It was fun, scary and all a waste of time …

Several stories play into this blog entry and none of them really have anything to do with the title, but my friend said that on the phone and I liked the sentiment.
Nothing all that interesting has been happening as I don’t have reliable work at the moment. Not having reliable work encourages me not to leave my house, which means that the potential for awkward, funny stories is significantly lower.

I am going to relay a story that a friend told me via text message the other day:
Low of the day: Plunging the toilet because of the massive turd my husband left for me today and spraying poop water all over myself and the bathroom.
High of the day: A lot of things, but they were all ruined by that one experience.
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My dog has mange (at least that is the conclusion I have come to), of which I was relating to my friend the other day and she said … “You know people can get mange?” This was right after I had my face buried in my dog’s fur because I was being affectionate considering he doesn’t feel well and is mad at me for spraying purple spray all over him (antibiotic stuff).

“WHAT?! Are you serious?” and instead of going and scrubbing my face and hands, like maybe I should have, I respond, “Dude if I got mange I would officially win the award for getting the weirdest, nastiest disease in Honduras! Forget scabies, forget dengue and all the amoebas … I WIN!”
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One of the days that I actually kind of had work to do I was heading to the office and as I was walking past as house I noticed a whole bunch of people struggling with what looked like a rolled up carpet. I then noticed that there were feet dangling out of said rolled up carpet … It was like the Sopranos, but Honduran campesino style, because Hondurans just lack subtly in general. There was a woman on the phone talking about how they were going to the hospital in Santa Rosa and it was that moment that I noticed the feet were slightly moving as they put the man in the BACK OF THE TRUCK. Instead of calling the ambulance or putting him in the cab of the truck, they put the old man (which I noticed at this time) in the carpet in the back of the truck! I was watching all of this, totally forgetting that in my culture it’s rude to stare. Meanwhile I was passing other staring Hondurans, hoping that someone would validate my emotions of how MESSED UP THIS WAS! Didn’t happen. I wanted to cry or even laugh because of how absurd the situation was. The truck took off and I immediately called everyone I knew to tell them the story. Some people did laugh and others were like, “Wow that’s really sad …”
After that encounter I went to the office to pick up my sitemate, whom I had convinced to come up into the campo with me because I needed to take more GPS points for the study I’m doing. Well, my sitemate doesn’t really spend much time in the campo and after stumbling through the first coffee finca (plantation) I told her she could wait on the “road” for me while I went and found the stakes that I needed to figure out where I was, which was interesting because most of them had disappeared. I got my silly self lost while wandering around muttering to myself about why people would remove stakes in the ground that had numbers on them!

Well, I was gone for a while and when I came back she wasn’t where I had left her. Immediately I start thinking that somebody had grabbed her and carried her away. Great. How do I explain that one? Well, thanks for technology, I could just call her and she informed me that she had kind of fallen asleep in a clearing. She woke up when a group of coffee pickers walked by, naturally staring at her, because she’s obviously a foreigner sleeping in the middle of nowhere! Who does that?? She scares me sometimes.
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It’s been getting really hot here recently. We’re leaving the period of rain and cool weather for one of scorching summer heat and I’m not handling it very well. I’m trying to get myself used to the idea that I will permanently have pit stains and just be generally grumping because if the heat. Increased sweating means increased laundry, which wouldn’t be so bad if I owned more acceptable clothing. Therefore, I decided to brave the “department store” again in search of another bra, because yet another has fallen victim to thrashing puppy teeth. I walk into the first floor and there, in all its glory, is a massive pool display! It can’t be! Yes, yes it’s no mirage … kiddy pools are 50% off!

I yelled, “CASEY! COME HERE NOW!” and walked over to the display, grabbed the box, and started bouncing up and down like a little kid with a big grin on my face. WHEEEEE!
What is more perfect for these hot days than a kiddy pool?! I just stood there and stared in awe of my luck for several moments. The Hondurans in the store must have thought I was crazy. What 20-something gringa has ever entered their store and gotten that excited about a kiddy pool? I think I even squealed a couple of times.
When I got back to Kathryn’s apartment I think my look said everything; she goes, “What did you get??” I make a big deal of the reveal, whip off the bag and expose my new pool!

“KIDDY POOL!” I squeal.

“OH MAN! We’re going back to your site tomorrow and we’re going to fill it up and drink beers for our one year in country anniversary! So amazing!”
Next morning we wake up and it’s cloudy. Then a Honduran tells us that another cold front is coming through. Kathryn, in her disappoint, “Dammit! Leave it to Honduras to ruin the kiddy pool for us! Cold front! I knew it! I knew that we wouldn’t get to swim in it this week!”

Well a few hours later we’re pulling into Corquin and it’s kind of raining and getting quite cold. We walk into my house and I immediately whip out the pool and sit down in it in my house (pictures will be posted). Kathryn is taking pictures and she stops, “You know … that water heater … hot tub?”

I was right there with her, but we decided that the electricity combination is dangerous enough, but putting it in a flimsy plastic pool might be taunting fate too much.
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Next story? Well Kathryn and I were walking up to my house that day and per usual there is a Honduran male peeing outside my house. I always have this huge fear that, even though I slow down when I see them outside, that me walking really slow will still get me to my door before they’ve finished their business. I really have no desire to see random body parts … like ever and I just feel like it would be incredibly awkward for all parties involved.

Well Kathryn and I successfully avoid seeing Honduran … parts … and get to the house. Now, Bourbon is even more sick than he usually is and we were waiting for a coworker of mine to arrive to “diagnose” him and give him antibiotics if necessary. My yard looks very white trashy. Actually, my whole house. Kathryn, last time she visited me, told me I live like a bachelor. A gross mealy apple someone gave me sat on my window sill for weeks before I tossed it, and I only tossed it because Kathryn, upon leaving the last time, told me that if it was still there on her next visit that she would throw it at my head … I believed her. Therefore, when we walked in the door I discreetly chucked it out the window while she put her stuff down.

Well, I have a puppy that has an oral fixation quite unlike I’ve ever seen in other animals or humans. It doesn’t help that that my yard is filled with trash that people have been burying there over the years.

Trash in the yard + curious, chewing puppy + my lack of motivation = lots of bits of trash all over my front yard.

Apparently this bothers Kathryn and she got to picking up the trash while we waited for Humberto. You can’t watch a friend clean up your yard while you sit there, so naturally I get up to help. Well, we make our way to the fence and I grab a black, plastic bag. The immediate sensation of wetness drips down my hand and my brain wastes no time …
“CAMPESINO PEE! OH MY GOD THERE’S CAMPESINO PEE ALL OVER MY HAND!!!!!! AHHHHHIIIIYYYYYYYHHHHHHEEEWWWWWWWWW”

I take off around the house at lightning speed with the sound of Kathryn’s laughing hysterically behind me. I get to my pila and start scrubbing down both arms like I’m preparing for major surgery. The entire time I’m mumbling, “Oh man. Too gross. So not cool. CAMPESINO PEE! Oh no. Oh no.”

Several minutes later, when I feel like I’ve sufficiently disinfected myself I immerge from the house to Kathryn still doubled up outside my house laughing.

“That’s the most hilarious thing I could have ever seen.”

“Actually, no it’s not hilarious KATHRYN! It’s gross. So gross.” Again, like a little kid, I plop myself down on the porch with my arms folded and watch her pick up the rest of the trash.

For the next two days, whether it made sense or not, she often replied with, “Well you did touch campesino pee…”
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February 25th, 2010 was the official one year in country for my group! Kathryn and I were quite excited that we had work to do (which would limit the potential for depressive wallowing) and were heading up to a new community to talk to them about doing a potential study. We wake up, late after deciding not to run because it was “too cold,” and I lounge in bed a little longer than Kathryn.

“Toilet’s not running, which means there still isn’t any water. Way to go Honduras …”
I hear bustling in the kitchen and marvel at how Kathryn can read my mind and is already preparing the coffee. Love that girl! Then there’s a piercing yell!

“There’s no luz!!!! We can’t make coffee because there isn’t any electricity! KILL ME!”
That's a bit dramatic, but still ...

Now I’m really not getting out of bed. I yell from my covers, “You know what this means? This means today is going to be the worst day ever. This means that everything is going to go wrong because there already isn’t any water or luz. Now, because this is an important day for us and things already suck that means we won’t end up going out to the community. Now, we’re going to spend the entire day in my house, cold, without electricity or work. We’ll only be able to watch one movie and then spend the rest of the day wallowing in depression! I can’t handle this today!!” This was delivered in the hysterical, breathy voice that I’m sure you all can now recall fondly (hahaha!)

“Ok, calm down. That might not happen.”

In retaliation we decided to show up to the mayor’s office a half hour late as we were quite put off and Hondurans are never on time. Well, around 8:05 am the woman we were coordinating with called us. The minute Kathryn spoke in Spanish I knew it was Norma and I got unbelievably angry that they had the audacity of confronting us on our tardiness. Well, there was more. FIJENSEQUE the municipality thought that we were going to find a ride (which we’ve never done EVER in the times we’ve worked with them before!) and the muni can’t take us because their only car is in Teguz. Lovely.
“I KNEW IT!” I screech in the middle of the street as I perform the angry dance to show my distress. Kathryn shooed me away, which didn’t help matters. We were supposed to continue up to the muni to talk to her about the specifics of the project and try to find a time when we could go a different week. The entire walk up the hill (about 15 – 20 minutes) I launched into an extensive breakdown of why Honduras is doomed and all the potential ways we were going to get screwed that day. Luckily, Kathryn tried to be positive, which was better than us both losing it!

At the muni we also encountered the fontaneros (plumbers) for the water system in Corquin whom we have been working with on an improvement project for Corquin. They have been avoiding me like the plague and had more excuses that because the line was messed up at the moment it would be better for us to wait for it to get “normal” before we could continue with our work. Well that sent me off too.

“I’m hanging by a thread here man! I need work! We need to advance in something for once!! I can’t sit around anymore!!!!!!”

We talked with Norma, which didn’t really reveal much information other than she’s leaving the job and we’ll be dealing with a new guy now. We leave, broken down again by Honduras.

“What now?”
“I need coffee … Or a gun. Pick one.”

“What if someone from ODECO is going up to Joconales and could take us? I can’t sit around today. There’s no point without luz.”
“He doesn’t have a car. Maybe you should go with him and I’ll just go take a nap …” Kathryn’s glare tells me that that is an unacceptable suggestion.

“Let’s go to Casa Grande and get coffee and then we’ll figure out something to do …”
My co-worker calls and … well we got up to the aldea in maybe the most unsafe method of transportation and I can’t really publish those details here. Everyone that we passed stared to the point that they might have broken their necks.

The nice thing is that we got to do some work and the community seems very proactive. We talked to a few guys and they seem very eager to work and we made some considerable progress. I returned to Corquin with a new attitude and wasn’t breaking down into hysterical cursing every few minutes.

Satisfied with our half day or work, we crawled back into bed to watch 1.5 movies before my computer died. Usually the power comes back on around 5 p.m., but that day it came back at 3! I screeched when I noticed the lights go on. “LUZ!! We have LUZ! We can eat now! God I’m so hungry!” Why did I ever buy an electric stove?? Good things come to those who wait.

So, the day didn’t end up being too bad. Kathryn and I had a bottle of champagne to celebrate our one year in country. She wanted to open it all calm like, but I insisted that we have some sort of explosion, which seemed to suit our relationship with Honduras a little better. Now, I’ve never opened champagne before. I can’t even handle open a bottle of wine. The other week I was trying to open a bottle of wine with the little corkscrew on my Swiss army knife and promptly snapped it off (sorry Pap-Pap). This left me to come up with creative ways to get the rest of the cork out without causing major damage to myself or the bottle. It got interesting.

I did get the cork off and it went about one foot, but without the showy explosion of champagne that you see in the movies and stuff. Still, it was more exciting than slowly working it off. So, Kathryn and I spent the night with the champagne and soup while reading several month old Cosmopolitans and listening to trash rap (IE: “Apologize” Timbaland; “Got Your Money” Ol Dirty Bastard; “Crank that Spider Man” Soldier Boy”) Random, you say? Yes, but also great fun.

This morning … Well, some background information. I am a Wat/San Volunteer and I have a toilet that runs and a leaky faucet on my pila, which are the two biggest problems when we talk about wasting water in Honduras. I know, I know. I feel guilty, but not enough to overcome the procrastination to fix the faucet.

When we weren’t really getting water I loosened up the faucet so that it would let out more than the usual drip. That morning my pila was full and I decided I should reduce it down to a drip again, and as I had down the time before to tighten the faucet, I grab my hammer and start knocking the faucet around. Ok, knocking isn’t right … tapping. Well the first knock sent water spraying out from the band sealing up the connection, which got all over me. Crap. So I tapped it again. More spraying. HRMMMM. Knock a different part of it? (now I was really knocking it around). More spraying. I try a different angle and the whole faucet breaks off and I just have a huge stream of water coming out of the tube and flowing all over my back patio. Oh God. Now what?

“Oh man. Not good. Oh … I’m in trouble …” At this point Kathryn emerges from the house and is like, “What the heck did you you?!”

Then, Dimitri, who was coming over, rounds the corner and goes, “Geez! What did you do?!”

There’s me, sprayed with water, with the hammer in my hand looking like a guilty little kid. Dimitri, being my resident handyman, goes and borrows an adjustable wrench, buys a new faucet and fixes my pila. Now I’m a good Wat/San Volunteer with only a runny toilet!

We sat down to breakfast a little later and during a pause in the conversation Dimitri says, “Now in what world did hitting that thing with a hammer make any sense to you … ??”