Week of December 9, 2010
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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?
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| 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.
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