Site Rat

Here in Honduras, the other volunteers like to call me a ¨site rat.¨ This basically means that I stay in my site all the time, and that I don’t get out much. To the volunteers who live in my same area, I am a mystery. Basically unknown to everyone. When I finally show up to an event, they wonder what has happened to me all this time, and if I have turned into ¨one of them.¨ I’ve noticed that I tend to be quieter around my fellow Americans, and slightly more awkward. I remember the first volunteer gathering I went to, 2 months after I had gotten to site, was sort of a shock for me. Trying to adjust from speaking Spanish all the time to pure English was difficult. At one point, I was trying to describe to a fellow volunteer the classes I teach, and was painfully spitting the words out, as if I was a foreigner to my own language.. ¨Sorry,¨ I exclaimed to him sheepishly, ¨I can’t stop thinking in Spanish.¨ ¨It’s okay,¨ he answered, eyeing me with a curious look, ¨just eat, don’t worry about talking.¨

Now, don’t get me wrong. I see plenty of volunteers, probably about on average 2 times a month, which is actually astoundingly little compared to those who live in big cities and see other volunteers every day. Sometimes I thirst to see fellow patriots, and to speak in English, and to complain about our jobs. Sometimes I just need a break from the small town life and gossipy old ladies. But most of the time I’m just fine. Being here, completely immersing myself in the culture that surrounds me is exactly what I wanted. I eat the same food they eat. I ride the bus with them. I watch telenovelas with the women. I listen to the music here and dance at the parties. I even cook on a fire when the electricity goes out (anyone need a campfire lit?? I’m your girl!) Some would say I have basically become Honduran.

I was getting down on myself the other day for not hanging out with other volunteers more. The main reason I don’t is not because I don’t want to, but actually because I teach classes every Saturday, which counts as the students´ high school education. So I feel awful if I miss one day. And, of course, Saturday is the day people always choose to get together. But then I began thinking about the difference between relationships in Honduras and relationships in the US. When people become friends in the US, especially when they’re younger, it’s usually during a period of their lives when they will shortly move on. Therefore, even with people they barely knew in college, high school, and jobs, they will always be able to keep in contact if not by phone, by facebook or email. And with all the traveling that we gringos like to do, who knows who we cross paths with in the future. Here in the tiny town that I live in, as well as in all of Honduras, that is much, much different. Perhaps the friends we make in our towns are just a pastime for us, but to them, it’s a friendship for a lifetime. People who’s idea of a relationship isn’t just a person to go to a movie with on Saturday nights. Friends are real, true, and forever. And when volunteers come into their lives and quickly leave, without a trace, not even a call or an address, it hurts.

I love the experience I’m having, and almost pity those who aren’t experiencing the Peace Corps the way I am. Although I know that most of them actually pity me. Or look up to me. Or think me a mystery, I’m not quite sure. But I love it here. That’s why it’ll be really hard to come back…..if I ever do (just kidding, mom :)