Days go by here a todo mecate (a.k.a. really fast). It's been three weeks and three days since I arrived in Talanga, a super friendly town about one hour driving distance north of the Honduran capital, Tegucigalpa. Rosi, Chanel, Andrew, Molly, Brooke and I are the volunteers this year and we have so much to learn about the community but so far have had a lot of fun just beginning to dig in.
Driving for one is always an adventure. It might be more accurate if I call it pothole and ditch diving instead of driving, because, between the six of us acclimating to the automatic transmission truck, we spend a significant amount of our 'driving' time exploring the potholes and ditches all over the Talangan streets. A few days ago some local oxen played the role of tow-truck to get us through a flooded road.
Besides oxen forging the river (a la Oregon Trail), there's been a lot of other firsts for me. I attended the wedding of a friend of a friend and it was my first ever experience of the bride processing down the church aisle almost completely in the dark. Often it rains so hard that the electricity goes out in the whole town and this was one of those nights ... but who wants to see the bride anyway? Luckily the rain stopped and lights were back on in time for vows and stayed on the rest of the night so we could eat cake and dance all night to Shakira and Justin Bieber.
There are two new members in our house community, thanks to an impulse buy on our way to a meeting last Tuesday morning. Peach and Fitzpatrick cost a total of 10 Lempira (50 cents) and are just as cute as you could imagine two little pollitos to be.
They are excellent company, except for the fact that they'd just as soon poop on you as snuggle up in your palms, two things they do almost constantly and sometimes simultaneously. They grow so fast that we spot new feathers every day. Our neighbors tell us that F and P have made it out of the woods since they've survived the first week. Everyone is uniformly impressed that the chickies didn't perish at the hands of us city kids.
Besides farm animals, we have some wonderful and generous people neighbors here. Don Chico runs the corner store where we buy eggs and milk. He hosts an informal show on the local TV station every Tuesday and yesterday night we all got to be introduced on the show. I wish I could get some of that footage because, well, probably the first and last time I get interviewed 1) in Spanish and 2) on TV.
I am still getting used to the water system here. Water comes to our house on most Fridays and Mondays. Most homes in Honduras, including ours, have a cement basin (called a pila) in the yard to store enough water (or almost enough ... we're still learning how to conserve) for the rest of the days in the week. Other neighborhoods receive water less than once a week and many rural ones do not at all, but because we live near the town proper we are lucky enough to have two days. Even in major cities water is still an issue. Recently in Tegucigalpa water sources that served one barrio were literally confiscated and redirected to a new upper-class housing development in the city ... leaving the original community with no water at all. That some communities have privileges at the expense of others having nothing is as common a reality here in Honduras as it is all over the world, though it seems that we're less likely to admit to the basic power dynamic that justifies the trade-off in the U.S.
We are all super excited about the possibility of facilitating the construction a water system (tank, pump, water lines) in a rural community of about 135 families who as of now lack potable water. It'll be a couple of months before we hear back about grant applications for funding, but that the project is feasible (for the equivalent of $30,000 U.S. dollars) totally astounds me. Ángel, an engineer who lives here in Talanga and has worked on constructing water systems in the past, has been super helpful laying out the plans and guiding the project. Last Saturday, we trekked up the mountain with Ángel to organize a junta directiva (direction committee) of community members to share oversight of the project.
I just uploaded a video of some of the kids who eat every day in the Comedor (lunchroom) that was started by the fabulous group of volunteers from this past year. Community members originally suggested the idea of a food program to Nina, Pati, Rosalina, Carolina and Jean ('09-'10 volunteers) and they followed up by going to the city dump every day to get to know the kids who were there looking for food there. Now about ten months after Comedor opened its doors, 32 kids are enrolled in the program and self-sufficiency is well on the way: moms of enrolled kids take turns cooking meals throughout the week, we've hired a kitchen coordinator and part-time social worker, and the vast majority of food donations come from generous business owners here in Talanga.
I can't wait to write more but the rain also cuts off the internet and so I keep losing pages. I miss and love you people reading this and I hope you leave comments and send emails whenever you can.
Driving for one is always an adventure. It might be more accurate if I call it pothole and ditch diving instead of driving, because, between the six of us acclimating to the automatic transmission truck, we spend a significant amount of our 'driving' time exploring the potholes and ditches all over the Talangan streets. A few days ago some local oxen played the role of tow-truck to get us through a flooded road.
Besides oxen forging the river (a la Oregon Trail), there's been a lot of other firsts for me. I attended the wedding of a friend of a friend and it was my first ever experience of the bride processing down the church aisle almost completely in the dark. Often it rains so hard that the electricity goes out in the whole town and this was one of those nights ... but who wants to see the bride anyway? Luckily the rain stopped and lights were back on in time for vows and stayed on the rest of the night so we could eat cake and dance all night to Shakira and Justin Bieber.
There are two new members in our house community, thanks to an impulse buy on our way to a meeting last Tuesday morning. Peach and Fitzpatrick cost a total of 10 Lempira (50 cents) and are just as cute as you could imagine two little pollitos to be.
They are excellent company, except for the fact that they'd just as soon poop on you as snuggle up in your palms, two things they do almost constantly and sometimes simultaneously. They grow so fast that we spot new feathers every day. Our neighbors tell us that F and P have made it out of the woods since they've survived the first week. Everyone is uniformly impressed that the chickies didn't perish at the hands of us city kids.
Besides farm animals, we have some wonderful and generous people neighbors here. Don Chico runs the corner store where we buy eggs and milk. He hosts an informal show on the local TV station every Tuesday and yesterday night we all got to be introduced on the show. I wish I could get some of that footage because, well, probably the first and last time I get interviewed 1) in Spanish and 2) on TV.
I am still getting used to the water system here. Water comes to our house on most Fridays and Mondays. Most homes in Honduras, including ours, have a cement basin (called a pila) in the yard to store enough water (or almost enough ... we're still learning how to conserve) for the rest of the days in the week. Other neighborhoods receive water less than once a week and many rural ones do not at all, but because we live near the town proper we are lucky enough to have two days. Even in major cities water is still an issue. Recently in Tegucigalpa water sources that served one barrio were literally confiscated and redirected to a new upper-class housing development in the city ... leaving the original community with no water at all. That some communities have privileges at the expense of others having nothing is as common a reality here in Honduras as it is all over the world, though it seems that we're less likely to admit to the basic power dynamic that justifies the trade-off in the U.S.
We are all super excited about the possibility of facilitating the construction a water system (tank, pump, water lines) in a rural community of about 135 families who as of now lack potable water. It'll be a couple of months before we hear back about grant applications for funding, but that the project is feasible (for the equivalent of $30,000 U.S. dollars) totally astounds me. Ángel, an engineer who lives here in Talanga and has worked on constructing water systems in the past, has been super helpful laying out the plans and guiding the project. Last Saturday, we trekked up the mountain with Ángel to organize a junta directiva (direction committee) of community members to share oversight of the project.
I just uploaded a video of some of the kids who eat every day in the Comedor (lunchroom) that was started by the fabulous group of volunteers from this past year. Community members originally suggested the idea of a food program to Nina, Pati, Rosalina, Carolina and Jean ('09-'10 volunteers) and they followed up by going to the city dump every day to get to know the kids who were there looking for food there. Now about ten months after Comedor opened its doors, 32 kids are enrolled in the program and self-sufficiency is well on the way: moms of enrolled kids take turns cooking meals throughout the week, we've hired a kitchen coordinator and part-time social worker, and the vast majority of food donations come from generous business owners here in Talanga.
I can't wait to write more but the rain also cuts off the internet and so I keep losing pages. I miss and love you people reading this and I hope you leave comments and send emails whenever you can.
Fitzpatrick ... possibly Peach :)