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.
martes, 27 de noviembre de 2007
viernes, 9 de noviembre de 2007
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!
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.
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.
martes, 23 de octubre de 2007
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!
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.
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.
martes, 16 de octubre de 2007
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)
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……..
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……..
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