There is nothing like an unexpected call from that place I called "home."

One of my La Ermita teachers, one of my best friends from Talanga called last weekend. I was so surprised I had NO clue who I was talking to. She seems slightly hurt that I had to ask who I was speaking to. I was so surprised and excited, I didn't know what to say. I happened to be at a dinner party when the call came. My friends here were slightly confused and entertained at hearing my excited Spanish. Although I haven't been planning to return for a few more years. The brief conversation stirred a desire to visit soon. I want to see everyone, say hello, see what is going on in my little town. I miss my hamaca and my tiny house on the dusty road. Of all the amazing places I have seen since I left Talanga just over a year ago, none of them will ever compare to that dusty town that was "home."

Where you are always wet, whether it's rain or sweat.

While that isn't the official slogan of the Amazon and the region, it should be. After 2 weeks of city between Bogota and Medellin, it was wonderful to find ourselves in small towns again. Although we met some very entertaining and engaging people, I was ready for a break. The cities were fun but I felt like new born in a new place... over-stimulated. There is just so much going on, so much to see and so many people! I guess it was probably good since I will, at some point, after transition back to life in the US.

We flew from Medellin to Leticia, Colombia. Leticia is a small isolated town on the Amazon river at the Brazil and Peru borders. I heard a rumor that buses to Leticia exist, but for all practical purposes, you cannot get there by land. Much of the land between central Colombia and Leticia is FARC territory but the Amazon, tres fronteras region is safe and outside FARC land. Leticia is a small and buzzing with motorcycles and a few cars. We only spent one night in Leticia before heading 2 hours up the Amazon with some new made friends, an English girl and a Colombian father-son. We initially planned on one night in Puerto Nariño but liked it so much we spent the next night there as well. We easily could have stayed more but had to move on. Puerto Nariño is the town of two vehicles. Literally, they have 2 motor vehilces: an ambulance and the garbage tractor that passes daily collecting trash, organic waste as well as plastics and glass. Yes, they are a model sustainable community with recycling and a ban on motor vehilces. After 15 years they will reasses whether to maintain the ban. I hope the do. The town is not big and it is so peaceful with birds everywhere and bordering a national park. We took a ride in a peque peque, a little canoe with a tiny motor up river, through two lakes to see a giant fish, Pirarucu (probably twice my size) which had been harpooned and landed in a boat smaller than ours, and to see the grey and pink dolphins. The pink dolphins weren't as pink as I expected but still fun to watch surface to breathe around the lake and near our boat. We also took several walks to nearby villages and sweat out every ounce of water we drank. We happened to be in town for the 8th Indigenous Olympics of Puerto Nariño. We walked about an hour in the heat to the village of San Francisco hoping to see archery and other traditional games. We were disappointed to find out those games weren't until the next day but did get to watch local fútbol and girls' basketball. We took a peque peque back as the sky opened and DUMPED rain on us, completely exposed. We couldn't stop laughing as the rain chilled us and the boat man started bailing.

The next day, we stopped at Isla de los Micos, Monkey Island where a little local man snuck bananas onto our heads and little monkeys leapt for the food, and devoured the fruit from our heads. At one point, I think there were 20-30 monkeys (according to Rachel 110) climbing on our shoulders, head, arms, chest, ontop of each other, anywhere they could find. Again, we found ourselves laughing hysterically. I cried I was laughing so hard. After the monkeys, the rest of our temporary adopted family headed back to Pto Nariño and Rachel and I headed back to Letcia. We crossed into Brasil to buy our boat tickets ran all over getting immigration sorted out and finally ended up in Santa Rosa, Peru, a little island in the middle of the Amazon, about 10 minutes from Leticia. We took the fast boat (10 hours) from Santa Rosa at 4am this morning to Iquitos, the biggest city in the world, not accessable by road. 450,000 people in a city you can only enter and leave by boat or plane. Crazy. Loving Peru so far, everyone wants to give you a taxi ride in likee 3 wheeled motor carts and everything is CHEAP! I'll get pictures soon...

it's too amazing to spend time writing about. Beautiful beaches, national parks, mountains, beautiful cities which i can't afford. I want to live in Bogota. It has a little of everything. Cartagena is too beautiful, I felt like a scrub walking around in the nicest clothes I own. Granted, those close aren't very nice but still.

The downside of Bogota, it's the coldest place I have been in 2.5 years.

Marta visited for 2 weeks. It was great to have her here and travel a bit with her. Our group increased to for the first part of Colombia. Now we are just two. It is just Rachel and I. We keep turning around to find the rest and realize they are home eating American food and spending time with family and friends.

Oh, by the way, the 106 year old pirate ship, Stahlratte, from San Blas, Panama to Cartagena, Colombia was and amazing 3 days. Captianed by a crazy German and full of motorcycles, we spent two days anchored between to unihabitted islands, snorkled, ate amazing food (including a fresh lobster feast) and swam in beatiful, clear blue ocean. Alice and I took to the crow's nest as we neared Cartagena and waved to local men fishing from dug-out canoes as we entered the beautiful bay. Other than losing everything of value, this life is a complete dream and often feels just as surreal and impossible. Still no camera so still no photos. Sorry! : )

I LOVE PANAMÁ!

We spent Halloween in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica then, even after a late night, caught a morning bus to the border and arrived in Bocas del Toro, Panamá by mid afternoon. We originally planned a few days in Bocas but loved it so much we stayed an entire week. Bocas is touristy but somehow retains a small town, local feel. It has the resources of a tourist trap but unlike many other places we have been, there are still locals! Biggest downside, you have to take a water taxi or bus to the beach and the chitres (sand flies) are horrible. We happened to arrive in Bocas at the beginning of a series of Panamanian Holidays. Nov 1 through 4 are all holidays (including Indepenence day) so there were many Panamanians on vacation from the city as well as other foriegn tourists who happened to pass through. Our last full day in Bocas was definitely in the top 5 days ever. I am not sure how to explain it but is just turned out as a great day. We met a girl (who grew up on Mercer Island) who met some guys from Panama city, one of which is the lawyer of an American hostel and real estate owner. We were invited (meaning we didn't have to pay) to go on Chester's boat to an empty island with a beautiful beach. We left the island Zapatilla to the big island of Bastimientos where Chester has a small, beautiful wood hut built on a dock over the water. All the furniture was hand carved wood made by a local man and surprisingly comfortable. We wandered the waters between each island buying fresh lobsters from the locals as they free dove for them. The lobster varied in size but averaged about $2 each. Of course, we had delicious garlic lobster with coconut curry rice cooked by Chester and an amazing salad made us. We then headed to Barco Hundido Bar (Sunken Ship) and danced the night away. The weather was perfect and sunny all day and the company was good. As we trolled back to the town of Bocas for dinner we entertained ourselves and Panamanians by learning local slang. The day and Bocas fue a otro nivel.

The following day, we took a night bus to Panama City and arrived at the hostel at 4:30am. Reception opens at 8 but the night guard let us sleep on the couches in the movie theater until we could check in. We wandered Casco Viejo, checked out some artisans and the presidencial palace. We plan to see the canal and Old Panama before heading to San Blas on the Caribbean coast Wed morning to catch the boat to Colombia.

I still don't have a camera but my Ipod has been recovered! I just have to find out how to get it from Mal País, CR to me. Hmmm...

If you would like to check out pictures, Rachel has been posting the highlights on facebook. I think she is the only Rachel Papernick and they should be available to everyone with a Facebook account. Otherwise, I will try to get a few from the girls posted.

My most prized material possession for the last 2 years is no longer with me. We thoroughly enjoyed a few days in Mal País/ Sta Teresa, Costa Rica on the Pacific coast. The stop was quick but nice and we met some interesting people. Unfortunately, my ipod grew arms, disconnected itself from the charger then grew legs and walked away. We have no idea how it disappeared and NOTHING else in our room was touched. Alice's ipod was even in plain site and mine was under my exploded luggage on the floor, further from the door. The following day's 12 hours of travel to the Caribbean coast was a bit brutal. No book, no music and hours and hours of bus... I guess now I have one less thing to carry, one less thing I can lose.

Yesterday we arrived in Puerto Viejo de Talamanca. All of Costa Rica is beautiful and the Costa Ricans are really kind. My biggest complaint about them is that sometimes they try to be too helpful.

We met a local dive instructor on the bus to Puerto Viejo. Through him, we found an opportunity to help out with a regional disaster. A hurricane in Florida (I think in '92) destroyed an aquarium containing 3 Lion Fish. Lion Fish are not native the to Caribbean are very poisonous and have no predators. The 3 little fish multiplied and multiplied and multiplied. They are now threatening many species and essentially the entire ecosystem of the Caribbean. Lion Fish eggs float on the surface so they can travel and spread over long distances very quickly. Groupers have been eating the Lion Fish but their poisonous spines kill the groupers. It's a disaster in the making. We spent the first half the day snorkeling the reef off the beach of Puerto Viejo looking for Lion Fish. Unfortunately, Alice, Rachel and I were unsuccessful at finding them but the guys working for the project trying to protect native species caught 7, 6 juveniles and a small adult. It was fun to get out and volunteer a little time to help out, even if we weren't so helpful.

Next we are getting ready for Halloween and trying to make of the most of the few days we have here. Ciao

Nicaragua was incredible. After Managua and Granada, we headed to the island on the lake, Ometepe. We climbed volcano Maderas expecting to see a crater lake. Instead, we tree climbed to the most anticlimactic summit I have ever experienced. It was freezing cold and so cloudy we could see about 10 meters into the crater. We heard later that the "lake" was rather unimpressive and others also found the hike disappointing. We have had some wonderful local guides but this was was sub par. He just didn't do much "guiding". Rachel sprained her ankle toward the bottom, in a hurry to end the hike. We did see white faced monkeys, definitely the highlight of that day. Although Ometepe's twin volcanoes are beautiful and the island tranquilo, I heard great things and my expectations weren't met. We left the island a day ahead of schedule and spent an extra on the beach in San Juan del Sur. I took a few goes at surfing on borrowed boards but since Rachel and Alice have never surfed and Rachel had a busted ankle and couldn't take a lesson, Alice decided to wait to learn until they can do it together. Costa Rica and Panama should provide opportunities. Instead, we spent an entire week on the beach. We had a few rainstorms but overall the weather was decent. Just cloudy enough to keep us from burning.

Yesterday, we arrived in Costa Rica. My first impression, Little America. Driving (we got a ride from a new friend) through winding mountain roads (paved but with potholes), a cloudy haze meeting the lush vegetation, I felt like I was back in the USA. That probably sounds weird but after a day here and wandering through the small volcano town of La Fortuna, I still feel like I am in Little America. Maybe I have just been in Honduras too long. Prices are significantly higher here than any of the other countries we have been to. We are struggling with the complicated conversion rate (575 colones to $1) and much higher prices. We knew Costa Rica was expensive but dishing out the cash is still hard when we are so accustomed to Honduran and Nicaraguan economies.

Off to a thermal river then the Pacific coast for more beach and surfing. It's a rough life...

Now that I am in transit you probably want to hear what I am doing... at the same time, I am highly unmotivated to spend much time in front of a computer when I could be hanging out on the beach or wandering around a new city. That said, updates will likely be few and far between, and without pictures (I'll get to that). Lo siento...

I finished my PC service amidst national curfews and demonstrations in the capital. We are supposed to spend the last week of service in and out of the office finishing reports, getting signitures and completing medical appointments. As we entered Tegus Monday afternoon, an announcement came on the radio: national curfew starting at 4:00pm due to the surprise return of the ousted president, Mel Zelaya. Announcing a 4pm curfew at 3:30 caused traffic to stop dead. What a way to start the last week...

The curfews resulted in PC cancelling our medical appointments and giving us vouchers to get physicals and parasite tests when we return to the States. That's great... IF you are going back! Since we only have 60 days to do the apponitments, I'll be stopping at the doctor's office in Panama. Booo! The week was frustrating as we spent 42 straight ours held up in our not so luxurious hotel. A 24 hour curfew means no resturants or grocery stores opened. The embassy was generous enough to donate military MREs for us (meals ready-to-eat, what soldiers eat in the field.) We planned to enjoy our time and eachother's company as we don't know when we will see each other again. The final week of service is usually full of fun, socializing, taking advantage of your favorite Tegus restuarants, and other volunteers passing through for goodbyes. needless to say, we searched for ways to enjoy ourselves in the Hotel Guadalupe II for the ENTIRE week. But we survived the demonstrations, the tear gas and each other.

As official RPCVs, about 5 of us headed to the Bay Island (off the north coast of Honduras) of Utila. Possibly my favorite place on Earth. We spent an entire week diving, hanging out in the ocean and getting too much sun. I wasn't ready to leave. Unfortunately, among all this fun, I left my camera out and it became the first casualty of the trip. The camera was old and can be replaced. What upsets me is all the photos I lost from the last several weeks.

If Traci hadn't flown in, I may still be in Utila. It was a good thing she got us moving. With her, Alice, Rachel and I visited Copan Ruins and headed for Guatemala. Antigua, Volcano Pacaya (hot lava glows, roasts your marshmellows and melts your shoes), Chichicastanengo market, Guatemala City (where Alice took the GRE!), Coban, Lanquin and the beautiful natural pools, caves and underground river of Semuc Champey then back to Guate, through El Salvador and on to Managua, Nicaragua. Since I took a detour to pick up a suitcase in Tegus between San Salvador and Managua, I just spent the last 4 nights in 4 different countries. I'm ready to slow down a bit and look forward to spending a few days in Granada. Traci left this morning to return to those crazy things like a job, husband and my dog. It was great having her company and showing her around this part of the world. It's back to just Alice, Rachel and I living it up unemployed and homeless... : )

last night I found a tarantula in my shower. A mediocre photo to come. I think the snake living my my backyard is the only thing I haven't found there yet. At least this time Bug was there to share the experience. Tarantulas are just so creepy...

Is this really how I am finishing my service? That last seven days have been the strangest combination of bad luck. Am I bringing it on myself?

It started last Friday with the iguana in my shower. Saturday was the robbery. Sunday, I realized around 2:00pm that the presentation papers for my HIV talk were at the collegio in an aldea. I needed to bring them with me that evening when I headed to Alice’s site to give the talk with her the next day. I re-made all of them in a slight panic. Monday, Alice and I gave the HIV talk to 9th graders and I can’t think of anything especially weird. Tuesday I shed my first few goodbye tears as one of my third grade classes said their goodbyes. Their mothers (and one father) sat in their children’s classroom as a few of the students passed on all they learned about dental health this year. I did a short presentation to reiterate the importance of tooth brushing and caring for baby teeth. Then, as the students were served a goodbye lunch in my honor, each one passed in front of the class and said what they wished to me. One boy gave me fake flowers. Another brought me corn on the cob. They all had sweet words. They begged me not to go, told me they love me and thanked me for all I taught them. A few just gave me a hug but no words came. As all 46 of them took their turn, my cheeks began to hurt from smiling so long. It is hard to respond to 8 and 9 year olds telling you they love you and begging you not to leave. “I have to go, my family misses me.” was all I could really say. I guess the weird thing that day was standing around during recess and realizing the teachers were discussing the reason we have pubic hair (to divert sweat). One of many conversations I passively listened to, curious about my teachers’ thoughts. In the afternoon I got my phone back and once again could communicate.

Wednesday started pretty well, I observed some of my teachers in their classrooms, a friend stopped by my house for lunch. A little before bedtime, I tried to climb into my hammock with my book, a bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine. I also had my cell phone to try calling Traci back. Somehow, as I crawled into the hammock my cell phone slipped out of my hand directly into my wine glass. Busted. I am incomunicada for the second time in less than a week! I was connected to the world for an entire day! That was unfortunate. Luckily, I think I have a cell phone I can borrow for my remaining 3 weeks, starting tomorrow. Hopefully I don’t break, lose or have this one stolen.

Today I lost the dog. He was running beside me from one of my aldea schools and all the way through town. I stopped to have my tires filled and see if my cell phone could be repaired. I thought he would noticed I stopped and wait for me as he usually stays within a few feet of me. With air in my tires I looked around and didn’t see Bello. I assumed he continued on and would be waiting for me at the front door. When I arrived home he wasn’t there. I headed back down the street and asked a few shop owners if they had seen my dog (he’s well known here). Nothing, no one saw him. I made a few loops, calling his name. I was worried someone stole him (I have been warned countless times that he will be stolen asked to gift him to everyone and their cousin.) I needed to get to the school so I headed home again. Sure enough, there he was. I have no idea where he had been but at least he made it home. A few hours later, as I left my house to visit various people and straighten out plans for the next few days (no phone, must visit) I encountered a school bus. As I passed the bus a young child stepped off and was greeted by her mother. I walked past the bus and headed past the church. Suddenly, something bumped me from behind. I WAS HIT BY A SCHOOL BUS! REALLY? It barely bumped me but still… I was startled and ran a few steps to keep from being killed! I don’t think the driver ever noticed; and this guy drives kids around?! Who gets hit by a school bus? I guess the same girl who gets shot in the head with a BB gun and goes through phones faster than I update my blog.

It has been seven days. I really hope this was just one strange week and the those to come are less eventful.

Really?... I knew I should not have written it but I did. My close of service survey, my greatest accomplishment (or biggest surprise or something) I answered as “not having a major security incident, at least not yet.” Being pick-pocketed didn’t count. Considering how much time I have spent in Tegus, how often I walked around the capital, traveled with luggage, at odd hours, hitch-hiked etc, I have taken unnecessary risks and been lucky so far. This time, I did everything right. I took the small direct bus, got on at the “station” in Tegus and waited on the bus until it left. Why do people have to be punks?!

6:28 pm, Saturday August 29: bus pulls out of Tegus

About 20 minutes outside of Tegucigalpa, a young guy says he wants to get off at the next “stop”. The ayudante (money collector) rolled his eyes and they pulled over to let him crawl all the way from the back seat. As soon as the kid stepped off the bus, he got back on and had a pistol in his hand. The ayudantes closed the door and the driver continued. I did not hear what the youth said to them. Bug (another PCV who lives near by and was traveling with me) noticed the gun too. The kid pointed the gun at the two ayudantes as they handed over all the money they had just collected and the earnings from earlier that day. The kid also robbed the driver and told him to keep driving. The ayudantes were checked again, lifting their shirts, turning their pockets inside-out, taking off their shoes. This kid looked about 18 years old as did his accomplice. The other guy started in the back asking for cell phones and money from every passenger. The first guy camped out in the front and started collecting from the passengers near him. The entire mini-bus (probably about 35-40 people) sat with our hands on our heads for about 15 minutes. When the accomplice from the back arrived at our row (near the door) he waved his gun toward Bug and I and asked for “celulares y dinero.” I had sat on my Peace Corps issued phone but the second he asked I handed it to him along with about 400 lempiras that were in my front pocket. I turned my pockets out to show that nothing else of value was in them. Luckily, they did not ask for more and we both got away with the majority of the money we had just gotten out of the ATM, our debit cards, groceries and overnight bags. I had kicked my backpack under the seat in front of me at the start of the robbery. If they had asked, I would have handed it over. I am glad they never asked.

After robbing everyone on the bus, the first guy told the driver to make a U-turn to drop he and his buddy off at a pre-arranged spot on the highway were get-away vehicles were waiting. As we returned to their drop-off point, the second guy glanced at me, and asked for my earrings. Really?! They are sterling, really, not worth much and everyone here where gold anyway! I gave up all 5 of my small sliver hoops. Anything to keep them from getting nervous and pulling the trigger. Finally the two assailants got off the busito and we again started heading toward Valle de Angeles to visit other Peace Corps friends. While the majority of the passengers started yelling at the driver and ayudantes for not stopping at the police station on the highway and letting the guys on the bus in the first place, Bug and I began to laugh it off. The passengers were upset because one woman apparently warned the ayudantes they were thieves and why did they let them on the bus? (Yet she still got on the bus after them.) The driver responded honestly, “I had a gun to my head, what did you want me to do?!”

Suddenly, a woman yelled that we were being followed and it was the motorcycle one of the robbers got on. Bug saw a motorcycle behind us, and a car did follow us until the last turn to the police station in Valle but whether it was the robbers or not, I have no idea. Oddly, those last few minutes we were ducked on the bus floor and the driver sped, honking toward town were as scary if not more frightening than the actual robbery. Women wailing and praying out-loud will have that affect.

While staring at a gun in the hand of someone using it as a means of control and threat, I was glad I remember to report my whereabouts to Peace Corps. I gave them my money, cell phone and earrings pleading silently for them to leave our wine and groceries. I completely forgot my camera was in my backpack as well. I wondered if my friend Fazy responded to the text message I sent her just minutes before, I hoped our friends started cooking dinner despite not hearing from us when we reached the halfway point as planned. I wondered if the guns were really loaded. Really? Those are the things that crossed my mind in the presence of two desperate kids with guns? It all turned out ok in the end. We made it to our destination, late and to worried friends (who were trying to call us and call us and call us) but safely. We corked a bottle of wine that survived the robbery and laughed all night in disbelief that the whole thing really happened. We told the story over and over, covering all the details. “My notebooks, my notebooks,” cried a university student in the front seat. He threw the backpack at her head and told her shut up about her notebooks as she continued to cry “My notebooks, my notebooks…” in relief. He took my small earrings and not Bug’s huge ones? He even examined my single hoops through two holes before deciding that he did indeed want that one as well. Money gets lost or spent, things can be replaced, everyone is safe. It is just one more story to share and an experience I hope I never forget, nor repeat.

Part I: The First Blow

It hit me. Wednesday August 19, 2009, 6:00pm, I realize for the first time that I am in fact, leaving. I spent the last several weeks answering various forms of the “how does it feel to be leaving” question the same way. “It doesn’t really feel like I am leaving… it hasn’t hit me yet.” Well folks, I’m going…

As my teachers started to arrive later than normal, I initially thought they were nervous for their final exam. But these are my level 2 teachers, I have worked with them for 2 years now, they haven’t arrived this late since TEAM 1! As they trickled in, each bearing something extra, I saw they were prepared for a fiesta. All year I wanted to bring them yellow jello. They notoriously have difficulty saying the color “yellow” and it comes out “jello”. On many occasions I have explained grinning that “jello” is food while “yellow” is the color, therefore, I wanted to bring them yellow jello. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find yellow so I settled for green. They still got a kick out of it. (By the way, most of them now say “yellow” correctly.) My small contribution was added to the snacks and cake they brought.

As they finished their exams we had our despidida (goodbye) in a corner of the municipal library where I held classes and some of the PC trainees worked around us setting up for a movie-night fundraiser scheduled after our class. I felt slightly awkward as people bustled around the library and the teachers presented me with gifts and said too many nice things about me. The despidida was kept short but they wouldn’t let me escape without each of their praise and thanks. “I love you,” one teacher told me as she hugged me goodbye for the evening. The thought they put into sending me off and their words were more than just the typical, “you are leaving so we should say something nice about you.” They talked about the things they took from my classes. It made me feel as though I did something meaningful and at least a few people were positively affected by my time here. I often felt as though I was growing personally through my service but wondered how much the community was taking from it. At least this small group of teachers has more confidence in themselves and their ability to teach English, I have seen them using more active teaching methods and their students seem to be retaining what they are teaching! If nothing else, I will never forget these 10 teachers who stuck with me and struggled through my first extended teaching experience. They even came back a second year! They probably taught me more than I them but either way, it appears a positive experience for all involved.

Part II: Friends in the Shower

You saw the cockroach (if you have forgotten, scan back a few months).

In addition Big Mama Cucaracha, I have seen mice and slugs in my shower on various occasions. Although in my opinion less disgusting, this morning (August 27) takes the cake in size and also wins with surprise factor, TWICE!

Today is Friday, water day. I had to leave to observe one of my TEAM teachers in her classroom and the water hadn’t started running yet. I opened the faucet and went to close the shower curtain to prevent the entire bathroom from becoming entirely drenched. The curtain stuck a bit before closing and I heard a thunk as something hit the shower floor. I was slightly taken aback when I saw a GIANT lizard in the bottom of my shower. It was actually a small iguana, my neighbors later confirmed. I think he was chilling out on the curtain rod while I got ready to leave (I generally bathe in the heat of the day or wash the dust/mud off in the evening.) Since I needed to leave, and he obviously got in somehow, I snapped a picture and left him to fend for himself and hopefully escape. I almost forgot about the entire incident. I returned a few hours later to running water and no electricity. Since the bathroom was dark, I reached toward the barrel to check that it was full and I could turn off the water. My hand did not hit water or the edge of the plastic barrel but the roughish skin of a reptile. I yelped with surprise and started laughing, disappointed no one was here to witness the spectacle. I brought my flashlight into the bathroom and there was my friend the iguana on the edge of the barrel closest to the faucet, tail hanging in this weekend’s bath water. I have to admit, I was startled. Still laughing, I couldn’t bring myself to reach in and turn off the water. I went looking for my 13 neighbor, he won’t be afraid of a lizard! He was not home but his 15 year old sister, mom (my tortilla lady) and the 2 year old were there to save me from the lizard and have a good laugh at me. They took the lizard outside where I took a few photos, a kid passing by took over and it escaped into my neighbors’ yard before they had a chance to kill it. Apparently this type of iguana bites and they were set on eliminating it and preventing it from pestering other neighbors. At least I gave them a good laugh and one more “Crazy Gringa” story to remember me.

I just hope I don’t find any more unpleasant friends in my bathroom in the next 3 weeks.

PS: my mental state is questionable. I have at least 4 days worth of things to plan in the next two weeks and one available day. My last week in site is useless when it comes to work. Tuesday is Honduran Independence day and Thursday is Teachers’ day. That means no school all week and the following Monday I head to Tegus for my remaining days. How did the last month of service become the most stressful and busiest time of my entire 2 years? You may or may not hear from me again before I hit the road with Alice and Rachel. Buen viaje a mi?!

Photos: TEAM 1 and 2 teachers, my amigo iguana, me looking 5 yrs old opening my gift, Talanga’s giant Ceiba tree and mural

I have recently engaged in a relationship with my neighbors that benefits us both. My neighbors’ benefit is more concrete while mine is an ease of conscience. I get to feel good about myself. First, some background information about the ways of life here. In Talanga, there is running water twice a week. In my neighborhood Monday mornings and Friday mornings the faucets start working, often around 6 or 6:30 although it could be anytime. Water generally runs for the majority of the morning, sometimes into early afternoon. You never really know when it will come and go. Since the other 5 days there is no water, everyone spends these mornings filling every container and barrel they can find, hence the pila. A pila is essentially a concrete holding tank for water. The pila needs to be emptied and cleaned every so often. I have algae problems therefore my pila needs cleaning almost every week.

So, water comes every Monday and Friday, except when it doesn’t. Some days the water just doesn’t come. This usually does not cause problems for me. I am one person living in a small house with a rather large pila and a barrel in the bathroom which I use to bathe, wash hands and flush the toilet. I generally only use the pila water to wash clothes and dishes. Some times laundry misses the to-do list between water coming. Therefore, I have a huge pila full of water. When it comes time to clean the pila I must drain it completely. Occasionally, I see my neighbor kids walking to the river with buckets. A family with three adolescents and a toddler uses a lot of water. Just the laundry dirtied by a two year old probably uses more wash water than I use all week. When water inexplicably does not come, it causes stress and problems for many families. The wealthier families can buy extra water but that isn’t a realistic option for everyone.

I caught my neighbors walking to the river with buckets on a day I sat with a full pila. I invited the kids to bring water from my house to theirs instead of from the river. I think they felt a little guilty the first time, worried I would run out of water because I gave it to them. The water has been surprisingly reliable the last few months, until last week. Last Monday, water did not come, by Tuesday they were scraping the last drops from the bottom of their pila. The mom poked her head in my door (which is always standing wide open). She hesitantly asked if I could give them a bucket of water. When she saw my pila was full and I stressed that there is no way I could use it all, to take as much as they needed, she sent the kids back for a few more buckets. Thursday the son popped his head in, “Laura, regaleme agua por favor.” Of course I will give you water! The family benefits by receiving free water from across the street instead of hauling it several blocks (slightly up hill). Talanga water is considered potable but I would not call it “clean” by any means. Some days it comes through the tap brown and muddy, especially after heavy rainstorms. That is just what you can see, I have not had my water quality checked for bacteria, parasites and other problems, I am afraid of the findings. Still, I believe the pila water is cleaner than the visibly polluted river (again, I don’t even want to speculate about what I can’t see!) How do I benefit from this arrangement? I feel better that my neighbors aren’t using river water (both for their own health and what is left of the health of the small river.) I also don’t feel guilty when I clean the pila and waste gallons and gallons of water. I realize this is not a sustainable solution but it works for now. In two months they will have to return to the river. Until then, they can keep laughing at me each time I buy 1 Lempira (about 6 cents) of tortillas. They understand that I am just one gringa and don’t eat tortillas with every meal but they still get a kick out of my 1 Lempira. Most people buy many, EVERY day. My host mom makes 60-70 tortillas daily. I enjoy my 3-5 (depending who fetches them for me) maybe once a week.

Yes, the "coup" continues but I don't really have any news for you. Life in Talanga still hasn't changed much.

Photos: 3rd grade dramas about hygiene and tooth brushing, my pila

As promised, here are some photos from the last two months. Projects in the schools, teachers, the dinner I made for Honduran friends, my neighbor hood the day of the falling trees (the trees, neighbors, the police truck from my front door, etc), Bello on my front stoop, cutting the grass along the highway-with machetes, WA pride, this years Pasionistas (yep, group is changing again ALREADY!).

Yes, I am still fine, just frustrated and STUCK! I am stuck in my site and haven't been to Tegus in 3 solid weeks. I am pretty sure that is a record. I have never stayed away from Tegus for more than 3 weeks. I WANT OUT!!!

But, at least I have my health...

photos soon... it's a "promise"

Over the last two years, I have learned a lot about priorities. Well, that isn’t necessarily true. I am not sure I have learned so much as that the reality of priorities and the role they play in life is a constant presence. The way people prioritize has been a fountain of frustration throughout my service. Of course everyone prioritizes differently, especially once you cross the culture boundary. Some things just seem obvious, like health, hygiene and education. (Granted, my hygiene suffers on occasion and I eat foods and at places which I know will probably make me sick.) Thursday, I was reminded of how funny life is and priorities. It often takes days, weeks, sometimes months, for me to hear about events and news, especially from the US. I called a fellow volunteer to invite her to help judge the “First English Music Festival.” She answered with something to the effect of, “Hey what’s up, did you know MICHAEL JACKSON DIED! I just saw it on CNN.” It was strange to hear about such news within hours (I believe) of the actual event. An hour or two later, I stopped by the Passionist volunteers’ house and there too I heard the news. From the Passionists’ I visited one of my teachers and her family where she relayed the news and I later saw it on the local TV station, “Talanga Vision”. Apparently Michael Jackson (And Farah Fawcett as a side note on two of the four occasions) was just big news that I not only heard about it the same week, but FOUR times the day of! Life is funny.

The above paragraph was written June 27. Before the coup.

Speaking of news, it is amazing how little I have about the current situation here. You may have more information than I do. Especially since I do not own a TV or radio.

The question everyone wants to know: “What the hell is going on in Honduras?”

Yes, I am fine. Although the government is in major transition and somewhat unstable at the moment; violence (as far as I know, to this point) has been minimal. There have been many protests in the capital and bigger cities but they seem to be mostly peaceful. As for most small towns, life has continued more or less as normal. Here is what I can tell you and my understanding of the situation:

Last Sunday, June 28, “ex-President” Mel Zelaya had scheduled a special election to put a fourth box on the ballot. This new issue known as the “Cuarta Urna” would change the process to amend the constitution. The president would be able to make changes without going through Congress (which is currently the process). “While Honduran law allows for a constitutional rewrite, the power to open that door does not lie with the president. A constituent assembly can only be called through a national referendum approved by its Congress.” The National Congress, Supreme Court and Military stated that the election was unconstitutional and Sunday morning Mel made a statement from Costa Rica. Honduras had no power and news and radio stations were down from about 7:15am until midday. In the afternoon, Congress appointed the next in line (Micheletti, the president of Congress) as the new acting president until the next president is elected in November and sworn-in in January (as previously scheduled). This is an election year and Honduras has a single term limit for the office of President of the Republic.

Monday, school was cancelled. In many places schools have not yet reopened. Kids and teachers in Talanga returned to school on Tuesday and Wednesday but classes have been cancelled again today and tomorrow. Mel is scheduled to return to Honduras on Saturday.

Throughout the week, protesters for both Zelaya and Micheletti have gathered in the Capital and other cities. Some roadblocks have occurred. Peace Corps volunteers have very limited travel permission. I hate to speak for others, but I think I am safe in saying most PCVs just want the situation to end so we can go back to working and the previous level of travel freedom.

I never thought I would live through a coup. I must say, the view from my post in Talanga would not make a very good movie script. Considering power outages and cancelled school happen all too regularly, the only thing truly out of the ordinary is the news. Other towns may be different and I know some places lost power for 2 days straight during the week. As for now, we await an end to the restrictions and the reasons they are necessary. Happy 4th of July.

I tried to add photos but they won't upload. Sorry, internt sucks coup or no coup.

I just finished reading What is the What, the story of a Sudanese refugee who eventually moves to the US. The book is great but one small detail struck me and has stayed with me over the last week or so since I read the passage. At some point during his years running from war, walking from one refugee camp to another, and learning about readjusting to life in the States, the young Sudanese kids were told to think of their favorite day, the best day ever. They were to summon the thought of this day whenever necessary whether hiding from soldiers, bombs or stressed in some other form. I imagine if you were to ask American kids to describe the best day, it would be dramatic, surreal, probably several highly unlikely events would occur or they would visit a place they imagine as heaven like Disneyland or a house made of chocolate. Maybe I am wrong but that is my hunch, I think before reading this book, I probably would have tried to come up with some impossible day that would be logistically, physically and/or fundamentally impossible. Maybe this is all the practice and emphasis on being creative that I received throughout my childhood and what I have experienced of adulthood.

The main character’s best day is simple. He is about seven years old on this day, before he ever left his home or was separated from his family, before he knew the meaning of war, first hand. Of course, school is cancelled for the day. I am sure this would follow suit in most cultures, even from kids who generally enjoy school. From there on, the day consists of helping his mother, leaning on his older sister as she labors through chores, fetching water for an older girl on whom he has a crush. He even imagines falling as he runs at top speed with his water can, trying to impress the girl of his affection. His best day seems so realistic. It is a day that could easily have been real. The mundane details of his dream day immediately struck me. What would the best day ever actually be like? The more I considered this, the more I think our young Sudanese friend is on the right track. I think the best day ever would be more or less like any other but where all the minor details fall into place and in your favor, or mine. I may have experienced this day.

I woke before my alarm Thursday morning which is not unusual. That I actually got out of bed before the third snooze is a minor miracle. I caught the free bus to the high school, another great feat for me. I miss this bus almost everyday and therefore pay for the public bus which passes through town about 10 minutes later and drops me off on the side of the highway, about a 10 minute walk from the school. I spent the entire school day giving an HIV/AIDS prevention workshop to eleventh graders, including a condom demonstration. Before coming here, I could not have imagined talking to high schoolers about sex ed, abstinence, condoms, etc but I have found that it is one of my favorite projects here. I feel I am giving kids the capacity to make more informed decisions, hopefully empowering the girls to make their own decisions and postpone a few from having their first child before graduating from high school. Of course I will never know the exact impact of these talks, but at least the information is now available to them.

Following the HIV talk, I headed to Tegus for physical therapy. While waiting for a bus to pass, the challenging mayoral candidate offered me a ride. It definitely beat sitting on an old school bus for an hour and a half. Physical therapy is always great. I cannot complain about electric stim with heat, ultrasound and a massage, followed by what I have dubbed “el crecedor” or the growing machine. I am strapped on a table which separates to stretch my lower back. Supposedly it will add a centimeter or two to my height. No complaints here! From PT, I headed to the office to check email and say good bye to a few volunteers finishing their service. I ended up receiving my second back rub of the day! Ten minutes sitting on the tile stairs of the Guadalupe II , 10 minutes I greatly appreciated. A few volunteers hung out on the patio of the Maya, enjoying the evening view of the hills around Tegus before sharing an excellent meal of carne asada and BBQed ribs with all the Honduran tipico. After dinner I somehow ended up the recipient of a double foot massage amidst the company and conversation of various PCVs whom I do not see regularly. I think it may have been the best day of my life…

…or have I been here too long? Or am I finally acclimated enough to appreciate these things? Either way, I realize more each day that it really is the little things that make the difference. The small things people do to help things fall into place, to show you they care, evidence of effort and priority.

photos: Dental Brigade in Cantarranas (those would be tooth extraction tools... this is why we brush our teeth, so the dentist doesn't need these!), Dia de la cruz, kinder kids. Yep, Bello is getting big.

I slept through a 7.1 earthquake. Although the epicenter was about 130 km off the coast of La Ceiba (on the north coast) and very near the island of Roatan, it was felt strongly throughout the country and in my area. People in my community and volunteers staying in Tegus were shocked that the quake did not wake me. What can I say, I am a hard sleeper.

Other than a giant earthquake hitting my country and knocking out a bridge on a major thoroughfare, I have been staying busy. I spent all last week in Cantarranas helping with a dental brigade. We yanked a bunch of abessed teeth, filled cavities and sealed tons of young molars on kids from 6 to about 13 years old. It was interesting spending an entire week with non-Peace Corps Americans. It is the first time in almost 2 years. Each time I talk to non PCVs, I am reminded how bad my English now is. I can't speak my own language anymore! I am sure it will come back once I am forced not to speak Spanglish but for now I will struggle each time.

In glancing at my last blog, I realized I need to learn to proof-read. Oops. : ) I guess that is just low on the priority list. Gotta run but I will try to post pictures again soon.

Sunday, I met this, the biggest cockroach I have personally killed. I was not excited when it suddenly appeared in my shower as I was trying to bathe (I mean, dumping a cold bucket over my head). Of course, it looked even bigger alive and "flying" around my shower. Not the biggest I have seen, that award goes to Edwin for killing it as he ran around the park barefoot.

I believe this is the first cockroach I have actually seen in this house. Therefore, I am telling myself it lived outside and was just trying to find it's way back out. It did actually appear to be searching for a path through the teja. Then it fell and met a new friend named Raid.

On a happier note... It rained last night! After weeks of drought it poured rain for a few hours last night, effectivly cooling the air (I got to sleep under the sheet) and greatly reducing the dust. I even got to run on my dirt road route again this morning! They are doing construction and it has just been too dusty. Therefore, I was running on the paved road past all the car workshops. It's a boring route full of unoriginal piropos. Such is life.

Despite living here for over a year and a half, some things still amaze me, or at least leave me in some state of awe.  I have realized that my opinion of Talanga, and Honduras in general is very love hate.  Although every time a Honduran askes me, "Do you like it here?" I say yes.  It is a lie.  I can't say that I "like" it.  Love-hate is more appropriate.  Most things I neither love nor hate, it is very much LOVEHATE.  When I reflect on my life here, my experiences, everything, I cannot decide whether I love it or hate it.  The list of things I will miss the most is incredibly similar to the list of things I will miss the most.  I know it sounds odd but it is just the way it is.  Somethings, no matter how long I spend here, I am not sure I would adjust to.  That is both positive and negative.  For example, I still feel a bit odd when the school day begins and ends with a prayer.  Each Monday, to commence the week's "Civic Act" the entire school prays together.  It is great that the school has the freedom to do this and there is never a threat of potential law suit but my conscious still screams,  "separation of church and state!"  I gave my English class of teachers an assignment in lesson planning.  They were to make a lesson plan and self-evaluate it (self-evaluation? what do you mean?--very foreign concept.)  One of these lesson plans, in the "methodology" section read: step 1-prayer to the devine creator.  Really?  In the methods section?  I guess I did say to include everything.

Another favorite practice here is to fill the potholes in my dirt street town with loose dirt.  This happens time and time again.  Doesn't anyone realize that filling a giant pothole with loose dirt doesn't work?  Sure, it fills the hole for today, but the first time it rains and a car drives over it, the loose dirt gets pushed out of the hole.  This effectively makes the hole even bigger since the original hole reappears and the sides grow with the newly depositted dirt.  Really?  At least there was immediate satisfaction in fixing the hole for a day.

I love that people can do things like this over and over again and no one seems to see th idiocracy in it.  I hate that the puddles come back time and time again (when it rains at least.)

I love the attention.  I hate the attention.

I love free food.  I hate having to eat everytime I visit someone, even if I am not hungry.  (I have learned to visit people away from meal times, unless of course, I need large meal that will last me the rest of the day.)

I love the sun.  I love the rain.  Until it starts raining, then I will like the rain because it cools the air and limits the dust.  I hate the rain because it means mud and I have to wash my jean more often.I hate the slow internet.  I love the legitimate excuse not to check email regularly.I love the freetime.  I hate being bored.  (On that note, suggested book: Confessions of an Economic Hit Man by John Perkins.  Very thoughtprovoking)I hate hearing "fijese que..."  I love using "fijese que..."  It is a free excuse for everything.I hate hearing "si Dios quiere," if God wills it.  Take some freaking responsibility and show up to the meeting we arranged!  Ok, that one I don't love in any way, shape or form.  It is a free ticket to not take responsibility and not to commit and I refuse to use it.  If i used it, I would probably love it.Enough ranting for today.  Here are more Colgate pictures with my kids brushing their teeth.  They LOVE having their photo taken.  Yet, getting them to look at themselves in a mirror is amazingly difficult.  We looked at our own teeth one day.  You do not want to see inside their mouths, many look painful.  Also, the market before Easter, yes, those are whole dried fish.  Very traditional.  A little girl and her chicken on my bus to Tegus.  They are called "chicken buses" for a reason.  Sunset over the Caribbean from beautiful Roatan.

Most weekends I spend at least one day playing soccer with a group of women/girls (ranging from about 13 to 31) from in and around Talanga. Supposedly, the “team” is in a league in Tegucigalpa and we were to travel there each Sunday to play (along with several other women who live in Tegus). In reality, I think I played in Tegus twice, arrived in the capital for the game to be cancelled because there wasn’t a field available and missed one game. We end up playing most games against other small communities and aldeas near us. Aside from a few decently talented (but generally unfit and/or lazy) players, the level of play is usually pretty low, like a “rec” team in the States. I continue to play for various reasons; they invite me, it is a chance to socialize with people other than teachers and students at school, it gets me out of the house on days I have no other reason to leave, it’s good exercise and one of the only opportunities to exercise with other people (I am sure I could find a young man willing to accompany me running but I generally turn down that offer.) Last time I played was one of the worst days I have recently had. Nothing especially bad happened that day but it was a day I had not planned on playing. I planned to be on the beach hanging out with my brother and sister-in-law and getting to know my nephew again. Unfortunately two of the three were sick and they had to postpone their trip. While it was the best decision for them to stay home, it was still a bummer. As I was surrounded by giggling 19 year old girls, I felt completely depressed. There is nothing like being around other people enjoying themselves to make you realize the extent of loneliness.  

Yesterday as we arrived at the field in Rio Dulce, I felt none of this. Since most of our games are in small communities, not many people go to watch and I generally don’t know anyone in the crowd. Somehow, they all seem to know at least my name by the end of the first half. I guess that is the result of being the only gringa playing and one of about 3 in the area. Rio Dulce is also an aldea of Talanga but more importantly, it is one of the communities I work in regularly. My original baseball team is there and I am currently doing dental hygiene in the school and kindergarten. We changed into our uniforms and walking onto the field, I saw several familiar faces. Baseball boys. More accurately, most of them soccer players who occasionally play baseball. It was really nice to feel I had true supporters outside the soccer team. We played against the championship team of the Tegucigalpa league. Rumor has it that they are the U18(ish) national selection. Whether this is true, I have no idea but they were hands down the best team we have played. They maintained positions, didn’t play bunchball and passed between themselves. Somehow we won 2-1, goals off a free kick and counter-attack breakaway. It was probably the best I have seen our team play and the best I have personally played since being here.

Toward the end of the first half, I heard my name called. While I generally ignore male voices yelling my name from the sidelines, I knew this one came from the baseball boys. I turned to look and I saw Juan smile and give me a thumbs up. It may have been the proudest moment of my service. I internally beamed at being praised by 11 and 12 year olds. After the game, one of the coach’s friends (aka our supporters) hollered, “How many goals did Laura miss?!” “Three.” said Richard Noe grinning, one of my baseball veterans. Great, someone was counting. And yes, they were solid opportunities I blew (Oops! That’s why I don’t play forward!)

Does pride and joy in praise from a couple of kids indicate my lack of social interaction, lack of feedback or was it feeling accepted and integrated into the community? Probably, all of the above. I will find out in the next few weeks if it has any impact on my relationship with the kids at school or success getting kids to show up to baseball practice. For now, I will revel in the thumbs up from a kid I desperately want to play baseball regularly (he is really fast and seems to have a good attitude.)

It is summer. Definitely, officially summer, or dry season. While you folks back home suffer through the unpredictable weather of early spring, rain and snow seemingly out of nowhere, here that is not the case. I envy you (at least in the middle of the day as I sweat and hide from the sun in my house, trying to avoid the heat. I like warm weather. At least when I can escape it briefly or I am on the beach and can enjoy it. Here, summer means dust and more dust and more dust. My version of air conditioning is riding my bike down hill or into the wind and hoping the breeze is slightly cooling. It doesn’t work very well since I have to turn around and come back after. I am learning the important lessons of hiding in the house with the door CLOSED in the middle of the day (to keep the heat out) and opening the door in the evening to let the breeze (if one exists) in. It is probably time to get my fan repaired again. The problem is, I don’t want to carry it to the repair guy because it is too hot outside and I don’t want to leave the house unless necessary. I have also returned to bathing at least once a day. Dumping a cold bucket over my head finally feels good. No longer like jumping in the cold lake on a moderately warm day where you take a deep breath and go for it as quickly as possible (the last few months), nor avoiding it whenever possible because it is just miserable and the power went out again so you can’t even make a cup of hot coffee or tea after. I know, I probably shouldn’t admit it, but bathing in the winter is an “only when absolutely necessary” chore. Summer is the opposite, bathe every chance you have. The problem, water can be scarce in these dry summer months. Therefore, I try to limit it to once a day, usually afternoons to cool off or evening to wash the dust off my feet, returning their natural color. It is also the season for watering the dirt, reduces the dust a bit. Just watch where you step, most people fling the run-off water (potentially raw sewage, depending on the neighborhood) out of the “gutter” onto the street. Last Thursday, I did my good dead for the day but gifting water to the neighbors. I saved the kids several trips hauling water from the river, left the contaminated water in its bed and relieved my conscience by not wasting the water to clean the pila. Do I really live here?PHOTOS:  Field trip to the river with my 3rd graders.  We loaded half the kids in the back of the teacher's pick up while the others started walking until the teacher picked them up.  Things are a bit different here.  This is one of the "cleanest" rivers in the area.  Too bad it is the same stream that first passes through Rio Dulce where the quantity of garbage and number of vehicles I have seen washed in it is disturbing.  And people bathe in it!  It was a great excuse to talk about littering and caring for the water.  Then they wrote down everything they saw.

Kinder kids in Rio Dulce brushing their teeth after snack.

Chichara on my kitchen light, also known as cicadas.  Quite possibly the most obnoxious insect ever due to their everpresent whine.  Unfortunately, they are here until the rains return.

By the way, Bello is a great mouse catcher. Apparently, while we were in La Moskitia the guy watching my house and Bello noticed an aweful smell. He found a dead mouse in Bello's bed.

Three nights ago, I let Bello out before bed. When he came back in, he would not move from the corner by the back door. Stairing at the corner, waiting. I finally moved the bricks to see a mouse run out. Bello had that sucker in about 4 seconds. Three down.

Mom and Dad took a break from their retired life in the crazy Washington February weather to visit me for the second time. We spent 9 days in La Moskitia, the northeast corner and most remote area of Honduras with two other volunteers. The trip started by catching a bus to the town of Tocoa where we got in a "paila" for the trip into la Moskitia. The paila, also known as the back of a pickup, was piled with supplies and luggage with eight people piled on top. Thankfully, Mom was given a spot in the cab. She would not have done well. We considered ourselves lucky since one of the pailas traveling with us had eleven people on top of just as much stuff.

After An hour or so of pavement and a few hours of bumpy dirt road (much like all the roads in my site) we suddenly turned off the main road, onto the beach. Honduras regularly has problems with floods, heavy rain and other damage due to storms, especially on the north coast. Last October was especially bad and many areas still have not been repaired. In our naivety, we asked if the road was washed out or damaged. "No, this is the highway," replied the ayudante. I couldn't help but laugh at the multiple times he used the word "careterra", highway. We probably drove a solid 4 hours on the beach. We were lucky and hit it at low tide. The trip back we were slightly less fortunate and the awe factor of the first time was gone. Eventually passed through a few small Garifuna villages and arrived at in Batalla to take a collectivo boat to Raista, our first destination.

Raista is a small village sandwiched between the lagoon and the ocean. Everyone who lives in Raista is part of the same family, it's that small. We relaxed for the evening, enjoyed some incredible fresh fish soup with coconut milk (from the girl who doesn't like soup or fish in Honduras) and took a community tour early in the morning. Each community tour was a combination of the town history, and nature, usually pointing out all the medicinal plants and how they play into the livelihood of the people. This one even included picking coconut and to drink the water and "work up an appetite for breakfast."

From Raista (which means "Rice Point" in Miskito), we got in our dug out canoe with its tiny motor and after crossing two large lagoons, we found ourselves in the town of Brus Laguna. Brus is one of the main towns in the La Moskitia region. With about 2,000 inhabitants, it was the biggest town we saw since driving onto the beach-highway. We stayed about 2 hours away (by boat of course) in private cabañas called Yamari along a small water way. After two solid days of sitting on hard wood, between the paila and the boats, we took advantage of some free time to swim and kayak. After dinner we piled in the boat again to search for crocodiles and caiman. We saw several and our guide almost caught one. Unfortunately, the full moon inhibited us from seeing too many and the mosquitoes (the bugs not the people) sent us home after an hour and a half or so. We ended up seeing plenty more along the shores of the Rio Platano throughout the trip.

From Yamari back to Brus Laguna, we spent 5 more hours putting along up stream until we reached Las Marias, the destination for most of the few travelers to the region. The Miskito people were nomadic until the 1990s when changes in resources, the building and necessity of schools and other factors led many families to settle in the area now called Las Marias. It is only a few hundred residents and even finding a pulperia was a bit difficult. Everything that isn't grown is brought in by boat. Needless to say, the diet mostly consists of rice, beans, platanos, coconut and fish. Of all the wonderful food, our cook/hospedaje owner in Las Marias, Doña Diana, was the best. We wandered the "town" and relaxed, visited the petroglyphs (ancient carvings in rocks up river, so old no one is sure when they were done or by whom), hiked and learned about many more medicinal plants and the plight of outsiders trying to take the hard woods such as mahogany, laurel and cedar that naturally grow through out the rainforest.

The most touching moment was accompanying our guide (a different person in each community) to the petroglyphs. Until last October, her home stood on the shore by the main petroglyph, when rainstorms causing major flooding took the entire complex with it. The entire house, hospedaje, kitchen and comedor are gone. Remnants remain of the latrine. This was her first visit to the site since October. It was difficult not to feel as though we were intruding on such a personal moment as the tears quietly streaked her face.

Next stop was more hiking, the physical part of the vacation. Between our hospedaje in Las Marias and the petroglyphs lies the trailhead for Pico Dama (Old Peak), a naked volcanic cone, the outer surface long since eroded away. So, from Las Marias, 2 hours being poled up stream in canoes by our wonderful Miskito guides, 4 hours hiking through banana fields, jungle, tropical rainforest. Crossing and re-crossing the same creek (there is a dispute about the number of creek crossings but it was more than 15, 19 at most.) Sliding up, sliding down muddy trail, stopping so our main guide could find the right size and kind of tree, chop it down with a machete, strip the bark which he then used to make a rice sack into a backpack. After stopping to see various types of birds and plants, seemingly out of nowhere we arrived at the cabaña where we spent the next two nights. We enjoyed dinner made over a campfire and went to bed early (even for us Peace Corps Volunteers.) It just feels much later in the pitch blackness of the rainforest. We played word games from our mosquito-netted bunks until we felt tired enough to sleep (still probably around 8:30 or 9pm.) The next day, we hiked about 3.5 more hours up. Hiking isn't really the right word for it; much of it was closer to tree climbing. Honduran hiking trails aren't exactly what we would call "maintained" trail in the states. In many places, it can be difficult to find the trail if you don't know where you are going. Both days up, Ofracio, our local guide and mochila-maker kept telling me, "Laura, I don't know if your parents are going to make it." A fit, 40 year old mountain man and fast walker, he was especially worried about Mom. On the way down, I couldn't help but feel proud each time he commented, "Laura, su mama tiene fuerza." My mom is strong for 63! I know it was a challenge but I am proud they both made it without any major problems, mentally or physically. We took a few pictures, headed back down to the cabin to roast the chicken vienna sausages that were given to us for snacks on the hike. I didn't eat them but the Hondurans loved them. It was nice to know they didn't go to waste. The next morning we headed back down to the river and spent one more night in Las Marias. The people around La Marias demonstrated a much closer connection to the land than in other parts of Honduras. It was a pocket of clean, garbage-free nature. The flood debris hanging from branches 20-30ft off the current water surface was natural debris, grasses, tree trunks and stumps, not the old clothes, wrappers and tires filling fences and trees in the rest of the country.

The final stop was Belen, another small town near Raista on the narrow strip of land between a lagoon and the Caribbean. We enjoyed a presentation of traditional Miskito dancing on the beach, lit by bonfire. We were invited to dance with the women to the music of a metal washboard, a turtle shell and a guitar. We rose at 3am the next morning to reverse the trip and head back to Tocoa, La Ceiba and finally Talanga. My parents spent a few more days in my site, visiting neighbors, host family and schools before flying back home.

Since their visit, I have been busy starting my final long-term projects. With only 6 months to go, any thing long term has to be started now if I want to complete it before my time is up. Crazy thought, but yes, the end of service is looming closer and closer with each week. What next....?

Below is a link to some photos from La Moskitia. Let me know if you can't access them and I will try something else.

The other two photos are of my dental hygiene program at school.

http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=274595622/a=56712873_56712873/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish

scuba Team Rock.

Marta and I with my Spanish dive instructor

We rock! Sunrise from Sandy Cay (near Utila)

You asked for pictures... here is a sample of Christmas and Marta's visit in January.

Latest Bello update: his castration healed (hence the home-made Elizabithean collar and look of defeat), he has been experiencing separation anxiety with all my absences and I just learned that he is a great mouse catcher! Yes, I had a mouse in my house! I was annoyed. I was in the shower the day I saw the mouse in the bathroom. On the other side of the wall, I heard Bello sniffing, then a squeak. When I got out of the bathroom, Bello was playing with a still breathing but stunned mouse in the back yard. He cowered like he was expecting punishment but I praised him for a great job cating the mouse. Good boy Bello!!

Pelican on our dock on Sandy Cay

First host mom and sis

Drunk grandma enjoying life

Marta's first Honduran dance lesson

Everyone taking pictures, it was quite the site

Making Nacatamales at the host fam's

Bello, immediately after front door surgery.

This year's nacimiento (manger scene)

Pin the star on the Christmas tree with my now 3rd graders

Family photo above Talanga

Same Christmas party, waiting their turn with their stars

Nacatamales for Christmas

Yep, Nacatamales, it's quite the process

Host mom

...with vacation. : ) Marta left today after 3 weeks in Honduras and almost 2 of those we ran all over the country. We did everything from scuba diving, to relaxing on a private island to conquering (and it was quite the 9.5 hour conquest) the highest peak in Honduras. We also did some other hiking, plenty of family visits, cooked some great food, both Honduran and other. I intended to fill in details but they will have to wait. I am burnt out of catching up on emails and trying to transition back into that thing called "work." The internet is also being finicky so I will have to fill in details and photos later. Soon. Miss and love you all and looking forward to my next few visitors.

Once again, Christmas is upon us and I am completely confounded by it. It just doesn't feel like Christmas. While I hear (at least parts) of Washington are experiencing the coldest temperatures in almost 20 years, I am getting sunburnt and impatiently awaiting my first scuba diving experience. Without snow, cold weather and being assulted by holiday sales, it just doesn't feel like the season is here. Although I appreciate the peace that comes from the lack of advertisements (not that they don't exist here, I am just isolated from them, no tengo TV), I miss seeing streets of houses lit up with little white lights and Christmas trees poking through windows. Many people here have Christmas trees but due to serious deforestation issues, most of them are artificial. Inside some houses it does feel a bit festive but since many people keep their doors, curtains and shutters closed preventing me catching a glimpse of their "arboles navideños". There are periodic decorative encounters that make me laugh. For example, the giant inflatable snowman hanging from a second story window (multiple stories in and of themselves are quite uncommon). The enourmous Frosty lasted about a day before losing all its air and hanging limply. Here, instead of hanging lights the common activity is to paint your house. I am amazed how frequently people change the colors, inside and out. My neighbors house is change from green bricks to yellow, the mortar is still white.

To bring a little American tradition to Honduras, I decided to make paper snowflakes with my summer school kids. I agreed to teach English to a group of 2nd-going-on-3rd graders during vacation. We skipped the English yesterday to make Christmas cards and snowflakes. Even though they can't imagine real snow, they loved cutting up paper to make pretty designs. Tuesday we are having a party. That means I have to come up with Christmas activities and make gingerbread cookies. Although I am not a huge gingerbread fan, it's too traditional to pass up. (And I don't want to buy food coloring and put the time into red and green frosted sugar cookies. The more intricate types, the ones I like, either would not be appreciated or ingredients are too hard to find.) As for actual Christmas, I plan to dine at midnight (as is tradition) with my host family on the 24th and fulfill my family tradition by making Danish pastries for breakfast with them on the 25th. Really, it's all just keeping myself busy until I can meet Marta at the airport on the 26th. Thing I love: the ridiculously popular trend of drivers putting the seatbelt over one arm or across their lap but not buckling it. Occassionaly, this is due to broken seatbelts but the majority of the time, that does not seem to be the case. They police enforce the lax seatbelt law from time to time but most people don't want to wear them.

Thing I hate: cuetes (firecrackers), still.

photos: girls in my English class making snowflakes and christmas cards, 6th graders performing at graduation, and my favorite sign in Talanga, a paper on the side of a house stating, "for sale information"; I think they mean the house is for sale but it's still funny (and it's been there as long as I have). Also, a few from the waterfall near Lake Yojoa.

I left the "cave" and am officially in my new house! I moved almost an entire block. I am actually so close that it was easier to move my bed and table (my only furniture, still) by hand rather than load it in a truck. Actually, I recruited a couple of boys to do it for me since those things are bit awkward for one person. I am really excited about the move despite giving up several wonderful things in the old house. Of course, "wonderful" is a relative term. Here is the low down:

I Gave up... fruit trees (mangos, limes, oranges, I don't miss the nances and if you don't know what they are you aren't missing anything. I think the smell like vomit yet Hondurans love them.)"tanque": aka running water in the bathroomA land lady who would feed Bello if I left town for the night or a few and he didn't have to go anywhere and had 2 other dogs to play with in the shared backyard.A porch in which my hammock hung.An extremely awkward floorplan where you had to pass through the bedroom to go from the living room to the kitchen.A nice bathroom but it was outside.Built in closet/shelf thing.Wood panneled ceiling which insulated but added to the darkness.Virtually ZERO natrual light. I now have... 0 trees or desireable plants, just a few weeds.to bucket shower and bucket-flush the toilet. Except Monday and Friday mornings when water comes, usually.My OWN space! I'm still on good terms with the old landlady so Bello can go visit. We now don't have untrained dogs interferring with our "rigorous training schedule" (or something like that).No porch, just a slightly more central locale with MUCH more traffic (mostly foot, cow and horse, still a few pigs.)Great floor plan that feels more like a normal home.Bathroom inside! Although, privacy is limited since the "door" between the living room and bedroom is a curtain and the bathroom door (to the bedroom) is glass, clear glass! Good thing I live alone.Wonderful neighbors who starting looking after me from day one. One of them even mopped the house for me before I moved in!No where to put my clothes. As a result, I am completely unmotivated to unpack and am once again living out of a suitcase.A metal roof which will NOT be plesant once dry season hits.An eleven year old neighbor girl who likes to just come hang out and tell me how nice the house is.NATURAL light!!!! I definitely prefer waking up to the light and dog than the old landlady's birds sqwaking. I definitely miss a few things (a flushing toilet and cold shower) but am extremely pleased with the move. It is also good motivation to take Bello for walks/runs since he no longer has a lap dog to play with. It was like a stuffed animal that plays back. Thanksgiving was good and I think it will continue to be. Instead of not celebrating, I am doing it twice. The Passionist volunteers, their boss and her husband, another PCV and I had a traditional turkey dinner last night and enjoyed some family games and speaking English. Saturday, I plan to celebrate again in Siguatepeque with some other PCVs and some bilingual school teachers. Thanksgiving day was good, despite not spending it with family. Playing "pass the phone" definitely helped as I was able to speak to several family members and was filled in on the goings-on. It's always hard spending holidays away from the family. It's never quite the same but as with all of life, we make do with what we have. Work wise, I am still working on my world map kids and starting a few youth groups. School is out for the year so I am trying to stay busy during the vacation and am enjoying working with the girls who want to show up. I am posting a picture of WorldMap girls but every time I start working and forget to take pictures. Baseball continues with both teams. It is frustrating having a different group of kids every week and that increases the challenge to make progress. There is a small core group of kids who come almost every week but a large portion varies greatly. While consistency and progress can be difficult, it is wonderful being able to reach more kids and offer them something new. If they like it, they will come back.

Speaking of baseball, if anyone has a few old gloves they would like to donate, my sister is coming to visit just after Christmas (I am volunteering you, Marta) and equipment is always appreciated. While my team has enough equipment, Peace Corps is trying to start as many teams as possible and many of the other teams only have 9-11 gloves, or fewer for their entire group. Just let me know and we will get them distributed to expand the project.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Growing up on a faltline in the Northwest, I clearly remember earthquake drills and learning about the safest places in the case of an earthquake. If you cannot get outside, away from buildings or other tall objects, a doorjamb is supposed to be one of the sturdiest places. Wednesday night, I discovered that doorjambs also serve as a suitable shelter from firework shells.

The past week Talanga has been celebrating the town’s patron saint San Diego. Wednesday was the big night including mass and a fireworks show! Although firecrackers are extremely popular, (especially between the hours of 4:00 and 5:00am) fireworks, you know, with pretty colors, are not common. I have now seen them twice in my 16 months in this country; last time was for Independence Day during training. My first Honduran firework experience was one of shock and awe. Not because of the number of fireworks, or how big they were but because of the proximity. Explosives were set up in the street between the Catholic church and the cancha (cement court) in Parque Central. The distance between the two is the width of a two lane street, without a shoulder. The entire town crowded to the edge of the street. The fireworks literally went off above our heads. Until this second show, I forgot about the one thing that made people back up a bit. The first firework finally went up in Talanga, “Oooh!” Expression of awe and beauty from the crowd. Immediately followed by, “Ooh!” Expression of surprise and fear as a shell landed within two feet of me. My three host siblings and I took quick cover in the only thing available, a closed doorway. The house we stood against didn't even have overhanging eves. The four of us hudled close for shelter as we watched the lights in the sky and the shells falling in front of us, some still attached to 2-3 foot sticks. Needless to say, safety standards here just wouldn't hold up in the States. Sometimes, this can be appreciated, even enjoyed (think climbing ridiculously steep stairs/ladders to un obstructed views at the top of Mayan ruins). The utter lack of people waiting to file a law suit is beautiful. At the same time, I don't dare climb aboard a carnival ride here. Well, I may consider a man powered ferris wheel as Kyler did. Seriously, man-powered, as in, a guy reaching up and pulling the rungs to make it move. Oh, I love Honduras.

Other than ferria, I have been BUSY! hooray! I am working on a World Map project with 6th graders. We spent all week painting the wall and drawing the world on it. We are almost done and should start painting the countries tomorrow. This project has provided an excellent opportunity to get to know the kids a little better and I am having fun but it is extremely frustrating as well. Most of the frustration is my fault and I am now motivated to do the project again with a different group of skills so I can put my hindsight to use. First, never try to draw a grid on an uneven brick wall, especially with sixth graders who are unfamiliar with the process. Second, check their work constantly. It looks like the get it, and are doing well, only to find out after a good start, they proceeded to cram three squares worth of map into one, TWICE! Also, work in small blocks of time with small groups of kids. Their attention goes so quickly. In the end, I did a lot more of the work than I would have liked. Now I know.Photos include the frequent siting of cattle herding down the highway, my 6th grade world map kids working away, the same kids playing in the school yard (they have no toys so a few abandonded 4x4s became teeter-totters) and photos from the Copan to Cabañas (Rachel's site) hike. That was a great time and it was good to see friends again. I will try to update more frequently but my communication skills have been lacking lately. PS: I HAVE A REFRIGERATOR! I know, that sounds strange but yes, I have been living with out one for the last year and bring a little baby one home today. I finally caved.

Looks like it has been awhile...

It was pointed out to me that from my blog, it appears I travel a lot. That isn't really true, it's just the most interesting things to write about. That is probably a major reason I have not updated the blog recently, I haven't been out and about much.

Work wise, things have been hit and miss, as always. I just finished a teamwork and creative thinking project with 5th graders at one of my schools. Once a week I met with the class to do different activities teaching them how to work in groups, share ideas and have fun. We started with the "human knot" and failed miserably. We had 6 teams of 6 and not a single group was even close to figuring it out. After several minutes of trying to explain, demonstrate and attempt, they were still trying to pull against each other. I tried hinting that some people may need to turn around. They all turned around and twisted themselves even more! I let them try several times and decided to use it as a pre/post test. At the sixth and final session, every group figured it out! I was so proud to see the improvement. It is a little thing, but a big step. Any task outside the norm can be very difficult. The norm is copy and memorize. I did none of that. During the 6 sessions we had a longest object competition, made "Puff mobils" (a vehicle powered by a group member blowing on the object), made skits utilizing props, amoung other things. The kids really seemed to enjoy it and were even prepared after holidays and another teacher strike postponed our fifth session for 2 weeks! I am starting a "world map" project with 6th graders at another school as well. We have only had a few preporatory session so far. I am leaning how little they know about geography and they are learning how to enlarge a map using a grid. Final exams start in a few weeks and I hope to work with the kids who don't fail their exams and paint a giant world map on the side of the school while the kids who did fail their exams are in review session and retakes. Ojala we can get it all done before school is officially out.

I am still trying to implenent a water filter project to distribute water filters throughout the homes of the aldea where these two schools are. It hasn't been going anywhere. In addition to teachers striking, the nurses have their own fight. That means the small health center I am trying to work with was closed for almost 3 weeks. I am also having trouble getting word out that these filters are available and cheap. I wanted to work with the community to find ways of fundraising but the response I received was not positive, "but Laura, people in this community don't want to work." If people don't want to work, how am I supposed to help? This is a constant battle for all of us. There are people who work but in many communities, the people who are willing to work hard for things, volunteer and put forth time and effort are already involved in so much they have no time for anything else. I don't think this is a trait unique to Honduras or even developing communities but it's still frustrating.

After having 17 PC trainees in my site for 5 weeks, I did take a short vacation to the beach town of Tela. When I say short, I mean I had a day and a half at the beach. Like a weekend, if I remember what those are like. My schedule is so erratic it's hard to envision a 9-5, Monday through Friday type schedule. Tela was great, the beach was beautiful and I took a whole 2 pictures. It was just nice to vacation for a few days and see my good friend Rachel.

I will try to update this a little more frequently but the laptop broke again and I get flustered and stressed out in the internet cafes just trying to check my email.

Pictures: Tela (2); Teamwork kids preparing "Vuelo de los Huevos": Flight of the Eggs; Teams after their egg survived being dropped from about 12 feet; Dia del Nino: Kids, teachers putting on skits, etc.

So we all know that strange rumors fly around medical issues. I heard two this week… The first was from my host sister. I help her study English a few times a week, whenever I have time in the afternoon/evening. She could not come to my house to study one day. No big deal. The next day, I went to her house. She informed me that she could not come over because she had cramps. (About once a month she doesn’t come because she is sick due to menstruation. Side note: menstruation is a fairly regular excuse for women to not show up to various things like studying or soccer games.) This time, she had gone to the doctor and was told that since her stomach cramps feel worse after she drinks hot or cold beverages, she should therefore not bathe for 2 days. What?! What the hell does bathing have to do with it? I have enough confianza with her to tell her that I think it is ridiculous and that I don’t see the connection between her menstrual pain and bathing. She couldn’t explain the connection.

Numero dos: I heard about soap cancer from the Passionists but yesterday, in the back of a pick-up on our way home from a soccer tournament, I heard a local guy talking to one of the players about it being “malo” to bathe with soap after exercise. Another guy chimed in and asked if it was due to chemicals because your pores are open from sweating (the closest thing to a pliable explanation I have heard) but everyone just said “no” or “I don’t know why, it’s just bad”. Apparently, it is ok to bathe with water after you exercise but don’t use soap! It will give you soap cancer and is bad! I have been doing that my life so if I suddenly get sick with soap cancer you will know why. When you hear things like this, what do you say? If it is someone I know well, I will tell them that I don’t believe it and try to explain why some claims are unrealistic. But when I am surrounded by people I don’t know that well, how do you tell them something they believe seems ridiculous to me and that I don’t believe it? The best I have found is to show subtly that I don’t believe it but try not to negate them. Some outlandish beliefs very well may be true but some, I just don’t see the logic. I have also been told not to bathe when you have a fever. I did it anyway. When I talked to the doctor, the first thing she told me to do was shower. When is it bad to bathe? I can’t think of a situation where you shouldn’t bathe for health reasons but if you can, let me know. I guess taking a freezing cold shower if the weather were cold and you are sick may not be the most comfortable thing but you can always heat a bucket of water.

Oh, yes, I found a women’s soccer team to play with on Sundays. The “team” has an interesting dynamic. I am appreciative of the chance to play and the experience is great for my self-esteem. It can be a little frustrating seeing 5 people from the same team within 5 feet of the ball but I see it as a great opportunity for a little exercise and a way to get to know some women (even though the majority of them are under 18).

Photos: I took another trip to La Tigra with Lauren, one of the new Passionists.  It is always nice to get out in unspoiled nature.

The last group of Passionist volunteers are gone, leaving room for a new group to settle in to life in Talanga and the next group of PC youth development volunteers getting to know life in Talanga for the next few weeks as they continue the “Field Based Training” portion of their training. While it is great having new people around and the opportunity to drop in on training sessions whenever I have free time, all these gringos are proving to be a challenge to my Spanish. I have been speaking so much English; it is sometimes difficult to spit the words out in Spanish. I catch myself interjecting English words in the middle of sentences with Hondurans. I guess that is the price I pay for socialization with my fellow countrymen.

Aside from feeling tongue-tied, things are going really well. I am finally experiencing the busyness I anticipated for months. This isn’t even “PC Honduras busyness” but real, legitimate—I have something to do all day everyday—busyness. It’s great, I love it! I showed up at the colegio Wednesday, prepared for a self-esteem talk which I was invited to give on Tuesday. The administrators informed me that the students to whom I gave the HIV workshop to a month or two ago, were giving the talk to other students! I was so excited that the plan was being actualized but annoyed at the administrators for not telling me ahead of time. I requested 3 days to work with the students, prep time the first day and two days to give the charla. I also told them 6 people was the maximum number of people per group to give the talk. The kids didn’t get prep time at school, just one night to prepare, broken into 2 groups of about 16 (yes, 16 people GIVING one talk, a bit ridiculous but whatever). Wednesday they gave day two of the talk. I just wish I could have been there for both days. As I ran back and forth between the two classes, one group really impressed me. They were so prepared with visual charla papers and condom-balloons, each containing a question for an activity! They other group did alright as well but spent most of the time I observed reading off individual papers. They didn’t seem to have the other students’ full attention but they did include a few activities (activities are NOT in the normal teaching method here). After the talks, I met with the kids who gave the charlas. The purpose was to do a little self-evaluation, find out how they felt about giving the talks to other kids and see how we can improve the session. I don’t know why I expected this plan to be lucrative. We sat in a circle as the rain poured on the tin roof of a classroom. “Which part of your charla was most successful, what did you feel worked the best?” Response, “All of it. The activities went well but all of it was good.” Ok… “Which parts were difficult?.... Which were the worst parts or what challenges did you have?” Response, “None of it, it all went well.” “How can we improve this?” Response, “No, it’s all good.” SERIOUSLY?! I asked a few other questions and tried to re-word things but was unsuccessful at any constructive feedback. I even asked how many of them were truly interested in the information and how many did it because they had to. Not a single person admitted to doing it because it was required. Maybe they are just nice, maybe they are full of shit. I think they are so accustomed to giving the right answer and agreeing with everything that they no longer consider the possibility of disagreeing. Sad reality: creative thinking (including forming individual opinions) is not a widely encouraged or taught skill here. Despite my feedback challenges, I am ecstatic that the kids gave the HIV prevention info to their younger counterparts.

Also moving forward, my water filter project! We are still at early stages in the process but a filter sits in the Centro de Salud in La Ermita (one of the aldeas where I work in the schools and the colegio) as an example of the filter anyone in the community could have in their house. I no longer buy 5 gallon jugs of purified water but add pila water (the supposedly potable-bacteria-filled water that comes through the tap outside into a concrete holding tank: a pila) to my clay and colloid silver filter. They first few batches tasted like clay but that issue is resolving itself. The plan is to leave the example filter in the health center for a few weeks then start taking orders… we’ll see.

Thursday, I spent almost the entire school day mixing soil and creating a raised bed with 2nd and 6th graders (two separate beds) at one of my schools. Friday we planted basil (that is what I had on hand) and flowers in each bed and talked about composting, replacing nutrients and not littering (an issue I think I raise everyday at the schools). Most of it they will probably forget or didn’t listen to but hopefully something will stay with a few of them. If nothing else, it was a good morning of manual labor side-by-side with young Honduran kids.

Changing gears… I have been getting up early to run with one of the new Passionist volunteers. I rose just after 5 one morning and as I stumbled to put my contacts in and clean the pila (water only comes twice a week). I moved my cleaning brush to find a huge tarantula hanging out on the back ledge of the pila. I don’t like spiders, especially big, hairy ones. I went to the bathroom as I considered my options. I am afraid to kill the big ones because it’s creepy and I don’t want to clean up the mess afterwards. When I returned a few minutes later, the spider was inside the pila, towards the top of the concrete side. I walked away again, still considering my options. When I looked again, the beast had moved to the waters’ edge. Still unsure of what to do with it, I decided to start the cleaning process as normal: I dumped detergent and bleach in the water. The next thing I know, the tarantula is IN the water. It was still, then swam… sort of. It did this dead-man float, sink, swim to the top routine a few times. It finally moved far enough from the drain that I was willing to brave it. I reached in and pulled the drain on the pila. My biggest fear was that the spider would stick in the drain and I would have to pull it out in order to re-plug the drain and fill the pila. Luckily, that didn’t happen. Since the tarantula was curled up in a ball, I assumed it was dead and cleaned around it. I went for my run. When I came back, the water was on and when I dumped clean water on it, it ran to the front corner of the pila (still on the bottom). How was this thing not dead? I watched it for a few minutes, it must have been a reflex, the thing looked pretty dead. Maybe this is gross, but I re-plugged the drain and let the pila fill enough for me to scoop the spider out in the bowl with some water. I then threw the seemingly dead spider in the street in front of my house for the neighborhood chickens. I didn’t know tarantulas could be suicidal but I am thankful to this spider from relieving me of the decision regarding whether to smash it and deal with the mess or find a way to get it out front for the chickens without touching it or letting it fall on the way, which by the way is through my house. Hopefully I the geckos will continue to fill that niche in the food-chain and I won’t have to deal with anymore giant arachnids. Just to note, I consider it my fault I found it because the day before, the new Passionists found a similar tarantula in their house and I mentioned that I had only seen one large spider in or near my house here. The first one, my landlady’s son picked it up on a stick and fed it to the chickens so I didn’t actually have to deal with it.

Photos: Last night with my first group of Passionists. The new group is fun but I still miss the others. They will always be my first. (If I finish out my service, the next group will arrive a few months before I leave.) Volcan San Cristobal; the Cathedral in Leon, Nicaragua; The cross above Talanga; and some Baseball pics.  They wouldn't move, I will try to fix that another day

My font porch can be a “dangerous” place. As I lay in my hammock on in my enclosed porch, the dog napping on and off, head resting at the gate, two evangelists approached. Both older Honduran men, not Bello’s favorite populations in general. People can and should have their own faith but I prefer not to be preached at in my own home. When the Mormon missionaries passed by several months ago, I also happened to be reading on my porch. The porch can be a dangerous place because I am exposed. I cannot pretend to be busy or not home as I lie with a book in a hammock in plain site. Bello to the rescue. As the men approached, one wearing a “Jesucristo vive” (Jesus Christ lives) shirt, zipper-cased Bible in hand, he gave them a few seconds as we both surveyed the men. They stopped within inches of the gate, obviously a little unsure of themselves. Whether this uncertainty was a result of the dog or due to their own convictions, I do not know. Bello gave a growl, then let out a full round of barking. The man in the Jesuscrito shirt tried to talk through the barking. I didn’t hear a thing other than “las palabras”, “the words”. Bello tends to get excited when dogs, pigs and some people pass the house. Although I don’t normally like when he jumps up, paws on the sill, to bark out the bar windows, in this case, I tried to hide my smile. He put his paws on the sill and barked, face-to-face with the other man. (Hondurans in general are not tall people and there is a single step up to the porch.) As the hair on the back of Bello’s back stood on end and he growled off anything but a welcome, I eased out the, “this isn’t a good time” excuse as I watched my baby.

Normally, I don’t really like his “bravo,” as it is called here. I don’t appreciate when he randomly lunges or barks at an innocent passerby as I walk him on his leash. Instances like this, I can’t help but appreciate it. Who Bello reacts negatively towards is sometimes unpredictable but a few traits tend to set him off: 1 Bolos (drunks). 2 People who are obviously afraid of him. 3 Frequently, people on bikes, I am not sure why, 4. The others are mostly men, though not always. I think he is a pretty good judge of character although once in awhile he reacts to people to whom he didn’t just a few minutes previously. I will never full understand it but sometimes I appreciate my personal “vigilante”. I love that he barks at bolos and “me cuide.”

Side note: the tick situation is improving though not completely resolved.

Completely unrelated...

One strange reality of living in another culture and living in another language is trying to express your personality. At least for me, it isn’t the same. Maybe it is the language, maybe it is the culture, maybe it is the rest of the situation and my role in my community. I don’t feel like I am the same person in Spanish as I am in English. Partially, it is difficult to pop off random comments in another language. Also, many things don’t translate. When around other Americans, you can translate things directly and often they pick up on the intention. For example, at one point I said “si solamente,” translated directly means “if only” but I am pretty sure that doesn’t work quite right in Spanish. I said it in the presence of other Peace Corps volunteers, at least one of whom caught my meaning immediately and laughed at the direct translation (which was the point). Months ago, I mentioned to one of my sisters that I don’t feel like I portray the same personality in my community. She told me that probably wasn’t the case but I think it might be true. My evidence, is that I was told by one of the younger colegio teachers that he initially thought me to be “enojada” which means serious. Maybe I don’t see myself as others do, but serious is probably one of the last words I would use to describe myself. Luckily, I think that impression has worn off and was mostly a result of my lack of ability to speak and not knowing what the hell I was doing the first few months in site.

Another incident occurred a few weeks after the encounter with the teacher. I was hanging out at my host family’s when come high school boys stopped by to help move chairs from their house (I’m not sure why but they have TONS of plastic chairs stacked in the backyard, why they have never offered to lend me a few, I don’t know.) My host sister commented that one of the boys was very outgoing. In learning a new word, I asked if I was outgoing. The response was a pretty definitive no. I either have a skewed perspective of myself, or I portray myself differently here. Who knows, maybe I am serious and not outgoing. Anyway, random rant but you aren’t a captive audience so I am not culpable.

I just found a draft from the first of June that was never posted. I am sure I tried and the "freaking Central American internet" tweaked again and wouldn't post it. Take a look, it even has pictures!

Yea! I had visitors! The trip started out on an interesting note as I was chased by a pig, a large momma pig, at 5am as I walked through Talanga to catch the early bus and start my trip. I don’t really know if my fear of the pig is justified or not, but it was a little unnerving. The pig followed me for a good 5 minutes, from the park all the way to the market until I ran into a bolo (a drunk) who distracted it so I could continue on my journey. Thank you bolo!!

That is actually my second weird animal encounter when trying to catch the 5am bus out of town. The other was a weird swarm of giant insects near each light post. It was straight out of a Stephen King book/movie. When I say giant, I mean LARGE, they were each about 3-4 inches long. If you have seen esperanza bugs, they were about that size, but flew and thousands of them. Creepy.

Even though my fear of running from the pig resulted in me missing the first bus (I saw it driving down the road), the next left at 5:30 so I still got an early start. By the time I reached Tegus, walked a few blocks to the other bus station, grabbed some baleadas from a street vendor on the way, a bus for La Ceiba was ready to go. Perfect timing! You can’t understand how wonderful good bus timing is unless you have done a significant amount of traveling in a 3rd world country. You never know when busses will arrive or depart, regardless of whether a schedule is posted on the wall (they are usually inaccurate). Despite my fears of the bus breaking down causing me to miss the afternoon ferry to Roatan, the trip was flawless and I made it to the pier with enough time to do a little reading before Melissa and Nerissa arrived.

We finally made it to Roatan and found a place to stay. I don’t really have much to say about Roatan except that the beach really is a beautiful as the pictures. Other than the prices (comparable to normal US prices), which were mind boggling for someone living on about $200 dollars a month and accustomed to paying 14 Lempiras for a couple baleadas when I eat outside my house (less than a dollar), the island was great. Of course there were tons of travelers and people from all over the world working in the various restaurants and dive shops. The food was excellent and variety fit for a world-renown destination.

While on the island, I had my first snorkeling experience. I know, weird, but I have never been to a tropical island and you can’t exactly see much in the frigid waters of the Washington Pacific. The first time, we went from the shore. I enjoyed seeing the bright-colored fish but the experience overall was mediocre. The reef was so shallow that you could only swim in certain paths and couldn’t come up for a break to look into the sky or along the top of the water because would be standing on the reef (causes damage and is prohibited). I am not generally claustrophobic but felt a little of that anxiety as I tried to avoid scraping my knees on the reef. The next day, we went from a boat. I full enjoyed this until my snorkel started filling with water (no idea what was going on). Melissa and Nerissa both had previous snorkeling experience but seemed impressed as they had never been so close to the reef in Hawaii or off the coast of Mexico (although they saw bigger fish in other places.) We had free range to swim where we liked but spent most of the time near the edge of the reef where it dropped off to the depths. Most of the fish congregated near the edge so we could watch them school and dart. I didn’t find Nemo, but Dory has several siblings. I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed my first Caribbean Island vacation.

After a short time in paradise, it was a full day’s journey back to the “real world”. I know, I don’t really live in the real world but I did have projects waiting for me. It was nice to return to Peace-Corps-budget-affordable prices and an excited puppy. It was not so nice to find him infested with ticks! Again! Even after a tick-icde bath and three hours of tweezing them off they still aren’t gone!! Fighting ticks is a battle I will continue to fight for the next year. At the moment, I think I am losing but the tides will turn.

Melissa and Nerissa saw my site for a brief morning before hopping a flight to Costa Rica. It was fun showing them my house and one of the schools, where I live, even though they didn’t see much and the visit was short. As for me, it was back to cancelled meetings and HIV charlas. The teachers have been striking about 2 days a week for the last several weeks. That is just one of those issues I have to deal with here. It is annoying but I can’t change it so I reschedule things at the last minute and sometimes have unexpected free mornings. That is just the way it goes.

A few years ago, I may have ventured to Canada for a weekend outing. These days, I head to Nicaragua. It was a long trip but a few hours at a beautiful, almost unoccupied beach for some body surfing (at which I am inept, always swallow ridiculous amounts of the Pacific causing my throat and nose to burn from the salt) and a day hike up Cerro Negro was well worth the trip. Our timing maybe impeccable considering the volcano San Cristobal (near Chinandega) is predicted to erupt next week. We could see the smoke billowing from the top. The volcano was a pretty incredible sight, the smoke causing a clouded sky and a little protection from the strong sun.

I was amazed at how much the Nicaraguan terrain varies from the now familiar Honduran geography. Other parts of Nicaragua may be different, but the area near Leon consists of fairly flat lowlands, marked by dramatic volcanic peaks (both active and dormant). In Honduras you see mountain upon mountain, valley, mountain, more mountain. Like Honduras this time of year, Nicaragua was green and beautiful. In fact, the countryside was surprisingly green considering how low water level seemed to be in the rivers and streams. Nevertheless, a beautiful country and from the little bit I saw, I plan to return and highly recommend it.

Leon appears to have quite a bit to offer visitors. As I mentioned, there is a beautiful beach about 45 minutes from town, the largest cathedral in Central America and plenty of restaurants, hostels and tour agencies leading various expeditions to the surrounding volcanoes. The hike up Cerro Negro was the purpose of our visit, or rather, the trip down. The hike up Nicaragua’s youngest volcano (about 150 years old) took less than an hour, packing wood boards, beautiful orange jumpsuits and goggles. When we reached the top, we dropped our boards and ventured a little further to peer directly into the upper crater. You could smell the sulfur and see where it mixed with the graphite, calcium and basalt to form the mountain. Since this is an active volcano, if you scratch away the surface, the sediment is hot to the touch; an incredible reality after those geo-science classes in college. You know you are a nerd when you consider collecting sediment samples to bring back to geo professors back home. I probably would have done it had a container been available. That, and I suppose it may get lost in the next 14 months or so.

Suit up in orange and welcome to Volcanoboarding 101. I admit, I was slightly disappointed when I discovered we would sit on the board and sled down since I anticipated standing, as if snowboarding, but it still proved to be a good time. Yes, we packed wooden boards up the mountain so we could ride them down. In all, we were a group of about 20 and headed down the mountain on 2 tracks. The girls went first so we could watch the boys crash and burn from the bottom, a much better view since you cannot actually see the bottom of the volcano from where we were “pushed off” the mountain. That is not to say that the girls didn’t crash as well (I definitely did), but the boys tend to go faster and therefore, had some impressive wrecks towards the bottom. Faces covered in black dust and pebbles in places they shouldn’t be, we headed back to the hostel for free mojitos. Since we only had a few days, we hoped a bus to start the long trip back to Honduras. Nope, no shower first, we settles right in a busito with all the Nicaraguans, covered in dust and a little blood. Good times.

This week I am taking my first trip to the Bay Islands before diving head first into training and FBT with the next group of Youth Development volunteers. Hopefully I will come back with some good stories and even better pictures. Mel and Ner: Bienvenidos a Honduras!

photos: Beach near León; Cathedral in León; Cerro Negro, mid climb; Guys Volcanoboarding (yes that cloud of dust on the left is a person and the dots to the right in the of the hill are also people); Matt and I from the top of Cerro Negro, the smoking mountain in the upper left corner is San Cristobal.

Baseball clinic in Talanga (new kids); National tournament with my Rio Dulce kids; Tegus side of La Tigra...

They are out of order because they won't move!  I will fix them later but for now, you should do fine assuming what is what.

I love it! I am BUSY! They say it takes most PCVs about a year to figure out their role in their community and to really get involved in any projects. I don’t think any of us truly believe or believe that we will pass the first year twiddling our thumbs looking for things that make us feel useful. From my experience, it is very true. A year seems like a long time and seems a little ridiculous to spend doing piddly little projects to fill the hours, days and months until we find something we A.) feel is worthwhile and B.) can get people in the community to actually do. Verbal support is over abundant, turning words into action is a true challenge.

The schools and other organizations would allow me to give charlas (talks, or lectures) on any and all subjects until my voice was gone and I could no longer stand. I however, am not a huge fan of independent charlas. Sure, you can give useful little talks to various groups and it can be useful, but it seems like a bit of a waste and I generally assume that a very low percentage of the information is actually learned. I like to call them “Hmm, interesting” talks because that is what I usually think. “Well, that was interesting. What is next on the agenda?” The thought process moves on as quickly as the recipients leave the room, maybe faster.

So yes, I have been busy (big cheers). I have learned that boredom is stressful. I don’t like it much. The last few weeks have been anything but boring, therefore, less stressful. Ok, maybe some days have been slightly stressful from trying to get everything accomplished while dealing with Honduran transportation and scheduling (these can involve a lot of waiting). For me, this is a more positive kind of stress, it’s great. Last week, I spent three mornings in an HIV/AIDS prevention workshop with Bachillarato II kids (about 11th grade) in the colegio. I am very thankful that one of the Passionist volunteers is also interested in HIV/AIDS prevention. She actually did a significant amount of research for it during college. It would have been a very rough week dealing with 40 16-18 year olds on my own but with two of us it was much more manageable. They even improved from their pre-test to post-test! The colegio director (aka principal) asked me to come back Friday to give a mini talk to the parents. Schools are supposed to work with parenting classes in different areas. Since attendance is such a struggle here, they tend to take advantage of a captive audience to give all kinds of information. The parents had to come to pick of their kids’ grades. I tried to keep the charla as short as possible with over 100 parents (not very responsive or dynamic as a group) but it was difficult since there is so much information that is so important. It is difficult to lecture adults on complicated information when the majority of them probably never received the basics. (Example: the high schoolers barely knew what the immune system was. The majority of the parents did not complete high school, many probably didn’t finish 6th grade.) How do you talk about a virus that attacks the immune system to people who may not know the basic function of the immune system? Now how do you keep from over explaining and talking for hours? Yeah, it’s a challenge.

So, 4 days of HIV, 2 teacher observations for my Teaching English and Methodology class and more host family/facility/organization searching for FBT. (I think I mentionedthat field based training for the next group of youthies will be in Talanga.)

In addition to FBT development and all the education stuff, we (Mateo y yo) are trying to start another baseball team. The current team is in an aldea, we are trying to start another, or others, in the casco urbano, the main part of town. After 2 days of a 3 day camp we had 85 kids interested, plus probably a few more whose information we didn’t get. Thanks again to my Passionist buddies. Matt and Tyler have been a huge help with Matt taking the lead with this camp. Unfortunately, they are at the end of their year of service. I can only hope to find some reliable, interested Hondurans to help, and maybe one or two of the next Passionist volunteer group.

HIV, Baseball, FBT, TEAM, and I still made it to Tegus to visit with Kyler and run a few errands.

Other recent events: I saw Ally and Jeni as they visited my part of the world. They got caught in a storm in Nicaragua and lost about two days so our visit was short but it was really good to see them. Melissa and Nerissa come next, hopefully we get to spend a little more time together. I can’t wait!

The computer is back (again)! It is old but was free so I will take it when it is functioning. I actually have a possessed mouse right now but sometimes it functions. I am just grateful for the chances I have to work and write from home. Therefore, if it keeps working, you should get more updates, if it fizzes out on me again, they will likely continue to be few and far between. I do what I can.

Answer to the popular question of the moment: It is crazy that I have been here for almost a year, yet I still have about a year and 3 months to go. The feeling is shifting from feeling like I just got here and will be here forever still to needed to get things started so I can finish them before my time runs out. Yes, I feel like my time is going to run out. Mostly, because I know things will finally start coming together so that I am rushing to finish projects before leaving. That isn’t even considering my tendency to procrastinate! (Uh Oh!) Don’t worry, I will be home before you know it. Just no more weddings, I feel like I am missing all of them and everyone will be married and having kids by the time I get there! Can’t a few of you wait? JK

PHOTOS: I will add soon, I don't have them with me at the moment.

4 days spent with 8-12 year olds2 days of baseball3 games coached1 game played4 missing gloves2 missing balls0 missing children

That's right, I am just concluding the most exhausting weekend of the last 11 months. My kids started out a little nervous. The 12 year olds, who went to the tournament last year didn't want a repeat. Instead of losing the first (and only) two games, we won both! After almost 2 hours of rain delay, thanks to a tropical storm from the Pacific, the under-estimated team fromTalanga beat the highly anticipated Siguatepeque in a close 1-0 game. The first batter of the game made it home, the rest was defense. It was intense. I don't know if I can handle much more of this coaching stuff. It is so stressful! : ) We took Copan Ruinas 4-2 in a very wet and rainy afternoon game 2 for both teams. The two wins put us into the semi-final against Morolica on the following morning. They were huge, catcher throwing signs... we were trounced (about 15-2 but they may have had more runs than that, honestly, I don't pay much attention to the score).

The kids were bummed (I think they were dominated by Morolica last year as well,) but a trip to Chiminike, the children's museum, cheered them up quickly. As we waited for the final game to start, some of the coaches and tournament officials played our own game. A short fence was set up in the outfield for the kids so we hit slow-pitched softballs with kids' metal baseball bats and ran a full 90 feet to the bases. It was interesting and some much needed physical exercise after all the rain and coaching. I am very proud of my kids but a little relieved the tournament is over.The next few days are full of FBT (field based training) planning and searching for host families. I have an HIV/AIDS prevention workshop scheduled but it looks like I will have to move it for another date in June. June 5th is dia de medio ambiente, environment day. One of those days that isn't really a holiday but some of the schools will mention it. I am hoping to at least start the process of building a compost at one of my schools. The hope is that by the end, they will at least learn the difference between organic, biodegradable trash and the rest. Maybe they will even be able to use the soil on the trees they planted on the school grounds next year or start thowing their garbage in the trash instead of on the ground. Hooray for business! Life is much easier when I have things to do.

For now, I await Ally and Jeni's arrival as they travel through Nicaragua. I can't wait!

(photos: the team; Richard el catcher; the team again; Tania, Carlitos y Eduardo; some of the boys; the "seniors" aka 12 year olds who will be too old to play in the tourney next year.)

Things are looking up... I think. This may be repetative information for a few of you but, deal with it. Today I am off to an E-Zone coordinator training in Siguatepeque. Basically, it means that I will be responsible for passing information on to a few people in case of an emergency, say, a hurricane or strike. That gets me out of Talanga for a few days. Next week will be a little crazy as well. Thursday, with the help of Mateo, my Honduran counterpart coach and two moms, I will take my baseball team (pictured) to the national tournament in Tegucigalpa. We will stay at the Villa Olimpica until Sunday. Ally and Jeni are kind enough to grace me with a visit soon after and from then on, it is work work work. Or something like that.

It sounds like my toothbrush donation should arrive by the first of June (if not sooner) so I will finally be able to start that project.

I am also excited because a few minutes ago I heard thunder. That means the rains are coming and it won't be as miserably hot all day and night. Apparently the rain has started in some areas of the country but my site hasn't seen it yet.

What else is new... oh, apparently my dueña is having eye surgery (or something) so she is gone for the next few days. Her son, who is probably mid 30s and lives with her (fairly normal in this society) decided to point out the fact that we were both alone last night and invited me to watch TV (since he knows I don't have one). Although the decision to decline was easy, getting him to go away was a little more challenging. Oh dear latin men, always trying to make a move. (Yes, that is a generalization, decent men do exsist. Sometimes, they are just difficult to find.) I am just glad to be gone until after his mother's return.

I can't think of anything else new or interesting, although I am sure there is more, so until next time...

In no particular order...

1 Ants: When a cockroach (or anything) falls from the ceiling and dies in the night, it is gone by morning. Although the ants are disgusting and annoying at times, they are great house cleaners.

2 Spiders: I still don't like spiders and the huge ones (like the one I literally shooed with a broom last night) still sort of freak me out, they eat the more immediately obnoxious mosquitos. Anything that eats mosquitos and other biting insects can live, at least for now.

3 Rain: After 6 years in Tacoma, I never thought I would say it, but I miss the rain. Here, the rain is a Godsend. Relief from the relentless heat. Rain means it might cool off at night and I might be able to sleep.

4 Long Life Milk: At first, I thought it smelled and tasted disgusting, even cold. After months of living without a refridgerator, I not only use the long life milk, more often than not, it is warm.

5 Corn Tortillas (other than as a taco shell): The fresh ones, right off the fagon... mmm. I'm learning how to make them so you can experience it when I get back.

6 Lack of A/C: I know it sounds weird, but I get so cold when their is air conditioning. Then, when you walk outside, you are BLASTED with the strong heat of reality. The shade and a nice cement building with tile roof work nicely. (Metal roof definitely NOT recommended.)

7 Appearing As If I Don't Understand: Yeah, sometimes it is annoying, but sometimes I use it to my advantage and pretend I don't understand, whether I do or not. Most often, this is when people are selling things on buses.

8 Cornflakes: I never liked them growing up. Being half the price of any other cereal and the healthier of three choices in my site (cornflakes, cocoa crispies or frosted flakes, occassionally), I actually enjoy them now (yes, with my warm, long-life milk)

9 Plastic Chairs: They are all I have. Although I sometimes prefer the cool tile floor, it is nice to have a seat to offer the few people who stop by my house. They work great to throw junk on as I walk in the door too.

10 Cold Showers: Ok, so in the "winter" it sucked. But now that the days are hot without relief. I actually prefer cold showers to hot. I actually feel refreshed, as opposed to a warm shower, which you exit and immediately start sweating again. This may change as rainy season returns, but for now, I think it may be the thing I appreciate most.

Photos: Earthday activities with the Catholic Passionistas (Mateo is pictured) in Talanga and Cantarranas' comida tipica festival (the following day). The cows are turning two gears which squeezes the raw sugar cane and pure sugar cane juice pours out the bottom, into the red bucket. If you add a little lime, it tastes just like limonada.

Sorry, not too much else to report. I spent the last few days with a fever but now have meds and I am starting to feel better. Still sort of busy and waiting for the flood. I am giving my first quiz to my English class or teachers this afternoon. Should be interesting, even though they are teachers, I hear they cheat... we will see. I have two versions of the quiz but don't plan on telling them that. If I get weird answers, I will know why. I don't really have an excuse for not updating this sooner, I just haven't done it. I try really hard not to use the "I didn't have time" excuse. We definitely over use it in the States because honestly, if we want to get something done, it generally gets done. "I didn't have time" is code for "I didn't prioritize it". Here, I have given up on the excuses. I have plenty of time if I want to use it. If I don't do something, I simply didn't do it. : )

Good books I have read lately: The Alchemist (quick read, great story) and I am just finishing A Million Little Pieces (originally supposedly true then it later caim out that it was a fraud and all made up. It is about a seriously addicted guy going through rehab and his internal struggles. I find it fascinating. I am curious where he got his information or if he pulled it all out of thin air.)

I am really excited at the prospect of an occassional break from the sunscreen/bug repellent smell. Thanks Trac!

I have no excuse for not updating this. I could lie and say that I have been busy but until this week there was absolutely no truth in that statement. The last week, however, was busier and the weeks to come should be more so. THANK GOODNESS. It is funny how quickly and drastically our perceptions can change. What would have been a very relaxed and boring day in the States is an extremely busy day here. The pace of life is so much slower and the minimum thinking required so much greater (operating in a second language makes everything more tiresome). The heat doesn't help either. I know all of you dealing with the bizarre weather that is a northwest spring are day dreaming of hot summer days. It isn't all a picnic. The weather here is hot. VERY hot. As I receive emails of a "beautiful 75 degree day" then reports of snow fall the following week, I sit and sweat. If possibly, I avoid doing anything between about 11am and 4 pm. It is just too hot to wander down the dirt roads of Talanga. Sometimes, it can't be avoided but snow sounds nice sometimes. Actually, we had a cold front the week before last and I froze all day. I hear it dipped to low 70's in another town of similar altitude and has been consistently reading over 100 during that afternoons. Just don't forget how miserable the sun and heat can be as you suffer through the unpredictability of spring. I miss the change in weather.

Things are finally starting to pick up here. I started my TEAM (Teaching English and Methodology) class, teaching elementary school teachers how to teach English. I have two classes, each meeting one day a week for 2 hours. It is amazing how challenging getting people to show up on time is. For the most part it is a cultural difference, but punctuality is a real struggle here. After three weeks, they have gotten slightly better but still haven't figured out that 4:15 is not 4:00. 4:15 is much closer than 4:45, but we are still working on that. You would also think that teachers would do their homework. Wrong. The first week, out of 2 classes and a total of about 20 people, guess how many did their homework... ZERO! You are teachers! All they had to do was bring a note saying they sang the alphabet song in English to someone. I told them they could use other teachers in their class if they would like. They didn't even fake it! The second assignment was much better and the majority did at least part. Eventually, these classes will make me very busy since I will visit and observe each teacher in their classroom twice between now and August. (Don't forget, school is only half day so most of them I have to do before noon. This is a much more time intensive task than it would be in the US.)

I am also still waiting for toothbrush donations to arrive so I can start a dental hygiene program with about 10 1st and 2nd grade classes. In addition, we are trying to organize a team to write a grant proposal for funds for a TOT about HIV/AIDS. Busy busy busy. Although none of these projects on their own is that difficult, when you have to go to the school 3 different days for the same purpose because some one didn't bring something or this teacher didn't show up today, it makes the whole process take a little longer. Sorry if I sound bitter, I don't feel that way, but sometimes the lack of efficiency can be frustrating and annoying.

I don't have many new photos but here are a few of a "modern dance" presentation from the colegio (high school) celebrating the opening of a new Dirección (Principal's office). A Honduran lawn mower (not an exaggeration but typically they use a machete), and yes, new photos (taken this morning) of my sanity, aka Bello. Luckily, he left ear has started to droop so he doesn't look quite so much like a bat. : ) There is an Earthday event in Talanga's parque central tomorrow and a "festival de comida tipica" in Cantarranas on Sunday so I will try my best to get some new pictures to post. Sorry if this was a bit of a rant, what can ya do...

Oh, good things! Last weekend, my friend Rachel visited my site! It was one of the first friends to see my site. She was amazed at how huge it is but it is still a very Honduran town. It was really great to have her there and be able to share my home with someone who understands both Honduran and Peace Corps culture. I actually had two guests this week as I hosted another volunteer who was in the area helping with a medical brigade. Thank goodness for visitors! I have been told by more than one Honduran lately that it is "good to have friends". Yes, I know, but it's hard to make friends with people sometimes. : )

Marta (my sister) made a good point. The perception of saving for the future is what is missing here. Yes, I know, the US has a ridiculously high rate of credit card and other debt because: we "need" it now! From what I have heard, credit and debt is also terrible here. From my observations, I think credit cards are more of an issue in the big cities (Tegus and SPS). In smaller towns, people don't usually have credit cards, but many stores do run credit, the original kind where they keep a tab and you pay what you can when you can. It's really just the facad that is missing. The other day I made a cake with my old host family and had to bring the flour. the father didn't get paid Sunday, therefore, he wasn't a source of funding until the next time, hopefully in a few days. In the US, we can appear to have money and live somewhat comfortably without a cent to our names, it's really quite a phenomenon. Oh the beauty of credit cards, reliable pay checks, and supportive parents. Gotta run, love and miss you.

So I am really bummed. My best friend here, Emily is heading back to the great state of Washington. Yes, she too is from WA. Although I rarely saw her because she lived in the west, almost in El Salvadore and Guatemala and about 12 hours from me, I will miss her very much. On the plus side, It should be fairly easy to track her down and stalk her when I eventually make it back home myself. Initially, I was just sad that she was leaving. As I headed to Tegus today to say goodbye, I felt jealous. I am still appreciating my experience here but thinking of all the things she gets to return to is a little dishartening. She can hang out with friends and family. Soon she will enjoy hot showers, flushing toilet paper, real cheese, she will no longer have to bleach her fruits and vegetables or worry about getting parasites from brushing her teeth. There are so many things I have come to accept as a part of everyday life here. I suddenly realized how nice it will be to have some of those things again.

Em, I know going back is a tough mix of joy and sadness but thanks for everything. You will be great! I will miss you.

Considering that no one spays or neuters their animals and most wander free, I am always amazed at how few conflicts you see. Common “western/northern” knowledge tells us that 2 un-castrated bulls are likely to fight over territory, as are dogs, roosters, probably pigs included. I have seen a few scuffles between dogs. Not surprising since I have also seen two dogs stuck together, often with a third trying to get in on the action. Each time I see two bulls tied together pulling a cart or several bulls with the cows and calves being herded down the highway (yes, these are daily occurrences), I am surprised that I have not yet seen a bull fight. I know, just because they may fight occasionally doesn’t mean they will do it all the time. Today, I saw my first “wild” cock fight. I saw the organized type in Yuscarán: betting, blades, owners sucking the blood out of the roosters’ mouths, the works. As I ran through town with Bello this morning, I saw two cocks fighting along side the road. What months ago would have struck me as expected (in a strange reality) was odd and unusual. I didn’t stick around for the outcome since I was in the middle of a run with the day only growing hotter, but quite possibly someone is out a rooster. Maybe it’s just on injury reserve. I guess that is a chance you take when you allow your chickens to graze freely on the garbage in the gutter. I can’t imagine that sort of diet provides the best flavor in the eggs, but it seems quite common.

Why are we so adverse to keeping two males in a single area? Are territorial fights that common or are we overly concerned with the possibilities (as we are with so many other things). I have always considered Americans over concerned and overly worried in general. Living in this country has made me aware of the extent to which we take it. Granted, I still don’t think a four year old should be sent to the pulperia to buy Coca-cola (the consumption is an issue for me as well), but in this environment of complete opposite, were by US standards people do not show concern for safety or possible negative outcomes. [Unless of course, you are talking about me being outside the house after dark, I have seen plenty of concern in that department. Everything is peligroso, especially to me.] A few weeks ago, I met a 5 year old boy who broke his arm falling out of a mango tree. I saw him sitting quietly on a man’s lap for about 15 minutes before his mother arrived, almost hysterical. I don’t know if she was more worried about whether or how she would get medical care for the visibly broken arm or for the pain the boy must have been in. Either way, where was she when the accident occurred that another man brought him to the Alcaldia to wait for her? Our priorities for worry intrigue me. In the US, we are so overly concerned that something bad will happen or that someone will file suit we barely allow are kids to be kids. Here, parents seem so unconcerned with potential hazards that kids run wild in the streets. In a completely different way, the kids are left with so much freedom and responsibility (for themselves, siblings and sometimes jobs) that they too are hardly able to just be kids. Where does the bar tip and how do we find middle ground?

Much of the difference probably results from the general outlook on life. As a population, American are always thinking of the future (or trying/pretending to). How will this affect me in the future? Here, the future is rarely referred to and probably considered little. It is interesting how these different views clash with materialism. Americans want stuff. We work hard and save money so we can spend it later on vacations, clothes, electronics, all sorts of things. Here, people still want things. The walls may not go all the way to the roof, but there is a TV in the living room. Four kids may share a bedroom and the bathroom may be a dark concrete room with a bucket to bathe but there is a car parked out front or a nice stereo or fancy American products with instructions in English making is difficult to utilize. Again, how do we prioritize and find middle ground? I am as guilty of this odd prioritization as anyone. I still do not have a refrigerator, any sort of oven, a sofa or even a fan, yet I have speakers in which to plug my Ipod. If it weren’t for the generosity of my neighbor/landlady, I still would have nowhere to sit but the floor or bed. Life here is interesting…

I had a second odd encounter today. I ran into a neighbor on my street. Somewhat randomly, he asked where in the US I am from. Of course, I had to explain that Washington State is not the US capitol. He then asked me if my boyfriend was waiting for me in at home, another very common question. When I told him I do not have one, and don’t want one (how do you answer the “why don’t you have a boyfriend” questions?), I was informed that I need a man because it is “God’s law”. I have heard many times that I should have a boyfriend or husband. Usually, it’s followed by an offer and request to take them back to the States. Usually, I tell them I will take them and every other person in Talanga back to the US when I go. They don’t really like that response and usually say, “no, just me, no one else.” I try to entertain myself with the repetitive questions. “Needing” a man I have heard, that it is “God’s law” was a new one. How do you respond to that without insulting a person’s religion and/or culture? I prefer the “another person is too much responsibility for me” but I don’t think Hondurans are generally satisfied with that answer. Until I have a better one, that is my excuse for not having a man and/or kids. Either that or I saw I am too young but I am sure many people here think I have already missed my prime.

Favorite Bello moment yet: Yesterday, he ran into a glass door in the alcaldia. There is a logo on the door but apparently that is above his line of site. Poor guy! Generally he is quite smart but this was obviously not one of his brighter moments.

I feel as if I am constantly apologizing for the long time periods between my updates. I guess that is a sign that I am integrating and becoming more comfortable in my life here. I don’t feel the constant need to either for comfort or to share the bizarre things I see. The weird things no longer seem abnormal. I’m not sure if that is a good thing or bad but I do still have occasional “Oh yeah, I am in Honduras” moments. This week, it was dealing with my ant infestation. I thought ants made nests in hills, not in my bedroom ceiling! I don’t battle one type of ant in and around my house, but at least three. There are the little black ones that look like the ones from home, but they bite! There are the tiny ones, almost invisible except for their movement and they are the big reddish-brown ones. These are the ones I had to use the Raid on. I started finding big winged ants around my house, mostly in my bedroom. After a day or two of killing the ones I encountered, I noticed them crawling from a crack in the ceiling. I itch just thinking about it. Following a quick fumigation, their numbers appear to be dwindling. I hope it is at least semi-permanent. I am not a big fan of spraying Raid in my tiny box of a house. Really, I shouldn’t complain because I don’t generally have major ant problems, just a few each day. Some people have major issues and can’t leave anything unsealed for more than 30 seconds. I am thankful I have not had to deal with that, YET.

Aside from insect mass murder, I am just returning to work again after a nice week long break. Easter is a much bigger deal here than in the States. Instead of having the Easter Bunny and a special Sunday dinner, the entire country shuts down Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Even the buses and taxis stop running. Schools close for the entire week so if functions as spring break for the entire country. The highly religious (generally Catholic) diligently go to church every day, avoid eating meat (especially pork) and enjoy soup made with dried fish all week. I think I have expressed my dislike for consuming hot soup in the heat of the day. Mix a little dried fish and you can count me out. I taste almost anything but passing the dried fish hanging in the streets the last several weeks didn’t exactly peak my appetite.

The not-so-religious who can afford it often take the opportunity to travel. Therefore, tourist destinations generally stay open except Friday, the holiest of days. The lack of transport does present a predicament so those wishing to leave town must do so early and most people return Sunday when the bus system resumes. Imagine traveling Thanksgiving weekend except the majority of traffic is made up of buses. That is when you pay the extra buck for a lujoso line which only sells as many tickets as there are seats. Otherwise, you may end up standing for a 10 hour journey. No thank you. Monday I experienced another, “what the heck is going on?” moment. Apparently, the day after Easter is celebrated by men dressing in women’s clothes and scary masks, running through the street playing music and trying to dance with/chasing down other men throughout town. One claim was that it is a celebration of the death of Judah, another said it is like dancing with the devil. Either, both or neither could be true. Supposedly the women dress like men and try to dance with other women the next day but I did not witness this one. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, I just didn’t stumble across it.

Now that Semana Santa (Holy Week) has passed, I can start some real work. I am currently busy preparing and waiting for materials. I am scheduled to start TEAM (Teaching English And Methodology) with the teachers from 3 schools in Talanga and aldeas. Frustratingly, we have not received the manuals from the Ministry of Education yet. I am also waiting for a donation of tooth brushes and toothpaste from Colgate Palmolive. The goal is to teach 1st and 2nd graders about dental hygiene. Maybe they will still have teeth by the time they should graduate from high school. I was also reminded that Earth Day (happy birthday Traci and Melissa) is creeping up very quickly. That means I need to come up with Earthy activities. It’s a good excuse to talk about deforestation and littering. In addition, I will give an HIV/AIDS workshop at the colegio around the same time. I am anxious to get these programs started and establish a routine. My schedule is pleasant in its freedom but frustrating an unmotivating at the moment. I need structure in my life. Poor Bello doesn’t know what’s going on or when I will come home. He is still growing ridiculously fast spends the hours either running tirelessly or sleeping. There is no middle ground. I spend significantly more on food for him than for myself. Good thing he is worth it. Maybe it’s my “sanity” that is worth it although “sanity” is relative. I consider running with my dog on a leash as I talk to him (and he responds) normal but most Hondurans probably think I am on something. (Don’t worry Mom, I am not on anything.)

Speaking of sanity… during training, several of us decided that by a year into service, every volunteer seemed to be a little off, many of them admit it. Whether the cause is experiencing a new level of boredom, frustration, loneliness and entertainment or a culmination of all the changes we go through, I don’t know but I think I have tipped the scale. Hopefully I can claw my way back to “normal” someday.

Photos, Honduran sunset and beach, School kids joining with the community to protest illegal logging (I don't think you can see the police in full riot gear), and Escuela Juan Lindo kids celebrating Dia del Padre

Sorry it has been a few weeks, again. Leaving my phone in the taxi from dropping Mom and Dad off at the airport turned out to start off a rough week. I bought a new phone the following Monday, it sucked to have to spend the 500 Lempiras but I got over it. Wednesday afternoon the new phone was stolen. Yes, less than 48 hours later, I was out a phone, again. It's been an unneccessarily long and complicated process obtaining another phone. Don't ask, but finally I have a phone and a way to communicate again! Trying to find transportation for my baseball team without a phone was difficult. Although I have a Honduran counterpart coach, I asked him to take care of the transportation while I was on vacation. Of course, I came back to the answer "no hay transporte". Luckily, after several trips to the mayor's office, many phone calls (the few days I had a phone) and more than one rejection, Friday afternoon, we found transportation big enough to take the baseball team and coaches to the Regional game on Saturday morning. I have no idea how my Dad coached my teams all those years. Coaching is stressful! Game day didn't start off as smoothly as I would have liked. We left late, forgot the uniforms, my two best players failed to tell me (or even know themselves) that they had turned 13 and were unable to play. In a way, it was a blessing because my Honduran coach saw the consequences. No, kids who are 13 or 14 cannot play! It is the rules, we have discussed this! No, the other team will not have any 13 year olds, I promise. We squeaked out a win against the newly developed but tough team from Juticalpa. They took the early lead but when 10-12 year olds playing baseball, the game can change at any moment. I was relieved when the game and the week were over.

This past week was much better. Back to school and organizing the projects I plan to start after Semana Santa (Holy Week). Although it takes 2 days to get a list of teachers and the number of kids in each class, things seem to be coming together and I should have a few regularly scheduled projects each week. Somewhat of a "regular" schedule, will be nice. I have a break from the school next week for Semana Santa but after that I hope to get up and running with all my projects. We'll see. Until next time... Here are few more photots from Mom and Dad's trip. And yes, Dad and I are at the top of the temple (Tikal). [First 3: Antigua, Tela in Chichicastenango, Tikal]

In a nutshell, I survived 2 and a half weeks with Mom and Dad, they survived Honduras, Guatemala and a little hitchhiking (out of necessity, of course). Bello's worms appear to be gone, he's gaining weight and growing rapidly and has plenty of new toys (thanks Mom and Traci)!

The first few days my parents were here were hectic due to work related activities. Yes, sometimes, I really do work. After one night with Mom and Dad, I had to leave them alone in Talanga for 2 nights while I ventured south for a program training. It was supposed to be one night but we didn't get back to Tegus in time to catch the last bus back to Talanga. Therefore, I caught the San Luis, Comayagua bus at 6:00 am and my baseball team joined me as we passed the school. We easily won our first game against Charlie's team but I have to give him credit for pulling his team together himself and rounding up more than enough kids during coffee-picking season to field a team. We realized just how quickly a one hour game goes. We played a little longer and still only completed 2 innings and a few at bats. I was very proud of my kids. Only one person was hit with a pitch and my girls rocked (including a solid double, not bad for a first at bat)! After the baseball game, we met Emily and Kyler for lunch in Santa Rosa de Copán before heading to the Mayan Ruins.

We eventually made it to Antigua, Guatemala, then to Flores and Tikal (more Mayan ruins). Guatemala was beautiful but significantly more expensive than Honduras. Granted, we spent our time in rather touristy areas, that never helps prices. It was interesting seeing the Mayan ruins in Copán and Tikal so close together. The Tikal ruins are massive structures hidden by jungle while the Copán ruins have been more thoroughly cleared but you can see significantly more detail in the carvings and hieroglyphics. We woke at 4:00am for a day-break hike in Tikal. It sounds better than it turned out. You are only permitted in the park before 8:00am if you have a guide. We were told the group would be 10-15 people, in reality it was closer to 50. Also unfortunate, the cloud cover was so thick that it prevented any visible sunrise. From our perch at the top of Temple 4 you could see the tops of other temples rising above the jungle. We also saw macaws in Copán, toucans and other birds as well as both spider and howler monkeys in Tikal. We eventually made it back to Talanga to visit the cloud forest of La Tigra and Valle de Angeles. We got plenty of exercise walking and hiking to balance out the long bus rides. I am sure my parents are home resting from their vacation before resuming work on the house.

Sorry for the lack of details but I thought you would all prefer pictures. Here are a few... [Talanga; Carla vs. San Luis; Copán Ruina (4); Macaws at Copán Ruinas; Chichicastanengo, Guatemala; Snow cone cart in Flores, Guate; Tikal Ruins (3); Mom and I in La Tigra]

Funny story. My parents are on their way to visit me. I am very excited to see them and just recently realized just how much time I will be spending with them, in rather close quarters. There two and a half weeks will probably be the most time I have spent with them (consecutively) in several years. Although I used to see them regularly, they were generally just weekend visits. ¡Vamos a Ver! Anyway, I called Monday morning to find out if any last minute details needed to be ironed out. Luckily, I added a, "See you tomorrow!" before hanging up the phone. Dad's response, "No, not tomorrow, the next day." I have been expecting them on the 12th for about a month. My fault completely. Their arrival was on both my calendars for the 12th and that date stuck in my mind for the last month or so. They left WA on the 12th. They arrive today. Whoops, good one Laura!

I don't have much other news other than my puppy has (or had, not sure if they are gone or reproducing) worms. Otherwise, he's doing great. His sister is almost twice his size, mostly in girth. She's gordita, a fatty. The female has always been bigger but I think Bello's worms and exercise to her being tied up inside to eat and sleep may be the root of the difference.

This week marks the start of my "busy season". Classes started at the colegio (high school) on Tuesday and start the 18th in the elementary schools. That means I need to plan and prioritize as I attend program trainings and set up baseball games. Saturday will be my first chance to see how my kids stand up against another team. Granted, Charlie's team in San Luis, Comayagua is new and mine was "established" when I arrived. Still, I haven't seen any other kids play baseball in years. I don't know how many errors, missed grounders, flyballs and wild pitches are normal for 8-12 year old Honduran kids. I am very excited, but nervous about the game. The purpose is to teach kids about teamwork, leadership, etc, and to have fun. I've always had a slight competative edge that I am seriously trying to curb, or at lease hide. Sometimes it is difficult not to get frustrated when I see the play clearly and it's so easy to move your foot to touch the base but the kids tries to throw to first and generally either the throw or catch is less than accurate. This entire experience is a wonderful test of my patience. Between teaching kids how to throw a baseball (which is very different from throwing a soccer ball or rocks), adjusting to "La hora Hondureña" (everything starting 30-90 minutes late), and learning to entertain myself I should come out the most patient person on the planet. We'll see.

Sorry, no photos this time, I forgot to bring my camera.

Sorry, I know it has been quite awhile. I don't know whether to say that I have been busy or that I haven't done anything new to post about but neither is really true.

Bello has been keeping me busy (sorry, I haven't taken any photos recently). He makes sure I get up in the morning and encourages me to go running a few times a week. Getting up early helps that cause as well since if I don't leave by about 7:30, it gets too hot. The raining season is ending. Early mornings are cool and the shade is refreshing but it often reaches sweltering in the sun by 8:30 or 9. I spent most afternoons for about two weeks traveling around Talanga with one of my counterparts. He is a teacher in one of the schools but is working with the Alcaldia as well. The purpose of visiting each aldea around Talanga was to check on funding and progress for on-going projects. Many of the projects have been started but not finished. Of course the problems arise when the project isn't done but the money is almost gone. Worse yet, in a few cases, they couldn't tell us where the money went or who would know. I rode along to learn about all the villages of Talanga. Little communities hiding in the mountains and up dirt roads which I highly doubt are passable during the height of the rainy season.

Sometimes I feel like I suddenly, and briefly travel back to parts of the Pacific Northwest, usually, the north Cascades. There are places in this country that look exactly like familiar places in Washington. Other times, I feel as if I could be in the middle of an Asian jungle (how I imagine it). The vegitation varies greatly depending on the slope, sun exposure and most improtantly, altitude. One major difference between the mountains here and the mountains at home (besides the presence of snow) is the absence of a tree line. Up north, as the mountains rise into the clouds, the trees disappear. Here the top of each hill is think with trees but lack old growth or natural vegitation at the base. Much of this is probably due to deforestation and clearing land for farming.

Lately I have been keeping myself busy but not doing much to talk about besides traveling around my municipality. All the volunteers in the Youth Development project spent the last week of January at a "reconnect" training in Santa Lucia. The was some useful information but the days were long and at times quite boring. I deeply appreciated being around friends and socializing for a few days. I don't socialize much in my site and when I do, it usually means playing with 8-12 year olds in the park and letting them give treats to Bello. After the training, a few friends stuck around an we went out for a fun night in Tegus, partially because friends from the west were in town and partly to celebrate my birthday a few days early. We had a great time and each made it back to our sites safely. I can't begin to explain how nice it was to just hango ut with friends. That is definitely one of the things I miss most.

I returned to Talanga to attend a frist birthday party. The little girl in red, Sofia, was the day's VIP. She is the daughter of the counterpart listed above. I was amazed at the number of people present for a first birthday but many of the guests were family. We had a "Dora la Exploradora" pinata, cake and presents were left to be opened later. Parties of all types require food and beverages for everyone. Although an entire meal is not required, a few appetizers doesn't cut it. I actually spent my own birthday teaching Sofia's mom and sister how to make bread. I know it's silly, but I LOVE to bake here. Since I don't have an oven I have to find appropriate ways to borrow one.

Kids are enjoying the last few days of vacation before the new school year starts. That means I will be very busy quite soon. I have projects to plan and coordinate with each school and prioritize what to do where first. There are so many needs it is difficult to decide where to start. On top of that, I am preparing for a visit from my parents. I will try to update this again soon but at times it is difficult to find time to write.

PS: Thank you for all the birthday messages. I know I didn't respond to all of you but I really appreciated each one! Love from Honduras...