And we're back!!

I was blessed with the chance to go home for Christmas. Two weeks back in the States was great. I got a much needed refresher. But all good things come to an end. So at the end of 2 weeks it was back to Honduras for my last 6 months. 


I should have known that getting back to Gracias wasn't going to be any easy task. But I never expected it to go in the direction it did.


Saturday morning obviously came too fast. I left A.J at the entrance to security in such a fog. I had such a long travel day ahead of me that the idea of leaving him didn't really hit me at that moment.


However, I got on the plane and right as we took off, the sadness hit me. I became "that girl" sobbing on the plane. Luckily I had the window seat and just looked out as we took off. But I literally couldn't control the crying until I started to smell something. I glance over and the girl on the aisle is throwing up. So the woman in the middle of us is sandwiched between a cryer and a vomiter. That was enough to pull me out of my sadness.  


Good thing I was 20 minutes into my 12 hour trip home and it was starting just how I imagined it, interesting!


I got to Houston, grabbed my last Starbucks and met Jenna and Kristin for our plane ride to San Pedro Sula
Adios U.S., hello Honduras.... or so we thought


10 minutes before we were supposed to land, the pilot comes on the loud speaker and informs us that a plane has broken down on the runway (there is only one runway) so we will circle the area for 15 minutes, if the plane isn't moved we will have to fly to El Salvador to  refuel.


Great!


Yep, you guessed it, we had to fly to El Salvador for gas. We end up sitting on the plane in El Salvador for 2 hours waiting for word on the runway situation in Honduras. Good thing it was 85 degrees outside and our plane was sitting in the El Salvadorian sun, roasting.


Jenna, Kristin and I are unfortunately not sitting together. So we are talking over rows about the rest of our travels to Gracias. Since we are in the middle of coffee season, buses are more likely to get robbed because people are carrying more cash. We have been warned to stay off the 4 o'clock bus back to Gracias because it has been consistently been getting robbed.


So Jenna and her seat neighbor start chatting and she realizes they are going to Santa Rosa Copan, town 45 km from Gracias for some missionary work. They offer to help us once we get our luggage and speak to their contact in Honduras.


Well God was watching over us that day because the cutest nun I have ever seen, inquires about our situation. Once she realizes we are stranded here in San Pedro Sula, she is ademant about helping us. No matter what it took she said she wanted to help us.


After chatting with this missionary group for a while, they inform us there is enough room in their van for the three of us. 


Wahoo!!!! 


They even bough us dinner on our way to Santa Rosa Copan. This group of Catholic missionaries took us in and helped us out even more than we could have ever asked for. It was an amazing jester of humanity.


They did offer to give us a room in the orphanage where they were working, but it had been a long day. We needed to relax.

View from the room. Hey beggers can't be choosers.

Our room. 

The next morning we took a taxi to the bus stop.

 Lesson learned that day: be aware of YOUR bag at all times. 

As we approach the bus terminal our taxi is surrounded by about 5-8 men yelling for us for different destinations. The taxi driver tells them we are going to Gracias, but half of them are still not listening.

We get out of the taxi and these men won't leave us alone. They are insistent we get on their bus, even though it isn't going where we want to go. 

It then becomes almost like a tug-a-war with our bags. One guy takes off with two of our backpacks. He crosses the street, headed for who knows where!!

I am sprinting after him, dodging cars and yelling to bring our bags back. He finally turns around looks at me as if I have messed up his plan of putting my luggage on another bus.

I escort those backpacks onto a different bus and then panic sets in with Jenna. Where is her roller bag? I looked at her and told her I had not clue. My goal was to stay with MY backpack. I wasn't watching her bag. She sprints across the street and stands in front of th,e bus that she believes her bag has been put on. 

I was thinking her bag was a gonner!! But in true Jenna fashion she stops the bus, and gets her bag,while causing a huge scene. But she got her bag back, that's was most important part of it. We all just sit down and look at each other with this huge sigh of relief. But Jenna then decides to run and get some food, in which the bus almost leaves without her. 

We spent the next 45 minutes shaking out heads. We couldn't believe how the last day had played out. 

We finally gotten home. 32 hours after I had left San Antonio, I was finally able to set my bag down on my bed. What a relief that was! 

It was great to be back to throwing toilet paper in the trash, walking everywhere, cooking without a light in the kitchen, cat calls from every Honduran man in the street and the sound of roosters and dogs barking at all hours of the night. 

Ahhhhh the life in Honduras. 21 more weeks :)

Christmas Rush...Honduras style

Every year Minerva puts on a Christmas parade. Different parts of the school are responsible for a float: kindergarten, primary and secondary each has their own float. Primary decided to have our theme be "Santa's workshop". We had a table in the middle with Santa's helpers (apparently the word elf is offensive in Honduras), presents and of course Santa. We thought it would be great to use some of the second graders to be Santa's helpers and get one of the male teachers to be Santa. Unfortunately, none of the male teachers wanted to be Santa. We attempted to ask some of the seniors to do it but once again we were turned down. So through a few discussions, it was settled that I would be Santa on the float. I honestly thought it was going to be great.... Until I saw what I was sitting on. 

I had to sit on a sleigh made by our art teacher and the seniors. It had 1 piece of plywood holding it together. Now put that on top of a truck...driving on cobblestone street, I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out. I sat in it while it was parked on our school campus and thought to myself "How am I going to stay stationary on this thing???" 

But through my broken Spanish I demanded they tie the sleigh down really well and I knew I would be fine. 

The week of the parade was absolutely crazy. We were finishing up finals and putting together all of our grades. I was overwhelmed with making my students costumes. They were snowflakes and I am the overachiever who decided I could make 19 of them!! Lucky for me, my angel Miss Kristin helped me power through and get them done in time!!

Lisbeth, Deborah and Heylin the night of the parade. 

Along with all this we still had to build our float and practice our song and dance for the Christmas show. So needless to say it was a crazy week. 

But before we knew it the night of the parade was upon us.  

The beginning of the madness. Teachers and students meeting to get costumes on and get ready for the parade.

Miss Kristin and I before the parade.... This is pre-Santa outfit!

A few of the second graders as Santa's helpers

The front of our float...I am barely visible but if you look to the left of the middle snowflake, I am on top of the float in the sleigh!

Here I am as Santa... There is nothing like sitting in a sleigh and yelling "Ho, Ho Ho Feliz Navidad"

There was only one moment where there was cause for concern. I was sitting in the sleigh and waving at people when I hear one of my Honduran teacher friends yelling at me in Spanish to duck my head. I glance behind me and see that I am close to being nailed in the head with telephone wires. For some reason the idea of being decapitated by the low hanging wires never even crossed my mind!!

As we approach Parque Central I see that the band is heading for the stage. So I yell to Miss Kristin and remind her that I am still up in the sleigh and don't forget about me. But you know what happens, of course everyone forgets about me.

Not one person remembered that Santa was still in the sleigh!

I finally get my principals attention and remind her that everyone has forgotten about me. But she can't stop laughing that I am sitting in the sleigh all by myself and everyone on my float has left. They had even turned the lights off!

So I manuever my way down the float and it is a mad dash to the bathroom to change and get ready for my kids performance in the show. 

But that is easier said than done. People are all yelling "Santa Santa" and then doing a double take that I am only 5'5, wearing checkered Vans and I am arm-in-arm with my friend Ana Maria. 

Pretty soon after, my kiddos were up for their Christmas performance. They sang "What Christmas Means to Me" by: Steve Wonder

The performance was a hit! The kids did a great job (I would post the video but the internet is too slow). 

My little "Snowflakes" singing.

YEAH!! Merry Christmas!

We are done!! Colleen, Annie, Ana Maria and I headed back to our house.

Next stop... Utila, Bay Islands!

Colleen, Jenna and I decided to stop off at the Bay Islands, before we made our way back to the U.S for Christmas. Needless to say, we had an amazing time.

Amazing view from our tanning spot.

Relaxing

Just doing a little meditation on our snorkeling adventure.

Great friends!

Beautiful sunset with Colleen.

The rays of sunlight, breathtaking 

The girls and I after dinner at a really cool hostel. 

Next morning we were off to the U.S. 

Clean water, fresh laundry, and my amazing family, friends and boyfriend!! WAHOO can't wait!

Live and Learn

One of the first things I was warned of when I first moved down here was "Don't eat the street food." I, of course thought, ok no big deal. I can defnitely stay away from street food. Who knows where that food has been, if the person has or has not washed their hands and so on. But my stomach got the best of me.

When we were in Copan, my friends and I decided the street food looked to good to pass up. I will be totally honest, it was some of the best food I have ever tasted. Delicious tamales and quesadilla's with homemade salsa. I mean it is hard to pass up cheap delicious food. 

Unfortunately, eating street food proved to not be in my best interest...

I had been experiencing cramping after every meal for the about a week after we got back from Copan. But I didn't think anything of it. It passed quickly and I soon forgot about it. 

That all changed on last Monday. I ate breakfast and immediately felt terrible. My stomach felt as if I had eaten a rock and it was sitting at the top of my stomach, not able to pass through to my intestines. It was a horrible feeling. I was unable eat or even drink. I was dizzy, hungry, nauscious and weak. I left school and went straight to bed in hopes that I would wake up miraculously feeling better. 

Unfortunately when I went home, but my stomach would not allow me to even sleep. The symptoms I was experiencing sounded like my roommates symptoms when she found out she had an Ameba. So I went to bed that night with stomach cramps and the fear that something was growing inside my belly.

The next morning I woke up and I actually felt a lot better. So I decided I had been cured and I was just run down. Oh big mistake!! I ate breakfast and bam the cramps were back. But this time in full affect. As I walked to school I actually doubled over in pain and started crying. How was I going to make it through the day? I could barely walk to school, what was going to happen when I had twenty third graders seeking my attention for academic support? Luckily the cramps decreased as my body digested the food. But this meant to make it through the day I couldn't eat, if I wanted to avoid being curled up in a ball in my classroom, while my students say "Meez Kate iz zeek (Miss Kate is sick)". 

After school, I put on my big girl shoes and reluctuntely went to the doctor. It wasn't that I had heard horror stories of the doctors here, I just hate going to doctors in general. Now add in a language barrier and the fact that it is in a foreign country and it makes for a recipe of avoidance. 

So Kristin and I went to the clinic. She was acting as my interpreter as well as moral supporter for whatever was coming my way. The doctor pushed on my stomach in search of the pain, but it every part she pushed on hurt. She indicated that she thought it was a parasite or an Ameba, but she couldn't be sure unless I gave a poop sample..... I knew that was coming, but I was secretly hoping she would see my symptoms and just give me medicine for a parasite. Nope!


As I headed to the bathroom to provide a poop sample, all dignity was lost. I was given a tiny cup, a bunch of toilet paper (they hoard toilet paper, which means that you better carry toilet paper everywhere you go because no one provides it) and I was told to walk out of the clinic to the bathrooms located in the middle of the property. So not only did I have to go into the bathroom carrying a cup and toilet paper, I had to potentially walk out with a sample of poop.


I will spare you the details, but I managed to provide one.


As I walked out of the bathroom, all I could do was laugh. Here I was walking around a clinic in Honduras carrying a poop sample. Kristin couldn't stop laughing at me. She also avoided any eye contact with me at all costs. I don't blame her. No one wants to make eye contact with someone else's poop.


I was later told that it was impressive that I was able to poop on command. Can't say I have ever been given that sort of a compliment, but I'll take it in stride!


Anyway, twenty minutes later I was given the grave news, I had a parasite. Now I had to go through the process of getting rid of it. First up, an injection in the ass. Now the initial injection wasn't what was painful, it was the aftermath that was terrible. I stood up and realized my whole left butt cheek and leg were in pain. I was limping as if I had a wooden leg. So as I limped out of the clinic half laughing, half crying, one of the families from Minerva school offered us a ride. This was a godsend since I could barely walk.
Next problem, getting into the car. I got the injection in my left cheek, so of course I wasn't thinking and I went to the right side of the car. I literally stood at the opened car door, paralized. I could not lift my leg up. ?It hurt so bad that I just physically couldn't lift it. So as this family watches, I back my butt up to the seat and slide backwards into the car. All I could do was laugh through tears and profusely apologize in Spanish.


Unfortunately, the uphill battle was only to begin. That night I was able to stomach a salad, which happened to be my first real meal in four days. It felt great to eat but I was unaware that part of the injection in my ass was a major pain killer hiding how much it hurt to digest that food. So the next day I attempted to eat breakfast thinking that I would be able to digest it. I couldn't have been more wrong. I was in such pain from eating an apple. To be honest I couldn't figure out why either. I had started my medicine and usually that starts to cure you. Well one known fact of parasites that is now clear to me. They don't go down without a fight. As they are being killed in your stomach they release large amounts of toxins into your body. This makes every part of your body feel like it is slowly dying. 


So I spent the next three days wishing I could just crawl into a hole and sleep until all the pain went away. The hardest part of it all was going to work and teaching. Down here, it just isn't possible to call in sick or get a substitute. Lucky for me, my students were understanding and seeing their faces each day made me somewhat forget about wanting to die.


It took the entire three days of medications to feel better. I can honestly say now, I will not eat street food. It was so delicious, but not worth the hell I went through for a week. 


Ahhhh you live and learn!!

Copan Ruinas

One of the coolest spots to see in Honduras (there isn't a massive list, so don't worry) is Copan, the Mayan Ruins. It is about a four hour bus ride from us. So we decided to take advantage of a 3-day weekend and travel to Copan.


But before we left we had gotten word that Copan was closed for the weekend. Apparently every year indigeonous Mayans get mad that the Honduran government is not giving them enough money. So they protest and actually steal pieces of the ruins. They hold them for ransom for a week and when they come to an agreement they give the pieces back and Copan is opened again. Well as we drove into Copan on Friday, this was the scene as we were driving past the ruines. Tones of people!!!

So many Mayans protesting!!

Setting up tarps so they could sleep there. They are hard core!

Lucky for us, they opened the ruins back up. Just in time for us :)

Honduran Man waiting on the side of the road

Another sweet Honduran Man 

Enjoying a drink on night one. Cheers

The next day, on our way to the ruins. 

One of the Mayan temples. This one was for fertility and cosmology. 

Sarah, Kristin and I standing in front of one of the Mayan temples that was more hidden due to overgrowth of  trees and plants. 

Ruins of the higher class Mayans of Copan.

Entrance to go down to the tunnels dug by archeologists.

A tree on top of one of the ruins

Joel, Sarah, Kristin, Ryan, Katie and I on top of one of the temples.

Another Mayan Ruin conquered! 

The Hieroglyphic staircase, which has over 1,250 hieroglyphs. It is phenomenal to look at. 

The ball court, where Mayans played a form of soccer/basketball. If you were the star player, you were killed as a sacrifice and went straight to heaven. 

A few of the Stelae's, which are structures meant for ceremonial purposes. 

Taking in the different pieces of ruines that are in the museum.

After a long day, who can resist traditional German beer? Yes I officially have gotten traditional German beer by Tomas, the German brewer in Copan and the foam got stuck to my nose!! I dove right in!

Eating street food with Jenna. The best tamales I have ever had!

Dancing in the streets of Copan with Jenna. 

The rainy streets of Copan.

We had another successful trip in Honduras!! 

Que Vaya Bien!

Feliz Cumpleanos

If you asked me a year ago, what I would be doing for my 28th birthday, I wouldn't have put myself in Honduras. A year ago I had just picked up from California, moved to Colorado and was looking forward to starting grad school in January. I was working for an amazing family nannying their two beautiful girls and a few months later would fall in love with my best friend. I started grad school with the hopes that I would make connections and get a teaching job. Unfortunately, teaching jobs are scarce in most states.

I was left without the possibilites of teaching in Colorado. I was at a fork in the road: continue on the path I was on, nannying and going to grad school. Basically living a life that wasn't fulfilling my passion. Or take a leap of faith and try teaching abroad. 




So here I am a year later. My life is filled with great new friends, adorable students and a Central American town unlike any other.


This is how I spent my 28th birthday. :)


My students have been begging to meet Esperanza and hang out with me on the weekend. So I thought it would be fun to meet them in the Central Park, bring Esperanza and a few goodies the day before my birthday. I should have known they would exceed my expectations. 


As Jenna, Kristin, Sarah and I walk into the park, I look around for my students...


Out of no where I see about 8 little bodies at a dead sprint, heading straight for me. I looked at Jenna and Kristin and we just started laughing. They were so cute running across the park, all yelling my name. 


They were so excited to see me and meet Esperanza. I thought they were going to fall over with excitement, all yelling at once. It was a small Honduran mob, trying to give me hugs and give me their presents. I had specifically told them, 'I don't want presents. I just would love to see your smiling face at the park.' But of course none of them listened and brought presents. I guess I should not be surprised that they weren't listening. hahahaha


We spent the next 3 hours hanging out, playing games and eating cookies. It was so special to me because I felt so loved. Not only by my students, but by my roommates Kristin, Sarah, and Jenna for partaking in my first Honduran birthday. 

A few of my girls :)

Silly kiddos got me presents. 

I was asking them if I looked fancy with my new feather head band??

My roommates and I with a mix of my students, Sarah's 5th graders and Kristin's 2nd graders. (Notice the kid in the upper right corner. That is Carlos, he is one of my students. This sums up how he is, doesn't matter where he is, he is ALL over the place, ALL of the time. But I love him). 

Playing Landa (tag in Spanish). Shocker they are chasing me. 

Two of my favorite kiddos. Lisbeth and Ricardo. They are both a little camera shy, but have big personalities. 

Carlos imitating Lempira, the Lenca chief who died in battle against the Spanish. He became a national hero and the currency was names after him. Carlos, in my eyes, is doing a great job imitating the statue. 

A few of the 5th and 8th graders. The 3 boys are my favorite in Sarah's 5th grade class. 

But the fun wouldn't stop there. 


Later that night, Kristin and I were making dinner, when I heard my name being yelled very loud outside. So I went out on to our balcony and outside our house was our friend from school, Anna Maria. Shebrought a cake and 6 of her Honduran friends to celebrate my birthday and my roommate Kristin's (whose was the week before). We ate cake and sat around and chatted with the girls (all in Spanish, Anna and her friends don't speak English). They were telling me how lucky I am that they don't know me very well because if they did they would have thrown water, eggs and flour on me for my birthday. Definitely glad I missed out on that Honduran tradition!! 


I topped the night off with beers with my 3 sweetest friends. 

A birthday beer with Jenna, Sarah and Kristin. 

And without surprise, my birthday celebration lasts longer than a day. I was treated to a pancake breakfast with all my roommates on Sunday :)

Esperanza was highly involved in the making of my birthday pancakes.

All 8 roommates eating pancakes with me. 

I had an amazing birthday. It was filled with love, laughter and friendship. I couldn't have asked for anything more. 

Feliz Cumpleanos!! 10/09/2011!!