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
