2009--Are we ready?

I realize I haven't updated the blog since october.
I guess I fell off the blog wagon so to speak...

Here are some pics por lo menos and a brief update on how I have been during a unexpectedly muy pumpkiny November (I still have a 103 ounce can of pumpkin in the fridge, which I can't seem to make a dent in no matter how many pumpkin muffins I cook up and give away...

Below is my girl Patí, making banana tacos for the honduran cookbook I and some of the expert cooks in my town have been working on:









Next is a pic of the Holiday Bizarre at the US Embassy in Teguc. where various groups producing local craft-like work and supported by PCVs went to sell their products to the employees of the Embassy and anyone else who might have someone gotten into the Embassy past all the security. Overall it was a really successful event and the young, small business owners that came with me from our Asociacion de Microempresas AMICCOH in Cabañas all enjoyed themselves and we all definitely learned alot about our products and what else is being produced in the country. It was def a good way to motivate the group.

We plan to go to a feria in El Salvador early next year...In the mean time Jorgito is making me some CowGirl boots similar to the ones in the pic below:


With the same group of small business owners from AMICCOH, Laura (a near-by Business Volunteer), and I put together a two-day workshop on business basics and how to create a business plan. The workshop was alot of work, but Laura was great and the group we had from Cabañas and two other municipios were equally great to work with. Here's a group shot and one of us doing a dínamica called: prestame un martillo, where the participants have to pretend to hammer, iron, and then become a human blender...it's a bit hard to explain actually...





So that's it for now.
Currently in Tegucigalpa for a meeting to present the Project Citizen dillustrasions. I'll let you know how it goes...and hopefully post some of the designs.

Which Witch is Which? --or-- el dia de las bujas --or-- one sore looser loosing faith + September Thought-Box

October
10.02.08
There are witches here in Copan. So I am told. The Mayas had witches and practiced witchcraft, friends of cabañas inform me...even though all I know of the Mayas is their sun gods and honey gods, their water and earth and have-a-good-harvest gods…that they lived with the earth instead of against it, invented the calender, were masters of astrology, built intensly complex civilizations, and that...en fin the Spanish came, kicked their butts, killed their innocents with bullets or disease and built a church. Converted them to their faith, and left them believing.
Let’s jump forward to the present. Many people here have a severed view on their true ancestors, attributing only negative characteristics to los indios (Indians), when that is who they come from…why is dark “ugly” and light “beautiful”? Where does that come from? All this I am currently contemplating and confronting because I want to throw a Halloween event in my town.

The halloween event plan: A noche cultural (a night of traditional dances, jokes, food, with trick-or-treating in my town followed by a scavenger hunt and a dance party). The plan for the morning: a hike from Cabañas to Copan Ruinas (where the annual Halloween party is taking place). The slogan is: I do it the hard way. I have the t-shirts designed and ready to print. The food paid for by a local NGO. The decorations donated from friends and family from home. The kids in the dance troop and in the school band ready to go. The local mariachi band composing a song about funny things gringos do. The local women ready to cook up some plato tipico with empenadas and ticukos as extras. A place for us to sleep, 30 some sleeping mats and fans for the lending…the hike mapped out and a handful of tour guides to lead the way…

Alas, now there is to be Major drama over whether the Halloween event will even take place in my town, how it will take place, who will support it and who will not.
The drama all started yesterday with a late night phone call from Javier Mata (member of tourism committee) who told me that he could not participate in the event because the pastor and those of the congregation are going to protest. Going to try and convince the mayor that we will be patronizing with witches. It is so ridiculous. Or, rephrase that, I think it is ridiculous. Apparently the pastor is afraid that witches will come or posses the American volunteers. He wants “his people” (2 thousand and total he tells me)to protest and block the road so that we may not enter into the town… I’m worried, I really can’t afford to loose the support and confidence of the people in my town, that is very important to me. I’ve worked a year for just that.


10.05.08
Cool breath, tight squeeze, now you’ve got the shivers.
Today I escaped to La Cumbre San Lucas Farm to see my friends Delila y Eva Lidia. I really feel at ease up there. The temperature is cooler. Its far away from Cabañas. There you don’t have to see anyone if you don’t want to. Solitary. Small town chisme (gossip) can be unbearable! But even up in the mountains, in my escape, I heard on the radio that same pastor telling people to pray one hour each day so that the witches dont come.
When I got back down into town, Griedy, Rudy, and two other little girls came over to draw in my house per usual. They asked me more stuff about what the pastor had been saying about me, asked me if I was a witch, if I was going to bake them a cake that gave them nightmares. I sadly explained to them that their pastor was confused, and it was just lies, mentiras… The kids drew their pictures and I worked on the two logos I needed to finish for the next day. We cooked a little dinner of fried plantans and fresh squeezed orange juice and I spread out a blanket for our meager picnic. I didn´t have salsa so the girls dipped their tajadas in soy sauce and actually loved it!
Also, I got my first tick today, in the ankle! It was really big and I had to use tweezers and slowly pull to try and get the bugger out. It took a few minutes but eventually it had to let go or loose its 3-pronged head. Perhaps we are all as stubborn as a tick?

10.06.08
Monday. Today I heavy heartedly went to the municipalidad to get the official word about the Halloween event from Napo the mayor. As I had suspected—Cancelled.
He said he didn’t want to cause unrest in the town or problems for me... Some sixty to seventy people went to his house to demand he cancel the event. The pastor had convinced everyone that witches were coming...

Thus my life here will just continue, all the plans and potential for tourism flushed down the drainn for now, but I will not make a fuss of it. It has been a few days of really bad feelings, and last night was surely the bottom, but what can I expect, for everything to go my little gringa way? Hardly…

But as my older sister knows, I’m a really sore looser.



What September entailed –or-
What’s in your thought box?

el Día del Nino
Here in Honduras they celebrate el Día del Niño the 10th of September. It is kind of like a birthday party for every child in town since many do not get to feel very special on their actual birthdays (due to families’ financial situation). Instead of birthdays for each child, every child’s life is celebrated on the 10th, usually during school, or somewhere in the town.
The 9th and 10th of September was (for me) el dia del nino. The 9th I, Elma, Obeniel, and Ellen went to Haciendo San Juan to visit the small group of students of the one-room school house they have there. My favorite part of the whole trip (besides the kids dancing with oranges squeezed between their foreheads and seeing them full-body swing at the piñata) was talking with Oscar’s (the community leader) 17yr old son on the way back as he diligently led my horse along the trail. We talked about all aspects of life, and about what it is to really be poor. In the country vs in the city kind of poverty. Food and health. Electricity vs happiness. I don’t see poverty when I look at the people of his small rural community. I just don’t. I don’t feel bad for them. I think they honestly have a beautiful little town and all their teeth looked really healthy compared to most the kids in the casco urbano. (Probably because there are no pulperias where they can buy dulces every hour) I’ve only been there a handful of times and for only a few hours each time and thus I couldn’t possibly know their health problems, or any of the struggles they may have…but even so…. My question is, are people who do development work always seeking to see poverty? Or label things as poor or not poor? I just don’t trust people who, I don’t know, think they can shoot out a sappy email, get money sent from the states, and poop out some proyectito in a community…without ever speaking to the people…and is there no scale to measure the positive vs. negative of such breeds of development work?

Perhaps such self-imposed uneasiness is a result that my entire thought-box has changed, it’s like all the kinds of thoughts I used to think fit in one box, and now, all the things I think, are from another box completely.


09.17.08
Dear God, please send 50,000 lempira so we can build improved stoves in a poor town…
How can they, anyone, expect us to start from scratch, from nothing, and create a stove, or a schoolhouse, or a new economic opportunity? Is that what is really expected of a volunteer? In my case, I have been asking for financial support from local NGOs, who are getting their funds from Church groups in the United States. Basically, we are all depending on the generosity and business-like functions of the Ole´American Church. Its so very strange to think about, when you really actually think about where the money, and thus the “scratch” is coming from…

Last night in our grupo intercambio, I and my friends in town got on the subject of people who go to the US to work, illegally. And ya know, it finally hit me for the first time just how judgmental I’ve been on that matter, I, who has always had whatever opportunity I could ask for, who has Never wanted for anything in my entire life, not even now…and I couldn’t help but see things (at least slightly) from the perspective of someone who has NO apparent opportunities to find in their area, in their town or perhaps in their entire country! Who didn’t have an education because their parents did not have one, and you don’t need to know how to read to work on the farm with your dad. But ya know, they will never make any real money in their lives. They will never be able to build their own houses from materials they themselves picked out, on land, they bought…they wont ever have money to buy a car, or a nice outfit, or different food for a change. They wont ever, ever go on a vacation. Wont ever travel.
…..And here I am, waiting for NGOs funded by churches to give me money to give a few women and kids some cookies and soda and try to inspire them to develop tourism in their town, even though I’m not 100 % sure how to do it either…or if it will even work. It’s just an idea after all.
I´ve come to the conclusion that pretty much you can’t do development work without raising money…like the guy at CASM, Juan, told me today, there is tons of work, tons of projects, or potential for both…its just a question of getting money to do it…

...and so I´ve recently been bombarded with thoughts about how to raise money...like instead of buying a pair of Seven jeans, donate the money to a school so they can have a mini reading area...Or uniforms...OR instead of buying a drink at the bar for seven bucks, or a double skinny latte at Starbucks, put that money in a jar at the bar and then use the entire crowd´s money from that one night/day to fund a letrine project...

Capacitation-ing - or - The Art of the Charla – or – How to Integrate in 360 days – or – the Mitzvah finger puppet kit

08.08.08
The Loroco Rock

This AM at 5:30 I went to purchase loroco (local edible flower) in Bo. el Tigre with Olfania, the lil sis of Elma. I took pictures of the white flower and the petit woman as she climbed up the slippery log ladder to pick the flowers from the canopy upon which they grow and then toss them down to her awaiting daughter who collected them one by one. Back in mi casa I added a section on the freshly picked flower to the cookbook's layout. (I started a new project for me-myself-and I: a Traditional Copan/Honduran Cookbook)
After that, I went with Monchito to visit the Mayan Chorti Goat Farm Project. There we talked with brother Herman about his collaboration with a group of women in la Pintada, Copan to see if they would give Capacitationes to our group of Chorti women. (The Chortis are an indigenous group here in Honduras, basically the descendants of the Mayan Indians) Herman was keen on the idea and said that we could even do the workshop at the finca! So that is the plan as of now—teach our Chorti woman of Cabañas how to make dolls out of tusa (dried corn husk) and other crafts to sell in their future microempresa (small business).
After that we went to the Monitores de Salud (health monitors) meeting to find me two counterparts to go to the Taller Emergencias Obstétricas in Gracias, Lempira this upcoming Tuesday. Finally found two women willing to go, and so I sent the info to those organizing the taller and I guess we are off this Tuesday to Gracias.

***

The second Project Citizen session in the elementary school in Bo. Morazan went great this past tuesday, the kids really liked the activities I did with them, were appropriate and very participativos…so that was great. I didn’t have time to finish all we needed to do before I leave for next week, and so I am going in tomorrow to talk them through the next step: Identifying the problems in the community.

English Classes in Bo. Morazon are also advancing and I have pretty much left the PC TEAM manual in the dust, but will refer back to it again sometime. I need to think of some different ways to engage the students, esp. since the levels are so uneven in some cases. Here that is a huge problem…how the learning process can be hindered because some kids slow others down…it must be frustrating for all: The quick and the slow. I can only imagine…they hardly have enough teachers let alone time and resources available to divide the kids into levels of advancement.

08.15.08
Get into the groove. It’s a Mitzvah!
So after a rough start in August I am now officially learning my trade. Who I am and what I am suppose to be doing here. I guess it does take about a year to integrate, 365 days, give or take a few.
First thing first, you’ve gotta be able to communicate. And not just in the local language, but in the local customs. Speaking Spanish only gets you halfway in the door, you’ve got to speak it in the way of the people with whom you are addressing—or you might as well be speaking it backwards, or with a big post-it on your forehead that reads: you may find me to be slightly retarded or stupid, but just smile back please. That is that.
***
Today will forever be known as the Honduran Mitzvah, because today is the day that I met Ellen. A real nice Gringa y Jewish lady who never leaves home without gummy finger puppets in her purse and used to play bass guitar in a church band.
Anyway, Ellen is going to be working in the Copan area helping raise funds for educational projects. She came to Cabañas because she somehow heard about a project for a kindergarten in Montagua. It turned out, the price for a school was too much for her or her group, but I’m going to work with Obeniel to see if we can do a proposal for a school where the Municipalidad provides one portion of the funding/materials and her group donates another. Small projects are what she is interested in instead of doing something really big, so we can get some projects done and documented and then perhaps do a bigger project… She was very emotional in meeting me, saying she had been waiting to find me, and had goosebumps. I guess she rrreally wants to help out. It’s actually a perfect team because I have the contacts now in the community that took me a yr to make and she has the pisto and the ability to get more of it! Score, no? Double win? We will see, right?

Anyway, after I had that brief and unexpected meeting, there was the meeting of the corporation municipal, and in that I presented the tourism project and had juan monroy sign the compromiso so that we may pass for his property, make new cenderos (paths), make different places where the tourists can rest, ect, ect. …Napo said one day he, I and monchito will go to Teguc to present our project to the Institute of Turismo, and try to secure funding for it…so I will have to have some stuff prepared for that and bug Napo so that it happens. Then Lastenia from the OGN of OCDIH showed up and she gave me the list for the participantes for the capacitacion that we will have here for the mujeres that are going to be learning how to make Tusa dolls for the microempresa they will establish…so that is todo cheque. Once I get the go ahead from brother Herman, we will teach our ladies how to be crafty!

Anyway, all and all, a really good day. No hay luz. But did go for a run and took the icy cold shower that I know, a year before, would’ve brought me near tears. I am proud. Will not hide it.

08.17.08
On the floor
I don’t know why, even though I now have furniture that I am still happiest in my house when I’m sprawled out on the cold tile floor…could be that the floor is kept muy clean, that its my house, that this is my only true home in the world. It’s so crazy to think about that Home=honduras and job=community development worker.

Went off to Copan today to meet with the only other blue-eyed blond-haired Jew in Honduras, Ellen, who with the help of churches is going to do some projects in the schools of Cabañas. Backs are both scratched, and she said she would like to help me with funds for my cookbook, so that is really exciting, it could really happen!
From idea to accion, in just one brief meeting.

***

I was thinking today, as I cleaned my all-tile floor, how I love this job, how I can’t imagine doing any other kind of work…getting to connect with people, in all the frustrating and rewarding ways that can happen, and also getting to use my talents when ever I can…its great.
Big question for the day: Is fund raising an essential part of development work? Is that really sustainable? Will the buzz word always be sustainable?… Not so sure… but at least its helping the schools. And that is something I felt was missing from my service.


08.23.08
And the high rolls on
It’s nice to be home. And mean it. A bit of sweeping, vegi-cleaning, cereal and detergent buying, con una caja de jugo de naranja en el refi and I’m all set…I wont jump right back into work, give myself the rest of the day to unwind post-taller...

The workshop, Emergencias Obstétricas, done through the PeaceCorps’ health program, run by Helmuth was the best capacitation I’ve been to thus far. Not only was the material interesting, well presented, and extremely applicable and important for Honduras’ most remote communities, but the people + counterparts there were really great.
I brought a monitora de salud, Nelly de Carmen from Peñas I and a Partera (midwife) from las Lomas, Maria Valle. I didn’t know them at all before this, I’d seen Maria Valle before in meetings, but never Nelly. Maria had a great attitude the whole time and I feel like I really lucked out with her.
The last day of the capacitation we did a practica in one of the nursing schools there and it actually went a lot smoother than I thought it would…
That evening we had a nice dinner and then the diplomas were presented. We also had to create a plan de accion with our counterparts for how we are going to implement the project in our sites. For our team, we decided we could do a session during the monthly monitores de salud meetings in el centro de salud. So I actually think it will be implemented here with little resistence if we can truly blend into those meetings that are already existing…I will talk to the nurses at the health center tomorrow…

08.27.08
Today was the second part to a capacitation/modulo/civics class 101 about the political parties here in Honduras and the history of corrupt leaders and the wack voting system that has existed for years and is just recently being modified to be more, eh, democratic! Oh the word poder…power and politics, what the hell is power and politics anyway…just another way to end up in war. Tranquil existence was obviously not our species’ destiny. I honestly thought today, why did we evolve to where we are, these utterly ridiculous systems and complicated ways to win and loose money, and live and die…has anything our species accomplished, or accidentally stumbled upon actually benefited us or the earth’s existence? Not to mention other species? ….deep, deep sigh.

***
Ermas came over tonight for grupo intercambio, even though it was the second time this week that only he came…thanks ladies! Way to get the band back together again! He went off on this tangent about hanging out with his friends in the barn in the back of the pick-up truck just drinking beers and talking and talking and just being on the same page…and man do I miss that, so much!
It made me pretty damn sad because I rarely think about the kind of friendships I am missing out on while I'm here. The true deep connection you can feel with people who you know and love and can finish your thoughts/sentences and just touch in on every level and just hold your mind in their hands and put you at ease with whatever it is you are contemplating…I think a million things in a day that I can’t share with anyone here because as I told Ermas, I’m scared to offend the culture, the people…I want to yell at men here who pissst and catcall for my attention, but I can’t call them f***** pendejos because ladies just don’t talk like that…damn this environment can be suppressive! Small town life, right?
…God I miss Ben and Jerrys Chunky Monkey…I miss eating ice cream in bed and having a glass of wine. I miss walking the city blocks on cool summer nights… miss feeling sexy and alive, miss being a woman in America, never thought I would understand what that really meant, leave it to a small Honduran village in the western part of the country to teach me who I am, who I can’t ever be, who I would like to be, one day…

08.29.08
Charla-ing – or the Art of the Charla
I’m where I ought to be perhaps, discovering my own charla-ing power.(A Charla is kinda like giving a lecture) Though yesterdays Project Citizen session didn’t go as well as I would’ve hoped, I blame the material more so than the students or I…though they were not sooo attentive this time. The way I see it, doing it this time around I am definitely learning what works and what doesn’t work—the activities that are best understood, and useful for the project, and thus this will help me when I implement it in centro basico, which is where I’d like to go next with it.

This morning I went over to the centro de salud to do the first charla from the capacitation for emergencies obsetricas that we went to Gracias to learn. The two other women who went with me were not at the meeting so they could not participate, but hopefully next time I will give them a call ahead of time so we may have something prepared as a team. The little charla went really well, and I can feel myself becoming a better speaker in front of the Hondurans, a few frases clavos and you can present almost any tema (topic) better. It’s also a question of intonation, and knowing how to build up a question and then give the response, also how to fish the audiences out for a response—these are all skills I am learning here…I guess I’m honestly learning how to be a better public speaker, which is a huge part of the job. Being motivational tambíen, doesn’t hurt.

So today I’ve gone from preparing for grupo intercambio to English classes to tourism comitee reunions to proyecto ciudadano sessions to proyectos pequenos escolares proposals to emergencia obstetricas charlas…what next? It’s great though to be able to accumulate projects one-by-one and hopefully realize something in the end. Whatever, whenever the end may be. . .

Se pone uno a chupar los dedos

07.23.08
Today was another busy day where I felt mostly on my feet, my aching feet. Not that I’m complaining. When the rain gives me enough time to walk from one point to another without falling, believe me, I am grateful. I imagine that the roads as well are grateful for a chance to give the people a good couple of hours to shovel dirt where a tree used to be, but now is nothing but a hole, well, a landslide is more like it….
That is what I passed by today on my way to give a workshop on Project Citizen in one of the schools across the underwater bridge (see pic) and up the mudslide mountain. I saw a man, who looked about 50 maybe 60 yrs old, along with his wife and their two small children—all shoveling dirt from the hillside to try and temporarily fill in this huge gap in the dirt road that was storm-by-storm degrading into the farm valley below. That was the fifth or sixth spot along the road that looked like that. Others had one or two entire trees uprooted and laying in the way. Or the occasional huge chunks of red rock that had dislodged from the hillside blocking the way. Today a few of the trees’ trunks were being made into firewood for the fogones.
And the Workshop with the teachers? Well, after the one male teacher of the group basically cut me off in mid sentence to ask me if we could end the capacitacíon early and not continue until Monday, even though it was them who solicited the project, and agreed to the capacitatíon…I was feeling a bit, um, dejected. Had to again remind myself, everyone else is just trying to do their normal job without too much extra effort, without volunteering for too much. Like most people in any place in the world, they would actually like to make their lives easier, not harder. Silly me…
So…my dejection and I walked back home the long way; down the mountainside through another neighborhood where the abuelita of my host family lives, alone in her little house with a beautiful avocado-and-lemon-tree-filled backyard. I think she is such a beautiful woman, with her wrinkle-free almond-sheen cheeks, brilliant green eyes and thick lasso of black hair down to her butt. She of course invited me in and we spoke of the poor conditions of the roads, the storms, the rains malice, and how a woman gets used to living alone. (Since we are both in the same waterlogged boat.) She had a basket of the lemons and avocados from her trees sitting in the kitchen and began to fill a plastic rice sack with the ripe ones for me to take home. It dawned on me, even before today, that you just give people what you have because the earth has given it to you, and you can’t possibly consume it all, and thus it will go to waste, so it is with a fully generous and open heart that you give to your family and friends. This is how people do not go hunger. With the earth and human love naturally intertwined and…yes, generosity. Unquestionable. Its moving.
Another thing, the women here always seem to miraculously have something cooking on the fogón, a big soup, a big pot of beans, a heap of tortillas, a kettle of coffee, warm milk and rice with cinnamon…this too, is to share, to bestow upon not only your family, but your next unexpected guest who is surely far from home, or doesn’t really know when their next meal will be that day. The soup was made for these unexpected yet perfectly expected guests. There really is no such thing as extra, all and nothing is extra. And those who can’t afford to give to the visitors? If all things follow the good nature of the system, they are receiving a visitor who has too many mangos in their trees.

And to think, all my food used to come from the supermarket…and it was Organic! Ha…


India Bonita
07.22.08
This past Sunday was the national holiday el Día de Lempira (Lempira, who the money here is named after, was an Heroic Indian Warrior who fought against the conquistadors, but eventually bit it to the Spanish bullet). The day was filled with preparations for el concurso de la India Bonita. (Competition for the prettiest Indian.) I had been helping out the maestros of the community of Llano, and thus became really attached to our dress winning! Alas, we did not… I was obviously biased, but thought for sure we would win…for the details…but when I saw all the other robes, I realized we ALL thought the same thing…and it was really great to see how much effort everyone put into the event and the dresses and the pride that is involved in all of it. We used a shit load of glue to stick the all-natural materials (beans, corn, feathers, pine needles, flowers, seeds, hair…) onto the fabric. If it had been a contest for the heaviest robe, we would’ve won, hands down. The poor niña who was our India bonita could barely walk in it! Anyway, see the pics for all the hard work we put into that thing!


Five seconds of Juramentacíon and Julio’s wisdom.
07.16.08
Waiting for pasta to cook. I just came back from a visit with Flor and Julio. Sometimes I think Julio really gets it, more than anyone else here. It’s odd because he is one of the few people who will say things that make me really uncomfortable, but that are true just the same. I think we all need that person to put us on the edge every once in awhile. You need different kinds of people who mix with you in different ways to keep you churning around. Anyway, Julio and I talked a lot about immigration to the United States. About what it is to work hard; To be satisfied with your life; To know what makes you happy; The power of your own thoughts. The way you can be positive and survive it all. And patience. This is key. He says that some nights at church he gives speeches about staying in Honduras and making life better here, rather than running away to the United States to work like a slave in dangerous conditions, without any rights, without doctors, or a sense of security. Living with fear. I wish there were more Honduran people who thought like him. Who gave inspiring speeches that touched such themes.

Yesterday I was extremely nervous about the Juramentacíon del comité de turismo. I am always a bit out of the loop about how the stuff will go down. But in the end, it wasn’t Napo (our mayor) who did the Juramentacion, it was Jose Alberto Salzar, my landlord! Who is also an official regidor for the la comision. (It’s like a board of directors who works with the mayor to make decisions about projects and funding for the municipio and report back to the national government) Entonces, we were only missing three people from the group, but the majority of those voted onto the comité were there; the ones who held the most important roles—my core group of guys. I took a foto to commemorate the event.
The juramentacíon ceremony involved everyone touching the Honduran flag and taking an oath to work towards the project…and that was it! 5 seconds of touching a flag after I had spent all morning and that week fretting over the affair. But that 5 seconds was enough to prove their dedication, and in a way, their faith and support of me and the project. Yes, we are now official

VACA... all i ever wanted!

Israel, amazing:












Paris, oh la la...











check out the rest of the pics @ Flickr, just click on the mini pics to the upper right |-->

Just shy of a year in country, amazing.

Proyecto Ciudadano
In the start of May, I and my muy muy amiga/colleague, Elma, traveled to Tegucigalpa to join my fellow Muni-D volunteers and counterparts for a workshop on Proyecto Ciudadano (Project Citizen- A civic education program developed by the US Center for Civic Education for schools in Central and Latin America to teach kids how to recognize problems in their communities and how to come up with their own public policies to solve these community-based problems.)

Our Project Director has been leading the effort to create a new+improved Honduran-stylized Manual for Project Citizen. I have been asked to do the illustrations for this manual. So far we have had several meetings to collaborate with two NGOs of Honduras (FOPRIDEH, OFALAN) and USAID. Now we are waiting for those collaborating with us to step up and do some of the rewriting, so that we can finalize the content and then work on the new format. It’s been a bit drawn out process-wise, but I’m used to that by now…

Elma and I are actually not planning on using the program in the schools (as of yet) because I could not get any of the teachers to give me four days of their time. To be fair, it’s not like they could get substitutes and Teguc seems insanely (un-godly) far away for everyone in my town…entonces…the plan? Via the Comision Ciudadano de la Transperancia (CCT = citizen transparency council) we are going to do the workshop with the newly elected Controlores Sociales. These community members were recently elected to monitor the projects being implemented in their communities using the ERP funds (Government Funds specifically destined for projects to relieve extreme poverty in the country) These Monitors will be asking questions such as: Are the projects being executed by the community members? Are the materials being delivered and used for their intended purpose? Is there any type of corruption going on during this process? Ect…

It’s all about getting rid of the sticky fingers and deep pockets of the government (at least on the local-level.) Basically Elma and I, along with the CCT and the NGO CASM are going to use Project Citizen to teach these Monitors how to identify problems in the community that are the fault of bad or non-existent public policy. We are thus empowering these Controlores with the knowledge of how to draft a proposal for a new public policy and how to present such to the appropriate local authority. The end goal? Having people in these rural communities aware of their own capacity to implement change in their lives; imparting the importance of their rights and responsibilities; and recognizing the problem, the solution, and the appropriate steps to achieve positive reform. Be it improving two houses that needed new roofs, or petitioning for a whole new water system to be installed—these problems have very obtainable/reasonably simple solutions and with a few strong leaders in the community armed with the right information, improvement is obtainable. We hope.

Escondido
Moncho and I went to visit yet another community the second week of May with a potential tourist attraction. A waterfall positioned very close to the cascada of Naranjales where we went in April. Here we found a birds nest hidden behind the churro of water. Appropriately, “Escondido” is the name of this particularly charming waterfall. From the waterfall we hiked back towards the community of Naranjales, past a really interesting farming project funded by the NGO of PRODERT. This purely organic farm is built with ERP and NGO funding and then the grains and animals are on loan by PRODERT. The project is done with the intention of the farm owners eventually being able to pay them back and make a profit to live off of. Here the family invited us in for lunch. (We enjoyed fried fish, which they ran to catch out of their fish farms (Pisceras) and all the just-picked ingredients, which made up an impressively huge almuerzo.)The first winter storm was threatening to start and so we ran through the coffee fields and up the mountain to a friend of the family’s house, making it to the porch just as the hail started to fall.
I have to say storms here just feel different. One has the impression that the roof is always about to collapse. (Sadly, in many situations, that is exactly what happens when the wood is rotted or the aluminum too old or poorly installed.) I have never been so inspired and moved by storms. But here, the lights always go out and thus, the forces of nature have the undivided attention of all of your senses.

El día de la Madre
The second Domingo in May is el celebracíon del día de la Madre here in Honduras as well as back home. Mother’s day is HUGE here. It reminds me of Christmas! (obv. without the tree) I went the day before the celebration to visit my friends up at the farm on la Cumbre San Lucas. (“cumbre” is a mountaintop)
Here I sat back in awe as the women of three generations prepared an insane amount of food. I watched them stir a giant bucket of dough to make homemade bread in their traditional clay-earth oven. The one man that was part of the meal preparation was chopping away at an entire pig body just killed that morning. A cousin was stirring a smoking pot over an open fire filled with pure pig fat to make chicharrónes (pork rinds). The grandmother was sorting through a pile of banana tree leaves, tearing them into rectangular-shaped pieces to wrap the tamales in later. Another sister was stirring a huge vat of ground cornmeal, milk, butter, salt, and seasoning to make the tamale batter. Another girl was mixing a pot of deep red tamale meat sauce on the stove. The mother of my friends was preparing café with one hand and flipping tortillas with the other while supervising the pig cutting efforts—all with an expert’s eye. My close friend Eva Lidia was making the cheese, which involves using a cheesecloth to separate-out the white curdled part of the milk from the transparent-yellow liquid that remains after the cuajada (cheese curdle) is separated out. She then put the mound of curdle on the grinding stone and kneaded away, making three separate, soft, round balls of cheese. So much work went into preparing for this meal. Queens of the kitchen, la casa—is how the women in Honduras are called—and it is undoubtedly true. They are some of the most exceptional caregivers I have ever seen…vive la madre!

Invierno
This past week the signs of winter’s approach suddenly appeared:
The rain of winged-ants, black and red beetles, huge toads, and gecko poop. I feel like I’m in Egypt! I spotted a chiquito baby gecko behind my toothbrush this morning, named him Oliver. It makes it extremely hard to fall asleep with the swarming of the bugs…I read somewhere that this is their final attempt to mate before the winter storms come (estacion de las lluvias). We already had a bunch of storms last week, and thus the end to consistent luz and agua is upon us…with the rains comes fickle times. A positive note is my little garden has finally begun to really blossom! I had been dowsing the plants with water at least once a day in the summer months, and now…Mother Nature is doing the work for me!

Y Tambíen…I just started giving English classes in one of the neighborhoods up the hill on Mondays and Wednesday before the group I already have. Its mostly boys so, so far its been interesting…At least their catcalls will be grammatically correct if I have anything to do with it! And I love making wanna-be cowboys sing their ABCs!
Saturday its up the mountain again to take some measurements for a new water system that the just-arrived volunteer in Copan is going to help me with! Yeah collaboration!

Then next week I’m going to a reunion in Sta. Rosa to meet all the volunteers in my area and to seek out potentially more collaboration. ( And to beg Peace Corps for a bike…)
Besides that it’s Earth day next Sat. and so the logo I did will be on the t-shirts and banners for that and we will have a kids’ posters contest. Should be good times. The kids have been practicing their drawing skills at mi casa and I’ve been feeding them all the candy that people give me (terrible!! I know! But I also tell them to brush their teeth!)

WANTONLY

April Cascadas:

Life is a simple equation that we tend to complicate with trivial things…the stuff we call our stuff. Then there´s the emotional system between people, what we call support. How that works, I´m just not sure, I don´t think it can be explained in words, but is an interchange of gestures and conversations, a wantonly-kind of give and take that in the end, boils down to all the different kinds of love we can experience.

04.21.08
Today is my first full day back @ site after a 4 day trip to Teguc and back. Its always a little rough the first couple of days back in site, the readjustment back to campo-life…but I think its just a bit of loneliness barking at my heels.
I made the Rounds, visited the small collection of families and friends i´ve accumulated in the town…I know I should try to expand the circle, but it seems overwhelming to add more to the mix, I wish too though…
Emails killed me today: kate, snish, snar, dad, laura, brendan, george…missing people just suxª!

Since this Tuesday, things have gotten hectic! Deadlines and projects I care about/feel truly invested in have started to take up all my time. My bathroom falling apart and me breaking yet Another glass on the ceramic floor amidst the flood was just a bonus! (I´m not a good candidate for cermaic flooring...)

The tourism project is all-a-buzz and I´m a bit stressed to do this right. We have a meeting coming up this next Tuesday with two NGOS, Mancomunidad and Proyecto Norte to present all our potential tourist sites within the Municipio. That means I have been planning and running around trying to take pictures of everything (great time for my camera to be busted!) and not leave a soul nor community out of the loop. There are people from 3 communities claiming the same waterfall and trying to be the diplomat has been a delicate task. We´ve discovered some illegal wooding in one of the mountain ranges here that is protected, and thus reported that to our mayor. There was talk of a corrupt employee, but it seems to have been an ugly chisme rumor…pues there´s been some drama as of lately…


04.24.08
Well yesterday I smelled like burnt popcorn and goats. My first stab at making popcorn from scratch, not so hot…half burnt and the stuff left was more kernel than pop…
Earlier that day I went to explore and take pictures of the Mayan-Chorti Goat farm project and the stream and little waterfalls behind that for potentail tourism project.
Today I went to document the cuevonas (caves) we have up in the mountains. I learned an important thing about myself, I do not like caves very much…or perhaps its just the bats and their poop that made me want to get the hell out of there! Moncho and my host brother Adalid had no fear of the bats, and climbed right under their upside down heads to explore the caverns even further. I hovered as close to the ladder as possible, which was my only means of escape as the bats sweep past my face…eeeek!

04.25.08
Ella no contesto. La Carmen se fue. My little host sister packed a suitcase, wrote a note, and left when no one was at home. My host family is torn apart. The thing that is terribly hard for me to understand is the acceptance of these young girls being ¨robbed¨ (as they say here) or running off, and the families not taking action, not pursuing them, or dragging them back to la casa, as would be the case (In my normality as it was) in the States. (Then again, my mom just told me about a polygamy colony the authorities broke up in the States and all the underage girls they found there being sexually assaulted…and thus the backwards thinking can be found in every part of the world)

I know here its all a question of context, perspective, circumstance and overall culture…but its just so hard for me to accept that this beautiful, talented and intelligent 17 yr old girl would throw away all her chances at a career for some older guy she hardly knows (and that the family would not stop her)…perhaps its how we think when we are young and romantic…I know i´m not a stranger to the idea of running away…but it´s just that as someone who loves this girl and wants to protect her from the worst of the world, all I want to do is bring her back home! Her mother feels the same way, and thus is taking the appropriate actions. She is an exception to the rule, as well as her father, so I have hope that I will see her again…soon.

04.28.08
This Sunday we visited the community of Narajales (Oranges), to document the cascada they have near by. This waterfall was the most impressive I´ve seen so far…not because of its height, but for the beautiful natural swimming pool that had formed below. I borrowed a pair of shorts and dove in the muy helado (v cold) water to swim to the waterfall and climb up it in order to catch the best shots of the site.

The family of Oscar Ulloa came with us, along with other children from the community. We all had a great afternoon swimming and playing by the waterfall. The house of Oscar is also in a perfect spot to receive tourists for the terrific views! It´s truly a calm and picturesque place and I would love to share this with those who will come visit and do the tour! I just can´t believe all the stuff there is here, hidden away in the mountains, only known to a few farmers and curious kids.
In Naranjales I also got a marriage proposal from a shirt-less, campo-smelling viejito (old dude) who told me he had chickens, beans and corn and that we should get hitched…I told him it was a very tempting offer, and that I needed to take his picture so that I may send it to my father to ask his permiso (permission)…and I will definitely include that you have Chickens! The line : Tengo Guillinas (I have chickens) must be a classic here!


04.29.08
Well, like so many times in Honduras, we went to the reunion, only to find it canceled.. . so who knows when we will get to present the Tourism Presentation we all worked so hard to put together at such last minute! At least now I will have a chance to visit Mirasolito where they too claimed to have a waterfall worth mentioning. It took us all morning to get to the site where the reunion was suppose to be held, we had to take two different buses and then jalon out to the parque, and once we got there, we got to turn around and do the regresso…my coworker was more than enojada...

Tourists come to Cabanas!

The first two tourist groups have come and gone from Cabañas—and the consensus is: Que bueno!
It has really been a great time playing tour guide and sharing my litle pueblito with others! The Rural Tourism Excursion consists of a jalon ride up the mountain to the tranquilo farming community of San Manuel.

Here at the casa of Antonio Cruz we all enjoy a merienda (snack) of Tikukos (Tamale-like dish) with a tomato sauce and refresco of tamarindo. We then mount horses and ride down the mountain path to an opening where the men have made a path to the waterfalls. Here the road gets a bit rough, but the guys from the community all are there to help the tourists not to fall on their butts too much! (All parto f the fun…but we are planning to fix the path up for a less strenious hike)

We stop at three different waterfalls, the last one being a perfect place to rest and enjoy the coffee brought in thermo and homemade bread. Here we all hang out and relax in the beautiful surroundings. Then we hike along the river until we come to the clearing again and remount our horses. We ride back up to the town and do a pass of the community befote stopping to tour the finca (farm)- After that we head back to the casa of Antonio for an Almuerzo (lunch) of plato tipico, that is the best I have ever eaten! I love chimol! AFter lunch we just hang out and talk, learn a bit about the typical honduran farmer life and then eventually pile back into the truck for the trip down the mountain to casco urbano. Below are some of the pics…but look on flicker where i downloaded almost all…
I´m loving my town, life, everything right now…

Water Falling Down>>>

02.22.08
here, when I lock myself out of the house, the only way back in is through the roof.


02.23.08
Yesterday I went to see the Cascadas en San Manuel. It was Moncho, Alicia, Adalid, and I along with two men from the community: a machete-man named Hector, and a burly mountain-man named Antonio Cruz. It seems the mountain is chalk full of Cruz brothers…I’ve met at least 6. It was a pretty intense hike b/c Hector had to re-hack the trail from scratch by using his machete, chopping down branches, vines, and whole tree trunks. I almost fell down the mountain several times due to loose soil and steep sides, though Moncho always managed to pull me back up again. We discovered there were actually three different cascadas: two up top of the mountain and then one further down where the two streams become one and thus produce a much more impressive water flow for the final fall. We ate lunch beneath one of the upper falls. Antonio showed up after we had already arrived, carrying all the lunches and a bottle of soda. The men of the mountain aren’t joking around. Give’em a machete and they can make the whole natural world let them through, with one hand on the knife and one on the coffee bag full of homemade food. That was a nice part, just sitting under the fall and eating tortillas and rice with my grubby fingers. We were starving from the hike and the weather was chilly/misty/rain, so the hot food was that much more enjoyable.

The way back we took a slightly more developed path that Antonio knew of, and Alicia collected medical plants along the way. Pushing through the plants and freshly broken branches; leaping from one slippery rock to the next; the bruises and dents I acquired along the way; the dirt in my nails; the bugs in my hair—it all reminded me of being a little kid in the meager patch of woods behind our house in Pittsburgh. There with my best friend we passed days, weeks, summers constructing a shack, running from make-believe villains, being the good force, sharing a secret world. It all comes back to me. And then here I am, in a real forest, still believing myself part of some good force.
Once we cleared the forest, the group burnt a small pile of our trash right then and there, and I moved away to avoid the all too common smell of burning plastics. Luego we made it back to Don Antonio Cruz’s house to enjoy coffee with fresh cow milk. I was already feeling sick at this point, so I barely touched my café.
Once we said our goodbyes, our group walked down the road to the coffee processing operation of one Señor Ramos, who was also an owner of one of the lands that we want the municipalidad to buy for the project. We sat there admiring his coffee crop, just picked and cleaned, damp and fragrant in the cement trough. After about an hour’s wait, we all piled into his truck for the slow descent back to casco urbano, arriving just as the sun slipped away.



To the Dirty and back
And...Happy Birthday to me!
A little trip down to the south has turned into a medical stay until Tuesday. So now I’m 26. I know it’s normal, that time is just time and I’m just stuck in it. It’s just surreal to be growing older when I feel like I’m going back in time. All my friends from site called me—sang Feliz cumpleanos a ti! Then my parents called and sang in English, then Claire wrote me in French…so all the lingual bases were covered. My parents called while I was at Ruby Tuesdays…of all places to be, I would never have foreseen myself in Tegucigalpa, drinking a ruby red, in an American chain restaurant.


Anyway, it was awesome to see some of my fellow volunteers’ sites in the bottom, sweltering hot, half of the country. We all are living such a different experience. Down south the air is Hot! Unbearably hot and dry. There is one major, paved highway that we hitched along and it felt right out of some western flick, where the heat waves roll out in front of you and the sky takes up more than half of the horizon b/c the terrain just goes flat. The sun is so strong it creates this buzz in your ears, and you can do nothing but pour buckets of sweat.
At Nicole’s site I got to see what her business center was all about, and meet the women who work every day making there traditional Lencan pottery. Their work is beautiful. (see pics!) I’m excited to create their logo and help with the marketing of their craft.



Jordan’s site was charming. His house--big and open with a Cashew tree in the back. We picked the fruits and then built a fire to roast the nuts.
Gallo’s site was hot and dirty. But we showed up for the town’s naming of the feria queen and thus went to a town dance, where Gallo got to dance with the queen and I with her primo. The best part of being so damn hot is how wonderful a cold bucket shower can feel in an outdoor pila-shower.


Im finally back and site and I finally have a pila to call my own! My Honduran dream has come true...

Honduran Verano: only 2 seasons in the wor.d

01.20.08
It’s a balancing act: not getting your hopes up, yet living with hope. The house is near completion, and now it feels…permanent, like moving in there means this Honduran town will be my home, that half a yr is up and time will not slow, that the doors on the house will all be installed, will all shut, lock. Living alone brings new fears to mind. Yes, I will have more ‘control.’ I just think cleanliness! But I will also have to face the silence I have now forgotten to miss. What will silence feel like again? The tv is always so loud, layer upon layer of sound. Here nothing shuts things out, it is constant, esp. when it rains and you feel pounded without being touched.



01.22.08
Grey morning w.hot tea. Little Netio almost made me cry last night, he had come to tell me good night, and in his pocket, he was storing a little tube of toothpaste b/c I made him promise to brush his teeth every single day. He and his little brother are going off to work on a farm in Sta. Rita again this week, and so he bought it to keep his promise to me. If only all promises were so easily kept.



A rather old and tall missionary man/vet who was once a volunteer with his wife in the Dem Rep. came to Cabañas today looking for a house…I was like: Get in line buddy! But no, I gave him a little tour…told him about the slight joys and warm friendly town where I was working. But I didn’t really know what to say to him, he was a bit off on the whole eye contact/communication thing…best if he isn’t in the neighborhood…if you know what I mean…though perhaps it would be good for my town? The more foreigners the better? Scratch that, reverse it.


01.25.08
El día de la mujer hoy. The 25th of January is the national celebration in which we are to honor the day women first got the vote in Honduras. Sadly, It’s hard to say if it isn’t just a superficial celebration. What I really want to know, if people honestly just come for the free almuerzo? I hope less than half do…but its prob more like a little over half. My role today was per-usual during eventos: help at the registration table, write names, put on name tags, and then hand out the golden ticket (green almuerzo papel) I also help with the clean up and documenting (photos, and excel spreadsheet input)…such events are emotionally exhausting for me. Too many new faces and standing on my feet and mass feeding.

An x-voluntaria from Venezuela was here traveling with her husband and another couple. So far, all x-volunteers that approach me seem intimidated by something. What their service did or didn’t accomplish? That they no longer are living the volunteer life? Don’t get me wrong, they are all very nice people, just a bit off-kilter. That makes the 2nd x-PCV in my town in a week! Looks like tourism is picking up after all!


01.29.08
My best friend here goes to AA parties for fun on the weekend with her 30 yr old boyfriend.
She also picks her nose right in front of you, no pena. They all do.
Here, this is all good and normal. There is so much that floors me, or de-minds me. Questions, like: will I ever find the lip-point normal? Or will I ever think its o.k. to let a married man grope me in the office? Or will snot rockets onto the floor ever not gross me out…prob. not…but I’m truly amazed already with what you can get used to…


02.09.08
Well it’s D-day. Por fin. After 4 months of waiting and being mislead, I’m suppose to move into my spank’n brand new casa today! (Actually, tonight since they were still painting it this morning…) The wife of my landlord-to-be looked at me and said: “He’s a liar (speaking of her husband), they don’t lie in the states do they?” I wasn’t sure if she meant people in general or just men, either way, I told her: “uh, Yes! They do lie in the states.” Then I had to let my frustration go…because, we are all guilty of something.

Yesterday I got back from Reconnect (Where all of my fellow MuniD volunteers from group 11 and group 9 get together and share work experiences, ideas, collaborate, ect.) It was held in the very chilly mountain resort of Gloriales. While a beautiful place, there was not much to do at night but play cards and watch fellow volunteers perform. (you’d have to have been there to appreciate the kind of performances they were…)
What I got out of reconnect was some nice bonding time and more work!
I’m part of the Project Citizen Committee to redesign and modify the manual for PC Honduras. I’ll be doing the illustrations. This means I will be back in Teguc at the end of the month…just another 12 hr bus trip to look forward to. In truth, I like being en trajet. As long as I’m not feeling ill…which was the case yesterday, where I thought I was going to be sick for 12 hrs straight (or rather 12hrs very very curvy mountain roads).
Besides the new manual designs I am the representative for ENLACE, which is a group of PCVs that promote gender issues and equality. This entails another meetings on March 6th, the day before my bday! I can’t believe I will be turning 26! I’m going to stick with my Honduran-age-thing and say I’m turning 8 months old…
Besides these two commitments I agreed to help various people with Graphic Design projects, mostly logos, catalogues, websites…so I will now have less time to read, which is kind of sad…but being involved with other’s projects is a good way to invest time.


02.10.08
Today I was reminded again why I came here. I went on the “Cabañas rural tourism excursion” that the previous volunteer Nicolas had started to develop before he and his wife left. These experiences with the natural beauty of this country and the generosity of the aldea communities is beyond rewarding. Good’ole loco Pakistani drove us up the mountain in his gravity-defying blue stead of a pick-up truck. (I’m always impressed that we don’t die in that thing) We passed several of the small coffee-farm communities before dismounting at the house of Angelito Ramos of Peñas I. There we took the costumary café-pan break before setting out to hike to the cascada (waterfall) “Diamonte”. The path was steep and peligroso, and challenging. By the time we reached the creek that leads to the cascada, I was already half-drenched and Alicia had broken her shoe. From there, we crawled upon massive mossy rocks, tight-rope walked across slick fallen-trees, and clung to the roots upon the cliff to keep from toppling down to the valley below. The mountains out there are puro. There are no houses, no contamination. It’s just untouched and fresh.

Finally seeing this part of the project I will be working on really brought me out of my funk from post-reconnect. We’ve planned another excursion to a different, more impressive cascada in a week. The short-term plans involve having the municipalidad buy the land and declare it a touristic-zone. Then we can start actually developing the project, building more secure-paths and developing a picnic/ seating area.

When we reached the truck again, the tire was flat, so Paki had to get his spare and the guys got to work on that. Once all 4 tires were basically screwed back on we returned to Angelito’s house for a hot chicken soup with just-made tortillas and cafés. Being the wet and tired crew that we were, the warmth of the kitchen and the food was pretty close to perfect. We discussed the project after lunch and our hopes for the revenue such a project may bring to the people. Then we all piled back into the Paki-mobile and chugged, skidded and smoked down the mountain, collecting and dropping off people along the way.

I almost moved into my new house again today, but only managed to get it cleaned up, since there was no work done since yesterday, and the workmen had decided to use the steps as a garbage dump…
There’s always tomorrow!



02.11.08

The gate of the municipalidad was closed this morning. Sonia told me why: “Ellos mataron Alex.” (They killed Alex.) Patí was first to explain to me what exactly had happened, that in leaving a reunion someone rear-ended Alex’s car, él anduvo bolo (He was under the influence) and so was the other driver and so when Alex got out of the car, waving his gun, the other man shot him. It wasn’t the rounds of shots that I heard fired off last night that made my heart jump, it happened in Sta. Rita, at 4pm. I’ve now heard the story twice, each time, la culpa (blame) falls differently, but this 28yr old is still dead. Patí said pobrecito Alex, that he was like a son to Napo (our mayor), a crazy man, a true character, but with a good heart. Moncho (my host father) said that he was a violent man, looking for trouble, and in the end, it found him. Patí said everyone at the reunion had pistolas, most men in politics here do. I’ve seen bastante men here carry them all the time tucked into their pants. I’d never seen Alex without his. He was the one who drove me into site that first sunny morning to start my service here. He was my Honduran John Wayne. He was definitely a cowboy, and now he just was. I can’t even say I was particulary friends with Alex, I usually told him hello and then tried to avoid his embrace and cigarette breath. But for my friends, for Napo, and my red-eyed co-workers I do cry. I know their grief will last. I am invited to go to the wake and burial, but am afraid to go, and yet, don’t know how to say no. There are still too many things here that I don´t know how to say.