Lost in Translation

When you combine a mix of a teacher whose first language is English (who doesn’t speak Spanish) and student’s whose first language is Spanish (who are beginning English-language learners), you are creating a recipe for translation mix-ups. This happens multiple times every day in my classroom.

 In the beginning of the year the frustration of this consumed me. How are my students supposed to know what I want from them if they cannot even follow simple directions?! How can I effectively discipline them if they cannot understand which behavior I do not like?! I could go on and on… and I know my students could too! How are we supposed to learn when our teacher can’t answer our questions? How do I ask for help when I don’t understand? etc…etc…etc…

I not-so-quickly learned to let go of the frustration and find the hilarity in it. You should see the lengths my students and I go to in order to understand each other. The kinds of faces and actions I whip out in my classroom should never be repeated…they are completely embarrassing but necessary! So far this year I have gotten on the floor acting out crawling, used my wooden ruler pretending it was a microphone, and have done the most impeccable replicate of an octopus moving by jet propulsion.

Over the past few weeks I feel as though I haven’t stopped laughing in my classroom. Here are a few of my favorite “lost in translation” stories.

Shrunken Girls

As you may have seen in my pictures, all of our students wear a school uniform. The boys have grey pants, tucked in blue shirt, with a blue tie. The girls have a plaid blue skirt, a tucked-in blue shirt, and a neck tie. Lately, some of my girls have been feeling a bit lazy and haven’t been tucking their shirts in. Last week I decided they couldn’t come into my classroom until all of them had their shirts tucked in. The boys were quite pleased. They were so filled with pride; they started bashing on the girls looks.

“Miss they look very bad with their shirts no tucked in…very bad.”-Carlos

“Yes, they look like those men in the street.”-Wilson

“What men in the street?” –Miss Van Dyke

“You know, the ones who drink a lot of cervezas (beer) and then they cannot walk. They all look borracho (drunk)!! What is that called Miss?” – Wilson

My face turned completely red with embarrassment. At the time I didn’t know what barracho meant, but I could give a pretty good guess! Under my breath I questioned the meaning saying.. “Drunk??” Apparently I did not say it quiet enough because Wilson picks up on it right away saying “Shrunk!! They all are shrunk!!” Then multiple boys pick up the word, they all point at the girls and say, “Miss! They all look shrunken! They all look shrunken!” At this point the girls are getting VERY angry at the boys and they start yelling, “I no look shrunken! I no look shrunken Miss!!” Some of my boys are giving quite good impressions of how drunk men walk, while I’m quickly trying to calculate how to handle this situation. By the time I gain control of my classroom the girls are starting to find the boys “shrunken” impressions pretty hilarious. I sat all of my students down and had a serious talk with them (while holding back a laugh) about how we do NOT talk about drinking in the classroom, and we do NOT call other students drunk. I also had a long talk with them about drinking, what it does to your life, and why they will never become one of those “shrunken men in the streets”. This education was giving them a different life than the majority of the men in La Union. Even though I do think they got something out of our talk, they were still giggling at the end of class from Wilson’s shrunken man act. I have to admit I shared a good laugh over this after the students left for the day.

I should explain something, just so you don’t think I’m a horrible teacher talking about drunken men in my classroom. Drinking is an interesting topic in La Union. Having a glass of wine or a beer with dinner just does not happen here. You either are an alcoholic, or you do not think/talk/touch alcohol for your entire life. Most people go by the rule that if you touch alcohol, you are a sinner and you are going to hell. But for some reason, men on Sundays are exempt from this rule. I’m not kidding, almost every man (unless he is at a church service) drinks heavily on Sundays. I will plan out my Sundays so that I don’t have to walk all over the town; the less drunk men I run into the better. The streets are filled with drunken men falling over, laughing uncontrollably, and saying incomprehensive words. A lot of these men are the fathers of my students, the grandfathers of my students, and even the brothers of my students. These are the examples they have to look up to. To them, seeing a drunken man on the street is hilarious or entertaining, not a sad oddity. So, although it may shock you they are talking about being drunk already in the 3^rd grade, it is part of their culture, their upbringing.

 Jicxon the Brilliant

One of my students, Jicxon, is definitely one of my top students. Whenever I struggle with translating I always call for his help. He has a real gift for language; he can pick up words like no other child in the class. Having a brilliant child in the classroom is more than helpful. The problem is Jicxon also knows he is brilliant, and he isn’t shy to boast about it! Even though I am happy for his help, sometimes it is frustrating when I’m trying to figure out the translation and he pushes me aside and says, “Just let me do it Miss.” It becomes a matter if I am really smarter than this 3^rd grader or not!

One day Jicxon raises his hand, “Miss Van Dyke, I have a great idea! I want to share it with you first. Then can I please say it to the class in Spanish?” Although there are literally a handful of times I let him translate, I was feeling nice that day so I gave the ok. He told me “Can you give us the answers to the questions, and then we can go outside and play a game?! Now in Spanish…” He translated it into Spanish.

What happened next brought a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. All of my students, INCLUDING my lowest students, looked at Jicxon, rolled their eyes and said “Yo se, Jicxon”, which means “I know, Jicxon.” They knew what he said to me the first time around. They understood every piece of English that came out of his mouth!! They didn’t NEED the translation, their English is good enough! Jicxon’s pride was pushed back a few levels, which he could use. Both Jicxon and I were surprised by the improvement of the class, and I could not have been more proud.

Bad Influence

A few weeks ago my students were practicing the dance for fiesta tipica. They were practicing their dance during music and social studies, both classes I do not teach. One day after they had finished practicing I came into the room and decided to ask them about this special dance. I asked them, “What is the name of the dance called?”

“It’s called la punta!” –all the girls shouted at me.

“What? I didn’t understand what you’re saying,” I told them.

“LA PUNTA Miss!” they clearly said. I should have left it at that, but I didn’t. I wanted to make sure I heard the word correctly, so I repeated it back to them. But instead of saying PUNTA, I left out the N. Just in case you aren’t up to speed on your Spanish (like me), I had said a very, very bad word in Spanish. In English this is a 5 letter word that starts with a B. And of course I did not repeat it quietly; I had shouted it back to them. You should have seen their faces!! First there was a 10 second shock of complete HORROR. I thought some of my girls’ eyes were going to pop out of their heads. Some of the girls looked at me in complete disgust; a teacher just openly SWORE in the classroom! Some of the boys started to nervously giggle, unsure of how to really react.

I looked at all of them and asked, “What did I say?? Did I say something bad?? I don’t know what I did! I’m so sorry, what did I say!?”

Once they all realized I had no idea that I had just sworn, they all started BURSTING out with laughter. One of my girls literally fell off her chair, one girl choked on her spit, and another boy tooted they were laughing so hard. Miss Van Dyke swore, and there could not be anything more hilarious. After apologizing a million times and correctly pronouncing the word puNta, my students started to settle down. Once they were sitting down again, my shy little Emerson raised his hand and said to me, “Miss Van Dyke, you are a bad influence!” What could I say, they used their spelling word influence in perfect context and he could not have been more right! My students will still sometimes tell me, “You are a bad influence, for you say bad words Miss!” I will never live this one down.

 

Hey Hell!

It is only ONE MORE WEEK until my parents and Megan arrive in La Union! I am filled with excitement and continuously remind my students how many more days. The other day I brought my students over to group to make sure they would be prepared for their visit. I told them all about my parents, Tom and Helen. I showed them a couple pictures, talked about what they do for a job, etc. I wanted to make sure my students would be able to call them by name when they walked through the door. So, like always when we learn new words I had my children repeat after me. I told them, “When my dad walks through the door you need to say ‘Hello Tom!’” All my students started giggling and said, “Like Tom and Jerry Miss!!” I don’t know where they learned about Tom and Jerry. After they recovered from their giggling fit I said, “Ok when my mom walks through you need to say ‘Hello Helen!’” We practiced saying each of their names a few times.

Once I thought they got it I decided to quiz them, “What are you going to say when my dad walks through the door?”

“Hi Tom! Hi Tommy!” –3^rd grade

“What are you going to say when my mom walks through the door?”—Miss Van Dyke

“Hi Hell!!” –3^rd grade

This time MY eyes were popping out of my head, “No!! No no no no no don’t call my mom Hell!! You never ever call someone hell..hell is infierno.” They first gasped and then bursted out in laughter. They made sure the add the EN after Hel from then on. 

Then I introduced them to Megan. I explained that she is 3 years older than me, she lives in California, and she is ENGAGED! They all got excited when I told them the last bit of information. They had all kinds of questions about her boyfriend. It didn’t take long for the questions to turn to me, “Why you no have a boyfriend Miss? Why you no married yet?” I tried to explain that I didn’t want to have a boyfriend, especially when I live in La Union, but they did not understand. “Why no have boyfriend in La Union?” In these situations you just need to stop answering questions and redirect the conversation.

Needless to say, it IS only a week until part of my family visits me!! I keep walking through the streets thinking I can’t believe in a week they’ll be walking WITH me. I can’t wait to share my life with them.

Hope you enjoyed my few favorite stories from the past few weeks. My students give me so many reasons to smile every day I am here!

Lights Out!

Last August when I first arrived to Honduras, I purchased a fan. This fan was most likely my best investment I have made all year. In the beginning of the school year I was so thankful for this fan because it was smoldering hot; without my fan I felt like I couldn’t breathe! Now that it is a bit cooler, I am still ever so thankful for this little black fan. Every night when I crawl into bed (after checking for bugs of course), I lay there and hear all the dogs barking, church bells ringing, herds of cows running past, roosters crowing, etc. But all these noises are drowned out by one little switch on my fan. It’s almost a guarantee that a good night’s sleep is possible as long as I have my fan…almost.

Monday night I was having a bad night of sleep; I had decided to save all my thoughts for the middle of the night. My sisters upcoming wedding, plans for next year, my parent’s and Megan’s visit to Honduras, all of these things racing through my mind. At least I had my fan to drone out all the noise from outside. Well at 2:00AM that all changed…the power went out. When the power goes out at night two things happen: everything becomes pitch black, and everything becomes eerily silent (minus the dogs and roosters of course). You have got to be kidding me I was thinking. I sighed with relief when 10 minutes later my fan came alive and started circulating air again. But that was short lived; the power went out for good two minutes later.

The rest of the night I spent tossing and turning, willing my ears to shut all the outside noises off. But that was no use. I heard at least 8 different dog fights, probably over 100 different roosters crowing (at all hours mind you..what happened to roosters only crowing when the sun comes up?),  and buses driving past my window at the wee hours of the morning. I never realized how precious my little black fan was until Tuesday morning rolled around and I felt more tired than the night before. Don’t worry about it, it’s only one night, the power will come on this morning, I reassured myself.

There was no electricity for our standard breakfast of eggs on toast, so granola, honey, and peanut butter it was. We ate breakfast with the front door wide open to let some light in; our house doesn’t let much natural light in, and it’s impossible to see without electricity. Gayle and I packed our lunches for the day; chicken noodle soup…the power would be on by noon to heat it up in the school microwave.

When there is no electricity time seems to escape itself; everyone is running behind, and school never seems to start on time. My students get hyped up when the power goes out, it’s something new and exciting. Our school’s bell system is down when the power goes out; Yessi, our school secretary, walks up and down the hallways ringing the old fashioned, hand-held bell to inform us when each class period is over.

By 10:00 I was getting nervous, we still had no power and Gayle and I only brought our chicken soup for lunch. The worst part about not having power is never knowing when it could come on. At any second your classroom lights could flicker the rest of your day can go back to normal. I was waiting for that moment to happen, wishing it would happen before lunch…but it didn’t. I reaallllly didn’t want to have cold chicken soup! Gayle braved it and ate a whole bowl-full; I thought I was going to be sick just watching her choke it down. I opted for delicious packaged cookies. Nothing like having well balanced meal of vanilla chocolate crème cookies for lunch!

The rest of the school day went great, but the power never turned on. It is amazing how much school work you can get done without any power. I had so much grading and planning to do, and I easily got it all done on Tuesday! I had no internet to distract me. In a way it is kind of nice because I don’t need to worry about responding to people’s e-mails, uploading a new blog, researching lesson plans, etc. I have a pretty legitimate excuse for being unresponsive.

After school I slid on my rain boots and prepared myself for the walk home. It had been drizzling all day long; the streets were sloshed in mud, all of my clothes felt damp, and the cool mist seemed to creep its way deep into my body…I was chilled to the bone. After too many close calls of face-planting into the knee-deep mud, we had made it home. All I wanted to do was take a nice hot shower…but that of course was not going to be on my agenda; there was still no power. We discussed what we were going to do for dinner. There was nothing in our house that didn’t need to be cooked. No packaged meals that don’t require heating on the stove. But I was not about to have a bowl of cold chicken soup. We decided to ask our neighbors if we could use their kamal (an outside wood-burning stove) to make some tortillas and heat up our chicken soup.

Gayle forced me to ask the grandma to use it since I need to practice my Spanish. I get so nervous speaking Spanish to the grandma…especially when Gayle is around! First of all, even if I DO know what to say to the grandma, by the time I have the sentence out of my mouth I’m so proud of myself that I just spoke a successful sentence that I’m not prepared to hear what she is saying in response to me. Second of all, the grandma speaks a kind of Spanish I have never even heard before; she slurs and blends all of her words together, making it very difficult for me to pick up more than 3 words every sentence. Gayle even struggled understanding her at the beginning of the year (and that’s saying something). THIRD of all, I hate speaking Spanish in front of Gayle. If you KNEW the kind of expert Gayle is at speaking Spanish…everyone, I mean everyone, is always impressed at how fluent she is. I’m not kidding this girl knows everything! So imagine how ridiculous I sound when I can’t even put a full sentence together, and here standing next to me Gayle can not only say the sentence perfectly, she can put an intelligent spin on it. I get so shy and embarrassed around her. EVEN though she always tells me, “I’m not going to judge you!” I can FEEL her mind working whenever I start speaking in Spanish, her mind correcting every grammatical error. So much pressure!!!! I also think the family finds it humorous whenever I try speaking to them in Spanish; they quizzically look at me and then turn to Gayle and answer MY question.

BUT I successfully asked the grandma to cook over at their house! She brought Gayle and I behind their house to the outside stove. Gayle had previously learned how to make tortillas, but I hadn’t. Sanovia prepared the flour and water and began giving me my lesson.

                1. Make sure your hands are wet

                2. Grab a small amount of dough and roll it into a ball

                3. Start patting the dough into a tortilla shape

                4. With your fingertips on both hands, start pushing out the dough to extend the tortilla WHILE

                    turning the tortilla in a circle (by far the hardest part)

                5. Stick the tortilla on the kamal….and vuala you have a tortilla!

While Sanovia gave me a lesson the grandma, another aunt, and Gayle watched. They told me my tortillas were ok but a little bit disfigured. I’ll take that! The aunt was watching me in absolute disbelief. Finally she asked Gayle, “So… you don’t make homemade tortillas in the United States?” Gayle laughed and said “No, we definitely don’t do that.” She looked confused for a minute and then said, “Then how do you get tortillas? You never eat them?” At this point Sanovia steps in and says, “Oh no, in the United States tortillas come in bags. They are pre-made and then put into bags, and that is how they sell them.” The aunt looked so amazed, she had never heard of such a thing!  While Gayle and I sat there feeling like complete idiots…yes we are insufficient, we don’t even know how to hand-make tortillas!

After the tortillas were successfully made (mostly by Sanovia) and the soup was nice and HOT, we were ready to eat dinner. I was pretty happy the power didn’t stop us from making a great meal! But now if only the power would come back on….especially before bed so we could a) shower, and b) sleep with the fan on. Well that wish didn’t’ come true. I HATE going to bed if there is no light on in my room; it terrifies me to think of all the bugs crawling around that I can’t see. Some people say ‘out of sight out of mind’—that is so not true. Come live in La Union for a week, and then you will definitely KNOW that you need to check your bed before crawling in it. If a tarantula is out of sight, well that is pretty unfortunate when the power goes out; there is a good chance I could put my hand on it, or step on it, and then it would bite me and I would die (yes, that seriously goes through my mind).

I checked as best as I could for bugs with my iPod, but there was only 20% battery left on my iPod and I needed to save that just in case I needed a light in the middle of the night. My computer and my phone were dead, so I couldn’t use those to shine any light. I slept equally horrible on Tuesday night, the dogs and roosters drove me awake once again. By morning I felt like a crazy person; I now had 2 horrible nights of sleep, my iPod was now dead as well, and I hadn’t taken a shower since Sunday evening. BUT there was nothing I could do about it; everyone was in the same situation as me…no need for a pity party!

My students were psyched the power still hadn’t come on. They were supposed to have a science test, but I had to keep postponing it since there was no power to make copies. I told them on Wednesday if there was still no power at the end of the day we wouldn’t have the test on Thursday. Mr. Perdomo had heard that the power wasn’t going to be on until sometime on Thursday. A WHOLE OTHER DAY WITHOUT POWER, I was for sure going to have to shower in the freezing cold!

With only an hour left of the school day, my lights flickered on. THERE WAS POWER!!!!! I was screaming for joy!! My students on the other hand REALLY didn’t want their science test. Fabiola quickly ran over to the lights, shut them off, and said to me, “Miss, there is no power again!” J

I was finally able to charge all of my electronics, check e-mails, and go home and take a nice, steaming hot shower! I never felt so clean. Gayle and I couldn’t have been happier to cook a meal on our own stove. And I finally knew I would get a great night of sleep with my precious fan.

It is just funny to think about how when I was a child and the electricity went off I was SO excited! No power?? This is awesome!! Now I see things a little bit differently. Power is a privilege. We are so blessed in the United States. We never worry about having electricity, we don’t need a wood-burning stove outside for back-up, we wouldn’t even THINK about taking a cold shower. We have everything we need and more! It is amazing what God has given us, the abundance of gifts he’s showered upon us. Living here has made me appreciate everything and made me realize how good I have it in the U.S.

So today, if you have washed your dishes not only in warm water, but in a dishwasher, give thanks to God. If you have made your eggs on the stove, your toast in the toaster, and gotten your milk from the cold refrigerator, give thanks to God. If you have brushed your teeth with water you know you won’t get bacteria from, give thanks to God. If you have made yourself a cup of coffee with a flip of a switch, give thanks to God. He has blessed us with so many things that we should never take for granted. 

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!