Visitors Day

Three times a year Rancho Santa Fe has a visitors day for all of the family members of the kids living on the ranch. Those kids who will have visitors during that day go to the school early in the morning to wait for their visitors to arrive. Those that will not have visitors, spend the day with us, the volunteers. The day starts at 7:00 for everyone and the activities end at 4.

This visitors day we did an elaborate scavenger hunt all over the ranch. The kids had to run from one end of the ranch to the other looking for things that were hairy, shiney, soft, usefull, etc. The kids had a great time and the activity distracted them from thoughts about their lack of visitors. In fact, one girl on my team was called to the school because her father and brother had arrived to visit her, and she refused to leave the game to see them. She actually ran off and hid in one of the older girls homes to avoid being sent to the school. I spent at least an hour walking around the ranch looking for her. I was very frustrated and still have no idea why she didn't want to see her family.

After the scavenger hunt we went to the pond for hotdogs and swimming. Unfortunately, we were not able to swim because the water was too low and stagnant, which meant there was a possibility of dangerous microorganisms. Because we were not able to swim, time passed slowly at the pond. This was also the time of day when those kids who had been waiting in the school all morning for visitors who never showed up were sent to us to be entertained for the rest of the day. These kids all handled this situation differently. Some arrived at the pond sad and disappointed that their families had said they would be visiting and didn't show up. Others arrived happy to be able to participate in our acitivities and happy to stop the process of waiting around in the school. These kids also said that it was more difficult to be in the school watching all of the other families play and celebrate their time together.

After the pond, we moved to the park in front of the volunteer home for pinatas, cake and party bags. This was everyone's favorite part of the day. I was in charge of the older girls pinata, which sounds easy, but the older girls become little girls at the site of a pinata and candy. After about 3 whacks at Dora the pinata, she went flying through the air and landed on the ground with just a small hole in the head. The girls pounced on Dora attempting to tear off all of her limbs. Thankfully, Candy, another volunteer grabbed the pinata and started running while spewing candy on the ground. (I am really sorry that I don't have a picture of this, but it just happened so fast!) This was great because we eliminated the inevitable whack on the head while diving under the pinata for candy; the pushing, shoving and sometimes punching fight for the last peice of candy and finally the domination of the pinata by the biggest strongest girl. The down side is that the bigger girls were finished before the others and ran to steal candy from the pinata of the small kids. Like I said everyone looses control at the site of the pinata.

As a whole, the day was a success! By the end everyone was exhausted, emotionally and physically.

El Salvador Trip

Route: NPH Rancho Santa Fe>Tegucigalpa, Honduras (night 1)>San Salvador, El Salvador (night 2)>La Libertad>El Trunco>La Libertad (night 3)>San Salvador>San Miguel>Jocoro (night 4)>Santa Rosa>El Salvador-Honduras border>San Miguel (night 5)>San Salvador>Santa Ana (night 6)>San Salvador>Tegucigalpa (night 7)>NPH Rancho Santa Fe

Once upon a time, two beautiful gringas decided to travel from Honduras to El Salvador…

Looking back, my trip to El Salvador was a great one and without a doubt the most educating of all of my travels thus far. We, Brooke and I, began our adventure with one night in Tegus in our usual hotel Granada. Nothing eventful occurred that night since we both committed the night to one bottle of wine, which we couldn’t even finish (Where did my tolerance go?), and unlimited TV watching. The next morning we took a very early bus out of Tegus that went directly to San Salvador. We were excited to see that there were not many passengers, allowing us our own pair of seats in which to lie down. Unfortunately, the bus ride was a bit turbulent (many winding roads at top speed) making it difficult to sleep. On the positive side, I got a great core workout just keeping my body in the chairs. Brooke actually fell asleep for a minute and was immediately thrown to the floor.

Surprisingly, we arrived in San Salvador safely. We questioned a very well fed woman (aka obese) if it was possible to walk to the center of the city and she told us that we were skinny enough to do it, so we walked the 5 min (!!!) to get to the center. We found our hotel and were told that we could take a bus to get to the very popular restaurant/bar area, Zona Rosa. About 3 blocks from where we boarded, we saw what looked like it should be Zona Rosa, but figured it couldn’t be that close if we were told to take the bus. Thirty minutes later and fully sweat soaked, we arrived back at the original stop having gotten the cheapest (20 cents) tour of the city of San Salvador. We went to one of the many roadside restaurants and refreshed ourselves with a bucket of beer. For dinner, we finally settled on “American” quesadillas (Does anyone else see the irony here?) because the waitress repeatedly told us that they did not have the ingredients to complete each menu item we attempted to order.

Brooke woke up the following morning with what seemed to be a bad case of pink eye. Because her eye was very swollen, I asked the hostel manager for ice. Without even questioning the reason, she handed me a very dirty plastic ice pack. (Don’t people usually ask for ice to put in their drink? Oh well, worked out in our favor.) After Brooke finally pried her eye open, we left the hostel to find medication and the bus to our next destination, La Libertad (the beach!)

When we arrived in La Libertad, we walked around the city looking for a place to stay. Of course we were attracted to the shady Hotel Surf. We thought we were getting a great deal when the owner told us we could have a room with air conditioning, private bathroom, 2 double beds, microwave and fridge for $15. Little did we know that the toilet didn’t flush because the handle was broken, the sink and shower didn’t work because the plumbing system couldn’t get the water up to the second floor and the foul smell was a result of the bathroom not being clean, which the owner promised she would clean while we were out (!?!?!) We took a walk down to the pier where the fisherman were selling raw fish and shrimp. This is where I had the best food of the trip. I paid $2 for a big bowl of fresh ceviche made on the pier! It was delicious. We met some guys from San Salvador in for the weekend to surf who told us that we should really be staying in El Trunco, which is the touristy beach town where all of the extranjeros go to surf. (We later learned that La Libertad is dangerous enough that the Peace Corps volunteers are prohibited from staying the night there.) We took a taxi to El Trunco and immediately fell in love with the small surf town. They even had a great coffee shop that had soy milk (unheard of!). We spent the rest of the evening drinking beers on the second level dock and watching the huge waves soak the dock below. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped into a small convenience store/home to buy one more beer. Inside, the family (mother, father and 2 small children) who owned the store were having a nice quiet dinner, which we very definitely interrupted. There was a time when I would have thought this odd, but it is the case in so many shops that I didn’t even blink.

The next morning we found that the only way to bathe in the hotel was by bucket, so I took my first bucket shower. I was relieved to see that the water in the bucket was crystal clear, which is more than I can say for the water we typically bathe in on the ranch. After the “shower”, we attempted to go to the beach, but found that there really wasn’t much of a beach as we know it, so we took the bus back to San Salvador. We traveled from San Salvador to a small pueblo near the Honduran boarder called Jocoro, where we had made arrangements to couch surf with Brian, a Peace Corp volunteer. Jocoro was great and Brian introduced us to many of the local people. It was here that we finally ate pupusas, the national food of El Salvador. It is a cheese filled tortilla that typically comes topped with a slaw of cabbage, onions and carrots. Delicious and perfect for the vegetarian diet. We spent the night in Brian’s room on a mattress. He lived in a single room with a back porch and outdoor bathroom and shower (again, by bucket, but thankfully not the same bucket used to flush the toilet). We were feeling very thankful for the “luxurious” living conditions we have on the ranch.

The next morning we hopped on a bus that took us to the border. When we handed our passports and residency cards to the immigration official he asked us if we were aware of the political state of Honduras. We quickly assured him that we were aware and that we lived in Tegus. He confirmed that we knew that the previously exiled President Zelaya had returned to the country and that there was an indefinite curfew throughout the whole country prohibiting any kind of travel, including the buses across the border. I am sure our shocked faces were somewhat comical. We had heard nothing of the sort. As we debated our next move, he processed our return to Honduras. When we decided it would be better to stay in El Salvador, we had to walk around the building and enter the country all over again. I had noticed a nice looking hotel when passing through San Miguel, about 2 hours away, and we decided to go back there and wait for news. It was a bit expensive, but had a pool, so we were finally able to get the sun that we had been deprived at the beach. We constantly checked the TV news and internet for any information we could find about what had occurred and what was happening in Tegus as a result. Of course, the news made it sound like Tegus was being burned to the ground.

The next morning we decided that we couldn’t stay in San Miguel another night because it was expensive and we weren’t feeling very safe walking around the small and boring city. Since we had no idea how long the curfew would go on and when we would be able to return, I decided that it would be a good idea to try to find the NPH El Salvador house where we could sleep and eat for free. We took a bus to San Salvador then another on to Santa Ana, which was the city address of the NPH house. When we arrived in Santa Ana, we learned that, like NPH Honduras, the El Salvador house was in fact about 1 hour outside the city. Nobody knew where the house was located and there didn’t seem to be buses that passed the house. It was getting late and we decided to find a place to stay in Santa Ana. Luckily, we decided on a hostel that was nearby the mall where we were doing our hotel research via internet. The hostel was, in fact, a large, beautiful home owned by a single man, Javier. There were 2 large rooms with single beds (usually they are bunk beds) and because there was only one other girl staying there, Brooke and I were able to have our own room and bathroom. The house was decorated very well with objects from all over the world. It was very clean and I was even able to take a hot shower without my shoes! (Most people know that this is unheard of in a hostel.) We spent the evening talking with Javier and catching up on the news. I think that he was disappointed when we all decided to go to bed early.

The next morning, we learned that the curfew had been lifted and the bus would be running between San Salvador and Tegus. We quickly packed up and headed back to the city. The bus ride back to Tegus was uneventful until I got a call saying that they had just announced a curfew beginning at 7 pm. This was the exact time we were supposed to arrive and there was no way we would be able to travel the 45 min back to the ranch. I was even worried that we would not be able to find a taxi to take us to a hotel and the bus station is in one of the worst areas of Tegus. Luckily, a friend offered to pick us up and we spent the night back in the Granada right where we had started.

Mom and Dad Visit Honduras

I had been looking forward to my parents visit since before it was even planned. It is so difficult to describe Honduras and The Ranch over the phone. I was so excited for them to finally see the things I talked about and meet the people I described to them each time we talked.

As we drove from the airport to The Ranch, Uli and I pointed out notable places in the city and Uli gave us some great history of Tegucigalpa that even I didn't know. As we pulled into the ranch, I pointed out the various buildings (clinic, school, tallere, etc.) that they had heard so much about. I think they were surprised that I have been able to live so far outside the city and in the woods for the past 8 months.

As is typical of Honduras and the ranch, we were celebrating dia del nino (day of the child), which required a full day of planning and full day of celebration, which meant I wouldn't be doing any therapy while my parents were here. It was a little disappointing because they didn't get to see what a typical day was like, but also fun because we played games and interacted with the kids. However, as is also typical, the day was very chaotic and tiring. I think that it was a little overwhelming for them and made worse by the face that they didn't understand what anyone was saying. I also didn't really realize how much we have to walk to get around the ranch until they pointed it out and looked haggered by the end of each day.

For me, one of the most important things to show them was the hogar where I spend my nights with my 14-16 year old girls and their tias (caregivers). We spent 2 nights in hogar with the girls and again I think they were a little overwhelmed, but the girls loved meeting them and tried hard to communicate with them. One night the tias cooked tajaditas (fried plantian chips) for them, so that they could try a homemade traditional food. I love tajaditas, but I am not sure they were very impressed. Also, this was after we had just finished a dinner with a small group of girls from my hogar. We cooked Baleadas for them, which is another traditional Honduran food that consists of a flour tortilla filled with scrambled eggs, beans and a cream called mantequilla. This event was really fun for me and I was so proud of how well behaved the girls were around my parents.

After 3 days on the ranch, my parents were ready to move on the Roatan for a short beach vacation. I think they had eaten enough traditional Honduran food and were ready to get to a location where they could communicate with people. We arrived at our hotel in Roatan and were a little disappointed to find that it wasn't exactly on the beach and wasn't the fancy resort style we had been looking forward to. We stayed in a cabin situated on the rocks at the end of the West Bay beach. However, it didn't take us long to appreciate the small community of the hotel and enjoy waking up to the same faces every morning. Every employee of the hotel knew who we were and greeted us by name throughout the day. The hotel had its own dive shop and I was able to scuba dive privately with the dive master for one day and with only 4 of us the second day. This was much better than the large dive groups we saw leaving from the other hotels. The weather in Roatan was not ideal because it was extremely hot and we spent a lot of time laying in the air conditioned room or floating in the ocean. It was a vacation full of rest:) Another downer was the presence of sand fleas who covered us in bites the first day that just got worse as time passed. We had been warned of these, but never could have imagined the damage they could do without being seen or felt. On the upside, mom and dad totally spoiled me by feeding me very well and surrounding me with the things that we don't have on the ranch. I soaked up the air conditioning at every oportunity, ate a lot of fresh sea food and vegetables and the best was watching college and pro football while sipping on cold beers.

It was great to see them and finally I can tell stories about the ranch and they will be able to visualize the places and people. I also think it opened their eyes to the life and situations of the kids.

Olympiadas

Definition (after)
Olympiadas - an awesome demonstration of team spirit and a great way to get to know new people. A great way to teach the kids team work and that hard work pays off and is something to be proud of.

Well, its Sunday and Olympiadas is finally over. I am feeling a little bit like I always do after a big race: what now? Our days have been filled with preparations and now that it is over, what do I do with myself? Unlike after a race, I am pretty confident that this feeling will not last more that 24 hours. I am going to be very happy to have time for myself.

The Olympiadas activities began on Friday with presentations from each team. I was very poorly informed on what the presentation was supposed to contain. My team just told me to make up a dance. Which I did. They tried to tell me that the dance should be 7 min. long, which seemed like an absurdly long dance to me and I know that nobody wants to see me dance for that long, so our dance was 2 min and 50 seconds. (This was also the maximum capacity of dance moves that my fellow teammates and dancers could memorize. Not surprising since they were all between the ages of 8 and 13) Well, I found out on Friday night (way too late!) that we were supposed to develop a “show” presenting our country and value (Jamaica and peace, in our case) that included a dance. This is very different than just making up a dance. There were some amazing presentations and of course we were sandwiched right in between 2 of the best. However, we had fun and didn’t completely humiliate ourselves, just partially. Every team had to make a flag representing their country and value and there were some pretty amazing flags, including ours, which I can say because I had nothing to do with it. They began the night with a flag presentation in which a representative from each team circled the auditorium waving the flags. It was much cooler than I can put into words. Although it was a little long, the night was really fun!

We woke up bright and early Saturday morning and went to a service in the church where we prayed for everyone’s safety during the games (at the time I had no idea how appropriate this was), they lit the olympiadas torch and blessed it with holy water. We then made our way down to the school where the games were held. My team began with the Deslizador, which was a giant slip and slide that had a basket ball hoop and the end. It was one of my favorite games. We only lost by one point. Next we went to the game named “Who is the king?”. This was designed as a boxing ring, without the protective side ropes, of course. The object of the game was to push your opponent off of the surface which was raised about 4 feet off the ground. As we were waiting our turn to play, an older girl (who is learning disabled and very uncoordinated) was forced off the edge and crashed to the ground twisting her ankle and bruising her knee…shocker! I am sorry to say that my team lost this game, but proud to say that nobody was able to push me off even when they ganged up on me 3 to 1. From there we moved to Hockey, which obviously the Hondurans are very unfamiliar with. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell them that there is a rule that the stick can not go above the shoulders and our game turned into a combination of hockey and baseball. I am shocked that nobody lost a full mouth of teeth. The next game was a giant obstacle course that involved a lot of running (love it!), crawling on the ground, and monkey bars (these are much more difficult as a fat old lady than they were as a small child). This was another of my favorites and my team actually did well. Next was the long jump and we elected 5 people from our team to represent us. Considering I can no longer jump more than a few inches off the ground, I was not elected to play. Next was the trivia challenge, which again we lost by only one point (you can begin to see the trend hereJ). Following that, we went to the very clever game named “Clean our environment”. I found this game very funny considering they gave us 3 trash bags and told us the object of the game was to fill the bags with trash laying around the school. They didn’t even time it. I must remember this cleaning tactic for future activities organized for kids. Afterwards, we got soaking wet playing a game that included removing the water from one barrel and putting it into another using giant sponges. And finally, we terminated the Olympic games with the tug of war in a giant mud pit. Our team didn’t even have a chance to win due to the fact that we were composed mostly of young kids and the other team of older kids and adults. It took about 15 seconds for the other team to drag all of us through the mud, but it was a blast and even the kids who had barely participated all day jumped into the mud to help out.

After lunch, we spent the rest of the afternoon playing field day type games on the school basketball courts. It was a great flash back to elementary school with the 3 legged race, popping balloons by sitting on them, etc. Finally, at 4:00 we were able to drag ourselves back to the house, shower and nap before going to the awards party, but unfortunately, the party was rained out. It was a great weekend and although the preparation was time consuming and at times very frustrating, it was totally worth it!!

Olympiadas Prep

Definition (before):
Olympiadas - A ridiculous waste of time and energy in order to bring everyone on the ranch together; an opportunity to show case the typical Honduran way of doing things which is disorganized and as inefficient as possible; typically a series of meetings about what is going to happen in the next meeting; one night of dance contest, mural contest, flag contest and mascot contest; another day full of team games and activities (this day actually seems like the only worthwhile part of the ordeal)
-Stay tuned for the “after” definition

So, we have begun preparing for Olympiadas. We have 3 weeks to throw together a dance, costumes, a mascot, a team flag and a mural. All of this needs to represent our assigned country, Jamaica, and assigned value, peace. My team has met 3 times and, so far, we have none of the above. I have been put in charge of the music, which isn’t too bad, except that I have to find Jamaican music that can be made into a dance for a range of talent and ages. I love reggae as much as the next person, but have any of you ever tried to choreograph a dance to it, not easy. Also complicating things is the fact that half of the team doesn’t show up to the meetings and they refuse to volunteer to participate in anything. Everyone keeps telling me that everything will fall together at the last minute. When I was in college, I pretty much lived my academic life in this manner, but since then I have been more of a planner and preparer. This event is definitely testing my ability to be flexible and open minded.

Military Coup

I suppose somewhere in my educational history I have heard the term military coup, but I don’t think that I ever knew what it meant. Well, they say the best way to learn is first hand. I guess I am lucky to have that opportunity. I don’t think what has happened in Honduras is a true military coup, but I guess that is the closest word anyone can find to define what has happened. I first realized that something was up when I was in the city center and there were large groups of protestors and the newspapers were sporting big headlines that said the president wanted to end democracy. This was before the president disappeared and when he was trying to change the constitution. I think that the part about “ending democracy” was a little sensationalist, but I guess the president hasn’t been too popular in his term and changing the constitution would have allowed him to run for a second 4 year term, which doesn’t normally happen here as it does in the states.

The next time I was in the city center was the day the president was arrested and taken to Costa Rica. We were traveling back to the ranch from a weekend in La Tigra and didn’t have any choice but to go through the center. We had heard rumors of protests and mobs, but it was eerily silent and almost a ghost town when we walked through. This was a big difference from the usual bustling crowds, so there was definitely something up, just not what we had heard or expected. From that moment on, we have been prisoners on the ranch. They have advised everyone, Honduran and foreign, to stay where they are and they even have a curfew in the city. I have not left the ranch in 8 days and already I am getting cabin fever. It is also frustrating to be here, and so disconnected from what is going on in the outside world. We (the volunteers) have no TV or radio, so we are relying on what we can find on the internet and what we hear from family and friends. However, this was initially difficult considering “they” (no idea who “they” are) were shutting down the electricity, phones and internet for random periods of time throughout the day. That has stopped for now and hopefully forever. It is a little scary knowing that “they” can completely shut us off from the world whenever “they” want. Last week, there was no school because they didn’t think it was safe for the teachers to be traveling everyday to and from the ranch. I tried to do physical therapy with as many kids as I could in their hogars, but this was difficult considering I didn’t have any of my therapy resources and all of the other kids were running around or trying to participate. I spent most of the week “working” with the girls from my hogar. The best part was rolling out of bed around 9 each day to make it to hogar before 10. At 10, the girls had finished their chores and had to “chopear” in various parts of the ranch. Chopearing is cutting the grass with machetes. This was my first experience and, as I had been thinking, it was much more difficult than it looked. When the kids swing the machetes at the base of each blade of grass, there is a whirlwind of grass and weeds that swirls around them and the end result is a nice patch of trim grass. However, when I tried it, I clumsily swung the blade through the grass causing a nice breeze and ending with exactly what I started except maybe a fallen dandelion or two. Of course, my girls got a big kick out of watching me. They tried to instruct me, but I really didn’t improve at all during the week. All I managed to get out of it was a bunch of blisters on my hands and an arm that I couldn’t lift above 45 degrees (and this was only after 10-15 min of chopearing). Needless to say, we were all overjoyed to hear that classes would resume this week.

At this point, the president, is trying to get back into the country, but so far, he has been unsuccessful. Yesterday, the military covered the airport runway with vehicles so that he couldn’t land. The word today is that Obama has given him permission to land at a nearby US Military base. From what I have read and heard, the public opinion towards Americans has been declining throughout this ordeal due to the support that the US has been giving the unpopular president. I imagine that the opinion will plummet if he actually lands on the base. Here on the ranch everyone is very rational and nobody has expressed any anger towards us. However, some of the younger Pequenos that are in the city have not been so friendly or understanding. One of the volunteers, who has befriended some of the high school and university students, has been receiving some hate mail from them recently. None of it is violent, just requesting that we all return to where we came from. I really hope that it doesn’t come to that.

Adendum (8/16/09): I had my first close encounter with a violent mob on Wednesday. I was passing through the center of the city on my way back to the ranch from work and found a mob of people in the park protesting the government. I quickly changed my route to avoid the park and ran into a line of police and military in full riot gear. This was unsettling but better than the angry mob. I was trying to make my way around the center to get to the buses that would take me out of the city and had to avoid overturned news stands and broken glass that littered the streets from all of the store fronts that had been assulted with rocks. The streets were lined with curious people who were hiding in doorways and behind barred store fronts. All of a sudden everyone around me began running. I have no idea why or what we were running from, but I figured it was in my best interest to join the crowd and get away from whatever it was. Next to me was a woman running with an infant, crazy! I turned onto another street and was able to stop running and just watched curiously with the rest of the crowd. I was extremely worried that I was not going to be able to find transportation back to the bus stop to get back to the ranch, but thankfully, the minibuses were running and I got out of there as soon as possible. I am considering myself lucky for not having been there any earlier when all of the major violence happened. It was a good wake-up call for the actual political state that we are in and how fast dangerous things can happen.

Born in the USA

Growing up in the United States is a privilege that we are all aware of, but only in the sense that we have been told our entire lives. The reality is that we have no understanding of how lucky we are. Spending the last 6 months in Honduras has made me very aware of the luxuries and opportunities that we take advantage of in the US. This is something that I was even more aware of upon returning to the states for a visit.

I arrived in Miami and my 4 hour layover turned in to a 6 hour layover due to thunderstorms. However, I was perfectly content enjoying the “luxuries” of the airport and didn’t mind the extra time at all. I passed the time freely (only in the sense of availability, not in the sense of money since I had to pay a pretty penny for the time) surfing the internet, drinking American beer and using the bathroom where I could throw the toilet paper into the toilet rather than an overflowing stinky trash can. I was in American made heaven. The strangest thing that I encountered in the airport was being in a public place where everyone around me was speaking English. This was made even more confusing by the fact that many of those people where Latin American. I repeatedly spoke to the bartender and woman serving food in Spanish, which I think confused them more than me.

When I finally arrived in Chicago, I sunk into the big, beautiful, comfortable guest bed of my friend, Divya, who was putting me up for the weekend. I don’t think I have ever slept so well in my life. This amazing comfort continued with each bed throughout my one week stay and that includes the night spent on the couch of my old Chicago apartment. It was amazing to have the room to spread out my arms and legs, roll over and reposition my body without getting stuck between any wooden slats below the mattress.

The culture shock that I experienced during my first few days in the states was much greater than I had anticipated. I believe this had to do with the fact that my first weekend was luxurious even for my pre-Honduras middle class American standards. I kicked off the trip with a visit to my old Chicago salon, which is located on the Gold Coast neighborhood. As most people know, this is one of the best and most expensive areas of downtown, so walking around that part of the city was a huge change from the dirty streets of Tegucigalpa. I took the CTA bus with a whole new appreciation for public transportation. I was so comfortable during this bus ride because I had my very own seat where nobody was touching or invading my personal space. Also, when it was time for me to get off the bus, I freely stood up and walked through the empty isle and down the stairs. It was such a pleasant experience compared to the buses of Central America.

I filled the rest of my vacation days trying to experience everything that I had been missing from the states. This included eating all of the foods that I love that aren’t available in Honduras. I had hummus, sushi, Starbucks, Thai food, a veggie burger, good beer and wine and much more. I would venture to say that I gained a good 5 pounds throughout the week. Strangely, my stomach wasn’t a big fan of all of the “good” food I was feeding it. I was fairly uncomfortable all week. Of course, as soon as I returned to the familiar beans and rice diet, my stomach was fine. How strange it is to experience exactly the opposite thing as when I first arrived in Honduras. I also spent some time (not as much as I would have liked) laying on my parents couch (luxury at its best) catching up on all of my favorite TV shows. I have to admit I don’t think I was really missing anything there, but just the act of watching TV any time I wanted was great. I did some shopping, which isn’t the best activity for someone who makes $100 a month. However, I really wanted to get some things for my girls that they couldn’t get in Honduras. I ended up buying one of every teeny bopper magazine that I could find. It turned out to be the best gift I could have gotten them. The hogar is now covered with posters of The Jonas Brothers, Zac Efron, Rhianna and many more.

It was a great trip and I really enjoyed seeing everyone. However, returning to Honduras was really difficult. I had to readjust to the living conditions and way of life all over again, but this time it was more difficult because I didn’t have the excitement of being in a new place and starting a new adventure. It was just coming back to life as usual here on the ranch. I spent the first week in a mild depression and easily got frustrated with the dirtiness and lack of technology. (It was made worse by the fact that our washing machine was not working and I had to wash my clothes by hand.) Each week has been a little easier and by now I have adjusted and am happy to be here again.