Sounds of Honduras

I really wish that I had some sort of sound recording device that I could carry around with me so that you could hear the sounds of my life here. Sounds, music, noise, laughter are things that can’t be described by words typed on my computer screen, yet it is these distinct sounds of Honduras, of my little pueblo, that make my life so interesting here.

From bus rides with vendedores selling their pizza, pizza diez lempiras, or freco, freco, freco, or the like, to the busy market streets, there are always voices selling, bargaining, piropo-ing (hitting on), or just saludando-ing (saying hello or the typical “buenas”) everywhere you go in this country. There are also the non-human sounds, and needless to say, like many other PCV’s I sleep with earplugs on a nightly basis. Dogs are abundant and so are their barks or even their yelps when they encounter a dog more bravo than the next who guards their territory with a bite. There is a young calf tied up across the street from my house. He moos a lot, but not a normal moo, because he hasn’t quite mastered it yet and it’s an interesting one at best. Chickens are also quite the novelty here and pretty much every family is a collector, including my new neighbor who just brought in about 10 new baby pollitos (chicks) to add to her growing collection. I can almost guarantee that if you talk to me on the phone, you are bound to hear at least one rooster crow, and I’m almost willing to place money on that. The most popular noise this week has been the cuetes (fireworks/crackers).

Hondurans begin celebrating Christmas on December 1st with a nightly event called Posadas. The children go to the chosen house of the evening to knock on the door like Mary and Joseph did looking for room in the inn. They sing Christmas carols in the house and are fed and are thankfully turned away like poor Maria y Josue. I say thankfully because last night’s posada was at my neighbor’s house and this posada brought a slew full of strange men and children to my front porch (where there is lots of room) while the women and other children were singing and eating inside. If Doña Iris would have had room in her inn last night, I don’t know that I would have gotten any sleep because of all the snoring men and laughter of little kids. Tonight there are just tons of firecrackers though and a few bolos (drunks) at the cantina behind my house. I wonder whose inn the kids are trying tonight.

The noises vary from one moment to the next and are sometimes even replaced with an eerie silence that fills the wind-blown streets of my mountain town during the lunch hour. During this time, husbands leave the fields to go home for a warm meal and a side of tortillas, leaving the outdoors abandoned and still. I took a walk around the town after my own lunch today (a yummy pasta and a neatly fried skinless, boneless chicken breast. Thank you, Jesus! [yes, I’m finally living and cooking on my own]) and the abandoned silence was enough to give me chills in the warm-sun day. This town is mysterious in so many ways and the empty, noise-less streets in this generally loud country always takes me back a step. Today the sun was warm, but there was a cool breeze, and I felt amazing in a sweatshirt, jeans, and flip flops. The mountains were so green against the beautiful, bright day and I could see to El Salvador and for whatever reason, today I felt slightly less awkward than I normally do walking around the dirt roads of my neighborhood, greeting everyone I passed (as requested/suggested by my counterparts).

After months of waiting, I finally got all moved into my new, giant house yesterday. What I am about to describe is atypical and does not have anything in common with the normal Peace Corps experience or Honduran life. My white, two-story, cement house is going to become home over the next two years. Yes, that’s right, two-story, 6 bedroom, two bath and complete with a balcony (actually two balconies). This house doesn’t fit in with the neighbors. It’s like one of those neighborhoods where all the houses are thess tutor-style homes and then there’s this big, Victorian one right in the mix, except here all the houses are adobe and only a few have indoor plumbing while mine is set up for hot, running water (and I’m not talking about from an electraducha), has tiled floors, a real roof, rooms for days, and you can spot it from the bus stop without a challenge. The only problem is that on my Peace Corps budget, I will never be able to afford the furniture or acquire enough volunteer hammy-downs to fill even the downstairs. I was, however, able to find some cement blocks and some scrap tongue-and-groove wood leftover from the techo (ceiling) construction to build two sets of shelves to put my books and clothes on. The upstairs balcony with the view of the mountains is amazing and stretches across the length of the front of the house. I’m trying to figure out a way to get my hammock up out there so I can have a place to read and relax while enjoying the afternoon sun that warms the porch. So you might wonder how much is this lavish home costing me and how I can afford it with my measly salary. Well, utilities and water and rent add up to a grand total of $47 a month, so that’s how.

I do have to say that the best part of the new house is having the ability to cook again. I can eat what I want, when I want, and I made chocolate oatmeal cookies and sweet tea today just because I could and ate an apple for dinner instead of the normal fried egg, refried beans, fried plantains, cheese, and tortillas just because I wanted to. Having my own independence again is already doing so much for my sanity. Five months without having to do a single thing for myself other than bathe or make many important decisions has seemed like a life-time for the independent, self-sufficient woman that I normally am or maybe used to be. I am looking forward to trying new recipes, having people over for dinner, and perfecting the Honduran coffee brewing style process in my own new home.

I cannot believe that Christmas is a mere 18 days away! Where does the time go? I have been gone from home for more than 5 months. Incredible. Less than 22 months to go. Ha!

Oh and I hear Bama won the SEC Championship. Come on, Florida! I was counting on you! I guess I’ll have to root for Alabama against Texas though even as much as the crimson and white go against my every grain. I’ve still yet to watch a football game this season, or at least a complete one. I did try on Thanksgiving, but it was just too long and I didn’t really care enough about the teams that were playing. I am looking forward to getting the Auburn/Alabama game on DVD from my Papaw. I hear Auburn almost won. :)


I hope you all are getting as much in the spirit of the season as I am. I can say that I am the happiest I have been in a long while and I cannot wait for Christmas. :)


My Christmas requests:
-art supplies of all kinds (markers, construction paper, paint, colored pencils, scissors)
-any good book you’ve read lately. read it, then pass it my way.
-new movies/music
-iTunes gift cards
-lotion/smell goods (but make sure to send it in plastic baggies)
-light-weight, non-breakable picture frames (for 4x6 fotos)
-the new international Kindle :) (only for any big spenders out there!)
-a mandolin

ESPECIALLY WANTED:
-cards, pictures, letters, love notes
(These only cost $.98 so surely you can spare that! This is the cheapest fix to making my day. I can assure you that. It’s not silly and it always means the most to me to get these precious cards/letters/notes of encouragement.)