Relay for Life tomorrow

Well here is my last plug before we hit the track. Our family would love to have you come and join us sometime between
10:00 AM tomorrow (Saturday) morning and 10:00 AM Sunday morning. We will be circling the track to raise funds for cancer research and cancer patient support. We are "The Squib Kicks!" and everyone who joins us will get a custom designed T-shirt (made by Matthew). If you would like to support our team with a donation it is not too late (in fact, we can turn in money until the the end of the month). We are one of 50 teams and 507 participants. Should be lots of fun and beneficial for those who need help too.
Dan's SIRSphere treatment is scheduled for Thursday morning at 8:00 AM. We appreciate your prayer for the effectiveness of this treatment to destroy ALL the remaining cancer cells in his liver and for the rest of his body to handle any adverse side effects.
Join us in asking the LORD our God to bring complete healing for Dan.

Eph 3:14-21
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father,
from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named,
that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being,
so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love,
may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth,
and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,
to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen..

Dinner with Honduras

On a dark, cold night, I knocked on the door of a small, earthen house. I came from curiosity, knowing that there were things to learn inside, though not yet knowing what. And perhaps I just wanted to get out of the cold. The door was opened by the small, gnarled hand of a small, gnarled woman. She quietly regarded me as I waited in anticipation on the porch. Then opening the door full, she welcomed me into the warmth of her home with a tired smile: "pase adelante." I entered her house with an eager step, eyes open to soak up what I could. I kissed her with the obligatory kiss of a stranger, to do what was expected. Then with her lips she pointed to a plastic chair and I sat as she went about her work.
She is Honduras, and I have come to know her.

I watched her as she began to prepare a plate of food for me. Her hair was drawn back, growing sparse like the mountain forests. Her aging skin, the color of roadside honey, her hands, worn with the work of many mornings and her arms as strong as ceiba trees. Her belly and hips were casualties of the joy she took in her many children. Over her old skirt she wore an apron with yellow frills, in which she kept the earnings of the day, selling tortillas and mangos. On her back was a second-hand shirt made by the sweat of her children. When she smiled, warm as the tropic sun, her teeth showed like scattered kernels of corn and her eyes sparkled blue like the waters of the northern coast.
She is beautiful, though she doesn't know it.

She set the plate in front of me: rice and beans, golden plantains, fresh corn tortillas, a lump of cheese, and smooth mantequilla. I began to eat and continued to study my hostess. I saw on her arm a bruise where her lover had gripped her too tightly. A foreigner from the north, he came with a strong grasp to take from her what he needed. He still hangs about the house, their relationship close and amicable, but the power differential is clear. She loves him and hates him. He will never leave, and she would never leave him.
But she is strong, though she doesn't know it.

As I sat at the table, savoring the food, her children were passing back and forth through the kitchen. Some children were well-dressed with long-toed shoes, others were dirty from working in the garden. One eyed me to the side as he passed, flashing an 18 tattooed on his wrist. Some were leaving through the back door, chasing a dream, but the children kept coming out of the bedroom to fill their place. The more I watched, the more I understood what they were about, but I could never claim to really know them. They spoke to me with grace and I to them with broken lines and phrases unsure, but somehow the meaning made its way through the muddled words, cutting windows into their eyes so that I could catch a glimpse inside. At times the windows stared, and at times, looked away.
They are my brothers; oh, that I would know it.

I am full and it is time to go. I look sadly at the plate. So much food has been left on it that I couldn't finish. My hostess smiles and shakes her head, takes the plate away, and gently leads me to the door. A tear hides in the corner of her eye, and one in mine, but perhaps the tears mean different things. One last embrace and I am gone. As I walk out the door, my legs are a little stronger, my skin is a little darker, my belly a little rounder, and my eyes, hopefully, a little wiser. Mucho gusto, Honduras, and thank you for your hospitality. My dinner with you has left me satisfied and wanting more.

the end

so my mother has informed me that my blog needs closure.

well i am home. or at least one of my homes: biola. im having fun.

i told you at the beginning that i wasn't always good at keeping up with these things. the last month of the program got a little crazy, and so the blog was one of the first things to go. brushing my teeth was next. just kidding.

after i got back from the final week in San Pedro Sula, we only had a few days to compile and give our class presentations. i did mine on immigration. i sort of developed an interest in the issue of immigration this semester. then we all dispersed for holy week. i was tired and stressed, so i stayed in Teguicigalpa. it turned out to be a good thing, because i got to see the biola short-term missions team when they came. it was really great to see friends and be with people from my school. a little bit of home. the next week my parents came to visit me. this was fun for me and them. over the weekend we went up to the mountains to see what was up there. in the mean time, we started our third and final class on development practice. the weekend after my parents left, i went to el salvador with some friends. i surfed for the first time. it was great, but getting out of the ocean was a little rocky, if you know what i mean. i was pretty scraped up and sore, and i lost my toe ring, but it was great.

the next weekend i went to a small rural village called Guanabano to do my field practicum. 9 days. 80 hours. 1,000,000 degrees under the sun. 2 showers. here is an excerpt from an email about what happened:

The field practicum went well. Or as well as could be expected. It was really one of the hardest weeks in my life, but also a very rewarding one. Since my project required that I approach strangers and ask for their time and put myself out there (things that I find uncomfortable and usually avoid), I was made to experience things that I usually don’t. Remember how I wrote before about being social and if it is a requirement or an opportunity? Well I really saw how getting to know people can be so rewarding and enlightening. I met and conversed with and connected with these rural farming men and women, who are so completely different than people with whom I am accustomed to interacting. While approaching them in their houses was hard for me every time, every time I was blessed with their kindness and openness, and talking to them gave me insight into who these people were and what this community was like. They invited me to eat with them, they joked with me, they gave me their stories when I asked them. I was so tired every day, but every day when I came back to the place I stayed I felt rewarded by the people I had met.

i got it done. now im going to write it up.

the final days in honduras were weird. a little stressful, having to get homework done, presents bought, farewell parties gone to, time spent with the fellow students who had become my brothers and sisters in the past months...mother's day was the last day in honduras, which is pretty much the biggest day in latin america next to christmas. and as all the hondurans were partying, i just sat there with a completely different mix of emotions than the people around me. i stayed at the celebration as long as i needed to, kissed them goodbye, then left to meet some friends. we sat at the feet of a statue of kennedy (our neighborhood was named after him), and soaked in the weirdness of our last night. nothing really significant was said. it was just the being there. and then the last walk back through the empty streets. the quiet cool air, the tight feeling in our chests, the anticipation of Home. that was our last night.

let us not even talk about the weirdness of the next day. but it culminated in joy.

im not sure if im ready to write about what i learned, or "how it was." so im leaving this entry as is. maybe i will write about it later. for now, i will let you read something i wrote as a sort of summary, or a farewell to honduras. i read it at the goodbye session for our group. i barely kept my voice steady by the last paragraph. anyway, i hope you like it. if you don't, that's cool too.

...and back again

On Friday (this is still on our backpacking trip. yeah i’m behind) we headed toward the Guatemala/Honduras border. I made it there with $1 left in my pocket! But now that we were in Honduras, I had all my Lempiras, so we had no longer had to worry about it. We took a series of buses to Tela, Honduras, which is a small beach town on the north coast. On the way we met a bunch of backpackers going on the same route. One was an Australian that had just been traveling in the US, and he had stayed in Fullerton and had been through La Mirada! This was very strange, but funny. He said everyone he met there was super friendly, which was encouraging to hear. Americans aren’t so bad, ok? When we got to Tela, we started to look for a place to stay with some of the travelers from the bus. The town was inexplicably full that night, but we managed to find a small room for about $3.50 each, sharing with one of our new friends. The room was reminiscent of a prison cell, with no door on the bathroom or soap or toilet paper, but complete with a curious little cockroach who greeted us from over the bathroom wall. In the morning we ate breakfast on the beach and wandered around the town. We found a new room which was a little cheaper and cleaner. We tanned/burned on the beach, drank milk out of a coconut, explored, and watched the sunset from an abandoned pier. That night we ate a ridiculously huge dinner (since we saved so much on food in Guatemala), mused under the bright moon on our hotel’s ramshackle balcony, and played Rummy on our hotel bed. That was when we saw the inside of our room door, on which someone wrote something like “Don’t stay in this hotel, don’t pay for your room before you sleep here, it’s a place for prostitutes and gays!” There were some girls on the balcony, but...no....Well it made for some interesting dreams. Nothing happened, though.

After we got back to San Pedro Sula, we spent another week in Cofradia studying. We heard from immigrants (people who had been to or had tried to go to the U.S.), visited banana factories (one of Chiquita and one of Dole), and interviewed Catholic and Protestant church leaders about their role in social issues. We returned to Tegucigalpa last night, and it feels good to be “home,” and in a less hot and humid climate. We are more than halfway done with the semester, which feels strange, but we still have a long way to go. On Tuesday we are doing group presentations on one of the topics we’ve covered (mine is immigration), and then from Wednesday to Sunday we have our break for Holy Week. Yay for Catholic culture.

sweet river, steaming waterfall

after our departure from antigua, karah and i headed to Rio Dulce, with the intension of going on to Livingston, a fishing town you can reach only by boat. the bus took longer than we though (as always), so we reached Rio Dulce at dusk. on the bus we met a dutch lady, Babette, who ran a bar right near the bus stop, and she offered to help us find a place to stay. note: guidebooks are fine and dandy, but you really cant depend on them in a literal sense. i guess thats why they are not called "factbooks." anyway, we hung out with some locals and fellow travelers while she called a nearby hostel to get us some beds and to send a boat to pick us up. the boat took us across a fairly wide river to an inlet where the hostel was. this place, Casa Perico, was a bungalow-type place, completely above water/swamp. the path to the bathroom was a wooden walkway, with shallow water just below. we stayed in the dorm ($5.50/night!) , under a tall thatched roof, which was lofted above hammocks, tables, chairs, and sofas of the hangout area of the hostel. it was really incredible. it rained a lot in the night, and the noise it made on the thatch was great. the air was thick and warm, but not uncomfortable. the next day, we decided to go to a hot spring near Rio instead of Livingston, because we were still being denied by atm machines and quickly running out of Quetzales. a boat to Livingston cost $10, which was basically what i had left. from there, we could take a series of ferries and buses to the honduras border, and stay one night in a cheap place, but we'd be stranded if the costs were more than the guidebook suggested. the springs were great though. the steaming water fell from a small cliff and created a 20 ft. waterfall of hot water, which felt like a really warm shower when you were underneath. it fell into a clear, deep stream of cold water, so the experience was perfect. we traveled there with a young couple from new york we had met in town while we were eating breakfast. we spent a few hours there, swimming, exploring, climbing vines. when we returned to our hostel, we took out a tiny carved-out canoe that the hostel had, out from the inlet and into the main river. we found a floating dock and went swimming off of it. the water was warm, and while we were laying on the dock it started to rain, a warm humid rain. it was a great night. after dark we hung out at the bungalow, playing cards with a guy from israel and eating delicious homemade bread that we bought from Babette's place. the next day we'd be back in Honduras, which was feeling more and more like home, and where we would actually have money to buy some real food!

summary in transit: antigua

well again, im really not sure what to write because there has been alot. last friday our group went to Copan, which is the site of some incredible Mayan ruins. i am a sucker for history, so it was really interesting and beautiful and grand. on sunday, we all parted ways, some to the Bay Islands of honduras, some to the north coast, one even to the states. i and a small group of friends headed to the guatamala border and then on to Antigua, one of the most enchanting cities in the world. seriously. its pretty small, no building higher than one story (except for the churches), and all painted with rich and bright colors, with plants hanging from the iron window guards. all the streets are cobblestone, and there are church and monastery ruins around every corner. we spent one whole day just exploring, shopping at the market, and taking photos. and trying to get money. the atms there were always out of cash, and therefore, so were we. we got by, though, and even had some extra to buy some presents at the craft market. the second day, we did some more exploring in the morning, then went hiking on Mt. Pacaya, a volcano outside of town. we had to go with a guide, and they dont take you to the peak, because its active, but we got so close to the lava flows, and toward the top, the volcanic rock that was our trail was warm. some other travelers brought marshmallows to roast and they shared some with us! they roasted them right in a crack on the trail. so funny. we met some really strange but great people. i didnt realize how social backpacking was. well i have to go catch a bus to my next location. i will update again when i get a chance.

i should never make plans

i am in cofradia, a small town outside of san pedro sula. this is where we are living while we study here, and it is no suburbia. or at least none that ive ever known. i am pressed for time though, so let me just catch you up on some interesting things. 1. on the way here i lost/had my wallet stolen! luckily, i only had one dollar in it, along with my honduran bank card and my mastercard. i was worried most about my bank card, since someone could drain that easier than my mastercard, and then what will i do for spring break, which is next week? thankfully, both cards were successfully cancelled and i realized that i can withdraw with my bank book, which i do have with me. someone did try to use the bank card, but they didnt allow the purchase or something. how nice. although i really am going to miss my little wallet. for spring break, i AM going to do something fabulous, but it was not what i planned. i wanted to get scuba certified at some islands on the north coast, but i wasnt feeling good about it, even though it is a great place to learn and the cheapest, literally, in the world. i dont know if it was the money or the fact that i know no other scuba divers, but i changed my mind. now, some friends and i are going to foot it up to guatemala and belize! i have a backpack, a passport, a guidebook, and hopefully some money, and we'll see what happens. our first destination is antigua, which i just learned is an UNESCO world heritage site. i am very happy about this plan. after that, maybe tikal (some mayan ruins in the jungle), and then belize city...but im not holding my breath. you can never tell what will happen in central america!

some blocks of text

wow, it’s been a while since i’ve written anything of substance. let’s break it down, because such long blocks of text are hard to read. oh and trust me, it’s going to be long. here we go:

TAKE IT SLOW – in the Olancho district of Honduras, there is a small rural community called Guanabano that we have been visiting. last weekend we stayed for two nights, and the weekend before that we stayed in a nearby town and met our families for the first time over lunch. during the last weekend stay, well, it was interesting. we stayed with families in pairs. krissy and i stayed with a youngish couple, who had one 7 yr. old girl. the girl was incredibly shy at first, but she soon warmed up to us, and then asked to sleep in our bed, even though she had cold/flu. we weren’t sure how to say no, especially because they gave us a full-sized bed and the couple and daughter were going to share a twin. between a sick girl, strong afternoon coffee, and roosters who were clearly confused about the time, it was a pretty sleepless night. the next day was nice though. we asked a ton of questions about country life. our family had chickens (some hatched when were there!), pigs, a parrot, a dog, and some subsistence crops. the taught us how to make tortillas on a clay stove and we taught them how to play Uno. in the afternoon we all went to a nearby river to swim. a baby chick died. not much more happened. it’s a slow and simple life there. i decided to do my anthropology field practicum in that community when we return in april, when we’ll be staying for about a week.

A GORDIAN KNOT – spanish class and our Honduran context class are now over. spanish is beginning to be a struggle now that i am not speaking and learning it for those first 3 hours each day. i have to be much more self-disciplined in learning vocabulary and intentionally speaking with Hondurans, especially having 3 hours of reading each night. to help, i have been reading (yes, quite slowly) a novel in spanish. i put the new words on tiny flashcards in order to memorize them. our next class is about development theory and poverty. this first week has been so intense. hearing the problems of the world laid out all at once really overwhelmed me; im not strong enough to hear them and remain calm. well im not freaking out, but maybe just a little depressed. and bewildered. it’s hard to know what i should do about it, but i guess that’s why im studying. still, what can any one person do to reverse the trends that plague this planet and its societies? i think we need more unity in the “development” community, and so have more focus. and effectiveness. that is my theory. but then, the unified development community would need have the right strategy, and what should that be? i am feeling more and more that “development” is an enormous Gordian knot.

MY PARTNER IN CRIME – i think i mentioned karah in my amapala entry, but i will expound. she is my closest friend here, and one of the fastest friends i’ve ever made. besides her respectable taste in music, lust for adventure, poetic manner of self-expression, and profound generosity, she is just a really great person. i wish you could all meet her. the first time she introduced herself to me, she offered me some clothes, since my bags were lost, and she was the only one who thought of that. and that was how we became friends. we live about 2 walking minutes away from each other, and so we do a lot of things together: walking to and from school (along with an average of 3 other people), running at a little stadium near my house, going to the internet café, reading on my roof, etc. a friendship like this was very unexpected and very welcome. earlier this week she went with me to have dinner with ryan mcgladdery, a friend from Lodi who is teaching here in the city, and some of his roommates. it was a great night, and so nice to hang out with people not in the calvin program but still fluent in english.

TO SHARE – today (i am writing this on friday night) was a bit unusual. we had a three day weekend, but i decided not to travel because a) i really need some rest and b) see the next section!!! so i asked my mamá if i could go to work with her and learn about the development organization she works for, Compartir, an organization that i am investigating for class. Compartir is spanish for To Share. i went to the administrative office for half an hour in the morning, where she works, but then went with some medical students out to Nueva Suyapa to see what actually goes on. oh i should mention, because i’ve referenced N.S. before, that it is a large community on the outskirts of Tegucigalpa, still considered part of the city. it’s one of the poorest communities in Tegucigalpa, and it is also where my professors have chosen to live. Compartir facilitates the sponsorship of children by people in France, mainly. i went around with a Honduran volunteer (a mormon named david) to various houses where sponsored children lived. he would ask questions about how the child or children were doing, what their school grades were, if they’ve been sick, etc. i would ask random questions too. they were pretty laid back visits. david had only been volunteering for 6 months, but he knew a lot of people in the community, and he liked to talk. in one house i saw a guitar hanging on the wall, and i asked who played. the father did, and he proudly took down the instrument and favored us with a rambling little tune. he also instructed us in the chords that composed the melody, and referred to them as Do, Re, Mi, and So on. ha. ok, you’re right mr. washington, it’s “Sol.” aren’t those from Latin? that would make sense. well anyway, it was really fun visiting the people in this way. one family had 5 day old kittens, which were, yeah i’ll admit it, a bit ugly. but im going to go back sometime and they’re going to be cute.

ON THE ROAD – on monday, we are all leaving Tegucigalpa on an extended field trip. for a week we will be in the other large city of Honduras, San Pedro Sula. we are staying with another family, this time in “gangs” of 3 – 5 people. we’ll be visiting maquilas (clothing factories), banana plantations, coffee farms, people trying to illegally immigrate (!!!!), etc. on the weekend we’ll visit Copan (ancient Mayan ruins, the gemstone of Honduran tourism), and the following week, spring break! i am keeping my plans a secret, so i can surprise you, but trust me, it’s going to be great. the week after that we are returning to San Pedro for another week of study and visits. so three weeks away from “home.” oh and then we are in Teguc for a few days, giving our final group presentations on our topic of choice and then....holy week! catholicism is grand, isn’t it? i want to go to Antigua, Guatemala for the celebration, because they say it’s the best in the world. and what is better than the best in the world? so basically, for the next month i am going to be in Unconventional Mode, which i am quite excited about. im getting too accustomed to things anyway.