Changes !

Ok, so after about a month in Valle de Angeles, each sector splits up and goes to their own Field Based Training (FBT). Health went to La Paz, north of Tegucigalpa, while business and wat/san went South. Sad day. So, since business and wat/san were going the same direction, we were going to be on the same bus, and health had their own bus. Now, when they’re telling us the schedule the day before, they talked about us putting our luggage underneath the bus, which would make one assume that we would have Greyhound type transportation. WRONG!

So, if you remember, we have about a 15 minute walk up to the bus stop, and this did not change when we had to move to a new site with all our worldly possessions. Don’t worry, Theresa’s host dad was nice enough to drive us and our luggage up to the bus stop. Before this, when I was saying good-bye to Suyapa and the kids, Suyapa started crying, and so I started crying. She’s a great woman. We go back to our original host families for a week before we swear-in, which I am looking forward to. Back to the story…

So, we’re standing there, 9 gringos with all their gringo crap, and this yellow school bus pulls up. Now, these chicken buses are common transportation in the campo to move people to Teguz, therefore we waved him on, thinking this can’t be our bus. Well, he opens the door and says “Ojojuna and Pespire!” Yep, those are the FBT sites for business and wat/san. Great. Now, imagine this, 32 Trainees and all their crap piled on a school bus. We had people sitting on top of seats, on top of luggage, and the married couples had to double up. It was fun, until we got farther South, and we were all packed in like sardines when the temperature got to 90 degrees. So, at each stop health people would climb on our bus and we would all say good-bye. Some people even started crying. Apparently, according to other training groups, our group is obnoxiously close like Hondu 12, and we’re Kumbaya 2.

So, as the health group passes us on the highway, we see them, comfortably spaced out around the bus, feet on the seats, as we struggle to fit all the luggage on the bus. Because business was getting off first, they were in the front so we didn’t confuse the luggage. BUSINESS in the front PARTY in the back! We called it the mullet bus. Wat/San is always the BEST!

Peace Corps loves to coddle us, and throw us to the wolves all at the same time. We get to Pespire, a small little town in southern Honduras, and they just let us off. We have directions written by our host family wrote on where to go, but Hondurans wrote them, and they are notoriously bad with directions! We stopped to ask an old man where to go, and he started to tell us the completely wrong direction until a woman shoo-ed him away and helped us.

New host family:

-Nolvia – middle-aged host mom, kindergarten teacher
-Dona Emperatriz – Mother of Nolvia, seems to be the house servant
-Marjory (Negra) – Daughter of Nolvia
-Vanessa – adopted sister of Nolvia (21)
-Darwin – Husband of Jessica (18)
-Dalin – 8 month old baby of Jessica and Darwin

The house here is bigger and much quieter. I have my own room again right next to the kitchen. The house seems very old, and there roof is made of tiles, so when it’s windy, dust and crap falls into the house. While my ceiling may be lacking a bit, I do have a skylight! Ok, so it’s just plastic instead of tile, but I think it’s pretty cool. I live in the main house with Dona Emperatriz, Nolvia and Marjory, while Jessica and Darwin live in a room out back.

Nolvia has never hosted a Peace Corps person before, and that puts a lot of pressure on both of us. I have to make a good impression so she wants to have another Trainee/doesn’t hate Americans. She feels the need to wait on me hand-and-foot, which is also awkward for me. My abuela went into my room today and took all my laundry to wash while I was at school. Embarrassing as hell! Then, when I was in my room this evening, Nolvia helped me fold it! It’s crazy.

I am quite proud of myself that I nipped portion control in the butt immediately. I told Nolvia that I was always fed too much in my other house and that I would appreciate portions similar to what she would give herself. I still get the bigger portions and bigger glasses, but at least I actually get hungry during the day here.

We’ve also made strides in communication. Nolvia has started to speak slower and seems to have patience with me. She’s a kindergarten teacher, so she’s used to correcting people when they say something wrong. Suyapa knew to talk slow, and was really good as understanding gringa Spanish, and Nolvia is figuring it out really quickly.

Side note: I have a furry friend in my room. I’ll be ordinary and name him Gus. Gus the mouse from Pespire, hiding under my suitcase. He desperately wants to get to the kitchen, but there are a lot of people out there.

So, Nolvia and I are doing the awkward host family/Trainee dance. And you thought I was awkward before! This afternoon, while we were eating lunch (we go home for lunch now), I asked what the baby’s parents did for work. Darwin and Jessica. Well, Nolvia thought I was talking about HER daughter, and proceeded to comment that Marjory doesn’t have a dad… @#$)$()*%)#$(#(@(!. Awkward. Sensitive topic in most places, but much more sensitive in conservative Honduras. Crap. I tried to sort myself out, but when you’re feeling like an ass and trying to dig yourself out of a hole in a different language, you just end up creating a worse situation. She didn’t seem to mind, because there was clearly a confusion,

So more on FBT, we basically are here to do more sector specific work. We build latrines, do topographic studies, and generally get to play in the heat. More on that later.

Hope all is well!

Cheque.