The Facts of Life

I’ll start off by saying that I really like my host family (whom I will be living with until the end of September). The living conditions are humble when compared to an American home, but nevertheless I am still quite spoiled here.

Every morning I wake up, and my host mother already has a pot of hot water ready for me. What is this pot for, you might ask? Well, I’ll tell you. There isn’t running water here the way we have it in the States. Every house here has what is called a ‘Pila’, which is basically a large stone rectangular structure that has a faucet attached and can hold a large amount of water. This water is used for everything; cooking, cleaning, etc. However, this water is by no means ready to drink. It must be boiled, or a small amount of chlorine must be added. 

Anyways, back to the hot water. The Pila water can be used for bathing, but it’s quite cold. Thus, taking a bucket full of water and mixing in a teapot full of hot water makes it bearable. Since there are no shower faucets, you need to use a bowl to scoop the water out of the bucket and pour it over yourself. Hence the term ‘bucket shower’. 

As I was saying, I’m pretty spoiled. By the time I am finished bathing and getting dressed, my host mom has my breakfast ready for me. The food can be hit or miss, often involving fried plantains or refried beans. When I am done eating I usually sit on my porch and gaze at the mountainous countryside while sipping my coffee. It’s a nice way to start your day.

After I’m done getting ready, I set off to class. When I leave I can lock my door, though my host mother has a second key which she uses while I am gone to clean my room. It seemed a little strange at first that she would go into my room, especially after getting warnings that host families have stolen things in the past. However, my family here is extremely trustworthy and I find it hard to complain that my bed is made, my desk is organized, and my pitcher of drinking water is refilled every day.

Most days I return home for lunch, which again is prepared for me and ready just about when I arrive at the house. Not only is my room clean by this time, but if it was laundry day my host mom has usually finished washing all of my clothes by now as well. I am the only volunteer who has yet to learn to wash clothes by hand (which they say is very tiring), but I’m sure I’ll learn in time when I’m good and ready. I do absolutely everything for myself in the States, so for now I’m going to take advantage of the hospitality. And one more thing: I never have to wash dishes.

There’s no real good way to transition to this topic, so now I’m going to explain the toilet situation. While there is no running water, there is a septic system. In order to get the toilet to ‘flush’, you have to fill a bucket with water (only about a gallon or two), and then hold it up relatively high and pour it into the toilet quickly. This flushes everything away. One thing to keep in mind, however, is that the septic system cannot handle toilet paper the way it does in the States. Every bathroom has a trash barrel next to the toilet for the purpose of collecting used toilet paper. I apologize if this isn’t exactly pleasant to read about, but it’s the way of life here and something that I experience every day. Did I mention that nobody ever really washes their hands?

After a late dinner (7:30PM or so every night), I’m usually just about ready to wind down before bed. It should be noted that it is VERY noisy here at night. There are about nine dogs outside my house that will bark at each other for hours on end (dogs basically roam free around the neighborhoods here). I’ve started to become accustomed to the noise, but on the nights I can’t stand it I usually just listen to music with headphones as I fall asleep.

At about 4 or 5 in the morning the roosters start to crow incessantly (as they run as freely as the dogs here), and I do my best to ignore them until my alarm goes off and my daily routine begins anew.

One final note: I hope I don’t sound like I’m complaining about anything here. I adjusted very quickly to the things that sound a little crazy compared to an American lifestyle, and have been thoroughly enjoying my time here with my host family and fellow volunteers. The only thing I worry about is how things will be in October when I move to my official site, but I have no reason to believe that my next host family won’t be fine.

A Couple Small Things...

I’ve been in the country for over a week now, so I’m going to give up even trying to narrate each day. As things are settling into a rhythm, my plan is to do my best to write about various topics to describe my daily life.

On the Road

I’ve learned that driving in Honduras is a different experience from driving in the States. At first I was a little disappointed that as Peace Corps volunteers we are not allowed to drive cars or dirt bikes (which are an extremely popular form of transportation here), but the more I see of the roads the more I don’t mind.

There is a test everyone needs to pass in order to get a license, but apparently it is common practice to simply give a small bribe to the test administer instead of actually proving you are a safe driver. I have seen almost no traffic lights in the city or my neighborhood, and of course I haven’t seen a single traffic cop.

Despite the chaos of the roads, there seems to be some sort of unspoken and agreed upon rule system. If you are about to do something strange (such as pass 9 cars at one time) or if you see someone pulling out and not looking, just give a few friendly beeps of the horn first. I have no idea how and when people decide it is safe to pull into a new street to make a turn, but again this seems to happen consistently without incident.

One time while sitting in the front seat I was asked to tell the driver when it was safe to pull out. I looked out the passenger window, only to see a never-ending stream of oncoming traffic. In the States there would eventually be a traffic light to stop them, but no such luck here. I instantly gave up and did my best to not block the driver’s view. I’m not sure how he decided that it was finally safe to pull out, but nevertheless we were able to merge without incident.

Other things you might notice:

-      -  Old school buses everywhere for public transportation (I’m keeping an eye out for one from Enfield)

-      -  Dirt bike riders weaving in and out of traffic

-      -  Groups of people sitting or standing on the back of pickup trucks

-      -  Driving at high speeds on narrow roads at high altitudes, with no guard rail between the road and a fall of certain death

Again, I think I don’t mind waiting a couple of years until I am personally behind a wheel again.

Peace Corps Classes and Staff

I had little to no concrete expectations about what volunteer training and the Peace Corps staff would be like, and simply came to the country with an open mind. So far I have been quite impressed with their organization, attitudes, and services.

First of all, we have Spanish classes. Coming from my education background, I am impressed at how they run everything. They began by pretesting our individual Spanish ability levels and grouping us based on how we scored initially. There are three levels of ability (Novice, Intermediate, and Advanced), and within each of these three levels are three more sub-levels (i.e. Novice-Low, Novice-Mid, and Novice-High). I was hoping for Intermediate-Low, but tested as Novice-High. At the end of our three-month training, we only have to be at Intermediate-Mid in order to be accepted as volunteers.  Also, even if there are multiple people in an ability level, we are again split up into multiple classes in order to keep class sizes to 2 or 3 students per teacher (allowing for more individual attention). The classes involve no English at all, and most of the teachers don’t even speak any English.

Next comes the actual teaching methods. Much of it involves discussion about words and phrases between the students and teachers, with the teacher writing things on the white board and the students writing in their notebooks. Once phrases are introduced, we then practice using them in role-play conversations. At times things are kicked up a notch and we are asked to leave the classroom to complete a task in the neighborhood. For instance, one time we had to go out and talk with strangers working in and around the shops nearby to ask them some basic questions. We then returned to class and shared what we found. Finally, when learning some basic vocabulary we often venture to places within the house where our classes are to identify basic items such as kitchen utensils. After four hours straight of language training (with breaks, thankfully), we have a lunch break and move on to other classes.

Our other classes talk more about the practical aspects of being a volunteer. We discuss health and safety issues, the philosophy behind the mission of our work, and ways that Honduran culture will impact the work we are trying to do. Some of these sessions are actually pretty cool, as we have had opportunities to visit and interview a local mayor, visit schools and talk with teachers, and other such trips to get to know the culture and area. Thrown into the mix are debriefing discussion sessions, team-building exercises, and other slightly less formal activities.

As I mentioned earlier, I am very impressed thus far with how things are run. As a teacher I know how much work and planning goes into organizing lessons and activities, and it helps me to appreciate how they are able to have session after session well-prepared and ready to go. Everything is well organized and every session is very thought-provoking and informative. Our days are full and productive.

Finally, the staff has been amazing. They are all unique characters with great personalities, and it is clear that they are all very qualified to do their jobs. My fellow volunteers and I are in good hands.  

First Day in Honduras

Things are off to a good start here. A lot has happened since Wednesday, so I’m going to try and recap everything as best I can. I feel that I have so much to write about here, but at the same time I don’t go into as much detail as I would like. For now I’m going to start with how things went Wednesday and Thursday.

Days 1 and 2

Getting to D.C.

Saying goodbye wasn’t as painful as I was afraid it would be, mostly because I was too tired and excited about what was coming next to really register how I felt. I knew the emotion would catch up with me, but I tried to stay in the moment.

The flight was smooth, I wanted to chat but no one sat next to me and the woman across from me went straight to sleep. I was surprised almost everyone on the plane kept their windows closed, but I guess it’s not really that surprising considering I was probably the only person on their first ever flight.

Dulles airport was a little hectic, but I basically just followed the crowd to baggage claim. I had to take a tram for a couple stops to make it to the terminal, but I was finally able to grab my bags.

 My bags. I forgot to mention that each bag was 15 pounds overweight when I got on the flight to D.C. I was misinformed a few days before and told that each bag could be 70lbs, but this was not so. I had to buy a new small bag and put the extra weight in it in order to avoid $200 of baggage fees. I got lucky as they allowed me to take the extra bag as a personal item and my backpack as a carry-on, but I was worried what would happen for the flight to Tegucigalpa the following day.

Anyways… I had a hard time carrying all of my luggage (a large hiking backpack, 2 large suitcases, plus the one smaller extra suitcase I had to buy). I eventually made it to the exit, where a taxi service was ready and waiting. I was also taking my first cab ride. The driver was nice, perhaps not as talkative as I would have liked, but I made it to the hotel in plenty of time.

Staging

My staging event in D.C. didn’t end up being as big of an event as I imagined it would be. There were only 15 of us, and we basically spent the time going through an orientation manual and reading through it as if we were in high school again. I could see why it was necessary, but couldn’t help but be a little bored. I was ready to get out there.

We were done at 7PM and decided to go out to dinner as a group. We had our last American meal of cheeseburgers, fries, and beer, and then made our way back to the hotel. By the time we ate we were all quite tired after not getting much sleep the night before. I hit the hay around 10:30, and passed out right away. For some odd reason we needed to leave the hotel by 2AM, so needless to say I was not very rested when the alarm went off at 1:30. We gathered in the lobby and made our way to Reagan airport.

Trip to Teguz

We got to the airport at 2:45, but according to the lady working at the American Airlines check-in line they usually don’t open until 4. Couldn’t we have just slept another hour? Although the employee there decided to open early for us, it took her a while to get everything ready for us. She didn’t exactly seem happy to see us, and I got the vibe that she didn’t really enjoy her job. I went to go ask her a quick question while she was doing something on the computer, and before I could get a word out she started yelling at me and saying she was too busy to talk. Oh boy.

While we were waiting we saw a bunch of people wearing Costa Rica t-shirts, so we were curious as to what kind of group they were with. My fellow volunteers suggested that I should go and ask what they were up to, so I did. Turns out they were with a youth group on a missions trip for a couple weeks. Although I didn’t want to rub it in that my group was doing something way more intense with Peace Corps, I didn’t get the chance to.

 Before I could ask what church they were with or how old they were, BAM. I was blindsided by someone walking by. Before I could ascertain what had happened, the lady that was preparing the computers to check us in was yelling at me and saying I couldn’t stand in the way! I think she was having a rough day. I decided to walk back to my group of volunteers, who were all laughing. They saw the whole thing. Even though I was sort of in the way, they said there was still plenty of room for her to sidestep me and walk by. They all witnessed her run into me on purpose. We had a good laugh about how ridiculous she was being.

Eventually we were able to print our boarding passes and check our bags. A lot of us had bags that were too heavy, but a different employee that was working there let all of us keep the heavier bags without charging us, which was a big relief. Eventually we made it on the plane and were on our way to Miami, where we would catch a connecting flight to Teguz.

I couldn’t sleep on the way to Miami, but I felt well enough to keep going. It was my first time in Florida, but I didn’t really get a chance to enjoy it as it was raining and we couldn’t see much through the airport windows. After about an hour wait in the airport, we were able to get on the next plane. We all cheered slightly (we were all still quite tired) as it was going to be our last time on American soil for a long time.

I was able to sleep for about an hour on this plane, but when we finally got close to landing I started to feel pretty excited. We could see the countryside out the window, and we slowly watched as we got closer and closer to the airport. The airport in Tegucigalpa is considered to be one of the most dangerous in the world. Despite the technology warnings, one of us decided to take out our cameras. I’m not sure if he took a video, but if he did I’m going to try and put it up somewhere. We were basically just above the ground for a few minutes, taking sharp turns to avoid mountains. When we finally landed I started to clap and everyone on the plane followed. Part of it was the excitement of arriving, and part of it was being thankful that we were still alive.

Teguz

With the help of one of our fellow volunteers already being fluent in Spanish, we were able to make it through customs. Right after customs the Peace Corps employees were waiting for us, and once all fifteen of us had our luggage, we were off.

Teguz is an interesting place. Supposedly it’s pretty scary, as we’re not allowed there by ourselves. Just outside the airport were guards with M-16’s and mean faces, who seemed a few years younger than us. I’m not sure what they were actually doing there, but it was the first of many instances where I saw people standing around with guns in broad daylight.

As we walked past a plethora of American chain-restaurants (Burger King, Dunkin Donuts, etc.), we got to the vans that were prepared for us and had our bags sent to our host families. Meanwhile, we all got into a couple other vans and were taken to the Peace Corps office. This was to be the first of many experiences on the roads, where as far as I can tell there are no traffic rules.

We spent a few hours at the PC office, but I was so tired that it was a bit of a blur. I remember some speeches, a crash course on emergency Spanish, and lesson on how to use a Pela (more on this later), and some pizza from Dominos (which was nothing like Dominos, but was still pretty good). I managed to stay awake until the end, and they finally brought us to where we were staying. It was about a half hour drive to the place where we were living (called Las Cañadas), and our host families were waiting for us there.

Las Cañadas

I was ready to pass out when I got to the house I was staying at, but it was only about 5PM. I did my best to chat, though I quickly began to realize how little Spanish I know. I hung out with some of the kids that live nearby, who were a little easier to talk to. I let them play with my camera as they taught me a couple of words here and there. Eventually I had dinner around 7:30, and I took a picture of my first meal. The taste was a little strange, but overall it was pretty good.

After my meal I decided I couldn’t stay up any longer. I thanked my host mom, Gloria, and went to bed. My room is a good size, even though the bed is a little small. Gloria asked if I wanted to sleep in a different bed that was bigger, but it was in a shared room so I did my best to tell her I didn’t mind the small one (I preferred my privacy). Lying in the bed, the reality of the situation hit me. I wasn’t going to see many of the people I love for a long time. The emotion I ignored the day before started to come back in full force, but I couldn’t cry because the walls don’t really block noise and I didn’t want them to hear me. Eventually, between the sound of the television blaring and 9 dogs barking, I fell asleep. I actually slept pretty well.

Done for now…

Sorry that was so lengthy, but as I said there’s more I wanted to write about. Hopefully I’ll be able to do some more posts soon, and I’ll try to be more succinct in the future.