Feliz Navidad

Ahhhhhh! It's almost Christmas, and here I am, trapped in Honduras with no one to celebrate it with except a woman I work with, and a couple of strangers I just met yesterday! Besides that, there is absolutely no snow here, I can count the number of Chrismas trees I've seen on one hand, and the feast they are preparing doesn't contain an ounce of eggnog. This isn't Christmas!

Perhaps that's why I have felt so good about the first Christmas ever that I have to spend away from my family. It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all. Especially in the country. Practically no one puts up Christmas trees or Christmas lights. They don't believe in Santa. I think the only reason he is present here is because of comercialization from the States. They don't really exchange presents either. This is actually a custom (although I'll admit I tend to anticipate it more than anything each year!) I think our country could do without. All the comercialization of Christmas and people wrapped up in buying gifts (no pun intended) for their loved ones seems to create such a frenzy and superficial excitement, people seem to forget the real meaning of Christmas.

Now don't worry friends, I am not about to get soft on you and spout off what I believe the real meaning of Christmas is......most of you already know that. I am just saying that there is a beauty in anticipating such a great holiday in a serene, quiet place where it is barely mentioned except at night, when the women of the town go to the church to pray a novena, waiting patiently for the anticipated day. And when the day finally comes, people sit around a table, enjoy each other's company as well as a carefully prepared delicious meal. Afterwards, there is no empty feeling of ¨is that it? Is that all the presents I got?¨ or ¨wow, we've been anticipating this day for soooooo long, and now it's over? Just like that?¨ It actually feels good.

I hope all you guys are having a great time this Christmas spending it with your families! And family, don't miss me too much! I am already missing you enough for all of us. Just enjoy eachother's company, and hopefully we will be reunited for the next Christmas! And I hope you all got me some good presents! Haha, just kidding.......sort of.........

A tall skinny latte, please...this time leave out the flavoring

When I went to coffee shops in the states, I always liked to try new things. I almost never would order the same thing twice, unless I really, really liked something. I supposed that is just part of my personality. I love trying new things. That's one reason why I'm down here in Honduras!

As most of you know, coffee is made of small beans, almost the size of a black bean, which is roasted and then ground into grains, which make a delicious drink. What most of you probably didn't know is that the coffee beans originally grow on trees in small berries that are the shape of blueberries, except that they turn red when ripe. And after being picked, they have a looooong ways to go before they are turned into the wonderful caffienated drink that we know and love!

First, they have to go through a maching that takes off the red outer shell. At this point, they look more like coffee beans than berries. After the shell has been taken off, they usually have to sit out for at least a day, in order to get rid of a filmy outer covering that is left on after the shell is taken off. They are then washed with clean water. During this process, the ¨bad beans¨are taken out. Usually the ones that have some of the outer shell still left on them, or do not have a bean inside the shell. These are separated, and consumed by the locals (which is why, when one goes to a coffee paradise like this where coffee is all around them, it is almost impossible to find GOOD coffee, because all the good stuff is exported, and the locals are left with the garbage). Then, the coffee is left out to dry for hours, sometimes days and days, depending on the strength of the sun. I found out while working here, that drying coffee is an art. There is a certain percentage of humidity that the coffee bean has to have, no more, no less, in order to be considered good. If it is too humid, it can have a sickly bitter taste to it. If it is too dry, it gets bland and flavorless.

The next part is the most simple, but possibly the most grueling. The coffee must be selected. The bad ones separated from the good ones. I have spent literally hours and hours separating coffee with the workers at the house I live in, only having separated about 50 pounds of coffee (about a 20th of the amount of coffee some people have) this is the most grueling, but also the most important, because the company they export their coffee to charges them for every defect the coffee has. For instance, for every 10 coffee beans they find that are black (they should be a pretty golden color), that is one defect and they get deducted the amount they get paid.

After all this is done, the coffee is brought to a warehouse, or in our case, the cooperative office, to be stored before being shipped off. This is the process we are in right now. There are 53 members in the cooperative. That means 53 different people have been coming to the cooperative ¨office¨ to drop off their coffee, weigh it, store it, and have it shipped off to the other side of the country to have it processed so it can be exported. That's right, there is still one more step to go before it can be exported. The coffee beans at this point are still in another outer shell, which needs to be stripped with another, more complicated machine that is hard to find. That is why they have to transport their coffee to have it processed and exported by a larger company.

All this work, just for one simple cup of coffee. Not to mention that all this still needs to be roasted and ground in order to make the drink! It just makes me wonder who the heck saw a bunch of red berries on a tree, and thought to himself ¨hmmm....I think I'll take the shell off of those berries, dry them in the sun, take of the other shell, roast it, ground it, and then make a drink out of it! Oh, yes, that would be delicious!¨

A shout out

I just wanted to give a shout out to my little sis Mary. I just talked to her last night, and she brought me so much joy! I was so happy to see that she is doing so well in college, and getting excellent grades as well.

She also told me about an extremely difficult situation that she just went through back home. The way she recounted the story, and by her reaction I could tell that she had taken the situation with extreme maturity and rationality. That is my sister. She has always been very mature for her age, and especially when unexpected and difficult situations arise, her maturity shines through even stronger. I love you, Mary! And I hope you get a blog soon, so I can start reading it!

Please Pick for me a Rose

St. Terese of Lisieux is one of the most adored and revered saints of the Catholic Church. She lived and extremely humble, simple life away and may have never been noticed so much if it hadn't been for the autobiography she wrote while in the convent, which revealed her simple, yet beautifully passionate faith for the Lord.

Right before she died, St. Terese promised to send a shower of roses down on the earth while she was in heaven. So now, whenever someone prays a Rose Novena to St. Terese, they get a rose. Obviously roses don't just come falling from the sky and into someone´s hands. Rather, they may see a rose on TV, or on a card or even a print on someone´s shirt and be reminded of God´s love. Other stories are more miraculous, like a dozen roses floating by you in a lake, while your boyfriend proposes to you in a canoe (true story).

I will admit that I never was much of a fan of these rose novenas. Maybe because I never had any miraculous stories, only roses printed on shirts, and things like that. And every time that I would get my roses, I couldn't help but wonder if it was just mere coincidence, or I was just noticing roses more because I was praying the novena.

That´s why when I began my rose novena here in Honduras, I was a bit skeptical. Especially because I hadn't seen a single rose since the day I stepped foot in Honduras. They just aren't common here at all. However, I had a feeling one day that I should start it, so I did. Admittingly somewhat half-heartedly each day.

On the fifth day, I got my rose. I had gone to a youth group that is held in the church every Saturday. The only reason I remembered to go, is because I was hanging out outside of a family´s house on the street, when some of the kids passed by going to the group. I still wasn't going to go, as I was caught up in conversation with the girl who lived in the house, but one of the kids looked up at me as she passed, and asked me if I was going. I felt bad, especially since I had talked to them about going earlier. So I went, and sat through a rather disappointing meeting, where they just sat around talking about how frustrated they were that no one ever came to the meetings. No praying was done, no songs were sang, no inspirational talks were given. Nothing. As I got up to leave, I noticed a few older women enter the church and go to the front and sit down, as if they were waiting for something to start. I asked one of the kids, and she told me they were praying a rosary. Intrigued, I walked towards the front, and sat down and began praying with them.

It wasn't until we were about half way through the rosary, when I finally noticed a large vase placed at the foot of the statue we were facing. In the vase were 8 beautiful roses staring right at me. 2 red, and 6 pink. My eyes quickly filled with tears, as I remembered that it was the last day of my rose novena. I had no idea where they came from, or why they were there, but I knew that in that specific moment, they were just for me.

Gracias a Dios

There is a department in Honduras called Gracias a Dios. I have always wondered why it was called that. Are there so many great things there that the people who named it just had to thank God for the place? It is actually the least inhabited part of Honduras, but I hear that it is really beautiful, and a great place to go for a hike.

Anyway, my original blog had nothing to do with this place, I was just reminded of it when I named my blog. Really, this is about things I have experienced during my stay here and have laughed at, marveled at, or simply felt God’s grace surrounding me.

1. The shoe shiner, who was given his lunch, a messy tortilla with tons of toppings, in the middle of shining the shoes of my counterpart, most likely his only customer in a while. He didn’t even miss a beat while munching on the tortilla in one hand, while continuing to shine the shoes with the other. He ate it in 15 seconds tops, and continued to do an excellent job shining the shoes after he finished. My counterpart didn’t seem surprised or upset at all that he was dripping food all around her shoes, but miraculously did not get anything on them.

2. The little girl who sat next to me on the bus yesterday, who I did not know at all. But halfway through the bus ride, she laid her sleepy head on my shoulder and quickly fell fast asleep. By the end of the bus ride, she was laying comfortably in my arms, sound asleep. It amazed me that she, and her mother who was standing up in the back, had both entrusted me, a complete stranger, to protect her during the ride.

3. The recent trip I made to the tip of the mountain that I live on. It was quite a hike up to the top, and a little dangerous. But the view from the top, where I could see El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua all in one view, was absolutely spectacular!

4. The stars here…I have never seen so many in my life!

5. The older Catholic man that I sat next to on the bus the other day. He kept congratulating me for the work that I was doing here, as well telling me ¨God bless you!¨

6. The ride I got from the town priest into the city, in order to get to a Thanksgiving feast put on by other volunteers in the area. It was on the back of a banged up pick-up, and I shared the ride with about 20 other people who had all gone to mass that day, and were hoping for a ride home. Some of them had told me to get in the front, but I kindly declined, not wanting any special attention because I was a gringa. I rode the entire way terrified out of my mind, but also extremely thankful for the ride God had blessed me, and the opportunity to see other volunteers for the first time in 2 months!

7. The man on the bus the other day, who was singing rancho music to himself quite loudly, but no one seemed to notice or care.

8. The note I got on a test turned into me by one of my students, that made me laugh to myself. It said ¨hay loov iu,¨ which, phonetically in Spanish sounds a lot like I love you (it took me a while to figure that out). It gave me a good laugh. Especially since he bombed his English test (not very funny), but somehow had learned how to say I love you in English (quite funny).

9. A recent theological discussion I had with a man who knew his stuff, and definately challenged me. The first one I have had since I got here, and definately the first I have ever had in Spanish!

10. Singing ¨Gangster Paradise¨ with the other volunteers in my area at a Kareoke bar in a nearby town. I don't think anyone in the bar was very amused, because all the other songs being sung were old spanish love songs. But we certainly had a good time!

Gracias a Dios, por estar conmigo siempre

Organic…..what a magical word

Organic foods are something that have always intrigued me. Each trip I made to the supermarket, or to the local farmer’s market, I would try to find some type of organic product to buy. One, because I knew it was healthier and better for me, but also because I always wanted to support the local farmers and even larger companies that cultivated organic produce.

I realized recently that consuming organic foods is a habit that I share with many people all over the world, in fact. It is becoming more and more popular to buy organic instead of conventional products. Meijer, the primary supermarket in Michigan, recently came out with their own organic products, which I began finding more and more of on the shelves of people’s homes that I visited. The prices were always quite a bit more for organic products, but that never seemed to bother the health-conscious, environmental-conscious consumer.

It is quite a different story in developing countries, however. The cooperative I work with just recently put on an organic fruit fair this last Saturday. It something we had been working on for months, and especially in the last couple of weeks leading up to it. The event was held in order to kick off what would hopefully be the beginning of an organic fruit market held every Saturday in the same place. The event was also an attempt to draw more people to buy organic products, and educate the general population on what is organic (something that hardly anyone in Honduras is educated on, except mostly the producers of organic products themselves).

In many aspects it was a great success. The fruit was all presented neatly and beautifully in small bags, which were then placed in baskets and spread out on tables that had been covered with tablecloths. A big change from the fruits that are sold in other markets, that are usually sold out of huge, dirty baskets placed on the ground where dust, trash and who knows what else can get into them. This is something that drew in a lot of people, and caused almost everyone who passed to buy something, although the price was a little steeper than most other fruits. Also, many larger companies and government organizations came that were invited, which gave a good name to the cooperative, and helped them prove to these big shots that they were capable and willing to work to get ahead and make a difference.

In other aspects, however, I was slightly disappointed with what seems to me to be almost a hopeless situation. We had spent the entire previous week putting out announcements in the radio, television and making fliers to stick in the papers. They all invited the general public of the city to the organic fruit fair, even telling them a little what organic fruit is. However, I can almost without a doubt say that absolutely nobody who read or heard any of our promotions were intrigued enough to come that day. Of all the buyers we had that day, I never once heard someone say ¨I heard the announcement on the radio, and couldn’t wait to come!¨ Why? Because most of the people here don’t seem to care in the least what is organic, or whether it is good for the environment, or even their health. They only care about what is cheaper. This is something that could take years and years to get into the heads of consumers, that consuming organic products is better for you and the world in general. However, it is also something that I think the general public in the United States has only recently caught on to. Therefore, I think we’re doing pretty darn well, considering.

Unwanted attention

This was the subject of many workshops during training. I always giggled to myself a little at how much energy they were putting forth just to prepare us for this unwanted attention. ¨How difficult can it be do deal with?¨ I kept thinking to myself. The answer came as sort of a shock to me within the first week I arrived to my town……very, very difficult. Almost so overwhelming sometimes, I just want to scream obscenities at the people around me. At first, it was just little kids who would just sit and stare at me without shame until I’d either shout ¨hola¨ at them, which would usually do the job of scaring them away, or run off in the other direction until they were out of site. Then, I began to notice the penetrating stares of all the young men in the town, who are apparently fascinated by my ¨pale¨ skin and ¨green¨ eyes (yes, my eyes have officially changed color). This includes some of the boys that I taught as well, which made it awkward and humorous at the same time. Awkward because they would shamelessly stare at me while I was teaching class, and sometimes even comment, and humorous because I still can’t believe how attractive I am to them. Also, once and a while I would meet random people in the street who would ask if I could take them with me back to the states, or ask about my jacket (which only cost $1 at a garage sale, but they would never believe that in a million years). Each of these things in and of themselves is not so bad. But having to deal with everything all at once, every single day can certainly get straining.

Therefore, I have come up with my own mechanisms to combat this unwanted attention, and think I have done a pretty good job thus far. The kids are the easiest to deal with. I remember one instance when I was out in the middle of the street, making a phone call to my sister (my phone only gets signal in the middle of the street, so that, unfortunately, is where I have most of my deep conversations with family back home). While I was calling, a group of kids passed me, and as is my normal custom, I smiled and said hello, and quickly turned the other way, hoping to catch a better signal. As I turned my head again to see how far the kids had gotten, I saw that they had sat down on the side of the street about 3 yards away, and were just staring at me. I realized quickly that they had wanted to hear me speak English. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a hold of Sarah, because if I had, I would have given one of them the phone and had them talk to her. Instead, after I got off the phone, I walked over to them and asked them their names, and what they were doing there. Of course, none of them wanted to answer me, because they were too ashamed to say they were listening to me. But I finally got them to talk, and also asked them if they wanted to learn a little English. So I sat there in the middle of the street, and gave these 4 or 5 kids a little English lesson. I am pretty sure they all forgot everything I taught them, but I do remember their faces, and say hi to them every time I pass them. I also speak the phrases I taught to them, but they never answer back. Perhaps some day…..

I haven’t met many people in the streets who ask to go with me to the states, but to the ones I do meet, and know that the only way they could go is illegally, I tell them that they don’t want to go. In reality, I try to help them understand a little that although they don’t have much here, their lives would be so much more complicated and devastating if they went to the states. I also try to help them to realize that the beautiful nature they live in is something that so many people can only dream of living in. I usually tell them that in the states, there aren’t any trees, and it’s really ugly and there’s lots of pollution (because although there are obviously pretty parts of the states, they most likely would be going to the city). And I always, always tell them that I love living here. Which is really the truth, and usually surprises them.

As for the men, I still haven’t figured out how to deal with them. I mostly ignore them, which has worked for me more or less. When I pass them in the street, I never fail to say hi, but usually in a strong, loud voice that infers that I have no intention of talking to them any further. Unfortunately, this doesn’t always work, as the smart asses like to say things back to me sometimes. But this tactic has more or less kept me out of trouble. I even did a pretty good job when I went to the town dance. I did just as I was told, and danced with as many men as possible so as not to show that I favored any certain man (because if I did, he would quickly become my ¨boyfriend,¨ or worse, the man I am ¨sleeping with¨). It was fun, after I got used to all the stares coming from all sides of the dance floor (I felt almost how a famous actress would feel in a bar in Tulsa…). So continues my life in a small town. I have told some people that I should enjoy it while it lasts, because I’m sure when I go back to the states, and don’t get stared at everywhere I go, a part of me will miss all this attention!

English classes

I have been teaching English to 9th graders here. Because it is so hard to get middle schools up and functioning (although this is one of the projects I’m working on, to get one in my town) out in the small towns in the mountains, the Honduran government started a program a few years back called ¨Maestro en Casa,¨ meaning in-home teacher. Ideally, the students go to class for 4 hours every Saturday, and during the week, listen to the radio for the rest of their classes. However, that is not how it usually works, especially because every teacher has a different pace, and is almost never in sync with what they are teaching on the radio. Each month is also split up by subject, so one month they will be taught math the entire time. The next month science, the next English and so on. The thing that makes this program function so easily is that the teachers are all volunteers, because they only come on Saturdays. Therefore, the government doesn’t really have to pay much for the program, and the teachers don’t have to come every day (usually teachers live in the city and walk into town every day to teach), which are usually the problems that arise with putting a school in such small towns.

So right when I got into my town, I had to finish up teaching the ninth graders, who had previously been taught by the volunteer before me. He had asked to extend a month so he could finish up teaching the class, but was rejected (no comment will be made on this subject…). So, luckily I was ready and willing to jump in and take his place for the month of October. Also, lucky for me, the subject of the month was English. How easy! Or so I thought.

After reading over the text for the first time, I quickly realized that I did not know any of the verb forms or rules of English. I only speak the language, I don’t study it! It was actually quite a bit harder than I had thought, and it took me a couple times teaching it before I really caught on. To think, if it took me that long, one who speaks the language fluently, I can’t imagine how hard it was for my students!

I also originally wanted to start teaching the class primarily in English, so they could at least begin to listen and understand the language better. But for the first class, I just got flustered and completely forgot to speak mostly English, and went for Spanish (odd, since one would think being nervous I would choose my native language). I also had originally hoped that the class would participate more, but the minute I called on someone to answer a question, they froze and refused to say a word. They were terrified to speak the language. At first I was a little frustrated by this fact, but then I quickly remembered the days of my high school Spanish class. My favorite Spanish teacher ever had also asked us at the beginning to speak Spanish in front of the whole class, and I remember being terrified. I resorted to staying silent for most of the class. Although she had good intentions, it simply didn’t work for many of us. Remembering that, I decided to give up my dreams of making them fluent in a month, and stuck to lecturing them in my broken Spanish and asking them to repeat the verbs all together (at least I got some participation in there).

I was excited by how well they were doing on their quizzes, and thought they were actually learning something….until the time came for the test. About a third failed, and of those who didn’t perhaps only 3 or 4 got A’s. I was devastated. I had wanted to at least help them to understand the language a little better, or get them excited about learning it. And they had learned some things. But I think mainly when it came time to put all the verb forms that we had learned together, they just got confused. I realized also that some just didn’t care. And those who did care, only cared about passing because that’s all you really need in the public schools here. Grades don’t really matter.

I wish I could say I made a difference in these kids lives, and made some of them excited to learn English, and helped them to realize how much knowing another language can help you get ahead. But sadly, I believe I did none of that. Obviously this is not a story of failure. It’s reality, that’s all. And definitely a learning experience. I really enjoyed teaching, and hope to teach English to all the grades next year. Hopefully, I’ll do better than I did this time.

Mi familia

During the times that I have felt lonely and bored here, I have thought about my family more than anything, and how much each one of them means to me. I recently made a comparison between me and my younger sister, Sarah, using the example of how each one of us acts upon our arrival home for the holidays. I realized the other day that this example works well with all of us Noble kids.

Theresa: When she comes home, she demands that everyone be at the airport, waiting for her arrival. And when one of us doesn´t show up, she bothers them until they feel extremely guilty for not being there.

David: Asks that as few people be there as possible, so as to draw as little attention to himself as possible. But he would be a little upset if nobody showed up.

Me: I never say a word, secretly hoping everyone shows up with balloons and flowers.

Sarah: Also hopes that everyone shows up with balloons and flowers, but makes sure that everyone knows it, and even tells them where they could go and buy the flowers.

Mary: Acts like she doesn´t really care if anyone shows up, but secretly hopes everyone does.

And that is my family in a nut shell. And boy do I miss them! I just wanted to let you all know how much I love you, and that I´ve been reading all of your blogs, which have made me cry, laugh, and miss you even more! I love you guys!

Dinah

I have a friend here named Dinah. She works for the family I live with. Some may call her a maid, but I don´t really like that term. Besides that, she does so much more than clean and cook. She also helps with the animals, and with the coffee during the harvest season (which is right now).

When we first met, I don´t think it was a very friendly interaction between the two of us. I wondered who she was, and what she was doing there, and she probably wondered the same thing. I found out eventually, that she lives in the house with the family, and goes once a week back to visit her family. Over time, especially when the family has gone away for the day, and just the two of us were left in the house, we got a chance to get to know each other.

One of our first conversations was pretty eye-opening for me. As we both talked about our backgrounds and our families, I realized how different we were. There were so many things that we may just never understand about each other, or the other´s culture. I remember one moment in particular, when I was showing her pictures that I had on my digital camera of friends back home and family. As she saw me take the camera out, I saw her look at it longingly and curiously. I immediately regretted the decision, not wanting to flash around what I had in front of her, knowing she may never be able to have something like that. I left this conversation very depressed, longing for my friends back home, and wishing I had something in common with this girl.

But as time has passed, I have been able to find out what we do have in common. We both like to dance, we both like to watch soccer, we both love watching the telenovela Zorro (yes, I finally gave in.....what else could I do??), and we both have sworn of boys for the time being, especially the ones who storm through our town, hooting and hollering when we walk by. I remember one night in particular, that changed my outlook on our friendship completely. We were both watching the Brazil vs. Ecuador soccer game. At one point, one of the players on the Brazil team scored a goal, and the announcers kept repeating his name over and over again ¨Kaká! Kaká!¨ I laughed to myself the first time I heard the name, as it sounds strikingly similar to the word ¨caca,¨ which means ¨poop¨in Spanish. I immediately stopped, reprimanding myself for my juvenile sense of humor. But after the fifth or sixth time his name was announced, I couldn´t help but say his name out loud, letting out a quiet giggle. Dinah looked over at me and smiled, as if she had been thinking the same thing, and said his name aloud too, but this time with the accent on the first syllable, so it sounded like the word ¨caca.¨ Pretty soon, we were both doubled over laughing, shouting his name in between shrieks of laughter. It was in that moment that I realized our backgrounds didn´t matter. We had both forgotten completely about the differences that separated us, and just kept laughing at the poor guy with an unfortunate last name.

I´d like a tall Skinny Latte, with a pump of Amaretto....

Back in the States, I was known to frequent coffee shops on a regular basis. I also woke up every morning, yearing for that morning cup of coffee that I just couldn´t live without.

That´s right, I was a coffee fanatic. Sometimes I would cringe at the thought of how much of my monthly paycheck was dedicated to coffee. So when I found out I was being sent to a small town up in the mountains of Honduras to work with coffee, naturally, I was ecstatic.

The coffee cooperative I am working with started in 2004. It was then that they began soliciting for an organic certification, which they obtained right away, seeing as they had been using organic farming practices all along. In 2005, they got a Peace Corps volunteer, the guy right before me, who helped them a lot with training other farmers in certification, and soliciting funds from banks and nearby NGOs, among other things. They are just beginning to have success with exporting their coffee, and are slowly growing into a stable, sustainable business. However, there are still quite a few kinks that need to be worked out, namely being the fact that absolutely no one has any sort of computer skills. Therefre, I have lately been acting as their secretary. It is not my preferred job, but works for the time being, while I settle in and get my bearings straight.

It has been quite an experience so far, working for the cooperative. Each officer of the cooperative has his or her given job, and they all do it well and efficiently (as far as I can see right now). Each one is also very involved in the community, and not only concerned for the well-being of their family and farms, but for the town as a whole as well. They are also all bright, motivated, and open to new ideas. For that I feel blessed. However, sometimes I wonder why they need me.....In reality, these people are extremely capable of continuing on their own, and doing good work. I know that I was sent here for a reason, though, and I am determined to find that out with time....(or as soon as possible)

Stream of Consciousness

Since I’ve had more time to think these past couple of weeks than I have had in the past 5 years combined, I thought it would be interesting to show what exactly goes through my head on a daily basis, however, slightly exaggerated.

as I’m opening my eyes in the morning: Holy crap! Where the hell am I??? Oh, yeah. I’m a Peace Corps volunteer in Honduras, and I’ll be living here for the next 2 years. How could I possibly forget?.....man, am I glad I get all this time to myself in the morning, to just read, do yoga, or whatever I feel like before I wander around looking for work! What a life, man-----15 minutes later-----Gosh, I’m so friggin´bored! And lonely. I wish I at least had a friend here that I could share my thoughts and feelings with….IN ENGLISH! Too bad my family is hundreds of miles away, and I only get cell phone service in one place in the middle of the street, where everyone can see me. I wish I could just call them right now in the privacy of my own room, and cry. I really feel like crying right now……I can’t believe I am going to be here for a whole two years! That reminds me, times a-wastin´! I’d better go.

in the street: Wow, what a lovely day! It is really absolutely beautiful here! I couldn’t have asked for a prettier site, with friendlier people! Look, here comes someone right now. ¨Hola, como esta?¨ Oh, gosh, here it comes. Why do they keep talking to me about the guy before me? Geeze, will you give it up? I don’t think I could ever live up to this guy! He did soooo much, and I know absolutely nothing. Oh, I’m a failure. That’s right. I suck. Why did I think I could ever do the Peace Corps anyway?? I wonder if they’d notice if I just left right now for the states…..wow, I can’t believe I remembered her name! She’s so nice! Honestly, I think I’ve done pretty well for myself in the first couple of weeks, getting to know people and making myself known! It’s incredible, really. I’m amazing. I’m going to do such a great job here, I can’t wait to get started! oh crap, here comes my counterpart……

Talking to my counterpart: Man, this dude talks fast. It’s been more than a week, and I still only understand half the words that come out of his mouth. Should I tell him to stop and repeat himself, or at least slow down? No, then he’ll just wonder why I never did that before. I’ll just keep asking a bunch of dumb questions….wait, he stopped talking. Quick, think of a question to make him think I was paying attention! (to my counterpart) ¨So, do you export all of the coffee you grow?¨ Oh, great. I’m pretty sure I’ve asked that question at least four times, and it had nothing to do with what he was talking to me about….well, he’s answering it, anyway. I wonder if he remembers answering it before….probably does. He probably thinks I’m just a dumb gringa, and that I’ll never help him do anything. This is great. I haven’t done a damn thing so far, and my counterpart thinks I’m useless. This could be the longest two years of my life…..

back at my house, at the end of the day: Man, this food is delicious. Really, I think I could eat beans and tortillas every day for every meal. Especially the way she cooks it, it´s great! I really like it here! The people especially are so laid back and down to earth ….oh, gosh. Telenovelas again? Can I not just find one women in this entire country who isn’t infatuated with this crap? Seriously, man. I wonder if I just slip out, they’ll notice. No, I have to sit here at least 20 more minutes with them, or else they’ll think I’m that strange and unsocial, and that I don’t want to spend time with them. But it’s not like they’re doing anything besides just watching TV…..just 15 more minutes, Liz….1 hour later….okay, it’s over. Now I really can go. ¨Buenas Noches!¨ Man, that took away from a good hour of my reading time! Oh, well. I at least have a couple of hours left before I should really go to bed…..20 minutes later, laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling….welp, done with that book. I guess I’ll go to bed, even though it’s only 8:00……nothing else to do….how much more of this can I really take?? 2 weeks down, 102 more to go……..

It's official!

Well, we were sworn in yesterday officially as volunteers. We all got up early in the morning, and got dressed in fancy dresses and suits and ties, and went to the US Embassy for a swearing in ceremony.

The ceremony reminded me a little bit of college graduation. There were various speakers, and each volunteer got a chance to introduce themselves, and say what project they were working with. The speeches were actually very inspiring. They weren't the cheesy college graduation speeches you get that seem to repeat the same idea over and over again "go out and change the world!" "You are all going to inspire the people you are around!" I guess those speeches were always just hard for me to swallow one after another, especially when I knew in my mind that most of these people didn't even really have any idea what their next step in life was, let alone were beginning to have ideas about changing the world. I suppose that is one of the reasons these speeches were so inspiring this time around. Because we really are getting ready to go out and change the world, but with a realistic attitude that the changes might not be so big.

The ceremony was followed by a delicious lunch, and an afternoon at the mansion of the Ambassador. His mansion consisted of a pool, tennis courts, a volleyball court and basketball court. So we definatly took advantage of the time, and had a great afternoon as new volunteers! Today, I am taking advantage of the fact that I'm a vounteer and sitting in their computer lounge at the Peace Corps office, using free internet (something we weren't able to do as trainees). I have been spending the day getting small errands done, and I am off tomorrow! I will probably not be able to get to the internet for a while, so if you don't hear from me, that would be why. So long friends, and I will talk to you the next time I emerge from my mountain......

My life is like a roller coaster baby, baby

This weekend was the first time I got to visit my site, my home for the next two years. While traveling to my site, I was sitting on the bus waiting for the last leg of the trip to start, when my cell phone rang. It was Gabe, the guy who had volunteered in my site before me. ¨congratulations on getting the awesomest site in Honduras!¨ he sang into the phone. I hestatingly said thank you, finding that hard to believe as I sat in the blistering heat, sweating from places on my body I didn't even know I could sweat from, waiting for the damn bus to start.

After I got into the site, although it was absolutely beautiful and even a little cooler than it had been at the foot of the mountain, it did not seem to get much better. My host family consisted of just an older couple who didn´t even know I was coming that weekend, and seemed almost annoyed that I was there. I also got a fairly large room to myself, but such little furniture and bed, that they fit in one small corner of my room, while the rest looked eerily like a warehouse. The next day, after going around and meeting all the people I was supposed to meet in the town, I reached my house at noon. The day of introductions was supposed to last the entire day, but somehow got cut short to one hour. So, when I reached my house, I found myself bored out of my mind. After eating lunch and having only so much to say to my host family that apparently didn´t even want me there, I went back to my room and read until I got bored with that, and proceded to sit on my bed and stare at the ceiling, wondering if this is what the next two years of my life would be like.

The next day was the complete opposite. It was filled with adventure and unexpected encounters. I went first to the class Gabe taught, to meet the students I will be teaching english to every Saturday for the next month. I introduced myself in front of the class, and sat down quickly to hear him teach. His Spanish was, of course, absolutely perfect and slightly intimidating. But besides that fact, I realized that it wouldn´t be so hard for me to do. I actually got excited about what I would teach my class, and how I would be as a teacher. I have never even thought of the profession, mainly because I have always known I cannot explain things worth crap, but more importantly I don´t have any patience (which I assume is important for a teacher). But either way, I got very excited thinking about the possibilities of teaching.

The thing that made me the most excited though, was the Catholic youth group that I joined very briefly. This youth group was meeting in the school, just two doors down from where the students were having class. So I just basically fell upon them unexpectedly. Very excited, and not really knowing what I was doing, I just entered the room and sat down in the circle, and listened as the girl talked about different kinds of leaders, which ones are good and which ones are bad. She didn´t even really say anything inspiring, and I didn´t even talk to one person there because I had to leave early, but I for the first time since I had been in Honduras, felt at home. I realized also the beauty of being Catholic. That anywhere you go in the world, you can always find someone who you know who shares the same beliefs as you, and celebrates the same Mass with you each Sunday (or once a month, as the people do in this town).

The last part of my day was also wonderful. I met for the first time the president of the coffee cooperative that I will be working with mostly over the next two years. She is a woman, which is pretty rare here in Honduras to have woman leaders, especially of farming cooperatives. She was extremely inviting and also very excited to welcome me to the team. One of the first things she said to me was how happy she was that I was a woman, because women have much more trust between one another that a man could never share with them. This made me extremely happy, especially considering that my counterpart, the vice-president of the cooperative and a very ¨machista¨ man, definately had not seemed happy that I was a woman. But after talking to her and hearing all about the work I will be doing for the cooperative, I got very excited, especially about their attempt to get the fruit grown in their area (which there is a TON of) certified as organic, so they can sell it as certified organic produce, as well as possibly make it into jams and ship it off to the states.

Well, this is all I have to say about my experience. A roller coaster, basically. And I have a feeling the next two years of my life with follow a strikingly similar pattern......Oh, and as one last note, my host family warmed up to me quickly, after the initial shock of having me show up at their door unexpectedly. I love them, and know we will get along just fine.

Hurricane Felix

Well, no worries my friends. Hurricane Felix did not get me, or anyone around me for that matter. It was actually quite disappointing. We were all at least expecting heavy rains or at least heavy winds as well, but just got a little drizzle that I'm not even sure was from the hurricane. So no worries, all is well and I have not gotten evacuated to Panama. I guess it is just not the time for that right now :)

So I have been thinking a lot about where they are going to send me. You see, this entire time during my training, my director has been searching out sites, counterparts, and families for each one of us volunteers. I keep wondering where I am going to be put, what kind of people will live in my community, and whether I will be placed by other volunteers that I will like. But as I start to worry about all of that stuff, I just have to take a deep breath and tell myself that everything will be okay. This entire experience thusfar has actually been a great lesson in patience and trust in God. I have really had to trust in the Lord during this time more than I ever have before. I know everyone worries about the towns they are sent to, whether they will like it, and whether they will be able to live in the conditions they are put it.

I definately cannot say that I haven´t fallen subject to the same preocupations. But whenever I am able to catch myself worrying about it, I just give it up to the Lord, and realize that whatever I am given is what He wants for me, therefore it will be the best for me. Take the family that I am living with right now, for example. They are the most amazing, friendly and easy-going people I have met here in Honduras. I know that they are a blessing from God to help me know that He is here with me, and to help me with my Spanish. They are just the people I needed to be placed with to help me with my Spanish especially, because they are very patient helping me learn the language, as well as very easy to talk to. And I was extremely worried at first that I would have a bad family! Well now I know, that the Lord is looking out for me. And even if I run into problems, which I am sure I will, He will help me to get out of them. So I await the announcement of my site with anticipation and excitement. We will find out in one week, and two weeks after that, we all leave for those sites, where we will live for the next two years of our lives. It is a scarey thought sometimes, but I know it is God´s will for me.

hermanas siempre

My little sister came to visit me this week! It was absolutely wonderful. When her taxi pulled up to the immigration building where I was waiting for her, I saw her immediately. Without even thinking about what would be my next move, I dropped all my stuff and ran towards her, throwing my arms around her into the first real hug I have had since being in Honduras.

The experience I had while she was here was kind of unreal. Having such a close family member here to share my experience with was really nice, but at the same time it felt strange, as if my two worlds were colliding. We were talking one night, and she told me that she understood how much trouble I was going through at the time, trying to integrate into a new group of gringo friends, trying to integrate into my family and community, and trying to learn Spanish all at the same time! That was extremely valuable, being able to have such a close family member there, actually seeing what I was going through and really being able to understand my problems. She gave me very good sisterly advice, and we had a lot of good laughs. But the best thing about having her there, was that I was able to be totally myself and completely goofy without having to worry about anything. I have not felt that exhilaration in a long time, and it was really nice to be able to share it with my sissy!

While Sarah was here, she of course made a wonderful impression on my family! They were excited that her Spanish was so good, so we could have conversations all together with ease. They also just loved her, because who doesn’t? The last night she was here, she made a pizza and apple pie for my family, because they wanted to try some comida from the states. It was a ton of fun to make, and actually turned out wonderfully! My mother here loved having her so much, that she actually cried when she left! Of course I cried to a little, and although I was sad to see her go, I am so happy for the precious time we got to spend together. It was just what I needed, and more!

Longest week ever...and one of the best!

This past week has been the longest few days that I have spent here in Honduras. Not because I have had a bad time, but my little sister is coming to visit tomorrow! I have been anticipating her arrival with every free thought I have had this week. Although I’ve been outside of the country and away from my family for only one month, it has felt like years. And with the thought of having two long years looming ahead of me, it has already been one of the longest months of my life. This is why when I see my sister this weekend, I will be more excited than I have ever been to see any member of my family.

One of my friends from Aquinas came to visit this Wednesday and Thursday. I thought it was pretty funny that he came right around the same time as my sister. Now all the other people in my training group think I’m extremely popular. My social life apparently `makes their heads spin` as one of my fellow trainees put it. I don’t mind having that reputation (that is a hint for any of you thinking of coming to visit me!). I had a really good time with him. He spent the night with my family, who took him in as if he were one of their own. My family here, like I have been saying, is superior. He is applying to go to the Peace Corps next year, so I enjoyed showing him the ropes and what living the Peace Corps life is REALLY like!

I was especially excited that he got to stay and experience the festivities of `culture day` that went on yesterday, which was one of the most fun days I have had so far here in Honduras. We started the day by getting up early in the morning, and each making a cultural dish with the families we lived with. I made a dish called `pan de pan,` which is kind of like bread pudding, and so delicious! When we got to the event, we started off by watching a cultural dance that some of the kinds from the middle school had prepared for us, which was really cool to watch! Then, some of our host mothers, including mine, got up and sang a Honduran song. After that, each Spanish class in our group presented a little diddy. My class played pin the tail on the donkey with everyone, which most people got a kick out of. I also danced a swing dance number with one of the guys in our group who is a great swing dancer. Everyone loved that, and I absolutely loved doing it! Now I have quite the reputation here of a ballerina, and I definately don't mind!

Although this week has been extremely long, it has also been exciting and eventful. I cannot wait for my sister to come though, so if you read this before tomorrow, pray that I am able to sleep!

A kiss from a gringa

Yesterday, I went with my family for the entire day to the neighboring town, where they were kicking off their week-long ¨ferria,¨ which is like a town fair. My mother is a hair stylist, so she had to be there early in the morning doing people’s hair starting at 10 in the morning. The festivities didn’t start until 4 o’clock, so I spent about half the day just hanging around, watching my host mother at work.

While I was waiting, I got my first ride on a honduran horse, which was especially exciting for me. I love to ride horses, although I have not had much experience with them. Soon enough, the festivities began with a parade that started at one end of the town, and went from there to the other side and back. The ¨parade¨ just consisted of two floats on which rode the recently crowned queens of the town, and a couple of girls riding horses, and half of the town following on foot. I walked with them for a while with the sun beating down on me, but gave about half way and turned around.

One of the most exciting events of the day was a contest, where rope was strung up high between two poles that ran across the main road of the town. On the rope, they put about 25 or 30 pieces of cloth with numbers written on them, and then gave the different girls in the town sashes with the same numbers on them. The goal of the game was for the men in the town to mount their horses, run towards the rope, and try to spear one of the numbers strung on there. Whichever number they speared, the girl wearing that number had to go up to him, give him her sash and kiss him! Of course, they gave me a sash also! The man who got the most numbers, got to enter the dance that night for free, and all the girls who had given him her sash, had to dance with him! It was very entertaining to watch, and so was I, apparantly. When my number was called, the entire time I was walking over to the guy, the crown was cheering like crazy. And the boy looked pretty pleased to get a kiss from a gringa! I’m glad I could make his day J

That night, the dance was supposed to start at 8 o´clock, but it was raining, and all the electricity went out at around 6, and didn’t come back on till around 8:30. Despite the delay, the whole town was still extremely excited, and the dance floor was filled by 11 that night, and apparently didn’t empty out until 4 in the morning! I only stayed for about two hours, dancing with the only other volunteer who decided to be nice enough to come and accompany me. We originally planning to branch out, and dance among the Hondurans, but after dancing the first couple of songs together, we realized we did not wish to dance like they were, which was mostly just close, uncomfortable, dirty dancing. So we proceded to do twists and turns, and dance like total gringos (aka-complete fools) the entire time, which caused us to be the most watched people on the dance floor (as if we weren’t already). I don’t think I have gotten more attention in all my life combined, as I did in those two hours of dancing. Every time I looked around, I saw eyes on us, often looking with confusion and disdain at us. It was the first time I got a real taste of what it will be like once I go to my town. I am a little anxious about that, but besides that, the day was a wonderful experience for me.

ch-ch-ch-changes

Changes are a good thing. I have had to keep telling myself that with every change that has come up in the last couple of months. Obviously leaving the states and coming down here was the greatest change I had to undergo, but I lived through that and, i think, transitioned with ease. Yesterday, I left what I had called home for the last month, and the wonderful family I had gotten to know, and moved to a much smaller, rural site.

I was very nervous at first. I had absolutely loved my family in the last city I was in, and the mother was an especially good cook. I was also just starting to get comfortable with all the other volunteers, and even enjoying my spanish classes! But against my wishes, and most of the other volunteers, we had to pack up only after a few short weeks and split up into our 3 separate project areas (youth development, municipal development, and protected areas management) and go to separate towns for more project-specific training.

When I arrived in the town yesterday, I quickly realized that my nervousness was unnecessary. Although the town was more rural, and my famiy had never taken in an American into their house before, I was welcomed with open arms as their own `hija` as they told me. This family has two boys, one 12 and one 13. They both speak a little English, and enjoy practicing with me. There are also 5 other volunteers in the small town with me (the other half of the people in our project area were placed in a neighboring town). For lunch, all of the families of the town had a huge welcoming lunch for us all, which was delicious and so wonderful for all of us. We felt very welcomed and appreciated because of that!

That evening, we all wandered around the town, and came across the soccer field, which of course, was the center of all activity in the town that night. There was actually a game of volleyball going on when we arrived, which me and another volunteer quickly ran to participate in. We lost our first game, but won the second one! We were a team of girls against boys, and I think the boys were especially upset after we beat them. All the games of volleyball ended right after we beat the boys, and I still wonder if it was a coincidence. After the volleyball game, all of us girls were invited to play a game of soccer against all the younger boys (we of course weren't good enough to play against the men). It was a lot of fun, and we might go with them on Sunday to play in an actual game against another team of girls in a neighboring town!

The first night in my new town was, as you can see, a blast. I love my new town and situation. Although changes can sometimes be hard, they are always a good thing.

Volunteer Visit

I am sorry it has taken me so long to write another entry. Not having a computer, and having to pay by the hour at the internet cafe makes it a bit difficult.

Well, this past weekend I went to visit a current volunteer to learn about the real Peace Corps life, and although I had a couple close encounters, I am glad to say I got back alive and in one piece. In order to get there, I was supposed to take a bus from a certain station in Tegucigulpa, but I ended up going to the wrong station, although it took me to the same place. When I figured out I had gone to the wrong station (after I had gotten on the bus), I promptly began to freak myself out, thinking I was going to the wrong city, and possibly there was another city in Honduras with the same name (this in fact happens a lot). Luckily, I had just gotten a cell phone the day before, so I called the volunteer who I went to visit, and told her my predicament. Fortunately, there was no need for me to freak out, and I realized quickly that I was okay.

When I got to the town, I was quite surprised by the size and cleanliness of the town. It was a very nice, clean town with electricity and indoor plumbing in all the houses! Not something always to be expected when going to a Peace Corps site, especially one in my project area. I found out that my volunteer actually did a lot of the same things most PAMers (that is what we call ourselves in my project area) do, she just has to travel to small towns outside of where she lives each day to do her work.

So I went with her on Friday to a small town where she was doing a latrine project. We had to take a bus about 15 minutes away, and from there it was about an hour and a half hike. This is an easy hike, she told me. Uphill most of the way. On our way up the hill, we were just chatting about peace corps when I heard behind me what actually sounded like a large animal dying. I looked behind me, and to my horror and surprise, saw an enormous bull standing about 10 yards away from us, looking like it could charge at any time. Annie, the volunteer I went to visit, told me to slowly walk away from it, telling me not to make a sound. When the bull was out of sight, she told me that was the angriest she has ever seen a bull in her life (and apparently she has seen a few!) So even though I was scared out of my wits for a short couple of minutes, I knew it would be a good story to tell! And thankfully, on our walk back, we didn't encounter the angry bull again!

When we finally arrived at the town, I got to see first-hand what the townspeople were like, how Annie interacted with them, and how she worked daily on her projects. The townspeople were all extremely friendly, and the counterpart she worked with was an incredibly independent and kind man. I enjoyed seeing how she worked with them, and was able to imagine myself very easily being able to interact with townspeople like that, and working with them as well. The visit was over all a great experience, and although reality hit hard, I appreciate very much everything I learned. I am excited to see how I will adjust to similar conditions once I am in my site!

From hand bags to A-frames

Today we learned how to build A-frames. It was the first time we actually got to go out and build something, and the first time I used a machete. It was absolutely exhilirating! I kept trying to chop a tree branch with the machete, but was getting nowhere. So one of my fellow volunteers told me just to pretend the branch was someone I really didn't like, and whack it! Another told me ¨just take out all your anger on it!¨ ¨But I don't have any anger!¨I exclaimed. But even so, I seemed to be able to whack harder at the branch when I pretended I did have anger to be released. I loved it, and hope I get the chance to use one every day when I'm at my sight!

These A-frames are used to measure the slope of land, so farmers know how far apart to plant their rows of crops. And between each row, so the land doesn't erode, they have to place either rows of rocks, which is extremely time consuming, or another type of plant. We learn a little bit about something new every day. Just so that they show us everything we could potentially be doing once we get to our sites. Last week, we learned how to make hand bags out of chip bags. A way to get rid of the trash in the towns, and also an income generation project especially for the women. I am excited about what we get to learn next. By the time I get out of the Peace Corps, I'm going to be able to build my own house, grow my own food, and make fire by rubbing two sticks together! But seriously, I really did learn how to make a fire today by rubbing two sticks together. I didn't try it yet, though. That will be saved for only extreme circumstances!

Michael Jackson to the Rescue

I think my emotions finally came up all at once in one day, when I started feeling sick. I have been absolutely fine up till this point. I have been meeting awesome people, adapting to the food and my surroundings fine, not missing home too much, etc. I thought I was integrating really well.

Then came Monday. I woke up feeling very queasy, and couldn´t concentrate all day. Finally, at the end of the day, I went to one of the staff members and told her how I was feeling. To my dismay, she ended up calling the doctor, who sent me to the hospital right away, just to make sure it wasn't dengue, a deadly disease contracted from mosquitos. I immediately began crying in the middle of the lobby of the Peace Corps office. I didn't want to go to the hospital, it was nothing, I swore to it! But they sent me anyway. The entire time, I still teared up thinking about how I wished I could at least call my mom and tell her what was going on, and how much I missed her. Then I began to think about everything else that I missed from the states, and all the doubts started to come and haunt me.

Tears were about to well up in my eyes once again, when ¨Billy Jean¨ by Michael Jackson came on the radio. I immediately brightened up, thinking of the numerous awesome 80s nights I had spent with my good friends in the States. I started humming to the music, and looked over at the driver, who happened to know the song too! We laughed, and started talking about how much we loved Micheal Jackson. Who would have known? Michael Jackson would help a peace corps volunteer in need!

What is Development?

We watched a video this week about development, and the different ways people have tried to help underdeveloped countries, but to no avail. It was very interesting, but even more interesting was a story that one of my fellow PCTs (Peace Corps trainee) shared with the group.

There was a lawer, recently graduated from Harvard law, who went down to Mexico, where he met a fisherman. This fisherman lived a simple life. He would only go out in his boat and fish for about 2 to 3 hours every day for his family, then come home and eat.

The lawyer told him 'sir, do you realize that if you improved this boat, and went out farther into the sea, you could catch more fish, and make more money?'

the fisherman asked, 'then what?'

'Well, you could start to sell the fish in the nearest town, and make even more profit, and maybe begin your own fishery.'

the fisherman's eyes began to widen with curiosity 'then what?'

'Well, you could then move your fishery to LA, and make even more money, and export the fish all over the country.'

Still curious as to how it would help him, the fisherman asked 'then what?'

Excited by his curiosity, the lawyer told him 'well, I suppose you would eventually have to move to New York City and start buying and selling stock on Wallstreet.'

'then what?' The fisherman asked

'Then you could retire with your family, and move to a small town in Mexico and go fishing 2 or 3 hours a day!'

This story really opened my eyes to exactly how much development we want to be doing in the towns we are placed. Some define development as the 'improvement of quality of life.' Well, who defines the quality of life? I think the Peace Corps has the right idea, of sending one or two people into a town at a time, living among them, and then finding out what they need to improve based on the desires of the townspeople. But there is a very fine line, I think. And it can be easy to cross. They keep emphasizing that we can't just go into our town with some huge plan of saving the world, and making all these great big changes, because we don't even know what they want. Sometimes, you don't even see the impact you made when you leave, it could even take years after that for something to happen. It is one of the most important things I need to remember.

Living the simple life

I was talking to one of my fellow volunteers the other day about how simply they live here. The host families we are living with right now are actually pretty well off compared to how we will be living in a few months. Even so, they are very conscious about the amount of electricity they use, because it is very expensive. They also have to conserve their water, so I have to take bucket baths, and even when they wash their dishes, they use barely any water.

I know when I was in Costa Rica, I didn´t really experience anything like this, because the people I lived with were even better off than I am in the States. But when I was in Guatemala, the town me and my older sister stayed in was very small, and the water was only turned on for an hour three times each week, because it was so scarce. For some reason, it hasn´t really hit me until I got here how much energy we use on a daily basis and don´t even stop to think about it. I know that we hear constantly how much more energy people from the States us than the rest of the world. But it doesn´t really become reality until you actually experience how other people live, and how it is such a different mind-set than you´ve ever experienced.

Before I came here, I read a few times that one of the hardest things for volunteers is coming back to the States. I am beginning to understand more why that is.

my first entry

I tried one other time to post an entry and it didn't seem to work. So here we go, I am trying again.

I have been here in Honduras for three days, and it feels like a million years since I have been at home. Already, I am adapting to the culture very well, and loving everything my host mother cooks for me. Today I had a wonderful creamy soup with carrots and some other foriegn vegetable in it I had never had before. I am hoping that she will teach me how to cook some of these things, because I know that when I'm living on my own, it will be wonderful to be able to cook like that for myself. Some people have asked if I miss American food. Not at all. I think the food here is mostly local and freshly made anyway. I big step up for me, from processed and greasy food I get in the states!

I am very excited to get out and start working on my project, which is called protected areas management. We have already been told that we will have to be extremely creative and resourceful when we are out there, because half of the resources we will need to do our project will not be available. So I am excited to tap into the creative side of my mind. I really do not think that I have or will ever be challenged like this again! It is truly an experience I think every American should go through!