Attitude Adjustment

One of the little boys took this photo of Marian, Noah, and me...he likes to play with my hair.

Despite showering from a trashcan full of water, or squashing creepy crawlers around my room most evenings...I think I have adjusted. And my attitude towards it all has definitely improved.

Mentally and almost physically.

Yesterday I was finally feeling strong enough to check out the project. The other volunteers and I hopped on the chicken bus at around 7:45AM for a quick (but could have been quicker) ride up to the village of La Thompson. The bus dropped us off on the highway and we started on foot the rest of the way to the village. When we were about halfway, the welcoming committee came running up. Little hands clasped mine on each side and we continued to walk the rest of the way like this. Marian (18, Seattle) said that they greet them every morning like this. I was amazed at how friendly they were to me RIGHT away. They had never seen me before, yet they fought with each other to hold my hands.... I wished I had 10 hands!

The GVI school is still under construction. Right now it is beams, a roof and the beginnings of walls. We host a preschool, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grades. School was a bit hard to conduct with the dust the wind was blowing in, so we took the kids for a walk. We walked through the village to a farm close by. I saw the biggest chanco (pig) I have EVER seen in my entire life. All I could think about was bacon???? Not sure I can eat it anymore.....well...who am I kidding? Anyway, the farm seemed to be mostly pigs, tomatoes, and coffee. The kids loved it.

It has been so interesting to me to see how different the children are in each location/country. The nicaraguan children are so sweet and clingy. They are very physical with each other. Lovingly and rough. There are two mentally challenged kids in the school. When asking around the community what was wrong with Carlo, the answers were all different. "Oh, he just has a headache." "His stomach hurts." "His legs are bothering him." They do not understand his condition...and how could they?? Has he ever even seen a dr.??

If I were to guess....I would say Autistic. He is amazing.

After class, we hopped in the back of a pick up heading back to Esteli and then had frozen mochas at a local coffee shop and discussed the day.

I´m not here to be comfortable. I am here to be with them :)

The Comfort Zone?-Esteli, Nicaragua

I have arrived at my final location. I will spend the next four weeks here in Esteli, Nicargua. I can´t believe it is already MARCH! Time is flying...and I am scared. Until yesterday....I was certain that I was not ready to come back to NY, to reality, to the stress and busy-ness of it all. Of course, there are things and people that I miss terribly...but I was settling in quite nicely to the simple lifestyle of the road and the children and the Central American way of life.

Those euphoric feelings have faded.

After 8 nauseating hours on a bus through the winding roads of Honduras, (many of those hours spent hovering over a toilet in the dark box of the bus bathroom), a night alone in a hotel, and 5 more hours on a sketchy bus the next day....I am spent. I was dropped in the middle of the road in front of a Texaco gas station at the edge of town. My instructions were to hop in a taxi and tell the man to take me to: Cafe Luz. There I would be able to ask someone to borrow their phone, call Steven (the director here), and he would walk over to meet me. The taxi driver had NO idea where Cafe Luz was and refused to try and find it. Panic was juuuuuuuuust about to take over, when I heard,

¨Leigh?¨
I fiercly turn around, ¨STEVEN??????¨
Laughing, ¨Yeah, you seemed a bit nervous via our email conversations, so I thought I should come wait for you here.

PHEW!

We take a taxi to my host family´s ¨house¨and I walk in ready to drop my bags and settle in for the next month. But, the accommodations are a bit....different...than at my other stops in Honduras and Guatemala. This is more like a hostel. A family run hostel, with 4 rooms for rent. I spot Emma, a 23-year old nanny from D.C., eating breakfast at the table. We exchange pleasantries and I am told that because she arrived yesterday she got the room with the bathroom and the TV. No biggie, I think to myself. I don´t really watch TV anyway...and I have lived with roommates for the past 8 years of my life, I have mastered the shared bathroom situation.

I am escorted to my ¨room¨...that resembles that of a jail cell. Edith, casually asks which bed I would prefer as she would like to change the sheets on just one of them. I point to one and she gets to work. Next, she is mopping the floors while I get to know Emma in the other room. Steven leaves saying he will return at 3 to pick us up for a quick orientation and a look about town. And we are left alone, to get ¨settled¨. I start to unpack some things and then ask to see the bathroom. We take a long walk down an open hallway lined with rocking chairs and enter into what looks like an old washroom. Behind wooden swinging doors is a toilet that looks like it was discarded from a grungy biker bar. The shower is even more revolting.

The internal pep talk begins: I can do this. I can do this. It´s not that bad. I will get used to it. It will be fine. It´s only 4 weeks. FOUR weeks. At least Emma is here. Leigh, quit being a baby!

The night consists of vegetable soup, apple tea, more bouts of stomach sickness, and being reprimanded for leaving my light on in my room...for all of 45 seconds. When retiring to my room and to bed, I find tiny roaches on my door frame but am too exhausted and weak to freak out. I sleep with my headtorch under the pillow and pray that I will sleep through the night.

I don´t. I wake up with an urge to run to the bathroom, throw the headtorch on and search in the darkness. I wake up sweating profusely with torch on and in hand?? I wake up talking in my sleep, delirious. But every time feeling drugged, so doze back into slumber.

Decide in the morning that I will not be able to make it to school and I need to rest. Steven agrees. Back home I would call in sick in a HEARTBEAT if I wasn´t feeling well (not that I am proud of this). But here, I haven´t missed a day. I have dealt with the most uncomfortable of situations in the bathrooms at the schools...most with no seats and def no running water. I am super dedicated to the work here and do not want to miss a minute. But I am too weak.

I decide to lie back down after breakfast and read. Edith barges in, turns off the light and says: ¨No mucho luz¨. If I want to read I can come outside to the rocking chairs and read there. Mind you, I have already been reprimanded for turning on the light early this morning in the bathroom.

I say that I am sorry, break down crying, and leave...to call Chris and vent.

I feel a bit bratty complaining about the conditions when I basically live like a QUEEN back home...but I am just not used to this. Copan was LUXURIOUS in comparison. And it was. I miss Copan. I miss Loly.

Esteli used to be a truck stop. The city is rough. There are no pretty buildings or a beautiful park. The streets all looks the same and there are tons of people and loud cars. No tourists. No gringos. This is what I signed up for...right?

I am anxious to see the project and will hopefully report back in a better state of mind.

Despidiendose

Today was my last day at the school in San Rafael. I woke up well rested and excited to see the niños. I knew it would be sad, but did not expect to shed any tears.

We started the morning with-Camp-as they call it. We play soccer and braid hair in this huge field a short walk from the school. Marko bought the boys a new futbol, they were super stoked.

Pam, Lyndsey, and I sat with the girls as they braided my hair and tortured Lyndsey for mas photos, mas photos. I had talked to a couple of the kids in my class the day before about my leaving, but wasnt quite sure they really understood. Eric and I were their first teachers as we had the primero grado. And the first volunteers to waltz in and out of there lives...

A couple of the clinger girls asked me today...porque?
Ummm....how do I explain this....in Spanish? I set out on this trip in January and the next adventure is in Nicaragua. I didnt expect to fall in love with all of you... Im sorry, I have to leave now.

Heartbreaking.

Now, I am feeling a bit self-righteous writing this and I know they will be fine and they will cling to new volunteers as they come and go. But for now, for today...I think a few of them were sad. I was, anyway.

Carolina and Erica (the two Honduran teachers) called all the kids out to the front of the school to say goodbye to me and to give me their cards and their hugs. They also sang a song for me...Bravo.

And then I cried. UGH. I didnt expect to cry...but it just came over me. I am going to miss them so much. And as frustrating as it is everyday to try and get them to focus, to sit down, to stop yelling...its even more frustrating to get to know them and then leave them.

Porque?

Trip to the Beach - Hamptons vs. Honduras

We arrived, in the dark, here...Puerto Cortes "Beach".... It's all GRASS....beach?????

The only purified water they had at this restaurant was out of bag....why do they serve liquid out of a bag everywhere? It tasted like plastic.

Local "jam" band in Omoa. They were REALLY good.

Now, THIS is more like it. La playa in Omoa.

Hamptons:

Friday afternoon. Grab overnight bag from under desk and sneak out of the office at 20 till 5. Walk 3 blocks to the Hampton Jitney "bus stop". Stand in line with other preppy NY'ers. Jitney pulls up right on time, hand over the print out of my (weeks in advance) prepaid ticket. Hop on.

Honduras:

Friday morning. Talk amongst other volunteers, decide on spontaneous beach weekend upon recommendation from Spanish teacher. Back in Copan after school, seek out tourismo travel agency. Communicate in broken Spanish, ask not nearly enough questions, buy ticket (at most likely an escalated gringo rate), go home, pack. Look up name of la playa in lonely planet book--not listed. Second guess said spontaneity. Grab backpack and walk to "bus stop". Argue in more broken Spanish, hand over legit (phew) ticket, hop on Tourismo bus. Aisle seat.

Jitney:

Get situated, stare out window and wonder how long it will take THIS Friday to get out of the city... Nice bus attendent in green Jitney polo comes through offering water or juice, pretzels or chips, and a newspaper. Take water and pretzels, pass on newspaper.

Tourismo:

Get situated, open suspicious curtains on window, and wonder, "Will we make it? Will we get robbed? Is there a bathroom on this bus?" Stop every couple miles to pick up more people/locals. Large Honduranian man comes through selling homemade bread and red juice in a plastic bag. Pass on both.

Jitney:

Stop once in Queens to pick up more New Yorkers...and we're off! Comfortably settled in, with book in hand-forget about all the traffic. Glance back every now and then to see if I recognize anyone on the bus. See a few familiar faces. Keep reading.

Tourismo:

Stop for the one hundreth time...pick up more locals. Being that there is now no available seating, locals are lined up in the aisle. Subsequently, am elbowed in the nose by a small child. OUCH! Continue reading. Machismo stands DIRECTLY next to me. Touching me...hovering. UGH. Try and peek past sketchy curtains, winding through beautiful mountainous scenery. VERY large elderly Honduranian woman presses boobs and belly into my self. Glance over at Lyndsey. Try very hard to supress laughter. Can't. Large breasts now resting on my cheek. I am half in my seat and half in Lyndsey's. Ponder....is this really happening? Belly and boob contact continues for the next 9 minutes. Stop again. Locals run off...knocked out by child's small backpack.

Jitney:

Arrive at expected location around expected time. Walk to summer share or sailboat. Enjoy the beach and the weekend.

Tourismo:
Arrive at confusing bus station in big city-San Pedro Sula. File off. With no direction whatsoever, wander around looking for connecting bus to Puerto Cortes (final destination). Spot a Pizza Hut. Yum. Focus, continue searching. Finally find the exit, ask first Honduranian we see where the bus to Puerto Cortes is. He points straight out to his bus, of course. We ask zero questions and blindly hop on to a small overly air conditioned shuttle. He charges us 42 limperias. A STEAL! Wonder, "where are all the gringos (white people/tourists)?" SURGE through San Pedro Sula with the door to van open, accumulating and losing more locals. It's simulates a drop and roll sort of effort....

Two hours later (we were told around 45 minutes from San Pedro) realize we are the last three on the shuttle. Look out windows at grimy grimy small city.

The two operators ask where we are going, in Espanol.
We reply, "Puerto Cortes."
"Aqui."
"Ummm....where is the beach??"
"You have to take a taxi."
"How far?"
"Diez minutos."
"Where do we get a taxi?" (Oh, please please please don't make us get off here!!!)
"Wellllllllllllll.....I guess we can take you for same price as taxi. 100 limperia each."
"100 EACH? But it is only ten minutes away??? You charged us only 42 for a 2 hour ride...."
"Do you want to get off and take taxi?"
"NO NO NO, ok. Ok."

Arrive at la playa.
"Here are the hotels. This one is cheap and that one is expensive."
"Only two?"
"Si"

To make a long story short....

We ditched the cheap dodgy hotel, walked around a bit (in the dark) and finally came upon a reasonably clean sleeping establishment. Overpaid for one night. Ate cold grilled cheeses and fell asleep to the hum of a keyboard and Honduranian man serenading to NO ONE....out by the pool.
Woke up early the next morning in search of the beach....found what we expected. Hopped in a cab and headed to the next beach town, one I had actually read about in my Lonely Planet nerdy travel book--OMOA!!!!

Found great little Canadian-owned bed and breakfast at the end of the beach. Settled in and soaked up the sun and the Caribbean seas for the remainder of the weekend.

PERFECTO :)

Want to Meet Them?

Ruben, a charming 6-year old in my class. He waves to me with one finger and is constantly smiling. I caught him with a half empty bag of something at Recreo the other day. I asked what he was eating and he poured a pile of sugar into my hand! haha. He always wears this Mickey Mouse hat too :) I thought this picture was great...because they boys were throwing their oranges to the cow after they had finished. The cow LOVED them....

The boys. At Recreo, they all gather around this barbed-wired fence. They hang on it like it's no big deal and are constantly sneaking under it to run around in the open field below on the other side. I heard they had been throwing rocks at the cow this day....BOYS!

The girls. Lined up and ready to go inside. Carolina and Erica (the two school teachers) have all the kids line up outside before class starts and they check their hands and fingernails everyday. I think to make sure their nails are short and their hands clean?? Not sure.

One of the older boys eating his orange under the tree. Love the foggy background in this pic.

It has been quite a challenge teaching. It is, thus far, the hardest "job" I have ever had. I am sure the language barrier and the malnourishment amongst the children has a little something to do with the difficulty...but it is TOUGH. The little ones need a new activity every 15 minutes or so. But when they can't read or write you have to dig deep into your creative self to come up with fun ideas. I have now learned my vowels twice in the past month and a half. Teaching A, E, I, O, U (mayuscula and minuscula) to both my class in Guatemala and my class here in Honduras. There are only so many words in Spanish that begin with the letter "O" that I can draw. Ojos (eyes).

I often sit back, frustrated, watching the room. It is like a sea of movement. Constant movement. They do not understand the concept of being still. I looked over once to find Marko's feet where his head should be. I couldn't help but bust into laughter. You have to laugh. They are 5 and 6 years old. And while I can't fully remember myself at that age...I know my hyper ADHD self probably acted in the same way. I remember my father always telling me as a child: "Leigh, quit flitting around! Be still." Impossible.

So, everyday...I must remember my small self and look at these kids and remember to smile....not reprimand. And I must remember that this 4 hour and 45 minute morning may be the only time in their day that they get to be a kid. Just a kid. And I must try and be creative, put all I have into planning, and make class FUN for them.

I'm trying....

Time to Reflect

Alana, Kate, Karla, and myself.

Once known as "The Core Four"...not sure what nerd made that up ;)

Silvia, mi casa-madre in Colonial Candelaria, Antigua. I barely fit through that door behind me ;) It was like when Alice drank that liquid and grew HUGE in Alice in Wonderland and had to stick her arm out the window just to turn around.....yeah....kinda like that.

My roommates: Troy (32) and Nicole (30) -- Canadians. At our last BBQ. They gave us chicken buses as a token souvenir and goodbye present.

Also at a Friday night BBQ...the chicas :) I have no muscles to show off.....so I didn't...

Doreen, Nancy, Karla, Alana, and me....Howie, I was teaching "out, cock, down" ;)

This post may seem a bit late....but instead of doing tarea de espanol (my spanish homework), I feel like reflecting on my time spent thus far. Particularly in Antigua, Guatemala. I don't feel as if I could ever paint the real picture for you. It would surely come out incomplete and kind of messy. And as much as I treasure my photos, they can not even begin to exude the true beauty that is Antigua. I am going to try to do it justice though...one last time.

Let's start with the kids.

I miss them SO much!
Now, do I miss:
The yelling: Seno, Seno, Seno...ALL day long -- no.
The blank stares when asked to do something -- no.
The constant rushing to finish a project or assignment JUST to get a sticker: no.
Do I miss:

The never-fading smiles--YES.
The affection, hugs, and kisses -- YES.
Their grimy little hands all over my face and in my hair -- ABSOLUTELY.

I just miss THEM. You wouldn't think you could fall so hard so fast for SO many....but you can and you do.

I need to see them again. (The plan is to go back to Antigua for a few days at the end of my travels in April...when Chris comes to visit-he will get to meet them!).

And the people:

Karla - my first friend on this adventure. A fellow American and an East Coast resident nonetheless. A tiny bit timid, but it's only really in her voice. An amazing listener and so welcoming. More afraid to speak broken Spanish than to jump off a slippery rock 30 feet in the air and into a freezing cold lake!

Kate - my first "International" friend in Guatemala. Kate and I taught the Kindergarten class together. A cool 25 year old blonde Aussie. The opposite of a nerdy traveler, Kate has been on the road for months. With a great sense of humor and def no head torch in sight...she travels light and without expectations. I was so thankful for her positive attitude, quick wit, and previous teaching experience ;)

Alana - another Australian buddy! Alana has the most BEAUTIFUL skin I have ever seen. She also has this calm about her...not much ruffles her feathers. And her travel wardrobe is SUPERB. She knows how to let it "hit her," how to "take it all in" and get the most out of this experience that she can. She is open. She has enjoyed her time thus far so much...that she has post-poned Uni (college) to stay in Guatemala a couple more weeks and also try and get down to volunteer on the project in Nicaragua. I hope to run into her again there :)

Troy and Nicole (my roommates) - an adventure loving "team". A young married couple out of Canada. Troy exudes this incredible energy and spirit, always thinking positively. And Nicole...well...we are a lot alike (except she is way more fit and really hilarious). We found ourselves on the same page A LOT. This kind of bothered Troy ;) Their relationship was and is an inspiration. The way they truly respected and cared for each other was so nice to see and be around.

Santiago and his beautiful family. Doreen and her fixed smile and infinite patience.

And while I can't mention them all, the other volunteers (around 30) all brought something interesting and different to the table. Eighteen year olds and beyond (some WAY beyond) all here for the same reason. Very cool place to be...

Did I ever mention the BBQ's??

The GVI interns/employees opened up their house to all the rowdy volunteers for a night of too much food and drink. Everyone was meant to bring something...like contributing to a dinner party. It became a pot luck of sorts, with chicken on the barbie as a constant. Karla and I made fresh guacamole 3 out of my 4 BBQ's and form my last I brought 12 packages of Chocisitas cookies...a tienda favorite among the Santa Maria crowd. With every BBQ came goodbye's, speeches, and dancing. YES, dancing. Picture this: a large circle of people all dancing the same dance (you pick it up rather quickly actually) and then at a break in the song...."FREESTYLE....LEIGH!!!!" And I have to jump into the middle of the crowd and...well...freestyle! So hilarious and so much fun. It is like this every week....a unifying experience.

And the city....

One of the most beautiful old cities I have ever been too. Cobblestoned streets (bad for flip flops)and colorful buildings. Gorgeous flowers and pretty parks. And the DOORS!!!!!!!!! I know I haven't put any photos up of the doors in Antigua...but hopefully you will get to see them (I am working on a little project with the photos). They are truly magnificent. I was mesmorized. The others thinking I am crazy, stopping every couple feet to gawk and snap away. The knockers as well....copper faces and hands. And you can't miss the views of the volcanoes...especially in the morning on a clear day. Another something you won't miss...the Chicken Buses. Basically brightly painted old school buses discarded from the U.S. that carry hunderds of people and their wares. Yes, chickens too. They roar down the streets puffing out CLOUDS of black smoke. But they are part of charm :)

My time there has expired and now I am into my second week in Honduras and it is totally different. More on that later. I can't believe I am at the halfway point in my travels! Thank you again to all that supported me attempting this journey and supported the projects I am working on. I wish you could all be here to see the way that you have helped. I will be posting pics of my Copan kids within the next couple of days....so that you can meet them too.

Comer (koh-MEHR)

TO EAT.

Breakfast in Monterrico, made by the woman below holding up the fish.

Lunch at the Earth Lodge (an avocado farm) in Guatemala

Veggies at the market in Antigua.