Cow Danger

About two weeks ago Gayle, her friend Paul, Eleanor, Ana, and I decided to go for an afternoon hike. It isn’t that difficult to find beautiful places to hike to in La Union. All you have to do is follow a little dirt path up the mountain side and you will view unforgettable sights. On this particular Saturday we were headed out to St. Augustine, an aldea a mountain or two away from La Union. Gayle and I had hiked this once before in the beginning of the year, so we led the group up the mountain.

During the first part of the hike you walk down a dirt path. On either side of the path are barbed wire fences. Beyond those fences lay open fields with grazing herds of cows, wandering lone horses, and mountains as the picture perfect back drop. After awhile the dirt path ends, and you are forced to cross a river. Thankfully there are strategically placed stones for us to hop across on. Once on the other side of the river there is a small field, and then you start your climb up the huge mountain which leads to the breathtaking views and the aldea St. Augustine.

On the way to the river the hike was going quite smoothly. Nothing too out of the ordinary was happening; as usual we passed a few farmers on their horses carrying loads of supplies on their backs. But once we got the river, we ran into a small problem. On the other side of the river a herd of cows were settling down in the field, and they were starting to block our path towards St. Augustine. Everyone, minus me, fearlessly crossed the river and started to walk right through the herd of cows. I was a little more timid…I’m not super comfortable being two feet away from cows. You just never know what those cows are going to do! 

While walking through the herd of cows we had a hard time deciding if we should be more careful to keep space between us and the cows, or if we should be careful to avoid the cow poo that was every 15 inches (I swear it’s not healthy to poo that much). The entire time I was walking through the herd I kept muttering ‘just don’t make eye contact…just don’t make any eye contact’. I’m telling you, those cows can be intimidating! We eventually made it safely through the herd, and surprisingly no one had green poo squished in their shoes.

The hike up the mountain felt amazing. It’s pretty steep hike up the mountain, and I was struggling. I was pretty tired from being sick the day before and ok I’ll admit it, I could possibly be out of shape right now. Even though I was tired, the hike was more than worth it. Once you get on the top of the mountain, the path scales the mountain and gives you the most fantastic views. You can see for miles and miles and mountains upon mountains. My favorite thing about all the amazing views here is that everything looks so untouched. It's pure nature, pure God’s creation.

After a few pictures, a pit stop, and finding the world’s largest lemon, we started heading back to La Union. Once we got close to the river we realized the herd of cows was still there. But this time they were all lying down and of course blocking the river, which was our only passageway to La Union. Our group stopped short and debated what to do. Should we walk through the middle of the herd of cows while they are laying there? What if they get up and start to stampede? Most of them had huge horns, and didn’t look too shy to put them to good use!

Everyone decided that it was a good idea to walk through the herd…except for me. I was being a baby and was terrified. But on my defense, those cows were massive!! And what are we going to do if we upset them and they start running at us? There weren’t any rocks around to throw at them..only piles of their own poop. I was not about to defend myself with their own poo. The group reassured me the cows are used to people, they weren’t going to get upset. We started to approach the herd. The instant we came into close range, a huge white cow with large horns stood up. “This isn’t good guys, this is NOT good!” I was sputtering out. The rest of them were laughing at my fear and kept walking towards the herd. And that’s when the BULL stood up. Obviously the bull is the largest cow of the herd..and this bull was no exception. It was 8x the size of me, a huge hump covered its back, and its horns looked like it could pierce a cement block.

That’s the point where I decided it was time to TURN AROUND. I spun around and headed right back up that mountain! The entire group was laughing at me, “Erin, it’s not going to hurt you! Don’t be so scared!” But I didn’t really care they thought I was a scaredy-cat, I was not about to mess with those cows! “Be my guest, you can try and pass those cows but there is absolutely no way I’m going through them!!” I told the group. I may be the furthest thing from a farm girl, but I’m still from Iowa; I know what an angry cow looks like, and I know better than to mess with one. Once I was a safe distance away from the cows I just watched as the group carefully chose their steps through the herd. I also watched the white cow lower its head and start to stomp its foot. “GET OUT OF THERE!!” I shouted, “He is going to charge you!!” And this time the group believed me. They started to back up and put some safe space between them and the cows.

I couldn’t help but smirk and tell them, “I told you so.” I just hate being right… But now we had a real issue, how were we going to get back to La Union? The cows were blocking the river crossing, and there were barbed wire fences on either side of us keeping us fenced in with the cows. For a split second I debated staying on the side of the mountain until the cows were finished grazing there. How long do cows graze anyways?? The group decided the better option was try and climb through the barbed wire fence and cross the river at a different place. I agreed this was the better life decision.

I offered to go first through the barbed wire fence, remember I’m the Iowa native. There really is an art to climbing barbed wire fences. The trick is to first stand as CLOSE to the barb wire as possible. You need to put your LEG first through the fence. Next you have to make your body parallel to the barbed wire in between you so that your body doesn’t hook on anything. Once your torso is through, carefully raise your last leg and you’re through! Easy as pie. Once I was over I coached Ana and Eleanor giving them step by step instructions. Paul and Gayle found that jumping OVER the fence was easier for them. Well, we safe and there was now a nice pokey barbed wire fence between us and the herd. Ha! Take that you cows.

Now all we had to do was cross the river, which brought up another problem. Instead of having stepping stones across the river, there were thatches of trees blocking the crossing. So we either had to climb the trees and jump over the river, OR pass the herd of cows, climb over the fence again, and then cross on the stepping stones. We didn’t feel like monkeying around so we chose the latter. We walked past the herd with the fence separating us, and were JUST about to climb over the fence when the bull stood up and walked towards the river. Of course he decided that was the perfect time to take a nice long drink from the river. The bull didn’t seem too impressed that we were so close to the barbed wire fence, so we backed up and made as little eye contact as possible.

Looks like we were going to have to be monkeys! This time Paul went first. He successfully climbed the tree, swung over the river, climbed ANOTHER barbed wire fence on the other side, and was safe. I followed next and made it successfully over. As soon as I climbed the barbed wire fence on the other side of the river the bull finished drinking and moved away from the river. Now there was no need for Eleanor, Ana, and Gayle to climb the tree; they hopped the fence and crossed the river. All that climbing for nothing! But at least we were safe and away from the cows, I was more than happy about that.

We walked back into La Union with 3 more things than what we left with. We now had beautiful pictures to share with our friends and family, we had a ginormous lemon (the first lemon we’ve had in Honduras), and we had a new lesson learned; we now know better than to mess with a big horned group of angry cows. Life lesson #438 is written down in the books. 

I've Had Better Days

Pre-warning: This is a little bit graphic, so if you’re stomach isn’t feeling very strong today, you may not want to read any further.

When you move to a third world country, there is a high risk of getting extremely ill. Since August, I had my fair share of sicknesses. I’ve had heat sickness, the 24-hour flu, multiple fevers, and a couple common colds. Since I came back to Honduras in January, it seems as if I haven’t been healthy for a full straight week. I have had a couple fevers and some really bad colds which has caused me to miss some school. But those health problems don’t even compare to what happened to me the last few days.

Last Wednesday all the girl teachers came over to our house and we made a dinner together. We gorged ourselves in crepes filled with fresh fruit. By the end of the dinner I was extremely full and not feeling 100%. But nothing a good sleep can’t fix! I went to bed, got up, and went to school the next day. By the time I got to school I knew it was going to be a rough day. I kept having waves of nausea wash over me every twenty minutes. I tried to teach my first couple periods, but it was no use. The only thing I could manage to do was sit and put my head on my desk...I felt absolutely horrid. I found some teachers to cover my classes and headed home. Of course the only way to get home is to walk 20 minutes uphill to our house. I stopped several times on the way willing my body to throw up, but nothing happened. When I arrived home at 10:30 I collapsed on my bed.

The rest of the morning, afternoon, and evening was absolutely horrendous. My body cleared itself out every 30 minutes and every ten minutes I had huge waves of nausea, but of course I didn’t throw up. I spent the entire day sitting by my toilet, praying that God would let me throw up. I knew it would help me feel better, but my body would not let me. Around 6:00 I was positive I was going to throw up. You know that fun moment before you throw up when your stomach flips over and it feels like someone is wringing it out? Yeah I started to have that feeling…only I didn’t throw up…and the feeling didn’t end. I had such an intense pain in my stomach and I didn’t know what to do about it. Pretty soon my arms and legs started to go completely numb. All I could feel was my stomach wrenching in pain. I laid on my bed for 40 minutes crying in pain while Gayle was rubbing my back for support (she is a great mom-fill-in).  Eventually the pain subsided and I was able to sleep for an hour. The minute I woke up the pain started up again, and this time I actually did throw up. I was so thankful to finally have whatever it was out of my body!

I decided a good night’s sleep, again, was all I needed to completely recover. To my dismay, I did not get much sleep. I woke up every 30 minutes or more to have my body cleared out. From midnight-one I woke up 5 times to use the bathroom. By morning I was more exhausted than I was the night before. I spent all day resting and relaxing, making sure I was 100% better. You can about imagine how amazing I looked at this point. Gayle’s friend Paul arrived in La Union that night; he is visiting here until Sunday. I met him and talked with him and Gayle while they ate their dinner. After dinner Gayle and Paul were looking at pictures on the fridge; most of these pictures are of Gayle and I. Paul looked at one of the pictures, pointed at me, and said, “Who is this girl?” Haha...I definitely looked unrecognizably horrible!

I was happy though; I was starting to feel more like myself. When I woke up Saturday morning, I was positive I was all better. I felt like my strength was back, my appetite was back, and there was color in my face. It was a new day! I felt so great that I decided I was able to go on a hike with the girls and Paul. We took a beautiful hike to St. Augustine. It felt amazing to get some fresh air and exercise, although we had a very close call with a herd of cows (a blog post later to come). When I got home I felt good, but tired. I rested in bed that afternoon and evening. After dinner Saturday night I was starting to feel sick again. I waved it off and blamed it on my tiredness. I decided to take an early night and was in bed by 8:00. At 9:00 I woke up with an all too familiar wave of nausea washing over me. I rushed to the toilet ready to throw up…but of course nothing came. My stomach started having those same intense pains as before. I decided it was time to call for some help. I called Gayle, who was at the girls’ house, and told her I needed a doctor a.s.a.p.  Gayle came home right away and held my hand while I was screaming out in pain. She told me she was trying to get someone to come help me, but it was already 10:00 on a Saturday night, everyone was already in bed. This is Honduras, not the United States. You can’t just drive up to the E.R. and get treated by a doctor. There are only clinics in the town that are open from 8-5…not at 10:00PM. I didn’t know what I was going to do if I didn’t have help. The pain wasn’t subsiding; instead it was growing more intense. Thankfully, someone got a hold of Pastor Wilson who lives only up the road from me. He came down to my house right away and started calling the doctors in town. He found a doctor that would see me, and they agreed to pick me up in their truck and bring me to the doctor’s house. Gayle helped me get dressed; I was too weak and dizzy to even sit up. The doctor’s husband brought me to his house, which turned into the E.R.

The doctor had my lay down on their living room couch while they got the pain medication ready. At this point my entire body was numb; the pains were growing so intense, it felt like something was eating out my stomach.  I tried so hard to stay calm and take deep breaths, but all I could do was scream and cry out in pain. I could hear Jake, Pastor Wilson, and Gayle all saying prayers for me. The doctor was going to put an IV in me that would help subdue the pain. They tried for what felt like 30 minutes to poke and prod a needle into my veins, but it wasn’t working. As I found out my veins are extremely small! The doctor sent her husband on the search for a smaller needle. Gayle was such a great help rubbing my arms, praying over me, and helping me keep my mind off the pain. At one point she told me, “Keep your mind off of it, think of something else Erin. Think of Jaida and Connor!” I instantly burst into tears, bawling! I missed them so much my heart hurt; it was not good to think about them! I could hear Gayle thinking ‘I should not have said that.’ Haha, later Gayle and I laughed about this.  But honestly, I would not have stayed even remotely calm if it wasn’t for Gayle; she was my little guardian angel.

Finally the teeny tiny needle showed up. It still took them 10 minutes to inject it into my veins…I’m telling you my veins are almost non-existent! The instant the medicine entered my body the intense pains started going away. Jake and Pastor Wilson took turns holding up the bag of medicine; no IV poles in this E.R.! After 30 minutes the medicine was filled into my system, and I no longer needed to scream out in pain. The husband took me back to my house while the 12:00 bells were ringing. I headed straight to bed, I was exhausted.

Well, I got a great 2 hours of sleep in when I woke up from intense waves of nausea. The doctor had told me I will feel so much better if I would just throw up…so I tried. And tried. And TRIED. I tried to throw up from 2:00AM until 6:00AM, not sleeping an ounce in between those 4 horrid hours. All I wanted to do was throw up, is that so much to ask for?? Who knew I would be begging God asking him to let me throw up, it’s a pretty odd request. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Gayle was up at 5:30AM starting to get ready for our school’s fiesta tipica. Yes…I was missing our school’s fiesta tipica; an event I had been looking forward to since January. I walked into Gayle’s room, knowing she couldn’t do anything to help me feel better, but I was at a loss of what to do. I told her I had been up since two clearing out my body every 30 minutes, but of course not able to throw up. She said I needed to try and sleep and try to get whatever it was out of my system. I tried to sleep, but I was just too sick..I was starting to feel delirious. I just wanted to feel better!!

At 9:00 Gayle walked in my room telling me news that would change the day’s perspective: Jake was taking me to the clinic. I quickly got dressed and hopped on the back of the motorcycle. Ok hopped is the wrong word…I mustered all my strength to climb on the back of that thing and to hold on for dear life all the way up to the clinic. The Abundant Life clinic is right next to our school; so on the way we drove passed all the fiesta tipica events. But no stopping there, we drove right up to the clinic. The doctor took me into an examination room and told me immediately what my problem was: I had an amoeba. Basically, I had a bug or bacteria in my system that I could have contracted from dirty food or dirty water. It’s a common sickness people get in a third world country. They wanted to get my hydrated, which meant another IV with a drip, which meant more needles. I told them they needed the smallest needle they had, because my veins were extremely small. They smiled and said “Ok, ok.” They poked and prodded in four different places until they finally found a vein that took the needle. They kept laughing and saying over and over, “You have the smallest veins. They are so little!” I smiled and kept thinking, ‘Yes I know I can feel the consequences!’

I laid there while the drip was entering my body; it was hydrating me and making me feel more energized. Jake sat in the hospital room with me entertaining me with stories of all the times he was sick with amoeba. A few times he left to go check out the fiesta. While lying in bed I could hear my students performing their dance to the song Punta. I was so happy to be getting medicated, but I was so sad I was missing out on the fiesta tipica. I was wrong… a monster spider did not eat me up and keep me away from fiesta tipica, but a giant parasite eating my stomach did.

When the drip had finished Jake talked to the doctor about the pills I needed to take and then I could leave! Oooh but only one thing left..I needed a shot. Just didn’t have my fill of needles for the day, I needed one last big jab. At least this time they didn’t need to find a vein to stick it in. They turned me over on my stomach, and to my surprise pulled back my pants and put the needle right in the buttocks. Hopefully that was my last jolt of pain for a long while.

Jake took me back in my house where I collapsed in my bed and FINALLY slept peacefully for a few hours. Thankfully, I have been feeling a little bit better. I have been able to eat a few safe foods without upsetting my stomach too much. I hope the bug gets out of my system very soon. I called my mom to let her know I was ok and alive; she told me the congregation had prayed for me that morning in church. I could not be more abundantly blessed with prayer warriors in my life, thank-you so so much. There’s a reason God placed so many great people in my life; Gayle, my family, my church, Jake, Pastor Wilson, my neighbors. I could not be more thankful for such caring and helpful people.

Today is our last day of school for the week, we have vacation until Monday! I am still undecided to whether or not I will be traveling to El Salvador with the rest of the teachers. I can’t make up my mind if I want to be a little bit sick here in La Union all by lonesome or a little bit sick lying on a beach. Which is the greater evil? 

Spider Monster

Last weekend was extremely uneventful. To most people, an uneventful weekend can be quite disappointing, but I welcomed it with wide open arms. This next weekend the craziness begins of busy weekends, visitors, vacations, and traveling until the middle of April. I was grateful to have one last weekend where I had absolutely nothing to do; and that is exactly what I did!

I only had one “highlight” of my weekend. On Sunday morning I was home alone looking through some papers/books on the desk in my bedroom. I turned over my last book on my shelf and there sitting on the cover, was an extremely huge SPIDER. I instantly jumped back and screamed bloody murder!!! It looked like one of those huge rubber spiders you put on your teachers desk on April fool’s day; only it wasn’t April fool’s day, and it definitely wasn’t made of rubber. I gave myself a little pep talk, pumping myself up to kill this huge spider on my desk. Usually I’m not such a girl about killing spiders or other bugs here, but this spider was massive. I grabbed my sturdiest shoe and began to think of how I was going to kill it. The book was angled in a strange way, so I didn’t think I would be able to kill it with one swing of my bright pink Nike. But, I might as well try, right??

While screaming, I took a huge swing…and MISSED. The spider crawled rapidly fast along my desk and onto my wall. It hid right behind my flashlight. I was in utter amazement (and possibly fear) at how speedy this spider was! This was going to be harder than I thought. I mustered up some courage to move my flashlight and swing at the spider. I quickly moved my flashlight out of the way and started to take a, hopefully, fatal swing. While swinging (and still screaming) I watched in horror as the spider JUMPED from where it was on one wall, to ANOTHER wall a FOOT AWAY!!!!!! But I didn’t really have time to process that it just JUMPED A FOOT because it was crawling rapidly fast and high up my wall. I took one last scream-filled swing and killed the giant spider.

I just stood there and stared at the dead spider with my mouth hanging open. A spider just jumped…a FOOT!!! I know I have heard of spiders jumping, but never EVER did I think I would witness it!! I just kept thinking, what if it decided to jump on ME?? I was definitely LESS than a foot away from it! The worst thing I kept thinking was what if it jumps on me in the middle of the night while I’m sleeping?!!! I force that thought out of my head every time I crawl into bed.  

This week has been equally uneventful, even though yesterday was Valentine’s Day. The school banned all candy since the children have really bad issues with rotten teeth, so ……Valentine’s Day just wasn’t the same this year! Apparently the students don’t even celebrate it in their classrooms, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. My students made valentines for their parents, shared home-made valentines with each other, and had Valentine’s Day word searches. I also made my own version of whoopie pies for all my kids—they loved them!

This coming weekend our school is having their Fiesta Tipica celebration. Everyone dresses up in typical Honduran wear, students perform dances/songs, and parents sell typical Honduran food! A lady is actually making my personal Honduran traditional dress!! I’m pretty excited. I just pray no spiders eat me in my sleep before I can wear it! 

Whirlwind Weekend

The weekend Gayle and I came back to Honduras from Christmas break, we made sure to stock up on groceries in Santa Barbara. We knew the next solid 4 weeks were going to be spent in La Union. Those 4 weeks were great to get back into a daily routine and catch up on lesson planning and school work. The difficulty of these past 4 weeks has been the limitation on food. Well, that sounds kind of dramatic. We DO get groceries here in La Union, you just never know what you’re going to find. There are only so many dishes you can make with eggs, and only so many different ways to cook carrots and green peppers. After two weeks Gayle and I were completely out of groceries. The last two weeks we have been eating lots of soups and fried eggs on stale bread. J I can see your mouth watering! Thankfully it is mango season, so we’ve been having our daily fill of fresh fruit.

Gayle and I decided this past weekend was extremely necessary to go grocery shopping. We needed food other than eggs and vegetables in our lives! Plus I was practically dreaming of being reunited with peanut butter. After we made our necessary decision, we found out some bummer news. There were scheduled parent-teacher conferences on Saturday. NOOOOOOOOOOOO.

The reason we were so bummed, is because the only way to get from La Union to Gracias (where we needed to go shopping) was to take the 5AM bus. We usually like to go on the Saturday 5AM bus so that we have all day Saturday in Gracias, we stay overnight, and then take the 12:40PM bus back to La Union on Sunday. With parent teacher conferences being held on Saturday, there was no way Gracias was happening that day. Which meant in order to get groceries, we would have to take the 5AM bus to Gracias, arrive at 8:30, grab breakfast, go grocery shopping, and hop back on the bus back to La Union at 12:40. Six hours of traveling in one day for four hours of grocery shopping. It definitely didn’t sound ideal, but once again it was necessary. We accepted our plan and decided to make the best of our so-called “weekend”.

Saturday morning began early with conferences starting at 7:30AM. Jake helped translate for me until 9:30, and then he had to help translate for the secondary classes. While he was gone, I had 4 parents come in and I held a conference with them..in Spanish! It was definitely interesting. I could say a few things to each parent about their student, but there always came a point in the conversation where I just had to smile, apologize, and say I didn’t understand.

The rest of the Saturday Gayle and I relaxed, preparing ourselves for our busy Sunday. We were in bed by 8:30 setting our alarms and dreading the next day. I was surprisingly wide awake when my alarm went off at 4:50AM. I got up to make some eggs and toast (not a good idea to ride the bus on an empty stomach). As I was just finishing up, I heard buses start to drive past our window. I opened the door and realized BOTH of the buses going to Gracias that day were driving past our house. We needed to catch those buses!! I shouted at Gayle to quickly grab her backpack—we were going to make a run for it! We took our eggs on toast to go and started sprinting down the pitch-black streets. It is a miracle none of us tripped and broke a bone. We sprinted for about a quarter of a mile before deciding we officially have missed the Gracias buses. What now?!? We got up this early for nothing?? WE NEEDED GROCERIES!!

Thankfully 5 minutes later we heard another bus rumbling by. It came into our view; it was just our luck, another Gracias bus! As I stepped onto the bus, I instantly felt carsick. The bus REAKED of diesel gasoline, I bounced off my seat every time we went over a small bump, and I felt extremely claustrophobic. I couldn’t believe the amount of people we packed into that bus; I couldn’t move a muscle in my body. The smell of diesel was so strong I tried smelling my hair, my clothes, anything to disguise the smell, but nothing worked. Just at the point where I thought I was going to lean out the window to throw up, our bus broke down. We sat on the side of the road for a good 30 minutes trying to fix the wheel of the bus.

FINALLY we arrived to Lepiera, where they ushered us off the bus and pointed us towards a bigger bus that would take us to Gracias. I looked at the bus we were supposed to get into and laughed. There was no way we were going to fit on that bus! There were 4 people in every seat and people standing in every inch of the isle. But what were we supposed to do? We needed to get to Gracias. Gayle and I went to the back of the bus to try and squeeze in. Somehow Gayle shoved her body in the mass of people. I was hanging off the back of the bus, trying to get in, when the bus started moving!! Gayle quickly wrapped her arm around my neck and literally SHOVED me into the bus on top of people. We were both standing on people’s feet, legs, and even arms. I could not believe the amount of people in that bus!! Thankfully, some kind men gave up their seats so we could have a place to sit.

We FINALLY made it to Gracias at 9:20..only an hour later than planned. We ate a delicious breakfast at Guancastos (it’s so peaceful there), and started our grocery hunt. It wasn’t long before our backpacks were loaded with every kind of bean you can think of: black, white, green, red, lentils, and garbanzos. We also found peanut butter, non-stale wheat bread, wheat pasta, granola, honey, sweet potatoes, and even RASPBERRIES AND STRAWBERRIES! We could not have been more stoked with our purchases. While standing outside a grocery store I ran into a bunch of Americans. We obviously start a conversation since it’s close to never seeing other Americans you don’t already know. They were with a mission group from Michigan, planning on working in the hospital for 2 weeks. It was nice to have a conversation with a “new” group of people. They asked what mission group I was with, and I explained that I live in Honduras and I teach at a school. I also explained I lived in a town 3 hours up into the mountains from Gracias, and that I was only in Gracias for a couple hours to stock up on groceries. They were mind blown that I was traveling a total of 6-7 hours in one day just to get groceries. “How blessed we are,” they kept saying. Sometimes I forget how crazy my life really is. I definitely thought it was a pain to drive 7 hours to get groceries, but what else could I do about it? You gotta do what you gotta do.

By 12:00 we were back at the bus station trying to find a seat on the bus ride back. Now this was a challenge. There happened to be particularly a lot of men on the bus, and it is always hard to tell what kind of man they will be. Most of the men were completely wasted, chugging beer can after beer can. I even saw men chugging liquor. Thankfully the bus attendant (the man who collects all of the money) is the kindest man and is always looking out for us. He picked out people for Gayle and I to sit next to that he knew were going to be safe.

Our bus ride back was just as packed with people, but this time all the people packed into the bus seemed to all be very drunk men. Gayle was lucky enough to have some of the drunken men petting her hair. About 30 minutes outside of Gracias our bus rode past an accident that seemed to have happened only a minute before. It was the worst kind of accident…a motorcycle accident. I saw the man being dragged from the road completely covered in blood. His body was limp, and 6 men were trying to load him in the back of a pick-up on top of bagged coffee. That was going to be his ride to the hospital, on top of coffee bags in the back of an old pick-up. No ambulances, no police, just a pick-up. It was pretty depressing because you could tell the man was not alive. Not so fun to see.

But as usual, the rest of the ride back was insanely beautiful. There is nothing more breath-taking that riding through these mountains. And it somehow never gets old. Gayle and I arrived home later that afternoon and we now have a house full of groceries!! It feels so good to have the house stocked with food. Even though it was not the greatest or most relaxing weekend, it was necessary and worth it.

This past week at school didn’t slow down with craziness. On Wednesday I actually traveled BACK to Gracias.  This time I went with our sports teams, since I coach volleyball. This time I got up at 4:20AM...don’t ask me how I got out of bed. Jake, Mr. Galeas, and I were in charge of all the students, so I needed to be prepared. As soon as we got into Gracias the boys and girls played futball. The girls played first and WON! Then the boys played. I watched the game with all the high school girls from Gracias and La Union, which could not have been a bigger mistake. The instant the game started the girls were literally SCREAMING at the top of their lungs, and they didn’t stop until the game was over. I kept thinking ‘there is no way I was this annoying in high school…there is no way!’ I forgot what it was like to be in high school. I was probably ten times worse when I was their age, so I reminded myself to be patient. :)

After our boys finished (and lost) we drove up to the Gracias school. It was so great to see all the other teachers there and to chat with them!!! Next the boys played basketball (our boys lost), and then it was time for volleyball. It was fun because Gracias is coached by Kiley Schouten. Both teams played really well and La Union ended up winning! It was pretty exciting—my first win as a coach! But to be fair, I had nothing to do with the win, it was all my girls. After the game I went and met all of Kiley’s first graders. They were SO SO adorable!!! I was so happy to meet them, and to be able to see her cute classroom! I was so impressed with all their decorations.

We left the school by 3:30 happy to be on the road home. And then….our bus broke down. For a good 45 minutes. Just when it started working and we entered the last “town” until La Union, our bus drivers stopped, ran out, and went to a restaurant. They left all of us sitting on the bus waiting for them to eat. We didn’t get home until 8:00, and  I didn’t go to bed until 9:00. These last couple days at school have been horrid. I can barely keep my eyes open!

I’m so thankful once again it is the weekend. Gayle and I are planning on relaxing ALLLLLLLL weekend, because starting next weekend we have plans almost every weekend until the middle of April!! Hopefully we get enough rest this weekend to last a long while. :)

Neighborly Love

Hospitality. That is the word that comes to mind whenever I think of my Honduran neighbors. As I’ve told you before we live in the same house as a Honduran family. An older grandma lives there with her daughter Sanovia, and Sanovia’s son. In the middle of the house there is a door that “separates” the two halves of the house. The door does not keep too much separation between us. We can constantly hear their music blaring to Spanish Praise & Worship music, or hear door of the microwave opening, and mostly their rapid conversations all in Spanish. On the other hand, they can hear every time we scream when killing a bug, every laugh shared when telling stories from school, occasional gringo parties, and they SMELL every food item we burn…..I promise it doesn’t happen often!

There’s so many times Gayle and I have been stuck in a pickle not knowing what to do next, when our neighbors have come to our rescue. One time Gayle and I were trying to open a can of garbanzo beans. We only had one little problem…we didn’t have a can opener. Opening our middle door, we asked them if they had a can opener we could borrow. We watched in amazement as Sanovia jammed a knife into the metal can and cut the top off. She. is. WONDERWOMAN. I felt like there should have been an announcer in the background saying, “Do not try this at home.” But of COURSE we had to try it out. Since then Gayle has successfully done it once.

Recently, we have hired them to clean our house. We found out the hard way cleaning is not easy when you live in a third world country—and things get dirty FAST. Our house was looking pretty disgusting and Gayle and I weren’t finding any time to fully clean it. So, we hired the best cleaning ladies in town! Our neighbors are THRILLED to clean. I think the grandma really enjoys looking through all our stuff. J These cleaning ladies go above and beyond. Each week they mop all of the floors in the house, they clean both of our bathrooms, they wash any dirty dishes, take out all of our trash, refold and re-organize our clothes, tidy our desks, and even put up new decorations. Two weeks ago I came home to see they had hung string on my wall tied to nails, which they nicely organized all my jewelry on!! On the chance of sounding extremely lazy, it is so nice to have a clean house without doing any of the work. 

To show all of our appreciation of their help, Gayle and I like to bake little desserts and bring them over to our neighbors. And every single time WE bake something for them, the next day they bring over some different kind of food for us! They are way too kind to us. So far this week I have had pan (delicious homemade bread) and sandia (watermelon).

We assume that our neighbors think we are failures in the kitchen. The grandma has been living in La Union her whole life, since way before they had electricity. It is amazing to see what she can do with food. Gayle and I on the other hand are doing the best job possible being thrown into a town with little to none food resources. The grandma constantly mentions how our stove top always seems to be dirty, and how little time we spend in our kitchen. It’s understandable, since she been cooking food and cleaning her home for 50 years now.

The other night Gayle and I were making breakfast burritos. We had everything covered, except for the tortillas. We decided we’d wing it and try to make homemade ones. They can’t be that difficult, right? Everyone always makes them here, 100’s a day! We quickly confirmed we were clueless in the tortilla-making business. So what do we do when in a pickle? Of course we opened our middle door. The entire family (grandma, Sanovia, Sanovia’s son, and 4 cousins) flooded into our tiny kitchen. The minute Sanovia enters our kitchen and sees the potatoes cooking on the stove she starts stirring the potatoes saying “They’re going to burn! They’re going to burn!” We asked them if they could teach us how to make tortillas for dinner. They could not have been more thrilled. Gayle went outside to the stove with the entire family to learn how. I’m sure it was great entertainment for the family to watch the Americans fail miserably at cooking. Gayle came back with some beautiful looking tortillas; she even made half of them! I was so proud. The grandma told Gayle I would be able to tell whose tortillas were hers and which ones were Gayle’s. J (Hondurans are extremely blunt)

And although she may be extremely blunt, I cannot imagine a more caring and thoughtful person. She has mentioned multiple times that all she does is think about us and what she can do to help us. Whenever we come home from a late Saturday night (11:00PM ..don’t judge) I can see the light shining from their half of the house. The instant we walk into our door her light turns off and she heads to bed. She waits up until we make it home safely! When we come home on the bus from a weekend get-away, she is always standing in her doorway, waiting and watching for that bus to rev up our mountain. The instant she sees us stepping off the bus she waves rapidly, runs into her house, and brings coffee over to us and asks us about our trip. She has a heart of gold.

Our neighbors hospitality and love makes me wonder what would happen if roles were reversed. Whenever I live in the United States, what if I had foreigners move next door? Would I be rushing over there making sure they were feeling at home? Would I constantly be worrying about their comfort, making sure they felt accepted into the community? Would I voluntarily do kind and thoughtful things for them without expecting something in return? If they didn’t speak my language, would I still try and reach out to them?

Before having this past years experience in Honduras, I shamefully don’t believe I would have been as hospitable as my neighbors have been to me. I pray that living in Honduras has changed that. I hope that whenever I move back to the U.S. I can be just as hospitable to all of my neighbors..no matter who they are. After all, that is what Christianity is about, right?