The Dogs Eat Well

Honduras is having another cold front pass through it right now. A couple nights ago it supposedly got down to 7 C, 45 F. The days before and after weren´t quite that cold, but they were pretty windy and definitely uncomfortable. It wouldn´t be that bad in the US, but we have heated buildings and good insulation. You get really cold when you have no escape to warmth and you don´t have well-insulated clothes. Cristina at the office (boss-lady) said that she had never been so cold at night. The news said the cold is supposed to last for another 5 days and then hopefully we´ll be back to our really nice weather. ....Sorry if your cold weather isn´t going to end for a few months.

This morning as I was eating breakfast (milk, oat meal, some granola, a chopped banana, and a Honduran portion of sugar) and drinking coffee (with its own generous portion of sugar), I noticed that the dog bowls were full of a familiar mix of rice. A few weeks ago the mountain of clothes that showed up came with 5 pretty big boxes labelled ´Kids Against Hunger.´ The boxes were full of one pound bags of pre-mixed rice and spices complete with cooking instructions and nutrition information (in English). The boxes have been slowly disappearing. Recently when I was coming home from CASM I saw an unusually large pile of something burning outside of my house. I didn´t think too much of it because that is where they usually burn their trash. As un-cool as burning trash is, I´ve half-ways accepted it as a compromise when the only other option (and where plenty of trash ends up) is spread out on the road, in the river, or on some gorgeous field. Ellen, my Peace Corps neighbor, informed me that they were burning the pile of clothes that had come in a few weeks before. The clothes had come in to the mayor´s house and since there was a massive excess (read: too much for the mayor and his family to wear) he decided to give a truck load to the church, which my host-dad happens to be the pastor of. After my family had sorted through a fraction of the clothes, the 30ish church members came over and each took as much as they could carry home. Of the mountain that was left, they burned a significant amount. I was going to try to rescue some, but when I asked they said that they had burned the clothes with stains (I hadn´t previously noticed any stains) and they were saving the good clothes. Saving for what? I don´t know, but I do know there are plenty of very poor villagers within 15 km of La Campa whose clothes are much more stained than whatever was burnt.

Its sad to see that kind of waste. Being Mennonite, I think about the blankets that could have been made with the ´stained´ clothes. I think about the kids who raised money to send those boxes of rice, doubtless with the best of intentions. And I think about how similar some things are here and in the US, with our ridiculous amount of resources that routinely go to waste. Kinda like the untouched 20+ pound trays of pork loin, chicken, spagetti sauce, or anything else that Purdue dumps every day. It just hits me harder here because I see the need so clearly every day.

That being said, my family is very nice and they treat me very well. They buy me food that they think white people eat, like apples, peanut butter, and this factory-made toast that really is just a huge waste of energy. Haha I think they also maintain their fruit abundance for my benefit, and I really appreciate it. The current massive surplus is of bananas, so I´m doing my part in eating at least 4 (or ...6?) every day. Will we get to the bottom of the box?!??!?! Find out next time!

Bastante fotos!

Pictures from La Campa, San Manuel, San Sebastien, and when I visited Liz and Rachel in Teguc. ---And now, when Liz, Rachel, Gaby, Amanda and Andrew came to visit and pictures from the minor mudslides in San Manuel, a neighboring municipality.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2001199&l=023a7&id=1161480074

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2001200&l=addeb&id=1161480074

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2001201&l=8a2f9&id=1161480074

I'll post more some other time I have a decent internet connection. Probably about a month.
Nevermind, actually. I had more internet time so I loaded them all up, enjoy!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2001203&l=1596f&id=1161480074

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2001202&l=c50cc&id=1161480074

SALT report one!

I was supposed to write this thing for MCC describing my goals for this year and since it inspired some reflection, I thought it might be cool to post here. Apparently I was supposed to follow a format, but I managed to not see the attachment(happens fairly often), so I just wrote it out.

Coming into this year of service with SALT, I had little direction. I knew that I wanted to do work in the development of local, sustainable agriculture and other appropriate technologies. I had no formal education in either field, in fact all I knew was that the projects that I had heard of sounded exciting and seemed to mesh with my beliefs. Now that I have been in Honduras for nearly three months, I have come to understand that my role here is different than what I had originally hoped. I now see great value in immersing myself in Honduran culture, bringing the best of my culture to this one, and learning as much as I can about sustainable farming and appropriate technology.

I believe that by immersing myself in Honduran culture, it`s struggles and joys, I will be able to develop an alternate thought process and worldview. I want to acquaint myself with the struggles that many Hondurans regularly encounter in an effort to become more compassionate. A few of these are food insecurity, fragility of life, and lack of access to health care, transportation, and the world outside of their immediate community. While I view all of these as struggles, there are joys that come out of them as well. Some of these are the celebrations of life, death, and the harvest, the ability to focus on people and relationships as opposed to time or task, and the joys of community life that come from the development of networks of strong relationships.

I would never describe myself as patriotic, but Honduras has helped me appreciate my culture in different ways. Most children and adults here have never known a time free of obligation that is known in the United States as childhood. I have a desire to bless my community here with the practice of the American notion of childhood, a time to have fun and practice social and practical skills through rejuvenation and community building group games. Individuality is one thing that my culture can stress beyond what is healthy; however, a stronger endorsement of individuality, empowerment, and equality in this culture could go a very long ways. I also hope to develop compassionate leadership skills in both youth and adult groups. My ambitious goal with community groups is to inspire autonomous community based action that will empower individuals to bless their communities both socially and materially.

My last current major goals are to learn about local agriculture and sustainable farming and to encourage development of appropriate technologies. Since I know very little of these things, I can only try my hardest to soak up knowledge and provide humble suggestions. I want to learn about herbs, vegetables, animal care and meat production so that I can understand more of what it takes to sustain a community on healthy diets.

My attitude toward and understanding of these goals (and surely more that I don`t know yet) are prone to change as I attempt and am continuously frustrated by the challenges presented by each one. I will do my best to seek out the joys of the journey and keep the ultimate goal of Kingdom building steadily in mind.

¡El Grito Lenca!

There is a scream that runs in the blood of many Hondurans, those of Lencan descent. It is a passionate, full-bodied, and jubilant call that reminds people of this area of their shared lineage. I was recently told of the Lencan scream and how it sounds. You really can´t do it without laughing! When I ask people at my office to do it, they pass it off on someone else, saying that the other person can do it better. It sounds like ¡Oh-ee! or ¡Ee-oh! and it often changes pitch between sylables. Some people start low and go high, others start high and go low (this kind souns really strange, but I love it, so its the kind I do). My host dad starts high and goes higher with the Oh-ee version. Its a sound that has so much culture tied to it, you can´t help but love it.

Now that I know what it sounds like, I hear it all the time. I was on my way to Gracias the other day and I saw a woman outside of her house. I gave el grito Lenga a go and much to my amazement and joy, she replied with her own. On my way back from Gracias a couple days ago, the truck I was in had some nice rollbars so I was standing the whole way (much more comfortable and fun, I think). I saw a couple people I knew along the way and I gave them my proud grito Lenca. My parents claim I don´t have any Lencan heritage, but when throw my voice into that scream, my blood begs to differ.