El Amor Prohibido

El amor ya se acabo...

2009-05-27T19:40:00.000-07:00

I am back now, living in the usa. Obviously there are a mix of emotions upon leaving my beloved Victoria after having been there for two years, but I must say it is nice to be back. No, living in my parents house is not the dream of every twenty nine year old, but it is what I am doing at the moment, and really for the rest of the calendar year if things happen as planned. That’s right, if things happen as I have planned them…I will be living with my parents for the rest of the year!! Haha, but after two years of being not only away from them but away from everyone I know and love, it will be a nice change to be home again and have a chance to have some conversations with them that we, up to this point, have not been able to have.

Yes, I loved Honduras and maybe it is more accurate to say I loved where I lived, Victoria, Yoro. I loved the people there, who always made me feel at home and welcomed; I loved the work there, which was far and away the most significant of my life so far; and I loved being outside of the United States, seeing our country as people who have never been here do. I would not change the last twenty seven months for anything. And yet, it is never the most difficult adjustment in the world when the place you are moving to does not have carnivorous mosquitoes who bite ANY exposed flesh but does have consistent and reliable electricity; does not have people burning trash as you try to dry your sheets on the line outside but does have carpeting; does not have roofs that leak but does have washers and dryers. These are trivial differences to be sure, but they do add up to make a stressful transition less so.

I have not reached out and been in a hurry to get in touch with most of you, dear friends of mine. That will definitely happen in the days and weeks (and maybe months) ahead, I just did not feel rushed to do so immediately upon returning. Do not feel slighted, the three non-family readers of El Amor Prohibido, if I have not written or called yet—I will and very soon. In the meantime, let me count the ways in which Tek is enjoying his new surroundings. He has been made to learn the ways of the leash, something he had a little experience with in Honduras but never really became part of his daily life. And his run-without-supervision-through-the-town days are long gone; first world countries do not look kindly upon free roaming dogs and gated communities even less so. But whereas his food in Honduras was a dry food of questionable quality, here it is of excellent quality and is mixed with the canned stuff as well. A mélange of brown rice, organic turkey, chicken and vegetables is part of his daily meals now and his enthusiasm for chow time is noticeably higher. Climate control in the house is also a favorite—there was no escape from the intolerable heat of Victoria but that is not the case in New Mexico. He absolutely loves carpeting and the rugs that my parents have in the house—he rolls around on his back like he has never known anything but concrete and tile and dirt his entire life. And although it was Tek, and not my alarm clock, that woke me up 90% of my days in Victoria, here in my parents house I have to practically drag him up from his cushion-bed in the morning.

We go running three or four times a week and while he does not have chickens to chase or stray dogs to meet as we go, there are ducks and geese and the occasional horse to stare down here by the Rio Grande. And most important of the changes, he now has a consistent companion in Homer, my parent’s dog. They were both a bit stand off-ish when Tek first arrived, but now they are buds. Oh, and he gets a milk bone before going to bed every night. All in all I think Tek is happy about the changes, and I am too.

Anyway, that is about it for El Amor Prohibido. I thank all of you who read and commented occasionally, it was fun to see what you guys had to say. Now that I’m back State-side I hope to begin more consistent communication with everyone. You should all have my email address, so send me an email when you can and I’ll respond MUCH sooner than the three to six months I typically took while living in Honduras. Thanks again everyone, I hope you enjoyed the small taste of life in Victoria I gave! And now, a final slideshow (or really long column of pictures) of the past couple of years.
Hasta entonces…

We were both waiting for our dads in that garden where the little boy found the arm...

2009-04-15T15:47:00.000-07:00

March 30
This past weekend I was in San Pedro Sula for a night to get some errands done and also to swing Tek by the vet and give him a pre-flight checkup. This guy is such a stud traveling—you put him on a bus and he doesn’t whine or squirm, doesn’t threaten or attack fellow passengers, doesn’t do any business—he just chills. I was singing his praises to the vet once I brought him in, and her response was “yea but he’s kind of a scaredy cat.” He kept meekly pulling his arms away from her as she tried to get a blood sample. He eventually relented, taking the needle like a champ, and I am happy to announce that he is a healthy dog. I am actually flying out of Tegucigalpa, so in three weeks or so I’ll go down there with him and do this all over again.

Nothing else to report about this trip except the ride back. I get up at the crack of dawn to get a cab and then a little rapidito bus the twenty minute ride to the vet’s office so I can get Tek before the 6:30am bus heading from San Pedro back to Victoria passes. Mission accomplished, Tek and I are waiting at the bus stop before our Victoria ride gets there. Unfortunately this day happens to be a Saturday morning, the Saturday before Semana Santa begins. Weekend buses are always more packed, and this weekend more than most, but there was no time during the week to go and the trip to the vet needed to happen now. But my fears came to realization when the bus owner, Tomás, stepped off the bus, looked at Tek and said, “Amigo, there’s no room.” He took me to the back of the bus and opened the door to show me—boxes and bags stacked four feet high, taking up the back area and the final two rows of seats. I pleaded with him and after a couple of minutes he relented. So the whole ride back I was standing and Tek was resting on top of a child’s bicycle...on top of this pile of boxes.

In World Cup qualification news, on Saturday night Honduras was about 115 seconds from getting it’s first win and the three points that go with it, and then allowed Trinidad & Tobago to score, resulting in a tie (only one point). As for the USA, down 2-0 in San Salvador, our boys scored twice in the last fifteen minutes to tie and salvage a point! On Wednesday is the big one for Honduras—Mexico comes to town! Team USA plays at home vs. T & T, which should be a win, but nothing’s for sure.

April 11
We’re winding down Semana Santa right now, and I am here in Victoria. Earlier I had planned to go with a family to Copán for the week, but a miscommunication with the volunteer with whom I share the theodolite meant that I did not get said equipment when I wanted it and was forced to finish off my last topo study during this holiest of weeks. More on this later, but before I forget, another World Cup qualification update.

On the first of the month there was another round of games. Mexico came to Honduras and had their ass handed to them, 3-1. It was the first victory for Honduras in this round of qualifying and was an impressive one at that. The States won their game, 3-0, at home against Trinidad & Tobago. The next game for Honduras is an away game against USA, so everyone is talking trash, super confident based on the easy win against Mexico. Unfortunately by the time the two teams play each other I will no longer be in Honduras and I have a sinking feeling I won’t be able to find the game on TV in the States, whereas here it will be on every channel!

So besides that final topo study and system design, the major part of my remaining work involves preparing villages that I was not able to do studies in to have their ducks in a row for the next volunteer. The hottest and driest months here are March, April, and in to May, and for villages that want water systems, these are the months that one has to go to measure the flow of their chosen water source. If the water flow during these dry months is enough to support the population of the village, then things are good and you can move on to planning the topo study and then design and budget estimation, etc. Generally in the middle to later part of May the rainy season begins, June at the latest, and once that happens there is plenty of water everywhere—brooks and streams and rivers fill, there is water coming out of the ground all over—it’s ridiculous. But I have been to villages where the system was designed and built based on the measurement of a source during the rainy season, and so these people (who have faucets and sinks and showers in their homes) do not have water in March and April.

I leave here in the first week in May and the next wat/san volunteer will get here two weeks later. In the event that the rains have already begun by the time he arrives, I want to have water sources measured in at least two or three villages so he does not have to wait an entire year until the next dry season hits to start the process. On Friday of last week I got two done in the same day! It will likely be the most productive day I have for the rest of my time here, work-related at least, because I only have one other date scheduled to do an aforo (literally, “measurement”). In the early morning a bus took me part of the way and then I got off and walked with community members into the hills to the source. This first one I did on Friday was the same one I visited with the “aspirante” volunteer-to-be that came in the middle of March—that was the first time I had seen that fuente, and this time I was back to measure it. Things went well, there was plenty of water.

I walked back to Victoria afterward, ate lunch, and then in the early afternoon met up with one of my host brothers-in-law (he works with Salud and is married to a daughter of my host “parents”) and we hiked about an hour up from Victoria to a tiny village of 12 houses that I had never visited. In total distance from Victoria it’s probably not too far, but it is only up, up, and up so it took us some time. And we went in the hottest part of the day (one of the NY-based Jehovah’s Witnesses who has been walking around town recently told me the temp got to 104 degrees F), so that didn’t add to our pace! By the time we got to the village each of us had finished off our respective water bottles but we were given orange soda in one house and then coffee in another. Coffee. It sounds crazy to me, but coffee is such a staple of the diet here that the weather does not exist that will dissuade one from drinking (or offering) coffee. But I guess coffee drinkers the world over drink it no matter what. I am not a coffee drinker, but I was glad to be offered something to drink, and the sugar in it helped me re-energize as well.

The water source for this village is tiny, significantly smaller than the one I had seen in the morning, but because the village is so small it was sufficient. And because we took the measurements during the hottest and driest month, I am fairly certain that there will be sufficient water year round. And that was the day—two water sources measured, two villages ready for the next guy to begin work with as soon as he gets here! The hike back down to Victoria was cake because it was not as hot out, it was all downhill, and we knew there was all manner of refrigerated drinks waiting for us!

The next day, Saturday, was excellent because the pool just outside of town opened up. I cleaned the heck out of my house during the morning and in the afternoon went with Sara and another friend down to the pool. How excellent are afternoon’s spent in and around a pool? It was nice to be in the water and out of the heat for awhile.

And then there was Semana Santa. Last year I spent it with a group of friends in the department of Olancho, hiking the third highest mountain in the country. But this year, due to a lack of time remaining and a miscommunication with another volunteer, I was doing my last topo study during the first part of the week, and then hanging out in Victoria working on the design for the rest of it. The study was good, no real issues and I was out of there after two days. On Wednesday night I got back to town and was ready for whatever “Holy Week” in Victoria was going to throw at me. It did not throw anything. The town had become packed with strange (to me) cars and people--relatives coming back to their hometown from all over the country. But as opposed to during the feria, when everyone descends on Victoria, this time every single person was in their parent’s house or down at the río. I went out on Thursday afternoon to get some rice and salt, an errand that would normally take me five minutes or less. But on that particular day it was impossible. Nothing was open. Not a single one of the dozen or so pulperías around my house had an open door. Walking around town it felt like I was in a Stephen King novel and everyone but me had evacuated the area or died. In the two years I have been here I had never seen Victoria like that.

Things returned to normal on Friday. My landlady even gave me some of the traditional sopa de pescado and as she prepared it her family grilled me about girls and Honduras’ chance of beating the USA in July. That was a pleasant and unexpected surprise. And on Sunday I was involved in more Honduran family events because my host family had extended family from Tegucigalpa and Puerto Cortés come to town to celebrate not only La Pascua but little Isabela’s baptism. Here are some pics of the family...

Hope everyone is well. Much love, Joe

Has anyone in this family ever even seen a chicken?

2009-03-27T13:19:00.000-07:00

Correction to that fun fact I gave in the last blog update: only SEVEN (not five) aldeas in the municipio of Victoria have electricity, which is FOUR (not two) more than had it before the current mayor came. Even more impressive than I lead on, no?

March 12
Just got back from a three day topo study in a village. This one was rough—lots of hiking, extreme temperatures (very hot during the day, very cold at night), difficult terrain—and the bad news is all of it was a re-shoot. A friend and I did a conduction line (from the water source to the storage tank) study for this village last year, but it turned out there were several points along the way that were too high for water to reach in a gravity-fed system. So another route had to be found, one on significantly lower ground, and then we needed to do another study to measure the terrain.

By the time we had hiked to the starting point for the study each day, the shirt I was wearing was already soaked through. And then one night we were definitely hiking back to their village by moonlight because we had finished working so late and were so far away. This is all great and I certainly love the work. The only problem is the only footwear I brought was the pair of rubber boots I purchased here in Honduras. These boots far outstrip the cool REI boots I have when it comes to trekking through mud or rivers (once the soles of those REI boots get wet, you might as well put on rollerblades), but they are not nearly as comfortable and are downright stupid to wear on long hikes. Long hikes like the ones we did each morning...and again each evening. Not to mention being upright all day doing the actual study. By the time we finished (thank goodness we actually finished!), I was sure my boots were slowly filling with blood because the pain on the last hike back had me convinced my skin was slowly being ripped off. And that’s no joke—the pain was intense and the last hike was all downhill, so my foot was gripping and slipping within the boot the whole time. Of course, as it turns out, no blood. And a visual inspection of the soles of my feet reveals no external damage or distress marks of any kind. But the pain was real, I tell you!!

And the other thing I hate is that I come back from this community just riddled with all sorts of skin ailments—insect bites, rashes, eczema outbreaks—because of having spent so much time offroad and without showers. Nothing more to say about that, I guess. Hopefully this route we just measured is much more generous to gravity-fed water system designs. And then in a week or two I go back to take measurements within the actual community.

March 18
A PC trainee, or a volunteer-to-be, just left Victoria today after having spent the last two and a half days here living the life of a real volunteer. That “real volunteer” would be me—hold it a second, gotta brush this dirt off my shoulder—and, where was I? Right. Anyway, the new group just arrived in Honduras about three weeks ago and now is the time that each of them leaves the training site and goes to visit one of us out in the field. Sometimes these visits are just blown off but they can be pretty useful, as well. Luckily the guy sent to Victoria and I had couple different things to do. On Monday we went to see a water source with about ten caballeros from a nearby community that want to use it for their as-yet-unbuilt water system. I talked to them about the pros and cons of the source (distance from the community, elevation difference, flow strength, etc.) and that was that. Monday afternoon was great because it gave the illusion that I am very integrated into the community—a high schooler came over looking for help with English homework; a friend came by to play guitar; and a neighbor’s kid was here playing with Tek the whole time. Seriously, those three things converged within a two or three hour span in a way they rarely ever do on a normal day.

On the way to lunch on Monday a gentlemen stopped us in the street and asked if I was the “water guy.” He then proceeded to tell us about the problem he has in his village with the system that is already in place and asked when could I go check it out—and just like that we had Tuesday morning plans! The next day we met that gentleman at the water source to his system and then proceeded to walk the tubería to his pueblo (one of the four that now has electricity within the past couple years) and saw that open faucets had no water coming out of them the further away we walked from the source. We talked about what some of the problems could be and then he invited us to his mother-in-law’s house where we had some coffee. Tuesday afternoon much less cool—no English homework to help with, no guitar-playing friends, just a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses to chat about the Bible with as my “aspirante” took a nap.

March 26
A fairly normal week so far, but I will update this a bit. Thursday of last week was my birthday and it was a normal day here in Victoria, but just a little bit sweeter. Thanks to all of you who wrote or called—calling is cooler than writing, because there’s no internet here, but I accept birthday emails, of course! And if you did neither, well, don’t even bother reading the rest of this blog. And you’re banned from the next entry, as well, it’s like a red card, baby!! All joking aside, I ran in the morning and then opened a care package from the folks (that Sara had brought back from Teguc). In the early afternoon the mayor’s office crew threw me a little lunch deal and had a small gift and card to go with it, and then in the evening Sara and pcv friend of hers who was passing through got together and baked cookies and then made me dinner! What’s not to love about birthdays?!

On Saturday Sara, two more gringa pcv’s, and I went to a nearby town to attend a dance. Actually the first one I have been to outside of Victoria proper, and it was a good one. In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that the town in question was the same one the volunteer-in-training who came to visit me and I went to to evaluate their water problems; AND that the salón where the dance was held had just had its inaugural opening three days prior. So there you go. It was nothing exciting, just a dance. But it is always interesting to have volunteers from other places in your site watching you cut loose a little.

And yesterday, two noteworthy things happened. First, the boss-man of my Wat/San program came out to Victoria to pay a visit and see how things were going. Nothing super special there, just a reminder of all the forms and reports and miscellaneous stuff that I need to do in a rapidly shrinking amount of time, along with the work I still need to complete. But it was good to get some advice about how to best go about finishing things. The exciting thing happened in the evening, after my boss had left, after I had eaten and cleaned up from dinner, even after I had showered. I am sitting in the living room, reading before I go to bed, and I notice a small something on my right heel. I shake my foot but nothing flies off, and I assume its just because my foot is still wet from having showered. And then I lift up my foot and get a better look. Across my entire right heel I have formed an off-colored, pseudo second skin—i.e. a big effing blister. So much for that hellish study not leaving any distress marks on my feet!!!

More on Victoria later. I miss you guys. Hope you’re enjoying March Madness!
Love, Joe

Who can save our village?

2009-02-27T13:27:00.000-08:00

Once again, no rolling update—sorry about that. That is the best way to update this thing but I just didn’t get around to it. And for those of you who wrote me emails AGES ago, I apologize—you have something waiting in your “inbox” now. Hopefully. So there is not a lot of news news over here. When I was in a major city last to update the blog, Obama inauguration timeframe, I was there because my group of peace corps volunteers was gathered for our Close of Service conference. Its where PC gives us the laundry list of reports that need to be finished, forms that need to be filled out, medical appointments scheduled, yada yada. Since then I have been in Victoria the entire time, occasionally returning to villages to finish up work on a study and design and, in a few cases, visiting them for the first time to get to know the water situation.

The new development is that I am definitely at the point in my service where the information I collect now about villages is something I will pass down to the new volunteer who follows me here in Victoria. In the past couple of weeks, for example, I have gone to three places I had never been to before and each one is starting from nothing. But since the season for measuring the output of each water source is not until (normally) late March through early May, I will be fortunate to be able to take those measurements before I leave. And all that must happen before the topo study and design. So a portion of my work at the moment is just organizing information for the next volunteer.

One thing that is unique to what I have done here to this point is that the first week in February I started hosting a (very) brief segment during the evening news hour on Victoria’s own radio station—in case that news had not quite reached your various states yet, its 90.5 FM (www.rsvictoria.com)! My segment is ten minutes normally, once a week, and it deals with environmental and basic sanitation issues. I do a mock interview with the same fictional campesino, and each week he is defending his unsanitary or environmentally destructive actions because of complaints lodged against him by his neighbors. Hilarity ensues and we eventually do learn something each and every week. This project is largely based off the work a former volunteer did a couple of years ago, but I have a friend here who is helping me tailor it to the area.

That brings up an intriguing truth about Victoria—not too long ago the town began it’s very own radio station (complete with a satellite internet hookup), and yet electricity here is not a constant. There are families here, who have sons and cousins and uncles in the States, who live in two story mansion-looking homes, and there are families living in shacks that are pieced together with whatever materials people could find. The casco urbano, or Victoria proper (where the mayor’s office is), does not have many of those shacks, but there are some and they stand in stark contrast to the expansive homes not far away. There are only two places that have internet in the entire muncipality—the new, privately owned radio station; and at the office of the Spanish NGO in town. Not in the high school, not in the mayor’s office, nowhere else.

Victoria is one of the largest municipalities in the department of Yoro and is the poorest. The casco urbano is located at one of the extreme ends of its own municipality, right on the border of another department, Comayagua. To give an example of how oddly placed the town is within its own municipio, check this out: when I go on runs, one of the paths I take goes south and from the mayor’s office, following that path, I can be in another department (Comayagua) inside of five minutes; yet, there are some towns and villages to the north and west that are part of Victoria that are three and four hours away by bus. Very odd. It should not be hard to imagine that many of the people in these far-away villages spend much more of their time going to nearby cities (that have supermarkets, paved roads, internet, etc.) to do errands than they do going to Victoria. But none of these other, bigger cities (Santa Rita, El Negrito, Morazán) has any kind of jurisdiction over them and can not help them for water, health, or property issues, etc.

The work I do is mostly (if not entirely) in these villages far away from Victoria proper. Some of these villages are the kind where it takes a three hour bus ride and then a two hour hike to get to—completely isolated, away from everything. You can imagine what kind of assistance people in towns like this can expect from their local government, especially considering the corruption and poverty that wracks this country. Victoria has a pretty awesome mayor, an engineer who worked with an NGO in Victoria and nearby municipios for decades before running for office. There are always political factions and party loyalty issues, but nearly everyone admits the current mayor has done more in the past three years for Victoria than were done in the twenty years previous. But he can only do so much—forget about how much money he does not have to do all the projects that need doing, the mayor’s office does not have transportation. Neither the mayor nor anyone who works for him has a car or truck to go visit these villages. People who work in the office use their own motos for transport, if they have one, but a good portion of the towns pertaining to the municipio are often inaccesible to moto given the time of year and weather conditions.

So there you go, thats probably enough Victoria for one blog entry, no?! Here’s one last quick fact for use at parties/inaugural balls: there are 168 towns and villages in the municipio of Victoria and only five of them have electricity. But that is two more than had electricity before the current mayor took power. More to come, I hope everyone is well.

A new day...

2009-01-21T07:35:00.000-08:00

Am I in...two thirds of a hospital room?

2009-01-20T15:19:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone, happy new year! Its 2009 and, I think its official, the United States of America has a new President. What else needs to be said?

The new year is going well so far here in Victoria. But let me back up a bit to the end of December. The last part of my last entry was about La Posada, and how people gather in the town park every night in December and walk through the streets to a different house each time, singing Christmas carols and re-enacting María and José looking for a room. When all is said and done that will be one of my favorite memories here—its so unique and intimate and fun. I did that every night I was in Victoria in December but on the 23rd I left because my parents had flown to Costa Rica to do a working vacation or a volunteer vacation with a group called Global Volunteers over Christmas! They worked on a coffee farm for a week! Really!

I will not subject you all to every detail, but it was an excellent trip. We met in the mountainous region of Monteverde, spent some time there (where they had been for the coffee work), and then went to the capital, San José. By the time I arrived my folks had roughed it enough and eaten their fill of gallo pinto (a mixture of rice and beans), so they were eager to indulge in some of the luxuries of being a tourist—hot showers, meals without rice and beans, etc. I gave them a hard time, but ultimately relented. For their benefit. Here is a picture of the three of us at a nice San José restaurant their last night in town.

After they left I returned to the life of the solitary backpacker and found a hostel for a couple of nights. I figured a new year’s spent in the unknown of Costa Rica would top what I knew of Honduras. But no, I am doomed to forever experience lame New Years Eve’s. Sure hostels are a great place to meet people; unfortunately for me the only people to be met at the particular hostel where i was were middle aged German men. Ok, there was an attractive family from Puerto Rico there, too, but even then the closest girl to my age was fifteen. So I think at the exact moment that Costa Rica slipped into 2009, I was sitting in an arm chair in the living room of the hostel, watching The Notebook with said middle aged German man and adolescent Puerto Rican girl. Awesome.

But Victoria has had, and normally does have, an exciting first couple of weeks of the new year. The town’s feria just finished and EVERYONE from town comes back for this thing! Family members re-unite not for Christmas here but for the feria a few weeks later. And they’re not just coming from Tegucigalpa and San Pedro but Houston and New York, as well. Its no joke. Anyway, it is two weeks of almost non-stop events and the town is not the same for the rest of the calendar year. The church is never as filled as during the day of the patron saint, on January 15; the Salón de Actos Culturales is never as packed as later that night when a band is brought in to play live music for the fiesta!

I know I wrote about this last year but I think the only picture I had to contribute was what I referred to as an “artsy” picture—a blurred image of some lights and people. Here are some pics from this year’s event:

People leaving the church on the 15th...

...the welcome banner at one of town's entrances...

...from the side of the town's mini bull ring at a rodeo show...

...from backstage at the "Miss Victoria" competition...

Ok, and I was wrong about which dance is the most crowded. I was under the impression that it was the dance on the 15th—not so. Two nights later they have a dance for the “Viejos”; anyone 70 yrs and up gets in for free. Couples of any age pay a discounted fare and single people pay an outrageous fare. I went this year because many people had told me how popular it is and how many people go just to watch the older couples dance. But I would not have believed it if I had not seen it…amazing. Older people, sweet old ladies and men, the ones you only see go to and from church once a week, were out on the dance floor kicking up a storm! I left at 2am and they were still going!!

PS—Happy Inauguration Day! Go USA!

Soy LOCO por las cornballs!

2008-12-10T12:56:00.000-08:00

November 28
Thanksgiving Day was yesterday and I spent it in Victoria. My sitemate, a friend of hers from a site about an hour and a half away, and I all cooked together throughout the day and then enjoyed a nice Thanksgiving meal. It was actually a lot of fun, staggering the different dishes we were cooking, hanging out with Sara’s host family and explaining the tradition to them. And it somehow managed to take all day—there were cookies (oatmeal peanut butter!) in the morning until Elizabeth, Sara’s friend, arrived and then we moved on to the pumpkin pie and simultaneously the chicken dish (it was a non-traditional meal). By the time it was over there were also deviled eggs (I don’t think I’m a huge fan), stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, dinner rolls. And of course tonight we’re going to eat leftovers…excellent!

December 3
It’s Wednesday now and I’m in the middle of a new water project. This week I am spending in another municipio checking out the water situation in four aldeas because Engineers Without Borders is interested in the area. I am the closest wat/san volunteer so they have a gringo down here acting as a link between the organization and PCVs, among other things, so I’m checking out the deal. This is not at all unlike what I have been doing for about eighteen or so months here in Victoria, only now it is in a new location. I go visit the pueblo, talk to the local leaders, take an elevation point or two near the highest houses, and then walk to the location of the water source they want to use for the proposed system to check it out. First village we did on Monday and it was a breeze. But then yesterday was village number two and I have to say that of the fifteen or so aldeas I have before, yesterday was the most difficult. Without question. Part of it is that I still have not fully recovered from the bronchitis I have had since I came back from the States. But aside from that the mountain we were hiking on was a complete nightmare—it was only mud, mud, and more mud. And mud can be fun, I’ll admit that. But not this mud. This is the mud that’s making your hike so much more difficult when you are descending several hundred meters, making you slip like you’re wearing rollerblades…the mud that never lets you relax and just walk normally because you have to stare intently at every spot on the ground. But then there are the patches of mud like a bog, where there is nowhere else to put your foot, and trying to get your boot to come out of the mud still on your foot is an act that requires serious concentration.

The only time we were not putting our feet in mud was when we were crossing the river on little sticks people had set up between rocks. Normally this is a river one can just walk across but we’re still in the rainy season so it is way too strong to do that now. This scene was made all the worse by the fact that we were in a rain cloud the entire day. There was no sun, only rain. After we had hiked down (a generous profe gave us a ride in his truck UP the mountain on a road) for three hours, we found out that our plan to continue hiking down and thus out of the mountain would be impossible because the path further down had been washed out. So we then had no choice but to retrace our steps and hike back up three hours to where the truck had dropped us off. I returned to Victoria that night well after nightfall, completely covered in mud, still wet and very cold. I know it’s a boo-hoo story, but it was brutal.

December 6
Saturday now, the weekend is just beginning! Last night was a pretty cool event—the high school, or colegio, was having its graduation ceremony and dance. Last year at this time I had not done any work anywhere in the village proper of Victoria and did not have strong ties to many people here and knew nothing about town events. As a result, I do not think I even knew when or where the high school graduation happened last year. This year not so…I was an invited guest! It was a low key affair but the hall where they held the ceremony was packed and the local TV cameraman was there filming everything; it was pretty fun. I went with a friend’s family, took pictures of the students graduating, sat through some long speeches, and generally had a good time. Afterwards there was a dance for the new grads and it was funny because a lot of the parents were there as well—perhaps to make sure everyone behaved! Anyway, a unique event and definitely fun.

December 9
Last night the town began La Posada again! I think I mentioned it last year, but I didn’t catch on until the 20th or so of December. Beginning early in the month, every night everyone is welcome to gather in the town park at a certain hour. From there we all walk as a group through the town, singing Christmas carols and with a boy and girl out in front, going to a different house each night. Once we arrive at the house we re-enact María and José looking for a room at the inn. There’s a little back and forth song, first the people outside then the people inside responding in song. It is a great Christmas tradition!

You just made a fool out of yourself in front of T-bone…

2008-11-24T11:46:00.000-08:00

No rolling update this time, sorry. In the past month there have been a few major events. First off was the trip back to the United States of America to see family and friends. The New Mexico portion of the trip was excellent, just like coming home. My parents did way too much cooking (but it was soooo good), my sister drove out, and I got to see a lot of family friends as well. I managed to renew my driver’s license and voted early as well, so it wasn’t all r&r! The Minnesota portion of the trip was also excellent, if eye-opening. My good friend Michael Reif was married and I got to see some of my closest friends in the world. The reunion was not the smoothest but it was an important one, and since the attendees at the wedding constitute 92% of El Amor Prohibido’s readership, you know what I’m talking about. Needless to say, I love you all—friends, family, everyone I saw on this trip.

I returned less than a month ago and ever since I have struggled to regain my form, mostly due to bronchitis. There were torrential rains in Honduras while I was gone, twenty or so people died in mud slides or raging rivers, and when I returned people were comparing it to Hurricane Mitch in 1998. Mitch is the hurricane that utterly destroyed the country and from which there has not yet been a full recovery. Not even close. Anyway, when I returned people told me the Rio Sulaco, which passes just south of Victoria, had risen to Mitch heights and that buses had stopped running for a week in the region because the roads were so bad. I got bronchitis from a mold covered blanket that I put on my bed and was sleeping under for a week. Come to think of it, all the clothes in my house were covered in mold when I came back, so why I thought this blanket would be any different is a good question.

The next big thing was November 4th, of course. My sitemate Sara and I ditched Victoria for a fellow pcv’s house many many hours away in a site where there is cable tv. There we had an election party complete with hand made Obama signs, balloons, and among other things, rice krispy treats with American flag toothpicks sticking out of them. And we watched CNN. All afternoon and night. What an amazing night it was. I’ll leave it at that.

Much of the rest of the month has been struggling with bronchitis, finishing a design and planning what the next few months of work will look like, reading, and watching The Wire. Sara and I also had our baseball tryout two weekends ago and it was very successful. For a traveling team that can be no more than 15 players we had 52 kids show. I guess we can judge it “successful” only if a large portion of them continue to show each week, but it was a good first step. School is done here now (vacation is December and January) and the Primary Elections are coming up at the end of the month. Within just one party there are three mayoral candidates here in Victoria: the current mayor running for re-election, the current vice mayor, and a former mayor. That’s to say nothing of the other major party, which has a couple candidates as well.

That’s a little dry, I know, but that’s about it for now. Give me a break, I’ve been back from the States for less than a month and have had a debilitating cough for nearly 100% of that time. Tek is going crazy because I haven’t been running so he’s not getting out as much. More to come soon…

An historic day...

2008-11-05T10:51:00.000-08:00

Congratulations to President-elect Obama! Congratulations to the United States of America!

Now I’ve got to make this place smell like chocolate chip cookies…

2008-10-16T12:11:00.000-07:00

October 13, 2008
We’re back with a quick entry to get the ball rolling. The last entry ended with Gen leaving Honduras and me leaving Victoria for a solid block of time. Before I get to all that let me just say that I am no longer the only volunteer here in Victoria. The newbie arrived and her name is Sara and all is right with the world. Get this: she is a baseball stud, and by that I mean she not only played as a child but in college as well…at a Division I school. So our little youth baseball team project might actually have a chance of doing something productive this year. Neither Gen or I had much idea what we were doing and practices consisted mainly of throwing the baseballs as high in the air as we could and running around, giggling like idiots. At the time I was pretty proud of the effort. But no, now I see that it was inadequate!

So, the reason I ditched Victoria the same day as Gen left for good was that I had two buddies fly in. One is a red-headed lawyer from Minnesota, valedictorian of his Boston College class; the other is a gray-haired New Yorker currently getting his PhD in mathematics. So I have to walk on eggshells around these guys and try and not make them feel stupid…it’s rough. Who am I kidding? The five of you who read this know Reif and Cutrone, so let’s just leave it at that. Ok, the trip was excellent and I am still kind of in disbelief they actually made the trip. Especially that red-haired one, what with his getting married later this month (I’m sending a couple seed bracelets your way, buddy!).

I will not go through the entire itinerary with the rest of you, but we did see Mayan ruins at Copán and some hot spots in Guatemala. It was actually cold in Guatemala which I could not get over given how brutally hot it was (and still is) in neighboring Honduras. The trip was excellent, as I said before, but it was rushed due only to my lack of free time because of an impending volunteer workshop that was a mandatory attendance deal. Nearly every morning the three of us were getting up at ridiculously early hours to catch shuttles to the next destination but somehow we always made it. We saw some truly remarkable things, for sure, but the best part was sitting in various bars and restaurants, drinking the local brew, and just talking. Good talks, bad jokes, and just generally not making the United States look good to those around us. But good talks.

October 14
I spent a day in Victoria once Reif and Cutrone left, gathering my things for the Peace Corps mandated training workshop. That ended up only being about two days long but took up nearly a week including travel time. Not much to talk about there—it was great seeing friends because I go months and months without seeing any other volunteers, normally, and there were some good presentations and information exchanged about projects, etc. Forced reunions are never anyone’s first choice but this one turned out to be pretty worthwhile.

Two days later a high school friend and one of the most upstanding citizens I know, we’ll call him Sarat, came to visit. He is a doctor starting his residency in orthopedic surgery (is that right, dude?!) in Miami—but back off, ladies, he has a girlfriend. Sarat took a year off med school and lived and worked in India for six months and then Guatemala for six months. So not only his he world traveled but the Spanish language is one he has already mastered.

Anyway, we took a different route with his time here. It could have been Guatemala on the one hand, the Bay Islands (and scuba diving) on the other, but there was a super secret option three: go back to Victoria, stay for the Independence Day celebrations (parade, pool party, dance), and then head north and do adventure stuff outside of La Ceiba. We opted for super secret option three. The downside, as we said at the beginning, was travel (the bus rides can be brutal) and time lost traveling. But the upside was seeing small town Victoria in all its celebratory best AND doing some touristy stuff later on.

So we hung out in my town for a day and a half first. Meeting some of my friends and seeing a massive parade came first—let me correct that, Sarat ended up meeting half of the town—and in the afternoon we took a walk to the big pool just on the outskirts of town. At an event like this theres generally three distinct crowds: the first is the older guys (38 yrs+) who go just to hang out and drink beer; the second group is the cool kids from the colegio (ages 16-19) who are there to see and be seen; the third group are the kids age 12 and below who just want to swim and play. We hung with that last crowd and now know a few things: Sarat is much faster than me at swim sprints; I am much faster than 10 yr olds at swim sprints; I can hold my breath longer than Sarat; 10 yr olds can hold their breath longer than me.

After we said goodbye to Victoria we headed to the north coast. Outside of La Ceiba we found a “lodge” on the river and stayed there for a couple of days doing beer drinking, reading, white water rafting, rock climbing and cliff jumping, and canopy tours. It was a great mix of high adrenaline adventure activities (!!) during the day and good food, on-the-river relaxing atmosphere in the evening. And before you know it that trip was complete as well—it just seemed like seven days is not enough time. But I was grateful for all three guys coming down and had a blast and a much needed break from all things pcv.

Now I am here in Victoria and have been here since the last week in September. The last three weeks have been a great chance to get back into things after nearly a month away. I have gotten back into the running routine, have been teaching every week at the elementary school, and been finishing some designs that needed work. On top of that there is a new volunteer here to get to know, so Sara and I are beginning that process whenever time allows, and with her enthusiasm being the key ingredient we started baseball practice with the youth team a couple of weeks ago!

October 15
This isn’t really an entry, but I had to share this. I am at the elementary school today, have just begun a class with sixth graders, and the power goes out—surprise!! Ok, so all the kids run out of class and commence memorizing something in a pamphlet. I sit outside and watch them and before long a couple come over to talk. I ask them what they are doing and they show me. They have to memorize the explanations for every line in their national anthem—and their anthem is ridiculously long. At public events they sing what amounts to a fifth of the entire thing. And of course every line has significance, and these children have to memorize the meaning of everything.

Before long they are asking me about the “himno nacional” for my country. They want it in Spanish and I say I only know it in English. Then they want me to sing it and I say I’ll cant sing but I’ll say it to them, but only a bit because they have to get back to memorizing (I didn’t want poor grades for anyone based on me singing or talking). So I began saying it, and all was going well. And as I approached the end of the first stanza I decided not to keep going. So I stopped and told them to get back to work, but I was feeling uneasy about the words—as if I couldn’t remember everything. But I knew that was ridiculous because EVERYONE in the United States of America knows the national anthem. Its not like some know it and some don’t. No. EVERYONE knows it.

So I began writing it down, line by line. Soon there was a crowd of fifth and sixth graders huddled around me, curious about what I seemed so intent to write. Some started saying, “You don’t know it, do you?” and I brushed them off with a “Por favor, chicos!” and then demanded space. I was waivering, slowly but surely losing my balance on this metaphoric tight wire, and there was nothing I could do about it. It was shocking to me but there was no avoiding it. After twenty minutes of solid concentration, this is what I had:

Oh say can you see
By the dawns early light
What so proudly we hailed
At the twilights last gleaming

Whose broad stripes and bright stars
Through the perilous fight
Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still standing

O say does that banner
(something something) still wave
O’er the land of the free
And the home of the brave

Don’t worry, I got it before much longer and completely on my own. Yes, all of it...in the correct order. And that last point is a very important one. All on my own. At some point this may be used against me for a very public shaming, I am sure. But I felt I should share…

Her?!..

2008-09-30T09:09:00.000-07:00

First off, please check out the entry previous--I loaded the appropriate pictures to aid in digestion of the meandering narrative. Finally, and without further ado, the Genevieve tribute I promised, in honor of her successful completion of PC service...

...giving Tek his first bath...

...being assaulted by big Tek...

...with the children of the Comedor Infantil...

...aiding in the murder of a chicken...

...with our beisbol team at the regional torneo...

...and what can be said about this? Its a classic pose...!

She will be missed.

I´ll be back with another entry soon, everyone. Much love from Honduras.

...Lord knows they´re squinters!

2008-09-28T13:33:00.000-07:00

September 21, 2008
Yes, the rolling update is back and yes, I am only just beginning this entry now, two months after I posted my last one. We’re not going to dwell on that, are we? Ok, I am back in Victoria and many things have changed. This will be a quick entry because I am going to bed soon so I can get up and run for the first time in over two months—but I had to start sometime so why not now? See? I haven’t written an update in two months, I haven’t run in two months…I abandoned other things, not just the blog! Like I said, I am back in Victoria and am typing this section on a brand new computer…ok, its not brand new but its new to me. Mine finally broke down (it was nice enough to give me a lot of notice) and a friend (Mr. Joseph William Cutrone) did the amazingly generous act of finding a workable used one and then flew it down to me here. So, new computer. Also, this is my first full day here in my site since my last bit of vacation ended, and third full day in the month of September. Finally (just for now), I am the only peace corps volunteer here in Victoria. The inevitable has happened, and actually it happened three weeks ago. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending) I have not had to come to grips with Gen’s departure yet because ever since she left I have been entertaining friends or going to PC mandated trainings. But no more.

I just want to throw out this bit of Victoria knowledge for you guys, too, even at the risk of sounding like I am whining. The loaf of wheat bread I just bought at the grocery store in San Pedro Sula is nearly gone after, you got it, one full day here in Victoria. Why? No power from 6:30 this morning until 4pm meant that lunch was tuna fish sandwiches (followed by pb&j for dessert). And rains starting at 5pm meant that water in every faucet came out looking like chocolate milk an hour later and so dinner was grilled cheese sandwiches (followed by pb&j for dessert). After a couple of weeks outside of this sleepy little town I was not expecting this kind of welcome, but what are you gonna do?

September 22
Yes, its Monday and I DID run today for the first time in two months! That’s the good news—the bad is that work kind of took a backseat to stupid little errands that occasionally dominate my mornings such as getting vegetables and/or tortillas, a new water jug, cleaning supplies for clothes and the house, etc. I have one design I should finish and turn in this week and another that is nearly done but has altitude issues. After three weeks of being mostly out of Victoria and away from work I have an intense desire to not get on another chicken bus for several months and to bury myself in work. That last one is probably a symptom of Gen leaving, too, but the truth is I have no time to be bummed about it because later this week her replacement arrives. A new pc volunteer here in Victoria to continue with the work Gen started—I don’t envy her a bit! But that will be exciting and I vow to do more for the newbie than Gen (“The Ice Queen”) did for me when I first arrived. Haha, kind of a joke…kind of not!

Bueno, so where did the last two months go, you ask? I don’t know exactly but they did go quickly. The last entry was in early July and two weeks later it was bottling day for our beer-making experiment. Here are some pics:

This consists only of boiling some sugar water (me), adding it to an empty 6 gallon bucket (me again), siphoning the bucket of wort that was fermenting in my closet for two weeks into the new bucket (Gen, finally), then slowly filling bottles (me) and capping them (Gen). Much quicker than the beer making day and with a much better payoff—individual bottles of a nearly beer-like substance! The bottles then went back into the closet to ferment for another two weeks…

In the meantime there were only two noteworthy events for the rest of the month. The first was that Gen and I met up with some of her friends and hiked the highest peak in Honduras, Celaque, at a whopping 2849 meters above sea level. This is not nearly the hike that La Picucha is though it definitely has challenging parts to it. Everything was made much easier by the fact that one of Gen’s friends is dating a Canadian volunteer who has a car—it’s a tough road from Gracias, the town at the mountain’s base, to get to base camp. Luckily we did not have to sweat that. It rained most of our time hiking but there were some unbelievably beautiful sites along the way, including a cloud forest for the last two or so hours to the top.

Then the last week of July I joined up with a new wat/san volunteer who lives in a town 2.5 hours from Victoria, the only other wat/san’er in the department of Yoro. She brought her theodolite and we did a brutal study of the conduction line of an aldea in the mountains. The study was brutal for a couple of reasons—first was that the water source for the village in question is in the bosque on the other side of a completely different aldea. So with a normal study you have a rough first day or two because you are slowly working your way out of the forest and making it towards the town. Not with this one. Because our goal was not the village closest but another one entirely we actually had to cut the long away through everything to get to the best point from which to leave the area. For each of the first three days we had successively longer hikes from the houses where we were staying to the points where we had finished the previous day—it is counter-intuitive, of course, and was brutal.

For some reason this study brought out the worst in our skin, as well. First off, both Emelina (the volunteer helping me out) and I have eczema and at the end of the week it was pretty well taking us over. It has been almost a non-issue for me here in Honduras, gracias a Dios, but after this study it was devouring my hands—MUCH, much worse than I’ve ever had it. Aliens were building little cities on my fingers is what it looked like, painful cities. Poor Emelina had it along her waist and all over her legs. So, there’s the eczema. Then there was other stuff. Along the way we encountered a fairly substantial thicket of thorns and had to get through it. I being the idiot gringo, grabbed the machete of an older gentleman and joined the rest, hacking away. Literally everything we were swinging at was covered in thorns but somehow I was the only one whose follow through carried his hands into said thicket…several times. There were probably a dozen little blood streaked mini-cuts on my hands and fingers after this little adventure. Much better than my compatriota, though, who somewhere along the way managed to get microscopic insects in her skin. A month later she could not join us for a going-away party for Gen because she was still getting rid of the buggers. Yikes.

By the way, I realize that I forgot to mention something. This new computer I am using (which is awesome, Joe) unfortunately does not have DVD capability. Which is fine except it means that my Arrested Development discs, the ones that just recently found their way back home to Victoria, are likely to sit and gather dust for my remaining eight or so months here. And that means no clever blog entry titles…

September 27
Saturday now and the week has been a good one. I made it back to give computer classes to my fifth and sixth graders, so that was excellent, and I have very nearly finished a design of another aldea. The other major thing I had to do this week was sort through the load of stuff Gen left for me. Some of it was ok (medical supplies), most of it was not (EVERY SINGLE spice she had in her kitchen, most of which I already had). A completely empty coffee creamer jug was among the contents, as well. Completely empty. Coffee creamer. I don’t drink coffee (she knows this), but even if I did it would have served little purpose because it was completely…empty. Thanks for that, carrot!

Back to the past two month review…we were done with July, no? August does not have a lot written all over it but it was a memorable month. That conduction line study that destroyed my skin (eczema, death by a thousand cuts) went into the first few days of the month. A few days later was the BIG day…beer tasting day!! Gen and I handled it very casually, very much without pomp and circumstance—after all, we weren’t sure it wasn’t going to taste like cardboard water. We lucked out, though, and it was remarkably good. It ended up being a medium-bodied brew that had a malty character surrounded by a nutty aroma—but that’s just how I would describe it! It was an English Brown Ale according to the beer kit and the taste of a dark beer on my lips was something special. Gen and I would be on occasionally divergent paths throughout her final three weeks but every time we were both in Victoria we enjoyed our ale and it really only lasted until the end of the month.

Next thing I did in August was two days after beer tasting night and it might seem like a minor thing. Pele and Tek needed their rabies shots so I walked them twenty minutes to the spot, each of them on leashes (they are not used to and do not like leashes). Both received their shots without much trouble, but the incident does highlight a marked difference between mother and son that you, the loyal readers of El Amor Prohibido, should have some passing knowledge of. Pele is Tek’s mom, as you already know, but what you may not know is that Pele is not Honduran. No, and I know this may come as a shock to some. Gen rescued her as a tiny, malnourished pup on a trip to Guatemala in December of 2006. There is no telling what she had endured to that point, of course, but to be sure it left some sort of imprint on her. But lets stick to what we know—Pele is what I would call an excellent guard dog. She barks at every unknown person that approaches Gen’s front gate, period. She also barks at every single dog that even walks down the street, but that’s neither here nor there.

Pele’s affection is not easily won over but once she knows who you are she lavishes all kinds of love on you. I love this part of her. Love for owner and close friends, acceptance for people who make occasional appearances, rage and terror for everyone else. When I am gone visiting an aldea and come back to Victoria, the first time I see Pele she is jumping and clawing at the gate, whining and shrieking with joy.

Tek is quite the opposite. He is equal opportunity with his affection and has plenty for whoever walks through his (my) front gate. His reaction to my return from a trip of several days is one that I wouldn’t quite call indifference so much as muted joy—he remains in the position I found him in when I approached the gate. His eyes are fixed on me but his tail is only barely moving. I open the gate and step onto the front porch and there is still little tail movement. I turn and close the gate, then turn and head for the front door and only then does he jump up and begin the violent shaking of his butt and tail simultaneously. It’s a reaction that says, “I know who you are and, frankly, I’m not super impressed. I do love that you give me food and rub my belly, though!” People who have not seen him before are often scared of Tek because he is getting bigger, but I have zero fears that he would ever harm anyone—he loves everyone. As such, not a great guard dog.

What this comes down to, of course, is that Tek is extremely comfortable with and trusting of people and his mother trusts almost no one. This was never more apparent than when I took them both to get the rabies shot. Pele, nearing the age of two, has had this done before, and between her and her son should be the seasoned pro. No dog likes getting shots, I think is safe to say, but all dogs do not react the same. Tek was sitting upright, I held his mouth closed at the doc’s request, and he gave Tek the shot. It was over in about two or three seconds and Tek didn’t flinch, budge, whine, nothing—he sat stoic and calm. It was kind of amazing. We tried the same technique with Pele but as the doc approached she bolted. In the end we had to surround her with three or four men as I held her while the shot was administered. The whole time her head was swinging back and forth, eyes wild with fear. Pele was not the worst dog I saw at this makeshift rabies shot clinic, but she was nothing like her offspring!

Moving on, we’re now into the second half of August. I had a topo study to do of a small village and Gen wanted to see what all this wat/san nonsense was about and asked if she could come along. “Of course,” I said, wondering how our occasional shouting match would go over in an aldea of 120 people. That’s a joke, we rarely resort to shouting—its mostly passive aggressive stuff, really. Anyway, we were gone for 5 or 6 days and it ended up being one of my more memorable topo studies. There are only 19 houses but the majority are all packed in closely. That, in addition it being one of the more remote villages I have worked in, made the arrival of not one but two gringos an irresistible show that none of the children were going to miss. Seriously, within twenty minutes of our arrival after the first day of work, I had probably seventeen males between the ages of 5 and 22 surrounding me—Gen was similarly swarmed by the girls. The rest of the week preceded as such, both Gen and I directing our respective clans in an all-out gender battle. I had a few girls who were amused by my antics but its pretty clear Gen was the far superior at gaining defectors. A very fun week to say the least and another cool aspect was that Gen, along solely to see how I do a topo study and learn the ropes herself at first, brought her own expertise to the aldea. By the end of the week she had identified two children who had slight defects with their mouths, taken pictures of them and spoken to their parents. These are defects which can be fixed for free by a medical brigade from Cuba, I think, and from working with the doctors earlier in her service, Gen knows when and where the next instance of the clinic will be. It goes without saying that I had not even noticed the defects in question (in my defense, they are small and have to do with the INSIDE of the mouth), forget about the fact that I had no knowledge of the medical brigade or the services they offer. Had it been left to me these children would not have had a chance! But that was the incredible aspect to the week—we were two volunteers from completely different programs and each of us brought unique skills to the town and helped out in distinct ways. And used the aldea’s children to torment one another instead of doing it ourselves.

To round out August (and that will be the end of this entry), the final week I was in Victoria. There was nothing spectacular about this week but it was the final one for Gen in Victoria, so it was definitely sad. We had a going away party for her one night that luckily managed to be a surprise right up until the moment she arrived. It turned out pretty nicely and there were a lot of people from the town there, so it was all good. I taught classes that week as well and visited a completely new town that just had repairs done to its system, but all in all it was mellow. Gen left Victoria for good on the first of September and later that morning I left for what would be essentially three solid weeks. Those three weeks will be captured in an amateurish way in the blog entry that follows…

I miss you guys.

September 28
Just for the official record—power went out four separate times in the last seven days and currently there is no running water. I love Victoria, but this has been a rough week!

Now, in honor of her successful completion of Peace Corps service and departure from Honduras, I leave you with a Genevieve tribute. Enjoy…

PS--Ok, there is internet in Victoria now (just in time for Gen´s departure!) but at 10min a pop to load a photo, I´ll do the pictures once I am somewhere else.

Alias is a show about a spy…

2008-07-10T14:52:00.000-07:00

(Just so we’re clear I have not watched an episode of Arrested Development since October and those dvds have been all over Honduras in the care of other volunteers.)

Hey everyone, its early July and I’m back with another entry. So if youre doing your biannual check of my blog you’ve missed a good…couple entries! Seriously, sorry about not being consistent with this guy. Ok, so in May I went back to the States and in June I posted some pictures of the trip and that’s about all. And that’s all I will do about that because El Amor Prohibido is NOT about weeklong benders spent in the USA drinking snow peak peach boone’s. Which, by the way, is the best flavor of boone’s (isn’t that right, Bleaker?)…

Ok, as I recount events in my head and my journal it turns out that June was actually a somewhat busy, exciting month—don’t worry, I wont subject you to all of it. The first three weeks were in fact dedicated to doing a topo study in the northern part of the municipio and once that was canceled I suddenly had an empty month on my hands. When I say three weeks I don’t mean it would have taken that long but that each of the first three weeks, separately, was set aside for the study. It was going to be the first week but then my buddy who has the theodolite we need had a scheduling conflict. Second week it was postponed to the third week because of transportation questions and other miscellaneous ridiculousness on everyone’s part. And then, at the beginning of the third week it was finally canceled once and for all when it was discovered that a topo study that had been previously done for the community (and very recently, apparently) was found in the mayor’s office. Scheduling conflicts and transportation issues were swept aside and I decided it was not necessary to do the same study twice, especially since there are many, many other communities that have never had a study done for them.

Since I was in Victoria more than expected I spent my time teaching my computacion classes and working on other system designs that needed fixes here and there. At the end of that first week I did decide to go south to Tegucigalpa and hang out with a couple of friends to watch game one of the nba finals. Not a bad decision at all. When week two opened up it really opened up because not only was the study postponed again but there were also no classes all week. Gen and I were hanging out one afternoon and we decided that on a whim we would go to San Pedro Sula the next day and bring each of our dogs to the vet. Small back story here for Gen’s dog, Pelé: while I was gone in the States one afternoon Gen was walking with her dog when a bolo riding a bicycle rammed into Pelé and screwed up one of her paws. Ever since I had been back it had been an obvious problem; she was limping everywhere she went and one of the nails was hanging loosely and awkwardly. So Gen wanted to get Pelé repaired and it was about the time for Tek to be “fixed” anyway. In the middle of the week we hopped onto the morning bus, dogs in tow, and kind of dominated the back row—everyone boarding the bus and heading towards the back to find a spot to sit was immediately intimidated by the sight of two, not-so-small dogs occupying seats. Our dogs are very chill dogs, though, and there were no incidents, gracias a Dios, of either the ‘attacking other passengers’ or ‘exploding bladders’ variety. It was seriously an impressive display—this trip, one way, is over four hours and they were fine the whole time. We had to leave the dogs at the vet overnight so once we dropped them off we did some errands and also caught the best Celtics game of the season—the Game 4, 20 point second half comeback win in L.A. to take a 3-1 series lead!!

Things went well with the vet—Pelé is all healed and able to walk without limping and after a week or so of me having to clean and hydrogen peroxide his newly sensitive area, Tek is good as well and we are back on speaking terms. Nothing out of the ordinary happened the week following but in the last week of the month I was able to go to a super-small community (14 houses, around 80 people) and complete a study. I had not done a study since the end of April so it was nice to get back on the horse and though the work itself went without incident the story of the week is the family I stayed with. Very generous, very sweet, and arguably the best looking family in Honduras! I know that must sound a bit odd but I’ll include a picture so you know what I’m talking about.

There are ten children in total but only six of them were in the house when I was there—three live in San Pedro and another one is in the States. The youngest, two girls aged 8 and 10 years, were schooling me as we ate dinner the first night about how I should call them “niñas” instead of “chicas” because the latter term is used only once someone has reached adolescence. They used that word, too, adolescence, and when I gave them a hard time and asked what age that was supposed to mean, the 10 yr old looked at me matter-of-factly and said, “15 years, silly.” OK then. Great family. And did I mention that in this village of 80 people in the mountains that I was actually able to watch the two European Cup semifinal games?! The family I stayed with is the only one in the village that has a solar plant, so they also have electricity. On a side note, what a great final, too--¡Viva España! (Oh, and heres a view from that town the morning that I left.)

And except for one last thing that pretty much catches you all up. Last week was an uneventful one of teaching and a failed attempt to visit an aldea in another municipio that has a rainwater system. The last thing is that a couple of days ago Gen and I embarked on a bold journey—we made our own beer!! Well, we steeped the grains and boiled the malt extract with the hops and once that was all done, pitched the yeast…you know what I’m talking about. Now the experiment is sitting in a bucket in my closet where it will remain for the next two weeks. After that we bottle the beer, wait another two weeks or so and then…beer time!! This being both of our first times at this I’m not really expecting it to turn out like anything other than murky, cardboard water. But the fun’s in the effort, right?

Ok, that’s it from Honduras for the moment. I hope all is well with everyone. Much love, Joe.

Yea, I can see marinating a chicken in that...

2008-06-05T16:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, I have been back from the colonies for a couple weeks now and I have to say the trip was fantastic. First off I have to thank Lever and his parents, Sarat, and Cutrone for their generous hospitality, even if it did come with the "Joe, youre not paying--youre the only one of my friends who makes less than me" line every so often! Seriously, guys, thank you so much, you did too much but it was very much appreciated! I also want to thank Magri, Reif, and Bacon--not that you guys did much but it was great to see you too. There was no time to pre-write this and make it eloquent (or coherent) so I will leave you now with just a few pictures (this first one is me and Tek the morning I left Victoria) and get back to write a real update soon. I hope everyone is well.

This is the best man and I about to roast the groom at a pre-wedding dinner...

...this is the happy couple cutting the cake...

...my dog's namesake, up to bat after having crushed a solo shot at Camden Yards in Baltimore (the Sox lost)...

...the boys just outside of the Preakness...

...and here is what the Preakness was inside. Go USA!!

You’ll have plenty of time for ice cream in prison…ice cream sandwiches!

2008-05-04T10:12:00.000-07:00

Fast forward to the final half inning: we are at the hour mark but its clear the umpire/tournament organizer (who is wearing an authentic replica Cubs uniform from head to toe for some reason) is going to let San Luis have its final swings before the game is called. Our pitcher is tired and not nearly as effective as earlier and after four batters there are runners on second and third with two outs. It is at this point that he calls to be replaced—my first thought is “C’mon! Are you kidding me, Fernando?! You’re one out away from finishing this thing off!” Plus there’s the whole issue of someone not warmed up being called in to make sure no one crosses home plate when there are already two runners in scoring position. I don’t say any of this, though, and it ends up being the decision Grady Little never made but should have in ’03 against the Yanks. Our relief pitcher (and game 2 starter) comes in throwing hard and getting strikes and the PC volunteer from San Luis gives me a look that says, “Where did SHE come from?!” With two strikes and two outs the batter is free swinging and after a couple of fouls he pops one up toward second. You guys can imagine that with 10-12 yr olds who have just learned the game that routine plays are anything but—up to that point every time a ball was hit into the field of play the batter had reached base safely. So there is this moment where the ball is just hanging in the air, the runners are heading home, and Gen and I are both screaming something stupid in slow motion. But our second baseman catches the ball and we win!

In the second game of the tournament Minas de Oro stomped all over the team we had just barely beaten and their score was 10-0. The team from Minas does not have a PC volunteer as a coach and they are oddly disciplined and very, very good (weird). As batters they hit home runs, as fielders they scoop up the ball and accurately throw to whatever base they want like its nothing. No one…drops…anything. It’s bizarre and I seriously can’t imagine there are children this age looking much more proficient at the sport in the traditional powerhouse countries that dominate it. After watching that second game suddenly our guys and girls are completely lacking motivation for the final, even after Mr. Cubs Uni explains that the winner gets a trophy and goes to Tegucigalpa to play in the national tournament.

The game begins and our squad bucks up and looks ready for the test. We get a couple of baserunners but don’t score in our half of the first; they get one run in the bottom half. After three or four innings we are hanging with them, 3-1, and everyone at the field is excited. We have to make a pitching change in the fourth and he is throwing alternately lasers or moonbeams and as a result walks three batters and strikes out two. So the bases are loaded with two outs and the first two pitches to the next batter are strikes. “Whew,” I think, “we’re almost out of this one.” The next pitch is hit for a grand slam and that’s the ball game. We score once in our half of the final inning for a respectable 7-2 final, but we know it could have been different. We just know it.

So with baseball complete I left Victoria the week following (last week) and did a water project. This was kind of cool, actually—I took a bus and went the long way around the municipality to get to a village up in the north. From there I visited two villages a day and stayed in a different one each night as I slowly made my way, by foot or horseback, back to Victoria. The plan this time was to do aforos, or measurements of each community’s water source, to see if they can sustain the population during the dry season. During the rainy season there is water coming out of every hole in the ground but some institutions will not give money to a project unless there is proof that the aforo was done in the dry season. So I went from one aldea to the next, hiking up to the fuente with my 5 gallon bucket and camera and taking pictures of the guys measuring the output. In the morning I would do one village, come down and have some coffee or a bit of food with a generous family and then in the afternoon some representatives would arrive (sometimes with a horse) to take me to their village.

It is never usually more than a one hour walk from one town to the next but the last day, Friday, was a different story. We left in the morning from one village and did a nearly two hour hike up to its fuente. Once we finished measuring the flow we came back and I was handed off to a group from another village about twenty minutes away. When we had finished measuring their fuente we began what is normally a three hour hike to a town that is a one hour bus ride from Victoria. But three hours is really if you are walking the whole time and though I did not have much hope of catching that last bus to Victoria (when I had done this same trip in late October I ended up having to walk the hour-plus from the town in question to another town and taking a bus the last thirty minutes to Victoria), I did want to give myself as much daylight as possible to not only do the walk to the next town over but possibly catch a jalón back to Victoria. Luckily, so many aldeas have put me on horseback since my time here began that I have now perfected the sustained trot—its not a gallop, don’t be ridiculous. But it is a trot. So whenever possible my companion and I were at a trot and the stars aligned because we arrived in town just over two hours after leaving and not five minutes before the last bus left for Victoria!

And that brings us to this week. Unfortunately the news of this week is that I came down with something shortly after returning from my weeklong excursion. Bacterial stomach infection is the verdict, much better than the dreaded malaria or dengue, and I am well on my way with antibiotics. Classes will continue in the first part of next week and then I am off to the States to join some friends and go to a wedding! Below are some pics I did not include in the first half of this blog entry (published on Wednesday, Apr 30).

The top of La Picucha as seen from the first day of hiking...

...crossing one of the streams on a nature-built bridge...

...views along the way...

...and reunited at the summit!

Mistake? What would I have made a huge mistake about?

2008-04-30T09:08:00.000-07:00

OK, I am back at the blog and apologize for the long delay between entries. I am sure that all seven of you who read this look to it on a weekly basis to lighten your loads and fill you with mirth and I am sorry for holding out so long. As you may have noticed the blog delay was accompanied by an email delay of greater length and there really is no good reason either happened. I had some unexpected trips into Tegucigalpa here and there over the past couple of months and each time I had not spent the proper time either answering emails or updating the blog here on my laptop so when I arrived there was nothing for me to send. But enough about that…
The last blog entry was towards the end of the first week in March and the reason I was in Yoro in the first place was to buy some ingredients for a baseball team dinner that Gen and I hosted for our guys and girls the night before the regional tournament (devotees will recall that the torneo was originally scheduled for March 8). The dinner with the players and their parents was a hit and then that night, for the first time in over a week, it started to rain. It rained all night and we woke the next morning and got the call from the tournament organizer that it had been postponed. Everyone was geared up and ready to go and then nothing; it was very disappointing.

So that was that. The next few weeks were kind of a blur of me continuing to teach computer classes and throwing in some aldea visits on my non-teaching days but the only big thing happened the week before Easter, or Semana Santa here. As it turned out that was the week of my birthday, too, and I want to thank all of you guys for your care packages, emails, and phone calls—you are an all-star group!! That is a week where no one works and things basically shut down country-wide. Most people flock to the beaches here but I joined a group of about ten volunteers and we went to hike La Picucha, which is the highest peak in the department of Olancho. It was an excellent trip and I will throw in some pictures here:

*************************

We entered the bosque on a Wednesday and hiked out on Saturday and in between there were lots of peanut butter sandwiches, the occasional can of sardines (w/ chili sauce, of course), granola bars, stream water with iodine tablets, small tents and rain. The rain actually came the night before we reached the summit and lasted for a good twenty hours or so, well into our descent. That wasn’t too bad but it did mean that at the top we were in a cloud and could not see anything. But the trip was a great way to hang out with some people I had not seen since September or longer. That first meal after finishing, the first meal in four days that was cooked, was so good—I almost overdosed on peanut butter during the hike.

I had some water project trips postponed because of rain so the next couple of weeks were just me in Victoria teaching a couple days a week and visiting some new aldeas on the other days. Around Final Four time I decided I had missed out on enough major sporting events (World Series, Super Bowl, etc.) so I went to stay with a buddy in the south of Honduras who has a nice cable setup. There was a small group of us volunteers there watching some disappointing semifinal games and an amazing championship game. I still cant believe how good that Memphis/Kansas final was—and it came down to free throws after all!! Rock. Chalk. Jayhawk.

The last two work weeks I have been out of Victoria doing water stuff. Two weeks ago I went with an engineer friend of mine and we did a topo study in an aldea about two hours from here. Not much to tell about this one: I had been in the aldea a week or two before to visit a water source of a nearby town and it was super-dry, the roads nothing but dirt and rock and dust…naturally, the week my friend and I were up there it was raining and extremely muddy. It delayed us a bit but not too much and I was able to spend Friday of that week getting our baseball team’s jerseys for the big regional tournament the next day, Saturday.
Ok, so heres a big sports buildup for really a very small time event…but here goes nothing. Three teams in this mini torneo, one spot for a trip to the nationals in Tegucigalpa in June. The teams: Victoria, San Luis, and the host team, Minas de Oro. Minas de Oro has represented our region in the national tournament as long as anyone here can remember and with beat our humble Victoria squad last year by a score of 15-2, I believe. That Victoria team was coached by Gen and, though they did not win a game, did get an alternates spot in the nationals by virtue of having scored a lot of runs. We play San Luis first and the winner takes a break while the loser plays Minas in the next game. First game and our big pitcher, who is often as wild as Mitch Williams during practice, is on the mark and is striking batters out like it’s his job. San Luis’ pitcher also throws hard but is a little off the mark and actually walks in two runs for us in the first, 2-0. These games are only an hour long or five innings, whichever comes first, and the next few innings are tense but very even with no runs scored.

Another unexpected trip to Yoro so I´ll paste what I have and leave you in suspense about the results of the tournament. More to come very soon...

On an A.D. dry streak...

2008-03-07T06:51:00.000-08:00

Ok, so shoot me—I haven’t had my Arrested Development discs in my possession since December and hadn’t watched them for two months before that. So theres no clever quote, I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll just change the name of the blog.

Where were we? Last I wrote was towards the end of January and now we’re into March so I guess theres some updating to be done. First off, I have to say that last week my pup Tek nearly died but that now he is back to good health. It started on a Monday morning and the first two days of the week I was out in an aldea from early morning until late afternoon and so didn’t really appreciate what was happening as fast as I would normally have. He caught something, distemper maybe, perhaps a bacteria of some sort, and would not eat or drink anything for nearly three days straight. No food, no water, nothing, and as a result his pudgy little body wasted away slowly until he looked like a heap of fur and bones. His nose was white he was so dehydrated and because he only wanted to find the darkest corners of my backyard to lay in he was covered in dirt and spiderwebs—it was pathetic and looked like he was not going to make it. I had to feed him electrolyte rich serum through a syringe for three days and he wasn’t even keeping that down for about a day and a half; there was nothing but throwing up for awhile. Towards the end of the week he started to be able to keep the serum down and then it was water and after a couple of days he could drink some milk. He started throwing up for the first time on Monday morning and it was nearly an entire week after that moment before he ate his puppy chow again, but eventually he got back to normal. Now he is back to his old self, eating a ton and playing with his mom and its been a huge relief. One of his sisters caught the same thing and died during the week Tek was so sick—she was even bigger and chubbier than he. Fortunately it passed, though, so when Tek was doing his crazy, puppy shriek/bark last night at a toad that was in the patio, I couldn’t help but smile.

In other news there has been some work with studies and designs and water stuff but the story of the past few weeks has been what PC calls secondary projects. First off, Gen and I had a baseball tryout early in the month for our youth team because the regional tournament is Mar 8. We had been kind of half-assing practices and with each of us gone here and there for various errands and projects it just was not conducive to a consistent showing for or from the children. So I went to the schools and made announcements for the tryout in the 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th grade classes while Gen put up posters and did a schpeel on the local cable access channel. The “prueba” went well and we made a roster of 22 or so players and then have been practicing pretty consistently for the last few weeks. Yesterday we whittled that list down to the 15 allowed to travel to the tournament and this Saturday, Mar 8, we go to a nearby town and test our baseball mettle. Go Victoria!!

The other new thing in life here is that I am now teaching computers to the fifth and sixth graders. There isn’t some funny story associated with this storyline, at least not yet, and it just started this week. The water system work is plenty, to be sure, and if I didn’t do anything but aldea visits and topo studies and designs I’d be busy for the rest of my time here given this municipality’s water scene. That said, it is a nice change to actually be doing some consistent work in the town where I live, interacting with children and teachers and parents…a new chapter to life here in Victoria.

In water news I returned to that town where I finished the conduction line study at the end of January. This is the one where I encountered the tick problem that this time of year brings—oh, and on that note, I was wrong about ticks replacing the mosquitoes. I thought the dry season (dry and hot as a mofo!) would mean the end of the blood sucking bastards, but that’s not the case. The mosquitoes now are a new breed, the next generation of horrible flying insects—these guys are invisible, I swear, and I’ve been bitten three times before I even know there are any damn mosquitoes in the room! When I got here these guys were slow and dumb and as a result the walls of my living room are peppered with smashed mosquito carcasses. Nowadays they fly fast and low and don’t hug the walls…I swear I hardly ever even see them now, I just have the itchy bites to let me know theyre around.

Anyway, I went back to that town to finish the study of their distribution network this past week (when Tek was busy throwing up a lung). I had mentioned in the weeks previous to people how many garrapatas our group had encountered along the way in January when we were heading out there and the response I got was always something similar to this: “Oh, that town? Yea, you take one step off the road going out there and youre gonna get some garrapatas on you.” The day I finish the study of the distribution network I am walking back to Victoria and decide to stop and cool off for a bit. Its blazing hot, we’ve finished earlier than expected, and theres no reason for me to be killing myself with the pace I’ve set, I think to myself. Might as well step off the road in a nice shady spot, pick a smooth rock to sit on, and just relax and drink some water. So I do just that. The words of the people who have told me about “stepping one foot off the path” are lingering in my head and I smile because I know its hyperbole, even if just barely. I take two steps off to the roadside (the ground appears to be just dried leaves), sit on a smooth rock in the shade, and even decide to keep my backpack slung over one shoulder instead of plopping it on the ground, just in case. I uncap my water bottle, take a few swigs, and enjoy the cool air in the shade as a breeze rolls across me. Glancing at the ground around me, I think how theres little chance that anything is living anywhere near here…and then I look more closely at my jeans and see that my right leg is now covered in tiny garrapatas.

No clever title, no update...

2008-02-21T07:21:00.000-08:00

...just some overdue pictures. An update to arrive in the coming weeks...

Here is that artsy, leave-more-to-the-imagination shot of Victorias feria, taken mid January.

And here we have a couple shots of Tek--at rest and mid-fight/training conducted by his mother, Pele.

Well, Michael, I did not find their buffoonery amusing...

2008-02-01T12:38:00.000-08:00

It’s the last week in January now and its getting hot here. The dry season has kicked in now and the temperatures are climbing—apparently March and April are the worst here. The arrival of this new season means less in the way of mosquitoes and that our non-paved roads will not be made into mud. The flip side is it is now tick season and the roads here become extremely dusty…it’s a fair trade, I’d say. The tick thing would not be so bad if I were, say, a lame “Youth Development” volunteer (that’s for Gen…even though she doesn’t read this blog) and the most I dealt with the outdoors was my daily walk to school and back. But as a Water/Sanitation volunteer I find myself mostly cutting through land where the only path is the one created by the guys with machetes in front of me. OK, that’s all a little dramatic—Gen does much more than teach in the schools and I am not nearly as cool as what you might think a wat/san volunteer would be. Needless to say, the change in seasons and all that entails was made very clear last week.

The week in question I was finishing up the topo study for a community that already has a water system design but has significant problems. This is the system (I think I mentioned it in an earlier entry) where there are tubes in the ground (for the conduction line) and the tank is built and sitting atop the community. It’s just that the water does not arrive to the tank but somewhere 70-80 meters below—that says not enough pressure. But the other major problem is along the way there are several spots where the tubes, buried in the ground, have cracked and are leaking water—too much pressure. This system was built six years ago but there is no copy of the design so I decided to map the terrain again so we could see where exactly the problems were and then go from there. Step one was this past week when we finished the study. This week I put the numbers into our spreadsheet and did the design as much as I was able and will send it off for someone much smarter than myself to review—that is step two.

During the week where step one was accomplished I was formally introduced to the seasonal changes that wet to dry brings here in Victoria. The second or third day of the study I notice that the guy walking with me is consistently slapping at his jeans with a twig. Now at this point in my time here I had heard much of the tick (garrapata) and seen little—Gen was constantly picking them off her dog when I arrived in May of last year and on a couple of studies I did last month before Christmas I overheard guys talking about “garrapatas” several times. But I had yet to really witness anything myself (I had picked ONE tick off of me in the eleven months I had been here and that was during training) so I ask him what he is doing. He responds “garrapatas” so, thinking this is my chance to finally see what the fuss is about, I ask him to show me some when we come across them next. Not three minutes later he gets my attention and points at my jeans. I look down and my right lower leg is covered with at least two or three dozen little specs of dirt. Of course these specs of dirt are moving ever so slowly along my jeans and suddenly I realize the genius of having a twig in-hand to swat at my leg.

You guys may be old pros when it comes to garrapatas but this was a new experience for me. I had only seen them in the past once they had reached a much bigger size—I couldn’t get over how effing SMALL the ones we encountered were. You could fit several on the head of a pin, I shit you not, and only with the magnifying glass that I carry around on these studies could one see the legs at all. We did not seem to have any problems until that second or third day of the study and from then on the study would pause intermittently here and there for guys to get into various stages of undress to pick the damn garrapatas off. We stopped for lunch one day and guys were picking them off one another’s backs—that’s the kind of good time we were having.

I resisted the temptation to have other men pick off my garrapatas for me and by the weekend (when I was still finding them on me) I had picked off not less than five. I remember reading a couple of blogs of volunteers here in Honduras before I flew down and one guy mentioned having found a tick or two below the equator. At the time I thought it sounded like a pretty horrible thing to happen—now I know its not the end of the world. You just get the tweezers and pull the bastard off! The ticks were not the whole story, either, because somehow I got an even smaller insect on me that was leaving tiny bits up and down my legs and feet for four or five days after we finished the study. These guys are even smaller than the baby ticks and a friend at the health center said all you can do is wait them out—they feed on you for several days and then just die. The itching the bites were causing was awful, and I remember hating life the weekend after the study. So there you go.

This week has just been working on the spreadsheet and starting the design and fighting with Tek about being housebroken but it occurs to me that I did not write anything about the FERIA that Victoria held in the middle of the month. Every January Victoria hosts it’s feria which is sort of a state fair equivalent in the States. It generally lasts about two weeks and apparently is the major party in this town for the year. And now it’s done. But it was pretty impressive—there is one main street on the back side of town that was lined on both sides with vendors selling clothes and jewelry and toys; there were fairground-type games and a whole section of just tables where people were playing card games; mini-restaurants and bars were everywhere as well. Anyway, during the week this street generally got going with people around 4pm and was doing business until midnight—on the weekends it started earlier and lasted later. Victoria is generally a pretty tranquilo, laid back town but this is the type of small town event that EVERYONE comes back for. A large number of families here (as in many towns across the country) have relatives living in the States and a number of them were back in town—many I met told me they never miss a chance to come back and see the feria. Relatives who work or go to school in the bigger cities of Honduras were in Victoria as well for the feria—more people come back for the feria than for Christmas.

In addition to the main street of activities there were events planned throughout the two weeks. There is a local soccer league here and teams from Victoria played against teams from major cities and, in one case, against the farm club of the team that won the professional league title in Honduras. They built a mini bull ring and had several shows—rodeos which became not bull fights (no swords, no blood) but humorous shows wherein a man dressed as a woman would wave his red flag and dance around and avoid the bull. There were also dances every single night for 6 nights in a row, the final one being just for older people—someone told me no one younger than thirty was going to be allowed in. All told it was pretty exciting, especially because for the first seven months here I had gotten used to not a lot of people and not a lot of activity. The feria new and different and exciting but even before it was over I was ready for Victoria to return to its humble self. The one picture I took of the activity on the main street is going to disappoint you literal-minded folks…theres almost nothing to see. You artsy, creative types will appreciate how it hints at festive activity but leaves more to the imagination than anything else!! Right.

PS--Just read some of the ¨comments.¨ Yes, no pictures this week, there was no damn time--they are worth a lot of words (hundreds, perhaps?) As for the history of the Honduran ethnicities, c´mon! You´ll get what I give and like it. Its possible I can work in some social/political/historical commentary in the future, just dont hold your breath. More to come. Which are you all more interested in -- the Super Bowl or Super Tuesday???

My name is Judge...

2008-01-17T08:00:00.000-08:00

Well there, happy 2008!! Its been awhile but I’m back at the blogging scene so you can all sleep a little easier now. I hope everyone had a fantastic holidays and that you bums are now back at work or school! Ok, before I forget, any suggestions regarding Mr. Blog here? Did you guys like the rolling update or do you have other ideas? I have noticed, of course, that after about month four or five that the “Comments” section went bare…this is your end of the deal, kids, so lets try to pick that ball up again.

Not much point trying to recap what happened in the last couple of months, but it was a good time. All of November was essentially a wash, as I think I was mentioning in the last full entry I had, except the last week when I was able to return to one of the villages and fix the problems with the altitude of the (proposed) conduction line. That started an avalanche of work that didn’t end until a few days before Christmas, which was nice, and included essentially completing my first water system design. Whoa, it looks like I am recapping after all! I spent Christmas in my town, which was actually not depressing or lonely at all, and was worth several months of community integration in just the three days leading up to and including Christmas. Walking through town singing carols, exchanging food as gifts, going to a 5 yr olds birthday party, evening mass and a dance on Christmas Eve to name a few things. It was not like being home with friends and family, of course, but it was nice to feel like a part of things here.

Anyway, despite that warm feeling of being in site for Navidad, within a couple of days I got anxious and decided to take a trip to El Salvador. I kind of just picked up and left without really letting anyone (besides Peace Corps) know because I didn’t want the opportunity to slip away. I realize now, after having been in Honduras for almost a year, that time slips away largely unnoticed and before I know it I will be completing end-of-service forms. The trip itself was unspectacular in that I didn’t really intend it to be an adventurous trip—no white-water rafting, no hiking up a volcano, none of that. Just kind of wanted to jump across the border and see some new cities and in that sense it was fun. I went to San Salvador for a couple days and to Santa Ana as well. I loved the activity in the capital and there are a number of Monseñor Oscar Romero sites as well, which were sobering and inspiring. Santa Ana is much more calm and laid back—I sat in the town square for hours one afternoon just people watching. I stayed at backpacking type spots and that was another highlight because they are not expensive and its easy to meet fellow travelers or, in the case of San Salvador, other Peace Corps volunteers. And that was about it, nothing too exciting but a nice trip into an unknown country with sites to see and places to visit.

I came back to Honduras and slept over in San Pedro Sula the night of the Iowa primary because one cannot reasonably make the trip from San Salvador to humble Victoria, Yoro in one day. That was kind of exciting to watch, for both sides of the aisle I suppose, and was reassuring that our country has not entirely lost its mind. That’s it on that subject—El Amor Prohibido is not going to devolve into political commentary this election year. And then I made it back home and it was nice to be back. Making things even nicer were that there were two bodacious babes waiting for me!! Yes, by that I mean my sitemate (and friend) Gen and her friend Meghan Battle.

Since it is a new year I have decided to stop putting “my sitemate” at the beginning of “Gen” any time I mention her. This is the last entry where that will happen and the only entry where I explain this process—“my sitemate Gen” will henceforth be just “Gen”. The five of you reading this blog already know this and I don’t anticipate any new arrivals late to the game. Gen you all know because I have mentioned her on El Amor Prohibido before—Meghan Battle may be a new addition, which if that is the case, I apologize to everyone involved. I met Meg for the first time in the summer of 2007—I had just recently arrived in Victoria after our swearing-in ceremony in May and she came in June to live and work with Gen on a youth project for two months. The two of them had met and become friends in Boston, where Gen worked for a brief time before joining PC and where Meg was (and is) a current student of one of the greatest academic institutions the civilized world has known—namely, Boston College. Yes, so in the span of less than two months in 2007, two BC students (one former, one current) arrived in Victoria, Yoro completely independent of one another.

It goes without saying that Meg is naturally very intelligent, socially aware, stunningly attractive—the hallmarks of a BC student—and that we quickly became friends. (That last sentence is all true except for the “hallmarks” aside; I’m evidence enough of that particular generalization’s blatant inaccuracy.) Anyway, she did her thing here last summer, was another friendly face that helped ease my transition into the pc way of life, and that was that…

…and then I come back from El Salvador, five months later and a mere three days into the new year, and who comes knocking on my gate a few hours after I get into town? Yes, yes, you’re very good—Meg Battle is the answer! She was only in town for a few days this time, but it was time well spent. A few days after I returned the three of us took a mini-break and went to fairly large waterfall near the lake (Lago de Yojoa) and took a tour in and underneath it and did some steep jumps into nearby pools…it was a good time. So there you have it, that pretty much catches things up. Back in Victoria now and there’s plenty of work ahead.

I should note that I am no longer the only resident at the house I am renting here. Gen’s dog, Pele, gave birth to a litter of pups at the end of November—the day after people broke into her house, to be exact. Those pups are now eight weeks old so a few days ago I welcomed in Tek and right now we’re going through the messy process of potty training, among other things. Below is a photo of Tek and I giving our best ¨magnum.¨ More soon...

No, they used to ROAST dad because they thought he had a sense of humor about himself...

2007-12-22T06:50:00.000-08:00

...but he doesnt and neither do you.

Hey everyone, I just broke out the old Arrested Development DVDs for the first time in a couple months (this is why my entry titles have been hurting lately) and came across one of the Christmas episodes...how fitting. I have nothing poetic or profound to say here but I did want to tell you all (except for those of you who I dont know) how grateful I am to have friends and family like you. But thats about as mushy as I want to get. I will be here in my site for Navidad and then who knows where for the new year--if I do something cool I'll be sure to bring mr. camera along to document it. Otherwise, I want to wish everyone a merry christmas and happy new year! Take care of yourselves and enjoy being around your friends and family! Much love from Honduras.
Joe

Oh the weather outside is frightful...

2007-12-17T06:48:00.000-08:00

Its been a brief bit of time since my last entry but in lieu of writing a novel I thought I would bridge the gap with some pictures. Ok, the first few come from that village I described feeling very peaceful at, the one where the church (where I slept) overlooked the soccer field which overlooked valley below...

This is an afternoon shot...

...and this one is bright and early in the morning.

This is an image of the village itself, and you can really see the majority of it here:

And then finally some sunset shots I couldnt pass up...

The next few come from a study I was doing for another village, this one six kilometers to the east of Victoria. Unfortunately the fuente, or water source, for their system is another five and a half kilometers to the north of my town. And because of the massive hills in between, there is no cutting a shorter path between the two points; five and a half km from fuente to Victoria, then six more to their town. This past week we were only able to finish the first leg but it is the harder of the two--anyway, more later. Now the pictures...

A field along the way to the water source...

This is us cutting a path and taking measurements as we slowly work our way back to my town...

...and this is a great shot above Victoria one day as we were returning.

Its been a strange and hectic few weeks since my last entry. First off there was Thanksgiving and while my sitemate Gen and I were out of town celebrating that with friends in different towns, her house was broken into. Not fun at all. The day she found out and returned to Victoria her dog had eight pups, so there was that going on at the same time. She is much better now but was understandably in a bit of a haze for awhile there, not really wanting to do much of anything. Right after that happened I had a rush of work things come together and for three weeks straight was in three different villages, either making repairs to existing topo study problems or initiating studies. It was great to be so busy and get some very good work done but I am glad to be at home in Victoria doing computer work this week. OK, thats it for the moment--I have to run but will say hi again before Navidad! I hope everyone is well.

Joe

turkey day....

2007-11-23T14:54:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! I am truly thankful for all of my family and friends, you are all the best. Enjoy the turkey leftovers...

...there was talk of boiling me into a biscuit at one point

2007-11-16T13:15:00.000-08:00

November 6
It was a little over a week ago that I returned from my five day excursion to the north of the municipality, cold and wet and sick. That next week was largely spent recovering and staying in and it did the trick because I feel much better now. I slept or took naps like it was my job, took a steady dose of medicine Gen had given me, washed my clothes, cleaned up the house a bit, and organized my work stuff but that was largely it for productivity for the week. Gen recently asked me to help out coaching her baseball team of 8 to 12 yr olds so that has been on the agenda as well. I love it because at the moment it is the first honest to goodness work I am actually doing in the town of Victoria. I ran practice on my own on Thursday and Friday because Gen was out of town and that was an experience. “Bad News Bears” is the term that comes to mind—my hopes for a well-oiled baseball machine did not survive the first drill I planned for them. In my defense it was my first practice solo with them, but I failed to grasp just how unimportant they view fielding, or how small some of them are, so I did not anticipate how frightening that throw from the shortstop position to first base would be. Collecting the ground ball I threw towards them was difficult for many and then throwing accurately to the first baseman was just not in the cards. Most of the throws were moon-shots that traveled nearly as far vertically as they did horizontally, very few of which landed within several feet of first. I scrapped the next few drills I had planned because they had an increased degree of difficulty, not something that would have been helpful to anyone. We scrimmaged next, and there were some bright spots, but it is probably enough to say that every time I turned to ask the defense how many outs we had or where the next throw was going the outfielders were lying down or throwing their gloves up in the air and catching them. Hey, we’re not the Red Sox, but we’re working at it…

In other news that endless cloud-cover, nonstop rainy weather that I had in my travels while in the north of the municipality has settled over Victoria itself recently. On Friday afternoon I was talking to a friend who works at the mayor’s office and was planning on visiting a bee farm (????) the next day. He invited me to go along to see it but told me we’d only go if there was sunshine because when it’s cloudy the bees are much more “bravas” or brave/aggressive and we’d get stung. There was sunshine as we had that conversation and since then the sun has not made an appearance. We’re going on four days now of constant drizzling or outright rain and not a speck of blue skies or sunshine. It is actually cold here now—Gen was wearing a scarf yesterday, I am wearing long sleeve shirts and a sweatshirt when I go out, I no longer run the fan at night when I go to bed but now need to go out and find a blanket! It is a climate of mourning, one that seems appropriate due to BC’s first loss of the season. FSU. FSU. C’mon!

November 8
Still no sunshine, still an off-and-on drizzle that makes every path and road here a muddy mess. Some buses can not get to their destinations because of the mud and the hills. It’s still cold but I am healthy again, gracias a Dios, and have not really accomplished a whole lot this week. One of the two communities that I need to return to in order to correct problems with the conduction line gave me the red light for work this week. I had planned on working up there this week but on Monday spoke with a member of the community who had helped carry a pregnant woman from that village down the three hour trek in a hammock. Because of that and other reasons that community will be largely absent this week and unable to do any work on the water system. We re-scheduled for over the weekend because I need to be on the North Coast for a PC meeting in the middle of the next week. So nothing this week but Sunday we’re on through Tuesday when I need to come back.

November 12
Well, the Sunday deal did not happen—it is Monday now and I should be in a village making adjustments to a conduction line. But no. No one showed so I am still here in Victoria, rotting in my current streak of unproductiveness. In two days I leave for that PC meeting and until then I have more Newsweeks to read, I guess. Can’t fix problems in village number one because it requires a piece of equipment I do not currently have and need a wat/san engineer buddy to bring. He’s ocupado at the moment, you know, working near his own site. Understandable. Frustrating, but understandable. Village number two with problems requires only that someone come down and make the journey with me, since it is over three hours and I have only done it once and would likely get lost along the way and end up eating roots and poisonous berries. This is not the first time that my bag has been packed and ready to go and nothing happened. Argh.

The part about the current moment in my life that forces me to smile and enjoy God’s sense of humor is that my week and a half of zero progress has aligned itself perfectly (and coincidentally?) with one of the busiest extended periods in Gen’s schedule. Devotees will remember that my sitemate is named Gen, and while she is as professional as PC volunteers get and generally always has something going on, is not always leading a week-long (and all day Saturday) leadership conference deal for youth in the town and immediately following it up the next day (Sunday) by taking several people from neighboring villages into Tegucigalpa for free cataracts surgery. And this all-hands PC meeting that everyone in the north MUST attend later in the week? Oh, she will not be in attendance because on those dates she is running a training program for midwives in the area. Uh huh. Sounds about right to me. Youth leadership. Cataracts surgery. Midwives training. All in a two week span. What does my similar two week span entail? Several Newsweeks read. Several meals cooked. I washed my sheets. Oh, and I’ll go to this PC meeting. And that’s about it. Excellent. I know that comparing yourself to others is never a great idea and that once I get over this temporary hump that I have a ton of work to get done before Christmas. But at the moment it is as if I am stuck in Groundhog Day and that everyone else is going at warp speed. Dont cry for me, America, I´ll be OK.

...because we're brothers, mom, and we kinda like each other.

2007-10-30T10:52:00.000-07:00

October 12
Just got back yesterday from four days in another part of the country, a department called Olancho, visiting a friend. This friend, who we’ll call “Todd” just happens to be an engineer in my group, so I thought paying him a visit and staying over at his place was the least I could do for the hours of work he put in helping me transfer my topo study notes into something resembling a water system. “Todd” is a very smart guy and very cool to boot and I would have been pretty much nowhere without his help, so from that perspective the week was a good one. I also now have a much better understanding how these gravity-fed water systems will work and how to create a workable system based on only field notes—this was the key part because I did not want to have to run to an engineer every time I completed a study. The downside was the realization that there are significant problems with the water systems I am proposing to design.

At this point I have gone on three separate trips to do studies: the conduction line section of one village, the distribution network section of the same village a couple of weeks later, and the conduction line and distribution network together of the village I visited last week. Trip one of three, obviously the first study I had ever done, looked just like that once all the information was put into the program we use—I made mistakes left and right and the information made very little sense. So that one needs to be re-done. Studies two and three were a huge improvement and much more accurate (made sense and everything), which is nice, except they reveal that the proposed placement of the tubes or the storage tank (or both in one case) is just not going to work. Both these villages I have done studies in have very, very little difference between the altitude of where the water source is and the altitude where the community is located, something that’s obviously crucial to a gravity-fed system. The great part is now I know exactly where the problems begin and end so I can go to the community and say, “from this particular point XYZ we need to lower the conduction line 15 meters until we get to point ABC and from there we’re fine.” But both systems are going to need a lot more work and will not end up exactly how either community had hoped. Asi son las cosas.

October 14
Sunday at the moment and I just had confirmed something I had suspected, something that has become nearly a tradition in recent years…and that is Boston College traveling to South Bend and winning. Let’s be accurate—that happens in Chestnut Hill, too. Ok, ok, I shouldn’t kick a leprechaun when he is down. Yes, I understand that the Irish are going through a season of major growing pains, the kind to be expected when you lose major stars on both sides of the ball to the NFL or to graduation or both. Understood. But this most recent defeat is the fifth in a row between these two schools, if I am not mistaken, and possibly sixth in the last seven meetings. And included in there is a top-10 ranked, Brady Quinn-led Irish squad as well. Can we say “pattern”?! No, ND fans, the students and alumni of Boston College will have none of your, “It’s only because we lost all our stars this year—just wait until next year.” Between ND and BC, this year was just business as usual.

In Honduras news, Friday was my sitemate Gen’s birthday, so there was a little get together at her casa that included the breaded, sesame seed covered, topped with spicy mandarin sauce chicken I mentioned in an earlier entry. Good eatin’! And then Saturday night there was a fiesta in the town hall and that was a very good time, dancing with the locals. More to come.

October 18
Just confirmed plans for next week. Next Tuesday I will take a couple of buses to a town about 5 hrs away (it’s amazing this place is still in my town’s municipality) and from there I will be visiting six or seven villages I have never been to before to see what their water problems are. That will be good, I have been wanting to get out to these communities for awhile but never had the means. Now I have been introduced to a gentleman who works with the Centro de Salud here in Victoria who spends a lot of his time out where I am going next week, so he’ll be showing me around. The whole thing should take around three or four days which means I should come back by Friday or Saturday.

As for the communities where I did topo studies and need to return to, that planning is still ongoing. I have been fortunate to see members of both communities so far in town this week and been able to explain what the deal is with the designs. But at this point I can not say exactly when I can return because of a couple of PC meetings that have been scheduled for November. Frustrating at the moment, I know more for them than it is for me.

October 20
Happy Birthday, Cutrone!

October 22
I have been feeling sick and have not really slept well in recent days but today decided to get up early to run anyway—actually mostly because I’ll be gone for the rest of the week starting tomorrow and won’t have a chance to run. Anyway, my headache and sore throat and stuffy nose ceased to be a burden the moment I looked at my phone…three text messages and a voicemail all telling me the same thing. SOX GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES!!! I had been completely in the dark and for some reason these same friends who broke the great news had disappeared earlier in the week. The last I had heard from anyone was this past Wednesday that they were down 3-1 and game 5 was in Cleveland on Thursday. And then nothing from anyone. Maybe I’m exaggerating; someone did text me on Saturday morning that Boston had won game 5. But aside from that one there were no texts or phone calls all of Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. The tension was excruciating! I did not know until early this morning (Monday) that the Sox won games six and seven, too! Unreal. I know by the time I am able to get to an internet town and post this there is a decent chance the World Series will already be over, but that’s the risk you take with the rolling update, eh?! Go Sox!

October 29
It is a Monday, I am still feeling sick, and that must mean there is good news about the Sox. Congratulations to RED SOX NATION—WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS 2007!!! Was it really just last week that I had gotten word that they were going to the World Series? Yes, yes it was. Did the whole damn series take place from Wednesday to Sunday? Apparently so. Amazing, I don’t know what else to say. And I really shouldn’t try because, unfortunately, I did not see a single game of their playoff run so I have only bits and pieces from people to form a picture in my head of how things went. Man, another come-from-behind seven game ALCS followed by another World Series sweep…that’s crazy. As soon as I get to an internet town I plan on copying and pasting the recaps of every single game I missed. I may do it for Colorado’s NLCS run, too, because from what I’ve heard it sounded like they were on a tear until this week. But you already know about all of that, so I digress…

On Saturday afternoon I returned from my northern-Victoria-village-jaunt ‘07 and not in a good state. As my entry for the 22nd mentioned, I had been feeling sick even before I left but over the course of the week it got worse. The work aspect was good—I saw towns I had never seen and met with the people who know what their water scene is like, saw water sources in the middle of forests, and now have a good idea of who is ready for what. But I left sick and was in places where the elevation is three times what it is here in Victoria just as a cold front moved in to Honduras. I really do not think I saw the sun more than twice over the five days I was gone and it was cold and wet nearly everywhere I visited. Anyway, I came back on Saturday afternoon, having begun the day in a village 3 towns and 6 hrs hike away from Victoria, exhausted and shivering to the bone. I only did 2 hrs of the 6 hr hike on foot, luckily, because I was fortunate enough to be on horseback for the first three hours and then caught a bus for the homestretch which turned the last hour into twenty minutes. I had not showered in five days but the last thing I wanted was to stand under a cold stream of water. Woe is me, I know!

I will say this: my romantic notion of life in these villages has been thoroughly squashed. Although three of the four villages I spent the night in had some sort of solar plant that brought electricity to certain homes until about 9pm, many of the others that I visited during the day did not and almost none of them had latrines of any kind. Part of it is that I was not feeling so hot during the trip, but the experience definitely dragged on me. All of the people were very hospitable and generous, of course, and I did not lack for food or a bed wherever I went. It seemed like I had a cup of coffee every couple of hours during the day; with every new village I encountered there was at least one or two cups in different homes to be had. I have nothing eloquent or profound to say about this, but I still have an image in my head of the final village I stayed the night in. At dinner all seven of the family members crowd into the kitchen to eat in turns by the light of the wood burning stove, the only light and heat source in the house. And these are not malnourished, weak children either, but young men in their late teens or early twenties who have been working alongside dad in the corn or coffee fields for years, and teenage girls who are helping their mother with everything from carrying buckets of water from Lord knows how far away to cooking and cleaning for the entire household; all of them doing the kind of manual labor that would have made me shudder or cry if I were asked to do the same at their age. And still the image of life in these villages has gone from humble and peaceful to exhausting. More to come—I’m going to an internet town mañana and need to get to bed because I’m still coughing up a lung!

Andy Griffith wasn’t the bombshell…?

2007-10-10T15:29:00.000-07:00

October 6
I just got back yesterday from doing a topo study in that town I was supposed to visit a couple of weeks ago but couldn’t because heavy rains had ruined the path. Two men came to my home on Monday morning with one horse between them and we set out for their village (~200 people) soon afterward. It turned out to be a solid three hour trek over very unforgiving terrain, much like I had been warned about. Devotees will remember I was advised against making this particular journey last month because of how difficult it would be…I thought at the very least they were exaggerating. Not so. First off, the three hour trek is exactly that—we left shortly before noon and arrived around quarter past 3pm. Secondly, while the journey itself is a bit less than 10km one way, you are climbing a solid 800 meters in elevation from my town to theirs. Finally, and most unfortunately, the path itself is not nice…nightmare is too strong a word, I think, but difficult doesn’t quite do it justice.

It was raining when we left which did not make things any easier because the first rough patch upon leaving my town is a steep and winding climb on solid rock. This is not gravel but stones the size of your foot and slightly bigger surrounding chunks of exposed boulders. You can imagine how annoying this can be, especially on a steady climb—in wet weather you want to avoid the boulders because they are slick as ice but in dry the smaller stones are anything but a stable place to put your foot. I was on horseback (they brought it for me because they thought I was bringing a whole host of heavy equipment which I was not and because they understand that gringo = hiking burden due to a lack of basic outdoors competency…that’s fair) and they were on foot, the two men accompanying me, which made me feel like a princess. But they were not carrying anything and I had a rather full backpack of clothes, notebooks, some equipment and was not about to refuse their offer of the horse. The horse did not much like the stone climb but was pretty confident and we made our way up without incident. The only other part of the journey worth mentioning came toward the end, deep in a forest where the light of the sun rarely penetrates. There we encountered the part I was most nervous about, the part where the men from two weeks ago said is so nasty even horses fall over. What it amounts to is a twenty minute climb and descent, both fairly steep, over nothing but mud; clay-like at parts and marsh-like at others. The horse did well, especially considering one of the men was walking behind us occasionally whipping him with a small branch over this section—the last thing I wanted the horse to be worried about going over this mud-covered forest was being whipped from behind, but he managed well. There was definitely a spot or two where the depth of the mud surprised even the horse and we stumbled a bit, splashing mud and water everywhere, but overall no issues.

And then we arrived at the village. My decision to not bring a camera was an unfortunate one, both because from atop the village I suspect you can capture the entire 25 houses, school, and church that encompass it AND because this village opens up onto a valley on the other side and the surrounding mountainous areas as well. It is a very impressive view to say the least. I won’t go through a day by day list of what all we did but will run briefly through some of the highlights. Shortly after we arrived there was a small town meeting where I mentioned what I would be doing and what I needed from them and the town discussed other organizational items among themselves. After we had everything concerning the work covered, one of the ladies in charge put out this question to the assembled group—“Ok, so who is going to feed him?” And there was silence. A prolonged silence. It was, for nearly a minute, one of the most awkward situations I think I have been in. No one said anything, everyone kind of absently looked around the room, waiting for someone else to say something. After awhile I started to suddenly not feel so awkward as I realized that sooner or later they would figure it out. That I was in fact there to help them AND that they had known I was coming for several weeks at least. At no point was I worried that the lady in charge would walk over to me and say, “I’m sorry. We can’t find anyone who will feed you. We’ll take you home now.” Then someone brought up tortillas and they were talking about that for a bit and I absent-mindedly kept one ear to the conversation as I chuckled to myself about the uniqueness of the situation. Then the lady in charge got my attention and asked me, “How many tortillas do you eat in a day?” I was stunned with the question; I was sure it was a joke even as part of me knew that it was not a joke at all. I unconsciously made a weird face, I’m sure, as I tried to rack my brain to find an appropriate answer, and there were clearly others in the room who appreciated the awkwardness of the scene because no sooner did I hesitantly offer a number than several people began laughing hysterically. I couldn’t help but laugh as well and soon everyone in the room was laughing.

In the end I did not lack for food at all; on the contrary they were over-generous and gave me much more than I asked for. Another one of the funny things I noticed as the week progressed was just how the meals the family that was feeding me grew in complexity. Tuesday, the first day of the topo study, a group of ten or so men from the village and I make our way deep into the forest to find the water source and get things going. We are working for several hours, one group just hacking away at the vegetation with their machetes, making a path so the other group of us could slowly mark our way and plot the changes in elevation. One can imagine this being a very masculine, even savage type of work—we’re in the middle of the wilderness, after all, blazing our own trail, making the forest bend to our demands at the end of a machete. And then around noon who appears almost out of nowhere but the wife of one of the men helping me, with her two little girls, holding lunch for me and her husband. How long they had been there before I noticed them or exactly how they made it out to where we were I have no idea. All I know is that my illusions of us being Lewis and Clark type adventurers was dashed as I watched the little girls with pig-tails walking hand in hand with mom, calmly making their way back to the community after leaving us our lunch.

Ok, so lunch on that particular day was in a tupperware type deal with beans, rice, and corn tortillas—a good, solid meal and pretty standard fare, you just use the tortillas to scoop up the beans and rice. The second day for lunch the mother did the same, made her way out to our location around noon with her girls to bring lunch, emasculating us all. My meal was similar to the first day only this time it came on a dinner plate with silverware, all wrapped tightly in one bag and in another a plastic bottle of a kool-aid type drink with a glass cup to drink it with! Meanwhile her husband is eating his lunch out of a plastic bag, no plates or silverware or anything. By day three we were doing our work in the community itself, so there was no hike involved in bringing us our meals. But on this day when the mother arrived at where we were working, she asked if I was ready to eat, I responded that I was, and she proceeded to withdraw a dinner plate with rice, beans, cheese, and flour tortillas. Then she whipped out a tupperware dish, pulled two drumsticks out and placed them on the rice, and then poured some of the marinating juices onto the rice…and only then was my lunch ready for me to eat. What is that banana dessert dish where the waiter lights it on fire just before serving it? It was like that. I was impressed by what she was doing and a little embarrassed she had gone to so much trouble for me. Yes, all of the meals were excellent and if anything, despite all the hiking that I was doing, I think I left that village a bit heavier than when I arrived.

The work of the study itself was good, nothing exceptional about it. This village was much smaller than the first one I did, only twenty five houses as opposed to over a hundred, so it was nice to be able to complete everything in less than a full week. I was put up in their church, which amounts to little more than a barn-looking structure with a dirt floor and a few benches inside. The family taking care of me was extremely kind and generous with everything and hung a hammock up in there so I could sleep and gave me a fantastic thick blanket to use at night so I wouldn’t freeze. Overall the conditions in this village were more spartan than the in the first village. There is absolutely no electricity in this one whereas in the first there were a series of houses linked to some sort of solar battery which provided light until about 8pm or so. This village has no roads that cars or buses can travel over to get to it while the first has a bus that comes through twice a day. Really and truly, the only way the people in this village interact with the mayors office or sell the crops they grow to the city stores is to make the three hour hike into town. They do it often and within an hour or two they turn around and head back home.

One of the best parts of the entire week was every night at around 7 or 8 when I would prop a little chair outside the church where I was sleeping and just sit. The only lights outside of the stars, which absolutely cover the entire sky, are those of a small town across the valley and at the top of a nearby mountain. It is probably a good couple dozen kilometers to the town but it looks so close because of the lights. The church sits on a hillside overlooking the little soccer field they have 30 meters below and the field itself overlooks the valley some 500 meters below that. The nights were cloudless when I was there and with all the stars and moon it was easy to make out the shadows of the outlying mountains and descent to the valley. It was so incredibly peaceful to just sit there, staring out at the landscape, taking in the stars and the lights of that town across another mountaintop. It is not altogether different from the peace one might get by looking into a burning candle in the middle of a darkened room, for example, but even in the town I live in I can not find a view—nothing close to it—like the one in this tiny village of 25 houses. Extremely peaceful.

We finished up on Thursday afternoon and then on Friday morning I headed back home. There was a family headed back to my town intent on selling several large bags of frijoles they had grown in the village, so they loaded up two horses, the owner was on a third horse and his wife and her sister and I followed on foot. I was aprehensive about being on foot because of the condition of the path, but I actually did not want to be on a horse because I had a vision of a nasty fall over the tricky mud part. I figured I could go as slowly as I needed to on foot and, after all, I was walking in boots I bought here that handle mud better than anything one can find at REI or any sporting good store Stateside. On top of all that I was only carrying my own weight because the man on horseback offered to wear my backpack, while the women were switching off carrying an infant and their purses and were only wearing flimsy shower sandals. How in the hell can they make this journey in those things? I thought to myself as we started out. I would soon discover that they barely walked at all—over the treacherous mudslide section they seemed to float effortlessly from tiny exposed rocks or roots. I looked at nothing else for entire sections besides the back of their sandal-clad feet and tried to mimick their foot placement as they danced over any and every nasty surface the path offered. It did not matter if they had a child in hand or not—as I struggled to steady myself by grabbing at everything I could, they would just nimbly hop from point to point. The women’s ability to navigate the terrain was dumbfounding and truly humbling and made me think maybe I did belong on horseback after all, with a placard hanging around my neck proclaiming, “Princess.”

The seal is for marksmanship and the gorilla is for sand racing…

2007-09-27T08:06:00.000-07:00

September 16
OK so now it is Sunday and I am back home in Victoria. Yesterday was Honduras’ Independence Day—several Central American countries mark the same day as their liberation from Spanish rule—so there were parades all over the country. Unfortunately I was not back in my town as the day began but in the capital, Tegucigalpa, returning from the tail end of the “re-connect” water volunteers had had during the week. Apparently my town was all partied out from their celebration two weeks ago—it was the anniversary of the foundation of Victoria—and so by the time our bus rolled in around noon there was nothing left of the parade and whatever festivities had happened during the morning. Apparently it was one heck of a parade but I missed out. At night there was a “fiesta” which amounts to basically a town dance. And since only young people generally go and everyone who graduates from high school here leaves to go to college in the bigger cities, it was like a high school dance. Rock the house.

September 20
This is the first week I have been in Victoria in September and it is nice to be back. I had a meeting with someone from the Spanish NGO set up for earlier in the week, suddenly re-scheduled for today and then abruptly canceled. Such is the work here so far. This week the weather has been Pacific Northwest-esque, very unusual for the normally Arizona-like Victoria. There have been clouds at nearly all times of the day and the rains have begun earlier in the afternoon than normal and at night they have been intense. The first two days of the week it rained very hard and my newly patched roof did not stand up so well, which was a disappointment. Actually, when the guys had finished at the end of the first week of September they told me they needed to come back to put a final layer of cement mix along the corners but that was delayed because I had to leave the following week for my meeting with the other water volunteers. So in their defense they acknowledged the work was not entirely complete and the rains this week have been the hardest and most prolonged in a long time. I guess the silver lining to the leaks is that now the water is trickling down the walls of multiple rooms instead of falling in drops in the middle of the rooms. Nevertheless I spent several hours over the course of Monday and Tuesday nights running back and forth between the bathroom and main rooms to mop up the rapidly forming puddles and then wring out the mop in the shower and then do it all over again. And the cool thing that generally comes along with heavy rains is power outages, so we had a few of those going on, too. Actually those were intermittent, power leaving and coming back four or five different times over a two hour period at night, but then it would come back for good so nothing to cry about. So yesterday (Wednesday) afternoon I went to see the boss-man of the roof fixing crew, told him I was back in town and was there any way he could come by this week and finish the roof? He said he would come the next day and God bless him he came today and finished everything by himself. I can see where he put the final mix over the edges and he seems pretty confident it will do the job. Given the rains that have come so far this week I wont have to wait long to find out if he’s right.

In work news yesterday I walked with a gentlemen from a nearby town to see problems in the water system his town has. The town had a system built six years or so ago, tubes put into the ground, water flowing through them, tank built, etc., but the water never made it all the way to the tank. So the tank has been sitting empty for six years and the water that arrives in the tubes is some sixty meters below the tank. The town would like to build a new tank where the water arrives to now, but first I wanted to walk the conduction line and see where there were problems in the tubes. The gentleman who accompanied me walked the six kilometers from his house to mine, then we hiked into the hills of my town to see where the tubes to his system begin, and then we followed the tubes all the way back to his town. The general route was familiar to me because I had seen the area in the hills near my house where the tubes to his system begin and I run along the road that leads to his town generally a couple times a week. But since we were following the tubes to find leaks and cracks we were cutting through peoples cornfields and backyards so I got to see the route from a new perspective; it was pretty cool. In the afternoon after we had finished everything he lent me one of his horses and we rode back to my town—good stuff.

Oh, before I forget, Happy birthday to mr. Bacon from a couple of days ago and a huge congrats on the news, dude! You’ve got new email in your inbox…

September 22
Saturday today and while I had hoped the sun would finally come out and dry things out it’s been more overcast than even earlier in the week. The rains that have come since my roof was fixed have not, gracias a Dios, found their way into my humble home. It appears the boss-man who fixed things on Thursday was right to be confident. No more moving the fridge or laptop from room to room, no more running around mopping furiously to try and stay ahead of the puddles along the walls. Yes! I have started a little compost heap in my backyard, though, and I am worried that the recent rains are ruining it. Should a compost be covered? Normally it’s so hot during the day it bakes away any residual moisture from the night rains, but not this week. The ironic thing is I normally love this overcast, cool and slightly wet weather when I’m back in the States. But here it means clothes can’t dry on the line and my compost turns to mud.

Nothing exceptional has happened as the week has wound down. I just recently started reading “The Kite Runner” and so far I dig it bigtime.

Happy birthday, Hoonan!

September 24
Today I was supposed to leave for another village about a three hour hike from my town to begin another topo study. It didn’t happen. The intense wet weather we received in the region last week (today it was scorching hot again, not a cloud in the sky) apparently ruined what passes as a road that leads into that village. I was all packed up and ready to go and had three gentlemen tell me that it was not going to happen, probably not for months (when the rainy season ends), because the road is so bad, and that if I tried to make it solo I would surely die along the way. The road to this village is pretty rough in the best of times and is not navigable by car or bike but only on foot or horse. But the men giving me advice this morning described how I would lose the path in a sea of mud and slop along the way and find no one to help me and how even horses fall over trying to negotiate the path when it is this bad. Wow, I thought, and pictured the Dead Marshes that Frodo had Gollum lead him and Sam through on their way to Mordor! Was it the Dead Marshes? Cant remember for sure and I apologize to all the Tolkein fans but I don’t have any of those books out here.

So my plans for the week were scrapped entirely. But no worries, there is plenty of work to be done right here in my own town. It seems another companion of ridiculously heavy rains, the kind we received much of last week, is that the water system goes down here in Victoria. Yes, at the moment (Monday evening) we are approaching hour seventy two with no water coming to people’s homes. After my travel plans fell through I decided that the smart thing to do since I am a water volunteer would be to hike up to where the problems were and see if I couldn’t help out. At the very least I would learn something about Victoria’s water system. I hiked in the general direction of things, wasted about an hour not having any clue where I was going, at some point found myself on a hillside with a nearly 80 degree elevation angle to it (and there was corn everywhere—how’d they do that?!), and then fortunately stumbled across two gentlemen on their way to do the same thing I was going to do. They showed me the way and before long I saw three men repairing the tubes to Victoria’s water system. The problem, it seems, is that there are sections of tubes that run alongside, and even at points in the middle of, a not-so-small river that rushes toward the town. When heavy rains hit whole sections of tubes are washed away and the “capture box” where the system begins is filled completely with sand and rocks. Today, then, was spent watching how these guys added tubes to the missing sections and cut and sized them according to the system’s needs and then cleaning out the rocks and sand that had filled the capture box. I did very little personally aside from jumping in to help shovel out loads of sand but I did talk a little with the guy in charge of making the repairs and that was good. I was up there with the guys most of the day and when some of us came back repairs had been completed to one of the two sets of tubes running to the tank. But, unfortunately, it was not enough to help bring water to everyone’s homes because there is still nothing coming from my tap.

September 26
Whew! Water came back last night! Hallelujah! Every once in a long while there had been a very murky trickle dropping hesitantly from the outdoor tap I have and I collected and saved that like it was liquid gold. I was starting to get very non-picky about the color or content of what the tap sparingly released and what I used it for. But no more—now we can cook and wash and flush to our hearts content! Showers for all! Clearly this had a bigger impact on the gringo—the rest of the town was doing fine, I am sure—but I’ll be damned if this wasn’t my first briefly extended period sans agua. Perspective is needed, of course, because the communities I am visiting and attempting to help have no water system at all and often go to a nearby (or not so nearby) stream or well than can dry up considerably when the rainy season ends. Yes, I’ll take my perspective…just give me some water, too.

Reif, you have an email to read…oh, and happy birthday buddy!

She’s not that Mexican, mom, she’s my Mexican…and she’s Columbian or something.

2007-09-14T10:36:00.000-07:00

Ok, a tip of the hat to my sister as I begin a new feature to El Amor Prohibido…the rolling update!

August 31
Just got back from the village I visited earlier in the month, this time to finish the topo study. Another excellent visit, this time spent going from the tank to every house. Overall it took four days to complete, even longer than the conduction line. I really should write some more about it because I loved being up there and doing it but it was the same thing as the last time, just alongside the roads of the town. I stayed with the same family and they were great and I love doing the work and left on Thursday afternoon feeling like I had been very productive. I haven’t done anything yet, just to be clear, but the grunt work portion of the system design is now complete.

September 2
First off, I really can not believe it is already September. That happens to me when I am back in the States as well, so really having nothing to do with being in Honduras for the first summer of my life. But seriously, where have the last few months gone? College football has already begun (and with an opening weekend win for BC and major loss at home for Notre Dame, can it get any better?), pro football is not far behind, baseball is entering crunch time, tennis is in the year’s final grand slam…it’s a good time to be a sports fan. The truth is that at the moment I am enthralled with soccer and I take it in any shape or color I can get it (including the MLS!), but no matter where I am there is always the nostalgic tug of the sports I grew up watching and will always love. But I digress…

Yesterday, the first day of September, was the anniversary of the founding of Victoria, Yoro as a town 105 years earlier. As such there was a little festival throughout the day which began with fireworks at 4am (I was still asleep, have no doubt) and then a parade several hours later that included all the municipal workers and schoolchildren and teachers. My sitemate and I were out with cameras in tow, documenting the action, and it really was a festive atmosphere. After the parade several tents appeared in the main square area and people were selling all sorts of local dishes for several hours as a band from a neighboring town played. By about 1pm or so the excitement was fading and the sun had sapped what was left of everyone’s energy, but overall a good day and unique experience.

September 6
Today is Thursday and I just returned from several days of “seclusion” spent near the center of Honduras with about a dozen other volunteers that had been plucked from the north to wait out Hurricane Felix. We stayed in a modest hostel type compound and though there was very little to do for the three days we were there they did feed us three meals a day, so we had that going for us. As far as I know Felix did not do too much damage to Honduras—areas of the north and west had flooding but overall the country was fortunate not to have the casualties that Nicaragua sustained. In our little campsite area there was some rain but nothing unusual and very little wind at all. Overall the reunion with fellow volunteers was good for meeting new people, getting to read (a lot), and playing some Beirut (just a little). There really is not much to do here and unfortunately I have to come back to this exact spot next week for a “re-connect” meeting with all the wat/san volunteers. This week was supposed to be another topo study in a different village but that plan was chucked as soon as I got the call Monday morning to meet in a new city by the end of the day.

When I arrived back to my town I found three guys repairing the roof of my house. Good to have the work begin, absolutely, but it does mean the house is now full of broken tiles and other debris and mountains of dust. Once this is done it will be so nice to not have the fridge in the living room and not have to move my laptop from spot to spot when it starts raining. As soon as the guys left for the day I swept and cleaned just as much as necessary to do a little cooking and not breath in dust all night, and took out mr. laptop and sat down to a few choice episodes of arrested development. Aaahhhhh, it’s good to be home!

September 10
Monday morning now as I write and just found out last night by talking with another volunteer that I don’t need to leave today for the reunion with team water/sanitation. That deal starts tomorrow but not first thing in the morning so there’s no need for me to jump on a bus today—I’m hoping I can make it there by noon mañana. Great weekend just completed out here. First off, the roof is done and looks solid. Surprisingly there has not been an extended rain to test things yet but I am very hopeful. So in fact most of the weekend was spent cleaning things up after the roof guys left and re-organizing yada yada yada but now its all done and the casa looks good. Saturday night I was cooking myself some dinner when in stopped a couple of friends of mine from town to say hi and we all ended up eating what I had cooked together. This type of thing happens all the time to my sitemate, but since I had moved into the house this was the first time for me. Excellent stuff…can you say “town integration”? Then on Sunday night a friend of Gen’s who is a volunteer from a nearby town came by and we all piled into her kitchen to help her cook an amazing dinner. By help I mean we watched her kind of closely and occasionally got in her way, of course. Anyway, here was the meal: breaded chicken fried in sesame seeds, covered in a mandarin chile sauce with wild rice and steamed broccoli on the side. Really? Let’s be clear: this is on another level of meals from what I was cooking for myself in San Diego, so you can imagine what I’m whipping up in Honduras. Needless to say it tasted even better than it looked and it looked damn good. Then we all sat down to a special viewing of the original “Nightmare on Elm Street”. It is creepy, in case any of you had forgotten, and despite some bits of horrendous acting it holds up pretty well.

September 14
Just finished the four day reunion with water/sanitation kids. It was a good time but I am eager to get back to my site because tomorrow is the day Honduras celebrates its independence. Also, I haven't checked internet yet so I have no idea how things are going in the world of sports--ie, don't mock me for a Redskins score I dont know yet!

Talk to everyone soon. Much love, Joe

What’s Spanish for “I know you speak English...”

2007-08-20T13:16:00.000-07:00

Things are moving along nicely here in Honduras. Last week I did my first ever topographical study of a village and it was fantastic. Actually I only did from the water source in the bosque to the site where the town wants to have the tank built, so I have to return next week to finish the distribution network (going house to house). I went up on a Monday and went with a different group of men from the town every day to do the survey until we finished Thursday afternoon. The town does not have electricity (or running water, obviously) and there is only one bus that comes through twice a day taking people to the town where I live. What a great experience, though—I stayed with a host family that was very generous and kind and during the day I was out all day hiking into the forest and crossing little rivers. The actual work of the survey is extremely boring and repetitive but I love that it is outdoors and that we’re making up our own path as we go. Then when we finished in the afternoon we would walk back and just relax and soak up the cool air and beautiful scenery—this town is 1000 meters higher in elevation than where I live so there is almost a constant, refreshingly cool breeze blowing through. Add to it that the town is in the middle of the mountains and the clouds are so close and active and it makes for a very peaceful experience.

The living there was great too, particularly because the family that hosted me was excellent. The water they use comes from big drums they have positioned outside to catch the rain as it comes off the roof—a great idea because it rains there so consistently during these months. They boil the water to drink and use in the kitchen on their wood burning stove deal and it all kind of works from there. They fed me more than they ate, I think, and I felt bad about that. But after being in the sun and hiking and taking measurements all day I was grateful. And no electricity is not a big deal when you’re so exhausted you end up going to bed by around 8pm or so anyway. The brief taste of life in that town, as in most towns in the municipality (only 5 out of 178 have electricity), that I got was extremely peaceful and relaxing and invigorating. I had a little fight with the family’s pig one morning when I was out on the front porch area washing my face with the rainwater and the pig picked up my soap dish quickly and scurried off. The mother saw it all from the kitchen window and was laughing hysterically and screaming to her six yr old to chase down the pig and get my soap back. I know this idealized picture of life there is only in my head—as much as I enjoyed it I would not choose to live without electricity for the rest of my life. And when I asked the family they said of course they want it as well and are going to ask the mayor to start a project in their town (but water first!). But there is something appealing and refreshing about seeing life stripped away of excess, in all its forms.

As I ran out the door of the family’s house to catch the last bus leaving on Thursday afternoon, the mother thrust a bag full of bananas into my hands. By the time I got home to check them out, it appeared as though they were all heading south quickly. But it gave me a chance to put my kitchen skills to work, as well as the microwave-sized toaster oven I had purchased the weekend before. Yes, I was fully into my own house—had gone to the big city to get groceries and all—only a few days before I left to do the topo study. So once I returned life on my own began in earnest and I decided to make task number one the baking of as many banana breads as my recently-gifted (and quickly blackening) bananas could support. I got the recipe from my sitemate, Gen, and rounded up all the ingredients at a nearby pulpería (corner shop type store, usually run out of a person’s home). The entire process was not the smoothest run operation, but it worked and I was able to make three deals of banana bread, after all was said and done. What a payoff! I ran with my first one straight out of the oven to my host family’s house. They were shocked and laughing and kept saying, “You cook?” over and over. But they ate it up quickly and told me it was excellent. It actually was not too bad and since I did not have anyone else I thought it was appropriate to give the other loafs to, I kept them for myself (still working on loaf three).

Yes, life in my own casa is going well. Slowly I am getting back into the groove of cooking for myself and it is nice. I have eaten more vegetables in the past week than in the previous four months combined. That’s a bit of an exaggeration but really not much. The house is pretty smooth as well, significantly bigger than my apartment in San Diego, and it has running water and a huge, enclosed back yard. There are a couple hiccups, of course, and one of them is that the roof is not exactly rain-proof. During rain of any kind I have water streaking down a main room wall and when it pours there are a couple of spots where there is heavy dripping action. These spots are directly over locations on the wall where there are electrical outlets, which is cool, since of the entire three locations in the house where I occasionally plug something in, two now have rainwater falling on them during storms. As a result mr. mini-refrigerator is now in the living room.

A fridge in the living room is not the worst thing, either, when a house is as bare mine is now. There was absolutely nothing in it when I moved in (some volunteers move into fully furnished places) and since I spent all of the no money PC gives us on a bed and a mini fridge, well there really isn’t anything else in any of the rooms. In the backyard there was a whole stack of wood and a couple of benches, so I cleaned the benches off and brought them in and with the wood got set to making something reminiscent of furniture. But as you might imagine that has not been a success, in the traditional sense of the word. I made a table which works decently, actually, but it is a lot higher than a table that one normally sits at to eat (don’t ask how I did that), so I use it to stand and type on my laptop. It is not super-stable, either, so I doubt it would have tolerated the little shaking that might result from cutting things with a knife and fork. And speaking of stability, you all should witness the marvel that is a bench/chair that I put together. I say bench/chair because the seat is the size of a chair but without any back support, so also bench-like. Anyway, I found a piece of wood that has a cool shape to it; curved and coming to a point at one side and the opposite end has a broad, flat side—almost like the back end of a Nike swoosh. Good seat for a chair, I thought, and so I measured out some legs and put my wonderful creation together. I wanted to maintain the cool, modern (?) look it had going for it so I only used three legs, strategically placed, so as to suggest that this chair could just as easily be in a hip club somewhere as in my house. I thought the legs were strategically placed. This chair subsequently became known as the “most unstable piece of furniture…ever” for a period of time before I tacked on a fourth leg. It was amazing how truly unstable, unpredictable one might say as well, this thing was. Almost like a horse that is refusing it’s rider-to-be, this chair would buck up on one side nearly as soon as it was touched. Sitting on it took careful consideration and planning. Even using it as a footrest was something not easily accomplished and ultimately bound for failure. I swear this to you: a master craftsman could not intentionally design a piece of furniture this unstable if he tried.

And that’s kind of it in the way of updates. I did manage to find a cheese here that does not melt at all but I’m not sure I want the blog to descend to those levels of storytelling just yet—we have a higher standard here on El Amor Prohibido, don’t we? Is that a common thing, by the way? I’m asking because I don’t know—cheese that does not melt for anything seems a bit odd. I guess its time I learned about stuff like that. Ahem, in the time since I last wrote an update my mom had a birthday (happy belated, mom!) and just recently was the bday of one Janelle Naños—feliz cumpleaños a usted, también. And if I don’t get to update within the next ten days or so, there is going to be a major event in the vicinity of Syracuse, New York on or about the first of September. If you don’t already know, well, you better aks somebody. Josh, Kate—a big congrats to the both of you!! You each get a kiss from me when we meet next.
Much love from Honduras,
Joe

Alias is a show about a spy…

2007-07-31T09:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, last time I talked about taking a trip down to Tegucigalpa to visit the head of my project and one of my buddies. Also there was a bit about lots of my host family’s extended family staying at the house, and of course the ever present subject of my future housing. So where to begin? I will begin by apologizing for the long time between updates, especially since I have nothing in the way of cool stories to account for the delay. No one’s ankle was carved up, no more visits from the president, no high school beauty contests…not even a soccer tournament to discuss the ins and outs of Team USA and its plethora of young talent. Sorry, none of that.

As I write this I am nearly 100% in to my own casa. In fact, over the past couple of weeks I have been getting it ready—bought a bed and sheets, built (that’s right) a table—in anticipation of, you know, living there. Here’s the deal (long and uninteresting story made short and uninteresting): I don’t want to live in my own place until I can cook for myself as well…and I can not cook for myself until I get a ride to a bigger city, something that has eluded me thus far…so I am still in my host family’s house. What are you going to do? Yes, I said I would not still be there once I updated the blog. But also, yes, I will wrap up this ordeal by the end of the week, so have no worries—as far as you’re concerned, I am in my own place and it’s great!!

The trip to Teguc was fantastic. It was great to be in a big city again, great to see one of my buddies from training and how he is living and working in his site. My program manager was extremely helpful with all of the questions I had and gave me a ton of useful information. And it was kind of cool to visit PC headquarters as a volunteer, and not as a fledgling volunteer-to-be knockoff. My host parent’s eldest daughter (my host sister?), the one who lives in Teguc but is staying up in Victoria with her three children for the summer, was actually in Teguc at the same time, so she gave me a ride back to the northern town I call home. How great was it to go from sweating getting to the bus station on time, that I would have enough money, and that I could actually carry everything I had with me (not to mention the 5 ½ hour ride) to jumping into a climate-controlled SUV and sitting shotgun for free (for a 3 hour drive)? Extremely great. But I have to confess it was a tad surreal going from penny-pinching and public transportation to an SUV with a backseat full of children and Burger King drive-thru bags. Which one of us is supposed to be doing the helping here?

Work is going well and because I have been so busy getting my house stuff together my non-village visiting days have been packed and very not boring. But there have been a couple noteworthy visits. The first was a couple of weeks ago and my counterpart and I went with the mayor to one village with three other villages within reasonable walking distance. It just so happens that those three do not have potable water systems, so I went to all three that day, checking their sources and looking at the layout of their towns, etc. What was exceptional about this day was that I rode on not one, but two horses amongst the different villages. It was sweet, we were river crossing, mountain climbing horseback fools! Another day I wish I had had a horse because my counterpart at the mayor’s office, a very nice guy, is so laid back and calm about details and appointments and just about everything, that he failed to mention that there was a two hour uphill hike involved. Now I am a young guy and generally try not to shy from a physical challenge, especially when the challenger is significantly older and in no kind of shape at all. But “C’mon!”, as Gob would say, if the day involves four hours of hiking to get to and from a particular village, you’re going to want some sort of advance warning, right? So maybe you can bring a bit more than just a nalgene of water? I got no warning and I was toast. My counterpart brought an empty water bottle because he can just fill it up at anyone’s little well or spring because his stomach is used to everything here. By the time we got to the village I was 90% through my water and had no conceivable way of getting any more for the return—I was anticipating the worst. Luckily the water source this town plans to use for their water system was glorious…glorious! We’re 1100 meters above sea level, there is virtually no higher ground anywhere within miles and miles, and out of the side of this mountain water is GUSHING out with enough pressure to wash an elephant. It was cold and clear and I was dying so I filled up mr. nalgene and had zero problems on the return journey. I don’t know what you call that besides fantastic water and a lucky break for me.

And that is about all she wrote for me—working on the house and visiting villages now and then. I understand the summer of movie sequels is well on its way back in the States. Has anyone seen any or all of them? Who knew there would be another Die Hard and Bourne Identity movies? I would see it all if I were with you guys—tell me how they are! Aside from summer entertainment, I hope everyone is doing well. Much love from Victoria.
Joe

Operation Hot Brother...

2007-07-10T09:06:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone, this week I am sending the update from Sabanagrande, site of our field based training about two months ago. The first part of this week I am spending in the capital, Tegucigalpa, to check in with the powers that be in the PC office and then to hang with a buddy of mine who lives and works in the previously mentioned small town not far away. Another thing on my to-do list is get some items in the big city in preparation for the upcoming move into my very own house. The housing update has its sour and its sweet: no, the house is not ready yet (sour) but there has been significant work done on it since I last updated you all (sweet). It’s true—one day I was actually walking by and saw the owner’s mother inside directing some guys who were painting and putting screens on the windows and everything! As for the local drunks and bums passing out in front of my gate, yea that still happens but a local judge (that’s right—no courtroom here but we have a judge working in the mayor’s office) said I could just give him a call to have the police come and shoo them away (sweet). By the time I update this blog next, I will have slept in my own casa here in Victoria, I promise you that.

The work of the past week or so was fairly uneventful. A lot of waiting around and stalling and more waiting all in the hopes of using Salud’s truck and not much to show for it. Late in the week I said screw it and took a bus up to one of the sites I will be working on and met a guy who is with the Spanish NGO in town to take some altitude measurements and walk around discussing their deal. That was good, a very productive day and I was happy to have ditched the mayor’s office and be working with the NGO guys. But that covers one day and while there was the occasional meeting, maybe, it does leave something to be desired in the way of consistent work. Two weeks ago I barely had time to breathe we were going this way and that, visiting villages and doing town meetings like it was our, ahem, job. And that’s followed by a week where everyday its mañana that we’ll go, mañana that we get to business. Argh.

The free time this week did allow me to do some much needed fútbol research for you guys. As a result, here is a Team USA update: the Copa America did not go as well for our boys as the Copa de Oro did. Devotees will remember that the US won the latter tournament, winning every game it played. Well, if you’re going to be technical about it, the US finished in last place of all the teams in the Copa America. The technical argument would mention that the US was the only team to not get a single point for any of its games and that they had the worst goal differential in the tournament. A more nuanced view of the tournament (and that’s what I give you) will reveal that the US brought almost none of its well known players—no Donovan, no Ching, no Beasley, no Dempsey to name a few—and was using this tournament as a way of getting the younger players some much needed international experience. Given that fact, I think it’s hard to argue that the US’ effort in this Copa was anything but impressive. They played with an Argentina team full of its stars for a good hour before things came apart and they full on dominated a Paraguay team that is generally considered to be one of the best South American squads behind Brasil and Argentina. That domination of Paraguay did not produce much in the way of goals, of course, which is why they lost, but they outshot their opponent something on the order of 19 to 8. Overall I think things went well. I do not know what comes next but when I know, you’ll know. After all, if the so-called “Sportscenter” won’t update you on the world’s most popular sport, where else can you turn?

But the out of the ordinary news this week was the arrival to my host family’s house of many, many family members. My host parents have 8 children and all but the youngest are married and have children of their own. Two live here in Victoria, two others in different parts of Honduras, and four live in the States. This week the eldest who lives in Tegucigalpa brought her three children here to chill for the summer. Later on the son who lives in another part of Honduras came to town with his wife and two kids. That same day one of the sons who lives in New York came as well, complete with his two sons. To add to the chaos, the first night that everyone was here together the power went and the next morning we discovered there was no water either…aaahhh Honduras. It has been a good time and although the one family who lives in a different part of Honduras just left, at one point during the weekend there was something on the order of ten kids between the ages of 15 months and 16 years, all under one roof. Good times. No, actually it was kind of fun and my host parents are saints for letting me stay a week + past my expected departure time, taking up a room and a bed to myself when everyone else is practically sleeping on top of each other. I told them what I am telling you: this time next week I will be in my own place. Period. Si Dios quiere.

Don’t ask, “Can I?” ask, “I can!”

2007-06-28T07:38:00.001-07:00

Dog update: you think these updates are going away and that maybe I’m paranoid and overselling the dangers of man’s best friend down here in Honduras. You are mistaken. My sitemate, Gen, took a trip last week to other parts of the country to attend some classes and get some training, etc. She was supposed to come back Sunday, mid-day, but I did not hear from her and as I walked by the house she’s renting on Monday morning I noticed that she had not yet returned. Skip ahead to Monday afternoon and a text message I received from Gen: “I am coming home today, got bit by a dog in La Esperanza and had to stay a little longer to get rabies shots—argh”. You see? Don’t ever doubt the validity of my warnings…they are dire and they are real.

But returning to Gen’s trip as a segue to a completely different subject, along the way she made a stop in the capital. While in the capital she visited the main PC Office and, as any true-of-heart Peace Corps type would, decided to pick up my mail for me. I won’t disclose here just how much mail I received, nor who it came from—if you, yes, you reading this blog right now, have not sent me mail, well then…you know. No, the important part of this story is that my folks came through like the superstars they are and sent me another care package the contents of which included the third season of Arrested Development. Yes, after several months and far too many blog entries to recall without a reference to one of the funniest shows ever made, I am now able to return to the humble origins of this blog. Thank you, mom and dad, you have done me and all the many, many readers of this blog a great service. What would an online journal entitled “Amor Prohibido” be, after all, without Arrested Development?

Ok, so in the event that I spoiled you last week (two weeks ago?) with stories of Presidential helicopters in corn fields and high school girls parading on stage to the hoots and hollers of an entire town, there will be nothing of the sort in this entry. I will tell you instead about some blood spilled—both on a village visit I did last week and in general on the TV news here. First, the village visit: I was in a truck driven by a gentleman working for the Centro de Salud of the municipality and riding with us was my counterpart at the mayor’s office. We were going to visit a tiny community of about 150 people at the absolute top of a massive hill to talk to them about instituting a rainwater collection system in their town. At the moment they have no water system of any kind and the relative elevation of their village means that their options are limited. The roads getting to this town are brutal and, truly, do not see cars pass over them much at all. (Seriously, I talk about how my town has nothing but dirt roads in all directions for hours but I live in the center of a booming metropolis compared to some of the sites I am visiting, this being one of them.) It was not a surprise, then, at a fork in the road nearly half way up the mountain to see a massive tree blocking further passage. This was no doubt due to any of the many storms that have come through recently and who knows how long ago the tree had fallen because the only thing on the other side of it was the village we were going to visit and I doubt they leave their perch very often.

We had in the back of the truck a moto because the mayor’s office guy had to run an errand even further out later on that day and the roads in that direction are not wide enough for a truck. There was no way to cut the tree and move it aside because we didn’t have a machete or ax so we decided the moto was our only option. Now during the discussion of what to do not once did walking the rest of the way even come into consideration for the gentlemen I was with, despite that we had clearly gone the majority of the way. Well I decided to show them who was the man and announced that I would hike to the town while the gentleman from the Centro de Salud rode the moto. Obviously, stupid on my part—but that’s not the point of this story. Three hundred meters in elevation and forty minutes after I began my trek (covered in sweat and still not having arrived at the village), I come across a man coming down the mountain on horseback. We exchange greetings and I ask him how much further to the town. He says another twenty minutes or so on foot, and I understand this part clearly, but then he goes into something about how “the man with the moto is coming back down right now behind me because there was an accident and I’m bleeding”. I was confused but understood that he was injured and I asked where and he directed me to the other side of his horse and pointed at his foot—there was a white rag tied around his foot covered in blood.

The man continued on down the road and I continued up, expecting to see my moto guy and get some better idea of what happened. Sure enough within two minutes the moto comes tearing around a corner and I flag him down and ask “How’d it go”, not really sure where the bloody foot guy fit into things and mostly asking about the rainwater presentation to the town. He answered very bluntly: “Not well. There weren’t many people available for the talk and then a man asked for a ride on the moto and we started to go and his shoelace got caught in the wheel and cut his foot up.” And that was pretty much that. We all went back down the mountain, got the man into the truck, strapped the moto down and went into the centro de salud in the nearest town. Once we were there and the injured man was receiving care from the medics, I took a look at the wound. From one side of his ankle all the way around the back to the other side was sliced open—his foot didn’t get ground up in the spokes but must have been cut by the disc which the spokes rotate on. Anyway, the cut was deep, deep enough that I worried that his Achilles tendon might have been severed. Apparently not, though, because the docs cleaned the wound and stitched him back up—18 stitches on one ankle! The whole time this man did not so much as grimace despite the fact that it looked like his heel might fall off. Calm and collected under excruciating circumstances. Unreal.

Now let’s move to blood spilled on the TV news. I figure you guys want bits of life down here every once and awhile and not just the exciting stories of romance and world-saving that I involve myself in on a day to day basis. So here it is: in Honduras the television news programs show things that I have not seen in R-rated movies…and they do it all the time. There is no warning either, no “what you are about to see may disturb you…” etc. They’re just talking about the news and then BAM—and you throw up in your mouth!! I’m going to give you just a couple examples, so you get the idea, but rest assured these are not the worst I have seen in my brief time down here. What you are about to read may disturb you, so skip ahead to the next paragraph if you don’t want to picture a couple unsettling images as you sit there in front of the computer. First one comes from a recent flood that hit the capital and while that got most of the footage they did stop to do a side story about how the commotion of the flood gave a new mother the chance to dispose of her unwanted child. Yup, then they cut to a shot of a plastic bag opened with a newborn baby inside, still covered in blood and clearly dead. Second one is a little more intriguing, no less disturbing. A couple of men were picked up on charges of having raped and murdered two five year old boys recently. The other prisoners knew of their alleged crimes as well, because within three hours of first arriving to the prison the men were burned alive. I missed the back story initially and walked into the TV room in my host family’s house and saw what looked to be a burned log in the middle of a concrete patio. And then I saw the kicker: a human arm extending sideways from the “burned log.” Yeah, the arm from the elbow up was completely normal but the body was unrecognizable as human; just a large, coal-black mass covered in flakes occasionally blowing away in the breeze. It can make mealtime an adventure.

On the lighter side of news, I was very pleased to see the US National Team win the Copa de Oro last week. You are all Americans and currently living in the US, so this regional tournament of the world’s most popular sport likely passed undetected on your sports radar (ie Sportscenter)—if I was in the States it would have happened to me, too. Anyway, the national teams from North America, Central America, and the Caribbean were represented—12 teams in all. The entire tournament was played in the States, too, with Mexico and Team USA being the heavy favorites. In fact, in the 8 times that this tournament had happened leading up to this year’s event, the USA and Mexico had won it between them 7 times. The only other team to win the tournament is Canada, so it is not a small thorn in the side of Central America that only teams north of C.A. have won it. This year’s final ended up being between USA and Mexico, of course, and the yanks came from behind to win 2-1. ¡Excelente! Next up for the US is the Copa America, which takes place in Venezuela (it started this week) and features all South American teams and also the US and Mexico. The US has gained significantly in worldwide stature in recent years (despite the ’06 World Cup) and we look good heading into this tournament having just won the Copa de Oro, but with teams like Brasil and Argentina around our boys are definitely not the favorites.

In Peace Corps news there is good and there is bad. The good is that my work has actually picked up a lot in recent weeks and I have barely had time to do leisure reading, let alone multiple viewings of the same movies. There have been many visits to villages to see what kind of water issues they are having and mostly these end without any blood shed on anyone’s part. There is also the occasional town meeting type event, where I basically introduce myself and sit back down and that’s it, but those have been great for meeting community representatives one on one and discussing problems to be fixed. So the work is good and at times has made me feel like I am actually beginning to do something here. The bad news is that recently three people I know pretty well decided to go back home for good. One of these was a close friend who left suddenly and since I haven’t been able to check email in almost two weeks I don’t know the details, just that he’s gone. The other two were people in my wat/san group as well and both were solid. I’m not going to pretend I know how Peace Corps life goes and how this impacts things specifically, but I do know that after a few months in my site I was looking forward to reuniting with people I trained with and know fairly well and that now these people will not be there. But what can you do besides go one day at a time. As the wise people at Sportscenter have said, “So-and-so is listed as day to day…but aren’t we all.”

To conclude this entry I will return to something I began last time, a “housing” update. In the last edition I talked about the imminent joys of living solo and described the place I had found, etc. Well I had made arrangements to rent this particular house and the people left in charge of it (the owner is in the States) assured me they would spend the next couple of weeks “fixing things up”. There has not been so much in the way of “fixing things up,” unfortunately, and the other thing is that while this house is pretty cool its location leaves something to be desired. On one side is the town liquor store and down the other side no more than ten meters is a pool hall, reknowned in Honduras for being filled with the town drunks and bums. Excellent. Now safety is not an issue because there are bars on the windows and the house has a wall and gate around it besides and since Hondurans love to put barbed wire on things, there is barbed wire snaking around the top of the gate and wall. But nearly every time I walk by now to check to see if anything is being “fixed”, I have noticed drunks passed out right in front of my new house-to-be. This is going to be fun. More to come from me, I hope all of you are doing well. Much love, Joe

Wes Anderson, Noam Chomsky, and high school girls…

2007-06-16T09:53:00.001-07:00

Dog update: I have a new running route, this one has some serious hills and some seriously awesome views of the country. Really, if not to visit me some of you need to get down here just to see some of these vistas! Anyway, new route means new potential dog dangers, this must always be kept in mind. But to my surprise and delight I have not encountered any dogs interested in my running by enough to chase and/or attack me yet. In fact, to this point my site here in Victoria has become a run-without-a-stone-in-hand type of place…excellent.

Ok, so if week four helped me to see how my service could begin to take shape, then week five helped me to see how enlightened and cool I can become by watching Wes Anderson flicks and reading nonfiction books. Yes, it was a return to the general malaise of the first three weeks wherein there is much to be done but just not…right…now, damnit. The deal is us PCV’s are forbidden from riding motorcycles at all because in years past there were a number of deaths due to moto accidents. Ok, understood. Except that everyone in my neck of Honduras gets around by moto and when I say everyone I mean even the mayor. All of the roads are pretty bad around here, none of them are paved, and some aren’t big enough for cars. The municipality’s only car is in the shop, naturally, and so we have had to wait until the Centro de Salud made up their calendar for the summer of what towns they are going to visit so we can hitch a ride in their truck. Did you want to know all that? It means that next week there are villages to visit and work to begin…but this week, ahem, not.

Back to the issue at hand, Wes Anderson flicks and nonfiction books. If any of you dear friends and family out there have not yet seen either “The Royal Tenebaums” or “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou” then I suggest you do so. Now I don’t plan on making this blog a “wow, this is the coolest movie/book/music group” type blog—no, that doesn’t interest me at all. But speaking purely objectively, if you have not seen these movies then you need to, and fast. They are brilliant and it is a kind of brilliance that transcends taste, I think. You know how seeing a Will Ferrell movie more than once makes it much funnier? Well, seeing a Wes Anderson movie more than once makes it funnier, cooler, and significantly more layered and complex than you initially realized. Seriously, get on it. I have watched each three times in recent weeks, with audio commentary and without, and I might not stop there.

To be completely honest, I should point out that the Wes Anderson flicks in question have been the only movies available for me to watch. Ever since arriving here in Victoria I have been leeching off of my sitemate, Gen, and her collection of books and movies (and Wes Anderson is all she’s got). See I was under the impression that movies and books would be a waste of luggage space and would lie useless on some shelf somewhere as I busily saved the world. But quickly I discovered that when the work comes along as slowly as it does, there are only so many times one can walk around the town waving to people or hours one can sit and read or play “solitaire”or “hearts” on the computer before pulling one’s hair out becomes the next logical step. Hence, other people’s movies. This is not a smooth and subtle request for movies or books, either. Once the work starts up I think it will occupy a lot of my time and if I had an entire library of movies it might definitely cut into my town integration time, which will be important. Also, once I come back to the states I don’t want to lug boxes of the stuff back with me. But you see the situation I was in. Gen and Wes Anderson to the rescue!

Nonfiction books. I finished Tom Friedman’s “The Lexus and the Olive Tree” last week and am now tackling “Understanding Power: The Indispensable Chomsky”. What does all this mean? It means that in the very near future I am going to be much smarter than you. Ok, that’s not what it means at all. But for anyone who’s ever wanted to ditch work and responsibility and just sit in a chair and read, something they’ve always wanted to read but never did, for hours on end and for days in a row—the Peace Corps might just be for you! That is not, as I understand it, the current slogan…but it could be. And just in case the work does actually kick in soon and I do not have the opportunity to enlighten myself with the teachings of the Friedman’s and Chomsky’s of the world nearly as much, then I am making sure to take full advantage right now and really choosing to occupy myself with little else.

A couple of other things have happened since my last entry which were pretty unique. One was the beauty contest in my town and the other was the President of Honduras coming via helicopter (that whole dirt roads for hours in every direction thing, I imagine) to a nearby town. The beauty contest was between about 7 or 8 high school girls and is called “Novia del colegio” or, literally, “Girlfriend of the high school”—basically their version of Homecoming Queen. Except this is not held at a high school dance but rather at the town’s event center and the entire town is in attendance. The girls walk one by one onto the stage and do a prearranged routine for the crowd, some of them looking very comfortable in this kind of environment, others as if they had just put on high heels for the first time. Then they all stand next to one another and a middle aged man with a microphone asks the crowd to scream for each girl and that’s how the “novia” is chosen. Good times. The worst was that there was a dance for the town in the same center but everyone had to leave after the beauty contest so they could set up for the dance, etc., but the microphone dude wasted so much time having the previous year’s winner come and put the crown on Miss Novia del Colegio 2007 that by the time she got the microphone to thank everyone half the people were on their way out the door.

Then in the middle of this past week there was an event put on by the government in a nearby town to promote some corn growing initiative. It was held in the afternoon in the middle of a corn field just to emphasize the point, I guess. The only problem with that is the rainy season began last week and the rains, at least up here in Yoro, are well known for starting in the afternoon. And it’s true; nearly two weeks into the season and every single day the rains have started sometime after 3pm. So there is a pretty big crowd in this corn field listening to people talking about the initiative and how the President is on his way. Then we see a couple of choppers come over some distant hills and the camouflaged, rifle-toting military dudes drop some yellow smoke deals in the field and the choppers land and Mr. President hops out. That was a cool spectacle to witness and I wondered if Marine One has ever landed in some cornfield, perhaps in Iowa. Anyway, there’s a line of handshaking, sign waving, normal presidential fanfare, he gets onstage, makes his speech. The rain starts slowly and sporadically while he is talking, he does a good job incorporating it into what he’s saying, and before I know it he’s done, off the stage, and heading back to the choppers. Well no sooner does he get into the chopper, and this is just before it takes off, than the sky opens up and the rain starts coming down hard. We’re in a cornfield with no trees or buildings or hope for cover, only a handful of people brought umbrellas, and the one road leading to this field is packed with about seventeen yellow school buses, all from different towns, which are now chaotically filling up with people who want to get the hell out of dodge, all at once. It didn’t happen smoothly, as you might imagine. But it was a great event and something like out of a cheap Hollywood script—President comes to rural town to give speech, then leaves without incident, rains come, everyone but President looks like they went swimming with their clothes on.

Lastly, the housing search. Life with my current host family is rapidly nearing an end, and while that means no more meals cooked for me or laundry washed for me, or TV of any kind (not that theres ever any good TV), it also means complete independence and privacy and comfort. I’ll take the good with the bad on this one. There is not much in the way of available housing in Victoria, but after talking with several people I was able to find a little place available to rent. It has a small patio in front and even a back yard, so I’m crossing my fingers that all goes well and I can actually move into this place in a couple of weeks. It may be a bit longer before I have, you know, a bed to sleep on or chairs to sit in, but before you know it I may have my own fully functional place for any and everyone to come and visit. Excellent. OK, that’s it from me. I hope you are all doing well. I love and miss you guys.
Joe

life begins...

2007-06-06T11:06:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I have not done an exceptional job keeping this bad boy updated but this may be the new rule rather than exception since I have to travel to get to internet capable towns. Really, you all don’t want to be reading much more from me than once every ten days to two weeks anyway, do you? Didn’t think so…
So things here in Yoro, that is life as a Peace Corps Volunteer, started out very slowly. They told us in training that the majority of us would go through exactly that, especially at the beginning, but I chose to believe they were talking about other people. Wrong. I will not bore you all with the details of why the work did not begin right off the bat, just be content with the knowledge that it did not. I read two books during the eleven + weeks of training; I read three in the first three weeks here. I walked around the town meeting people and just waving and saying hi so much that I think the allure of a new gringo in town had long since faded and most were just annoyed…“Look, here comes the new gringo. He’s gonna wave and say hi, let’s duck inside real quick as he passes!”

Yea, it was kind of odd, definitely frustrating, and despite the people I had met and the books I had read, there was not much to show for the effort. I thought about all the stories I had heard of some volunteers that just end up reading books for two years. That idea does have some romantic qualities to it but if you were in my shoes you’d be feeling the same thing—WTF, I didn’t come down here to read!! Another thing I did do is settle into a decent running routine, too, which I mention as a way of transitioning to the beautiful views that are all around my town. It’s great pasture land with rolling hills covered in vegetation down one path and down another you’re running alongside a river that cuts between little mountains—just beautiful. So even though there was not much going on, I was occasionally pretty pleased with myself when I would stop and look around and take in the surroundings on one of these runs! Sustainable work? Nope. Any work at all? Haha, no. Beautiful Central American views? ¡Si!

Week four began with a bang, though, and continued on with a very different theme from the previous weeks—things to do, projects to begin. On Monday I went with a guy from the Muni, who is the mayor’s very knowledgeable water guy, and a gentleman that works at the Centro de Salud, or health center (sounds like a gym, think more a village hospital type deal). We went to a village up in the hills that has no water system at all to talk to the local leaders and see for ourselves what the situation was. Long, winding, unpaved, rocky mountain roads for over an hour, 1000 meters higher in elevation and we were there. Man, what a difference in weather a little mountain elevation can give; it was breezy and actually quite comfortable up there as opposed to the stifling heat of my town.
Anyway, we trekked all over town taking elevation points, checking their water source in the forest and where they think a tank would go, seeing how high other important sites in town were, etc all day. One might call it a feasibility study—nothing scientific, just checking to make sure they had what is needed for a basic water system.

Anyway, that took all day and by the time we returned I realized I had just completed a genuine day’s work for the first time here…it was pretty exciting. Later in the week the Spanish NGO in town hosted a seminar for the representatives of about 16 communities in the area about the importance of adding chlorine to their water systems. This was pure gold because I am the new water volunteer in town and instead of meeting all of these guys one at a time by traveling to 16 different villages, they were all in my town for the last two days of the week. It was an excellent seminar because in the area, for those communities that have water systems set up and running, most are not treating the water with anything. So while it is great that they have water there are still problems with illnesses, especially in the children, and they need to know how to manage treating their systems with chlorine.

The opportunity to meet all of these men who are on the water boards in their towns was excellent and what they were learning about was tangible and necessary. At one point during the training it struck me that there is no other place I would rather be than here, doing what I am doing right now. It seems odd, to be writing about grown men, local leaders of their communities no less, learning for the first time about the how and why of adding chlorine to their water systems. But that will have such a significant impact on the health of their towns that it is kind of exciting to witness. The other thing is these particular men are representing towns that are fairly well off in comparison to many others. The two towns I visited prior to this seminar had no water system at all—none at all. Every last drop of water that is used in these towns—for bathing, washing clothes and dishes, cooking, drinking, using the latrine, etc.—is coming from a small river running nearby in one case, and in the other from a small ground water source that runs into a very shallow rock bed. In both cases the water source runs very close to dry during the summer and is never very clean when there is water. The people in these towns often have to choose what tasks they can and can not do on a given day based on how much water is available.

I could go on and on but you get the picture. After last week I am more excited than ever to get to work and make an impact in the lives of the people I am meeting. It was very nearly an accident that I ended up in this program, but I can not think of anything else I would rather be doing. I just read a very funny book, one of the things I was busy with during the first twenty or so days, called “The Sex Lives of Cannibals.” It’s about a guy who goes with his girlfriend to live on a remote island in the South Pacific because he’s not satisfied with how his life is turning out. He relates his adventures and most are laugh out loud funny, but in one case he describes a situation where he had a lack of water available in his house. He is describing how he was frantic at one point and suddenly realizes that when you break life down to its most basic necessities, water tops the list—there is no one thing more important. My folks were kind enough to send me a care package which I received recently and in it was the Green Issue of Vanity Fair. Check this out, it comes from an article in the magazine about “Big Water”:

“According to a report prepared by the International Water Management Institute, a respected international research group, one person out of every three on the planet today lacks reliable access to freshwater, whether because the water is unsafe, unaffordable, or unavailable.”

One in three?! This is followed by a quote from an author and national chairwoman of a citizen’s advocacy group describing how more children die everyday from dirty water than from HIV/AIDS, malaria, war, and accidents combined. I personally had no idea the worldwide water situation was so dire but it seems clear that in the coming years this is an issue that will begin to take hold more and more on the world stage.

Anyway, things in week four helped me to see how my service here could begin to take shape and that was exciting. But to return to “The Sex Lives of Cannibals” if I could (and I can), I would like to close this particular blog chapter by making an observation about animals—dogs, to be more precise. In his remote South Pacific island, Maarten (the author) remarks that he never thought he would be in a place mentally where he would feel ok hurling stones at dogs. As his new life on Kiribati unfolds, of course, he comes to feel very comfortable doing just that. Similarly, dogs here in Honduras seem to share little with their North American brothers and sisters. For one they are never spayed or neutered so at any moment one is liable to witness doggie love in action, which the first couple of times is somewhat amusing but soon becomes depressing. They are truly scavengers here, roaming the streets with chunks of their fur missing if they have any, many with permanent scars carving lines across their snouts or bodies, and feeding themselves off the garbage they can scrounge from the streets.

It goes without saying that, for the most part, they are not welcomed into the homes of Hondurans as they are in the States. Certainly there are many homes and families that have a healthy relationship with their dog and in those instances the extent of our North American love-fest with these animals does seem a tad sickening. But generally speaking Hondurans have no love of man’s best friend and he returns the favor. If I had a nickel for every PCV that came to help us during training with a hole in their jeans who had a story about a run-in with a dog or pack of dogs—well, I would have several nickels. During FBT in Sabanagrande one could not go on a run without a rock in hand and expect to complete the run unmolested. To this point the dogs here in my town are of the lay-around-all-day-regardless-of-how-close-anything-comes-to-their-“territory” type as opposed to the spittle-spewing-psychos-with-a-taste-for-human-blood type. This is a good thing…but I do keep a close eye on how close rocks are at any moment as I walk around town, just to be safe. More to come.
Joe

It begins in earnest now!!

2007-05-16T10:04:00.000-07:00

Ok, so there was a bit of a gap in between the last entry and this one, but what can you do? I have been completely cut off from all news, weather, and other worldly events in the past couple of weeks and am just now getting back into it. So site announcement went well, but like I said, what the heck do I know about what I want? Here’s what I know: I wanted rural, isolated, small town in great need of water help…check, check, check, check! It turns out there is not an internet café in my town and there is also really no easy way to get here…from anywhere. From both Santa Lucia and Sabanagrande there were buses that left every half hour going to Tegucigalpa; in my town there is one bus to the capital that leaves every morning. The ride is about five hours on a typical, yellow school bus (ie no seat belts or room for luggage), and the first three hours are on dirt roads…yes, once we hit pavement it only takes two hours. And that’s the thing, I am kind of centrally located in the country, but as this particular country’s roads go, I’m in the boonies. What does this mean for you? As far as address goes, stick with the original which I will again paste below. If I find a more accurate one that’s going to be dependable I’ll change it up but for now no change. Here is that original address again:

Joe Brandt-Hammar
Cuerpo de Paz
Apartado Postal 3158
Tegucigalpa, Honduras, C.A.

What do you want to know? The last week in Santa Lucia was surreal, back with the entire group of 50, living with our original host families, going to school everyday for the last few days of training. It was great to see everyone, of course, but we all knew it was only so the training staff could dot the i’s and cross the t’s and not for anything truly substantial. A couple of runs up the never-ending hills, a game of soccer against the local guys as the light faded one afternoon, and several lectures on safety, health, and business and we were wrapped. Thursday morning we all went into Tegucigalpa to see the PC headquarters and get an idea of where things were and then to the heavily fortified US Embassy for the swearing in ceremony. Wow, mere feet from the polluted, dangerous Tegucigalpa exterior we were sitting alongside a man-made mini river and spring in the middle of lush grass as our ambassador spoke to us. It was surreal but also very nice and while I got the idea the rest of the embassy employees were annoyed we were taking up their beautiful lawn/patio area, the guys putting on the show did a good job.

After the swearing in we were bussed out to the ambassador’s pad in the hills of Tegucigalpa—basketball and tennis court, big pool, manicured lawns. A pleasant afternoon, to be sure, but I was kind of expecting a tour of the grounds (nope!) and/or an outdoor buffet of some sort (not a chance!). In previous years, and by that I mean nearly every…single…Honduras…group…before…us, the new volunteers were taken to a Tegucigalpa hotel afterward and left to themselves. Not us. We were taken out of harms way and back to our sleepy little town to spend the night with our host families one last time…instead of in various hotel rooms by ourselves in the big city. Geez, I’m glad they made that switch!! Actually, a couple of guys from the class ahead of us were mugged on swearing-in night, which I guess is not the best way to begin life as a volunteer.

So now I am here in the department of Yoro, which is fairly large and directly above Francisco Morazán and Comayagua, the two departments basically dead center in the country. As the crow flies I am not too far from the famed north coast beaches (Tela, La Ceiba, etc.), but once again the roads to get there make it a pain in the ass and far away indeed. My town is nestled in the hills and the outlying areas are kind of picturesque, even if the city itself is mostly just homes and dirt roads (none of this quaint, cobblestone path stuff anymore!). There are 2 or 3,000 where I live and it is one of only 5 towns out of 170+ in the municipality with electricity, so I have that going for me. It is pretty scorching here, the kind of hot where you realize your jeans need to dry out once you take them off at night because the belt area is soaked through with sweat. In good news I have a solid compañera here, a youth development volunteer from the class ahead of mine, and she knows her way around and has been introducing me to everyone. The mayor is by all indications very active in getting the municipality money from big government Honduras and both he and a Spanish NGO here say there is much water work to be done in the area.

Now begins the slow process of meeting people one by one and trying to establish myself within the town and surrounding aldeas. I am currently living with my third host family, which as you might imagine is getting quite old. It is, true, and I can not wait to get my own place and start being truly independent, but this family is feeding me well, washing my clothes, and charging me virtually nothing for any of it. But am I torn? At all? Ok, no, I definitely want to be on my own. So that’s the scoop, everyone, and despite the lack of internet access here I do hope that I can write more regularly from here on out. Keep sending the comments and emails as you have the time. A BIG congrats to Ms. Jenna Nobles (who no longer goes by that name, I suppose) for the wedding about three weeks ago!!! Life events, people, try to keep those on hold…
Much love from Yoro,
Joe

A long march comes to its end...

2007-04-22T17:07:00.000-07:00

Now it is Sunday and we have only a few days left here in Sabanagrande doing our field based training. The last two weeks have been fairly eventful down here and of course the sobering news of tragedy in Virginia reached us. People in our group heard the news by around noon on the 17th because we have a Virginia Tech alum who had been reached by her mother, I think, and other volunteers had been on the internet in the morning and passed it to everyone. It covered the front page of the papers here for three days but I needed to spend some time in the internet café reading American papers to fully understand the events. What an awful ordeal, all of our hearts go out to everyone affected, wherever you are.

In trivial news by comparison, we have nearly finished up work here in our current training site. The major work in the last ten days was two presentations to locals, the first a 4 hour HIV/AIDS lecture we gave to schoolchildren two Fridays ago, and the most recent a 2 hour presentation of the ins and outs of setting up and running a local water board to members of surrounding communities. The last was more daunting because it was on a subject we are just now learning about and was given to members of current water boards or people representing villages or towns looking to set one up. We are not sure we didn’t sound like a bunch of Borats in front of them, but it was a good experience.

Better news still is, as I have mentioned a few times already, we are leaving here in a few days. Tomorrow is the day of our site announcement, the day everyone has either been dreading or looking forward to for at least a month or two by now. It is easy to get caught up in the excitement and start sweating the details of your future location, but the truth is we do not have a huge say in the matter and even if we did, what exactly can we contribute? I do not know the country well at all, have only visited or briefly stayed in three towns, so it’s probably better that someone else is making the decision for me. I wanted rural and isolated when this began, before I knew anything, and I will stick with that—seems more like a true PC experience than living in a big town. But like I said, what do I know?

In somewhat sobering news from down here we have lost a member of our group of 51, someone from one of the other programs. All the information we have in our little site is second and third hand so I do not know anything for sure except that someone was sent home by the powers that be. Since we arrived in country over two months ago this is the first person to leave for whatever reason, so it’s a little sad because we all know each other more or less. It’s no good and hopefully the last time it happens.

For fun we have done a couple cool things on the weekends. Last weekend a small group of us went on a three hour hike to a small watering hole in a not-so-nearby town. We packed lunches, lots of water, and left around 9am. We got there at noon, ate lunch and then went swimming (pictures to come) in a great, secluded little section of a river, and at 4pm we started the trek back. When we finally arrived home it was nearly 7pm and my legs felt like I had just run a marathon—limping, awful pain everywhere, but somewhat delirious and euphoric! Then yesterday a group of us went halfway down that same road and then turned off and followed a trail to a small pond and waterfall which was at the base of a massive hill. It was great because the pond was insanely deep and you could climb up the rocks and jump off twenty feet or so. I have to say that at the moment we all decided to try and climb the rocks I felt a new appreciation for what my sister and brother-in-law do all the time—rock climbing is hard! And if we fell we were landing in a pool of water; the thought of doing it off the side of some mountain made my stomach a little queasy.

So that is all the news from Sabanagrande, all that’s fit to print. The upcoming week has us learning our sites tomorrow in a big announcement deal which I hope ends up happily for everyone, then Tuesday we have our goodbye party for the families, and Wednesday we leave. All the groups reunite in a city somewhere north of here, stay together for an afternoon and evening, and then we all go off to our new sites for two or three days to drop off our bags, meet everyone we can, and walk around. Then we all come back to Santa Lucia, our first home here in Honduras, for a week of wrapping up training. Swearing in happens in Tegucigalpa and then we’re done with training and embark on the journey. More to come…
Joe

Continued...

2007-04-13T17:26:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the interruption, it could not be helped but I do not like to keep you all waiting. So here is the situation: Semana Santa is done and we are back to work here in Sabanagrande. There are only two weeks left of FBT here and then we return to Santa Lucia to reunite with the large group of 51 aspirantes. We will swear in as volunteers, if all goes well, and then we are off to our individual sites and the two year countdown begins. Two weeks from now, just before we leave Sabanagrande, we find out where each of us will be for the next two years during a big “site announcement” party. It is a nerve-wracking deal, to be sure, but since none of us really has any control or a great knowledge of the different regions of the country, there is no point in sweating it for too long.

To be honest, there is not a lot of time left here for training and while I am excited to be done and to reunite with the large group, I am not quite sure I am ready to be set free out in the country. We have had some solid training and good experience with doing surveys and using different equipment but the thought of being the only volunteer in some town or village and being responsible for bringing water to them is a bit overwhelming. Cold feet, you say, suck it up and get to work. Right. And I am sure once I am out there I will feel more comfortable with what I can do, but at the moment it seems daunting.

At the moment that is all I have for you. The countdown to site announcement has begun but until that day there is nothing of note. I love the comments so keep at them between filing motions or treating patients or writing judge’s decisions or making another few thousand or writing articles or designing dresses or studying or teaching or whatever you have on your plate at the moment, ok? Much love from Honduras.

2007-04-09T16:16:00.000-07:00

April 8, Easter Sunday
It has been awhile since my last entry and I know you have all been waiting on the edge of your seats...of course. Before I move on I want to wish my dad a Happy Birthday and one as well to Daniel Ramon. Feliz cumpleaños, the two of you!

Ok so at the moment it is Easter Sunday and I just returned from a trip to the north coast with my host mother and her 3 yr old daughter. As mentioned in the previous entry, the PC has forbidden us from travel outside of our current sites unless our host families go with us. As it turns out, I was the only one of the water/sanitation crew who was fortunate enough to leave town…pride and shame, I feel. The trip was nice and let me use the description of it to educate those of you who do not know much about Central America. We went to stay with a cousin, I believe, of my host mother in San Pedro Sula, which is up north and about 30 minutes drive from a great beach town. Here’s the education: Honduras is the only Central American country which has multiple cities the size and strength of a country capital. Outside of Guatemala City or San Salvador, for example, you have only much smaller towns and villages. San Pedro Sula is the industrial center of Honduras and as a city is nearly as large as Tegucigalpa, the capital. In point of fact, there is a third city in Honduras, La Ceiba, which is on the north coast, which can more than hold a candle to Tegucigalpa and San Pedro Sula, but let’s not get carried away.

So from Wednesday evening until Sunday morning we were in San Pedro Sula and on Friday spent the day on the beaches of Puerto Córtes. A very good Semana Santa which included a new dish called Sopa de Pescado Seco, a soup traditionally served during the holy week. All in all it was a great excursion from Sabanagrande and a pleasant few days away from all things PC. But what else have I left out?

The Sunday before my family and I (and another aspirante, Chris, who lives in the house of what is my host grandmother) went to the south coast for the day. That was a three hour bus ride each way in a yellow school bus full of evangelicals! I say that not as a bad thing, generally speaking, but we did listen to a CD of Christian music the entire time there and back—and the single disc we listened to consisted of only 7 or 8 songs. I know the words and the background arrangement to the entire collection of songs, my favorite being “En La Casa de Dios”. That beach was nice as well but at the moment I have to give my nod to Puerto Córtes and the north coast. More tranquilo in the south, perhaps, but there is a reason the masses flock north.

Moving on, what in the field of Peace Corps work and knowledge? A good question. First off, we constructed from scratch two latrines outside of a kindergarten that will be finished soon. That meant, among other things, digging two holes 2.5 meters deep, building a rock wall at the mouth of each hole, mixing sand, gravel, and cement mix and making a concrete cover for each hole, doing the same for the base of two latrines, then building the structures themselves out of wood and sheet rock, and finally digging a trench .5 meter deep and nearly ten meters in length. We also built an improved oven at the house of a local family. How is it an improvement, you ask? Another good question. The improvement is in the use of tiles built into the walls of the oven and the use of a certain mud, all to improve insulation. The final improvement is that the hole to put wood in is much smaller, so while one need burn less wood there is no loss in heat or cooking ability. Overall goal, of course, is reducing the amount of wood each family is using because one of the major issues in the country at the moment is deforestation. The idea behind both of these last two projects is to familiarize us with what types of side projects each of us may be involved in outside of our water and sanitation specific work. The latrine building is actually directly related with what we do but is an aside from the construction of water systems, which will be job number one.
Some of you have asked, “Well Joe, it is laudable (and very impressive) that you teach children ages 6 and 7, how to use a computer at the local grade school. It requires patience and mental fortitude and a knowledge of the intricacies of the Spanish language to such a degree that surely few could even attempt such work. But what, exactly, does it have to do with water and sanitation?” A question that gets to the heart of the matter and I am grateful for that. The short answer is nothing at all. The longer answer is that the PC language staff has determined that instead of sitting through Spanish class five days a week, some few, some of us lucky few, will have the opportunity to use our language skills out in the community. It is not really panning out all that excellently to this point, though, because on occasion the teachers just do not send us students. Well, ok, that happened once and then another time the school principal did not expect us until the next day so we could not teach that day, either. Either way I think we are moving on to a new project this upcoming week, so please just calm down with all the intense and leading questions. I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition.

Unfortunately, friends, thats all the time I have for the moment but expect more soon.
Joe

Sabanagrande...

2007-03-25T08:44:00.000-07:00

So last Sunday the water/sanitation group made the trip south to Sabanagrande. It is a town slightly bigger than Santa Lucia but somehow there seems to be less going on. No worries, we’re not here to make friends, we’re here to get down to business. Right. The idea is each program (Wat/San, Business, and Health) all split up for the next five weeks to get intensive technical training…we here in the Peace Corps call it Field Based Training (FBT). For Health I think that means giving charlas about how HIV is bad news, for Business it’s where can we set up a new Starbucks. I’m kidding, I dig people in both groups and I am sure at some point they will be able to do something productive…though perhaps nothing like bringing potable water to a community in need!

We have a new policy this year with Peace Corps, apparently, and it involves serious movement restrictions for our entire class. Because of the transgressions of individuals in previous groups we have been forbidden to leave our little site for the next five weeks unless the families we are staying with take us somewhere with them. This poses a bit of a problem because, as I mentioned before, there seems to be less to do here than in Santa Lucia. So all of us are sweating the coming thirty five + days but of course we are all good government employees and will do our best to abide by the new rules of the man.

I am one of the lucky ones, though, because at the moment my family has plans to get the heck out of dodge for Semana Santa. With that to look forward to I may be able to get through two weekends of no activity—that’s what I’m telling myself anyway. Speaking of my new family, it is a young woman and her three year old daughter and they are fantastic. My mother’s mother is also hosting an aspirante and has done so for decades and before that her mother hosted aspirantes forever…and also has one of her own right now, too. The living is a bit more rustic than my previous digs in Santa Lucia but I actually kind of like it. My room is a corner of the living room with plyboard walls six feet high separating me from the rest of the room…my ceiling is the living room ceiling, my light is the living room light. There are mosquitoes everywhere because my madre runs her own pulperia out of the house and always has the doors open, but I do have a mosquito net to sleep in—my own little fortress of solitude.

For the first couple of days showering consisted of getting a bucket of water from the pila in the back yard and dumping bowls of water on myself in between lathering up. Now there is water in the tank so I can stand under a showerhead and take a cold shower like everyone else. But I think this process repeats itself at the end of every week. Brushing my teeth was the same deal, going to the pila in the back and dipping a cup of water into it to rinse out my mouth and brush, but now I can use a little sink in the back. There is not a mirror to be found in the entire house, either, so to shave I use the little plastic coated mirror that came in my travel toiletry bag. But all of this—my 6 by 8ft room with no shelves, the occasional bucket shower and backyard toothbrush sessions, no mirror anywhere—amounts to stuff I am not used to but not really anything too rough. Anyone could do this and I think it is actually good to live like this, at least for a time. But that’s kind of what I think about the Peace Corps in general—it is a great experience that anyone can do and everyone would benefit from. I’m still green and naïve, I know.

I should also point out that there is a mother and her three year old daughter who rents a room from my host madre and lives here during the week. So at night, that’s right, there are two 3 yr old girls running around, screaming and squealing and giggling and shouting and crying and fighting. It was a bit to take at first but I am slowly adjusting to the pitch of the volume during the evenings in my new home. And lastly, my madre is cooking three meals a day all week for a church group here in town. In addition to making thirty meals three times a day which some young dudes come and take to the church, there are also church bigwigs coming over and making themselves at home during meal times, which is also very cool. This means that around 7:30 pm every night there are two 3 yr old girls running around shrieking, my madre working herself into a frenzy in the kitchen, and three or so older evangelical church dudes sitting in the living room, eating and laughing and inviting me to hear the word of God. It’s a good time.

Actually, like I mentioned, the girls don’t bother me much anymore. But the longer I am here (and I realize it’s been less than six weeks at this point) the more I come to loathe organized religion. Ok, that’s a bit harsh. My view of Catholicism hasn’t changed because I have not come into contact with it much on a day to day basis here. I have always been a pick and choose Catholic anyway, and while my previous madre in Santa Lucia was very Catholic and went to church often, she never forced it down anyone’s throat—myself included. But between the evangelicals and the mormons down here you can not go a day without being lectured or witness someone being lectured to about the salvation of their soul and what they need to do to achieve it, etc etc. They are like ants in the towns that I have visited and lived in here in Honduras—a little army of Bible carrying youths trying to convert an already fairly religious region of the world into a different type of Christianity. Cool.

That’s kind of a downer subject to leave with, so I’ll go ahead and do just that! No, I forgot to mention that me and two other guys are spending the majority of the week teaching first and second graders the ins and outs of computers in the local elementary school. So we have that going for us. At the moment it is trying to help them discover a nice median between being afraid to touch the mouse at all and having a Vulcan death-grip on it. More to come on this subject…

Before I sign off this entry I want to thank all of you who sent out birthday love, either in email or blog comment form…it was much appreciated. I may or may not choose to remember all of your birthdays in the coming weeks and months—don’t I have a two year pass on that? And for future reference, in the event that any of you put together any sort of care package, the only thing I can really use some more of that I do not have access to is Extra gum (polar ice, preferably, but any flavor will do) and/or Orbit (sweet mint). This is not life or death, though, so do take your time and put some thought into these care packages—I know you’ll make them with love!

Things to look forward to: this time next week I will be going south to the beaches Honduras shares with Nicaragua and El Salvador with my family and later that week to the beaches in the north for Semana Santa!! Take care everyone and keep me updated on life in the States.

Joe

Joe, Montezuma...

2007-03-17T13:26:00.000-07:00

So that big Saturday celebration marking {all at once} our one month in Honduras, St. Patty's Day, our last night together as a big training group, etc etc, has hit a snag...for me anyway. A couple of nights ago I was hit hard with what the doctors have called a "bacterial infection". Call it what you want, docs, I maintain it was a bit of Montezuma's revenge. It was rough {I'll leave the details to your imagination} and the effects have been far-reaching...forget no opening night March Madness watching, no non-soup meals for the past couple of days. Better now thanks to the previously mentioned docs and their drugs and I plan on watching BC play tonight here in the one bar with a television. Congrats to my buddy Sarat who is currently in Peru but just found out he placed at his first choice for residency at Miami! And to Mike Meier, who is either not reading this blog or just refraining from making silly comments {yes, they've been nothing but "silly" to this point, friends}, who is celebrating a birthday today...27 is it?! Anyway, I think thats it for the moment. Oh, mailing address does not change, so all those of you (and there are a number of you) who were holding off on mailing those letters/care packages, go ahead and put them in the mail--I will receive them at my new site! Ok, I hope all is well in the States and wherever you guys are, more from me a little later.
Joe

Three weeks...

2007-03-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

Sunday day and I just returned last night from a three day visit to another volunteer’s place in the northwest, Santa Barbara. It is a department that borders

Guatemala

and I was in the city of the same name visiting a volunteer in his fourth year here. He just married a Honduran woman who he had known for nearly the entire time he had been in the city and in June they are moving back to the States. All aspirantes visited volunteers out in the country this weekend as a means to get outside of our sleepy little town, see how the buses work, and see a volunteer in his element. My experience was a great one because all day Friday we were doing Water & Sanitation stuff, the kind of thing I have been learning about for the past three weeks. This consisted of hiking through forests with a town local leading the way with a machete to cut through thicker vegetation so we could find a water source.

There were no trails and I did a lot of slipping and falling, nearly losing my shoes in mud a couple of times, but the whole time I kept thinking that this time last year I was sitting behind a desk pushing papers on my ship, occasionally walking around trying to find someone that had already left for the day. There was some down time as well, which may or may not have included a karaoke bar, but mostly it was just fantastic to see a different part of the country and get my hands dirty. Here’s a couple of shots of us at a site in a town where construction on a water-capturing box has begun, scenic and otherwise…

Lastly a shot of the town of Santa Barbara from the patio of my volunteer's place...

What else can I write at the moment? Our group is fifty one people total, I think, and while there are a lot of people who are just out of college, there are also a fair number between the ages of 24 and 30, too. In Water & Sanitation there are 16 of us, 12 guys and 4 girls, half engineers and half anything but—history, language, art majors and others. So at the moment we are all back in Santa Lucia and will be here for only one more week. Next Sunday we all leave for training in our distinct programs: Wat/San, Business and Health at three different places for 4 weeks of technical training. That is going to be a lot of hands-on activity as well and I am excited to learn everything I can about setting up and designing water systems. It will be cool to get closer with our programs and not have all fifty one of us around all the time but I think we’ll definitely miss being together as a group, too. What does all this mean? That this upcoming Saturday, aside from being St. Patty’s Day, will also be our one month mark in Honduras, and our last night together as a big group…good times.

Also, on Saturday I bought a cell phone in Tegucigalpa because it is apparently the way to go to communicate with other volunteers and also our program managers. So I will send out an email here in a little to see if I can figure out how it works. But it appears as though I can text anyone in the US for about 5 cents—how much it will cost for you to respond I have no idea. But you had better pay it, whatever the cost. It is going to be an 8 digit number and the country code for Honduras is 504, just so you know. On a similar subject, I am not in dire need of anything at the moment, but in the case that you do send a care package or five, write “books” on the list of contents. Volunteers tell stories of receiving things like GPS units and other expensive items as long as the inventory list only says books whereas anything else is a likely candidate for pilfering. Also, the address I gave in an earlier entry does in fact work, so have no fears. If we learn that it will change while we are out of our training center over the next few weeks I will update as necessary.

Nothing else at the moment, just another week of classes about to begin, so I will leave you with some promised pictures…

Pictures of the “pila” where the hand washing of all clothes is done, followed by my clothes hanging on the line to dry…it was a good day.

The view towards Tegucigalpa from the front porch where I am living now...

A wild week...

2007-03-02T13:24:00.000-08:00

Our first full weekend in Santa Lucia…got up late on Saturday, ate some breakfast and Dona Marta (my Hondureña madre) taught me how to wash my clothes by hand. Excelente! The rest of the day was very relaxed as my legs are not used to the hills or the soccer games that I have been dragging them through…they needed rest. That night all of the mothers who are hosting PC aspirantes (remember, we’re not volunteers until we swear in May 3^rd) hosted a party for us, which was very nice. Much food and afterward much dancing. As it turns out my mother was the only one who had any desire to dance, so we were tearing up the floor for a bit. The other aspirantes laughed and the local women thought it was a bit scandalous, I guess, that my mother was dancing with a gringo…but what can you do. It should also be pointed out that my “mother” here is also a mother of five boys of her own and several grandchildren.

Sunday was a trip to church and then going to the local campo to watch a soccer game—Santa Lucia vs. Tegucigalpa. Our little town won, 3-0, so that was very cool if not surprising. After attending a game a group of us got together to watch more games on TV, both here in Honduras and some La Liga action from Espana. Dinner with the family that night was excellent and then afterward Dona Marta, her son and grandson and I watched the Oscars. Of course I didn’t stay up to watch it all, but I was pleased to see The Departed take some big awards. Somewhat odd that I am here in Honduras and I’m writing about the Oscars? Just be happy I am not writing in Spanish, people, because with as much as I need to practice, the thought did cross my mind. As far as world events are concerned, I am definitely clueless at the moment…ignorance is bliss, no?

It is much later in the week now and I am updating on the same entry. To continue with a recent subject, I have noted that American pop culture has found me here in Santa Lucia (the youngest in the house was watching Malcolm in the Middle two nights ago) which is unfortunate. But as our instructors keep telling us, this town is nearly resort-status so these luxuries will not be with us for our entire stay. In other news, went with a small group of fellow aspirantes to the capital, Tegucigalpa, on Wednesday. As aspirantes we are forbidden to go on our own (this was a Spanish class project) and the city has nearly reached the that-which-must-not-be-named level what with the dangers we gringos face if we go unescorted. Beware the buses! Beware two people on motorcycles! On and on it goes. But I have to give it to the PC, they sent some of us in anyway and it was a good experience. Did not see a whole lot as we were only there for a few hours, but it’s always cool to see the capital of a foreign country.

At one of the markets there I did buy my very own pair of tacos, or soccer shoes, because I have been tearing up the local fields here. Ok, so I don’t want to look the part of a soccer player because as soon as I get the ball and am expected to do anything with it all hopes are dashed, but I had been handing a beating to my hiking shoes so I needed to make the change. By the way, the brand with three stripes? Adidas? No, they’re Flamigos…just in case you wondered.

The hills are still kicking the crap out of me. How is it that at nearly two weeks here every…single…hill feels like the first one I have ever climbed. This town may kill my love of running because as it stands now, I want to cry every time I step outside to run because I am anticipating the pain to follow. At some point soon I will figure out pictures on this thing and then you can see for yourselves. At the end of next week I am gone for two days (all of us are) to go visit a current volunteer in the field and get a taste of what its like. Tomorrow I am going to a wedding with my host mother. No, there will be no dancing tomorrow. More soon.

Joe

PS-It is of note that I have indeed figured out pictures on this thing. See an earlier entry for a lovely one of my family in NM before I left. This also means you will be seeing the wonderful views and painful hills that are Santa Lucia soon and very soon.

PPS-It is also of note that the brief ´mispelling´that I had at the beginning of the previous entry was done because of my attempts to make this gringo-friendly. Honduran friends translates into amigos hondureños, hence the e instead of the a at the end of the word. It is because I suffer to make this easier reading for my friends that I am mocked and ridiculed.

Our Honduran friends...

2007-02-22T14:46:00.000-08:00

Ok it is Ash Wednesday at the moment, the evening of, although I do not know what mr. blog is going to put as the date stamp. But here it is at the moment. Today was the third day of classes with the PC gang. We are currently in Santa Lucia, Honduras, a remarkably picturesque town northeast of Tegucigalpa, the capital. From 0730 to 1630 (military time is easier, no?) everyday we are in class, half of which so far is “Survival Spanish” as they say, and the other having to do with medical and safety and housekeeping issues.

Basic stuff: we arrived in two groups from DC this past weekend because that East coast town somehow does not know how to handle snow—two inches kept us from leaving as a group last Wednesday. There are around fifty of us total, from all over as you might imagine. Each of us is currently living with a host family and in most cases all is well. My host mother is also a grandmother but does more than most people I know, of any age. She is apparently the town’s mother as well because on our way to church on Sunday every one on the street, both young and old, stopped and talked with her. She volunteers her time and her house to teach children in the town that were not accepted or could not pay for school here, she volunteers with readings and prayer sessions at the church and is almost always gone doing something. This is in addition to cooking me three meals a day and laughing at my attempts to communicate.

On that note I will say briefly that I am no stranger to Spanish, as most of you know, but have been disappointed to this point by how vocab and verb tenses and other things have not been coming back to me like I had hoped. Our group is fairly diverse and accomplished—only one of the fifty plus had never been outside the USA—and there are any number of very accomplished speakers. Solid group so far, impressed with the Spanish, but clearly I am still getting to know them…and then we’ll be reassigned to different posts and hardly have any contact for two years! It goes without saying, of course, that every last one of them is far cooler than any one of the friends I have made from previous experiences in my life. Just kidding.

I write all this as a brief and uninteresting introduction to what has been going on. Here were today’s events, in a nutshell, because today was the kind of day that makes a person feel lucky to be alive. Got up at 0530 to go running; left the house at 0545 (yes, my Hondurena mother was already up as well). Did I mention that Santa Lucia is nothing if not massive hills and spectacular views? Anyway, the hills destroyed me but a morning run is like a slice of pizza—even when it’s bad its really pretty good. Returned home, showered, ate breakfast, chatted a bit with mi madre, got to class on time. Left class around 5 (sorry, 1700), returned home to see the group of students in the kitchen listening attentively to mi madre’s direction, changed and met some fellow trainees on a nearby soccer field—it is on the side of one of these massive hills and overlooks Tegucigalpa…ridiculous. Played for over an hour with fellow trainees and a couple of local guys—extremely tiresome but obviously very fun. Ran home, jumped in the shower quickly, changed into nice clothes, devoured the delicious plate of food mi madre had prepared and then the two of us walked to the church for Ash Wednesday services. Quite a town event and, of course, mi madre was the first one to speak during the services…I had no idea! Bueno, that’s enough rambling for one entry. Alive and well here in the lovely Santa Lucia.

I should also point out that its the cool thing to do now to write your entries and emails at home on mr. laptop and then save on a flash drive and cut and paste to save time. As such, I have just now read some of the ¨comments¨from my previous entries...good job, everyone. Very impressed and I will respond in kind. Until next time.
Joe

A loose seal

2007-02-09T20:39:00.000-08:00

I had hoped to write in here a little more before the big day, but that day has arrived and I have nothing to show for it, entry-wise. Packing progress is stepping up but to say that I have actually packed would be incorrect. So in the first entry I seemed to have overcome my fears of a self-involved and incredibly boring blog by believing this narrative would be helpful and informative to my friends and family. But no, this is going to be narcissistic and boring. Extremely, and on both counts. No worries, I'll try to make it somewhat humorous along the way, too.
Ok, I am in NM at the moment and it is my second-to-last night here before leaving for D.C. to meet the rest of the Peace Corps gang. By the way, here´s a picture of the family together on one of the last nights...how cute.On Wednesday of next week we will be spending our first night in Honduras, each of us with our own host family. For those of you who I have not been able to speak to recently, here's a very brief breakdown of how things will go (as I understand them): we arrive in the capital, Tegucigalpa, on Wednesday but leave immediately for a small town by the name of Santa Lucia. That is where we will all be for the next three months, on and off, for training given by the Peace Corps. Only after training is complete sometime in May will each of us be told where in the country we will be living for the next two years. So, before I forget, here is the address we can receive snail mail at for the next three months:
Cuerpo de Paz
Apartado 3158
Tegucigalpa, Honduras C.A.

You'll notice, of course, that the address says Tegucigalpa. In no way does that invalidate what I described as our living situation above. Hows that, you ask?! I don't know, I just don't know.
Please don't ask me follow up questions.

Finally, I will miss all you guys and gals very much. And really, it's because of the adventurous and talented friends that I have made over the years that I am going on this trip in the first place. Please feel free to mock this blog at every available opportunity, write snail mail, and yes--visit me. As cool as each of you punks thinks you are, I know very few of you that have actually been to Honduras yet. Don't think of it as a trip to see me but as an adventure to Central America...for yourself.
So I go now to wrestle with my suitcases and see just how hard this is gonna be. Much love, we'll talk soon.
Joe

Development arrested...

2007-01-29T20:10:00.000-08:00

Devotees of the show will recognize this blog's title as being the name of Marta's spanish language soap opera. I can only hope there is a similarly titled telenovela in Honduras, but I won't hold my breath. Whereas once I thought blogs were narcissistic and boring beyond belief, I now realize that this will in fact be a useful way to chronicle my time in the Peace Corps and regularly update my friends and family with the goings-on in Honduras.
At the moment I am in New Mexico, counting down the last two weeks before departure to meet the rest of the gang in D.C. for a couple of days. Nothing has been packed but progress is being made toward that end--slow progress. This is blog entry number one and I can only hope it gets better from here. More later.
BH