Do not expect anymore SKYPE’s with Patrick, as I think you scared him to death.



Wheel of Death as I call it




Me, Very Scared

 Also in town were Melissa and Joe (and Joe’s dad). Joe’s dad was super awesome and took us out to a great restaurant for dinner, followed up by wine and dessert at another. There was a mariachi band involved somewhere who serenaded Melissa and I over delicious shrimp and beers, a rare treat for PCV’s. The wine restaurant was spectacular and for one night I remembered what my life used to be like, before I committed to Kennedy’s promise and “living under hardship.” Sorry, JFK, but everyone needs a night off. The next morning we headed up to the market where we enjoyed baleadas, gringa tacos and liquados. Later, Melissa’s friend Rafael came to meet us and we headed into the Centro (where I have now been everyday as well) before we made our way over to Chili’s to enjoy American food at its finest. Next to Chili’s was a brand new mall in Teguz (which I have now added up and Teguz has more malls than San Diego and Raleigh combined) and on top of it was a Ferris wheel. Some of you may not know this, but I have a fear of Ferris wheels. Ever since I was little and my Grandpa Calvin took me up one, I have not liked them. They scare the crap out of me. But. Somehow Rafael and Melissa tricked me into going up this thing, sponsored by Tigo which I’m pretty sure means it will fall apart in a year if it’s anything like their phones and cellular plans. The little carts spun around, too, just like Disney’s tea cups, so by the time I opened my eyes to freak out, I caught just enough glimpse of Teguz to last me for the next two years. To round the night off, we headed to a Manifesto concert to benefit HIV-AIDS, but when it still hadn’t started 2.5 hours after the proposed time, we found ourselves leaving….but not before my flip flop broke and I spent the rest of the night hobbling around on one shoe. From restaurant to restaurant and eventually and a salsa dance club, where I danced barefoot with someone who I think is part of the Honduras soccer team. Whoever said life is dull in the PC never hung out with me!




Gringa tacos at the mercado

On the sixth day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

A cold.

Thanks, Teguz. I am now stuffy and congested and whenever I lie down for physical therapy I have to breath through my mouth. The PCMO gave me a nose spray that stings like crazy and makes me sneeze. The cold medicine puts me to sleep immediately. I hope to be better soon.

On the seventh day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

A breakthrough in my projects (and life).

I have been working like crazy since I have been here, given the fact that I don’t have much else to do with my time and there’s no one from Orocuina knocking on my door to “visit” with me at all hours of the day. I was able to get ahold of a previous recycling project in Spanish and read through it, giving me some great ideas. I contacted some other PCV’s about other recycling projects (like designing a manual for all of Honduras), so hopefully those will come through. The stove project may have found a new donor in the form of Trees, Water, and People out of Fort Collins, CO (but they work with ADHSA here in Honduras). They helped a PCV build stoves in 2007 and were really receptive to my email a few days ago; I think Orocuina/Choluteca/the South of Honduras and TWP can do great things together. Plus, the founder of TWP is a RPCV from the 1980’s. To learn more about their stoves and what I am doing in Orocuina, click here http://www.treeswaterpeople.org/



View of Teguz from the Ferris wheel

 Also, this week I came to a breakthrough about what I want to do after PC. I have really enjoyed my time in Teguz, getting to know the city and the people. I would love to continue working in Honduras for the Peace Corps, UN, or another NGO. I definitely want to continue in Latin America working in International Aid; I like it here and once you learn the city and the language it is a great place. (Of course, I eventually want to open a wine bar, too, and run for office, but the list continues to grow!) Will I ever really know what I want to be when I grow up? I don’t think so.

On the eight day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

Museum visits.



Not the communications museum, but still Teguz

After a friend told me I should visit the communications museum, I decided to go check it out. I had already visited the Museum of National History, so why not keep going? Once at the communications museum, which is housed in the Hondutel building downtown, I was given a personal tour and learned all about the cool stuff that helped Honduras become the non-leader in communications that it is today. (I’m just being realistic, we all know how unreliable the Internet is here). But, he showed me the first electric lines, first computers used in Honduras, first cell towers, and even their old Morse Code tools. Learning Morse Code in English is hard, learning it in Spanish…impossible.




How to use Morse Code in Spanish (I'm still learning "real" code)

On the ninth day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

More friends!

It’s awesome to be able to see so many people right around Christmastime, so when Kendra and Caitlin both showed up today I was really excited. After we all finished our med appointments and I completed my work and errands (I found a new therapeutic pillow for my shoulder), we set off for a good meal in town. We decided to try a Chinese place, that actually looks like a car dealership, but was full of atmosphere and Christmas music. We didn’t really look at the menu, just pointed to a picture and told the server that was what we wanted (I don’t know the last time I had Chinese food, but I do know that when I go back to the States I am eating nothing but sushi and Thai pineapple raisin dishes for a month). So, anyway, after we get our dish it is yummylicious and we even have chopsticks! Wow! Teguz basically has any type of food you could want in America, all the chains are here Burger King, Pizza Hut, Wendy’s are on every corner, and there is a lot of Chinese food. But, in Orocuina none of these things exist. However, there’s a Wendy’s in Choluteca and forgive me founder Dave, but I never want to eat at Wendy’s again when I return to America.

After gobbling down Chinese, the three of us head back to the Cuban dance bar I found the other night where we get to watch a show of dancers for two hours! They never stopped and were so awesome, with their kicks and twirls and it was like I was watching “Dancing With the Stars” but without Bristol Palin and Pamela Anderson. They were UNBELIEVABLE! After selling Caitling off to one of the dancers, she proved to him that gringas can dance too and we left in a very happy mood.

On the tenth day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

A visit to my first host family, Rosa and Gustavo:



Me and Rosa

I love them, so much. They are my family here in Honduras and I wish I had the opportunity to live with them longer for four weeks. Since I didn’t, I take every opportunity to come visit them. It was nice to be able to come spend Christmas Eve-Eve with them! I brought Domino’s Pizza, Rosa’s favorite, a bunch of photos from our time together and two Peace Corps shirts for them to love and cherish always (ha ha), or at least wear for their next volunteer who is coming in February. After going to the Domino’s closest to the bus station, I ordered two gigante pizzas, then walked to the bus stop, about 1.5 K away, where I waited for a busito to pick me up. I don’t normally pay for the busito, since it costs L10 more, but I wanted the pizza to be hot. Then, once I landed at Los Planes, I walked all the way up the hill with the pizza before arriving at the house where the three of us macked-down on Domino’s and Pepsi of course. We enjoyed the day talking, drinking Rumpopo (a gift from them to me-K Wow!) and then spent two hours looking over photos from my site and other PC activities since I had been at their house. It is crazy that they have lived in this country for 70 years and never been to the Southern part of the country! When their grandkids were looking at the photos they asked if they were pics of the USA and I explained that they were pics of the Southern part of Honduras! It was a great day and I am so happy I got to see them and visit. Lots of hugs, kisses and smiles were spent today and I am so grateful that anytime I am feeling bad I can go visit them.

Domino's for Rosa and they gave me homemade Rumpopo (not Absolut), Yummy!





Obviously Rosa was not ready for this photo, but she loved the shirts!

 On the eleventh day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

CHRISTMAS EVE!



Me and Sandra




Chop Suey-YUM!

 Christmas Eve in Honduras is the big special celebration day here in Honduras. I was very lucky to be invited to my friend Sandra’s house in Tegucigalpa and celebrate with her and her family. After arriving, I began to help them prepare the Christmas Eve dinner. Most Hondurans celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve (the majority of Hondurans also prepare and eat something called Nacatamales; however, we didn’t eat this. I asked Sandra why and she said she and her sisters just never learned). I find this interesting, along with the saying that “everyone in Honduras makes tortillas.” I lived with three host families and none of them made their own tortillas and now I am celebrating Christmas without the traditional Nacatamales….maybe times are changing in Honduras? So, anyway, after we prepare our dinner of Chop Suey, we also make tutti-frutti (a fruit salad) and chicken sandwiches for later in the ngiht. After enjoying our chop suey with Coca-Cola, Sandra and I head down to the pulperia where we get beer for the night and then go back to the house. Then, the music is cranked up and we dance the night away. We dance for six hours! The whole family dances to reggae music until I can’t dance anymore and at 10:30 PM I am falling asleep (maybe it’s all the cold medicine, who knows). Sandra lends me some PJ’s, which are the smallest clothes I have ever seen in my life, and only make me feel super bad about my lack of finding a gym in the last six months. At midnight I am woken up to the sound of millions of fireworks going off all across town and Sandra’s sister running in the room to hug me and say “Felicidades!” I peek outside and see the sky lit up with tens-of-different of colors and rocket fireworks going off next door. It is like gunshots; it is crazy! They go off for 30 minutes straight and the family parties until 2:30 AM. Feliz Navidad indeed, which in fact means Happy Christmas.


Dancing Christmas Eve away-Yes, I know I am wearing brown boots with a black outfit




The supermercado on Christmas Eve

On the twelfth day of Christmas Honduras gave to me:

A day all to myself.

So, this is Christmas. After waking up I watched Winnie the Pooh “A Very Pooh New Year” or something like it, since it was the only Christmas show on TV before heading to the mall, where I found EVERY STORE open and ready for business! It was crazy and very different from what I am used to. After purchasing a mocha, I called my family, where I found my sister still asleep (some traditions live on), then I went to see “Gullivers Travels” since I am lucky enough to be in a city on Christmas and watch it in 3-D! K Wow! I think the biggest difference is switching up the days; here in Honduras everyone goes to the mall and supermarket on the 24th since they save their shopping for the last minute, they refer to Christmas as “viente cinco Diciembre” instead of just saying “Christmas,” and then Christmas is just another day of the year. Taxis run, restaurants are open, the mall functions as usual. When you ask people what is their favorite time of year they say “Semana Santa” which is Holy Week, at Easter. I can’t wait for that!

Rocking Around Fisioterapia

December 11, 2010


ROCK AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE



Cool decorations from my friend Linda in San Diego

 Christmas is in the air everywhere here and I decided to join on up. This past weekend I had some friends over to my new house to celebrate my favorite time of year, we played silly holiday games and ate yummy food while drinking rumpopo and crème dementhe. What are these drinks you ask? Rumpopo is what they call eggnog down here in Honduras. I was introduced to this word by a local friend and we found the drink at an American supermarket in Choluteca where they had three different versions, with three different levels of alcohol, but all the same price. (Which reinforces my belief that they still know little about business in this country, because in the States all the 18% alcohol would have been $5 more expensive). Therefore, we went with the highest level so everyone could eat, drink, and be merry. The crème dementhe was a fine surprise, so I threw that in the cart, too and decided we could make peppermint con leche bebidas and martinis. After crossing everything off our list, we headed back to Orocuina with a friend, and as we tossed two backpacks, two earth friendly bags, and five plastic bags in the back, the watermelon went flying down a hill, where it promptly landed on a rock and cracked. (Note: I still saved it and cut it up as soon as we got home, but I wish you could have seen me running after it at the time). Once back in Orocuina, we tromped down the long, dusty road to my house from the Centro de Salud and said “Adios” to everyone along the way, before tossing the bags down on my newly made kitchen table.




Homemade hummus and toasted bread

 Back home, I would normally be making appetizers full of cream cheese and chocolate, but here in Honduras, those items are often hard to find. So, with a little help from my friends, we began carving up watermelon and pineapple, and I made homemade hummus for the first time ever in my life. I was super excited that it came out great and I will be making it again for many times to come! I ordered L100 of pan dulce (sweet bread) from the local rosquilla lady, who was super excited and told everyone in the community that I ordered L100 worth from her. Ha ha Thanks to Amanda, who brought me Hershey’s cocoa from her trip to the States last month, I made Hershey brownies and Cowboy cookies from my friend, Linda, who sent me the homemade recipe (pre-made in Ziploc bags, all I had to do was add eggs and vanilla!). Soon, we were all set and everyone showed up ready to “Rock Around the Christmas Tree.” My mom had sent me some fun Christmas games to share with my local friends, and we passed around a Christmas stocking full of weird items (Off!, flashlights, condoms) that everyone had to write down and see who got the most right. We also played “Pin the Nose on Rudolph” and the White Elephant game, which included a Spanish version of Home Alone 1,2,3, a whole watermelon, a large plastic candy cane and Oreo cookies. The night ended with a new tradition (very popular here in Honduras) of popping firecrackers, loud into the night, while dancing. It was a great way to celebrate Navidad aqui in Honduras and I was really happy to share it with both my PC friends and new Honduras counterparts.


Benicia playing the stocking game



Amanda with no idea where she is going



Pinning the nose on Rudolph



Lucy happy to get a new White Elephant gift

 Feliz Navidad to everyone!


FISIOTERAPIA





What my left shoulder looks like, being worked on



Many people have told me that the best way for me to learn Spanish is to find a Honduras boyfriend, but I beg to differ. I think the best way is to visit the doctor/hospital a lot. Some of you may recall my first visit to the dermatologist way back in July, upon which I could barely tell him when my birthday was. Here we are, six months, and many doctors visits later, and I am now in Tegucigalpa where in the last two days I have talked my way through the orthopedic surgeon, physical therapist, and radiologist. I am proud to say that I did all of this in Spanish and the physical therapist said my Spanish was “very good.” It’s always nice to hear this, even if they are lying to you. It’s also fun to go to the doctor, because they are one of the few people in Honduras who can pronounce my last name; it’s always fun to hear them say “Jenifer Bubenik” and then they repeat it like four times before trying to guess where my last name is from. They usually guess Poland or Germany and then I tell them Czechoslovakia and they ask if I speak Czech and if that’s where my parents are from and I have to go through this whole family geneology in the doctor’s office trying to explain that it was my great-great grandparents that came over like 100 years ago. Then they want to know what State I am from and I try to explain that I have three different States and that just confuses them more and before you know it I have been in the doctors office for 30 minutes and we haven’t even discussed my ailment.

I have been very fortunate to not have too many of the “normal” problems PCV’s of Honduras have…recurring diarrhea, stomach problems, skin diseases/bacterial infections, you get the picture. But, I have had a shoulder problem acting up, especially the last three months. I finally called the PCMO, who gave me some muscle relaxers, then sent me to Teguz and to the orthopedic surgeon. A funny old man, with lots of nose hairs, and just a few on the top of his head, he cracked me up with his jokes during the analysis of my shoulder. When he put his hands on my back he said “Well that’s interesting” and I was like “What?” So, yesterday I had a CAT scan to see if anything else was “interesting” on my upper left shoulder, but it came back clear and he recommended physical therapy. Yesterday afternoon I headed to see the physical therapist doctor, who was based in another hospital. There are so many hospitals and clinics in Teguz that I have lost count. But, I’m pretty sure I have been to all of them now. As I was sitting in the waiting room, I realized that if there is one place in this country that I might meet a man who is boyfriend material, it will be in this physical therapy hospital. I think I spotted some of the Honduras soccer team players there. And, what did I look like yesterday? Like a homeless PCV that had just rolled in off the bus and out of a CAT scan. It was like 60 degrees in Teguz and I have on flip flops and my old fleece jacket, all stained, my hair is not combed and bobby-pined to the side. I am so embarrassed. I must look better the next time I show up here. (Note: I have now gotten a new haircut and bought some new boots. Tomorrow I am returning home to get my make up and “better” clothes. This has turned from a physical therapy mission to a man meeting mission).

Anyway, so after getting all my papers stamped (I will write a whole ‘nother blog entry on the importance of the stamp in this country. You just have no idea….) the doctor and I laugh about the importance of the stamp and all the papers it takes for one PCV and physical therapy, then he sends me up to the 6th floor. I arrive and the door is locked, so I must push a button and wait to pass through. After I get accepted, they make an appointment for the next day and I’m on my way.


Not my photo (just pretend this is me)

 On Wednesday morning I headed back for my first physical therapy appointment. I climb all the way up to the 6th floor, buzz my way through and meet my new therapists. They are so funny and lively, dancing to Bon Jovi as they welcome me in. They show me to my little cubicle with a massage table and instruct me change into a hospital gown and lay down (Note: It is SOOOOO cold in Teguz right now. I live in the Southern part of the country, where it is still 90 degrees right now. I have rolled up into Teguz in flip flops, short sleeve shirts, and one old fleece. When they instruct me to change into this robe, it is a tad bit nipply. Where are the blankets?) The physical therapy starts and is followed by an ultrasound and a massage. The doctor puts her hands on my shoulder and says “Duele aqui?” Ah, yes! She hits the perfect spot, but it begins to feel better after the session. I get dressed and she tells me to come back tomorrow. I have 10 more days of therapy, including Christmas Eve. 10 days in Teguz, just me, my computer, therapy, and a few other volunteers, here and there. I’ll be doing work from my computer, but there aren’t a whole lot of people in my site who use Internet. I will take the time to begin preparing my SPA grants for February. Better to be prepared then not at all, right?

City Mouse & the Country Mouse go to Tegucigalpa

Week of December 9, 2010




Sweet hammocks you can buy starting at $15

I just returned from a trip to Tegucigalpa where I attended the annual artisan fair at the US Embassy, put on by the business volunteers of PC Honduras. All PCV of Honduras were invited to attend with local artisans from their communities and I was proud to travel with a women’s group from one of my aldeas, nearby Santa Ana (by nearby I mean 2 hours away), where they make hammocks. These women spend anywhere from two days to a week making hammocks out of polyester or cotton for one/two/three/four people. You can fit a whole family of four in some of them. It was a great opportunity for the women to display their work.





Waiting early morning for a new bus

 As we set off for the trip, I met up with my counterpart, Santos, at 4:50 am on Monday morning. I had no idea what she looked like, but since I was the only gringa with blonde hair, she was able to spot me easily. I had the guy haul the three large sacks of hammocks up on the bus and we took off promptly at 5:00 am. About 30 minutes down the road the bus broke down and we were stranded on the side of the road, watching the sun come up and using our sacks of hammocks as seat cushions, while the chickens ran nearby and I wished that I had a car for about the millionth time in this country. After about 20 minutes, a new bus arrived and we all piled on, finishing the trip to Choluteca, where we connected to another bus for Tegucigalpa.


Once on the bus, I took a seat and promptly took a nap. My counterpart, Santos, had never been to Tegucigalpa before, so I had given her the window seat to allow her a full view of the countryside; this left my head bobbing in the wind as we jolted around the corners of the Southern mountains, but I was able to sleep all the way to the rest stop somewhere near Sabanagrande (the rosquilla capital of Honduras). Once there, I realized the true lessons of cross-cultural experience through the eyes of a PCV. Since my counterpart had never been to Tegucigalpa before (which is about 4 hours away from where I live on a bus, or 3 in a car, and is the capital of Honduras), every experience was new to her. When the bus stopped, I made sure she got off and showed her where the bathroom was, then I showed her where the food and drink “cafeteria” was and ordered food for us. This sounds really simple for many of us, but leaving our town everything begins to move at a fast pace and is extremely overwhelming for a person who is not accustomed to it. As we began to pull into Tegucigalpa, her eyes darted back and forth and she asked me questions about each and every building/car/street/vendor we crossed. Once we exited the bus, the taxi drivers wanted more money since we had three large sacks of hammocks, which cut into our budget that we hadn’t factored before. (Money was already tight, since this was not a PC paid trip. The groups had to find sponsors and our sponsors fell through at the last minute). After checking into the hotel, I wanted to show Santos all that Teguz has to offer, since this was her first time in the city and we only had one day. As we walked down the street toward the Central Park, I noticed her slow footsteps as she looked around and took everything in. It reminded me of the first time I visited New York City and wanted to see as much as possible, but had no clue what I was doing.



Merry Christmas from Teguz mall!

 Once in the Central Park I asked her what she would like for lunch and she replied “baleadas.” Umm…where am I supposed to find baleadas in the middle of Teguz (although it is the typical dish of Honduras, we are totally in the tourist area). I go to a local and ask them and they send me to a comedor, where the lady tells me she doesn’t have any baleadas today. I go to another comedor and get the same response. This is not going well. I ask Santos if she’d like to try a hamburger or pizza and she says no, so now I am out of luck. I see a crepe place nearby and go there. It’s the closest thing we are gonna get today. I ask if they can make a crepe with just ham and cheese and they say no. Sometimes I really hate Honduras. Like if you ask for anything not on the menu they can’t do it, or if you ask for an extra napkin it cost you extra, or an extra ketchup you can’t have it. So, I get her a crepe with chicken, cheese, peppers and onions. She picks out the peppers and onions, but she eats the rest. I devour mine. We continue on to the Multi-plaza mall. I have now been here twice in two weeks, which makes me feel like a regular after not going to a mall once in six months. Upon entering Santos stops and looks up at the giant Christmas tree the size of the one in Rockefeller Center. I try to remember the first time I ever went to a mall and can’t. I remember Christmas shopping with my mom when I was little, but for as long as I can remember we would go visit the mall in Round Rock, TX with my Grandma Evelyn and Aunt Donna. We would eat at the Taco Bell and go ice skating in the mall. That mall is probably now Dell headquarters. Anyway, the mall is something we as American’s are accustomed to, so as I take Santos towards the escalator, I realize she has never used one before. Right in front of the security guard with a gun big enough to do major damage, I walk on, take a few steps, and then run back towards her. Then, I take her hand and count 1, 2, 3 and tell her to step. She does it and holds on tight to me. As we exit she jumps and then laughs. I realize I probably shouldn’t have done this as she had ice cream in her hands….next time we will do it with all hands empty and accessible.

I now have to go into the bank to get change for the artisan fair tomorrow. I ask her if she would like to stay by the Christmas tree and watch people and she says yes. When I come back 15 minutes later she is in the same place. That is what comfort is. We continue to walk around the mall and I explain to her different stores from the USA and then we run into a timeline scene for the year 2010 that an artist has set up. He has little figures all over representing everything from Honduras’ visit to the World Cup to the Wikileaks scandal. Finally, we head into PriceSmart, which is like the Costco of Honduras; I have never been here before, so even I am overwhelmed. After going up and down the aisles for only 10 minutes I need to get out of here. It is way too much for me and anyway, how would I get 25 bottles of ketchup back on the bus?



Not my photo

 Before leaving town, we meet up with a bunch of other volunteers and their counterparts. We all decide to go see a movie, “Harry Potter,” of course. This is now the second time I have seen this movie, in a country where I have to take a bus four hours to a movie theater, then two taxis. I never read any of the books and only saw one other movie while living in the USA where there is a theater on every corner. Thank goodness for the other volunteers b/c they totally give my counterpart a rundown on Harry and his past, along with Hermione and her secret powers. I am really thankful that Santos is not Evangelical so she is okay with the wizards and their magic. After we all get settled with popcorn and Coke (of course, it’s Honduras), the spells begin and she is hiding under her shirt as the snakes come towards us on the screen and the black smokes looms everywhere.

When the artisan fair rolled around the next day we hauled all of our hammocks over to the US Embassy where we set up outside in the garden, with about 20 other PCV and their counterparts from all over Honduras. The morning started out slow, and it was winter-like cold in Teguz. For a girl who lives down in Southern Honduras now, I wear short sleeves and skirts everyday, so when I rolled up in Teguz and everyone was wearing jeans and boots, it came as a shock. (Note: it also reminded me of the style I used to have before I began wearing Teva’s everyday and not wearing makeup. I will admit I was slightly jealous when I saw one lady at the Embassy in her skinny jeans and tall brown boots. I used to look like that, now I just look dusty and sweaty.) When lunchtime rolled around, we were treated to hamburgers and hot dogs by the US Marines, although my counterpart didn’t like the hamburger so (it was devoured by me, b/c any American food goes quickly when PCV are around). By the time the fair ended we had sold 10 hammocks and got two more special orders, so it was a successful trip! Heading back down to Orocuina, I was super grateful for the opportunity to share a bit of the American lifestyle with my counterpart. I learned a lot from her this trip, which is what PC is all about; the whole cross-cultural experience. It also made me grateful for what I do have, b/c it is too easy to forget that living in America.

Baby, it's NOT Cold Outside

December 3, 2010


Hills near my house, beginning of December

 There is no snow anywhere near me, the temperatures are in the 90’s everyday, and many of the kids around me have never received a visit from old Saint Nick. But, Christmas decorations are everywhere I turn; they have been since mid-October. Many Hondurans don’t celebrate Halloween (or Thanksgiving), offering them more time to throw up the green trees and commercialize on the holiday that is my favorite time of year. This won’t be my first Christmas away from home, and probably not my last, but it will probably be the hottest, dustiest, and one without the most vacation time.

If I was in the states right now, I would probably be planning some great vacation with all the time I had saved up over the last year, attending nightly parties (throwing back free cocktails and exchanging secret Santa gifts), but here I am receiving visits from my PC boss, planning to attend an artisan fair and continuing Spanish lessons for three hours every week until the 23rd of December. Christmas is my favorite holiday. I start listening to Christmas music in July and watch “Christmas Vacation” at least 25 times before it is all said and done; living in San Diego for so many years I became accustomed to the warm weather with Christmas lights strung around, so why is it different here? Because, here it is ALWAYS hot. There is no down time, like in San Diego. There are no gift exchanges or people caroling outside. Only the wealthy homes have decorations mounted up on their homes and trees out on their patios. The large department stores/grocery stores are just as bad at commercializing this holiday as in the states, with everything from mini-lights to large holiday ball ornaments for sale. They are slightly more tacky here and a little bit more expensive in the states. It is also harder to get everything home to my house after lugging it all home on the bus, so I made a Christmas tree out of paper, by tracing my hands and cutting them out, which took me two days and a lot of patience.

(Insert note: Received my annual site visit from my boss this week and he was REALLY impressed with how far my Spanish has improved!  Yeah!  He also called my house a mansion, then got a flat tire and said he was never coming back to visit me.  So, I guess I'm good for a while!)

Big main tree, in Parque Central Tegucigalpa (sponsored by beer company)

When I say the feel of the season is different here, I really mean it. It is so hot where I live, way down south, near the borders of Nicaragua and El Salvador. Instead of snow right now, we are experiencing a drought and extended hot days; there is a period in the morning from 5-7 am where it is the perfect temperature. It is just right for working out, sitting outside and reading a book, taking a walk, etc. But, after that, it is like 4th of July on the beach, in every corner of the states. The ice cream man walks down my street and jingles his bell every day. It reminds me of when I was 5-years old and we lived in an apartment complex for a short time. My brother and I would run down everyday and buy orange push ups because they were our favorite. Now, I buy chocolate bars, and some for the neighborhood kids, too. People here don’t really listen to Christmas music, either. It is only Enrique Iglesias or Lady Gaga 24/7. I had an epiphany last week that I am going to contact Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Shakira and Enrique Iglesias and ask them to collaborate on a song for me about recycling. I know for sure if the people of Honduras hear them singing about how cool recycling is, they will no doubt support my program.



More hills near my house for a December bike ride

 Since I don’t have a TV I don’t get to watch all the Christmas specials that come on this time of year. Instead of running to the mailbox to see if I received one of the many Christmas cards I normally receive from my friends, I run to the post office to see if I received any mail at all. While I would normally be waiting for my mom, and all my other teacher friends to get out of school for winter break, the school year ended at mid-November and I have been busy attending different graduation ceremonies. Instead of walking in snow boots and going skiing, today I went on a bike ride up into the mountains and found cacti growing, in the beginning of December. I was reminded at how beautiful my town is and on the way back in I bought a whole watermelon for L20, or about $1. In the states I would be dreaming of a fresh, juicy watermelon in December.

So, while the snow sounds cool and great right now, I know in a few months everyone will be saying “When is this stuff going to melt?” When you get to that point, remember, I am down here where the islands have pina coladas and clear water. Don’t hesitate to come and visit.