Well, it is officially December in Honduras. I cannot even believe that I have been here going on four months. In 18 days, I will make "mid-adventure" trek back home to the states; soaking in all of my surroundings that were once all I knew of. I will take hot showers, sit on my parent's couch and watch T.V on their big screen T.V, eat sushi, turkey, roast beef, and omelettes. I will enter back into my "old life" briefly. There; I will take a portrait of it and take it back with me as I process all of the experiences that I have had thus far. I will apply all of my gratitude for all that I have torwards making the absolute most out of the rest of my experience here. I cannot believe it is almost time to do so. It surely doesn't feel like December. Sure; so many things here point to it being Christmas. A giant light up Santa Claus stands in front of the Dispensia supermarket. Supermercardo Las Palmas; our local shopping market is decorating in brightly colored strings of lights. While shopping for vegetables on Saturday for our Thanksgiving feast, I heard Feliz Navidad blaring at the usual ear-piercing level. Fireworks are being lit off at all hours of the night in the house next door to us; a sure sign that Christmas is coming according to the locals. Yes; you heard that correctly. Something we North Americans associate only with Independence Day is apparently correlated with Christmas here. Even more scary is that I went outside at 6:15am the other morning to head off to the bus stop when I saw my three year old neighbor in the nude trying to strike a match to light off a firework.
Yesterday was one of my more memorable days of my adventure thus far; but also one of the more heartbreaking. My coworkers and now good friend Wendy invited us out to her Aunt and Uncle's farm out in the country for the afternoon. It is when you travel down the road less traveled, miles away from the "city" of Juticalpa (I still can't seem to want to call this place a city for some reason) that you find the worst of the poverty. Wendy's family welcomed us with open arms, as has everyone else here when we have been guests in their home. We sat outside and ate fresh squash and drank the most delicious coffee I have ever drank (an odd combination, I know, but it was good) and "platicando"-ed with her family. I laid in a hammock and ate fresh fruit and played a game with her little cousins to see how far we could spit the seeds. I asked Wendy how many people lived in this humble home; and she did not even know. It seemed to me that about 15 people were living in a brick house with dirt floors and no electricity. I cringed as I watched a 10 year old jump from a tree branch into the river which was probably only 5 or 6 feet deep (he was at LEAST 2 stories up in the air...no exaggeration). I winced as I watched the children play barefoot amongst a pile of trash containing rusty nails. I had to walk away when I watched them start to rough-house ona big cement block, afraid someone was going to cut their head open. This is the reality here. Children as young as 3 years old play in the middle of the road, and go swimming in the river alone. There seems to be no level of fear amongst the parents where their children are. Seven year olds hold two years olds in the water when everyone goes swimming. Eight year olds take on the full role of a mother figure for their younger siblings. Swinging from a barbed wire fence? Nothing to worry about. Wrestling on concrete? It seems like everyone here is invicible. They live their lives as though there is no danger around them. It was heartbreaking to see people having to live among these conditions; but it brought great joy to my heart to spend a day with these children playing with them and enjoying their free spirits. Wendy's Mom is a doll and has invited us to another family member's house when we come back in January. I will very much look forward to it. It is days like yesterday that remind me of why I am here and what I find so beautiful about these people in this country. Here we were; total strangers at their door . Strangers whom I am certain they believe are wealthy and privileged. They shared with us the little that they have. Then invited us to come back again. I am starting to fall in love with Honduras all over again, the way that I did in April. The beauty in my day yesterday can not even be described in words. One would have to experience it him or her self. Miss and love you all! 18!!!!
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2 comments:
Erin
Your latest blog made me feel as though I were right there on the farm with you. I can see that you
are falling in love all over again with these beautiful people. It truly amazes me that they are so willing to welcome you with open arms. When you visit them again in January, you will have those same feelings. We are looking forward to your coming home in a few weeks, and we cant wait to hear about all your experiences.
Your words are beautfiul and continue to be an inspriration to all that read them. Thanks for sharing them with us.
Kathy O'
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