Am I Equipped for This?

I mentioned in my last email that I went on a “retreat” with my office on Tuesday and Wednesday. We had a hellish meeting on Monday and Abran mentioned that, if some people didn’t show up, that I might be able to go.

Note on hellish meetings in Honduras: They’re everywhere! Each month we have an office meeting where everyone goes over what they did last month and what they will do the current month. Now, not to be a snobbish American or anything, but this issue baffled my mind. So, in our office there are various projects going at the same time. There’s the team working with agro-negocios (agricultural businesses), the people working with small-scale farmers and then also a small team that works with Heifer Project International. There was a complaint that the tecnicos (working with the small scale farmers) didn’t attend a meeting with the business people. Well, in all fairness, the tecnicos weren’t told that this meeting was taking place. Anyways, the conclusion to this problem was that there should be communication amongst the projects … As in, before there wasn’t communication between the projects. I mean, it’s just kind of funny, because it was a significant revelation for them and I’m just sitting there thinking, “I can’t believe this didn’t occur to you before…”

So, I show up to the office on Tuesday morning and it turns out that a few people weren’t able to go and therefore I was invited along. I was kind of unsure about going. The Monday meeting was all-day Spanish and having another 2 days full of Spanish was sure to render me incapable of any languages by Thursday. Hearing or speaking that much Spanish is EXHAUSTING and has a serious affect on my mental capabilities in general. Also, like it or not I don’t have that much to talk to these people about. I’m not the best small conversationalist and when it’s hard to find common ground it really makes things even worse for me. I didn’t know what I was going to do, really. But, it wasn’t something I could turn down and I would have been lame for not going because I was concerned about it being awkward. I mean, if I wanted to avoid awkwardness in Honduras I could simply never leave my house.

We got a chartered busito (smaller than a bus) all the way to Gracias, Lempira. In all I think it took us 4 hours to get there. I love Honduras. So we end up leaving the office at 8:30 and we stop in Santa Rosa for merienda. There people don’t go more than 2 hours without eating. So we stop and have our coffee and tajadas and continue on our merry way to the finca.

There’s a network of fincas (farms) in Honduras called fincas humanas (I’m not translating that for you guys). So these fincas are all about innovative, organic farming, but also focusing on the social aspect of a farm. They do a lot with the family and encouraging the participation of women in the family, etc. We actually visited the most advanced one in Siguatepeque during Reconnect and it was really interesting. This guy had a lot more going on, but the guy in Gracias has some good ideas too. Actually, he might have been better because he was closer to where our productores are, which I think was more encouraging for them.

We immediately got to work when we got there. We started by hearing about how he started his farm, etc. Honestly, I could barely understand the man, but I know that he only finished first grade before he started working. He couldn’t read or write, but over the years through working and saving was finally able to buy his own land. In that time, he also taught himself to read and write; it was really quite an inspirational story. Over time he could slowly expand his property and through training and such he became involved in the Finca Humana and now has a small training center.

I think the most interesting thing, for me, was spending that much time with the productores and their families. Only one wife accompanied her husband, even though it was suggested that couples come if at all possible. All the other men brought their children, which I thought was interesting. A couple brought their sons who are their right-hand-boys, but a couple brought their daughters, which I guess almost counts as their wives.

Throughout the 24 hours or so that we were in the training center both Don Moises (the owner) and our tecnicos kept talking about the importance of the involvement of the women. Now, this commendable and I’m not complaining about that fact, but they were talking out of both sides of their mouths. Social change like the emancipation of women didn’t happen overnight, especially without anyone really making much of an effort or expecting immediate change.

For instance, these families are committed to making such changes. The projects don’t just involve what’s going on in their fields, but also in their houses. The idea is that these families advance in all manners. Great. Awesome. Wonderful. BUT, there are still clear boundaries between the territory of men and women in this country. One of the activities was learning how to “injertar.” They got little branches of grown lemon and orange trees and then cut them so that they could be inserted into an 8 month old tree of lemon. That way, when the tree gets bigger it’s actually growing oranges even though it may be a lemon tree. I know that wasn’t articulate, but I can’t remember what you would call that in English and I don’t have internet right now.

Anyways, so all the women had to do this too, which was great. But, fact of the matter is, when they go home to their houses the women won’t be doing this sort of work. ODECO and finca humana showcases might encourage the women to get out and participate in the finca, but they’re needed more in the home and therefore they won’t ever really do it. Now, I know the thought is important as well, but I think if these people are really serious about involving women then they have to give the women a reason to be involved.

I honestly think the one wife that did end up coming was A) forced to B) just wanted to get out of the house. There wasn’t anything all that interesting there for her. If someone wants me to leave my children, my housework and my chickens (women care for the chickens in this country) there better be a damn good reason for it. What’s in it for me? And in this finca there really wasn’t anything for these women. Why not, while the men are learning about fertilizers and they like, women get a different informational session on fogones (stoves). Every women has a fogon and most of them suck because they were never constructed properly. Show them a sample of a good fogon or the importance of having proper ventilation. Let them share bread recipes or give them more sanitation orientated information because they are the primary caregivers in their household. Educate them about fincas and the importance of THEIR work in the farm. Give them something interesting to participate in when they aren’t interested in what the men are doing.

That was my rant. I thought they were a little hypocritical, but at least they’re beginning to get there. Oh, one more thing! There is NO chivalry in Honduras!! You’ll see a couple riding around on a motorcycle and the guy will have the helmet on! I mean, if Chris did that to me I would be seriously offended. That’s just me.

So there were three rooms we slept in that night. The men were in one room and the women were in another. The doors to the rooms were locked and when Don Moises opened the first room (where the women were to sleep) nervous squeals erupted from the crowd around the door. I didn’t think much of it, but then this contest for beds started and I got curious as to the accommodations and wandered over there… BUNK BEDS! Now for me, bunk beds bring flashbacks of being a kid and fighting over the top bunk at sleepovers, rented houses and the like. I thought it was hilarious and economical, but the Hondurans were really nervous. I mean, I guess the majority of these families don’t have bunk beds (although, for the number of children they have and the space that’s available to them it would really make more sense). A lot of the kids ended up grabbing the top bunks. I think some were forced and only the more brave ones actually elected them.

Well, we’re getting ready to go to bed and I was exhausted. A couple of the younger girls decide to share and proceeded to spend like 45 minutes shuffling the mattress around so that it wasn’t close to the edge. They were climbing around up there and would occasionally squeal with fear about falling over. After what seemed like forever everyone got settled down and I was hoping I would be able to sleep. We were forced to keep the light on because the girls were afraid of sleeping away from home and didn’t want the light to be off. Now, I was on the top bunk (everyone thought I was so brave and were amazed I didn’t take the bottom bunk under me that was open) and I’m trying to forget the light was on (it’s been years since I’ve had to sleep all night with the light on) and the girl, Blanca, sharing with another girl decides she can’t sleep on the outside up top and then we start musical beds all over again.
It was really cold that night and I had a hard time sleeping between that and the light being on. I remember I rolled over at one point during the night and looked over at one of the girls and she was staring at me. SO CREEPY! I pretended I didn’t notice and then had to coach myself that she wasn’t a zombie before I fell back asleep again.

Anyways, we woke up in the morning and instead of asking the usual, “Como almanecio? “How did you wake (up)?” but “Did you/anyone fall of the top bed last night?”

Apparently people thought someone fell in the girls’ room last night, but they were probably just deceived by all the giggling and musical-bed-playing that the girls were doing. During the whole choosing-of-the-beds it ended up that Armando, one of the ODECO tecnicos was above one of the skinnier, smaller guys in the group. Not only is Armando a heavier guy, but he’s also taller than most Honduran men (probably 5’9”). The entire day Denis, one of the productores, was worrying about the bed breaking during the night. Well…

Around midnight Armando decided he couldn’t sleep was going to take a walk around the farm for a little bit. He gets up and starts climbing down the bunk and Denis sits up and screams “SANTA MARIA!” and jumps out of bed. This probably doesn’t translate well on the internet, but they had me hysterically laughing each time they told the story (which ended up being 100 times by the end of the day!). SANTA MARIA! He thought the bed was collapsing and sprung out of bed as fast as he could. If you had seen how preoccupied these people were about these beds maybe it would be a little funnier for you, but I still can’t help but laugh.

Did I learn a lot at this finca? Yes. Is it really anything that I can take and apply to my work in Peace Corps? Yes, because while it may not pertain to Wat/San, it will help me relate to the people and understand better what they are trying to implement in their fincas. In hindsight I should have asked where water and sanitation entered into their finca to see if he had any new insights, but there wasn’t really a place that that would have been pertinent.

I think what was more poignant about that trip was the experience I had with the people. By the end of the second day the girls were hanging onto me and asking me more questions. I had opened up more too and felt more comfortable making small talk. But also, it’s recognizing the fundamental differences between my life experience and their life experience that really struck me. The fact that bunk beds could stir people like that and make them that emotional and excited is something so small, but so striking. I’m sure they’ve seen bunk beds on T.V. or in the stores, but most had probably never actually slept in one. Their lives are so isolated and I think a lot of the time I don’t realize how isolated they are or rather, how immensely different their experiences are from mine.


It’s hard to express the experience … well here’s how I can try explain it:
Often times when you talk to people in Honduras they will ask you a question like so, “Is it true in the United States that…” Insert in that space anything you want and I have probably been asked that question. Now they’ve seen movies from the U.S. and have family members that tell them things about the States (still usually wrong) and they form judgments and assumptions about life there accordingly.

Before I came to Honduras with the Peace Corps I didn’t have any exposure to the country or the culture. I knew absolutely nothing about Honduras. When I got my assignment the first thing I did was hop on Wikipedia and got the general information about the country. But Wikipedia isn’t able to tell you: “The people you might have contact with won’t be comfortable with spending a night away from home because they never have before.” Or whatever. The thing is, there are so many days (every day) that I’m not prepared for what I experience. Do I know we live totally different lives? Yes. But, at the same time, that doesn’t mean that the differences aren’t incredibly striking when you experience them.

Speaking of the “Is it true in the United States that…” The other night I went to my English classes only to discover that the lights weren’t working in the classroom. We just stood outside for a little bit, which opened me up to the usual barrage of questions and one in particular really surprised me…


“Hannah, is it true in the United States that, when a woman is lonely, she can buy a part of a man…?”

Hannah stands there, running through all the various interpretations this question could have, wishing that she could just disappear “Como/COME AGAIN?”

I actually couldn’t really understand her that well and had to get a couple of repeats of the question before I ventured to think that I understood what she was asking. This made the situation all that more awkward.

“You know when a woman doesn’t have a man and she still has needs … she can buy a penis…”

“To have sexual relations…” finally finishes one of the other students.

At that point I couldn’t really play dumb and had to think for a few seconds how I was going to diplomatically answer this question before these girls thought all women in the U.S. used vibrators/dildos and they’re on the shelves in the grocery store. It’s really hard to explain these matters to giggly teenage girls in broken Spanish. I tried to be diplomatic and politically correct, but in the end I think I only confirmed their existence in the U.S. market. That was one I really wasn’t expecting!

Pretty much every day I think “I AM NOT EQUIPPED FOR THIS!”