Inside the rainbow.

The past few days, I was at Lajo Yajoa on an end-of-semester retreat. Yesterday we went to this waterfall park. I jumped off the rocky riverbank like 25 feet into the water, it was fun. So much playing around in the water and doing jumps. It was beautiful. I also kayaked with Sylvi really far on the Lake. Ate great fish. Had some great times with my fellow students, who turned out to be a pretty neat bunch.

I guess this is my last post here in Honduras. If you're still reading, thanks, and I hope we can talk when I get back stateside.

Some things I like about Honduras:

• how people point with their lips
• exchanging "buenas!" with strangers
• putting drinks in bags instead of bottles
• men dress well and wear nice shoes
• the abundance of cheese
• how oranges are peeled for you and served with salt
• fake kiss-on-the-cheek greetings
• honey "pura" on crepe-like pankekes
• public space and forced personal interaction
• doorway curtains
• crochet toilet-seat covers
• pulperias
• Spanish is a more expressive language
• how economics forces people to be easier on the environment
• public transportation
• Latino Christian music
• gringas, baleadas, licuados, Penguinos
• flavor and fat in food
• internet cafes

Cuidase.

Digame.

I forgot to mention in my last post that on Thursday, I got to drive a school bus! When we were out in the campo on a rocky dirt road with no one around, Olvin let me take the wheel. It was fun, and easier than I'd imagined.

This morning I took Ambar to Chiminike, which is the coolest children's museum I have ever visited. We played with big bubbles, climbed a huge rope structure, laid on a bed of nails, got ice cream, etc...it was terrific. I will sorely miss this little girl, my friend.

El Color de Esperanza

This past week was spent out in the campo, with our host families in Guanabano, Olancho. There's not a lot going on there, it's farm country but my family is kind of retired. Things are so laid-back. We spent a lot of time with the 7 kids, who are between 17 mos.-11 years old. They are so great, just climbing all over us all the time and making their own fun.

The 96-year-old "papito" great-granddad we met last time we visited just passed away last week, but Sylvi brought a photo she'd taken of him and they framed it and put it on the wall. That was special.

While we were there we administered a survey of the community for the National Diaconate about living conditions, needs, opinions, etc. It was really neat--when we approached a house, we would say "Buenas" and the people would pull up a chair and say "Sientense"(Have a seat) before we even explained who we were.

The man who drove our bus out there, Olvin (and his wife and baby) stayed in the same house as Sylvi and I, which was another cool part. He is such a kind, gentle person and the four of us had fun chats over meals.

Yesterday we went with our families to caves with stalagmites in a cloud forest. That wasn't even one of the highlights of the trip, but the best parts are hard to describe briefly.

It was just so great to get to know that family more and talk with them. They all got teary-eyed and the kids cried when we left this morning. What precious people. I will miss that place.

Vanessa, the 7-year-old, sang me this little song "Pintarse la cara, el color de esperanza" (paint your face the color of hope.)

Ya voy.

Gas prices have jumped here, so taxis are on strike today. Taxis are a vital form of public transportation here...and today tons of these little white cars are lining (and blocking) the streets. Civilian vehicles are also abandoned in the road, I'm assuming because they got trapped by the parked taxis and the drivers got out to walk. Either that or the Rapture happened and I'm out of luck.

I got my hair cut by Gloria's sister, who has a little salon in her house. I felt a little like I was in "Beauty Shop," because the ladies were just chatting away, taking their time, joking around. It was great, and it only cost me $3.50. "Su pelo es superfinisimo y su piel es tan blanca como papel!"

This week we took two field trips. One was a visit to a jail. It was like a little town inside, and we saw the men in literacy class, making hammocks, and doing woodwork. We got to just stand around and chat with them too, which was really cool. The other was to a maquila where they sew clothes for a lot of different brands, including Land's End.

I'm in the home stretch of my time in Honduras, and I'm feeling really attached to this place all of a sudden.

These are the days you remember.

Yesterday I bought a pound and a half of blackberries for 50 cents! Life is good.

This weekend I got the chance to get to know Tegucigalpa a little better. Just taking different busses and walking around was really good. A few of us went to see a dance theater production called "Bienvenidas" in an old opera house downtown. I also went to visit the national museum of art, which was neat. It was all Latin American work. Some of it was really unique, like a different perspective than I've seen before. I also saw a hummingbird in the garden there.

I went to Bible study in our neighborhood with Gloria, and got to hold this happy, chubby baby called Abner for awhile. He didn't seem to mind I don't speak Spanish well.

On Saturday I got locked out of the house and spent half of the night trying to sleep in our porch, on the cold tile floor among Cristina's plants and their ant friends. Luckily I had a nice fat paperback to use as a pillow. That's a story for another time.

A few other muchachas and I went to the Iglesia Cristiana Reformada (CRC) on Sunday in Nueva Suyapa, which was one of the neater church experiences I've had here.

On Friday, I went into the Catedral downtown to sit for awhile. There was an old woman standing in the doorway, who I smiled at as I climbed the stairs. She took my hand and said (in Spanish),
"How old are you?"
"21."
"And you're not married?!" (She examines my hand for a ring)
"Nope."
"It better to not marry!"
"Oh?"
"Yes, it's better to stay single."
And that was the extent of it. Interesting. Very interesting.

Courage.

It’s been oppressively hot here lately!

Ambar has been home from school three times in the past couple weeks because of teacher’s union strikes. This is a pretty regular occurrence—every public school in Honduras shuts down because the union leaders demand continual raises and bonuses. Kurt says the way teachers’ unions abuse their power give other sectors (like maquilas) cause to forbid unions, who in turn get away with mistreating employees. It seems like nearly everything here is corrupt, from the top with government and police down to the bottom. Just really awful. I take a lot about the U.S. for granted.

We are in our third and final class: Development in Practice. We’ve been talking about short-term missions, child sponsorship, missions & development, etc. It’s really interesting! We’ve also been taking the bus up to Nueva Suyapa every afternoon to do some basic social research. My group is interviewing youth about their community.

Yesterday, I bought pupusas from one classmate’s mama and an all-fruit homemade popsicle from another. A guy sitting by the mall sold me strawberries. It’s neat to be able to purchase things so directly from people, instead of some impersonal chain store.

Last night, Ambar “taught” me how to make scrambled eggs with tomato and ham. Later, while I was in my room studying she came and gave me 3 Skittles and 2 M&Ms “para postre!” That girl can make the most simple things so fun. Like standing around, throwing a balled-up napkin at a moth on the ceiling, or my favorite of her games, which is when we bounce this little, blue ball back and forth, and you have to make up a new “move” every time you catch it.

Today, Elvia Alvarez came and spoke to our class. The book Don’t Be Afraid, Gringo (which we read this semester) is the story of her life and work. She is a poor, uneducated campesina from rural Honduras and an organizer for human rights, women’s rights, and land rights. She is my hero! I could have cried the entire time she was talking, it was so moving. A few of us had lunch with her afterwards, in the presence of greatness.

Que te vaya bien.

My mama (Cristina) came home for the weekend, with her daughter and grandson from Chicago. They left for the States this morning, and I was glad for the chance to have a proper, nice goodbye with her. She made me pancakes once last time this morning...her yummy kind that are more like crepes.

On Saturday night, Sylvi and I slept over Annalise's house. We were sprawled out on her bed, chatting, at 1:30 a.m., when her mama burst into the room. She ordered us to come sleep in her room, and my ¨Thanks, but really, we have enough space here¨was met by her grabbing my arm and pulling me off the bed against my will. (She is strong for 80). Seeing the terror on my face, Sylvi volunteered to accompany me. We were directed to the extra bed in the mama's room. Annalise tried to retrieve us, but her mama told her to go lie down, and then spanked her out of the room! We weren't sure if she was angry at us or just wanted us to be comfortable. That distinction gets lost in the cultural exchange for me quite often.

My Spanish is still a long way from "great," but is improving. Last night, my mama told me I could meet her granddaughters if I go to Chicago in May, and assured me that they all speak English. Then she added, ¨But...you speak Spanish too--no problem.¨Coming from her, that is a really valuable compliment. Also, the other day, I registered for a medication savings card, all in Spanish over the phone without help, and that felt really good!