Small Town with Big News

I'm writing after I've spent over a full week in San Isidro. As for the adjustment period that I was dreading so much the last time I wrote, it's been over for a while. Recognizing that I was in an adjustment period made it slide by that much faster. So much has happened to me in this week I'm not sure where to start with stories and descriptions. To make things easier to understand I should clarify the characters in this crazy adventure. You've already been introduced to Sarah and Rebecca (my teammates, Canadian and American, respectively). Marvin is the FIPAH Director for the Region and he is married to Paola, another FIPAH worker. The last employee is Carlos. Another important distinction: my time here can be broken into the first few days, when Marvin and Paola were here, the last 5 days with Carlos as our sole FIPAH connection, and the two days since Carlos has left us. The first few days were a lot of adjustment for me. I wasn't talking as much as I normally would have been and I tried to explain to myself how much I was going to enjoy the next 7 weeks. Since then we've kept relatively busy (at least by my standards, my roommates have at times expressed the desire for more work) by learning about what FIPAH does, interacting with members of the community, planning the lessons we will use in the 5 schools we'll work in, swimming and playing with the kids, cooking some for ourselves, and eating at Doña Hilda's house each night for dinner. I don't have enough space to describe everything I've done so I'll focus on the experiences that are most meaningful and memorable. Mirna is a farmer in our community living with 5 of her children. Her oldest daughter is in the United States, which is where her husband went but, unfortunately, he died there because of heart failure. Sarah and I were able to use a few hours the other morning to work with Mirna and her kids (including Claudia—one of my favorite kids in San Isidro) in her fields to clear the weeds from around her bean plants. The work was hot and not easy but more rewarding than I could have imagined. (The picture for this post is of Sarah and 3 of Mirna's children in the field.) Mirna had food ready for us as soon as we finished cleaning the field; in an incredibly kind move she actually came to our door about 30 minutes ago to deliver some freshly baked sweet breads that she recommend we drink with coffee or Coca-Cola. To give you some context, this happened while Paola and Marvin were in La Ceiba writing a grant proposal and we stayed in San Isidro with Carlos. The other notable activity we undertook before the return of Marvin and Paola was a trip with Carlos and Elvin (a farmer in the community with a fascinating story) to Tegucigalpa. Carlos was nice enough to show us around the center of Teguc and we also had a chance to do some grocery shopping. I actually rode back from Teguc in the back of the truck for 3 hours in the hot sun. Part of the reason I volunteered to sit in the back was so I could write the previous sentence but, to be honest, it was actually much more comfortable sitting in the back on the seeds than being crammed in the back seat with all of our groceries. Right before Marvin and Paola returned we were informed by Carlos that he was being told to transfer to Yorito to work. As much as we miss Carlos we know he's doing great work in Yorito and should have a great time hanging out with our friends there. Now that Marvin is back we have started working with him again. Yesterday we drove for an hour up into the mountain to work with a farmer who was planting some potatoes (papas) high up on the side of a mountain. Little did we know that the first thing we needed to do was help clear the field.... with machetes. I guess it's about 85 degrees or warmer at this point, but without the humidity it's not that bad. After my first few tentative strokes with the machete it turned out I was a machine when it comes to clearing potato fields in the mountains of Honduras. It seems that being the tallest person here has its advantages in terms of moving the most brush and 3 year old palm trees at once. Interestingly this was also the second time a Honduran agricultor (farmer) called me Tomasito (I use the name Tomás when I'm here and speaking in Spanish, also, Tomasito means “Little Tomás”). I couldn't figure out why these farmers were calling me little. I'm literally the tallest person I've seen since arriving in San Isidro. I didn't know if it was supposed to be some kind of ironic joke or something, but I've since discovered it's a term of endearment. One final note, because I know how long this post is, tomorrow morning I get to visit my friends in Jesus de Otoro and I think we are going to continue on to La Ceiba for a couple of days. I can't wait to write another post from the beach!

Even though this is such a long post I can't forget the now-standard shout-outs. I also think I like the idea of doing them in pairs. Today's pair is actually a triplet! I want to thank the 3 eighth grade teachers that donated to my trip and made it possible for me to work in Mirna's fields the other day. Dana Thompson, Beth Gall, and Karen Sanborn all deserve special recognition. I have to do a special note for Ms. Sanborn because she wrote me THE funniest email about my trip and put me in the right frame of mind before I left. Thanks and I'll hopefully get to see all of you when I return in the fall!