All dogs go to heaven

Or at least I hope so.

My dog Maya got run over last week and was killed.

She was my baby and I am terribly devastated. People here in Honduras don't understand how it feels to loose an animal like this. They treat their dogs like trash and they don't comprehend why I am upset.

This is going to be a tough week. Good thing it's the last one. Or maybe bad thing.... Starting Saturday, I will be alone in my site.

I know that many of you are busy and have your own lives and lots of things going on, but the next couple of months are going to be tough. I need your love and support. Please find time to email me or write me a letter. It would really mean a lot to me. It's tough to be here sometimes and sometimes even if it's just a quick hello or a message on facebook, it really means a lot. Thanks to those of you who have done so. I really appreciate you.

I eat lots of tortillas.

There are certain things that I live on a daily basis and I forget to take note of their rarity or to share them with anyone. I realized the other day that I talk to my mom (my real one) every single day, but I just haven’t really said much or told her about things here. Life in a developing country is quite different from life in the U.S., if you can imagine that.

My mom mentioned that I haven’t complained to her about anything. As most of you know, this is contrary to that which is me. Somehow these lack of amenities and the presences of creepy crawly bugs and electroduchas are somewhat comforting. Life is just easier. But for you to get a feel of some things, I am not going to complain about anything, just describe for you. Take it for what it’s worth.

I get up every morning to the chickens crowing and dogs barking. I could sleep with my window closed, but it gets to stuffy and hot in my room (which by the way is decorated with Hannah Montana and Strawberry Shortcake, complete with S.S. sheets. Thanks, Lizabeth [my little sis]), so I elect to sleep with the window open and endure the sounds of the morning. After I force myself out of bed, I go to the bathroom. If you don’t know, you cannot flush toilet paper in the toilet here. You have to put it in the trash can. If the dogs and chickens don’t wake me up, the smell of the bathroom shared by 11 people does. There’s also a small apparatus missing from the tubos negros (sewage pipes) here as well. In the U.S. there is sort of a trap door on drains that eliminates smells and other things from returning. This said apparatus doesn’t exist here. After that, comes the water issue.

Water only comes here 2, sometimes 3 days a week. When it comes and there is running water, we are free to flush the toilet normally. Also, we then fill up the pila (pronounced: pee-luh, meaning the big thing that holds water) and that is the water we use for the next several days: brushing teeth, washing hands, clothes, and then there’s the toilet. When there’s not running water, well, toilets don’t flush because the tank can’t fill. Toilets work with gravity. If you throw a bucket-full of water into the toilet bowl, it will flush without using the little handle to do it. So on days without water, I exit the bathroom, fill up the pila (pronounced: pie-luh, large plastic bowl used for lots of things like flushing toilets and washing clothes and brushing teeth), and pour that water into the toilet bowl to flush it. As you can imagine, this isn’t a very sanitary practice. You have to be careful to pour the water fast enough to flush the toilet, but slow enough that you don’t get splattered.

I can be slightly a germ freak at times, and I have to say that bathrooms are a source of pain for me. I carefully get in and out of the shower, touching as little amount of the floor as possible, avoiding any splatter from the previously mentioned process. Ants and cockroaches also like that big trash can filled with used toilet paper. The other day I went to pick up the toilet paper and there were about 10 giant, black, carpenter ants that exited the roll of toilet paper and ran down my arm and I had a slight freak out. I do though, have hot water and I do enjoy that experience about our bathroom. However, there are little tricks to it. The first trick is to avoid getting shocked.

Hot water heaters don’t exist here either. Instead there’s the invention called the electroducha (electric shower). Basically, it is a shower head that is attached to an electric current. When the water is turned on, there is a little thermometer inside the electroducha that tells the electricity to turn on and heat the water. Sometimes that little thermometer doesn’t like to sense the water. “The water isn’t getting hot,” I yell to my little brother. “Pégale duro!” (Hit it hard!) my brother says in response. So after hitting the shower head a few times, carefully avoiding the little streams of water coming down from the exposed electrical cords and only being successful at this half of the time, I eventually get hot water and a gentle shock from the water that flows from the electrical wire. It’s all worth it to have water hot enough to steam up the bathroom mirror. I am one of few who has this privilege.

My family that I will return to on Tuesday doesn’t have this wonderful device called the electroducha. The weather there is a good 15-20 degrees cooler, but no hot water. So after telling my family here about this dreaded situation, they took me to their Ferraterría (like an Ace Hardware store, which my family owns) to resolve matters. The brought me this little device that is basically a piece of PVC pipe with holes drilled into it with a hairdryer coil inside it and a plug coming out of it. Sounds safe, huh? I paid about $6 for it and took it home. They call this thing a Calentadora de Agua (a hot water heater). The directions tell me to:

1. Submerge in water.

2. Connect the 110 volts 300 watts.

3. Disconnect before taking out of water.

4. The time needed to warm the water is proportional to the amount of water.

I forgot to mention that this is water that I will get from the pila (the one pronounced: pee-luh) and put into a quinto (5 gallon bucket). Then I will use the pila (the one pronounced: pie-luh) to pour the carefully heated water over myself to shower. Anything warmer than the ice water from the mountains is better than nothing.

It is now 6:45 a.m. and I have already done all of this. Let the day begin and bring on the tortillas!

Pigs are weird

Well, after what feels like months of waiting, I finally think that I know where I am going to be for the next two years. Yesterday I had my final site placement interview, and they told me about all the work I will be doing and about my site.

My site:

-1700 meters (5,600 ft), so MOUNTAINS!!

-Lenca (indigenous group of people)

-cold weather

-pine trees

-coffee area

-can grow lettuce!! and there are lots of tomatoes

-have electricity

-INTERNET

-walk a lot, which maybe I can get a horse

-small town

-one restaurant

-2 hours away from the closest city

-about 45 minutes away from the closest volunteer

Host fam:

-mom

-2 brothers (one is a teacher, other is in high school)

-pretty nice house b/c 2 other kids live in US and send money

Work:

-Reiken Library (youth groups, mobile library, community activities)

-Kindergarten (teaching dental hygiene)

-Primary school (1-6 grades; start a basketball team, dental hygiene, Spanish, Math)

-High School (HIV/AIDS education and more)

-Superintendent figure (Teaching English to teachers TEAM, teaching Math and Spanish methodologies, HIV/AIDS, Sex Education training)

-Youth Group from the Catholic Church (activities, soccer team)

-Women's Cooperative (they bake bread and sell it, but want to learn to cook other things and business skills)

It's kinda ridiculous how many counterparts that I have (those I listed are considered my counterparts). Normally, we have 2-4. I have 7. At least I won't be bored. I will have work for days, but I am excited. I am excited about being in a cold site too. Cold is relative here, but without a heater, I'm sure the nights will be chilly. Good thing I ended up getting that 30 degree sleeping bag. Mom also sent me a package with another coat and a sweatshirt.

Training is finally coming to a close, and I am very excited to be finished, but I am going to miss my family here terribly. I have really gotten extremely close to them and they have spoiled me lots. I am also sad to be leaving the kids at the orphanage. I'm sure that I will come back to visit quite a bit here. I am thinking about spending Christmas here with this family. My site is about 6-7 hours away from here by bus, which is rough. I am also not allowed to leave my site until late December. Ouch. These first few months of service are going to be crazy.

Today was Children's Day here in Honduras, so we had lots of celebrations. Next week is Independence Day (Sept 15), and so the bands are practicing constantly, and there are lots of excuses for parties. The drumming is becoming ridiculous. I think that my next door neighbor is a drummer or something, because it's like the drums are always beating.

Also, in case you didn't know, fútbol is king here, and I am not talking about the American kind. Honduras is actually really good too. Right now is the selection process for the World Cup if you live in a hole. The U.S. is in 1st place, closely followed by México (grrr), then Honduras! Honduras sadly lost to México last night and it was tough. The U.S. and Honduras play on October 12, which will determine who will go to South Africa for the World Cup next year.

Just some random thoughts I've had over the past few days:

Blessings. To be blessed or to bless others?

For the first time in my life, I don't like dogs, but only because the ones here never cease the barking and are never trained.

This little man has been hoeing that grass all day. Literally all day.

I'm tired of dust.

It's a very, very small world.

How do those lichens survive on the power lines?

I'm officially a Honduras resident and it says so in my passport!

Pigs are weird.

only if you know Spanish

Eres el Resultado de Ti Mismo

Tú eres el resultado de ti mismo, no culpes a nadie nunca,

nunca te quejes de nadie ni de nada, porque

fundamentalmente tú has hecho lo que quieres de tu vida.

Acepta la responsabilidad de edificarte a ti mismo y el valor

de acusarte a ti del fracaso, para volver a empezar corregirte,

el triunfo del verdadero hombre surge las cenizas del error.

Nunca te quejes de tu pobreza, tu soledad o tu suerte,

enfréntate con valor y acepta que de una y otra manera son

el resultado de tus actos y las pruebas que has de ganar.

No olvides que la causa de tu presente es tu pasado como la causa

de tu futuro es tu presente.

Aprende de los fuertes, de los audaces, imita a los valientes,

a los enérgicos, a los vencedores, a quienes no

aceptan situaciones, quienes vencieron a pesar de todo.

Piensa menos en tus problemas y más en tus estudios y los

problemas sin alimentarlos morirán.

Aprende a nacer desde el dolor y a ser más grande que el más

grande de los obstáculos.

Mírate en el espejo de ti mismo, comienza a ser sincero contigo,

reconociendote a ti mismo y serás libre y fuerte,

y dejarás de ser un títere de las circunstancias porque

tú mismo eres tu destino y nadie puede sustituirte en la construcción

de tu propio destino.

Levántate y mira por las mañanas y respira la luz del amanecer.

Tú eres parte de la fuerza de tu vida ahora,

despierta, lucha, camina, decídete y triunfarás en la vida.

Nunca pienses en la suerte porque la suerte es

el pretexto de los fracasados.

-Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

A couple days out of the week, we play soccer. In our little town, there is a cancha (field) that is made for 5 v 5 soccer. We rent the cancha for an hour and play some fast-pace soccer on this quick artificial turf. We usually have more than 10 of us though, so today we had 3 teams of 6 and played a little cut throat. There are some pretty awesome soccer players in our group. I can’t act like I’m not impressed. It’s great fun and my touch is finally starting to come back. I think in another 2 years, I’ll be a pretty damn good soccer player if we keep this up. The only problem will be finding guys that will let me play with them slash a girl’s team that I can play with.

Sometimes among the other PCT’s (Peace Corps Trainees), I am reminded that although I am from the same country as everyone else, the South should be it’s own country because of the vast differences that exist between us. For instance, I think that Alabama may be the last state in the country to allow corporal punishment aka spanking in the schools. Even Honduras is moving away from that. Also, it was brought to my attention that not everyone in the US knows what bush-hogging is. I thought that was common knowledge. Guess not. I got weird looks and no one else (except for my one friend from Gainsville) knew what a bush hog was. “You know that thing that goes behind a tractor and cuts the grass.” “Yeah, Jessie, we call that a mower.” Whatever. It’s a bush hog.

I walk a lot. I wish that I could wear one of those step things to see exactly how far I walk every day. At least I’ll have nice legs after two years of this. Maybe PC will just let me have a burro (donkey) or a bike. As I walk a lot, I pass dozens of people. Imagine a town where most people don’t have cars, people hang out on the streets, and everyone greets you with an “Adios”, “Que le vaya bien” (may you go well, literally), or more commonly, the pirops (compliments, although this sounds like a positive thing. They’re more annoying and compliment isn’t a good translation.).

We have less than 3 weeks of training left here in FBT. Days pass ever so slowly, but the weeks seem to fly. I have been in Honduras for a little over a month now and away from home for 2 months. At times that seems crazy because I can’t believe it’s already been that long, but other times I’m just ready to be done with training and the end doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.

I have been working at the orphanage every day this week, and at times, it has been extremely overwhelming, yet so gratifying. Today when I walked out towards the orphanage, which is out in a little field, about 8 little boys came running towards me, calling my name.... “Jessica! Jessica!” Their hugs are awesome and even though they have runny noses and probably have never brushed their teeth before in their life, they’re impossible to turn away without a hug and a kiss or two or three.

This week is a good week. I am pleased with where I am and where this crazy journey seems to be taking me. 8 weeks down, and about 108 more to go.

fotos

check out some pics.

that's all.

Ups and Downs

After weeks of literally elation and feeling as if nothing could go wrong.....

.... I had a pretty rough day yesterday. Then when I woke up today, I just did not want to be here. Reluctantly, I pushed through though. I guess that's just how it goes.

I can't really describe what it feels like to hit that wall. Everything is great at first: language learning, the adventure of a new town, the beauty of a developing nation, and the simplicity that comes with it. Yesterday I was frustrated with how my language skills are developing and how I did in my last interview. Then, people on the street who speak to you and call you gringas, suddenly make you mad, and you just want to cuss them out. I'm tired of walking everywhere (I live pretty far away from town). All in all, just frustration. Maybe a bit of culture shock and a craving for a bacon cheeseburger or some good chicken fingers and a sweet tea.

I just want a shower with clean water, one less tortilla, and maybe a bike to get me from here to there.

This morning we taught kindergartners how to brush their teeth in a local school. It was fun, but it's amazing how different kids are here. Classrooms are much different and the behavior of the students is a whole different animal.... some good and some bad.

This afternoon was tough too. I spent the day in the orphanage again. We painted with watercolors and read children's books in Spanish to the 20+ younger children there. I held a little girl over the toilet (because they don't have toilet seats) while she had diarrhea and tried not to vomit myself.... but then I got to rock a baby, give her a bottle, and sing her to sleep. Soon there were about 6 little girls huddled around me, listening to me sing.

These are the moments that allow me to carry on and face another day, knowing that I am here for a reason. These are the moments that bring tears to my eyes and remind me of the reality that I am a part of right now.

**By the way, if anyone is interested in making a donation or helping out in some way with this orphanage, I would greatly appreciate it. It's quite overwhelming and there's so much we could do, but don't have the resources to do so. If you think of something or are interested, let me know. Email me or something.

My dollar is up. With only $3 a day, I have to use them sparingly.