I'm Back

I know some of you have been waiting for this and have probably given up on me, but finally, I post the last blog of the most amazing year of my life.

Initially, I was afraid of what my reaction might be upon my return to the US and all of the life changes that go with that. I felt that I had learned a lot about myself, priorities and life in general while in Honduras. I felt different and it seemed impossible to go back to the life that I was living before.

With that said, I have returned to the exact life that I had before (same job, same apartment, same friends, etc)and I feel as though I never left. This has made the transition very easy, but has also been very disappointing. If I learned so much and gave so much of myself, why don't I feel different?

There have been moments when I realize that the way that we live is very extravagant and our priorities are sometimes very skewed. For example, I returned in the midst of the NCAA basketball tournament and everyone was so excited that life pretty much revolved around those games. At moments, I realized and looked down on this tradition, but after time, came to think that this is what makes living here so great. We have the luxury of foregoing the necessities of living to concentrate (and spend our money) on sports.

As I move around the city (walking, running, biking, car, bus, train), I am amazed at its cleanliness (in the relative sense), beauty and convenience. Every time I am out and about, I think that I would love to show just one of my girls from Honduras what it is like to live here. We are so lucky.

Despedida

Well, one more week here in Honduras and I am having very mixed feelings about leaving. I am very excited to get back and see my family, but will be very sad to leave the ranch and all of the people I have known during this year. It has been a great year that I will never forget. There are so many things that will forever remind me of Honduras. Here are some short lists of the various sensations that I associate with Honduras.

Sights: mountains, farm animals in the street, cement walls with chipping pastel colored paint, small junk food shacks, vendor ladies in ruffled pocketed aprons, hillside farming, laundry on the line
Sounds: the chug of an old school bus, the rambling Spanish language, blaring ranchero music, vendors yelling out the names of their goods as if it were all one word, children playing, rain on the banana tree leaves, flowing stream water
Smells: fried chicken, fresh rosquillas, camp fire, maracuya (passion fruit)
Taste: sweet melting lychee fruit, salty cheese, the taste of camp fire

I have learned so much from the people of Honduras and the kids here on the ranch. My hope is that I will be able to carry these lessons back to the states and find a way to integrate them into my life there. Here is a short list of some of the things that I have learned.

1. Respect and tolerate other cultures as they are. Just because you don't understand their customs doesn't mean that they are wrong.
2. Point A and B aren't always the most important. What's on the way from A to B can be just as important, so always be aware of the in between.
3. Slow down and enjoy your surroundings whenever you can. Don't rush unless you have to.
4. You can learn a lot from a bus window.

Well, the next time I post anything I will be back in the states and going through culture shock in reverse. I am hoping that it doesn't hit me too hard.

Navidad Rancho Santa Fe Style

My Christmas actually began with shopping for gifts to give the girls from my hogar on Christmas morning. They receive a new clothing outfit from the NPH organization, but the only other gift they get is that from the volunteers. So, I learned very quickly that buying gifts for 22 teenage girls is very difficult and not cheap. (Thank you mom and dad for donating money to this cause.) When I set out shopping, I had an idea of what I wanted to get and how much I wanted to spend. I headed to a market in the city center where the prices are low and I knew that I could bargain. Once I was sure that they had what I was looking for, I truly enjoyed myself moving from stall to stall haggling with each vendor in search of the lowest price. I figured I had the upper hand since I was going to buy 22 of whatever, so I didn’t settle until I found the rock bottom price. Of course the biggest challenge of the day was dragging everything back to the ranch (2 taxis, one bus and ½ mile walk).

Hondurans primarily celebrate the birth of Christ on the eve of Christmas. We were blessed with beautiful weather and spent the entire afternoon outside playing organized games. The games included volleyball, orange eating contest, the biggest Yogi Bear look-a-like pinata I have ever seen and my personal favorite, chop the dulce, which involved blind folding a small child, who then flails a machete until finally chopping off their reward, a chunk off of a large solid block of brown sugar. In the evening, the kids put on a Christmas show of songs and skits. Then we all gathered on the boys side of the ranch for a traditional dinner of tamales, which were delicious. After dinner, a large bonfire was started and everyone socialized and danced. It was so refreshing to watch this large “family” spending time together and celebrating without a thought of gifts. When the fire died down a little, we roasted marshmallows. Then, they showed a Christmas movie on a screen hung from the side of one of the boys homes. At midnight, the movie was stopped and everyone gathered to share hugs and wish merry Christmas. Before heading back to hogar, we munched on apples and grapes, which is another tradition.

On Christmas morning, I woke up early and placed the gifts on the bed of each of the girls. I think that they enjoyed the gifts, but at their age, it is hard to tell. In the late morning, the girls made a collection of things (clothes, accessories, food, etc.) they no longer needed or wanted and we set out for the neighboring pueblos to gift these thing to people less fortunate. As is typical of teenagers, the girls were not very excited about the long walk in the shining sun to give away their things, but in the end, I think we all had a good time. After dark, we all gathered for a procession through the ranch along a candle lit path to the church for mass. Mass was typical and followed by a normal dinner of beans and plantains. In the evening, we started a soccer tournament that will last until the new year. Of course the volunteer team kicked it off with a big fat loss. None of us were born with that soccer gene that all Latin Americans seem to have.

Last Vacation: Guatemala and Utila one more time

Because this was my last chance to travel before returning home I really wanted to hit all of the spots that I hadn’t yet visited during my year in Honduras. So, my hope was to see a little of Guatemala, hit Copan quickly and then return to Utila to do some diving.

The trip began with a less than ideal bus trip to San Pedro Sula. I decided to splurge on the expensive bus so that I could get there faster and be more comfortable. Unfortunately, my money was not well spent. The bus smelled like the inside of a toilet (strange, since there wasn’t even a bathroom on the bus), which just got stronger throughout the trip. There was a couple sitting in the seats across the isle from me who where much more affected than I and were throwing up most of the trip. I did get to San Pedro sooner than my friends who had taken the MUCH cheaper bus. We spent the night with Santiago, one of the NPH pequenos who is going to University in San Pedro and lives with his two younger sisters who attend high school there. They were some of the best hosts ever. It was so strange to stay in their house, eat their food and let him pay for our taxi when I know where he has come from and how little money he has, but I also know that he would be offended by any offer of money for the stay.

The next morning, we took a bus from San Pedro Sula to Guatemala City (“Guate” to the locals). We were hoping to get there in time to take a shuttle to Antigua, but we didn’t make it, so we had to stay in Guate. We went to a hostel that was recommended in the Lonely Planet guide book. The building was very old, which gave it a lot of charm, but also a lot of physical damage. However, it was cheap, clean and we had our own room. Luckily we were only staying for one night because I am not sure the neighborhood was very good. When we paid for the room and the man working the desk needed to go next door for change, he peaked out the front door and waited until nobody was passing on the sidewalk. Then he scurried next door and sprinted back, quickly closing and locking the door. We went for dinner at the Chinese restaurant next door and carried out because the hostel owners recommended that we spend as little time on the street as possible.

We took an early shuttle the following morning to Antigua and arrived by 10. We spent all 4 nights in a great hostel called Hostel 5. It was simple, but clean and the woman that owned it was so nice and helpful. She even let us spend 2 nights in a one bedroom apartment next door for the same price ($10) because the room we were in was booked. The only downside was that there was nobody really staying in the hostel the first few nights, so we didn’t meet other travelers. We did meet several people during the day trips we took. We spent one day climbing Volcan Pakaya. It is an active volcano, which took about 3 hours to go up and down. This volcano was very different than the one that I did in Nicaragua because it was barren and covered in volcanic rock rather than a wet, dense cloud forest. The attraction to this volcano is the lava and we were lucky to find a flowing river of hot lava. The day after that, we took a day trip to Lake Atitlan, which is a large lake surrounded by 3 volcanos. During this trip we met Gus, a Canadian man traveling from the Arctic Circle to somewhere in South America on his motorcycle. (After spending the next 2 days with him, Angela actually got a ride back to Honduras with him.) We also met an Indian couple from NYC who were a far cry from the usual backpacker crowd we find while traveling. They were very nice, but so funny to watch in the setting of Central America with their high expectations for quality and service.

My original plan was to head to Copan (famous for its Mayan ruins) after 2 full days in Antigua. I was disappointed to learn that the bus was full the day I wanted to travel, but it turned out to be a great change of plan because we spent that extra day visiting the NPH Guatemala house. It was so amazing to see how different it was from the one in Honduras. The home has less children and is much smaller in area. The home is much newer, so all of the buildings appear much nicer and cleaner. The kids and volunteers live much differently than we do. I could definitely see myself volunteering there. The only disadvantage that I noted was the poor therapy resources.

I spent the entire next day on several buses from Antigua to La Ceiba (my old stomping ground). I spent the night in Ceiba at the cheapest hostel I knew off and met a fun group of Aussies while getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. The next morning, I took the ferry to Utila, which I later heard referred to as the great iron puke bucket. (Very appropriate since I have been on the boat 8 times and never made it all the way across without seeing someone vomit.) I got off the ferry and went straight to Captian Morgans Dive Shop. Right away, we hopped into a motor boat to Hotel Kayla in the Cays. I was hopping to reunite with some of the people I met last year, but the only familiar faces were of the owner and the boat driver, Luis, who actually remembered me. I suppose that is common because most people in the diving world are transient. Between the other Captian Morgans guests and the empolyees, we were a very diverse group. One of the dive instructors was from Mosambique and his regular (or not so) job is as a archaeological biologist, but since he is just contracted for each job at a time, he also does dive instructing in between jobs. He travels all over the world doing both jobs. What a great life! I also met 2 couples, one that just finished a year of travel around the world and another just beginning their year of travel. They were full of great valuable travel information.

I only dove one day while in the Cays and as it turns out, it was the best day to be there. The boat driver spotted 3 different whale sharks that day and we were able to swim with 2 of them. This was my second time, but it was just as exciting as the first. After our dive, the dive instructors had planned a party on Water Cay, which is a deserted island near the hotel. We spent the rest of the day drinking beer, eating a local coconut fish soup called Bandu, talking and snorkeling. We stayed on the island to watch the sun set then headed back to the hotel. The following day, I was planning to hang out on the dock and catch some sun. However, it poured rain all day long. When the dive boat returned to the hotel that day, I had to get on it and head back to Utila to spend the night since the ferry was leaving at 6 the next morning. Luckily, there was another couple taking the same ferry, so we were able to share a room. One of the guys, Shandel, had been fishing with one of the local fisherman and had 2 large fish to cook before leaving. We took the tuna to an island style restaurant and they cooked it up for us. We shared our dinner with 2 of the other dive instructors and boat captain. We had a good night partying on Utila, but all agreed that we preferred the tranquility of the Cays. I dragged myself out of bed the next morning and spent the day on various modes of transportation heading back to Tegucigalpa.

Visit To The Finca

I have a Honduran friend, Jorge, who lives on a farm north of the NPH ranch. The farm is primarily a dairy farm and he makes his money by selling the milk to a large Honduran dairy company, but also occasionally butchers a cow to eat and sell the meat. He has been bugging me for months to visit the “finca” to have lunch, meet the cows and see the small pueblo where he grew up. This Sunday, I finally gave in.

When we arrived, I was surprised to find that he has quite a few employees who live and work on the farm. His home is very simple and typical Honduran, but spacious, clean and comfortable. The farm was positioned on a large, fairly flat piece of land, but surrounded by lush green mountains. I am not a farm (or even outdoor) girl, but even I will admit that it was beautiful.

For lunch, we traveled down the road to the home of a man who occasionally works on the farm, but also has his own small tilapia farm. His house, which he built himself, was very simple. It was made of concrete block and consisted of 2 rooms. One with a wood burning stove, counter top, sink and small table for eating. Another room with one double bed and one single bed was the bedroom for him, his wife and their 5 year old son, Diego (who, when asked, told me he was 10). The bedroom had one window that was covered, but the windows in the kitchen were just open spaces. There was not one toy in sight (although, I am sure they own a soccer ball) and Diego played with a stick and the dog the entire time we were there.

The man led us into his backyard where he had 4 small square ponds that Jorge claimed he dug himself while Jorge drank beer and slept in a lawn chair. He told us each pond had about 1000 fish and as he threw food into one of the ponds it bubbled like a Jacuzzi as all of the fish mouths opened and closed against the surface. He tossed a net into the pond and within seconds removed about 8 fish. With the help of Diego, he untangled the fish from the net and put the good sized ones in a bag and tossed the little ones back into the pond. After 3 cycles, our lunch was picked out and they began skinning the fish. As we each sipped on cold beers, his wife floured and fried each whole fish. (I actually made a special request to have the head of mine removed. I just can‘t eat him when he is looking at me.) The fish were obviously very fresh and delicious.

After returning to the farm, Jorge and I went for a tour of the near by pueblo on his 4-wheeler. Driving that big machine up through the mountains was not easy and I can still feel the little muscles in my arms that got a workout that day. The ride was amazing and there were several points where we had great views over looking the valley towns and even an old mining sight outside of Tegus. As I drove through the cobblestone streets of the pueblo, Jorge pointed out all of the antique Spanish buildings and even an old water purification system built by the Spaniards that is still used by the people living there. The town was so cute and very well maintained by the people there. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a camera to capture the sights.

Quinceaneros

In the latin american culture, the 15th birthday is a very special event that is typically celebrated with an elaborate party that can sometimes rival a wedding. Of course, here on the ranch, it is impossible to throw an elaborate party for the 15th birthday of each individual. Therefore, each year there is one elaborate party to celebrate all that have completed 15 years that year. It is the biggest party of the year.

This year there were 8 girls from my hogar that turned 15. That made the quinceanero celebration very special for me. They began talking about the party months before the actual date and were fitted for special dresses way in advance because they were hand made by a ranch employee. Each girl has a padrino (godfather) and each boy a madrina (godmother), which is typically an employee or volunteer who is their escort for the evening. My girls began asking for padrinos way in advance and of course all of the quinceanero boys waited until the last minute. Because I don’t really have much contact with them and don’t know those boys very well, I was not a madrina. Because of this, I was able to spend the entire night with my girls.

I spent Thursday night giving pedicures, which is not a pleasant experience since many of the girls have a foot fungus that never seems to go away (for this, I think I should win volunteer of the yearJ). Then on Friday, after work, I spent time watching them prepare their hair, nails and make-up, taking pictures all the while. Of course, walking through the boys side of the ranch, one would never know there was a big event planned for that evening. They were all found playing games in the dirt or soccer on the cement court. When the preparations were finally done. The girls and boys lined up with their padrinos and madrinas outside the church for presentation in front of the entire ranch at mass. After mass, those participating in the evening took a bus down to the school for a special dinner.

The dinner was held in the school auditorium, which had been transformed into a banquet hall with beautiful handmade decorations that the tias had been working on for months. There was a balloon arch where each boy and his madrina was presented and an ivy covered swing set where each girl and her padrino was presented. The ceiling was draped in hundreds of pink paper flowers.

The dinner was typical Honduran fare, but with a small red wine toast to all of the quinceaneros. Almost all of the kids and some of the adults took one sip of the wine and declared it undrinkable because it didn’t have enough sugar. Anyone who has visited Honduras will not be surprised to hear this. I was able to take advantage of this and accumulated at least one full glass of wine. After dinner, the rest of the ranch joined the party. Each quinceanero had one dance with their padrino/madrina as we all watched. It was obvious nobody here does much “waltzing” (as they called it) because they were all bouncing off of each other like a bunch of balls in a pinball machine. After “the waltz”, the quinceaneros had their own performance and did a more modern dance choreographed by my roommate Candy. The night was completed with a big dance party that lasted until about 1 in the morning. This was without a doubt the best night I have had in Honduras.

Physical Therapy on The Ranch

My job is going great and everything is coming together. I finally have a set schedule that is working well right now and all of my “patients” have been attending regularly. I love every minute I spend in the “specials” house, Santa Maria Reina. There are 2 teenage girls with CP (or possibly some genetic disorder that presents very similarly) who I work with trying to do range of motion, positioning and caregiver education. There is also a girl who has some significant physical and mental problems of unknown origin who is very challenging, but also very fun to work with. Another girl has residual problems resulting from a case of menengitis when she was a child. She is a very sad case because she is totally normal and bright in the cognitive sense, but trapped in a body that doesn’t function very well. She can walk, but with very poor coordination and balance making it really unsafe. I have been trying to find something to help her walk, but have been unsuccessful as of now. I also work with the “special” boys house, Casa Emmanuel. These boys have a large range of problems, but all of them can walk independently, although it isn’t always pretty.

My favorite day of the week is spent in Casa Angeles, which is a house in the city for those kids who are very significantly impaired and need to be close to doctors. These kids are the most challenging for me because many of them are in need of splints, braces and wheelchairs that can’t be afforded. They spend their days lying around in the big room of the house, but I am very impressed that every Wednesday most of them spend the morning in hippotherapy (for those who don’t know, this is therapy with horses). I attended the therapy once and was able to actually get on the horse with the kid and do therapy. It was great and the little boy was so much more cooperative than normal.

The rest of my work time is spent in the physical therapy gym in the school. There I treat the kids who have minor physical problems. Most of these kids are between the ages of 5 and 10 and just have some delays in coordination and strength development. For me, the biggest challenge with these kids is behavior. It is very different from my previous jobs in that there is no parent to discipline (or threaten discipline) the kids. It is also difficult for me to motivate them or scold them in Spanish. There are several older kids that receive physical therapy and they are much easier to work with, but still challenging in other ways. Louis is a sixth grader with torticollis. This is a shortening of the muscles on one side of the neck that causes the kid to maintain the head tilted to that side and rotated to the opposite side. It usually affects babies, but they either receive therapy or grow out of it by the time they start walking. Louis is proof that kids don’t always just grow out of it. He consistently has his head tilted and now has developed a significant spinal scoliosis. Because the position of his head is a habit that has developed for 12 years it is impossible for me to fix. My only goal is to keep it from getting worse and try to manage his scoliosis.

The other older kid that I work with, Angela, has a syndrome that has caused abnormal growth of her long bones, malpositioning of the joints and other various abnormalities like having 6 toes on each foot. However, she has normal cognition and is quite bright. A few years ago, she went to the States with an orthopedic doctor who volunteers on the ranch several times a year. He surgically repositioned the bones of her legs to allow her to walk more normally. She lived with his family in Minn for 9 months during the recovery time and she speaks English very well. She has been helping me with my Spanish. Again, my goal for her is to maintain her strength and mobility.