Restoring Faith in Honduran Humanity

People can say what they want about the safety of this country (stranger danger) and how Hondurans can be unfriendly towards foreigners, and I would probably agree with you for the most part, but every once in a while there is a shining star in the crowd. I believe that no matter where you are it’s always refreshing to come across this type of person and it restores your faith in humanity – there are genuinely good people who exist that are not burdened when asked for help, in fact they readily offer assistance when a situation like ours arises, and they ask for nothing in return. They help out of the goodness of their heart.

Recently, we were traveling out of La Unión for one of our long weekends when Jake’s car got a flat tire. We hadn’t reached the safe haven of paved roads yet so Jake inquired at a house if he could pull his car into their cement lot in order to have a flat surface to change his tire on. As soon as Jake pulled in, this man named Roberto took over. He was on the ground, underneath the car before Jake could even bend over (maybe because as a Honduran he was naturally closer to the ground than Jake’s tall body) and putting the car up on jacks. There was no problem getting the flat tire off and putting on the spare, but that was the easy part. The spare was flat too. Before Jake even had time to worry about what to do next, the man was offering the spare tire from his own truck. He took one look at the tires to compare their sizes and determined that Jake’s car could definitely handle the truck’s spare.

As if Roberto was not generous enough changing the tire and giving us his spare, both without hesitation, he was not even worried about getting his tire back. We were leaving town on a Saturday and weren’t planning be back through until Monday, so Jake asked him if he was ok waiting until Monday for the tire. He responded with recommending a repair shop to stop at once we reached the city (his friend owned it) and said we could just leave the tire there – he would pick it up himself whenever he got around to it. What a guy! We were all blown away by his kindness and generosity. It was as if, in those short 30 minutes, we had become close friends and he trusted us completely. On our way back from vacationing we stopped by his house and brought his family strawberries (a rare fruit to find) as a meager thank you for everything he had done for us.

Roberto’s willingness to help and give was refreshing. He reminded me to not be so guarded with strangers. There are occasions when showing kindness to others is more important than self-preservation. It reminds me of the idea of paying it forward: if someone does something kind for you, turn it around and do something kind for three strangers you come across, and eventually everyone will be touched by kindness. I hope Roberto’s story brings a little warmth to your heart and renews your faith in humanity, just like he did for me. 

Splishin and a Splashin and a little White Raftin

The first half of the year is peppered with long weekends to help school pass by a little quicker.  It’s perfect for getting out of La Unión (when it’s easy to feel trapped here) and explore what the rest of this country has to offer. Last year we were constantly scouring the travel guide books to figure out what crazy adventure we could find for the next break. We quickly hit all the hot spots in Honduras and saw the highlights. This time around, since I’ve already done all the major touristy things, I’ve looked forward to my breaks being a little more relaxed. I have no problem re-visiting those places because now I get to look for the hidden gems in each town – which not every tourist finds at first glance.

Admittedly our first long weekend vacation choice was driven by my need for adventure. Last year for Christmas my sister and I went to the coastal town of La Ceiba and the one thing that we didn’t get to, that I had really wanted to do, was the white-water rafting. I had heard scintillating rumors that the rafting in Ceiba was not only the best rafting in Honduras (which, to be honest, was not a shock so much as hearing that Honduras even had rafting) but that the river was genuinely rough and boasted crazy rapids; so the rafting promised to be thrilling! I had to go back and eagerly recommended it to everyone for our 4-day weekend off.

My awesome persuading powers were successful and we soon were all piling into Jake’s car for our mini-vacation. Everything else that I did in La Ceiba over that weekend is meaningless next to the rafting. The hotel was nice, the food was average, the mall was cool, the grocery store was neat… but the rafting! (My whimsy for big cities has slowly diminished since living in La Unión is not this giant, mind-blowing transition this time.)

The Cangrejal River winds through a valley that splits two national forests in Honduras. You are surrounded by pure, natural beauty and many eco-lodges. Over the weekend that we were there it had rained a considerable amount so it wasn’t exactly safe or recommended for us to start rafting at the very top. When Honduras in general seems to lack concern for safety, I truly appreciate the moments when someone is looking out for us and guides us into safer situations. We drove along the river until the guides found a starting location where they felt confident enough in us as river navigators and the river itself to start the journey. Once they picked the ideal location, I knew in my heart they were spot on as soon as I saw the ‘Colorado’ license plate hanging from the gate. Perfection.

There were 6 of us girls, 2 guides, and 2 boats. Rachel (Suby-Long) and I, being the Colorado natives that we are, were the only two of us teachers who had ever been rafting before. My crew consisted of Kate and Rachel (Liscombe), and our fearless leader, Victor. We named ourselves the ‘vampire bats’ and came up with our own bat battle cries. We felt ferocious. Before embarking down the river we practiced in a little cove; we worked to synchronize our rowing forward, backward, and on opposite sides, and diving into the boat for safety. (Bragging rights: at the beginning, our guide demanded more from Kate and Rachel because the two of them rowing on one side together was not matching the strength of my lone soul rowing on the other side.) Finally Victor found his confidence in us and we were ready to begin!

We swiftly paddled from one rapid to another, always rowing out of them with grace. We were soaked from head to toe as water continually blinded us and flooded our raft with each dip into a rapid. (Earlier that day I had checked with our hotel liaison if our trip was still scheduled to go since it had been raining. She laughed at my because she misunderstood me and thought I was worried about getting wet when in reality I was trying to figure out if the water levels had risen too high, potentially making it too dangerous for us to go. Darn language barrier.) A few times I was a little worried about losing a contact from the force of the water splashing into my face! On one or two instances we had to abandon our paddling and dive into the raft to avoid all being tossed out. I am pleased to announce that my leg has a natural survival instinct programmed into it – I almost fell out but as my body was leaning dangerously closer and closer to the river, my leg reached out and wrapped itself around Kate’s leg to keep me from falling completely in. Kate’s mouth met my fist on one bouncy rapid and then met her own paddle during another, giving her a slight fat lip (but this was the only blood spilt in our boat). The other boat did not have as much luck as we did. Molly fell in during one of the first rapids; it was a little scary to watch her body being rushed towards some unfriendly rocks. And while trying to haul her back into the raft, the guide lost his stability, yelled “Oh shit!” and then tumbled in after her. Thankfully they both were fine. Through it all we were always in a fit of laughter by the end of each rapid because of how much fun it was!

We stopped for a snack break half way through the trip. They sliced up some juicy pineapple and poured refreshing iced tea for us to indulge in. The second part of the river journey was much more subdued and risk-free. It felt more like a lazy river as we just floated down it and moseyed our way to the end. (I think Molly greatly appreciate the change in pace after being tossed out earlier.) Our raft was dying for one final hoorah (maybe have someone launched into the river or play bumper boats to the death with the others) but no such craziness happened. We floated safely to our destination, but we were still all smiles from the trip. It is something that I am very glad that I went back for and would recommend any tourist to go take part in!

Pray for our safety as we have another long weekend ahead of us and will all be traveling around the country. This year is a little different in that we don’t all travel as a herd of gringos; we’ve been picking separate destinations and heading in opposite directions. Would you please pray for everyone as we travel to different cities over this weekend? Pray for smooth bus rides, easy transitions, and safety wherever we find ourselves. 

Kid Tested, Teacher Approved

Children’s Day can only accurately be defined as a day, unlike any other, to celebrate and rejoice in the lives of the Honduran children we teach. The objective is to pack in as much fun as we can into a half day of school and inject as much sugar as legally possible into their tiny little bodies. Controlled chaos is what it really is (the ‘controlled’ part may not be as obvious as the ‘chaos’ part). Would you accept that mission?

I always walk away from days like these and just collapse into a heap on the couch from exhaustion. I have this great, on-going inner debate about which is more torturous – teaching a full day with my munchkins or trying to entertain and manage them for a half day of mandated fun? The half days seem to always kick my butt a lot more than the alternative. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting to embrace my inner child and play alongside of them, but in reality the day is all about them, not about me whatsoever. I have to remember that I am the adult, I am the responsible one, and I am the one in charge so I have to act my age. (What a stupid notion!) Thankfully it is just a half day so I only have to survive until lunch when I can rejuvenate my body with a delicious meal followed by a well-deserved nap. And the real silver lining? I get to send my hyper and sugar-fueled students back home to their parents. Ha!

This year the fun of Children’s Day was not just handed to our students, they had to earn it. We still had the first two hours of classes in the morning. (If we were going to put up with that chaos to come, they would have to tolerate a little teasing of our own.) But it wasn’t long before the madness unfolded. Rachel and I decided to join forces and have a joint 3^rd/5^th grade event for our students. Our brilliant idea was to put on the Marshmallow Olympics! We would gather them all together and pass the marshmallow torch to commence the games. Then we would test their balance and speed in a marshmallow relay by balancing a marshmallow on a spoon and making them carry the spoon in their mouth while running down the court. Following that race we would require them to step up their strength and hand-eye coordination in a marshmallow toss to see who could throw the farthest while their partner caught the marshmallow in a cup. The ultimate challenge was the last one: a battle royal with marshmallow shooters. They would need to either become sharp-shooters aiming the marshmallow ammunition at the others running by and trying to nail them, or be swift while dodging through the marshmallows to get to the opposite side. (If all else failed we had planned a task for the stretchy-cheeked: the classic ‘chubby bunny.’) Our expectations were high for the Marshmallow Olympics.

Our event was not executed as perfectly as we had envisioned it. We couldn’t get the marshmallow torch lit to pass amongst the students. They outsmarted us with the relay by licking the marshmallow and sticking it the spoon so it could not fall off. We didn’t even make it to the marshmallow toss. And the marshmallow shooters all broke one by one as the balloons snapped off the cups. Thankfully we were playing with marshmallows and what child doesn’t love those sugary little puffs? Most of them quit at one point or another and just feasted on the marshmallows we had given them. (So it’s almost like we played chubby bunny!) Although you probably won’t be seeing our Marshmallow Olympics featured on ESPN or ABC News, the day was not a total loss and the kids had fun with it!

As well, the 11^th and 12^th grade students were divided up amongst the primary grades and asked to put on a few activities for each class to help with the day. I was very glad to hand over my little ones to these guys. They started by playing a game where pairs of students competed against each other to hold an orange between their foreheads while dancing to music. They looked so goofy dancing while their heads were stuck together! Then they adorned everyone’s faces with face paint. The girls looked very pretty with swirls and flowers dancing across their faces. And then boys looked ferocious with war markings splashed across theirs. With fresh paint they headed outside for silly races. My students competed in the traditional potato sack relay (except here in Honduras we use rice sacks) and the race that requires you to spin around in a million circles before stumbling back to your line. Those kids spent the majority of each race on the ground in a fit of laughter. They were just not coordinated enough to finish each race. I was laughing equally as hard on the sidelines.

The day finished with the mayor making an appearance and handing out toys to all the students, a giant conga line around the school, and candy of course. I let out a big sigh of relief when the bell finally rang for all the students to go home because all the sugar and noise left with them. I am genuinely glad to spend the day celebrating my students. I love watching them being kids and just having fun. I think it’s healthy for them run around screaming their heads off and inhaling sugar in various forms (once in awhile). I love them dearly and will always accept the opportunity to celebrate them. They are giant blessings my life and deserve a day to recognize how incredible and delightful they are.

Although Children’s Day is all about the students, I am sending up prayers for the teachers. Pressure is coming from all angles. Some are beginning to move past the honeymoon period of moving here and really feeling homesick for their families, friends, and comforts back home. Others are being tested and pushed to their limits by the students. Whatever the reason may be, we cannot afford to have anyone throw in the towel and go home. Pray that the Lord reaches their needs, whatever they may be, and gives them the strength to fight through. I feel like this is a common pray that I have here, but it is completely necessary. Our efforts are not enough for this job. We all need the Lord to guide us. I pray that he works through the students and teachers alike to ease the tension and make this job a little easier for those who are feeling weak.