VACA... all i ever wanted!

Israel, amazing:












Paris, oh la la...











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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.

2008: a new year…to laugh

So far this year has consisted of two states of emotion: 1.) Laughing 2.) Laughing or else I’d cry.
I think being in a foreign country is just like that. Learning to see the humor is step one, and allowing yourself to be the constant butt of the joke is step two. I have a little story:

Here there is a traditional food that is the near-twin of the Tamale. It has black and green beans inside a sweet cornmeal, is steamed in husks, and called a “Tikuko.” The Mayan-Chortis used to make these and they are made currently on special days of the year.

A few weeks ago I was shopping with two of my amigas, Elma y Patí from Cabañas, and they asked me if I was hungry. I said: “No. No, I was stuffed from all the “Tikaka” I ate that day.” They started to laugh and then asked me what I thought of the “Tikaka?” I said: “Ellos fueron muyyyy rico”…this made them laugh hysterically. (I figured I had fumbled in my pronunciation.) Then Elma informed me: “Raquel it’s TiKUKO, not TIKAKA! Tikaka is slang for PUSSY!”

I had just told my friends that I was stuffed from eating delicious vaginas that day!

We like to tell this joke often in the municipalidad where I work…



Work is another laugh/ laugh or cry story. This month, like the past three, is flying by. The Plan Estrategico Desarrollo Municipal (PEDM) is finally starting to finalize itself… The Asambleas Comunitarias are all done, minus one (casco urbano). And all the information is now in my nice and neat spreadsheets and stored in the municipalidad’s computer. I even used formulas in Excel to get some fancy statistical data out of all that info! Esther Kay would be proud…I’m using the photography and the stats to put together a presentation with my coworker Elma for the big Cabildo Abierto (Town meeting). All the big wigs will be there so we can show off all our and our community leaders’ hard work!
Here’s a list to give you an idea of the kinds of projects the communities in my municipio need:

1. Electricity
2. Running water/ Clean water system
3. Housing/ Improved Housing: roofs, walls, flooring. (Currently houses are sun-dried-dirt only)
4. Latrines
5. Pilas (Sinks)
6. Bathrooms
7. Improved Roads/New Roads (Currently most communities are accessible by foot/horse only. Sometimes they are not accessible at all during the rainy season )
8. A Kinder Garden/School House
9. Seeds to plant basic crops
10. Improved Wood-Burning Stoves
11. Soccer Field/Playing Field

The above-mentioned are some of the most demanded projects, which the majority of the 40 communities of Cabañas listed in their top 5. (They were to prioritize a list of 30 most necessary projects) Obviously the ERP funds are not going to be sufficient enough to realize every project the communities are in need of, but if the representatives of the community will come to the Cabildo Abierto, they can make sure a few of their pleas are answered.



Besides working with the Unidad Tecnica in realizing this democratic process, and hopefully increasing transparency, I have initiated a few side projects/groups. One is an adult English/Spanish intercambio group. The other is a womens’ exercise group.

I think it’s too soon to tell how effective or sustainable these will be. The turnout has varied from one meeting to the next. Yet, just putting myself in charge of these micro-efforts has definitely increased my community interaction and confidence—thus whether they sink or fly, I will have succeeded in moving one step closer to being seen by the folks of cabañas as someone invested in their community, who wants to bring new/intended-to-be-positive opportunities into their lives.

I don’t know, I think I’ve reached a good place when I can show my Honduran co-workers pics of “drag queen brunch” in Adams Morgan, Washington, D.C. and field the homophobic questions that follow, no?


About the days/times when I want to cry…

When only 8 women out of 57 women invited show up at a meeting intended to be the start of planning for El Día de la Mujer, on January 25th. I think one of the problems is this passivity to such meetings/events. I’m not sure all the women understand what a day to celebrate them is really for? They are too busy with their chores and their normal lives to take time to plan a day where they are suppose to feel “special.” Its true, such days may seem superficial…but the point, I think, is them taking that time out of their other chores to recognize their own worth and value as more important. Perhaps I am naïve to think that matters just as much as getting dinner ready one night, but I hope that is not the case.

When the men in the office seem completely out-of-line with some of my younger, pretty coworkers…and worse, when my younger pretty coworkers really like such married mens’ attention.

When women I think I am friends with, gaining confianza with, lie to me about coming to a meeting I am holding. They will look me straight in the eye and swear they are coming, in the end…no one comes. It just isn’t that big of a deal. And I guess it’s not. Only to me.

When members of the community I have never spoken to and don’t know my name are asking me to write them a letter of invitation to get a visa to come to the US…

When they promise me a house by January, even when I tell them its ok to tell me when it will really be ready. I guess its nice they don’t want to disappoint me, it’s not lying, it’s pleasing. I walk past my unfinished house everyday, the water isn’t boiling yet… I’m still without a chez moi.

When I asked for a pound of pasas (raisins) and my friend brings me a pound of papas (potatoes)…

***
I have to remind myself, not everything is a potential project to my neighbors and friends. They are not necessarily looking to change their lives. I am the one who is trying to bring something new to them, maybe even make them change something (for me). When I think about it like that, I don’t know what I should expect from the community here. With Peace Corps, you kind of have to assign yourself a job to do, and most the time, your just guessing what that should or shouldn’t be. It’s a lot of trial and error.

***



Yesterday, I was starring at the concrete floor of the widow’s house and I thought: no one here will ever miss the comfort of carpet, or how substantial an insulated house can feel. I would never have accepted to go with Sonia, Elma and Patí had I known they were taking me to a wake.

I entered that room with the dead body and was shocked and afraid. I could feel the death. You can truly feel the presence of someone who is no longer the master of his own cavern of kinetic energy, but has let it go into the universe. It felt as if the energy continued to slowly leak out of him—perhaps this is what people call a soul, perhaps a soul is pure kinetic energy that will go on forever?

All I could do was sit and look down. Such places are too personal for me, they belong alone to family and friends of those who have passed. All I could do was relate it to my own life, to see the red eyes, washed out cheeks, and think: grandma

***
In so many respects I feel like a hunter-gatherer. I feel closer to the earth and the natural process of everything. (poop included) Here, when I’m up in the mountains, I hear every part of the world in motion, every micro bug step. The huge hover-craft style bugs are just suspended in midair by the force of their wings’ movement, and those movements surpass subconsciously--they are not thinking: up down, up down, up down…they just are, flying.

I am no longer afraid of where I am or who I might become. Who I have already become in these short 6 months that feel like years and years. Yet, instead of transporting me to the land of the older and wiser, I feel like I’ve become younger—is that possible?

I guess in Honduran years, I am only 6 months old…