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...
1 comment:
It's tight squeeze, cool breeze, now you've go the shiverees. And you are most def a sore looser. Cute picture!
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