I realize that I owe you all a more entertaining, funny blog than I have been delivering recently. The events of the past couple of weeks have been anything but funny, but they can be spun into funny experiences for the entertainment of friends and family.
Having talked to a few of you I think people sensed a bit of depression in my last blog email, which was very perceptive and most certainly the case. I have since recovered and am doing fine, but had a couple of weeks where I was really anxious and struggling with well ... life.
Anyways, on a lighter note, Kathryn came to visit for a few days and we started my first study here in my area! Kathryn came down for Honduran Dia de Independencia, where we relaxed in my backyard with a few beers, catching up. We were supposed to go on a hike, but we didn't quite make it and decided to celebrate their independence day with our own traditions, because as Kathryn said, "They took ours from us!" She's referring to the fact that 4th of July was during the golpe de estado and we weren't allowed to leave our sites, which resulted in some bum parties.
Anyways, so the next morning we woke-up and hauled Carl (theodolite) and equipo del diablo (tripod named "Equipment of the Devil") up to Joconales. Joconales is the community I found when I randomly went out with an ODECO technician all that time back. We started at their water source and I've never seen so many mosquitoes in my life. I am now a master at killing then, because they seem to not mind insect repellent! Bugs in Honduras are on steroids! Massive mosquitoes, huge cockroaches and the flat spider in my bathroom is like nothing I've ever seen before. I'm suspicious and haven't killed him because I don't want his bigger family member to stalk me in my bed at night.
We had a much easier go of it this time with the equipment because we are finally familiar with Carl and figured out the trick of the WHITE TRIANGLE!
When I went to help Kathryn on her study we spent HOURS trying to find the estadia (measures distance) and the back shot (reference point) in all the coffee trees. It was so hard to figure out exactly which leaf was the one that was closest to our equipment! GAAH But this lovely white triangle, which I love so much because it has made my life easier and I want to get it tattooed on me (just kidding), is so helpful in finding people that now it takes mere seconds! The joy!
My study is a lot easier because we aren't going through coffee and there's a third of the houses, but alas there are MILLIONS of bugs! We are familiar with the equipment, but spent so much time fighting of blood-sucking buggers that we were still kind of slow!
First, there were the mosquitoes that ate us while we were in the jungle and the entire time the guys helping us were like, "Don't worry! Once we leave the trees there won't be anymore bugs..." But then!, once we got closer to the field we had to pass through, they started changing their tune! Suddenly, it became, "You think the mosquitoes are bad?? Wait for the moscos!"
Now, imagine gnats in all their abundance and annoying-ness, but also the ability to draw blood... Yes, these are moscos and APPARENTLY! Joconales has a "plague" of moscos at the moment!
Kathryn was practically in tears it was so painful when they bite and we got so many bites. She reacted particularly strongly and had to try really hard to keep it together. By the end of the study we were both in a foul mood and itching like you couldn't believe. Not to mention, Hondurans love to point out the obvious! When we finished for the day and got back to Don Manuel's house (he's been spearheading this with me) everyone felt the need to chide us on our arms and tell us that we really should have worn long sleeves. Like I hadn't noticed that I spent 7 hours getting eaten alive and my arms look like crap!?
As a result of the terrible bites, we went and made chocolate-chip waffles (I have a waffle-maker!) to make us feel better. By the evening our arms were swollen and really achy, which was kind of scary because apparently these bugs can give you a fever too. I feel like Peace Corps Honduras could make everyone a hypochondriac because you're constantly assuming the worse will come out of the weird encounters you have with nature here. Kathryn kept muttering, "It can't be good getting that many bites! I mean, they have to be carrying like a million diseases!"
The next day was really fun, because it was our first Dia de Campo. Dia de Campo is a series of events that are held on farms that are working with ODECO. They're encouraging farmers to plant more crops and raise more animals for subsistence farming; coffee is the cash crop, but they're now growing fruits and vegetables to feed their families. At each of these events there are stations about different themes like: chickens, planning your farm/family, sanitation (ME!) and soil conservation. Each event will have different themes for the community and the people attending.
It's actually a lot of fun, because you're interacting with the people and co-workers and there's a lot of REALLY GOOD FOOD! First, we start off with coffee and bread (my favorited) at like 10 am. Then! we had Sopa de Gallina at noon for lunch. Sopa de Gallina is a delicacy here, which is basically soup with roasted chicken, but it's oh so delicious! And then, of course, we have to close the day with more coffee and bread.
Anyways, so Kathryn and I did a sanitation charla to 5 groups of campesinos for 30 minutes each. It got really boring, but at least each group had different questions and we kind of branched into new topics with each new question. Each department (like districts in the States) has a health technician. The one for San Pedro de Copan came and "helped us," which was essentially him speaking 3/4 of the time and KatP and I the rest, but that's ok because it was his job and he covered a lot of stuff we hadn't even thought about.
All in all, a good day, even though I wanted to cry my arms were so swollen and achy. Again, people made sure I was aware that it looked like I had chicken pocks, but oh well...
Second day on the study was uneventful; we wore long sleeves so our arms were somewhat protected. They ended up attacking my hands, but I could deal with that. We still didn't finish, but we're close and I'm going to get the equipment when Kathryn is on vacation the last week in September.
Well, that wasn't as interesting/funny as I had thought. Damn. Well, at least you can imagine me and Kathryn swatting at all these little moscos as we try to level the damn tripod. That thing is the devil, I swear! You screw in one leg and move to another and the leg you thought you just secured suddenly moves, which throws your bubble all out of whack! Then you swear and then the campesinos kind of get quiet. At one point Kathryn yelled, "GET THE F**** AWAY FROM ME!" to the moscos. I got so embarrassed and said, "Kathryn, they might not understand exactly what you're saying, but your tone still makes it pretty obvious..." At least she laughed at that.
I will say that Bourbon is the new celebrity in town. On Saturday as we waited for the bus I had about 7 Honduran men surrounding me, asking about my dog. They're lecturing me on how to take care of him, which I kind of responded with, "I will take better care of my dog than you could possibly IMAGINE!" but I figured that was rude.
People have offered to buy my dog and even asked if I will "gift" him to them. This is part of Honduran culture: they have no shame asking you to "gift" them things, which I find hilarious! One of the guys I work with insists that the leave the puppy behind so he has a reminder of me! HAH in your dreams! This is a good little puppy and he's coming with me! If it's going to be so hard to train him, he's definitely going to accompany me to the States.
Other than that, there's not too much going on. Got work. Got a puppy. Pretty content now!
Take care all! Pictures to come!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
“It’s like trying to make pumpkin pie out of cow shit …”
This was the best quote from reconnect. I forget what exactly it was in reference to, but I think the speaker intended it to more or less summarize the Peace Corps experience. What can I say, some people (sometimes we) are cynical! We had a “constructive criticism,” which essentially allowed for all the jaded folks to unleash their disappointment with Peace Corps.
Other than that, reconnect was great. It was great to see all my friends again and meet the H12ers. I think reconnect mainly serves as a morale booster, but I learned a few things as well. It was unfortunate, because our last day the power was out until about 5:30 so we couldn’t do all the training sessions that required computers or projectors. These sessions happened to be the ones I was the most interested in!
It essentially was four days where Volunteers could catch up and get rowdy together, but we talked work too. It was absolutely exhausting, especially after the previous weekend with Noche de Fumadores, but well worth the trip. Not too much to talk about!
---
Probably what I’m more concerned about mentioning is the arrival of a permanent visitor in my home … my puppy! After reconnect I went to Andrea’s house and met the remaining puppies. They were so cute! I wanted to take them all home, but this guy will be a handful as it is; HE IS SO HUGE! He’s only two months old and is about the size of an older, 4 month-old puppy. He also has HUGE paws, which I imagine indicate that he will also become a big dog.
After being bombarded by puppy love, I got some one-on-one time with Sapo, which was his name given by Andrea; means toad/frog. I actually really liked that name, but Hondurans DESPISE frogs and I knew they would really not like his name. Actually, they still don’t like Bourbon because they can’t pronounce it. Now, his Spanish name (Hondurans always want to know how names translate and don’t understand when I tell them they don’t normally …) is Toby; that’s a common Honduran dog name and easy for them to say. Anyways, he really could have cared less about my existence and I kind of got sad, thinking that he didn’t like me or something. Little did I know there would be plenty of time to bond in the next two days!
We picked up Bourbon and went to my friend’s house, where a bunch of people were staying for the despedida (going-away party) for a guy in the area. One of the girls in Santa Barbara has Bourbon’s sister and they were playing all day, which was great because I feel like it eased his transition a little bit. They were pretty rough and Lady (the female dog) was dominating Bourbon, but everyone had fun with the two not-so-little puppies in the house … Well, apart from Lady having a fondness of attacking men’s nether regions and Bourbon not yet understanding the concept of not peeing on people’s sleeping mats.
We all hung out there for the night and had a couple of beers to congratulate T on the completion of his service. It was a nice break after reconnect and get used to Bourbon before we continued on to my site. The entire time I was mildly fretting about the 5 hour journey that we had ahead of us …
Two weeks ago Andrea made little traveling boxes for all the puppies. Key words: TWO WEEKS AGO. The little buggers had grown so much that he barely fit in the box and could easily stick his head out the top. He was really good on the way into the city because that was the first time he was out of the house and I think he was majorly overwhelmed.
Well, let’s just say that the next day on the way to the bus stop he was not as well behaved. On the walk down to the bus-stop he was squirming to get out. Not to mention the pitiful crying that he seems to have adopted as a major method of announcing his disapproval of any and all situations.
Anyways, we were waiting in the bus stop for quite a while and he kept crying, wanting to get out of the box. I let him out for a while, because it was really hot, and when the bus finally came I had him securely bundled inside, because bus drivers (especially on the fancy buses like the one we took) aren’t too fond of animals on the buses.
Well, I’m climbing on the bus with the box in my hand and the bus driver says, “Que tiene?” / “What do you have (in there)?”
I couldn’t lie … :sheepishly: … “A puppy…”
“No, dogs aren’t allowed. They’re prohibited.”
“Please.” And Hannah just walks by with the box. Just. Walks. By!
I had just spent a week with a whole bunch of Americans and the extent of my desire to speak Spanish was minimal and I didn’t want to argue with the guy. The bus was pretty full, so I didn’t get very far, and as we drove away I heard the bus driver bitching about how dogs weren’t allowed. As they were discussing the presence of a dog (IN A BOX!) on their bus, a few people around me noticed him (by now he had thrust his head out) and were commenting on how cute he was. A woman sitting in the very first seat told me to put the box at her feet, because they would kick me off if I kept the box in the aisle. After the discussion up front became more heated, I decided to take her up on her offer, and put Bourbon in her seat. He struggled to get out because he was so hot, but we had to keep him in the box because I was hoping that the bus driver would forget and chill out! This woman was really nice! Hondurans hate dogs and this woman was a saint to let me put my dog at her feet while he’s panting and crying to get out! Poor thing, looking back I felt so bad, but at the time I was so stressed! At this point I was cursing myself and my situation because it was really too hot for him, but I couldn’t take him out.
Well it took the bus driver and his ayudante (helper) several minutes to start threatening me; it was weird, we were on the bus for quite a while before they tried to throw me off! I tried to ignore them, but it didn’t really work. Luckily, another Volunteer was with me and he helped advocate to keep the puppy upside. The ayudante wanted to put the box underneath the bus, and I was so thankful that all the people around me rallied on my behalf and battled the mean bus driver! Everyone started shouting, “It’s just a puppy and he’s in the box! He’s not bothering anyone! Plus, he’ll suffocate and get so hot down there he’ll die!!” After a while they laid off and we rode the rest of the bus ride to the stop. I will forever be grateful to those people who stuck-up with me, because if it wasn’t for them I would have just gotten off the bus and been stranded, trying to figure something else out. That experience (with the nice people) really boosted my respect for this culture, because people are quick to help you out and very accommodating and nice.
Even though the guys stopped threatening me, I was on the verge of tears the entire time. A seat finally opened up and I sat done with the box in my lap. After .2 seconds Bourbon started HOWLING and I mean HOWLING to get out of the box. I tried to keep him quiet, but he wasn’t going for it. At this point the bus driver might have forgotten he had a dog on his bus, but this definitely reminded him, and I really didn’t want to upset him anymore. T (the Volunteer) was really nice and told me not to worry about the bus guys and we should take Bourbon out and see what happens. Bourbon was really content just being out of the box and slept on T’s lap for the rest of the trip. THANK GOD!
We got off the bus and almost immediately caught another. This was a chicken bus (yellow school bus) and services local areas, so they could have cared less about a dog on their bus. They’ve probably had tons of weird animals on that bus, because for 99.9% of the population that’s their only method of transportation! I was so relieved, because that first encounter had me terrified that all the buses I had to take would be the same. Bourbon was really good and slept the entire way; he didn’t even go to the bathroom on the bus! … but then again that could have been because the bus broke down shortly after we got on!
We were on the side of the road for a while before another bus came. We tried to rush to make it, but with my big-ass suitcase and all of T’s stuff, we weren’t moving very fast; they left without us. So, I took that opportunity to walk Bourbon and luckily another bus came within a half-hour and we were off again! This ride went smoothly. T got off about 45 minutes before me and I had the rest of the ride to Santa Rosa de Copan. As if the journey wasn’t enough of a hassle, I found out I missed the last bus towards my site and the next bus that would pass about half-hour outside of it was delayed, so it would be getting dark and I didn’t feel too comfortable with that. SO! I called up my lovely friend Kathryn and she is awesome and had no problems with us crashing for the night.
It was actually a welcome stop because I was so tired and stressed it was nice to be somewhere familiar and rest before completing the trip. One of the other PCVs who lives in SRC invited us out to celebrate her boyfriend’s birthday, so we had a wonderful dinner and watched the Honduras vs. Trinidad & Tobago qualifying soccer game for the World Cup (Honduras won!).
At half-time I went to check on Bourbon and see if he had destroyed Kathryn’s apartment. He had indeed used her floor as a public bathroom, which I promptly cleaned up and then decided to take him for a walk. The entire time we were walking around the block he was crying! I think he was so scared of everything and overwhelmed that he just cried and cried. It was kind of ridiculous. So I go to leave a few minutes later and he starts HOWLING again! Like, if I’m not right by his side, he’s howling; even if he can still see me. I wanted to stay and comfort him, but they were waiting for me for dessert and I couldn’t resist … hah! I could hear him howling from about 2 blocks away.
He cried a lot in Kathryn’s place and woke her up in the morning. I’m terrible and pretty much forgot that’s how puppies are! I was mortified because I already felt like I was putting her out, but she was fine. Anyways, woke-up the next morning, jumped on the bus and got to Corquin! I lost my phone on the bus, which I noticed about 15 minutes later and ran to catch up with the bus, but it was already gone. I think the kid working the tickets took it, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I had a lot of credit on there, which was annoying, but oh well. At least we’re home and he’s settling down and seems comfortable. I’m going to go take a nap, but there will be plenty of puppy stories because HE IS SO CUTE!
Not the best blog, but it served to de-stress me at the time. I wrote it when I had just got home and served as more of a bitch session, but things are better!
Bourbon is really intelligent and I good dog. He’s calm and is just a big love-bug. I had people over to celebrate some people in my area completing their two years, and he was great with everyone and didn’t destroy anything! He loved all the people playing with him. He cries less now and is even getting pretty brave. He’s a little rough with other dogs in the beginning and definitely has some food aggression when other dogs are around. I can play with his bowl, but my friend brought his puppy and Bourbon was very aggressive when they were eating. I have to work on that with him!
So, that’s that with puppy stories for now. I have the same number, so don’t worry about that!
Other than that, reconnect was great. It was great to see all my friends again and meet the H12ers. I think reconnect mainly serves as a morale booster, but I learned a few things as well. It was unfortunate, because our last day the power was out until about 5:30 so we couldn’t do all the training sessions that required computers or projectors. These sessions happened to be the ones I was the most interested in!
It essentially was four days where Volunteers could catch up and get rowdy together, but we talked work too. It was absolutely exhausting, especially after the previous weekend with Noche de Fumadores, but well worth the trip. Not too much to talk about!
---
Probably what I’m more concerned about mentioning is the arrival of a permanent visitor in my home … my puppy! After reconnect I went to Andrea’s house and met the remaining puppies. They were so cute! I wanted to take them all home, but this guy will be a handful as it is; HE IS SO HUGE! He’s only two months old and is about the size of an older, 4 month-old puppy. He also has HUGE paws, which I imagine indicate that he will also become a big dog.
After being bombarded by puppy love, I got some one-on-one time with Sapo, which was his name given by Andrea; means toad/frog. I actually really liked that name, but Hondurans DESPISE frogs and I knew they would really not like his name. Actually, they still don’t like Bourbon because they can’t pronounce it. Now, his Spanish name (Hondurans always want to know how names translate and don’t understand when I tell them they don’t normally …) is Toby; that’s a common Honduran dog name and easy for them to say. Anyways, he really could have cared less about my existence and I kind of got sad, thinking that he didn’t like me or something. Little did I know there would be plenty of time to bond in the next two days!
We picked up Bourbon and went to my friend’s house, where a bunch of people were staying for the despedida (going-away party) for a guy in the area. One of the girls in Santa Barbara has Bourbon’s sister and they were playing all day, which was great because I feel like it eased his transition a little bit. They were pretty rough and Lady (the female dog) was dominating Bourbon, but everyone had fun with the two not-so-little puppies in the house … Well, apart from Lady having a fondness of attacking men’s nether regions and Bourbon not yet understanding the concept of not peeing on people’s sleeping mats.
We all hung out there for the night and had a couple of beers to congratulate T on the completion of his service. It was a nice break after reconnect and get used to Bourbon before we continued on to my site. The entire time I was mildly fretting about the 5 hour journey that we had ahead of us …
Two weeks ago Andrea made little traveling boxes for all the puppies. Key words: TWO WEEKS AGO. The little buggers had grown so much that he barely fit in the box and could easily stick his head out the top. He was really good on the way into the city because that was the first time he was out of the house and I think he was majorly overwhelmed.
Well, let’s just say that the next day on the way to the bus stop he was not as well behaved. On the walk down to the bus-stop he was squirming to get out. Not to mention the pitiful crying that he seems to have adopted as a major method of announcing his disapproval of any and all situations.
Anyways, we were waiting in the bus stop for quite a while and he kept crying, wanting to get out of the box. I let him out for a while, because it was really hot, and when the bus finally came I had him securely bundled inside, because bus drivers (especially on the fancy buses like the one we took) aren’t too fond of animals on the buses.
Well, I’m climbing on the bus with the box in my hand and the bus driver says, “Que tiene?” / “What do you have (in there)?”
I couldn’t lie … :sheepishly: … “A puppy…”
“No, dogs aren’t allowed. They’re prohibited.”
“Please.” And Hannah just walks by with the box. Just. Walks. By!
I had just spent a week with a whole bunch of Americans and the extent of my desire to speak Spanish was minimal and I didn’t want to argue with the guy. The bus was pretty full, so I didn’t get very far, and as we drove away I heard the bus driver bitching about how dogs weren’t allowed. As they were discussing the presence of a dog (IN A BOX!) on their bus, a few people around me noticed him (by now he had thrust his head out) and were commenting on how cute he was. A woman sitting in the very first seat told me to put the box at her feet, because they would kick me off if I kept the box in the aisle. After the discussion up front became more heated, I decided to take her up on her offer, and put Bourbon in her seat. He struggled to get out because he was so hot, but we had to keep him in the box because I was hoping that the bus driver would forget and chill out! This woman was really nice! Hondurans hate dogs and this woman was a saint to let me put my dog at her feet while he’s panting and crying to get out! Poor thing, looking back I felt so bad, but at the time I was so stressed! At this point I was cursing myself and my situation because it was really too hot for him, but I couldn’t take him out.
Well it took the bus driver and his ayudante (helper) several minutes to start threatening me; it was weird, we were on the bus for quite a while before they tried to throw me off! I tried to ignore them, but it didn’t really work. Luckily, another Volunteer was with me and he helped advocate to keep the puppy upside. The ayudante wanted to put the box underneath the bus, and I was so thankful that all the people around me rallied on my behalf and battled the mean bus driver! Everyone started shouting, “It’s just a puppy and he’s in the box! He’s not bothering anyone! Plus, he’ll suffocate and get so hot down there he’ll die!!” After a while they laid off and we rode the rest of the bus ride to the stop. I will forever be grateful to those people who stuck-up with me, because if it wasn’t for them I would have just gotten off the bus and been stranded, trying to figure something else out. That experience (with the nice people) really boosted my respect for this culture, because people are quick to help you out and very accommodating and nice.
Even though the guys stopped threatening me, I was on the verge of tears the entire time. A seat finally opened up and I sat done with the box in my lap. After .2 seconds Bourbon started HOWLING and I mean HOWLING to get out of the box. I tried to keep him quiet, but he wasn’t going for it. At this point the bus driver might have forgotten he had a dog on his bus, but this definitely reminded him, and I really didn’t want to upset him anymore. T (the Volunteer) was really nice and told me not to worry about the bus guys and we should take Bourbon out and see what happens. Bourbon was really content just being out of the box and slept on T’s lap for the rest of the trip. THANK GOD!
We got off the bus and almost immediately caught another. This was a chicken bus (yellow school bus) and services local areas, so they could have cared less about a dog on their bus. They’ve probably had tons of weird animals on that bus, because for 99.9% of the population that’s their only method of transportation! I was so relieved, because that first encounter had me terrified that all the buses I had to take would be the same. Bourbon was really good and slept the entire way; he didn’t even go to the bathroom on the bus! … but then again that could have been because the bus broke down shortly after we got on!
We were on the side of the road for a while before another bus came. We tried to rush to make it, but with my big-ass suitcase and all of T’s stuff, we weren’t moving very fast; they left without us. So, I took that opportunity to walk Bourbon and luckily another bus came within a half-hour and we were off again! This ride went smoothly. T got off about 45 minutes before me and I had the rest of the ride to Santa Rosa de Copan. As if the journey wasn’t enough of a hassle, I found out I missed the last bus towards my site and the next bus that would pass about half-hour outside of it was delayed, so it would be getting dark and I didn’t feel too comfortable with that. SO! I called up my lovely friend Kathryn and she is awesome and had no problems with us crashing for the night.
It was actually a welcome stop because I was so tired and stressed it was nice to be somewhere familiar and rest before completing the trip. One of the other PCVs who lives in SRC invited us out to celebrate her boyfriend’s birthday, so we had a wonderful dinner and watched the Honduras vs. Trinidad & Tobago qualifying soccer game for the World Cup (Honduras won!).
At half-time I went to check on Bourbon and see if he had destroyed Kathryn’s apartment. He had indeed used her floor as a public bathroom, which I promptly cleaned up and then decided to take him for a walk. The entire time we were walking around the block he was crying! I think he was so scared of everything and overwhelmed that he just cried and cried. It was kind of ridiculous. So I go to leave a few minutes later and he starts HOWLING again! Like, if I’m not right by his side, he’s howling; even if he can still see me. I wanted to stay and comfort him, but they were waiting for me for dessert and I couldn’t resist … hah! I could hear him howling from about 2 blocks away.
He cried a lot in Kathryn’s place and woke her up in the morning. I’m terrible and pretty much forgot that’s how puppies are! I was mortified because I already felt like I was putting her out, but she was fine. Anyways, woke-up the next morning, jumped on the bus and got to Corquin! I lost my phone on the bus, which I noticed about 15 minutes later and ran to catch up with the bus, but it was already gone. I think the kid working the tickets took it, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I had a lot of credit on there, which was annoying, but oh well. At least we’re home and he’s settling down and seems comfortable. I’m going to go take a nap, but there will be plenty of puppy stories because HE IS SO CUTE!
Not the best blog, but it served to de-stress me at the time. I wrote it when I had just got home and served as more of a bitch session, but things are better!
Bourbon is really intelligent and I good dog. He’s calm and is just a big love-bug. I had people over to celebrate some people in my area completing their two years, and he was great with everyone and didn’t destroy anything! He loved all the people playing with him. He cries less now and is even getting pretty brave. He’s a little rough with other dogs in the beginning and definitely has some food aggression when other dogs are around. I can play with his bowl, but my friend brought his puppy and Bourbon was very aggressive when they were eating. I have to work on that with him!
So, that’s that with puppy stories for now. I have the same number, so don’t worry about that!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Noche de Fumadores
Well this was my first real event with Peace Corps Volunteers from a different projects and groups. I stayed at Kathryn’s place with a bunch of people; about 10 to be exact. We were all on our best behavior and everyone was still alive by the end of the weekend. I think Peace Corps gives you such a traveler’s mentality and people are really conscious of their actions and try to be really accommodating. It’s weird, but I don’t know if that many people eating and sleeping in such a small space would have worked at home.
Anyways, there were a lot of people in town and I think final calculations of PCVs in attendance at Noche de Fumadores was about 65 – 70 people. There are four Volunteers living in Santa Rosa and each hosted at least 2 or 3 people in their apartments. The remaining people we in a hotel right around the corner from Kat’s house.
It has become a tradition for me to go and get the “good beers” when I have gone to Santa Rosa overnight. The store that sells the “good beers” is remodeling and I was extremely dismayed to find that there were three HUGE coolers blocking the wee one that houses all the ice-cold Hoegarden, Leffe and Stella. Luckily, they like us and Kathryn has befriended them, so I didn’t think it would be too much to ask if they could do some moving around for me to get at the equivalent of beer heaven in Honduras. I think they figured out what we wanted … can’t help but notice the two gringas standing, staring longingly at the lovely beer cooler. I actually got really embarrassed when three men were called to help move the coolers. It took them a few minutes to get everything situated. Meanwhile, every other customer in the store is watching us wait for the moving of the cooler and then the smiles spread across our faces as the beers are handed over. My pena (shame) was quickly abated when we had the beers and sour cream and onion chips in Kathryn’s apartment. It’s kind of nice living in a world where such simple pleasures as good company and sour cream and onion chips become the highlight of your month and was monumental events in your life. Ok, that might be slightly exaggerated.
After that more people started trickling in and we began the shower process. As people rotated in the shower the others were getting ready and drinking the crappy Honduran (albeit slightly cheaper) beer. Really the point of this blog is not supposed to revolve around beer, but such is life…
So we get all pretty (pictures will be posted). It was really weird to see everyone formally dressed. I’ve seen people in my training group dressed up for swearing – in, but I think people put more effort into Noche de Fumadores.
So, basically they had 400 tickets for this event; about 70 of those tickets were bought by Peace Corps Volunteers. We get there, and after getting out little tote-bags with 4 cigars, matches and a little sample of coffee, we’re shown to our tables. They put us outside on the balcony, very much separated from the rest of the people who were in the main room. You could look at this as they were purposefully trying to get us isolated from the event or they were doing us a favor by putting us outside and together. Either way, once the event got underway they actually gave us a nice shout-out, actually thanking all the Peace Corps Volunteers for their attendance. After the opening ceremony they opened the food line, which was my main focus at the time. They didn’t plan very well on the food front. Maybe they didn’t realize the all the PCVs would pointedly not eat dinner, knowing full well that there would be food at Noche and we could fill up there, since we already paid for it! We also were the first in line and as a result there wasn’t much food left for people who went later. Damn greedy Americans!
There was also free beer (crappy Honduran beer) and free wine (well, free in the sense that you had already paid out you’re a—and they had the courtesy not to charge you more inside). At one point I saw a friend (no names!) walking in with three beers and pointedly putting them down in front of her, making it very obvious that she had no intention of sharing.
Personally, I got excited about the CHEESE! Cheese here is terrible; would make the French weep with the bastardization of an art that they pride in. Nonetheless, the cheese here was decent and more varied that the high-sodium stuff I find in Corquin. I made several passes by that table…
Apart from the cheese I was also very attached to the dance floor. Don’t know what happened, but I took to dancing this past weekend. After a couple of beers and a lot of Friday nights spent alone at home, I wasn’t about to sit around! One of the early dance partners complimented me on my moves (I know he was being nice!) and that coupled with a little liquid courage had me out there all night! I had a blast just kind of making things up as I went along and pretending that I could dance Latin music. For the most part, I don’t think I was all that bad.
I think we actually left around 1 a.m. and a large group split off to find some more dancing places. Instead of going home I tried to find another place to hang out, but they tried to charge cover and that’s when I decided to go home. I have a thing against paying cover and I’m sure not going to start paying it here.
This is one of the main reasons I love Kathryn: the next morning we had bagels! She spent a weekend making dozens of bagels for her house guests! We had cinnamon and raisin, poppy seed and onion, chocolate chip and plain! And cream cheese! Drank coffee, ate bagels, chatted and some people popped some aspirin. I went to bed probably around 3 a.m. and woke up around 7 a.m. Couple of the girls woke-up at a god-awful hour because everyone is so used to waking-up early and then the traffic on the street was horrendously loud. During the carnivals here, they hire trucks to go around announcing things and for some reason they start at 5 a.m. I vaguely remember something loud passing by and Kathryn moaning, “I HATE HONDURAS!”
The adventurous people actually left the house at a decent hour to explore the day’s events, but a few of us stayed in a bit longer and just relaxed. Finally we did go out, eat and explore the coffee tasting. In the Central Park there were a whole bunch of local coffee producers that were giving coffee tastings and selling their wares. We walked around and enjoyed the music and nice weather. Great afternoon.
The partying was not yet completed! Apparently the night before wasn’t enough for us! Actually, one of the girls in Santa Rosa left for the States today (Monday). She finished her service and it’s tradition to have a huge party for the people leaving. Saturday night we all went out to a couple of bars and there was more dancing. I had a blast! Reminded me of times with Old Glory people, just with three times the people! I hardly knew any of the Volunteers who weren’t in my training group, but it was nice to meet people and hang out. I met two girls in the bathroom and here’s the normal conversation when meeting a PCV:
“Hey! (usually there’s no point asking if they’re with Peace Corps) what group are you?”
“I’m H14 Wat/San.”
“Oh, I’m H12 business. What’s your site? I’m in X…”
“Corquin.”
“OH! :insert here mention of sitemate or other people that reside near this site. Also, it’s common to spout-off other information you might know about this person, which usually comes from the rampant Peace Corps gossip chain. (RANDOM EXAMPLE: Oh! So you’re the one who got drunk in training and no one likes?: Obvious exaggeration…).”
And then you carry on. Actually, I ran into one PCV towards the end of the night and asked (in English) if he saw someone from our group. He must not have heard me, because he just whipped me onto the dance floor and then proceeded to talk to me in Spanish… I did the head-cocked, are you crazy look, before saying, “I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer … You bought me a shot earlier!!”
He was like, “OH! Whoops.”
I was really confused when he started speaking Spanish, although there are those Volunteers who are so intent on practicing their Spanish that they won’t speak English to you. I want to smack those people; this is the only time that I can speak English and you better believe I’m taking advantage of it! Snap out of it!!
Some people went out after that bar too, but about 4 am is my limit for being awake. I don’t know what happened to me this past weekend. I morphed into a rare form of Hannah … I don’t dance and I don’t generally like to stay out past 1 am. Sleeping is an important part of my life. Actually, I didn’t expect to even make it to the first bar because I was so tired, but once we got there it was like an adrenaline rush and I became the Energize bunny! I think it was just the excitement of actually seeing people and having something to do that kept me going. I met a lot of cool people and had an absolute blast. I’m not going to make a habit of doing the big, high-profile partying in Peace Corps, but I think events like that are really what keep a lot of people sane. It’s great to get away for a weekend and recharge your patience with Honduras.
Anyways, there were a lot of people in town and I think final calculations of PCVs in attendance at Noche de Fumadores was about 65 – 70 people. There are four Volunteers living in Santa Rosa and each hosted at least 2 or 3 people in their apartments. The remaining people we in a hotel right around the corner from Kat’s house.
It has become a tradition for me to go and get the “good beers” when I have gone to Santa Rosa overnight. The store that sells the “good beers” is remodeling and I was extremely dismayed to find that there were three HUGE coolers blocking the wee one that houses all the ice-cold Hoegarden, Leffe and Stella. Luckily, they like us and Kathryn has befriended them, so I didn’t think it would be too much to ask if they could do some moving around for me to get at the equivalent of beer heaven in Honduras. I think they figured out what we wanted … can’t help but notice the two gringas standing, staring longingly at the lovely beer cooler. I actually got really embarrassed when three men were called to help move the coolers. It took them a few minutes to get everything situated. Meanwhile, every other customer in the store is watching us wait for the moving of the cooler and then the smiles spread across our faces as the beers are handed over. My pena (shame) was quickly abated when we had the beers and sour cream and onion chips in Kathryn’s apartment. It’s kind of nice living in a world where such simple pleasures as good company and sour cream and onion chips become the highlight of your month and was monumental events in your life. Ok, that might be slightly exaggerated.
After that more people started trickling in and we began the shower process. As people rotated in the shower the others were getting ready and drinking the crappy Honduran (albeit slightly cheaper) beer. Really the point of this blog is not supposed to revolve around beer, but such is life…
So we get all pretty (pictures will be posted). It was really weird to see everyone formally dressed. I’ve seen people in my training group dressed up for swearing – in, but I think people put more effort into Noche de Fumadores.
So, basically they had 400 tickets for this event; about 70 of those tickets were bought by Peace Corps Volunteers. We get there, and after getting out little tote-bags with 4 cigars, matches and a little sample of coffee, we’re shown to our tables. They put us outside on the balcony, very much separated from the rest of the people who were in the main room. You could look at this as they were purposefully trying to get us isolated from the event or they were doing us a favor by putting us outside and together. Either way, once the event got underway they actually gave us a nice shout-out, actually thanking all the Peace Corps Volunteers for their attendance. After the opening ceremony they opened the food line, which was my main focus at the time. They didn’t plan very well on the food front. Maybe they didn’t realize the all the PCVs would pointedly not eat dinner, knowing full well that there would be food at Noche and we could fill up there, since we already paid for it! We also were the first in line and as a result there wasn’t much food left for people who went later. Damn greedy Americans!
There was also free beer (crappy Honduran beer) and free wine (well, free in the sense that you had already paid out you’re a—and they had the courtesy not to charge you more inside). At one point I saw a friend (no names!) walking in with three beers and pointedly putting them down in front of her, making it very obvious that she had no intention of sharing.
Personally, I got excited about the CHEESE! Cheese here is terrible; would make the French weep with the bastardization of an art that they pride in. Nonetheless, the cheese here was decent and more varied that the high-sodium stuff I find in Corquin. I made several passes by that table…
Apart from the cheese I was also very attached to the dance floor. Don’t know what happened, but I took to dancing this past weekend. After a couple of beers and a lot of Friday nights spent alone at home, I wasn’t about to sit around! One of the early dance partners complimented me on my moves (I know he was being nice!) and that coupled with a little liquid courage had me out there all night! I had a blast just kind of making things up as I went along and pretending that I could dance Latin music. For the most part, I don’t think I was all that bad.
I think we actually left around 1 a.m. and a large group split off to find some more dancing places. Instead of going home I tried to find another place to hang out, but they tried to charge cover and that’s when I decided to go home. I have a thing against paying cover and I’m sure not going to start paying it here.
This is one of the main reasons I love Kathryn: the next morning we had bagels! She spent a weekend making dozens of bagels for her house guests! We had cinnamon and raisin, poppy seed and onion, chocolate chip and plain! And cream cheese! Drank coffee, ate bagels, chatted and some people popped some aspirin. I went to bed probably around 3 a.m. and woke up around 7 a.m. Couple of the girls woke-up at a god-awful hour because everyone is so used to waking-up early and then the traffic on the street was horrendously loud. During the carnivals here, they hire trucks to go around announcing things and for some reason they start at 5 a.m. I vaguely remember something loud passing by and Kathryn moaning, “I HATE HONDURAS!”
The adventurous people actually left the house at a decent hour to explore the day’s events, but a few of us stayed in a bit longer and just relaxed. Finally we did go out, eat and explore the coffee tasting. In the Central Park there were a whole bunch of local coffee producers that were giving coffee tastings and selling their wares. We walked around and enjoyed the music and nice weather. Great afternoon.
The partying was not yet completed! Apparently the night before wasn’t enough for us! Actually, one of the girls in Santa Rosa left for the States today (Monday). She finished her service and it’s tradition to have a huge party for the people leaving. Saturday night we all went out to a couple of bars and there was more dancing. I had a blast! Reminded me of times with Old Glory people, just with three times the people! I hardly knew any of the Volunteers who weren’t in my training group, but it was nice to meet people and hang out. I met two girls in the bathroom and here’s the normal conversation when meeting a PCV:
“Hey! (usually there’s no point asking if they’re with Peace Corps) what group are you?”
“I’m H14 Wat/San.”
“Oh, I’m H12 business. What’s your site? I’m in X…”
“Corquin.”
“OH! :insert here mention of sitemate or other people that reside near this site. Also, it’s common to spout-off other information you might know about this person, which usually comes from the rampant Peace Corps gossip chain. (RANDOM EXAMPLE: Oh! So you’re the one who got drunk in training and no one likes?: Obvious exaggeration…).”
And then you carry on. Actually, I ran into one PCV towards the end of the night and asked (in English) if he saw someone from our group. He must not have heard me, because he just whipped me onto the dance floor and then proceeded to talk to me in Spanish… I did the head-cocked, are you crazy look, before saying, “I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer … You bought me a shot earlier!!”
He was like, “OH! Whoops.”
I was really confused when he started speaking Spanish, although there are those Volunteers who are so intent on practicing their Spanish that they won’t speak English to you. I want to smack those people; this is the only time that I can speak English and you better believe I’m taking advantage of it! Snap out of it!!
Some people went out after that bar too, but about 4 am is my limit for being awake. I don’t know what happened to me this past weekend. I morphed into a rare form of Hannah … I don’t dance and I don’t generally like to stay out past 1 am. Sleeping is an important part of my life. Actually, I didn’t expect to even make it to the first bar because I was so tired, but once we got there it was like an adrenaline rush and I became the Energize bunny! I think it was just the excitement of actually seeing people and having something to do that kept me going. I met a lot of cool people and had an absolute blast. I’m not going to make a habit of doing the big, high-profile partying in Peace Corps, but I think events like that are really what keep a lot of people sane. It’s great to get away for a weekend and recharge your patience with Honduras.
Checking In
:So I wrote this last week thinking I would be on the internet sooner than I was, but I hope it still is somewhat interesting:
Today I had a lazy today. Nothing going on at work, so I decided to stay home and do some stuff around the house. I was supposed to get a ride to buy paint for my bedroom, but my ride never called me back. As a result, I spent the morning just kind of screwing around.
The house is really coming along. I overdosed on painting in the beginning, so just the kitchen and my bathroom have been painted thus far. The paint really improves the way the house looks, so I’m hoping I get a “second wind” and make the final push for my bedroom and the main room. I lay awake at night thinking about what colors I want to put in the rooms. It’s kind of fun and I wish I had more options for decorating; money is kind of limiting.
I’ve been lucky that the couple of girls in the area who are leaving have been generous and given me a few things. I’ve inherited a table, bookshelves (planks of wood and cinderblocks), and kitchen supplies, including: peanut butter (!) and a waffle-maker!! So excited.
I’ve actually kind of taken to sweeping; just sweeping. There’s always dust in the house and I sweep a couple of times a day, which I would never have done before. After the sweeping Hondurans like to mop, but that requires the hand-washing of the mop afterwards, which I don’t find too exciting. One “upside” to the number of bugs that seem to invade the house is that it encourages you to keep the place clean.
So, after doing some sweeping and casual cooking, I went up to the Post Office to pick up my packages. Grandma Jackie and Grandma Jerry both sent me packages with chocolate. After reading the lovely notes and indulging in a couple of pieces of chocolate, I have to admit I got pretty excited about the tins that the chocolate came in. This is what my life has become: I get excited about tins, because they are so multi-purpose! So many things can be put in tins to keep the bugs from invading them! HAH
So we have a lot of fun coming up. The local carnival (feria) in Santa Rosa starts Friday. You get dressed up and pay a set price for entrance and then get food, drinks and cigars for the night. I think there are about 50 Volunteers planning on going at this point! I’ll be seeing a few of my very close friends for the first time in 3 months and I’m extremely excited! The next night we’re doing an “apartment crawl” for one of the girl’s going away party.
After Santa Rosa I head to a week long training with Peace Corps, where again, I’ll be seeing a ton of people from my group that I haven’t seen in a while. After the training I will swing by Santa Barbara to pick up my PUPPY! I’m so stoked. I already have everything bought for him! I’ve been looking forward to this training since the day I finished training and I’m afraid that once it’s over I’ll have nothing to look forward too and I’ll get really sad.
On a sincerely sad note, my computer has taken a turn for the worse. Today we have had a problem staying on, which has proved to be a problem. The cord has cuts in it and I’ve noticed that the connection to the computer is even more fragile. The on/off button has now completely collapsed into the keyboard and it takes about 10 minutes to get the right spot to turn it on. The other day I had to bring my computer to a meeting with the coffee cooperative I’ve been working with and the Director of ODECO was making fun of me because it took so long to turn the computer on and then another millennium for the program to open up! I’ll be really sad when this computer goes. She’s always given me problems, but I’ve written a lot of papers on this computer, done a lot of online procrastinating! Also, how will I watch movies alone in my house at night or do yoga without my computer! JUST FOUR MORE MONTHS! Hang in there viejita!!
About this coffee cooperative I mentioned: This meeting was really interesting. In order for them to maintain their certification and increase their name in the area, they have to comply with a whole host of rules. For instance, before they cut down a tree for wood (even if it’s dead), they have to ask permission from the local government. Also, a lot of coffee farms have temporary housing for the workers that they hire during the coffee picking season. In order to a farm to maintain its membership in the cooperative they have to commit to making certain improvements to the houses each year so that the workers are safe and cared for. It was interesting because every few months an auditor comes and investigates a few farms and then holds a meeting about what the cooperative needs to work on to maintain its certification. It’s serious business.
My part in this is with the GPS. They need a map showing the area and GPS points of each coffee farm in the cooperative. For the auditor’s visit yesterday we just did a map with all the houses, but in the future I have to walk through EACH coffee farm to take points to get their area. There are forty members and some of them have more than one farm. We’re talking some major work here. I don’t like walking through coffee. It’s annoying. There are so many bugs and so many rashes that come from coffee farms. Arggghhh. Yet, its nice knowing there’s stuff to do.
There’s not too much else to talk about. Really hoping my computer stays in touch. She’s stayed on long enough to write this blog. Somebody should visit soon so A) I can see someone from home B) they can bring me one of those new little computers! HAH
Love everyone. Miss everyone. Thanks Grandmas for all the lovely packages and cards. I’m going to make a collage of all the beautiful cards I’ve gotten to put on my wall; add some interest to the bare walls. You get creative with decorating in the Peace Corps.
Honduras Ikea: cinderblocks, planks of wood, broom sticks and nails … that’s all you need to furnish a house! You’ll see in the pictures after I clean the house!
Today I had a lazy today. Nothing going on at work, so I decided to stay home and do some stuff around the house. I was supposed to get a ride to buy paint for my bedroom, but my ride never called me back. As a result, I spent the morning just kind of screwing around.
The house is really coming along. I overdosed on painting in the beginning, so just the kitchen and my bathroom have been painted thus far. The paint really improves the way the house looks, so I’m hoping I get a “second wind” and make the final push for my bedroom and the main room. I lay awake at night thinking about what colors I want to put in the rooms. It’s kind of fun and I wish I had more options for decorating; money is kind of limiting.
I’ve been lucky that the couple of girls in the area who are leaving have been generous and given me a few things. I’ve inherited a table, bookshelves (planks of wood and cinderblocks), and kitchen supplies, including: peanut butter (!) and a waffle-maker!! So excited.
I’ve actually kind of taken to sweeping; just sweeping. There’s always dust in the house and I sweep a couple of times a day, which I would never have done before. After the sweeping Hondurans like to mop, but that requires the hand-washing of the mop afterwards, which I don’t find too exciting. One “upside” to the number of bugs that seem to invade the house is that it encourages you to keep the place clean.
So, after doing some sweeping and casual cooking, I went up to the Post Office to pick up my packages. Grandma Jackie and Grandma Jerry both sent me packages with chocolate. After reading the lovely notes and indulging in a couple of pieces of chocolate, I have to admit I got pretty excited about the tins that the chocolate came in. This is what my life has become: I get excited about tins, because they are so multi-purpose! So many things can be put in tins to keep the bugs from invading them! HAH
So we have a lot of fun coming up. The local carnival (feria) in Santa Rosa starts Friday. You get dressed up and pay a set price for entrance and then get food, drinks and cigars for the night. I think there are about 50 Volunteers planning on going at this point! I’ll be seeing a few of my very close friends for the first time in 3 months and I’m extremely excited! The next night we’re doing an “apartment crawl” for one of the girl’s going away party.
After Santa Rosa I head to a week long training with Peace Corps, where again, I’ll be seeing a ton of people from my group that I haven’t seen in a while. After the training I will swing by Santa Barbara to pick up my PUPPY! I’m so stoked. I already have everything bought for him! I’ve been looking forward to this training since the day I finished training and I’m afraid that once it’s over I’ll have nothing to look forward too and I’ll get really sad.
On a sincerely sad note, my computer has taken a turn for the worse. Today we have had a problem staying on, which has proved to be a problem. The cord has cuts in it and I’ve noticed that the connection to the computer is even more fragile. The on/off button has now completely collapsed into the keyboard and it takes about 10 minutes to get the right spot to turn it on. The other day I had to bring my computer to a meeting with the coffee cooperative I’ve been working with and the Director of ODECO was making fun of me because it took so long to turn the computer on and then another millennium for the program to open up! I’ll be really sad when this computer goes. She’s always given me problems, but I’ve written a lot of papers on this computer, done a lot of online procrastinating! Also, how will I watch movies alone in my house at night or do yoga without my computer! JUST FOUR MORE MONTHS! Hang in there viejita!!
About this coffee cooperative I mentioned: This meeting was really interesting. In order for them to maintain their certification and increase their name in the area, they have to comply with a whole host of rules. For instance, before they cut down a tree for wood (even if it’s dead), they have to ask permission from the local government. Also, a lot of coffee farms have temporary housing for the workers that they hire during the coffee picking season. In order to a farm to maintain its membership in the cooperative they have to commit to making certain improvements to the houses each year so that the workers are safe and cared for. It was interesting because every few months an auditor comes and investigates a few farms and then holds a meeting about what the cooperative needs to work on to maintain its certification. It’s serious business.
My part in this is with the GPS. They need a map showing the area and GPS points of each coffee farm in the cooperative. For the auditor’s visit yesterday we just did a map with all the houses, but in the future I have to walk through EACH coffee farm to take points to get their area. There are forty members and some of them have more than one farm. We’re talking some major work here. I don’t like walking through coffee. It’s annoying. There are so many bugs and so many rashes that come from coffee farms. Arggghhh. Yet, its nice knowing there’s stuff to do.
There’s not too much else to talk about. Really hoping my computer stays in touch. She’s stayed on long enough to write this blog. Somebody should visit soon so A) I can see someone from home B) they can bring me one of those new little computers! HAH
Love everyone. Miss everyone. Thanks Grandmas for all the lovely packages and cards. I’m going to make a collage of all the beautiful cards I’ve gotten to put on my wall; add some interest to the bare walls. You get creative with decorating in the Peace Corps.
Honduras Ikea: cinderblocks, planks of wood, broom sticks and nails … that’s all you need to furnish a house! You’ll see in the pictures after I clean the house!
Friday, August 14, 2009
My First Official Topo Study
I am proud to say that I have started my first topographic study as a Wat/San Volunteer in Peace Corps Honduras!
Kathryn and I started the study in Quebraditas on Tuesday. This is a small town (aldea) 45 minutes outside of Santa Rosa de Copan. Quebraditas actually already has a water system, but it’s over 20 years old (they’re designed to last for 20 years, if well taken care of) and has a lot of problems. The town is organized and the president of the Junta de Agua, Tito, is a great guy and really does a lot of good for his community. Thus, it seemed like a good project to start with.
I headed up to Santa Rosa on Monday afternoon because Kathryn wanted to play around with the equipment before we started on Tuesday. Monday night we pull out the equipment and start fiddling with the different knobs and going over the steps of using a theodolite. I really hope the people of Quebraditas never read this blog (highly unlikely that they will), but if they were to read this blog they would probably think, “Sweet Jesus, these girls had no idea what they were doing!”
It’s kind of true. There are lots of different kinds of theodolites and it just so happens that we only learned on one kind almost two months ago. Needless to say, having only spent a couple of days with the equipment in the first place, after two months we were most certainly rusty.
Kathryn and I are standing in the kitchen and we can’t figure out nine of the ten knobs that are on this piece of equipment. Luckily, a couple in Gracias had the equipment before they gave it to us, so we called them up … casually asking them what the hell was going on.
Kathryn: “Hey there guys … so Hannah and I are fiddling with this theodolite and we, well, we um … we just don’t understand what’s going on.”
B & K were really nice about trying to explain what to do over the phone, but when you’re just standing in the kitchen it’s really hard to imagine all that you would be doing and what makes the most sense. We still couldn’t figure it out after like three calls.
“Screw it, I’m going to the top,” I declared as I whipped out my phone and called Carlos, one of the wonderful coordinators on the Wat/San team (can’t remember his real title). It’s like 7:30 pm at this point and Carlos answers really quiet, like he’d been sleeping.
“CARLOS! Weneedhelp.KathrynandIaredoingastudytomorrowandwecan’tfigureoutourequipment!!!”
“Can I call you back in a little bit,” says Carlos.
“Did I wake you up? Were you sleeping? I’m sorry.”
“No … I’m in a meeting and I can’t really talk right now…”
“OOOOH! Sorry. Yeah give me a call back, because we really need to figure this out and we have no idea what is going on.”
Carlos must think I’m crazy, because I only really call him when I’m desperate for help and I’m always overly dramatic and probably sound really squeaky. Oh well.
So we keep playing with the equipment and considering I don’t even really understand all the logic and mathematics behind topo studies (that’s a little extreme, but somewhat true), I got really annoyed pretty fast. I mean, give me international political theory any day, but start talking about angles and math and you might as well try to teach a dog this stuff. Kathryn, on the other hand, has an engineering degree and it took her an extra 10 minutes to stay “screw this.”
By the time Carlos calls back I’m cursing Carl (that’s the equipment’s name) and really starting to get anxious for our first day out there. He was distracted and on his way home, and not remembering exactly which theodolite we had, he couldn’t really help us.
Come bedtime (8:30 pm) Kathryn and I had decided to leave it up to the Wat/San and Honduras gods that be and hope for the best. Pretty risky I might say.
First Day
Bright eyed and bushy tailed (not really), Kathryn and I head out to Quebraditas. We pull into the community and are met by a band of men. Seriously, like 7 – 10 men are sitting their in their rubber boots with their machetes.
Sidenote: We’re in an aldea, which are really rural communities of already rural communities. These people work day and night to barely get by supporting their family and missing an entire day helping two gringas move their equipment about the jungle is a big sacrifice for them; finding that many men willing give up a day’s work in a small town like Quebraditas is really impressive.
Tito, the president of the JAA, meets us and explains the deal. These guys know where we’re going that day and he’ll meet us in the afternoon when he brings lunch. Luckily, we got a ride up closer to the toma (source of their water), because we were in for a rough day!
We hop out of the truck and try to break the ice with our band of men by introducing ourselves and being friendly. After lacing up our hiking boots and talking about our intended path for the day, we set off. Now, the men REFUSED to let us carry anything. We had our tripod, our estadia and Carl, and they would not let us put a finger on the equipment to walk it up the mountain. Come to think of it, I’m grateful for that because I barely made it up there just carrying my Nalgene. They tried to take Kathryn’s backpack, but she refused to let it go.
Now, if we’re going up to the source of their water, we’re not going on some weeny hike in rural Honduras. We’re going UP! Actually, I don’t think we hiked that long or that it was really that far, but man did I suffer. At one point, Kathryn stops to drink water and clarifies with the guys, “Hannah and I exercise every day, but we’re just not accustomed to this!” They politely laughed and carried on. And this is something that amazes me about the men here! Here I am, walking in my state-of-the-art hiking boots and they’ve got these flimsy little rubber boots on and they have more coordination and ability on these “trails” than I do. I just don’t get it; don’t the boots give me any kind of advantage??
We finally arrive at the toma and we try to focus on the equipment so we don’t look too incompetent. Well, I’m going to save us some face and say that we finally got started after … well maybe 45 minutes. I think we took our first shot around 11:30. I was really worried at first that we were still doing it wrong, but once Kathryn stopped wanting to kill me, she explained the process better and I kind of put together how exactly all this worked together.
That’s one thing … Kathryn and I got testy with each other. We’re really similar, which never really works in a stressful situation. She had a better idea what was going on than me, but she couldn’t really explain it very well and my brain heard angles and shut down. There were some short conversations, but all ended well!
It really is upsetting that most of you will never see a Honduran wield a machete. It’s fascinating and I think more than a few times I was caught with my jaw on the floor staring. One guy chopped down a sapling in almost two chops. And the machetes don’t look very reliable, but they could filet me in seconds. Once we told them that we would need estacas (little stakes), they disappeared into the jungle and in five minutes returned with enough stakes for the entire study.
We made very little progress the first day, but at least we made progress. As time passed we got more comfortable with our band of men and Carl. One of the kids started helping up level the tripod and Luis started to laugh when I would yell, “LUIS! Pone atencion! (Luis, pay attention!). Obviously we have to be as precise as possible and I’m looking through this scope to the estadia (big stick with measurements on it) and it’s waving in the wind, because Luis is too busy eating a snack and isn’t paying attention to the estadia. Luckily, I found it pretty entertaining and he did too.
On the way back down at the end of the day, the guys started correcting us on our Spanish. Turns out pala means shovel and palo means stick. Kathryn had been saying pala the entire day and no wonder they looked at her weird, because she was technically asking them to cut shovels …
Also, at the end of the day we were invited to Tito’s house to have some coffee. We had a little glass of coffee with some bread (did I mention how much I LOVE the coffee/bread combination?? Do you realize how much better bread products are when they’re dipped in bread?? Amazing). Tito is a great guy and his family is really great too. He has seven children and we met a few of the girls and they were so friendly and welcoming. It really just makes this whole experience so amazing.
The first day was pretty boring other than the incredible stress of thinking that you’re doing the whole thing wrong. The second day we kind of hit our stride and started moving a little more smoothly. I was disappointed that we had a different crew the second day, but the new guys warmed up to us in the end; they ended up staying with us two days in a row!
Other than that, there aren’t too many stories to tell. There were a couple of funny/entertaining moments.
For example: “Fijeseque (there is no English equivalent that accurately expresses all that this word can mean) instead of going the easy way for conduction line, we’ve decided to go up this CLIFF instead… hope that isn’t a problem for you…”
“Nah, don’t worry, there’s nothing like leveling a tripod on the side of a cliff. No, esta bien!”
This is when I made-out with the theodolite. While trying to take the front shot that was a good 6 meters higher than me, I had to turn the scope as vertical as was possible, which meant my face was pushed up against Carl. Not to mention, I had to make sure I didn’t move because I was standing on soil that Band Member #1 (Eligio) had just made into a platform just big enough to fit the tripod and not really me.
Now, remember there’s a Honduran standing holding the estadia for the front shot. Considering they’re not accustomed to thinking about how the study moves or the importance of the placement of the equipment and I’m not accustomed to taking that into the account …. When I get up to my front shot, I realize that he was standing in between two trees that they had chopped down (for no reason. They were a little machete happy.) and it was going to be really hard to fit the tripod in the space. That shot backwards was interesting. While trying to avoid “killer bees” that were escaping out of the felled foliage, I straddled a massive tree trunk, all while trying to be as precise as possible with Carl.
There were several points along this 3-day study (we’re not done yet), that the guys would say, “Oh, don’t touch that. It’s going to give you a terrible skin rash.” Or, “Oh, those big bees flying around your head … yeah, they’re like bees on steroids. It hurts A LOT when they sting. Maybe you should watch out …” We were in a pretty “tropical” looking forest. There were the bright plants that National Geographic tells you means they’re poisonous and things were really wet. Closest I’ll get to a rainforest for now.
After that shot we were served lunch. The first day Tito brought us our lunch, but the two days after that his family hauled it up to us. Women in Honduras don’t hike; they don’t think it’s fun and there’s no reason to go up into the mountains, so why do it? Well, after 20 minutes from Quebraditas to this ranch, you then have another 20 – 30 minute hike upwards, through coffee farms and jungle.
Menu (it’s ridiculous):
-Fried Chicken
-FRIED potato (like baked, but really fried whole)
-rice
-4 tortillas (saucer sized)
Could you eat more carbs??
The second day, after hearing how much we liked chicken soup, three of Tito’s daughters walked all the way up the mountain with a pot of soup, rice, tortillas, orange juice (homemade), coffee and bread (for later) … in flip flops. Chicken soup here is a special meal that most people make for Sundays. It includes carrots, potatoes, yucca, chicken and it’s really good. They put rice and (of course) tortillas in it too. God, how amazing is that that they did that for us? The oldest daughter had never been that far up before, and she did it just to bring us lunch. And they weren’t resentful either; they were really genuinely ok with walking a pot of soup up the mountain.
Hah, there was another change of route that day after lunch that had us going down another steep slope. We’re walking down and Kathryn is carrying the bag with the bread, coffee, and breakable china cups. She does the classic, feet-up-in-the-air, land hard on your butt and go careening down the mountain. There was a loud clink, but luckily the cups didn’t break.
Now this was my favorite meal, because I think it added pound #3 onto the total weight I gained in these five days:
-Fried chicken
-Spaghetti
-Fried potato
-SIX tortillas
-2 liters of Pepsi
I mean, could you ask for anything more glorious than that meal?? AHH!
Last story: So Copan is big coffee country and these fincas (farms) are everyone’s salary. The coffee is their life. Coffee is a major pain-in-my-@$$. We were going at our steady (albeit it kind of slow) pace and were considerably slowed down when we entered the coffee. The first few shots we tried to work with the gagillions of branches in the way, but the shots got considerably shorter and it took a lot longer to find the estadia/back shot. Noticing the change in pace, the guys started to fell coffee left and right. I mean, one minute you’re looking through the scope and in the time it takes you to stand up and try to find the estadia with your own eyes, the guys of have felled every little twig that might have posed a problem. They cut A LOT of coffee. Luckily, Tito had permission to do so.
Anyways, Kathryn was all concerned with the amount of vegetation these men had successfully slaughtered, and knowing how valuable the coffee is, was really distressed by the amount that they eliminated.
:Sound of machete hitting wood:
“OH! No, you really didn’t need to cut the huge branch off! I don’t want you to cut so much of the plants! No! STOP IT! I can see! AWWW man…” Meanwhile, I’m just standing their laughing, because Honduras has really decreased my concern for the environment. I mean, it’s not that I don’t care, but there are SO MUCH bigger problems in these people’s lives than saving a tree that’s in the way of them receiving running water. I think some variation of this conversation (one-sided) happened with each shot.
All in all it was a great experience and Kathryn is still my friend. I hope all of my studies work with communities that organized and willing to give of their time and meager resources to bring water to their communities. We worked with a great bunch of guys and Tito seems to be a great community leader. Not to mention his family, which fed us like kings (much to the dismay of my weight loss goal) and especially to his wife, who brought us our lunch all while toting her two youngest children.
We haven’t even come close to finishing and there are ninety houses in the conduction line, but I look forward to spending time in the community and being out in the tranquil, beautiful setting that is Honduras.
---
I wrote this blog about a week ago. I hope it is ok. Wednesday I went to the doctor because the rash that I had ALL OVER MY BODY (itches like crazy) hadn't cleared up and I'm not interested in getting some funky tropical disease. Anyways, turns out I was bit by fleas! I DON'T HAVE FLEAS!!! Just want to clear that up, but I did get bit and had an allergic reaction. Now I'm on medication. Great first experience! Haha
Kathryn and I started the study in Quebraditas on Tuesday. This is a small town (aldea) 45 minutes outside of Santa Rosa de Copan. Quebraditas actually already has a water system, but it’s over 20 years old (they’re designed to last for 20 years, if well taken care of) and has a lot of problems. The town is organized and the president of the Junta de Agua, Tito, is a great guy and really does a lot of good for his community. Thus, it seemed like a good project to start with.
I headed up to Santa Rosa on Monday afternoon because Kathryn wanted to play around with the equipment before we started on Tuesday. Monday night we pull out the equipment and start fiddling with the different knobs and going over the steps of using a theodolite. I really hope the people of Quebraditas never read this blog (highly unlikely that they will), but if they were to read this blog they would probably think, “Sweet Jesus, these girls had no idea what they were doing!”
It’s kind of true. There are lots of different kinds of theodolites and it just so happens that we only learned on one kind almost two months ago. Needless to say, having only spent a couple of days with the equipment in the first place, after two months we were most certainly rusty.
Kathryn and I are standing in the kitchen and we can’t figure out nine of the ten knobs that are on this piece of equipment. Luckily, a couple in Gracias had the equipment before they gave it to us, so we called them up … casually asking them what the hell was going on.
Kathryn: “Hey there guys … so Hannah and I are fiddling with this theodolite and we, well, we um … we just don’t understand what’s going on.”
B & K were really nice about trying to explain what to do over the phone, but when you’re just standing in the kitchen it’s really hard to imagine all that you would be doing and what makes the most sense. We still couldn’t figure it out after like three calls.
“Screw it, I’m going to the top,” I declared as I whipped out my phone and called Carlos, one of the wonderful coordinators on the Wat/San team (can’t remember his real title). It’s like 7:30 pm at this point and Carlos answers really quiet, like he’d been sleeping.
“CARLOS! Weneedhelp.KathrynandIaredoingastudytomorrowandwecan’tfigureoutourequipment!!!”
“Can I call you back in a little bit,” says Carlos.
“Did I wake you up? Were you sleeping? I’m sorry.”
“No … I’m in a meeting and I can’t really talk right now…”
“OOOOH! Sorry. Yeah give me a call back, because we really need to figure this out and we have no idea what is going on.”
Carlos must think I’m crazy, because I only really call him when I’m desperate for help and I’m always overly dramatic and probably sound really squeaky. Oh well.
So we keep playing with the equipment and considering I don’t even really understand all the logic and mathematics behind topo studies (that’s a little extreme, but somewhat true), I got really annoyed pretty fast. I mean, give me international political theory any day, but start talking about angles and math and you might as well try to teach a dog this stuff. Kathryn, on the other hand, has an engineering degree and it took her an extra 10 minutes to stay “screw this.”
By the time Carlos calls back I’m cursing Carl (that’s the equipment’s name) and really starting to get anxious for our first day out there. He was distracted and on his way home, and not remembering exactly which theodolite we had, he couldn’t really help us.
Come bedtime (8:30 pm) Kathryn and I had decided to leave it up to the Wat/San and Honduras gods that be and hope for the best. Pretty risky I might say.
First Day
Bright eyed and bushy tailed (not really), Kathryn and I head out to Quebraditas. We pull into the community and are met by a band of men. Seriously, like 7 – 10 men are sitting their in their rubber boots with their machetes.
Sidenote: We’re in an aldea, which are really rural communities of already rural communities. These people work day and night to barely get by supporting their family and missing an entire day helping two gringas move their equipment about the jungle is a big sacrifice for them; finding that many men willing give up a day’s work in a small town like Quebraditas is really impressive.
Tito, the president of the JAA, meets us and explains the deal. These guys know where we’re going that day and he’ll meet us in the afternoon when he brings lunch. Luckily, we got a ride up closer to the toma (source of their water), because we were in for a rough day!
We hop out of the truck and try to break the ice with our band of men by introducing ourselves and being friendly. After lacing up our hiking boots and talking about our intended path for the day, we set off. Now, the men REFUSED to let us carry anything. We had our tripod, our estadia and Carl, and they would not let us put a finger on the equipment to walk it up the mountain. Come to think of it, I’m grateful for that because I barely made it up there just carrying my Nalgene. They tried to take Kathryn’s backpack, but she refused to let it go.
Now, if we’re going up to the source of their water, we’re not going on some weeny hike in rural Honduras. We’re going UP! Actually, I don’t think we hiked that long or that it was really that far, but man did I suffer. At one point, Kathryn stops to drink water and clarifies with the guys, “Hannah and I exercise every day, but we’re just not accustomed to this!” They politely laughed and carried on. And this is something that amazes me about the men here! Here I am, walking in my state-of-the-art hiking boots and they’ve got these flimsy little rubber boots on and they have more coordination and ability on these “trails” than I do. I just don’t get it; don’t the boots give me any kind of advantage??
We finally arrive at the toma and we try to focus on the equipment so we don’t look too incompetent. Well, I’m going to save us some face and say that we finally got started after … well maybe 45 minutes. I think we took our first shot around 11:30. I was really worried at first that we were still doing it wrong, but once Kathryn stopped wanting to kill me, she explained the process better and I kind of put together how exactly all this worked together.
That’s one thing … Kathryn and I got testy with each other. We’re really similar, which never really works in a stressful situation. She had a better idea what was going on than me, but she couldn’t really explain it very well and my brain heard angles and shut down. There were some short conversations, but all ended well!
It really is upsetting that most of you will never see a Honduran wield a machete. It’s fascinating and I think more than a few times I was caught with my jaw on the floor staring. One guy chopped down a sapling in almost two chops. And the machetes don’t look very reliable, but they could filet me in seconds. Once we told them that we would need estacas (little stakes), they disappeared into the jungle and in five minutes returned with enough stakes for the entire study.
We made very little progress the first day, but at least we made progress. As time passed we got more comfortable with our band of men and Carl. One of the kids started helping up level the tripod and Luis started to laugh when I would yell, “LUIS! Pone atencion! (Luis, pay attention!). Obviously we have to be as precise as possible and I’m looking through this scope to the estadia (big stick with measurements on it) and it’s waving in the wind, because Luis is too busy eating a snack and isn’t paying attention to the estadia. Luckily, I found it pretty entertaining and he did too.
On the way back down at the end of the day, the guys started correcting us on our Spanish. Turns out pala means shovel and palo means stick. Kathryn had been saying pala the entire day and no wonder they looked at her weird, because she was technically asking them to cut shovels …
Also, at the end of the day we were invited to Tito’s house to have some coffee. We had a little glass of coffee with some bread (did I mention how much I LOVE the coffee/bread combination?? Do you realize how much better bread products are when they’re dipped in bread?? Amazing). Tito is a great guy and his family is really great too. He has seven children and we met a few of the girls and they were so friendly and welcoming. It really just makes this whole experience so amazing.
The first day was pretty boring other than the incredible stress of thinking that you’re doing the whole thing wrong. The second day we kind of hit our stride and started moving a little more smoothly. I was disappointed that we had a different crew the second day, but the new guys warmed up to us in the end; they ended up staying with us two days in a row!
Other than that, there aren’t too many stories to tell. There were a couple of funny/entertaining moments.
For example: “Fijeseque (there is no English equivalent that accurately expresses all that this word can mean) instead of going the easy way for conduction line, we’ve decided to go up this CLIFF instead… hope that isn’t a problem for you…”
“Nah, don’t worry, there’s nothing like leveling a tripod on the side of a cliff. No, esta bien!”
This is when I made-out with the theodolite. While trying to take the front shot that was a good 6 meters higher than me, I had to turn the scope as vertical as was possible, which meant my face was pushed up against Carl. Not to mention, I had to make sure I didn’t move because I was standing on soil that Band Member #1 (Eligio) had just made into a platform just big enough to fit the tripod and not really me.
Now, remember there’s a Honduran standing holding the estadia for the front shot. Considering they’re not accustomed to thinking about how the study moves or the importance of the placement of the equipment and I’m not accustomed to taking that into the account …. When I get up to my front shot, I realize that he was standing in between two trees that they had chopped down (for no reason. They were a little machete happy.) and it was going to be really hard to fit the tripod in the space. That shot backwards was interesting. While trying to avoid “killer bees” that were escaping out of the felled foliage, I straddled a massive tree trunk, all while trying to be as precise as possible with Carl.
There were several points along this 3-day study (we’re not done yet), that the guys would say, “Oh, don’t touch that. It’s going to give you a terrible skin rash.” Or, “Oh, those big bees flying around your head … yeah, they’re like bees on steroids. It hurts A LOT when they sting. Maybe you should watch out …” We were in a pretty “tropical” looking forest. There were the bright plants that National Geographic tells you means they’re poisonous and things were really wet. Closest I’ll get to a rainforest for now.
After that shot we were served lunch. The first day Tito brought us our lunch, but the two days after that his family hauled it up to us. Women in Honduras don’t hike; they don’t think it’s fun and there’s no reason to go up into the mountains, so why do it? Well, after 20 minutes from Quebraditas to this ranch, you then have another 20 – 30 minute hike upwards, through coffee farms and jungle.
Menu (it’s ridiculous):
-Fried Chicken
-FRIED potato (like baked, but really fried whole)
-rice
-4 tortillas (saucer sized)
Could you eat more carbs??
The second day, after hearing how much we liked chicken soup, three of Tito’s daughters walked all the way up the mountain with a pot of soup, rice, tortillas, orange juice (homemade), coffee and bread (for later) … in flip flops. Chicken soup here is a special meal that most people make for Sundays. It includes carrots, potatoes, yucca, chicken and it’s really good. They put rice and (of course) tortillas in it too. God, how amazing is that that they did that for us? The oldest daughter had never been that far up before, and she did it just to bring us lunch. And they weren’t resentful either; they were really genuinely ok with walking a pot of soup up the mountain.
Hah, there was another change of route that day after lunch that had us going down another steep slope. We’re walking down and Kathryn is carrying the bag with the bread, coffee, and breakable china cups. She does the classic, feet-up-in-the-air, land hard on your butt and go careening down the mountain. There was a loud clink, but luckily the cups didn’t break.
Now this was my favorite meal, because I think it added pound #3 onto the total weight I gained in these five days:
-Fried chicken
-Spaghetti
-Fried potato
-SIX tortillas
-2 liters of Pepsi
I mean, could you ask for anything more glorious than that meal?? AHH!
Last story: So Copan is big coffee country and these fincas (farms) are everyone’s salary. The coffee is their life. Coffee is a major pain-in-my-@$$. We were going at our steady (albeit it kind of slow) pace and were considerably slowed down when we entered the coffee. The first few shots we tried to work with the gagillions of branches in the way, but the shots got considerably shorter and it took a lot longer to find the estadia/back shot. Noticing the change in pace, the guys started to fell coffee left and right. I mean, one minute you’re looking through the scope and in the time it takes you to stand up and try to find the estadia with your own eyes, the guys of have felled every little twig that might have posed a problem. They cut A LOT of coffee. Luckily, Tito had permission to do so.
Anyways, Kathryn was all concerned with the amount of vegetation these men had successfully slaughtered, and knowing how valuable the coffee is, was really distressed by the amount that they eliminated.
:Sound of machete hitting wood:
“OH! No, you really didn’t need to cut the huge branch off! I don’t want you to cut so much of the plants! No! STOP IT! I can see! AWWW man…” Meanwhile, I’m just standing their laughing, because Honduras has really decreased my concern for the environment. I mean, it’s not that I don’t care, but there are SO MUCH bigger problems in these people’s lives than saving a tree that’s in the way of them receiving running water. I think some variation of this conversation (one-sided) happened with each shot.
All in all it was a great experience and Kathryn is still my friend. I hope all of my studies work with communities that organized and willing to give of their time and meager resources to bring water to their communities. We worked with a great bunch of guys and Tito seems to be a great community leader. Not to mention his family, which fed us like kings (much to the dismay of my weight loss goal) and especially to his wife, who brought us our lunch all while toting her two youngest children.
We haven’t even come close to finishing and there are ninety houses in the conduction line, but I look forward to spending time in the community and being out in the tranquil, beautiful setting that is Honduras.
---
I wrote this blog about a week ago. I hope it is ok. Wednesday I went to the doctor because the rash that I had ALL OVER MY BODY (itches like crazy) hadn't cleared up and I'm not interested in getting some funky tropical disease. Anyways, turns out I was bit by fleas! I DON'T HAVE FLEAS!!! Just want to clear that up, but I did get bit and had an allergic reaction. Now I'm on medication. Great first experience! Haha
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Adventures on El Tenan
I know a few of us are starting to feel cooped up in site. For the newbies, we’re here (in site) every day, most likely only working a few days out of the week. For those who have moved to their own houses/apartments, a lot of pent-up energy can be spent buying things and improving their living space. For those of us who are still living with host families and feeling a little bit more “monitored,” the idea of staying in the house all weekend is almost unbearable. There isn’t much to do in Corquin on the weekends. During the day many people still have a lot of duties, but seeing as how I don’t have a house or a family there isn’t too much I’m committed to doing.
Point is I wanted something to do Saturday and OH did I find something to do. Kristyn and I went to hike a “peak” nearby Corquin. Kristyn did Educatodos in this aldea nearby and had always wanted to hike to the top. Not really knowing what we were getting ourselves into, we headed up to the aldea around 6:30 am. Unbeknownst to me, to get to the aldea is about 1 hour by car, and (more likely) walking about 2 hours.
Aldea: rural communities outside the more “urban” towns. Corquin is an urban town. I will do most of my work in aldeas because these are the communities that don’t have water, etc.
Jalon: Basically hitchhiking, but there it’s much more common here. For people who live in aldeas 2 hours away from any sort of stores, markets, there is always one person in the town who has a pick-up truck. When that person goes “abajo” (down) then you’re going with him. Jalons are key to getting to these more rural areas.
So Kristyn and I start walking, waiting to see if anyone will drive by and give us a lift. After a little while a pick-up stops, and Kristyn goes to climb in the front seat. As she starts to climb in, the driver picks up a small pistol and puts it in his lap. This is common, but it still kind of shocks when I see guns so proudly displayed.
The driver gives us a lift part way, and we ended up walking the rest of the way. I think it probably took us 1.5 hours. So, we were relying on being able to see the peak to guide us towards it, but there was a lot of cloud cover and we couldn’t see it at all. This resulted is us taking a lot of wrong turns and having to ask a lot of people for directions. A few people asked what we were up to (there aren’t too many gringas wandering around those parts) and we said we were hiking El Tenan. More than a few times we got the, “You’re crazy” look.
So after a few wrong turns and a lot of stares we finally arrived at the house of a woman Kristyn kind of knew. One Christmas, apparently they baked cookies together, and this woman mentioned that you can reach El Tenan from her husband’s finca. Random.
Finca: Farm. Usually finca refers to the coffee “plantations.”
So we walk up to this house, and luckily the woman recognized Kristyn. We tried to politely ask if she could point us in the right direction, but you always have to visit and a visit usually includes polite chat and attempts to feed you. It’s really understandable though, because a lot of these women are locked up in the house all day. Their husbands’ go to work at 5 – 6 a.m. usually the children go to if they’re old enough. The arrival of two American girls is pretty exciting. So we’re talking to Goita (I think that’s her name) about our plans and she insists on taking us to some other houses where there are kids who will guide us up to the top.
Meanwhile, we’re sitting in her house, and having refused any food she made us some “juice.” She goes into another room and brings out a 2 liter cook bottle full of yellowish liquid. My initial reaction, honestly, was it looked like pee. Now as we’re watching her prepare these drinks we’re talking about their water situation. Apparently, she has to go get water from a water source because a tube is broken. We watch her as she pours water out of two jugs (like the ones milk comes in).
No joke … this is how this whole scenario goes down (probably has more significance for me than the readers, but oh well.)
Goita hands the drinks to us. Oh, and the yellow liquid was honey. The juice was honey and water.
Drinks in hand, Kristyn says, “There you go Hannah, the tubes are broken. Work!”
We start politely sipping on the drinks, talking about the view and stuff. While we sit there, Goita starts closing up the house. It probably took her 30 minutes. She had to straighten everything, shut the windows, and also fix herself up. I thought she looked respectable, but we have different standards apparently. She changed her clothes and took her apron off; put different shoes on. Then, she gets a little bowl and goes to the water jugs (where our water came from) and poured a little bit into the bowl. She then disappears into a room and you hear splashing sounds.
Now I’m going to explain my thinking so that you can better understand the culture, and more so the situation. People here don’t waste anything nor do they waste their effort. If a woman were to boil 4 gallons of water, said boiled water would not, then, be used to wet her hair (this is what Goita did with the water, wet her hair so she could comb it). When Kristyn and I saw her take the water from the same jugs we immediately became panicked. We didn’t even question if the water had been boiled. And, here you can’t be sure that the people know to boil their water.
Here we are drinking water from unknown origins, not knowing if it’s purified, and we’re down to half a glass.
“Oh. Shit. Where did that water come from?”
“Why didn’t we think of that?!”
“We are so screwed. We’ve got E. Coli now.”
“Don’t say that. Oh God.”
Now, you might think this is a little dramatic, but it’s really not. I’m one of the few people in my group who hasn’t yet had food poisoning, a parasite or E. Coli. This is a real threat and it’s a nasty 3 – 7 days puking/shitting into your host family’s toilet before heading to the Health Center in your town where they pump you full of weird IVs and don’t tell you what it is. I’ve heard the stories people!!
All I could think of was, “I have a semi-full week next week! I can’t be sick! I actually have work!” Not to mention, my stomach has been a little upset the past couple of days and I can’t really tell why. I feel like its already compromised and can’t protect itself from whatever bacteria that might have been introduced by that water.
We’re about ready to leave and Kristyn and I walk out of the house, where we dissolve into a somewhat frantic discussion about the likelihood of us having contracted some pretty funky bugs. I couldn’t help but notice that Goita had a skin infection all over her hands. After having given the “water quality” charla on Monday I couldn’t stop thinking about skin infections from water. I mean, this woman washes and cleans dishes in this water all day; it’s not entirely far-fetched! We walk around the back of the house and there is a corral for horses and then up on a slope there are about 10 cows. The odds are getting worse and worse.
Kristyn turns to me and says, “I’m going to ask her where that water came from!”
I’m not quite sure if Goita understood the question, and I really hope she didn’t, because she pointed to a trickle of water that ran, no joke!, practically through the cow pasture. I groaned, “Oh. My. God. POO WATER!”
But really, the main part of this story is really the generosity of Hondurans and the random situations you get yourself into when you leave your house at 6 am without the slightest clue of where you’re going.
Goita takes us to a nice house close by, where we talk to more women about our plans. We get more weird looks. They all insist that somebody guide us up there, and I can hear someone asking boys nearby to take us. We sit there, kind of awkwardly, waiting for the boys to get their things together. As we’re waiting they gave us a really nice apple, which was pretty exciting. All the apples here come from the States and they usually aren’t very good, but this one was crisp. Apples are costly here, and it was really nice of them to give us a piece.
So the boys are ready and we depart. I really don’t think they were very thrilled about having to climb a mountain because two white girls wandered through their house to climb said mountain for fun. We start walking and I tried to strike up a conversation, but they weren’t really having it. We started walking through the coffee trees and we got to a point where there was discussion about which path to take.
“Which way are we going?” says Boy 1.
Boy 2, “This way.”
Boy 1, “That’s really ugly…” And yet we continue on that path.
I wish I could convey how incredibly steep this hike was. It was so cloudy as we were walking to the aldea that I really couldn’t see exactly what we were going to hike. After we got down I was amazed at what we had done.
We only walked about an hour, which was less than the time it took to get up to the base of the mountain. These boys must have thought we were really lame. Here we are, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and we start climbing and I’m weezing and sweating profusely within minutes. Me, being the smart person I am, decided to wear shorts. Now in my defense, my legs are sickly pale compared to my arms AND I didn’t realize we’d be climbing on our knees through coffee trees and up sides of mountains.
These boys had rubber boots on (as you can see in the school pictures) and machetes. They hauled ass up that mountain as if they were walking up a small hill. Meanwhile, Kristyn and I are practically dying behind them. But, when we reached the top it was well worth it. We were definitely at the highest point and could see all over the valley. It was beautiful, and I’d like to tell you I brought my camera, but knowing that Kristyn was bringing hers, I didn’t. Kristyn whips out the camera and it barely functions. I don’t know if the pictures will come out. I suck at life.
We stayed up there for a little bit before heading back down. On our way down I couldn’t stop laughing because we were so lame. The boys, once again, gracefully walking as if it were a paved path while Kristyn practically spent the entire time on her butt. I’m really surprised they weren’t openly laughing at us at this point. They were nice kids.
We get to the bottom and decided we should pay them because we took a good chunk of their working day away. They refused the money and walked us to the main road, knowing that we had gotten lost a lot. We bid them a fond farewell, graciously thanking them for their time and started to waddle down the hill because our legs hurt so badly.
You’d think, after having gotten lost so much in the morning that we would have been more careful about where we went in the afternoon, but that was not the case. Kristyn, I thought, knew the area a little bit, and I blindly followed her. It would make sense that, after having been on the highest peak, that you would have to go DOWN to reach the town in the valley. Well, this thought occurred to us after the road consistently starting going upwards. Going up was painful and we’d been walking for an hour already when we stopped and asked a man if we were headed in the right direction. He tells us we have to turn around and walk all the way back to some intersection and then we will find the right road to Cucuyagua! ALL THE WAY BACK! I wanted to sit down in the road and cry.
We bravely walk all the way back, which took less time now that we were going downhill. Having run out of water, we stopped at a pulperia to get some.
Pulperia: Like 7-Eleven/Wawa, but in somebody’s house. Slightly smaller selection too…
We walk in to buy water and they don’t have any! This is what happens in the more rural areas. A) Why would you BUY water when you have it in your house? B) Why would you buy water when you could drink Coke or Pepsi? This is the mentality of the people in these areas. They just don’t have the education.
“When in Rome …”
So we buy Coke and chips and start walking again, laughing at how “integrated” we are. Truly Honduran when we forgo water and veggies for Coke and chips. After a little ways we get a jalon down to Cucuyagua, buy a couple of bottles of wine, shower, and go to Laura’s house to watch movies and rest. Only 7 hours wandering around/hiking`… I got the entertainment I was hoping for.
As we’re jaloning back to Corquin Kristyn looks at me and says, “So, would we be sick already if that water was bad?”
Point is I wanted something to do Saturday and OH did I find something to do. Kristyn and I went to hike a “peak” nearby Corquin. Kristyn did Educatodos in this aldea nearby and had always wanted to hike to the top. Not really knowing what we were getting ourselves into, we headed up to the aldea around 6:30 am. Unbeknownst to me, to get to the aldea is about 1 hour by car, and (more likely) walking about 2 hours.
Aldea: rural communities outside the more “urban” towns. Corquin is an urban town. I will do most of my work in aldeas because these are the communities that don’t have water, etc.
Jalon: Basically hitchhiking, but there it’s much more common here. For people who live in aldeas 2 hours away from any sort of stores, markets, there is always one person in the town who has a pick-up truck. When that person goes “abajo” (down) then you’re going with him. Jalons are key to getting to these more rural areas.
So Kristyn and I start walking, waiting to see if anyone will drive by and give us a lift. After a little while a pick-up stops, and Kristyn goes to climb in the front seat. As she starts to climb in, the driver picks up a small pistol and puts it in his lap. This is common, but it still kind of shocks when I see guns so proudly displayed.
The driver gives us a lift part way, and we ended up walking the rest of the way. I think it probably took us 1.5 hours. So, we were relying on being able to see the peak to guide us towards it, but there was a lot of cloud cover and we couldn’t see it at all. This resulted is us taking a lot of wrong turns and having to ask a lot of people for directions. A few people asked what we were up to (there aren’t too many gringas wandering around those parts) and we said we were hiking El Tenan. More than a few times we got the, “You’re crazy” look.
So after a few wrong turns and a lot of stares we finally arrived at the house of a woman Kristyn kind of knew. One Christmas, apparently they baked cookies together, and this woman mentioned that you can reach El Tenan from her husband’s finca. Random.
Finca: Farm. Usually finca refers to the coffee “plantations.”
So we walk up to this house, and luckily the woman recognized Kristyn. We tried to politely ask if she could point us in the right direction, but you always have to visit and a visit usually includes polite chat and attempts to feed you. It’s really understandable though, because a lot of these women are locked up in the house all day. Their husbands’ go to work at 5 – 6 a.m. usually the children go to if they’re old enough. The arrival of two American girls is pretty exciting. So we’re talking to Goita (I think that’s her name) about our plans and she insists on taking us to some other houses where there are kids who will guide us up to the top.
Meanwhile, we’re sitting in her house, and having refused any food she made us some “juice.” She goes into another room and brings out a 2 liter cook bottle full of yellowish liquid. My initial reaction, honestly, was it looked like pee. Now as we’re watching her prepare these drinks we’re talking about their water situation. Apparently, she has to go get water from a water source because a tube is broken. We watch her as she pours water out of two jugs (like the ones milk comes in).
No joke … this is how this whole scenario goes down (probably has more significance for me than the readers, but oh well.)
Goita hands the drinks to us. Oh, and the yellow liquid was honey. The juice was honey and water.
Drinks in hand, Kristyn says, “There you go Hannah, the tubes are broken. Work!”
We start politely sipping on the drinks, talking about the view and stuff. While we sit there, Goita starts closing up the house. It probably took her 30 minutes. She had to straighten everything, shut the windows, and also fix herself up. I thought she looked respectable, but we have different standards apparently. She changed her clothes and took her apron off; put different shoes on. Then, she gets a little bowl and goes to the water jugs (where our water came from) and poured a little bit into the bowl. She then disappears into a room and you hear splashing sounds.
Now I’m going to explain my thinking so that you can better understand the culture, and more so the situation. People here don’t waste anything nor do they waste their effort. If a woman were to boil 4 gallons of water, said boiled water would not, then, be used to wet her hair (this is what Goita did with the water, wet her hair so she could comb it). When Kristyn and I saw her take the water from the same jugs we immediately became panicked. We didn’t even question if the water had been boiled. And, here you can’t be sure that the people know to boil their water.
Here we are drinking water from unknown origins, not knowing if it’s purified, and we’re down to half a glass.
“Oh. Shit. Where did that water come from?”
“Why didn’t we think of that?!”
“We are so screwed. We’ve got E. Coli now.”
“Don’t say that. Oh God.”
Now, you might think this is a little dramatic, but it’s really not. I’m one of the few people in my group who hasn’t yet had food poisoning, a parasite or E. Coli. This is a real threat and it’s a nasty 3 – 7 days puking/shitting into your host family’s toilet before heading to the Health Center in your town where they pump you full of weird IVs and don’t tell you what it is. I’ve heard the stories people!!
All I could think of was, “I have a semi-full week next week! I can’t be sick! I actually have work!” Not to mention, my stomach has been a little upset the past couple of days and I can’t really tell why. I feel like its already compromised and can’t protect itself from whatever bacteria that might have been introduced by that water.
We’re about ready to leave and Kristyn and I walk out of the house, where we dissolve into a somewhat frantic discussion about the likelihood of us having contracted some pretty funky bugs. I couldn’t help but notice that Goita had a skin infection all over her hands. After having given the “water quality” charla on Monday I couldn’t stop thinking about skin infections from water. I mean, this woman washes and cleans dishes in this water all day; it’s not entirely far-fetched! We walk around the back of the house and there is a corral for horses and then up on a slope there are about 10 cows. The odds are getting worse and worse.
Kristyn turns to me and says, “I’m going to ask her where that water came from!”
I’m not quite sure if Goita understood the question, and I really hope she didn’t, because she pointed to a trickle of water that ran, no joke!, practically through the cow pasture. I groaned, “Oh. My. God. POO WATER!”
But really, the main part of this story is really the generosity of Hondurans and the random situations you get yourself into when you leave your house at 6 am without the slightest clue of where you’re going.
Goita takes us to a nice house close by, where we talk to more women about our plans. We get more weird looks. They all insist that somebody guide us up there, and I can hear someone asking boys nearby to take us. We sit there, kind of awkwardly, waiting for the boys to get their things together. As we’re waiting they gave us a really nice apple, which was pretty exciting. All the apples here come from the States and they usually aren’t very good, but this one was crisp. Apples are costly here, and it was really nice of them to give us a piece.
So the boys are ready and we depart. I really don’t think they were very thrilled about having to climb a mountain because two white girls wandered through their house to climb said mountain for fun. We start walking and I tried to strike up a conversation, but they weren’t really having it. We started walking through the coffee trees and we got to a point where there was discussion about which path to take.
“Which way are we going?” says Boy 1.
Boy 2, “This way.”
Boy 1, “That’s really ugly…” And yet we continue on that path.
I wish I could convey how incredibly steep this hike was. It was so cloudy as we were walking to the aldea that I really couldn’t see exactly what we were going to hike. After we got down I was amazed at what we had done.
We only walked about an hour, which was less than the time it took to get up to the base of the mountain. These boys must have thought we were really lame. Here we are, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and we start climbing and I’m weezing and sweating profusely within minutes. Me, being the smart person I am, decided to wear shorts. Now in my defense, my legs are sickly pale compared to my arms AND I didn’t realize we’d be climbing on our knees through coffee trees and up sides of mountains.
These boys had rubber boots on (as you can see in the school pictures) and machetes. They hauled ass up that mountain as if they were walking up a small hill. Meanwhile, Kristyn and I are practically dying behind them. But, when we reached the top it was well worth it. We were definitely at the highest point and could see all over the valley. It was beautiful, and I’d like to tell you I brought my camera, but knowing that Kristyn was bringing hers, I didn’t. Kristyn whips out the camera and it barely functions. I don’t know if the pictures will come out. I suck at life.
We stayed up there for a little bit before heading back down. On our way down I couldn’t stop laughing because we were so lame. The boys, once again, gracefully walking as if it were a paved path while Kristyn practically spent the entire time on her butt. I’m really surprised they weren’t openly laughing at us at this point. They were nice kids.
We get to the bottom and decided we should pay them because we took a good chunk of their working day away. They refused the money and walked us to the main road, knowing that we had gotten lost a lot. We bid them a fond farewell, graciously thanking them for their time and started to waddle down the hill because our legs hurt so badly.
You’d think, after having gotten lost so much in the morning that we would have been more careful about where we went in the afternoon, but that was not the case. Kristyn, I thought, knew the area a little bit, and I blindly followed her. It would make sense that, after having been on the highest peak, that you would have to go DOWN to reach the town in the valley. Well, this thought occurred to us after the road consistently starting going upwards. Going up was painful and we’d been walking for an hour already when we stopped and asked a man if we were headed in the right direction. He tells us we have to turn around and walk all the way back to some intersection and then we will find the right road to Cucuyagua! ALL THE WAY BACK! I wanted to sit down in the road and cry.
We bravely walk all the way back, which took less time now that we were going downhill. Having run out of water, we stopped at a pulperia to get some.
Pulperia: Like 7-Eleven/Wawa, but in somebody’s house. Slightly smaller selection too…
We walk in to buy water and they don’t have any! This is what happens in the more rural areas. A) Why would you BUY water when you have it in your house? B) Why would you buy water when you could drink Coke or Pepsi? This is the mentality of the people in these areas. They just don’t have the education.
“When in Rome …”
So we buy Coke and chips and start walking again, laughing at how “integrated” we are. Truly Honduran when we forgo water and veggies for Coke and chips. After a little ways we get a jalon down to Cucuyagua, buy a couple of bottles of wine, shower, and go to Laura’s house to watch movies and rest. Only 7 hours wandering around/hiking`… I got the entertainment I was hoping for.
As we’re jaloning back to Corquin Kristyn looks at me and says, “So, would we be sick already if that water was bad?”
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Situation
So, maybe this is more for my own benefit than for the people reading. It's interesting to see how this political situation is affecting the amount of work we have. I'm excusing my lack of significant work, but also trying to understand what's going on.
Yesterday, I went with Cooperacion Espanola people to an aldea near Corquin to train them on health and their new water system. Both sides of the project were great to work with and I'm kind of disappointed I didn't have the opportunity to work with them earlier. Cooperacion is really organized and does a lot of work in the area, and after working really closely with a lesser organized Honduran development office I was pretty thrilled at their "organization." Also, on the part of the community, they were really motivated and seem like they're going to be responsible about their water system.
Actually, an "older" Volunteer did the study. He's done a few studies in my area that I've come across, and the communities are always very enthusiastic when they talk about him. He's since left, but I feel like he's haunting me!
"Do you know Engineer (they're formal) X??" they say with beaming faces.
"I know OF him, but I don't know him personally."
I feel a little inferior, because A) I'm a woman and I will never live-up to the fact he was/is male B)He just seemed to be great at getting to know communities and I'm still acquiring those skills. These are my own insecurities.
Anyways, the charla went all right. I was supposed to cover community health and how it relates to their water system. A lot of systems here are designed for the application of chlorine, but many of the communities don't use it because they don't follow instructions and put too much in. As a result, people complain about the smell/taste of the chlorine and they stop using it all together. People here still get a lot of diseases from their water because it isn't treated, and that's a really significant marker of a lack of development in a country. As a result, a lot of trainings with communities after their water systems are built revolve around chlorinating water and why they need to do these things.
Anyways, I had prepared a powerpoint (crazy, right!), but we didn't end up getting a projector and I just stood up and talked. This is never a good way to present, especially when the people don't know you/don't understand you very well. So I got a little disorganized and discouraged by that and didn't feel as great about the charla as I wanted too. I think they understood me, which is really all that matters, but I felt repetitive and really boring.
On the drive down from the community I was asking my companions how the political situation was affecting their work. They said that they have been directed to finish out their current projects, but the funding for future projects has been "frozen" until there is further word on the political situation. That seems to be the word with a lot of projects funded by foreign organizations/governments.
I was pretty surprised last week to hear that a local government in the area had stopped their projects purely because of the political situation, as they already had the funds. I thought that was interesting. What's the difference?
So I really need to push myself more. I need to make a more concerted effort to get to communities and be visible. Even if I'm not doing Wat/San work I will be visible in communities that might need water. If I get the word out then it will be easier to find projects. I can't wait for people to find me. I knew this all along, but I've got to put myself out there more, especially during this financial/political problem.
Thing is, unlike some of the other Wat/Saners, my counter-part doesn't focus on water. They're mostly agricultural projects, therefore they don't have anything to offer me themselves. What I should be doing, is going out with them and talking to people about their systems, their Juntas de Agua, and finding the problems and offering to help. This is my plan.
You know what I forgot? I am the first Wat/San Volunteer to be in this area for a while. There was Chris, but he was far away and only did a few studies out this direction. Amazing, he lived far away and had more work to do than I do, and I live right here. There's work, but because I'm a new Volunteer, people definitely need to know I'm here.
Yes, this is mostly me coaching myself, but it helps.
Yesterday, Carlos (one of the Wat/San bosses)sent out a couple of text messages asking us to respond to how the political situation is affecting our work...
"We'd like to know how this political situation is affecting your service. Are you safe? Rate High or Super busy. Challenges??"
Um ... Carlos? HELLO! Number One: I think it's unfair for the scale to only include HIGH or SUPER busy. I mean, that just makes me feel bad! There should be an option "Sitting Around With Your Thumbs Up Your Ass."
Challenges: NOBODY IS WORKING! I mean, people are working, but projects are only finishing and no one is interested on taking on new things right now. Add that to the difficulty of jumping on already started projects, and you've got a lovely mess of NO WORK!
My email to them, of course, was more polite, and I'm glad that they're inquiring. Sometimes I'm not sure that Peace Corps is really in tune to what's happening on the grass roots levels with us, but then they surprise you. They're usually just late on getting out. Actually, maybe this was prompted by FIVE Volunteers from my group leaving in the past week. Yes, FIVE!!! They're dropping like flies and it's really terrifying. I'm sad when anyone leaves, but I don't want my closer friends to go.
Well, these are the trials and tribulations of life during political instability. Actually, it's not really instability, but nonetheless things are definitely slower. Damn. Take care!
Yesterday, I went with Cooperacion Espanola people to an aldea near Corquin to train them on health and their new water system. Both sides of the project were great to work with and I'm kind of disappointed I didn't have the opportunity to work with them earlier. Cooperacion is really organized and does a lot of work in the area, and after working really closely with a lesser organized Honduran development office I was pretty thrilled at their "organization." Also, on the part of the community, they were really motivated and seem like they're going to be responsible about their water system.
Actually, an "older" Volunteer did the study. He's done a few studies in my area that I've come across, and the communities are always very enthusiastic when they talk about him. He's since left, but I feel like he's haunting me!
"Do you know Engineer (they're formal) X??" they say with beaming faces.
"I know OF him, but I don't know him personally."
I feel a little inferior, because A) I'm a woman and I will never live-up to the fact he was/is male B)He just seemed to be great at getting to know communities and I'm still acquiring those skills. These are my own insecurities.
Anyways, the charla went all right. I was supposed to cover community health and how it relates to their water system. A lot of systems here are designed for the application of chlorine, but many of the communities don't use it because they don't follow instructions and put too much in. As a result, people complain about the smell/taste of the chlorine and they stop using it all together. People here still get a lot of diseases from their water because it isn't treated, and that's a really significant marker of a lack of development in a country. As a result, a lot of trainings with communities after their water systems are built revolve around chlorinating water and why they need to do these things.
Anyways, I had prepared a powerpoint (crazy, right!), but we didn't end up getting a projector and I just stood up and talked. This is never a good way to present, especially when the people don't know you/don't understand you very well. So I got a little disorganized and discouraged by that and didn't feel as great about the charla as I wanted too. I think they understood me, which is really all that matters, but I felt repetitive and really boring.
On the drive down from the community I was asking my companions how the political situation was affecting their work. They said that they have been directed to finish out their current projects, but the funding for future projects has been "frozen" until there is further word on the political situation. That seems to be the word with a lot of projects funded by foreign organizations/governments.
I was pretty surprised last week to hear that a local government in the area had stopped their projects purely because of the political situation, as they already had the funds. I thought that was interesting. What's the difference?
So I really need to push myself more. I need to make a more concerted effort to get to communities and be visible. Even if I'm not doing Wat/San work I will be visible in communities that might need water. If I get the word out then it will be easier to find projects. I can't wait for people to find me. I knew this all along, but I've got to put myself out there more, especially during this financial/political problem.
Thing is, unlike some of the other Wat/Saners, my counter-part doesn't focus on water. They're mostly agricultural projects, therefore they don't have anything to offer me themselves. What I should be doing, is going out with them and talking to people about their systems, their Juntas de Agua, and finding the problems and offering to help. This is my plan.
You know what I forgot? I am the first Wat/San Volunteer to be in this area for a while. There was Chris, but he was far away and only did a few studies out this direction. Amazing, he lived far away and had more work to do than I do, and I live right here. There's work, but because I'm a new Volunteer, people definitely need to know I'm here.
Yes, this is mostly me coaching myself, but it helps.
Yesterday, Carlos (one of the Wat/San bosses)sent out a couple of text messages asking us to respond to how the political situation is affecting our work...
"We'd like to know how this political situation is affecting your service. Are you safe? Rate High or Super busy. Challenges??"
Um ... Carlos? HELLO! Number One: I think it's unfair for the scale to only include HIGH or SUPER busy. I mean, that just makes me feel bad! There should be an option "Sitting Around With Your Thumbs Up Your Ass."
Challenges: NOBODY IS WORKING! I mean, people are working, but projects are only finishing and no one is interested on taking on new things right now. Add that to the difficulty of jumping on already started projects, and you've got a lovely mess of NO WORK!
My email to them, of course, was more polite, and I'm glad that they're inquiring. Sometimes I'm not sure that Peace Corps is really in tune to what's happening on the grass roots levels with us, but then they surprise you. They're usually just late on getting out. Actually, maybe this was prompted by FIVE Volunteers from my group leaving in the past week. Yes, FIVE!!! They're dropping like flies and it's really terrifying. I'm sad when anyone leaves, but I don't want my closer friends to go.
Well, these are the trials and tribulations of life during political instability. Actually, it's not really instability, but nonetheless things are definitely slower. Damn. Take care!
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