Friday had finally come and gone. I met with the parents of my students and it went very well. Jake translated for me which I was so thankful for! I wish I was able to speak to the parents…all I can do is look at them and give the most encouraging smile possible. I keep telling myself, a smile goes a long ways.
Friday night the girl teachers all came over to Gayle and my house. We wanted to have a feast since we were absolutely starving. Of course cooking here takes 10 times as long as cooking in the United States, so we weren’t eating our homemade salsa and TORTILLAS until 9PM. They were nice and floury tasting.
On Saturday we planned on taking the chicken bus to Santa Barbara to set up bank accounts. As my family and friends know, traveling and I don’t always mix the best. I almost always get car sick, it isn’t rare for me to not be 100% ok. I prayed a lot the night before I would be ok for this upcoming day-trip. We crammed onto the bus at 7AM with 1/3 of La Union (well at least that’s what it felt like). Jake and I shared a 1 person seat for the 2 ½ hour bus ride. I was not jealous of all the people standing in the aisles. The view I am blessed with here is indescribable. While driving through mountain passes, goose bumps cover my arms from God’s amazing creation.
After 2 hours or more of driving on unpaved, rocky roads we finally hit a paved road. AHHHHHHHHHH it felt so good to be on smooth pavement!! We were finally in Santa Barbara. Walking out of the bus I was feeling a bit shaky. A drive like that can make anyone carsick, and I am the farthest from an exception. I thought I would just need a good meal and something cool to drink-that can solve most problems, right? Before I could do that we stopped at the bank to set up bank accounts. I sit down in a designated area and they start looking at my passport and making copies of my visa. They had big discussions about my visa since when I filled in out on the airplane I must have written too softly, it is barely legible. When they made copies of the visa absolutely no writing showed up. Apparently that means they need to call the bank in Tegucigalpa to get permission to open an account, but that bank is only open during the week. Too bad so sad. I don’t think I’m going to try and plan or count on anything ever happening here. Always a maybe. Since the bank account was the only reason we went to Santa Barbara, I had a few hours to do what I wanted before heading back to La Union. We filled our stomachs up with food and lemonade and went out to tour the town.
Gayle and I decided to go to the super market. We walked in with our mouths hanging open, they actually had AISLES in this store! Our pulparias are only one room filled with items on a few shelves. We were quickly disappointed to see they didn’t have much more to offer than our little La Union. I did buy some cereal since La Union only has Corn Flakes, and we got a few more spices. But there was no peanut butter, cheese, yogurt, ….I could go on and on but I won’t. Thanks to my father I’m addicted to cheese and I haven’t had it since the day I left the U.S. My mouth waters just thinking about cheese. Some day…
Gayle and I shopped around for a few other necessities. We found the town park which we decided would be a good resting spot. Santa Barbara was HOT. Coming from Iowa I understand humidity and heat since ours is crazy during summertime, but this heat is different. You can’t escape it, the heat surrounds you. There is no air conditioning you can cool yourself off with. I took my backpack off to Gayle laughing at me since my entire backside was soaked with sweat. Thanks dad for your sweating gene. I couldn’t stop. Sitting, sweating. Sitting, sweating. I started to not feel good at all. I thought if I just ate something again I’ll feel much better. Gayle, Eleanor, Ana and I found a restaurant and got a quick bite to eat. The minute I took my last bite a wall hit me. I felt so dizzy and weak. My head was pounding, and I thought I was going to throw up. I laid my head down on the table for awhile. It was time to head back to the bus station. I started walking and the closer to the bus station the worse I was feeling. When we arrived I looked at the bus and knew I couldn’t get on it. Jake could sense I wasn’t feeling well so he took me to some shade and got me a chair to sit on. I sat there for twenty minutes trying to convince myself I was going to be ok on the bus. The longer I waited the worse I felt. I was so hot and couldn’t cool down. I walked over to some bushes and started gagging but nothing was coming up (sorry, graphic). I was so light headed. I walked over to Jake and he made the call: I was not going back to La Union with the other teachers. Luckily my principal, Mr. Perdomo, was with his family in Santa Barbara. Jake phoned him and they came to pick me up.
The next few hours were a bit of a blur since I was feeling quite ill, but I’ll try to explain as much as possible. While driving to their aunts (?) house Mrs. Perdomo asked me at least 10 times if we needed to stop so I can throw up (Mind you this is all completely in Spanish). Their children (Nimrod and Sara) both go to the bilingual school so they were trying to translate. I got to the aunts house and I was ushered by 8 people into this bedroom. They were all speaking in rapid Spanish but I was too sick to try and respond. I went straight to the bed and laid down. There were people moving tables around the room, trying to set a fan on it, positioning it perfectly so it could blow air on my face. A couple more people were working on the air conditioner. Two ladies were sitting on the bed with me feeling my legs and forehead asking questions I couldn’t even begin to answer. Another person was in the bathroom getting a wet cloth to put on my forehead. There could have been more people in the room just watching me, I’m not quite sure. I fell asleep while they were all in the room. When I woke up I was alone and still so hot. I tried sitting up but felt too dizzy. I laid in bed for a couple more hours.
When I started to feel better all of the Perdomos and relatives swarmed into my bedroom. They all were deeply concerned for me and were happy to see I was ok. I tried speaking a bit with their relatives and the Perdomo kids translated for me. They offered my baliadas (of course) to eat for dinner. I felt rude turning them down so I said I would have just one. Mr. Perdomo looked at me as if I was crazy and told his sister-in-law to make me three. My eyes about popped out of my head and I told her solo una por favor!! She made me two. I really didn’t feel well but didn’t want to be rude so I ate both. The Perdomos then took me to their other relatives’ house where I was introduced to another bunch of people who don’t speak English. They all spoke to me in Spanish and when I didn’t know how to respond they just stared at me and smiled. Language barriers are the worst. I hung out with the kids for most of the night. They showed me the town park, I watched them play futbol, and I even had a race with one of the boys (yes I won). The Perdomos stayed the night at this other relatives’ house, while they put me in a truck with all the people who know absolutely no English. I rode to the house I slept my sickness off in, trying to have a conversation with a boy around my age. We both ended up hysterically laughing because we are two adults not able to even put a full sentence together in each other’s language. Well at least that’s why I was laughing.
I stayed overnight at this place in the air conditioned room. Mr. Perdomo told me we would be leaving at 9AM the next morning. I don’t know why I thought he actually would be there for me at 9AM. I didn’t leave my bedroom until 10 the next morning. The aunt gave me lucky charms with sugar on top for breakfast. Lucky charms obviously doesn’t contain enough sugar already, it’s the blandest tasting cereal out there.
The house I slept at was a Machismo household. Machismo is when the women do all of the work inside of the household. It is there job to cook, clean, do laundry, take care of the children etc. That is the sole purpose of the women. The men and boys are held at a pedestal. They have the final word in all decisions, they superior to all women. It was apparent in this house. The aunt and her daughter in law were slaving away in the kitchen, doing the laundry and cleaning, while the men were sitting in the living room not having much to do. Whenever the 2 year old boy was misbehaving the men would call over for the women to take care of the naughty child—they didn’t deal with it. The aunt’s husband also arrived at 11:00 that morning, completely wasted. He was obviously just arriving home from the night before, he could barely even walk. The aunt kept on with her day as if nothing even happened. The aunts grandson just explained to me (in Spanish) that his grandpa just liked to drink beer. Such a different culture.
Finally at noon the Perdomos picked me up and brought me to the house they were staying at. They fed me some lunch, and then we were on our way out. The entire family (probably 20 people) got up to say goodbye to me giving me hugs and kisses. Even though I couldn't speak to many of them, I felt blessed to have met them. I hopped in the back of the truck with Nimrod saying “Yay! Time to go to La Union!” He looked at me and said, “No, we’re going to our farm now.” ………………………………………………. And that’s what I felt about the situation.
All I can say about the drive to the farm is that I can’t believe the truck made it up the mountain or three we climbed, and I will never forget the amazing things I saw. If I haven’t said it enough, IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL HERE!! So we finally get to the farm. They fed me all kinds of food there which I didn’t really want to eat, but also didn’t want to be rude. They were interesting foods! I finally said no to the milk they milked from the cow in the front lawn that was ten feet away from me. (Although side note: a few days ago I did drink milk straight from the cow and it was pretty good!)
Finally after a few hours at the farm we were on our way to La Union. Home never felt so good. I hadn’t showered in over 24 hours. I was still wearing my clothes from the previous day that I had filled with sweat multiple times, and from the car ride I was completely covered head-to-toe in dirt. The shower was amazing. I got ready for the first day of school which was the next day.
I don’t think I’m in any condition to write in detail about my first day of school yet. For a taste of how it went: today is the second day of school and I explained for 20 minutes what the word "say" means. They still don't understand it. Tomorrow I'm going to try the word "repeat". Please pray for my first week at this school. Not only for high tolerance on my behalf, but also patience for my students. It is hard to keep your students under control without hurting their feelings when you can’t speak the same language. Thank-you for all your support, I can feel it every single day!