On the outside, poverty is such a romantic, beautiful thing. It makes for the best pictures and playing with the kids can bring you a joy that is only experienced with their true, innocent laughter. Life in poverty is simple. There are far fewer choices and an overall sense of peace that comes with not having. This is what I wanted, the simple life. I had romanticized poverty and the pure joy of living in it, mainly, I believe, due to my one semester I lived in Costa Rica. Four months was enough time to fall in love with the third world without having to deal with the harsh realties of it.

The honeymoon is over and poverty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Yes, I am here to serve and live with the poor, but the things that I love about it are currently being overshadowed by the people and the life I live here. Coming back from my visit to the U.S. has been far more challenging than I first thought it was going to be. I have realized how utterly miserable life can be here sometimes and how bored and sad it makes me.

How many men do I have to see peeing on the side of the road/street/side of my house before it starts to irk me? Seriously, I passed a bus going down from my community a couple of weeks ago. There were about 12 men that had gotten off the bus and they were all peeing in unison. Where in the world am I?

How many times can you watch people throw their trash out the bus window before you want to scream? Honestly, I can’t say much though.... even though I save my trash to throw away at home, I have to burn my trash. That’s right, burn it. All of it. What's better? The side of the road or burnt to ashes?

I am constantly harassed or stared at by Honduran men here. It’s pretty disgusting and makes me hate being here. Unless you see it and experience it on your own, I can’t describe to you what it feels like to be not only a woman in this country, but also a redheaded, blue-eyed gringa. Sometimes I am scared. Is that what I came here for?

The things that used to seem so beautiful are annoying. The simplicity is driving me nuts because of the ignorance and absolute lack of education that comes with the simple life. I can’t talk to anyone here that doesn’t think silly things like the sky is falling or that giving my dog actual dog food will make him want to kill the chickens because it gives him the desires to eat real meat because of the flavor of the dog food.... Or also, that I can’t shower after exercising or some equivalent myth.

PC has these goals for grassroots development, but I don’t know how to even begin to carry those out sometimes. Especially, when the place where I am makes me so sad, lonely, and angry. How do you try and teach some teachers English when their overall level of education is so low? There are so many holes in the system, especially in the gobierno here, it makes it nearly impossible to achieve any tangible results of development.

It’s a love/hate relationship. I love the beauty of this country, but sometimes I hate it so badly, I could scream.

I spent the weekend in Copan to celebrate my birthday and enjoy a relaxing weekend in the beautiful West of Honduras.

Enjoy some pictures!!

I have never really put that much thought into that black cup of hot goodness that I drink most every day. Yes, I’ve seen the coffee plants before (first in Costa Rica) and I knew that coffee picking season was November to February, but living here in Cafelandia (coffee land) has caused me to think very seriously about this drink that people all over the world partake on a daily basis, and I imagine, mostly without giving thought to it.

Yesterday on my bus ride home from Marcala, I saw things that made me really cherish that cup of coffee I drank this morning. I’m assuming that most of you don’t really understand how coffee grows, what it looks like, nor the process that it goes through to make it to your coffee grinder. Let me explain it to you so that you can better grasp the process and the way of life in Cafelandia.

Coffee grows on a large bush with beautiful, green leaves. The beans grow along the branches of the plant turning from green to red when they become ripe. Coffee is grown in the shade, because if it is not, the plants will only last about 5 years. So in between the rows of coffee bushes, there are other types of trees, usually banana trees here, that produce a taller shade for the precious coffee plants. When the beans start to turn red, the first cosecha (harvest) of the beans is made. Usually there are about 3 cosechas of coffee during the 4 month period. There are no machines to pick coffee beans, only bare, human hands. So during this time of year, the coffee farm owners go into all the poor pueblos of the mountains to collect men, women, and children of all sizes and ages to go work in the fields for the day. They load up in the backs of the trucks and everyone brings their own machete and usually a little backpack with food and water for lunch. During this time of year, literally whole families spend every day in the fields picking coffee all day long for an average of $5 a day and that’s if they fill a whole large sack-full of beans.

shade-grown.

I had a conversation with this whole thing with a friend and it’s so hard because these children have to work. Their families need them to work to help feed everyone, but at the same time it’s so unfair that this is their lives and that the lack of development causes these little kids to have to work in the fields every day and because of that, they will probably never escape the same cycle of poverty because they won’t be able to finish school, because they have to do manual labor in order to help feed their family.

My heart broke as I saw countless children of 5, 6, and 7 years old carrying machetes and walking barefoot out of the cold mountain fields on my 5:00 bus ride home, the day just ending for them. Then all the sacks of coffee are loaded onto oxen-driven carts to bring all the coffee out to the main roads where it is loaded into pick-ups or other larger trucks. The trucks then take the coffee to various places to sell it to other people who then will do the other parts of the coffee-making process. At these places, the coffee is taken out of the large 50 pound sacks and is spread out across a bed of concrete to dry. I’m not exactly sure how long this takes or really what the exact science to it is, but that’s how it works. These same trucks then return the people back to their villages to get a good night’s rest in order to do it all again tomorrow.

coffee up close while it's drying out.

I’m also not quite sure about the next step either, but the bean is then removed from the dried outer shell somehow. Then all the beans are roasted and toasted. My host family does theirs by hand over their fogon (wood-burning stove), but most of the larger coffee cooperativos does their roasting on a larger scale. Then the coffee is ground if that’s how you like it, or just packaged into bags in whole beans (how I buy it).

This is where the coffee is dried.

and then roasted.

I know it’s hard for you to think about these things when you buy your $4 or more coffee from Starbucks in the mornings, but I encourage you to think about where that comes from and all the countless little hands that labored to bring you that wonderful sabor (taste). Growing, picking, roasting, and packing café is a way of life here that allows these people to survive from one day to the next, and it is very hard labor that I don’t think I could bring myself to do. When you buy coffee, find some that is not from a large cooperation that probably pays their children even less than the farm-owners here. Find some that is locally grown or that is fairly traded. Make smart choices when buying your things. I am living with and among the people that are affected by your everyday choices as simple as the cup of coffee you drink. Yes, it might cost you an extra dollar, but I promise it’s worth it.

I know that it has been cold in the US the past couple of weeks, but you should be thankful for the little invention known as a heater. Over the past week, it has been in the 40’s here (quite freezing for a Central American country) and several days without electricity. Forty degrees without heat and non-insulated windows (some that have panes missing) is miserable. The past 3 days I have been camped out in my 20 degree Mountain Hardware sleeping bag, and I cannot tell you how thankful I am that I had that. I wish I had a picture to show you of what I have looked like the past few days: dressed from head to toe with my Underarmour winter gear, wool socks, a scarf around my head, a fleece, and a hoodie on top of that. Basically, I’ve felt like I was camping out in the mountains, only, this is my home and it’s been that cold inside. I debated bringing Rambo in the bed with me so that I could have a little body warmth, but he’s gotten huge and typically smells like the latest animal poop that he’s rolled around in, so I decided against that and resorted to turning on my hairdryer at intervals during the night to warm up. PC sent me a heater today though, so tonight I will finally sleep a little warmer.

Being home for Christmas was wonderful. I was extremely nervous about the whole thing, not knowing what to expect or how it would feel to be home, but I am glad I went home. The week started with the surprise of the century. My grandparents had no clue that I was coming home, so all the family gathered together for Christmas Eve breakfast and I walked in to surprise my grandparents. They were so shocked! Immediately, there were screams of joy and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house because we were all crying so hard. I’m so glad that I got to see you, Nannie and Papaw. I got to visit lots of friends and family, had parties, shared gifts, and enjoyed all my favorite foods I had been missing. I didn’t ever get to eat Chic-fil-a though. Such a travesty. I spent New Year’s in Nashville and got to spend time with friends from college, and as crazy as it sounds, it felt like I hadn’t been gone for a second. Home is a good feeling, a different warmth that I don’t have here in Honduras. I miss that.

The whole trip was great and I encountered little culture shock or awkward social circumstances, which is far better than I was expecting. A few times I had to take a step back so as to not freak out about all the stuff, but overall, I felt like I dealt with it pretty well. I guess that I had been gone away from the US for long enough to really appreciate all the things that I was missing, instead of being angry and bitter because of all the haves when I and all the people I live with and among have so very little in Honduras. It was a little weird to come back here though, to my little pueblo. I have realized how remote I am and how much I miss some of life’s modern conveniences. The weather situation hasn’t helped much either and I haven’t had much ganas de leave the house (to feel like). I hope that things will get better in the next few weeks though and school will start in February, so I won’t be so bored. Meanwhile, I am reading the new books I got and watching new DVDs and TV series to occupy my time.

I still haven’t washed any clothes. The water’s too cold. Oh well.

My birthday is in 11 days (in case you forgot, I like mail. See side bar for my address), and the plan is to go to Copán for the weekend. I’m very excited and this will be one of the first tourist-ish things I have done since I came to Honduras. Google Copán Ruins. :)

Happy New Year to everyone. I hope yours is as great as mine has begun. I’m looking forward to a great year.

-coffee, coffee, coffee

-salsa, bachata, Latin music

-piropos (catcalls: whistles, hisses, “I love you, baby”)

-pigs on a leash

-boiling water

-PC sleepovers with 15+ people in the floor

-random people selling random stuff

-$.79 beers

-slightly sunburned nose

-Como se mata el gusano the morning after

-baleadas

-long bus rides

-bolos (drunks)

-over religious, under spiritual Christians

-earplugs

-rooster crows

-dogs barking

-cheque

-the question, “you only have one sister?” in disbelief

-milk in a bag

-having a maid

-reading

-hair in a pony tail

-robberies

-beautiful sunsets/sunrises

-beans and tortillas

-dirt roads

-early bedtimes

-Spanglish

-have I mentioned coffee?

-Tigo text messages

-lack of saldo

-poor Spanish grammar (on the part of the Hondurans)

-good hugs from friends

-smelly shoes

-bugs

-cuts, bites, scrapes, blisters, pila wounds, scabs

-little surprises

-a sense of peace and calmness

-farmer’s tan

What else could I ask for? I know these things may not seem normal to you, but that's my life. Anything outside of the norm has become the norm and the norm that once was, is now only an unexpected sighting or event. It makes you appreciate life and all it's little quarks a little more though. I definitely do.

some pictures for you:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Christmas requests:

-art supplies of all kinds (markers, construction paper, paint, colored pencils, scissors)

-any good book you’ve read lately. read it, then pass it my way.

-new movies/music

-iTunes gift cards

-lotion/smell goods (but make sure to send it in plastic baggies)

-light-weight, non-breakable picture frames (for 4x6 fotos)

-the new international Kindle :) (only for any big spenders out there!)

-a mandolin

ESPECIALLY WANTED:

-cards, pictures, letters, love notes

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

Everyone has their reasons for joining Peace Corps. I, of course, had mine too, mainly which involved furthering my Spanish skills. This week though, I have found another reason. A reason to be here, a reason to stay, and that is the Peace Corps Family. I never really imagined all the wonderful people that I would meet and grow to love during my time here in Honduras. These people are keeping me going right now and have lifted my spirits and thus my desires to keep sticking out this whole experience, despite the crappy days along the way.

After almost two months of captivation, we were finally allowed to travel this week for Thanksgiving. I decided to venture out East to the true Wild West of Honduras, Olancho. I would venture to say it was one of the best Thanksgivings I have ever had and the 3 buses, 9+ hours of travel (each way), and hot, humid weather was well worth the trip.

I went to visit my first family I lived with during FBT in Talanga, and it was amazing. They spoiled me rotten: cooking my favorite foods and taking me to Teguz to see a movie! It was nice to be in their company and feel loved. I really miss and love them all.

You don’t really realize how much you have changed and adapted to the slow life until you leave it for the first time. Even in two short months, I have become more a part of my little pueblo than I imagined. Leaving my little site in the mountains for the first time was closely accompanied by a dose of culture shock. I got off the bus in the capital and immediately freaked out. There were people and cars everywhere and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t talk to people the same way I do in my site. I stumbled around and I finally decided to make my way to the mall (mistake). I was completely overwhelmed at the cost of things and the amount of them. It’s almost like where I live time stands still, there’s no technology, and the real world is a figment of my imagination. Not in the capital. Technology changes in the blink of an eye and life has kept on going for the rest of the world while I have been stuck in a time warp. What will coming home be like? I went to eat sushi though, and it was incredible, even though I ate it alone.

I met up with some other H15 friends and we headed out to the Wild West (East) on Wednesday. We got the tour of Catacamas, ate baleadas (basically an awesome quesadilla on a flour tortilla with beans and not the same kind of cheese) in the park (my fav!), and drank a bottle of wine together. Just when you think you’re going to go crazy living in your little pueblo, you get this group of awesome friends to be normal with for a few days and you are renewed because they know and understand your struggles because it’s their life too. It feels good for someone to understand your crazy Honduran life. We sat around playing guitar and singing songs and it was wonderful. I’ve missed music in my life. The best thing about these Peace Corps get-togethers is bed-time. Where do 15 people sleep in one house? Well, on colchones (mattresses) and sleeping bags on the floor of course. It feels just like a middle school church lock-in and we get to stay up late talking and laughing.

Turkey day was spent just like we were at home, complete with the Thanksgiving Day Parade and a whole turkey. We held hands and some prayed before eating and it was really cool to be in this circle of people from all different religious backgrounds being thankful. It’s such an amazing thing to be apart of such an eclectic, beautiful, interesting, and talented group of people. I can’t even describe it to you. Just something you have to experience. There were also some Germans that came to eat with us, which added an even different dynamic to the group. After dinner, we sang Christmas carols and for an evening, I felt like I wasn’t in Honduras.

I made the long trek back “home” yesterday; 3 long bus rides for a total of 11 hours. I live in another country really. The last hour and a half is uphill and the weather was terrible. The dirt roads were mud and we spent the last 20 miles sliding around in the bus. At one point it was so bad, the bus driver made us all go to the back of the bus to give the back tires more traction. I prayed a lot on this viaje home. It was a good 25 degrees cooler here with rain and wind from Hades. I don’t love the weather in my site, but my spirits are lifted and I know I can keep hanging in there because I have these awesome friends all over the country and it’s worth it to me to share experiences like this Thanksgiving with them.

I am thankful.

Oh! and today is election day! Be thinking and praying for Honduras as this crucial day has finally arrived and hopefully things will finally begin to look up.

Enjoy some pictures from Thanksgiving!

Everyone has their reasons for joining Peace Corps. I, of course, had mine too, mainly which involved furthering my Spanish skills. This week though, I have found another reason. A reason to be here, a reason to stay, and that is the Peace Corps Family. I never really imagined all the wonderful people that I would meet and grow to love during my time here in Honduras. These people are keeping me going right now and have lifted my spirits and thus my desires to keep sticking out this whole experience, despite the crappy days along the way.

After almost two months of captivation, we were finally allowed to travel this week for Thanksgiving. I decided to venture out East to the true Wild West of Honduras, Olancho. I would venture to say it was one of the best Thanksgivings I have ever had and the 3 buses, 9+ hours of travel (each way), and hot, humid weather was well worth the trip.

I went to visit my first family I lived with during FBT in Talanga, and it was amazing. They spoiled me rotten: cooking my favorite foods and taking me to Teguz to see a movie! It was nice to be in their company and feel loved. I really miss and love them all.

You don’t really realize how much you have changed and adapted to the slow life until you leave it for the first time. Even in two short months, I have become more a part of my little pueblo than I imagined. Leaving my little site in the mountains for the first time was closely accompanied by a dose of culture shock. I got off the bus in the capital and immediately freaked out. There were people and cars everywhere and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t talk to people the same way I do in my site. I stumbled around and I finally decided to make my way to the mall (mistake). I was completely overwhelmed at the cost of things and the amount of them. It’s almost like where I live time stands still, there’s no technology, and the real world is a figment of my imagination. Not in the capital. Technology changes in the blink of an eye and life has kept on going for the rest of the world while I have been stuck in a time warp. What will coming home be like? I went to eat sushi though, and it was incredible, even though I ate it alone.

I met up with some other H15 friends and we headed out to the Wild West (East) on Wednesday. We got the tour of Catacamas, ate baleadas (basically an awesome quesadilla on a flour tortilla with beans and not the same kind of cheese) in the park (my fav!), and drank a bottle of wine together. Just when you think you’re going to go crazy living in your little pueblo, you get this group of awesome friends to be normal with for a few days and you are renewed because they know and understand your struggles because it’s their life too. It feels good for someone to understand your crazy Honduran life. We sat around playing guitar and singing songs and it was wonderful. I’ve missed music in my life. The best thing about these Peace Corps get-togethers is bed-time. Where do 15 people sleep in one house? Well, on colchones (mattresses) and sleeping bags on the floor of course. It feels just like a middle school church lock-in and we get to stay up late talking and laughing.

Turkey day was spent just like we were at home, complete with the Thanksgiving Day Parade and a whole turkey. We held hands and some prayed before eating and it was really cool to be in this circle of people from all different religious backgrounds being thankful. It’s such an amazing thing to be apart of such an eclectic, beautiful, interesting, and talented group of people. I can’t even describe it to you. Just something you have to experience. There were also some Germans that came to eat with us, which added an even different dynamic to the group. After dinner, we sang Christmas carols and for an evening, I felt like I wasn’t in Honduras.

I made the long trek back “home” yesterday; 3 long bus rides for a total of 11 hours. I live in another country really. The last hour and a half is uphill and the weather was terrible. The dirt roads were mud and we spent the last 20 miles sliding around in the bus. At one point it was so bad, the bus driver made us all go to the back of the bus to give the back tires more traction. I prayed a lot on this viaje home. It was a good 25 degrees cooler here with rain and wind from Hades. I don’t love the weather in my site, but my spirits are lifted and I know I can keep hanging in there because I have these awesome friends all over the country and it’s worth it to me to share experiences like this Thanksgiving with them.

I am thankful.

Oh! and today is election day! Be thinking and praying for Honduras as this crucial day has finally arrived and hopefully things will finally begin to look up.

Enjoy some pictures from Thanksgiving!

Everyone has their reasons for joining Peace Corps. I, of course, had mine too, mainly which involved furthering my Spanish skills. This week though, I have found another reason. A reason to be here, a reason to stay, and that is the Peace Corps Family. I never really imagined all the wonderful people that I would meet and grow to love during my time here in Honduras. These people are keeping me going right now and have lifted my spirits and thus my desires to keep sticking out this whole experience, despite the crappy days along the way.

After almost two months of captivation, we were finally allowed to travel this week for Thanksgiving. I decided to venture out East to the true Wild West of Honduras, Olancho. I would venture to say it was one of the best Thanksgivings I have ever had and the 3 buses, 9+ hours of travel (each way), and hot, humid weather was well worth the trip.

I went to visit my first family I lived with during FBT in Talanga, and it was amazing. They spoiled me rotten: cooking my favorite foods and taking me to Teguz to see a movie! It was nice to be in their company and feel loved. I really miss and love them all.

You don’t really realize how much you have changed and adapted to the slow life until you leave it for the first time. Even in two short months, I have become more a part of my little pueblo than I imagined. Leaving my little site in the mountains for the first time was closely accompanied by a dose of culture shock. I got off the bus in the capital and immediately freaked out. There were people and cars everywhere and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t talk to people the same way I do in my site. I stumbled around and I finally decided to make my way to the mall (mistake). I was completely overwhelmed at the cost of things and the amount of them. It’s almost like where I live time stands still, there’s no technology, and the real world is a figment of my imagination. Not in the capital. Technology changes in the blink of an eye and life has kept on going for the rest of the world while I have been stuck in a time warp. What will coming home be like? I went to eat sushi though, and it was incredible, even though I ate it alone.

I met up with some other H15 friends and we headed out to the Wild West (East) on Wednesday. We got the tour of Catacamas, ate baleadas (basically an awesome quesadilla on a flour tortilla with beans and not the same kind of cheese) in the park (my fav!), and drank a bottle of wine together. Just when you think you’re going to go crazy living in your little pueblo, you get this group of awesome friends to be normal with for a few days and you are renewed because they know and understand your struggles because it’s their life too. It feels good for someone to understand your crazy Honduran life. We sat around playing guitar and singing songs and it was wonderful. I’ve missed music in my life. The best thing about these Peace Corps get-togethers is bed-time. Where do 15 people sleep in one house? Well, on colchones (mattresses) and sleeping bags on the floor of course. It feels just like a middle school church lock-in and we get to stay up late talking and laughing.

Turkey day was spent just like we were at home, complete with the Thanksgiving Day Parade and a whole turkey. We held hands and some prayed before eating and it was really cool to be in this circle of people from all different religious backgrounds being thankful. It’s such an amazing thing to be apart of such an eclectic, beautiful, interesting, and talented group of people. I can’t even describe it to you. Just something you have to experience. There were also some Germans that came to eat with us, which added an even different dynamic to the group. After dinner, we sang Christmas carols and for an evening, I felt like I wasn’t in Honduras.

I made the long trek back “home” yesterday; 3 long bus rides for a total of 11 hours. I live in another country really. The last hour and a half is uphill and the weather was terrible. The dirt roads were mud and we spent the last 20 miles sliding around in the bus. At one point it was so bad, the bus driver made us all go to the back of the bus to give the back tires more traction. I prayed a lot on this viaje home. It was a good 25 degrees cooler here with rain and wind from Hades. I don’t love the weather in my site, but my spirits are lifted and I know I can keep hanging in there because I have these awesome friends all over the country and it’s worth it to me to share experiences like this Thanksgiving with them.

I am thankful.

Oh! and today is election day! Be thinking and praying for Honduras as this crucial day has finally arrived and hopefully things will finally begin to look up.

Enjoy some pictures from Thanksgiving!

I went to a funeral today.

After only 6 weeks of being here, I have already attended my first funeral. I wonder how many of these I will see in my two years here. The 64-year-old woman who died yesterday was a grandmother to two girls that I play soccer with. That was the only reason I decided to go, that, and community integration.

We got to the funeral kinda late (story of my life), so we stood at the door just listening. The whole little Catholic church was packed full. She had 6 children and no telling how many grandchildren. I counted about 11 at first glance, but I’m sure there were more. Small families don’t exist here on my little mountain. They sang a little and said some prayers, but they didn’t really say much about her life. I don’t know if this is normal or not, but it felt pretty impersonal. After that, a group of about 8 men carried out the atud (coffin) on their shoulders. It was merely a grey box. The family followed, wrapped in each other’s arms, sobbing, and holding candles and flowers. We followed the coffin down the hill to the cemetery, through the mud left behind from the previous 4 days of rain from hurricane Ida. (Today was the first time we’ve seen the sun since last Wednesday.)

Areli, my friend from the soccer team, turned and saw me with tears running down her face. I immediately teared up too and had to hold back a sudden flood of emotions and I’m not really sure why. I forced a smile and continued in file with the rest of the community. The woman’s name was Maria. She was an active member of the community, the church, a midwife--delivering lots of the children of S.A.--and also a member of the women’s group with whom I bake bread, which I didn’t know about until today. She also was Lenca (the indigenous group here).

As I have mentioned before, Lenca are a very tiny people. So with Maria’s whole Lenca family and then the mostly Lenca community, I felt pretty out of place. Picture about 200+ tiny, dark-skinned, black hair to their butts people following a coffin down the hill with a seemingly tall, fair-skinned, redhead, blue-eyed girl walking right in the middle of them. Sometimes I just feel so out of my own skin here, and today was no exception. I’m sure I looked ridiculous, but probably not as ridiculous as I felt as I tried hopelessly to blend in--a lost cause.

When we got to where she was to be buried, the men tried to lower the coffin by hand into the shallow hole that had been dug this morning without much avail. The had to find some rope and awkwardly lowered the box into the grave between two mango trees. There was a small band with a guitar and a violin that sang our way there and many hail Mary’s were said as the men struggled with the atud. They finally got it in place and then all the sudden, they started mixing cement, threw in some rebar, and began putting the cement over the grave right then and there. It was awkward and strange, but someone told me as we were leaving that’s how it’s done when the family doesn’t have very much money. The cement is even a step up in a cemetery where most graves are dirt and a wooden cross. To have a service do all that stuff for your family, complete with grave-side chairs costs and is rare.

I guess that’s what community integration is all about. I think I’d rather go to a wedding next time though.

Sorry for the gloomy post, but I just wanted to share with you what I experienced today.

I don’t know why Hondurans have clocks.

If there is one thing that frustrates me about Hondurans--and believe me, there are a few--, it would be their capabilities to tell time. I’m not talking people that are 10-15 minutes late for things. I mean these people are so perpetually late that I want to scream. Right now, I am sitting here wrapping presents for my new host mom (I’ll explain that in a minute) who is the Kindergarten teacher. Their graduation ceremony is today at 4:00 pm. Right now it’s 4:57 pm and we, the main event, haven’t even left the house yet. This is the story of my life. Waiting for people, waiting for meetings, and the perpetual lateness that is Honduras.

So new host fam. That’s right, number 5. It’s been a long, frustrating week. My host family had been talking about this feria (fair) in Estancias (a neighboring town, and by neighboring I mean like 2 hours away in a car). I’ve been excited about it and finally the day arrives for us to leave, which was last Saturday. My family was gone all day, but they called me and told me they had to talk to me. They stopped by the house on their way to Estancias and my host dad informed me that not only would they be staying in Estancias for a week, but 2 and probably even 3 weeks. Obviously this isn’t cool. I can’t be stuck in BFE for that long. He tells me he knows that and that even after 3 weeks, he is going to be andando (going, well, kinda) in the politics--my English is failing me miserably right now because that sounded terrible. I apologize. Anyways, basically he told me that I would have to find somewhere else to stay because I couldn’t stay in their house alone. He didn’t feel comfortable with that. I called Peace Corps and they were very upset with all of this. The family had signed a contract to keep me for 2 months. So I ended up telling PC that I really wanted to stay with my “aunt” who actually is my counterpart, which is technically not allowed. Who knows why.... but after 4 days I am all moved into my new house.

It’s nice here. I feel like I have a little more privacy. I have a bedroom that’s separate from the rest of the house and has its own private bathroom with an electroducha, ya know, hot water. It also has a nice big wardrobe, which is really nice to have a place to put my clothes, and also the bed is a full size. It’s nice to stretch out for the first time in months after sleeping on lots of twin beds. The best thing of all is that they have a washing machine. For the first time in four months, I washed my clothes in washing machine and it was incredible. It’s amazing the little things that I have found that can make me happy here. I forgot how dry clothes came out of the washing machine. It only takes an afternoon to dry on the line as opposed to the day and a half or more for jeans after hand-washing.

I also had another good adventure this week. My new family took me to Comayagua, which is a pretty big city about 3 and a half hours away from where we live. I got to go to a supermercado (similar to Wal-mart) and buy important things like olive oil, good cereal, sea salt, dog treats, pepper jack cheese, and Doritos. It was amazing. I also met another H15 volunteer there and we got to hang out and catch up, a much needed break from the Honduran reality. I have to say that I experienced a little bit of culture shock going to such a big city after being in the campo for a straight month. I felt antsy and a little overwhelmed. That was cured quickly though when my family took my friend and me to Pizza Hut. It’s sad to admit, but that was the most excited I’ve been in a while. I got to eat off the salad bar and order a supreme pizza and garlic cheese bread. Like I said, it’s amazing how the tiniest things seem to make my day here.

The food is a little better here in this house, so that’s nice. I had some good chicken today and it was delicious. Dog training is going well. Little Rambo already sits and shakes on command, and comes most of the time. He poops outside every time, now to work on the whole peeing thing, and also the word no. He’s not too fond of that one. I tried to buy a kennel in Comayagua, but they were 3,000 lempiras! That’s $150 for a dang kennel! I guess I will eventually have to buy one though....

I continue to be mostly bored here. I feel really lazy, but there’s literally nothing to do. I barely have work, and if I do, it’s for 2 hours one day a week. This is going to be a long summer (yes, summer is almost here, but summer only means the dry season, but igual, it means no school). Then comes coffee picking. I have tons of movies now though--81 on my computer plus an additional 30+ that I brought--and lots of books too (thanks to all who have sent me some :)). I’ve also downloaded some new tunes and that makes me feel a little more in touch with the real world.

Happy Halloween! I wish I could go to the big Peace Corps Halloween party in Copán, but I’m still a baby volunteer and no traveling for Yessica. Maybe the New Year’s party will be equally as fun. Nothing like escaping the developing world for a party with 150 gringos.

It’s 5:37 and we’re finally leaving the house for the 4:00 event. I’m going to go crazy here!

Here's a pic of me and the pup. :)

A few days ago, my host dad’s brother (who basically raised him because their parents died at an early age) was over at the house enjoying a cup of coffee, as many people do in the afternoons here. We were having a good conversation, despite his choppy, mumbled, campo Spanish. We talked about politics and development and the reality of Honduras. Apparently a Peace Corps volunteer had also lived with him years and years ago (I think he said 16 years ago). He told me about how they adored this volunteer and she had instilled in their daughter (who was 7 or 8 at the time) the desire to read, leading her to the path to truly value her education and seek a degree from the University here, which is far more than most people in this little community ever dream about. (They've only recently started a high school.) He said they loved everything about this volunteer except for one thing. She didn’t eat meat.

We talked about the meat situation in Honduras, and I told him, “Honestly, it is quite difficult for me to eat meat here too. We are spoiled in the US and everything we consume is of top quality, especially the meat. I am used to eating meat without bones.” He laughed and he made some jokes about how I just have to get use to chewing on the bones, sucking out the good stuff to get whatever protein could be found here. My host dad laughed too and threw in a few jokes of his own. Lately, he’s been throwing in some vulgar vocabulary for me to learn or he and my host mom will make a penis joke. I appreciate them. They make my reality here much more bearable.

Last night as we sat down to dinner, I was pretty hungry. I had only eaten rice, tortillas, and quejada (another weird variation of there different kinds of cheeses) for lunch. My host mom called me for dinner as she always does, and my plate was sitting on the table waiting for me. My host mom says--I think, remembering the conversation from 2 days before--, “See if you like this meat.” It looked like the best stuff I had been served thus far in my time in Honduras, and was even complete with some sauteed onions and peppers. This time there were no bones. Where had they gotten such quality stuff from? I took a bite. Two. Five. I consumed the 3-4 pieces of meat I had been served. The texture was a little new to me, but I didn’t think much about it. Again, the meat here is strange. After I had finished my meal, I ask my family, “So what kind of meat was that exactly?” They replied, “Hídago.”

Liver.

Then my dad chimes in, “And we cooked it in the microhondo!” In the microwave?

I’m laughing out loud right now as I write this and also as I dictated this same story to my mom over the phone a few hours ago. I ate liver last night for the first time in my life. If I would have known what it was before, I probably wouldn’t have eaten it. The best meat I’ve had in about 3 months and it’s liver. You’ve got to be kidding me.

I bought a puppy this past weekend. He’s probably too small to be away from his mom, but the treatment of animals here just isn’t the same. A month is sufficient time to take a dog away from it’s mom here. He looks like a black lab, but I was told he also has boxer in him too. The mom just looked like a black lab to me. I guess we’ll see as he gets older. He walks like a boxer sometimes. He’s just a little guy though, but he’s started sleeping a little more through the night. You forget the joys of having a new puppy like cleaning up after them. Oh, and we named him Rambo. Yeah, go ahead and laugh. I did at first too. One of the best soccer players on Honduras’ team is nicknamed Rambo. My four-year-old brother thought it was the best idea ever to name him Rambo. So, there you have it. At least it’s easy to pronounce in English and Spanish. I’m also having to train him in Spanish, since well, that’s the national language here. He would be lost if I spoke English to him, considering that since he’s the gringa’s dog, it kinda makes him everyone’s dog.

It’s absolutely freezing here. I haven’t left the house in 2 days. Until last night, I hadn’t showered in more than that. It has just been too cold to bear a cold shower. I don’t feel bad though, my family hasn’t showered either. I’ve spent most of the past two days reading in my sleeping bag. High forties without a heater and howling winds are brutal. I have on my underarmour winter gear under my sweats right now. I know, this is Honduras, right? That’s what I thought. Miserable cold. It’s gonna be a long winter.

I have heard lots of complaints from people who are trying to send me packages, telling me that it is costing them a fortune. Anything over 4 lbs will cost you. Keep the size down, and thus the cost. I really appreciate the packages for what it’s worth. Last night I finally received a bag that mom had sent with the owner of the orphanage who was home in AL a little over a month ago. Last night a friend who had been to Teguz (the capital) brought it to me. It felt like Christmas morning pulling out new shampoo, deodarant, facewash, a huge bag of M&M’s, and a few other familiar things that still smelled like home. It’s amazing how little it takes to make me happy these days.

First of all, I have a new address. It's on the sidebar. Send me mail. It doesn't have to be a package (but I sure do like those), just write me a letter or send a card. It would make me feel a little closer to reality. Tell me about new movies, music, relationships. I appreciate these things. Even though I have internet, it is painfully slow and the bandwidth isn't strong enough to upload or download, leaving me clueless about anything that's not on facebook. If I don't answer you on fb chat, means my bandwidth is dead. Letters are the way to go. [See side bar]

Time is a funny thing here. I’m sure you’ve always heard that Latinos never arrive anywhere on time. Well, Hondurans are no exception to the rule, in fact, they take that rule to heart in a way that is already driving me crazy. Be sure to ask if you’re meeting at the real time or Honduran time. We practice soccer at 4. Most people show up at about 4:40 and everyone is there by 5. Meetings are guaranteed to start at least 30 minutes later than they are scheduled for. Time also moves slow here. Sometimes my days seem so long that I think it’s never going to be time to get in the bed. How early is too early to excuse yourself to go to your room?

I remember when I studied abroad I hit this point where it had been the longest amount of time I had ever been away from home and out of the States. That came at about 3 weeks then. At that time, I experienced culture shock and an extreme desire to go home. This week I think I experienced that point. I have been gone from home for about 4 months now, the longest I have ever been out of the US. I wanted to be normal so badly this week. I wanted to eat meat that wouldn’t be rejected by the USDA, I wanted to be able to drive, go eat sushi, cook with wonderful spices and flavors, and have a good glass a wine (or just a glass period). I haven’t felt like I wanted to come home, but just that more of home was here. Hint, hint, mom, come visit me already.

I have been sick for over a week now. It started as a cold, but now I think that I have bronchitis. Our PCMO’s (Peace Corps Medical Officers) have been super busy this week, so they never called me back. I think I need antibiotics. The nearest pharmacy is like an hour or so away. Again, normalcy.... where are you?

My information I got about my site told me there were 800 people here. I think 200 is more of an accurate number. The other day I went by the mayor’s house to have coffee and platicar (to chat). After a good political discussion among other things, he introduced me to his oldest daughter who is also named Jessica. I continued talking with her and she was really floored at my desire to live here in this little pueblo for 2 years. “You really do like it here? Isn’t it hard and very different for you?” she asked me. She is one of very few of the people here who have had the opportunity to move to the city to go to the University. I hadn’t really been thinking about it much, but it is so different from the world from which I come. I don’t even know how to describe to you what it feels like to be this tall, white, blue-eyed, educated woman in this pueblo. Sometimes I feel so out of place, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m a minority, and by quite the long shot. I’m sure that more than the mayor’s daughter wonders what in the world I am doing here. I too sometimes wonder what I’m doing, what I will do in these two years.

I do love my host family here. I am thankful that I can go back home to them, share with them, and joke around and feel a little normal. They treat me really well and are already considering me to be part of their family.

There is only one mirror in our house. (Not normal for a daughter of a hair dresser. There have always been mirrors everywhere in my life.) A few days ago, I straightened my hair (without a mirror) and got ready to go to the kindergarten. I went to look in the one mirror in the house, and I barely recognized myself. My hair has grown several inches (I hadn’t noticed because I usually wear it in a pony tail), is a very light reddish color, and I have pretty much stopped wearing makeup. It’s a strange feeling to look in the mirror after not seeing yourself for a while. I feel like I have changed...and not only physically. I think my personality is different in Spanish. Is that possible? I live my life here in my second language... Language barriers, somewhat limited vocabulary, and a place where sarcasm is rarely understood.

I’m definitely still messy in Spanish. My room is a wreck and I’m procrastinating washing the pile of laundry I have by hand. The sun’s out today, I should get to that.

In other news, the US tied against Costa Rica last night with about 12 seconds left in the game. What does that mean? Well, it means that CR gets bumped to 4th place, and moves Honduras to 3rd place, qualifying them for the World Cup next year in South Africa. Oh and the US won 1st place. Everyone went ballistic here when US scored the goal. I think more people here were watching that game instead of the Honduras-El Salvador game. There are 3 cars in my community. We all piled up in the back of the 3 cars and went around honking the horn, whistling, and screaming HONDURAS HONDURAS! This is the first time in 28 years that Honduras has gone to the World Cup and only the 2nd time ever. Soccer is life here in case you didn’t know that. So it’s a big deal. A huge deal. Today was declared a national holiday. No school. No work.

No wonder they can’t escape this cycle of poverty. Always taking holidays.... Guess I’ll just read another book today.

If anyone should not celebrate Columbus Day, it would be the people of Latin America.

That's all.

Okay, Obama, you just won the Nobel Peace Prize. Can you please do something about this whole Honduras situation? We’d all like some paz (peace) around here.

The de facto Honduran government announced last night that schools will be getting out on October 31 because of elections. The students here have lost months of school because of this situation and now they’re ending school early. Not only that, they also announced that no student would be held back this year. Every single student will be passed, regardless of what their grades are. This is so sad for the kids here. They will start out next year behind and probably will be left to fend for themselves.

Other than that news, things are going really well here. My new site is beautiful. It’s cold, but beautiful. Don’t laugh at me. It really is pretty chilly here, especially at night. I am sick and I think it’s because of the weather change. Sometimes in the evening, I go into the room where our fogon (wood burning stove where we cook important things like beans and tortillas on) is to sit by the fire and warm up. I wear sweats and warm socks at night. It’s been pretty nice during the day, but it usually rains and gets cold starting about 3 or 4 pm. I have met lots of people in my community and they have been more open and friendly than I was thinking they would be towards this strange gringa. Literally.

Today the US and Honduras are playing soccer. If Honduras looses, they're out. So it kinda sucks to be in the position to not know who to cheer for. I am just hoping for an impate (a tie). The game is at 7 central time if you're interested in watching.

I have joined a women's soccer team here. We have our first game tomorrow. I am really excited about it. All the girls are about my age, maybe a little younger. We have a few good players, but I just hope we don't get killed tomorrow. We'll see. I think that these girls are going to become some of my really good friends.

I am also working with a youth group from the Catholic church here. I have hung out with them twice and they want to learn to play guitar and sing new songs, so I'm of course very excited about that. I'll do whatever they want in terms of music. I do wish I had my guitar here though. Maybe I'll try and find one here. I sat through a service with them as they prayed the rosary. I think that I almost know the whole Lord's Prayer in Spanish now.... the rosary.... well, it's kinda different. I don't know what to think. I guess I will learn and participate to be respectful of their religion here. It will be a learning experience. Religion is a whole different animal here.

Today I went to the vet in the nearest city to ask about finding a puppy for me. He's gonna find one for me in the next month or so. Who knows what kind it will be. It will be an adventure to train a dog in Spanish. I think that it will keep me occupied and keep me from being so bored when school gets out in a few weeks.

I'm a little sick today. I have a cold. Boo.... but I am in the big city right now and I am sitting on a sofa in a real coffee shop. It's nice to feel normal for a few hours and have a cappuccino, a diet coke, and a pack of Skittles for the road. It's funny how you learn to appreciate the little things.

On March 6, I received my invitation to serve in Peace Corps Honduras. Since that day, I have been waiting for and imagining the community where I would work and live, the community that would become my home. After a golpe de estado (or military coup), an unexpected trip to the Dominican Republic, a week in Miami, President Mel sneaking back in the country, toque de quedas, and 4 family home stays, I have reached my final resting place here in Honduras.

This last week has been a crazy, but fun one. We had lots of goodbye parties, we met our counterparts, and were sworn in at the US Embassy as official Peace Corps Volunteers. It has been quite emotional as well. If Peace Corps has its downfalls (and sometimes it does), one is this: you spend your first 3 months of your PC career getting close and getting to know the other trainees in your class (ours is H15). You spend just about every waking moment with these people, and because we are all in this strange, new country and culture together, we formed bonds quickly. Then in an instant, you say goodbye, give hugs and walk away to be alone in your new site. It's like they just play with your emotions... here are your friends. Love them. Get to know them. Soon they'll be 10 hours away from you and you'll see them twice a year. I don't know if there is another way to emulate actual service, but it is still a terrible thing to go through. The goodbyes suck. (Sorry Nannie, if you don't like that word.)

Back to my original thought....So more than 6 months in the making I have imagined this new community..... I don't remember exactly what my original mental picture of this place was, but I am here now and it's more than just a thought. This is my new reality. I honestly didn't think that I was going to be in a community this small, but yet, this is what one might think of when they think Peace Corps. It was about a 4 hour bus ride from the capital to my nearest big city, which isn't that bad. Then from there, I had lunch at my counterpart's house (she lives in that big city), went by the post office to get a PO Box, then threw all my maletas (luggage) in the back of a pick-up to head up the mountain to my site. This is where the pavement ends.

Remember Rockford? Pretty much the same thing. Miles and miles on red, dirt roads, only this time into the mountains. There is coffee everywhere here. Beautiful green leaves with yummy coffee that will be ready to cut in a few months. After about an hour and a half on these dirt roads, we topped a hill and my counterpart pointed out my new community on the hill. We arrived and I met my new family where I will stay for the next two months while I learn about and meet the community and look for a house to rent. They're a pretty young couple with kids that are 5 and 4 months, both boys. The dad is running for mayor right now and his brother-in-law is the mayor. My family makes up almost half of the town. The house is relatively large and it's nice. The best thing is the view out my window. I am on top of a mountain and can see everything below. There are also mountains in the distance, one of which is actually a volcano over in El Salvador. Yes, I am that close to the border. It's beautiful. I had to just sit out on the grass and take it all in. Oh did I mention it's cold here? Yes, that's right. Cold. 6,000 meters high cold and it's not even the coldest part of the year yet. I will be spending my time here wearing hats and jackets and sleeping in my 20 degree sleeping bag. (One of the best decisions I ever made was buying that thing.)

My community had a welcome party for me minutes after I arrived. I was exhausted, but I smiled and drank coffee and watched the kindergarten children do danzas folkloricos. It was precious, and I was quite overwhelmed. I also had to give a speech. Yuck. I haven't been speaking much Spanish lately. Time for a change. All Spanish now.

I am extremely tall here. The people here are an indigenous group called Lenca. They're tiny. Doorways are mostly too short for me and I'm only 5'7'' on a good day. Most of them are about 4'10''-5'2'', maybe even smaller. I could get used to this. I am realizing right now how developed Talanga and Valle were. This place is worlds apart from Tegucigalpa. My coffee this morning had cow's milk in it. Straight from the vaca. And the tortillas here are made straight from the corn they grow. Pick it, shuck it, take out the kernels, grind it, and it's a tortilla. Some of these people have never seen a computer and cable i a big deal. The baby calves are asleep out on the front porch. Out of all my travels throughout Central and South America, this is by far the most rural and undeveloped place I've ever been, but it is beautiful. It is however, going to take a minute to adjust yet again. Little by little.

I can't wait for some of you to come and visit me and see this. Describing it to you on here doesn't do it justice. Just get your passports and come see me. You've got two years starting now.

If you want to see some pictures from swearing in and such:

here they are.

Just a side note.... It's been 6 years today. Six years since Cody passed away. Unbelievable. Even though I am so far away from all of you, know that my thoughts are with you and that I am too thinking of Cody bear.

Or at least I hope so.

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

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

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

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

There are certain things that I live on a daily basis and I forget to take note of their rarity or to share them with anyone. I realized the other day that I talk to my mom (my real one) every single day, but I just haven’t really said much or told her about things here. Life in a developing country is quite different from life in the U.S., if you can imagine that. My mom mentioned that I haven’t complained to her about anything. As most of you know, this is contrary to that which is me. Somehow these lack of amenities and the presences of creepy crawly bugs and electroduchas are somewhat comforting. Life is just easier. But for you to get a feel of some things, I am not going to complain about anything, just describe for you. Take it for what it’s worth. I get up every morning to the chickens crowing and dogs barking. I could sleep with my window closed, but it gets to stuffy and hot in my room (which by the way is decorated with Hannah Montana and Strawberry Shortcake, complete with S.S. sheets. Thanks, Lizabeth [my little sis]), so I elect to sleep with the window open and endure the sounds of the morning. After I force myself out of bed, I go to the bathroom. If you don’t know, you cannot flush toilet paper in the toilet here. You have to put it in the trash can. If the dogs and chickens don’t wake me up, the smell of the bathroom shared by 11 people does. There’s also a small apparatus missing from the tubos negros (sewage pipes) here as well. In the U.S. there is sort of a trap door on drains that eliminates smells and other things from returning. This said apparatus doesn’t exist here. After that, comes the water issue. Water only comes here 2, sometimes 3 days a week. When it comes and there is running water, we are free to flush the toilet normally. Also, we then fill up the pila (pronounced: pee-luh, meaning the big thing that holds water) and that is the water we use for the next several days: brushing teeth, washing hands, clothes, and then there’s the toilet. When there’s not running water, well, toilets don’t flush because the tank can’t fill. Toilets work with gravity. If you throw a bucket-full of water into the toilet bowl, it will flush without using the little handle to do it. So on days without water, I exit the bathroom, fill up the pila (pronounced: pie-luh, large plastic bowl used for lots of things like flushing toilets and washing clothes and brushing teeth), and pour that water into the toilet bowl to flush it. As you can imagine, this isn’t a very sanitary practice. You have to be careful to pour the water fast enough to flush the toilet, but slow enough that you don’t get splattered. I can be slightly a germ freak at times, and I have to say that bathrooms are a source of pain for me. I carefully get in and out of the shower, touching as little amount of the floor as possible, avoiding any splatter from the previously mentioned process. Ants and cockroaches also like that big trash can filled with used toilet paper. The other day I went to pick up the toilet paper and there were about 10 giant, black, carpenter ants that exited the roll of toilet paper and ran down my arm and I had a slight freak out. I do though, have hot water and I do enjoy that experience about our bathroom. However, there are little tricks to it. The first trick is to avoid getting shocked. Hot water heaters don’t exist here either. Instead there’s the invention called the electroducha (electric shower). Basically, it is a shower head that is attached to an electric current. When the water is turned on, there is a little thermometer inside the electroducha that tells the electricity to turn on and heat the water. Sometimes that little thermometer doesn’t like to sense the water. “The water isn’t getting hot,” I yell to my little brother. “Pégale duro!” (Hit it hard!) my brother says in response. So after hitting the shower head a few times, carefully avoiding the little streams of water coming down from the exposed electrical cords and only being successful at this half of the time, I eventually get hot water and a gentle shock from the water that flows from the electrical wire. It’s all worth it to have water hot enough to steam up the bathroom mirror. I am one of few who has this privilege. My family that I will return to on Tuesday doesn’t have this wonderful device called the electroducha. The weather there is a good 15-20 degrees cooler, but no hot water. So after telling my family here about this dreaded situation, they took me to their Ferraterría (like an Ace Hardware store, which my family owns) to resolve matters. The brought me this little device that is basically a piece of PVC pipe with holes drilled into it with a hairdryer coil inside it and a plug coming out of it. Sounds safe, huh? I paid about $6 for it and took it home. They call this thing a Calentadora de Agua (a hot water heater). The directions tell me to: 1. Submerge in water. 2. Connect the 110 volts 300 watts. 3. Disconnect before taking out of water. 4. The time needed to warm the water is proportional to the amount of water. I forgot to mention that this is water that I will get from the pila (the one pronounced: pee-luh) and put into a quinto (5 gallon bucket). Then I will use the pila (the one pronounced: pie-luh) to pour the carefully heated water over myself to shower. Anything warmer than the ice water from the mountains is better than nothing. It is now 6:45 a.m. and I have already done all of this. Let the day begin and bring on the tortillas!

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

My site:-1700 meters (5,600 ft), so MOUNTAINS!!-Lenca (indigenous group of people)-cold weather-pine trees-coffee area-can grow lettuce!! and there are lots of tomatoes-have electricity-INTERNET-walk a lot, which maybe I can get a horse-small town-one restaurant -2 hours away from the closest city-about 45 minutes away from the closest volunteer

Host fam:-mom-2 brothers (one is a teacher, other is in high school)-pretty nice house b/c 2 other kids live in US and send money

Work:-Reiken Library (youth groups, mobile library, community activities)-Kindergarten (teaching dental hygiene) -Primary school (1-6 grades; start a basketball team, dental hygiene, Spanish, Math)-High School (HIV/AIDS education and more)-Superintendent figure (Teaching English to teachers TEAM, teaching Math and Spanish methodologies, HIV/AIDS, Sex Education training)-Youth Group from the Catholic Church (activities, soccer team)-Women's Cooperative (they bake bread and sell it, but want to learn to cook other things and business skills)

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings. To be blessed or to bless others?

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

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

I'm tired of dust.

It's a very, very small world.

How do those lichens survive on the power lines?

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

Pigs are weird.

Eres el Resultado de Ti Mismo

Tú eres el resultado de ti mismo, no culpes a nadie nunca, nunca te quejes de nadie ni de nada, porque fundamentalmente tú has hecho lo que quieres de tu vida. Acepta la responsabilidad de edificarte a ti mismo y el valor de acusarte a ti del fracaso, para volver a empezar corregirte, el triunfo del verdadero hombre surge las cenizas del error.

Nunca te quejes de tu pobreza, tu soledad o tu suerte, enfréntate con valor y acepta que de una y otra manera son el resultado de tus actos y las pruebas que has de ganar. No olvides que la causa de tu presente es tu pasado como la causa de tu futuro es tu presente.

Aprende de los fuertes, de los audaces, imita a los valientes, a los enérgicos, a los vencedores, a quienes no aceptan situaciones, quienes vencieron a pesar de todo. Piensa menos en tus problemas y más en tus estudios y los problemas sin alimentarlos morirán.

Aprende a nacer desde el dolor y a ser más grande que el más grande de los obstáculos. Mírate en el espejo de ti mismo, comienza a ser sincero contigo, reconociendote a ti mismo y serás libre y fuerte, y dejarás de ser un títere de las circunstancias porque tú mismo eres tu destino y nadie puede sustituirte en la construcción de tu propio destino. Levántate y mira por las mañanas y respira la luz del amanecer.

Tú eres parte de la fuerza de tu vida ahora, despierta, lucha, camina, decídete y triunfarás en la vida. Nunca pienses en la suerte porque la suerte es el pretexto de los fracasados.

-Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

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

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

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

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

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

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

After weeks of literally elation and feeling as if nothing could go wrong......... I had a pretty rough day yesterday. Then when I woke up today, I just did not want to be here. Reluctantly, I pushed through though. I guess that's just how it goes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I feel like I have so much to say and write about, but it´s just so hard to find the time to sit down with slow computers and type it all out. Next time I will go ahead and type out my blog and bring it to the internet place and just upload it.I am really enjoying things here. Life is simple. I'm always full and having new adventures daily. Today FBT went really fast. We spent the day learning about OM, Oddessy of the Mind. This was absolutely hysterical to me that they are trying to do OM programs here in Honduras. It was awesome though. We did practice competitions and problem solving. If you don't know what OM is, well, you're missing out. We went to the Orphanage last week to meet the kids there that we will be working with for the next 5 weeks. It was tough. Really tough. There are 44 kids in the center, most of which were abandoned. They don't have many resources at all, but hopefully we will be able to just hang out with them and love on them. Many of them are malnurished or suffer from FAS (fetal alcohol syndrome) or maybe even HIV. It's hard to tell and it breaks your heart. My family is great and I enjoy ever second with them. My mom is very affectionate and she gives great hugs. Que rico son sus abrazos! she always tells me..... I'm also getting a lot closer to my sisters and the millions of cousins that I have.  It really makes me want to have a big family.We've had birthday parties, soccer games, school visits, and so much more.... I have so many pictures too, but also this connection is too slow to upload. I will try again soon. 

I love Honduras already. Things are going really well here and I am so spoiled. It really is almost pathetic as to how spoiled I am. This cannot really be my reality in Honduras. I am staying with a family that has quite a large house. They do have to have a large house though, because there are 11 people in the house right now counting myself. 3 guys and 8 girls. It's so much fun! The food here is incredible and I feel like I'm already gaining weight. Haha. I'm sure that I will loose it the second I am by myself in my site without someone serving me every meal, and considering the budget I will be living on as well... I also have hot water here. For the first time in over a month, I took a hot enough shower to fog up the mirror. I can't tell you how exciting this is after taking showers that literally take your breath away because they are so cold for nearly a month.

Right now I am in a process of training called FBT (Field Base Training). During this time we have Spanish classes in the morning (7:30-11:30) and then we go home for lunch. In the afternoons, we have more training, but finally we are learning about the jobs/projects we will actually be doing during our service. I am mainly going to be doing a project called TEAM (Teaching English and Methologies). This is a project set up to teach English to teachers. The Honduran government has recently added English in grades 4-6 and most of the teachers don't speak English, much less how to teach it. That's where we come in. We provide a 6 month session of classes to teachers 2 hours a week where we teach them English and give them ideas to use in their own classroom. I'm getting pretty excited about it.

There are also lots of other projects that we will get involved in as well: coaching girls basketball (yay!), girls soccer, and starting baseball programs (not yay. damn emperialism.). I can also work with midwives and young pregnant women in the community. During FBT, my Spanish class is not actually going to have class every day. Instead, four days a week myself and two others are going to work with an orphange here to paint murals in the community. We're starting on this on Friday.

I'm forming good relationships here. It's really amazing how we become to depend on each other is this new world of ours. Culture shock still hasn't hit me and I'm wondering how or if it will hit me this time. There are days of frustration, but Honduras is still new a week in and I am so excited about life here for the next few years.

I hope to post more pictures soon, but I'm too scared to bring my laptop to the internet place. I've taken lots.

Good luck to my students starting 8th grade! And also to all the teachers! Woop woop. Tomorrow I have my own school adventure in a 2nd grade Honduran classroom.

I miss you all.

I'm finally here safe and sound in Honduras. The weather is the most incredible thing. It's a perfect 72 degrees and there's a slight breeze. Right now I am wearing pants, a shirt, a sweater, and a rain jacket. It's that cool. I love it! The training site is beautiful as well. We are up in the mountains and there are lots of pine trees (which I thought to be strange) and other exotic plants as well.

My family is really sweet. The mom is pretty young and she has 3 children: Eduar (3), Cristian (6), and Alexandra (9). They live in a pretty small house, but fortunately, we have running water and there is much more power here than in the DR. The water is freezing though and I haven't had the courage to ask her to boil the water for me to shower with. It has been about 55-60 degrees in the morning so you can imagine what cold water feels like at that temp. Ice water.

Today I am in a little town called Santa Lucia, and it is beautiful, complete with cobblestone streets and view where you can see for miles through the mountains.

Training is going well. The staff is great, very positive and we start formal Spanish classes tomorrow that will be divided among our groups of projects (I am doing youth development). We have also been given a more detailed account of what we will be doing here as well. Pretty much I am going to be doing teacher training and then whatever youth programs the community wants to participate in.

I hope that I am going to be in a site with weather and a view like this one. It's incredible.

Also, things here seem pretty safe. The zona where we are is pretty calm, so please don't worry too much about me. Most of the people here seem to want Zelaya back in power to restore democracy and have elections this fall, but it just depends on who you ask. The worst part about all of this is that the children here aren't able to go to school because the teacher's union is on strike. It affects everyone and it's really sad that the children are the ones who seem to be suffering the most in all of this. Hopefully things will continue to settle down and be resolved. Other than that, there is just a curfew and you aren't supposed to be out after dark, which doesn't really affect me, because I'm so tired right now, I want to go to bed as soon as the sun does.

Thanks for all your prayers/thoughts/concerns. I'm looking forward to my service here. It's going to be amazing and I love Honduras already!

If you want to send me mail, you can do it now, and I would love it (even if it's a silly card)! Send it to:

PCT Jessie Strange

Cuerpo de Paz

Apartado Postal 3158

Tegucigalpa, D.C 1110

Honduras, America Central

I am also getting a Honduras cell phone by tomorrow, so if you get a call from a random number, it's me! International calls from a cell phone here to the U.S. are only $.10, so I will be taking advantage of that. I'll also give you my number if you want, so you can always call me from Skype.

This makes me happy. This is Joe.

I feel hopeful today. For the first time since about June 28th, I feel like we're actually going to get to go to Honduras this time. Just a couple more days.

This is our group:

It's been a good time in Miami, but we're all ready to be there. We also lost another group member today. Someone has decided to go home. Makes me sad. Who else will we loose over the next few weeks and months?

See ya on the other side! (Si Dios quiere)

The past four weeks have been a crazy emotional roller coaster. I moved out of my apartment, sold my belongings, said tons of goodbyes, and left my life for a supposed 2 years in the Peace Corps. That was tough. One day before we leave, plans are changed and we're sent to the Dominican Republic. That was totally fine with me. I got to see another country and learn a new culture. I wasn't however prepared for the extent of this whole experience.

When I said goodbye to my host family in the Dominican, they cried. I walked out the door and waved goodbye, but this was something that I was not expecting. I just spent 3 weeks getting to know this family and now it's over. The Doña said her door was always open for me to come back if ever I were to be in Santo Domingo again.

Following this, I am thrown unexpectedly back into American culture without giving a second thought to what we have just experienced in the DR.

Our flight Wednesday morning was delayed out of DR, so we ended up missing our flight to Honduras. We were rescheduled for a flight today and put up in a hotel by the airlines.... Lots of other things have happened too, like lots of people being sick and crazy scheduling, but we're safe and sound in a hotel in Miami and it looks like we're going to be here for several more days and we will try to leave again next week.

We're safe in a hotel. However, I do not feel that safe is really the word to describe how I feel right now. We are in a super nice hotel overlooking the Miami Bay, complete with running water (and hot water), swimming pools, air conditioning, and fluffy sheets, pillows, and comforters. Not the same scene I was in a mere 2 days ago. I feel guilty. Really guilty. I am trying to devote two years of my life to serving in the developing world, but instead I am being spoiled with U.S. tax dollars and fluffy pillows, and lots of them.

All I wanted was to live simply with a little host family, taking bucket showers and sleeping under a mosquito net, and hopefully learn and grow in the process. I guess that's too much to ask.

It's still unclear as to why we weren't able to fly down today though, which is frustrating. There are 2 senior staff members from D.C. down here now though so we're going to do some training activities and hang out in the community here in Miami.

This has been hard. It's hard to stay positive when doors keep getting slammed in your face and when everywhere you turn, plans are changed, all the while you are carrying around tons of luggage awaiting who knows what. I usually am one that just goes with whatever happens; for example, doing the Peace Corps in the first place. I applied on sort of a whim, and doors opened for me to do it, so I went through with it. Now, though, it's tough not to take all these bad things that are happening as signs that maybe this isn't what I am supposed to be doing, but does it mean that for the 49 other members of this group? However, it's not like I can just walk away. I'm in Miami with two suitcases full of stuff awaiting a long adventure. I don't have a job or a place to live back at home. What else would I do?

I just have to wait it out.

It's been a long day. I hope tomorrow is better.

We're finally officially headed to Honduras next week. We got word today that we had gotten the State Department's approval, so we're good to go! I'll let you know when I get there safely.

It's hot. So very hot. I cannot wait to be in Honduras.

There are lots of problems with infrastructure here. The main problem that I have been most in contact with is the lack of energy. Yesterday there wasn't any power for 12 straight hours. Please imagine this in 95 degree weather and 80% humidity. It's rough. Basically what is happening is that the government here doesn't pay very much for their electricity. All government buildings basically get away with paying pennies for all the energy they use. There are also lots of problems with people just running electricity lines to their houses and also not all the houses have meters. In turn, the cost of electricity for the normal person is extremely high. The people of the DR consume much more energy than they pay for and in order to make up for that deficit, they just turn off the power for hours at a time. So that, even the people who religiously pay their bills are without power because the society as a whole cannot resolve this problem (which seems to be such a simple solution). Businesses cannot operate because they either have to run on expensive batteries or just suffer the losses. It's terrible, and is a huge cause for the lack of development here.

The internet cafe I am in right now is running off of battery power, and fortunately there's a fan on here, so it's bearable.

Training is getting boring and it's tough because we cannot really proceed any further without actually being in country. Our trainers are doing the best they can, but it's been a boring week. We did however get to go on a trip with Spanish class to visit a Botanical Garden, and then yesterday we went out to the campo (rural part of town) to visit a PCV there and see her projects. It was a much needed change from the mundane.

This is our last weekend here and I think we may try to go to the beach again. We'll see.

Take a look at my facebook pictures if you like. :)

It's tough here because everywhere we go, we are rubios (blondes). We are Americans and we stand out no matter what. People stare at us constantly, almost to the point where sometimes I want to scream. I hung out with some friends today, all of which are proficient in lots of languages. I feel dumb because I only know two. Between the four of us we had English, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and Russian. People kept coming up to us to ask where we were from. We just kept throwing out new languages. It was a fun game.

I have to learn Portuguese next. Maybe I'll head to Brazil after the Peace Corps to take on that task. Then I will remember what it feels like to learn a new language again.

There are lots of people in our group of volunteers that don't even speak Spanish very well. I'm thankful that I have already accomplished that task, because it makes moving into a new country and new home so much easier. Some friends here are so exhausted from trying to learn the language that they don't even want to hang out with others at night. I remember feeling that way in Costa Rica.

Things are going great here. Besides the ridiculousness that is the hot weather here, I really like it in the DR. Sweating is a constant. Life is sometimes boring and without your own "life" you sometimes feel like a child again, but that is to be expected when you move into a new country and live with a host family. Today we just needed to get away from that, so we took a trip outside our barrios (neighborhoods) and explored a little. It was a good feeling. The one good thing about loosing your sense of freedom is the care that you receive in return. I haven't even poured my own glass of water in the past two weeks if that tells you anything.

I am going to cook dinner for my family tomorrow night though. I'm making spaghetti with homemade sauce and Italian sausage. It will be a nice change from rice and beans.

One more full week here. Hopefully we will know something mid-week as to definite plans for heading to Honduras, but right now, it's looking like things are going to be fine.

I wrote this yesterday or the day before, but I haven't had a chance to post it. Here goes:

La Vida Republica Dominicana

I am really enjoying life here. The culture is very much like other Spanish-speaking countries that I have been to, yet very different. It reminds me a lot of Cuba. The Spanish here is some of the most different that I have heard. They speak extremely fast (I think even faster than the Puerto Ricans), and I am already starting to pick up on the extreme exaggerations and very expressive language the Dominicans use. Like other Caribbean Islands, everyone enjoys drinking rum and their national beer is Presidente. El merengue is the national dance and we’re learning it today in class, along with Dominoes. Everyone plays Dominoes like it’s their job. It’s great. People stop by all the time and we pull out the Domino table and play a couple games. The Domincan Republic is a very talkative culture. At night, I have been so tired from listening to so much Spanish all day that I want to go to bed at 9:00. The food has been pretty good, but not much variety or vegetables. It’s tough to get accustomed to eating this many carbohydrates.

The family I am living with is great. I have the most outgoing Doña (this is what you call an older woman, the head of the house). Her names is Oneida. She has 12 children, only one of which lives here with her. She also has 9 brothers and sisters, so pretty much there are always people stopping by and coming to visit their sister, mom, grandmother, great grandmother. She’s great and everyone around here knows here. La Doña never stops talking. Haha. My “sister” is Germinia and she’s 28, the youngest of the 12. That’s all that lives here, but it feels like a lot more than that are here at any given time. My family is also Baptist, which is kind of strange. Most the people here are Catholic, but I went to the good ole Southern Baptist Church with my family on Sunday.

Training is going well. There have been some definite boring times as we go through all the rules of Peace Corps and all the health and safety standards. Today we were told the results of our Spanish proficiency exam and I placed into Advanced High and I’m in one of the two highest classes, which is pretty exciting. This means that when we get to Honduras (eventually and hopefully), I will not have to attend daily Spanish classes like the rest of everyone else. Instead, I will get to do other projects out in the community. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know more people that are with us, but one person has already gone home. That leaves us at 50.

I have to get 4 more vaccinations, and I am not excited about that. Some people say they are already getting homesick and stuff like that, but I hate to break it to you, I am not. I am adjusting to this culture very easily and I have enjoyed it tremendously thus far. I’m sure the missing will come, but I don’t know to what extent I will experience culture shock this time. Who knows when it will hit me though, or how it will do so.

It’s extremely hot and humid and mosquitoes are rampant here, but fortunately, they don’t like my blood here like they do in the States. I have only been bitten once even though they swarm in the dark corners of the house (knock on wood). We’re taking Malaria medicine though and it’s giving me terrible nightmares. I’m not looking forward to taking this for the next 26 months. The humidity here is absolutely ridiculous. You can’t even imagine. The power goes out several times a day and we drag little chairs outside and sit under the trees or on the front porch and shoot the breeze (if we’re lucky enough to have one that day). I’m getting used to cold bucket showers twice a day. You almost crave those cold showers, because you need them to cool off and stop sweating, if only momentarily. I’m sleeping under a mosquito net with a fan blowing on me, at least until the power goes out. Oh and I can’t forget the ear plugs, a definite necessity if you want to get any sleep here. The culture is loud and I feel like people never go to sleep, the dogs bark, and the roosters crow, and I love it because it’s culture and I’m a part of it, even if I have the whitest skin and bluest eyes in my neighborhood.

We still don’t know what we’re going to be doing about continuing on to Honduras. The situation isn’t looking very good from what I read today, but hopefully things will start looking up. They tell us they will make a decision by the end of the week as to if we will go or not. Please think and pray for me in this. I’ve given up pretty much my life to do this for the next two years, and I don’t want this to end here. There’s a possibility that if we cannot go to Honduras, they will try to assign us to different countries, but who knows how long that will take or where in the world we will end up. Keep an eye on the news for me.

Por tres semanas, soy Dominicana y lo me encanta. Mañana aprendemos bailar el merengue y la salsa, y jugar a los dominoes.

I am in the very hot Dominican Republic. We got in yesterday afternoon and stayed the night together and today we are at our training center. We just ate lunch and this afternoon we will have language interviews and then we will go to meet our host families tonight. We're all really tired and hot, so I am sure this is going to make for an interesting experience. The weather here is probably 95 and 80% humidity.

I'm getting to know lots of the other volunteers, but there are still a few that I haven't even met yet. I have some pictures to post, but I don't have my camera card with me right now. I'll post more later.

Things are going great and it's really looking like we're going to get to head to Honduras July 22nd.

Happy 4th to everyone!

Well, my journey has finally begun and there have already been some kinks along the way. First of all, the past couple of weeks have been so emotionally draining that I cannot even begin to describe that feeling. Monday and Tuesday, I was so nervous, I couldn't eat and my stomach hurt like I've never felt before. I kept questioning myself as to why I'm doing this.

Monday afternoon, the Peace Corps office in Washington, D.C., called and told me that Tuesday (yesterday) I would be still going to Miami for Staging (introduction and orientation to PC), but that we would be going to the Dominican Republic instead of Honduras. Wow. Big change in plans.

If you haven't seen the news lately, on Sunday afternoon there was a coup where the military arrested the President of Honduras. Since then lots of things have gone done, but all in all, Peace Corps made the decision that we should hold off on our entry into Honduras. They came up with a plan to send us to the Dominican Republic for a tentative 3 weeks where we will begin training as scheduled. Only now, in the Caribe!! (Which I am pumped about!) Most of the PC staff from Honduras will be joining us in D.R. for a couple of weeks to get us started. Because of the sudden change of plans, they were not able to buy plane tickets to get us all on the same plane to D.R. today. We are traveling there in 4 groups. One group left today. My group is leaving at 4 a.m. tomorrow (not pumped about that), and the other 2 groups will leave on later flights tomorrow. Meanwhile, we're hanging out in Miami.

Yesterday was an extremely long day with saying goodbye to family, almost missing my flight, getting to Miami, then sitting through hours of Staging, which really wasn't that bad. Our group is quite different than I had imagined. I thought there would be more hippie-type, but really most everyone is really normal. I was also surprised by the ages of all of us. Of course, I haven't met everyone yet (there are 51 of us), but most of the group is straight out of college. Maybe that's a generalization, but I feel older than a lot of these people. There are a couple of older people with us too though, including a couple from AZ. There are also 2 or 3 married couples. I'm really looking forward to getting to know everyone. The teacher in me is coming out, because I've already learned a majority of everyone's names. Haha. It's kinda sad.

I'm going to go play in Miami. Hopefully South Beach. :) I'll be in the Dominican tomorrow. I will have wireless internet there, so I will be sure to update as to where the road will take us next.

Flexibility is key in a successful Peace Corps experience. I'm perfectly fine with the flexibility I'm having to maintain right now. That flexibility is taking me to a Caribbean island that I wasn't planning on seeing, and I'm totally okay with that.

I miss my dog Maya so much already. I think I'm going to miss her more than just about anyone else (except for my mom maybe).

I leave in 27 days.... I have moved out of my apartment and sold lots of my stuff, but I still have lots more to do. These next few days are going to fly. There will be lots of goodbyes, tears, and hugs.

Right now I am in Colorado visiting a friend. Before that, I was in Montana visiting another friend. This trip has been a good distraction from the waiting and preparing that is to come in the next few weeks.

I'm freaking out. Not nervous, but it's a strange reality that I am going to be leaving for 27 months. Crazy!

Check out some pics from my trip if you'd like:

Album 1Album 2

Today was the last day of school. I will miss my kids tons....

Love all you guys.

I leave in 58 days. 

Today my mom tried to talk me out of going into the Peace Corps. She's starting to freak out because I guess she is realizing how close it is getting. 

When I was studying abroad in the fall of 2007, I made a list of ambitions and things that I want to do in my life. A few of them included:-Get a master's degree-Be a teacher-Live outside of the U.S. for a period of time

I graduate from graduate school next weekend with my masters degree in education. I have been a 7th grade teacher for the past year, and I love it, and I am about to embark on a journey of living outside the U.S. for a period of time. 27 months to be exact. None of these things were put on that list in hopes of accomplishing them in the near future, more so down the road, but suddenly 3 of the major ones have been crossed off the list. And almost effortlessly. How has that even happened? 

I need to make more lists. Maybe those things will fall into place just as easily. (hopefully hopeful.)

I am moving out of my apartment in about 3 more weeks in preparation to move to Honduras 4 weeks after that. I will be keeping my stuff in a storage unit for 2 years for a total of about $1700. Is it worth it? I am beginning to think that I should sell it all. 

Last week was spring break and my friend Callie and I ventured down to Puerto Rico. I forgot how much I have missed Latin culture and also all the frustrations that come along with it... I was really excited to get to practice my Spanish, but almost everyone on the island spoke English as well, so when I did try to speak Spanish, they would look at me like I was retarded and answer me in English. Why is that such a source of pride for some people? You really and truly aren't even speaking your true native language, but rather one of the oppressors. Why is there room to be prideful about a gringa speaking your so-called "first language"?

Puerto Ricans were the most on-time Latins that I have ever come in contact with. They try to be on time to events and things like a ferry leaving the port. I was very surprised by this. Not everyone held true to this though.... they say, "I am not slow, you are just in a hurry." True. It is so interesting to take a step back and look at culture: my own and someone else's. America is such a culture of instaneous reactions and results. Time moves faster here in the States.

Another thing I had forgotten about Latin culture is how social everything in life is. You can't just read a sign for directions, you have to ask someone. Then that person gives you directions to a half-way point, where you find another person to get you a little further along the road. You have to ask people for anything and everything you need, and nothing is ever as easily found as it would have been labeled at home. So along the way, you meet people. You interact with them, learn their names, and enter into their world, if only for a glimpse.

All this makes me excited and ready to be venturing into a new culture. I am ready to begin forming new relationships and live in a culture with so much social interaction, that I am probably going to be screaming for solitude.

95 days until packing up my life for Honduras.

I received my invitation today and I will be headed to Honduras on June 30, 2009 and I will serve until September 16, 2011. 

Wow. Is this really happening?

Yayyyyy!

Yesterday I received a call from the Peace Corps office in Washington, D.C. After a brief talk with my placement officer, she wished me congratulations and said that my invitation to serve is in the mail! I have a leave date of late June to Central or South America. I should hear any day now!

Apparently my timeline went rather quickly. I hear that it takes most people much, much longer to complete this grueling application process. Mine went:

-November(ish): completed application and references

-December 23, 2008: interview with recruiter

-December 30, 2008: nomination for the PC

-January 13, 2009: received my medical packet

-January 14, 2009: went to the doctor, dentist, and eyedoctor

-end of January 2009: repeat of many tests, blood work, etc.

-February 7, 2009: Peace Corps received my medical packet

-February 10(ish), 2009: dental clearance

-Febrary 19, 2009: medical clearance

-March 2, 2009: I'm invited!!!

-March 3, 2009: waiting for invitation :)

I'm very excited and emotional about all of this. I sat down and wrote my resignation today and turned it into my school principal. It's weird that I am leaving and not coming back here (at least for a few years).

Now the packing begins.....

:)

I leave in a little over 3 months. This is going to fly by.

My file is "under medical review." How long could this possibly take?!? I am dying to find out where I am going.

I have never felt how I feel right now. I am stuck in between two worlds: the one I'm living in now and the one I'm waiting to join (for 27 months).

I have applied and been nominated to serve in the Peace Corps with a prospective leave date of late June 2009 to either Central or South America. I have sent in my medical and dental reviews and I am just ready and waiting for what will come next.

So what do I do in the meantime? Well, I am continuing my job teaching Spanish to 7th graders in a public middle school in Huntsville, AL. I am so torn because every day I deepen relationships here and love my job more and more, but I know that in a few short months, I will be leaving all of this to start something brand new. This brings about such mixed emotions. I am nervous and excited all the same. I feel so lonely and disconnected already because I guess I am preparing myself, my emotions to leave all that I know and love here. How do you prepare yourself for this?

I honestly don't know, nor can I describe how I feel right now and the millions of thoughts that run through my head on a daily basis.

I guess this is a test of patience as I wait to see what is next: where I will go and when I will do so.....