Goooaaaaalllllllll!!!!!!!!!

Obviously the sport of soccer, or futbol, is very popular in Central America. Actually, soccer is pretty much popular anywhere outside of the United States. Paul has been taking us to his futbol games. He plays on a team for the church and they rent an hour at small arenas and play other local teams. Paul also plays on a “better” team that has uniforms and everything. I’m not sure how the leagues work, but I just have fun going with the other missionaries and cheering for our church team or our friends. It is also very fun to listen to the things the grown men say to the ref. or the players. We try and guess what they said and decide if it is something we should repeat or not.

There is a big stadium here in Comayagua and the home team, I think their name is Hispania, played against some other team from a different city. This was the real thing I was told. They are not the Honduras team, but they were national teams kind of like the L.A. Galaxy team. The only thing I could relate it to is baseball because I’m not sure how soccer leagues work. Anaheim has the Angels, L.A. has the Dodgers, and Comayagua has the Hispania. Anyways, we were on national Honduran television because we went to the stadium and the camera man came and zoomed in on us for a bit so we flashed the peace sign and shouted. The Comayagua team lost we think. I never found out the final score. I do remember it was tied 2 to 2, but we were not able to finish the game. You know why? It started raining. It was not the usual light rain we get, it was pouring and actually cold. We sat in it for a bit. Joy, a missionary from last year who just returned to teach again this year, came with us and knew from experience to bring a rain coat so I made quick friends with her and was able to sit under her coat. The crazy people on the other side of the stadium seemed to love the rain. They were cheering for the other team. When we first arrived at the stadium all stuffed into one cab, this group was outside chanting something. They looked like a gang. After we got our tickets, we walked all the way around to the other side.

“Why didn’t we just go in where we bought the tickets?” I inquired.

“Because that is where the gangs and bad people sit.” replied Paul.

He was right. We could see and hear them the whole time. They stood the whole time and chanted the whole time. They also clapped and did this funny running thing up and down the stadium. Whenever their team did something cool, they would run out of their seats, climb the fence to the field, and hang their feet over. The security had to go over and wave their little wands at them. They even threw fire crackers into the crowd. The side we sat on was very calm compared. Only one person climbed the fence when our team scored.

I also got to experience my first Aguazul bag. For some reason, drinks are put in bags here. Water in a bag, soda in a bag, juice in a bag, whatever. If it is liquid, they will put it in a baggy, stick a straw in, and knot it shut around the straw to drink. The Aguazul bags are sealed though because it is purified water. I would always manage to avoid drinking from a bag before, but I was very thirsty so I had not no choice to drink water from a bag. It is awkward. I had to rip off a corner of plastic with my teeth then squish the liquid into my mouth. It tasted like plastic. At least I was not thirsty anymore.

Anyways, once the rain got too hard, we had to leave. I almost fell in the mud trying to get into the cab. I had to sit my wet and muddy self on top of Briana then the cab drove over a boulder on the way home so we had to get out in the rain and help the cab driver remove the huge rock from his drive shaft. I was very happy when we made it home.

A very crazy week.

The first week was crazy. It was so hard, especially the first day. On my very first day, I had to send a kid to the principal’s office. My first graders are not used to being in school all day. They are used to coloring all day and only being at school for a few hours instead if from 7:10 a.m. until 2:10 p.m. They were so crazy by the end of the day, they were literally bouncing off the walls so I turned off the lights and had them put their heads down. One boy refused to and started making other children laugh in his defiance. If they find out they can walk all over me from day one, they will never stop so I sent him to Miss Norma to nip that behavior in the bud. That night though was the parents meeting. The parents run the show here. They pay big bucks to ave their children come learn English and they are treated more like clients than a source for the student’s learning. The parents came and started out asking basic questions to the first grade homeroom teacher Ms. Joline. I left to go meet the parents of my seventh graders, and I came back to angry scowls of loathing hate. The children went home and complained to their parents that the new white teacher was too strict and would not let them get their pencils or go to the bathroom. That is true in a sense, but not in the way they made it seem. They would not go to the bathroom. They would run around the school and get me in trouble with the other teachers. I tried to make it one at a time, but someone would take too long in the bathroom doing who knows what so the ones who actually do have to go start dancing and complain so I let them go and they go pee, but then don’t return etc etc so I just stopped letting them go by the end of the day because they would be able to go after school anyways. I stopped letting them go to their lockers to get stuff whenever they needed too because they would just hang out there in the back of the class and cause trouble. I do not speak Spanish and they are supposed to ask me things in English and I am only allowed to speak to them in English so they learn it. So when the children were asking me for their pencil, and I did not know what they wanted, they would get up out if their seat with out permission, then make distractions in the back of class so I said “No more going to your lockers.”
Well the parents were mad at me then one asked if I had any experience teaching.
“I have worked with children at my church with vacation Bible school and I volunteered at La Sierra Academy…” I answered.
“Well have you taught before?”
“I work with children quite a bit and…”
“Have you actually taught a class before?”
“Well you see, vacation Bible school…”
“Have you taught before?”
“No sir. I have not taught before. I am here as a missionary and volunteer.”
“Well I care more about my child’s education than yours.”
“O.K.”
That is when they started arguing in Spanish with Ms. Joline and I had to go get Miss Norma for her to do her diplomatic thing and smooth things over.
Even though I do not speak Spanish very well, I understood quite a bit of what they said. They said they feel their children have a disadvantage because I do not speak Spanish and I do not have experience. They basically do not want me to teach their children. Despite how they may feel, God put me here for a reason and we all have no choice, but for me to teach first grade. I have heard it is the hardest grade to teach from the other teachers and students missionaries and I understand why.
My week did get better as it progressed. The students are no longer turning their desks over and I actually have a voice by the end of the day. I don’t cry in the shower in the morning anymore at least. I’m sure I will again at some point. Maybe right before Christmas break when they get restless, but until then, I hope it is all as smooth as the California roads because that is the best I can hope for. I need prayers and patience. God is the only one who can get me through it and I hope he places many helpers in my path.
Karaleigh’s birthday was during the first week of school. She turned 21! Her party was nice break in the craziest week of my life. We went out to eat at a place called La Fonda’s then we went home and ate cake and opened presents. My birthday is coming up soon and I hope I have a big party with all my new helpful friends.
There is chapel every Friday and we all have take turns planning it. We basically sing songs then have a Bible story. Today was the creation story. The kids loved it though and we had so much fun. I think Friday’s are nice.

Haystacks are breaking new grounds.

So it turns out that haystacks are just American. Melissa, who is from England and Jamaica, has never heard of haystacks before and none of the people here in Comayagua have heard of them either. We had to change that. We searched high and low for Fritos and found none, so we settled for some tortilla chips which I actually prefer with my haystacks, but most people go for the Fritos. We invited our friends Alessandro, Paul, and Walter to our house for haystacks and we had to show them plus the Brit Melissa how to make them. I went first. I put down the chips, then rice, then beans, then lettuce, then tomato, then onions, then olives, then jalapeno, then best of all, the avocado. Whalla! Thus a haystack is made. If you have never had one before, it is a must! Sooo delicious. They loved it. In fact, they would not stop eating it, except for Walter who came across a jalapeno and asked for milk. We took our time in giving him soy milk because we liked watching a grown man suffer over one tiny jalapeno piece whilst a bunch of girls stacked them on. We called him a wimp. “Que es wimp?” He asked. We told Paul, who is fluent in English to explain to him, but Paul did not know that very common English slang so we just called him a baby. I think that was insulting enough. Paul returned the favor and brought us some corn tamales that were very delicious and some strange corn thing that I did not eat and here is why. It is a giant cob of corn with butter and parmesan cheese on it. Karaleigh and Briana took part in eating it. It was very messy, but tasty they said. It smelled like barf to me. I am glad we could share some culture with each other even it does smell like barf.

A beautiful hike

Today we went on a hike with the youth and pathfinders. We woke up bright and early and rode in the back of some church member’s truck to La Tres Iglesia and started out our hike. Some of the youth wanted something to eat so they went and got sweet bread. I tried to find fruit, but none was being sold at the little shop we went to. I can’t imagine going on a 14 kilometer hike with sweet bread and soda on your stomach. It was more like an uphill walk than a hike and it was not really the wilderness like I was expecting. There were houses lining the dirt road we traveled upon. It was definitely more rural than the city, but not the extreme hiking I was looking forward to. The youth are not in shape at all and they kept wanting to take rests. One particular place we rested was definitely worth it. It had these beautiful stone steps that led down to a stream. The crazy boys jumped in a pool of water and splashed about and tried to get some girls in. I think one girl got in. When we finally got to the “top,” we ended up at some lady’s house. She has a HUGE piece of property. She has donkeys, ponds/lakes full of fish, big cages with birds, many dogs, fields of corn, orchards of bananas, a forest of pines, and empty swimming pools. This woman also has a beautiful deck with a hammock I enjoyed very much. After we had worship and wandered around the jungle/forest (and almost got lost) for a few hours, I was able talk to her. I forgot her name, but she used to live in Loma Linda and knew exactly where I live. She also asked me when I became SDA. “A few years ago. Why?” I asked. “Because you have holes from where your ears have been pierced and you have a tattoo. You must have gotten those before you knew God.”

I did not mention that I got my tattoos after I became SDA and I put my earrings in at night so they don’t close up, but she told me that her son used to have a tattoo and she cried when she discovered it so he had surgery to have it removed. “You will have to explain that to God when you meet” she said. I have already met God because he lives in me. Plus my tattoos are reminders to love Him and be like Him so boo on her theories. Well I guess she is entitled to her opinion, but still. I do not like people telling me about how God must feel about me based on anything physical.
We played the balloon game when we came back from romping in the jungle. This game is very fun. I played it at Margie’s and Cathy’s birthday party. People blow up balloons and tie them to their ankle. They have to keep their balloon inflated while trying to pop other’s balloons. I was the third to last person to get their balloon popped. I almost won, but the girl snuck up behind me. Well she won fair and square, but I’m still sore about it. Speaking of sore, my hiking shoes are practically new so they gave me very bad blisters. In fact, they are not blisters at all. There is just not any skin left. I screamed in the showers so much when the water hit my pink and red layers of exposed skin. Ouch!
This hike did point out some needs in my church community that I think I want to focus on. The main one is the promiscuity of the youth. There is a huge love triangle going on. Nay. A love hexagon. There are people with babiend so whs from so ao hooked with so and so’s little sister after the little sister hooked up with so and so’s brother etc etc. There are promiscuous people at home, but there are also a lot more “Adventists” at home so percentage wise I think we are doing well. Here, 99% of the youth are promiscuous and that is the future of the church here in Honduras. The other missionaries and I are thinking about having a “girls” night at our house and just talking about what God wants out of us as Christian women and how to respect ourselves. Hopefully we can have a positive affect on them and be an inspiration the youth back home.
It was an over all great day. Especially hitch hiking down the mountain. That was very fun. I love Honduras 

Pretty Awesome Sabbath

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August 22, 2009

Today was a very fun Sabbath. I was asked a few days ago to sing for Sabbath school at the church so I asked Paul if he could accompany me with his guitar. He agreed, but we did not get around to practicing until Friday evening after Bible study. Ya know, typical Honduran style of getting things done. Bible study was in some person’s yard a block or so from the church. Since it was already night fall (The sun sets here at like 6:30 p.m. every day), there was no light except for a work light hung from the laundry line. People showed up in groups of two or three and somehow more chairs appeared out of no where. I mean really. Some guy would pop around the corner of a house with a stack of plastic lawn chairs, which they use in the church, plop them down, then disappear and suddenly do it again. Anyways, it was very long. They asked me to pray so I prayed for about 15-30 seconds thinking that was sufficient because it was a group thing not an individual prayer. I was wrong. They had also asked a few others to pray after me and they prayed for about five minutes each. People pray here very often and for very long. After the prayer, they asked each other what their joys and sorrows had been that week. When they got to me, I said my joy was being accepted into a new church family so readily. Instead of leaving the missionaries at home to fend for ourselves, they have invited us many places with them and have made us get involved in their church and lives. I appreciate that. I did not share any sorrows because I am not one for airing my dirty laundry. We also played a fun Bible game. A person has to choose a Bible character then gives clues as to who they are then whoever guesses gets a turn to choose. I chose Esther and everyone guessed right away. I had trouble guessing many of the other characters. I remember the story, but not the names. I need to read my Bible more often. After Bible study, I brought down some music and guitar chords I packed with me in case I could get my hands on a guitar. I chose “Grace Flows Down” to sing for Sabbath and ran through it a few times.

This morning, I was so nervous that I was breathing heavy while walking to the church. Since there is a wedding this evening, we had to have church in a different building because the regular church building is all decorated. I sang during Sabbath school right before they broke off into small groups. Everyone enjoyed it. I am happy I was able to share my passion with them. It is sad to say, but no one has a good voice at that church so I am hoping it was a blessing for them to hear someone with a half way decent voice for a change.

Since Paul was preaching at a different church, he wanted us missionaries to go hear him so we all piled in a car and went down some dirt road to the Iglesia Tres Camino. Paul enjoyed our duet so much, that he asked me to sing again at this church right before he preached. It was fun and the people really seemed to enjoy it. One thing that is very weird is the lack of musical talent here. In the churches, there are no instruments at all. They play recordings from iTunes for the hymns and so forth. If there is no music for a song they want to sing, they sing it A cappella and poorly at that. I guess the schools do not have enough money to have professional music teachers come in and start bands or music programs. The locals probably do not have enough money to pay for lessons or even an instrument itself. Paul is not from Comayagua, but from the islands so he must have a different story behind his talent and money.

After church, we were invited to Yavonnia’s home for lunch. She made pizza, salad, plantain chips, beets, and beans. Since I am vegan, I just kind of loaded my plate with all the yummy vegetables and beans and avoided the pizza with out the lady of the house noticing. The others ate plenty of the pizza, however, so she probably never knew. The rest of the day was spent on her back porch vegging out on her hammock or trying to calm down her crazy daughter Naomi. This child is insane. She changed out of her church dress into a lime green swimsuit and they do not even have a pool. She brought down her stuffed giraffe and made it attack you. It was fun, but strange. Naomi also loves bubbles. She is not very good at blowing them so she just got the floor all wet with soapy water. Yavonnia had to leave so we were just left at her house with Paul and the kids. We cleaned up the kitchen for her then left with Paul because it was already dark and we did not know our way home. It is very late now and I am tired, but it was a pleasant Sabbath. I have to get up early tomorrow because the people from Iglesia Tres Camino have invited us for a nice Honduran hike starting at 7:00 a.m. and I am very excited.

Hurry Up and Wait

If an American ever travels outside the states, which I hope they do, they will soon find out the fast paced lifestyle by the clock is pretty much just an American thing. Here in Honduras, nothing is ever sure in the future. The only that is definite is what is presently happening. Take Paul for instance. He has been invited over to our house for dinner twice and both times he failed to show up with no excuse or phone call. He also says to be ready for pick on futbol night at 6:15 p.m. sharp, but he does not show up until 7:00 p.m.. The administration at the school has been doing this as well. They tell us to be at the school at 7:00 a.m. and we end up sitting around for three hours before we actually meet with anyone. Once we do meet, they tell us that they do not know what grades we are teaching yet so we can go home. It sounds frustrating, but it is really not for some reason. We are getting kind of used to it. We find things to do with our time. The other night we went to the futbol game for the church team. We all had to pile in one car so I had to lay on top of everyone. We also played basketball at the school. It was supposed to be volley ball, but no one could find the ball so we ended up playing basketball. Karolie, a tall girl from Walla Walla, just happened to play on the other team so she creamed us. I mean literally. She toppled over Melissa and gave her a few scrapes then pushed over Briana and gave her a big pussing (hope I spelled that correctly) ouchy.
I scored a few points myself and managed to survive the game with only one gouge from another players nails.
Today, we actually found out what grades we are teaching finally. I am teaching first grade math, science, and Bible all in English and seventh grade Literature. We received our books and then started planning our classes because we start teaching August 31 which is Joe's 22nd birthday. I got him a three wolf moon shirt. If you know what that is then I pity you. I am very scared, however, of having the responsibility of having so many children depend on me for their education. If I fail, then they fail and I can not let that happen.
I am also discovering the reason behind ugly teacher shoes. The reason most of my teachers wore ugly shoes or sandals with socks is for comfort. Who knew? I thought it was just the wages or lack there of they received. Turns out that walking to school everyday while carrying heavy books and standing for long periods of time requires something comfortable on your feet. I look like a school teacher complete with the ugly shoes and that scares me more than having to teach.
At least I get to feel young at the futbol games. Oh Si Pappa!

New Friends

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August 16, 2009

This morning Melissa and I just cleaned. We swept the floors and found more dirt than we wanted to. We mopped and the mop heads were black by the end. We scrubbed the toilets and discovered we were not imagining those strange smells. I just guess a house gets that way after no one has lived in it for a few months. We also washed some laundry and hung it to dry. The trash situation is strange. We have trash accumulating, but we have no idea what to do with it. I have just been putting it on the front porch until we figure out what day it is picked up or of it has to be brought to a dumpster somewhere. As I took the trash out today, I noticed something big and slimy behind another bag. It made me jump at first, but then I realized it was just a bull frog. There are a lot of lizards and frogs around here which I do not mind because they eat the insects including spiders! Yay for lizards and frogs!

After cleaning up, we decided to see if the internet cafe was open. As we were walking to the boulevard, Pastor Roy drove by and told us that since it was Sunday and most people around there are Catholic, the only café open would be at the Premier Mall down town. We took a taxi which is twenty lemps anywhere in Comayagua. It turns out that there is a military base down that shares half of the base with the U.S. so there are military personal from every branch including the Navy walking around on the weekends. We met a nurse in the Airforce named Ronnie and her Filipino friend Dennis who is also in the Airforce, but he works with computers.

As we were leaving the mall, we saw two obviously American men so we started talking to them. They were both in the Navy. One was a Luitenet named Anthony from San Diego and the other is from Indiana and named Roberts. We talked for a while then met up with Anthony’s Honduran girlfriend he met at a bar. We all went to lunch together and had the worst lunch of our lives.

Mel and I had ordered the rice noodles with curry. This dish usually comes with shell fish, but we asked for tofu instead of shell fish. Anthony is fluent is Spanish so he was able to order for us. When they brought oit our food decades later, it was just a plate of cooked tofu with seasoning and a topping on it, but no rice noodles or curry in sight. The topping reeked of meat. Anthony reassured us that he made it clear we did not want meat and Roberts said he did not think it smelled like meat so I went ahead and tried it. “That is defenetly meat” I said so the chef was called over. There was conversation back and forth then Anthony said “Yea, he put meat on it.”

“What kind of meat?” Melissa inquired.

“You don’t want to know” Anthony said.

We both knew he meant pork because we had just finished a conversation about how we were Adventist missionaries. “Hey you are those people who can’t do anything on Saturday or can’t eat pork huh.” This is what the conversation consisted of so when pork was given to us to eat, we were all very shocked. Who ever heard of tofu with pork sprinkled on top?

What was more upsetting to me, was when they whisked the food away and brought back a plate full of noodles of some sort, but they were definitely not rice noodles and there was definitely no curry. I would have inquired, but it would have made more trouble and who knows what I would have eaten by mistake next.

The chef is a little Chinese man who speaks broken Spanish so we figured that was the problem.

I do not, however, want to be known as the people who don’t do anything on Saturday and who can’t eat pork. I would rather be known as the people who love God and do something for the world and for each other. Both of the things people know us for, keeping the Sabbath in a negative way and limiting our diet of “good” food are both things that have nothing to do with the image we should want to project. People should say “Adventists huh? Hey aren’t you those people who keep God’s Sabbath, spread the Gospel, help the community, and try to be like Jesus?”

I would feel much more proud to be part of a community that has that reputation instead of the reputation that we are boring vegetable eaters.

When we got home, the other missionaries from Walla Walla were here. I already asked if they knew you Joe and they said no. They do know Brian and Ashley though. There names are Briana and Karolie. Briana was in England this past year. She also projected vomit on her plane ride over here. That was a lovely first story for her to tell us. We sat around the table and played card games and ate apples. We all start orientation tomorrow so all the free time will come to an end.

It rains every night here, but the rain came a little early today so the wash we had hung out to dry earlier today received a second wash from the Honduran rain service. Oh well. Someday I will get the hang of this stuff.

My First Sabbath

August 15, 2009

Today was my first Sabbath here. The service started at 9:00 a.m., but Melissa and I arrived fifteen minutes early. We figured it would look bad if we, as missionaries, showed up late on Sabbath. I helped my friend make a sign on the sanctuary wall out of masking tape and crepe paper. It read “Los Bodas del Esposo” and the lesson was the parable of the virgins that were supposed to hold the lamps at the wedding, but fell asleep. The women are very involved in the church here. The women ran the pre-service, were leaders in the Sabbath schools, and even led out during the main service. Males are involved as well, but not as much as the females. I find this fascinating for conservative Adventists. More “liberal” churches such as La Sierra have females as head pastors and Loma Linda has many females play a major role in the church. I have never seen a women give the sermon at Loma Linda, however. That would be a sight, but I’m sure many people would call and complain. I am happy that women have taken on leadership positions here in Honduras because that encourages young females in the community to get involved, feel important, and become educated to gain similar functions themselves. One of the first things a society needs to do to become more advanced economically and socially, as many would agree, is to uplift and educate the women while keeping their same cultural customs. Some customs, however, should not be excused just because it is part of someone’s culture. For instance, here in Honduras, many people find it acceptable to pick their nose in public then blow their nose onto the ground. That is not really harming anyone. It is just gross. People visiting can deal and adapt to that cultural difference so it is acceptable. On the other hand, if the Honduran people were engaging in much more dangerous customs such as rampant drug use or having sex at very early ages, those are customs that cannot be excused. Even if dangerous customs like these have become part of a culture, it does not mean it is alright. There is such a thing as having too much cultural relativism. Post modernism has led people to believe that if it is fine with the person engaging in it, then there is no problem. Accepting the gross booger problem would be experiencing cultural relativism, but accepting that there are eight year olds having sex or Adventist leaders doing drugs just because “it is part of the culture” is enabling the people and letting them continue because one is too afraid to spark change or offend someone. The job of a missionary is to create some sort of change because if everyone were peachy without missionaries, then what is the point of being one?
The entire service was in Spanish so my mind drifted quite a bit. We were surprised that we were not invited over to someone’s home for lunch. Maybe they felt weird with the language barrier, or perhaps they are too poor to feed two more mouths, but it felt strange either way to left high and dry our first Sabbath here.
After church, I showed Melissa the Cathedral and parks I discovered yesterday. She enjoyed them. We then took a walk down the other side of our street and discovered that it was a much more affluent area until you got too far down and then there was nothing but trees and more trees and quite a few drunk men so we hurried back to where we came from before we got into any trouble.
Vespers was supposed to start at 4:30, but no one showed up until 5:15. On the way to the church, Melissa almost got pick pocketed by a teen with a baby. I always hold my bag in front of me. Melissa will now too. The vespers was much more fun that the church service. We played Bible baseball. Someone from your team would say a Bible verse and move to first base. Someone from your same team has five seconds to get up and say a different Bible verse and move on to first base etc etc so when enough people have gone “up to bat” or said a Bible verse, your team member can run home and score a point. An inning lasts as long as team members can say verses every five seconds. Once a team strikes out, it is the other teams turn and score is kept of how many home runs have been made. It was pretty fun. My team won! … I think. They then asked people to come and share their favorite Bible verse and explain why it is your favorite. I chose Mark 16:8 because that is when Jesus rises from the dead and tells the women to go tell the disciples and Peter what they have seen. I like it because Peter is the one who denied Jesus three times a few nights before and was filled with regret and remorse for denying his savior. God knew this so when he rose from the dead, he wanted to show Peter he still loved him so he wanted the message to be relayed specially to Peter that their relationship and friendship had a second chance and that God had forgiven him. A young man named Edward was able to translate for me. The people always say amen after someone says something they like so they all said amen when I was finished and that made me happy 
The people are so nice and welcoming. They all say Feliz Semana once the sun goes down which means Happy week. That is a cool concept to me. I think I will bring that home to the states when I return.
I made friends with the cutest little girl. He name is Andrea and she is very sweet. Her mother and grandmother are very nice as well. Andrea’s grandmother let Melissa and I use her hymnal. I feel so blessed to be welcomed into a new church home despite the language barrier.
Two more missionaries come tomorrow from Walla Walla. There will finally be enough people for a proper card came. Mel and I have just been playing speed and slap jack. How lame.

Discovering Comayagua

August 14, 2009

Today has been the most interesting day so far. My morning was quite normal with the workout, breakfast, internet café etc, but I received a notice yesterday that one of the packages I sent with school supplies a few months ago has arrived. The post office closed by the time the school gave me the notice so I went today to pick it up. One of the girls I will be working with at the school, whose name I have forgotten, brought me there. I discovered so much more about Comayagua than what is just on the main street where I walk to get to the bank, store, school, and whatever. After I obtained my package and took it home, I grabbed my camera and went to where she had taken me. I first went to a beautiful Cathedral. This Cathedral is home to the oldest clock in all of the Americas. The inside is very extravagant and well preserved. The art is so beautiful, it almost made me cry. Then again, I cry about everything. I have always loved the faces in the Catholic paintings and art of Jesus Christ. His face is so mournful and solemn and sad. They really portray the suffering servant side of Jesus. Honduras, of course, is a very Catholic community so this church means a lot to them. There is currently a drive to raise money for renovations. I slipped a few bills in there even though I’m not Catholic, but I really like the art and extravagance. I just feel humbled, yet uplifted when I am in someplace that beautiful.

Another striking, yet morbid place just a few blocks away is the second oldest church built in the Americas and right outside is a town square where they used to hang people such as thieves, but mostly the indigenous Indians. This is just a folk tale to some of the younger people, but some older locals told me it was true. There a giant pillar to commemorate these events for some reason. I walked through a different street to get back to the Cathedral and discovered a guitar shop. The guitars were around 1,000 to 2,000 lemps. I wanted to get one because they are beautiful, but I did not want to make a hasty decision so I told the man I would be back.

While walking the square in front of the Cathedral, I noticed a man who looked like he could be American. He noticed me staring so he said “Hello!”

“Are you American?” I asked.

“Couldn’t you tell?”

He was right. Americans can spot other Americans from a mile away. His name is Calvin and he is teaching English with computers at a school named San Juan. He is not a missionary. He does this for money and easy living outside of the hustle and bustle we call society. Calvin is from Los Angeles and has been living in Honduras for two years and was talking to some students in the park. Carlos, who says the F-word like Tilk says indeed, is a student of Calvin’s. Carlos used to live in Boston and went to school there for two years before he got deported. He hates Spaniards, loves women with a little fat, and likes his mango with salt, Tabasco, and teriyaki sauce. It seems a lot of the indigenous people hate Spaniards. Carlos told me a story of a man from very rich and noble birth from Spain that was killed in Comayagua a few weeks ago. Supposedly he was married to a Honduran woman, but wanted a divorce. The Spaniard did not want to leave anything to his wife after the divorce so he put all of his property and assets in his name. A family member or someone of that sort to the wife shot and killed the Spaniard. The locals, according to Carlos, hid the killer and would not give up any info because they were glad a Spaniard died.

Another girl that was with them has a name that is pronounced Bellskey, but I have to idea how to spell that. I sat with them in the shade for a long time. They invited me to a night club, but I explained to them I am a missionary and engaging in said behavior would result in trouble for myself, La Sierra, and the church. They changed the subject and we talked about how all of the women, except for one or two we noticed, have what has been coined as “taco belly.” The people eat stacks of tortillas for every meal. They also eat a lot of dairy so most of them have “taco belly” despite how much they walk and ride bikes. One thing that is impressive about the Honduran people that Calvin pointed out, is how colored their hair stays in old age. After bringing this up, I did notice that women and men obviously, in their sixties or seventies, had naturally jet black hair with little to no grey hairs. Regardless of how fat, skinny, grey, or black they might be, the people seem to be very fun and loving. As I was walking around taking pictures of people, one lady wanted to see hers. Without letting go of the camera, I showed her and she laughed very much. They told me to take a picture of an old man beside them. He looked drunk and dead. They thought it would be funny so I did. They told me to show him. The man, obviously not sober for a while, looked up and was confused to see himself in a small square. They laughed it off in good fun then the man went back to sleep. Most people say “Hola” or “Buenas” as I walk down the street just as they do to each other except for the occasional nasty man who says “Psst I love you”. I am starting to feel a little more comfortable here.

I finally decided to wander home and had a nice surprise waiting for me there. Melissa, a missionary from England, finally came! She is Jamaican-English, very nice, and willing to share the groceries. I made some dinner as she un-packed. We had vegetable soup. For dessert, we had locally grown bananas with peanut butter. I do not know when the other missionaries come, but at least I have someone else. I am glad she is nice.

Estoy aburrido

August 13, 2009

There is an exercise bike down stairs that was either given to the missionaries or bought by the missionaries. I do not know the story behind that. Anyways, the thing looks from it’s straight out of the 80’s and I can picture some big haired lady with lime green spandex riding it. I got in my short dark blue spandex (because that is better than lime green) and I rode that sucker for a half hour. It’s old, but it works well. There are also a small set up weights. The biggest ones are five pounds each so I had to do many repetitions to feel the burn. I ate Raisin Bran with rice milk. Luckily Horchata is a popular drink around here so there is plenty of rice milk available in the grocery store. I finally got out of the house around 10:00 a.m. and made my way tot e internet café. I knew home would be boring so I went to the school to see what was happening. I finally met Luis Trundle, the school principal, and he had many words of advice about how to deal with the children. He said that some missionaries do not find the happy median between strict and passive while teaching. It is best, Trundle says, to love the children and let them know such, while also keeping the classroom in order by having rules and upholding them. I really hope I am able to do this. Norma, the Pastors wife, also had some encouraging words. She told that she could not go to another country and deal with another culture. It is a gift from God to go somewhere besides your home that is completely different and be fine according to Norma. She also said that the work at the school is hard work. It is difficult to get the children to like and speak English. Some tips she gave me were to act things out or have them act. Basically anything visual or tangible helps. I did find out finally that I am teaching, along with English, math, science, and Bible classes. I will also be given a special Literature and reading class for the second grade since I am a Literature major. I feel so blessed to be needed, I just hope God gives me the skills and the knowledge I need. Norma also told me that I can do anything as long as I have a positive attitude. I hope that is true.
I was trying to cook potatoes for my dinner, but I could not turn on the stove. It is gas powered and the gas tank is right next to it, but I did not know how to turn it on. I called Lodya, the school, and Poul, but no picked up. I glad they did not because I met someone very nice. I got fed up and hungry so I took my keys and went looking for help. I found two women in the street so I asked in my broken Spanish to “Help Please. My stove no work.” One of the women followed me into my house and showed me how to turn on the gas. I had no matches so she went to her work and got some. I showed her around the house and she even used the restroom. I gave her some of la papas (potatoes), but I do not think she liked them. I speak very little Spanish and she speaks even less English. Some how we communicated and I discovered her name is Lorena, she has three children. She lives very far, but her work is very close. I also learned she does not like garlic because she made a face when I cut it up and put it in pan. I prayed and we ate. I showed some pictures of my friends, family, and Joe. She told me hair is very beautiful and thanked me for sharing with her then left. I really appreciated her company and I am happy God sent a friend. Poul was supposed to come over because he is lonely as well since his sister and mom are gone, but Lorena came over instead. It is only 7:00 p.m., but I am already tired. I want to go on a walk, but it is already dark out. Oh well. Perhaps tomorrow I will explore more.

First Impressions

August 13, 2009

I landed at about 11:15 a.m. local time and finally left the airport at 12:30 p.m. The customs department here works as well as the La Sierra University records office I guess. I was given a 90 day visa, but once the other missionaries are here, we will make copies of our paper work and receive temporary residency as far as I understand. The person who sat next to me on the plane from Huston to Tegucigalpa is from Riverside! His name is German and he grew up in Honduras. He moved to the United States when he was 18 then he joined the Army. He is coming home to see his mother. I also met a man whose name I forgot in line for customs that is a professor at UCR and married an Adventist so of course we knew a few of the same people. What a small world.

My greeter is a Hordurian woman just taller than myself and aged about 27. Her name is Lobya (kind of sounds like the name Lolita) and she is the administrator for Marantha Adventista Bilingual School which is where I will be teaching English this year. Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras, resembles San Diego in the sense of flora and vegetation. The architecture reminded me of the nicer parts of Baja, Mexico. As we drove into the mountains, I noticed an abrupt change. The mountains here look just like the mountains at home. There are pine trees! Now, I’m sure they are technically some kind of different type of species than our pine trees here, but I was expecting banana trees on the side of the road and mango trees just outside my house. On the way to Comayagua, Lobya and I stopped at a Pizza Hut I (not my choice) for lunch. Since I am vegan, I just ate at the Barr De Ensalada or the salad bar.

When I finally reached the apartment, I needed to go to the bathroom plus I wanted to shower. Lobya said she would come back at 4:00 p.m. then we could go shopping for food. I did my thing in the bathroom and that went just fine, but when I tried to flush, nothing happened. I looked in the tank and there was no water. “Huh.” I thought to myself “Perhaps a bit of water will do.” So when I tried to turn on the faucet and scoop water into the tank, no water came out and it made a growling noise. Uh Oh! I tried all the faucets around and came to the conclusion the water has been turned off. I still felt gross so I used the small amount of water I had left from the plane ride to brush my teeth. I at least changed my underwear and pants (which felt like heaven) since I would not be showering until the problem could be fixed.

At the internet café I was able to talk to Joe on Skype and that made my day. My heart, as his was as well, was burdened until he knew I arrived safe. I could feel his anxiety and he had to hear from me as soon as possible. I felt a bit more rested after hearing his voice, but I also felt very lonely since Lobya had things to do and could no longer keep me company. I walked home from the café and immediately regretted not bringing my pepper spray along. I was cat called so many times, I thought “Pssst” was my name. The best thing to do is ignore it so I did.

Some people from the church had gotten together yesterday and cleaned the missionary house and washed sheets and other linens. They were hanging on the back porch and I was instructed to take them down and fold them. As I did this, I had to hold back tears. A deep feeling of sorrow engulfed me because it was the first time I had been alone since I got there. Memories of Joe from the evening before flooded my eyes, but that day already seems years ago. The beautiful dinner we shared, the jokes we laughed at, the kisses we cherished, his brown eyes wet with sadness of my departure, are all memories too far away to grasp. I guess I just realized that this was going to be the first long day of many to come that I would be away from the man I love. Now feeling sad, lonely, and gross, I decided a shower would be just fine.

I turned off all the lights down stairs and made my way upstairs. This house gets very creepy at night, especially when it is not filled with three other missionaries and the scary, unfamiliar noises flood the empty rooms. I locked all the doors (That was for you Daddy and Joe) and made my way upstairs to bed. My Aunt Sue had posted on my Facebook several times to read Isaiah 24:16 so I prayed to God, then read Isaiah 24:16. It reads “From the ends of the Earth we hear singing: ‘Glory to the Righteous One.’ But I said ‘I waste away, I waste away! Woe to me!’ The treacherous betray! With treachery the treacherous betray!” I do not know what my Aunt Sue wanted me to get out of it, but God put on my heart that I need to change my attitude. There are so many people out there praying for me. There are people depending on me to do a good job, and God is depending on me to show Him to the people through my actions and spirit. My attitude has been “Woe to me” and I feel if that does not change, I will betray everyone, including God. So even though I miss your smile Joe, your hugs Lita, and the carrot juice in the morning, I do not want to miss the opportunity to sing to the ends of the Earth of the Righteous One as I know I can. Please pray for me.

Love Ruthie

P.S. - I fell asleep after a long, long day at 7:30 p.m. then awoke some time later to my new neighbors firing guns into the air after the Honduras futbol game. I hope they won, because I am scared to find out what happens if they lose.